#but life's busy and the chapter has A Lot of dialogue

[sharkneto]

Patiently waiting for more TUA grown up Five who didn't go to the apocalypse fic update.

thanks for the fic description, i'd forgotten what fic i was writing and not updating around my busy couple months. you've saved the day

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + fifteen

authors note: next chapter will be a lot heavier, because we see shit play out. italicized dialogue indicates that spanish is being spoken.

ya'll better not come for me after this one either, okay! 😭

just know the plot is plotting, ya'll

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, roman being a dick to anyone other than his wife, and violence

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 10k

The newly opened doors of intimacy have awakened a previously dormant part of Solana.

Something she previously thought impossible to access, permanently damaged as a result of her trauma.

But, she was wrong. 

So, so wrong.

Roman is everything she never allowed herself to dream about having, let alone actually hoped to have in real life.

Caring, considerate, gentle, patient.

Their first time together is something she’ll never forget and always cherish. But, it’s the times afterwards, sporadic over the past two days since the consummation, that have almost meant something more.

A testament to her comfort and trust in him.

Of her love for him.

Sitting in bed, in between his legs, leaning into his strong body with nothing but the thin 600 thread count sheets covering them, Solana sketches, no particular drawing in mind, just whatever is felt in that moment. And what’s felt is the image and scenery of the water, of the beauty that is Isla Mujeres. Her mom was right. There’s nothing like it.

“I think—I think I want to come back here sooner rather than later.” Solana finds herself partially wondering aloud but also wanting to pick her husband’s brain. “I know you probably won’t be able to come, and that’s okay. Maybe…maybe Bayley can come with me?” It’s both a suggestion and a question. 

Roman makes a sound against her, his lips lingering along her temple, long fingers moving gently against the side of her breast under the sheets. “Whatever you want, I’ll make happen. Bayley will go with you.”

Solana chews on her bottom lip, shading a palm tree. “But, what if she has plans?”

“She will. Plans to go with you.”

A small smile falls on her face. “How do you know she’ll just agree with you?” Solana has an idea of what he’s going to say, and she’s correct. 

“People do what I tell them to do, and if they don’t, they face the consequences. And no one wants that, so they just do it.” 

She doesn’t doubt that one bit. Because no matter how sweet and caring he is to her, that’s where it stops. With her.

Because to anyone and everyone else, he’s Roman Reigns, ruthless, brutal leader of the Bloodline.

And she’s accepted that. Accepted that he has to juggle two different hats.

She’s just happy she gets the best of him.

“I Facetime’d Naomi today and got to see Dulce.” As much fun as she’s having, as healing as this trip has been for her, she misses her sweet puppy deeply. “Guess who’s taken to her?”

Roman chuckles, looking back with a bit of shock. “Jimmy?”

Solana nods, grinning as she remembers overhearing Jimmy ask about where ‘fluff fluff’ is. “Naomi says he’s even got her sleeping in the bed with them.”

“Well, she damn sure ain’t doing that with us.” His voice takes on an authoritative tone. Not that she’s in disagreement. Dulce is too small for that. Roman would literally smother her. “Our bed is occupied.” He ghosts his lips over the shell of her earlobe. “Gonna be real busy when we get back home….”

Solana tries instead to focus on the drawing at hand versus that familiar feeling pooling in her stomach. 

Continuing with the topic in the hopes of settling that feeling, she shares, “I want to do something nice for Naomi and Bayley when we get back. They’ve—they’ve been so nice to me.”

It’s something she’s been thinking about ever since the beautiful birthday messages she’s received. Having never really had many friends, to be able to land such solid, loyal people like them is something she doesn’t take lightly. She doesn’t know quite yet how she wants to show her appreciation, but she’s determined to come up with something.

An idea crossing her mind, Solana suggests, “maybe they both can come stay here with me for a week?”

His mouth moves back to the side of her face. “Mmmhmm.”

“Like…..like a girls trip.” Solana has never experienced one of those and just the thought of having one with the two of them has pre-excitement already forming.

Roman sighs, clearly distracted by his lips exploring her face. “Whatever you want, baby.”

Turning her head to the side to look up at him, small smile on her face, Solana asks, “are you listening to me?”

Roman hums against her skin. “I’m always listening to you, Solana.” Her eyes flutter as his fingers shift and move under the generous swell of her breast. “Probably the only person that’s the case for…..” His mouth moves to her cheek. “But, it’s hard to focus with you naked like this…..”

The pencil in her hand naturally drops against the sketchbook, her head lolling backwards, lips pressing together. “Roman….” 

This is such a new experience. She’s never desired to be touched or craved such intimacy until Roman. Even with her trauma, there’s a pull that seems to have been unleashed with the consummation of her marriage.

An urge that has her thighs pressing together, something Roman most definitely takes note of. Eyes darkening with lust and something else, he asks, voice almost hoarse, “are you sore?”

She is, but not nearly as sore as she was after their first time. And certainly not to the point where she wants to decline.

“No,” is the answer she settles on, Roman’s lips on hers in a matter of seconds. She shifts her body so she’s straddling him, the feeling of him hard and warm between her legs making her moan in his mouth. Roman easily switches positions so she’s on her back, him hovering over her. 

He breaks the kiss, asking once more, “you sure?”

Solana licks her lips, forever thankful for his constant efforts to receive her consent. “Yes.”

His eyes burn with need. “Could be inside you like this all day….” He brings his hand to the back of her thigh, lifting her leg and opening her up more as he gradually descends into her slick warmth. “And definitely all night….”

Solana would be lying if she said she didn’t feel somewhat of the same way.

________

She wakes up with a growing familiar ache between her legs, soft sheets against her nude body, and her husband pressed against her, his arm draped over her, holding her close to him.

But, he’s not sleeping. She can feel his mouth hovering over her shoulder. Her smile grows a bit as she thinks about their last lovemaking session, so passionate and fulfilling. Another round of him giving her pleasure she didn’t think possible.

However, it’s when she glances at the clock and sees the time, her eyes widen a bit from the shock. “Roman, it’s almost 2 o’clock….”

He’s never been more uninterested. “And?” Lips traveling the length of her arm, he murmurs against her smooth skin. “You’d never leave this bed if it was up to me….”

His statement, half joking, half serious, makes her smile, but it also helps her realize she has to be a bit more outspoken about what she wants.

Holding the sheet against her chest, she rolls onto her back, informing, “I want to go out to the marketplace today.”

He scowls. “Around people?” 

“Yes, people.” She giggles, moving her hand to his face, beard tickling her palm. “We only have two more days here. I want to bring back gifts for Naomi, Bayley, and your cousins”

It’s the mention of the twins that makes him roll his eyes as he falls back into the mattress. “You always trying to take care of the homeless.”

Solana giggles, hovering over him, hand on his chest. “That’s so mean, Roman. They’re not homeless.”

“Then why the hell are they always at our house?”

She shakes her head, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “I’m gonna go get ready.” 

He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t prevent her from leaving the bed and doing just that.

And in less than two hours, both showered, fed, and dressed, they’re out of the house and on their way to the market.

Adolfo López Mateos is the municipal market and offers a trove of items for Solana to pick from. Countless authentic options for her to bring back home as gifts but also as souvenirs for herself, reminders of this wonderful place that will forever hold such beautiful memories for her.

A place that also leaves her feeling so connected to her maternal side. 

To her mother.

Roman serves as the quiet, always surveying husband who remains by her side the whole time as she goes from stall to stall. He serves as her personal shopping assistant as well, holding the growing number of bags for her purchases.

But, he handles it exceptionally well, never once complaining. Granted, she is mindful of the fact that the crowded market and all of the fellow shoppers and merchants seem to well exceed his tolerance for people in general.

So, she does make note to try to wrap it up sooner rather than later.

She’d never want to take advantage of his kindness and generosity.

Solana is at a stall looking at fabric when stiffening beside her drags her attention to her husband as well as what’s caused him to tense. 

A child.

A little girl. Around 8 or 9. She has dark hair that’s down and unruly, the light breeze in the market causing it to splash against her tanned face, hazel eyes landed directly on Roman. Her hand is outreached, a flower in hand. 

Solana recognizes it rather quickly. She steps forward, asking in Spanish, “is that for him?”

The little girl looks over and nods, directing her gaze back on Roman. Solana does the same, small smile on her face as she informs. “She’s giving it to you.” 

His expression is unchanged as he asks. “Why?”

Solana giggles. “It’s an Alstroemeria. They represent friendship.”

“This random ass kid wants to be my friend?”

Solana rolls her eyes. “She’s being friendly.” Seeing Roman has no intentions on further acknowledging this child, she gently shoves him. “Please?” The ‘for me?’ doesn’t need to be asked as Roman sighs loudly and accepts the flower followed up with a muttered ‘thanks.’

Pleased, the little girl beams, suddenly motioning both Roman and Solana to follow her.

Curious, Solana asks, “you want us to come?” 

She nods excitedly, pointing a few stalls down to where flowers bloom. Solana asks, “That’s where you got these from? You want us to see the rest?”

Another nod, and Solana finds herself following the child, Roman begrudgingly on the heel of her, committed to his not allowing her to explore a stretch of land or sea on this trip without him being right there next to her.

Even if it means forced socialization. 

Solana allows the child to guide them to the stall that’s filled with the most beautiful, intricate flowers she’s ever seen, some of which she recognizes from conversations with her mom.

“Look how beautiful…..” Her eyes land on the powder pink ones, a brief realization setting in as she asks the little girl, “are these sword lily’s?” 

Again, the child offers only a nonverbal acknowledgement via a head nod, and Solana starts to wonder if her silence is by choice or limitation. Either one, she can kind of relate to. 

Turning to Roman, Solana explains to him, “these are sword lilly’s. They represent sympathy and memories.” Memories…Solana has plenty of those. The good, to some extent, starting to outweigh the bad.

He looks more uninterested than the actual tone of his voice. “Do all Mexican flowers have some sort of meaning?”

“Some. Not all.” She answers, fingers gliding over the petals. “And it’s not always flowers native to Mexico, just flowers that we have meaning attributions for. Culturally.”

“You are correct.” A voice enters the conversation, Solana watching a woman step out back from behind the stall. Her hair is a deep onyx, thick and wavy, her skin lightly kissed by the sun that also highlights the beauty of her eyes. Fine lines give away that she has some years under her belt, but it’s hard to tell just how many. She switches languages, “You don’t speak Spanish like a tourist.”

Solana realizes she must have overheard her asking the girls about the flowers. “My—my mother was a Native.”

“She taught you well.” Her smile grows, warm and friendly, familiar in a weird sort of way. “What is your name, child?”

“Solana.” She gestures towards Roman who’s still looking just as uninterested as he’s been in any other type of social interaction outside of Solana. “This is my husband, Roman.”

“I figured.” She motions to Roman’s closeness to her, the way he stays almost hovering, protecting and caring but still pretty close. “He’s very protective of you.

Solana nods. She has no idea. “What is your name?”

“Paloma,” she introduces, removing one of her work gloves to shake Solana’s hand. The younger woman is slightly grateful that Paloma doesn’t try to greet Roman in the same manner. She’d surely get her feelings hurt. “What brings you here?

Again, a gesture to Roman with her thumb. “He surprised me for my birthday.”

Paloma makes a sound and smiles wryly. “Ahh, so it’s only others he’s unfriendly with.”

“He….he’s very quiet.” An ironic choice of words considering just who is saying them, but it’s the best word to come to mind to describe Roman without being mean. He is technically quiet, but the fact that it’s because he, in his own words, hates people isn’t necessarily something that needs to be shared. “Do you really grow all of these?”

“I do.” The proud smile on her face makes Solana smile just as warmly. “I own a nursery about twenty minutes out of here. A family business that my mother and her mother and her mother started generations ago.”

“That’s so beautiful.”

“It was….” The use of past tense causes Solana’s smile to dim a bit. She can sense there’s a story there, a story that no doubt holds some level of pain. Paloma shakes her head, gesturing to the flowers. “Were you wanting to buy any?”

“Uhhhh….” The technical answer is no. Solana would have probably stopped to admire the beautiful flowers, maybe tried to identify one or two, but it would not have gone beyond that. It’s the little girl who Solana realizes is behind the stand, poorly sneaking glances at Roman, who called them over. “Yes, I—”

“She brought you over, didn’t she?” 

“Yes.” Solana lowers her voice, asking as gently as she can. “Does she speak?”

“Yes, but she prefers not to. Very shy. Parents fight a lot. I don’t think she really gets a lot of space to talk.” And the frown is back. Solana can definitely understand that. “Do you two have plans tonight?”

“Uhhhh.” Solana turns to Roman, asking, “did you have anything else planned for us this evening?”

“If she’s trying to get us to do something around other people, yes. I’ll find something.”

Solana rolls her eyes, lightly scolding in her soft voice, “Roman, that’s not nice.”

“Solana, I’m pretty sure we had this conversation already. I don’t like people. I hate people. You’re the only one I like.”

Solana decides to win him over later versus now as she turns to Paloma with a friendly expression that contrasts her husband’s scowl. Something tells her he already knows she’s about to sign them up for something that forces him to be around people. 

“We’re free this evening. Why do you ask?”

________

“Tell me again why we’re meeting this random ass old woman for dinner?”

Solana is only seconds away from applying her lip gloss when Roman’s question deters her from her task, creating a new one in its place. Capping it, she walks out the bathroom, leaning against the doorway. “Her name is Paloma, and she’s really sweet, and she invited us.”

Turns out, Paloma owns one of the restaurants in town Solana remembers stumbling across when she was perusing other places to visit while on their trip. It’s just a crazy coincidence that Solana ended up running into her and receiving a personal invite to dine there for dinner this evening. 

And it’s an offer she didn’t want to turn down. 

“Are you sure she didn’t just invite you?”

Curious, she asks the question she’s almost certain she already knows the answer to. “Would you let me go by myself?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly.” Walking over to Roman, Solana glides her hands up his chest, locking them behind his neck. “It’s just a dinner. We won’t even be there that long. Then…tomorrow, it’s just the two of us.”

“It could be the two of us tonight too….”

His fingers dance across the small of her back as she bites back a smile. “Roman, it’s been the two of us this entire trip already, basically….”

“You know I could never get enough of you…” He gently squeezes the sides of her stomach, sliding into reluctant acquiescence. “But, you know I can’t say no to you either so….”

She smiles and leans up and presses a kiss against his cheek, murmuring, “thank you.” Taking a bit of a mile with the inch she’s been given, she implores, “can you….try to be a little more friendly? For me?”

Roman looks at her like she just asked him to let her go alone. “Solana….”

“Just for tonight.”

“Do they even speak English?” She gives him a look that’s just another form of ‘for me?’ He tilts his head back and scratches his beard. “I’ll try not to maim or kill anybody. That’s the best you’re getting from me, baby.”

“Thank you.” She kisses him again, turning for the bathroom when he pulls her back to face him, and right away, she recognizes that look. “Roman….”

He ignores her, both casually and suggestively complimenting, “I like this dress.” It’s combined with him slowly moving one of the hands on her waist down the length of her dress until he can slip his hand underneath.

“T–thank you…” She swallows, struggling to stay focused. “We’re—we’re gonna be late.”

“Too bad.” He moves his hand between her legs, gradually sliding up her thighs. “Should have thought about that before you put this on.” He kisses her temple, asking in a low voice, “do you want me to stop?” At the same time, his hand pauses on her skin.

The logical answer is yes, but the carnal answer is the complete opposite. And desire seems to overpower logic in this round. “N–no.”

It’s the perfect answer for her husband whose full lips form into a smirk as he removes his hand to guide her towards the bed as he lays her on her back. Solana half expects him to move on top of her, but he instead moves to his knees and tugs her toward the edge of the bed.

The anticipation of what pleasure is to come makes her lick her lips, prematurely moaning his name, “Roman…”

His brown eyes flick up to her, desire and lust dancing away in his irises. 

Yeah, they’re most definitely going to be late.

________

The night goes as expected, Solana enjoying herself, and Roman enjoying that his wife is enjoying herself despite the fact that being surrounded by a bunch of fucking strangers who speak mostly in Spanish has him subtly checking the time on his watch more often than not.

The desire to pick up the language grows exponentially. Roman dislikes being out of the loop in any sort of capacity.

Solana translates for the most part, granted it’s mostly things he doesn’t really care too much about. Paloma asking what he thought about the food, requests to join in the dancing—that’s a hell no—and other pleasantries that violate his religion of Anti-Peopleology. 

Except his wife, of course.

And to be fair, they’re able to share their dinner together without many interruptions, conversation staying between the two of them, which he appreciates. He’d appreciate it more if no one was there to interrupt, but alas, Solana having a smile on her face almost the whole night makes it all worth it.

She seems exceptionally taken with the little random ass girl from the market whose name he doesn’t bother to remember. Something with an A, he’d guess. She also seems just as interested in Solana, which he doesn’t entirely not understand. She’s relatively mute with the exception of a couple of words and sentences.

It reminds him of Solana and how nonverbal she was at the beginning of the marriage. And something tells him the girl also reminds her of herself. Which makes the pull between the two make more sense than maybe he’d like to admit.

But, his inner dialogue is interrupted as the old lady approaches the table where he sits alone as Solana dances with the child, both of them smiling and laughing. 

“You’re not the social one of the two of you, are you?” She asks what he considers both a stupid and ironic question. Typically, Solana isn’t this social either. But this….this place….it seems to bring out a different side of her.

A happier side of her.

Roman only casts the old woman a bored glance. “This is her world. Not mine.”

The woman chuckles, and to Roman’s chagrin, sits down in the chair opposite of him. “Yes, I suppose this is very different from the Bloodline.”

Her statement doesn’t surprise him, doesn’t take him off guard, and that’s because Roman isn’t stupid. He would never allow some practical stranger to invite his wife for dinner at a restaurant she owns without researching her. 

Paloma Aguilar. 70. Widowed. One child who seemingly disappeared without a trace over twenty years ago. Her late husband, Ricardo, was a man who at one point entered the world of the cartel and smuggling, but it was short lived as he passed away from a heart attack at the age of 45. His brother, however, Tomas, is still actively involved, but Paloma couldn’t be farther removed.

From his research, Roman could see she truly prefers to live her life away from the in-laws business, preferring her restaurant and gardening, the polar opposite of the high-paced crime life. 

But, it would be ludicrous for her to not be aware of him and who he is, regardless of her preference to stay separate from that life.

Curious, though he already knows the answer, he asks, “when did you realize who I was?”

She smiles, “soon enough.” The lack of specificity annoys him even more than he already is. “Probably around the time you found out who I am.”

Interested to see how she’ll respond, he asks, “and just who are you?”

Her smile is small and sad. “Just an old woman living out the rest of her days in solitude.” Roman has experienced enough loss to be able to recognize when someone else has also had the misfortune of losing someone. It’s evident in her tone. 

Still, that doesn't diminish his disinterest in this conversation.

She also looks over at his dancing wife, casually commenting, “I suppose it’s true that opposites attract.”

Eager to stir this woman away, Roman responds with all the casualness. “I’m not Solana. You could be 90, and I’d still snap your fucking neck if you presented any kind of threat to my wife.”

It’s uncalled for. He knows this. A misplaced threat against an elderly woman, sure. But, it’ll hopefully be enough to get her to leave him the fuck alone. 

She smiles, partially surprising him. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, young man.” Her grin dims a bit. “I would never judge a man for protecting the woman he loves.”

Roman tenses, effectively managing to keep his reaction to her statement to himself.

Love

What the fuck is that even?

He knows…..familial love. But….romantic love? 

That’s….that’s such an unfamiliar concept. Something not even in his repertoire. 

He can’t deny that he likes Solana. A lot. Cares for her deeply, and recognizes that he needs her in his life. Needs her light in what is otherwise dark and dreary.

But…..

To say that he loves her….that’s too much. That’s too strong.

Too dangerous.

Love is weakness.

And Roman can’t afford to be weak. He won’t. Not for anything or anyone. 

Not even Solana.

But, of course, this old ass woman just has to twist the knife even deeper as she stands up to leave. “You two will make great parents.” Roman is an expert at hiding reactions to what’s being said to him, but this one takes some effort. A lot, if he’s being honest. “Your protectiveness. Her nurturance.”

With that, she finally leaves him be, but not without a million and one thoughts floating through his mind, all of them now revolving around two things he’s never considered for himself.

Love and children.

________

As the night comes to an end, Solana pulls Aurora, the sweet little girl who’s taken a liking to her and a crush on Roman, to the side. 

“I have something for you.”

Aurora’s eyes light up with all the excitement of a child eager to receive an unexpected present.

Solana hands over the beautiful journal she picked up in the market earlier that day. Originally a gift for herself, but now something that she wants to pass on to the little girl who reminds her so much of herself. 

Aurora’s mouth drops open with surprise as she accepts the leather journal. Solana smiles and explains, “When I was a little girl, I didn’t talk a lot either. But, my mom always told me that when I couldn’t speak, I could always write.” She frowns a bit, instructing. “And that’s what I did. I wrote until I found my voice. The same way you can.”

Aurora looks up with teary eyes and surprises Solana by attacking her with a big hug. Solana easily settles in the embrace, holding and hugging the little girl in a way that every child should be comforted.

Aurora pulls back and offers a simple, “thank you!”

Solana blinks back some tears. “You’re very welcome.” Her smile shifts into something teasing but also hopeful, “now I expect to see you when I come back to visit, okay?”

Aurora nods happily as she gives Solana one more hug before running over to an older woman who Solana would guess is her mother.

“She’ll never forget that, you know.” 

Turning to the source of the voice, Solana’s smile grows. “I hope not.”

Paoma chuckles and moves closer, repeating the same words. “I have something for you too.”

She pulls out a cloth jewelry bag and takes Solana’s hand, placing the bag in it. “Open it.”

Confused but curious, Solana does just that and gasps almost immediately at the beautiful gold necklace she recognizes instantly. “A Cruz de Caravaca.”

Paloma looks pleased by Solana’s knowledge and asks a follow up question. “How much do you know about these?”

Swallowing the emotion, she recalls the information taught to her so long ago. “They—they ward off evil and bring protection.” There’s an almost bitter tone that enters her voice. “My mother had one….” It’s the most Solana can bring herself to say, because her mother wore one almost religiously. And it did nothing to protect her from the evil of her father.

Or the knife that viciously tore and sliced through her body, violently ending her life. 

Paloma nods, complementing, “whoever taught you our ways taught you well.” 

Emotion burning the back of the throat, “it was my mom. She—she died when I was young.” Murdered. She was murdered, but acknowledging that feels too much, is too much. Regardless of how her life ended, it all means the same.

That she’s not here anymore.

Paloma’s expression is solemn as she lifts her right arm, turning it inward, revealing her tattoos. Two Hummingbirds. “Many years ago, I lost my daughter. And shortly after, my husband. I—I didn’t really know how to go on after that. She was my only child, and he was the only man I ever loved.” Her smile is emotional. “But then I remember that love never dies, it transcends into another form. They’re not here in the way I want them to be, but they’re still here. And every so often when I’m in my garden, I see Hummingbirds, and I feel better because I know they’re still with me. Watching over me.” 

Solana wipes at her eyes as Paloma places a comforting hand on her arm. “And so is your mother.”

It’s hard to verbalize what she’s feeling in this moment. Paloma’s words provide her with a type of comfort that feels almost motherly, an ironic feeling considering the nature of the conversation.

“Thank you.” It’s such a simple thing that doesn’t feel strong enough for how much Solana appreciates such comforting words of support. 

