#so this would require me to come up with a different name for those chapters

[thatonebjp]

Blue uncommons

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ interlude - i have questions

chapter summary: Logan tries to figure out how to move on from your death after Alcatraz Island in the years following.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is kinda different from what i normally do, but i had this idea in my head. if anyone has ever read 'a series of unfortunate events' or watched the show on netflix (i highly recommend both) then you know lemony snicket (the author and narrator) always puts a quote about beatrice, the love of his life who he lost, at the start of every book. so instead, i put some quotes at the start of every time cut (there are only three very short drabbles, but i wanted to try my hand at it so this is not a required read for the series)

warnings/tags: sadness, angst, depression?, heavy drinking, mentioned blood loss

series masterlist - chapter 9 → chapter 11

you left too soon,

i wasn’t done loving you yet.

---

During the night Logan hoped for two different things: that he would go to sleep peacefully, without dreams of you, or that he would dream of you.

The mansion was unnervingly quiet. The students had adjusted to the absence of Charles, Jean, and Scott in ways only kids could—by moving forward. The classrooms still buzzed during the day, Ororo still led them with grace and determination, and Hank busied himself in his lab, pushing forward as if the cracks in the foundation weren’t there.

But Logan? Logan couldn’t move forward.

Not without you.

It had been months since Alcatraz, and every day was heavier than the last. He’d carried you back himself, refusing help even though every muscle in his body screamed against it. He’d stayed with you until the funeral, until the dirt covered the final trace of you. But even that couldn’t make him leave.

Now, the mansion felt like a ghost of what it had been when you were alive. The hallways didn’t echo with the same warmth, and he swore that every room still smelled faintly like you, even though he knew it wasn’t possible. Your classroom remained untouched, the pen you always twirled still resting on the desk where you’d left it, just like every other time you’d been too nervous to notice.

He couldn’t bring himself to enter it again.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed in the room you’d shared that last week before the battle. His elbows rested on his knees, a cigar burning out between his fingers. He stared at the floor, your name an unspoken ache in his throat.

Sleep wouldn’t come. It never did. Not since that night.

His head fell into his hands as he let out a shaky breath. Memories of your smile, your laugh, the way you’d said I love you before kissing him—those memories haunted him, louder and sharper than anything else. He carried you in a way he hadn’t been able to carry anyone else.

He felt your absence in every breath he took.

The bed creaked as Logan stood. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, its glow casting shadows across the room. Three in the morning. The kind of hour where the world felt still but not peaceful. His bag was already packed in the corner, and his boots were waiting by the door. He’d known tonight was the night—he couldn’t stay here any longer.

Logan lit the cigar between his lips, taking a slow drag before picking up the bag. The weight of it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He made his way down the hall, pausing briefly outside your classroom. His hand hovered over the doorframe before he clenched it into a fist and moved on. He couldn’t open the door. Not now, not ever.

By the time he reached the garage, Ororo was there, leaning against one of the cars with her arms crossed. She’d always been perceptive, too much for her own good.

“You’re really leaving,” she said softly, not as a question but as a fact. Her tone wasn’t judgmental—just tired.

Logan nodded, tossing his bag into the truck he’d commandeered months ago. “Ain’t much left for me here.”

Ororo stepped forward, her brows furrowed as she studied him. “That’s not true, and you know it. The students need you, Logan. We need you.”

“They’ll manage without me.” He pulled open the driver’s side door, but Ororo reached out, her hand on his arm.

“Logan—”

He stopped, exhaling a breath full of frustration and something deeper. “Don’t try to stop me, ‘Ro. You know I can’t do this anymore.”

Her grip loosened, her hand falling to her side. She hesitated, searching his face for something—anything—that might change his mind. “She wouldn’t want you to leave.”

Logan froze, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the door. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Ororo didn’t flinch. “She loved you, Logan. She believed in you. If she were here—”

“But she’s not here,” Logan snapped, his voice breaking as he turned to face her fully. “She’s not here, and she’s not comin’ back. None of them are. So don’t stand there and tell me what she would’ve wanted. You don’t know.”

The air around Ororo shifted, the weight of his words settling heavily between them. She nodded once, stepping back. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I don’t know. But I do know that running won’t make it hurt any less.”

Logan didn’t respond. He climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut as he started the engine. He didn’t look back as he pulled out of the garage, the headlights cutting through the darkness like a blade.

The mansion disappeared in the rearview mirror, and with it, the life he’d tried—and failed—to build.

As the miles stretched on and the road unfolded before him, Logan felt the ring pressing against his chest like a curse. He pulled it out, letting it rest in his palm as his foot eased off the gas.

He’d carried it for more than a century, waiting for the right time. But the right time had come and gone six times over, and this time, there was no coming back.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He slipped the ring back into his pocket, where it would stay—like the memory of you, a ghost that would haunt him for as long as he lived.

He kept driving, the road endless and empty, each mile taking him further from the mansion but never from you.

---

“You can’t love someone unless you love

yourself first.” Bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you

Oh God, I loved you so much I forgot what

hating myself felt like.

---

Getting shitfaced at a bar was Logan’s routine nowadays. It didn’t matter where—dingy dives or polished joints—it all tasted the same after the fourth whiskey. The bartender at tonight’s hole-in-the-wall had finally kicked him out, muttering something about closing time. Logan didn’t fight him. He barely muttered a thanks before stumbling out into the cold night air.

The streets were quiet, empty except for the occasional car passing by. His boots scuffed against the pavement as he made his way back to the motel where he’d been crashing. It wasn’t much—a single bed, a bathroom, and a TV that barely worked—but it was enough for someone like him.

The whiskey hadn’t done its job. The buzz wasn’t strong enough to drown out the memories, and the quiet only made it worse.

Logan shoved open the door to his room, letting it slam shut behind him. He tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner and sank onto the edge of the bed. His hands came up to his face, rough fingers dragging down as if he could wipe away the exhaustion. But it wasn’t just his body that was tired; it was everything.

He pulled off his boots, letting them drop to the floor with a heavy thud. The cheap mattress creaked as he fell back onto it, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. His hand found the chain around his neck, pulling the ring free from beneath his shirt. It dangled between his fingers, the light from the streetlamp outside casting faint glints against its surface.

The ache in his chest was a familiar one—sharp and relentless. He closed his eyes, gripping the ring tightly in his fist as if that could bring you back.

It never did.

---

It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed of you.

In the dream, you were there—alive, warm, and smiling at him like you always had. You sat cross-legged on the bed, your glasses slipping down your nose as you scribbled something into a notebook.

“Logan,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re staring again.”

“Can’t help it, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “You’re a hell of a lot prettier than the walls.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of life. It tugged at something deep in his chest, the same way it always did. You pushed your glasses up the same way you always did, while you kept your head down, hiding that smile of yours.

Logan moved closer, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat beside you. You looked up at him, your eyes catching his in a way that made his heart stumble. He reached out, brushing a thumb against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch without hesitation.

“Don’t leave,” you said, so softly it almost wasn’t a sound. “Promise me you’ll stay this time.”

Logan’s jaw tightened at the sound of your voice. It was so achingly familiar, so damn real that he almost believed it was true. Almost.

“I’ll stay,” he said gruffly, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. His hand stayed on your cheek, the warmth of your skin grounding him in a way that felt cruel and kind all at once. “Ain’t got anywhere else to be, sweetheart.”

You smiled, and for a moment, it was as if the weight in his chest lifted. The lines on his face softened as his thumb traced the curve of your jaw.

“You always say that,” you teased, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. “And yet you always find a reason to leave.”

Logan closed his eyes, the accusation cutting deep, even if it wasn’t meant to hurt. The truth was, you weren’t wrong. Every life, every version of you, he’d lost—by fate, by chance, or by his own failure.

“Not this time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

Your hand came up to cover his, delicate fingers wrapping around his much larger ones. “But you have to go,” you said softly, eyes searching his face. “You can’t stay here.”

Logan’s chest tightened, the dream taking on that cruel, vivid sharpness that felt too real to be anything but torture. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “No,” he growled, voice low and almost desperate. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Not again.”

You smiled at him, but there was sadness in it. The kind of sadness that cut deep, quiet and understanding. “You have to,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his knuckles like you were comforting him. “You don’t belong here.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, the weight of your words sinking in, but he didn’t loosen his grip on you. “This ain’t fair,” he said, his voice rough, teetering on the edge of anger and pain. “You were s’posed to stay this time. We had plans, remember? You, me…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, the words catching in his throat.

Your free hand came up to cup his face, gently coaxing him to look back at you. “Logan,” you said, your tone tender but firm, “you’ve always been the strongest man I know. But even you can’t fight this.”

“I can try,” he said gruffly, his hand tightening around yours. “I’d fight the whole damn world if it meant I got to keep you.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had paused. “I know,” you said. “And you always have. But you don’t need to fight anymore. Not for me.”

Logan’s brows drew together, his eyes glassy as he searched your face for something, anything that might make this easier. “I don’t know how to let go,” he admitted, the words barely audible. “I don’t even know who I am without you.”

“You’re Logan,” you said simply, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. “You’re the man who’s lived a thousand lives and still keeps going, no matter what.”

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, livin’ don’t feel much like livin’ without you.”

Your hand slid down from his face, resting over his heart. “I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your eyes holding his like they could anchor him. “Every heartbeat, every breath—you’ll carry me with you.”

Logan closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled a shaky breath. He wanted to believe you, to hold onto your words like they could fill the gaping hole you’d left behind. But when he opened his eyes again, the bed was empty, and the only sound was the faint hum of the motel’s heater.

His fist was still clenched around the ring, the metal warm from his grip. Logan sat up, dragging a hand down his face as the reality of the dream settled over him like a fresh wound. He looked down at the ring, the faint light catching on its surface, and let out a bitter chuckle.

“Even in my dreams, you’re tellin’ me to move on,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not yet.

---

But life has plans for all people. Even if those plans separate us

from the ones we love. No matter where my life takes me or

yours takes you, I will love you whether there are a thousand

miles between us or none at all.

---

Logan stood outside the hotel room, rain steadily pouring down on him as Mariko slept inside.

“That’s a lot of blood.”

He looked over to the side and saw you—or rather a vision, hallucination?—of you. “I thought you were done being the hero.” You continued.

“These guys were… trying to kill her.”

You gave him a small smile before walking closer to him, kissing his stubbled jaw and turning his head to you with a hand on his cheek. “You’ve always been a hero.”

Logan’s throat tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m no hero, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “Not without you.”

Your hand lingered on his cheek, your gaze steady and unyielding. “You’re always going to be a hero Logan.” You tilted your head and even in this vision, your glasses had specks of rain on them from the downpour, “especially mine.”

The words hit Logan harder than any physical blow ever could. His jaw tightened as he stared at you—or the echo of you, the cruel trick his mind had conjured. Your presence was so real he could almost feel the warmth of your palm against his weathered skin, the way your touch had always managed to ground him no matter how lost he felt.

“Darlin’...” The word slipped from his lips in a voice rough with disbelief and pain. “This... this ain’t real.”

Your soft smile didn’t falter. “Maybe not,” you admitted, your tone impossibly gentle. “But does that really matter?”

He took a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for answers he already knew he wouldn’t find. “It matters,” he rasped. “’Cause I can’t... I can’t keep seein’ you like this. I can’t keep hearin’ your voice in my head, feelin’ like—like you’re still here when you ain’t.”

You moved closer, your hand sliding from his cheek to rest over his heart. Logan flinched but didn’t pull away. He couldn’t—not from you, even if you weren’t really here.

“I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against the soaked fabric of his shirt. “You know that. You carry me with you, Logan. Every lifetime, every moment—you never let me go.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, hollow and heavy. “Maybe that’s the problem, sweetheart. Maybe I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“You’re not supposed to,” you said simply. “Not yet.”

Logan’s gaze hardened, the fire of his grief and frustration sparking through his voice. “Not yet? Then when, huh? When the hell am I supposed to stop seein’ your face every time I close my eyes? When am I supposed to stop hearin’ your voice every time I take a breath?”

You tilted your head again, your expression unreadable but calm in a way that only made his turmoil worse. “When you’re ready,” you said quietly. “And not a moment before.”

The rain poured harder, running in rivulets down Logan’s face as he stared at you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted to be angry, to scream at you, to demand why you’d left him—again, always. But he couldn’t. He never could. Not with you.

Instead, he whispered, “I miss you.”

Your hand pressed more firmly against his chest, where his heart thundered beneath your touch. “I know,” you said, your voice like a balm over his frayed edges. “I miss you, too.”

The blood loss finally took effect, and without his healing he stumbled to the ground, passing out.

if you read this, thank you! next chapter is back to our regularly scheduled programming, 'days of future past'! and oh boy, will it be everything you wished for ;)

also, i'm flying home for xmas break today so i'm super excited and happy that i'll have more time to write and read my long tbr. anyways, i'm off to catch a(nother) flight! xoxo

[kentumi]

city of angels

kagami taiga x reader

*+:.. b4 u read ... fluffy (?), gn friendly, college au (?), implied height difference between kagami n reader, barely proofread = a lil messy (；ω；)

a/n: waow i've never written something so happy this long before >< sorry if it's a little everywhere.. i'm not the best at writing fluff hu (◞‸◟) i feel like this had the potential to be wayy way way way way better ,, also.. i debated on making this a multi-chapter series? but i'm not sure if it's worth expanding on it so let me know wat u guys think in my inbox (づ_ど)

los angeles.

new home, new beginnings. getting an apartment here definitely wasn't easy and barely made it within your list of "apartment requirements."

a wave of stress comes upon you as you arrive at the tenant's office. here to pick up your keys, you would officially start a new chapter. as you stand in front of the building, you second guess your decision on moving to the big city. in comparison to your previous place, the two heavily contrasted. since the beginning, you always held a fear that you wouldn't become accustomed to your new style of living here. within those fears, one of them stood out the most to you: making new connections.

"alright, just sign here.. and the keys are all yours," the tenant smiles. her smile is warm and welcoming. just what you needed.

"i'm assuming you've been to los angeles before, right?" she asks in attempt to ease your mood. the stress that resided in you could probably be seen from a mile away. however, you were too caught up in making sure that no mistakes were on the final paperwork.

"oh! uh- no, not really.. i decided to move here on a whim to start new and," your voice trails off. then it really sinks in; what kind of decision was it to move to a city that you've never been to before? that you knew barely anything about? you can feel the look she gives you without even turning your attention to her.

"well, i wish you luck on your journey. welcome to the city of angels," she smiles again. this time, her words catch you off guard. your eyes dart straight to her and she has the same warm smile on her face. in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, things will be alright.

"yeah.. yeah! thank you!" you stutter. she drops the keys into your hands, and you're on your way.

"city of angels," you whisper to yourself. "i wonder if it lives up to its name." sure, the tenant herself was already an angel and already served the name right, but what's a city of them if there's only one?

making your way to your flat, you take notice to the athletic center of your complex. basketball, tennis, swim. there's a spot for almost everything. however, that grows out of your concern. the red-headed figure on the basketball court wounds up taking your full attention. several attempts were made to get a glimpse of his face, but the world only worked against you. back turned to you, you were only able to admire the passion in his movements across the court.

swinging the door open, you get a whiff of the freshly painted walls of your flat. your tenant had just been here assuring the final touches, which you had assumed since the kitchen lights had already been on. the empty space fully submerges you into your new reality, and you decide, it's time to get to work.

stumbling down the stairs and back into the parking lot, you make way to the moving truck. struggling to set up the ramp, you became convinced that dealing with the truck's contraptions was harder than trudging your boxes up the stairs.

a half hour passes, and you're whooped already. you've moved about four out of the fifteen boxes and you're also definitely at your limit. the workload had you debating on calling it a day and just sleeping on the floor with a sheet for the night.

"hey, you need some help?" an unfamiliar voice shakes you out of your thoughts.

whipping your head around, you're met with the chest of a stranger. and when you look up, your eyes meet with the eyes of the redhead from the basketball court. for some reason, a shiver makes its way down your spine. what was this feeling? you can tell he's shaken up too, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

he looks a little mean, but you can tell he's soft. his gorgeous face and impressive height held your focus for a little too long. you also take notice to the muscle he packs on his arms. the mystery man you were just admiring was now standing right in front of you offering.. help?

you stumble on your words, "oh! i mean, if you don't mind.." and before you knew it, the box in your hands disappeared.

"i can handle it. carry whatever's easiest," his voice was charming. fierce, yet kind. he was confident in his abilities, but not too arrogant. following that, you let him take over.

"you from around here?" he asks, breaking the silence. the two of you had been focused on not tripping up the stairs with your hands full.

"no, actually. it's my first time in los angeles," you smile to yourself. suddenly, living here didn't sound too bad. not if he was around.

your redheaded assistant exclaims out of shock, exhibiting the same reaction as your tenant but with his own twist, "well, i hope you come to like it here. it's a beautiful city, really."

you nod, and it goes silent again.

"what was your name? i didn't quite catch it before," you needed to know who he was. after all, he was your athletic center crush turned moving assistant.

" 'names taiga. taiga kagami," you can tell he's proud of himself. not in the sense that he was an arrogant loser, but that the journey connected to his name was all worth.

"well, it’s nice to meet you taiga. i'm y/n, and i am very grateful to be having you help me," you smile. it's obvious that your comment flusters him.

"mm," his shoulders are tense and his voice grows quieter than it was before. with that tough look on his face, you'd never think he'd become easily flustered like this.

a few hours pass, and taiga places the rest of your stuff next to the front door, "you need help with anything else?"

"i think i'll be fine," you smile, "thank you again for helping me. i think i would've just given up on moving had you not showed up."

you find it cute the way he scratches the back of his head. a gentle giant, he was. and for a moment, you both steal a glance from one another. he plays it off, acting as if he was observing the room. the room grows silent once more, and you decide it's your turn to break it.

"oh yeah, i've been meaning to ask.. where's your place at? unless you're just here to use the courts," you joke, but he pouts.

"actually, i'm right across from you," it sounds like he takes pride in where he resides. right across from you. what a steal.

the way everything fell into place so perfectly had you starstruck. you couldn't believe that the man, who simply started out as a mystery crush, turned assistant, had now turned into the boy next door. or rather, across the hall.

shock made itself at home on your face. you were speechless, unsure on how to recover from this right in front of him.

"what a coincidence this must be then," you smile, trying to sound like what he just said didn't just send you through the roof. he smiles back, but this time, it feels more welcoming. the former desolation of your empty apartment becomes warm and you feel an invisible pressure lifted off of your shoulders. however, the feeling is all too familiar.

"well, i'll be across the hall if you ever need anything. just ring the doorbell and i'll get to ya," he shoots you another smile, and up and out the door he goes. at first, you debate on stopping him and offering to take him to eat out, but you decide you're not bold enough for that yet.

the evening replays in your mind as you hover over your kitchen counter. his kind nature paired with his athletic abilities topped with his physique had you absolutely whipped. you'd align him with your definition of angelic.

maybe los angeles truly was the city of angels, and taiga just so happened to find his way to you.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Lucky Break Chapter 3

Yandere Straw Hats x fem!Reader

4.5k words

Beginning / Previous / Next

I was really hoping to get Orange Town Arc wrapped up in this chapter, but it appears that writing for One Piece has given me Oda’s pacing.

How could this even be possible? How did a disembodied arm stab Zoro? You clung onto the cage Luffy was in, feeling nauseated at the sight. Unlike when he had cut Buggy, blood was immediately flowing from the wound. Zoro stumbled from the attack and reached behind him to try and remove the dagger, but the arm ripped it out and flew away.

You could only watch in abject horror as Buggy’s body floated until he was in an upright position. He laughed loudly at the confusion on your faces, “The Chop-Chop fruit is the name of the devil fruit I ate, so now I’m a person who can never be cut!” His body readily attached itself back together (and his clothes too somehow), all while he continued to cackle.

Another one of those weird fruit things? Are all of them this disturbing to witness? You hope you never have to see another person with these cursed abilities ever again. 

“A chop-chop person? Is he some kind of monster?” Luffy was, as per usual, not reacting to the given situation with anywhere near the severity required. 

You reached through the bars to swat at him, “You’re all rubbery! Are you a monster too?”

“No, I’m a rubber person, it’s different,” he says like you’re dumb and simply didn’t understand. Well, to be fair though, you didn’t understand a damn thing going on right now. Was your life always filled with such bizarre events? Surely this wouldn’t be so shocking if you had been used to such things.

Wait, there is way too much going on right now for you to be getting distracted like this, you look up only to see Zoro lifting the cannon, flipping it so that it’s aimed towards the other pirates. How he was able to casually lift that is beyond you, especially when taking his wound into account.

Nami rushed over and lit the already very short fuse. Buggy and co immediately panic at this, and are apparently so terrified that they forgot how to move because they just let it fire at them. The explosion was deafening from this short distance, and the wave of heat felt like it was burning your lungs. All you could do was try and shield your face with your arms, but it really didn’t help much.

“Come on, we need to get out of here,” Zoro shoved past you and grabbed the cage, putting all his strength into dragging it away. You can’t let him do this by himself when he’s so injured, he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, so you push it from the other side. It’s so heavy, you can’t imagine you’re really helping him all that much, but you don’t give up. 

Zoro is either in shock and can’t feel anything, or is a glutton for punishment because he continues to drag the cage further than you thought necessary. You’re not sure why, it’s not like those other guys are going to come after you. If there was anyone that survived the blast, there’s no way they’d be in any shape to give chase.

He finally called it quits in front of some abandoned pet store, immediately collapsing onto the ground upon letting go of the cage.

“Zoro!” You rushed over and knelt next to him. Instinctively, you reach into your bag for the first aid kit, but then freeze. What are you supposed to do with it? Slap some bandaids on the gaping wound? For all you know some of his organs were pierced, too. At the very least, he would need stitches, and you didn’t know how to do that.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about this. I’ll sleep it off,” Zoro placed his hand over yours, forcing you to put the kit back in your bag.

You looked at him incredulously, “Sleep it off?! You didn’t sprain an ankle or something, you got stabbed! You can’t sleep off a stab wound!” He must be delirious from blood loss, that’s the only explanation for how he’s this nonchalant.

“Quit worrying so much, I’ve slept off worse.”

“You’ve what?”

“Just quiet down so I can sleep,” he yawned and stretched out on the ground as if he were on a bed. His eyes flickered open again and back on you, “Can I have that back now if you’re done using it?”

“Have what?” Your hand reaches up to follow where his gaze is focused, landing on the fabric of the bandana, “Oh!” So you were right, it was his. You’re quick to untie it and return the bandana to its rightful owner.

“What’s with this weird dog? Why isn’t it moving?” Luffy was currently in a staring contest with a tiny white dog sitting in front of the store. The poor thing looked filthy. A stray, probably.

“That’s what you’re focused on right now? Seriously?!” You scolded him while gesturing at Zoro. What’s with this guy? How is he this laid back about everything going on around you? Were you the weird one here?

Luffy just tilted his head at you, further making you question if you were the odd one out, “What? He said he’ll be fine after he gets some sleep.” Zoro wordlessly nodded along with this sentiment from his (bloodied) spot on the ground, giving you an ‘I told you so’ look. 

It’s official. They’re both insane. Was it too late to listen to what Nami said and go your separate way? You hazard a glance back at Luffy, only to see the dog biting his hand and him screaming while trying to shake it off.

You… Would probably be better off on your own.

“So that’s where you three ran off to,” you whip around to see the sanest person you’ve met so far, Nami, watching you all with an amused grin. She strolled closer and dropped a large key onto the ground, “I figured you guys might want this.”

“The key!” You and Luffy shouted in unison. You pray it’s the correct one this time, but at least it won’t be your fault if it isn’t. Luffy goes to grab it, but can’t. Not because he can’t reach it or anything, but because the dog leapt forward and snatched it up first. He didn’t just pick it up, no. The damn thing swallowed it, much to everyone’s shock and horror. 

Luffy was the first to snap out of it. Surprise turned to anger as he grabbed the dog, yelling at him to spit it out, even though it was too late for that. 

Ah. Of course. This might as well happen.

Crestfallen over the realization of how strange the company you’re keeping really is, you look at Nami with what must have been an extremely exasperated expression. All she does is smirk, visibly taking joy in your palpable regret towards your life decisions. 

“Are you having fun helping your friends here?” Her tone was saccharin and her smile was conniving. 

Suddenly, your resolve hardens and spite bubbles to the surface. If she’s going to be like this, then you don’t want to let her in on how you’re really feeling. You won’t give her the satisfaction of being right. “Yes. I’m loving every second of it, thank you very much,” you huffed and looked away from her, hoping she didn’t see right through you. Nami snorted at your effort.

“Hey! You kids leave Chouchou alone!”

Everyone turns their attention to the new voice. It belongs to an old man wearing some crude attempt at armor. Who’s Chouchou? The dog?

“Who are you?”

“I’m Boodle, the mayor of this town,” he stated very matter of factly. You couldn’t help but take a look at your surroundings. He’s mayor of this town? A ghost town? You suppose that would make getting elected easier.

He stomped his way closer, sizing up all of you before his eyes settled on Zoro. His eyes shot wide open, “That’s a terrible wound you’ve got there, we need to get you to a doctor immediately! I take you young’uns had a run in with Buggy and his crew?” The old man knelt down and began to try and lift Zoro onto his feet. 

You pitched in and hooked his other arm over your shoulder. You’re not sure where you’re headed, but you assume it’s to wherever the doctor is. It’s surprising that there’s still a doctor here, but you suppose it’s not that much of a reach if the mayor is still lurking around.

He enters a nearby building, but it looks more like someone’s personal home than a doctor’s office. There also isn’t anyone in here. You follow the mayor’s lead into a bedroom and let Zoro lay down on one of the beds in there. You glance around and strain your ears, but you don’t see or hear anyone. You decide to ask, “So where’s the doctor at?”

“Oh, he’s not here,” Boodle didn’t pay you much mind, leaving the room to grab some supplies. He came back with a first aid kit and a glass of water. 

Zoro in the meantime had shuffled himself under the covers and waved his hand dismissively at Boodle, “I don’t need any of that, just let me get some sleep.” Within seconds of finishing the sentence he was out cold.

“When is the doctor coming back?” You pried.

“Not anytime soon, I imagine. Not while Buggy is still ‘round these parts.”

“Then why did we bring him here???” Talk about pointless, this was like going shopping in a store that’s out of stock.

“It’s better than leaving him on the street, young lady,” he explained. His eyes focused on the haphazardly placed bandages on your forehead, “Oh dear, it looks like you could stand to see a doctor, too.”

“What? The doctor that isn’t here?”

Boodle scowled at your response, muttering under his breath, “Kids these days and their sass.” He huffs and turns to the door, “I’m going to go talk to the others, you’re welcome to stay here and rest if you want.”

The mayor is quick to leave after that, so you focus your attention back on Zoro. He’s sound asleep, looking surprisingly peaceful despite the circumstances. Despite his insistence that all he needs is sleep, you’re not so convinced. You shake Zoro’s shoulder, but he doesn’t even flinch. The blood loss must have him in a very deep sleep right about now. Maybe you could treat him now? There’s probably no harm in that.

You pull the covers back and roll up his shirt to assess the wound. If you remember right, he got stabbed from behind, so you decide to roll him onto his side to look at that part of the injury, too. There’s blood everywhere, and also some dirt and debris around it. You’ll need to get this cleaned up so it doesn’t become infected. 

The bathroom should have what you need for that. You leave the room and try a couple of doors in the hallway before getting the right one. There’s a wash bin on the counter that you fill with warm water, and you snag a couple of rags on your way out of the room.

