#too much effort for a show no one watched

[wemlygust]

The fic is here. In the comments, in response to a positive comment that called this "the best kind of crack fic," the author says, "One correction: this is a story about popular science and fairies. Please, don’t use the term “fic”. I spent way too much effort working on it."

P.S. also this is the author's pfp:

The author... truly did spend a shitload of time and effort on it, including on detailed research into the Chernobyl disaster and how reactors work, but that is not actually unusual for fanfic. That literally has nothing to do with whether it's fanfic or not. And. It's about Tinkerbell. And they posted it with the fandom tag "Disney Fairies" and the character tag "Tinkerbell". Wtf did they expect?? Such Terry Goodkind-esk, "this blatantly fantasy story is not fantasy because it's good and I refuse to acknowledge that it's built out of by-the-numbers tropes and political rants," energy. Anyway, the fic includes this video in the middle of it. Watching this will give you an accurate understanding of the fic as a whole.

Also, a quote: “Thanks,” the earthborn fairy answered without really understanding what her guest meant. “But I thought that good is just something positive and kind. It has nothing to do with energy, does it?” “It does. And I’ll show you how.” smiled Celestia. “I cooked the dinner while you were sleeping. Or rather a breakfast? Whatever. We can measure exactly how much energy this casserole contains. Then we add the amount of energy that you would need to cook it yourself, and we get the amount of good measured in joules.”

“I don’t know. Something is wrong with this reasoning,” Tink took a fork, pinched at a little piece of the dish and tasted it carefully. The casserole was delicious. Who would have thought that a guest from the far future could cook so well? Although, that was not really that much of a challenge if you had an all-knowing helper!" Tinkerbell's response there just absolutely kills me. xD

you will not guess where this ao3 summary is going

[flwrkid14]

So is I alright if I ask this?

I've seen the post where everyone wants to be Tim's favorite, might I ask if you could combine it with the 'Tim will never be anyone's favorite' and the brain dead post spin off? I think it'd be super angst angsty if the bats realize tehy unitentionally screwed up with Tim.

Oh, this is such a good ask! and now I’m going to be feral about it, thank you. Combining all of those ideas? Buckle up because this is going to get angsty.

—

Tim Drake will never be anyone’s favorite.

He’s always known it, accepted it as fact, because it’s not just about how he’s never felt like anyone’s favorite—it’s about how he’s been conditioned to believe that no one could favor him. He spent so much of his life trying to make himself useful to the people around him, because if he couldn’t be loved, he could at least be needed. If they needed him, they’d have to keep him around, right?

So that’s what Tim became. The utility knife of the Batfamily. The glue, the fixer, the one who knew how to put everything back together even if no one ever thought to ask how he was holding up.

And if that meant sacrificing pieces of himself, so what? He was never anyone’s favorite. He had no illusion that anyone would fight for him, that he’d be prioritized. The mission came first. Gotham came first. Family was a distant second, if it ranked at all.

Then there’s Danny.

Danny doesn’t come in with the expectations or baggage the rest of the Bats have. Danny doesn’t know Tim as a placeholder Robin or a second chance or a stolen birthright. He knows Tim as Tim—sharp, exhausted, himself. And Danny thinks that’s amazing.

He says it, too, without hesitation. “You’re my favorite,” he says like it’s a fact. Like Tim has always been the first name on someone’s list.

And it’s such a foreign concept to Tim that his first reaction is suspicion. He doesn’t trust it—can’t trust it—because when has anyone ever favored him? Even when Danny shows time and again that he’s not going anywhere, that his affection for Tim is unconditional, Tim’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Danny to grow tired of him, to leave, to regret his words.

But Danny doesn’t. He stays.

And that’s where it all starts to unravel for the rest of the family.

They see it—the way Danny looks at Tim like he’s the most important person in the room. The way Tim slowly starts to relax around him, shedding the defensive, brittle edges he’s always carried with them. The way Danny makes it obvious—painfully obvious—that Tim is his favorite person.

It's then that it hits them.

None of them have ever made Tim feel that way.

They start noticing the cracks they’ve left in him, the ones they never saw because they were too busy leaning on Tim to hold them together. They think back to all the times Tim had been the one to put in the effort to maintain their relationships, the way he always came through for them when they needed him, but how little they ever did for him in return.

They see the way he hesitates when Danny shows him affection—how it catches Tim off guard every time, like he’s still waiting for it to be a trap. And the Bats realize they’ve conditioned Tim to expect exactly that.

It guts them.

Cass had always known, in the quiet way she read people, that Tim didn’t feel like he belonged. She saw it in the way he held himself—guarded, distant, bracing for rejection. She’d tried, in her small, subtle ways, to show him he mattered, but watching Danny with him now, she realized she hadn’t done enough, that there was so much more she could have done for him not to feel that way. She hadn’t known how deep the hurt ran, and the guilt settled heavy in her chest.

Danny... Danny treated him differently.

Dick, who always tried to be a good brother but never saw the way Tim’s shoulders tensed under the weight of being “good enough.” Jason, who hated him for wearing the Robin colors but never noticed how much Tim blamed himself for taking them in the first place. Bruce, who thought giving Tim responsibility was enough to show he cared, but never thought to give him unconditional support. Damian, who fought Tim at every turn but never realized how much Tim already hated himself for existing in a role Damian felt should have been his.

Even Steph, and Duke—all of them thought Tim was fine because Tim made himself fine. Because Tim was the one who fixed things, and none of them stopped to ask what he needed.

It becomes almost unbearable for them to watch Danny care for Tim, because Danny makes it look so easy. He loves Tim so openly, so obviously, that it highlights every way the family failed to do the same.

And Tim? Tim doesn’t even seem to know he deserves it.

It���s the wake-up call they all desperately needed but never wanted. They don’t know how to fix it. But watching Danny and Tim together, seeing the way Tim is finally beginning to believe he’s worthy of being loved, they know one thing for certain:

They can’t undo the past.

But maybe, if they try hard enough, they can make sure Tim never feels that way again.

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x TALKACTIVE!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: this is so me.. i talk way too much so i'm lowkey just projecting myself on here. anyways, requests are open but i'm taking my time replying since i've been busy so just keep that in mind!

▸ hyun-ju is a good listener. a great one, even. she's got a big heart and soul, she's someone who is willing to listen to whatever you have to say. and she doesn't just listen, she tries to understand. which is a quality that is hard to find these days.

▸ you noticed it a bit later in your relationship. every time you talk, she listens and isn't afraid to ask questions regarding your situation or interest. she's genuinely invested in what you have to say. "oh, really? tell me more, hon."

▸ even if you just say random things or suggestions related to literally anything, she's all ears! whatever is going on in your head, every single sentence you utter, she's always nodding a long. she's probably wondering how you managed to say three sentences in a second.

▸ you tend to get very extroverted when you get comfortable. you'd ramble about anything for hours and hours, hyun-ju finds this adorable. she's definitely admiring you as you speak, your words always find a way to her heart.

▸ if you were talking about something she has no clue in, she's gonna research about it either online or in books so she could talk about it with you! even if small mistakes slip, her efforts show. and you appreciate that more than ever.

▸ "wait, you watched the movie and read the book?" — "yeah! i thought it would be nice to discuss it with you. you talked about it nonstop last week, so i figured i'd give it a look, and i must admit- you do have amazing taste."

▸ good moods mean you'd go on walks with hyun-ju and visit multiple parks at once. pointing out random birds, trees, and flower types. speaking whatever crossed your mind in specific moments.

▸ "oh look! a daisy. did you know daisies bloom in the spring like every other flower and their last bloom is in autumn? though, that's very common, um. ah! moon flowers, they only bloom one night a year." you'd giggle, "i did not know, but i do now!" hyun-ju smiles.

▸ during movies you can get very quiet. but as the movie ends, you'd ramble quicker than speed itself. "it's okay. at best. i just don't understand why the characters would do such things! i guess it is fictional, but still! does logic not exist in that universe?"

▸ same thing with books, you can read for hours in silence, but as soon as you close the book... "hyun! you must read this! not only is this one of a kind, but once you read it you can not put it down. i love it so much, it made me tear up a bit because of a character, but, um. okay, no spoilers!"

▸ hyun-ju could get really lost in your voice sometimes. you'd be talking about something silly like rocks or something, and she'd still be mesmerized. hyun-ju thinks that your voice could easily soothe her to sleep.

▸ and it's true, your voice makes her feel so safe. during conversations, she gets sudden realizations of how lucky she truly is. to be able to listen to you, in a calm setting, just the two of you.

▸ if you send her voice notes, she'd listen to it on repeat. especially when she's away or vice versa, she loves hearing your voice over and over as it gives ger comfort.

▸ "hey, hyun! i know you're really busy, and i know you only listen to my voice notes when you're done with work, so i ought to tell you about how much i love you. and how much i miss you. don't forget to tell me goodnight, or not the bed bugs might bite me."

▸ she would never think of your ongoing talks as unimportant. if you would suddenly pause and stop talking, she'd notice immediately. but hyun-ju always reassures you that it's perfectly okay.

▸ if you feel tired or off, and you just wanna be quiet for a bit, hyun-ju likes to ramble too, she does it a bit more often ever since she's met you. her voice is sleepy, her head lays near yours, your bed is cold and hyun-ju is the only source of warmth. as she traces your hands, "do you wanna know what happened earlier in the office?" you'd nod, she'd talk and only stop when you've completely fallen asleep.

▸ "and that's the end of it. goodnight, angel." she'd place a kiss on your forehead before falling asleep herself.

[markleessodalite]

What Scares Them About Love: NCT Dream

Haedcanon: what are the dreamies most scared of when it comes to falling in (or out of) love?

content: mentions of general insecurity, but nothing specific... i don't think there's anything specific to warn about here but lmk if i miss something!!

Mark:

 Mark is scared of being a fool for love. Mark likes to think of himself as a clever guy, quick on his feet, nothing and no one can get the better of him. On the other hand, though, he knows how he gets when he’s in love. Its like any finesse or composure he has flies out the window as soon as that certain someone appears. Yeah, its cute and charming, a usually cool and collected guy suddenly becoming a bumbling, rambling mess– unless a lovesick Mark lands in the hands of the wrong person. Mark knows he’d be so easy, too easy to take advantage of if he’s in love. And he’s terrified of being the fool who gets his heart played with, just because he was too dumb to notice the game.

Renjun:

Renjun is scared of not being enough. So much of his life is already under scrutiny, the very nature of his career is dependent on millions of people watching his every move, every performance, every look on his face at every second. You might think that with him being judged so often, he would become immune to it– but its different when Renjun is in love. People talk about love making you feel light and secure, safe, like nothing in the world could hurt you now. For Renjun, love just makes him remember all the things he’s insecure about, and all the ways someone might be dissatisfied with him. He’s scared of wanting to be everything for someone, but not being able to amount to anything.

Jeno:

Jeno is scared of exposing himself. He’s most comfortable when he can keep others at arm’s length, and there’s a very, very select few people in his life who actually get to see Jeno’s true self. Yes, he’s a member of one of the most popular idol groups, he performs to thousands of people on a regular basis who completely adore him, he posts a selfie that he took two seconds to snap and the comments are flooded with praise and affection. But he's in control of all of that– he knows exactly what to say and do to get the exact reaction he wants from others. When it comes to love, its an entirely different story. He knows that for a relationship to truly grow, he must show his true self to someone. And he knows that when he shows his true self, his most vulnerable insecurities and transparently naked thoughts, he loses all control over how that someone thinks of him. Jeno is so afraid of someone seeing him in such an exposed state, and deciding that they don’t like what they see.

Haechan:

 Haechan is afraid of effort. Not in the sense that he’s lazy– in fact, its the exact opposite. Haechan might just be the busiest man on the planet, and he puts an extreme amount of care and effort into everything he does. He’s constantly moving, constantly thinking, he’s not sure he even knows how to stop moving or thinking. But there’s only so far he can stretch himself without tearing apart at the seams. So really, what Haechan is afraid of is giving what little of himself he has left to somebody, and it ends up not being enough. He doesn’t have enough time, enough focus, enough energy to really give to someone. His biggest fear about love is losing it altogether because the effort he puts in just isn’t enough.

