#plus i think half of it was just that it was very jarring to go from rise to the 2012 show

[toxicanonymity]

This protector. Left in Lincoln, pt. 1

3k | dark dads' best friend!Joel x virgin f!Reader

story master list / joel miller master list

Premise: Bill and Frank raised you after you were orphaned by the outbreak. They left Lincoln to get treatment for Frank and asked a neighbor, Joel, to look in on you (early 20s) while they were gone.

He rubbed your arms harmlessly, then his hands grazed your breasts lightly enough to pass for accidental as he hugged you. His breath deepened and his jeans twitched. He slipped his arms under yours and you tried to settle in, still nervous. You sat for what felt like a long time. Eventually, you relaxed into him.

Warnings/Notes: NSFW 18+ (not graphic yet), creepy!joel, dark!Joel, pervy!Joel, big legal age gap, very inexperienced/naive reader, angsty premise, dry humping, touching over clothes, pressure, blue balls, alcohol, pining. Slow-burn horror. Post-outbreak but playing fast and loose with a couple of ages.

When Frank got sick, he and Bill went in search of treatment and left you safe at home in Lincoln. They knew you could manage on your own, but they still asked a trusted neighbor, Joel Miller, to look in on you. You knew Joel from when he came over for meals, but he didn't talk much, so you didn't feel like you knew him very well. You felt like he knew you, though. He knew a secret.

- - -

The secret was that one time, you went on Joel's property and helped yourself to his fruit. It wasn't your first time there, but it was your first time picking any fruit. You snuck in from the back and stayed deep in the orchard. You didn't think he'd see you.

Joel would've been more than happy to pick some fruit for you, or even with you, but you were shy. He was intimidating. Plus, you wanted to take your time to enjoy the orchard. He had the most beautiful peach and apple trees. You were still getting over Jesse and being there reminded you of him. Jesse kissed you there, way in the back, after dark when no one would know. This was your first time there in broad daylight.

You admired the peach in your hand, lightly brushing your thumb over its curves, captivated by the gradient of yellow to pink, then plum.

"You picked a nice, ripe one." Your face went cold as you looked at the peach in your hand. You turned around to see Joel Miller half smiling at you, then he slowly stepped forward and put his hands on his hips with his knee out. "Should be juicy," he added. He didn't seem mad at all, but it made your heart race. It was your first time stealing and you got caught.

"Mr. Miller, I–"

"Call me Joel," he said. "Come on in, let's make some apple juice."

"I really shouldn't. . ."

“C'mon, I just cored a bunch of apples."

He was reassuring, but you were too embarrassed and said you should get home. He told you to come back any time, but you never did.

-

The next time Joel came for dinner, you answered the door and he handed you a jar of apple juice. He normally just brought hard cider. Knowing you didn't drink, he brought a jar of juice that night to commemorate your trespassing.

"Wow, thanks," you said.

"’welcome, peaches," Joel whispered in your ear, and his thumb brushed your opposite cheek as it burned.

You prayed he'd never say it in front of anyone else, but that brief teasing was the most personality you ever saw from him. He almost always wore a scowl - he and Bill had that in common.

That was also the night you realized Frank was truly unwell. He tried not to show it, but he kept steadying himself, and it wasn’t because he was drunk. He only drank one cider and Bill teased him for not having any wine. Later, you overheard your dads weighing the options. They mused that Joel could check in on you if they left. You were embarrassed at the thought - you could still feel Joel's touch on your cheek.

When Frank's health got worse in the following weeks, they decided to go.

- - -

Your first night alone in the house after your dads left, it took you hours to get to sleep, then you barely slept. There was an eerie silence, eventually broken by a creaking sound. You brushed that off as the house settling, but soon you heard rustling, then a thump. You couldn’t recall what the night normally sounded like. Each one of those noises made your heart jump. Unable to sleep, your mind drifted to Frank. You worried and cried.

The second night was even worse. You got to sleep but awoke to a repetitive scratching noise that sounded like it was right outside. You knew it was probably an animal, but you were too afraid to look. The wind howled, and you could have sworn you heard voices.

-

Once Joel came by, you were relieved to see him. Too relieved to be embarrassed. He was somber when you answered the door, though.

"Sorry 'bout your dad…"

It brought everything back to the surface. You nodded, unable to speak with such a knot in your throat. Your head throbbed and your eyes welled up. He jammed his hands in his pockets and hung his head. You could no longer hold back the tears.

Joel's Adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow. "Shit, I'm sorry, I shouldnt’a mentioned it." He hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and awkwardly opened his arms for you. The hug was rigid and obligatory until you collapsed into his arms like you really needed him. Then it changed. His body relaxed. His thick arms wrapped softly but strongly around you and he rubbed your back. His broad chest swelled against yours with a deep breath as he inhaled you. His flannel smelled like pine, cotton, and sweat.

You stood there resting in his arms for a good minute or so before sniffling, "sorry," and pulling back to dab your swollen eyes and look at him. His eyes were different. Less aloof. His scowl had softened. You wondered how long it had been since someone hugged him. You asked, "do you wanna come in?"

Joel sat you down on the oversized sofa and got you a glass of water. Then, he comforted you as you tried to get a hold of yourself. It was refreshing having someone there. You hugged him from the side, and his armpit was warm and a little damp against your shoulder. Then you started thinking about Frank again and folded forward with your face in your hands.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, rubbing your back. Then he put his feet on the ottoman and gently pulled you back against the couch with his arm around you. You cuddled up to him again like a big, surly teddy bear. He rubbed your arm, then began to brush the inside of your elbow with his thumb. It was a comforting gesture. Entrancing, too. A little sensual. It certainly relaxed you. Somehow, you fell asleep with your head on his thighs.

-

You woke up when his lap shifted under you. He was stroking your head, and you could feel he was hard. You pretended not to notice, but when you sat up, he didn't shy away from adjusting himself like it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was.

You wouldn’t know. You were mostly homeschooled and there was barely anyone your age, or even generation, in the community. By this point, it felt like there was no one left in Lincoln. Jesse was just gone one day, no kiss goodbye, not even a word. He always talked about going West, but you thought it was just a dream. Even Ellie and Riley went their own way when Ellie turned 18. You knew how hard that was for Joel, especially when he already lost Tess.

You averted your eyes from his jeans, then asked Joel, "What do you do? To deal with everything?"

Joel swallowed and clenched his jaw. His his eyes were dark. He hesitated, looked you over, then said, "Tell ya the truth? I'm the worst guy to ask. . . Shit, I knock myself out. I drink. I take pills."

You were flattered by his honesty and felt respected as an equal. Emboldened, you asked him, "Can you gimme some? I can't stop thinking about it. . .I cry every night."

“What, give you whiskey and pills?” Joel laughed, then saw how serious you were. It was surprising because you were so straight laced. You were of age but still never drank more than a sip of wine, and that was only if Bill or Frank insisted you taste a pairing. Never really snuck out. Never done more than kiss a guy - although you'd like to think you would've.

"I don't think your dads would like that, darlin'. I'm s'posed to keep ya safe–not sayin' you need keepin' safe–but I'm sure as hell not s'posed to give ya drugs 'n whiskey."

"I'd never tell," you promised, desperate for anything to get your mind off it and let you sleep. "if either of them ever makes it back." You started to cry again.

"Sorry, peaches." He kissed you on the head and you got butterflies. He stayed with you awhile longer until you stopped crying, then said good night.

You didn't expect to miss Joel, but you did, as soon as he stepped out the door. When you sat back down on the couch, it was even worse. You never realized how huge and deep that sofa was until you sat on it alone that night after Joel left.

You thought about Joel more and more. It was hard not to – he was the only person left. At least Jesse hardly crossed your mind anymore. Finally, after all that time wondering why he didn't say goodbye, you decided he just wasn't man enough. You wondered if you were ever truly attracted to Jesse anyway, or if he was just the only guy around.

- -

The next time Joel came over, you surprised yourself with your girlish reaction. Your cheeks burned as soon as you saw him, before you even answered the door. And when you noticed the whiskey bottle in his hand, your whole chest went hollow, making room for your affection. He was really treating you like the adult you were. You greeted him with a hug and his nose brushed your ear as he inhaled you. He smelled like whiskey, aftershave, and pine.

You got two glasses from the kitchen. He poured you a drink and slouched with his legs wide open and his long arm on the back of the couch. His other hand rested on his inner thigh. You asked if he was going to have a whiskey.

"Nah, had enough. Any more and I won’t be good company."

You wondered what that meant, but didn't pursue it. You sat shyly at the other end of the sofa and winced as you took a sip of your drink alone. You coughed and he came over and patted your back. Then he talked you through your next sip.

"Straight to the back of the throat. Can’t let it linger. Do the rest all at once.”

You took it as a shot.

“There ya go, darlin’. Good girl."

He resumed his splayed out posture at the other end of the couch and you sat where you were, still wincing and recovering from the drink. He gave you a subtle, knowing smirk and nodded toward his end of the couch.

You only moved half way down the sofa. "Get over here, darlin'," he said and patted the space right in front of his crotch. He brought his closest leg up onto the couch then coaxed you back between his arms and legs. You settled back into him, a little stiff at first. Nervous.

"Relax," he whispered. "You're safe. . . You're with me."

He rubbed the sides of your arms harmlessly, then his arms wrapped in front of you. His hands grazed your breasts lightly enough to pass for accidental as he hugged you. His breath deepened and his jeans twitched against yours, giving you butterflies between the legs. He slipped his arms under yours and you settled in like that, still nervous. You sat for what felt like a long time, and eventually, you relaxed into him. You felt the buzz of the whiskey.

Your head fell back against his shoulder. He stroked your head. He kissed you on the crown of your head every minute or so, comfortingly. Then, one time, his lips lightly touched the bare skin of your temple. Then your cheek. Then his hand nudged your face up toward his. You shifted your body to look at him and your hip moved against the bulge in his pants. He inhaled deeply at the friction, and your cheeks burned.

You studied his furrowed brow, wondering what he was thinking. Your heart raced and your skin felt hot from the buzz. Emotions ran high. You kind of wanted to do something, or you wanted him to do something. You just didn't know what, or how. He was still intimidating. You didn't know anything at all and were afraid to make a fool of yourself.

With heavy eyelids and rosy cheeks, Joel looked from your eyes to your mouth and back, then leaned in. When his nose brushed yours, you offered your lips and he closed the distance. He sucked in a chest full of air through his nose with his lips pressed into yours. You stayed mostly still as his tongue parted your lips and he seemed to suck the air out of your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and arousal flooded you. Then your lips embraced his and you let him taste your mouth.

His manhood swelled against you, much harder now, sending a rush to your core. Your heart pounded when you realized how wet you were getting. You scooted your butt forward, self-conscious of your contact with his privates. When you broke contact, Joel broke the kiss.

-

He stroked your head gently again and kissed your temple.

"You’ve never felt one before, have ya?" He asked soft and low as he slowly palmed the hard bulge in his jeans behind you.

Your face burned and you just barely shook your head no.

"It's ok, baby. It's s'posed to feel good."

"What is?" you asked shyly even though you figured you knew. You wanted to shrink into the sofa, but you'd be shrinking into him.

He gently pulled you back against him. With his hand on your stomach, he pulled you all the way in. His arousal was already stiffer, larger.

He lowered his voice and said, "Feelin' this against you, knowin' it's there." His hips lifted gently, and his hard package swelled against you. "It's s'posed to feel good. Nothin' to be ashamed of"

Butterflies swarmed inside you, multiplying, filling up your ribcage, your pelvis. He coaxed you into relaxing back on him again. He cradled you from behind and caressed your thigh for a minute, then his masculine hand slid between your knees, gently nudging them apart. His hand slid up one inner thigh and your legs opened for him all on their own.

"Feel it here?" he asked before he flattened his fingers and slowly, lightly felt the crotch of your pants. You didn't answer. You didn't have to. With several fingers, he ghosted a line from the seam of your pants up to your clit, driving you mad.

He pressed his hardness into you again with a soft grunt. His voice was low as he reassured you with his hand still between your legs. "See, what you're feelin' right here, it's natural. It’s right."

His other hand stroked your stomach, gradually approached your chest, then caressed your breast lightly with his hand mostly flat. His chest rose and fell under you. You inhaled deeply, your breast swelled into his hand, and he cupped it, grinding his hardness into you harder than before. Your nipples hardened and you got goosebumps all over.

You knew there was a pool in your panties, and you didn't want him to feel it if it seeped through your pants. If it hadn’t already.

As though reading your mind, Joel said in a near whisper, "and when it's wet here, that's a good thing." His thick fingers ghosted the crotch of your pants. "Means your body wants more."

"More what?"

"Well. . . We can figure that out together, darlin'." You weren't that naive, you just wanted to know what more meant to him.

He pressed his crotch into you again, hard as a rock, his fingers still lightly stroking you between the legs. “When you’re wet. . .makes me feel good, too. . . .” His breath was hot on your neck, then he began to leave open mouth kisses there.

Joel shifted behind you so you could see each other again. He took your hand in his. "Wanna feel it?" He put your hand on the hard bulge in his pants and thrust against it, biting his lip and lowering his already half-closed eyes. He was so hard, it made your whole body tingle. You could feel the outline of the head. It overwhelmed you with a level of arousal you never knew was possible.

-

"I think I should go to sleep," you said. It came out as a whisper

"Want me to tuck you in?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye, wrapping you in a hug. It was tempting. You suspected he meant more than that. Maybe he'd even stay over. You hated to see him go. It would be a jolting contrast to be all alone in this big house on all this land, not knowing when he might come back. But you couldn't bring yourself to say yes. It was something in your gut.

"Not tonight," you said.

Joel looked in your eyes and studied your face thoughtfully, then brushed your cheek. "Ok baby," he said. "Not tonight." He kissed your cheek. Feelin' a lil better though?"

"Yeah," you said. At least your mind was off things. You stood up and fidgeted with your hands behind your back.

He put his hands on his knees and stood up with a groan. You tried not to stare at the major protrusion in his jeans. He hugged you tight, and when you felt him from the front, it took your breath away.

"Why don’t you come by this week? We can go for a walk, pick some fruit. Trees are lookin’ real pretty.”

“Okay,” you said.

"Night, peaches." He kissed you on the cheek.

He left the whiskey there, but you wouldn't touch it without him.

-

You felt like you were aging a year a minute that night. Adults did these things. Even teenagers did these things. You were embarrassed to be several years into adulthood with no experience, no idea what you were doing. You were so far behind. You thought about Bill and Frank's attempt at "the Talk" – how precious you were and that you could love anyone, but needed to protect yourself. Especially from men. Joel seemed like the protector. Not someone you'd need protection from.

It was all happening so fast after years of nothing. You worried that if you didn't slow down, you'd miss it.

-

PART 2

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! It's really motivating to me and means the world 🖤

While you're waiting for the next part, consider catching up on my series that just wrapped (different story, Joel, & AU): Silence can never be bought, only rented.

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Lincoln tag list: @fan-fiction-floozy @ivyblxnde @lhymer1995 @sugarspiceanthrax @isimpforfictionalmen @zynbsblog @swedishscumfuck @sadgirlstoohightocare @steveharringtonswh0re @skythighs @aoziety @leeeesahhh @jupitersmoon-cal @peekymoon @dtfawn @pedrosbabygirl @shotgun-shelby @romanarose @reader-without-a-story @shewantstoknow @jaxxiepup @yvonneeeee @elvinaa @internetobssesed1234-blog @jbcalway

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxiousus @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime  @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #43

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, Please, be aware this chapter is NOT suitable for sensitive people! It’s also very important chapter in this story but if you’re sensitive person and get easily triggered by sensitive topics, do not read it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.4k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

It had been one of those evenings when they all had decided to meet, well most of them, at Hoseok's place. It hadn't been that long since they hung out together, hence the New Year's Trip that happened at the end of December and ended at the beginning of January. Ever since you left that day, the whole atmosphere kind of shifted. Not because of you though. Because of everything that happened which yes, involved you but it's nowhere near your fault.