Zoro is exactly as you left him a moment ago, so you set to work on washing away the blood and dirt. His abdominal muscles twitch involuntarily from the action, but he didn’t wake. It was somewhat difficult to clean the wound due to the fact that it was still bleeding, but you got it good enough to move on to disinfecting it. 

Cracking open the kit, you rifle through it to find what you need. Your hand closes around a bottle and you pull it out to see what it is. Painkillers! You can’t help the relieved grin that spreads across your face. Finally, some relief for your splitting headache! Popping open the bottle, you shake out a couple of pills and use the water on the bedside table to take them. Zoro probably wouldn’t mind. You set a couple more on the table for Zoro to take, too. 

Next, you find a disinfectant and set to work on applying it. The sting of it was enough to rouse Zoro from his slumber. His arm shot out to try and shoo you away and he hissed, “Leave me alone, I’m trying to sleep.”

“I will when I’m done. We need to get this taken care of before it gets any worse. Here, I set out some painkillers for you,” you reached over and grabbed the pills and water cup, holding them out for him.

Zoro made no move to grab them, “I don’t need them, I feel fine.” 

“There’s no way that doesn’t hurt like hell. Quit acting like a tough guy and take the damn things!” You try to push them past his lips, but he wrenches his face away from you like a toddler avoiding taking medicine.

“Knock it off, woman! I’m fine! Just finish what you’re doing and leave me alone!” He grabbed the wrist of the hand that had the pills in it to stop you from trying. 

You scowled at his stubborn antics, but ultimately relented. If he was willing to let you dress the wound without a fight, you’ll take it, “Okay fine, sit up for me.”

This kind of a cut definitely called for stitches at the very least, but you weren’t qualified to do that. The best you could do was bandage it so it stays clean and doesn’t get any worse. You wad up a couple pieces of gauze to put on each side of his stab wound and wind some bandages around his waist to hold them in place.

“Is this too tight?”

Zoro rolled his eyes and grumbled, “It’s not, you worry too damn much.”

“Well excuse me for trying to help you and return the favor,” my god this guy was argumentative. 

“Return what favor?” He looked genuinely confused. It’s not entirely unbelievable that he’d forgotten about helping you before given everything that’s happened in such a short window of time.

“You’re the one that cleaned up this, remember?” You pointed at your head with your free hand. Granted, rinsing it with sea water was hardly an ideal treatment, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Oh, that,” Zoro averted his gaze. “It’s not a big deal, I didn’t do that much. Definitely didn’t harp on you as much as you’re harping on me.” The man apparently couldn’t go two seconds without complaining.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, “Still, I appreciate the effort and wanted to give you the same courtesy, even if you’re being a cranky bastard about it.” His protests of being called ‘a cranky bastard’ was cut off by you tying the bandages in a knot to keep them in place, “There, I’m done. Now you can go back to sleep.”

“Finally,” Zoro falls back onto the pillow dramatically and immediately goes back to snoring. You pull up the covers since he didn’t bother to before passing out again. He must be exhausted to be able to go to sleep so quickly.

There’s another bed in the room and you contemplate laying down in it, but then you hear a terribly loud roar outside. You spare a glance to Zoro, who is unresponsive, then rushed out of the room to see what was going on. That sounded an awful lot like the lion, Richie.

Throwing open the front door, you look around and see Luffy by himself. Nami and Boodle are nowhere in sight, but neither is Richie at least.

Luffy is frantically rocking the cage back and forth in what you think is an attempt to scootch away. When he sees you running towards him, he perks up, “Lucky! Help me out and move the cage!”

There’s no way in hell you can move that cage far enough to get him out of danger, but you think you have an idea, “I can’t do that, but there might be another way.”

He tilts his head curiously, “Another way? What do you- Hey! What are you doing?” He yelps as you reach through the bars to grab his ankle and pull it out.

“You’re made of rubber, so you can squeeze through these bars, right?” If he can stretch, he can squish too. At least, that’s what you’re guessing.

“That’s not how this works! I would’ve gotten out of here by now if I could do that!” Luffy was flailing indignantly, trying to get you to let go.

“Maybe you just needed some help? Work with me here, suck it in!” You grunted from the effort of trying to pull some wriggly rubber boy out of a cage. He wasn’t making this easy on you. His leg was stretching, but he wasn’t any closer to being out of the cage.

“Suck what in? You don’t make any sense!” Luffy was straight up whining at this point.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

You shrieked and in your panic, let go of Luffy’s leg. You were so focused on helping Luffy that you hadn’t realized that Richie was now right here. So was that guy with the weird hair. When you let go of Luffy’s leg, it slingshotted back and over the cage, nailing the guy in the chest and sending him flying off of Richie.

“Oh! Good thinking Lucky! You got him good!” Luffy wasn’t even acknowledging the massive lion.

The other guy was coughing and gasping from the impact. Richie was paying him no mind and instead came over to you and licked your face. This successfully distracted you from the situation at hand. You cooed at the overgrown feline and gave him chin scritches.

The dog, Chouchou, was growling like mad. You hadn’t even noticed the small dog was still here before, having assumed it left with the others. 

The weird haired guy staggered onto his feet, visibly furious, “Richie! Quit cuddling up to that liar!”

Richie grumbled, but did listen. He meandered back in no particular hurry, looking unenthused about the whole ordeal.

The man cleared his throat, “I’ll make you all pay for what you did! I am Beast Tamer Mohji, and there isn’t a creature that I can’t tame! Observe!” To prove his point, he approached Chouchou, whose growling got louder with each step. Mohji crouched down and held out his hand to the dog, smirking confidently. 

As soon as he was close enough, the dog lunged forward and bit down hard on him. Mohji screamed and flailed his arm, trying to dislodge the angry dog. You, Luffy, and Richie watched this, all sharing an unimpressed look at the display.

When he did manage to free himself, Mohji took a minute to catch his breath before turning to face you guys again. “Anyways! We have unfinished business here! I’m not about to let anyone get away with disrespecting Captain Buggy!”

Oh, so he’s just gonna sweep that under the rug, huh?

He sicced Richie on you two. You screeched and leapt behind the cage. Why did he have to start acting like a proper lion now?! Richie put all his weight onto the cage, and it crumbled almost immediately.

Luffy cheered and jumped out of the way, dragging you along with him. He stretched and jumped up and down, thoroughly enjoying his newfound freedom. “Finally, now I can actually do something!” He charged at Richie and Mohji, winding up his arm to deliver a blow, but Richie reacts faster. He swipes at Luffy, and the hit quite literally sends him flying. Not just flying a few feet, no, it sent him hurtling through several buildings.

Your mouth was agape. Sure, he’s made of rubber, but how can anyone be okay after something like that?! Praying that Richie likes you enough to not give chase, you sprint towards the rubble, hoping that he’ll be okay.

Much to your relief, you aren’t pursued. Much to your horror, however, you find several buildings toppled from Luffy being thrown into them. When you finally reach the last destroyed house, you catch sight of Nami and Boodle gawking at it.

“What are you doing? Help me dig him out!” Not waiting for them to pitch in, you start pulling off fallen beams and tossing shingles behind you. You can see one of his feet poking out of the rubble.

“Lucky, I don’t think you need to, there isn’t a chance that he survived that,” Nami put her hand on your shoulder and gently tried to pull you away, but you just shrugged her off and continued to dig. You had to at least try!

Suddenly, the fallen building shifted on its own. Then Luffy sprung out of it, looking perfectly fine, if a bit dirty.

“What?! How can you still be standing after that?!” Boodle stepped back in shock from the sight and you could hear Nami gasping behind you. 

“I’m a rubber person! It’s gonna take a lot more than that to stop me,” Luffy declared proudly. He hopped down onto the ground and sprinted back towards where Richie and Mohji were. He sure is fast for someone who just went through what he did. All three of you followed after him, wanting to see where this was going. 

It wasn’t until just now that it dawned on you how strange it was that Mohji and Richie were even here. Didn’t they get hit by that cannon? If they’re okay, then does that mean the others are, too? Damn, how weak was that cannon? Maybe letting it hit Luffy wouldn’t have been that dangerous afterall. 

Up ahead, you catch sight of a rematch between Richie and Luffy. This time, Luffy was more prepared and dodged his attacks with ease. He then twisted his arms around several times over and grabbed the lion. As if Richie weighed nothing, Luffy flung him overhead and drove him into the ground. You couldn’t help but wince at the sight, pitying the lion even if he had previously attacked Luffy.

Mohji was also appalled at the treatment of his lion, but didn’t have time to do much since Luffy knocked him out in one hit.

Nami was horrified at the display. It seems she was as disturbed by Luffy’s powers as you were. “Pirates are insane, why would anyone ever want to associate with these freaks?” She mumbled more to herself than anyone. 

If Luffy heard her, he didn’t react to it. All he did was pick up a box of dog food that was laying on the ground and make his way back to where you guys were initially. 

Curious about what he was doing, you tagged along and could hear the other two not far behind. As you rounded the corner, you finally took notice of the active fire that was going on. That pet store you guys were by before had been set aflame since you’d last seen it. Did Mohji do this? Why? 

Chouchou was howling pitifully in front of it. He looked like he’d been roughed up, with claw marks all over him. You suddenly felt a lot less bad for Richie.

Luffy slowly approached the dog and set the dog food next to him, “That store was your treasure, right? It’s not much, but I was able to save this for you.” He reached out and patted the dog on the head, which Chouchou surprisingly tolerated this time around.

You aren’t completely sure what Luffy is talking about here, you feel like you’re missing an important piece of information. Still, you can’t help but be moved. Did he go out of his way to help the dog even after his previous issues with him? That’s oddly sweet.

Maybe these guys aren’t so bad afterall. Unhinged, yes, but at the very least they’re decent people. Perhaps you will stick around a while longer. 

It would appear that you weren’t the only one moved by the display. Boodle clutched the spear he was carrying tighter, looking like he was on the verge of tears, “I can’t believe I’ve let this get so out of hand. I’ve been a part of this town since it was founded forty years ago. I helped build it. Me and the townsfolk poured so much into this town only for some lowlife pirate to come by and try and take it all for himself.” He cleared his throat and looked off into the distance with a burning resolve, “I’m done letting this continue, this is ending here and now! I’m going to bring an end to his reign even if it kills me!”

Mayor Boodle raised his spear in the air and charged towards where Buggy and his crew were stationed. Nami called out after him, warning that this was a bad idea, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Should we stop him?” You can’t imagine this is going to end well for him. This feels like watching someone’s grandpa go to war.

Neither of them were given a chance to answer. The deafening boom of a cannon going off cut through the air as several buildings toppled in its wake. Horrifyingly, one of them was the house Zoro was in. 

All of you were in a stunned silence. How many times were you going to see people get crushed in collapsing buildings today? What was this? A superhero movie?

… What’s a superhero movie? 

The remains of the building shuddered, then lifted, and you saw a green head of hair pop out. “Can’t get any damn sleep around here,” Zoro looked annoyed more than anything, as if you’d simply woken him up again and not like he’d just survived numerous events that should have been fatal

Luffy cackled, “Let’s go Zoro, we’re gonna kick that big nosed clown’s ass!”

“I don’t think Zoro’s in any shape to be ‘kicking ass’ right now.” Did Luffy forget about Zoro being stabbed?

Zoro, who was still working on climbing out of the rubble, groaned at this, “Didn’t I tell you that you worry too much? Quit fussing. I got some sleep, I’m fine.”

Does he think sleep is a cure-all? He must be able to tell that you’re going to argue with him, because as soon as he steps down, he takes off with Luffy in the same direction Boodle went. You called out after them, but they distinctly ignored you. 

“They’re a bunch of lunatics,” you muttered, staring at their rapidly retreating forms. 

Nami laughed, “Yeah, well they’re your lunatics, right?” 

“I guess so,” you admit. Even if they are insane, you can feel yourself becoming fond of them.

Both of you follow behind them at a light jog. They’re out of sight, but you’re sure you’ll be able to hear them soon enough. You’re not sure what you’re going to do when you get there, but you’ll just have to figure it out as you go along. 

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 20

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

hello hello! As promised the tattoo reveal.

I survived getting half my sleeve lined but boy am I sore. Tattoos on your hand are the absolute pits. Like no joke, hand tattoos are rough my guys. 10/10 do not recommend, but I'm doing it because it looks cute LOL.

This tattoo will be a tea themed sleeve. Featured on this half: hibiscus, chamomile, green tea leaves, raspberries + raspberry leaf, and lemons. I have another appointment in December and January to get the shading done but for now just lines!

I did not have tea with this chapter but that is okay- let's get into the notes!

I was so hung up on Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu's relationship that I totally forgot an entire war is brewing. Well. Here we go LOL

unrelated but important question- what is their ship name???

Okay we are starting the chapter strong with SQQ's gay panic LOL Re: SQQ lying to himself, the reader, and the gods about him actually meaning that he missed the light of his life LBH p241

These two!!!!! "Then why didn't you come look for this master inside the dream realm" p242

"Whenever Shizun is at Cang Qiong Mountain" Luo Binghe said quietly, "When Shizun is with other people, he always smiles so happily. So I thought you wouldn't miss me". p243 This guy is the absolute master manipulator or he just requires unlimited amounts of reassurance. Either way My HEART!

The cat and mouse game at this point is wild. Really Shen Qingqiu needs to figure his shit out because the "accidental" flirting is horse shit. p245

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 "Why does it sound like i've become your father" p246. NO THANKS. But also no wonder it feels weird as fuck- SQQ does not want to be LBH's daddy (in that way).

OOP! FINALLY. Luo Binghe is totally sus about SQQ's knowledge about the future and other things he really shouldn't know. I really hope it's revealed that he is from another world and Luo Binghe is chill with it. p248

Liu Qingge walks into any room in which SQQ was seemingly alone: p250

This is a side note but I really like Qi Qingqi, this woman is fierce as fuck. Like no nonsense I would 100% trust her with my life, death, and rebirth. I do suspect that she doesnt play a large role in the story but I wish she was present more. I do totally want to eventually read some fics with her in them because she is such a badass. p254

Dang! So the realm merging begins! I am sad though that they don't want SQQ to go, but I get it; he keeps running away or getting grievously injured. Also it's so weird that no one is really questioning how he has this much knowledge of future events, they just kind of accept it and run with it LOL (except Luo Binghe who has done the most questioning). pp256-257

Xuan Su is so fucking cool!!!!! p257

Well I am sure that LBH reputation points will increase now that he's saved Zhao Hua Monastery! p260 Thank fuck too, because I really wasn't seeing a positive end game for him and SQQ if he wasn't able to turn his reputation around.

This cheeky guy LOL "Shizun I have missed you, it's been so long" like the fool wasn't sitting in his lap the night before LOL pp261-262

SO AWKWARD LOL. LBH telling everyone who is important that he only cares for SQQ and will only do what SQQ wants him to do and will do absolutely anything for him. Meanwhile SQQ: . I DIED: "Peak Lord Shen has truly raised a good disciple. He's become our cultivation world's tremendous fortune." Though he said "raised a good disciple" the tone was no different from the way he might say "married a good husband." pp262-263

Well. I thought it was embarrassing before, but then we get hit with the "Luo Binghe nodded solemnly. "Yes." His face spread into a smile. "And Shizun is mine.". p265

I really love every conversation between SQH and SQQ. The understanding they have and the banter is so good pp266-267

LOL LBH : I am sooooo tired, let me fly with you? p268

LBH really is shameless! The public hand holding!!! Now it makes me want to read fics from LBH POV- we get SQQ this entire time, but I want to see what LBH has going on in there LOL. p269

He really was yeeted

RIP SQH. May you not die in that hole. pp270-271

[wonwoosthetic]

Finding something to fight for update coming back anytime soon…? Love this story 💜

a/n: i looooove writing for this series so so so much, thank you for enjoying it so far!! Here I have part 2 of how the reader and Joel met! Yes, there’s not much romance going on (just yet! the next part will be about their first few dates) but a lot have asked for a part 2 and since Joel is a single father who was left by his wife, I can imagine love for a random woman wouldn’t come easy to him ˙ᵕ˙ I still hope you and everyone reading this will enjoy and stay tuned for future chapters! Thank you for reading and thank you for sticking around to see more of their story unfold!🫶🏼

Btw: I changed the name of the series, I hope people won’t be too confused! <3

You’re Lonely. I Can Fix That. Pt. 2

pairing – Joel Miller x female!reader; Tommy Miller x female!reader (platonic!)

word count – 16.2k (don’t even get me started, this is starting to feel like a slow-burn😭)

warnings – fighting, tiniest bit of cursing, bad writing of southern accents (somebody pls teach me)

synopsis – part 2 of this request; slowly but we’re getting there ˙ᵕ˙ the reader and Joel are getting closer🤭

series masterlist

1999

You did, in fact, not find a way to contact him. At least none that wouldn't require you to jump over your shadow and contact Tommy Miller first.

Every afternoon you had to spend in your parents' restaurant mostly consisted of you standing by the counter, and your head shooting up at the sound of the door opening. None of those times had it been either one of the Miller brothers - but each time you had hoped it would be. Praying and pleading that the universe had some last specks of luck left for you. But it seemed like destiny was not on your side at that time. Or maybe it was. How could you possibly know if he was as good as he pretended to be? Maybe the kindness Joel had shown you was just his way of holding up a normal conversation with no ulterior motives after all. Asking you about your future plans and dreams, telling you about his daughter, and driving you home seemed to be just the naturally kind gestures of a Southern gentleman... Or maybe it was just an act and in reality, whoever was up there was saving you from a big mistake before it could even happen. 

'I think that if he was a real gentleman and if the looks he gave you were real, he'll find a way to contact you.'

Maria's words were once again haunting you. Even with your hopes already slowly vanishing in ever seeing the oldest Miller again. He was a gentleman, no doubt. He had to be... right? There was almost no possible way he had put on a mask before entering that bar. But...

You shook your head. Your best friend might be a good people reader, but she's also well-known for her delusions. It was fun and made life much more exciting, that you had to agree with. Having a campus crush and calling him 'your man' when all he did was thank you and call the essay you wrote a 'great piece of work', was how you kept life interesting. It was easy entertainment. Normally, it was all fun and games, something you could tease each other with, but this was different. Because with Joel, you noticed it too. You may not have noticed the 'looks he gave you', but what man would just 'like to make sure you got home safe'? Or maybe you were potentially just looking too much into it. Maybe Maria had already infected you with her delusions.

'It's a small town, it can't be that hard.'

Well... it seemed to be very hard because it had already been close to a month. And neither of you had found a way or were interested enough to look for one. At some point, you had to get the fantasy of Joel Miller you had made up in your mind out of your head. There was no way a man could possibly occupy such a big part of your brain and control how you'd act at work.

There was only one man in the past who had the same kind of grip on you as Joel Miller now had. And that guy broke your heart when he admitted to cheating on you and getting Chlamydia from the college girl he fucked. Fun times...

Other than that, the topic of boyfriends hadn't ever been more than just plain and simple entertainment for you. You didn't use them. And you never would, because, after all, you were a lover girl at heart. But they just didn't make you nervous. Usually.

You could vividly recall each and every time you managed to make a man bring you to his house and let you spend the night, just as much as the number of times you barked at them to leave you alone in a club. Yes, they were big and scary men, but you were a woman raised by an older sister who inherited the generational trauma from your mother and anger issues from your father. If you didn't want them near you, you wouldn't let them.

Crushes came and went, and the ones that stayed, you were usually able to turn into something as serious as a few fun nights or even take it a little further and turn them into the two relationships you have had in the past. But that was it. 'Chlamydia boy', as Maria had baptized him, was the last one you had let occupy your mind as much as he did. 

That was until Joel goddamn Miller, in his 6ft, wide shoulders, itty bitty waist, rough hands, curly hair, shaggy beard, and grungy voice glory, just had to walk into that bar. Now you were daydreaming about a 30-year-old construction worker and single father all while he was probably just enjoying the evenings off-duty he got to spend with his daughter, looking forward to the next parent-teacher conference where the other mothers would be gawking at him and drooling while following him around like lost puppies.

That's how you found yourself. A birthday and a whole month later, in your family's restaurant just like almost every afternoon. You had finished another small exam and were finally able to enjoy the first rays of sunshine that were peeking through the clouds during the colder winter months on the way to work. But even the big windows couldn't even to some extent let you feel the freedom and fresh air from the outside. Sometimes you wondered if you should at some point regret coming back to Texas to help your family. 

Back then, you had been ecstatic about the mere thought of moving away, seeing more than what that small town you grew up in had to offer. That's why you decided to study out of state. You started building your life out there. A new life. But one call from your mother, asking you to come back was all it took. You couldn't tell her simply 'no'. Not when she was explaining that your father, due to his age, was advised not to work normal shifts on his legs anymore as they were slowly giving up on him. So, you listened to her. You packed your bags and came back. You found a place of your own and a roommate to share it with. You were accepted into the college you so desperately tried to avoid during the application process back in high school and continued your studies only 30 minutes away from the house you grew up in and the garden you used to play in.

You weren't allowed to regret your decision. Not if it meant helping your parents keep the restaurant alive they had worked their entire life for.

"Where's my daughter?" The frantic voice of your mother made you sigh out loud as you made sure to fix the name tag on the right side of your shirt. "Is she here already?" Her quick footsteps echoed through the kitchen until they stopped in the doorway of the small staffroom.

"I'm here, Mom," you answered her with the slightest hint of annoyance. The simple sound of her stressed-out sound and heavy breathing could get your blood pumping in an instant. She has always been a stressed person - making situations much more hectic than needed.

A heavy huff fell from her lips. "Y'are late," she simply stated.

With a roll of your eyes, you passed her, putting your hair up in a ponytail just like you usually would. "I'm not late, I had an exam. I told you that."

"I guess, I forgot... 'bout that...," she thought out loud. "Anyways," she was quick to change the subject, hot on your tracks, following you up to the counter overlooking the somewhat empty tables. You only could sigh again. "I'll have to leave earlier today. I need to go to the pharmacy before it closes. The doctor gave ya dad a new prescription," she explained. Another new one... was there ever going to not be another medication this man would be put on? The medical bills were already piling up - you remembered the stack of letters addressed to your father you had seen just the day before when you came over for the usual Sunday family dinner.

"Y'are okay with closing? Jimmy might stay with ya if I ask him." Jimmy, the head chef of the kitchen behind you and a long-family friend. He was in his fifties and had a wife and three kids waiting at home for him each night.

You shook your head, "No, it's fine. I... I think I can clean up by myself, but thanks," sending her a tight smile that got a big grin out of her.

"Great!" She grabbed your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "I'll leave in a bit, alrigh'?" You nodded as an answer, your eyes already on the notes for the day your mother had put on the counter, out of eyesight from customers. And with that, you got to work.

Mondays weren't all that busy, usually. The construction workers from around the area would come in and order their usual big servings that had been keeping the family business going. Some teenagers spent their lunch break by the tables, working on their homework and having a quick meal. Just like every other day.

With a sigh, you pushed through the swinging door, separating the kitchen from the counter area of the restaurant. Three plates filled with the extra portions some of the construction workers asked for balances on your hands and left arm. In moments like this, you were thankful for the low number of customers. You rushed over to bring them their food in a respectful time, getting a round of charming 'thank you's in return, to which you nodded politely.

Just as you were about to get back behind the counter, hoping to find the next thing to focus on until new customers would come in, your eyes found a familiar face, sitting in a booth all by themselves. You smiled to yourself, watching the little kid's head buried in the book in front of them as they frantically continued to write something down with their right hand. 

It was the Parker's son, Miles. A young, very bright boy, who was way too mature for his age of only 10. The first time you had seen him in your parent's restaurant, you thought somebody had forgotten him. But no, he just enjoyed the background noises of the diner in the background while doing his schoolwork. He usually showed up a few times a week, would take a seat quietly and not ask for anything unless a waiter or waitress came over to him first. 

As you began working part-time, you took on the responsibility of being that exact person. You'd approach him and ask him for his order, adding a free hot chocolate or lemonade to whatever he desired - you paid for it out of your own pocket by the end of the day.

"Well hello, young man," you walked up to the boy with a soft smile on your face. The sound of your voice made him look up, pushing his glasses back up higher on the bridge of his nose.

"Hi, Y/N," he grinned at you shyly. It was only then you realised how much you had missed his rosy cheeks.

"I haven't seen you in so long. I got worried already," you admitted. It was the truth. You hadn't seen him in a good three weeks, which was very much out of the ordinary. In a small town, you would've expected to hear rumours and chatter about every family, but the Parkers seemed like a mystery to most apparently.

Miles shrugged, his eyes back down to his book. "I'm okay."

The tone of his voice told you otherwise. He wasn't a very expressive kid, to begin with, so the change in his tone stood out.

"Are you sure?" You quietly sat down on the opposite side of the booth. You were in no position to interrogate him, and neither were you the best with children - at least that's what you thought. But you were a good advice giver and could read a room usually pretty well.

It took a few seconds of silence before he spoke up again. "Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce."

Oh.

The instability of his family was no secret - your mother had caught you up with everything going on behind their closed doors as she and Miles' grandmother were part of the Saturdays' flea market in town. And that woman had no filter when it came to the 'monster of a husband her daughter had married'.

"I see," you nodded gently. "And... you're okay with that?" It was a stupid question, yes, but how else were you supposed to not just let him sit in misery, the thoughts of his parent's divorce occupying way too much of this little kid's mind.

"I think so, yes." Miles looked at the side of the table, his pencil gliding over a crack in the wood, "Grammy said it's good. And Mommy has been crying less. So... I think I'm happy."

Your heart shattered just hearing his words. No child should ever have to go through something like that.

"Daddy said I'm not allowed to come here anymore." You glanced at him with a slight scrunch in your eyebrows. "But now I live with Mommy and Grammy, and they don't really care where I am after school, so I came back," he sent you an innocent bright smile. His bright face almost sent tears to your eyes.

"They do care where you are Miles," you tried to explain to him, not even knowing if it was the truth, but why should a child even dare to think that the authority figures in his life didn't 'care' about him. "They just... they probably know how happy you are whenever you're here. That's why they let you come over."

You noticed as he tried to avoid your eyes, glancing out the window as he spoke, "But I'm only happy when you're here too," he admitted.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you took a deep breath, about to give him an answer back, wanting to let him know how much brighter your day got whenever you got to see him, but he beat you to it.

"That's Sarah Miller," his finger was pressed up against the glass. "With her dad." Unfazed, he turned his attention back to his notes. "His name's Joel."

"What?" You accidentally muttered out, your head snapping to the window. The black pick-up truck came right into view. The one he brought you home in. Your eyes followed his every move as he opened one of the back doors, helping his daughter out of the car. He held out a hand for her to take, but she ignored it and jumped with a big smile. A whole goddamn month it took for you to finally see his face again. 30 days, if not more. Just as you had been on the verge of forgetting about your encounter with the oldest Miller brother, he suddenly decided to show up. At your family's restaurant out of all places. 

Frozen in place, you couldn't help but stare, forgetting about the fact that a window worked both ways. You got lucky as he seemed to not have seen you, passing by and walking over to the front door while Sarah was skipping around the parking space in excitement. The pounding heart in your chest made you gulp.

"How do you know them?" You suddenly asked.

Miles continued to write in his notebook. "Sarah's in my class. She's nice."

"And-"

"I told her about this restaurant. Told her I like you and the food. And the free drink you always bring me," he sent you a quick grin, making you chuckle. The smile vanished quickly though as the sound of the bell above the entrance door rang through the room. To everyone else, it was just another customer coming in, but to you, it was the desperate crush on a 30-year-old man, who had no business occupying your mind as much as he did. There was no time to continue your daydream of finally seeing him again as he and his little one walked further into the restaurant, looking around to see which empty table they'd claim. Joel proposed the one in the corner right next to the door, which Sarah seemed to be okay with after taking another quick glance around the open space. They'd be waiting for someone to come and take their order. And that someone should be you. It had to be you. There was no other waiter on shift for this afternoon.