Jaemin:

Nothing about love scares Jaemin. The only thing he’s afraid of is seeing his love story end. Jaemin is a romantic at heart, he loves the very idea of love, and love truly means something very special and important to him. So, he doesn’t give his love easily to just anybody. He’s picky, because to him, his love story is meant to be the only love story he’ll experience, and it’s supposed to last until the end of time. He’s built to love someone until his last breath; he is not built to suffer through love fading, to go through a break up with someone he thought he’d be with forever, to watch everything he hoped and worked for dissolve into dust. When Jaemin’s incredibly high standards prevent him from finding someone, its not because he has an aversion to love. Jaemin is just terrified of what happens when love ceases to exist.

Chenle:

Chenle is afraid of backing down. Chenle is a prideful man, confident and sure. So confident and sure that he’s sometimes uncompromising, and a successful relationship is all about compromise. Chenle is perfectly aware of how important compromise is, yet there’s just something in him that refuses to let go, refuses to give up, refuses to compromise when he knows that he’s in the right. In a way, Chenle knows that a potential roadblock on his journey to love is his tendency to sabotage himself. He’s not just afraid of conceding defeat, he’s afraid that his stubbornness will be the death of his love.

Jisung:

Jisung is afraid of what love might mean for him. Jisung is still so young. Not to mention with how busy he is, how much stuff he has going on in every aspect of his life, how he’s still trying to fit into his own skin and figure out who he is… he just knows that if he were to fall in love at this stage in his life, it wouldn’t last. It would result in some sort of heartbreak that would change him in some way, and Jisung is terrified of what that change could be. He doesn’t want to become someone hardened and bitter, he doesn’t want to be heartbroken and sad all the time. He’s so scared of feeling all the emotions that come with love and the end of it, that for him, it seems better to avoid it altogether.

[enemiestolovershoe]

Backstage Comfort

Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: Noah takes care of reader while being on her period. Matt and Folio wouldn’t be Matt and Folio when they wouldn’t tease Noah.

Words: 798

Warnings: Period and Cramps, Teasing

A/N: This was requested but I somehow deleted the request. I wrote another version of this with just reader and Noah. Click here.

The backstage area of the venue buzzed with pre-show energy. The hum of amplifiers being tested, the shuffle of crew members setting up, and the distant roar of an excited crowd all blended into a chaotic symphony. Normally, you thrived in this environment, feeding off the adrenaline of watching Noah and the rest of Bad Omens prepare for another killer performance. But today, you weren’t feeling quite as enthusiastic.

You sat curled up on a couch in the corner of the green room, clutching a small pillow to your stomach. The ache in your abdomen hadn’t eased all day, and no amount of ibuprofen or deep breathing seemed to help.

Noah walked in from the hallway, dressed in his signature all-black outfit. His dark eyes scanned the room, immediately landing on you. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with concern as he crossed the room in a few long strides. “You okay?”

You managed a weak smile. “Just cramps. I’ll be fine.”

Noah frowned, crouching in front of you so he could meet your eyes. “You don’t look fine.”

“It’s just one of those days,” you admitted. “Don’t worry about me. You have a show to get ready for.”

“Yeah, well, you’re more important than the show,” he said simply, his brow furrowed. “What do you need? Food? Tea? Heating pad?”

Your heart melted a little at how quickly he shifted into caretaker mode. “I don’t think they have a heating pad in the green room,” you said with a small laugh.

“Then I’ll improvise.” He stood up, glancing around the room.

At that moment, Matt walked in, clipboard in hand and his headset slightly askew. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and teasing. “Why’s Noah looking like a guy on a mission?”

“She’s got cramps,” Noah said without missing a beat, turning to Matt. “Do we have anything warm she can use? Like a towel or something?”

Matt’s mouth quirked into a smirk. “Look at you, Dr. Caregiver. You thinking of adding ‘period expert’ to your résumé?”

Noah shot him a flat look. “Are you going to help, or are you just here to make jokes?”

“Both,” Matt replied, his grin widening. “But mostly jokes.” He turned to you, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You sure you’re okay? He’s not being too overbearing, is he?”

You smiled despite the ache in your stomach. “No, he’s perfect.”

“Perfectly whipped,” Matt muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from Noah.

Folio wandered in next, a drumstick twirling lazily between his fingers. “What’s going on? Why’s Noah looking like someone kicked his puppy?”

“He’s trying to MacGyver a heating pad,” Matt explained, clearly enjoying himself.

Folio raised an eyebrow. “So, full boyfriend mode, huh? Let me guess—he’s already planning a tea ceremony and a hot towel spa experience for you.”

You chuckled at their antics while Noah groaned. “You two are so helpful,” he said dryly, heading out of the room.

“Always,” Matt called after him, winking at you.

When Noah returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a warm towel and a bottle of water. He placed the towel gently over your stomach, adjusting it with care. “Better?” he asked, sitting beside you.

“Much better,” you said softly, leaning into him.

“Need anything else? Tea? Snacks? Ice cream?”

“You’ve already done enough,” you replied, touched by his efforts.

“Too bad. I’m not stopping.”

Matt, who had taken up residence on the couch across from you, grinned. “You’re really setting the bar here, man. How’re the rest of us supposed to compete with this level of dedication?”

“You’re not,” Noah replied without missing a beat.

Folio snorted. “Okay, but if she starts expecting this every time, we’re blaming you for creating unrealistic standards.”

Noah smirked. “Good. You should all take notes.”

Despite their teasing, Matt and Folio made themselves useful, making sure the crew left you alone and bringing over a blanket they found in the equipment closet. Between Noah’s warmth and their lighthearted banter, the ache in your stomach seemed just a little easier to bear.

When it was finally time for the show, you felt well enough to join the crew at the side of the stage. Matt gave you an exaggerated thumbs-up as you took your spot, while Folio leaned over and muttered, “Let us know if Nurse Noah slacks off.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but his arm slipped protectively around your waist as he glanced down. “You good?” he asked quietly.

“Perfect,” you said, smiling up at him.

And as the lights dimmed and the first chords rang out, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Noah, but for the ridiculous, wonderful team around you who made even the worst days bearable.

Taglist: @courta13

[cokoweee]

COKO. Dude. This latest update- Holy MONKEY FEATHERS.

Let’s begin cause there’s a LOT TO COVER HEHEHEH~

Firstly

LOOK AT THIS MAN’S EXPRESSION. Just- FRIGGIN LOOK AT IT. He’s blushing, he’s tense, he’s confused and flattered and weirded out, and happy- This man don’t know what emotions are and he just got hit by a truck full of them.

And AGAIN- KENDRA IS COMPLETELY INEBRIATED- She will most likely not even REMEMBER THIS MOMENT- Will Donnie tell her? Will this be a hilarious story that causes an argument later down the lines in their marriage?

WHO KNOWS. 🤷‍♀️ And it DOESN’T END THERE-

Not ONLY is Donnie flying through the five stages of grief like a boss level mini game- but Kendra, even in her drunken state, noticed that Donnie had that dumb makeup on him to cover up his markings for the party. And she just- gently- caresses his cheek to wipe it off.

Yeah, Donnie’s gonna die from either too much happiness or being way too flustered. Either way-

Awwwwwwwwww 💜

NEXT.

Despite being completely paralyzed in fear love, Donnie’s gaze quickly makes its way to where Big Mama and Frida are. And what does he see that gives him this horrified of an expression?

OH- SHEEEELLLLLL NO.

So, like the reasonable turtle mutant Donnie is, he gingerly picks up Kendra and leaves the party.

Also can we just study this anatomy for a second cause GUYS- as an artist myself this kind of posing and proportions is NOT EASY TO DO. So-

👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

WELL DONE, COKO!!!!!

Ok, so after they make their way back to their room, Donnie plops Kendra into bed. We’ve seen this before- he’s never gentle, literally throwing her and it’s absolutely hilariou-

… Expectation SUBVERSION- the SWEETEST I’ve ever seen. 🥹 Donnie’s being so gentle with her what the HECK DJFUJWVXMISUDHWBSUW I adore these two- they love each other so much- caring for each other despite their qualms and history- AAAAAA ITS SO GOOOOOOD!!!

And now that Kendra is safe and away from Big Mamas prying eyes, Donnie has time to ABSOLUTELY FREAK OUT.

THIS DUDE went from feeling nothing to feeling EVERYTHING. And we get to watch and die laughing at his expense~ *WHEEEEEEZE*

This dude is totally broken HAAAA

Alright- with emotions and feelings and imagination WAY TOO HIGH, Donnie tries to distract himself.

The comedy in this chapter is just top tier~ I was at work when I read it the first time, and I broke out laughing and wheezing. (So grateful I work alone HA)

And just when Donnie thinks he’s in the clear-

*Chaos Gremlin chortling sounds* Coko, you absolute GENIUS- HAHAHAHA- I love that you simply allow the audience to imagine what Donnie saw- No one needs to outright say it, we all just know. And it’s utterly hilarious.

Donnie’s never gonna recover from that brain poof- You can just see all of his brain cells and bad boy image DISSOLVE in an instant at such a sight. 🤣 HIS HAIR EVEN CURLED UP- HIS EYES ARE BUGGING OUT- HAHAHA THIS DUDE’S brain went from dead to running a marathon in a MILLISECOND.

Alright, I think this has gotten long enough, so I’ll stop there. 😅 Amazing work, Coko!!! I am VERY excited to see what happens next!

~ Melissa

AUUUGGHHH ill never tire of these asks pointing out the little things cause yall almost always get like 80% of the lil things i slap in updates

THANKS FOR SEEING MY EFFORT IN THAT PANEL! THAT ANATOMY WAS A BITCH.

While sketching the update I may have been watching some goofy shows and movies so influence from those was high. Figuring out ways to show without showing what was going on took longer than expected but HEY! YALL GOT THE IDEA SO SWAG.

If my shoulder stops hurting I might have the next update by morning. Im gettin a lil too excited for what’s next. Already picked an emoji for the next chapter thing

[cybershock24601]

I'm sure someone else has already thought of this but I'm so convinced that modern Illario would be one those guys that make those thirst trap cooking videos - you know the ones - and starts building a decent following of horny older women (like Zara Renata) only for his fame to be completely eclipsed by some poorly shot and poorly edited video Rook posted of Lucanis cooking going insanely viral out of nowhere.

The video is shot in Rook's kitchen and it's Lucanis from the chin down, sleeves rolled up, and in a goofy apron (because Rook only owns goofy aprons) explaining in his nice soothing voice how to cook some dish and it's got some stupid caption like "when your man is teaching you how to cook so you don't die of malnutrition😍" that was intended just for their friends to see because it's clearly a silly candid video.

Probably no one would have seen it if there weren't some sort of algorithm containment breach that likely came from Ma Harding who wants to know what Lucanis is cooking. Rook answers and then just ignores their phone because they're still getting their cooking lesson and need to pay attention. Rook also doesn't keep notifications on or use social media much because they don't even notice the short little video they posted blowing up out of nowhere where half the comments are about how good the food looks and the other half about how good Lucanis looks.

Illario notices though and absolutely loses it because how come some stupid video of his cousin cooking doing so much better then the many videos Illario puts a ton of time and effort into making?! Illario starts giving Lucanis the cold shoulder and Lucanis is just so confused about what Illario's problem is this time and corners him because he's being ridiculous and Illario just goes "You know exactly what this about" and Lucanis who really, really doesn't know replies "Illario I have no idea what you're talking about" and Illario just shows him the video and Lucanis has no idea why he is so upset until he sees just how many likes and comments on the silly little video Rook took of him the other day. Lucanis is honestly a little disturbed by just how horny the comments are while Illario is telling Lucanis that he is not going to upstage him this time, just wait Lucanis, Illario is going to prove he's the better cooking content creator and dramatically walks away.

At the very least this is explaining those weird comments Taash and Harding had been making for the past week. Lucanis texts Rook about the video after this and Rook is super surprised that so many people had seen it and wants to know if they should take it down but its the internet so it's too late for that. Rook does get super curious about what Illario meant about making his own cooking videos and tracks down his account and almost dies of cringe when they start watching them. Those videos are definitely getting sent to the group chat where everyone proceeds to start roasting Illario over them and Lucanis is left desperately hoping he gets some sudden memory loss because he really wishes he had never seen his cousin try so desperately hard to be sexy or molest food like that.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — unspoken !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᯓ★

pairings﹕rin itoshi x gn!reader

contents﹕one shot, fluff, academic rivals to friends to ???, wc: 1257, proofread

the steady hum of bright lights filled the lecture hall, a faint undercurrent to the low chatter of students settling into their seats. you flipped through your notebook, barely glancing at the professor as he outlined the term’s schedule. your attention was elsewhere, fixed on the boy sitting three rows behind you, rin itoshi.

you hated the way he carried himself, so calm and detached, like the world revolved around his perfectly measured strides and unbreakable confidence. and yet, every glance his way was a betrayal of the very dislike you clung to.