This had been the first time they had been all hanging out together after that trip, unfortunately without your presence. Of course, you wouldn't have come either way. Not just because that evening had been your first day working back at the club, but also because Kiko had been there too. 

Jungkook knows you well enough you wouldn't have come even if he asked. Plus, he knows it wouldn't have been a good idea anyway. 

And maybe he was naive enough to think that evening would run smoothly and it really would be just one of those evenings when he gets to hang out and laugh with his friends. But was he wrong... 

"Yah! You already ate all of it!" Seokjin's dramatic voice booms out, causing Hoseok to flinch at the sudden outburst that is aimed at Jimin who innocently widens his eyes and opens his mouth.

Jungkook snorts under his breath, secretly snickering at his friend's red neck. 

"It's been here for an hour and anyone barely touched it!" Jimin finds his voice, frowning at the oldest that starts to complain under his breath while Jimin just scoffs and places the empty ball back on the coffee table. 

Kiko chuckles, catching Jungkook's amused eyes as he shakes his head at them which makes her chuckle even more. His arm is stretched behind her, resting on the back of the couch as she eyes Seokjin and Jimin. 

"Hobi, you've got some more snacks in the kitchen, right?" she asks her friend, causing Hoseok to think for a second before he nods.

"Yeah, I think so."

Kiko stands up, noticing Jungkook's curious eyes as she gives him a smile before she looks at everyone. "I'm gonna make you some more snacks."

She hears a few complaints of how she doesn't have to bother, but she just waves her hand already disappearing in the kitchen. After looking for different ingredients, she finds more popcorn and chips which she automatically pulls out, but that doesn't seem enough for five men that could eat all day. Remembering Jimin saying something about craving for something sweet and Hoseok agreeing half an hour ago, she thinks it through as an idea pops in her head. Checking more ingredients, she lets out a content grin when she finds all the ingredients for pancakes while she hears a distant bickering between what sounds like Seokjin and Hoseok, which makes her laugh a little. She focuses on her preparing everything for the pancakes.

It's quick and easy, her hands moving automatically until she's turning off the stove. Opening a glass jar of hazelnut spread, she notices Hoseok coming into the kitchen as he lets out a grumble, saying something about having to get soda for Jimin which she just responds to with a giggle. 

He grabs the bottle of soda, throwing a few glances at her which she doesn't notice, not until he sets the bottle on the kitchen counter, obviously not joining the guys right away. She chuckles, a soft smile appearing on her lips as she questionably looks at him.

"Jungkook is about to go." he informs her, knowing she knows about his plans and to be honest, he's not even sure why he started like that. He had to somehow start this conversation. It's been bothering him for quite some time now.

"Ah, yeah, he told me." she shrugs, not giving too much attention to it. What else does she have to say? 

"So... you and Y/N are still on bad terms?" he asks unsurely, fully knowing the answer to that and probably Kiko knows that, especially her own best friend because they had this conversation before. Still, she tenses a little at his question.

"I... I guess. I apologized but I know I made a mistake, she has every right to be mad at me." she admits, shrugging even though it bothers her.

"This is ruining you, I can see it. Are you really okay with her hating you?" he exclaims in disbelief, still keeping his voice down though.

Kiko stops what she's doing, letting out a huge sigh before she gives a look to him. "No, Hobi, I'm not," she says slightly bitterly, "I know how much it hurts Jungkook to see us not getting along, but it's my fault and I'm taking all that responsibility for it."

"And like I said, it's ruining you," Hoseok says right away, brows pinched together as a displeased frown makes its way on his usually bright face. "It's hurting you and you're not doing anything about it."

"What else can I do?" she exclaims suddenly, clearing her throat as she shifts her gaze away from him. Hoseok means well, she knows that. But talking about it and him trying to solve all of this is just impossible. 

"Talk to Jungkook." he proposes which makes her scoff.

"I talked to him about it, he didn't want to know anything else and I respect that. I already ruined a huge part of our relationship, I don't want to ruin the rest of it." she tells him and his gaze softens when her voice quivers slightly.

She holds a lot of emotions inside her and like Hoseok said many times, it's ruining her inside. Saying Jungkook doesn't want to know is just an excuse, so she doesn't have to face her biggest fear. But Hoseok knows her well enough to know, it's hurting her but she's desperately trying to cope with it because of Jungkook. Because she loves him and knows she doesn't deserve him.

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it. You're just telling that to yourself because you're scared," he tells her honestly, tone getting hushed and stern because she's too stubborn to even consider other solutions. "This is not gonna end up good, Kik and you know it."

Her eyes snap to his face, features hardening because she doesn't want to hear any of this. But Hoseok is determined and even though he's coming from a good place because he truly cares for her, she doesn't want to hear it. Just the thought of it pains her, it's hurting her too much.

"Hobi, please," she murmurs, heart hurting from his stern glance he's giving her. "Don't make this any harder."

"You've made this harder for yourself Kik and you know it," he reminds her and she quickly catches onto the sadness and disappointment in his voice. "This is hard for me too. Jungkook is my friend too."

She knows it, she freaking knows it and him talking about it makes her feel like she's about to burst in tears any second. The guilt eating her out alive to the point she can't pretend to be okay. But things are okay when she's with Jungkook. He has that effect on her and although she knows she hurt him the most and he deserves much better. Only he wouldn't be so sweet and never tried to get her back. 

She's selfish probably, she should've told him 'no' when he approached her and tried to win her back. She shouldn't have succumbed to her heart and feelings she has felt for him. She thought maybe it's another chance for her to make things right. But she got into even a bigger mess without Jungkook knowing. 

"I'm sorry..." she whispers, staring down at her feet in shame.

"No, Kik," Hoseok shakes his head, his own heart cracking at the sight of seeing her in such pain, not mentioning the same guilt he's been seeing for months now. That's why he has decided to voice his concerns to her. He can't see her destroying herself.

And that's why he opens his mouth again, determined to talk to her despite her current state of breaking down again. "I'm your friend, I told you I've got your back. I don't mean to sound as if I'm blaming you... but think about Jungkook. You've to tell him, you should've told him sooner."

Disappointment is written on his face this time, not even surprised when Kiko starts disapprovingly shaking her head. But he sees it. The fear. "No, no he doesn't wanna know," 

She sees the way he raises his brow at her, knowing she's in denial and he's about to open his mouth but she quickly continues. 

"Our relationship is good, Hobi, I can't risk ruining it any further. I'm aware everything is my fault and there is not a day I don't think about it, but I love him. I love him so much and now I finally got him back. Please." 

It's breaking his heart to see her beg him, it's hard to stay determined especially when she's on the verge of tears, sounding weak. But if he doesn't stay determined and make her see the truth she's so desperately afraid of, it's going to keep hurting and ruining her. She's never going to be truly happy. Not saying that Jungkook deserves to know the whole truth. 

Kiko is his best friend, but like it's been said, Jungkook is his friend too. It's hard to look him in the face, knowing things Jungkook doesn't know of. It makes him feel bad and guilty. Kiko is not the only one affected. This has and will affect even more people.

"This has gone too far, Jungkook might be okay with it because he loves you... but he deserves to know. It's hard for me too, but I'm not sure how long I can take it." He reminds her gently.

"Hobi!" she exclaims, panic visible in her eyes as Hoseok shakes his head and she knows he's already decided. 

"If you don't tell him, I will."

And that is everything she's been scared of, selfishly feeling betrayal from her best friend even though she realizes he means no harm. She's been hurting him too, the weight of her actions not hurting only her and Jungkook, but him too. 

"You wouldn't do that..." she shakily whispers, tears pooling in her eyes as he feels the need to look away.

"I'm sorry, Kik. I know I promised you, but this has gone too far. Jungkook is gonna hate both of us, but it's better than him not knowing the whole truth while you're torturing yourself every day. You might think you're happy but deep down, it's always gonna live inside you. And the truth always comes out, the sooner it'll it's better. For everyone."

She's shaking her head, hands clutching her chest as she's about to desperately trying to make him change his mind but before she can even open her mouth, she registers a movement from the corner of her eyes hearing another presence in the room. Her heart drops as soon as she's met with Jungkook, his face almost unreadable but yet one look at him, and she knows. He heard them. 

She barely notices the gasp that leaves her mouth, her insides rolling at the thought of Jungkook hearing their conversation that was never supposed to happen. Her already broken state doesn't make it hard for her to cry, which pains both of them and Hoseok knows it has to be done. Obviously, he didn't know about Jungkook listening to all of this but maybe that's for the best. Now she can't walk away from it and has to face it.

And she's about to lose it when she wants to get closer to Jungkook but he stops her immediately, keeping distance between them.

"I can explain," she jumps to say, "W-we were just talking and--"

"I don't wanna hear anything right now," he cuts her off, shaking his head.

She wants to be mad at Hoseok, for talking about such a thing right now when not only Jungkook, but the rest of the guys are here. Anyone could hear and the only person she wouldn't want to hear is standing right in front of her with a hurt yet empty face. Hoseok senses the tension, knowing he shouldn't be here right now and he excuses himself.

And when she tries to talk to him, explaining it even though she's not sure what to say, he stops her. He sees how confused he is by all of this, his thoughts are not settled and her trying to talk to him would just make it worse.

When 'no more secrets' makes it out of his mouth, she gasps and tries to make her way towards him again but he stops her again, but this time with a glare.

"No, whatever Hoseok wants you to tell me, you will. Tomorrow."

And those are his final words before he walks out of the room, her heart dropping and cracking all over again. Her weak legs not being able to hold her as the panic rising inside her makes her cry even more. And the only person who could bring her comfort just left, wanting from her something she's been afraid of.

The brown liquid in a cup does nothing but make Jungkook's stomach churn, it settles weirdly in his stomach as soon as he takes a sip, fully aware he has barely slept last night. How could he? Even though his body was pleading for some rest, his mind was too preoccupied with what he heard. And when his eyes finally closed for a short period of time, both mind and body not being able to take in the countless thoughts and tiredness, his dreams had been filled with different scenarios of Kiko and Hoseok. Together.

Instead of getting some energy from his usual morning coffee, he feels like throwing it up as his stomach protests whenever the brown liquid slides down his throat. Ever since he left Hoseok's place, he hasn't been the same.

On his way to get you, all he could think about was their conversation he wasn't supposed to hear. What has surprised him the most is the guilt in Hoseok's voice, telling him that he's much more involved than Kiko has ever admitted. 

The constant support she has gotten from him, the way he has been always there for her and even in the times when they had been broken up, Hoseok always treated her as a delicate doll – as if she wasn't the one who broke up with Jungkook. As if she wasn't the one who hurt him by breaking up with him and then admitting she cheated on him. 

Jungkook remembers the way his hand gripped the steering wheel tightly just at the thought of the only rational guess he could think of. When she assured him Hoseok is not the one she cheated with, he trusted her because her reaction seemed legit. But now that he heard their conversation and especially heard Hoseok, not just his words but the tone he was talking with. Sad, guilty, determined for Jungkook to know the truth.

He can't possibly be in this relationship when there's something happening behind his back, his curiosity and worry increasing rapidly. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to know any details of how it happened and with whom it happened. The less details he knows, the less it hurts and he can't possibly imagine how it'll hurt once he finds out who she cheated with. But now, after hearing Kiko and Hoseok talking and everything about it, he's determined to know the truth.

The ride to the club you're working at was blurry and not even the sight of you already waiting for him with a tired yet soft smile couldn't take his mind off anything. Still, he tried to appear as if nothing happened, spent almost an half of the ride with you complaining how tired you are but telling him you kind of missed it. You even admitted it took your mind off Haneul which relatively, you've been doing fine without him. Jungkook knows keeping yourself busy makes you feel better for numerous reasons. 

And on your part, it wasn't that hard to understand that Jungkook was acting somehow weird. He wasn't talkative as usual and for a moment you thought that the cause of him being so silent and distant, is because it's already late and he has to pick you up and drive you home. But who were you kidding? Jungkook was the first one that proposed picking you up and you knew that it's not the real reason behind his weird behavior. 

And fuck, he wanted to tell you so bad. He didn't even know what he really thought about it. Is he suspecting Hoseok of being the guy Kiko cheated with? Deep down, he knows he does. It makes sense but there's still a part of him that denies it, thinking Hoseok – his friend – wouldn't be able to do that to him. Does it even make sense? Hoseok and Kiko had never been that close.

As Jungkook felt quite overwhelmed, a lump in his throat almost hurting, he noticed how tired you were and that's when you voiced out your concern, asking him if he's alright, he just waved you off and assured you everything's fine. 

Both of you knowing that's not it and there's something more to his behavior, you respectfully minded your own business knowing if he wants to tell you, he will. 

Jungkook isn't even sure how you would react. Would you think Hoseok is able to do that to him? He knows there's some kind of weird tension between you and him, which undoubtedly is caused by the fact he's Kiko's best friend and he's always there to prove that to you. It's almost funny because both of you are actually the same. You and him are both protecting your best friends, proving it to each other.

Earlier in the morning, he had decided and quickly did it before he could change his mind, he texted Kiko the time he wanted to meet. When she had replied she'll be there, he had felt even more stressed from the entire situation. 

And he still feels like it, even when she's sitting on the opposite side of the dining table, nervously gripping the cup of tea he made her. A little trace of the lack of sleep is evident on her face and she seems just as stressed as he does. He can't bring himself to feel satisfied about it. Even though there's this hidden anger and annoyance inside of him (mostly hurt and pain though), he can't feel better to see she doesn't look any better in the first place. He still cares for her.

Perhaps, this is his fault too. He did give her a second chance, he wouldn't even be in this situation right now if he didn't. Yet, he doesn't regret fighting for their love and giving their relationship a second chance, no matter what anyone else thinks about it. To be fair, it's not anyone else's business either.

Kiko's shaky hands don't go unnoticed by Jungkook as she brings the herbal tea closer to her lips to take a sip. She's making him even anxious, to see her be this nervous and he's not even sure if he wants to hear everything. No, he has to... he's just trying to avoid all the pain he's been avoiding for months. 

He had been happy when they got together. It was something new for both of them, earning back that trust which wasn't easy but easier with the love they have been feeling for each other. Will that love be enough this time? 

"Did you drive here in this state?" He can't help but speak up for the first time after they greeted each other and Jungkook led her to his kitchen.

He still might feel like he's about to burst from all the uncomfortable emotions pooling inside him, but he's still worried when he sees how much she's affected by this. Even when she finally gets the courage to look at him, to see his tired and puffy eyes from the lack of sleep, he doesn't mistake the pain behind her brown irises. 

"No," She finds her voice, it comes out raspy and makes her clear her throat slightly as she looks away. "Hoseok drove me here. He's waiting outside."

Jungkook tenses at the mention of Hoseok, his thoughts and fear proving right so far but all he can manage to do is nod. He's definitely involved in this. He knew from the beginning Hoseok knows more than Jungkook does, but the thought of Hoseok being the guy is far worse. 

He rubs his face, covering his mouth for a second as he looks at her. Their eyes meet, sharing a similar pain and discomfort and he swears, he can't take it any longer. "It's him, isn't it?"

Kiko blinks a few times, her hands shakily putting down the cup. "What do you mean?"