“You have a good heart. A kind soul. But, be careful child.” She takes Solana’s hands in her own. “My….my daughter was like you. Loving and giving. But too trusting, and it cost her her life. Betrayal and darkness can come from where you least expect it.” 

Paloma’s words confuse her. The warning aspect of it. What…what exactly does that mean?

“Stick with that husband of yours….” Paloma adds, smile gradually returning. “He is protective of you the way my husband used to be with me.” 

That ebbs away some of her confusion regarding the ominous warning, as Solana suddenly asks, almost tentatively. “Could I….could I come back and see you too?”

Paloma chuckles, and Solana almost swears she sees emotion brewing behind the woman’s wise gaze as she pulls her in for a hug.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t, child….”

________

He’s not entirely surprised to find her in the kitchen, but that doesn’t necessarily make her presence in the kitchen any less concerning. Especially when she’s supposed to be on bedrest.

Roman comes up behind her, smiling when she jumps a bit as he hugs her. Years later, some things remain the same. 

Solana turns around, a warm smile on her pretty face. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” Not necessarily. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to find it in him to be sorry for touching his wife.“Hi.”

“Hi.” She giggles as he kisses her. 

Eyes shutting a bit as he relishes in the feeling he’s craved dearly for the past few weeks. “I missed you all.”

“We missed you too,” she murmurs, moving her hands up his chest. “You look tired.”

He’s a bit jet lagged, but it’s nothing he won’t bounce back from in a couple of days. That’s the least of his concern, anyway. Roman moves his hand to her stomach, big and swollen, pressing against his abs. “You should be resting.”

Solana rolls her eyes and calmly counters, “not with how active this one is.” She moves his hand around, probably trying to find a spot where he can feel the movement. “He’s definitely your son.”

He counters, “even more reason to be resting.” 

She shakes her head, changing the subject a bit as she softly shares, “they’ll be happy to see you. I didn’t tell them you were coming home early.”

His eyes light up a bit as he asks, “where are they?”

Solana chuckles. “You already know.”

Roman makes a sound and nods, murmuring with a final kiss to her temple, “I’ll be back.” 

He walks out of the kitchen and into the hall, moving to the back of the house.

Two separate rooms, directly across from one another, each providing a variety of different activities and spaces. Most completely opposite one another. Expected, given their staunchly different personalities.

There’s no active decision regarding which room he walks in first, no specific desire to see or interact with one over the other. He just so happens to venture left vs right. 

And sure enough, as predicted, she sits at the table, so small but perfect for her. She’s focused on the paper in front of her and crayon in her hand. So focused to the point where she misses his entrance, doesn’t overhear his footsteps until he’s only a few feet away from her.

But when she does, big brown eyes landing on him, eyes that are exact replicas of her mothers, the crayon is dropped and the smile is out. She jumps up from the seat and runs over to him, Roman leaning down just in time to catch her hug, an instant ease washing over him, deeper than what’s allotted even with his wife.

This is something different, something deeper, something he still doesn’t quite know or believe he deserves to feel. But nevertheless, it’s present, it’s felt, and it’s wonderful.

When she pulls away, he finds himself pushing back some of her curls, light and fluffy, framing her face that’s the perfect combination of himself and Solana. “I missed you…” Her smile grows as he asks, eyes narrowed a bit. “Were you a good girl for your mom while I was gone?” She nods excitedly and reaches for his hand, Roman standing as she guides him over to the table where she was drawing. Roman crouches back down as she shares her artwork, an in-progress photo of the ocean, most likely scenery she’s memorized from one of their many trips to Isla Mujeres. “Is this what you’re working on?” Again, another nod as she points between the drawing and him. He points to himself. “Is this gonna be for me?”

Instead of the expected no, she answers in her voice, so soft and light. “I’m sorry it wasn’t done in time….”

A small smile grows on his face. She’s very much unlike her sister, of very few words. So much so that Roman insisted he and Solana discuss her quietness with the pediatrician to make sure nothing was wrong. And of course, nothing was. It’s just that she inherited quite literally Solana’s entire disposition. Quiet with a great big heart that seems too pure for this world.

And, unfortunately, a tendency to apologize when unnecessary.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.” His praise seems to bring back her smile as he kisses her forehead. “Fa'afetai tele.”

She matches his smile, surprising him yet again with more spoken words vs non verbals. “E le afaina.” 

Standing back up, he informs, “I’m gonna go see your sister. Can you go help mom finish cooking dinner?” He knows Solana is almost done, if not already, but Roman also knows that personality and disposition weren’t the only things inherited. So were passions and interests, hence the drawing.

And cooking, judging by the way her eyes light up as she dashes out the room to play assistant.

Roman chuckles and walks out, hitting the switch as he moves across the hall, once again unsurprised by what he finds. She’s going at it with the freestanding punching bag, kicks that are pretty impressive considering her age. Her face is scrunched up in determination, the same face as her sisters yet so different. 

Where one is soft and quiet, the other is loud and bold. One is timid, the other adventurous. One is Solana, but this one….she’s her father’s daughter, through and through. Bold and fearless. 

“Don’t forget to point your toes.”

His deep voice breaks through her concentration as she whips her head to the side, a reaction similar to her twin sister. A huge smile breaks through that impressive focus.

“Daddy!”

Again, he moves to one knee to catch her for a hug, tight and heartwarming. She pulls back almost immediately, asking with all the excitement. “Did you see me?”

“I sure did.” He comments on what’s more than obvious. “you’ve been practicing.”

She nods with just as much excitement. “Aunt Bayley and Aunt Naomi said I’m really good!”

“You are.” He wouldn’t lie to her. She is. But, he also knows it’s because this is her passion. Where her sister finds joy in art and books, she gets that joy from movement, from fighting, her gravitation towards martial arts happening at such a young age. 

“I’m gonna be better than you!” He chuckles. At not even a fraction of his age, she already is. And it has nothing to do with her natural fighting abilities. 

“We’ll see.”

“I am!” She affirms, so determined and focused. “I’m gonna wear the ula fala and be Tribal Chief just like you, daddy!”

Roman does his best to keep that small ounce of concern hidden and tucked away. Young. She’s too young to know just what she’s asking for, the weight that comes with what he does, the truth about what and who he is.

It’s been the decision of both himself and Solana to shield the girls from it. The truth of it all. For now. As long as they can, at least. But the girls aren’t dumb either, they know he holds a high rank, one of the highest, in his family.

And his spitfire of a daughter seems determined to do the exact same.

“Cousin Jamar was saying I can’t cause I’m a girl, but I told him he’s just a stupid boy and I’m way smarter anyway.”

Roman’s eyes narrow slightly as asks the question he already knows the answer to. “And you hit him too, didn’t you?”

Even when he has to be away from home, Solana makes sure to keep him informed of all happenings with the girls, especially this one who’s already gotten in trouble a couple of times at school for her mouth.

And fist.

Her eyes drop as she pouts slightly, murmuring, “he made me mad….” His temper. She definitely has inherited that too. “No one talks about me, you, mommy, sissy or my new baby brother, or I’ll punch them in their face.”

This is the part where Roman struggles, where he tries his best to tap into that part of him that feels so unfamiliar. Because his initial response is that she did nothing wrong, that she’s doing exactly what she’s entitled to.

Protecting her family and standing up for what she believes is right. 

“It’s important to know when to fight, and it’s a lot harder not to sometimes.” That’s the best he can come up with in the moment to not necessarily let her know he doesn’t see much of an issue with her behavior. “I’ll teach you.”

Her eyes light up with excitement. “I get to train with you?” A request she’s had for at least the past two years, Roman pushing it off and allowing Bayley and Naomi to help her because his level of training is far too intense for her young age.

But

That doesn’t mean he can’t modify his approach a bit. 

“Yes!” She jumps up and down, hugging him, another small smile on Roman’s face. Some kids like to play dolls, like his other daughter, but this one….this one lives for a good fight.

And speaking of, the calmer of the two of them coming running into the room, Roman turning just in time as she smiles and tugs on his shirt, motioning for them to follow her.

“Is dinner ready?” Learning to understand her even with the absence of speech has come second nature for all of them. 

She nods, as the other one breaks the hug with Roman, asking her twin with all the excitement and competitiveness. “Wanna race?”

Roman already knows the answer, watching as his more quiet child is suddenly waiting for her sister to count them off. Seconds later, the two of them rush out the room on a trajectory that’ll lead to Solana who will no doubt chastise them for running in the house.

But they come back, giggling together as they stand in the doorway, hitting him with both a question and a demand. 

“Daddy, are you coming?”

“Daddy, wake up!”

Roman shoots up from the bed, hulking shoulders moving up and down in sync with his heavy breathing. Movement to the side of him shows him Solana shifting in her sleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

It’s the exact opposite of how he feels. 

Moving his hand through his silky, wavy locks, Roman takes the blanket off of him and carefully moves out the bed, prioritizing not disturbing his wife. 

He blows out a breath and walks out the double doors that bring him to the patio, his big body settling down on one of the chaise lounges.

It’s only then he asks himself the burning question at the back of his mind.

What the fuck was that?

Roman doesn’t really dream a lot, and when he does, they’re more along the lines or nightmares.

Night terrors when he was younger.

But this……he doesn’t even know what the fuck that was.

Children.

Roman has never really seen himself as a father, never allowed himself to think about it because it’s never really been a desire. He’s always known that he would have to create an heir to carry on his legacy, but that’s a thing of duty. Not desire.

So why the fuck is he dreaming about having not one but several children with Solana?

Solana….

Her oath a few weeks back of giving him an heir returns to the front of his mind. It makes him wonder all of sudden what her view on children is. Does she want children? Without inside knowledge of her trauma, one would think that’s an obvious thing. She would have never married him, never agreed to the arrangement when the sole purpose of the union was to create a child if she didn’t, in fact, want a child. 

But, Roman knows her, knows her trauma. Knows that she was forced into this.

Which makes him incapable of shooting down the possibility that maybe she doesn’t even want children?

And then he thinks about her tonight, thinks about the permanent smile on her face as she interacted with that little girl, the way she interacted with several of the children present who came up to her.

She looked….she looked happy. 

Content.

And of course, the now haunting words of the old woman who Solana also seems to have heavily gravitated towards: 

“You two will make great parents.”

Thinking about and being completely honest with himself, he sees it for Solana. Could….could see her as a mother.

But seeing himself as a father….that’s something he can’t answer. Can’t understand, really. 

The same way he can’t understand why there’s a small part of him that’s upset he woke up.

Upset that the dream didn’t last just a little bit longer. 

Upset that he’s now thinking heavily about what the old lady predicted.

Himself and Solana as parents. 

Fuck.

First the love comment, now this?

Damn that old woman.

________

Something is off with Roman.

Solana has noticed it ever since the night of the dinner at Paloma’s restaurant. She figured it was maybe because Roman really can only withstand so much social interaction. Chalked it up to him needing the night to sleep it off.

But, it was there the next day and the day after that and even as their trip in Isla Mujeres came to an end. 

On the jet ride back home, he’s quiet, working diligently on his work laptop. She tries her best not to think too much of it, because it’s not like he’s ignoring her. He still talks to her, still interacts with her, still touches her, but it’s just….off.

There’s like this….this distance that she can’t understand.

A distance that hurts. 

It’s why she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to not get too into her head over her dress. It’s probably the most risqué thing she’s ever worn, more skin showing than she would prefer to be exposed. But, a small part of her hopes it will catch Roman’s attention.

Hopes it can progress the touches into something more.

Because along with his distant behavior, there’s been a lack of intimacy between them. And that’s especially hard for her to not think too much about. Because, to her, it was going well. She….she enjoys being with him in that way. Being that close to him.

She thought he did too.

Roman suddenly knocks on the bathroom door, asking, “you almost—damn.” Him stopping himself puts a smile on her face. 

Solana chews on her bottom lip, asking, “do–do you like it?” She then motions to her chest that’s heavily exposed. “I know it’s—it’s a lot.”

Roman moves closer to her, eyes raking over her slowly, hand moving to the back of her, under her dress, cupping her ass. “You sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?” A small smile starts to form on her face at his suggestive tone. “The two of us…naked.”

Her stomach flutters with excitement. This is the first time in days that he’s expressed any desire to be with her in that way, and now she’s beyond grateful that she pushed past her insecurity and put on the dress. Because it’s brought out that side of him that she’s been missing.

The side that makes her feel like he wants her.

A hand on his chest, she murmurs, “when we get back.”

Because while she also has a desire to be intimate with him, she’s also excited to see their friends.

Naomi, Bayley, and the twins inviting her (and naturally, Roman) out to a VIP lounge to have a belated birthday celebration since she wasn’t available to do anything with them for her actual birthday. She’s excited to see them, to be around her friends. 

“Are you….” Solana doesn't know where exactly it comes from, the bravery and confidence to ask what she’s about to, but it seems to leave her mouth before she can really think too much about it. “Are you okay?”

His gaze takes a curious tone. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, suddenly nervous about how to word it right. “I don’t know. You’ve just seemed….kinda off the past couple days.” He swallows, and she sees something flash in his eyes, something he shoves away. Something she’s now just as curious about. “Is–”

“I’m fine,” he answers. For some reason, she has a hard time believing that. “Adjusting to being back has just been irritating. I’ve never taken a vacation before, so shit has just been an annoying adjustment.”

Solana nods, believing there could be some truth to that. She doesn’t doubt it’s been an adjustment for him. But, there’s also this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that there’s something else he’s not telling her.

“O-okay.” Something tells her this conversation will need to be revisited, just not right now. Not when it’s clear he has no desire to express whatever is really bothering him.

Roman dips his head and kisses her cheek. “Let’s get out of here. The sooner we get back, the sooner I can be inside you.” She giggles, gasping as he slaps her ass. 

“Roman!”

________

The lounge is beautiful. Reminiscent of an upscale club, minus the packed bodies and loud music. It’s clearly geared toward upscale clientele, and the second level of the lounge has been rented out, space cleared for their small party.

Something she greatly appreciates. Both for herself and Roman. Her husband already sacrificed so much of his preference to be isolated from others vs surrounded by people on their trip. 

The group separates naturally, Roman and the twins with Solana sitting near Bayley and Naomi, the two women nearly bursting at the seams with a ton of questions/statements.

“How was it?”

“We already know it was nice considering we barely heard from you.”

“Dulce mama was out here living her best life.”

“You got a lil tan too!”

“We want to know everything.”

Solana giggles, shrugging. “It was really nice.”

Bayley scoffs, “just nice? Girl, you gotta give us more than that.”

Solana opens her mouth, pausing a bit. “I mean….we spent a lot of time together.” Her eyes fall over to Roman who’s surprisingly engaging in conversation with Jimmy and Jey. Solo, as well. His presence surprised her. 

She didn’t know he was coming. Not to mention, she didn’t think he’d want to be present for anything that’s not required when it comes to her.

“And?”

Solana knows they’re not intentionally asking about sex, but their questions are unintentionally pointing her to share just that. And for some reason, most likely the trust and bond she’s formed with them, she’s not opposed.

That doesn’t stop the maddening blush from forming on her cheeks as she shares, “we—well, we finally, umm—”

Loud gasps interrupt her, Naomi being the one to ask the infamous question, “Solana, did ya’ll….” Solana chews on her bottom lip, nodding softly.

Bayley and Naomi have to cover their mouths to hold in the screams that would no doubt draw all of the wrong attention.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Bayley exclaims, suddenly asking with all the protectiveness, “he was good to you, right? Didn’t pressure you—”

“No. No. Never.” That’s probably the easiest thing to answer. Solana doesn’t know how to properly express how good Roman was to her. Has been to her. “He was—it was perfect.”

Naomi smirks, playfully nudging Solana’s shoulder. “We told you it was great with the right person.” They couldn’t have been more right. “So….was it just once or—”

Bayley scoffs. “We cannot be asking her all these intimate details!” Only to then casually ask, “so like how big is his dick really?”

Naomi falls out laughing while Solana’s eyes widen at the graphic nature of Bayley’s question. 

“So you can ask about his dick size, but I can’t ask about how many times they’ve done it?”

Bayley protests, sipping some of her Vodka as she counters, “my question is for science.”

“Bullshit!” 

Solana shakes her head, giggling as she coyly answers, “we…it’s been a couple times.”

Naomi smirks. “Okay, girl, I see you. Ya’ll went to Mexico and got freaky.” Solana takes a sip of her bottled water, more than certain her cheeks are a red, hot mess. “Seriously though….I’m happy for you. With what you’ve been through, you deserve to have a happy, healthy, sex life. Every woman does.”

“She’s right.” Bayley agrees, and Solana finds the emotions brewing again. 

Never did she think it was possible, that she could have just that. A healthy sex life. Just how she never imagined she would end up with someone as amazing as Roman. Yet both of those things are exactly what have happened, and she’s never been happier. 

“Wait, does this mean we’re gonna be godmothers soon?” Bayley asks an otherwise normal question that has Solana still in her seat. 

Naomi chimes, “I mean, she’s not allowed to be on birth control, and I know Roman had to have broken his condom only rule since they’re married so….”

Solana has a hard time saying anything, has a hard time not thinking about something that should have been considered the moment that barrier was broken.

Roman and Solana have consummated their marriage.

They’ve had sex. 

Several times.

Unprotected sex.

They are actively having unprotected sex.

Naomi is right in that not once did Roman bring up protection. 

It has her wondering now if he didn’t bring it up because, in his mind, they’re now working on creating an heir?

But, she dispels that theory pretty quickly, remembering how determined he was to help her not feel any pressure regarding them conceiving a child. He’s never seemed too concerned with that part of their marriage deal.

Unless….

Unless it was because they weren’t sexually active, but now that they are….

Suddenly, another conversation with Roman regarding just what the plan is for that is on the agenda.

Along with whatever it is that’s bothering him that he won’t open up about. 

Bayley and Naomi must pick up on her change and mood, switching the conversation to something regarding some mess that kicked off at the Warehouse between Nia and some person named Mia. Solana does her best to follow along when she feels her phone vibrate in her bag. 

Pulling it out, she unlocks her phone and opens up messages, specifically the unopened thread from an unsaved number.

Unknown: Did you really think you would get away with fucking us over?

Unknown: You were warned.

Unknown: What happens next is on you.

The phone drops out of Solana’s hand the minute she’s done reading the text. She can barely breathe, barely process what’s happening as her head snaps up, eyes frantically searching for the one person who’s now been kicked to the front of her mind.

Roman

She spots him, expression unreadable as he sips on a beer, speaking to Solo.

Solana jumps up from the sofa, ignoring Naomi and Bayley asking what’s wrong. She kicks her heels off and makes a beeline straight for him, uncaring about the bodies she has to squeeze between, the few individuals who she actually shoves out of her way. Something at any other time she wouldn’t dare consider doing. But this isn’t any other time, this is life or death.

Literally.

“Roman!”

His eyes snap with hers seconds before she successfully makes her way over to him. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest. She can barely breathe, and she’s certain that she’s trembling, but none of that stops her from rushing out, “we have to get out of here!”

His hands move to her face, cupping it, taking note of her frantic state as he asks with all of the protectiveness. “What’s wrong?”

Eyes watering, she opens her mouth. “I—”

That’s as far as it goes, the most and only thing that she’s able to express because before she’s cut off. Roman’s gaze lifts above her and the last thing she sees is the slight widening of his eyes as he shoves her to the side of him with so much force that she slams against the ground, her head bouncing off the carpeted floor.

But, that’s not what catches her attention. Not the shock of him pushing her so harshly, putting his hands on her in a way she would have never thought possible. No, that’s not an issue at all, because the sound that only seems to have registered upon her fall is what has her attention snatched and fixated.

A single sound that she hasn’t heard in years.

A gunshot. 

And then chaos.

There’s shouts, there’s screams, there’s people running around in a mass panic, but a single voice cuts through all of that: clear, loud, furious. “Get her out of here now!”

Roman.

And it’s the sound of his voice that makes Solana snap her head to the side, eager to lay eyes on him in the midst of this chaos.

But, it’s when she does that everything changes, the world stops and time stands still.

“No.” She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move, can’t function because all she can focus on is the sight of Roman’s men with a perimeter around him, guns lifted and aimed, ready to fire off at a moment's notice. “Roman!” She tries to climb up off the floor, tries to get to him, to see him, to touch him. 

Solana is unable to look away from the sight of him holding onto his shoulder, face grimaced in pain, blood seeping through his long fingers.

But before can get to him, before she can actually touch him, another voice calls out, “cover me!” And she’s suddenly off the floor, body pressed against a stranger, the interaction causing her to try to jerk away. 

Partially because of the contact, mostly because she needs to get to Roman.

“We gotta get you out of here!” Solo’s voice, harsh and determined, makes her realize he’s the strange body that she also now realizes is trying to get her the hell out of dodge. “Now!”

And it’s right then and there that another gunshot rings out, followed by several more.

Solana’s panic nearly triples as she tries to push him away, tears burning her eyes, “no! I’m not leaving him!” Solana beats her fist against Solo as he continues to drag her, Solana begging, “don’t make me leave him!” The tears are spilling over, the last glimpse of Roman showing Jimmy and Jey rushing over in his direction. “Please!” Solana continues to cry out his name, fighting a losing battle against Solo who is successful in ushering her out of the emergency exit located in the back. 

Once outside, he has to keep dragging her down the fire escape staircase, because she doesn’t stop trying to push him away and doesn't stop from trying to get back to Roman. Solana can’t stop replaying the nightmare that has just become a reality. 

She has no idea where Naomi is. Where Bayley is. Only able to see the twins and Roman before she was ripped away from the scene.

Roman….

He pushed her to protect her.

Moved her out the line of fire and took the bullet intended for her.

He’s been shot because of her.

He’s been hurt because of her.

And it’s all her fault.

[seirei-bh]

My opinion and theories about Jason's route ep 4

This post focuses only on Jason's part of the episode, I'll be playing Amanda and Thomas' routes in a few days, so I'll save my thoughts about their images, moments and dialogue in detail for later. And I'll do also other post about general curiosities facts of the ep, but I prefer to wait a few days for that.

BIG SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT, you're warned!

Well, first of all: if you are Devon, Amanda, Thomas or Roy, you are in luck, this is your chapter! But if you're the Jason route, you might be disappointed (it wasn't like that in my case, but I've seen a lot of people disappointed for understandable reasons, I'll leave my opinion below)

A summarize about Jason's moment:

-We met him in the cafeteria by coincidence, but he didn't see us yet.

-Thomas says he secretly follows Jason on his Instagram account.

-Elenda hints that maybe Jason has a crush on Ysaline. While Brune is worried because she thinks maybe Jason is trying to "hunt" Ysaline.

-Then Thomas and Devon start speculating about Jason's relationships. They insinuate that he must be a womanizer and someone who see people as prizes to be won because he is with different several women in photos and it doesn't seem like his relationships last long.

-HOWEVER, Jason suddenly appears because he has heard the conversation. He seems to feel offended, he hints that he feels disappointed by the others' attitude. Jason also says that regarding his private life and romantic relationships "there are reasons why I prefer not to commit long term" but that it's none of their business. And then he leaves.

Okay. Let's theorize here!

Apparently, and in the opinion of Thomas, Devon, and most of our peers, Jason is a womanizer. But the fact that he says very seriously that there is another reason behind why he only has short relationships and not long ones, I have a few theories about it, and yes, I think it will be a bigger issue than it may seem.