"I'll be right back," you quickly excused yourself, making Miles glimpse at you in slight confusion at your rushed tone, but the notebook in front of him was much more interesting anyway.

With a few deep breaths, you strutted across the floor, brushing over the apron covering the front of your thighs. You passed the register area to snatch the small notepad you used during your shift before finally making your way over to the duo.

Just before you were close enough to their table to stop, you heard the girl's faint voice mumble, "He said he'd be here." Her head turned upwards to grin at you as soon as you came to a halt, pen and paper in your grip.

"Hey, what can I get for you, guys?" You clicked the back of the bullet point pen.

Joel snapped his head up, his brown eyes staring at you as soon as your voice registered in his head. His lips parted, stopping for a second before he spoke up.

"O-Oh- hey," he sat up straighter.

"Hi," you smiled at him, slapping yourself internally at greeting him a second time when you literally just did that.

"Hey," he nodded, his lips curling up just a bit. "Y/N... right?"

While the name Joel Miller had branded itself onto your brain, he seemed to not even be sure about your first.

You nodded with a tight smile that was close to disappearing, but you had to keep a professional face on, "Yeah- yeah, Y/N," and pointed to yourself like an idiot. His eyes didn't leave your face, almost dragging you in, but you were quick to snap back, the sound of someone clearing the throat to your left catching you off-guard.

"Introduce me, Dad," Sarah tried to whisper, holding her hand to the wrong side of her mouth, where you could still clearly see her lips moving.

"Hm?" Joel's head turned towards her, "Oh- that's... that's Sarah. My daughter."

With a wide grin, the girl reached her hand out to you, which you gladly accepted, shaking it with a similar facial expression.

"Nice to meet you, Sarah."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Y/N." Once she dropped your hand again, her gaze quickly flicked over to her dad, who politely coughed into his elbow. "Do you know my, Dad?" She suddenly wondered.

"I- ehm...," you were quick to open your mouth before you could even come up with a full reply, wanting to kick yourself in the shin.

Thankfully, Joel decided to answer her, "She's a friend of Uncle Tommy."

Sarah gasped, her eyes widening, "You know Uncle Tommy too?" She gazed up at you in amazement, making you chuckle. Calling you a 'friend' was much easier than explaining your relationship with him to a 9-year-old, so you accepted it.

You nodded, "I do. I met him a long time ago." Not a lie.

"Cool," she said out loud, looking down at her intertwined fingers on top of the table. "What do you-"

"Babygirl, you wanted to eat, didn't you?"

The voice of her dad made her lift her head to grin at him, "Can I get pancakes?"

Joel put the menu he was holding down with a soft sigh, but a kind curl to his lips, "You can ask Y/N if you want to."

Quickly, she whipped her head towards you, "Can I have pancakes, please?"

You couldn't hold back a subtle chuckle. "Of course." The fact that pancakes were on your breakfast menu was unimportant. If the girl wanted pancakes, you'd get her her pancakes, even if it was close to 5pm. "And for you?" You turned to the man on your right.

"Can I get a simple turkey sandwich? And a black coffee?"

You nodded, writing down just quick abbreviations to remember their order. "Coffee's free here," you added.

"Oh, great," he commented, putting his hands down on the table, "That's all then."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Joel gave you a nod and a grin, his attention back to his little girl as soon as you turned around and heard her whisper.

"Why do you know so many people?" Making you chuckle.

In the kitchen, you handed over their orders to Jimmy, who glanced at you with a frown, re-reading your handwriting on the piece of paper.

"Pancakes? At 5?"

"Can you do that? It's for a little girl, she's really sweet."

With a wink, he moved over to the stove, "'Course I can, no worries."

You grinned, "Thanks, Jimmy."

Getting a, "No worries, kid," in return.

Just as you were about to leave, you made a stop at the fridge, opening it to get the glass jug of homemade lemonade. Along with three clean glasses from the cabinets right above your head. You filled them up equally before putting the lemonade back and heading out to the counter again, balancing all three on a tray. You didn't expect the man standing right across from you, making you stop in your tracks.

"Hey," Joel smiled at.

"Hi," you copied him. Again, feeling the need to slap yourself. How many times have you now said these two words in exchange to each other? 

"I...," he started, looking around the empty bar area. His hands glided into the back pockets of his jeans before he locked eyes with you again. "I'm sorry, I... Sarah- she forgot to order a drink. Is it okay if I- can I do that here?"

"Yeah," you nodded your head frantically, putting down the tray, as your eyes landed on the filled-up glasses. "I- I was actually just about to bring two of these over to you guys." Taking them into your grip and lifting them to his eyesight.

"Oh- did she-"

"They're like a... signature thing here. I thought you'd... might want something to drink." You placed them down on the bar top, "On the house."

"Oh no, I can't let-" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"No worries. A little welcome gift," you brushed him off, your fingers slowly digging into the wood below you.

Slightly hesitant, Joel reached out for the two lemonades.

"Gotta keep the customers coming back somehow," you added with a soft chuckle, getting a humourous laugh from him in return.

"Yeah... well..." he turned back to take a quick glance at his daughter before looking back at you, "we might be coming back more often anyways. Sarah got a recommendation from a classmate... and she's been really beggin' me to take her here. And we were in the area, so..."

"Miles, yeah... he- he told me," you nodded along with his storytelling, fidgeting with the dainty bracelet on your wrist - an older Christmas gift from your sister.

Joel raised his eyebrows in interest, "You know him?"

"Yeah," you nudged your head over to the left side of the diner, with the boy in the only occupied booth, "He's sitting over there."

"Aah...," he took a deep breath in, "Gotta make sure to tell Sarah," he mumbled slightly more to himself, but you were still able to catch it.

"Are they friends?"

Joel slightly shrugged his shoulder, "I guess so, yeah... they're both in an advanced Math course for middle schoolers, so... yeah."

"Advanced Math?" You wondered in astonishment. He hadn't told you all too much about her back in the car a few weeks ago, so this was news to you. You knew Miles was in that course, Christ, he had proven it to you many times before whenever you asked if he needed help with his homework, but you didn't know Joel's daughter went the same path. "A little genius."

"Yeah," the older Miller brother chuckled, looking down at his feet, "Kinda like you," he met your eyes. "I mean- not like you... really... because, you know, not... College level, but... she- she's interested in it too. But I- I guess... I don't know if she's really interested in it, but she seems to enjoy it so far, so..."

If your eyes and ears weren't playing with you, you could almost hear a slight added raspiness to his voice as he tried to avoid your gaze, talking on and on about his daughter. The grin making its way onto your lips was only an indication of your amusement at his rambling.

"I understand," you laughed. "Smart girl."

He nodded gently to himself, "That she is... she sure is..."

Your awkward chuckle was followed by a second of silence. Maybe a few seconds, actually. Joel could've excused himself to go back to the booth they chose, but he didn't even move an inch. Not even made an indication that he wanted to leave. Your eyes travelled around the counter, trying to look for something to busy yourself with, but there were no notes left, every other customer (there weren't a lot) seemed to be happy, so there was nowhere to go for you. You were stuck to stand still across from him, forced to bring the conversation to a halt as neither one of you knew what to possibly say next. Not until you went through each line that had spilled from his lips, remembering-

"You said you were in the area? Do you live here... or...?" What a smart move. Ask the stranger if he lived close to where you're working, fucking creep.

Joel cleared his throat, politely holding up a fist to his lips. "No no, she- Sarah... she has soccer practice every Monday 'round here."

"Oh," your eyes lit up, "At the old Ramson's field?" The corners of the man's lips curled up at the mention of the area that was once a strawberry farm. It was sold years ago by an elderly couple, the Ramsoms, to give the kids a place to run around freely. Somebody took the chance and turned it into a local soccer team's training ground.

"Yeah, exactly that. You know it?"

You nodded excitedly, "My sister used to go there. She was really active. Always the sporty one in the family, you know..."

For a second, Joel pursed his lips, smiling to himself before he answered. "So... sister's the sporty one and you're the smart one? Your parents got lucky."

"Well...," you talked down his compliment with a soft chuckle, "I don't know if I'd say I'm the smart one...," thinking about your next words for not longer than a second, "I did get in the car of a basically stranger who took me home while I was definitely intoxicated, so... don't know how smart that really is." Smirking at the mention of the evening.

The older Miller's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Why would you do- Oh." Stopping himself before he could continue. He shook his head with a laugh, "Right... yeah..." Just for a second, he had forgotten how truly unfortunate, or maybe not so unfortunate, your first meeting actually had been. "But," he took a deep breath in, "You got home safe. So it was a smart move, I guess."

"I got home very safe, yes," you agreed, a dreamy smile playing on your lips, as you pulled your hands back to yourself, feeling the chipped wood digging into your fingertips. "Thank you, again... really."

"All good," he gave you an assuring nod, "Rather getting in the car of a stranger than hangin' out with Tommy's group of... whatever they are."

You couldn't hold back the laughter coming from your lungs at his clear dislike of his younger brother's group of friends. Already back in the bar, it was clear to tell Joel was not a fan of them or the comments they made or truly anything about them all together, and he seemed to like making that very clear. He joined in your laughter with a slightly softer one, only to be interrupted as a voice from behind you suddenly shouted out.

"Pancakes and a ham sandwich!" Jimmy came through the swinging doors, the two plates in each of his hands as he stood next to you.

You turned to the side, giving him a quick smile.

"Oh- you were quick, thanks."

"I can take 'em," Joel was about to reach out, wanting to take his order, when you stopped him.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll bring them over," you assured him. "In a second."

"You sure?" He asked you cautiously.

You nodded, your lips pressed together tightly. "A girl's gotta work," you shrugged with a smile.

Joel gave you a quick nod before taking the two glasses of lemonade and going back to his table, the eyes of the little girl waiting for him getting big as she saw what he had brought along. You grinned at the sight.

"Y'sure you wanted to make the girl happy or the dad?" The old man's voice rang through your ear. Your head snapped towards him, taking a step in defence back.

"'Xcuse me?"

Jimmy shook his head in amusement, putting down the two plates of food. "I was in there tryin' to avoid interruptin' you two, but Lord..."

"What?" You wondered, a slight edge to your tone as you were interested in hearing what he was about to say.

He glanced at you with a soft smirk. "It was painful listenin' to that poor attempt of a flirt."

"A flirt? By who?" 

"Y'know damn well by who," he pointed a strict finger at you, the smile still evident on his face as you tried to hide your own.

You arrogantly lifted your head, making sure to stick your nose up extra high as you crossed your arms. "I have no idea what you're talkin' abou'," purposely copying his very Southern accent badly. "That wasn't flirtin'."

"Damn right, it wasn't."

"Oh, I'm sorry that I don't have forty years of flirting experience," you bit back jokingly, about to snatch the two plates off the counter.

Jimmy scoffed with a shake of his head, "I wasn't talkin' 'bout you, darlin'." And with those words, he left through the doors again, going back into the kitchen.

You stopped in your tracks, hurriedly following him. 

"Wait-," you called out, "You think he was flirting with me?"

"A poor attempt of a flirt," he corrected you, his back already turned to you as he started cleaning the counters. Before you could say anything more, he stopped you with a raise of his hand, "Go back to work, sweet pea. We'll talk about this later," giving you a last wink.

-

Joel and Sarah got their meals, and you brought Miles his free lemonade as well. It was already past 7pm, almost closing time as you usually locked the doors at 8pm. Most customers had left, besides a few teenagers you decided to hang around for a bit, enjoying the cheap prices of the food. The father-daughter duo in the corner had split up, leaving the oldest Miller brother to sit alone at the table, his finger furiously trying to type out a message on his phone, only to give up with an annoyed sigh and switch to calling the person. His little girl had joined Miles at his table after her dad had told her that he was there.

It was a rare sight. You had never seen the young boy interact with people his age. Or really with anyone but you or your mom. Other adults had tried to make a few conversations work, only to be met with silence from him. He didn't enjoy talking to strangers much, understandably so. The sound of the two giggling brought warmth to your heart and a smile to your face. He hardly ever grinned as much with you as he did right at that moment with her. You had no idea he even had people around him that could make him this happy. He didn't even smile at his mother when you once saw her pick him up. It was a one-time-only experience, he usually took the bus home alone. Sometimes you accompanied him, just out of fear and worry as to who would even think to let their own child travel by public transport in the dark. But maybe that was your big-city brainwashed mind talking and small-town parents saw the world completely differently than you did.

"We got any new ones?" Jimmy's smoker voice brought you back to the present and made your eyes leave the two kids to look at him.

You shook your head, "No, I think that was it for tonight, you can start closing up." You rarely ever got any new customers past 7:30, so you gave him the o.k. to clean up in the back while you started at the front.

Rounding the counter, you passed the tables, now empty, to get the last few plates and glasses that were left by people who had left merely a few minutes ago. Some others noticed you cleaning, handing you over everything they didn't need any more along the way. With full hands, you came back to the bar area, placing each dirty plate, glass, and mug on the window sill, between the front area with the kitchen. Jimmy gave you a grateful smile as he got a hold of them.

As you turned around, you were once again faced with the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of Joel Miller standing in front of you. He had stacked their two plates together, with the cutlery right on top, and the now empty lemonade glasses right next to them.

"Oh-," you chuckled, "Thank you," taking them off the counter to turn around and put them on the sill as well.

"It was really good, so, thank you," he commented with a tight smile.

"I'll let the chef know."

"The chef knows!" The older man shouted out from the kitchen, letting his head peak out the window with a big grin. His facial expression made both of you chuckle.

You turned back to face the oldest Miller, glancing up at him slightly shyly, not even trying to hide it. "You're leaving?"

Joel nodded, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Yeah... Tommy needs to get picked up. And Sarah's got school tomorrow. Gotta check if the homework's all done." You nodded along to every single word dripping from his lips, even daring to take a few quick glances down to see each movement and curve of them. "I mean- she always does them, I don't... I don't think she'd ever not do her homework, she'll even do them in short breaks or... in the car or something. But..."

"Just to make sure," you grinned at him, blocking his further rambling.

Joel nodded, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "Exactly... yeah..." He opened his mouth just a bit one more time, but wouldn't dare to speak, making you wait in silence, begging he would continue whatever his mind had come up with next.

He cleared his throat, looking over at his little girl, before switching back to you. "I- I should get her."

You gave him a hasty nod, "Yeah, yeah, of course."

Just as he passed the counter to walk over to the two kids who still seemed to be as giggly as they were 30 minutes ago, Joel turned back around.

He called out your name, making you whip your head around with hope.

"Yeah?"

"D'you know if his parents are gonna come pick him up?"

Not the question you were desperately waiting to come out of his mouth, but at least something.

You shook your head, "No, he usually takes the bus. I'll go with him after closing."

Hesitantly, but still, he nodded, mumbling a quick, "Alright," before continuing to make his way over to the other corner of the diner.

In the meantime, you got back to wiping down the front counter, before moving onto each table in the room. Even the ones that hadn't been used that day, you made sure to clean. In the position you were in, you could see Joel and Sarah heading for the front door, only to stop and wave at you.

"I'll see ya," the oldest Miller smiled, "Have a good night." You waved back, chuckling as Sarah excitedly waved as well.

"Bye, it was nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"You too, Sarah. Good night."

Your eyes didn't leave their forms until they were back in the car after Joel opened one of the doors on the passenger side in the back, waiting for his daughter to jump in. You couldn't help but grin at the sight. Other customers who passed you, said their goodbyes, making you walk over to their tables to collect the money they left for the food they had eaten. Arrived at the table the father-daughter had occupied merely minutes ago, you glanced at the money, counting the bills with your fingers only to realise the generous tip Joel had left for you. Damn it, there you were smiling again.

-

Miles was entertaining himself outside, still in the same booth while you joined Jimmy in the kitchen. Every table had been swiped over, the counter cleaned to perfection, the cashier counted and the money stored safely in the safe. You had found a comfortable place on top of one of the counters in the kitchen, a mug of the last bit of coffee that was in the pot now in your hand. Just as you were about to take a sip, a groan fell from your lips as the memory hit you.

"Huh? What?" The older man looked up from the floor he was sweeping over.

"I forgot to give him his coffee...," you mumbled out loud.

Jimmy's thick brows furrowed, "Who?"

"Joel..." He had ordered a black coffee. You had even told him it was free, and he never got to taste it... but then again, he didn't ask you a second time...

He seemed to think for a second before the corners of his lips curled up, "Aaah, Sir Handsome."

Your head shot up in confusion, "What? Sir Handsome? Really?"

Jimmy just shrugged, "That's what I'm gonna call him."

"His name's Joel. Joel Miller."

"Miller?!" He stopped in his tracks, coming to a halt with the chore, almost dropping the broom to sit against the counter. "From 'round here?"

You nodded.

"Miller, like Thomas Miller?!"

You glanced at him in confusion. "You mean Tommy Miller?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Whatever that punk's name was," and went back to cleaning up. His reaction got a chuckle out of you.

The name Tommy Miller, or like Jimmy sacred to call him, Thomas Miller, had embranded itself onto the entire staff of the Diner. Even past employees knew about him. Hell, even the food inspectors that used to come around once a year knew about him - he had the fantastic idea of following the lady around the diner like a lost puppy, flirting with her the entire time. The fact that she was well over 30 and he just a good 18 years old was so not important to him at the time.

He and his entourage were well-known around the area for multiple reasons. Their bad reputation had followed them all throughout their teenage and young adulthood, leaving a memory of their presence with each and every one who had ever come in touch with them.

"Yeah... they're... brothers."

With a clearly unamused facial expression, Jimmy glared at you, making you sit up straighter in an instant.

"Joel's the older one. And he's nothing like Tommy," you assured him. "I promise."

"And how d'you know that, young lady?" He popped his hip out to the right side, leaving the broom to lean against the counter as he took in his stance.

Jimmy might not be your father, but he's someone's. And you can tell. Your dad had been sick for longer than you'd like to remember, leaving Jimmy to take on the role of the next best thing of a male parental figure with a slight touch of a close friend.

"He- We...," you sighed, looking at the booth behind you to take a quick peek at Miles, colouring some pictures you had given him as entertainment. "I was at a bar-"

"When?" He nagged.

"Not too long ago."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago," you answered him with a sigh, trying to continue the story, when he interfered again. He shook his head, sighing your name out loud as he ran a hand over his face.

"Jimmy-"

"I won't tell your Mom, don't worry," he raised his hands in defence. "Just wantin' to know you were safe."

"I was," you told him, "partially thanks to Joel." Making him frown. "So. As I said. I was at a bar and Tommy, Joel's brother, was there with his group of friends-"

"Oh, Lord, help me...," Jimmy mumbled.

"Not his teenage friend group!" You called out, "I don't think so at least... I don't know," you brushed off the thought, "Anyways, I was there and Tommy invited me to sit with them. And at first, I wasn't really sure, but then Joel came too and I was like... why not, you know?" The older man gave you a knowing smirk. "But that quickly turned into a mistake because his friends, high school friends or not, were jerks, so I wanted to go home, but I had a few drinks, so Joel drove me home."

"You gave a random man your address?!"

"This is a small town!" You defended yourself, "If he was bad news, everyone would know!"

"That's not the point-"

"The point is!" You interrupted him, "I only got into his car because he was genuinely nice and the only one of them all that listened to me and actually seemed like he wanted to talk to me at that table." The part of your best friend technically forcefully reserving you a seat in the passenger side of his car was left out.

"Yeah...," Jimmy shook his head with a sigh, "You know who else was this charismatic?"

"Who?"

"Ted Bundy."

"Jimmy!" You threw your head back with a big laughter erupting from your lungs.

The audacity to even compare these two men.

"Dark hair, dark eyes, nice smile. Sounds like Ted to me." Like he knew the guy...

"You can't say that," you scolded him, wiping away the tear that had fallen from your eye in the middle of the fit of laughter. He joined you with a wholehearted chuckle, coming closer, to stand right across from you.

"So, what about him?" He suddenly turned serious, crossing his arms in front of his small beer belly.

You shrugged. "I like him," thinking for a second before continuing. "I only met him once- well, twice now, and I think he's really handsome. But... I don't know. I don't think he looks at me like that. This crush might be one-sided."

"Why not? Y'are a pretty lady!" He called out with another frown. It would let people believe he was mad when only compliments kept falling from his lips. "Ya smart, good with kids, polite. Why wouldn't he like ya?"

"He didn't even remember my name from the last time we met!"

Jimmy couldn't hide his smirk of amusement, "Sweetheart..."

"What? This isn't funny! I'm in a crisis."

"Y'are wearin' a name tag."

Your right hand immediately flew up to your chest and onto the plaque you always wore on the right side of your shirt. Glancing down, you saw the piece of plastic staring right back at you. How could you even forget that you were wearing that thing?

"But why..."

"I told ya," the old man shrugged his shoulder with a chuckle, "A poor attempt of a flirt."

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, hopping down from the corner to take off the apron and mentioned tag. "That's really what you call flirting?"

"I think, he's a man probably somewhere around his thirties with a little girl by his side. How much female attention ya think he's been gettin'?"

"Have you seen him?" You stared at him with wide eyes. "I think quite a lot."

"Okay, how much female attention ya think he's lettin' get to him? This man probably hasn't even spent a night with another woman in YEARS. Where's the mom anyways?"

You shrugged, "Izzy said she got pregnant in college and everyone just thought he left her. But he has a daughter now and I hardly believe he would let his high school sweetheart alone with a baby while keeping one from another woman."

"Ya really thought a lot 'bout that, huh?"

With a smirk, you looked up at the ceiling before glancing to the side, trying to avoid his eyes as you mumbled, "Maybe a little..."

"If ya asked ya sister 'bout it, I doubt it was a little," he chuckled, noticing how riled up you were getting about the subject as you threw your apron on the counter.

"Alright! I thought about it a lot, okay?! I don't want to come off too strong when he has a whole family waiting for him at home. But so far... I don't think he has... but... I don't know." You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "I have to get my information somehow."

"Could also just ask him, ya know?" Jimmy tapped your head as he snatched your apron off the counter after taking off his own and heading towards the employees' closet.

"I feel like that's rude. Imagine just talking to someone, kinda 'cause you're forced to do it and suddenly she's all up your business, asking you about romantic partners and whatnot." You came to a halt in the doorway, leaning against it as you watched him pull out his jacket and hand you your own.

"I don't think he'd be flirtin' so poorly with a girl if he had someone at home. "He sent you a stern look, "And if he has and still does that, he's a piece of shit." Making you chuckle as you put on the piece of outerwear.

"Can you stop saying poor flirting? He was talking. Maybe he's trying. He was telling me about his daughter."

"Jesus, sweet pea, he told ya her entire life story. Ya could write her autobiography with all the ramblin' he did today," Jimmy joked, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed along with him as you grabbed your bag and headed back to the kitchen. "You're overreacting."

"Am not!" He told you. "The last time I sounded like that was when I tried to get to sweet talk my beautiful Betty." Your lips formed into a smile at the mention of his wife. This man could talk about her for HOURS. He's a true role model for the upcoming generation, and you were hopeful for his children getting to watch a couple truly in love right in front of their eyes.

"Plus," he added, "I have a cousin. Jeff. Single dad for three years. He's been tryin' to get himself out there again, and good God... Jesus help him. This man knows nothin'. Nothin'. That Joel kid reminds me of him a little," he stopped for a second to look at your blushed cheeks that had started to heat up. "Like I said, I didn't want to interrupt ya, but it was painful. Just like with Jeff."

You shook your head in defeat. There you had your confirmation. If what Maria had told you wasn't already enough, you better trust the wise words of a fifty-year-old man, married to the love of his life for a good thirty years.

"So," you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath in, "You think I have a chance?"

Jimmy sighed. He shook his head. After a step forward, he stopped right in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, only to cup your cheeks right after.

"My dear," he made sure you were looking him straight in the eyes. "I think ya could make a man build a castle with his bare hands for ya. And I think ya know that too."

You smirked, retrieving a small memory from that night in his truck. "Well... he is a constructor."

Jimmy gave you a laugh with his whole heart, pulling your face in to place a warm peck on the top of your head. He let you free again, giving you a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Just give that man some time. Y'are a beautiful lady. He's nervous." With a final nod, he left through the back door of the diner, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He knew you'd be taking the bus to make sure Miles got home.

Speaking of, the last sounds echoing through the empty area were your beating heart and the scraping of the coloured pencils getting dragged over the paper by Miles. Your head turned to the side, and with a smile, you watched the young boy.

Just give him some time.

-

A week later, on Tuesday, you saw him again.

Monday had passed and there had been no sign of Sarah or him. Miles had been at the diner, entertaining you with some casually fun stories from school, including the young Miller girl in a few of them, but never anything else. And you weren't going to pester him about why she hadn't visited the diner after her practice on Monday.

But there he was, strolling into the room on Thursday, 6:30 in the evening. You were writing down the order of a group of teenagers when you heard the bell above the door. Right after you lifted your head, just wanting to call out a quick, "Welcome!", your breath got caught in your throat, making you cough out loud awkwardly. With a hand in front of your lips, you tried to cover it up, going back to writing down the order before disappearing into the kitchen.

"He's here!" You shout-whispered at the cook, who whipped his head around.

"Who?" He wondered, answering you quickly, but as soon as he saw your wide-eyed stare, he got the message. Jimmy smirked as he placed two finished plates on top of the counter. His eyes drifted from your form over the open window out into the restaurant, his smile dropping in an instant.

"Fucking Miller," he cursed out loud. You turned around to follow his gaze, finding not only Joel but also Tommy taking a seat in a booth right across from you. The older Miller's head seemed to notice your stare, glancing up, only for you to quickly turn around again.

"What do I do?" You continued to whisper, now even more careful about the others possibly hearing you as they were only a few feet away and an open window wasn't much of a sound barrier.

The cook rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. "Get that punk out of the restaurant."

"Wh- Not Tommy! I don't mean him," you explained. "Joel."

Jimmy looked back at you, "Just be yourself, Jesus," grumbling something to himself that you couldn't quite understand.

Defeated, you took a deep breath in, reminding yourself of who you actually were and trying to get your act back together. If Maria could see you, she'd be filming you for a future Comedy sitcom - she'd have a field day with the state you were in. Nervous because of a man...

Just as you turned around, ready to face the outside world again, Jimmy's call out of your name made you stop.

"Huh?"

"Give me that," he nudged his head towards your hands.

"What?" With a frown you glanced down, seeing the order you had just written down, already long forgotten again. "Oh- right," you ripped the piece of paper off the block and put it on top of the counter before trying to walk away again. But there he was, the older man stopping you one more time.

"What?" You asked him, clearly on edge now, slightly amusing him.

"I swear to God, I'll spit in his food. Don't matter what he'll order." You knew exactly, who he was talking about, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

You pushed the swinging doors, taking a quick look around the space, trying to see if anyone needed something for you, but it was, just like the last few times, barely packed. Going past the counter, you crossed the floor to the other side of the restaurant, already noticing one side of the handsome face you had been so desperate to see again.

"Hey, guys," you approached them with a smile, stopping right by their table, now also finally getting a peek at the younger Miller. Both men were still in some type of work attire and you noticed the slight shine and curl to their hair. Tommy's was longer and darker, but you prefered Joel's.