She knows what he means, she knows what he's aiming at and she has the audacity to try to buy more time by beating around the bush. That makes him frown and an unappreciative look is sent her way as he's trying to keep it cool.

However, he faces her confidently with an arched brow, silently calling her out on her stalling. She knows very well what he's about to ask. 

"Hoseok," he says simply, "He's the one you cheated on me with." He doesn't ask, he simply states it as he lets his fearful thoughts that have been haunting ever since he heard their conversation out of his mouth. 

There's a beat of silence, Kiko's pupils widening for a moment as she stares at Jungkook with a slightly opened mouth. Her shaky hands land on her lap under the table, away from Jungkook's stern yet hurtful eyes. 

"No," she murmurs, shaking her head before she gets the courage to finally face him again, this time with desperation clear on her saddened features. "Of course not. I already told you it's not him."

That makes Jungkook scoff a little, shaking his head because how can he be sure she's telling the truth? When he looks at her, he doesn't see any traces of lie or something that could indicate her lying. But still, he has his own doubts and trust issues that are no one's fault but her. 

"Why not?" he shrugs bitterly, clenching his jaw. "It'd make sense." He sounds bitter and petty, he fully realizes it but he can't help it. The thought of them together, hurting him like that and doing something so disgusting behind his back makes him sick. 

"Jungkook, please," Kiko shakes her head, voice rising slightly. "Do you honestly think he'd be able to do that to you?"

"I've never thought you'd be able to do that to me and here we are," he exclaims, outstretching his arms all of a sudden which makes her eyes widen for a moment before they're filled with guilt. The same guilt he's seen countless times and that's why he wants to discuss this problem once and for all. "Now tell me the truth... it was him, right?" 

Jungkook isn't aware of the way her heart drops, all he can see is her looking extremely guilty and sad. She's breaking and a tiny part of him feels bad for it, he still loves her after all. No matter how sad, heartbroken and angry he might be, she's still his girlfriend who he loves despite what's about to come. Surely, it won't be any good news and he's aware of it. It's not something he can prepare himself for. He has to face it. 

"No, I already told you," she tells him desperately, letting out a shaky breath as she closes her eyes for a moment, feeling them burn. "It's not him."

He looks at her skeptically, searching her face that has the courage to look back at him. She knows he's trying to see whether she's telling the truth or not, so she faces him even when tears are pooling in her eyes.

And Jungkook doesn't get it. If it's not Hoseok, why the hell does she seem so guilty about it? Would she feel this guilty if it was a stranger? Or someone from her past he hasn't met? One thing is sure, she feels guilty no matter who it is. However, he can't help but let his mind go wild and the possible options. 

Is it someone else from their friends circle? The thought of it being-- no, he can't even think that. They wouldn't do that to him. They've been there for him through this time. She's not even on Taehyung's good side at the moment.

And something snaps inside him. All he wants is for her to talk, to tell him everything but so far she's just answering his guess. He can't control himself when the next words leave his mouth.

"Then fucking tell me," he slaps his hand against the dining table, a loud thud erupting in the kitchen as he stands up abruptly, closing his eyes as fingers run through his raven hair.

Despite his state, he notices Kiko flinch as she stares at him completely shocked, not expecting him to snap like that.

"Sorry," he murmurs an apology, not being able to look at her as he lets go of his hair. "Just-- just tell me everything. I need to know."

"I didn't want to... I still don't want to tell you," she murmurs, shamefully looking at her hands before she meets Jungkook's empty look. "You're gonna hate me and I'm not sure if I'm ready for that."

"I haven't hated you, not even when you came clean about your cheating. Don't you see that I'm trying? I gave you a second chance, I'm trying to find out the truth I deserve to know." He's not careful with his words, letting his heart speak as his tone turns into an accusatory one. 

"I know... I know," she groans, hiding her face in her hands for a second as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "It's so selfish from me, I'm so selfish but I love you so much, Kookie,"

He tenses at the nickname, hardening his glance which makes her smile a little. It's a sad, almost defeated smile. And he stays quiet, not letting the single nickname soften him as he demands answers. But Kiko hasn't said it to soften him, she has said it purely out of her heart because there's no way Jungkook will love her after this. 

"Just please know I did it to protect you, I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to hurt you any further."

"Please, just--" Jungkook almost whimpers, pleading with her to finally start talking because he's growing impatient with each word that leaves her mouth. He's standing, gripping the edge of his kitchen stool as he leans against it, knowing he can't just sit down and stare at her like they're having a casual conversation. 

Nevertheless, Kiko nods quickly and non-verbally lets him know that she's getting to it. 

"Jungkook," It's weird to hear her say Jungkook. He's mostly been Kookie to her, Jungkook sounds distant right now. "When I broke up with you, I wasn't planning on getting back with you. I broke up with you, so you would never have to know the truth. I was better off knowing you hate me for breaking up with you over a stupid reason, than knowing the truth..."

He's heard this before – when they had a conversion when the whole cheating situation came out. That's when he told her he wouldn't be able to hate her. He was hurt, yes. He spent days and nights trying to figure out why she would break up with him all of a sudden. He was so desperate and sad that he had to ask you for help. 

"But then when I saw you with Y/N... I was so hurt by all of it, knowing it's my fault because if I had never broken up with you, you'd still be with me but I had to do it. And then we talked and you confessed that you still love me. I've never stopped loving you Jungkook, so meeting up with you and talking with you about possibly getting back together seemed like the only right option for my broken heart,"

He has this sudden anger inside him, wanting to interrupt her and ask her; Are you the one with a broken heart? You broke up with me. You cheated on me. Of course, rationally it doesn't mean she isn't hurting too. But he's glad she's finally talking, noticing that it isn't easy for her as she brings her shaky fingers to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear every now and then, so he lets her talk while keeping his mouth shut. 

"You gave me a second chance and I thought 'What the hell did I do to deserve this? This must be my chance' and I selfishly took it because yes, I'm selfish but I also love you and I was willing to be with you with guilt eating me alive, if it'd mean I get to be with you again."

"I don't want to hear this, you know what I want to hear from you. The name. The explanation." he tells her sternly, not hiding another prominent frown adoring his extremely tired face. That's another thing she gets to feel guilty about. He has barely slept because of her. His second chance is biting him back in the ass right now. 

"You probably don't want to but you have to," she tells him simply, "I couldn't stay away even though I tried... but it was bound for us to see each other again, like at Jin's and Jia's wedding."

Yeah, that was unavoidable. Two of their friends were getting married, it'd be stupid not to come and attend because they knew one another would be there too. 

"Okay, I get that but what does it have to do with everything?" He knows she's trying to go into depth and maybe if their relationship and his heart weren't at stake, he would be actually patient. This doesn't mean he hasn't been listening though. "As much as it's nice to know you've never stopped loving me, I want to know about the cheating."

All she can muster is to give him a sad smile in return, nodding her head. "Do you remember when we went camping?"

"What about it?" he grumbles in return, growing even more impatient.

On the other hand, Kiko is very patient and even though her misery and sadness is more than clear, she breathes out a small smile. It's barely visible but Jungkook notices it, thanks to his feisty and curious glare. 

"We went for a walk to talk and you wanted to know the reason why I broke up with you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all of that," he exclaims, frowning. "Where are you going with this? I need the name and explanation, Kiko. Who's the fucker? Who did you fuck behind my back?"

Kiko's eyes widen once again, understanding Jungkook's loud tone and annoyance. Straightening himself, he lets out a huff as he settles a glare back on her. She visibly shifts on her spot, biting the inside of her cheek before she finally looks up at him.

"No one." she whispers.

"What kind of fucked up game is this?!" he exclaims, smacking his hands against thighs frustratedly. He has to turn around, taking a deep breath before he faces her again while she sits behind the table, looking small and fragile. 

He has every right to have this kind of reaction. He feels like he doesn't understand anything. 

"I'm telling you the truth... no one."

Jungkook scoffs at that, "Were you even planning on telling me? Why did you come here? I told you I want an explanation but all I got so far is--"

"I'm telling you right now," she interrupts him, "No one. The answer is no one, Jungkook,"

He's speechless for a moment, staring at her completely dumbfounded with a half-opened mouth as his brows furrowed in a confused glare. He's too shocked and confused to say anything and Kiko doesn't beat around the bush this time, opening her mouth again. 

"I've never cheated on you." she says softly, Jungkook's mind completely shutting down as he just stares at her.

He's not even breathing, quickly gripping the edge of stool as he stares at her with wide doe eyes. "You what..." he whispers, finally taking a short and shaky breath. 

"When you wanted to know why I broke up with you, you told me what Hoseok told you. I panicked because he promised me he wouldn't interfere and say anything to you, it's not his fault though. I begged him not to tell you anything and he has been nothing but a great friend to me. But for a moment I thought you knew, but then you added that you don't know the reason and you suddenly questioned me about cheating."

"B-but you said..." he trails off, too shocked to even finish a sentence. Oh fuck, he swears he's about to faint. He's not sure whether he should be happy or not, but all he can feel is a pure shock that makes him almost unable to react properly. 

"I panicked," She looks down in shame as she says it. "I went along with it because I know the truth would hurt you more."

"So you lied to me? All this time I thought you cheated on me, the hell, Y/N hates you for it and I was suffering ever since you told me that. You even realize what I've been going through?" he exclaims, not believing what he's hearing right now. Is there a chance she's lying right now? She said it herself, she didn't want to tell Jungkook any more details. She could be easily lying and tell him this to make him believe that she never cheated. Would she be able to do that? Fuck, he's not sure. 

"I'm so sorry," she tells him, features curled into a sympathetic gaze which Jungkook responds to with a scoff. "No matter what I say will make up for what I caused you. That's why I broke up with you and wasn't planning on getting back together. I made a mistake, I should've stayed away from you."

"No," Jungkook shakes his head firmly, "You should've been honest with me from the beginning. That's what I deserve."

She doesn't deny it, he's completely right and she knows it. She's not just sad and hurt, but also ashamed that she's being called out by Jungkook at this very moment, fully realizing things are about to get worse. Jungkook is already looking like he's barely holding up.

"I know..." she whispers.

A few seconds of silence follows as Jungkook is completely overwhelmed by the news, feeling like a rock has fallen off his heart. All this time he thought he wasn't good enough, tried not to think about her cheating too much even though that was almost impossible. And for his own sake, he settled on not wanting to know any details. Would she keep lying if he insisted knowing how it happened and with who?

But as his mind starts to process more thoughts and different kinds of possible scenarios, he's remembered of what she has said too. This is no longer just about cheating that proved to be a product of a big and painful lie.

"So, what's the truth?"

Kiko has been waiting for him to ask that but once he does, she's not ready for it as she expected to be. Deep down, she knows she wouldn't ever be ready for this but it's something she has to do.

"You told me the truth will hurt me more, so I'm asking... What's the truth? What's the real reason why you broke up with me?"

You're confused when you're in the middle of sorting out your dirty laundry when your phone starts to ring. Maybe it's Jungkook, you think, wondering what he's up to. He was acting weird yesterday when he picked you up. As much as you wanted to make sure he's okay and maybe pry a little to know if something happened, you quickly stopped yourself because he obviously didn't want to talk about it. Maybe he had a fight with Kiko. After all, she's still a sensitive topic between you two and even though you mostly try to keep your opinions rational, it's been a very dangerous zone mentioning her.

He could tell you they had an argument and you wouldn't even have to hear what it was about before you'd have a bitter remark back. And Jungkook knows that, so he probably decided not to say anything. Plus, it doesn't have to be something serious.

However, being you and your usual nosy self, you didn't miss the opportunity to ask Jimin when he texted you later in the evening yesterday. Apparently, they both acted weird and when Jungkook left to pick you up, Kiko left soon after looking as if she was crying. Hoseok was acting weird too, almost as if he knew what happened between them but never commented on it for the rest of the night. 

Your brows twist into a confusion when an unknown number is calling you, your annoyance rising. It's probably another mobile operator or someone from the insurance company trying to get you to take a mortgage. You're about to cancel the call but you've this weird feeling, something urging you to pick up. It's Sunday, do they even call on Sundays?

With a sigh, you pick up the phone and you're not going to lie, annoyed you make an appearance when you not so pleasantly answer the call with a; "Hello?"

"Y/N?"

You're confused, pulling away from the phone with a scrunched nose and confused glare as you stare at the unknown number. The voice seems familiar but you can't quite pinpoint who it is. "Yeah?"

"It's me Hoseok," he says, somehow sounding nervous for some reason. When did he even get your number? You've never given it to him, that's for sure. There never was a reason to give him your number anyway. 

"You free to talk?"

"Uhhh, yeah?" you ask unsurely, caging your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you start continuing to rummage through your clothes, separating white from colorful clothing. 

"Listen, I need you to come to Jungkook's place."

You freeze for a second, "And why's that?"

"He needs you." he says, sounding more confident and kind of panicky which makes a pang hit you in your chest. 

"Did something happen?" You sound an alarm, dropping down your dirty white blouse back to the laundry basket that's on the floor as you straighten yourself, gripping the phone into your hand. 

"I--just trust me please. You need to come to Jungkook's place like, right now. He needs you."

"You're scaring me, Hoseok." you tell him, but your legs still move you to your bedroom to get you out of your pajamas before you're already pulling out a random pair of sweatpants from your closet. 

"I'm sorry, but I had to call you. Please, just come here as fast as you can." He sounds desperate and what you can't see is the way Hoseok frustratedly rubs his forehead as he stares at the apartment complex where Jungkook lives. 

He's been in his car for quite some time and there hasn't been any sign from Kiko coming down. He knows their conversation will take its time, he's fully aware of it but he knows what Kiko is about to tell him won't end up good. For both of them, but right now, he's mainly concerned about Jungkook. What is about to be dropped down on him will ruin him.

"Alright, I'm coming." 

Hoseok hears rustling and you rushing, the call between you two ending as he lets out a shaky breath. He doesn't feel any better but still, there's at least some kind of hope that you'll get here. 

After all, he wasn't lying. Jungkook needs you, even if he doesn't know it yet. 

Each passing second seems like an hour, at least to Jungkook who stares at his girlfriend with a stern and solid look. He's completely oblivious to the battle that's happening inside her head. She's going to lose him, she knows she will but she has to face the consequences. She also has to come with the terms that's what's going to happen. There's no way she can save their relationship after this. 

What Jungkook is not oblivious about, is her constant shaking fingers that yes, breaks his heart but he has to control his worried and protective side. It's nothing new but he knows she's the one at fault in this and as much as his heart is big and generous, he just wants to know the truth after all.

"Listen," he sighs, widening his eyes when she flinches, not expecting him to say something. It's like she's scared of whatever he's about to say. It makes him even more nervous, but also curious why she's acting like this. 

"Whatever you're about to tell me, I can see it's affecting you and you're worrying me. But I've to know, you understand that, right?" 

She nods weakly, sniffling a little as she looks up and meets his big doe eyes that aren't as welcoming as they were when they met. He looks stern, features hard and sharp but even despite that, there's a hint of concern in his chocolate dark eyes.

But this time, Jungkook doesn't wait around and stares at her, giving her the time. So he presses again, impatience clear in his voice. "Tell me the reason, Kik."

And that's the hitting point when a loud sob leaves her mouth as she starts crying, covering her face with hands. Jungkook's features soften but he doesn't move from his spot, simply watching her body shake as she cries. She's trying to hold it in, pulling hands away from her face as she takes a deep yet shaky breath. And then she musters all the courage to look him in the eyes for god knows how many times.