“it’s always him,” you muttered under your breath, staring at the list of rankings on your phone. of course, there he was again - top of the class, a position he had claimed since the first semester. your name followed closely behind, second place. always second.

as if on cue, rin’s gaze flicked up. those sharp teal eyes locked onto yours for a brief moment, and you felt your stomach twist. you quickly looked away, heat creeping up your neck. it was maddening how someone so infuriating could leave you feeling like this - off-balance, exposed.

by the time you reached the library that afternoon, your frustration had bubbled into determination. if you wanted to beat rin itoshi, you needed to outwork him. and if there was one thing you knew, it was that effort always triumphed over talent.

you spread your notes across the table, highlighting passages in your textbook with mechanical precision. hours passed, and the sky outside darkened to a soft navy. you were deep in focus when you felt it, a presence. familiar. unmistakable.

“you’re here late,” rin said, his voice low but distinct.

you looked up, meeting his impassive stare. he stood across the table, hands in his pockets, a textbook tucked under one arm.

“so are you,” you replied, forcing nonchalance into your tone. “what do you want?”

he shrugged, his expression unreadable. “this table has the best lighting.”

“there are other tables.”

“but this one’s the best,” he said simply, sitting down across from you without waiting for permission.

you scowled, shifting your focus back to your notes. his presence was intimidating, but you refused to let him see how much it rattled you. the two of you worked in silence, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. every so often, you caught him glancing your way, and each time, your heart betrayed you with a quickened beat.

the rivalry between you and rin was silent yet persistant. every assignment, every exam, every project; it was a silent battle for supremacy. and yet, there were moments that blurred the lines between competition and something else entirely.

like the time you caught him watching you in class, his expression difficult to read but his gaze intense. or the fleeting conversations that felt heavier than they should, words tinged with a meaning neither of you dared to acknowledge.

it wasn’t hatred, but it wasn’t friendship either. it was something in between, something risky and fragile, like a thread stretched too thin.

the turning point came when the professor announced the midterm project.

“you’ll be working in pairs,” he said, scrolling through a list on his tablet. “i've already assigned partners to ensure a balanced workload.”

your stomach dropped as the names were read aloud.

“y/n l/n and rin itoshi.”

the room spun. of all the people, why him?

you risked a glance at rin, whose expression remained confident. if he was annoyed by the pairing, he didn’t show it.

“guess we’re stuck together,” he said after class, falling into step beside you.

“don’t make it sound like a death sentence,” you retorted, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

he smirked. “i’ll try to survive.”

the first meeting was awkward, to say the least. you met at the library, your usual spot by the windows now shared territory. the air was awkward with unspoken rules - boundaries neither of you dared to cross.

“let’s just divide the work,” you said, pulling out your laptop. “i’ll handle the research, and you can focus on the presentation.”

“why not the other way around?” rin asked, arching an eyebrow.

“because i said so,” you snapped.

he leaned back in his chair, studying you with that annoying calm expression. “fine. but don’t complain if my part overshadows yours.”

you glared at him, your pulse quickening. “don’t underestimate me, Itoshi.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing.

as the days passed, the initial tension began to shift. you fell into a rhythm, your conversations less antagonistic and more collaborative. but the underlying current of competition remained, fueling your mutual drive.

one night, as you worked late in the library, rin surprised you with a rare moment of vulnerability.

“you’re always so focused,” he said, breaking the silence. “it’s impressive.”

you looked up, startled by the compliment. “thanks?”

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the table. “i mean it. you push me to be better.”

for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. the weight of his words hung in the air, a fragile truth neither of you had acknowledged before.

“you do the same for me,” you admitted quietly.

his eyes met yours, and in that moment, something shifted. the rivalry, the tension, the unspoken yearning - it all formed into something unquestionable.

the night before the project deadline, you found yourselves in the library once again. the work was done, but neither of you made a move to leave. instead, you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the past weeks settling between you.

“do you ever wonder why we’re like this?” rin asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness.

“like what?” you asked, though you knew exactly what he meant.

“this constant thing between us,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “rivalry. tension. whatever you want to call it.”

you looked down at your hands, your chest tightening. “maybe because we’re too similar.”

he shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “no. it’s because you’re different.”

your breath caught, and you risked a glance at him. his beautiful eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name.

“you make me want to be better,” he said quietly. “not just as a student. as a person.”

the vulnerability in his voice was shocking, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“rin,” you began, your voice trembling.

but he shook his head, cutting you off. “you don’t have to say anything. i just needed you to know.”

the silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of unspoken feelings. and yet, in that silence, there was a sense of understanding, a shared truth neither of you could deny.

when the project presentation ended the next day, your professor praised your work, calling it the best in the class. but as you stood beside rin, the usual rush of victory felt different. this time, it wasn’t about beating him. it was about standing with him.

as the class filed out, rin caught your arm, his touch sending a jolt through you.

“walk with me,” he said, his voice low.

you nodded, your heart pounding as the two of you stepped into the crisp afternoon air. the campus was quiet, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows on the ground.

“what happens now?” you asked, breaking the silence.

he glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “i don’t know. but i’d like to figure it out.”

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Plastic Surgery

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✯ pairing:  Franco Colapito x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: plastic surgery mentioned✯

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Dating someone so public and admired was definitely an experience. There was a reason she wanted to keep it private, but the media found out much earlier than they had planned. One day, as he was picking her up from college, someone snapped a photo, and just like that, everyone knew.

The scrutiny was as brutal as she had expected—people dissecting every piece of information they could find online. Perhaps more hurtful, though, were the comments about her appearance. Any perceived flaw was pointed out by countless strangers. Of course, not every comment was critical, but who pays attention to the kind ones anyway?

That only aggravated her already fragile self-esteem, leaving her even more self-conscious about her appearance. She began obsessively refining her makeup, perfecting her hair, and scrutinizing every detail of her looks. But no matter how much effort she put into superficial improvements, it never felt like enough—enough to stop the criticism, enough to silence the noise.

Inevitably, her thoughts turned to a single conclusion: the only reasonable path was cosmetic surgery, wasn’t it?

Franco drove down the road with ease, the afternoon sun painting golden streaks across the dashboard. She sat beside him, phone in hand, her thumb scrolling incessantly. Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed together in that way that meant she was deep in thought—or trouble.

He glanced over as they slowed for a red light, his curiosity piqued. “You know,” he teased, his accent wrapping around the words, “you look way too serious for someone who just got out of class. What’s going on, amor?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, a little too quickly, tilting her phone away from him like a guilty teenager.

Franco smirked, his instincts kicking in. “Oh, come on. ‘Nothing’ with that face? Let me see,” he teased, leaning slightly to sneak a look.

“Franco, watch the road!” she protested, locking her phone and shoving it into her lap, but not before he caught a glimpse of the open webpage.

His smile faltered as the word “cosmetic surgery” registered. His playful demeanor softened, replaced by quiet concern. At the next stoplight, he turned to her, his voice gentle. “Amor... what’s that about?”

“It’s nothing,” she repeated, her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Really?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Because it looked a lot like ‘I think I need surgery dot com.’”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her fingers twisting in her lap.

Franco’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he let out a small sigh. “Is this about the comments?”

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

“Dios mío,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Amor, why do you even read that stuff? Those people—they’re bored, miserable, and lack a life.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, but he caught the tiniest twitch of her lips.

“I’m serious!” he continued, his voice animated now, trying to coax a smile out of her. “You think someone with their life together is online talking about you? No. They’re too busy living. The ones who leave those comments? They’re jealous. Of your talent, your looks, and—” he grinned, throwing her a quick, cheeky look—“the fact that you get to date me.”

She couldn’t help it; a small laugh escaped, though she quickly stifled it. 

“I’ll take that laugh as an agreement” he said, triumphant. “So why are you letting ridiculous people get to you?”

Her smile faded, replaced by a vulnerable look she rarely showed. “It’s not just them, Franco. It’s... everything. I just... I don’t feel good enough.”

He softened immediately, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. “Amor,” he said, reaching over to rest his hand on hers. “You don’t need surgery. You don’t need to change anything. Not for them, not for anyone.”

She looked at him, her eyes doubtful. “You really think that?”

“I know that,” he said firmly. Then, in true his fashion, he couldn’t resist adding, “But if you’re still not convinced, I could always pull up other fan pages. The comments about my hair after races alone will make you feel like a queen.”

That earned him a real chuckle.

“See? Much better,” he said with a grin. “No more websites like that, okay?”

She nodded, her heart lighter, and when his fingers gave hers a reassuring squeeze, she squeezed back.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language, and I hope you liked it <3

[starstruckloves]

this is gonna be a long one folks mwehehe

1. What are your favorite dates to have with them? Alternatively, what are their favorite dates to have with you?

i think my favorite type of date with Brett (oh yah this is all abt Brett btw bc ofc it is) is just like a little stay at home date maybe ? we'd like binge watch something together, get take out, all that. i feel like we try n have a date night every week on Sundays or if things get too hectic, every other week. but for Brett, i think he'd honestly like anything. i think he would believe he has to like do a lot n put in a lot of effort for it to be a date but then i tell him that we rlly can just sit at home i don't mind (n i'm also very easily pleased so SKHJDH) n he feels like he can chill a little

2. What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

uhh i don't have it exact or anything tbh (bc i rlly don't feel like going through it rn) but i am shorter for sure. my s/i is maybe like,, neck level to him

3. On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

oh he can do PDA all day baby SKGHSH he will not be shy about the fact that we're together. sling his arm around me in public, brief kisses, holding hands, all the likes. he won't go as far as making out or anything like that (unless i wanted to then maybe he'd consider it) but again, not shy abt the fact that we're together. the real reason he doesn't do it all the time is i just get overwhelmed occasionally

4. What's your favorite feature about your f/о?

his hair aawahbaba but thats very true for most of my f/os i just love their hair

5. What do you think they smell like?

unfortunately, axe body spray SKHJDB i think there was a joke about that in the show ? but yah something like that. n trust i will be actively trying to suggest him different things that maybe he'd like

6. What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

probably similar to me. words of affirmation at the top n quality time next in line. he really needs to validation that he's doing well n that i love him which, i will be honest, i'm not that great at but i will put forth the effort for him !!!

7. What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

okay think of like two very excitable but anxious dogs. thats us SKGHSG but on a fr note, we're just fairly similar. i'm just a bit more confident n assertive while he has more empathy n charm. but we're both excitable, affectionate, (kinda) idiots. it's bimbo n himbo love

8. Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

we hold hands a lot. anytime a meeting is getting too boring or one of us is secretly having a bad day ? boom hand holding. walking down the street ? we holdin hands. sometimes he even let's me hold pinkies with him bc he knows i like it from the older movies he watches hehehee

9. Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc) and vice versa?

he loves giving kisses whenever he can, mostly when cuddling. he becomes so affectionate when we're by ourselves n he can just do whatever so he will not stop kissing me like ever SKGHDH his favorite places to kiss are like my cheeks n shoulders maybe heehe but for meee hmm i would like kissing his nose n forehead probably just so i can like,, look at him SJGHSH hold his cheeks n look at him with my big ole eyes

10. What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

absolutely nothing SKGHSH sometimes work is tiring so one of us will just go over to the other's place n just do absolutely nothing together. maybe order a pizza, watch a movie we like, something random just so we can cuddle :]

this was so fun yippee yippee !!! love talking abt f/os

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!

People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

[bloomzone]

First Lesson of 2025 !

So, I have this one close friend. We’ve been tight for a like a year and half (from 10th grade) , but since we’re now in different high schools, we don’t see each other as often. After finals, I thought, ‘Why not invite her over to my house to hang out and watch a movie?’ When I brought up the idea, she wasn’t super excited, but she said, ‘Okay, I’ll come.!!’

I took it seriously because I really wanted to spend time with her. My aunt and cousin even pitched in, helping me buy snacks and prepare for her visit. I was looking forward to it so much. But then, she messaged me, saying, ‘I’m busy; let’s schedule this for another day or I don't know" I answer with an ok fine and she left me seen

I’m not going to lie—it hurt. I put in the effort to make this moment happen, and it felt like she didn’t really care as much as I did. It made me realize that sometimes, I care too much. I pour my energy into others, planning things and getting excited, and when it doesn’t work out, I’m left feeling disappointed.