-A while ago I did a headcanons post about Jason in which among his headcanons, I got right the fact that he has only had brief relationships so far, and there are some possibilities that I mentioned there that could be that reason behind all this :

1- He simply doesn't have time for long relationships. This man is married to his job, and perhaps most of the partners he had didn't understand that, and he doesn't give his 100% in relationships either because he thinks they're not worth it and are a waste of time.

2- Since he is a rich, handsome and powerful man, he either believes that he has a perfect image to maintain and he fears that any woman could discover some weakness to use against him, so he prefers to end the relationship before it becomes serious. If this is the reason, he may have had a serious relationship in the past that caused him some emotional damage too, which made him more cautious later (which could be something he had in common with Ysaline) and/or too many relationships with women who only dated with him for supercial reasons so he feels he can't trust in love anymore. And maybe even his family pressures him to keep a perfect image too.

3- And this is my favorite theory, as I speculated in his headcanons post: his poliosis was a consequence of a Waardenburg syndrome. A syndrome that also can cause him to suffer from partial deafness and even vision problems. And for this reason, perhaps he doesn't want or thinks that he should never have children, so he prefers not to have long relationships, so that no woman can find out this fact and become disappointed with the issue of not being able to have children with him in the future, other than that it would be for him to admit a weakness that could cause him to be fired from his job (I have a family member who lost his job because he turned partially blind from a hereditary disease, so yeah these kind of things can happen). And for a man like Jason, who values ​​his job so much, losing him for something like that could be a big blow for him. Also, on a plot level it would be an interesting plot twist for his character, in my opinion.

Now let's get to another tricky part of the episode.

-After Jason leaves, Devon explains to us that the reason for his enmity with him was that, a while ago, they both entered a contest, and apparently, Jason copied the work that Devon did, that's why Roy calls him in the ep 2 liar and thief.

-However, there is something in this whole story that doesn't add up: Jason presented his project days after Devon, and that caused Jason was fired and lost the city council's own confidence. And when Devon asked him for an explanation for the plagiarism, Jason blamed Devon. So… what really happened??

-We lack information here. I think we won't know the full truth until Jason tells us his pov in all of this.

-If Jason had plagiarized and stolen from him on purpose, then he should have submit his project before Devon. It would have been the logical step to avoid being harmed. There's also the possibility that Jason just had a BIG coincidence of ideas similars to Devon's, but Jason wouldn't be so offended or attack Devon so much if it was just his own fault…

-I have a theory that there is a third person involved in this story.

-Perhaps that third person was one of Jason's colleagues, or one of his private investors, or perhaps someone from the city council or a person from another company who was a fake friend of Jason's and wanted to secretly harm him. I think that person found out about what Devon was going to do, and that person gave that idea to Jason without telling him that it was Devon's idea, like "hey, I've this idea, let's share it for this project" and then when it was shows it belonged to Devon, that third person told Jason that it was Devon the one who had stolen the idea from them. That person twisted the story.

-Now, the biggest disappointment of the ep if you're Jason's route: you only talk to him for a minute.

-Yeah, it was disappointing to spend so little time with him after waiting a whole month. Although I still enjoyed his moment because of the theories it made me think about it and I still think his route worths it. Besides, If I had enough patience in the past to deal with Leiftan's very very VERY brief moments in the first eps of Eldarya, then I can also deal with Jason's route being frustrating that way XD That's what you got when you're playing the secret route: your're going to suffer always in th firsts eps lmao.

-There is only a brief dialogue with all your companions in front and then you check out his Instagram. I really hope his part in the 5th episode is longer ToT

-His image it's the promotional image that we have already seen of him, but it doesn't surprise me, I already expected that image to be in an episode soon or later, he looks hot anyway, although I thought that the context would be more interesting, like seeing him in some important event instead of on Instagram.

-While Ysaline is looking his photos on Instagram, she thinks he seems to be "a big red flag" lol, although I'm not surprised after what her boss and colleages said about him, and because of this girl bad experience in the past (damn you, Ioan)

-This has made some players think that Jason is going to be a disappointing route, but personally I don't think so, not only because of the theories I have given, but because in UL I've been Castiel route and Nathaniel route, and both characters in the first eps they are very popular with women and you heard they had many short relationships of one night or a few days, and the beginning with both characters and Sucrette in UL is complicated… (Nath disappeared and got into trouble non-stop, We even find him flirting with a girl in chapter 3 in front of us, and Castiel, after spending the night with you, ignores you for an entire ep and says he doesn't want a relationship) but then in later chapters Castiel and Nath turned out to be WONDERFUL routes with sweet/beautiful moments and boys totally in love with Sucrette, faithful to her and who loved her deeply. So I think Jason might be a little similar to them in this case, with a very complicate start, but he'll be worth it in the end. And I'm into that shit, come on, the enemies to lovers drama!

-Oh and Ysaline gives the Jason's photo a "like" by mistake! XD So I guess Jason will mention this to us in a message or in the next ep. Hohohoh *evil smirk*

Conclusion: I can't say I totally loved it, but I'm not totally disappointed either. At least I'm glad we got a part of explanation about all Devon vs Jason's mess. I hope that in the next eps with his moments are longer (pls!)

[dragon-kazansky]

Midnight meeting

Astarion x Reader/Tav (GN)

Spoilers for the end of the game

It's done. The tadpoles are gone and all that's left is the future waiting for you to start a new chapter of your life. There's one person you're not going to leave behind, however.

Warnings: None really. Fluff. Astarion being Astarion. Not ascended. My game glitches at the end and I couldn't see the scene with Astarion, just Gale and Shadowheart T-posing while the dialogue popped up. So I wrote this.

♡♡♡

The sun had set on, what you could only describe as, a terribly busy day. The fate of everyone and everything relied on you and your friends taking down an Elderbrain.

If someone had told you a few years prior this is what your life would become, you wouldn't have believed them. Yet, you wouldn't change a single thing about it. Any of it.

There have been good times and bad times. It had been a struggle. There were nights where you lay there wondering if that night would be your last. There was also Astarion.

Your darling Astarion.

When the time came for him to make a difficult decision, you had been there to help make the choice. You had grown so close to the vampire, he opened his heart to you. A relationship blossomed unexpectedly. At first you were his entertainment, his guarantee of safety. Then he fell for you for real and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

One night he made up his mind. He liked you. A lot. You were sticking by his side through everything and he wanted more of that. You were so patient. So understanding. So kind. He didn't think he deserved any of it, but he was certainly glad to recieve it all.

You had become his person.

However, now that everything is right in the world again, the tadpole gone and people can go back to living their lives, Astarion can't help feeling guilty.

You had talked him down from ascension, which he was glad for, but also sad about because he could.no longer walk in the sun. He missed the days of waking up and seeing the sun shining on your beautiful face. He missed how it's warmth felt on his skin. He missed how happy you looked during the day.

Here you were, just past midnight, sitting by a fire keeping him company. He is watching you quietly. The glow of the moon filters in from a window. You look beautiful. Yet, his heart his heavy. He feels guilty.

You can feel his eyes on you. You lift your gaze. Those stunning red eyes are gazing at you, but you can tell he is lost in thought. You frown softly.

"Astarion?"

He doesn't move. Whatever is on his mind has really taking him away. Slowly, you reach out. Your hand finds his and your fingers curl around his pale skin. A slight jolt rocks through his body and he blinks. His gaze is on you and he is seeing you again.

"Apologies." His voice is soft. Distant.

"Are you alright?" You ask softly.

"Fine." Astarion turns his head back to the fire, but you can see the way he sulks. You move closer to him, shuffling into his side. Your arms wrap around him in a gentle embrace. You feel the way he craves your touch.

"Talk to me, Astarion. What's on your mind?"

He is silent for a few moments, but when he speaks his voice is soft and sad. "Are you happy?"

You look at him in disbelief. "Is that a real question?"

He nods.

You can't believe he ever felt the need to ask something life that. You lift a hand to his cheek and caress his cold skin. "I'm happier than I have ever been."

"What I mean is... are you happy with me? Staying with me is... is to be stuck in the shadows with me. You have no reason to deprive yourself of the joys of life to stay by my side. I... won't ask that of you."

"Astarion, you're not depriving me of anything. I love you. I will stand by your side because that's what I want. I won't ever leave you by yourself in the shadows."

Astarion's eyes glisten. He looks like he wants to cry. You stroke his cheek with your thumb softly.

"Do you hear me?" You ask softly. "I'm her because I want to be here. I love you more than anything. I am not about to abandon you after everything."

Astarion can't help himself. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you into his chest. He holds you tight and buries his face into your shoulder.

"Gods, I don't deserve you."

You smile.

"I'm exactly what you deserve."

The two of you sit like that for a while. Astarion has never been more grateful for anything. Meeting you, letting you talk him down from ultimate power, and for you chasing him into the shadows when it was all over.

You're his most precious gift, and he will never forget that.

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 5}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: A busy Friday night always has its ups and downs, but never this bad.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: triggers associated with the food industry, workplace tension, language, argumentative dialogue, degrading language, power dynamics (due to job rankings), attempted assault, man on woman violence, shoving, pushing, non con touching, non con manhandling, mentions of eating disorder, vomiting, reader has a lot of panic attack symptoms, reader goes nonverbal for a moment, symptoms of shock, minor injuries, smoking, cigarettes, alcohol, alcohol consumption

A/N: i realize this chapter has a lot going on, i've tried to tag it appropriately, if i missed something please let me know and i can add or alter.

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

Tommy’s smile was bright as you approached, the hum of the dining room fading out as you looked from him to the young woman across from him.

“Well look who it is, the only girl brave enough to call Joel a meanie to his face!”

“At your service.” You tipped your head, going along with the banter from the jovial man. He had cleaned up rather nice, a dark button down and slacks in lieu of the plain t-shirt and jeans he had worn to the bar all those nights ago. “Chef sent this over.”

“Name’s Tommy, not sure if we actually got acquainted the other night in all the chaos. And this lovely young woman is my company for the night, Sarah.”

“Only because you had a reservation and dad would’ve killed you if you didn’t make it.” The young woman had the same dimple that Joel did, a decoration on the right cheek. Same furrowing brow, now aimed at her uncle across from her. She was beautiful, from the carefully arranged kinky hair atop her head to the caramel of her skin.

“It’s not my fault my date bailed.”

“Of course, of course.” She waved him off as smiled at you in a conspiratorial way, pulling you effortlessly into the conversation. One you weren’t too sure you even wanted to be a part of. There was a heavy weight that had settled in your chest, insecurity and anxiety such a familiar feeling as it flared. “My Uncle Tommy doesn’t have the best luck with the ladies.”

“You’re Chef Miller’s daughter?” You asked for confirmation as politely and professionally as you could, setting the wine glasses down in front of each of them. Introducing yourself as you watched her nod enthusiastically. While using the wine tool, you felt Tommy’s eyes rove over your expression, a collected smile on your lips as the feeling in your chest began to gnaw and move up into your throat. Nausea was rolling deep in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to excuse yourself. But you were a professional and had been tasked with delivering them their drinks.

Tommy must’ve clocked the slight shift in tone, definitely the way you referred to Joel. His smile faltered a little, but he was aware enough not to ask you anything too personal in present company. Hell, even in the restaurant setting, not wanting to cause a stir with whatever was going on with you.

“One and only!” She chirped as lifted her now full glass to her lips and took a sip. The saccharine sweet scent of the wine did not help to settle your stomach as you poured the appropriate serving into Tommy’s glass. “Well, by blood at least.”

You hadn’t responded, unsure of what to say. Not knowing what to say to the daughter of the man who had begun to fill the void in your life you had let form. So you fell back on the practiced skills that allowed you the job you did. You prattled on about the wine, from the notes that should be detectable to the perfect pairings on the menu that they could consider.

The universe seemed to take pity on you, because someone was sidling up next to you as you set the bottle of wine on the table. Millie placed a hand on your upper arm, leaning in to speak to you quietly.

“Need help on expo, Mary’s orders.” Her words were a blessing and you quickly excused yourself from the table.

“Appetizer for 38, chef.” Someone announced as a dish slid onto the expo line. Joel turned from where he was tending to a steak, keeping it braised with the butter that was browning in the pan alongside sprigs of rosemary.

“Run it.” His eyes locked with yours through the line.

“I’m here to expo, not run dishes.” You focused on wiping the edges of the dish with a towel, ensuring no sauce or herbs or fingerprints tarnished the ceramic. You double checked the hanging ticket and when it looked good to go you were calling out. You projected your voice, keeping it professional. “Can I get hands please?”

“You have hands.”

“I’m on expo, Mary said.”

“And I’m tellin’ you to run it, what’s your problem?” The cast iron skillet in his hand clunked to the burner, flat as he disengaged the flame, and turned his full attention on you.

“Think your daughter would like it if you brought the appetizer out, chef.” You shot back at him, aware that eyes were shifting from you both at the exchange as the servers flitted around grabbing refills for drinks and plates to preset tables. Something flickered behind his eyes, but he reigned it in as quickly as it appeared.

“Expo helps runs dishes.”

“I’m well aware of my job responsi-“

“Apparently not. The dish is dying. Run. It.”

Locked in a heated glare with the man across from you, the tension of the kitchen and the dining room and having to sneak around, of your professor coming back to the restaurant, to the feeling that you didn’t want to think about every time you saw the crinkle of his eyes when his lips pulled into a smile.

Chest hurting, panging in such a harsh way you felt your breathing begin to deepen. Full breaths expanding and exhaling visible moving your chest. His eyes softened the slightest bit but whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the dining room door opening with more force than necessary.

“I am so sorry! I thought Mary said to get you for expo, she said to get you back on the well and I run expo.”

“This needs hands.” Was all you said to the flustered girl before setting the towel down and rushing out of the kitchen.

“Somebody run the goddamn dish!” Joel’s raised voice had you picking up your pace and you tried not to burst through the door as you entered the dining room.

The bar was busy, a line of tickets stuck together where the printer didn’t tear them completely and they hung down to the floor mats at your feet. Making quick work of them and running them to their respective tables to help out the swamped looking servers, you were just about to the bar when you noticed that Joel was out in the dining room. He was standing beside table 38, with his family. As you passed by on the way back to the bar, you caught a snippet of their conversation.

“Congratulations, baby girl, I am so proud of you.” Joel leaned down to wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into his side as he stood beside her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, flattening the kinky curls there with the action. She swatted at him, though her easy laughter sounded in the air. Another young girl had joined them a beer you vaguely remember pouring in her grip. She was fairer skinned than the rest of them, but it was family, their dynamic too familiar and jovial with each other to be otherwise. You ignored the table completely as you passed it, pretending it was just another happy father and their child, a good evening to be surprised at work by family. The bathroom door slammed behind you and you beelined for the nearest stall and locked it with shaking hands.

You vomited the breakfast you had managed to eat and the bites of recipes you had tried while prepping earlier that day. Coughing as the acid burned in your throat, you tore far too many sheets from the toilet paper roll and raised them to wipe at your mouth. Breathing heavily through your nose, your chest felt tight, and the phantom feel of a man’s large hand on your back had you holding back sobs. Eyes stinging as you fought off tears, you tried to keep as quiet as possible as the bathroom door opened, and the click of heels could be heard from the newcomer. The scuff of boots on the tile signaled another.

“So who do you think it is? The old man could not stop smiling the other day and he does fuck all except work so it has to be somebody here.”

“I dunno, maybe another manager? Everyone here is so young.”

“Yeah, but age is just a number. You’re dating someone older.”

“But dad doesn’t know about that.” Her tone sounded vaguely threatening. But a cackle decorated the air and then giggles. The two girls dissolving into easy going laughter before exiting the room.

After making yourself presentable, you exited the bathroom and made your way back to the dining room. As soon as you were back behind the bar one of the girls who had been waiting for a date must’ve come to terms with being stood up, she was tracking a ride home on an open app on her phone. She waved at you to close out and you took the card from her offered hand, checking the way she was a little too loose in her movements.

“Hey, Mary!” You called out, seeing the woman walking along the length of the bar and helping to refill water glasses for the nearby tables. “I’m gonna run someone out for a ride pick up, that cool?”

“Of course, I’ll let the servers know there will be a wait for drinks.”

“Thanks.” A grateful smile and a signed receipt later, you found yourself waiting on the curb outside the front door with a chatty girl.

Someone was standing to the side, smoking a cigarette but the minimal light didn’t allow you much of a hint of who they were, probably just a patron waiting on a table or stepping away from dinner for a moment. Just as you were helping the girl into her ride, double checking that the person and car matched the description the person put out their cigarette. Making sure the car was driving safely through the parking lot you and taking a moment to enjoy the fresh air, you heard the steps of the person as they made their way back toward the entrance.

Suddenly a hand was grabbing you while another was ushering you away from the immediate front of the building, back by where they had been standing to smoke. They were too strong, causing you to stumble on your feet as you were swept away.

“Yo, what the actual fu-“

“You need to shut up.” Your blood turned cold, and you let out a shout as your back collided roughly with the brick of the building. The action caused the clip your hair was being held in to snap and break apart, the jagged pieced of plastic tangling in your hair and pressing into your scalp. Another shout pulled from your chest at the pain.

A hand was shoved over your mouth and you tried to kick out at the man in front of you and swipe your hands out at him, but he pressed the entirety of his body up against yours. Your nails caught on his figure, tangling in his jacket as you tried to push him away. His own hands yanked them free, breaking two of your nails in the process. Grunting in pain at the throbbing that stemmed from them against his hand.

Through the blood rushing in your ear and the blurry image of blonde hair clouding your vision you bite down as hard as you could on the palm of the hand against you. The man cursed, stepping back in his shock and you pushed at him again with everything you had.

He stumbled, the light catching his face and allowing you to see that it was the man from the bar all those nights ago.

“Fuck!” Your voice squeaked out as you rushed away from his reaching hands. You reached up and brushed what was left of your hair clip away, not wanting to draw attention to anything amiss as you neared the door, for once you were through the threshold. His steps and presence were heavy behind you but the second your hand gripped the handle for the door he seemed to collect himself.

Trying to keep a composed air about you, you weaved your way through the dining room, eyes focused solely on the swinging door that led into the kitchen. Everything was a silent hush around you, mind not picking up on the absent chatter of the dining room or the clinking of silverware as people continued their nights like normal. As soon as you were through the door, you let go of your composure.

You were rushing toward the office with quick steps, your heart beating painfully in your chest and your ears roaring with the sound of blood rushing. Ignoring the way Joel’s head followed you as you sped through the kitchen, you pushed through the way your skin felt like it was itching, too tight over your body. You reached for the closed handle and turned it, stepping inside without thinking and the door clicked behind you as you leaned back onto it. Your breathing was heavy, and your hands were shaking and when you looked up to see Mary in her desk chair, a bite of food frozen midway to her mouth you let out a stuttering gasp.

“Oh no, honey, what’s wrong?” Food forgotten, she stood up and ushered you into Joel’s chair beside her own.

The words you wanted to say wouldn’t come out, stuck in your still burning throat and you feared you would throw up again in the middle of the small office. The longer you tried to force the words, the more your chest hurt, the more strangled noises sounded into the air. Reaching up to lay a palm flat over your chest, you could feel the rapid pace your heart was beating at, and you just shook your head as your skin continued to feel too tight and your temple began to throb in time with your rapid pulse.

“Oh, oh gosh. Okay, just, honey please calm down.” Her hands were on her knees as she knelt down in front of you. She took your hands in her own, pausing slightly at the sight of your broken nails, and urged you gently, “Just breath, one deep breath for me okay?”

A knock on the door startled you so bad you nearly jumped out of the seat. The grip Mary had on your hands tightened as she watched your breathing take on a hurried staccato, her eyes holding so much worry as she looked over you before turned to face the door.

“What the hell is goin’ on? I got the barback running from expo because the lead server said there was a commotion at the bar and-“ Joel’s deep baritone was too loud in the small office as he hadn’t waited for an answer and shouldered his way through the now open door. His words cut off abruptly as he took in the scene before him. You couldn’t bear to look at him, too focused on not tipping over into full panic attack mode. 

“We have a bit of a situation, Joel.” Mary reached out and smoothed a hand down one of your arms, having picked up on the slight trembling your body was doing with the door open. “Please close the door, she’s overwhelmed.”

“What’s going on?” His voice was tempered, arms coming to cross over his broad chest. He was trying to take control of the situation, trying to figure out what had upset you so much you basically abandoned the bar. You could feel his eyes on you even as you kept your head down and gaze focused on your hands tangled up with Mary’s.

“I’m trying to figure that out, she’s frozen, can’t get any words out.”

“Spit it out.”

“Joel!”

“Well! She’s the one with the problem, so she’s the one who had to let us know.”

“Honey, please talk to us. You can tell us, we won’t judge you. Did something happen? Was it a customer?”

You shook your head, tears hot as they trailed down your cheeks. The spike of fear you had felt when the man had reached for you had you scrunching your eyes shut as you took a shuddering breath. Joel was there last time, he had helped you then. Wrestled the man to the bar top and away from you, it had been so easy for him. It wasn’t fair, you could only do so much, you didn’t have the same intimidation factor that Joel did merely existing.

You lifted your head and met Joel’s eyes, the brown dark in the way that displayed how angry he was, unsure of what was going on and falling back on his gruff nature. But your words softened them, something that flashed too quickly for anyone else to see.

“The man from the bar, he’s here.”

He was gone in the blink of an eye, steps loud as he stalked through the kitchen. The sound of the swinging door creaking on its hinges audible even in the office. If Mary thought anything of your words she didn’t let it show, focusing her attention on helping to calm you down. After a few moments, his steps could be heard as he made his way back to the office. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, face set in a scowl as he tried to process the situation.

“Did he touch you again?” Joel’s voice was dark, his words a dangerous thing that cradled a threat in every syllable. You shuddered as they washed over you, even if the sentiment wasn’t meant to be aimed at you, it was because of you. For you, he spoke with such ferocity.

You could only nod, unable to get any more words out. Mary’s hand tightened over your own before she stood.

“Joel, we need to call security and give them a description. I want whoever it is out of the restaurant. I know you’re the owner, but this-“

“I want him out, but I’m calling the cops. Not just security.” Thick fingers already digging his cell phone from a pants pocket. He brought it up to his ear as the line began to ring, having punched it in quickly.

“Everything is going to be okay, we’re going to keep you here in the office until the police get here and then one of us will take you home.” She was trying to continue to sooth you, but half her attention was on the phone in her hand as she contacted the security company employed by the restaurant. She was messaging them, letting them know there had been an attempted sexual assault on the premises.

Those words burned into your retinas, bright as if they were a neon sign even when you clenched your eyes shut. Joel’s steps were solid as he left the room, phone still to his ear as he waited on the line until officers arrived on site, wanting as clear communication as possible. He returned a few moments later with a steaming mug.

Mary detangled her fingers and let you know she was going to go and manage the front of house, to ensure that things were still running and let the girls know to not go outside on any breaks for the time being. Joel took up her abandoned seat, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down atop the desk.

Using his feet to maneuver the rolling chair closer to you, he carefully removed your hands from where you had begun to grip the fabric of your jeans. He molded them around the warm mug, his own around them and he just looked at you. His concerned eyes took in the way your hair was mused, no longer contained in the clip you had showed up to work in. The way your eyes were rimmed red, cheeks stained with tear tracks, the way you were trembling slightly, eyes unfocused as you stared at your lap. You wouldn’t raise your head to meet his gaze head on, no words were being spoken, it was…disconcerting to him to see you so locked up.

“Darlin’,” Was all he said as he raised the mug up toward your lips. “Please take a sip of this, it’s bone broth, it’ll help ease your nerves a little.”