"Hey, girly," the youngest grinned at you before slapping his older brother's arm that was perched up on the table. "See, I told you, she'd be here," he turned back to you, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Good, busy. The usual, you know. You?"

"Good, good," he continued, "Getting back into the American lifestyle, chasing the American Dream." You didn't notice the roll of the eyes from Joel.

You couldn't help but chuckle, "You're chasing the American Dream?"

"Sure am," he answered you proudly. "Might not be as smart as you are, but a man's gotta try."

"'Course, why not," you shrugged, a smile still on your lips, hoping your answer would be enough.

"So," he huffed out a big breath, taking the menu into his grip, pretending to read over it. "I heard your turkey sandwich and pancakes are still as good as I remember."

You had to admit, the thought of Joel and Sarah telling him about their dinner at the diner warmed your heart a bit.

"I mean," you smirked, "I might be a bit biased, but I'd say so, yeah. Jimmy's still making them as good as always."

"Jimmy's still here?" Tommy wondered, making you nod a take a step to the side, letting him take a quick peek into the kitchen. "Ey, Jimmy!" The old man turned around, meeting the young Miller's eyes with a glare. Tommy lifted his hand for a wave, but the cook's attention was already back on the food he was making.

"Still doesn't like me, I see," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly as you laughed.

"Wouldn't be surprised if he spat in your foot." Joel suddenly spoke up. You looked over to him, giggling at the comment, making his lips curl up in return.

"He offered," you let him know, getting a chuckle out of him,

"Well," he shot his brother an annoying smirk, "Aren't you a treat for this town."

Tommy looked up at you, a hasty response dropping from his lips, "Tell him I decline. Gladly." Before scowling at his older brother.

Suddenly, you felt like you were interrupting something between the two. With a deep breath, the younger Miller brother was back to his old self, fixing the fit of his jacket. "Well, then... I'll take the turkey sandwich and see if it's still holdin' up to the good ol' times."

Your lips curled up into a teasing grin, deciding to just throw out the comment tickling your tongue. "You're doubting Jimmy's talent?"

"I would never," he quickly told you, making you chuckle and gently shake your head before you diverted your attention to the older brother, seeing him already looking up at you. The menu was barely in his grip as his fingers played with the laminated corners of the paper.

"I'll take the same," waiting for you to be done writing it down asking Tommy to pass him his menu and handing both over to you.

Before you turned around to get the orders over to Jimmy, you asked, "Coffee?"

Joel nodded, "Sure, thank you," intertwining his hands on top of the table as he looked at you. He didn't comment on the fact you forgot about that the last time he was there. You sure wouldn't forget it this time.

"Make that two, please," Tommy quickly added with a thankful nod after you assured them to be right back.

-

Trying to keep your eyes off the man was harder than you had hoped it would be. While you were able to busy yourself with taking orders and repeatedly cleaning the counter - you swear, it had never been cleaner than that day - you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over to the seat right by the window.

Joel and Tommy were sipping the coffee you had brought them, munching on their sandwiches, hopefully, oblivious to the internal fight you had going on with yourself. Miles was almost finished with his free lemonade and you were actually close to getting him another one, just so you had something to do. You couldn't just lurk around the counter like you usually would, otherwise, you'd find yourself staring at one of the brothers for too long.

During your little cleaning frenzy, you were able to let not only Jimmy's words but also Maria's re-run in your mind again. The evening, right after Joel and Sarah had spent their evening time in the diner, your best friend got every single detail from you, the moment she stepped into the apartment at 4am. Yes, you had stayed up to tell her. The session ended at around 6, the sun lighting up the living room being the indication to finally go to bed, where you found yourself awake for another good 40 minutes, just begging for a good dream to finally find you.

You had recalled the entire few hours he was in the same room as you. The moment he and his daughter stepped into the diner, the brief conversation you guys had, the coffee you had forgotten, up until the moment he had to basically verbally drag Sarah away from Miles' booth to get her home. Maria's screeching and excited jumps on the couch made you smile to yourself as you remembered the evening. It came close to a miracle that you got away without a single purple mark on your arm, considering she was repeatedly hitting you, smacking the naked skin of your upper arm each time his name fell from your lips.

She had put extra emphasis on the "I'll see ya," Joel had left the diner with. To which you sadly had to explain to her the casual meaning of those few words. It was a somewhat polite way to say goodbye to someone you know, not necessarily meaning that you'll see each other again. Maybe indicating it, but definitely not meaning it word for word - but Maria stood her ground.

You had also told her about your gossiping session with Jimmy afterwards. She had only met him a handful of times, her own working hours not leaving her much time to come and visit you at the restaurant, so told tales would have to do it. But even without really knowing the man, she agreed to each and everything he had said. 

"You know, there's not a lot that I would believe coming from a man or even listen to. But if anyone knows about a man's poor flirting techniques, it would be another man."

You had hidden your face in one of the pillows on your couch, the heat shooting into your cheeks being almost too much to bear, resulting in another few slaps to your arm from her. Jesus, could could start giggling and kicking your feet right now too, just at the mere thought of there being some sort of truth to their words and Joel's actions. But there was a barrier of reality still right in front of you. Not only had Jimmy mentioned his 'poor attempt of a flirt' but also the fact that your not-so-silly little crush was a 30-year-old father, with possibly very limited dating experience in the past few years. It wasn't something you had even tried to consider before Jimmy mentioned it. Add the unnecessary comment from one of Tommy's friends back at the bar, and it suddenly made sense.

"This poor man probably has no idea that you're even interested in him," Maria had whined out loud, "He's trying his best, but God..." You chuckled at her voice in the back of your head.

You ditched your daydream the moment the coffee pot was fully filled up again, the coffee machine making its usual sound to let you know it was done. With that, you began your usual round within the diner, passing each person who was holding onto a cup, asking them for a refill. Most happily accepted your offer, leaving you with a half-empty pot once you reached the two brothers.

"Another cup for you two?"

Tommy smiled up at the sound of your voice, "Sure, thanks, Y/N." You made sure his mug was properly filled up before turning towards Joel, who politely declined.

"Not for me, but thank you," nodding his head at you.

"Still trying to cut down?" His younger brother wondered, speaking over the brim of the mug he had brought up to his lips.

Joel took a deep breath, "If you had a 9-year-old lecturing you about the effects of caffeine each morning, you'd start thinkin' about it too." The explanation got a chuckle out of Tommy and made your lips curl up into a smile. Before you even thought about turning around to walk back behind the corner, you decided to continue the conversation. Taking every shot you could, just like Maria had told you.

"How is she?" You asked, "Sarah."

The older Miller brother lifted his head with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, but you just continued to smile at him. Tommy continued to hold his cup up against his mouth, hiding the smirk forming on his lips.

"Good," Joel let you know, "Very good. She... She had a test today. Lot to study yesterday... so we couldn't come over."

"I see," you humed, "I was wondering where you guys were."

A brief moment of silence followed your comment, almost making you regret admitting to the longing. Thankfully, the younger Miller got up from his seat with a clearing of his throat, making Joel perk up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"Gonna take a piss. You wanna control that too?" Sending his older brother an unreadable facial expression, almost glare, before he disappeared to head towards the toilet.

You frowned when a sigh escaped Joel's lips. "Everything okay?" You asked him, eyeing the older man carefully as he ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "Just... Tommy being Tommy."

A chuckle fell from you, making you cover your lips with your fingers. "Sorry," you excused yourself as he lifted his head, "Just... if I had a dollar for every time I heard those words from someone with that expression... I wouldn't be working here anymore."

Joel laughed. You managed to get the scowl off his face to replace it with a genuine laugh. He looked down at the table, shaking his head, but you could see his shoulders shaking and the unmistakable sound of joy coming from him. You tried to hide your amusement, the moment he locked eyes with you again.

"I thought you worked here because you were a good daughter," he commented. He remembered the conversation in his truck. On the way to your place, you had briefly mentioned the reason you had come back to Texas. And he remembered.

You grinned, "Oh, I'm a great daughter." Joel chuckled. "But I wouldn't mind the extra cash." Your own words let a thought flash into your mind. "Speaking of," you started again, "Thank you for the tip... last week. It really- you... you didn't have to do that."

"All good," he sent you a quick smile, "Good service needs a good reward."

"Even though I forgot your coffee," you sheepishly admitted, just getting another chuckle out of him.

"We got good food and free drinks, so you won't find me complaining," he simply told you, making you smile and look down at the pot of coffee you were still holding onto.

"Well," you had started to tap around with your fingers, trying to look for the next words to say, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"'Course," he nodded at you before you turned around to get behind the counter again.

-

Only a few minutes later, the two brothers decided to call it a day and stand up to leave. You were just coming back out from the kitchen when you found them standing at the register, both smiling when you came to a halt.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," Tommy grinned at you, gently smacking his hand on top of the counter.

You chuckled, "Bye, have a good evening." 'Night' would've probably been more suitable as it was pitch black outside. A quick look towards the clock would also tell you it was already 7:51pm - almost closing time.

The younger one turned towards the exit door while Joel stood still, waiting for your eyes to lock again.

"I'll see you next week. Goodnight," he simply said with a smile, turning around without another word. His soft voice lingered in your head even after he was already through the doors and on his way to his beloved pick-up truck.

You quickly pulled yourself back into the presence. With a swift turn around, you rushed back into the kitchen. Even before the door was fully closed again, you were jumping around the space, getting a shocked facial expression from Jimmy in return.

"He said 'See you next week!!" You squealed in exactly, your arms moving around in the air as you got closer to the chef.

With a tight grip on his arm, you shook him, "He said 'SEE YOU NEXT WEEK'!"

The older man just grinned at you, shaking his head as he watched you dance around the kitchen.

"How much joy just a few words can bring to ya, kid," he softly spoke, throwing the dishcloth over his shoulder to cross his arms and lean against the counter.

"Just a few words?!" You stared at him, stopping your movements, "He just promised me that he'll come back next week! He WANTS to come back!" Reality hit you for a split second. "I sound really delusional, but I. Don't Care." Before starting your little happy dance around the space again. Jimmy's deep chuckles bounced off the walls.

"Can't remember the last time I've seen ya so happy." He admired the pure happiness spilling from you, filling the room with nothing but joy. With a sigh, your spinning around came to an end.

"I'm happy because I get to see a good-looking hunk of a man again! Can you blame me?"

"Hunk of a man?" Jimmy laughed out loud, his entire upper body shaking as he walked around the corner to push you towards the door. "Get to locking up and then ya can tell me all about Sir Handsome again."

"Okay!" You squealed again, pushing out the door, the echo of his laughter still in the background. Suddenly, getting through the rest of the week seemed to be much more enjoyable than before.

-

On Friday, one of the only days, you had gotten off of work at the diner, you decided to join Maria in the bar. While she was working, you were enjoying your time sitting at the counter once again. You were sipping on your second drink of the night, drinking slowly as you weren't looking for something wild tonight, but rather just enjoying a nice calm evening. It was around 11pm and even though you had been sitting there for a good 2 hours, there was not a massive amount of alcohol rushing through your body as you had asked your best friend to keep the drink mild. But some people had other plans that night.

"Well, hello there," a deep voice slurred next to you. With slight confusion you turned to the right, eyeing the man that had tumbled up to the bar counter.

You sighed, "Hey." Nothing against drunk people, hell, you were one of them from time to time, but God... sometimes you can just tell, you know?

He blinked at you, "A pretty little girl so alone in the middle of a bar in the middle of the night?" His dirty blonde hair was roughed up and the plaid button-up hung loosely around his frame. It seemed to be a size too big.

"Yeah," you nodded, "And I'd prefer to keep it that way, to be honest." For tonight, there were no plans. You were waiting for a beautiful man on Monday, that was plan enough.

The guy chuckled, holding onto the counter as he stumbled back, "I'm Cody and I'm sure I could change ya mind. I could show ya good time, I promise."

"You're trying to sell yourself here? I'm not interested, thank you," you simply told him, internally begging for Maria to come back to the front, but she was being kept busy in the back apparently. Nobody else seemed to be interested in what was going on between you and the drunk fuck next to you.

With slight confusion written across his face, he continued to stumble over his words. "Who says anythin' about sellin'? I ain't sellin' myself. Ya can get this here for free," pointing towards himself.

"As I said," you repeated yourself, making sure annoyance laced your voice, "Not interested." Just as you tried to get up and move, hoping to get behind the bar and into the backroom, you felt a tight grip on your arm.

"Listen," the man stopped you, "You don't know what ya missin' out on here, sweetcheeks."

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into if you continue to talk like that to me. Let go of me," you hissed at him. You were taught how to use your words, not your hands though, so you didn't really know what exactly you were threatening him with.

A disgusting sarcastic chuckle came from him while his grip just tightened. You glared into his eyes with a hint of fear as he let his face get closer to you, "Look, I don't wanna do this another-"

"Hey, what's goin' here?" Never would you have ever thought to be thankful to hear that voice. Whipping your head to the left, you found a wondering Tommy Miller, glancing between you and the drunk guy. A sigh of relief tumbled from your lips. "You two are lookin' awfully close."

"Get back to ya own business, cowboy," the guy spat at the younger Miller brother, his eyes raking over his frame when he found the boots Tommy was wearing. "I'm just talkin' to the pretty lady 'ere."

"Well, but I know that pretty lady, so it kinda is my business, you know?" He simply answered him, daring to take a step closer. Tommy glanced at you, "You know him, Y/N?" He asked.

You shook your head with a gulp, to which he just nodded, but before he could even say something, the drunk, still holding onto you, beat him to it.

"She's lyin'! I just introduced myself!"

"You know, I believe her," Tommy stopped him, raising his hand to place it on top of his that was gripping your arm, "So how about you take your-"

"Get your fucking hands off me!" The other guy snapped at him, pulling his hand off you, reacting to Tommy's touch like it was fire.

The younger Miller could just laugh at the reaction. "What?" He chuckled, "So you can put your hands on a random woman but as soon as I do it it's uncomfortable? A bit ironic, don't you think?"

"What are ya tryin' to do here?" With a few steps, the guy was head to head with Tommy, making you take a quick jump back. "Ya think ya gotta prove you've got some big balls here?"

"Me?" Tommy pointed to himself with a chuckle, "Nah, I just wanted to know if I gotta play translator." His comment got a look of confusion from the man in return. "I didn't you understood the English language because I'm pretty sure she said she wasn't interested, but you just... ignored that?"

"Ya makin' fun of me?"

"Am I?" Tommy continued to nag at the guy, making you take a step forward, trying to reach for him.

"Tommy, don't-" only to get pushed back by the dirty-blonde man.

"Get the fuck away!" He shoved you, making you stumble backwards, hitting the back of another guy, to whom you quickly excused yourself.

The younger brother looked at you in concern, but as soon as he saw you safe on your feet, his attention was back on the drunk in front of him.

He sighed, "Look," he motioned towards you. "Now I have to hit you. Because you just hit her."

"I didn't hit her," the guy scoffed, "I barely even pushed her."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you did that," with a strong force, Tommy pushed into the guy's chest. "Maybe even a little harder, like this," and repeated it with some added strength.

In clear annoyance, the drunk man shoved Tommy's hands off of him, only giving it another second before he let his fist swing. The Miller brother was quick to react, moving out of the way before landing the first official punch to the guy's side. The blonde groaned at the impact, only letting it affect him for a split moment before pushing Tommy further away. It gave him the time and space to land his own first hit to Tommy's face, making you gasp out loud. 

The entire's bar attention was now on the two fighting men, creating some space for them as they stumbled across the floor. You could only hear a few mumbles around you as your eyes were fixed on the fight in front of you. You tried to look for Maria but a crowd had formed right in front of a bar with mostly men, taller than you, hiding the counter area.

One punch made Tommy land on his ass as the other guy whipped his hand over his lips, you guessed there was some blood. You took the opportunity, to get down on the floor, your hands on the Miller's arm.

"Come on, stop this, don't waste-"

But before you could finish it, somebody shoved your body away from Tommy, making your back hit the wooden pole right behind you. You groaned out loud, closing your eyes for a second.

"Y/N!" You heard Maria's voice as she suddenly appeared, standing in front of the crowd with a glass bottle in her hand. In the next moment, she held the bottle up, swinging it to let it hit the back of the drunk guy's head before he could land another punch to Tommy's face as he straddled him. The man fell to the side, right by your feed, making you flinch away.

"Are you okay?!" Maria was right by your side, crouching down as she helped you up.

You nodded, "Yeah, yeah," you had only hit your back, which would definitely leave a mark, but not much else. Your worry lay on the guy who hadn't gotten up yet. No, not the clearly drunk one.

"Tommy," you rushed over, watching him as he groaned, blood rushing down from his nose. You couldn't even tell if there was blood coming from his mouth as well.

He huffed out, "Ah, fuck," trying to steady himself with his hands on the floor as he pushed himself up.

"Jesus Christ," Maria whispered out loud. The hushed voices around you got louder, making her raise her voice, "Everybody either get back to their table or out of here! There's nothing to see here!" After the first guy went after her demand, the rest followed.

"Tommy," you sighed, "I think we should get you to a hospital."

"Are you okay?" He suddenly asked you. You nodded quickly,

"I am. But you don't look good."

"N-No... no hospital," he told you trying to stand up more, making you stumble up as well as you tried to hold onto him even though he was putting half of his weight on you already.

"You have to, Tommy. Your nose is probably broken."

"If only the nose," Maria commented, suddenly having an ice pack and some paper tissues in her hold. "You wanna take my car? Get him to the hospital... I'll see what I can do about... this one," she nodded towards the guy on the floor that was slowly coming back to consciousness. "Probably have to call the police."

"Did that already!" Out of nowhere, Steven suddenly shouted out from behind the bar, making your best friend roll her eyes.

"Where the fuck were you before?!"

"I can't let... I...," Tommy groaned, not finishing his sentence as his mouth seemed to hurt.

"Take my car," Maria quickly told you, handing you the ice pack, tissues and the keys from her bag pocket, "And call me once you're there. I'll handle this here." She also got your bag for you.

You smiled at her, "Thank you," to which she nodded, giving you a soft touch on the back before you tried to move Tommy towards. He seemed to be okay walking, but his face was clearly in pain as he held his head down. The walk towards Maria's car was quiet, only his groans and moans filled the air between the two of you.

In the car, you put on the radio, trying to let the silence not become awkward.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked you again.

You nodded, "You asked me that already. I'm okay. Only hit my back."

"Fucking idiot...," he mumbled, mostly to himself probably, but you shook your head.

"You too," you told him, "Why would you start a fight like that? I thought those days were over."

"I ain't lettin' a man talk like that to a woman, no matter what. And I know you, so I'm definitely not walkin' past that," he defended himself, almost raising his voice, but the situation told him not to.

The rest of the ride, the two of you listened to whatever was coming from the radio.

-

At the hospital, the two of you were told to wait in the waiting room as his injuries were not severe enough for him to be put in the emergency room. If it wasn't as late as it was, you would've started something with the personnel, but you already had enough of that for one night. They did offer you a new ice pack though and some more tissues.

You took a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to Tommy, trying to find a bearable position. "Should I call Joel?" You asked him, knowing how close the two seemed to be.

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, "Fuck..." He thought for a second before continuing, "No... let's not do that. Unless you really wanna see him." One quick glance to the side, you found him smirking at you, giving you a quick wink. Even with all the blood on his face, this man was still able to joke around...

"You...," you shook your head in disbelief, "You're in the hospital. This is about you. I think he should know about his little brother being in the hospital," you snapped at him, but he only continued to smile.

"But you want to see him again, right?"

"Tommy-"

"I heard you in the diner." 

Your head snapped to glance at him. The annoying grin was still plastered on his face.

"What?"

He chuckled. "I left my hat in the booth. When I came back to get it I saw you dancing around the kitchen singing that he'll see you next week."

With a pout on your lips, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head to look away. You knew there was no blame on him for this situation and all the blame was to be put on you, but you couldn't help but feel sulky towards him.

You scoffed, "It's not nice to listen to other people's conversations."

"But now I can help you," he nudged your side, hissing softly as he moved. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was in serious pain and if you needed to get a nurse. He seemed fine as the smirk returned.

"Get your nose fixed first, then we'll talk."

With another groan, he sat forward, suddenly reaching into the back pocket of his jeans before falling back into the seat with a groan. He handed you his phone.

"Call him."

"Tommy, you didn't want him here. I'm not-"

"He'll be pissed at me, yes. But y'all can talk while I'm in there," you glanced at you, "Get to know each other a little better," wiggling with his eyebrows. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, your lips curling up against your will. He nudged the Nokia closer to you, giving you no other possibility but to take it.

"I'll be right back," you mumbled, getting a giggle out of him.

"Start the call with 'hey babe'!" He shouted after you, putting on a fake high-pitched voice to mock you. A harsh 'ssh' from one of the nurses made him sink back into the chair and you turned around and threw him a quick middle finger before disappearing further into the corridor.

You pressed the buttons to get to his contact list, not finding anyone under J that wasn't a girl's name, so you decided to just look through the entire thing, starting with A, until you finally reached B.

Barbara, Beatrice, Billy, Boobs-

He had a contact for 'Boobs'? You shook your head.

Brother Old.

This could either be someone else, an old number of Joel or, as you had hoped, Joel's current number. You pressed to call it, putting the phone up to your ear. After four rings, somebody on the other side picked up.

"What?" An annoyed groan erupted through the speaker. The familiar roughness to his voice was unlike any other's.

"Hey Joel, it's Y/N," you answered him. Some shuffling around seemed to happen in the background before his voice rang through your ear again.

"Y/N? What's going on? What happened?" He hastily wondered.

You took a second of silence to form a good sentence, just thinking about what he was currently doing or even just looking like. It was in the middle of the night, and just taken from his voice, you'd say you had interrupted his sleep. Did he sleep in a pyjama set? No, he was a dad. A true dad wouldn't sleep in much else but some shirt and boxers. Or maybe he's not wearing anything at all to sleep. You were drifting off.

"Ehm... So... Sorry for calling so late-"

"It's okay, don't worry," he quickly assured you with a heavy breath.

Out of habit, you bit down on your lip before continuing. "I'm calling from the hospital. Tommy got into a fight."

"God damnit..." Joel cursed under his breath. There were more incoherent sounds in the background as he spoke. "Which hospital?"

"St. David's."

"Alright, I'm on my way," he told you.

You nodded even though he wouldn't be able to see it, "Okay, we're in the waiting room right at the reception."

"Good, thank you."

"You're welcome, bye."

With a sigh, he put the phone down, ending the call and making your way back into the waiting room.

Tommy lifted his head at the sound of your footsteps getting closer to him.

He grinned at you. "And?"

You shook your head, handing him his phone back. "He wasn't thrilled."

"Ah," he brushed off your answer, "I bet your face will make him happy."

"Joel- Tommy, I mean-"

"I'm already getting confused with him? Wow, I'm honoured," he nudged you as soon as you sat down, the smirk still evident on his face.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, not even trying to hide your amusement. "It's late."

"But you do like him."

"I barely know him," you defended yourself.

"But you find him attractive," he continued to nag further.

You nodded. There was no reason to hide it from him if he had already caught your burst of excitement back at the diner. "But I think half the female population of Austin would too."

"But half of the female population of Austin isn't you."

His comment made you turn your head in interest.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" You squinted your eyes at him.

Tommy smiled. "I think I know my brother well enough to notice when he finds someone attractive."

You laughed at his answer. "Wow, you're just gonna out him like that?"

"Somebody's gotta do it," he shrugged, "What else he got a younger brother for." You shook your head in amusement.

You may not be the closest to Tommy, but this was the most time you had ever spent with just him. Plus, he had just admitted to noticing his brother's attraction towards you. That brought a thought to your head.

"Can I ask you something?" It probably wasn't the ideal situation, but oh well, if you already had him sitting right next to you, confined to a chair, why not. Shooting your shots.

"Sure."

"Is there... you know... I mean... with Sarah, I was thinking about like... her mom?"

He shook his head, "Don't worry 'bout that," he let you know, turning to meet your eyes. "It's not my story to tell, but... she's not in the picture."

You almost felt stupid. You had only seen this man a total of three times, yet he had managed to enarmour you and let you think that you suddenly had the right to know everything about his personal life.

"Why?" He asked with the smirk back plastered on his face, "You wanna ask him on a date?" The question took you by surprise, making you open your mouth, ready to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Your lips quivered as you tried to come up with an answer, but Tommy just laughed at your surprised reaction. The rose blush to your cheeks gave you away.

"You should," he told you, "It's been like... God, I don't even know, like... two or three years. Christ, maybe even four."

"Since his last relationship?" You wanted to be careful with your questions, but there was no way when Tommy played open book to you.

He shook his head, glancing at you. "Since his last date."

"Oh..."

So Jimmy was right.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded to himself, "You'd be surprised how many women get scarred off by the whole dad thing." Your lack of answer made him look over again. "But not you."

"Hm?"

"You ask about Sarah. He likes that."

"Well... she's his daughter, so... kinda obvious to ask about her," you were taken aback by the disinterest of the other women he had mentioned.

He shrugged, "Yeah, but like I said... not many care 'bout that."

A few moments of silence followed. Neither one of you seemed to have any will to continue your conversation. You didn't want to keep nagging further and you were pretty sure Tommy had started to doze off in his seat. It gave you some time to think, but a sudden jolt from the man next to you brought you back. He was about to sit up straighter when his eyes caught something behind you making you flinch and duck into the chair again, groaning at the impact.

"What?" You wondered, turning around to only find two police officers in the hallway, talking to a nurse. With a frown, you turned back to the Miller brother. "What?"

"They can't see me like this."

His reaction alarmed you immediately. "Why not?"

He seemed to think about his next answer before spilling out, "I know those guys. And they don't like me. If they see me like this, I'm fucked."

"What?"

"I just got a new job, I can't get another mark in my record."

Your eyes widened, "Your criminal record?" To which he just nodded. "Tommy!" You shouted-whispered at him, making him shush you. "How many fights did you get in."

"A few, okay? Just," he put his finger up to his lips, signing for you to keep quiet. You dropped back against the backrest of the chair with a sigh, shaking your head as you ran both hands over your face, mumbling to yourself.

From the side, you tried to watch the two officers as they passed you, hearing a relieved chunk of air leaving Tommy as he sat up again. You couldn't believe it. You knew he wasn't an angel and you remembered his troubled time as a teenager. What you didn't know was how that time had continued to chase him into adulthood.

Noticing his still slightly on edge stance, you decided to change the subject, hoping to give him some kind of distraction. And it just so happened that you had an actual topic of interest for you personally.

"You think I should ask him out?" A gulp followed your question, unsure if dropping that would reveal itself to be a mistake or not.

"On a date?" Tommy's voice was steady again as he looked at you, his lips curled into a soft smile. You nodded, making him chuckle. "Give him some time and he'll ask you himself."

"You think?"

He nodded but continued. "I mean, you can ask him. I... I don't know how he'd react, to be honest, but he wouldn't leave you hangin'. He's just... he's a traditional southern-"

"Gentleman," you said in union, chuckling together.

"I mean," Tommy started, "You know, if a woman offered herself to me, I would never decline-" You stopped him with a soft shove to his arm, making sure not to be too harsh since you didn't know how severe his injuries were. "But," he pushed your hand away from him, "Joel's a bit more old-fashioned in that way."

"I see," you nodded understandingly. Hearing this in connection to any other man would've probably made a chill run down your spine and the sick feeling of pure disgust bubble in your stomach, but for some reason, it didn't when it came to Joel. Tommy spoke so softly about him being s traditional gentleman, he made it sound good and proper. Not conservative and old. 

A nurse's voice, calling out for Tommy made you look up as he tried to get out of his chair. You offered to help him, but he brushed it off, telling you to 'wait here for Joel' with a wink before following the nurse down the hall.