But I can’t let myself get too caught up in how others respond. People have their reasons, and it doesn’t mean they don’t care (idk fr lmao )it just means they show it differently. Still, I learned that I need to stop depending on others to make me feel happy or fulfilled. I need to focus on myself and put that same energy into loving and caring for me.

So, here’s my first lesson of 2025: care, but don’t over-care. Respect your own time and feelings, and remember, your happiness starts with you. Sometimes, it’s okay to let go and just enjoy your own company.

@bloomzone

[fadelbison]

Fadel and Bison Learning to Volley Affection in the way that only assassin (real) brothers (fake) can

the curse of being me is that I watch this show entirely with the lens that fadel/kant and bison/style are basically the same characters with a few key differences [like c'mon Kant's bg story is that he was a khun nu himself suddenly thrust into poverty and fatherhood to his baby brother??? its embarrassing how easy it is to watch the show in this way I think the show should make this harder for me] and it's in these differences that the compatibility of FadelStyle and KantBison comes in so strongly that it also kind of dooms Fadel and Bison to have ever worked as a pair even though that would be as far as I can tell Bison's ideal scenario?? [please his lovers in trenches fantasy is canonical the show is really just putting it all out there for me okay??]

And it's too simplistic to be an analysis and honestly largely based on my feelings but gosh doesn't it all boil down to how Fadel expresses affection and how that just doesn't work for Bison. I think Bison has had a lot of growth in understanding Fadel, I think Style actually helped with that. In fact, the biggest reason I would argue that the foil relationship runs in the Fadel/Kant and Bison/Style vein is because the brother's relationship got better when they started their romantic relationships. Suddenly, Bison realizes that he needs to ask things of Fadel and Fadel realizes that Bison needs a little softness now and then.

Fadel threatens Style all the time this is how they flirt. The way he shows affection stays the same whether it's Bison or Style. But Style was able to take it, he's able to volley it. When Fadel threatens to kill him Style comes back with a "well, make sure I look hot." when Fadel threatens Bison, Bison kind of withers a little.

I mean I don't blame him he is such a 'no thoughts just baby' of a man if I've ever seen one

[2 screenshots of Bison. 1st where he tries acting cutesy with Fadel over his stab wound and 2nd where Fadel shoots him down with a "Want another stab wound?"]

Bison's personality is just so ill equipped to handle Fadel's brand of affection it's almost hilarious because like he does the same thing to Style right before they reconcile hahaha

[2 screenshots of Fadel telling Style "I can be worse" and "You want that?"]

BUT! He's learning!!! After his initial frustration he does smile in this fond and exasperated way.

I screamed when I saw him share this moment with Style:

[2 screenshots of Bison telling Style like he's sharing a secret, "He {Fadel} acts all tough and rough on the outside but on the inside he's just a softie.]

Oh??? oh you understand this about your brother now??? You've only had like over a decade to figure this out about him and yet in Ep.1 you told Kant that Fadel was tough inside and out!!!! Why are you telling Style this as though he isn't the reason you even know!!! I think this has always been Bison's fundamental issue with Fadel:

I think he's just never figured out that Fadel loves him and worries about him? Poor baby, I'll never get over him asking Fadel to be his brother like Kant is with Babe. Fadel is already that brother to you Bison, what are you talking about 😭😭😭 I think their relationship with Keen has revealed so much about Fadel and Bison [because god forbid they tell us anything directly about their past] but Keen has struggled to be seen by their family, for his efforts to be acknowledged by Mother and by Mother's favorite (Fadel).

Bison's competence has gotten him a certain measure of respect from Mother and Older Sister (Fadel) but he too has struggled to be seen by them, to be taken seriously by them. Keen and Bison are more similar in their position in the family than Bison and Fadel even though Keen can't see it. But Bison can, and I would argue that Bison has always felt it.

It's not surprising that Fadel and Bison's dynamic shifts because Bison is the one learning to talk to Fadel, with jibes and threats and guns if needed

[screenshot of Fadel saying to Bison "You're turning a gun on your own brother for him?]

@mirmoria was extremely spot on when they said that this moment was never about Kant, it was always about Fadel finally listening to him and giving Bison his right to choose Kant's fate back to him. Bison has finally figured out what to do about his lack of agency in this relationship! Bison says as much too:

[Screenshot of Bison responding to Fadel with a gun pointed at him, "But it's my life"]

Anyway, with all of this new found understanding between them at no point in the story have Bison and Fadel been more primed to fall in love than right now, yes right at the height of their respective romances on the beach. And these are the kinds of earth shattering conclusions you can always hope to find in the stuff I write.

[dorabellingham]

Boyfriend material

headcanon

characters: jobe x fem!reader

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors

1. King of well-planned surprises

Jobe loves to surprise you, but he doesn't do it in an obvious or cliché way. Instead of flowers at the door of the house, he books a private cooking class because he knows you casually commented on learning how to make typical food from somewhere. He listens to the small details and transforms them into big gestures. And the best? He gets a shy smile, a little embarrassed, waiting for your reaction, as if he didn't know he got it right.

2. He memorises your favourite playlist

Jobe knows all the songs you love. He has a playlist on Spotify called "For Y/n" and whenever he hears a song that reminds you, he adds it. The cutest thing is that sometimes he plays when you're in the car, just to see you sing. And of course, when they are separated, he sends a song from the list with a "I remembered you."

3. He's a great cook (but only for you)

Despite being a disaster in the kitchen when he's alone, Jobe makes a real effort when it's for you. He learns basic recipes and ventures with more elaborate dishes just because he knows you like them. It's always an event: he puts on music, tries to follow recipes on YouTube, and in the end, the kitchen is a mess. But he compensates by putting the food on the table with a proud smile, waiting for your compliment.

4. He is the best listener in the world

Jobe has a special talent for hearing you talk about absolutely anything. If you're talking about a book, about the new series you watched, or even about something you read in an academic article, he pays attention with genuine interest. He asks questions, gives opinions, and you feel like the most important person in the world.

5. He's absurdly affectionate in public

He's not afraid to show how much he loves you in public. Whenever you are walking together, he holds your hand, gives quick kisses on tour forehead or wraps you with his big arm when it's cold. He doesn't care if there are paparazzi around or if someone is watching - he just wants you to know that he is there, on your side, always.

6. He's the type who solves fights calmly (and hugs)

Jobe hates fights and discord, especially with you. He is the one who tries to solve everything calmly and by talking. Even when he is angry, he takes a deep breath, tries to listen to his side and speaks carefully. If he feels that the discussion is too heavy, he interrupts and says: "Let's breathe and talk about it later, I don't want to hurt you." And, of course, he never lets you sleep upset - he always ends the night with an apology or a tight hug.

7. He is super protective, but not in a possessive way

He is the kind of boyfriend who ensures that you feel safe all the time. It is protective in a subtle way - like being careful when they are in crowded places, holding your hand so they don't get lost, or checking the car before a trip. He is never possessive, but everyone knows that you are the love of his life.

8. He encourages your dreams (and remembers the details)

Jobe not only believes in your dreams, but also makes a point of being the greatest supporter. If you have a new project, he is the first to ask how he can help. He also remembers the smallest details, like when you mentioned that you wanted to go back to practising something, and sent cute messages before the first day saying how proud you were.

9. He is very organised, except when he is in love

Most of the time, Jove is super organised: the closet is tidy, the schedules are in place and he follows an impeccable routine. But when he's with you, it all falls apart. He forgets his socks on the couch because they were watching a movie together or leaves the bed untidy because he preferred to sleep a little more to the solo. He always says that you are the only thing that messes up his life - in a good way.

10. He's unbearably cute when he's jealous

Jobe is mature and confident, but even he can't resist a little jealousy from time to time. If someone flirts with you, he doesn't make a scene, but the closed look and the hand on your waist deliver everything. Then, he jokes: "Just for you to remember, you already have a very good english by your side." And of course, you love to provoke him just to see this reaction - which only makes him even more cute and in love.

[noc1818]

A Score to be Settled - Chrollo X Reader Fanfic

Hey everyone! I've had this idea for a Chrollo fic swirling around in my head for a while now, where Chrollo wrongs the reader, who's also from Meteor City, during their childhood. This event impacts them so deeply that they’re willing to go to any lengths to seek revenge and settle the score. This chapter is just the backstory leading up to the main plot. If you're interested in reading more, let me know—I’m really enjoying writing it and have a lot more I want to explore! Plus, it’s a fun project to help me get back into writing again. I truly appreciate any support!

Also, this is mostly unedited because I was too excited to share, so feel free to let me know if anything needs fixing!

A few warnings for this piece: Dark themes, death, angst, and intense struggles for survival.

Chapter One: The Debt

Meteor City - Residential Area, 1984

Digging through the scrap was a common occurrence in Meteor City. It was the only way to survive. It always astonished you that people would just throw out and dump some of this stuff without a second thought. Had they never had to scavenge for food or clothes? The idea of having a roof over your head and some form of food security felt like a distant daydream. But that was not your reality. Even at such a young age, the harsh truth of Meteor City was ingrained in your very being.

This had always been the case, at least since you could remember. Your first true memory was when you were five years old, hiding in a broken refrigerator with your little sister, Sumi, who was only two at the time, from some less-than-favorable characters searching the area. That was the reality for all the kids in Meteor City—except for Sumi. She was always a ray of light. Even in the darkest moments, she could spin a positive outlook, which, while uplifting, was sometimes a bit overwhelming.

Recently, she’d been going on and on about a group of kids, she’d met who performed shows for anyone willing to watch. Every day, she came back excited, telling you all about the latest show and its colorful cast of characters. You had promised her that one day you’d go with her to check out the performances. But the reality was that most of your days—hell, your entire childhood—had been spent scavenging and trying to make the best shelter you could for Sumi and yourself.

Still, if you were honest with yourself, your efforts were starting to pay off. You had gathered enough food and non-perishable goods to start a stockpile for the coming winter.

Not only had you been gathering food, but you had been saving Jenny, hoping to accumulate enough to get you and your sister out of the city. At thriteen years old, hidden in your makeshift shack and buried deep within an old metal tea kettle, you had quite a bit saved up. The reality was that it wasn’t much, but to a child with nothing, a hundred Jenny could change a life. Soon, you and Sumi would leave this scrap heap behind and start a real life. You’d be able to give her a solid foundation and a secure future.

As if on cue, scrambling down the narrow paths between the trash heaps, Sumi appeared. She ran toward you in her oversized pink sweater, patched and worn where the fabric had torn over time. She wore frayed blue shorts and dirty old sneakers. As she approached, you noticed her shoes were untied again and made a note to try to teach her how to tie them properly.

Upon seeing you, Sumi immediately called out, “Big Sis!”

Looking up, you gave her a warm smile and a wave. “Sumi, be careful running like that! You might fall!”

Hearing your call, she slowed down and made her way to your makeshift shelter. You had found a space between two scrap heaps, covered with metal sheets that mostly kept the rain out during downpours. You’d draped a cloth over the outside to help keep out the cold and block prying eyes from seeing inside.

Sumi walked over with a big smile, immediately hugging you tightly. “Big Sis, the show today was so cool! They were doing a musical.”

You hummed in acknowledgment of her excited ramblings. Your focus was more on her worn shoes and thinking how you might be able to get her a new pair. But Sumi bright, attentive eyes and her soft call of your name brought your attention back to the present.

“Y/N, are you listening?” she asked, tilting her head with a playful smile.

You nodded, ruffling her hair as you gave her your full attention. “Yes, I’m listening. Tell me all about the play. You said it was a musical, right?”

Sumi’s face lit up as she started rambling in detail about the play, the songs they sang, and the performances. It made you happy to know she had found something that made her so happy and allowed her to still be a kid.

Sumi’s gaze then shifted to the bread rations you’d found and set out for the two of you. She eagerly sat down on the dirt, ready to eat.

“Also, Big Sis, my friend from the play... Can she come over to eat sometime?” she asked, her brown eyes filled with hope.

Typically, you would say no. It was hard enough to feed just the two of you. But this was another kid—another kid from Meteor City—and she made your little sister happier than anyone else could. So, with a reluctant sigh, you nodded, saying, “Sure, but just her, okay?”

Sumi’s eyes widened, and she beamed. “Oh, good! She’ll be so excited when she gets back!”