You only intended to take the smallest sip to appease him and get him to back off, still mad about finding out he was a father and that he didn’t tell you his daughter would be coming to the restaurant. Sending you to her table without a thought in the world how you would feel or react to such a revelation. But the second the warm liquid washed over your tongue, you were taking consistent sips until the mug was empty and placed off to the side on the desk beside his phone.

He sat with you in silence, not sure what to say that would break the spell you were under, the shock you were under. He hadn’t seen this side of you, knew that everyone reacted to these things differently, that it wasn’t an easily overcome thing, if overcome at all. You wanted to reach out and take his hands in your own, to feel the warmth of him but you fought back the urge, the happy face of his daughter flashing in your minds eye.

You reached a hand up to press against a pain on the back of your neck, as soon as your fingers touched the skin there underneath your hairline, you hissed out a deep breath. Your hand came away bloodied, shaking as you looked at it with wide eyes. Joel was on his feet instantly, one hand cradling your face as he moved your hair carefully from your neck. You felt his warm exhalations on your shoulder as he leaned in, the faint scent of an earlier cigarette on his breath mixed with the spearmint gum he chewed while on the line. His fingers gently reached for something you couldn’t see, flinching slightly as something tugged at the back of your neck. In his hand was a broken shard of your hair clip, blood bright on the turquoise of it. Fresh tears welled up and blurred your vision as they fell over your lash line and over his hand still cradling your cheek.

“Fuck, you’ve got some pretty deep cuts back here. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“D-don’t call me that.”

Anything he was about to say was cut off as a voice trilled over the phone call still going on his phone.

“Mr. Miller, sir? Dispatch here, officers are pulling up right now.”

He removed his hands from you, a weird look about him as he moved to pick his phone back up, “Thank you, I’ll go meet them out front.”

“Will you-“

Nodding your head, you couldn’t bear to look up at him.  

“Okay.” He nodded at you, his eyes trying to catch yours to make sure but you had ducked your head again. He reached over to get the small first aid kit from where it was stashed atop the shelve over the desk. It wasn’t as stocked or official as the one in the kitchen, but it had stuff you could clean your injury with. “I’d offer to clean it, but I don’t want to push you. Please, at least drag some antiseptic over the back of your neck.”

The rest of the night was a blur, the restaurant closing two hours earlier than posted hours. Mary insisted on driving you home, some of the girls from the front of house parroting her offer. Joel had silenced them all with thanks for being so kind and willing to help, but as the owner and the one who was ultimately responsible for everyone’s safety. He put his proverbial foot down and said he would be making sure you got home safe. A good cover, you thought bitterly to yourself as he walked back into the office sans apron.

“Alright, Mary is gonna close up once everyone is finished cleaning. Do you have your keys? Figured I’d drive your truck so you have it there at your apartment. My brother can meet us there and bring me back for mine.”

He kept his distance as he walked with you toward the staff parking lot at the back of the restaurant. He was quiet as you stopped by the lockers to get your bag, his own on his shoulder he had swiped from the office. You had stayed there while the cops had talked with Joel, with Mary, to security. The man had been long gone, rushing away from the security guards that had quickly rounded the front of the building when you had shouted out. But they had been seconds too late and you paid the price. The cops had asked you for your statement, Joel standing behind you the whole time, providing details from the night at the bar as well.

The truck was silent as Joel held the door open for the passenger seat, making sure you were situated before he closed it as gently as he could. Once he adjusted the driver’s seat from your settings, he climbed in as well, the cab of the truck tense as he looked over at you and you looked out the window.  

“I’m sorry.” Your words were so low, a whisper barely heard over the running engine and hush of the other cars on the road.

“For what darlin’?” Not answering him right away, you reached into your bag and pulled out a cigarette, moving on to dig into your pockets for a lighter. You froze when you couldn’t find it, realizing it must’ve fallen out when… punching a finger to activate the lighter built into the dash you chanced a look over at him. He was focused on the road, his large hands around the steering wheel and his brow furrowed. His bottom lip looked a bit irritated, like he had been worrying at it with his teeth.

“All those reservations, all that business.” Was your quiet response, reaching for the lighter when it jutted out from the dash to signal that it was ready to use. You lifted it to the end of your cigarette, inhaling deep once the ember glow encompassed it. He looked over, but you had already turned toward the cracked window, watching the smoke billow out in wispy curls.

“I ain’t worried about a few hours lost. The most important thing is that you’re okay.” His fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel, you could hear the crinkling of the leather in the small space. He flicked the turn signal on and reached up to hit the gate control you had attached to the visor as your building came into view. It was easy enough for him to pull into one of the spots that ran parallel to the building. It was only two stories, four apartments on each floor. Two more exactly like it on either side within the secure gate. He watched it close completely before he turned the truck off, turning to face you.

“Look, about the table, it was supposed to be for Tommy and a date of his.”

Shaking your head, you made to open the door and get out. With a sigh, he followed suit, rounding the bed of the truck to hold the door open for you while you stepped out. With one last pull, you put out the spent cigarette and dropped it into the bed of the truck. Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you began to walk across the small parking lot toward the outdoor stairs that led up to your apartment. Joel was behind you, your keys in his hand as he made sure the vehicle was locked, the beeping sound loud in the quiet of the early evening.

“I was going to tell you, it’s just-“ You watched as he opened the security door and then the front door, shouldering past him you dropped your bag on the couch underneath the window. The click of the security door deadbolt echoed between you, but all you felt was exhaustion being back in your space.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now, not – not tonight, please.” Walking away from where he stood just inside the door, into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He followed you further into the space, into the living room, closing the main door behind him, locking it to make sure your space was safe and sealed away from the world.

“Joel, I was so scared.” The words were a quiet confession as they left your lips on a shaky exhale, hands clenching at your sides as you tried to fight the urge to reach for him now that you were back in the living room beside him. He was so close already, but it wasn’t enough. You needed, no, wanted him to be the one to pull you for once, to let you know that he cared. You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling.

His arms were enveloping you, pulling you into his chest. He buried his face in your hair, and you could feel the way his own breath was shaky as you. You turned so your cheek was resting right over his strong heartbeat, a faint slightly delirious chuckle shaking your body before you were crying into his chest. His hold on you tightened and you reached your hands around him to hold him in return, hands digging into the fabric of his shirt at his sides.

You silently guided him towards your room, needing to get off your feet and melt into the full embrace of the man you were already entangled with. He followed you, kicking off his shoes to leave in the living room. He let go of his hold long enough to turn around and let you change without his eyes roving over you, not wanting to overstep anything. You were grateful, still too worked up to do much else other than hold each other. Once you were in a baggy shirt and a soft pair of sleep shorts, you reached your hands to grab ahold of the back of his shirt.

He turned around, the fabric twisting up, allowing you a flash of the dark trail of hair that ran from his belly button to disappear down below the belt holding up his work pants. Scrunching your nose at the idea of his dirty pants on your clean sheets, he ducked his head to make eye contact with you.

“What’s that lil bunny nose for, huh?” He boldly kissed the tip of your nose, pulling a surprised huff of laughter from you around soft sniffles as your fingers latched into his belt loops and weakly tugged at them. He made a sound deep in his chest, hands coming to wrap around your own. “Darlin’-“

“Just don’t want them on my sheets, that’s all.”

“Okay, only if you’re comfortable. That’s all I want right now, okay?”

You helped him, rather uselessly, to unbuckle the belt while he shucked the fabric down his legs. He stepped out of them, clad the clean shirt he had changed into at work and a pair of dark boxer briefs. He let you run your hands underneath his shirt and grab at him, he let you push your face back into his chest. And in return you let him wrap you back up in his arms and guide you to the bed. It took a few moments of shifting to get comfortable, but you ended up laying your upper half over his, his arms on your lower back and your legs tangled together where they stretched out. Your face was pressed into his neck, and you were sure he could feel the wetness of your lashes against his skin.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay, darlin’.”

He was reassuring you as much as he was himself.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika

[wutheringmights]

Anyone ask for the commentary yet for the latest chapter >:3 *dies*

You’d be the first!

So this chapter is cursed. Let’s talk about that first. 

You probably noticed that my writing output has been in the gutter this year. I have not written half as much as I should have. There are two main reasons why. The first is that I finally decided to get off my ass and have a more enriching personal life. This means a lot more of my evenings and weekends have been spent exploring other hobbies or taking weekend trips. I don’t regret any of those, and they have really improved my life overall (but I do write more when I am a sad little shut-in).

The second, more pressing reason was that there was a very important wedding I was the maid of honor for. That means I have spent a lot of my free time this year planning a bachelorette, a bridal shower, and helping with general wedding prep. I honestly was not nearly as busy as an expert maid of honor would have been, but all of this took up so much of my brain space that I was having trouble being creative. Multiple times, I would go to a coffee shop with plans to write, only to spend the entire time stressing about buying a new dress or researching hotels. 

I did not realize how stressed I was about this whole thing until literally this week. The wedding is over now, and I am already biting huge chunks into the upcoming chapter. I just have so much more brain space to write. I feel free. 

All that’s to say that this chapter was primarily written the month leading up to the wedding, and my head was Not There. I was struggling to figure the chapter out, and that struggle is reflected in the quality of the prose. For that, I apologize, as inevitable as it was. 

I won’t make any major revision to this chapter, but I have plans to redo my proof-reading. There is an egregious number of typos in this chapter, more than I consider acceptable for a one person team of me. 

(That being said, my typos have gotten worse this past year; ever since AI was integrated into Grammarly and Google Docs, both have been godawful for helping me fix errors. I appreciate how lenient you all have been with my most blatant mistakes.) 

Now that all of that is established, let’s talk about this chapter.

This introduction to Proxi is really, really bad. I am frankly a little embarrassed that I went ahead and published it. While I had a vision for the first few scenes of Link trying to help Proxi and Jakucho’s aid afterwards, I didn’t realize until the day of writing that I actually had 0 plans for how Warriors and Proxi’s first conversation would go. 

I am not even joking. I have a bunch of plans for their interactions together afterwards (which will appear next chapter). But their first conversation once Proxi started to get better? None. 

So what little they talked together here feels like a waste of space. What’s worse, I don’t even know what I would change the dialogue to in order to fix it. My brain is blank. I don’t know.  It’ll probably hit me in a few weeks. This is the trouble with publishing what is essentially the first draft of a story. If my initial ideas are solid, it’s great. But when my brain farts, I’m screwed.

That being said, my favorite part of the past section is that first half where Link frets over how to help Proxi, as well as Jakucho’s speech about the fairies disappearing. 

I have been trying to subtly establish this era of Hyrule as being one that is shocking devoid of magic; having Jakucho mourn the loss of fairies and what omen that could mean feels like I am ruining things. Nonetheless, I just really like the idea of Jakucho having this small moment of wonder over seeing a fairy, as well as her verbalizing these fears that darker times are ahead. 

I think I just enjoy reading about older people having the same anxieties about the world as younger people. It’s more comforting to me than an all-knowing mentor. 

So this chapter has a lot of random names splattered all over the place. Me being me, I stole some of the names from other media and such I enjoy. I’ll point out any fun connections as I find them. 

So for Proxi’s list of names for Link, there’s two of note. The first is Grimshaw, which is the name of the male lead from Lightlark. Despite how much I talk about Fourth Wing on this blog, Lightlark is the bad book I am truly passionate about. 

The second is Wen-li, which is for Yang Wen-li from Legend of the Galactic Heroes. He’s the character of all time for me, and I will go insane if I think about him for too long.

This Proxi section was supposed to go on a little longer, but by the time it came to write it, I was 100% over this chapter. Luckily, next chapter will be a fresh slate and I can finally deliver on all my promises about Proxi’s return. 

I cannot emphasize enough how frustrating it is to know that I fucked up an important character’s return. It’s... sigh. C’est la vie. Whatever. 

Onto the present day:

So I have a particular problem with the present day section. The last chapter, this chapter, and the one I am writing now are all the same plot point in my outline. I severely underestimated how long the lead up to a Very Important Event was going to be. No doubt, I have probably made similar mistakes before. But I am trying to finish this story, so any time I have to draw out the pacing, I die a little on the inside.

I think I initially planned to just skim over how Warriors got to the castle, but then I realized that this was the politics stuff that is the supposed bread and butter of the story. But the reason why I wanted to skim over everything was (as Legend pointed out) fucking networking.

What’s worse, I got to this chapter and realized that, realistically, Warriors should have to spend at least a few months building up a cult of personality. This should be a (purposeful) multi-chapter arc. I don’t want to do that, so I tried to really emphasize how much Warriors was using his reputation as the hero and legends surrounding it to his advantage. Does it still feel unrealistic? Yeah, but we’re just going to have to cope with it. 

Sevas is named for the male lead in Ava Reid’s Juniper & Thorn, which was sitting on my desk when I realized the priest needed a name. 

Colonel Remarque is named for Erich Remarque, author of All Quiet On the Western Front. I think I had made a post name-dropping him around the time I got to this character.

Matthew Thorn... again, Thorn is for Reid’s book. Matthew was just the most bland name I could think of. 

Vlad Dubarry... so I was watching both Castlevania and Rose of Versailles and took the first and surname from both respectively. 

Between the conversation with the priest, the provost office, and Remarque, I was trying to give out a few more details every time to paint a clear picture without boring the reader by reiterating information over and over again. Unfortunately, I still managed to write three pretty boring scenes. 

That being said, I think the friction Remarque offered was interesting to write, even if I had to resist pointing out every single plot hole during it. 

So everything from the castle to Spirit being poisoned took me the longest to write. I knew it was boring, but I could not figure out a way to make it more exciting without omitting the networking stuff entirely. I didn’t really hit a stride with this chapter until I got to Spirit being poisoned. 

The entire time Spirit was being poisoned, I was rubbing my hands together maniacally. I have been searching for a good moment to have a true poisoning in this story and I finally got it. 

Also, I think if this chapter was of higher quality, someone out there would have realized that, for purely medical reasons, Hyrule had to technically give Spirit and smooch on the lips. There should be at least two very silly memes about this. But, alas. The quality.

You can tell I ran into the realization that, realistically, the Royal Guard’s structure would be more complex than I have alluded to previously. Very importantly, you can tell I realized that I should have mentioned the King’s Guard sooner if they were really going to be this powerful subsection of the Royal Guard.

I actually like how the idea that the King’s Guard is only super powerful in matters relating to the king, aka: Castle Town, and is pretty insignificant otherwise. The bureaucratic bullshit that must cause feels very real. But you can tell that I have no idea what rank that would make Endicott. I have been bending over backwards to not state that man’s ranking. 

That being said, his absence from Warriors’s social circle until now is kinda important. Put a pin in that. It will come back.

Also, Endicott is a name I stole from Over the Garden Wall. I picked it because it sounds like the name of someone important. I picked Roald at randomed.

I am really happy that a lot of you have been enjoying the growing distrust the Chain has for Spirit. Insert rant about how victims have to remain palatable in order to be emphasized with, and how tragic it is that the only person who seems to understand that is the person who traumatized him in the first place. 

I feel like I have been fumbling Time’s character a bit, and his conversation at the floor of Spirit’s bed is me finally getting back on track with him. I enjoyed writing that so much, from him trying to fold the scarf to him being upset that no one has learned their lesson yet, all while still not learning a lesson himself. 

There was going to be a comment somewhere that Spirit is in such bad shape in part because his lungs are weak from all that smoking he does, but I honestly don’t know if anyone but Spirit would make that connection. 

I also need to put Legend and Midna together more. They can be so snarky, and I want them to keep a running commentary of Warriors and Spirit’s bullshit like they are two sports announcers watching a football game.

I first imagined Spirit and Warriors’s conversation taking place on the parapet, and came to the same realization about the ladders that Spirit had. I’m glad I put them by the moat, though. The bit about the smell is probably my favorite bit of prose in the chapter. 

I also really like this conversation between Spirit and Warriors. It’s not as insanity inducing as their past bullshit has been, but it hits a few notes. I like Warriors showing off how much he understands Spirit’s abilities (via the jacket), as well as Spirit’s utter disbelief that Warriors is capable of caring for anyone but himself. 

I was also trying really hard to put more of their bullshit into subtext. I have a bad habit of having characters just state what they are feeling out loud, so I am trying to write more coded dialogue. It’s never just about a toaster, etc. 

Warriors was also having such a night of self-discovery. First he had a little moment to freak out about how much his sincere attempts to help sound like manipulation. Then he realized that he would probably never be fully exonerated from his past. Big night for him.

Being unable to fully fix your past is part of the reason why I buffer against the idea of Warriors having a redemption arc. That implies a certain amount of undoing that is just not possible. I don’t know if I am putting that well. However, I am concerned that I am letting my Catholic upbringing color my perspective.

That being said, if Catholicism was a thing in Hyrule, Warriors would be that and be plagued by Catholic Guilt

He’s Catholic coded.

Irish Catholic, to be specific. There’s a difference. 

Anyway, Four. When Four showed up, I was going to have this bit of dialogue where Spirit would allude to knowing about Vio (and therefore, Four) having a relationship with Shadow. It would have been nestled in a larger, coded bit of dialogue where Four would obliquely imply that he was starting to suspect what the Hot Mess is. I cut it because A) Spirit is so socially inept that he cannot do subtly like that, and B) Spirit’s spirit senses would not give him the ability to know about Shadow. 

I also did not want to commit to Four figuring it out first, if at all. 

I have so many ideas about what Warriors the Symbol means to the people of Castle Town that I will hopefully be able to elaborate on in this upcoming chapter.

Realistically, Hyrule Castle should probably be more like a fortress. But again, I have been watching The Rose of Versailles, and I just really liked the idea of the castle being this symbol of opulence during a time of poor economics. The people are struggling but the nobles are thriving, babes. 

Also, Endicott is so much fun to write. He’s like the true antagonistic version of Lincoln. That man was enjoying making Warriors squirm, and I was having a blast writing it. The sexual favors line? I was utterly delighted. 

Realistically, Endicott probably could have been replaced with Whitestone. However, Whitestone is still on the front and I don’t regret putting him there to be Wind’s superior during his short stint as a soldier. (Even if I still think I could have cut out Whitestone in favor of giving Impa more to do.)

I also feel bad for killing Meemaw off so suddenly, but I was enchanted by the idea of her name having to be crossed off because the death was that  recent. 

I also was going to have Endicott spare Warriors for unknown reasons, with the reveal that Ganondorf had been bribing him coming later in the story, However, I was so worried about this seeming too-easy for Warriors that I decided to reveal that detail early. 

Okay, King of Hyrule stuff.

I’m trying to play at this idea of Zelda’s reputation not matching her actual role. Earlier in the story, Warriors describes her as a socialite with no political sense, and Zelda derisively thinks that of herself as well. Then that bit about her being the face of the kingdom is supposed to contradict that perception. She can’t just be a socialite if she had been the mouthpiece of the king since she was a child. 

There’s supposed to be multiple mistakes going on here: Warriors assuming the worst of Zelda, a sexist perception of Zelda by society as a whole, and Zelda feeling worthless because she knows she’s just a symbol. Not sure if I conveyed any of that well. 

Reuenthal’s dementia was caused in part by a stroke, but he also has a condition called prosopometamorphopsia, which is a form of face blindness where faces become distorted the longer you look at them. 

Fun fact is that I generally knew that there was some kind of condition that had made Reuenthal isolate from other people, but I did not pick prosopometamorphopsia until I read this article from the New Yorker. I won’t go as far as to say that I wrote an accurate version of the disorder; I definitely played up the emotional distress it causes for dramatic effect. That is probably problematic, so please do not trust this story as a definitive source on it. 

This also went unsaid in the story, but I imagine that because every daughter in the royal family is named Zelda, they probably go more by their middle names. I almost named dropped one of her sisters as Zelda Artemis, just to be mean.

The last line “A week later, everything went to hell” is, admittedly, very silly. I had a whole section describing what that meant written, but it seriously sucked. I am in the process of rewriting it now, and it’s already so much better. Plus, now that I have another chapter to hit these plot points, I can explore a more daring version of my original idea. Very excited for it. 

That being said, I would 100% cut off that last line and probably improve the chapter by 3%.

And that’s the chapter! Again, I am so sorry that it was such substandard quality. I promise that the next chapter will be better. 

In other news, can I get your opinion on something. Ever since polls came out, I have wanted to do a little census poll on how many people know about CTB, read it, or choose to read it. Just to gage how big the actual audience is. 

On one hand, I think it would be interesting. On the other, it’s a practice in vanity that is very antithetical to how hard I try to be nonchalant about everything. I don’t know. Let me know what you think. 

[psink]

Translation of the interview with Kamiya Hiroshi (Kusuo's VA) and Nojima Kenji (Kuusuke's VA)

The TV anime "The Disastrous Life of Saiki K: The Final Chapter" will air as a year-end special program on the TV Tokyo network on (friday) December 28th from 7:35 to 8:30.

The January issue of PASH!, which is now on sale, features an interview with Kamiya Hiroshi-san, the voice actor of Saiki Kusuo, and Nojima Kenji-san, the voice actor of Kuusuke Saiki. We’re releasing a preview ahead of tomorrow’s broadcast. 

Amidst the busy end-of-year, good grief, a world-involving sibling fight…? We spoke to Nojima Kenji-san, who plays the older brother Kuusuke, and Kamiya Hiroshi-san, who plays the younger brother Kusuo, after they had just finished recording about the truth of the matter!

―― Please tell us how you felt when the decision to make the Final Chapter was made. Kamiya: I was very happy. Even if you want to adapt every episode from the original work, it’s not always possible to do so. But with this series, everything fell into place. I think the biggest reason we were able to adapt it all the way to the Final Chapter was because of the fans’ wishes, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful.

Nojima: I had heard that the Final Chapter would be made, but I was wondering about what form it would take, and it turned out to be a two-part year-end special. Could people really sit through an hour of this work?! What kind of focus would they need to watch it? I was a bit worried about that (laughs). But I’m sure that “The Disastrous Life of Saiki K” will deliver dense content that makes you lose track of time again, in the way only it can. 

―― Compared to other anime series, “Saiki” has about 2 or 3 times more dialogue per episode, right?

Kamiya: I had vaguely noticed that, but… Nojima: You didn’t want to know, did you? (laughs)

Kamiya: Certainly, for a 30-minute anime, it takes a lot of time to go over the script. Even when watching the DVD to check it, I thought “Hm? Is something wrong with the machine?”, because it felt like it was playing fast-forward (laughs).

Nojima:  I’ll be honest now, but on the day I first participated in the recording, I actually went into the recording without finishing all the checks.I checked the script at home and then immediately went to the studio. I was calculating in my mind the timing to start reading the script to record whilst still keeping my role preparation fresh. 

But, the amount of lines was beyond my imagination, so I couldn't finish the preparation… This was something that shouldn’t have happened, but honestly, I got through the latter half [of the recording] just with concentration (laughs). But, since I was able to maintain the momentum from the first half, I’m glad I was able to bring out a good sense of raw feelings. Kamiya-san, how was your first recording?

Kamiya: I already can’t remember, but when I re-watch Episode 1 now, I think the pace is still slow. It’s gotten gradually faster since entering season 2. In season 2, Director Sakurai was probably broken as the pacemaker (laughs). Nojima: Ahaha, I see. It's like a live band where the rhythm gradually speeds up, and you keep going without knowing the original pace.

Kamiya: Exactly. 

Nojima: Since you can’t keep up by just listening to the lines as words, you have to listen to the partner’s tone and match it. It might be similar to a music session.