-

Only a few minutes later, heavy footsteps stomped through the corridor, coming to a stop at the reception. Before the older Miller brother could even ask for information on Tommy, his eyes found you. Curled up on a chair, your eyes closed and your shoulders lifting and dropping in an even beat. With the time now being well over midnight, you had given into your body's pleas for sleep and found some form of comfort in the waiting room chair.

He tried to be as smooth as possible, getting into the chair right next to you, previously occupied by his brother, but even at the slightest sound, you jerked up, lifting your head to find him.

"Hey, sorry for wakin' you," Joel excused himself, brushing his hands over the top of his jeans. He had thrown them on even though they should probably already be in the wash and the shirt was wrinkled as he had fallen asleep in it. His unruly hair, messy and curly, showed the sleep you had woken him up from. But even in this state, which most would describe as dishevelled, he still managed to look good. He looked comfortable. Warm.

You shook your head with a tired smile, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped you. "It's okay."

"How long have been you here?"

"Ehm...," you tried to look around for the clock on the wall. 12:05. "Not too long, like 40 minutes or something."

He nodded, letting a sigh fall from his lips. "What happened?"

You rubbed your eyes, forgetting about the makeup you had put on a few hours before, but it probably was already smudged either way. Unsure if the story Tommy would tell would hold any truth or if he'd make up something, you decided to tell it in whole.

"There was a guy," you started, continuing to explain the entire situation to Joel, meeting his eyes a few times during the story, watching him go from annoyed, to concerned, to slightly irritated. He let you finish before asking further questions.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Just hit my back."

Joel frowned, "How?"

"I tried to get to Tommy after he got pushed to the floor, but that idiot threw me against a pole," you let him know, the scowl on his face only deepening. His wrinkles weren't just a sign of age. This man had been frowning too much in his life. Yet, it somehow suited him.

"You don't wanna get that checked? You sure you're okay?" He asked you further, but you just continued to nod.

"I drove here. I'm fine," you shrugged it off. Joel just sighed again, looking around the room before he continued.

"Anyone called the cops?"

"Probably," you answered him honestly. You didn't know for sure, but there was a high chance that you just got out quick enough. His deep breath in and out made you remember the reaction the two officers brought out of Tommy. "But I don't know. Maria said she'd handle it. My friend at the bar," you quickly added.

Joel glanced at you, his elbows digging into his thighs. "That's nice of her. Thank you." But you just nodded again.

Carefully, you decided to get closer. "Tommy mentioned something about a new job..."

"Yeah," the older brother sat himself up straight, letting himself fall back into the chair, "I got him a job at the company I work at. Just carpenter stuff, but... if they find out he was involved in a bar fight," he shook his head, "I don't know. My boss already took him in just because I practically begged him to."

"I see," you answered him, just letting him know you had been listening.

"Thank you for staying here with him. And for bringing him. And thanks to your friend for handling the whole police-" Joel began to ramble, but you were quick to stop him, subconsciously just putting your hand on his upper arm.

"It's okay," you smiled up at him, getting a thankful nod and soft smile in return.

It was only then it hit you.

Not only did this man have the responsibility of raising a nine-year-old girl, but he also was taking care of a man in his mid-to-late twenties. Letting him live with him, making sure he had a job, and picking him up from a hospital after a bar fight. You could see the tiredness on his face, and it didn't only have to do with the fact that he had to get up in the middle of the night. It was years old tiredness. You know it from your father. Carrying the world on his shoulders, dragging him, not letting him live to his full potential. The constant instinct to care and worry following his every step.

On one side, you couldn't help but find it attractive, his primal instict of protection, but on the other, you felt deeply sorry for him, you realised. If he hadn't been a met-three-times 'stranger' you would've offered him a hug. He looked like he could need one.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3 @skysmiller @lizlil

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask @sidelnes

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 5

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Clockwork!” called the head Observant, its eye blazing.  “Clockwork!”  The sound bounced off the walls of the great observatory, echoing over and over.

“You called?”

The Observant whirled. “What took you so long?”

“Shockingly enough, I have other duties.  Duties that you assigned me, in fact.”

“You,” said the Observant, its shoulders making a rigid line, “are the Master of Time.  You should get here immediately.”

“You have also forbidden me from using my powers in such a recursive and overlapping manner.  Much less for a personal matter.  I fail to see what difference fifty-two seconds makes in any case.”

The Observant pulled itself back from its far forward lean, visibly collecting itself.  “Clockwork.  You will return Phantom to the house we prepared for him.”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow and mockingly shifted from his typical form to a much younger one.  “That is against the rules you have given me.”

“The rules require that each candidate be given a fair chance!  The human girl had him for a week, and we only had him for a single day.  We must be given an equal amount of time.”

“That is not one of the requirements you listed at the inception of this trial,” said Clockwork, gleefully.  “You rather insisted on the opposite case being true, citing the sanctity of the child’s choice in cases like these.”

“He did not spend enough time with us to choose!”

“Interesting choice of phrase, considering that you, personally, did not interact with him at all, and that you were using a loophole to switch out which of your… comrades were in the residence at the time.”  Said comrades, the full council of Observants, who were in attendance, began muttering to one another.

“That is perfectly legal.  The laws say only that only those named in the application can be present in the residence, it does not limit it to only one of those named.”

“And so you named all of yourselves Oculus and Orbis, at least temporarily.  Yes, yes, very clever.  Lesser minds are in awe of your brilliance.”

“You will return him.”

Clockwork smiled.  “No.”

“You will do as I command you!”

“I will not.  And I would not, even if I had not been previously commanded to adhere to the rules of this trial without bias or error.  You may command me when it comes to matters of paradox and the continuation of the timeline, fields that you interpret very broadly indeed, but neither of those pertain to the situation at hand.  So.  No.  I will not do as you command.  Furthermore, I am only here as, how should I put this, a courtesy.  I will not be returning here for the duration of the trial.”

“Now, listen here, you–”

“Goodbye, Oculus.  I do with you and Orbis all the luck you deserve.”

Clockwork promptly disappeared.  

The chief Observant snarled as much as a being that consisted of a stick-thin body and a very large eyeball could.  “Find Phantom!  If we cannot have him by his choice, we will have him by force!”But before the Observants could organize themselves, a mist rose up from the floor of their great chamber, coalescing into a woman in blue silk.  “Did someone say wish?”

[includedisco]

Title: From Guns to Roses

Characters: Fadel, Style, Bison, Kant

Pairing: FadelStyle, KantBison

Fandom: The Heart Killers

Tags: First Date, Fluff, Flirting, Alternate Universe- Different Meeting, Eventual romance, Match-maker KantBison

warnings: none

Word Count: 1,610

When Fadel’s brother, Bison, strong-arms him into dating, the former hit man reluctantly agrees. Enter Style, a whirlwind of chaos and charm. Will Fadel’s tough exterior withstand Style’s infectious energy, or will his date prove to be a fatal attraction?

-

UPDATE*: This was a one shot but due to popular demand among my readers for me to expand this story and show KantBison playing Cupid, FadelStyle's first date from Style's POV and the aftermath of the date; I decided to turn this into a four-part story.

The link for chapter 2 is at the end of this one.

The thing is, Fadel showed up for this date to silence his brother Bison's constant nagging about how he needs to put himself out there more, start socializing, and begin dating. Since walking away from their lives as hitmen, Bison has found himself in a seemingly happy romance with a tattoo artist named Kant.

Love and romance are not exactly what Fadel is seeking at the moment, as his tolerance for such matters is low. Based on his experiences, love requires a high level of commitment, patience, time, emotional investment, and effort—all of which sound like stress to Fadel. He would much rather invest those resources into his passion as the owner and chef of a burger restaurant.

Bison has different ideas for Fadel and hasn’t stopped nagging him for the past few weeks. As it turns out, Bison’s boyfriend has a best friend named Style. Style is apparently a single, attractive mechanic whom both Bison and Kant believe is perfect for Fadel.

“We told Style about you, and he wants to meet you,” Bison said to Fadel two days ago.

“So?” Fadel sidestepped Bison to go and stand by the counter and finish marinating his chicken. Recently, Fadel proudly added some fried chicken recipes to his menu.

“So, go on a date with him. Just one.”

“No.”

“Oh, Fadel. Must you always be so stubborn?” Bison scowled reprovingly

“I’m not being stubborn. I’m just not interested.”

“How would you know that you’re not interested? You haven’t even met Style.”

Fadel didn’t reply. Bison walked up to him and continued talking, “Just one date. If it doesn’t work out, I won’t bug you about this anymore.”

Fadel gave his brother a doubtful look, “We both know you’re lying.”

Bison blinked owlishly, then sighed and rolled his eyes, “Okay, whatever. Just give Style a chance. Please?”

“Why is this so important to you?”

“Look, I know I wanted to be in love when I met Kant, but being in love is nice. You might not want it now, but you never know how you’ll feel about it when it comes your way. We are no longer hitmen, and there is less to be skeptical about. Give yourself a chance to live a normal life.”

“Alright!” Fadel finally and begrudgingly conceded with a dramatic display of reluctance, mostly because he is tired of listening to his brother go on and on about the same thing. Maybe if Fadel went out on this date with Style and it failed, he would have an excuse to stay away from the dating scene thereafter.

That’s how Fadel finds himself at this little hole-in-the-wall bar and restaurant, sitting across from Style. Apart from how wary Fadel still is about this date, he admits to himself that he is blown away by how attractive Style is. The moment he walked in, his allure jumps out at Fadel immediately. Tall—about Fadel’s own height—an impossibly pretty face for a guy, and a waist entirely too sexy and slender to be real. It seriously has Fadel wondering about Style’s workout routine.

Also, Style shows up here wearing a fucking crop top. That’s how Fadel gets quite the perfect view of Style’s waistline. Style’s full outfit is a bit…much for Fadel’s tastes—because he has never quite seen someone in that combination of clothes—but at least it doesn’t take away from Style’s allure. It gives Style a playful and youthful vibe, which isn’t altogether bad.

“You’re much hotter in real life than in the pictures I saw,” Style is saying to Fadel

Oh, and Style is a talker. The guy doesn’t seem to have a filter at all. Since he got here, he hasn’t closed his mouth for more than three seconds, maybe. What he is on about, only heaven knows. Fadel has been too busy sipping on his beer and staring at Style’s pretty lips the entire time.

“Do you always wear black clothes? You had on black clothes in the pictures I saw and you’re black tonight,” Style continues talking. Before Fadel can answer, he goes on, “The look gives you a mysterious vibe. It also goes with your tan skin.”

Fadel also thinks Style has a really nice smile and set of teeth. He can’t stop thinking about how pretty Style is.

Silence. Style lifts an eyebrow at Fadel as if expectantly, and Fadel answers by lifting his as well in an asking manner.

“So, is black your thing?” Style asks as if he is deliberating why Fadel hasn’t answered the question.

Fadel stares at Style, wondering if he should tell Style that he is talking too fast and too much for him to get a word in. For some reason, Fadel doesn’t feel like being that mean about it, so he just answers the question. “I’m more inclined towards darker colors.”

“I’m the opposite. If I could wear all colors and prints at once, I would.”

“I can tell.”

“The body should be a canvas.”

“No one really says that.”

“I say it.”

“Do you also always wear sunglasses indoors at night?”

“There’s no reason not to.”

“Is it sensible?”

“Fuck sense. Life is an adventure. Overthinking things is a thief of joy.”

Fadel wonders if Style thinks at all. Although, the theories that Style appears to live by aren’t so bad. Fadel is on the opposite of that, and he admits that while he finds peace in being in control, it can be burdensome and boring at times.

Since Style claims to be on the wild side of life, Fadel has to test one thing, “I used to be a hitman.” He randomly relays

Silence.

Style’s jaw drops, and he lowers his glasses in obvious shock. “Are you kidding?”

Fadel shakes his head. “So you…killed people—”

Already sensing where Style’s question is going, Fadel cuts in to elaborate, “For money, yes.”

Somewhere deep down, Fadel is telling this to Style just to be mean and hopefully scare him off. Style is undoubtedly very attractive physically, and his personality, riotous as it seems, doesn’t seem that unbearable, and is even mildly amusing, actually. But Fadel is still uncertain about dating seriously again.

Style appears to process that information for a moment, and then his face transforms completely as he laughs lightly and says, “Cool.”

It is Fadel’s turn to be shocked, “What do you mean cool?”

Style shrugs a shoulder, “What do you want me to say?” He looks genuinely clueless, like he doesn’t understand Fadel’s qualm.

“Isn’t that a red flag for you?”

“Do you spit on the street?”

Fadel has a momentary confusion from the quick change of subject but adjusts, “That’s disgusting.”

“Do you cut in line when you go to places where you have to queue up?”

“No. That’s rude.”

“Do you gamble?”

“No.”

“Are you impolite to elders?”

“I try to avoid drawing negative attention to myself.”

“Then you’re a catch,” Style says with such finality as though there is nothing else to discuss.

Fadel is still surprised. “You’re okay with the fact that I’ve killed people as long as I don’t spit on the ground in public?”

“It’s a nasty habit, that.”

Fadel stares intently at Style, realizing he has never encountered anyone like him. Someone with such logic, yet who accepts Fadel's biggest flaw without hesitation. He ponders that maybe he still doesn’t want to date just anyone, but he wants to date Style. He wants to know more about Style—who he is, and why he is the way he is. He longs to see how bold and creative Style’s fashion sense can get. He yearns to know what Style’s captivating lips would feel like against his own. Fadel even desires the experience of holding onto Style’s stunningly beautiful waistline.

So, “How do you feel about heavy metal music?” Fadel asks with the intention of inviting Style on a second date.

“I fucking hate it, but we can go to that.”

“You just said that you hate it.”

“You asked the question, so you must like heavy metal. It’s the first thing you shared about yourself tonight without the intent to run me off; I’m hoping that while we’re out doing something you enjoy, you’ll be more forthcoming about yourself.”

So Style is logical and smart, and he can also read the room, Fadel thinks. Heaven help him, but he is impressed. He most definitely needs to explore this further. “How do you feel about live music then?”

“What happened to running me off?” Style challenges with a raised eyebrow. “What changed your mind? Is it my body? Have you decided you want to sleep with me at least once? You can be honest. I know I’m sexy.”

Fadel thinks about that for a moment. Style is certainly right, but only in part. “You seem outrageous, and shallow but you’re actually complex. I’m curious about you. Also, you’re a mechanic.” Fadel stops for a short moment then adds, “That’s hot.”

Style flushes, actually ducking his head and all. Fadel is surprised that Style can be bashful. The sight is rather adorable.

“I like live music.” Style finally answers Fadel’s question

“Then let’s go to that after we leave this place.”

“I thought I’d finally get to kiss you under the moonlight and run my hands across the wide expanse of your chest, but live music is fine too.”

Fadel smiles for the first time tonight. “Don’t despair. We’ll have plenty of time after the live music show,” Heaven knows, before the night ends, he must taste Style's lips, bury his face in Style's long, creamy neck, and kiss it while embracing his alluringly slim waist.

-End of Chapter 1-

Chapter 2

Thank you for reading ❤️

If you liked this story, please visit my Ao3 for more.

[mtkay13]

The peach blossoms are blooming

Lol @the fancy title, haha. Yesterday I promised "two hoboxu's today!" but I'm an inconsistant liar so the second is today and not yesterday, HAH.

Anyway, another painting of my very beloved; more about this piece below!

So aside of the obvious joke, what I really wanted to work on and represent on this picture is, as the title makes it clearer, grief, and what it looks like for ZZS.

The idea came from imagining ZZS setting off, happy with his disguise, and passing by a peach tree orchards and seeing all the peach blossoms blooming, and what it would entail.

...So let's talk about what TYK is about again, shall we?

(usual caveat: those are my thoughts and interpretations etc etc)

Little is known of the four years that separate the end of QY and the beginning of TYK. Even less is obviously stated when it comes to the reasons why ZZS has put in the nails, besides the obvious "requirement to leave Tian Chuang" part.

So, trying to leave all headcanons and other suppositions aside, and looking at what the text gives us, one of the main "storylines" of ZZS' personal journey across both books seems to be: dealing with the loss of LJX, first of their relationship, and later, of LJX entirely.

>I'm going to boldly announce that (I think) TYK is in great parts a story about getting over grief, or rather, properly living with grief.

Needless to say that it is clear that ZZS has a bunch of issues he's dealing with, including "the void after meeting your goals; what's next?" and some form of burnout from completely over-exerting himself and going way beyond what he thought he could sustain mentally; but also. Four years after he lost LJX, ZZS is still deeply grieving. Still seeing him in crowds, still thinking about him frequently, still hallucinating him, dreaming of him. He couldn't resist taking in ZCL because ZCL reminded him of LJX. Nearly every single thought of his own past ends up rooting back to LJX.

The first time he mentions LJX's name out loud in TYK, chapter 41, is the first time he mentions it at all in four years, and to quote the text:

Speaking out his name hadn't been that big of a deal, in the end; it had only felt like something had been pulled out of his chest—like he was now missing a piece, like it left behind an empty void.

(TYK ch41, TL by me)

The next scene is when it hits ZZS that he's going to die; from that moment on, ZZS starts feeling stupid, ZZS slowly starts wanting to find a solution, influenced by WKX... and the story culminates with ZZS making the opposite decision that he made in QY: instead of risking never seeing WKX alive again, and against WKX's decision, he goes to meet him, unlike LJX whom he was too scared to go meet, and lost forever without even saying goodbye.

>I think that ZZS essentially took the nails because he couldn't manage to live with that grief, basically. (I know, I KNOW there are other reasons, but for the sake of analyzing this theme, I find interesting to look at it from this angle; how the narrative shifts towards ZZS putting in the efforts to stay alive at the exact same times he starts letting go of LJX literally.) And then, as he learns, as he rediscovers life differently, the story becomes about getting free from the nails, about actially living with that grief rather than dying because of it.

*coughs* so, hum, yes. This is what I wanted to represent. What grief looks like, at this stage of melancholic, happy, self-deprecating acceptance of freedom through death—freedom of the burden of grief and guilt. It's a bittersweet feeling, but the way I see it, he smiles out of what he thinks is inner peace, resignation, and once again, self-deprecation.

I would go even deeper, in that ZZS' relationship to death with regards to LJX is quite complex and difficult, given how he was told by LJX himself that he ought to die for what he's done (or misunderstood LJX saying so), but that's a whole other can of worms and I don't have the brain juice to go there again (since it wouldn't even be the first time iirc). SO YEAH, again, grief, but ZZS style: turned into a bit of a melancholic, silly, but gentle joke, and with a smile on the face. On brand with TYK as well.

Cheers!

[stillness-in-green]

Hi, are you still working on the AFO Retcon Essay? You mentioned a few times you are not sure if Horikoshi retconned AFO's original plan or if he always intended for AFO to take over Tomura, but made AFO act somewhat contradictory from the start regardless. Did this ever make you feel like there are too many possibilities in regards to Horikoshi's original intentions to take into account and could therefore make it harder to write the essay?

Hi there, and thanks for your interest! I did actually talk about this a good while back, towards the beginning of the year; you can find that post here. It says pretty much exactly what you did and goes a bit further--that I'm so distrustful of Horikoshi as a writer that I have no idea anymore what might have been retconned and what was his intention from the start, and further, that even if something was his intention from the start, I don't trust him to have laid the groundwork for those intentions with honesty or good faith.

Instead of the AFO Retcon Essay, what I've been poking at instead is some sort of massive retrospective of all the problems with BNHA's endgame. That's going to require a reread on my part, and some decisions about formatting--namely, do I want to do the reread privately, on my end, and then write the Mega Chonky Essay and post it when I'm finished, or do I do it publically, read-along liveblog style, documenting the problems as I go?

At the moment, I'm leaning towards the second. I have some tentative ideas about keeping a running list of (to use a witticism from the Twitter fen) Themes & Such, ideas and ideology the series sets out and how well it lives up to those ideas--or how it fails to. I'd also like to keep track of things like character arcs and foreshadowing, documenting things with an eye to where those arcs go, what the foreshadowing amounts to, whether the series keeps its implicit promises, and so on. I suspect it would wind up looking something like a cross between the heteromorphobia essay and my chapter thoughts posts.

On the other hand, a format that deals with one group of problems at a time could feel more focused, discussing all the evidence at once of any particular topic rather than having to keep many (many) plates spinning across a retrospective of the entire series. I also already have the broad outline for that, since it was my plan last time I was seriously poking at the idea. It would probably still end up being posted in multiple parts; the parts would just cover different groups of characters or aspects of the series per installment, rather than e.g. each installment covering an arc and everything in it.

I suppose there's nothing stopping me from doing first the former and then the latter? I'm planning to reread the whole series anyway, after all.

In any case, I like that kind of installment-based format not least because I'm also in the early stages of getting a Patreon set up aimed at supporting my meatier chunks of fandom writing and potentially giving people some ability to point me at this or that topic. A multi-part analysis of BNHA--something in a similar style as my documentations of heteromorphobia, the problems with the anime's adaptation of My Villain Academia, or even, to reach back to an older fandom, my episode-by-episode write-ups on Human Debris in Gundam IBO!--strikes me as a good way to get that off the ground.

I've got one or two things to finish getting off my plate before then, and I'd want to wait until the last volume of BNHA officially comes out (12/4) just in case of any thirteenth-hour surprises, but keep an eye out! I'm not inclined to paywall my writing, but maybe an early access sort of model? I'm also going to want to find a blogging site that's more aimed at hosting long-form writing than Tumblr is. We'll see!

In the meantime, to give everyone an example of the kinds of things I'm looking at tracking through the story, one of the things that most vexes me about the ending is how it not only fails to resolve its contradictory ideas of saving and heroism, it feels to even recognize those contradictions. Here's a chunk of my notes on that topic from the outline of The Mega Chonky Essay in its current form.

• Nana says saving isn’t just saving someone’s life, but also making sure they’re smiling in the end. But that means that saving their life is the prerequisite. If Eri died smiling, her smiling would not prevent everyone from recognizing her death as a tragedy.         • “Perfect Victory” is defined as both “winning” and “saving” flawlessly—that is, every fight is won, and no one is left unsaved. This is introduced first as an ideal for Deku and Bakugou to strive for, with both of them needing to work on different parts of the equation, and continues to be an aspect of Bakugou’s characterization, as it comes up again in Joint Training. But it doesn’t stay locked to them, as All Might says directly to the American pilots that they can’t be allowed to die because the kids are aiming for a Perfect Victory.         • A pivotal question for Toga and the larger series is, given that Heroes are supposed to save people, how do Heroes justify killing Villains? Do they not think of Villains as people?         With all three of these ideas in place, the challenge becomes how to navigate the endgame to a place where all three concepts are honored/resolved. The ending must demonstrate that Heroes do see Villains as people while also being able to achieve their desired Perfect Victory—they must win against the Villains while also saving them, where “saving” means that the Villains’ lives are saved and they’re smiling in the end.         Or must they? After the first war, the series introduces another concept of how to save people, albeit one that runs directly counter to Nana's definition of a saved person as someone both alive and smiling: Gran Torino says that killing someone can be a way of saving them. He and Nana can’t both be right, so to confront and resolve that discrepancy, the story will have to acknowledge one of them as wrong. (Spoilers: It does not.)         In the end, Toga dies, and Deku kills Shigaraki, and if both of them die smiling, well, you sure as hell can’t say the same for e.g. Gigantomachia or All For One or Dabi or any of the thousands of unhappy Villains who wound up in prison (many of them likely bound for the gallows!), alive but decidedly not smiling. Heck, All Might, in trying to console Deku, moves the goalposts even more by suggesting that all Deku needed to do to get the credit on “saving” Shigaraki was make sure his inner child wasn’t crying anymore. Not only does he not have to live, he doesn’t even have to be smiling! An absence of obvious grief is enough!         Thus, you wind up in this place where you have an unsolvable problem: somewhere along the line, either someone failed or someone was wrong, and the story, in being unwilling to confront that disharmony, winds up undermining other established themes and goals. Did the kids “lose” because they failed to meet the criteria for the Perfect Victory? Was the definition of “saving” wrong? Was Gran Torino wrong or was Nana? Was the definition of Perfect Victory wrong? Was Toga correct in her fear that Heroes don’t see Villains as people?         No matter what the answer is, it runs afoul of some previously established Theme in the story. Even if the idea is that the ending is downbeat and bittersweet because the kids failed (and the story is using All Might’s goalpost-moving to resolve the dissonant definitions of “saving” in Gran Torino’s favor), that still means yet another theme is violated: that of BNHA being a story of how Deku+his classmates become “the greatest Heroes.” After all, the story also defined “greatest Heroes” for us! The greatest Heroes are those who can achieve Perfect Victory.

Whatever form this essay winds up taking, these are the sorts of concepts I want to discuss in terms of how the series sets them up compared to how it winds up following them through.

Thanks for the ask!

[anemonelovesfiction]

Fated Mates 5

Ao’nung x Fem! Human reader

Warnings ⚠️: Smut, Fingering, P in V, upset Y/n.

As always English is stricken through and everything else is notmal? There is a new name in here, Vehlín (Veh-leen), its the only name of importance and it was hard to come up with 🥺

Please forgive me if the plot seems rushed, I’ve not been in the mood and kinda depressy and stressed to get this chapter out so I believe it to be crap compared to my other chapters. I did read through it to a certain point and just wanted to post it.

Eyewng is made up, just for the sake of the plot really (if y’all cared I wanted it pronounced like “Eyy-oong”)

Translation Station

Iknimaya: Na’Vi right of passage into adulthood

Sa’nok: Mother

Tewng: Loincloth

Yawne: beloved

Tawtute: Sky Person (used as “human”)

Ma’tìyawn: My love

Syulang: Flower

Ma’eveng: My child (an endearing term)

Um’ma: Mama

Word count: 6.7k

<<Previous | Next>>

I had believed to have been hiding my arousal pretty well over the last two days. But I felt the desperate itch to have my hands exploring my wife’s body, to have my cock inside her, my tongue on her, I wanted to caress her entire being and listen to the sweet melodious sounds she makes while I please her. But I had been busy in every way possible by helping the clan out in any way I could.

When I was younger I would typically train and follow my father around a bit to get a better hold on his duties in the instance that I’d have to take over. I’d eventually been added the role as a teacher to help the young with breathing exercises and Ilu training, as well as training those who wished to pass their iknimaya. But following my father around now was harsh, my time had been taken up from the moment my eyes opened to the moment we had communal dinner.

How my father did this every day without stopping, managing to be a father, husband, and lover to my mother was beyond me- how they had the time to have the three of us was also beyond me. We were currently sitting and fixing a couple of nets that had less holes than they were supposed to and making sure we could salvage what we could.

My ears flickered at the sudden sound of my fathers chuckle as he fixes then other half of the net that I currently held. This one was pretty big and typically required two Na’Vi to cast it, I’d been working on fixing the handle. I then look up to see what he had found worthy of his attention only to see him focusing on the net he held.

“Go to her,” He comments without looking up, I’m sure he understood that I was confused so he finally shifts his eyes toward mine. “You smell- different, go to her.” He repeats and I could feel myself flushing at his comment.

“But we still have to-“

“Don’t be stubborn boy,” He states and I stand up, running off toward where I knew my wife would be.

It didn’t take long for me to go toward the healing hut, knowing she’d be training under my mother and sister, but I did not expect to walk in and see her holding my baby brother in her hands, gently stroking his face as he cuddled up to her, his breathing even as he rested. I could only stare at her in awe with the chubby baby in her arms, she was sitting on the floor with a smile on her face and I could feel my cock stirring.