That last part caught your attention—when she gets back. You wondered what Sumi meant by that, but rather than ask, you focused on the task at hand: getting something to eat. Hunger was often your main drive, having never truly been full your entire life. The two of you ate your bread and chatted the night away until it was time to sleep. You shared a torn-up mattress you’d found one day.

As your sister fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, you found yourself wide awake as always. The night was especially cold, even with the cloth covering the sides of your shelter. The cold air still billowed in, leaving you shivering to your core. Unable to sleep, you quietly got up and made your way outside.

Despite the chill, it was a beautiful night. The full moon illuminated the ruins of the city, casting a soft light on the heaps of metal scrap. The sky was clear—a rare sight since the smog usually made it nearly impossible to see the stars. But tonight, they shone bright and radiant, lighting up the darkness.

Little did you know, that on such a peaceful night, your life would change forever because of one mistake.

The sound of scrap being knocked over in the distance caught your attention. Despite your maturity for your age, your curiosity got the better of you. You crept toward the sound, the noise growing louder with each step. Expecting to find an adult out to cause trouble, you peeked cautiously around a corner. To your surprise, there stood a boy, slightly older than you.

He had his back to you, but you could make out his raven-like hair, which ended just above his ears. He wore a yellow-striped shirt and grey shorts, his sneakers as worn out as those of the other kids in the city. You also noticed his pale complexion. But it wasn’t just his appearance that caught your attention—it was the palpable anger radiating from him.

The boy was frantically searching every crevice in the piles of trash, looking for something—or perhaps someone. When a spot didn’t reveal what he was searching for, he would kick and throw things, sending the scrap tumbling down. But it wasn’t just his actions that struck you. There was an energy about him, an intense, almost suffocating wave of anger and despair that filled the air, making it feel heavy and thick with emotion.

You stood frozen, unsure of what to do. You had never encountered such a crushing presence before. The weight of his emotions was almost too much to bear. It took him a while before he realized someone else was there.

He turned toward you, taking a moment to process your presence. Even at his young age, it seemed like he was studying you, trying to figure out who you were. His expression was unreadable, but your silence seemed to provoke him. Without a hint of fear or caution, he started walking toward you. You weren’t surprised—after all, what could a bone-thin girl like you possibly do to a boy older than you?

As he drew closer, you noticed something you would never forget—his eyes. Steely grey, cold as steel, eyes that no child should have. They held a depth of pain, rage, and fear. It was as though his gaze could pierce through you, reading your every thought. The emptiness in them was unsettling, yet beneath that emptiness was an ocean of raw, unspoken emotion.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze remained locked on yours, unflinching. Then, in a voice that matched the indifference in his expression, he asked, “Why are you out here?”

You hesitated for a moment, processing his question. Finally, you answered in your quiet, almost inaudible voice, “I couldn’t sleep... it’s freezing.”

He listened, his eyes still fixed on yours, and after a brief pause, he nodded slightly. His tone remained flat, as if unaffected by the cold, the silence, or even the raw emotions swirling between you. “I suppose it is quite cold tonight,” he said.

You ask him the same question in return. “Why are you out here?”

Without hesitation, he responds, “I’m looking for someone.”

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. Why would he be out here, so late, searching for someone? And what’s more, he’s dressed lightly, yet he doesn’t seem bothered by the cold. Curiosity laces your voice as you ask, “Wouldn’t it be smarter to search in the morning, when there’s daylight?”

A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, as if that option simply isn’t available. “Not possible. I’ll find her tonight.”

Normally, you would’ve dismissed him, turned away, and continued with your own business. But he’s another Metor City kid, and something in the back of your mind nags at you. He’s not dressed appropriately for the cold, and if he stays out here like this, he’ll get sick. You remember finding a man’s jacket a while back, one that was too big for you or your sister, and you think maybe it’s time to put it to good use.

“You’re going to catch a cold out here like that,” you say, a note of concern in your voice. “Come with me for two seconds, and I can give you a spare coat we have.”

Your tone is free of malice, just genuine care, and that catches his attention. He gives you a curious glance, eyebrows furrowing as if trying to decipher your intentions. Every kid in this city knows that nothing comes without a price, that nothing is truly free. So when he speaks, his words are cautious.

“I don’t need the jacket.”

His dismissal stings more than you expect, and you sigh, visibly irked. You take a few steps toward him, frustration settling into your voice. “Just take it. We don’t need it.”

At the word “we,” he raises an eyebrow. He’s perceptive, you realize. He takes a step closer, and you suddenly feel the suspicion radiating off him. “You have others with you?”

The question catches you off guard for a moment, but you recover quickly. “Yeah, my little sister, Sum.”

He pauses, his face unreadable, before asking, “You’re Sumi’s older sister? You must be Y/N, then.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. How does he know your name? You raise an eyebrow, and he chuckles, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Ah, my apologies. Sumi talks about you a lot. She’s always at shows with me and the others.”

That explains it. He must be one of the performer kids Sumi has befriended. You smile, relieved to understand the connection. “Oh! You’re one of Sumi’s friends. She never stops talking about all the shows you all put on. I hear about it all the time.”

“I’m glad she enjoys them so much,” he says with a chuckle. “My name’s Chrollo, by the way. It’s nice to officially meet you, Y/N.”

You extend a hand to him, offering a handshake. “Nice to meet you too, Chrollo.”

As you both shake hands, the conversation continues, and you press him once more to take the spare jacket. He doesn’t seem to trust easily, but the fact that you’re Sumi’s sister seems to put him at ease enough to accept the offer. You can’t let one of your sister’s friends freeze, after all. In your world, you cherish the small acts of kindness, especially when life is so unforgiving.

When you lead Chrollo into your home, you notice his gaze lingering on Sumi, who’s still fast asleep despite the chilly draft in the room.

“She sleeps like a rock,” you say with a smile, reassuring him. “Don’t worry, we won’t wake her up.”

Chrollo raises an eyebrow, then shifts his attention back to you. “Really? She always seems so happy, so it’s not surprising.”

“She’s always been that way,” you reply, a fondness in your tone. “She’s able to find the bright side of things. I’ve always admired her for that.”

“That’s an admirable trait, but a bit naïve,” he remarks, his eyes scanning the room. “And you, Y/N? Which side do you find yourself on?” His intense gaze meets yours, as if he already knows the answer, as if he’s searching for something more.

You hesitate before answering, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. “While I’d like to see things in the best light, it’s not always something I can afford to do. Life is tough, especially in the city. I’m sure you know that. I guess, if anything, I’m just realistic.”

Your words hang in the air, and you meet his gaze. Life hasn’t been kind, not forgiving, and you’ve learned to take things as they are—even if that means accepting a certain darkness. It’s how you survive. It’s how you cope.

Chrollo watches you as you pull the coat from the cooler you’ve repurposed as a storage bin. You turn to hand it to him, but before you can react, he’s right there, standing so close that you nearly jump in surprise.

“Oh, my—” you start, startled. “You surprised me, Chrollo.”

He chuckles lightly. “My apologies. It wasn’t intentional.” He accepts the jacket with a graceful nod. “Thank you for this.”

You watch him pull the coat on. It’s a bit oversized now, but in a few years, it will fit him perfectly. The jacket is a unique shade of royal purple, with white fur lining the neck and sleeve ends—definitely a one-of-a-kind piece.

“Well, Y/N, I have a search to continue,” he says, turning to leave. But before he pulls the sheet up to shield himself from the cold, he pauses and looks back at you.

“I’m also a realist,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “But there’s something so lovely about dreaming, isn’t there? I look at this life from both spectrums. Sometimes, I even think those dreams we chase so desperately can become our reality—if we push hard enough. Just something to think about.”

With those final words, he leaves before you can respond, disappearing into the night.

You stand there, staring at the door as his words linger in your mind. At first, you feel a sharp irritation. He didn’t ask for your opinion, so why did he offer unsolicited advice? And as for his belief that dreams could be turned into reality with enough force—that seemed utterly delusional, especially for kids like you, or anyone from Metor City. Hell, you’d be lucky just to make it to eighteen.

But something about what he said sticks with you, curling into your thoughts like a stubborn seed. You don’t dwell on it for long. You curl up next to Sumi, trying to shake the thoughts away, and drift into sleep. But as you do, you can’t help but wonder… what if, just for once, he was right?

 The next morning, you wake up to the sound of Sumi’s sobs, her distress pulling you from sleep. Instantly, you pull her into a tight hug.

“Shh, Sumi, it’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt? What happened?” Your voice is steady and calm, a skill you’ve mastered over the years, both as her big sister and in moments of chaos. You’ve always had a knack for calming people in hysteria, and Sumi, in her younger days, gave you plenty of practice.

After a few minutes of reassurance and gentle prodding, she starts to calm down. She looks up at you, her eyes wide and teary, her lip trembling.

“Big sis, it’s… it’s all gone. Our food… our money… it’s all gone,��� she says, before breaking into fresh sobs.

At those words, your heart drops. What does she mean? Gone? Your stomach twists with dread.

You pull away from Sumi for a moment, moving quickly to the cooler. There’s no way it could be empty. But when you lift the lid, your breath catches. The cooler is completely bare. All the food and supplies you had gathered for months—some even for years—are gone.

Frantically, you move the cooler aside, only to reveal an empty hole beneath it. The kettle where you kept all your jenny, your coins, your savings—also gone. There’s nothing left.

Panic rises in your chest. How could this happen? Who could have taken everything? Why didn’t you hear anything during the night? Your mind races with a hundred questions, each more frantic than the last. Beneath it all, though, a seething anger begins to bubble. How could anyone do this to kids who had nothing?

But then, Sumi’s sobs break through your clouded thoughts, pulling you back to reality. This is where you need to be the bigger sister. You need to calm her down, to give her the reassurance she needs, even if it means making false promises in the moment.

You pull her into another tight hug, patting her head in an attempt to soothe her. “Shh, Sumi. It’s going to be okay. I’ll figure it out. We’re going to be just fine, I promise.”

Your words, however, don’t seem to help. Sumi’s crying only intensifies, her distress deepening.

“No, Y/N, it’s not! It’s almost winter! I may be younger, but I’m not dumb. I knew it took you almost all year to gather what we had, and that was mostly lucky finds. This is my fault!” she says through ragged sobs, her nose sniffling.

“It’s no one’s fault, Sumi,” you reply, your own voice breaking slightly. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, but you fight them back, continuing to hold it together. “We’re going to be okay. I’ll figure it out. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

But Sumi, seeing the tears in your eyes, crumbles further. “Big sis, you don’t understand. This is my fault! It was my friends at the play. They took our stuff. I shouldn’t have told Big Sis Sarasa where we live. She must’ve told the others. But I don’t know how—she’s been missing for a few days now!”

Your heart sinks, piecing together exactly what’s happened. It was Chrollo. He and his friends took everything. You allowed yourself to be blinded by the fact that he was another kid, someone you thought you could help. But instead, he took advantage of your kindness.

It takes everything in you to hide your shock. You can’t let Sumi see your own pain and disappointment. Instead, you swallow your anger and fear, and lie to her, thinking that protecting her from the truth is what’s best.

“Sumi,” you say, forcing a smile, trying to sound reassuring, “I bet your friends are just borrowing some food from us. Nothing to worry about. They’ll bring it back soon, okay?”

You can see the doubt in her eyes, but there’s a glimmer of hope there too. That spark—the same one she’s always had—begins to flicker. “Prove it, big sis. How do you know?”

You take a deep breath, hoping the lie doesn’t show in your eyes. “I just know, Sumi. I’ll make sure everything’s okay. I promise.”

Even though she doesn’t fully believe you, the fragile hope in her eyes is enough to make you cling to your own false reassurance. For her sake, you need to keep it together, even if it’s falling apart inside.

After Sumi had calmed down enough to be let go, you stood up, needing some space to think and to get some fresh air. You reached for the jacket you had thrown haphazardly over yourself the night before to stay warm, and as you put it on, a small white note fell from the pocket. Sumi, too absorbed in her tears, hadn’t noticed it before.

You hesitated for a moment, but your curiosity got the best of you. You unfolded the note, already knowing who it was from. It could only be one person—Chrollo.

The note read:

Y/N,I am sure you are angry, and rightfully so. It was nothing personal, of course—just my family needed it more than yours. Take this as a lesson and grow stronger from it. Never trust a stranger, no matter what they look like.Best of luck, and do take care of Sumi. Thanks again for your generosity.