"I... I was pregnant," 

The words are whispered but Jungkook has heard it nevertheless, his whole body freezing. What did she say? It feels like the blood has drained from his body and the whole world has stopped. He'd have believed it if it weren't for Kiko and her obvious body movement as she starts sobbing. 

"You--what?" Jungkook manages to choke out, feeling his throat tightening and even the simplest thing like breathing makes him feel like he's about to choke.

Kiko's features twist painfully as she sucks in breath before opening her mouth. She has already said it. There's no way of going back. "I was pregnant,"

This time slightly louder, Jungkook's mouth falls open as the same shock fills up his whole face.

"With your baby."

And that makes him almost lose his balance, his hands quickly grasping the edge of the kitchen island. All he can hear is the word 'pregnant', not believing that this is happening. The simple sentence keeps repeating in his head but it's far from simple, he still can't fully process what she just said to him.

He feels ringing in his ears, shutting his eyes tightly when he can't forget another detail in the three word sentence. His voice comes out as desperate, the usual sweet yet deep voice is gone as both of them can hear that it's breaking. He is breaking. 

And again, Kiko braces herself for yet another shocking and breaking news that would surely be the ending call. Full of shame, her own voice breaking when she says; "I got an abortion." 

And that's the final straw for Jungkook because before shock fully settles inside him again, he can't take it and feels a harsh pang in his chest. That kind of pain that he has never felt before. Sadness, betrayal, anger... he can't possibly name all the emotions he's experiencing and feeling right now. 

Jungkook doesn't think of himself as someone who's mentally completely strong, can get through anything in life and is undestroyable. Yet, he's not weak either. Oh, well, it's better to say that he never really had to experience something that would make him feel weak – at least not to the point he felt like going on his knees. But that's changed. Because if it weren't for the tight grip he has on a kitchen island, he'd surely be on his knees right now.

He lets his heart and emotions speak, the utter heartbreak and loss he's feeling makes his eyes sting with tears as they start coming down his cheeks in waves. No sound makes it past his lips though. Once he hears the stool screech against his marble floor in the kitchen, he grows tense and turns around. 

Kiko stops in her tracks, her face mirroring Jungkook as she can't seem to stop crying, but this time they just stare at each other. Kiko stares in pain, Jungkook in a hundred other emotions that's enough to break every single heart that would see him. 

"Why?"

It's a simple question, yet holds so much pain as Jungkook manages to ask, having to look away because he's not sure how much he can look at her without breaking apart. 

Maybe something happened and she had to-- no, he's not going to think about possible reasons of why she did that just to make himself feel better, even if it's not possible. 

"I--I wasn't ready," she tries to say, her voice shaky as she notices the way Jungkook's whole back tenses while his jaw is clenched so tightly that he's scared he's about to crack it.

Betrayal is the first thing that crosses his mind. There are so many questions that keep screaming inside his mind and it causes something to snap inside him. Grabbing his phone that's been sitting a few inches from his hands, he surprises both of them when he throws it against the wall. The device breaks apart as soon as it hits the wall, flying to three different directions.

Kiko jumps in surprise, a surprised yelp leaving her mouth and more tears welled up in her eyes when she glances back at Jungkook who keeps his head low, shaking his head. 

"We weren't ready, Jungkook. It happened all of a sudden--"

"That happens when people have unprotected sex," he snaps, straightening himself as he turns around and glares at her. Despite the anger evident on his face, there's mostly sadness and disappointment that anyone would notice if they knew Jungkook for so long. 

"I was on birth control, Jungkook," she reminds him softly and stupidly, knowing it's completely lame – at least Jungkook thinks that when he scoffs loudly. 

They both knew the risks, obviously both of them weren't planning on having a baby so soon. He wanted to do it step by step. Maybe he's old fashioned but he wanted her to move in with him. He knew he wanted to propose in the near future as well. But if she got pregnant and even if it wasn't planned, he wouldn't be angry and he would act responsibly according to that. 

They are a couple, were dating for over two years back then, but that's not what breaks him the most. Is the fact she did something like that without him knowing. She didn't tell him, she kept it a secret and it was too late to change her mind. It hurts him to think she didn't come up to him and talked to him about it.

"I can't believe you," he whispers, shutting his eyes tightly because a sudden mourn overcomes him. He's not sure how much he can take. "I deserved to know!" he suddenly yells, shaky hands going into his hair as he tugs on it harshly. 

She stares in shame at him, knowing looks are crossing her features but there's nothing she can do. She can't change anything.

It all makes sense. How scared she looked when he asked her about the reason for their break-up. How guilty she looked and said she made a mistake, that she regrets it and will live with it for the rest of her life. 

He suddenly imagines their baby, wondering if it was a girl or a boy. What the baby would look like. Would the baby look like him? Would the baby have his personality? Would the baby be a perfect mix of them both? 

Being a father wasn't his nearest goal but surely was something he was looking forward to and if it happened at the most unexpected time, he wouldn't even think of getting rid of... her or him? 

"You didn't tell me, I had every right to know about that! How dare you make such a decision without me even knowing you were--" He can't bring himself to even say it, pressing his lips tightly while she wipes the never ending tears off her cheeks. 

"It's my body." She tries to argue, trying to find something to protect herself even though she realizes Jungkook is right. She had much more time to think about this than he has. Everything he feels towards her right now, she felt towards herself for months. 

"And it was my baby too!" he yells, trashing his hands angrily. "I can't believe you'd have done something like this. You betrayed me. You--you didn't even tell me you were pregnant, we could've talked about it. Do you think I wouldn't be able to take care of you?"

She shakes her head quickly, desperation curling on her face as she tries to take a step closer to him but he takes a step back.

"Of course not," she cries out.

Now it's not the time to feel insecure but fuck, does it hurt knowing she didn't want to have his baby. After two years of dating, he thought she loved him. That she trusted him and she completely broke his trust, and him too. 

"The doctor told me there's a chance the baby is not healthy. They couldn't run too many tests because I was still early in the pregnancy... it was a risk and--and I panicked," Jungkook scoffs, getting angrier and sadder with each word she says. It's like he can't stand her talking. "Jungkook, I've thought about it every second since the doctor told me that. We weren't ready for a baby, Jungkook, but if the doctor told me the baby is all healthy, things would be different. We would be able to work it out maybe, but--"

"Shut up," Jungkook cuts her off, taking a shaky breath as he shakes his head, "Just shut up," he says angrily this time.

"When-- when did you..."

He doesn't even have to finish a sentence for her to know what she's asking. 

"After I broke up with you," she whispers, seeing another pained look on Jungkook's face.

So when she broke up with him, she was carrying their baby. The baby they made with love without them even knowing. Still, it was proof of their love – expected or not. 

"I couldn't--I couldn't tell you what I was about to do. I knew it'd affect you and hurt you, I knew it'd destroy you--"

"So you came up with a lame excuse. Do you even know what I've been through? What have I done to get you back?" He bitterly chuckles at himself how stupid and naive he was. He was fighting for her this whole time without knowing she fucking betrayed him and hurt him in a complete different manner. 

She looks away, not being able to look him in the eyes as she weakly nods, sobbing. 

"I understand it's your body--but the baby--it was mine too. I had every right to know about it." He tries to sound angry but his voice cracks and he's ready to fall apart.

"I know..."

"You know?!" he yells, ignoring the way she flinches. "You know and yet you've--just--leave, fucking leave." he snaps desperately, hands rubbing his red and puffy face as his palms get wet from the tears that are running down his face. 

He's not sure if he ever cried like this before. One thing he knows is that he has never felt this kind of heartbreak and pain before. This is something completely new to him and he has no idea how to cope with it. But what he does know is that he can't be in her presence. Not when he can barely look at her.

"Jungkook, please--" she cries out, running towards him as she grasps his hands desperately but she gets pushed away easily by him. It's the first time he has ever done something like that. She is shocked but then the shock is gone, fully understanding his reaction. It's breaking her. 

"Get out," he snaps, pointing towards the door. She's crying, loudly and messily and still tries to hold onto Jungkook but he grasps her forearms and shakes her a little. "Get the fuck out!" he yells, pushing her away, still careful not to push her too hard. He really doesn't want to hurt her, he's not capable of hurting her like that but right now, the pain is ruining him.. 

"I don't ever wanna see you again." 

She freezes, her mouth opening before a loud choked sob leaves her mouth. She's staring at him, stupidly hoping that he said it just because he's hurt but no. He's too upset right now and she fears that when she walks out of this apartment, she will never see him again. A tiny part of her is reconciled with that but the other rejects the most obvious. This is what she has been so scared of. Her biggest fear became a reality. She knows it's all her fault, she messed up badly and there's no turning back because one look at Jungkook, she already knows she lost him.

The usual sweet and loving boyfriend that has always loved her from day one, is now standing a few meters away from her completely broken, and it's all because of her. 

And that moment she realizes that there's nothing she can do and the best thing she can do for him, is to leave as he requests. It's enough that he can't even look her in the eyes, avoiding to look even in the direction she's standing. He despises her, hates her probably right now. She wouldn't be surprised.

So she turns around, barely holding herself as she quickly rushes out of his front door after grabbing her coat and putting on her shoes, nearly colliding with someone that almost easily pushes her to the ground, if it weren't for the grasp on her shoulders that holds her balanced. 

The first thing you notice is the way her whole body shakes, loud sobs leaving her mouth as she looks at her, probably not recognizing you at first from her blurry vision and all the tears that are the cause of that. 

"What happened?" you ask shocked, letting go of her hands as she's crying so hard that even you're shocked and completely speechless. Yet, your heart beats fast at all the possible scenarios that happened.

You haven't talked to Hoseok, not even when you rushed out of your car and noticed his own parked in the distance. All you could think of were his words and that you're needed right now. But you've never imagined this – Kiko shaking and crying so much that you're actually worried about her. She looks like seconds from a panic attack and you panic too, cursing that you didn't call for Hoseok so he could come up with you.

But you couldn't have expected this to happen. 

She's shaking her head, trying to rush past you but you block her, staring at her with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she cries out, bumping into you as she rushes past you, not even waiting for the elevator as she takes the stairs.

You stand there frozen for a moment, but that's until you hear a loud crash coming from Jungkook's apartment, the front door of it still opened when Kiko barged out of there. You quickly rush inside, shutting the door with a loud thud that makes you cringe. You don't even take off your shoes, your heart dropping when you hear another crash that comes out from the kitchen. 

The sight you see when you make it there, it's something you've never seen before and it makes your heart drop all over again. Jungkook is like in a trance, glass scattered all over the floor as he grabs a cup on the dining table before he smashes it against the wall. The dark liquid makes an awful stain on the wall and you gasp, rushing towards Jungkook when he's already taking another vase off his kitchen counter.

"Jungkook! Jungkook!" you yell at him, gripping his wrists tightly as he fights against your hold.

It's only when you get closer to him you realize that he's crying, his eyes red and puffy, causing your stomach to twist. His hair is falling into his face but you can still make out the pain and how much he's trying to turn, so you can't see him. But it's too late.

You almost yelp when he tries to pry your hands off him, him being completely stronger he can do that very easily, but not in his current state. 

"What happened? Jungkook, what happened?" You're surprised when a loud sob comes out of his mouth, completely shattering your shocked state as the simple sound and sight of him makes you cry too as you ask him those questions. It already breaks your heart to see him like this and there's no time to be shocked about it. 

He's crying, a choked up sobs causing his body to shake before he stumbles into the wall behind him and you're trying to hold him, as he slides down the wall defeatedly, with you going with him.

You're not waiting for anything, your body moving automatically as you hug him closer to yourself, his face pressed against your chest as he finally allows himself to cry even more. 

All you can do is to be there for him so you hold him, not uttering a single word because you know nothing you could say would help. You hold him tightly, letting him know you're there for him even though you're not sure if he truly pays attention to you. Hoseok was right, he needs you.

What the hell happened here? Did he and Kiko fight to the point it went this wrong? None of this makes any sense, so you wonder... Did he fight out who she cheated with? Did he figure out who it was? And Hoseok knowing all about this – is he the one who she cheated with? Your thoughts are running wild, frequently distracted by Jungkook who has seemed to calm down in your hold as he has stopped resisting.

However, the constant crying never ends, not even when the loud sobs aren't just as loud anymore. The whole kitchen looks like a mess, glass shattered everywhere caused by Jungkook's anger or whatever that was and you kick a few shards away from the two of you, so you wouldn't cut on it accidentally. It's like a bomb has exploded here and it makes you even more concerned.

"You're okay..." you murmur, your voice shaky as your own cheeks are wet from the tears. Pecking the top of his head you hear him sob again as this time, he holds your arms and squeezes it tightly. 

He's far from okay actually, anyone could tell that. 

Just when it seems as if he calmed down, occasional sniffles coming out of him while his body seems to not be shaking as much, you don't expect him to say anything. You've been sitting there for quite some time, you holding him while he cries it out whatever that has happened between him and Kiko. 

"She... she was pregnant," You barely understand what he's saying, but somehow you catch onto it and your breath hitches. "She never cheated," he speaks out, voice completely broken and raspy from all the crying. He doesn't even sound like Jungkook and that scares you. You're seriously worried about him but you don't dare to move to look at his face.

You're glad he's able to talk, that he's talking to you.

And you don't ask, no matter how much your heart drops at his words, no matter how shocked you're. You let him tell you at his own pace, even though your mind is going crazy. Kiko and pregnant? Was pregnant? The worst scenarios are about to come up in your head but you shake them off, heart painfully crying for Jungkook instead. 

"She got rid of our baby." And that's when he loses it all over again, crying out loud as he says that extremely painful truth that makes you gasp, your own sobs leaving your mouth when Jungkook breaks all over again.

And you're breaking with him, not being able to imagine what kind of pain he's going through. You're completely clueless of what to do and how to ease his pain, knowing it's not possible at the moment and if ever. 

So, just like you've been doing ever since you rushed to his place, you hold him even tighter, your lips giving a peck on the top of his head. Even the mess of scattered glass on the floor doesn't compare to the damage Jungkook's heart is experiencing.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 3: Honey Trap

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: A Farmer’s Market and Pouring out your heart over a beer leads to Bucky learning more about his favorite mysterious farmer

Content/warnings: mentions of previous heartbreak and descriptions, a surprising amount of crying/near-crying, soft mobster Bucky, Heartless Jake, Creepy Cole, mentions of blood/period (not graphic and should be normalized because this happens to me all the time and I know I’m not alone in that), excessive drinking and lowkey alcoholism, cowboy hat rule, mutual pining and reluctance towards that, y/n used like three times

Word Count: 5,295

A/N: I didn’t mean for this chapter to be this long, but also, I definitely meant for it to be this long. Sorry for making dear, wonderful, Jake Jensen out to be a bad guy, and NOT sorry for making Cole Turner a creep. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are SUPER appreciated. Thank you for reading, I love you *gives forehead kiss*

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky knew lots of languages. Country was not one of them. You would think it would be, with how many arms purchasers were from the south, but he kept his dealings with those folk as short and formal as possible. It was better for his sanity and everyone else that way.

He’d been running into a lot of country folk today, helping you run this farmer’s market out of one of your barns. Half of his conversations with people were full of twangy words and phrases he didn’t understand, so he just lightly laughed, hoping that was the right response. The other half were children, asking him what the bump was on the side of his head, the result of the bee incident earlier this week. Before, it was slightly swollen and red, but it was nearly back to normal. Darn kids have keen eyes, though, and no shame. He’d just about had enough. These people were too polite, besides their annoying children. Lucky for him, though, he’d sold off the last of the turnip greens, and his cash box was full, so he made his way over to you at the stand holding the freshly jarred honey you’d successfully, and he’d not-so-successfully harvested earlier in the week. It was just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation he saw you were having with a slightly older woman.