―― In the Final Chapter, the relationship between Kusuo and Kuusuke seems to be a highlight. What do you both think about these brothers?

Nojima: The reason they can fight so much, do terrible things, and act recklessly is probably because, ultimately, they’re brothers. In a different case, it would have ended in a complete fallout, wouldn’t it?

Kamiya: That’s true. After all, what Kuusuke is doing is almost criminal. Nojima: Ahahahaha.

Kamiya: What I found especially dangerous about what Kuusuke did was the story of making the elderly villagers wear powered suits. The way he disguised it as caregiving while completely using them as his own puppets was seriously dangerous. Nojima: It’s surely his own sense of justice. I wonder if it’s an antithesis to how we should handle the aging society going forward (laughs).

―― Kuusuke’s obsession with Kusuo is also quite dangerous, isn’t it?

Nojima: Kuusuke has a very strong desire for approval, wanting to be recognized by Kusuo above all else. Challenging him to fights is, I think, a distorted expression of that. But I believe it is also an expression of his love and his desire to be loved back.

Kamiya: Kusuo probably thinks Kuusuke is a troublesome person, but Kusuo is also at fault. Although Kuusuke is a genius, he worked hard to create the control device for Kusuo to help him control his superpowers, didn’t he? Kusuo should be grateful, but he doesn’t express it. “Thanks, big brother. I can’t live without this” - it would’ve been nice if he could’ve said that, but Kusuo doesn’t understand the feelings of those without [superpowers], so that didn’t happen. There was also the sense of taking it for granted because they're family, but thinking how this resulted in that difficult brotherly relationship is quite sad.

―― That’s deep.

Kamiya: Although Kusuke knows he’ll lose, he keeps challenging Kusuo to fights and enjoys the process, which shows his malicious side. He’s also quite twisted. So they’re both equally to blame. From an outsider’s perspective, their relationship can be summed up with one phrase "they’re just just not honest with each other”.

Nojima: Despite that, there are also times when they rely on each other.

Kamiya: It’s complicated. That’s why even in the Final Chapter their relationship will likely be depicted. 

―― Finally, could you give a message to the readers who are waiting for the broadcast? Nojima: I was worried about how much Kuusuke would appear, but he ended up having a lot more screentime than I had expected, so I was satisfied. I have no doubts that the viewers will enjoy it as well!  Since the story’s pace is fast, please acquire the ability to not blink while watching (laughs), and surely, you will be moved to tears in the end. There are emotional parts, but more than anything, I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for cherishing and enjoying this series for so long!

Kamiya: The TV anime is finally reaching its conclusion. For those who are watching for the first time, it might be difficult, as the story keeps quickly progressing whilst you’re wondering “what is this?”. But there is a scene at the beginning that reviews past episodes and introduces the characters, so I think you’ll understand what this series is about. That said, since it’s a gag anime, I hope you can enjoy it without thinking too much.

As for the highlights for the Final Chapter, Kusuo finally moves [his mouth] and speaks for the first time. You might be wondering “What is this person saying?”, but it’s exactly as it sounds (laughs). Please watch the main story to uncover the truth behind it. I’m sure you’ll be surprised.

[agentstarkid]

This little story turns one year old this July 31st!

We hopped with Girlie on a rollercoaster of finding (true) love, being quarantined in a foreign country, lots of internet meanies, making new friends, angst, heartbreak, depresh sesh, finding love again and so much more to come -- What a wild journey it's been, and I'm so proud I took the leap!

Looking back a year ago, I can't believe how far this story and I have come. I remember being so full of uncertainty and nerves to post that first chapter, and now, a whole year later, I'm writing little blurbs and one-shots in a whole different language to my main one.

And to celebrate this milestone with you guys, the DAN-Y/N stans out there, and as a thank you for all these 365 days of support and love to Danielito & Girlie's love story—a.k.a. my baby—, I put together a list of dialogue prompts from where you can pick one—or as many as you'd like—and send it to me so I can write a little blurb to go with it!

You can request a specific moment on the fic you'd like to see more (c'mooooon, they were together for 2 whole years! Let's see if you've been paying attention hehe), or just make a general request with a quote of your choice (or you can suggest one! Can't promise much on this, but I'd try my best to bring it to life, unless it is smut. I can't write smut for shitzels yet soz).

I'll be accepting resquests for the next 2 weeks!

✧. ┊ Series Masterlist

P.S. Fingers crossed next month I can—finally—post a new chapter! Adult life has been kicking my ass these past months so please be patient with me! — But my inbox is always open to talk! :)

— All the dialogue sources are linked!

“These are way too many, omg, I’m being squeezed by these pillows, love!” “Well I just, you know, thought that since you like to hold on to me while you sleep but we can’t do that right now, I decided to bring you all these.” “Aww, I appreciate it, baby, but would you mind moving some? And even though I do have these, I will miss your warmth beside me.” 

“You weren’t uncomfortable back there, right? I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” “No, no, I wasn’t. Thank you for doing that.”

"You had no business looking that good back there."

"Those could be our kids one day." "What...?" 

“They don’t know you, love. They don’t know how much we love each other. Let them think what they want to. It doesn’t matter, you know why? Because you are enough. We are enough.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect, sweetheart. I want you to be who you are.”

“I…I wasn’t sure if you’d like this, so I just bought all the colors they had there.”

“Stoooop. Stop making me all…” “All… what?”

“Sorry. I just... like seeing that I have an effect on you, I guess.”

“Life would suck complete testicles if it weren’t for you.” 

“I like seeing you this way. so… at ease. makes me wonder how anyone could ever purposely put you under stress and live with themselves afterwards.”

"I know you're struggling right now, and it's okay, okay? We'll get through this."

“With you, I see a forever I’ve never envisioned before. Not that I didn’t want to, it’s more because I wasn’t able to… At least until I met you.”

“God, I really don’t want to leave”.

“I’m so deftly terrified of falling in love. Because what if I end up with a broken heart? That thought itself is just so scary to me. I want to, but I can’t get over that fear.” “Then how about you let me be that first step you take into falling in love? I can help you get over that fear, if you’d let me.” 

“People say they fall in love like they fall asleep — slowly, then all at once. But the way I fell for you can only be described as that feeling when you’re drifting off to sleep, only to feel like you’re falling, oh-so-suddenly. So suddenly that it ends up startling you awake; heart racing in your chest because it feels like you fell off the precipice of a cliff. It’s quick and sudden, and there’s no slowness to it. It’s a crash and burn type of love that I feel.”

“They say the second time’s the charm.” “Was the first time not charming enough for you?” “No, but the second time’s going to be even better, I promise.” 

“If people can hate for no reason,  then I can love for no reason too.”

“I dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. Not when it’s you.”

“I don’t know how to ask for help i just— I’ve never had anyone to ask for help from before.  so…this is me trying i guess.  I need it and i’m afraid to ask for it.  That's the best I can do.”

“You really think a relationship should be that hard?” “No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.”

“If you don’t kiss me, right now…” “Then what?” “Then I will have to do it myself.”

"I think destiny wants us to be together, and you should never argue with destiny.”

“What do you think is our song?”

“I can’t concentrate, when you look at me like that.” “Well, you should be concentrating on me instead, so…”

“Sing for me.” “What would you like to hear?”

“I feel like I can breathe better with you around.”

“You’re much better off without me.” “You’re not the judge of that.”

“I love you, okay?! And I can’t stay in your life when I’m just ruining it.” “You can’t just say that and don’t wait for me to answer.”

“Your mom is coming over today.” “Tell her to bring fried rice or she’s not invited.” “You tell her, she’s your mom.” “But she likes you more!”

“Wait, you can’t swim?” “I was always more into sports on land where, you know, I can’t drown.” “I will teach you!”

“Every night before bed I write three good things that happened to me. And every night I find myself writing down your name.”

“God, don’t do that. You’re going to make me go on Santa’s naughty list tonight.”

“This heart belongs to you, and only you. And I’d hope you want to keep it for a very, very long time.”

“What matters isn’t the place, but the person you’re with at that place. So this is to say, being with you is enough for me. So long as you are there, then all is well.”

“If you don’t wanna spend the night in a empty house, you could always come over to mine.” 

"Hey, i think i can fit over here in this corner." "What are you, a plant?" "Maybe. you shine on me every day, after all."

“I don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that i hope you’re in it. “

“Annoying you is what I’m best at.”

“You get to curl up in my lap, and I get to watch a cinematic masterpiece in peace and quiet. i think this is a pretty sweet deal.”

“This is your home, just as it is mine.”

“That was your master plan? Really?” “No, my master plan was having no plan actually.”

“When life gives you lemons, squirt the juice into your enemies’ eyes and watch them whimper.”

“Maybe i'm too late to be your first, but right now, i'm preparing myself to be your last.”

“Over everything, I choose you.”

“You’ve given me so many memories, I'd hate it if you become one”

“I hope you heal from the things you dont wanna talk about”

“I was gonna marry her…”

“Because you always been my ticket home…”

“Have you ever gone stargazing?” “yeah, i’ve seen your eyes a few times.”

"Oh God- why are you half-naked?" "nothing you haven't seen before, love" "it's freezing, go put on a shirt-" "Nah, you can warm me up." 

“You never have to fear that you’re losing me.”

“Aw, you brought out the smile.” “Which smile?” “The one reserved for the people you love.” “How could you even tell?” “Because that’s how you smile at me.”

“No, you’re not allowed to smile at me like that.”

“This is not some predestined soulmate shit or fate or whatever. I love you all on my own. Because you’re awesome and because I want to.”

“You know, I prefer you naked, but that dress also looks breathtaking on you.”

“Believe in the me that believes in you”

“Work can wait. You need rest.”

“I got the recipe from your mom, i hope i did it justice.”

“I think i deserve a cuddle for letting you stick your icy little feet on me all night.”

“Ok…so, umm I made this playlist for our first month anniversary. I hope it’s not too bad!” “Omg, this is- I can’t believe it! I always wanted someone to make me a playlist!” 

“You already are a handful. Together, you guys are insufferable.”

“I’m right here.”

“Careful, or I will fall for you.” “You’ll be fine. I’ll buy you some knee pads.” “Knee pads but no helmet?” “If you’re falling for me, you’ve already taken a hit to the head.”

“Uh-oh.” “What’s wrong?” “That’s their ‘oh, you messed with the wrong bitch, bitch’ face.”

“You look like an idiot.” “You know, other people would say it’s nice to see me so happy. Or that I have a beautiful smile.”

“I’ve never seen you this happy before.”

“(Congrats.) You’re one of us now.”

“Please, never apologise for wanting to be loved.”

“Come on. I’ll show you how to dance”

"Are you still mad at me? I mean, it's okay if you are. I'm mad at myself, too."

"Put your head on my lap and sleep a little."

 “I don’t want to go to bed angry…can we please talk about this?” 

“Your cheeks are really soft.” “Stop squishing them!”

“You didn’t have to do anything…” “But i wanted to.”

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 3

Start with Pt. 1 HERE! ~ Jump back to previous Pt. 2 HERE!

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Lucien continues to be a slight jerk, lots of awkward fluff, some sexually suggestive scenes/dialogue, fade-to-black style end of chapter

A/N: I apologize to anyone who's lactose intolerant, both for the choice of drink in this chapter and for the sheer levels of cheesiness.

It did snow that weekend, and heavily. Neil’s movie pick turned out to be perfect for the frosty atmosphere. You curled up on your couch and popped the VHS in, holding a hot drink with your fingers wrapped tightly around the mug to warm yourself. 

It was an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon. Though, you found yourself wishing that Neil could be curled up on the couch next to you. He seemed like the type who would have all sorts of fun trivia, and be able to spout off every movie that each actor had been in previously. That night, your mind sifted through fantasies of the two of you, cooped up together, sheltering out a storm. Preferably with less dire consequences than had been in The Shining.

The next morning, the world was awash with sparkly white. Although it took a few hours from the time you woke up to actually be able to see anything; of course, it was still dark by the time you were unlocking the door to your cafe. But slowly, the early morning’s pink light crept over the snow dunes, until finally everything outside your window looked almost blindingly bright. The reflection of the ice crystals somehow made winter feel just a little less harsh.

At around nine, Lucien came into your shop, ordered his usual, and reached across the counter to accept the paper cup and marker you offered him. You were already getting used to his idiosyncrasies. 

“So, I know Neil wouldn’t want me to tell you this,” Lucien began, marking an elegant cursive “L” on the cup as he began to write his name. “But I feel like it’s my responsibility as the foil-slash-trickster character in his life to do it anyway.”

You smiled, but furrowed your brows. You had no idea what Lucien was talking about. Was he always this… cinematic when getting involved in other people’s business?

“Okayyy…” you replied.

Lucien passed the cup and marker back to you, and you started getting his order ready. 

“You know Neil has a huge crush on you, right?” Lucien deadpanned.

“Umm…”

Your words failed you, and you froze with your hand in the jar of espresso beans, halfway through digging out a scoop. Lucien continued, undeterred.

“Before you mistake me for some kind of hopeless romantic,” he said, “I’m really just doing this to advance the plot past the ‘Neil fawns over his clueless love interest’ point. I’m sick of listening to him lament over whether or not he should ask you out.”

“W-why tell me instead of just pushing Neil to do it, then?” you asked.

“Oh, don’t worry - I’m playing this from both angles,” replied Lucien. “But if you’re not interested, I can tell Neil-”

“No!” you blurted, a little too quickly. “I mean, uh, you really don’t have to get involved…”

“Mm-hmm,” hummed Lucien, slowly. “Well, if you’ve got the balls to make a move, could you do it sooner than later? I can really only watch Neil make puppy-dog eyes out the window for so long.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Neil, elbow resting on the counter and hand holding up his chin while he sighed, longingly. It was a dramatic image, but it seemed to fit him. You stifled a smile.

You handed Lucien his coffee and told him to have a good day, not making any promises about Neil. But of course, you were secretly brimming with excitement over the knowledge that he liked you back. You had spent plenty of time fawning after him the past few days. But you hadn’t allowed yourself to seriously consider the notion that he might feel the same way you did. Your heart sang as you swept the floor of your little coffee shop, and you hummed while you worked, lungs filling with anticipation.

That afternoon, you had a few errands to run after closing up your shop, but you made it a point to stop by Gumshoe so that you could return Neil’s video. More as an excuse to see him than anything, but the back of your mind wondered if maybe you should take Lucien’s advice and make a move. What kind of move, you had no idea - and you still didn’t have a plan as you pushed open the door of Neil’s store, making the little bell ring with your arrival.

“Hey, you’re back!” exclaimed Neil, hunched over behind the counter. 

He came out to greet you, standing at an awkward distance that was a bit too close for regular friendliness but too far to offer you a hug.

“Oh boy, coffee girl,” Lucien called from the couch, keeping up appearances on his antagonistic role.

“Ignore Lucien,” Neil told you, smiling in a way that made your heart do somersaults.

“I usually try to, unless I’m selling him coffee,” you joked, suddenly self-conscious about coming across as too mean.

Neil laughed, though, and your anxieties melted away. At least for a second, until he fixed you with a conspiratorial look that had your stomach in knots to match your pounding heart.

“I won’t say anything if you want to start triple charging him,” Neil said lowly.

“I can hear you!” Lucien shouted.

Lucien’s outburst broke the tension, and you and Neil were laughing easily with each other again. You wondered if it was just your imagination that something felt different between you now, as if there were many things left unsaid. Had Lucien told Neil that you liked him back? Probably. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, if it really did help get you past the awkward pining phase.

“So, what brings you in today?” asked Neil. Was it your imagination, or did he seem more nervous than usual?

“I’m here to return your VHS,” you replied, pulling the tape out of your bag. “Don’t want any late fees, right?”

“Wow, you watched it already?”

“Yep, and it was just as atmospheric as you said.” You smiled as you added, “But very creepy; I wish I hadn’t watched it alone.”

You were hoping that Neil would pick up on the hint, but instead he frowned a little as he took the tape from you.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh no,” you hurried to assure him. “I just mean I wish I’d had someone to watch it with.”

From the couch, Lucien coughed loudly. Neil, oblivious, still didn’t get the hint.

“Well, next time I’ll pick something less scary,” he promised. Your heart sank a little, but brightened when he said, “So, when can I stop by for my next drink so I’ll owe you another movie?”

There was something strangely endearing about hearing him so eager to be indebted to you. You remembered how Lucien had described Neil as having puppy-dog eyes, and now you could definitely picture it. The way he was looking at you, so much excitement over the idea of recommending a movie for you to watch.

“How about right now?” you offered. You were also eager to snatch up the opportunity. “The cafe’s closed, but I could whip you up something. I have an idea I think you’ll really like.”

You looked up at Neil through your eyelashes, trying to act a little demure. Knowing that he had a crush on you made you bolder.

“Sure,” Neil agreed, a smile lighting up his face. “Just let me grab my coat.”

You followed him to the door, and watched as he shrugged into his jacket and put on a wool hat. Before leaving, Neil called over his shoulder. 

“Lucien! You’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Lucien gave a thumbs-up, and threw you a knowing look. You were grateful that Neil had already turned around, pushing through the door before holding it open for you. It was already dark outside, and the streetlights illuminated the fresh snow as you walked down the street to your shop.

Neil kicked at a snowdrift as he walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. You mirrored him, shoving your hands deep into the folds of your coat, even though you wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his fingers around yours.

“I’m excited to see what you have planned,” Neil said.

It took you a moment to realize he was talking about the drink. Your breath puffed out in front of you as you spoke.

“I think you’ll really like this one,” you replied. “Very sweet; just like you.”

You glanced over to see Neil’s cheeks turn bright red. Maybe it was just the chilly air…

“I remember you said that the first time we met, too,” Neil laughed. “That I was sweet. You still think so, huh?”

“I do,” you replied, letting your shoulder bump against his as you walked. “But only because it’s true.”

You reached the front of your shop, and you bent down to twist your key in the lock. A burst of warm air rushed out when you opened the door.

“Come on in and warm up,” you told Neil. “Your face is red.”

Neil’s cheeks blushed an even deeper shade. That time was definitely not from the cold. He stepped in, and you followed, shutting the door behind you.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Neil smiled as you hung up your scarf. “Can we make this one a double and share a drink while I take you on a walk? I know a really nice park around here.”

You liked the sound of that. Being new to the area, you hadn’t had a lot of time to explore, and spending more time with Neil was something you wouldn’t say no to.

“That’s a great idea,” you beamed. “Two caramel hot chocolates, coming up.”

Neil seemed to perk up at your mention of hot chocolate. He followed you over to the counter as you stepped behind it to whip up your latest attempt at finding a drink that Neil would enjoy. You figured that everyone liked hot chocolate; unlike coffee, it was almost guaranteed to be universally loved. You poured the drinks into two to-go cups, and added whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel sauce to each.

“That looks amazing.”

Neil was practically drooling, and you knew you had hit on something good.

“See, this is why you should have just told me in the first place what you like,” you teased. 

“But if I had, would we ever have seen each other again after that first night?” Neil countered.

He had a point.

“Probably, but… maybe you wouldn’t have ended up lending me that movie,” you relented. 

“Exactly.” Neil took an eager sip, and licked at the whipped cream stuck to his lip. “And then, things might have turned out differently. A little chaos always leads to better adventures.”

It was an interesting thought, and you smiled as you recalled all the little swirls of chaos that Neil had added to your life. Even in the short time since you’d met him, life seemed a little more exciting and fun. He was different from you, but that was a good thing.

“Is that something Lucien says?” you guessed.

“Jonathan, actually,” Neil admitted. “Although Lucien is an agent of chaos.”

You laughed, and carried your own drink to the front door. Neil trailed behind you, shrugging his jacket back on.

“Come on, let’s get going before things get too chaotic around here,” you joked. “I was promised a nice walk through the park. And unlike some people, I’m not against saying that that’s exactly what I want.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck, and you and Neil once again braved the chilly air, with hot drinks now in hand. The warmth seeped through your gloves, keeping your fingers comfortably guarded against the frigid temperature. As you took a sip, the hot chocolate warmed you from the inside as well, and you felt content as Neil guided you down the street toward the little park. As you got close, you caught glimpses of bright lights sparkling in the dark.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped as they fully came into view. “So pretty.”

The trees, bare of their leaves, had been wrapped in twinkling yellow lights. The whole park was full of them, and the beautiful display seemed to shine over the fresh snow. The effect was dazzling. Neil gave you a little nudge.

“Pretty like you.”

As he prodded you with his elbow, it was suddenly your turn to get flustered. You felt your face heat up, and looked down at your cup of hot chocolate so that Neil wouldn’t see you smiling.

You walked together in silence for a few minutes, taking in the spectacle. 

“So,” Neil’s voice cut through the chilly air, breath still puffing in front of him. “I’m sure you’ve probably already figured this out, but… I really like you.”

Your heart flipped with joy. Hearing the words come out of Neil’s own mouth was enough to send you soaring.

“Lucien… might have told me,” you admitted.

Neil laughed, an adorable little chuckle of embarrassment that made you fall a bit harder for him. He stopped walking and turned to face you, setting his paper cup down on the freshly-shoveled pathway. You did the same, wanting your hands free for whatever was going to happen next.

“Well,” Neil continued, “I hope he at least didn’t tell you about this. I got you a little gift.”

Neil reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, offering it to you.

“Since I technically still owe you for that first coffee,” he said. 

You opened the box, and a smile spread across your face. Inside was a pair of tiny charms on a gold chain. One was a little coffee cup, and the other was a VHS tape. The gesture was so adorable you were scared that your heart might burst.

“Neil, this is so cute!” you cried. “It’s us!”

A look of relief washed over Neil’s face.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. 

“Of course I do. Neil, you really are the sweetest.”

A gust of sudden, frigid air blew through the park, causing you both to shrink into yourselves. Neil pulled the collar of his jacket up, trying to keep out the chill. You laughed.

“But you still don’t bundle up as much as you should,” you teased.

You took a step closer to Neil, untucking your scarf and wrapping it around the both of you. Your forehead pressed against his as you stood, bundled together against the cold. The frosty tip of Neil’s nose touched yours when you looked up at him.

“Maybe I just like having an excuse to share scarves with you,” Neil teased back.

His hands were shoved back in his pockets, and you moved a little closer, wishing he would put his arms around you.

“You know, you don’t actually owe me for that coffee,” you said softly. “I told you, the first one was free so you’d get addicted.”

Finally, Neil reached out and held you by the waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Well, I did get addicted to something, but it wasn’t the coffee…”

Your eyes closed, and Neil pressed his lips against yours. You could taste the sweetness of caramel as he kissed you, his warm arms wrapping around you a little tighter.

Neil’s eyes were still half-lidded when you pulled away. You felt your cheeks burn again.

“So does this mean you like me, too?” Neil asked. 

You giggled, the cold puff of your breath evaporating between you.

“Neil, you can be so dense,” you teased.

You leaned in for a second kiss, just as sweet as the first.

“Okay, I’m going to assume that’s a ‘yes,’” Neil breathed.

You nodded happily.

“This might be a bit forward, but… what do you say we get out of the cold?” you asked, reaching up to take hold of Neil’s collar as you pressed your body against him.

“You mean like… head back to my place?”

You nodded again, smiling as you bit your lip.

“Oh. Yeah. Yes - definitely,” Neil answered. 

He was so cute when he was flustered. You kissed him again, a little more passionately, and felt something start to press against you. You broke the kiss to tease Neil a little more, unable to help yourself.

“Is that a VHS in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Possibly… both?” Neil replied.