As you read the words over again, the initial shock wore off, and a seething anger filled you. That bastard had taken everything—everything—because he could. And now he had the audacity to call it a lesson.

Your blood boiled. You would find him. You would make him pay.

In the midst of your fury, you didn’t notice Sumi, still sitting on the floor, glance over your shoulder and read the note with wide, curious eyes.

“Big sis? What does it say?” she asked, her head tilted, voice uncertain.

You froze for a moment, her question catching you off guard. Then, your mind raced. You knew Sumi couldn’t read—something that, under normal circumstances, would be a problem. But today, it was a relief. More than anything, you wanted to preserve that spark of joy in her eyes, to keep her from losing that innocence and hope.

With a forced smile, you turned to face her and lied through your teeth.

“Oh, it’s just a letter from your friends. They’re gathering more food and are going to bring it to share with us.”

At your words, Sumi’s face brightened. The sadness left her eyes, and joy returned to her expression as she beamed up at you. “Really, big sis? That’s great!”

You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile, though inside, your mind was still spinning with your plan for revenge. Sumi spent the rest of the day telling you about the shows and how amazing they were. You listened, but your thoughts were elsewhere, planning the next steps, knowing full well that your reality wasn’t one that relied on hopes and miracles. You would have to be ruthless to survive in this world—and you would.

Meteor City – Residential Area, 1995

Years later, you found yourself standing once again among the scraps of Meteor City, holding a small yellow daffodil. You gazed down at the modest grave, an unreadable expression on your face. Deep inside, though, the wound was still open and raw. The stone atop the grave was crudely carved with the name Sumi. Her grave was one of the few places in this wasteland where life seemed to thrive—a small patch of grass and flowers growing amidst the decay.

You offered a faint, sad smile, thinking that even in death, Sumi brought hope and life wherever she was.

Your mind wandered back to that brutal winter in 1984 when you lost your little sister. After the Phantom Troupe stole everything—your food, your money—you were left with nothing. For months, you scavenged, but it was never enough. The freezing nights and lack of food took a toll, and Sumi grew terribly ill. You searched high and low for medicine, anything that could save her, but the world wouldn’t help two poor kids from Meteor City. Every time you tried, you were chased away or kicked out.

As the weeks dragged on, one night Sumi’s fever spiked too high. You held her until she fell asleep, but then you heard it—those final, shallow breaths. That’s when you knew. Your sister was gone.

Now, standing over her grave, you reached into the satchel you carried and pulled out three items: a ticket to a masquerade ball, a key, and new identification papers. These were the tools you’d carefully acquired through a contact to forge a new identity—a whole new life in Yorknew City. They were your tickets to escape Meteor City, to avenge Sumi, and to strike at the heart of the Phantom Troupe. You couldn’t let them know who you truly were.

You had devoted your life to this, to rebuilding yourself and taking them down—especially Chrollo. He was the one responsible for her death. It was all for greed. But that was going to end now.

Looking once more at Sumi’s grave, you made a vow, your voice firm and steady.

“Sumi, I swear I’ll come back once the debt’s been repaid. After all, we’ve got a score to settle.”

With that, you turned away and walked towards the tinted car that waited to take you to the next step in your journey. The road ahead was long, but it was one you would walk with purpose. Chrollo Lucilfer—the leader of the Phantom Troupe—had no idea what was coming for him. You would make him pay, and you would not stop until you did.

[enemiestolovershoe]

Warmth and Care

Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: Noah takes care of reader while she‘s on her period

Words: 885

Warnings: Period and Cramps

A/N: Another version of this was requested but I felt like writing a second version just with Noah and Reader. But click here to read the other Version.

The soft glow of the morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. Normally, you loved mornings like this—warm, serene, and quiet. But today was different. You lay curled up on your side, buried beneath a pile of blankets, clutching your stomach as a familiar, dull ache radiated from your abdomen. You groaned softly, shifting to try and find a position that didn’t make you want to cry.

You heard the faint rustling of movement outside the bedroom door, followed by the quiet click of it opening. “Babe?” Noah’s voice, warm and slightly raspy from sleep, reached you. You didn’t look up, too focused on managing the pain in your belly.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the tremor in your voice gave you away.

Noah crossed the room quickly, his bare feet silent on the carpet. He perched on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes filled with concern as they scanned your face. “What’s going on?” he asked softly, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Cramps,” you admitted weakly, closing your eyes. “It’s no big deal.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You look miserable,” he said, his voice laced with worry. “What can I do? Do you need medicine? A heating pad? Food?”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight of him. His hair was a mess of soft waves, his hoodie slightly rumpled, and his brow furrowed in concern. “I just need to rest,” you murmured. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to fuss over me.”

Noah didn’t move, his hand still gently stroking your hair. “Fussing is kind of my thing, you know,” he said with a small smile. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Before you could protest, he was up and out of the room. You heard the faint sounds of him moving around in the kitchen—cabinet doors opening and closing, the clink of mugs, the hum of the microwave. Curiosity tugged at you, but the effort to move felt like too much.

A few minutes later, Noah returned, balancing a tray in his hands. “Room service,” he announced softly, setting the tray down on the bedside table.

“What’s all this?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Tea,” he said, handing you a steaming mug of chamomile. “I added honey because I think that’s supposed to help with cramps or something. And I brought you some toast in case you’re hungry.”

Your heart swelled at the gesture. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, taking a careful sip of the tea.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply. “If you’re hurting, I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing.”

As you sipped your tea, Noah held up a heating pad he’d unearthed from the bathroom. “Want me to heat this up for you?”

“Yes, please,” you said gratefully.

While he handled the heating pad, he kept glancing back at you. “Do you want to watch something? I can set up Netflix. Or we could do one of those mindless true crime shows you like.”

You chuckled, touched by his willingness to cater to your every whim. “I’m good with whatever,” you said, your voice still soft but more relaxed now.

When he returned, the heating pad was warm and ready. Noah carefully tucked it under the blanket, adjusting it until it was snug against your stomach. “Better?” he asked, sitting beside you.

“Much better,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and grabbed the remote. “Okay, rom-com or murder mystery?”

“Rom-com,” you said with a grin. “But you hate those.”

“I’ll survive,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “Besides, I’m here to make you feel better, not myself.”

The next hour passed in cozy bliss. Noah sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, occasionally making sarcastic comments about the movie’s cheesy plotline. You laughed weakly at his remarks, grateful for the distraction from the lingering cramps.

At some point, Noah got up and returned with more snacks and a bottle of water. He handed them to you without a word, sitting back down and pulling you close again. His hand found its way to your back, rubbing soothing circles as the movie played on.

When the credits finally rolled, you turned to him, your heart full. “Thank you,” you murmured, looking up at him.

“For what?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“For taking care of me. For making me laugh. For being the best boyfriend ever,” you said, your voice warm with sincerity.

Noah smiled, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Always,” he said softly. “You’d do the same for me.”

He stretched out beside you, pulling you into his arms so you were nestled against his chest. His steady heartbeat and the warmth of his body eased the tension that had been gripping you all morning. As his fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, you felt the pain and discomfort melting away, replaced by the overwhelming comfort of being loved.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think that no matter how bad the cramps got, you’d always have Noah to make it better.

Taglist: @courta13

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

“Rules?” Soren didn’t realize he’d echoed the word until he saw Ashlynn nodding, hand resting at something at her side that looked like a thumbtack. She looked nervous. Unsure. There was a general unease about the air around the small woman that made Soren almost feel wary, but something more. A desire. A simple goal of showing to this person he could be trusted. Perhaps it was his nature, or perhaps it was some kind of affect this tiny woman had over him.

Whatever the case, he continued to listen as Ashlynn spoke. She was on her feet now, and it was obvious she was just as nervous as he was.

“Yes, rules.” Her voice was shaking. “Staying for dinner. Being seen. Any interaction. There are rules you need to follow. All of you. If you can’t agree to those, then I’m gone. Get it?”

He as absolutely entranced. What kind of courage did it take for her to come up and speak to someone so much bigger than her? And what drove her from the walls out to speak with him? Was she in danger? She seemed like she could handle herself well enough. Or was it something else? Something he couldn’t understand or hadn’t noticed because of her silence?

He looked into her blue gray eyes and sensed the gravity of her request.

“Got it,” he breathed. His fascination kept him silent as he watched her fidget, eyes flicking back and forth as she gathered her thoughts.

Even though Ashlynn suspected Soren would be agreeable, the words were still hard to speak. Thoughts swirled in her head like a whirling tornado. Everything she’d ever been taught fought to constrain her voice. Every lesson engraved in her mind compelled her to stop.

Solitude drove many in desperation. She never thought she’d be broken enough to accept it, but here she was – a Borrower talking to a human.

Ashlynn had thought long and hard about all of the things that she wanted to say and the rules she would need to set in place to ensure her safety. There were so many, but there were a few that needed to be set in stone before she agreed to interact with Soren and his sons.

“Okay, rule one – no prying questions. I’ll answer some about me, but if I say no, it means no. Drop it. Leave it alone. Sharing too much is dangerous for me. Two, when I say it’s time to go, I have to go. No persuading. No keeping. No caging. No boxes either.” Ashlynn watched Soren absorbing her words like a sponge, making no effort to inquire further or counter any of her requests.

Is it really going to be this easy?

“T-three, no touching. No grabbing, pinching, poking, prodding, stroking, or petting. Ask before you do any of that. If I say it’s okay, then… go slow. Four, don’t make things so… obvious… that you’re helping or leaving things out. It makes things easy. I don’t want easy. I’m not a pet and just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m weak.

“Finally, no telling others about me. No stories. No hints. No drawings. Nothing that points to my existence. Do you accept?” Ashlynn wasn’t sure why she was holding her breath. Everything seemed reasonable enough, but what would Soren think?

As for the human, each request only dared him to ask more questions about their wall dwelling house guest. It was the first and obviously most important of the five rules that Ashlynn set in place. Rather than question all of them, Soren decided that asking only one, clarifying question would benefit himself and his brothers.

“Yes, of course; but I do have one question if you don’t mind.” Soren’s soft tone lessened the blow of the question, but even that wasn’t enough to ward off Ashlynn’s obvious hesitance. Soren watched her fidget subtly, obviously uneasy about the question poised to strike.

She backed slightly toward the electrical cover as she replied, “Okay? What is it?”

“What counts as a ‘prying question?’ Your name, for example, could be considered prying. What food you like or don’t like could count as prying too. Also, Rey and Dorian are curious by nature. They might not know the difference or practice discretion,” pointed out Soren. By the way the infinitesimal eyes flicked down and side to side, it was obvious Ashlynn hadn’t considered these things. “Could… I suggest a compromise? We can ask, but you don’t have to answer. Just tell us if we’re out of line and, like you said, we’ll drop it. As long as you don’t take offence to that suggestion.”

Soren hoped Ashlynn wouldn’t go sprinting back into the walls at his suggestion. Being friends was his goal, if he had to give it a name. The human watched, breath baited, as Ashlynn contemplated the request.

Every time you show up, I have more questions – questions you probably don’t want to answer. Who are you? What are you? Where do you come from? Are there more like you out there? And do they need help? Why are you trusting us now when you weren’t before? Did something happen? Is there something you need? Want? Are you telling me we can’t ask questions because you’re protecting someone? Who are you protecting?

Or are you just as curious about us as we are of you?

Soren would never dare voice these questions now or ever. Ashlynn seemed too timid, too careful, to dare answer even one of these questions. It would likely drive her away, and he didn’t want that. By no stretch of the imagination did he want to keep her here against her will, but the world was a dangerous place and, for better or worse, that protective instinct he inherited from his father and that kept his brothers safe now stretched out its hand to protect her.

The moment felt stationary before, after several skeptical looks, Ashlynn nodded a single time. “You… you can ask, but I won’t answer.”

Soren felt a smile spread across his face and the breath contained in his lungs vacated his body. He wasn’t sure how things would continue, but now he knew how they were going to start.

“So… do we shake to seal the deal? Or, do I start making dinner for four?” It was a relatively poor ploy to move things forward, but it worked. Ashlynn’s smile and obviously relieved expression told Soren everything he needed to know.

“Um… dinner. What… what’s the significance of shaking? Like… this?” Ashlynn shivered as she watched Soren’s reaction, which he was barely able to suppress as his amusement was trying to get the better of him.