“You’re like our very own honeybee”

“Oh please, Mrs. Jensen, you know the bees do all the work. I just put it in a jar”

“You’re too modest, dear. My Jakey says no one makes sweeter honey than you. I always tell him to come back and help if he loves it that much, but it seems he’s too late now. Looks like you’ve got yourself a new farm hand who’s easy on the eyes”

Bucky glanced up at her through his eyelashes with his signature smirk, raising to a stand from setting the empty turnip green crate at your feet. “Well you know what they say, honeybees don’t work alone. And their hard work makes the world go round.”

For some reason unbeknownst to him, Bucky slung his hand over your shoulder. Was it jealousy he was feeling? Possessiveness? Why, he didn’t own you and he promised himself he wouldn’t fall, physically or metaphorically (although it was far too late physically, and he didn’t want to think about how close he truly was metaphorically). Plus, it’s not like he was having the best time right now. This whole week was a nightmare, and the only reason he was in a decent mood was from seeing your smile as you interacted with the town’s folk today. You were a person of the people, in juxtaposition to how Bucky was often only looking out for himself. So why did the mention of Jakey make this feel necessary and why did it feel so right? Either way, he was proud of you and your hard work and the way it made people beam as bright as Mrs. Jensen. But he’d never say that. Where he’s from, hard work is expected and definitely not praised, although not nearly as manual. But seeing all the effort for that couple jars of honey made him question if the work he was even doing was that hard. Maybe he’d been away from the city too long and was losing perspective. Yeah. That had to be it.

“Well, either way, bless y’all’s heart for putting in the work. I’ll tell Jake you say hello.”

You and Bucky both waved goodbye.

“Well how about it Honeybee, Jakey appreciates all your hard work” he smirked, but watched the smile slide off your face.

“Try telling me that with our awful breakup years ago” you shrugged off with a small chuckle, but Bucky could see the light drain out of your eyes a little. He had obviously struck a nerve, but didn’t want to push farther, at least not now when there were still a few customers aimlessly shopping around for the last bits of produce left. Maybe he’d catch you once the two of you were alone.

You turned away from him to hide your grimace. Thinking back to that whole situation with Jake, on top of serving others all morning had completely drained you and it was quickly catching up.

“Um, why don’t you finish cleaning up the rest of the empty crates after you ask those last few people how you can help them with anything” you waved off Bucky back towards the other end of the barn, head down, starting to look through the cash box he had handed you. You waited until you could hear his receding footsteps on the hay floor to sniffle and take a deep breath. Bucky had keen ears, though, and hesitated hearing your sigh, before he continued on, giving you your chance to regroup. He had never seen you like this before, you were normally chipper and full of energy, often a little too much for his liking, but luckily it was Friday, and after he closed these deals, you both were home free.

Bucky quickly helped the last few stragglers take their rather large haul back to their car. An older man and woman who owned the bar in town had come to get some fresh vegetables for their salads, and Bucky convinced them to take the lot with his charm. That, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to carry them all the way back to storage. That was a long way, and you made him walk it. He rolled his eyes when you had told him about the task, too, handing him the handle to a little red wagon with a beaming smile on your face, insisting “that’s how Pappy did it before his first tractor” and “what did you think, I like wasting diesel for food that’s supposed to have a low carbon footprint? That’s why I’ve got you, Bucket.” So Bucky grumbled under his breath at first light, angry, yet amused that the nickname stuck, but still too tired to react any differently when he started the first of his dozen trips to move the produce from storage into the farmer’s market barn. And there was no way he was gonna do that again, so he convinced the couple to take the lot, even offering to carry it out to the car for them, because that was better than the quarter mile walk both ways through the tall grass of your fallow fields to return them.

“Thank you so much for your help, Jamie. You’ve taken such good care of us, you should come by the bar later if you can get some free time from Miss Y/L/N over there. She’s quite the hard worker, maybe bring her along. Drinks on us.” The older lady looked at Bucky with a soft smile.

Jamie, no one had called him that since his mom. Country folk and their want for instant closeness. He hardly knew this lady and already she was trying to be endearing, but her forced charm was nothing compared yours even when you weren’t trying. She looked over Bucky’s shoulder at you carrying a stack of heavy wooden crates out of the barn, hardly struggling, but very determined before sliding them back into the truck. Bucky’s eyes followed hers, a small grin of admiration creeping onto his face at your independence and mastery at everything you do, no matter how simple.

“Yeah, hardest worker out there. I’ll see if I can convince her to take a break.” He turned back and walked the lady to her door, opening it for her to get in.

“Drive safely. Hope to see you later Mr. and Mrs. Carter.” He shut the door and made his way back over to your truck. You had already gotten in and started it with the windows down. Bucky slid into the bench seat to be met by you with your forehead resting on the wheel in between your hands. You took a sharp inhale and shot up, putting on a fake smile, albeit less forced than earlier.

“Ready to go meet Curtis? We’ve just gotta touch base with him and then we’re good to be done for the day.”

“Um, yeah. Sounds good.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how to continue with you in that mood. Should be keep talking? Did you prefer the silence to think? The radio was low on the dash, but not silent, so he decided to speak up.

“Did you see who I was helping? They said they own the bar in town. Maybe we can go for a drink tonight? Celebrate a long week done?”

You sighed. Again. “Um, yeah. I actually think that sounds really good. We both need the decompression. TGIF, ya know?” You forced out a small laugh which Bucky returned and he turned forward as you continued the drive back toward your house.

When the two of you entered the farmhouse, your were greeted by Curtis, your weekend farmhand, sitting at the dining room table. He had already helped himself to a glass of sweet tea you kept in the fridge, mainly for him, which was made from your Aunt’s recipe he loved so much.

“Oh, good, you’re back from chores already.” Curtis had been kind enough to come in today to work on some tasks since you and Bucky had your hands full with the market. He usually only worked Saturday and Sunday since this was his second job, but he’d sometimes come in to help extra, like today.

“Bucket, this is Curty b—oh sorry, Curtis. He’s the one that makes sure things run smoothly when I’m not. He’s a whiz at fixing the machinery, perks of him also being the best mechanic in town.”

Bucky warily stepped forward, eyes narrowed, barely noticeable, and shook Curtis’s hand. Who is this guy who let himself into your house? “Bucky is fine, really.”

Curtis let out a chuckle, “nice to meet you, Bucket. It’s ok, I talked to Y/N about making cheese curds once, and she’s called me ‘Curty boi’ ever since.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, looking over his shoulder. You just shrugged with a small smile on your face, already more relaxed and relieved to be inside your home with someone you didn’t feel like you had to put up a front for, that was reassuring. Bucky went into the kitchen to get you both a glass of water as you sat next to Curtis at the table, joined by Bucky sitting across after he handed you your glass. The three of you briefly talked about the chores Curtis had done that day, how the farmer’s market went, and what all needed done that weekend.

Curtis seemed nice, not threatening. The visceral tinge of jealousy left Bucky’s body as the conversation went on. If Curtis was going to make a move, he would’ve done it by now, surely. But the two of you were clearly just close friends. Why did Bucky keep feeling like this?

As you wrapped up, Curtis slapped his knees with both his hands and went to stand. “Well, I better get going, sun’s starting to get pretty low.”

Curtis and Bucky had been getting along pretty well, so you spoke up. “Well actually, Bucky and I were gonna go to the bar in town tonight. Care to join?”

“Yeah, I’d love to. There are just a few things I’ve gotta check on in the shop first, but I can drop by after. Does that work?”

“For sure. We’ll see you then” You and Bucky shared a small smile before you closed the door behind Curtis and turned back to the mob boss standing in your foyer.

“Ok, Cowboy. Good job today. Go take a shower, we’re going out.” Bucky beamed, which you returned, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest at your praise.

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Honeybee” you smiled and rolled your eyes as he ran up the steps, following behind to get ready, yourself. He was really glad your mood was starting to turn around.

As Bucky went to his room to gather his clothing, his mind started to drift towards why he cared how you felt. He was just here for business, right? So why did it bother him if you were sad? If anything, he should want you vulnerable to help him come out on top of your business, but something deep inside of him felt more satisfaction when you were winning. He shook the thoughts from his head. Maybe a cold shower could help him sort this out.

Bucky came down the stairs and sat on the couch just as he heard your hair dryer start up. He had gotten ready quickly, throwing on one of his henleys, his nicer jeans, and a pair of boots Sam had sent him this week when he had heard about the whole ‘borrowing clothes situation.’

He shot Steve a text, telling him that the two of you were going out to the bar with Curtis, to which he replied Have fun, Bucket😉.

Ugh, why did he have to tell Steve about that, it was never gonna go away now. Bucky had gotten a call from Steve each evening giving updates on the business, with Bucky doing the same on his end, keeping it short, only noting the highlights and trying to keep his emotions in check and out of the updates. His best friend knew better, though, even if Bucky wasn’t fully aware of the extent of his feelings yet.

Bucky got up and walked around, looking through the photos and knick knacks in your living room, before stopping by the mirror behind your front door and checking his appearance. This look wasn’t what he was used to. He was extremely dressed down compared to the designer suit he’d likely be sporting in one of his clubs if he were back in the city. He hadn’t even bothered to gel his hair because it seemed you didn’t care when he did, plus, he wanted to save that valuable product for a real occasion, no use in wasting it to go slum with a bunch of hillbillies. He looked to the coatrack next to the mirror to see a hat that matched his boots perfectly and plopped it on his head, swaying side to side to see how it looked.

Just then, you started to make your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks seeing Bucky in that hat. His head snapped up to look at you.

“What? Does this hat make me look dumb?”

You smiled and shook your head.

“No, not at all” Bucky could see tears well up in your eyes, accompanied by sparkles of fondness and, sadness?

“That was my uncle’s hat. He taught me everything I know”

“Oh, I’m so sorry” Bucky went to take the hat off but you stopped him.

“No- it’s okay. It looks good on you. Go ahead and wear it out tonight.”

Bucky looked back at you with a somber nod as you continued back down the stairs, taking a deep breath to settle the emotions that had nearly breached the surface.

Even in this state, you looked gorgeous. Hair flouncing in the breeze that was created as you drifted down the steps, wearing makeup he hadn’t seen since the first time you two had met and a sundress that blew him away. You were gorgeous in all states because you were you. Bucky looked down, kicking his feet, to pull his magnetic glance from you. He’s really gotta switch up the power dynamic here, and if there was one place Bucky could feel at home after a week of embarrassing himself, it was a bar. He grabbed the keys and you followed with an eye roll, getting into the passenger seat of your own truck. He didn’t even know where he was going, but he looked at you with a sly grin. Like for the first time, he had the upper hand, and that would only come from being anywhere but on your farm.

Bucky was a good driver, despite his statements about some guy named ‘Gio’ and grumbles about Sam, who you had met once before. Besides that, the drive was filled with laughs reminiscing all the mishaps he went through that week, well, mostly you laughing, and Bucky doing his best to hold a smirk from showing too obviously, his eyes narrowed at you in contrast.

The two of you pulled into town as you pointed Bucky towards a decent-sized building which housed the bar, still nothing compared to what he was used to. The two of you hopped down from the truck and walked through the front door, which jingled, signaling your entrance.

Bucky was greeted by the smell of old wood and stale beer, the dim atmosphere lit with old neon beer signs and fluorescent lights which hung over the pool tables. You looked back at Bucky as you crossed the threshold where he held the door for you.

“Hey, all I’m saying is, I bet you wouldn’t last a week in my world the way I did in yours.”

You rolled your eyes as you sauntered up to the bar, taking a seat at the corner, Bucky next to you, and a few more empty seats to the other side of him that would hopefully stay that way until Curtis came. As the two of you had walked up to the bar, you had seen a bunch of girls groups whose heads turned, seeing the stranger that was Bucky make his way across the floor. Why couldn’t he be ugly? And why did you let him wear that hat? Bucky didn’t even notice. His eyes were only on you, besides his trained peripheral vision catching the eyes of men whose heads turned towards, doing the same.

“Oh please, Bucket, you hardly made it through this week. I’ve never seen anyone cut their finger on wheat before. How did you even do that? You were literally up on the tractor… wheat should not have been anywhere near your hands, yet you came to me with several paper cut-looking marks. And what do you even do all day? Your hands have calluses but a totally different kind. You can hardly toss a hay bale a story high into the barn loft. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for me to just sit at a desk, bark orders, and sign paperwork all day.”

Bucky’s mouth gaped open as he feigned offense and put his hand on his chest.

You flashed a fleeting smile at him in satisfaction as you waved down the

bartender ordering two shots of whiskey and two beers.

“Now just because that’s all you’ve seen me do for work, doesn’t mean that’s all there is to it.”

“Oh really? Please, Bucket, then be my guest…indulge me.”

“Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you, so take that as one of the common requisites.”

He smirked at you, obviously more comfortable in this bar environment before your phone dinged and it was a message from Curtis.

Hey Y/N. So sorry, something came up at the shop. Rain check?

Yeah, no problem. Hope all is good, see you tomorrow?

Yep! Ty

“Well, looks like Curty boi isn’t joining us, so it’s just you and me, Bucko”

At that moment, the bartender set down the drinks in front of you and you and Bucky took a shot together, ordering an appetizer sampler platter to go with your drinks.

As the two of you nursed your beers, you joked more about Bucky’s farm mishaps and talked about all the men you had turned down from Bucky’s organization to get him out here.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t know how you turned down both Sam and Steve. I’m hardly immune to their charms some days”

You laughed and threw your head back. “It’s not easy. They’ve both got these puppy dog eyes they make when I say ‘no’ to them, but they seemed pretty satisfied with the fact I wanted to see you in person.”

“And why exactly was that? You never quite said”

“Well, at first, it started as a way to delay the deal, but then I realized, if I’m going to be making some major changes to somewhere I consider a sanctuary, I wanna make sure it’s with the right partner” you nudged him with your elbow playfully and Bucky gave you a small grin. “But honestly, if I’m going to do something these days, I wanna do it at the source. I hate hearing important news from third parties, I mean, you’ve seen how I do business. It’s all me at the end of the day. Sure, Curtis helps out, but otherwise, it’s better to deal with things on my own and a few trusted people” you finished that statement breathless from your heated ramble. This didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky at all. Where did that come from? At first, to him, you were just another bug to be squashed in order to get more control over his industry, but did he care now? Did he truly care about what was upsetting you? What caused that hurt you were obviously tampering down? Does this have to do with Jakey?

Bucky hadn’t realized he said that last part out loud until you responded.

“No! Well, maybe? Like, sort of?”

“Can I ask? Can I ask what happened there? Only if you want to share”

“Um… yeah, sure, I guess. You’ve embarrassed yourself enough this week so I think you’ve earned this a little bit.”

You took a deep breath and began. “Jake and I grew up together. We met in kindergarten in school and were instantly close. We were the only two gifted kids in class, so the teacher sent us to the side for extra lessons while the rest of the class learned with her. From that point on, we were inseparable. Two smart little twerps who took on the world together, but our lives were so different. In middle school, I started to take on more responsibility on the farm and he started getting into computers, but we’d still see each other. In high school we started officially dating, and I was so happy to be with someone who I felt like intellectually got me. I think it was the same way for him, too. He’d crack such nerdy jokes, and no one got them but me”

You smiled nostalgically at the memory. “When our senior year came along and my uncle wasn’t doing that well, I applied to more local schools, but he didn’t. We had always talked about going off to college and living together, but he wanted that life to be far away from here, and I had obligations. I got into the local college on a full ride for agriculture and civil engineering, and he decided he’d rather go to MIT for computer science. I asked if he’d be willing to stay since he got into college around here, too, but he said he wanted to be around people who were ‘more like-minded to him.’ As if we hadn’t been the only ones who had understood each other for over a decade.”