Your laughter echoed through the night air as you wrapped your arms tightly around Neil’s neck, throwing your head back. Being with him felt so freeing. Like you could laugh and joke and be yourself, so easily, while Neil did the same. 

“Let’s get going, then,” you whispered. “A little chaos makes the best adventures, right?”

Read Pt. 4 HERE!

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 10

10 - Maybe Both, Maybe Neither

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc [vallie]

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5.8k

summary: after waking up next to each other vallie & nicholas go their separate ways. vallie goes to visit an old friend who may be more than friendly. nicholas goes to sober up noah but doesn’t expect him to pull the curtain back on his resentment.

warnings: mentions about alcoholism/AA meetings/cheating, arguing, noah being annoying but what's new, tea is spilled !!, vallie is vulnerable for once in her life, lots of dialogue, alternating POVs sorry 🥲

A/N: Sorry it's been like 2 months since I’ve updated, it literally did not feel like it 🥲 school & life are kicking my ass lol + this chapter ended up being so complicated / difficult

Also! This chapter introduces a very mild crossover with Christian 'Kras' Anthony from the band Chase Atlantic - he's being used as a fun little temporary reoccurring side character. Don't worry, knowing who he is isn't necessary to understand his character lol i just think he's cute🥰

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS-

A jarring buzzing jolts me awake. I sit up a bit with scrunched eyes trying to follow the noise with a wandering patting hand. The noise leads to Vallie’s phone rattling on my bedside table next to her. I grab it and sleepily ignore the call out of habit.

In my still half-sleep state, I don’t want to be anywhere else besides where my body was curled up against her. I return to my spot with my arm around the brunette, tugging her closer. Her scent fills my nostrils when I nuzzle into her neck. The smell of her hair is peppermint-y and the scent on her skin reminds me of marshmallows and… matcha?

Whatever it is, it’s warm, cozy, and smells so yummy it makes me want to eat her again.

Before I have the pleasure of manifesting that thought into reality, her phone goes off vibrating again, this time making me significantly more aggravated.

I snatch the phone looking at her caller ID – the name plastered across the screen:

Christian

with some emojis I’m far too sleepy to decipher.

Christian?

I decide not to ignore her phone call from an evidently urgent caller.

“Hey, Hey.” I gently nudge her shoulder. “Your phone has been going off.”

She lets out a sleepy groan that is probably the cutest noise I’ve ever heard.

She takes one look at the ID and immediately ignores it and shoves it under the pillow.  

Odd.

She yawns and rubs her eye, “What time is it?”

“I’m not sure.” I try to look at the edges of my window covered with blackout curtains trying to gauge even the time of day. “You have your phone, check it?”

Her fingers tap against the mattress. “It’s not that important.”

“Who’s Christian?” I blurt out without thinking.

From the angle I’m at, I can see her eyes widen a bit at the question.

She clears her throat. “What?”

“The person who kept calling you. It was someone named Christian?”

“Oh um,” She bites down on my lip, seemingly contemplating her answer. “He’s a friend.”

I’m filled with a feeling I’m not sure I enjoy nor one I should be feeling.

“A friend?” I ask, unconvinced.

It’s none of my business. It doesn’t matter who he is.

“Yeah, a friend.” She scrunches her brows at the wall. “Why do you care who’s calling me?”

“I-I don’t.” I reply but I know I’m a shit liar and I probably don’t sound very convinced. “I was just wondering.”

“Right.” She yawns then gets up in a panic like she just realized where she is. “Oh my god we fell asleep.”

“Yeah…I figured you gathered that by now.” I said falling down flat beside her.

“Fuck Nick, how am I gonna get out of here?” She scrambles for her phone beneath the pillow to finally check the time. “Fuck, fuck, I have to leave.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. Let me just check out the house, I can take you to get your car.” I pull myself out of bed and let myself stretch out my arms above my head.

“Fuck.” She mutters, readjusting her entire torso in her tight top. “Remind me to never sleep in a corset ever again. I need to get out of this, can I borrow something?”

Her attention lands on me and at first, her forest greens are inquisitive and calm but when she actually looks at me, they widen. Her eyes slowly trail down my body and land where my shirt hangs above the exposed skin of my hips.

Watching her tongue slide between her lips makes my heart thump in my ear drums so loud I can barely hear what she’s saying.

 “Also, can you um,” She clears her throat and looks back up at me, “Help me get this off?”

“Sure.” I nod and drop my arms back down.

She shifts in the bed so the zipper in the back of the faux-corset faces me. My fingers delicately gather her dark chocolate locks and drape them over her shoulder to get them out of my way. Her tan skin curves so beautifully from her neck to her shoulder that I feel as though if I don’t kiss her there it would somehow be insulting.

The need to kiss her there feels as necessary as air, so lean down and press a hesitant kiss to the crook of her neck as I begin unzipping her top.

She doesn’t stop me, which I was sure she would stop me now in the daylight.

Another kiss up, I linger more there.

Then another in the same spot, then another, and another, and another – until I am fully peppering her skin with open mouth kisses and my hands roam her curves.

She lets out little noises the closer I get to her ear that remind me of the ones she gave me when my tongue was inside her.

It’s not until I’m nipping and sucking at her skin that she speaks.

“Nick…” She whines in a tone that says ‘you know better’.

I tug down the rest of her zipper.

My lips still lazily drag up her neck.

I hum against her and let my hands wander down her sides to her hips. “Let me make you feel good.”

She lets out a shuddered whine but not a red or green light.

My hands round her hips giving them a gentle back and forth rub, “I need to taste you again.” I press another kiss against the sensitive skin below her ear and I can feel goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

My fingers burn everywhere they meet her skin and beg to be everywhere  they shouldn’t be.

She closes her eyes and lets herself breathe for a second.

“Nicholas.” She repeats, more sternly this time. “I have to leave before anyone sees me.”

“I know.” I say simply and pull away, strategically resting both hands over my semi.

I know I shouldn’t press more. I know shouldn’t try to convince more. But god do I want to. All I’m thinking about is fucking her senseless.

She keeps a hand on the front of the corset to keep it flush on her skin. “Could I please borrow something?” She reminds me of her original request.

“Oh yeah sure, sorry.” I quickly scan the room for the closest item.

I spot a barely worn Deftones shirt and hand it to her.

“Thanks.”

 She just sort of stares at me then makes a ‘turn-around’ motion with her hand.

“Oh, sorry.” I shift away from her. “It’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Shut up.”

I hear her let out a sigh of relief, probably from finally being freed from the constricting top.

“Okay you can turn around now.”

I turn back to her and find what I expected: her in my shirt.

What I didn’t expect was to somehow find her even more attractive in my shirt than even a lace corset.

As much as I’d like for her to stay, I fear that if I don’t get her out now, I’ll devour her whole.

“I’ll just… go scope out the area.” I thumb over my shoulder towards the door.

“Good idea.” She nods.

I very quietly sneak out of my room into the empty hallway, gently closing the bedroom door behind me.

After tiptoeing around the house, I find everyone asleep as it seems still quite early, at least for them.  

The drive back to the bar is quiet and somewhat awkward. I’m not sure if it’s because of what we did or if I crossed some sort of invisible line and made her upset.

Or maybe both,

Maybe neither.

Maybe I’m over thinking it.

We haven’t talked about anything, no rules, no boundaries. I don’t know how I would bring that up to begin with. What the hell are we doing? And how do I feel about it. How do I want to feel about it? 

We say goodbye and it’s stiff and odd. I’m not sure if I should kiss her? Or treat her like my colleague?

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

That one feels more like a maybe neither.

The way she acted this morning makes me think that whatever… this is, is over.

I know it should be done, but there is a part of me that doesn’t want to stop. At least not yet. Maybe if I got one more fix.

Regardless how I feel about it, it was a mistake. I knew that the first time, I knew it last night and I know it now.

Why did I let this happen. How did I let this happen?

I tap my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel once I’ve parked at home.

I know Folio wouldn’t really care but if Noah or Jolly found out about this?

Oh my god.

I don’t even want to think about what would happen.

All I know is two things.

One, I can’t keep fucking thinking about this – I can’t keep thinking about her.

Two, I unfortunately know what I need to do when I walk back through our front door.

-VALLIE-

As soon as my car door shuts behind me, I let out a long sigh that I wasn’t aware I was holding.

I fold my arms around my steering wheel and rest my forehead against it.

“Fuck.”

The entire ride home there was this nausea festering in the pit of my stomach.

I like being with Nicholas.

I like being with Nicholas too much.

And this stupid fucking Deftones shirt is too comfortable and smells too much like him – and I like it more than I should. And I need to get home as soon as possible to get it off me.

This is absolutely the last thing I needed – catching feelings or whatever the fuck is filling my chest with butterflies from someone I’m representing.

This is the band that I shouldn’t have even taken on in the first place, and now I’m here on the verge of vomiting because I miss the way his bed feels. This was not the plan.

I shake my head from the the thoughts as I walk through my front door. It’s just the dickmatization talking. That’s it. I like his dick and that’s all.

His huge fucking…

No.

No.

And god his fucking tongue...

No.

No.

This absolutely cannot be happening.

I won’t let this happen.

I need to nip this in the bud before it goes any further.

I chuck my phone and keys on my dresser and use my palms to lean against the edge.

An abrupt buzzing of my iPhone against the hard wood shocks me from my dissociation.

Christian

Christian

Christian

…could be exactly what I need.

I slide the answer bar across the screen and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hey Kras.” I smile, using his nickname.

“Val!” He chimes cheerfully on the other line. “I’ve been trying to get ya all day!”

“I’m busy Kras, you know that.” I roll my eyes playfully. “What’s up, what do you want so badly?”

“Tour ended last week and I’m staying in LA for a bit for some band stuff before I head back home to Sydney.” He pauses. “I wanna see you. I need to talk to you about something.”

I press my lips together and take a deep breath, suddenly stressed about what exactly that meant.

“Okay. When and where do you wanna meet up?”

“Today? My place?”

“Okay, see you then.”

After a much-needed shower I’m finally at the door of his temporary apartment. I smooth out my outfit, which wasn’t much really, just some sweats with a cropped tank. With as long as I’ve known Kras, it didn’t really matter what I looked like, but I still wanted to look cute. I use my hand to flatten my tied up hair to make sure there’s no ridges before I knock on his door. It doesn’t take long for him to answer it.

“Val.” He greets with his signature big goofy smile.

The tall, long-haired blonde envelopes me into giant hug and I embrace it. His scent fills my nose with memories; it’s soft, comforting, and most of all, fun.

Christian and I have always been close, he’s the closest thing I have to a best friend. Our friendship has always been…interesting to say the least. I think most people would consider our dynamic complicated, but to us it’s quite simple.

I give him a good, hard squeeze around his midsection. “Augh, Kras I’ve missed you.”

He reciprocates the squeeze and places a kiss atop my head. “I missed you too.”

I pull away with a smile and smack his arm, “You don’t text me enough! I didn’t even know your tour ended.”

“Me? The phone works both ways Miss ‘You know I’m busy’” He mocks me jokingly.

“God, I forget how strong your Aussie accent is in person.” I chuckle, diverting the conversation.

I shiver at the ice-cold chill I get from his AC and rub my arms for warmth.

“Fuck it’s cold as shit in here.” It’s so frigid even my teeth chatter.

“Yeah, sorry I like it freezing. You want a jacket or something?” He offers then crosses the room when I nod.

He picks through some clothes in an open suitcase and hands me a multicolored flannel. I pull the flannel over my arms letting the material engulf my body.

After a brief catching up about tour and life, I lean against the wall and cross my arms.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about.” I cut straight to it.

He bites down on his lip, and I can’t tell if he’s excited or nervous.

Maybe both, maybe neither.

“We need a manager.” He blurts out.

“Oh? I thought you were working with-”

“We want you Val.”

I laugh, because surely, he can’t be serious. I don’t belong to an agency and work my two clients freelance, all on my own. There’s no way I could take on another band, especially one as successful as Chase on top of the other two.

“What? No, no, I absolutely couldn’t manage you guys…”

He steps towards me and trails his fingers down my arms and hooks onto my hands. “Sure you can. You used to, remember?”

I shake my head, “Oh, you know that doesn’t count Christian. We were nobodies – you were nobodies. Of course I could manage your measly little 10,000 Instagram followers.”

He squeezes my hands and tugs on my arms. “C’mon Val. It’ll be like the good old days. It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know about you, but living in a tiny LA apartment with three men struggling to afford food wasn’t really that good or fun.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs on my arms again. “For old times’ sake?”

I shake my head, “No, no, I already have enough on my plate. I just took on another band not that long ago.”

“Please Val, for us?” His brows curve up, and he gives me the biggest hazel puppy dog eyes that he knows I can’t say no to. “For me?”

I groan and rest my head back against the wall. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

His hands leave mine and find their way to my hips, slipping under the flannel so his hands are holding onto bare skin between my tank and my sweats. His forehead presses against mine.

“Is there anything I can do to help change that answer?” He asks between the small space separating us while his finger traces my jaw line tilting my chin up a bit.

I tug at my lip – this is partially why I came here right? To nip my Nick problem in the bud, to break the dickmatization spell.

“I don’t know, maybe.” I tease up at him with round eyes.

“Hm.” He hums and leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips and I freeze.

Even though we’ve done this a million times before, it just feels wrong now. Nicholas and I aren’t even… anything, we’re just fucking, right? But it still feels odd.

I know this feeling.

And I know what it means.

Fuck.

I pull away and give a little head shake.

“Plum?” He asks using our code word for when we’re interested in or dating someone else.

I groan loudly, shuffle past him to his bed in the studio apartment and dramatically fall flat, face down onto it. Then let out an even louder, longer groan.

He walks over and gently sits criss-cross on the bed next to me.

“Must be a pretty good Plum to have you like this.”

Our friendship was simple. We’re the rare example that a friends-with-benefits can be truly, purely platonic and casual. Kras is a generally affectionate guy, even with his bandmates. And he is one of the only people I feel comfortable being affectionate with, so I let myself be affectionate with him.

We are platonically affectionate best friends who fuck when we’re single. It sounds impossible but it’s who we are and who we have been for almost 10 years. 

It’s nice, cozy, and convenient. Easy.

He’s safe, familiar, and reliable.

Which is more than I can say for any friendship or relationship I’ve ever had.

I turn my head towards him still flat against the bed.

“It’s bad Kras.”

“How bad?”

I chew on my bottom lip. “I work with him.”

His eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“…In the band you were talking about?”

I turn back to hide my face in his duvet. “Oh yeah.”

“Val noooo.”

I chuckle at how his ‘no’s sound like ‘naaauur’s.

“I knooow.” I whine into the sheets.

“Singer?”

I shake my head against the duvet.

“Guitarist?”

“Bassist.” I reply muffled in bedding.

“Oof.”

A laugh escapes me at his reaction. I pop my head up at him, “Stop, I know.”

I pull myself up and cross the bed to sit next to him and lay my head on his shoulder.

“Maybe I just really like his dick.” I state confidently staring out the large window across the room. I blankly watch the daytime city lights flicker across the highrise-littered skyline.

“You think so?” He asks looking down at me a little. “I’ve never seen you get like this over just good dick. You’re pretty cut and dry about like…emotions. You’re good at separating sex from feelings.” He laughs and nudges me. “That’s why we work so well.”

I groan and hide my face in his shoulder because I know he’s right. He’s always right when it comes to shit like this.

“He sang to me Kras.”

“Oh god…was he any good?”

I feel my cheeks heat up and I nod against his arm, “It was so pretty.”

He laughs and tickles my side, “Look at you! You’re smitten! I never thought I’d see the day.”

I grab the nearest pillow and smack him with it, “Shut up!” then fall back flat and cover my face with it.

There’s a silence between us for a bit, a million things running through my mind, but Kras speaks for me.

“You know you can’t love him, right?” He says gently.

My brows furrow immediately, I slam the pillow down and shoot straight up.

“WHOA, whoa whoa.” I cut through the air with my hand. “Nobody ever said anything about…the L word. I do not…love him.” I can barely get the word out as if it’s something forbidden. “I barely fucking know him. I just like his dick.”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “You can’t like him. You know that right?”

“I don’t even know if I like him. We’re just fucking. That’s all.”

He glares at me with a face that screams, ‘yeah right’. “Well, fine, you know you can’t keep fucking him.”

I let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, I know. I thought coming here to fuck you would help.”

He laughs then tapers off in thought.

“Maybe we don’t actually have to fuck in order to help.” He suggests.

I raise a brow at him, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean… guys normally don’t just sing to girls they’re casually hooking up with.”

“Okay…?” I motion for him to keep going.

“So, if it comes up or anything, you could just lie.” He shrugs.

“Lie about what?”                             

“About like, fucking someone else. If he likes you enough to sing to you, he probably won’t be happy if you tell him you’re fucking someone else. So, he’ll stop trying to fuck you.”

I chew on my thumbnail in thought, he’s right. Like always.

“Maybe. I don’t really know if he’d even care. We never really talking about anything… I thought we just had a silent agreement about just fucking, he never said anything about-”

“He sang to you Val.”

I anxiously twirl the ends of my ponytail and chew on my bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

He gives me the most ‘are you for real’ glare.

“Okay, okay.” I deflate. “IF it comes up, I’ll mention something.”

“Just don’t say who I am. I don’t know him, he could beat my ass." He laughs. "Plus, it would be pretty awkward for him to find out that you’re fucking a hot guitarist from your other band.” He smirks cheekily.

“Shut up.” I elbow his side playfully, “I never said yes.”

“But you will.”

I chew on my lip thinking it over.

On one hand, I’m already insanely busy and overworked with the two artists I’m already managing.

On the other hand, as odd as they are, they are old and close friends of mine. It wouldn’t be like managing strangers or learning a whole new fanbase, I helped build the foundation of the one they have now back in 2014.

And it would be a good distraction.

If this plan works out with Nick, maybe I could move on from Plum status and I can actually focus on my job.

“Fine. I’ll do it. BUT,” I hold a finger pointed towards him menacingly, “ONLY temporarily.”

“Ah yes! I knew you would!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around me and tackling me to the bed, pressing various ‘thank you’ kisses to my cheek.

“Okay, okay enough.” I chuckle trying to escape his grasp.

-NICHOLAS-

I let a long sigh at the bottom of the stairs, shifting my weight between both feet. I tap my fingers on the wooden railing anxiously. I probably shouldn’t be this rattled over something I’ve done a million times before. But it doesn’t get any easier.

I push myself up the stairs in one driving force knowing that it has to be me. It’s always me.

Never Folio. Never Jolly.

It’s always been my job.

There’s no response when I knock on Noah’s bedroom door.

I knock again, no answer.

I knock again, no answer.

So, I let myself in.

As expected, Noah’s passed out with a fresh bottle of whiskey half drank on his nightstand. His room still in as much filth as it’s been for a while. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen his room even remotely messy a handful of times, and this is the worst I’ve ever seen it. In the past I’ve known the reasons behind the mess or the drinking – usually over a breakup or some depression spell – but this time he kept me in the dark. I have no fucking clue what's going on with him.

If I wasn’t so aggravated with him already, the mess of the room would worry me even more than I already am.

I cross the threshold of garbage between the door and his bed and pat his cheek awake.

“Noah.”

Sleepy snores tumble from his mouth and while one might find them endearing, right now, they’re pissing me the fuck off.

“Noah.” I say more sternly, nudging him more. No luck.

I try various other ways, and nothing works. He’s out cold.

So, I try a tried-and-true classic.

I climb on top of him and straddle his waist over the duvet, one knee at each side of his hips. His boney exposed shoulders offer a great anchor so I grab them, shaking him awake.

He comes-to slowly, droopy heavy lids struggling to open. His fist goes to rub his tired eye but winces when he’s reminded of the swollen black and blue that surrounds it.  

“The fuck are you doing?” He groans, stealing a pillow from beside him to cover his face. “Get off of me.”

I snatch the pillow from his grasp and toss it across the room. “No. You’re going to get up. You’re going to shower. And I’m taking you to a meeting.”

He shields his eyes with his arm. “I’m-I’m fine Nick, don’t need a meeting.” His words slurring together.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” I correct.

“I don’t need a meeting.” He hiccups and I can smell the alcohol radiating off him, seeping through his skin. “I’m not going. I'm just gonna sleep.”

I grab his wrists, pin them to the bed and get low to his face. “Oh you’re going. We’re gonna sober you up, starting with a shower.” I pull off him and stand beside the bed.

“Let’s go. C’mon.”

“No.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way has the same result. Let’s go.”

“No.”

I sigh, even though I knew it would end up like this. “Fine. Hard way it is.”

I yank the sheets off him and use two arms to scoop up his body by his midsection and throw him over my shoulder. He’s thin enough to where even I can lift and carry him easily – or maybe I’ve just gotten used to the weight of him in my arms.

“Nick let me fucking go.” He whines but doesn’t try to wiggle out of my grasp, probably too hungover to move that much.

With every bit of my strength, I carry his thin body to his guest bathroom.

I all but toss him into the shower, start the water, and fling the curtain closed.

“Hey! What the fuck!” He yells and shuts off the water immediately.

He slings the curtain open and snatches a towel off the nearest rack, wrapping it around his shirtless torso.

“What the fuck is your problem, Nicholas!” His hands frantically wipe the water from his face. 

I let out a frustrated groan and turn to leave. "Stop being a baby." 

He steps out of the tub and calls after me, “Hey, I’m not fucking done talking to you!”

The shower shock did exactly what I needed it to do, sober him up, but now I regret even waking him up.

“My problem is that you’re a fucking drunk Noah.” I snap turning back to him.

“I’m not a fucking drunk, I have it under control. You’re just fucking paranoid!” He steps into the hallway dripping water all over the carpet.

“I’m not fucking paranoid, Noah. I’m not letting you drink yourself to oblivion.”

His brows lift in offense, “Let me? What the fuck are you, my fucking keeper?”

“Sometimes it sure fucking feels like I am!” The words escape me before I can stop them.

He chuckles in disbelief, “Well, nobody fucking asked you to be.”

“It doesn’t matter if anyone asked me to, I have to because who the fuck else is gonna pick your sorry, bruised ass off a bar floor in the middle of the fucking day?” My hand helps exaggerate each word.

“Jolly or Folio would’ve.” He sasses, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah? And how long you think they’d put up with that?” I step closer to him. “Not for as long as I have, that’s for fucking sure.”

His eyes scrunch together like he’s hurt or offended.

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

“I won’t let you push out everyone in our lives Noah.”

His eyes land on me and he cocks his head to the right a bit like a dog processing a foreign noise.

“‘Push out everyone in our lives’ is that what this is actually about? Alice?”

My gaze locks on him and my hands curl into tight fists at my sides. There are many words I want to say but none seem able to leave my tongue.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious.” He steps back and points defensively at me. "I didn't push her out, you did!" 

My blood boils and burns as it courses through my veins. My eyes narrow at him.

“I know you fucked her Noah.” I shove my finger so hard into his chest that it nearly knocks him back.

“I didn’t even like her Nick! Why the fuck would I fuck her?” He immediately denies.

“Because you always have to have everything you want, including the things that aren’t yours.”

“‘Things’” He scoffs. “Funny how you’re so upset about someone you only see as a thing.”

My teeth grind so hard it makes my jaw clench, “You know she was never a thing to me until you fucked her.”

“Oh, give it a break Nicholas! Stop blaming me for her leaving.” His hands exaggerate his words then points straight at me. “You are the reason your relationship failed. You are the reason she left.”