“It appears you are needed, Y/n.” My sister catches her attention but I’d blocked her out as I stared at my wife in awe, her eyes looking over toward my sister and settling on me, a shy smile consuming her features once she does.

“Are you hurt?” She asks and stands immediately, picking my brother up as she did, cradling his head over toward her neck, and he was still sleeping peacefully.

“No, I’m okay, I just wanted to see you-“ I stated awkwardly and felt the blush consuming my cheeks, my baby brother stirring in her arms, she gently bounces him and pats his back to get him calm and he settles on sucking his thumb.

“I can take him,” Tsireya says as she stands from where she had been grinding dried petals for our mother. “Go, I’ll see you back after lunch, okay?” She says while taking our brother into her hands.

“You sure your Sa’nok won’t get upset?” Y/n asks sweetly and I can hear the worry in her voice.

“No, you’ll be fine,” She reassures her and I grasp her hand, pulling on it gently as I walk toward the marui’s, feeling some relief from holding her hand in mine.

“What’s the rush?” She chuckles slightly after having jogged after me, I plant my feet on the walkway and hurry toward our marui, not paying attention to her and suddenly feeling her sink downward, our hands disconnecting. Her laughter ringing out, my ears flicker and I turn my face, seeing one of her legs had slipped through the material of the walkway.

“Oh great mother,” I mumbled in embarrassment to myself as I placed my hands under her arms and lifted her out, sitting her on the edge and examining her thigh.

“I’m okay,” Her giggle was evident, after hearing that I just picked her up and took her inside our marui, closing the curtain for privacy, settling her down.

“I see,” She states after being put down and reaches behind her back to tug on the string on her shirt, sliding it off her body, tugging on the string on her hip to untie her tewng, eyes going back to me as it falls, a growl escaping my mouth as she bites her lip.

“Come here,” I ordered her closer and watch her as she hesitantly takes her steps, strides very slow, too damn slow for my liking, stopping just a few feet away from me.

“Do you know how good you’d look as a sa’nok?” I ask her, wide eyes looking up at me, shaking her head, my hand leaning over to capture her chin and she freezes.

“I will make you a mother.” I claimed, smelling the slick coating the place I needed my mouth on the most.

“Oh fuck-“ She mutters.

Kissing her was the same as any other time, claiming her lips with my own and teasing my tongue in, making sure she was a panting moaning mess as my hands travelled through her body, laying her down with my body over hers. Her adorable sounds and sweetened smells reaching my nostrils as I shamelessly sniffed while kissing down her neck.

I’d taken my time with her, only kissing when I knew it would drive her crazy, trailing my fingers over her body teasingly, making sure every part of her had been on fire. Although I wanted to take my time tasting her, we were limited on that, and I had other ways to fulfill my desire in edging her.

I slid one finger into her sweet cunt and thrust it slowly, hearing her moan beautifully while smiling from above her, this woman is definitely driving me crazy. Her long legs spread for me willingly and I groan at the sight before me, greedily adding the second finger in.

I’m tempted to eat from the sweetest fruit before me and make her come right where she is, but I need her to wait. I’d decided on placing soft bites on her plush thighs and suckled the sensitive skin there, I could feel her thighs shaking slightly and stop all movement, hearing her high pitched whine and choose to smirk.

“I don’t want you to come yet.” I admit and she just bites her lip in acceptance, not bothering to protest, I thrust my fingers slowly feeling every inch of her, testing the waters and slowing down significantly just for her to slam her fists on the floor of our marui. I lick up the other inner thigh teasingly before lightly pressing my fangs down on her.

Taking my time with two fingers, filling her up and bringing her to the cusp, only to stop thrusting or removing my fingers completely when she is close, only for her frustrated groan to ring out every time. I’d added a third finger eventually, her sweet moans like the beautifully composed melodies playing just for my ears, my cock was terribly hard and leaking, but this was a prize I had to earn.

“I can feel you getting close again,” I muttered the observation to myself as her thighs had already been trembling, but it had gotten worse.

“Please let me come,” She mutters, sweat sticking onto her forehead and a couple of stray hairs across her cheeks as she held on to my other hand to ground herself.

“Mm, I don’t think so baby.” I answered while taking my fingers out, spreading them to see her slick webbing between my fingers, placing them into my mouth and enjoying her taste. My cock throbbing, it’d been doing that for a while, but I couldn’t take my hands off of her.

“Think you can hold on for a little longer?” I ask finally untying my tewng.

“N-no,” She whines.

“Yes you can, I know you can.” I grasp her hips lightly, looking at the markings I’d littered her inner thighs with, enjoying my teeth marks and slight bruising.

“Thank you great mother,” I stated as I slid into her tight wet heat, enjoying the way her cunt squeezed onto me and welcomed me in deeper.

She’d initially gasped when I’d gone in, I had too, I enjoyed digging myself deep inside her, just as our hips joined she lets out a long moan. I bite my own lip and stop myself from attempting to rut my hips in her, she felt glorious, so tight and wet, just for me.

“You feel divine yawne, I love how greedy your pussy gets,” I roll my hips as I say that and she moans louder.

“I want you to let everyone know who you belong to, dirty girl.” I manage to slide one hand up toward her breast, rolling the nipple between my fingers, feeling her squeeze harder on my cock.

“Please let me come,” She utters again and I whine at her squeezing me again, rutting my hips upward and she moans louder. I snake my arm behind her neck and lift her up to face me, kissing her mouth and muffling her sweet sounds while rutting my hips upward and further in her.

“You’ll be such a beautiful Sa’nok,” I grunt as I bring her hips down as I slam mine up. “Wanna see you round with my life inside of you,” I kissed her face.

“Come, ma’tìyawn.” I bite the skin between her neck and shoulder after my comment to feel her hips stutter, her pussy contracting, and a wet liquid sliding down my own thighs. It boosted my ego and made me prideful knowing I had made her squirt again, I recall her stating it was what happened when someone was being pleased very well, which means I have done my job. Her heavy breathing was the first thing I’d heard after my senses came back to me.

“Why does it glow different?” She asks while pointing between her legs and my ears flicker in embarrassment, but continuing to look at her sheepishly, ducking my head a bit.

“It glows brighter when we wish to have children-“ I admit and she blushes, starting to giggle herself.

“It was glowing at the spirit tree too,” She comments, lifting her head up to kiss me, using her still wobbly thighs to stand. It had been about two weeks since then but it was the best night of my life.

“I can’t wait to see you with child,” I smile at her, ignoring the sight of my come slipping down her thighs to prevent myself from taking her again.

“That won’t happen,” She stated absently before retrieving her shirt.

“What do you mean by that Yawne?” I asked as she struggles to tie the shirt on, I grasp her shoulders, forcing her to step closer, and turn her around to tie it off for her.

“Na’Vi and tawtute having a biological child is unheard of,” She explains, turning to look at me.

“It can if we are each others fated mate, which we are.” I stated, remembering Neteyam’s words to me when he first told me about this arrangement.

“Don’t tell me you truly believe that.” She stated as if she were getting angered.

“Maybe its because nobody has tried it yet.” I offered and she rolls her eyes.

“Hey, whats wrong?” I asked realizing sudden change in mood, she’s never really been the type of person to be upset at a topic.

“Nothing,” She tries walking back toward her tewng but I stop her, this was a serious discussions in my eyes, I didn’t want her angry at me.

“Talk to me, ma’tìyawn, why are you upset?” She turns to look at me again and her face falls into a sad one, fixing it just slightly to appear at ease, but I knew better.

“Why are you pushing this so hard? Why put something in front of me that I can’t have?” She asks, turning her face from me.

“What do you mean?” I ask her.

“Believe me, I want to become a sa’nok, I wish I could. But I knew I had to give that up the moment I chose you. I’d asked Norm about the compatibility between myself and Neteyam and he said it was a very unlikely.”

“But we are to have four children of our own,”

“Stop saying that!” She yells and its completely out of character for her to do so. “That’ll never happen, the sooner you come to terms with it the better.” She stated coldly, but even with her head turned away from mine, I can see the tears falling from her cheeks and onto the floor of our marui.

She doesn’t bother staying long after that before tying her tewng back on and angrily walking out, leaving me confused as to why she would believe a tawtute over believing in Eywa.

It hadn’t taken much for me to feel absolutely horrible for having upset Y/n over the conversation- if we could even call it that- we’d had about children. I didn’t have much time to think about whatever had occurred since I knew my father had been expecting me back at any point. But I couldn’t help feeling upset for having made my wife cry, I vowed to make her happy and feel as though I continue letting her down.

I knew exactly where my father had been and I knew he was expecting me back at some point but I had to do something real quick. I grabbed my own spear before diving in the water and going to find the one fish she had talked one time about, she mentioned that she wishes she knew what it was but only ate from it once.

__________

“Hey Y/n, how was-“ Tsireya starts greeting me but stops when she see’s the angered expression on my face, stopping herself from continuing her comment.

“I’m glad you’re back, child, I need your help with something,” Ronal is quick to ask as she see’s me, I turn to see her with a cross-body cloth sling resting on her shoulder, her baby inside it.

“Sure,” I accept and she seems happy.

“I need you to collect some eyewng for me, I would do it myself but my hands would damage the petals. I used to send Tsireya when she was younger but her hands have also become too big for the job.” Ronal explains and I nod.

“Where can I find them?” I ask, expecting myself to have to go alone, making sure to pay attention to her instructions.

“Tsireya will go with you, child, I’m not sending you alone.” She nods toward her daughter and Tsireya warmly smiles, nodding along to what her mother says, she stands and heads out of the healing hut, I go to follow her but get stopped my Ronal’s hand on my shoulder. I stop and turn to look back at her, a worried expression on her face, the tattoo’s making her look stunning.

“When you come back we can talk about whatever is bothering you.” She states and I nod, it’s not that I wanted to, but how do I tell the fiercest Metkayina woman no?

“We do not need to travel far, just in the woods, they’re hidden near the clearing.” Tsireya mentions as she begins walking and I follow behind her.

I remember when we would tell each other everything before, but now that I am married to her brother, would she turn and tell him what she’d found out? She wasn’t like that before, but we were friends then, and her brother was an asshole bully that meant absolutely nothing to me. Would things truly change because of one marriage?

“You can tell me anything, Y/n. What troubles you?” She asks and I realize just then I had stopped following her, she had even walked back toward me to say that. I wonder how long It had been since I stopped walking.

“I’m sorry, just stuck in my head today.” I answer without saying much but she just smiles.

“If you’re worried whether I’ll tell Ao’nung, I promise I won’t.” She adds and I feel my bottom lip tremble before my tears gush out again. Remembering the conversation I had with him was heart wrenching, not because of what was said, but because of my feelings on the matter.

“Oh, come here syulang,” She pulls me close to her in a hug as my fat tears dribble down my cheek, taking in big breaths, sniffling to prevent my snot from getting on her gorgeous body.

“Whatever is the reason for this?” She asks while swiping my tears from my cheeks. I felt like I was being comforted by a mother, someone who’d understood how to care for a small child, and my tears kept coming, and I started wailing pathetically.

“Oh no, come here,” She hugs me again, waiting for my tears to finish, and although we stayed in this position for a bit they eventually do.

“Ao’nung just made a silly comment about something that made me emotional,” I tried pushing it off as no big deal but she makes a face.

“I do not want you thinking I am prying, but what did he say? He has a knack for saying the wrong thing frequently.” Tsireya states with her own pout on her face as she thought about her brother.

“It’s stupid, really.” I try playing it off, starting to walk toward the woods to keep our day going.

“Not if it made you cry,” Tsireya states as she walks beside me, keeping her pace steady with mine.

“I was just being sensitive.” I continue walking, finally managing to get into the woods before she stops me.

“Sensitive or not, he should have been kinder.” I sigh, whats the worst that could happen?

“He keeps saying things about having children, but I don’t think it’ll happen. I don’t want to talk about it or I’ll become a crying mess again.” I finally tell her the reasoning and she only nods in understanding.

“If you would like me to beat him up, let me know.” She answers simply, understanding I didn’t want to talk any further on the topic.

“You don’t have to worry about it,”

“Then lets go find the eyewng my mother needs,” She is quick to change the subject but I hadn’t quite expected her to start running toward the clearing. I trotted behind her trying to keep up with her long legs but it was near impossible, she’d arrived at the clearing first and I had been stumbling behind out of breath as fuck.

“Fuck off, I wasn’t ready!”

“You still loose, Y/n,” She laughs as I leaned over myself, hands on my knees, doubled over sucking in the pandoran air greedily.

“Come on they’re over here,” Tsireya motions for me to follow but I’m thankful to Eywa that she was simply walking.

I listened to everything Tsireya said about finding the flower and being careful with it’s sensitive and surprisingly thin petals, I could understand why Ronal had entrusted me to pick them. My hands were small enough to pick them out of the dirt with no damage.

She held the basket as she instructed me on carefully extracting the plant, making sure to bring the roots out as well. I’d placed them in gently and she had stopped me once we’d gathered enough. She even mentioned how badly she tore them during her first scavenge for them and how her mother had to calm her as she cried.

She covered the medicinal purpose of the plant as we continued walking back and gave examples of when it should be used. It surprised me when we’d came back to the entrance of the healing hut since I had no idea how long we’d actually been walking as she talked.

“We are back,” She calls out to her mother who had been tending to one of the fisherman who’d had discoloration of his foot where he’d clearly cut it up with coral. It didn’t look infected but it was still gruesome.

“Y/n, please tear off a petal from the eyewng,” Ronal states while continuing to tend on the foot of the man before us, she’s digging out small particles of coral but making the cut ache and bleed as she continued working.

I hesitate to take one of the two petals this flower possesses and carefully tear it off of the stem, making the one petal appear like a miniature blanket.

“You will need to put it on his foot,” Ronal instructs and I walk over, kneeling down in front of the man, Ronal holds his foot for me.

“Place it gently, ma’eveng.” She says sweetly and I carefully place it on his foot, blanketing the injury he has.

“Good, now place this aloe over the petal very carefully,” she uses her free hand to push a small jar of aloe my way, a flat stick placed in to spread it over any surface easily.

“How much do I need?” I asked, clearly looking for her expertise on the matter, clearly winning her favor.

“Pick some up with the tool in there-“ I do just what she says as she says it. “-perfect, now be careful not to tear the petal, spread it on and make sure to spread it slightly past the petal so it does not fall off easily.”

“Yes, just like that,” She lets the foot go after I am finished and she hides her smile well, but the corners of her mouth were pointed upward.

“Thank you very much,” The male states after Ronal had given him the okay to stand.

“Just be careful next time, Tu’lí, and do not wait as long as you did this time. That is very careless behavior for someone of your rank.” She states harshly and his ears point downward as if being scolded by his own mother.

“Understood,” He bows his head respectfully and she pats his shoulders twice signifying that he could leave, it catches me by surprise that he bows down to me and thanks me as well, just before taking his leave out of the hut.

“Please take Vehlìn to your father, Y/n and I must speak.”

Ronal tells her daughter as she hands off the tiny boy who’d been placed in a make-shift bassinet with blankets inside it. I seem to catch his eye and he makes adorable grabby hands toward me, my own heart yearning to carry the boy, but smiling at him instead.

“I’ll see you later Vehlìn,” I reassure the boy who’d yet to understand words, his little displeased half cry until he notices he’s in his elder sisters arms, happily squealing as he lays his head back down on her chest. Tsireya is quick to disappear, following her mothers instructions and leaving us alone.

“What is the matter?” She asks and takes a seat in front of me, I follow after her, sitting with my legs crossed, facing her and becoming rather nervous to bring this issue to her attention.

Not that it was a real issue, but how many more people needed to be dragged into this conversation? Would she make fun of me for being upset over something so minuscule in her eyes or would she decide to take her sons side after letting her in on it? I could feel my anxiety taking over as I thought about the endless possibilities until she clears her throat, staring right into my soul.

“Well I, no wait, according to your- well technically it’s a tradition? Unless it’s according to- I mean-“

“Whatever is bothering you clearly seems a lot for you to handle,” Her voice was missing the sharp edge it usually held, her observation was true, but I was expecting a rude comment from her.

“I’m just- I can’t understand.” I finished my thought and formed half of a coherent sentence.

“And what is that?” She asks.

“My biggest dream when I was younger was to become an Um’ma and getting courted by Neteyam had me thinking about that possibility in our future. I took it upon myself to ask Norm, the tawtute scientist, about Na’Vi and tawtute compatibility on having children. He said he’d done previous research to see of he could find a way to merge both species together but that it was impossible.”

Ronal nodded occasionally as I talked, not once looking away, or stopping me. I was grateful she was willing to listen to this as I figured she’d want nothing more than to listen to someone else’s struggles in her clan.

“I had been talked to by Neytiri in a horrible way just after finding this news out. Not having his Sa’nok’s blessing and the devastating news had me begging Neteyam to choose someone else. Someone his Sa’nok could approve of and someone he could have children with. But he declined and told me he loved me even if I couldn’t bear his children.”

I continue explaining and am very thankful to have my mother in law being attentive to my story.

“But Ao’nung sounds confident that because of Neteyam choosing us as mates- along with Eywa��s approval- that we are meant to have children. I desperately wish I could give that to him but knowing that it can’t happen makes me feel like a disappointment when I know thats what he wants.”

“You were born on Pandora, yes?” She asks and I nod.

“I was the first tawtute female born on Pandora, Spider was born after me as the first male.” I admit to her and she smiles.

“And you willingly learned of the Omatikaya way?” She asks and I nod once again.

“I was mostly chasing after Spider because I knew Neytiri didn’t like us around her children, but learned the language, and how to trust my body like he did.” I admitted and she nods once.

“Maybe this was all to prepare you to be placed into this position in your life,” She speaks calmly and it only confuses me.

“What do you mean?”

“You trusted your body to move in the forest, yes? Maybe now you should trust that Eywa will guide your body through the necessary changes of pregnancy.”

“But I’m not Na’Vi.”

“You never needed to be one to carry the child.”

“But our bodies aren’t compatible.” I stated quickly, feeling like I did when I had to start yelling at Ao’nung.

“I believe they are more compatible than you think.” She smiles sweetly and I’m at a loss for words.

“And what makes you believe that?” I ask with a sigh, knowing that it was impossible to win this argument without walking away, but I had been tired of all the arguing, I just wanted to have a peaceful conversation with her.

“She has chosen you specifically for my son. She knew of your wishes to become an Um’ma just as he wishes to become an Up’pa, why would she purposely allow your union and torture you without the possibility of carrying a child?” She asks and I’m shocked at her apparent clarity, but I was left clouded, how was she as hopeful as her son.

“Does breaking the shell during the ceremony really tell you how many children the couple will have?” I ask her and she smiles.

“Why don’t you ask Eywa?”

I was unsure of how I had been talked into whatever Ronal had asked me to do, but found myself following along behind her as she gathered everything she needed, tossing them into the water she had been boiling and handing me the basket to pick apart some of the eyewng petals.

She had been the first to explain that if the petal is broken, it no longer works at all, and all of the healing properties comes from the petal staying intact. After she had said that I can conclude this is why that guy, Tu’lì, had bowed for my hands being still enough to not rip the one I’d placed on his foot.

I had heard Ronal start to laugh as my fingers slowed while tearing the petal off of the stem, making sure to carefully remove the stem from the root as well. I started blushing and turn to see her hiding her smile behind her face.

“What are we making?” I asked her as she grabbed the fourth root and placed it in the water, two of the stems, and one petal following right after.

“One is a tea, the other is a test of some sort.” She responds quickly as she stirs the water again, I just stood there watching it change color as she stirred.

“I will need you to spit in this one,” She offers the small shallow bowl over to me to spit into and I just look up at her, expecting her to be joking and quickly realizing she was not.

“Seriously?” I asked out of habit, but manage to dribble spit into the bowl for her, watching her quick hands stirring it together. The powder was a light green color and became slightly darker once it mixed with my spit. Before I could ask her what it was we were looking for she serves up some of the water from the tea and gives it to me.

“Drink?” I ask and she nods, waiting for me to take a sip, I cautiously sniff it, wondering what kind of aroma the eyewng would give off, and find myself slightly disappointed that it didn’t have one. I only look back up at her and take a sip quickly, it lacked flavor as well, it was like drinking hot water, and it felt weird.

“Do you feel any different?” She asks but I just make a face at the question.

“Was I supposed to?” I asked her only to catch her slight frown, she lifts the cup I’d spit into and sets it back down just as fast, was she disappointed?

“No, I guess not.” She states as she puts out the fire where she’d started boiling water.

“Do you need hell cleaning up?” I offer as I get up and take the cup with me only to have her reach a hand out for the cup I had.

“Do not worry about that. I will take care of it. You should go and join for dinner. I will arrive shortly.”

I nod my head in understanding. She was typically a woman who enjoyed her own company and I’m sure I’d already asked her too many questions for the day. I hand her the cup and take my leave, going out toward the designated area and deciding to eat with my adoptive family, it had been some time since I’d seen them and I wanted their company.

Upon walking up to my family I notice one of the most annoying had actually not been within the group. I frown upon the reaction since we always got along, but I wondered why he’d been missing. I say hello to my siblings who are there, Jake and Neytiri included.

“Where’s Lo’ak?” I asked almost immediately after our hello’s.

“He’s finally asking for Tsireya’s hand in marriage.” Jake breaks the news and I feel giddy inside, my stomach even surprisingly bubbles a bit at the thought, he was finally getting married to her!

“It took him long enough!” I smile at the news as everyone agrees.

“He wants to ask permission from everyone separately, He’s already asked Ronal and Tonowari but still needs to ask Ao’nung.” Spider stated as he digs in to his meal.

I’d grabbed one before hand and started picking at it slowly, not really in the mood to eat all that much, I might have to go pick some fruit and enjoy that later.

“I was wondering how long it would take him to set this plan in motion,” I said. “I’m very proud of him though,” I admit and Kiri smiles at the comment.

“He was very nervous when asking Ronal this morning,” She adds in and Tuk laughs.

“He kept starting over before she placed a hand on his shoulder and told him to stop talking before he threw up,” Her squeaky giggles cause me to laugh as well.

“So you guys were spying on him?” I joke.

“He wanted me there for moral support in case she had declined. Tuk just happened to be there,” Kiri lightly pokes Tuk’s shoulder.

_________

“I have already asked your sempul and Sa’nok, but I figured it would be good to ask you as well.” Lo’ak began and I could tell he seemed nervous about whatever was to leave his mouth.

“Ask me what?” I asked him with confusion. After he’d called out to me I was surprised to see him alone for the first time, he usually came up with my sister or his siblings.

“I wanted to know if you would give me your blessing for becoming one with your sister,” He didn’t sound nervous but upon looking up at him I smirk a little, his face showed every emotion running through his head.

“If she has been willing to put up with you for this long I will be surprised if she manages an eternity,” I joke and can see him crumble slightly.

“Not funny, bro, if you would have asked me about Y/n I wouldn’t be teasing you about it.”

“Take it easy, I’m joking, of course you have my blessing. She truly loves you, I do not know why, but she does.” The smile on his face is worth the little joke, he playfully shoves my shoulder but seems excited.

“What do you have in your hands?” He asks and I smile to myself.

“Fish for my wife, she mentioned this kind when we hung out for the first time. I knew this is what she had been talking about but forgot about it in the midst of everything that happened.” I answered and he nods.

“I always knew you were a sap, the type to pay attention and spoil her just to act all tough in front of everyone else.”

“Shut it, forest boy, I can take you in a fight now.”

“Yeah, sure,” Lo’ak laughs and I glare at him.

“I could,” I stated again.

“Do I need to remind you of your face meeting my fist, several times?” He was clearly amused at the conversation but I just rolled my eyes, there was no point in getting mad over nothing.

“Sure, Lo’ak,” I stated absently and he places a hand on my shoulder, stopping us from walking toward the crowd

“Everything okay?” He asks with genuine concern and I feel proud of how far we’ve come since the first day he arrived.

“I hope it will be,” I admit and he raises a brow.

“Whats going on?” He asks but I just shake my head.

“Just a small argument with your tsmuke, I upset her.” I try giving as little detail as possible, I don’t want to be reminded of upsetting her or bringing this intimate detail up to family. I’m sure they’d find out at some point but I didn’t want to upset her any more than necessary and I doubted she’d want half the clan to find out why.

“They’re sitting together, let’s go see if she’ll forgive you,” He wiggles his brows after stating that and I roll my eyes. It was always something stupid with this one. I shake my head at his antics but follow behind him either way.

“Hey tsmuke,” Lo’ak greets her while placing his hand on her head and ruffling her hair, intentionally messing it up and making it stick out randomly, she shoved his hand off her head while laughing and smacks it away from her.

“Stop disturbing the peace you wild hyena,” She says before her face freezes as her eyes land on me. I smile at her and she returns it before her attention is drawn toward Jake.

“I take it things went well?” He asks as he looks at his son and I notice Y/n turning to face Jake as he says that.

“Now I just have to ask Tsireya.” Lo’ak nervously runs his hands over his knees while joining in with his family.

“You will be fine ma’itan, I see the way she looks at you and how happy she is when she is with you.” Neytiri gives her son a hug while also nudging Y/n and she looks at her adoptive mother before looking back at me, understanding settling on her features a she stands.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” She waves at everyone before joining me and tugging my arm gently, so I follow her as we walk to be more secluded spot.

“I brought you dinner-“ I offer and hand her the wrapped fish.

“Thats so sweet, but I just ate,” She takes it either way. “But I know your mother hasn’t eaten yet, I think she’s still want to-“ She stops talking and stares at the wrapped food in her hands.

“Can you take this a second?” She asks and sounds different, I take it from her just as she turns and vomits, her stomach having rejected the contents of food she had just ate. She’d had her hair braided and out of the way and I’m thankful she did, but she uses her hand to wipe her mouth.

“Lets go toward Ma’Sa’nok,” I stated, making sure to hold onto the food and push her stray hairs away from her forehead.

“I’m fine,” She stated tiredly. “Just want to go home and sleep.”

“I’d feel safe if she looks you over, tíyawn.” I urge and she sighs, nodding after.

“Okay.” She stated as we start walking a short distance over toward my mother’s healing hut. Still seeing her carefully cleaning her supplies as we walk in.

“Don’t you worry, I saw what happened. Y/n I need you to sit down please.”

“Please don’t make me drink that tea again.” She mentions as she sits and places a hand on her belly, gently running her hand to try to ease the ache. “I have a feeling it made me vomit.” She says and my mother smiles.

“I had no idea how it would react with tawtute which is why I had you spit into the dish as well. Making sure to mix everything together very well. The tea was supposed to make you do that, but it appears your reaction is delayed.”

It starts making sense to me now, she must have given Y/n Eyewng tea earlier, but did she have a reason for doing that, or was she just curious? I eye my mother and look back to my mate.

“You knew it would make me throw up?” Y/n asks and looks like she wants to argue, but rubs her stomach again and groans, she looked uncomfortable.

“It only makes you throw up if you are expecting.” My mother turns back around and shows us a bowl with purple pigment inside of it, my eyes widen at the realization, looking back at Y/n I smile as my eyes fill with tears.

“Expecting what?” She asks as she looks at the purple colored pigment, eyes going back up to my mother who’d been smiling, then she looks at me, face softening.

“Why are you crying?” She asks gently but eyes my mother again, I don’t bother explaining much as I sink onto my knees and hug her, bringing her body closer to mine and feeling her sigh as she snuggles into me.

“I feel better when you hold me,” She rests her head on my chest and I chuckle.

“Will one of you tell me whats going on?” She asks sleepily.