Bucky gave you a sullen look as your head fell and you looked down at your hands. He signaled to the bartender for a water and two more rounds of shots.

“I just, I just didn’t understand how he could act like that after so long. So I asked him when he was leaving so I could see him off. We were still friends, after all, but he left without a word. When I saw him again over Christmas break that winter, I felt like he had turned into some overweening, highfalutin, jerkwad. I didn’t really know him anymore, and I had enough to focus on already, so I just kinda stopped talking to him. As you could see today, his mom still comes around, but it’s not really the same. I don’t think she ever really truly saw the way he changed, she’s too caught up in having a son who lives in Silicon Valley now, but apparently he still asks for stuff from the farmers markets.” You shrugged and thanked the bartender for the shots, pounding all four before you excused yourself to the restroom, leaving Bucky to sit there shocked.

He had known where you went to college and how smart you are, but things like what happened with Jake don’t show up on paper. However he clocked you before, you were even stronger than that, because despite how you were hurt, you still wore your heart in your sleeve and showed compassion to everyone around.

You washed your face and looked in the mirror. Sure, that experience with Jake sucked, but it’s been years and you were over it now. Didn’t mean it was fun to relive it all. You decided to go into one of the stalls, the alcohol already kicking in and making you have to pee. You sat down and that’s when you saw it: blood. So that’s the reason for the waterworks all day today. That’s why you felt so tired and couldn’t help tearing up at the slightest things. Luckily the girl in the stall next to you had some products. You cleaned up and washed your hands, forcing a smile in the mirror until it became real, honestly relieved at having a reason for your out-of-character behavior. You headed back out to Bucky in a much more chipper mood and he looked up at you with a quirked brow. He figured you’d taken the time you needed. He was appreciative of you being so open with him, and wasn’t going to question the switch-up since he was just so happy to see you being yourself again after a long day.

“Up for a game of pool, cowboy?”

“Oh, you’re signing up to lose, Honeybee”

“Ok, ok, best four out of seven” Bucky whined as you giggled, whiskey shots catching up to you as you held another beer bottle in your hand. Bucky was hardly affected, he essentially rocked this much alcohol in his system by noon on a daily basis. Just then, his phone rang, and he motioned to show you it was Steve. You gave him a thumbs up and started to rack the balls to set up for the next game.

You watched Bucky walk out the door as you felt a presence looming behind you. You turned around and stood up, eyes tracing up a body dressed in brown hues until you reached a set of blue eyes shaded by a cowboy hat brim.

“Oh, howdy, can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. Can I get you a drink? Two whiskey sours” the stranger yelled over to the bar.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“My name’s Cole, Cole Turner. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

He was handsome, there was no denying that, but something seemed off. You plastered your best fake smile on your face. You didn’t need a confrontation tonight, not in your favorite dress. You didn’t want to taint the memory of it because of some rando. Wait. Was he a rando? Where have you heard the name ‘Turner’ before? Before you could continue your train of thought, a waiter came over with your drinks. They were very sweet compared to what you’d had all night, just like his demeanor, which seemed like a thin veil over the surface. You tried to channel your drink’s energy into your words to sweetly reply until you could properly remember who he was through your alcohol-fogged mind.

“Oh, I’m not here alone. I’m here with a friend”

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I don’t see anyone around. You up for a game?”

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he grabbed a pool cue and made a move to break. After that, he was keeping a little too close to you constantly. You did your best to stay kind, but must’ve been sending the wrong signals as he asked you “You wanna get out of here? I’ve got a hotel room down the road.”

In an attempt to change the subject you asked “Oh, so you’re not from around here? What are you doing in town?” Looking towards the door hoping Bucky would be done with his update any minute now.

“Ah, I used to live around here. My family owns a string of dairy farms. I’m here to try and convince these small-town farmers to give up the land.”

Your eyes went wide. Luckily you were facing away from him. He was that Cole Turner. The one whose family ran a packaged beverage empire and prided themselves on squashing the little guy. You were lucky he didn’t seem to recognize you yet, as the last remaining competitor in town. The one he had probably come in to squash. Just then, lost in thought, you felt a hand snake around your waist and you flinched.

“Relax, Honeybee, it’s just me” Bucky whispered in your ear. Your shoulders visibly relaxed as you turned around and threw your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. You pulled away, but not enough for Bucky’s hand to leave your waist, and looked between the two men, grabbing Bucky’s hat and placing it on your head immediately.

“Uh, James, this is Cole. He’s visiting town.”

Bucky reached out his hand Cole shook it. Cole took a large step back after, respecting the hat on your head, and, was he intimidated by Bucky’s stature? Sensing your discomfort, Bucky spoke up. “Nice to meet you. Shame we’re heading out now.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand, not looking back, and headed straight to the door as quickly as your numb, wobbly legs would take you. Once you were met by the cool, crisp night air, you sighed in relief and rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Thank you for helping me get out of there”

He shuddered at your proximity and the comfort you felt in this type of contact. It felt natural and he never wanted it to stop. With a soft smile and a glance at the top of the hat, he said, “No problem, Honeybee. Let’s get home.”

He helped you get up into the cab of the truck, sliding you across the bench seat before he got in and started it up.

“So what was the deal with the hat? And that guy?”

You yawned and stretched, settling in against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Uh, when a girl takes a guy’s hat and puts it on her head, it means she’s going home with him. And don’t worry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted that guy to get off my back. We can talk more about that later.”

You wiggled to get more comfortable, your hand still in Bucky’s as he used the other to steer the truck down the old country roads. Your eyes fluttered shut as you fell asleep on him. His eyes flickered between you and the road in the headlights ahead. He luckily had a good sense of direction and was able to remember how to get home from your instructions earlier.

When he pulled into your gravel driveway, your were sound asleep, softly snoring, drool having dripped onto his Henley, but he didn’t mind at all. He lifted you out of the truck and carried you up the steps, taking off your boots before tucking you into bed for the night.

Next >

Bonus A/N: so where I’m from, “Turner’s” really is a beverage empire and they make really good products. I just figured I can’t make a farm AU without putting Cole in it, no matter how inaccurate to character.

Series taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

[piratefishmama]

Fake it till you Make it | Part 20

So now, he was sat in a car, with a rich older man.

To some little queer boys, this would be a dream come true, especially since the older man wasn’t half bad in terms of looks, that all American square jaw, strong nose, the works. Plus… rich.

But this wasn’t a rich older man whisking him away, no, this was Steve Harrington’s regularly absent father taking him grocery shopping.

It’d been a wild day.

“So…” Eddie didn’t do well with silence. Silence never sat right with him. Had to fill it somehow, be it with silly noises, random singing, or conversation with any person in his vicinity. “They uhm, they do that often?”

“It’s a family thing, I think we’re all as bad as each other.” At least he was self-aware, the eldest Harrington still watching the road as they drove through the small town, he knew where he was going though, each turn done as if he’d driven the route enough to do it blindfolded. “Lynda’s a lawyer so, that should explain that” loved being right, it was her job to be right, even if she was actually wrong, she had to make out like she was right and she did it well. “I’m a middle child” explained both everything and nothing at all, “and Steven… I think he got a little bit of both of us. I’d have thought you’d be used to that though, since you’re dating him.”

“Ah-haha, I mean… don’t get me wrong, I’ve always known about Steve’s uhm… how to phrase this… mean girl streak?” John snorted a little laugh, emboldened, Eddie continued, “he’s like everyone’s disappointed mother, always with the little—” Eddie shifted in his seat, just about managing to put his hands on his hips and cock them weirdly in place “pose that he does when he’s oh so very disappointed in you. I used to thrive on it back in high school, whenever he’d catch Tommy H or the other basketball goons bullying the kids, he’d just stand there like he’d caught his kids with their hands in the cookie jar, an they’d actually just… cower, like he could actually do anything to them. It was the funniest shit I’d ever seen.”

It'd actually been quite the surprise when that’d happened the first time, it didn’t happen often, Steve had been a douchebag, not the ‘shove your head in a toilet’ kind of douchebag, or the ‘shove Gareth in a locker’ kind of douchebag.

No, he was the mega bitch douchebag who could flash a smile and drop every set of panties in his immediate vicinity, he was the douchebag who KNEW he could do that. Who carried himself high with the knowledge, lording it over everyone without… ever actually lording it, it was a presence kind of thing. An attitude.

And maybe, occasionally, he’d have been the douchebag who didn’t really see anyone unless he wanted to see them, didnt really pay any attention to those not on his radar, those not in his friend group, which led to many an accidental shoulder check, which had in turn led to Eddie’s own personal little vendetta because he’d lost one of his prized mini figs to the underside of the Hawkins High trophy case when Steve had walked by a little too close and shoved him just hard enough to send Eddie’s shit flying.

Had just kept walking as if he hadn’t even seen him. Asshole.

It was only when he’d first been seen hanging around Wheeler that his personality had shifted toward something reasonably human. Thanks Wheeler, the sacrifice of your time and patience hath created a god among men.

“So he was never… bad then?”

“Nah” no sense bad mouthing the boyfriend, that wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Real Prince Charming in a perfectly pressed polo shirt. He’s amazing, sir… you have nothing to worry about with Steve, he’s… one in a million.” Now anyway.

“Good. Good.” And then he fell silent, the quiet stretch lasting nearly five minutes with only the faint music playing on low volume from the radio to fill that silence, until the eldest Harrington pulled the car into a quiet carpark, and parked. “Here we are!” Oh thank Christ.

“We can't keep doing this.” Steve was the first one to speak up during their mutual living room silent treatment, finally looking at this mother after nearly an hour of watching a gentle snowfall that’d started outside. He hoped it wouldn't get heavier before Eddie got back.

“I have no idea what you—”

“Mom.” Steve cut her off, his eyes sharp and tone firm. “We can’t keep doing this. This bickering, this who’s right who’s wrong shit, we’ve gotta stop, at least here.” If not for their own sanity, but for the image he was giving Eddie of his family life.

Of what he might possibly maybe be getting himself into if Steve could actually swing a real relationship by the end of the week. The chances of him saying yes were already pretty farfetched, but if Steve’s parents were their worst selves…

Why would Eddie want to subject himself to that long term?

She paused, expression unreadable, something she’d mastered years ago for the court room, then she sighed. “I know, Steven.” She sighed heavily “Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown up now, that you can argue right back and actually stand your ground.” It only felt like yesterday when he was tugging uncomfortably at the little bowtie they used to make him wear for special occasions, all dressed up looking up at them with those big hazel eyes of his. His childhood only felt like yesterday. “I miss when you were cute and just did as you were told” she sniffled. Back when his parents had been there regularly before their duties had pulled them away. Before distance had strained them and they missed everything. Steve rolled his eyes but said nothing as his mother continued “Anyway, i agree. I think I’d prefer it if Eddie didn’t go away from this trip thinking John to be the most mature of us.”

“God, could you imagine?” Steve shook his head to free himself of the truly harrowing thought, allowing the subject to change. “I really like him, Mom... I didn’t expect to at first, not enough to want something long term with him anyway...” He’d thought it’d be easy to just pretend with him at first, but Eddie just had this... thing about him, Steve didn’t really know how to explain it, he just felt like home. Maybe it should have been alarming as to how fast that’d happened but... Steve had always rushed into things, funnily enough he didn’t think Eddie minded. “So I’d really like it if he liked all of us by the end of this, an if he only likes Dad cause of our bullshit, I think I might just disown the both of you.” The last part said in jest but... god he’d never let it go.

He’d lockjaw it until the end of time, would take it out on special occasions and shake it in their faces like look what you did. Look at what you cost me.

“Honestly, sweetheart I think I’d disown myself.” Lynda laughed, the air finally lightening up a little between them. “Here, how about we go see if the maintenance men pilfered the wine cellar? I’m positive Mags was hiding a damn good red down there among the cabernet that I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want to go to waste...”

“Well... we probably should check it... just in case, y’know? For security reasons.” Not that he actually doubted the integrity of the maintenance crew, they’d been employees for years, they’d known his grandparents, had worked for them in their later years when time had started to catch up to them, and a steady gig passing through generations wasn’t something to scoff at.

“Security, absolutely.” But then, the contents of the wine cellar alone was probably worth more than the actual house, so… better double check.

For security reasons.

Part 22

[aihoshiino]

chapter 151 thoughts

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 8

Aqua Hoshigan Status: Black

Kana enjoyers continue to eat good in this new arc, as 151 very clearly parallels what's considered one of the more iconic AquKana chapters from the first half of the manga with a bit of role reversal in the mix. 'Reversal' is sort of the keyword for this chapter for a handful of reasons but we'll get into that when it's relevant.

the usual shout out to mengo for Peak Faces this chapter. my faves were kana's blushy face as she takes off her glasses and aqua covering his blush with his baseball glove… it does NOT get cuter than that.

It's pretty cathartic to see Kana get a similar TV spotlight to BH!Ruby, where she's centered in B-Komachi's success and Ruby is sort of just in the background lol. That said… kinda of hate that OnK is continuing to frame the ShimaD shit!!! I have a lot of complicated feelings about it but I will say that overall, it's pretty fucked that the story made all those correct assertions about sexual harassment in the entertainment industry and how women and young girls specifically are pressured to kowtow to men to retain their place in the industry and then like… not? link any of this?? to what happened to Kana??? Weird and bad!!!!

on the plus side. megarima and maskua <3

It feels like a good step for Kana to confidently assert that they are, in fact, on a date and their shared visible embarrassment is pretty cute. This is what I meant when I said this chapter was a bit of a reversal of chapter 30, which Aqua even calls explicit attention to - running from school to play catch vs running to school. It works well, imo, as a sort of marker of both change and consistency for both of these characters, showing us how far they've come… but at the same time, how much has managed to stay the same. This return to the early AQKN dynamic is really nice… their moment to moment rapport is the one I enjoy most in the series so even though it's definitely jarring to whiplash back to it after the Movie Arc… idk!! I am still enjoying it all the same.

aqua calling her out on it being a baseball date was really funny btw

And their talk about dreams is… Very Shrimptresting. I keep waffling back and forth on what to take from it, because hypothetically I think it's really interesting but whether or not I really end up liking it is going to depend on how things are handled with Aqua going forward…! IDK, this is the obvious pitfall of analyzing the story like this week to week,

I guess all I'll say now is that this falls in line with how I was reading last chapter's framing of Gorou -> Aqua, where Aqua's inheritance of that identity is just that - an inheritance and it's up to him what he chooses to do with that legacy. He can decide for himself what parts of it he wants to take with him into the future and what he chooses to leave behind.

That said: this is still black hoshigan Aqua. Is this just a 'dream' because it's something he wants but doesn't think he'll be able to have? Or is Aqua starting to seriously consider a future for himself past the end of his revenge quest? It was Kana who prompted him for an answer, after all, and he's already had to make a promise to her that he won't 'disappear'. Is he just lying here to put her at ease? Much to consider…….

Kana's side of this conversation is also really interesting. Kana is a person who acts out of genuine love for her craft, yes, but she's also correct that she kind of already got her assumed end goal of 'be a nationally famous actress' when she was a kid and it didn't necessarily make her happy or fulfilled. To a degree, she's been operating on momentum and desperation to cling to the industry so much of her identity was formed around. But if a 'dream' is something she just wants for herself, without her career coming into it… then what does Kana really want?

And the answer, obviously, is Aqua. With another 'oshi no ko' title drop, to boot…!