My eyes narrow as I step closer to his soaked body. “I would really watch what you fucking say if I were you.”

“Or what?” He asks but I have no answer. “When are you going to stop punishing me for something I never fucking did?”

I watch his eyes: dark brown, heavy, bloodshot, and one lined with a dark bruise from the bar fight. His words sound genuine, but I know his eyes, I know them like the back of my hand.

I know when he’s lying, and he’s lying to me right now. I can’t prove it, I haven’t been able to, but I know he’s been lying to me for the past year.

“For the love of god Noah, can you just stop fucking lying?” I snap. "You don't even have enough respect for me to tell me the truth?"

“Wow.” He presses his lips together for a moment. “You must think so low of me to really believe that I would do something like that.”

“I don’t have to think low of you to believe the truth.” I hiss, stepping towards him. “But you’re going to keep denying it so it’s irrelevant what I believe did or didn’t happen. What I do know, is that you have a fucking problem, and you need help.”

He steps towards me with low brows and narrow beady eyes, “I didn’t fuck Alice and I don’t need a fucking alcohol anonymous meeting just because I still like to get drunk sometimes. I am a fucking adult, and I don’t need you to ‘save me’.” He scoffs and runs his tongue across his teeth. “You know? Maybe that’s what actually drove Alice away, you and your fucking high-and-mighty, savior complex bullshit.”

Every inch of skin on my body feels like its burning and my heart races so loud I can barely even think clearly. I tighten my fists so tight that my nails dig into my palms painfully. I know that if I do anything, it will make me look like the villain.

“I can’t fucking hit you because if I do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” I growl lowly. “Get sober or don’t, I don’t fucking care anymore – but we have a chance, a real chance at making it now and if you ruin this for us Noah, I will never fucking forgive you. Do you understand me? I will fucking destroy you if you fuck this up for us.”

His brows curve up and he looks at me like I’m insane for insinuating that he would. “I won’t.” He replies through gritted teeth.

I glance over the railing when I hear the house beginning to stir with Jolly and Folio starting to wake up, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I don’t need them getting involved.

“Just,” I lower my voice between us. “Make it to rehearsals, meetings, shows – the rest I don’t give a fuck. Just make it to work. Sober.”

“Fine.” He says quickly, "If that will keep you out of my fucking business and leave me the fuck alone."

"Fine."

"Fine." He repeats, because of course he has to have the last word, before storming off to his room and slamming the door behind him.

I mirror him, making it to my room and slamming the door.

Once alone, the feeling that courses through my body is nauseating, painful and overwhelming. It is a visceral ache, I feel it twisting in my chest first, in my ribs, then flows and pools in the pit of my stomach.

I thought I moved on from the Alice situation. I tried to force myself to believe him, I tried to forget and push it so far down that it wouldn’t hurt. Tried to rationalize, maybe he didn’t sleep with her. Maybe he didn’t betray me. Maybe it really is just me projecting the weaknesses of our relationship onto him. But no matter how hard I push it down, it always bubbles back up.

And in my gut, I know he did it. Everything adds up, the timelines, the behavior, all of it.

I was just never prepared for a girlfriend to cheat on me with my best friend. I was never prepared to have him sleep with my girlfriend. Not after everything we’ve been through.

I was never prepared to have my heart broken by the two people I trusted and loved more than anything in my life.

In retrospect, I guess, I should’ve expected it. For as long as I can remember Noah always had girls fawning all over him. He always had that lead singer charm even though he never planned on being a frontman. Girls were never an issue for him, he seemed to get anyone he ever wanted.

Is it really that far-fetched that the one I had wanted him too?

Is that all that this is going to be from now on? Any girl the rest of us want, would just want Noah first?

I never pictured that this would be our future.

I never pictured my best friend of over a decade fucking my girlfriend then lying about it to my face.

I never pictured having to drag said lying, alcoholic best friend out of bed trying to get him to an AA meeting just so he could be sober enough for rehearsals.

I never imagined that out of the four of us, it would be me having to hold it all together. I never signed up for that. I signed up to play an instrument, to sign CDs, sleep in busses and sit in interviews. I never signed up to play manager, I never signed up to secretly scrape Noah off bar floors, be his personal caretaker and tentative AA sponsor. Doing all of that just to have it thrown in my face, to stand next to him – every day in rehearsals, in photoshoots, on stage, across the fucking dining table – knowing what he did and pretending that I’m okay with it.

I never thought I’d feel stuck in this band, this thing Noah and I have worked on and dreamed about since we were 15. I’ve poured so much of my life into this fucking band.

I can’t just up and leave. I’d have nothing left. I’d be nothing without them and I can’t be the bomb to blow us up. Especially not now when everything is just starting to take off. All this work would’ve been for nothing.

It’s not just my livelihood and dream, but theirs as well. I can’t do that to them.

And as much as I want to, as much as I’ve tried, I can’t leave Noah. We both know I’m right whether he wants to admit it or not. Nobody else would do what I do, nobody knows what I do, and nobody knows how to take care of him the way I do. He’s stubborn and stupid and won’t let anyone else in the way he’s let me in.

I don’t know why I’m the only one who has gotten the curse of his trust, but I have it and I can’t hand it off or set it down – no matter how heavy or suffocating it is.

Next Chapter -> 11 - Peak Fashion

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo @thebadchic @the-hell-i-overcame @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @cncohshit @dominuslunae [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N: The love for this story has honestly been so overwhelming (in a good way obv) and I couldn't be more grateful. I really thought this would flop lol so, thank you so much for every like, reblog, ask, or comment. It means the world to me truly. Thank you.

i love hearing your thoughts so feel free to share! (i'm really bad at responding to comments/asks but i still love them 🥺)

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

I’ve been seeing Dead Boy Detectives around a lot lately but I don’t know much about it, so if you want to tell me about it I’m very interested! I’m also curious about the story Came up from that lake of fire. (And I always love to hear about your original work!) 💚

Dead Boy Detectives is a a delightful show about the ghosts of two British teenagers who run a detective agency where they help their fellow spirits tie up any unfinished business so they can move on. It shares a lot of DNA with your classic monster-of-the-week show (I'm one of the 5 people on Tumblr who has never watched a single minute of Supernatural, but I hear a bunch of people who were involved in SPN are also involved in DBD.)

What sets it apart for me personally is the characters. As is typical for Netflix, there are only 8 episodes, which often hurts characterization in these type of plot-heavy shows, but each character seems like a fully fleshed person with their own goals, fears, and rich inner lives. Even characters who would be nothing but comic relief or plot devices on other shows, like the man who is really a cursed walrus or the grumpy goth butcher (my beloved Jenny) are given depth.

Also, the main characters, Charles and Edwin, have an absolutely fantastic relationship. Whether you see them as platonic, romantic, or something in between, they're the most important person in each other's lives and it's really sweet and beautiful.

I highly recommend it (with the caveat that the first episode has lots of clunky dialogue and exposition, especially in the first half. I promise, it gets better.)

Anyway, it's eating my brain and now I can't stop writing fic about it, so here's a snippet of the next chapter of Came up from that lake of fire under the cut!

“You know, Esther is certain to have collected a large variety of magical items during her long life, including books,” Edwin says. “Something in that house is sure to be of assistance during our search for the Deathless.” A woman browsing through a rack of blouses turns to stare at him and Edwin remembers that this isn’t the type of thing a living person can say out loud while standing in the middle of a thrift store. “In that… in that television game we’re playing,” he adds quickly. “I know how you enjoy your television games, Crystal.” “They’re called video games.” Crystal shoves a stack of shirts into his hands. “Here. Someone must have just donated all their grandpa’s clothes. They’re perfect for you.” “You jest, but I’m not impressed by modern fashion.” Edwin studies the shirts with a critical eye. “I am.” Charles emerges from the dressing room, wearing a red t-shirt emblazoned with the name of a musician Edwin has never heard of and a pair of tight-fitting jeans. “What do you think, mate?” Edwin does not look down at the jeans. “Very modern.”

WIP Ask Game

[jujumin-translates]

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 15 - Ketchuped To Hell

Company Employee A: I’m so sorry to bother you.

Company Employee A: We’ve been able to handle English-speaking and Asian countries just fine, but this region is a little more difficult for us and there aren’t many people in the company who would be able to help…

Company Employee A: I’ve been considering outsourcing, but I haven’t gotten approval yet. Please, can you at least make sure there aren’t any parts that could be misunderstood in the machine translation?

Chikage: That I can do easily.

Chikage: …

*Typing*

Chikage: (So this is the final document.)

Chikage: --.

Chikage: (...Same last name and everything. I still hate myself for reacting to it out of reflex.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Tsumugi: It’s been quite a while since the voting period for the final selection started, and yet the notices of debut performances aren’t showing any signs of stopping.

Kazunari: And there are still just as many new troupe and troupe member recruitment notices too~.

Kumon: That reminds me, there was a kid in one of my classes that said they were thinking about starting to do theater.

Tsumugi: It seems like the more people are exposed to the opportunity, the more people become interested in it.

Tenma: And because of the SNS Votes, more and more theater companies are shifting their focus to streaming.

Omi: While working on a photoshoot the other day, I met someone who works in the film industry and they said they’ve suddenly been really busy lately.

Yuki: A lot of people’s impressions from overseas are starting to pop up online.

Tasuku: The new Fleur Award really is helping to bring life to the world of theater, just like they said at the first press conference.

Azuma: It’s especially amazing considering things have only just begun.

Sakyo: Yukio-san is the type of guy to be in the eye of the storm when it comes to theater.

Guy: With the increased attention on it, he and Kamikizaka must be very busy doing various interviews.

Sakyo: Well, I’m sure Reni-san’s handling it just fine.

Yuki: The number of reviews on the theater forums has gone through the roof, but a good chunk of them are pretty scathing.

Yuki: Even performances done by famous theater companies and playwrights are getting stuff like, “I couldn’t understand the dialogue because they talked too fast, but the costumes were cute, I guess.”

Yuki: And “It suddenly turned into a contemporary dance thing and I had no clue what it was supposed to mean, but overall it was interesting.”

Azami: Honest but harsh, I guess.

Sakyo: They probably didn’t understand the stylistic beauty of that troupe, so it’s likely just them being candid on their first time seeing them perform.

Tsuzuru: They’re interesting to read, but I fear the day they come after us.

Sakuya: I wonder what they’re gonna say about us…

Izumi: Let’s not overthink things and start catastrophizing. We’ll be fine as long as we be ourselves.

Itaru: Right. If we worry about it too much and disappoint our existing fans, we’ll become the harbingers of our own doom.

Yuki: Well, it’s probably best that we all limit ourselves when it comes to reading reviews.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Door opens*

Yuzo: Mornin’.

Tsuzuru: Good morning.

Sakuya: Good morning! We’ll do our best today!

Izumi: Sorry to do this when you’re busy preparing things for your own troupe, Yuzo-san.

Yuzo: It ain’t a problem.

Itaru: Have you figured your attack plan for the Fleur Award on your end, Yuzo-san?

Yuzo: We’re just gonna do what we always do. That said, we got our asses kicked durin’ the pre-votin’.

Izumi: MANKAI Company placed 70th.

Yuzo: We were 103rd.

Sakuya: Furinkazan was!?

Tsuzuru: Even though you’re so popular your tickets sell out every show and you have a pretty solid fan base…

Yuzo: That’s ‘cause most of our fans are older.

Yuzo: So most of ‘em didn’t even know the pre-votin’ existed or if they did know, they didn’t know how to do it.

Yuzo: It’s gonna be a tough battle, but we’ve gotta fight in it in our own way.

Yuzo: Well, this ain’t the end of things, so we’re gonna take it at our own pace and not try to rush it.

Yuzo: But that’s just Yukio-san throwin’ us curveballs in the same way he always does. The things that guy comes up with never fails to amaze me.

Izumi: Haha… that’s him, alright.

Yuzo: Well then, if you’re all ready, then let’s get things started.

Sakuya: Okay! We’ll do our best!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yuzo: …

Izumi: What do you think…?

Izumi: (I haven’t felt this kind of nervousness in a long while…)

Yuzo: Haaah… You’re as stiff as ever.

Yuzo: Given it’s a sequel to your debut performance, there ain’t any problems with the way you’re interpretin’ the roles, but overall, you’re fightin’ spirit just ain’t there.

Yuzo: Tsuzuru, you’re still havin’ your doubts about the script, and that’s why you’re not fully focused on the play, ain’t it?

Tsuzuru: …Yes.

Yuzo: And the rest of ya are too focused on wantin’ to put on a good performance to get the results ya need for the rankings.

Yuzo: ‘Course, puttin’ on a good performance does matter, but you guys should damn well know that by now.

Yuzo: Above all, you should think about what ya wanna convey and accomplish with this performance again.

Yuzo: Do ya wanna earn your spot in the rankings or do you wanna show off your growth…

Sakuya: --.

Yuzo: ‘Course, there’s nothin’ wrong with wantin’ recognition. But if that’s all you’re doin’ it for, then you’re just earnin’ points.

Yuzo: You’ll end up bein’ consumed by thoughts like, “If we do this, we’ll be more popular and get more points” or “If we do that, we can get some extra points”-- But what we’re doin’ is theater. It ain’t a competition.

Yuzo: What is a Spring Troupe play to you guys? What are you doin’ this for? Who’re you doin’ this for?

Yuzo: You’re doin’ a sequel of your debut play. What did that play mean to all of you back then?

Yuzo: If you’re gonna do a sequel to your debut performance, maybe it’s best ya go back to those origins and give ‘em a look over again.

Yuzo: …But do it with some caution, yeah?

Izumi: (I wonder if Yuzo-san is also pretty worried about the new Fleur Award.)

Izumi: (No, I’m sure companies other than Yuzo-san’s are worried too… We’re not alone in this.)

Izumi: (What place does our troupe have in the rapidly changing world of theater…)

Izumi: (Maybe we need to rethink the path we’re going to take.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Citron: It has been a long time since we have been ketchuped to hell like that~.

Masumi: Criticized to hell?

Itaru: His kindness stat has been upped since back then, though.

Chikage: Isn’t that because of how much he approves of us?

Masumi: But that just makes fixing the parts he doesn’t approve of that much harder.

Sakuya: There… really is no easy answer, huh? Our Spring Troupe’s acting… our origin…

Tsuzuru: Who would’ve thought it’d be so hard just to be ourselves?

Chikage: Because sometimes you’re not the one to understand yourself the best.

Izumi: We decided to do this sequel in order to go back to our roots and remember where we started…

Izumi: So, what do you all think was the best part about Spring Troupe back during the first RomiJuli?

Sakuya: To be entirely honest with myself, my acting skills were horrible. All I had back then was my desire to act.

Tsuzuru: But you’ve still got that desire even now.

Sakuya: Yeah! If anything, I love and cherish theater even more than I did back then.

Masumi: So I wonder what we’re “lacking” now.

Itaru: I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m way more absorbed into theater than I was back then, at least.

Chikage: Our bonds as Spring Troupe have deepened and we’ve all improved too.

Citron: I do not feel like we are lacking anything~…

Masumi: But I get what Yuzo was saying.

Tsuzuru: Same here… He was right about me not being able to shake my hesitation about the script, too.

Chikage: Differences from our debut performance, huh…? For better or worse, this is no longer our “first time” on stage.

Itaru: You mean like our freshness is gone, or something? Well, there is a certain something about an author’s debut work, I guess.

Sakuya: You can only have one “first time”, so it’s not something you can do again, huh…

Tsuzuru: So, does that mean that, in a way, we’ll never be able to surpass our debut performance…?

Itaru: Sad, but true.

Masumi: Something that can’t be surpassed despite our improvement, huh…

Itaru: The impact of a first time and a blissfully unaware, reckless drive do have a certain power to them.

Sakuya: Hmm…

Izumi: …

Izumi: (Everyone seems gloomy now.)

Izumi: Let’s let this problem sit for a bit and each think about it more individually. We’ll have another meeting about it some other day.

Tsuzuru: Gotcha.

Itaru: …Yeah.

*Phone buzzes*

Sakuya: Ah--.

Izumi: The meeting’s over, so you’re okay to go and take that.

Sakuya: Sorry, excuse me, then.

*Footsteps*

Sakuya: --Hello, Sakuma speaking. I appreciate your call.

Sakuya: Um, I’m so sorry. About that…

*Door closes*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Iv: maintenance’s been extended

shiki: I have more exams tomorrow, so I probably won’t be able to play much today.

Iv: our’s start on thurs

Kar: Good luck

Iv: don’t you got em too?

Kar: Started the day before yesterday

Iv: oh, so you’ve already started

shiki: Cool about it as ever.

momo has entered the chat.

Kar: Yo

shiki: You’re late today.

Iv: you got exams too, momo?

momo: Ran away from home

Kar: Way to change the mood lmao

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[kozachenko]

Finished reading Forbidden Scrollery! As I mentioned in my little post about it before, I would make a full review on it once I finished it, so here we are now!

(Also, sorry I haven't been posting as much art recently, life's gotten busy for me and I haven't really had the time to work on anything big, but I hope to get back into drawing soon)

And honestly? Best Touhou manga I have read so far. Full review under the keep reading tag. Also, spoilers if you want to read it.

The writing first of all, was really good, the pacing is perfect (only helped by the actual paneling and layouts being top notch), the character writing was my favourite part of the manga, and the actual story was actually pretty smart.

So something I love about this manga is that it all revolves around a core idea, that being the relationship between Humans and Youkai. While each chapter is episodic in nature, it still feels like those little episodes actually have a purpose, it isn't just filler. There's not one major problem they have to resolve like in CDS, but at the same time the events aren't disjointed from one another like in Lotus Eaters. The way that we see Kosuzu slowly get more and more involved with the Youkai of the human village is really interesting. I also really like how we learn more about the human village and how it operates, as well as learning more about how the Youkai play a part in it. In each chapter we see a different way that this core theme is expressed, like in chapters 20 and 21 where we see how outsiders like the residents of Eientei contribute to the human village, and in chapters 30 and 31 where we see how humans help Youkai out via their fear of the unknown. And of course, you have the infamous chapter 25, where the most memorable moment from there also happens to be the most flanderized (I'll get to that in my paragraph about Reimu, because her character writing in this manga is the best that I've seen in the Touhou mangas so far). The best chapters that demonstrate this theme are probably all in volumes 6 and 7, where things start to get more intense.

Now onto the writing, and boy while this may be whiplash from reading CDS, the writing in this manga was amazing. Each character has their own unique voice, which ends up making the events in chapter 38 even funnier. Since Mamizou has a very distinct way of speaking, it makes it even funnier watching her be disguised as Reimu and accidentally slipping into her own way of talking.

Of course, this scene is visually aided by Moe Harukawa giving "Reimu" the little cat mouth she gives Mamizou, and also the very obvious signifier of the leaf, but establishing Mamizou's way of speaking early on in the manga helps emphasize the comedy of this scene (that being, a sassy old woman trying to impersonate someone in their early 20s with a very different personality to them).

What's even funnier about this scene is that as soon as Mamizou gets what she wants, she just gives up on trying to speak like Reimu and dips (which is the punchline to the setup of Mamizou almost calling Kosuszu "Little Missy" and then correcting herself)

Also, credit to the English translators for finding words and phrases like, "The real Mccoy" and "Reckon," with how different the Japanese and English languages are (and how tricky it can be to translate between the two) they ended up hitting the nail on the head with the localization and translation.

The actual narrative itself is really well paced, with all the events actually feeling like they happen consecutively to one another, only helped by the little bits in the dialogue where the characters mention previous events in the story. For a manga in a series where upholding status quo is the norm, a lot of changes happen in this manga, like Akyuu starting to write novels under a penname, Kosuzu starting to attract the attention of more and more important people in Gensokyo, and Kosuzu eventually being added into Reimu's friend group. The manga also does an excellent job of tying the events of the games at the time into the story, like we're seeing the behind the scenes or aftermath of a particular incident, especially so with the Urban Legend Incident, where we see Reimu and Marisa get more and more concerned about rumors like "The Story of the Bull Head" and the end of the world speading too far before they can do actual damage. I also like the tone that this manga has, it's inviting at first with how cute and lighthearted it is, but it slowly gets more and more serious we begin to see the truth of the human village, and by proxy, Gensokyo as a whole. Also, the set up and payoff with the parade scroll was really well excecuted, with it acting as like a ticking time bomb in the background as the series goes on. I also really like how each chapter feels different from each other in terms of plot beats, it's not really formulaic like Lotus Eaters was, which helps make the manga a lot more exciting to read, despite it not having a grandiose overarching plot.

Now onto the character writing. As you can probably see, I am turning into a bit of a Mamizou fan. She's one of the most well written characters in the manga and perfectly strikes the balance of being hilarious, yet intimidating at the same time. She's a pretty smart character despite her goofiness, and she's always such a joy to watch (or.. well... read, but that doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely (well actually fingers since I'm typing this, but again, doesn't roll off the fingers as nicely (yipeeee I used a phrase correctly). Also, I really like seeing her relationship with Nue as that of a grandma and her grandaughter who's a chaotic scene kid, but despite these differences they get along perfectly. Aya is also one of my favourite characters to read about in the manga, and I was so excited to see her again. She's always such a delight to see, and also captures that sense of goofiness + coolness. In a way, it's kinda the embodiment of Youkai in Touhou itself. Fun and charming yet supernatural and menacing at the same time. In your usual manga/anime series, it's more likely that characters will lean one way or the other (and anytime they step out of their ascribed personality, it's for a gag and is considered an oddity, wheras with Touhou it's commonplace), so it's a really unique writing thing in Touhou that I don't really see other things, which is really cool. Marisa is also written really well in this, she's really funny and plays off of Reimu really well. Kosuzu herself is also fun to read about, as her childlike view of Gensokyo slowly begins to crack as more and more influential youkai begin to interact with her. I also like how the manga doesn't tell you in the beginning that she's a young, naive kid, instead, it shows you little details like her having a curfew, her parents calling her for dinner, her general outlook on life in general. All of that is contrasted with Akyuu, who, while bit pretentious, was also very fun to read. She plays off of Akyuu's naivete well with her wisdom from her past lives and her knowledge on Gensokyo. She acts like how you would expect a teenager with memories of their past lives to act, with maybe a slight dash of maturity in there.

And now for Reimu, who I think is at her best in this manga. There were times when I legit went, "HOLY SHIT REIMU'S SO FUCKING COOL OH MY GOD-" instead of just going, "Ha ha, Reimu's such a dork." Like, she actually knows her shit in this manga, and it explores the "shrine maiden" side of her character in far more detail than we have ever really seen it before (except in arguably Silent Sinner in Blue, which I still need to re-read, yes I will also be making a full review for that as well once I do get around to it). I use this panel from chapter 27 as my example because she genuinely looks so cool here.

Reimu very frequently uses her skills as a shrine maiden to get to find the answers she needs, and she's not afraid to get her job done. As seen in the now iconic panel of Chapter 25...

This is probably what the manga is most well known for, and when I mentioned how this moment is flanderized, I'm more so talking about how people tend to look at this moment in isolation, and to be honest, Reimu isn't helping herself by saying this a moment before she does this guy in.

Which is then sort of contradicted when Reimu says this after she does the guy in.

So if she has a legit reason for why she did this, why the heck did she call it needless then? I feel like the best way of answering this would be that yes, she didn't need to do it, but from her perspective she had to. It's her job to do so, as she says so herself. Another thing to mention that contradicts the initial reading of that earlier line is just how seriously she takes this whole ordeal. During the pages leading up to this moment, we see Reimu as being uncharacteristically serious about this,

And when she finally arrives at Suzunaan, we get this really good reaction shot of her eyes, and it really says a lot about her mental state at the moment,

and she also gets very serious during her initial confrontation with this fortune teller guy.