“Your child is seeking comfort from ma’itan, you’ll crave being around your mate now more than ever.” My mother fills her in and she pops her head up from my shoulder.

“What child?” She asks and I kiss her cheek.

“You are with child, ma’tìyawn.”

[tomorrowxtogether]

YEONJUN: “It’s the one and only time I’ve ever truly been in love with something I’m doing”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Name Chapter: FREEFALL comeback interview

2023.10.26

YEONJUN, an artist firmly planted in the now, took a look back at the times when he didn’t feel he amounted to anything at all.

​I heard you have some new hobbies, including photography and listening to vinyl records. Is there a reason you’re taking pictures with special equipment now?

YEONJUN: As you know, I’m always having my picture taken by cameras. One time I was hanging out with a friend and they showed up with their camera. I saw the photos they took when we met some time later and they were amazing. I wanted to be able to do that, too—to look back on memories of everyday moments that would otherwise just pass by and capture them instead. The photos I take will be more than simply what the other cameras capture of me—they’re my very own behind-the-scenes look at things.

You mentioned that you’ve become more introverted and that you’re devoting more time and energy to yourself.

YEONJUN: I used to always meet up with friends whenever I had some downtime, but now it’s like I keep looking for things I want to do alone. I mean, my job requires that I’m constantly in front of other people.. At some point I took a look and realized I didn’t have a single minute to myself. I felt like I needed some time exclusively for me. I never used to like eating alone, but at some point, it became something I felt comfortable doing, and I ended up with more time to recharge my batteries while quietly writing lyrics or cleaning up my room.

It sounds like the change happened while you were figuring out for yourself what your needs are.

YEONJUN: I habitually end up taking a look at how I’m doing, so I’m usually pretty self-aware.

Since you know yourself that well, you must be very aware of how you come across to others. Is there any special reason you carefully pick out your outfits, even on just regular days?

YEONJUN: With my job and everything, I always make an effort to dress decently, even on regular days. I think your outward appearance is important in this job, and paying attention to small details like that is one way I take care of myself.

​You’re very hard on yourself, so you usually aren’t totally satisfied with your own performances, but you said, for the first time “in the longest time,” you were “satisfied with” and “proud of” your performance of “Back for More (with Anitta)” at the 2023 MTV Video Music Awards.

YEONJUN: We do the same dances hundreds of times for every song, so I can tell when I’m doing a good job or not. In most cases, there’s parts I’m a little unhappy with. Maybe I didn’t manage my energy properly, or I missed a move, or became a little stiff, and even if mistakes like those don’t show, we know. Those are the kind of small details only we notice, and even if people say we did a good job, we just feel bad about it no matter what. I feel like it’s hard to pull off as well as we do during practices because of the different outfits and our physical condition on the actual stage, but I felt like I actually was as good at the VMAs as when we practiced, so I was happy with the performance.

Did you plan every single thing in advance while practicing, like how to move your body without a single issue by carefully thinking through your movements down to the angle of your legs and the small details with your toes?

YEONJUN: It’s habitual now. You don’t think about how you should hold your spoon when you’re eating—you just eat. Similarly, the same thing applies to everything from angles to small details when practicing because all of those things have to be perfect. I don’t set out to pay special attention to any particular part when dancing—it just comes naturally to me now that I’m always paying attention.

I was really impressed the way you suggested to the other members of the group that you treat practice like the real thing for Lollapalooza Chicago, or how you actively contributed ideas on how to improve things when you were working together with the backup dancers from overseas.

YEONJUN: I think that was a result of me feeling like I’m responsible when it comes to matters of the stage. I want to be free and loose when performing at a festival, but looking back, it felt to me like we came across less like having a good time before and more stiff. So I thought, if we can’t just go in right away feeling loose, we need to practice that. And I naturally learned how to work better with backup dancers thanks to all the experience I’ve had. I’ve been working with all kinds of people ever since I was a trainee, and I learned that it’s better even for the people you’re collaborating with if you don’t hold anything back and just speak openly about your thoughts. I also feel like you have to know how to put a somewhat laid back, comfortable atmosphere in place in order for things to go smoothly.

You once said that “whether it be the biggest venue or the biggest stage for a singer, I want to perform in it.” Since then, you headlined Lollapalooza and performed at the VMAs. Would you say that, to some extent, your wish came true?

YEONJUN: Very much so. But I still want more. Humans are greedy. (laughs) I want to push our boundaries as far as we can. Playing on big stages is a significant source of motivation for me. Achieving one thing doesn’t mean it’s the end. I don’t want to slide back when we’re already up here. The more we grow and deliver good results, the bigger the expectations from the audience. I think the higher you climb, the harder the fall can be, and that pushes me to keep obsessing over getting better. But most importantly, I don’t want to let myself down.

our third studio album is about gliding down toward your dreams while also taking on the real world. Are you experiencing any “growing pains,” like in the lyrics to the single “Chasing That Feeling”?

YEONJUN: I know I have a lot of room for improvement, but I don’t really want to show that part of me to other people. I know just how much I still have left to work on. That’s why I have to work harder and why I’m so obsessed with the idea. It’s something that eats away at me sometimes, but I also know that it helps me grow, so I don’t shut it out. And that’s why I really want to capture that drive in our latest single. I want to be totally absorbed in the song when I’m performing it for people.

I’m reminded of when you were recording the previous album and you were frustrated because you were having a very hard time putting the direction you received into practice even though you understood it. What were things like this time around?

YEONJUN: It was like that this time too. Some songs are suited for my voice and easy to sing, but there’s also songs that make me go, What —am I seriously this bad? (laughs) “Happily Ever After” was hard because the really high and thin style is a bit different from my own, and yet “Growing Pain,” even though it was my first time trying something like that, was actually fine. I’m really into rock these days and it was fun because I think I really leveled up while singing it. I wanted to show off that I’m good at stuff like this, too.

You helped write lyrics for five songs on this album, and you always give your lyrics a really trendy, unique spin. What’s your approach to writing?

YEONJUN: I’m actually getting a little bit confused lately. The writing process didn’t go so smoothly this time around. (laughs) I don’t think it’s easy to incorporate my usual writing style with the kind of storytelling that the label is after. I actually thought I had a good grasp of that before, but not that much of what I wrote was a good fit for the album this time, I guess. (laughs) Bits and pieces of my lyrics made it in, but it feels like I wasn’t grasping the right feeling or like I wasn’t quite sure of myself when I wrote them.

It’s like the more you feel that sense of conflict, the more you crave to be creative.

YEONJUN: I’ve had that exact same thought lately. (laughs) I’ve also been working on a mixtape, but writing the lyrics has become a bit harder, and that’s because I’m trying to write good ones. I feel like I can’t really get going—maybe because I’m too worried about being perfect. It’s like I used to write freely before but now I have so many hang-ups that it’s like torture trying to write, like, Man … What now? Once again, it’s all because of the pressure I put on myself.

For all the pressure you’re feeling, you sure show a lot of pride and self-confidence. How can you consistently feel so proud of your group when you’re practically a perfectionist when it comes to your own work?

YEONJUN: I just … I just feel confident. Sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough and I lose some of my self-esteem, but I don’t think I’ve ever lost my sense of pride in the group or in myself. To be honest, there’s going to be some people who think we’ve had some things relatively easy thanks to how good our label is and the artists here that came before us. While it’s true that we got help from so many people, we’re the ones who made it through it all and we worked for everything we ever achieved. I have pride and confidence in that. Because, at the end of the day, we’re the ones who walked this road and made it all this way.

I think the reason you keep reaching for someplace higher without settling for what you already have is because you know that you can make it.

YEONJUN: I think I can—at least I’m confident I might be able to. You’ll never make it otherwise. You need to have spirit at least if you want to make something happen. (laughs)

When MOA recently asked you if it’s okay for them to watch the boy group survivor show that aired recently, you were quick to respond, “You can watch it. I’m not worried—I know you still love me.” Did you say that because you’re confident in yourself or because you feel secure in your relationship with MOA?

YEONJUN: Both. (laughs) Anyway, I mean, of course they can watch it. But I had this kind of confidence: “You would still love me more.” (laughs) And anyway, I know MOA is just joking around and trying to make me jealous. (laughs)

You sound like legit friends. (laughs) You’ve said you don’t feel the slightest bit nervous or any kind of pressure when you’re on stage and it’s just MOA.

YEONJUN: Just as you don’t second guess yourself or give a second thought to what you’re doing when you’re with your real friends, when we’re going to see MOA, I tell the other members “Guys, let’s just have fun!” They know and love everything about us better than anyone—everything from our personalities to the ways we sing and dance. So I don’t feel any pressure at all. Conversely, I feel a little pressure when there’s other people there because I want to make our fans proud.

What do you feel is your secret weapon for making your fans so proud? When you were on SUCHWITA with TAEHYUN, he said it’s your “charm and star quality.”

YEONJUN: My secret weapon? Well … I’m curious, too. I don’t really know, to be honest. Maybe just, I guess, that I’m equally not too bad at everything? (laughs) Now that we’ve been around a few years, I’ve heard so many times that younger artists really, really look up to me. It made me think, Am I really that great? What is it about me? (laughs) And I’ve thought about it from time to time, but the honest answer is that I just don’t know. But also that I kind of do? (laughs) If I were forced to choose, I’d probably choose what TAEHYUN said, but I think I’ll just keep working hard all the same, no matter what it is. (laughs)

When you and TAEHYUN said on the show that you’re determined to make it all the way to the top, it made me curious where you get that kind of ambition from.

YEONJUN: I used to be this kind of person who wasn’t good at a single thing. But then people started to pay attention to me for the first time when I danced at school. I was terrible at it (laughs) but the kids all said, “You’re good at dancing,” and that’s where it all started. I wasn’t ambitious and full of drive like this at first, but then I became a trainee, got a little better fighting through the steep competition, eventually debuted, faced even more competition, and step by step, throughout that process, it was only natural that I became so ambitious. I never wanted to do anything other than this, and that’s still true today. What would I do otherwise? It’s not because I’m not good at anything else but because there’s nothing else I love and put as much emotion and energy into. There’s plenty of times when this job gets hard, but I think I’d be having a much harder time if I weren’t doing it.

Did pursuing your dream have a direct effect on your self-improvement even when you had lower self-esteem?

YEONJUN: It must’ve had a big effect. When I first went to dance academy, I was so nervous that I couldn’t even sing. I couldn’t dance, either. I was really scared and had no confidence, asking myself if I was even capable. It felt like no one would ever notice me. But then, while I was there, I heard things like, “You have good facial expressions when you dance,” and, “Your tone is good when you sing,” and every time I was paid a compliment like that, it was a huge boost. I think that built up my self-confidence a bit, again and again, then more and more and more until I got to where I am today. So many people were by my side during those tough times. They became my friends and spent their time with me. Looking back now, that was both one of the hardest and one of the happiest times of my life.

Wow. It sounds like taking this path changed you completely.

YEONJUN: True. So true. It changed me a lot. It’s the one and only time I’ve ever truly been in love with something I’m doing.

You were asked who you would want to be if you could be one other person for a day, and you answered no one because you like yourself better than anyone else. What do you feel when you look back at everything that’s happened to you so far?

YEONJUN: The life I’ve led so far, the people I’ve met along the way, all the relationships, my job—I’m just so grateful for everything. That’s why I’d want to be reborn as me again. Even if I had to go through all the rough times again. Because I know I’d find the happiness in all of it anyway.

[reneesbooks]

Plot notecards -- elaborate?? (If you want to? Says a writer desperate for any plot tips she can get)

Also I need to meet Will Moore

--@oh-no-another-idea

yes i will happily elaborate i love notecards i use them for like. everything. i have a postit dispenser on my desk at work that i filled with notecards lol

so this is a method i developed when i was in a novel writing class in college and does require a fairly large number of notecards but that's it in terms of supplies! low budget option for if you're like me and need to see things visually laid out but also need them to be portable and rearrangeable and easily exchangeable. i have color coded notecards for some wips because i am Like That and i will be using the thieves of morbhard (red) for this example but you might see some lacuna ones (blue) sprinkled in there. tragically i couldn't find my original three moons notecards and think they might have gotten recycled in the move T-T

you can do this with or without chapter notecards--the original project i did this for had no chapter divisions and thus no chapter notecards but i made them for thieves before the scene ones. they're a good way to outline the big strokes of the story even if you don't know how many chapters you'll need. you can always make a new notecard if things change! allow me to explain

here's a chapter notecard from thieves. one the blank side i put a quick descriptor of the main event for the chapter and/or the chapter name if i know it, a number so i can easily put everything in order later, and a label so i know which wip it belongs to. the lined side has my actual notes for the chapter--this can be flexible depending on your style! i like to at least have an opening and closing scene to anchor myself when i actually sit down to write, and then just some quick and dirty notes on what i imagine happening/what scenes i hallucinated in the shower seem like they fit in this general part of the story/major emotional beats, etc. this can be as detailed or as sparse as you like! another less detailed example from thieves, this time chapter 8:

obligatory kitty picture (she's helping!):

ok so the scene notecards. this is the real meat of this method. this originally started as a nanowrimo method and the idea was that i would have this little deck of scene cards to pull from when i was feeling stuck/didn't want to write/hadn't hit my wordcount yet and then i would have to write whatever that scene was. this is still a really good strategy for me and is the main reason that i love using actual physical notecards.

on the blank side is a short descriptor of the scene. these are all from different chapters of thieves and some of them are really short scenes with a lot of emotional weight, and some are major story beats that probably take place over multiple scenes. there's no rules as to how you divide up your scenes on the notecards! as long as it's something distinct enough that you'll know what you're talking about when you pick it up after a week or two. if your notecards aren't color coded a wip label probably wouldn't hurt

second kitty picture (she's NOT helping)

the backside is similar to chapter notecards in that it's super flexible what you put there--i've got explanations for plot points, emotional beats, i've even written snippets of dialogue that i thought of or a descriptor i think sounds cool. this side of the notecard can even be blank! i also label them with which chapter they come from (if i know) for ease of organization if they get all mixed up when i don't want them to be. here's those same scene notecards from thieves again:

you can use the scene cards and the chapter cards together, to organize when things happen in the story/what order they happen within the chapter. here's an example from lacuna of my scene and chapter cards for chapter 1:

another thing i like to do, especially when i'm still making the notecards/not drafting yet--take out the chapter cards and shuffle the scene cards, then flip through adding notes to the back side until they all have something that i feel like i can work off of when i sit down to draft. i've gotten a pretty detailed outline of thieves with this method before writing any actual prose! this also works in retrospective (which is how it started anyway) like i did with lacuna, where i had a draft and then made scene cards based on what i'd already written/what i wanted to write/what i felt like was missing and organized from there. all around a super versatile method and medium for plotting!

[capricorn-writer-kawaii]

That Night in the Hot Springs

Chapter 3/3

Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Enji Todoroki X Reader, ⚠️smut⚠️, fluff, angst, age difference, divorced Endeavor, ⚠️anime spoilers⚠️

Words: 3k

Summary: A divorced and hard-working Endeavor allows himself to lose his composure at the desire he feels for his young colleague. Yet, the flame hero did not count on the fact that what seemed to be just one wild night stand in a hot spring would lead him to fall madly in love.

A/N: This idea just kept popping up in my mind. In the end, it came out longer than expected, my bad, but if it's about Enji being soft and in love, I couldn't help but write a little more. Also, I was very excited to write about Endeavor after his wonderful character development. Why not give him a second chance?

🔥Prev. chapter🔥

Chapter 3– Are you ready?

“So, you're not coming back to the agency? It's been a week already." Hawks had invited you to another beer after you told him everything. 

"I don't know, I think it'd be better to find another place to work."

"Gorgeous, you're not gonna like what I have to say, but I think Endeavor was right not to let you go on that mission with that guy."

"Hawks, are you fucking kidding me?"

"Listen to me." He asked putting his hand on your shoulder.

“I heard some nasty rumors about that guy. Some days ago two intern girls left the agency and Endeavor suspected they were harassed by this guy. I don't think he was just acting out of jealousy, I think he was protecting you, in his own way. I mean, if he can't even stand ME teasing you, now imagine how he'd feel knowing you were away with such a person. He's bitter and bad-tempered, and you're right, every visit to Dabi makes it worse, but the big guy has a good heart and you'd have to be an idiot not to realize that he cares so much for you that he wouldn't hesitate to give his life for you.”

"I shouldn't have talked to you." You said covering your face.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm just saying that yes, he's jealous and possessive, but this time he had a point. Although he was a jerk and he shouldn't have offended you. I imagine that it mustn't be easy for him to keep going with this relationship. I mean, his public image has never been the best, he has improved, yes... but after Dabi, it has taken him a lot of work to recover a good name. I guess people will judge him for having a relationship with someone younger and from the same agency as him."

You kept silent listening to what Hawks was saying, it was something you had thought about many times, but when you tried to talk about it with Enji, he brushed it off saying that you didn't have to worry about it.

“Also, he has to deal with all those stupid men behind you. Guys of your age and with whom everything would be easier, Endeavor projects as someone self-confident, but I don't buy it."

That talk with Hawks got you down and worried more than you needed to.

The next day, Endeavor had finished work and was looking out at the city through the windows of his office. He didn't listen a knock on the door or someone entering until he heard Hawks’ voice.

"Looking out that window isn't gonna make her come back." Said the winged hero crossing his arms.

"Get out of here!" Whirling away, Endeavor glared at his colleague; fortunately, Hawks didn't fear him; in fact, he saw Enji as his friend, so he was not affected by his countenance.

“You're famous for acting right on time, why are you taking so long in a job that concerns you and you care?”

"The other jobs have required me to act, I'm not sure this is the case." He responded by looking back out the window. “Sometimes you do more by taking a step back.”

"Pride won't get you anywhere, big boss."

"How the hell do you know so much?" To tell the truth, it didn't seem so farfetched that Hawks knew by being so close to you. "Also, it's not about the discussion, it goes beyond that."

“If you're so sure of your decision, why are you here looking out the window? End things head-on. Since when are you a person who doubts or hides?"

"I don't want to hurt her." Enji accepted. "Fuck, I tried so hard to make things right this time but..."

"And you did, I have no doubts you got it. But you need to make a decision." 

A couple of hours later than Endeavor used to get home, there was a knock on your door. For some reason, the hero hadn't felt free to use his keys and now you were in front of him. He looked more serious than usual, which didn't surprise you given the days had passed without speaking.

"Hi," You didn’t know how to act, you didn't know how sore he was.

"You haven't answered any of my messages or calls." He said as he closed the door behind him; despite his claim, he didn't see him upset, if not especially serious, something that didn't give you a good vibe. You knew how to deal with angry Enji, not this version he was showing you.

"I needed a little time."

“Well, I think enough time has passed. What are you gonna decide, are you still in my agency, or are you leaving?”

"That was what you wanted to know, that's why you're here." You can't help but let out a sad and ironic laugh. How could you think that he was there to talk about you two? He was right, you were a delusional girl.

"I haven't decided yet." You answer by sitting on a sofa. “But no matter what my decision is, I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have made an opinion or judged you. You're right, I'm immature and there are many things I don't know. Dabi's your son, it's logical that you continue to worry about him; after all, you're a good father, whether you believe it or not.”

“Don't apologize for that, I know why you brought it up, I was the one who didn't take it well. It's a sensitive subject. I know you didn't say it to hurt me, you were worried, but you also had the right to be upset, that hadn't been a good day and I took it out on all of you."

There was something in that apology that had you anxious. When Enji made a mistake, his apologies used to be accompanied by a caress, he would at least take your hand and pull you closer to him, but that night he just sat next to you and stared at the table in front.

“Now, although you didn't attack me, I did. I hurt you. I didn't think about it, it just left my lips."

"If it came out like that, it's because you did think like that."

"No," he said firmly. “It's not like you're thinking. I've never thought that you’re immature, your way of seeing things is something that I've always liked and it has made me feel good so many times. I don't know why I said something so different from what I think, I'm not going to excuse myself by saying that I was upset. I'm not used to sharing so much of my life with someone and you mentioning my son put me in a vulnerable spot. I'm sorry, I couldn't handle it."

“It won't happen again, I promise you. If I continue in your agency, I'll be more professional and I'll respect you, you're my boss, I have no right to claim anything from you." Endeavor shook his head negatively, that type of relationship was not something he wanted to have with you. Besides, he wasn't there exclusively to find out about your decision, he had only used that as an excuse.

“If you decide to stay and really want to go on that mission, go. I don't like that guy and I don't like seeing him around you, I won't deny it, but when I forbade you to go, it wasn't out of jealousy.”

Endeavor finally looked up and the first thing he saw was how the ruby he had given you shone on your neck, you never took it off. Later, he noticed your discouraged face, he even saw you thinner. He had arrived at your house convinced of something, or rather, he had forced himself to convince himself that you would be better off without him, but seeing you like this, added to how he truly felt, forced him to doubt everything again. Especially when you reached out and laid your head on his shoulder.

"I've missed you so much, I hate it when we argue, Enji."

"Kid, wait, I'm not done talking." Those words made you feel a cold in your body that didn't go away even by being at Endeavor's side. A few moments passed in which he sighed and for the first time, you saw him defeated. “I have thought a lot about us, and I think it's not fair for you to continue seeing me. What have I offered you so far? A secret affair? A relationship with a guy loaded with issues? You're young, the most beautiful, kind, and talented woman I've ever met. You deserve to have a normal relationship, go on dates, and not have to worry if your boyfriend comes home from jail after visiting his kid. It's not fair that you are wasting these years of your life by my side.”

You didn't lose sight of Endeavor's hands balling into fists and holding the fabric of his pants. You also didn't ignore the dark look on his face as he spoke.

"Enji, do you really want us to break up?" You asked with a lump in your throat.

"It's not about what I want, it's about what's best for you."

“You mean that if I tell you to break up, you're going to take it just like that? If I say yes, won't you care about everything we've been through all this year? Is it so easy for you to just turn the page?”

“Kid, don't make this more difficult! I'm trying to think of you and not me! It's hard enough, don't make it worse. I've been always a damn selfish man and I'm trying to change that because I truly care about you!"

“Do you actually think that the best thing for me is not to see you anymore? Enji, what do you think you mean to me?"

“Have you not seen how all the people who have lived with me have ended up? I don't want that to happen to you, I wouldn't be able to bear it if you ended up hating me."

Before the hero got up, you did, but to sit on his lap and take his face. "Enji, listen to me. I don't want someone my age, I'm not interested in going on dates either, the ones I have with you are wonderful. It worries me when you visit him because it’s so painful to see you suffer and not know how to help you, but if you would let me, I could help you. I'm not looking for what we have to go public either, but when the time comes, and if you feel comfortable too, I'll be happy to brag to everyone that Endeavor’s my boyfriend. Do you frankly want to think about me? So, stay by my side. Now, if what you want is to break up because our relationship puts a lot of pressure on you…”

"No!" He said immediately, he had even put his hands on your hips. "No, no! I don't want that, that's why it took me so long to tell you all this! How can I stop seeing you? At first, I thought that this need to be with you was because you drive me crazy, but it's not just that. I'm happy with you."

"Enji, I love you. No matter how complicated it gets, I promise I'll stay here next to you. If my staying at your agency complicates things for you, I can leave. I'd miss working with you, but I don't want to jeopardize everything you had worked for so hard." 

"Kid, if I did anything right in my life, it was when I gave you my soul by welcoming you into my agency. Don't go." He begged with a sigh, totally in love with you. "And if you don't mind, we could change our plans a bit, let me take you on a date as you deserve."

"You're sure?"

"I never said that I didn't want to do it, when I tried to invite you, you said no."

“I thought you'd feel uncomfortable if people got close.”

"Fuck it, after all, I've never been a charismatic hero." He responded by making you laugh. "I love you too, kid." He finished before kissing you.

A few weeks later, you waited for your boyfriend to finish going through some cases in his office. He called you to ask your opinion about something, but as soon as you walked over to read the papers, Endeavor laughed mischievously and spanked you making you jump.

"Enji!" You said with a red face and still feeling your skin hot from such a spank.

"Let's leave those papers for the assistant, I've already worked a lot for today." Taking you in his arms, he made you giggle as he walked over to the huge sofa he had in his office, he had bought it to have a comfortable place where he could be with you.

Eager to feel your boyfriend closer, you pulled him by the neck of his costume so you could finally kiss him. You loved when you had him on top of you wearing that because you could perfectly feel every muscle in his body. Also, you knew how to make him lose his mind thanks to the fabric that his costume was made of, and you did so when you sat on top of him and began to rub your body against his. Enji spanked you again, but this time with such force that you had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. You bit him so hard that he smirked as he sensed you had broken it and a little blood was coming out.

That night you were so desperate that without expecting anything else, you started to ride him. You didn't even take off his clothes properly neither yours, you just moved what was necessary.

You two were just as passionate, just as wild to make love, which was why Endeavor tipped his head back and ordered you to continue bouncing on top of him. He let you do what you wanted for a while, but his domineering nature led him to put you on your knees and let him take control. That night he particularly became obsessed with your ass and he spanked it so many times you were sure you would have bruises for days. Even so, every time he did it you felt a tingle all over your body announcing that you were close to coming. Endeavor wanted to see your face, so he laid you back down, then positioned himself on top of you, and as soon as he saw your eyes, he smiled. 

“Oh, kid, what have you done to me?” He questioned bringing his forehead closer to yours without stopping moving, not so fast anymore, but deeper than before.

For the first time while making love, you received a hero's kiss on your forehead. However, before you could even process what had happened, Endeavor used the ace up his sleeve, the trick he kept when he wanted to make you reach the highest point of pleasure. He knew you so well that he quickly took covered your mouth with his hand to drown out the cry you gave when you felt how Enji warmed his cock a little more each time until it reached the perfect temperature. You implored him to continue until you felt that incomparable heat in your entire body. There was only one thing that could do it better, and you begged him to do it with your eyes, you asked him to come inside of you and he did it.

Nothing felt better than that heat running down your legs at the same time as you saw Enji's smirk from knowing that he had caused you so much pleasure to the woman he loved. He was also drenched in sweat and never missed the opportunity to look at your legs covered by him.

"You're amazing." You whispered lying on his body and kissing his chin, lips, and cheeks.

“I had something to tell you before you started all your sexual innuendo.”

"Oh, shut up! I didn't do anything, you just called me to help, and like the pervert that you are, you didn't resist." Enji let out a guffaw that rang throughout the office. That rarely happened and you would never tire of hearing him laugh. "Well, what were you going to tell me? "You asked closing your eyes and letting yourself be pampered by the handsome flame hero.

“Would you like to go home for dinner on Friday?” It seemed strange to you that he asked you something so trivial, after all, you always ate at home and you still hadn't agreed on your official date.

"Sure, love, we can prepare something nice." You replied.

“Kid, I mean my house. I talked to the boys and, well…”

"Wait, what?" Very messy and still agitated, you straightened until you were sitting practically on his hip. “Did you tell your kids about me?!”

"Shoto was the first to react and he asked me if it was you I was dating, Fuyumi got quite excited, and Natsuo couldn't believe that you had accepted to give me a chance." He commented with a frown, but you couldn't help but laugh. “I thought it would be more complicated, but they said that after almost 15 years divorced, it was time for me to try again, although they thought it'd never happen. So what do you say, beautiful? Ready to meet them? They don't talk much, but I promise you they are good kids, and they'll treat you well."

Still in shock that Enji was ready to take such a big step, you nodded your head and showed so much excitement, that your boyfriend laughed tenderly.

“Oh! And before I forget it, we have to put one more seat, Hawks threatened to leave the agency if we didn't invite him to dinner. So, I think we'll have a full house."