It's a little sad that even as Kana makes this tentative confession to him, she still downplays herself in favour of Memcho and Ruby but the emotional stakes she's putting on the table are very loaded. This essentially, without either girl knowing it, puts her in direct competition with Ruby who very much seems to still want to milk her sensei's Little Aqua and I don't imagine that conflict is going to go off without fireworks.

Interestingly, though, this isn't the only point on which the two are opposed here: this is what I mean when I said this chapter's keyword was 'reversal'. While Ruby insists that 'Sensei' is her oshi, Kana offers to be Aqua's oshi. This isn't the first time it's happened, either - when Kana talks about her feelings last chapter, she describes them as 本気の恋 (honki no koi), i.e, seriously, earnestly, truly in love whereas Ruby's confession uses the term ガチ恋 (gachikoi), a slang term referring to a fan who considers themselves to be legitimately in romantic love with a celebrity/idol/etc - and specifically says she's gachikoi for Sensei. Gachikoi is also how the first generation of B-Komachi are described in both Viewpoint B and 45510 in the original Japanese text. On just about all fronts, these two are bound to clash going into the final arc of the story and I'm tentatively interested to see where it goes.

No break next week!

[joelsmochi]

closer

rating: E 18+ pairing: tortured artist!Joel x black!girly!f!reader summary: Joel hits a creative block with a mural, leading him down a road of discovery and intimacy in ways he's never felt before. warnings: au/no outbreak, unspecified drug use + marijuana use, unprotected piv, sex while under the influence, consenting adults!!! age is not specified but we can assume joel is mid 40s, brief mentions of death + abusive relationships, ooc!Joel (he is not the same person he was 1/2 pill ago…), third person pov but most of it is from joel’s perspective, very fluffy sex they may have said i love you wc: 5.3k a/n: Happy New Year everybody! This was inspired by Closer by Goapele and Prisoner by The Weeknd & Lana Del Rey plus I was thinking too hard about the time I ate an edible that had too much THC for me to handle and I produced whatever this is. Hopefully tortured artist!Joel hasn’t happened yet because I felt creative with this one…

masterlist

ᝰ

The frayed paintbrush relentlessly slapped against the concrete wall, coating the discolored brick in thick layers of different browns, reds, and whites. Opaque smoke blurred his vision, yet he only let it inspire the strokes of his hand, creating a beautiful image that wasn’t clear to him yet.

Before he knew it, the sun had set; he sat on his hard leather sofa, massaging the twinge that had settled into his wrist while his face wore a disappointed scowl. He was displeased with his progress, the blob that was already half dry on the wall of his loft.

A rumble snuck into his stomach, forcing him to stand up and absentmindedly walk into the kitchen area. However, his disappointment grew when he opened the fridge to find nothing suitable for a proper meal. As he glared at the half-eaten yogurt and scarce 24-pack of beer, he decided to go and get Chinese food.

He lit up a cigarillo to accompany his walk around the block and across the street, tossing whatever was left into a sewer drain just in time for him to open the door to the restaurant.

“Miller,” a worker greeted with a smile, “your usual?”

Unknown to him, the smell of his cigar caught the attention of a waiting customer. She waited until he was done chatting with the employee to ask, “Cream?”

He did a double take, unsure if she was talking to him at first. She was tall, maybe five foot nine or five foot ten, with big hair and brown skin, and dressed in something far too lovely for her to be eating Chinese for dinner.

“I’m sorry?”

“You smell like cream-flavored cigars,” she said, sounding amused.

He felt unsure of how to respond, not wanting to seem rude, watching her diamond earrings gleam from the low yellow lighting. He paid for his food and answered. “Yeah, just had one.”

“Black and mild or swisher?”

“Blacks,” he answered, growing a little uneasy from the stranger questioning him despite the mundane topic. 

“My favorite,” she boasted, earning another look from him after he put his change in the tip jar. “They’re much smoother.”

The man didn’t respond, only offering a tight smile in return. The pair stood a few feet apart silently, listening to people chattering and utensils clanking behind the counter as they waited.

She smelled like expensive brown sugar perfume and cocoa butter, a sickly sweet combination that tickled his sense of smell. Her scent was reminiscent of a freshly baked cookie a kid couldn’t wait to dive into. She was dressed in a lovely skirt and a prissy top paired with a mix of gold and silver rings and necklaces and bracelets — two colors he usually hated paired together, but somehow, she made it blend beautifully.

Her makeup was soft, or so it seemed. It wasn’t too heavy, but her eyebrows were bold, as was the line drawn around her vermilion border. He noticed she blinked slowly but held her eyes wide as if she anticipated something to happen.

The employee’s voice brought the two adults out of their daydreams.

“Beef and broccoli and chow mein?” They asked.

The artist waited kindly for the woman to grab her bagged styrofoam container before reaching for his own; he walked a few feet behind her, suddenly feeling bad for his cold demeanor earlier once they were outside.

“You want one?” He called after her before she got too far away; she turned around with a frown, confused at his offering.

He reached into his pocket and held up a couple of fresh cigars. She grinned, secretly desperate for a smoke. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she strutted back towards him. She strutted like a cat, one leg crossing the other.

She allowed the man with the messy hair the privilege of placing the stick between her plump lips, keeping her eyes on his as he watched where he was lighting.

She took a long drag, waiting for him to get his cigarette lit before asking, “What’s your name?”

His eyebrow cocked up, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was amused. But he answered anyway.

“Joel.” He sharply inhaled; she responded with her name and a smile, thick smoke spilling out from the spaces between her teeth as she gently exhaled. “You from around here?”

“No,” she said, “I like to travel. See new places. Find new things… Right now, I’m fixated on museums—art museums precisely.”

That piqued his interest. “Art? What kind of art d'you like?”

“Any art that speaks to me.”

Joel smirked at her answer as if it were funny. “Oh yeah? What speaks to you?”

Instead of her usual quick response, she pondered momentarily, trying to locate proper words to avoid rambling. “Suffering or excitement.”

He could only narrow his eyes at the vague response, but she spoke again before he could ask for an elaboration.

“You must like art,” she guessed correctly.

“I’m uh…” And there’s a long pause; the rhetorical shame of confessing what his job was had risen, but for what purpose? After a short internal debate, he finally admitted, “I’m an artist myself.”

Her eyes widened with excitement, which Joel found adorable. She asked him various questions: what kind of art he created, how long he’d been painting, his favorite creations…

He admired her interest in the subject and how she listened carefully and intently, clearly trying to understand as much as possible about him.

“How do you stay inspired all the time?”

Shit.

Joel’s mind ran blank for a few seconds, and he watched the woman’s face contort into confusion. She worried she’d brought up an unhealed wound and persisted that he didn’t need to answer.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Joel assured, “I’ve honestly been at a block lately…”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. “Do you do anything to help get over that?”

He sucked on his teeth as he thought of an appropriate answer, yet nothing came to mind. He couldn’t lie even if he wanted to. “Just wait for it to pass.”

“…Could... Could I see your art?”

For the first time, she seemed to be shy. Her teeth grimaced, and eyebrows crooked out of fear of rejection, but Joel was sure he was far more nervous than she was.

"Uh, sure..." He said hesitantly. "What I have at home is nothing special, but-"

"I'm sure it's beautiful," she interrupted. "I'm free right now if that works."

ᝰ

This was unlike him: inviting a girl he'd just met into his home. She had something that enamored him. What was it, he wondered with each passing minute, was it her beauty or curiosity? Was it the way she smiled or how sweet her voice sounded? He couldn't ponder for much longer as she had already begun complimenting his home.

"A loft," she said while taking in the brick walls of his home that were littered with several paintings that all seemed to be works in progress. "It's cozy." Joel watched as her painted nails gently trailed over the armrest of his stiff couch just before she reached up to feel a painting of what seemed to be a little girl.

His staring made the woman laugh, and while he could admit he was being a bit precarious, he just wanted to ensure she wouldn't mishandle that particular piece. She didn't. She just reached to stroke the texture meant to resemble the girl's curly hair; she touched it for only a moment before pulling away and turning around.

After realizing the painting was sacred to him, she asked, "Is that someone you know?"

His shoulders and chest rose as he sucked in a melancholic breath, and she couldn't ignore the sadness that swarmed his eyes.

The woman was satisfied with no answer and moved on quickly. "May I eat with you?"

Joel gave her a stiff nod, his thoughts still filled with the traumatic memories of the girl in the photo.

They sat quietly and slowly ate their food, the lack of heat from their containers making the meal invaluable. The silence comforted him as it felt much different than the cold silence he was used to. No. Her silence was warm and comforting... Like a mother caring for a sick or sad or sleeping child. She didn't offer any awkward glances or stiff smiles. She didn't hide her joy or her optimism despite his distant demeanor.

Her eyes weren't as big as they were just an hour ago. Perhaps the food made her sleepy, he thought.

"Where ya from?" He figured he should at least be a good host.

"Rockport. It's a small town in Massachusetts. You?"

"Born and raised here," he answered.

"Really?" She squinted at him while poking at broccoli with a fork. "Never wanted to leave?"

Shrugging, he said, "Thought about leaving, never needed to."

"Is that painting supposed to be the same girl?"

She pointed to the spontaneous mural partly done on the big red wall opposite to them. He looked at it, forming different opinions and thoughts on his work.

"No. Not entirely sure what that one is yet," he grunted. "Needed to paint something, but I can't quite figure it out yet."

"You should do a self-portrait," she suggested with a wide grin. "I'd love to see how you see yourself."

"Nah, if I did that, it'd just be a college-ruled notebook with a bunch'a scribbles in it."

She chuckled at his pessimism, gaining a confused look from him. "So? Maybe someone would see something between the scribbles."

"I don't like painting myself," he said firmly.

She couldn't care less about his seriousness; she saw his need for perfection and keeping busy with work. Seeing the distress on the average person's face wasn't unfamiliar to her; all she wanted to do was take it away.

"Your art is lovely, Joel," she spoke truthfully, "For what it's worth, I think you'd paint yourself beautifully."

He chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds, taking in her warm smile and gentle words.

"You're very kind," he admitted, "thank you."

The temptress walked and stood in front of the mural to admire the thick blobs of paint that were still tacky. She saw the vision but just as quickly saw the block.

"You seriously do nothing to help the creative blocks?"

With a slight frown, he shook his head to confirm. "Just try working on something else until I find my rhythm again."

"Why not? Why not music or movies or going outside for more than Chinese on a Thursday evening?"

Feeling a bit antagonized, Joel scowled at her. "I paint what's in my head, not around me."

"Maybe that's the problem." She sat close to him on the floor and nudged his shoulder with hers. "Maybe you've painted all you know, and you're stuck right now because there's nothing new inside that pretty little head a'yours."

"Flattery only gets you so far, sweetheart."

"It got me in your apartment, did it not?"

His scowl grew, and he felt no need to hide his annoyance from her.

"Just tryna help," she smirked.

"I don't need your help."

"Clearly not," she simpered; she pulled a bag of ground weed from her purse and held it up for him to see. "Maybe you need Mary's help."

"You're fucking joking."

"It helps me," she said softly. "When I don't smoke, I'm a very anxious and shy person."

Joel's eyes fell to her hands, which were beginning to work the weed into a paper very carefully, watching her roll it precisely. "Really?" He asked incredulously.

"Mock me all you want, Joel, but I must say that even a couple of hits can make you feel ten times better."

"Not interested," he quipped.

"Well... If weed isn't your speed, then maybe..." She licked the paper shut and placed it on the table, then reached in her purse again for a bag containing different colored pills. "...ecstasy would be more fitting."

"You expect me to take drugs from a stranger?" He asked.

She leaned her chin on his shoulder and whispered, "I'm no stranger, Joel. I'm your inspiration."

He found himself laughing at her choice of words, not paying her any mind as she climbed into his lap. She placed a pill between the rows of her teeth and bit down to break it in half, offering him whichever half was smaller.

"You don't have to if you really don't want to... But it will help."

Her voice was so enticing that Joel was sure he was already high from the affection she persisted in giving him.

"Help me paint?" He asked, still not entirely convinced.

"Help you create."

Joel thought about it: he had nothing left in his life to live for other than his talent for painting, and he even felt that it was being wasted on unproductive days and constant disappointments.

For months, all he wanted was to create one last masterpiece and to feel proud of it. If all it took was to give in to some strange form of peer pressure, then that's just what needed to be done.

Almost an hour later, however, his worries about art were set aside.

With his head lying in the pretty woman's lap, he tried remembering why he had been so angry before. He let her stroke the curly hairs on his head and trace his lips over and over again.

"You're doing good," she cooed gently.

"You're very, um," he swallowed between his heavy breaths, "nurturing."

He noticed the woman's eyebrow shift upwards, and an amused hum left her mouth. "Hm. No one's ever said that before."

"Really?" Joel began to realize how dry his throat became. "Well, it's a compliment."

"Thank you," she giggled. "Thirsty?"

"Mmhm," he moaned.

Reaching over to grab the water bottle on the floor, she took a long sip as she felt parched before holding his head up to help him drink some. He felt her sticky lip gloss around the rim and found himself latching even harder onto the plastic container.

She let him drink as much as he needed before closing the bottle and helping him stand up, urging him to paint something.

He felt a wave of heat envelope his body, the hairs along his arms and neck dancing along his skin. He wanted to laugh, but nothing was funny, so he tried to hold it in. He followed her around the room and watched the ends of her hair bend and curl around her arms. She opened a few paint bottles, squeezing some onto his stained palette and holding the brush out for him. She couldn't help but laugh at the elation in his wide eyes; he was definitely in a much better mood than before.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, not bothering with the meaningless utterance of words and just giving into his need to kiss her. She wasn't surprised by the gesture, inviting his tongue into her mouth for more. She tasted the cigar on his breath and lips, ignoring how bitter it seemed.

The paintbrush smeared itself against Joel's elbow, causing him to jolt back in shock, only to laugh when he realized the purple-coated paintbrush was bending on its own. He took it from her hand and approached the wall, immediately getting to work.

While he worked and ranted about how the piece was "basically painting itself," she undressed slowly while prancing around the room and humming to some tune that found its way into her head. Joel saw the colors blend and separate, waiting for the wall to respond with where his next brush stroke should be.

The woman found herself looking at that painting of the little girl again. She was unable to quiet her curiosity.

"Is she your daughter?"

Her voice broke the string tying him to his work, and he stumbled around a bit before turning around and facing her with an asking face. He let his tools go and followed the sound of the siren, looking deeply into her wide eyes.

"She was my daughter," he admitted freely, something he refused to do as often as possible.

"Where is she?"

He noted how concerned she seemed and took it as an invitation to confide in her.

“She uh… She died ‘bout ten years ago.”

Joel felt her fuzzy arms weave around him, encompassing him with a sense of comfort. It was the first time he could talk about the tragedy without bursting into tears. Her lips pressed warm kisses into his forehead and temples as she attempted to bathe him in consolation.

He removed his head from the crook of her neck to look at her face. Her eyes, although appearing a bit lopsided, were still wide and curious, like she was still waiting for something. He tried to focus on just her, but all he wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to pai-

A shriek broke him out of his trance: the woman seemed surprised about the splatter of paint that got on her bare chest and arms. Joel blinked rapidly and tried to decipher what had happened between talking about his daughter and... Now.

Had time managed to escape him? Was he too out of it to realize that? And who put on the jazz music?

The brown liquid dripped down her body and hid her nipples; he found the motion fascinating. How happy she seemed to be coated in the cold dispense helped him feel more at ease and join in laughing with her. Her hair, frizzier than before, somehow gave the illusion that she was underwater. It just flowed so freely.