Another thing that contradicts the "needless killing" part is how she handeled that one rich guy becoming a Youkai in chapter 37

Reimu is just ruthless when she needs to get her job done in general. Sure, she didn't need to kill the rich guy, she could have just let him go and not do anything about it, but she it's not about what she needs, it's what Gensokyo needs.

In the same chapter where she kills the fortune teller, we get this bit of narration.

Honestly, I feel like this is a kind of "Reimu knows more about Gensokyo than she lets on" kind of situation, because we never really learn exactly how having a human become a Youkai would screw up Gensokyo, but I have heard theories where if a human-who-became-a-youkai were to still try to be human, then it would be cause for concern because then it's like putting a radioactive rock in the middle of a small elevator with a lot of people (ok I know that doesn't make any sense whatsoever but I can't think of another way to put it). .

Putting that can of worms aside, I really like this manga's version of Reimu. Sure she has her dorky moments, but that's not the entirety of who she is, and I really like that. I really like it when characters have vastly contradicting sides to their personality, it makes them more interesting and also more fun to think about. There is so much more that I can say about Reimu in this manga, but I'll just end off this segment by saying that Reimu is now one of my favourite Touhou characters now and she is in my top 5 list of favourite Touhou characters.

Ok now it's time to finally talk about the artstyle and OH MY GOD THE ART FOR THIS MANGA IS GORGEOUS I WANNA EAT IT SHKGAGSLHSKGSAKJDGHKSLDJGHLAHDGLJH;SLGHKDJAH;GKGHDJK;HFGKADHG;J-

Seriously though, I really want to do a style study for this manga because I love it so much. It's expressive, the cross-hatching gives it this really nice and tactile feeling, and the designs the artist came up with for each character are really good. My only critique would be to maybe give Mamizou more wrinkles, or something more to communicate her age, (and I still like the way Mamizou is drawn in this manga). In my previous post on FS I brought up how good the layouts are, and that still holds up to when I finished this manga. Good manga paneling takes advantage of the fact that it's a manga, and uses that medium to it's fullest. I won't go into any more detail here as I have already talked about how good it's paneling is in a previous post, so go read that if you're interested. I feel like we all know what makes Moe Harukawa's art so good, so I'll just leave this segment at that.

Now, I would normally end this segment here, but really, there's one surprise I haven't talked about

One character who steals the show in this manga

A character so good, I had to write an entirely new segment on him

That's right, it's a dude, and it isn't Rinnosuke.

I'M TALKING ABOUT THE MAN,

THE MYTH,

AND MOST OF ALL, THE LEGEND.

ANXIOUS

MUSTACHED

VILLAGER!

THIS MAN, RIGHT HERE, THE GOAT OF ALL MANGA AND ANIME! BEST CHARACTER IN ALL OF EXISTENCE! ABSOLUTELY INSPIRING STORY THAT DROVE ME TO TEARS! BEST CHARACTER ARC IN THE ENTIRE MANGA! GET THIS MAN TO NUMBER ONE IN THE 2024 TOUHOU POPULARITY POLL LIKE HE DESERVES!

Ok in all seriousness, this manga is amazing, (I mean, it has anxious mustached villager in it) I see why people regard it so highly in relation to the other Touhou mangas. It was a blast to read, and it's my favourite Touhou manga now, and is also one of my new favourite mangas in general.

Ok I'm gonna end the post here now, bye byeeeeeee.

[shatcey]

The villains wanna tease little robin (Jude/Ellis)

Jude/Ellis (bitter) Elbie/Alfie (bitter) Vic/Will (bitter)

All the boys are showing interest in Kate at this event. And their personality has played a huge role in how they express it. This is one of the events that allows you to get to know them better at the very beginning of the story. Sweet, funny and cute. No romance, just a hint of it. Unfortunately, this is not an event that you can save by reading both normal and premium ending. Sadly.

I found the first two chapters, the premium ending and the epilogue:

So I recommend reading this beforehand.

Kate cannot sleep. Yes, she remembers that only the staff can open the door, but it still doesn't give a sense of security. She decided to prepare for the second day of the "pretend to be the Queen" job. But when she opens the book, there is a strange sound outside her room.

And she notices some "maybe-not-so-dead-body" lying at the feet of Ellis and Jude.

It's okay, she couldn't fell asleep anyway…

So, all of them (including unconscious "body") entered Queen-Kate's room. The boys explain that this "body" is the secretary of the minister in question, who actually tried to break into her room with obviously bad intentions.

Kate immediately thought of a very suspicious minister with glasses… and received another compliment from Jude…

Oh, hon, you spoil me…

They explain that Ellis felt a sweet smell coming from the crown. And they realized that the culprit was the one who touched the crown last. But they needed proof, so they waited for his move.

Kate thinks they work very well together. And it doesn't look like a purely business relationship. So she asks:

You look like an old married couple who know each other so well that they can be in perfect sync and understand each other even without words… We've seen that… How long have they been together? Eight years? Something like that… That's a lot!

So they start to express their "wishes" to her…

Oh, how scary…

She tried to reason with them… and that made Jude remind her that if she suddenly backed out, it would be a breach of contract.

Oh, stop it, you're making me blush!

So they took the "body" and left her to sleep. They still have a lot of work to do. Of course, she couldn't sleep at all.

The next morning, the boys bring the culprits to Victor.

Ellis noted that Jude was more harsh with interrogations than usual

But Ellis himself admits that he was a little meaner than usual because he scared Kate. But he didn't cross the line of murder/death. I can't say exactly what he meant.

Of course, he didn't answer that question. Oh Jude, you really love this kid)))

So they found Kate, who decided to ask them what happened last night

Yeah… they don't want to worried her for no reason.

So… In this ending, wish fulfillment was not shown at all. But I really enjoyed the interaction between Jude and Ellis. It's always fun and breathes life… It gives a very vivid picture of who they are, and I can almost hear their voices in these dialogues.

This is the second time this event has been on the JP server. So when it came on EN I will have more than enough opportunities to fill in the gaps that I undoubtedly still have.

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🔝 Start page 🔝

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[presidenthades]

Once again, I am doing a series of my behind-the-scenes thoughts for The Golds while I do light edits for formatting, typos, and continuity. Here’s Chapter 6!

For this chapter’s title, I chose to reference the Stranger because of the fear for Jace’s life throughout the chapter. But there are no lyrics for the Stranger in “The Song of the Seven” because, as Sam Tarly says in ASOIAF, “no one sings of the Stranger.” Hence the placeholder: (The Stranger has no songs). And, at the end of the chapter, Jace tells Aegon that she wants no more songs.

Like Chapter 3, this chapter has no scene breaks since it is essentially one long scene during one day. In Chapter 3, there’s a mystery while Jace is trying to figure out what Aegon has been up to, then in Chapter 4 we find out the truth. Here it’s reversed: we already know from Chapter 5 what happened to Jace, but now we’re following Aegon as he tries to figure out where she is.

The chapter starts with Aegon having a normal morning. We see he’s developed the habit of helping his wife dress, and his knowledge of her gown, shoes, and hairpin is useful in his investigation later.

The irony of Aegon and Jace’s last dialogue before they separate! Turns out it’s not Aegon we have to worry about missing the lunch meeting 😢.

Aegon is of the opinion there’s nothing wrong with a little brawl between boys (he and Aemond still brawl on occasion). TBH he probably would’ve kept moving if he didn’t know any of the boys, but because he knows Ronnel, he intervenes. Also, since Aegon pays Gyles, Gyles and Ronnel are part of Aegon’s household (although Gyles makes pies for pretty much everyone who asks), so there’s some of that feudal responsibility where a lord takes care of his people.

Ronnel is basically the new kid at school, and the other servant boys don’t like him because they perceive favoritism from Aegon (which there is). I’m sure the castle staff have some kind of hierarchy that factors in things like tenure, and suddenly Ronnel and his dad show up going “milord Aegon” in what the others deem an overly familiar way. Gyles’s pies are very in demand among other highborns at the castle, which means Gyles’s standing quickly rises (and Ronnel by proxy), so the boys are envious of Ronnel’s good fortune. And most of the servants are from the Crownlands, so the boys are quick to pick on Ronnel’s Vale background.

Gyles is around 30 (Aegon is 18) and from a very different background, so it would be difficult for them to be true friends in a society that places so much emphasis on class and wealth. But they’re at least friendly because they’ve known each other for so long, and Aegon has been thinking a lot more about fatherhood. Gyles is one of the few men he personally knows who seems to have a healthy relationship with his son, so I feel like Aegon has asked Gyles a few questions about fatherhood prior to this chat in Chapter 6. The convo about Gyles’s wife foreshadows some of the issues Jace wrestles with in the coming chapters (although she has a much happier resolution), and it’s definitely on Aegon’s mind while he helps her through the aftermath.

Aegon’s little detective business just kind of happened. Probably started with one of the former captives at the warehouse asking for help related to the Tyroshi, and it snowballed from there as word spread around the city that “hey, if you have a problem, Prince Aegon might help you out.” Of course Aegon would prefer not to get the boring problems (I keep imagining BBC’s Sherlock only taking interesting cases), but he puts up with them because the smallfolk are very enthusiastic with their gratitude—and Jace likes it when he helps people, which is probably the bigger incentive.

The innkeeper disapproving of his daughter’s elopement is supposed to parallel Daemon disapproving of Jace’s elopement, so Aegon is inclined to sympathize with the young couple instead of the father (again, the theme of smallfolk and highborns being essentially the same, just with more or less money). AND the daughter is pregnant, so Aegon is envisioning what he and Jace would want in that scenario. Also, Aegon specifically buys a goat as a wedding present because it’s just about one of the most useful things a peasant could have. The goat is relatively inexpensive to maintain and feed, and it provides milk and some wool. And it can be marked with ownership, so it’s harder for a jealous neighbor to steal than a sack of coins. (This is my amateur understanding of goats, I know very little about goat husbandry.)

I’m probably going to write a chapter from Liane’s POV in my smallfolk anthology. She’s a very smart girl who was born into poverty, can’t read (hence the X she signs on the contract) but has a good head for business. For a poor prostitute in this society, the most common career paths are either a) keep being a prostitute forever, b) repent and join the Faith as a septa, or c) become a brothel owner. Liane has been working on option C for a while, and she sees the opportunity to buy the building she works in when Aegon shows no interest in the Garden. He also doesn’t take a cut of their earnings, so she’s able to save up faster the next few months. I like to think that because she’s worked side by side with the other girls so long, she’ll be a good manager to them rather than let the authority go to her head. And the influx of money that Aegon sends them after they help Jace significantly improves living conditions, to the point that Liane might even be able to change it from a brothel to a different establishment.

But the most important point of the scene: Aegon sows good karma by selling the Garden to Liane for dirt cheap (1 groat = 4 pennies), and it pays dividends that very day when Jace needs help.

Rhaenyra mentions in the Handbook that Luce had quite a few childhood fears, including storms, which she still secretly has. I gave this fear to Luce because I was thinking about the canonical Storm’s End chase scene and how that would be even more harrowing with a fear of storms. Now I also realize there’s some symbolism because Cassandra Baratheon is one of the Four Storms ⛈️.

In Chapter 4, Aegon is quick to distract himself when he starts thinking about the baby and being a father. Here, he purposefully lingers on thoughts about fatherhood as he observes Daemon interacting with Alyssa; Aegon is making progress coming to terms with being a father.

Sorry not sorry but I love the imagery of short Lucera wearing Aemond’s big coat 🥰. She’s soaked after flying on Arrax in the rain, and he probably makes some snarky comments about how unkempt she looks while he wraps the coat around her. (Meanwhile Rhaenys is off to the side like “OK ignore me, I’m just an old lady, thanks.”)

There is some irony that Aegon sneaks out alone to the city all the time and deliberately gets in trouble but is always fine, while the one time Jace leaves the castle during her pregnancy, the worst happens.

Aemond thinks Aegon is being panicked and reckless (which he is), but Aemond follows him anyway because a) that’s his brother even if he’s kind of a dumbass sometimes and b) Aemond knows he’s the only person who can keep up with Aegon right now 🥲.

Bethany is in a heckload of pain right now, and it would be her right to demand a maester’s attention before her own wounds worsen/get infected, but she cares about Floris so she makes sure Floris isn’t alone at the end 😢.

Aegon’s threat to feed the madam’s brother to Sunfyre and make her watch is indeed a reference to a certain canon event… 👀

Aegon has definitely done his homework on the Tyroshi since he spent a while trying to catch him. I might flesh out the guy’s backstory in a future fic, but I imagine him to be from one of Tyrosh’s ruling families (the archon is chosen from a conclave of the richest families in Tyrosh). I had to make up a name based on the naming patterns of other Tyroshi characters GRRM created.

Throughout this chapter, Aemond serves as the voice of reason and is able to quickly refute many of Aegon’s arguments because he knows how Aegon thinks. Admittedly, Aemond would act a lot like Aegon right now if Luce were the one in trouble—but then Aegon would be the one knocking sense into Aemond into that scenario. The brothers are more similar than they like to admit.

Bethany is very angry at Elinor, understandably so. Bethany did her duty and came to Jace’s defense, and she almost died for it—plus she’s aware that her face is never going to look the same again. Meanwhile Elinor abandoned their mistress and did absolutely nothing to help anybody, and she’s perfectly fine (for now). I don’t think Elinor was thinking at all about her crush on Aegon at the time, but Bethany really wants to make her words hurt and ensure that Elinor doesn’t come away completely unscathed. Definitely not friends anymore.

As I’ve said before, book!Aegon has excellent zingers, and TGC says Aegon has an eye for people’s weak spots. Here, Aegon deliberately says one of the most hurtful things he could possibly say to a girl who likes him: “you’re worse than a dog.” 💀 (I can’t blame him though.)

Despite the circumstances, Westerosi values are pretty engrained into Aegon, so he feels like he can’t lay hands on a highborn girl like Elinor, whereas he wouldn’t hesitate to beat a man into a pulp. So he hands (pun not intended) Elinor to Rhaenyra, because the optics of a mother/another woman punishing Elinor are much less bad, and he’s confident Rhaenyra will make it hurt. (And he forces Elinor to personally tell Rhaenyra what she did. Oof!)

Book!Aegon is capable of immense cruelty, especially after he’s been wronged (I’m hoping we see that in S2). I wanted to channel that here when he punishes Edwyn Pyle. First he unofficially puts Edwyn on trial, with Aegon as judge and jury, and makes Edwyn sweat as he confesses everything he did wrong. Of course Aegon deems him guilty, and part of him would like to kill Edwyn personally. But Aegon also thinks the other guards need to be punished for blindly obeying orders (we can argue whether this is fair to the guards, but Aegon doesn’t care about being fair right now), so he includes them in Edwyn’s punishment. I was inspired by the Roman practice of decimation, where if an entire group of soldiers (usually groups of 10) needs to be punished, one of them is randomly selected and the others beat him to death. Aegon makes the other guards take turns beating Edwyn so they never forget their failure (and if they mess up again, next time it might be them being beaten to death), and it adds extra burn to Edwyn’s death because he’s being beaten by the very men he was ordering around. (And yes, Edwyn does end up dying after 12 hours of this.)

Although I just said Aegon is capable of immense cruelty, he is arguably “nicer” than Aemond 😅. In F&B, Aegon shows mercy to Gaemon Palehair and agrees to knight Trystane Truefyre before execution, neither of which he needed to do. Compare to Aemond, who slaughters all of House Strong including the toddlers and burns tf out of the Riverlands 😐. Neither of them is really nice though, let’s be real.

A younger Daemon would’ve been out searching on the streets too, but he is sadly no longer a young man. Instead he’s been playing spymaster at the Red Keep, and it pays off. The old man who has info about the hay wagon goes to a brothel in Mysaria’s network, and she sends word to Daemon. The show has made Mysaria a populist, so I think she approves of Jace’s attempts to help the people of KL. And I’m sure Mysaria has heard about Aegon’s detective services, so overall she’s inclined to help find Jace.

A wagon, two mules, and pile of good hay are worth way more than a little rowboat, hence the old man’s eagerness to trade and disinclination to ask too many questions.

Kites have been used in warfare for many centuries. When you have dragonriders, you need to be able to signal them somehow, and I feel like kites would be a pretty good solution for that. Now that there are so many adult dragonriders in KL, someone (probably Corlys or Daemon) suggested incorporating the kite system for emergencies such as this. The gold cloaks were notably incompetent during Chapter 4, but I think the Targs have whipped them back into shape during the last few months.

Luce is honestly not in much danger at all on dragonback, with only one “enemy” on the ground. But Aemond worries anyway 😛. (Aegon’s been in a state all day, some of it probably wore off on Aemond.)

When Aegon asks “where is she,” the Tyroshi realizes they haven’t found Jace. He knows there’s no way he’s escaping now, so he decides to drag out Aegon’s torment as much as he can before he’s inevitably executed.

Aemond reacts very strongly to Aegon digging into the Tyroshi’s mutilated eye because…uh…well, the eye thing 👁️👄⚫️. Aemond has zero sympathy for the guy but he’s probably getting some secondhand pain watching it happen.

I actually do think Jace saw Arrax while Luce was flying out, but she had no way of signaling Arrax, and it was too dark/high for Luce to spot Jace in the trees 🙁. Jace probably thought about trying to follow Arrax, but she had no idea when/where Arrax would land (and a dragon is much faster than her on foot), so she continued onward to the city.

Contrary to common belief, House Hightower’s sigil colors do NOT include green! It’s a white tower with orange flames on a gray field. That’s why Alicent’s necklace is white gold and amber. I imagine it as a necklace from when she was a girl (long before her green era), and she gave it to Jace shortly after the elopement.

The guards who refused to listen to Liane are probably due for some very arduous training drills once the Targs have the bandwidth to pay attention to them 😬.

The Liane chapter I mentioned above will probably cover in more detail what happens when Jace shows up at the Garden. I imagine that once the girls realize Jace is in fact the missing princess, they kick out all their customers so they can focus on her.

Jace has a big problem with people touching her in the next chapter, but right now she’s still in shock, so she lets one of the girls comb her hair. The Garden girls have never interacted with anyone as high society as Jace before, but they’re offering the best hospitality they can: dragging out a clean mattress and blankets, building the fire as hot as they can (firewood ain’t free), giving her clothes (they don’t have much that’ll fit a heavily pregnant woman but they try), scrubbing Jace’s muddy shift.

Jace being soundly refused help from the other shopkeepers shocks and hurts her a lot. She’s spent her entire life being recognized instantly because she’s a princess. But the smallfolk have only ever seen her from a distance, if at all, and she would’ve been dressed in royal finery, like during her wedding day. Now she’s only wearing her shift and one shoe, and her hair (which is black instead of a distinctive Valyrian silver) is a mess. Usually the only people who walk around in public in their smallclothes are whores, so the shopkeepers take one look at her and assume she’s a whore. Meanwhile the girls at the Garden are at the bottom of society, so they know what it’s like to need help but be scorned by everyone else. They don’t believe Jace’s identity at first, but she’s a pregnant woman in desperate need of help, so they let her inside because they’ve been in similar straits before.

This is a turning point in Aegon’s journey to fatherhood. His concern most of the day was about Jace, but when he feels Cheeseball move for the first time, it suddenly strikes him that the baby is not just an extension of Jace, as he’s been thinking so far. This is the moment when Aegon realizes he loves the baby because it’s his child, not just because it’s part of Jace.

Luce has been away for six months, but she grew up with Jace. She immediately clocks that Jace isn’t going to be entirely OK. Aegon also knows this deep down, but he’s desperately hoping for the best so he’s acting like it’s only a physical thing.

Rhaenyra picked a very poetic punishment for Elinor. Elinor loses her dominant hand, which she used to push Jace, but it’s also the hand that made her excel as a LIW because many of Elinor’s talents, like hairstyling, lay in the dexterous use of her hands. But even if Elinor were ever welcome at court again, she wouldn’t be able to reclaim a similar position. The loss of her hand also takes down her marriageability a lot, if the dishonor weren’t enough. I also imagine Aunt Elinda had a lot to say to Elinor 😬.

Alicent doesn’t know how to comfort Aegon (and he probably doesn’t want it right now), so she defaults into “hostess” mode (the queen is basically hostess of the entire castle/court) by making sure he and Jace have their physical needs taken care of.

Jace spent many hours alone in the woods, so she had a lot of time to think about what happened that day. She’s already begun internalizing her guilt about her ladies’ deaths, and how her pregnancy led to them being in the Sept. She feels like she shouldn’t celebrate the baby when her ladies/friends have died because of it. And the Tyroshi talked about how people sing about Jace and Aegon, hence Jace’s temporary aversion to songs. So Aegon’s first attempt at helping her back to “normalcy” fails—but as we see in future chapters, he figures out another way.

Chapter 7 commentary here

[omorimodreverie]

September & October Development Update

Writer: ReynStahl

Overview

A fair few milestones were achieved during the past few months. The pixel art and map sectors are starting to near its completion, at which point the bottleneck now shifts towards the writing sector instead (such as NPCs and Flavor text), and the RPGMaker sector. Some small tasks regarding art still remain, such as portraits, but the fact that much higher priority tasks take precedence as well as the low number of art related tasks itself puts it on the back burner for now. 

Going into a more personal aspect, I have not contributed much to the team due to being busy with the real life aspect, though hopefully November should be different. However, our awesome team members were still able to make a good amount of progress, especially with maps (which are really good).

Progress

Music organization and implementation

Even though most songs needed for chapter 3 have already been finished prior, it’s only just been implemented properly. There are also some extra music tasks that have come up along the way as well, but overall this sector is pretty close to completion.

Maps

Majority of maps are now functional within the RPGMV engine to continue making events and other things. Most are just about at the polish stage.

Flavor Texts

Only a map or two have their flavor texts fleshed out. However, it should be noted that most of our writing is dedicated towards NPC dialogue at the moment. The current flavor texts are more done on passing when testing maps.

NPCs

RPGMaker wise, 2 maps are completely done now in terms of NPCs. NPC dialogue for other maps are also in progress.

Writing wise, there is still quite a lot to go through.

Overhaul sheet organizer

This is a more developmental aspect, where all the tasks are now concentrated into a central sheet so it’s easier to manage and communicate, and so tasks don’t become lost as well.

Organization of files and compiling older assets

As mentioned above, organization is needed as some older works are being left forgotten for a while. For example, an asset might be finished early but require other tasks to be completed as well before implementation.

What’s Next?

As mentioned before, the bottleneck now starts to shift into the writing and RPGMaker aspects. 

Writing NPCs or flavor text might seem like a small minor aspect, but surprisingly, it can be quite a large task, especially for newer areas where it has to be made from the ground up. There is also an aspect of organization involved here, as we’re dealing with quite a large amount of text in different areas or NPCs, and have to keep track of what belongs where. It can be quite tedious as the process might feel disjointed and also due to the sheer quantity of text required, relative to main cutscenes.

As for RPGMaker, the main two tasks would be the actual implementation of events, such as populating the maps with flavor or NPCs, and organization of said events so the individual elements actually connect together (which is another whole type of task in itself).

Here’s a flowchart of the current progress below:

Any Teasers?

Anyways, thanks for reading this far and being patient! Here’s a teaser for the apartment map and its area theme!