You immediately hugged your hero again, unable to believe that what started as a passionate night in a hot spring had ended like that. There was still a long way to go, but both were certain that you wanted to be together.

"I love you, kid." He told you again, assuring you that you were not dreaming.

[deadmenandthedivine]

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter fifteen: dragons have horns

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, disassociation, thoughts of self harm and annihilation, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 5207

“You will leave and never come back whole.”

Helaena always had a way of knowing too much. Too much for her own good. She saw everything coming. Even when they were children. Whether she saw it in her dreams or predicted it outright, she was no fool. She was something far greater. Someone who had been blessed by the Gods themselves. Only a fool would take her warnings for granted. Only a fool would deem her mad. Her words echoed in the princess’s ears into the afternoon.

“I shall see you once your family has left.”

It was as if Maetilda had been knocked off her feet. Her family had no plans to leave, not that she had been aware of. They had a wedding to plan. They needed to pick flowers, performers, foods, and more. There was still so much left to do. Of course, arrangements would be made for her belongings at Dragonstone and for the transportation of Shrykos, but neither of those would require her family to leave. Not any time soon. Such a small statement had thrown the princess into a complete tailspin. What did she mean? What had she been trying to tell her? Was that supposed to be a warning? And if so, what is she to do? At some point, the answerless questions began to make her head pound. Maetilda tried to keep herself distracted so that she would not continue to ruminate. To keep herself sane. First, she stopped at the library. Shamefully, she had yet to even attempt reading the books she had taken the other night. Pacing the shelves with Ser Eddrin in tow, she felt as if she could not pick up any others. Instead, she scanned the spines and gathered what she could from the covers she would stop to glance over. The library was much different during the day. Far less creepy and intimidating, making it easier to allow her imagination to run wild with each book she felt drawn to. Yet even so, the library soon grew boring. One could only stay entertained for so long without actually opening a book. Especially when a future of pain and misery loomed overhead. It seemed that no matter where her imagination ran, the path always led back to everything she was trying to avoid. After the library lost its shine, the princess wandered over to the Godswood. The day was more humid than it had been previously. It felt like the air clung to her skin. Ser Eddrin’s armor squeaked and clunked more than usual. Together, the princess and her knight willfully strode the muddy path that would only get muckier with more rain, which the heavy air suggested to be just around the corner. But when she glanced up toward the clouds, or lack thereof, the sky was clear and blue. Not a sign of rain in sight. 

“There are no clouds.” The princess told her knight.

“Aye,” Ser Eddrin nodded, “No clouds.”

“Seems like there should be, does it not?”

“You want me to do somethin’ about that?” His voice was strained.

“No,” Maetilda shook her head with a ghost of a smile, “But you could do something about the humidity.”

Ser Eddrin’s face was blank and serious before he erupted into laughter. He gave her a pat on the back before his howling stopped quickly, too quickly. The abruptness of his silence was jarring, but the pat had been comforting. Even if it would have been considered unbecoming in good company. As if she were in need of comfort. The knight looked at her with wide eyes as he realized what he had done. Immediately, he bowed his head and began a long tirade of apologies. “Mi’lady, I don’t know what came over me. ‘Won’t ever happen again. You have my sincerest apologies. As your knight, it is my duty to—”

The princess tried to flash a comforting smile as she cut him off, “No harm was done. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“You are far too forgiving.”

“You have been by my side for as long as I can remember.”

“Proudly.” His nod was firm and absolute.

“And so, there is nothing to forgive.”

“Princess, it was not honorable of me to touch you. I will not make light of it. I am sorry it happened. There will not be a second time.”

All she could do was cross her arms. She felt on edge, and the weather was not helping. She felt like she had offended him. Riddled with guilt and uncertainty, the princess spent her journey recounting every instance in which she had asked too much of the people around her. Forcing Ser Wyllam to follow her around the castle in pursuit of Helaena at his old age. Expecting Ser Eddrin to dig her out of the hole that was the rune-carved stones. Forcing Ser Gunthor to stand outside in the cold while she slept. Her knight was undoubtedly tired of her. Even so, he did his job effortlessly. He managed to successfully distract her, whether she had asked him to or not. Instead of ruminating over Helaena and her vague warnings, Maetilda had become consumed by the appropriateness of her own behavior. And as soon as the silver honey haired royal arrived at the entrance of the Godswood, she was overwhelmed with even more turmoil. Reminded of her dream just the night before, locked in horror from the very thought, her legs refused to cross the threshold. What if the cloaked figure was hiding in there? What if it was waiting with the jagged rock in hand? Would Ser Eddrin be able to stop it? How would one fight a ghost? The uncertainty was a definitive deterrence. She did not want to find the answers to those questions. Instead, she scanned the courtyard for alternative options. Anything to get her out of there. Anything to get her away from her own mind.

The courtyards were fairly busy that day, as well as the  browning gardens. Subjects and attendants littered and meandered about the grounds. Some dressed in fine silks and gowns, many more dressed in their working attire. The princess quickly decided to avoid the crowds. As she looked around, her eyes caught sight of the Dragonpit in the distance. Sat at the top of Rhaenys’s Hill, the structure domineered over the horizon. King Maegor had ordered its construction, and it showed. The infamously cruel king had never seen the masterpiece to completion, the construction having lasted into his cousin’s reign, but his essence oozed from every crevice. It was built to house every dragon left in the world and any dragon yet to be born. Large and imposing like a castle, yet was still too small for Balerion or Vhagar — who had never stopped growing. But could it hold Shrykos? Having hatched in Valyria just the same, she was smaller but not by much. A beast who was large and domineering, yet not enough to hold a candle to her late stepmother’s mount. While Shrykos was not there, it seemed that she would soon be visiting frequently. She would need to have a place of her own to stay, to nest. And it would be no one but the princess’s job to see to that standard. No one knew Shrykos like Maetilda. Almost immediately, the princess’s heart was set. There would be no other way to spend her afternoon. Tunnels that sprawled beneath the ground could lead her there discreetly. Or she could travel by horse and carriage. As the princess weighed her options, Ser Wyllam made his way over to them in order to relieve Ser Eddrin of his duties. They smiled and nodded to each other like old brothers. 

“Mi’lady has been feeling adventurous today. Good luck!” The younger knight teased.

The older knight chuckled, “Our princess likes to keep us young!”

“Young knees and full pockets.” Eddrin joked.

“To think it was love for my mother that brought you into my service!” Maetilda gasped teasingly.

“It was,” the Tollet nodded with a smirk, “And it’s the money and the laps through castles that’s kept us.”

“You are feeling quite funny today!” The princess placed her hands on her hips as she returned a smug smile.

“Ser Eddrin, watch your tongue.”

“No,” The princess snapped, “His jokes are fine.”

“Do they not reveal his true feelings?” Ser Wyllam argued.

“Do you discredit me?” She challenged.

“Of course not, princess.”

“Then we shall allow Ser Eddrin to have his jokes, and I shall punish him when he has done something worth punishment.”

The younger knight gave the older one verbal directions as the three began to pace in the same path the princess and her betrothed had taken to welcome her sisters and their grandmother to the castle. Ser Eddrin excused himself soon after. Ser Wyllam and the princess continued on their way in a tense silence. The knight had been red faced ever since she had corrected him. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he glanced about with his head on a swivel. Strange feelings churned within her stomach as she thought about how Ser Eddrin did not trust him to not betray her to her father. Ser Wyllam had been quick to defend her, quick to attempt to knock her fellow knight down a peg. Perhaps too quick. And as quick as his mouth was, his pace was slower that day. While he led the way, he lagged behind. The princess kept her own strides smaller in order to not overwhelm him as they walked in silence down an exterior corridor lined with arches and columns. She studied the breathtaking architecture as they passed.

Without Ser Eddrin, it was harder to keep distracted. The Coldwater knight was no help in that regard. Instead, she had no choice but to take in the details of the tiles on the wall.  Otherwise, she would go mad before she made it down the corridor. As she passed the stones, she tried to picture those who had built it. She tried to picture the attention to detail and the painstaking work. The sweat on their brows and determination in their eyes. She wondered if someone — or many someones — had dedicated their entire lives to building the keep and its walls. If it had taken more than a generation to build the Dragon Pit, certainly the Red Keep would have been the same. Masterfully built to house her family for generations to come. To stand until the world, itself, opened up and swallowed the great castle whole. She couldn’t help but wonder how her own castle compared. If the walls held the same intricacies and mastery of craft. If the grounds were anywhere near as expansive. She knew that if Shrykos were near, they would have already flown off to go see for themselves. They would have left together as soon as her betrothal was announced. Perhaps they would have never come back. Depending on how her people received her, of course. 

A flash of silver and black springing out from behind a column pulled her out of her ruminations. But despite his abruptness, he smiled sweetly, “Good day, princess.”

“Good day, Prince Aemond,” She avoided looking at his face.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. I never felt ill.”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.”

“You are not very good at lying.”

“You think that will make me tell you?”

“What has made you so upset with me?”

“Do not pretend like you do not know.”

“You cannot still be angry for that, can you?”

“I can, and I am. For that and much more.”

“Then why do you not tell me?”

“Because I cannot.”

“How can I fix anything if you do not tell me what is wrong?”

“Figure it out. Or ask Helaena.”

“Will you please at least tell me where you are going?”

The princess sighed as she finally conceded, “The Dragonpit.”

A devious look, filled with plots and pride, smeared across his features. His back straightened as his interest piqued. He turned so that he stood next to her and stuck his arm out for her to grab. Recoiling away from him, she feared she had said too much.

“May I join you?”

“I fear you shall follow me, even if I say no.”

He laughed, “You might as well compare me to a fly.”

“More like a vulture.”

“That’s a bit more morbid,” He frowned.

“But far more accurate.”

Nonetheless, the princess hesitantly took her betrothed’s arm and they continued walking in the direction of the training yards. Under her fingers, she could feel his arm tighten ever so slightly. Holding her to him as if she would run away at any second, which she very well might have. Their first steps were taken in silence. Ser Wyllam loudly followed behind them. It was a wonder how not one of her knights could be quiet.

“I apologize for my mother and myself yesterday. We have not been as sensitive as we should.”

“I have been nasty.” The princess replied softly, “I have not acted like the wife that you should want.”

“I have already forgiven you. I am willing to forget.”

“But I cannot forgive. I cannot forget.”

“Why?”

“Because you and your mother and your grandfather, the whole lot of you,” She seethed before stopping herself.

“What is it that we have done? What is it that you hold above my head?”

“I will not smile as you take what belongs to my mother. What belongs to me. What belongs to my family. It is not yours to take.”

“Listen to me, ñuha dōna, I am not marrying you for your castle. I do not know how else I may prove it to you.” (my sweet)

“Never step foot on my castle grounds.”

He stopped and turned to me. He was silent, mouth firmly shut, as his eye scanned my face four times over. After a long pause, he finally nodded, “Alright. I shall never step foot in Runestone. It’s yours.”

“Truly?” She gasped incredulously.

“I swear it. I shall live here, and you shall visit the Red Keep often. I will send you ravens every day. Once there are children, we can meet at the Gates of the Moon. Less of a distance for the little ones. I’ll take our sons hunting and our daughters riding. We’ll decide together who they marry.”

His words made her heart flutter, yet her mind continued to scream ‘no.’ She looked away from him, desperate to be clear of mind. But all she could picture was a future in which she ruled over Runestone and her husband stayed away out of respect. Where he refused to set foot in her castle, just because she told him to. Where he proclaimed her birthright to be hers, and only hers. The smile on her face was subconscious, but radiant and large, “I would like that very much.”

“Besides, you shall have to visit Helaena too. You won’t be able to hide from me.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You are such a jester.” He chuckled.

She only smirked to herself, ready to carry out the challenge just to prove a point. A light hand moved to brush against her cheek before lifting her chin to face the prince again. Never in her life had she felt so bashful. It was like he knew exactly what to do to overwhelm her senses, and disarm the little guards in her head.

“In our youth, I always told myself that I was going to be a good man, a good husband, a good father. Better than my own. I shall make good on this promise. I shall make good on all my promises.”

“Good.”

“Allow me to start by escorting you to the Dragonpit, where we shall…”

“See to the preparation of Shrykos’s nest. For when I visit, of course.”

The two walked arm-in-arm with wide smiles across their faces. Like two children becoming friends for the first time. Their strides synced without them even looking down. The two did not notice the servants who passed by and whispered. Not a single one of them. They stared into each other’s eyes only briefly glancing forward to watch for a clear path.

“I am excited for us to finally ride together. The two oldest dragons left in the world will be quite the spectacle.” Aemond spoke proudly.

“Perhaps it is a good thing we both do not live at Runestone. The townspeople would starve trying to keep both our dragons fed.” Maetilda pointed out.

Aemond nodded and laughed, “You are right. A disaster for the rations.”

“When I see what the funds look like, perhaps I shall build you a tower to stay in. A hidden one some distance away from my keep. But you shall have to fly elsewhere to feed Vhagar. I have seen how much that lady eats.” She thought aloud.

“I would help fund such a tower.” He nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s settled then, you’ll pay for it.” She laughed, to which he only shrugged.

“You shall make a very fine leader.” He smirked, “You are already a skilled diplomat.”

“Do not ever forget.” She retorted.

“You are not someone that can easily slip my mind, princess.”

The giggle that left her was unlike any she had ever emitted. It was almost shameful, “Good.”

He paused for a moment before he spoke again, “If our children are nearly half as clever as you, I’ll be doomed.”

His words felt foreign, setting off all sorts of distress signals in her head. He spoke so casually of a future she had not thought she would have. Ever. She thought it was impossible. That such a future would take a miracle from the gods.

“Our children shall be raised in the Vale. May all seven kingdoms beware.”

Aemond let out the most excited laugh she had ever heard. There was practically a skip in his step. The princess bit her lip to keep back any more shameful giggles. In that moment, he reminded her of the boy she knew in her youth. The one she would only see from time to time on her occasional visits to the castle, who would always end up attached to her and Helaena as if he were their shadow. She had never been more excited for her future. While she was not paying attention, he placed a lingering kiss on her temple. It nearly caused her to trip. Just as she had when they had danced together the other evening.

“They’ll write about our family in all the history books. Perhaps we shall even be dedicated our own.” He smiled, “A chapter for each of us.”

“The Dragons of the Vale.” 

“Yes, a perfect title.” Another lingering peck in the same place punctuated his sentence, as if her knight was not walking right behind them.

“You are shameless.” She laughed.

“I am elated. I have never been so happy.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

Maetilda laid her head against his arm in place of a hug. He had practically swept her off her feet with a single conversation. She did not question it. Not for a single moment. Together, they descended the stairs into the training yard. The same steps she had taken with her brothers only six days ago. Just as before, the steps were narrow, barely wide enough for one person. But Aemond held his betrothed tight, placing her body on the inside as he took the outer edge. His frame was almost like a shield, blocking both the breeze and the direct sunlight. His presence was such a small luxury, but it felt utterly priceless. She knew immediately that she would miss it the next time she went without it. Her knights never walked close enough to do the same. Her brothers never troubled themselves, saving such attention for ladies they actually fancied. And when her father walked next to her… well. Casting a glance over the yard, it was almost ironic how she immediately spotted said two brothers sparring in a corner together while her sisters watched. They were engrossed in their match. Using real swords and shields, not sparring ones. Jacaerys had the clear upperhand. Aemond’s entire body tensed as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked up to find that he, too, had spotted the party. Just as the princess was putting the pieces together in her brain, the prince had already started bee-lining in the direction of the gates. Clearly determined to make it to their destination unnoticed. But of course, Maetilda’s sisters could not let that happen.

“Til! Where do you think you’re going? Maetilda!” Baela teasingly called after them.

The pair froze, the knight behind them halting too. The last thing the princess wanted was for her siblings to ruin their moment. Or worse. It also seemed that Aemond preferred to avoid them too. A reasonable reaction considering dinner the other night. But the twins had stayed out of the fighting. They did nothing but encourage her to find a good husband. Rhaena had even encouraged Aemond’s flirting just the other day. At least with the twins, there was nothing to fear. But Baela was on the fence. Luke and Jace were another story.

The eldest sister hesitated, “Nowhere.”

Aemond snickered as quietly as he possibly could, but the older twin caught on anyway. Baela smirked, “You too are up to something. I can tell.”

“That’s quite the accusation.” The princess crossed her arms.

“Should you not have a chaperone?” Baela argued smugly, swaying backwards and forwards in mock innocence.

“Would that mean we need one as well?” Rhaena pointed out as she caught up to them.

“Certainly!” Maetilda gasped in mock horror, “Where are your chaperones, sisters? What of your honor?!”

“Funny of you to bring up honor, sister. Your accomplice looks rather smug.” Baela crossed her arms too.

“What sort of insinuation is that?” The eldest gasped genuinely.

“Whatever it needs to be.” The older twin nearly boasted.

“You cannot avoid the question, Til. You have been caught.” Rhaena grinned more sweetly, but she was just as visibly hungry for gossip, “Where are you going?”

“I had only ran into Princess Maetilda in the lower courtyard and asked to accompany her.” Aemond butted in, “Took quite a bit of convincing, actually.”

The corner of Baela’s lip tilted upward. Proud of herself before she had even opened her mouth, “Did you really ask her? Or did you send your knight to ask her instead?”

Snorts and giggles filled the air as the twins fell into stitches. Maetilda’s jaw practically hit the ground as she turned to look at her red faced betrothed. She could feel his arm flex beneath her hand as she remained attached to him. The air felt uncomfortably heavy. Heavier than just humidity. Thick with unresolved tension. The older twin had only meant to tease, but her jokes were hitting far too close to home. Maetilda knew instinctively that she would be the only one to fix it, but was clueless as to how. They already hated each other. Baela said herself that she would never forgive him for claiming Vhagar. That entire night had burned so many bridges. But it was Aemond and Maetilda’s marriage that was supposed to rebuild them, if the King’s decree was to be honored. 

“Baela!” The princess finally scolded.

“S’alright. I am sure your sister is quite tired from watching her intended play sticks.” Aemond chided.

“Aemond!”

“Play sticks!” Baela exclaimed incredulously.

“I am sure with practice he shall be ready for the lists eventually.” He laughed.

“My intended—“ Baela started to sneer.

“What about me?” Jacaerys made his presence known as he approached, Lucerys flanking his side.

“Sticks or no sticks! Jace shall inherit far more than Aemond ever will.” Baela spat.

“The whole Seven Kingdoms!” Luke proudly clarified.

“And yet, I swing a sharper sword and claim a bigger dragon.” Aemond gloated nonchalantly, “How shall you defend your holdings, nephew?”

“You stole her! You stole Vhagar.” Baela corrected, “Don’t lie!”

“Baela, put it to rest!” Maetilda tried.

“One cannot simply steal a dragon,” Aemond barked, “Get that through your thick head.”

“Aemond!” Maetilda gasped.

“You will not talk to her like that.” Jacaerys growled.

“Then mind how your sheep-biting scut speaks!” Aemond spat.

“She is not a dog! I will not muzzle her. Do you question my lady’s virtue?” Jace snapped.

“Clearly after dinner the other evening, it is you that needs muzzling.” Luke added.

“I question nothing of the sort,” Aemond pivoted to stare at the younger Velaryon, “However I do question, why your ladies must suffer.”

“Suffer?” Rhaena searched for clarification.

“To be stuck at the beck and call of two soft bellied cowards until death, I could not imagine a worse fate.”

Luke crossed his arms with pride, “Call us what you wish. Closer to the throne than you’ll ever be.”

“It is Prince Aemond who is the coward.” Baela glared at him like she wanted to spit fire, “He is the one who hides his face.”

The princess stood with her jaw wide open, completely powerless to stop anything. The silver haired prince turned to the older twin, “I see that grandmother of yours has failed to teach you basic decency. There won’t be any kingdom for your husband to inherit with your mouth at his side.”

“I know jealousy when I see it. What do you have to your name, Aemond?” Jace reversed his tactic.

“Don’t they call you One Eye now?” Luke jabbed.

“Don’t they call you bastard?” 

The training yard moved in slow motion as the royal bunch acted all at once. Jace and Luke sprung toward their uncle, fists first. Aemond pushed Maetilda behind him, shielding her from any stray swings. Baela came around the side and got her own shoves in. Rhaena tried in vain to grab at her older sister’s dress, her betrothed’s arm, crying for the heir to stop. Punches, claws, and kicks. The brothers ganged up on their uncle who stood his ground as long as possible before Baela launched a sneak attack from the other side. Ser Wyllam immediately bolted, heading straight in the direction of more guards. Blinking rapidly, it took the princess a few moments to sync up with the world around her again. Her eyes zipped between each of their faces. The three boys were close to the ground as they flailed and swung. Ready to pounce again, Baela crouched to gain momentum. She was aimed directly at Aemond’s back. Maetilda’s feet moved of their own accord as they frantically carried her straight into her younger sister, effectively tackling the future heir’s betrothed. Baela did not hesitate to start yanking at her older sister’s hair, trying to pull the princess off by force. The girls rolled in the dirt, soiling their dresses, until they collided with legs. 

Bodies toppled over bodies. Grunts and yelps and growls. Rhaena’s voice of opposition was a distant buzz. A knee collided with the princess’s head as she used all of her strength to pin Baela down. Fingernails scratched like cat claws, stinging all the same. Both girls tried not to flinch so as to not let the other gain any more of an upperhand. When Maetilda stared down into the older twin’s eyes, all she could see was blind rage. A completely unrecognizable look, one never before scrunched onto her face. The princess did not want to hurt her, but she did not know how to stop her, how to subdue her. Frustrated tears threatened to blur Maetilda’s vision in the struggle. Fighting to lasso Baela’s wrists into her hold, the princess couldn’t seem to feel her hands. They instinctively snapped, jerked, tightened, and more to meet each of the younger’s attempts at freedom.

“You shall never hear me silent! And you shall never see a day of peace! I shall rot in each of the seven hells before you ever! EVER! breathe a sigh of relief!” Baela bent over backwards to shoot daggers at Aemond with her eyes, “That is a promise!”

“If I must lose an eye, what allows you to keep your tongue?!”

CRACK. Maetilda’s head flicked sideways to see nothing but blood. Jacaerys’s hands went to cradle his nose as Luke and Aemond only continued their brawl. Except the younger was much too small to take his uncle on by himself and was quickly thrown to the ground. Jacaerys tackled Aemond to keep him off of his brother. They rolled similarly to the sisters and were soon oblique to each other. Blood continued to pour out of Jace’s nose and splattered everywhere. While Maetilda was distracted, Baela gained the upper hand. They rolled again until the younger sister sat on top.

“Seize them!”

Armor clanked all around them. But not that of Maetilda’s three nights. It was a smoother, lighter sound. One that could only belong to the white armor of the Kingsguard. A tighter grip weaved around the roots of her hair, clamping down before the hands of knights tried to pull the noble sisters apart by the arms. Baela did not let go.

“I don’t care what grandmother says! I won’t hear it!” The older twin bellowed resolutely.

“Baela, let go!” Rhaena cried.

“You are such a child!” Maetilda sneered.

The knights began to pull harder, but Baela’s grip did not budge. She was a dragon rider after all. “You attacked me first!”

“Because you were piling onto Aemond like a dog!”

“Were you listening to the words leaving his mouth?!”

“Yes, and I heard the ones leaving yours too!”

“Who’s side are you on?”

With one final yank, two knights holding onto each girl, Prince Daemon’s daughters were successfully pulled apart. The usual cascading waves and curls had shifted to the left in a mess of tangles and frizz. The formerly fine combed front bumped up unevenly. The various braids and smaller details lost in the rats’ nest. Plucking loose strands of silver honey hair out from in between her fingers, Baela upturned her nose as she turned her back and marched her way over to Jacaerys. Blood continued to drip steadily out of his nose. The cartilage in his bridge looked broken. He suddenly looked older and angrier, more like a man. The same scarlet red that poured out of his nostrils had puddled everywhere. That which was smeared across his face had already started to dry, clumping hard atop his skin. Lowering their heads so as to not be heard, Baela and Jace whispered to each other. Rushed, impassioned whispers. Spit flying from their mouths despite the lack of volume. Just as quickly as they started, they stopped.

Almost completely in unison, all four of Maetilda’s siblings turned to look at her. Disgust, betrayal, confusion, hurt, shock. A different emotional concoction on each face. She felt her heart shatter, heat rising in her cheeks. When she went to take a step toward them, they all stepped back. Even Rhaena, who lightly shook her head. What had she done? For the gods’ sake, what had she done?

A/N: another apology for taking so long with this chapter! thank you for sticking with me as i write this. writing is a big passion of mine, and i’m hoping that if i can finish a fanfiction then i can one-day write a novel! maybe even a series! i’ve tried to write this here lady *slaps hood* with all sorts of parallels and shit. i think this chapter slaps you on the face with that the most. constructive criticism is always welcomed!

also, let me know if you still want tagged!! i wasn’t sure since it had been so long and don’t want to be annoying.

xoxo messy

[sickficideas]

okay, recently this idea has been infecting my brain, idk where else to put it, here we are :D

y’know how Kenji’s ability requires him to be hungry? and how not eating for long periods of time can give you a head rush?

and y’know how fevers can do the same thing? yeah, I got ideas w/ those

him going in to work, assuming he feels sore because his gift gives him strength.

he feels warm, maybe because he’s out on field duty?

he feels tired, but like he said, it’s sunny out, must be related to the heat.

his stomach hurts, but meh, he’s just hungry. probably should’ve eaten dinner last night, but he was so tired, he just fell onto his bed when he got home.

he sits down at his desk and is wracked with chills, because it’s so hot out, they must have turned up the air conditioning.

he always feels dizzy getting up from his desk, so this time is no different. even if as the hours go on, the dizziness gets worse.

his coworkers keep looking at him funny, but he’s used to ignoring that by now (although, it’s a little odd coming from people he knows)

the final straw is when he stands up too fast, and instead of just closing his eyes to block out the dizziness, his knees shake and he’s forced to sit down, the second change in elevation only makes his head hurt. he feels like he’s gonna pass out, and he resists from putting his head between his knees, choosing instead to tense his shoulders. it’ll go away eventually, like it always does. he heads someone say his name distantly.

meanwhile, Kunikida had been watching all day. he and Atsushi had already said something multiple times, which resulted in either a polite denial, or no response at all. he sees the exact moment Kenji falls back into his seat, and gets up immediately, shouting his name. everyone turns to them, but he doesn’t care, he just walks over to set a hand on his shoulder.

aaaaand idk what to do so imma just leave it there 👍👍👍

anyway, thoughts on the kenji hc/idea?

this is a beautiful sequence of events and description on your part, please let me know if you ever write bsd sickfics !!!

This is so cute I really do love Kenji so much he's just baby...I can totally see this happening because he's very politely stubborn lol he has a Taurus soul...the nature of his ability would definitely make him dismiss a lot of uncomfortable symptoms in general...there's an Anthology chapter about him getting a cold/fever from overworking himself and the other ADA members feeling responsible for not looking after him so I like that angle too...!! They worry about him he's their emotional support dog for real they have to make sure he's taking care of himself too 🥺

I'm thinking about Beast Kenji too because really the closest person to Kenji in any iteration of BSD is Beast Akutagawa 😭😭 Their friendship means so much to me 😭😭😭😭 I love the idea of this happening to Kenji while they're working together, and Kenji is too out of it to walk so Akutagawa carries him back😭 he's concerned because he knows exactly what not eating for a long time is like and how that can cloud your judgement when you're already unwell so he tries to look out for him more closely from that point forward🥺🥺