“Um…” Soren cleared his throat to hide the laugh tickling the back of his throat. “No. Not exactly. It’s a handshake. You grab the other person’s hand who you want to make a deal with and that shows you both agree to the terms and stuff.” He only heard a soft “oh” in response to his explanation.

What kind of life do you live, Ashlynn? Absolutely fascinating…

“So… um… is there… anything I can do to help? Or… erm…” Ashlynn glanced around the countertops that exaggerated her size difference to Soren as she bounced her arms against her sides. It was obviously a bit of a nervous quirk, but Soren tucked that away for later.

“Let’s see,” he said absentmindedly as he thought about what Ashlynn could actually do to assist. “We’re having pizza tonight. Have you ever had it?” Ashlynn gave a vague shrug. “It’s basically cheese, bread, and tomato sauce with different toppings. Oh! I have something you can do. You have a knife, right? You could go ahead and start opening the bags and such. If you wanted to that is.”

Ashlynn, inundated with a lot of information all at once, took a second to process everything after nodding to Soren that she could fulfill the task he offered her before nodding. With little to pushback, Soren had agreed to her terms. Just like that, she was being integrated into a family activity – making dinner. The ease that Soren spoke to her and gave her a task made her head spin. She would never have been able to figure out something like this so fast.

Was it because Soren had Dorian and Rey?

Ashlynn didn’t have time to ponder because, moments after his suggestion, Soren was setting a mountain of plastic bags of varying sizes and colors onto the countertop adjacent to her. Ashlynn set her bag down by the electrical cover, keeping her hook and blade by her side, begore making the hop, skip, and jump across the stove where Soren placed the bags. Some of the food items were ones she recognized while others were completely foreign to her.

It didn’t necessarily matter. Ashlynn had tasted Soren’s food before and wasn’t about to start questioning him now. She pulled the razor blade from its sheath and began slicing. The Borrower was easily dwarfed by the bags, and she shuddered as her imagination played the stories she heard of humans trapping Borrowers in zippable bags and plastic containers.

Soren wouldn’t do that. Dorian and Rey wouldn’t do that. They’re good. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if her mantra was meant to reassure her and her decision to interact with these three humans or if she was tamping down an instinct that had picked up on potential malicious intent. Whatever the case, she continued to work.

The blade sliced easily up the shiny plastic. Twice Ashlynn had to set her makeshift razor sword to wrestle with the seams. She was so engrossed with her work that she didn’t notice until she looked up that Soren had been watching her. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“What?” she asked. Soren, who had glanced over and suddenly found himself staring, snapped out of the trance he was in after picking up on the defensiveness in her voice.

“Nothing, sorry,” he apologized. The look in her eye screamed disbelief. “It’s just interesting… differences and similarities. Your… sword? Dagger? What’s it made of?” Soren caught the tiny glint of light from the blade as Ashlynn examined it.

“It’s… just a knife. Well… for me it’s just a knife. It used to be part of a razor blade, but I bor-… er… reused the blade since it was still sharp,” explained Ashlynn. She had stopped herself from saying “borrowed” and hoped Soren didn’t notice or wouldn’t say anything. The Borrower feared he would put part of that name together and stumble across the correct term for people like her. It might’ve been a stretch, but she didn’t want to take any more risk than what she was already chancing.

“Ah… I see. And the end? You just had to flatten it and wrapped part of an… eraser? Very ingenuitive.” Soren’s complement made Ashlynn’s cheeks burn, but thankfully something or, rather, two someones pulled focus from her.

“Soren! Soren! I think we’ve got it. It’s going to be great for little m…” Soren and Ashlynn both glanced toward the living room as the sound of two pairs of footsteps thundered around the corner. Rey and Dorian were obviously racing to get to Soren first to reveal whatever they had been inventing when they stopped dead in their tracks. Both of the boys spotted Ashlynn on the counter in an instant.

Ashlynn, out of pure instinct, had backed away several large steps and crouched, hand clutching her razor blade dagger and legs primed to sprint back for the wall at a moment’s notice. The fear in her throat took a moment to swallow and she sucked in slow, deep breaths as silently as she could. The Borrower began debating whether this whole “interact with the boys” was a bad idea or not when Soren stepped forward, hands raised as if taming two wild beasts at the same time.

“Hey guys,” Soren stated clearly and calmly. “We have a guest over for dinner, so we’re going to be on our best behavior, yeah?” The boys’ faces, filled with wonder and delight, both bobbed up and down as they nodded in response to Soren’s statement.

Rey was the first to speak, giving a little wave and an optimistic smile as he said, “Hey there, little miss. Are you really staying for dinner?”

Even though Ashlynn had already committed to interacting with the human trio, getting the single word, “Yes,” out to the boys was much harder than setting the rules with Soren. The kids glanced at one another, obviously struggling to hide their excitement, before looking back to Soren.

“Does… so… does that mean she’s helping you?” Rey asked.

“Yep, and she’s doing an excellent job,” stated Soren, sneaking in a wink in Ashlynn’s direction that the boys didn’t notice. Their excitement was too distracting, just like how that wink was for Ashlynn.

“Can we help? I wanna use the smack chopper!” Dorian cheered.

Rey’s face immediately fell as he grumbled, “Hey! Not fair! I wanted to use the smack chopper.”

Smack chopper? What on earth is that? I really don’t like the sound of that, Ashlynn thought as she felt her body tense. Soren must’ve noticed, because he cleared his throat and pulled a few chopping boards out from beside the sink on his right.

“Well, at the moment I think it would be better if we let me do the cutting since we’re trying to get everything going quickly. You said you’re both hungry, right?” Soren’s sense of diplomacy and redirection was on point, and in minutes the boys were at the table helping cut and separate all of the “toppings” for the pizza. Ashlynn felt her body slowly relax as she continued her task.

At some point, Soren divvied out this squishy pale tan ball called dough and showed Ashlynn and the two boys how to knead the dough. Something about gluten and stretching out the strands. Ashlynn didn’t know. It was above her head. All she knew was that the rhythm of mixing the dough was soothing and, in a fleeting memory, she remembered seeing her mother doing something similar in their kitchen when she was very young.

“Alll-right. Now, we need to let it rise, so we’re going to put it into the sink for a bit, clean up what we can, and wait before putting everything together,” informed Soren as he gathered the balls of dough together. While Ashlynn couldn’t help clean off the table, she did snag a fragment of paper towel, attached it to the gadget Rey made for him, and began wiping down the countertop where she was standing.

It was the least she could do.

Once done, however, she watched as the boys bounded into their seats at the table, which was quite a distance away. Soren was close behind, but paused and looked back at her as he nodded at the table.

“Care to join us? We were going to play a quick game of Pictionary while we waited.” Ashlynn glanced from Soren back to the eagerly awaiting boys at the table.

“Um… sure,” she stated hesitantly. “But… I… I don’t know how to play.”

“Don’t worry. It’s very easy,” reassured Soren.

“You can be on my team!” Rey suggested, his pale blue eyes sparkling in the light. Dorian shot him an envious look and echoed his brother’s offer.

“Or mine! You can choose to be on my team.” The boys’ banter back and forth reminded Ashlynn of how she and her…. She felt her heart sink, a hollow spot in her chest as her situation felt thrust back into her face. It felt like so long ago…

Mere feet away, Soren noticed Ashlynn’s features shift from amused to crestfallen in a matter of moments. Is she sad because she doesn’t know the game? Maybe she doesn’t want to disappoint either brother? Or is something else going on? Soren wondered.

“Alrighty guys. Maybe we show her how to play and then see if she wants to choose a team,” suggested Soren. “And you don’t have to join us if you don’t want to. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with. Also, if you need a hand, happy to help.”

It was quite a generous offer, and once again a display of Soren’s ability to read her mind; for the most part anyway.

“I… thank you. I’ll make my way over while you get everything all set up.” Ashlynn thought the lift would be nice, but having Soren carry her to the table in front of the boys might send the wrong message, especially since Soren hadn’t had a chance to tell them the rules and conditions for her visiting.

“So shall it be,” he smiled before turning back to the boys and dividing up different pieces of paper and cards. With only quick flicks from curious eyes on her, Ashlynn snagged her things and headed to the edge of the counter. The wood grain had obvious pock marks from where her hook had lodged itself on previous borrowing missions. So, with that in mind, Ashlynn slid her hook into the hole and leaned over the rim.

The rope easily slid through her fingers while her feet kept traction as she bounded down the wall like an acrobat. The wind in her hair was thrilling, and Ashlynn was on the ground in a matter of seconds. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to sense all three humans watching her, jaws slack in awe.

This is really going to blow their minds then. Ashlynn stifled a grin to herself as she flicked the line. The ripple dislodged the hook and sent it flying through the air, and Ashlynn was ready for it. She only had to take two steps to the side as she snagged the hook out of the air before it hit the ground and rolled up the line in record time.

“Woah!” Both Dorian and Rey were leaning over the table, eyes wide as saucers, as they watched Ashlynn spin and hurl the hook up like a discus. It flew through the air and lodged into the side of the table on the first try, something Ashlynn was hoping would happen for dramatic effect, before climbing the line, legs weaving around the line like a snake, as she inched her way up.

“You are seriously so cool, little miss,” said Dorian, shifting his position from leaning over the table to peering under it to watch Ashlynn climb. Even Soren, who Ashlynn was climbing up beside, looked impressed.

“And, instead of gawking, we can go over a couple of rules she set for us. If she’s going to be visiting, we need to respect those rules. Okay? So, listening ears on,” instructed Soren. While Soren explained all of the things Ashlynn had told him, she finally managed to lift herself up over the edge of the table and roll onto its surface. Her heart thumped loudly, and she felt a bit winded, the table being the longest distance she’d covered without resting since her injury.

“So, we can’t ask certain questions? Like her name and stuff?” asked Rey. Soren glanced unsurely at Ashlynn. He’d never been given strict instruction to keep her name a secret, but she also didn’t give him permission to tell it either.

Hearing this, Ashlynn sat up and crossed her legs, knowing what needed to be done next. Clearing her throat, she looked between the two boys who were now looking at her eagerly.

“It’s… it’s nice to meet you, Rey… Dorian. I’m Ashlynn,” she said. She didn’t miss the excited glanced the boys gave one another. The Borrower also didn’t miss the curious gleam that was as bright as a flashlight in the dark. It was that curious gleam that every Borrower was terrified of, but she’d seen it before in the boys and let her nerves come and go as they sat back down in their seats.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ashlynn,” said Dorian.

“Ashlynn. I like that name. It suits you,” chimed in Rey. The child’s complement was short lived as Rey then asked, “Did you come up with it yourself?”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer the question. These two were obviously too young for the birds and the bees talk, and she was so unlike anyone they ever met that they were obviously not assuming there were more people like her, especially parents. At least there’s one good thing from this. They’re not assuming there’s more people out there like me.

“Um… n-no. I… I didn’t come up with it,” said Ashlynn. She felt her throat tightening, which led down into her chest like roots of a tree. She swallowed and looked away, hoping this would be the end of it; and, thankfully it was.

“Yeah, I didn’t come up with Rey. Our mom and dad came up with our names. Well, our mom came up with Soren’s name, but mom and dad both picked out Dorian and Rey,” blathered Rey. The statement struck Ashlynn as a bit odd as she wondered why Soren’s name would be dragged into the mix, especially at the mention of our mom.

“And, with that line of questioning, let’s explain the rules of the game and get a few rounds in before we bake the pizzas,” interrupted Soren. Ashlynn managed to mouth “thank you” before Soren delved into how to play Pictionary.

While Ashlynn had games like this she’d played with her family growing up, it was the whole reading portion that she struggled with. Ashlynn could sound out some words and understood certain letters put together, especially the ones that indicated danger. Reading was never a Borrower’s strong suit, so instead of participating she just watched as the two brothers tried to guess what Soren was drawing, each getting a point when they guessed correctly.

It was a charming experience, but all good things had to come to an end because, finally, it was time for dinner. Soren and the boys brought everything over to the table and Soren explained how to roll out the dough to make their own personalized pizzas.

“Okay, Ashlynn, how it works is after you roll out your dough, you spread on some sauce and then put different toppings on the top. Watch me.” Soren was lightning fast as he put together the first and the second before pausing and watching Ashlynn put together her own. Dorian and Rey asked a thousand questions as she used a bit of tin foil to spread red sauce over the surface.

What was her favorite topping? In truth? She didn’t know. She liked things she recognized and that didn’t make her feel sick later, so she chose cheese, pepperoni, bacon, and peppers.

Could she eat a whole pizza by herself? Especially if she was super hungry? Not a human sized one, but maybe one her size.

Was this the first time she’d ever cooked something like this? Yes. Cooking was a challenge.

How did she cook usually? Candle stove, but that was if she needed to cook or heat something up for safety purposes.

Did she just eat leftovers she found? Yes, mostly.

Ashlynn found herself answering some of the questions and politely declining the others and, just like that, it was time to eat. The aroma alone could have brought Ashlynn to her knees. Smelling everything first hand instead of the residual from the ceiling was like the difference between night and day. The same could be said about the temperature.

Eating something warm? Revolutionary. The moment she took her first bite, Ashlynn felt herself melting into it. At one point, she even let out an audible groan, making the boys giggle.

“It’s good, right?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn could only nod in response as she relished the experience of sharing a warm meal. “Hey, I have a question for you. Have you ever been afraid of heights?”

Ashlynn shook her head, before pausing, “No, not when I’m looking down. It’s when I’m looking up, like out here, that makes me feel a little woozy.” Rey, being curious, immediately snapped his head back ninety degrees to look up at the ceiling as if to see things from Ashlynn’s perspective. It was Dorian, however, who continued questioning.

“So, like, is it hard to climb tables and stuff like that? You know, being small and everything and you having to look up?”

Ashlynn paused mid-chew and looked up at Dorian with slight indignation. The Borrower wasn’t sure if she should be offended or grateful that the kid was taking her perspective into account and asking legitimate questions that weren’t too personal. When out in the human’s territory, it was all too obvious that size was a factor. She knew she was small, but for a Borrower she was slightly above average height. That was no small feat for a Borrower. She finished chewing and swallowed before readjusting where she sat.  

“Um… no? I mean, it was hard when I was little – little-er. It just takes practice,” Ashlynn replied. For the first time in what felt like an hour of constant inundation from the boys, Soren spoke up.

“Yeah, I can understand that. We have to do rope training and looking up at a building roof is probably the same as looking up at the top of a table for you. I noticed you were using what we call the ‘s-hook’ method to get up the rope,” stated Soren. Ashlynn’s imagination instantly ran off the rails, her train of thought imagining Soren climbing up a line. She looked away quickly, cheeks burning, and hoped Soren didn’t notice her miniature fantasy.

“I… er… I don’t know the names. It’s just what I found was faster to limb the line,” muttered Ashlynn. “I’m… impressed you can climb a line. Most humans don’t know how to do basic survival stuff.”

“Yeah, Soren knows everything,” grinned Rey as he took another bite. Sauce smeared on either sides of his lips. His smile beamed through, despite the red staining on his mouth. Ashlynn nodded and glanced up at Soren, catching his eye.

“Yeah, your dad is really great.” Immediately, she watched Soren’s features darken. Now he was the one who was stiff and who looked away awkwardly. Unease settled around the table. The beaming smile on Rey’s face diminished, and Dorian’s brow furrowed in a scowl. Ashlynn felt like she’d just set off a firecracker in the walls, and all eyes were on her.

What? What did I say? Did I say that wrong? What’s going on?

“How would you know? You’ve never met him,” Dorian piped up before taking a particularly viscous bite out of his pizza slice, tearing the edge away with ease. Confusion didn’t cover Ashlynn’s initial reaction. She glanced up at Soren, who was clenching and unclenching his jaw and keeping his eyes averted.

“Yeah… dad… he’s not… the greatest…” mumbled Rey. “He’s the one who gave me these.” At that, Rey pulled back his long sleeved shirt, and the sight broke Ashlynn’s heart. There were circular marks going up Rey’s arm. They looked like burns, but not like the ones Soren had on his calloused hands. There were other marks too that might’ve been cuts, but Ashlynn couldn’t tell from where she was sitting. Dorian did the same, wiping his hands on his pants and pulling up his sleeves to show the same marks on him.

“No… he’s definitely not the greatest.” It was the first time Ashlynn had heard a growl come out of Soren, darkness saturating his words. She’d obviously treaded on a taboo subject; but how? She looked from person to person before the words came to her.

“But… hang on a second. So… they’re not yours?” Ashlynn looked up at Soren as she pointed to the boys. Soren’s golden hazel eyes locked onto Ashlynn’s blue gray orbs and, like the striking of a match, realization struck him. Instantly, his eyes lightened and was replaced with something else – amusement. Ashlynn looked back to Dorian and Rey, pointing between either boy and then back to Soren as if she were some kind of wonky compass. “Hang on. Wait but… isn’t… Soren? He’s not…. Isn’t Soren your dad?”

Low rumbling shook the table from Ashlynn’s right, and she realized it was Soren stifling his laughter. Dorian and Rey both glanced at each other before sputtering and erupting into a fit of laughter of their own. It was as if Ashlynn couldn’t have told a funnier joke to these three. Embarrassment burned a hole through her cheeks and her ears as she looked from person to person in hopes someone – anyone – would offer an explanation.

Finally, it was Rey who spoke up, recovering enough to say something coherent.  

“Soren’s not our dad!” Rey giggled. “He’s our brother!”

Ashlynn was absolutely gob smacked. She looked between the three, waiting for there to be some kind of punch line. When there was none, Soren stepped in and continued Rey’d explanation.

“Yeah, I’m their older brother. We had the same mom, but my dad passed when I was a kid and my mom remarried to their dad, who isn’t in the picture by the way,” said Soren. Ashlynn wasn’t sure what “in the picture” meant, considering there were no cameras or other hanging pictures around, but she focused instead on Soren’s next question. “So, this whole time, did you think I was their dad?”

Ashlynn felt her cheeks burn hotter as she nodded bashfully.

“I… I guess I just thought… and you were so good at taking care of… Never mind,” muttered Ashlynn.

The boys quieted their laughter and refocused on their dinner guest.

“Oh, oh no. I’m sorry Ashlynn,” mumbled Rey.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dorian added. “You didn’t know. We’re sorry.” Soren nodded in acknowledgement, agreeing with both boys. She looked up and saw no malice or taunt hiding in the boys’ faces. It was still embarrassing, but Ashlynn had to admit that she did find it a little funny. All this time, she’d just assumed that Soren was the boys’ father. Little quirks and things he would do, and their similarities and differences could all be explained away with that explanation.

Ashlynn realized a moment later that she was chuckling a little as well. “It’s okay,” she said earnestly. “To be fair, I thought it was weird that you two called Soren by his first name. I should’ve seen it. I’m sorry for assuming.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Soren, his tone and countenance back to normal. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you two need to get to bed if we’re going sledding tomorrow.”

“And then it’s Christmas Eve!” Rey cheered, a little louder than Ashlynn would’ve liked. “Hey, Ashlynn, do you like Christmas? Did you ask Santa for anything? Is… OH! Is Santa like you? You know? Smaller?”

“Rey,” Dorian rolled his eyes, prompting the youngest brother to continue.

“What?! It would make sense. Fits down the chimney. Knows if you’re good or bad. Knows what you want for Christmas. Oh! Like an elf! Like one of Santa’s elves!”

Ashlynn was completely lost by Rey’s words. Santa? Christmas? She recognized the word “elf,” but wasn’t sure if it was a complement or not to be called one.

“You know Santa isn’t real, right?” stated Dorian in his matter-of-fact older sibling authoritarian tone.

“I know! But all of the stories have him normal sized, and maybe they have it wrong! Maybe whoever wrote those books made Santa be big with magic to keep people from looking for littler people living in the walls and floors and stuff. Wait, Ashlynn, you don’t have magic, do you?” asked Rey.

Ashlynn chuckled and shook her head, barely keeping her head above the surface of her swimming thoughts. “No… I don’t have magic. I’m just… me. What’s a ‘Santa’? And Christmas? Is that when you humans put up trees and leave out stuff for longer?”

This made Soren chuckle. “Yeah, basically. Christmas is a bit more than giving gifts though. It’s about celebrating Jesus Christ’s birth and spending time with friends and family remembering what’s important in life.” It was still so far above Ashlynn’s head that she felt like she was on the verge of drowning. At the same time, it made sense. Year after year, she’d seen humans gather together during the cold season for exactly what Soren described.

“Hey, Ashlynn? Could I ask you something next?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn directed her attention to the middle brother and nodded. “Um… you’ve said it a few times, but you’ve called us humans. I know that’s what we are, but then what does that make you? Are you not human?”

“Yeah, you look human. You’re a person, just like us. Is there a difference?” asked Rey. Dorian shot him a look, as if to say that his question should be first, before looking back at Ashlynn. The table once again fell silent, and Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer. Even Soren had directed his focus onto her and only her.

This is one of those questions about who and what I am. I don’t want to answer. It’s not directly asking what I am, but it’s close enough.

“I… I don’t… could you ask something different, please?” asked Ashlynn. Her legs pulled in closer, and it felt like her skin was tingling under the watchful gaze of the three boys. Both Rey and Dorian opened their mouths to protest, but Soren clearing his throat silenced them.

“We’ll have to save those questions for some time later. Now, hop to! Take your dishes to the kitchen and decide who is bathing first. It has to happen for both of you, so decide now. And, Ashlynn, if you don’t want to stay to do dishes, then I’ll wish you a good night,” stated Soren.

Saved!

Ashlynn nodded and smiled at the boys, who obviously looked disheartened that she didn’t want to answer their last question of the night. She crossed her legs and, in one fluid motion, twirled to her feet, earning a few “oohhs” from the boys. She snagged her hook from her hip and approached the ledge when, from behind, she heard Rey’s voice pipe up.

“Um… Ashlynn… do… do you need help? So you don’t have to climb down and back up?” The youngest’s question was genuinely out of concern, though it still made Ashlynn a bit uneasy. Still, he’d showed restraint, much like Dorian, and she was trying to demonstrate a bit of trust for the family of three.

The Borrower also remembered the last time she was in Rey’s hands, injured and ill. Was he looking for a chance to redeem himself? Or did he just want a chance to hold the tiny person again?

“I… um…” The boy’s eyes pleaded that she say “yes.”

“Rey, she might not feel comfortable with that,” stated Soren. The glance out of the corner of his eye was obviously waiting for some kind of confirmation or denial. Either way, it was a way for her to get out of being carried by a child.

But…

Rey was sweet.

He was kind.

It’s okay. I have to… no… I want to give a little. They’re inviting me into their home without anything in return. I don’t owe them anything, but this is something I can do to show the trust they’ve earned.

“It… it’s okay. Just… be careful. No sudden movements. Got it?” Ashlynn’s request was met with the delight of a thousand answered questions. Rey immediately hopped off of his chair and scurried over to the other side of the table where Ashlynn was standing. The child looked eagerly up at Soren, whose silent eye-language spoke volumes. Rey took a few calm breaths before slowly offering his hands for Ashlynn to stand on.

She could see the sauce stained fingers and the glint in those pale blue eyes that usually would’ve warded her away from such an interaction. Instead, she pushed through her discomfort and stepped forward onto Rey’s hand, ignoring the little excited inhale as she stood on his right palm and crouched.

“Over to the counter, please.” Ashlynn’s blood was roaring in her ears. She swallowed dryly as the hand beneath her jostled and Rey, as carefully as he could, shuffled his feet back over to the countertop. It was maybe five feet in total, just under two meters. It was still enough to make Ashlynn appreciate her autonomy and ability to choose.

Rey set her down without grabbing, pinching, tripping, petting, and every other horrible thing Ashlynn thought a child might be capable of. He was beaming and looking proud of himself, and Ashlynn had to admit that despite the age gap that Rey had almost given a smoother ride than Soren when he brought her to the countertop that day.

“Thanks, Rey.”

Ashlynn saw Rey’s entire body vibrate in a kind of full body wag before he replied. “You are so welcome, Ashlynn.”

Soren corralled his brother away from the countertop, Dorian close behind, as he waved goodnight to Ashlynn.

“Take whatever leftovers you’d like, and don’t be a stranger. Goodnight Ashlynn.”

Ashlynn watched the three brothers go, questions forming in her head about the three.

What was the story behind Rey and Dorian’s father? Why did Soren have that look on his face? She’d never seen him look so irritated and stoic with no gleam of care in those golden hazel orbs.

I might have to give some better answers if I want the answer to those questions; which, all in all, might not be a bad thing. Ashlynn thought as she packed up a few little pieces for a snack later and vanished back into the walls.

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story