"You are a mermaid in the most beautiful depths of the sea," Joel shouted dramatically.

"Wh-what?" She giggled before smearing a finger-lengths of paint onto his forehead.

His hand absentmindedly poked the paintbrush into her collarbone, tickling her in the process. "You are free... And kind... Did you turn the music on?"

And she's giggling again. God, he couldn't get enough of that sound. She was a siren, manipulating him with her songs of joy and laughter.

"You told me to," she answered; only Joel took a few minutes to process it. She covered her hand in yellow paint, cradled his cheek, and let the print of her hand stick to his face as if she were marking her territory. "I'm glad I met you tonight, Joel," she said quietly.

Instinctively, he beckoned for her to close the space between them. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

Her arms snaked around his neck as she looked at his aura and vented. "I was supposed to go on a date tonight with my ex-boyfriend. He wasn't the greatest guy. Abusive. Angry. But my parents love him, and they say he's changed, so... I wanted to try again."

Joel's drug-induced nosiness got the better of him. "Why didn't you?"

She sighed, a smirk daring to grow on her face. "I wanted to make him feel stupid."

He wrapped his arms around her waist at her wise words, holding her close as if she would blow away had he exhaled too hard.

"M'glad I met you too," he admitted. "Did I spill paint on you?"

"Just a bit, but it was my fault. You were in a daze," she admitted bashfully.

The pair took a few minutes to look at each other, feel their spirits, and soak up the serenity between the small gap in their lips.

"Do you wanna fuck?"

Those words would have left Joel speechless in any other scenario at any other time on any other day. But he was high out of his fucking mind, and once his brain had fully processed her question, he answered with a short and sweet "Yes."

He waited patiently as the vixen undressed him, and she took her precious time; her knuckles grazing the wiry hair along his pelvis sent hot shivers across his abdomen before his jeans pooled around his ankles. Lifting his arms to aid in the removal of his shirt, he flinched and giggled childishly when she placed a kiss or two along his collarbone.

She gasped at the nails digging into her sides, his hands begging for more because his voice was too weak to. The desperation grew in his eyes, and he wanted to feel close to her. To feel all of her depths and shallows and curves and grooves. Her essence rendered him helpless. The smell of her perfume was even more sickly than he recalled, but all the much more sweet.

Their bodies danced onto the floor, bending and curling around each other like snakes.

"I was always afraid of this," he spoke as she worked her hand around him, not that he needed it. "Feeling close with someone. After my last... You know."

She smiled at his words, telling him with her eyes: I know.

"I was so scared to feel close to someone..." She admitted. "After him, I wanted to be left alone. Untouched."

"What changed that- oh, fuck," Joel moaned, feeling her wetness encapsulate him.

"Someone found me, ha-ah, hmm... And took care a'me, just like I'm doing for you."

Joel clawed at her back, reaching for her hair, but his arms were too heavy, with the quick rushes of euphoria soaring through his veins. Her moans and pretty little sounds coaxing him into blindness. He couldn't see her face, covered in the universe of her bangs littered with stars and planets, until she leveled her happy face with his. The shimmer in her glossy eyes let him know she enjoyed this just as much as him.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, ever s-seen," he moaned.

Finally able to lift his arms, he used them to hold her face gently. He admired her refreshing beauty. She moaned something about how sweet he was, though it went unregistered to him.

All he could feel was her thighs flexing against his hips every time she rode down, and he felt his cock brush that sensitive sponge deep inside of her. Her hands pressed painfully into his ribcage, but he didn't mind. He loved that she needed him so much that it hurt.

She laid her body down on his chest, bringing her lips to his chin; he whimpered at the softness of her lips, his warm breath hitting her nose and making her body shudder. His mouth parted to stick his tongue out for her to lick and suck, which she did graciously.

He never knew his tongue could feel so ticklish or that having it licked would feel so damn good. It made his cock throb against her walls, forcing a moan out of the both of them. Her nails scratched his scalp tenderly, hips rocking back and forth, creating the perfect rhythm.

Her breasts dragged against the hairs on his chest, making some of the dried brown paint flake onto him; her nippled peaked, vulnerable from the friction.

Joel wrapped his forearms around the base of her spine and rolled over as carefully as his intoxicated body would allow. With hair splayed out, she looked so ethereal, like a walking painting herself.

Then, he noticed a bucket of paint sitting nearby and dipped two of his long fingers inside, dragging the white liquid down the valley of her breasts until he reached the peak of her belly. He noticed how her body reacted: all of the little shakes and shudders signs of appreciation made his heart swell.

His hand reached around her hip to grip her ass as he rested his body weight on her and enveloped her in more kisses. His hips rocked gently and slowly, careful not to hurt her. He wanted to feel her cum and hear her beg him to keep going.

To her, it felt like he pushed deeper with each thrust, begging her body to swallow him whole and allow him the grace of becoming one with her. Her eyes were so low, yet she was seeing more clearly than ever. Seeing his aura radiate off of his broad shoulders and tousled hair - it was a haze of blue and purple. But hers were shades of reds and oranges in his eyes, a fiery tyrant that bullied him with praise and adoration.

His nose tickled her chin while his lips made their way up to plant another kiss on her sweet, sweet mouth. The alcohol in her perfume singed the hairs along his face and nostrils, pilling the hairs on his arms.

"Harder, ngh- please," she murmured.

He saw her blown pupils roll gently beneath her eyelids as beads of sweat formed along her hairline. Her breathing was shallow and short. She was close.

Licking his reddened lips, he pushed her knees back until they were flush with her jawline and shifted his body weight from his knees to his toes, then changed the force of his hips without changing the rhythm.

She loved that he listened to her: harder did not mean faster, and he fucking perfected it. Almost like he knew just how hard to go.

Joel drove into her deep enough to make her cunt squelch and clench around his thick cock. He felt clumsy inside of her like he was tripping up over his own orgasm. He felt all of her ridges and curves, the smooth and the rough; everything intensified in a way that could only be described by the God he didn't believe in.

But she had him questioning that in the back of his mind. He would have believed that she was God herself if he wasn't aware of how high he was. She looked celestial, her mouth forming an 'o', and her hair sprawled around her shimmering face. Even with her mascara flaking and running slightly, she seemed so content, so pleased.

Joel's desperation to come inside of her was almost primal, instinctive... If her nails weren't digging so sharply into his forearms, he wasn't sure whether or not he would have been able to hold back.

He didn't ease up on her throughout her orgasm. Honestly, he didn't think too much about it. He never wanted right now to end. With a sense of ecstasy coursing through his veins, he managed to turn into something he tried so hard not to be. He craved her body, her kisses.

He pulled her into his lap before resting his cheek on her breast. He inhaled the musk of her sweat deeply, cherishing the divine woman she was. She felt as beautiful as she looked. She fucked just as sweet as she smelled.

His clammy hand ran over her flexed calve as she bounced on him. Her movements were sloppy from his tight grip, not that either of them cared. She was sure not to go too high or come down too hard, allowing her pussy to drip white remnants of her orgasm onto his balls. He licked and kissed and bit her tits as a submissive thank you.

She kissed the top of his hair, strumming her fingers along his scalp. "Joel," she moaned, "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," he grunted almost instantly.

Raising his head to look back at her blissed out face, he pulled her even closer. His chin dug into her clavicle, but his neediness only made her laugh softly.

Joel's face twitched as his body proposed its orgasm, his dick throbbed roughly against her sensitive walls. She gasped, taking it as a sign to fuck him faster despite the burning in her legs. He winced at her arms weighing heavier into his collarbones but just clawed at her ass to power through the pain.

She placed a hand over his heart and pushed gently, forcing him to feel the thumping against his chest. He felt so much of his anger and pain dissipate beneath her touch, instilling love and peace in place of it.

"You're so precious," he whispered. A lovely smile rose onto her face, one that drove him crazy. He looked at her with big puppy eyes that threatened to fill with tears. She licked along her teeth and bit her bottom lip. "I love y-you..." He knew he didn't mean it and that she didn't either, but he missed being able to say those words. "Tell m- oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Tell me you love me," he pleaded. "Tell me you love me 'til I cum, baby."

"I love you, Joel.”

His eyes screwed shut, face falling into the curve of her neck.

“I love you, baby. I want you to cum for me,” she moaned, breathless from exhaustion.

His nails dug deeper into her flesh, he was clinging onto his climax as much as possible, wanting to wait long enough for it to destroy him.

“Oh, Joel, fuck!” She yelped. “I love you, I love you!”

And he broke.

His nails scratched lines up her back whilst he screamed into her chest. Her pussy throbbed against his sensitive cock from the arrival of her second orgasm, heightening his sensitivity.

A few tears shed his eyes at the closeness; Joel felt like he was falling into the Earth. He was so dizzy and confused, cornered by the affection clouding his judgment.

“I love you,” she whispered into his scalp, placing one last kiss before climbing off of his lap.

He hissed at the last stroke of her cunt but helped her lay down, using his t-shirt to prop her head up.

“I love you,” he said before kissing her head.

“You should drink some water.”

As soon as she said that, he felt the itchiness in his dry throat. He grabbed water from the table a few feet away and chugged as much as his stomach could handle.

“Will you bring me the joint and a lighter?”

Joel fulfilled her request and sat the water next to her, immediately looking back at his work in progress while she got herself situated.

A few moments passed before she spoke again. “Are you coming down?”

Confused, he looked down at her but saw that the colors weren’t so loud anymore. “Think so…”

“Take a few hits. It’ll help.”

He hesitated but sat down and did as she told him. 

“Thank you,” he said after briefly coughing and handing the joint back to her. “I think whatever that… Pill was actually helped.”

“If it wasn't the pill, it must’ve been the sex,” she teased, earning a laugh from him. She tapped his shoulder and pointed her head towards his mural.

ᝰ

A rough pounding woke Joel up from his slumber. He groaned, pressing the meat of his palm to his forehead and slowly sitting up before remembering the girl was still next to him.

He watched her sleep soundly, mouth slightly parted and a gentle snore creaking from her throat. The memories of last night flooded his mind, and while they were somewhat fuzzy, he remembered clear as day how it felt.

He felt most of his questions had been answered by something more complex than communication. It was frightening yet calming at the same time.

Her body stirring regained his focus, and he knew she must have been feeling the same tension headache as he was when she groaned before her eyes fluttered open. She squirmed from the cold air and looked up at the hungover man, smiling as she remembered the night before.

“Morning, Joel,” she said with a playful tilt.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said. “Your head hurtin’?”

“Yep,” she grunted while sitting up. “Ever been to that café on thirty-fourth street?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll take you there for some coffee and breakfast. My treat,” she told him.

Her eyes landed on the big, dull wall that had been taunting Joel for weeks, only to find it was a brightened, complete piece of art.

She admired the woman's beauty and asked him without looking away, “S’that me?”

Joel smirked and reached for his boxers, standing to put them on.

“She’s beautiful, ain’t she?” Joel kissed her head and walked away, leaving the woman alone to admire his masterpiece…

Her.

[chairofchaos]

Letters of Love: Little Bonus (3.5?)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k (much more manageable for me, and hopefully for you as well!

A/N: I am Experiencing Emotions and forgot to post this yesterday. Sorry about that. ANYWAYS. Click HERE for the Update/Plan for LoL! (Edit: This does not count as the August LoL Update since I forgot, so you’ll get more this month!)

*****

Dear Eris,

Two months is a long time to wait. How about you come for Winter Solstice? Lucien and Elain would love the company. We can make a week of it.

Helion

*****

Dear Helion,

I’m afraid I will be busy during solstice. Thank you for your invitation.

Eris Vanserra

*****

Dear Eris,

Your brother is my heir, and he says you lie. I trust him more than I do you. Come for the week. If you truly have Solstice plans, you can make your argument with me in person at your convenience, though you are most especially invited for lunch at noon.

Helion

*****

Dear Helion,

I’ll come around noon.

Eris

*****

Lucien,

I’m coming for lunch at noon. Do me a favor and be somewhere in the vicinity in case this goes poorly.

Eris

*****

Eris,

What is it you plan to do?

Lucien

*****

Lucien,

Your father is inviting me for Winter Solstice. I want to come, but I won’t without Azriel. He and I talked and agreed that perhaps Helion may be the best place to start for informing the other High Lords.

Eris

*****

Eris,

Mother save us. You aren’t serious. Are you?

Lucien

*****

Lucien,

I’m very serious. I would bring Azriel if I thought it would convince Helion. 

Eris

*****

Eris,

It’s your funeral. I’ll be ‘in the vicinity’. Bring some more of that sleeping tea you brought me last week when you come. I’m out. 

Helion is dead set on having you for Solstice, so I can’t imagine it will go poorly. He may just be a little shocked. Don’t think any of us have forgotten his comment about his ‘new fantasy’ from the High Lords’ meeting. Plus, half his determination is his insistence on inviting Mother. I won’t try to talk him out of it, and I can’t imagine you would after everything I shared with you yesterday.

Also, a warning that his current favorite read is Ms. Drake’s latest. Prepare to be inundated with questions. If you plan on seeing Elain, expect a similar line of questioning from her. She heard all about your little side conversation with Nesta the other night. Of course, she already knows who it is, she just wants to poke fun at you.

Lucien

*****

Lucien,

This is the third time this month. I’ll bring you the tea, but I really should be insisting you visit the healers. Don’t think your mate isn’t worried about you either – Azriel and I each had a letter yesterday about how ill you seemed. She’s more worried about you than anything relating to the baby.

If Helion hadn't planned on inviting Mother I would be surprised. He’s been trying to invite her to come to Day for years, though it’s usually much more casual. Tea, or lunch. Maybe he’s growing desperate. 

Thank you for the warning. That would be a jarring conversation to enter into without one. Elain can ask all she wishes.

Eris

*****

My dearest Azriel,

A report of the day, as promised. I’m holding Flora while writing, so please forgive me any smudges or awkwardly cramped words. 

Helion looked rather stern when I arrived. I think he half expected me to be there to fight him. Lucien walked in with me, and asked to stay. I’m sure Elain insisted. She seems to want to know everything. Helion looked surprised at his request, but allowed it, so we all sat in his sitting room. Lucien really does look awful. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. His hair was tossed up in some awkward knot on top of his head with pieces sticking every direction. Flora must be doing a number on his nerves.

I told Helion that I would be happy to join him, provided he could accommodate my mate. I think I shocked him enough to take him off his guard. Even Lucien laughed a little at his response. He immediately said yes and started asking the expected questions.

I waited for a pause longer than a breath to tell him it was you. His questions immediately stopped. He looked more pleased than I thought he would, even at first, and then said he would be more than happy to add anyone from Night to the invitations. All in all, I think it went well.

I told him what you said about the traditions you wanted to keep in Night, and so promised him that starting in the afternoon of Solstice Day, we would be there. He nodded, said something about you keeping your winning streak (really, what is this tradition, Azriel?) and said he would amend the party invitations to fit the obligations we all had. He’s going to invite Rhysand’s entire inner circle. 

We figured out all of the logistics, and before they could bring lunch in, Helion kicked Lucien out, telling him to go get some sleep. Once he was gone, Helion congratulated me. Truly. At one point, he actually pulled me from my chair and hugged me, patted me on the back and insisted we celebrate. 

It was a good day. I’m going to stay and help with Flora so Elain and Lucien can have some time this evening. I’ll be back for a late dinner (normal, by your habits). I love you.

Eris

*****

Entry from the Journal of Eris Vanserra:

December 19

I told Helion about Azriel today. He was pleased. Much more pleased than anyone except maybe Elain. Lucien is too nervous about Flora to care. But Helion was overjoyed.

He hugged me. He pulled me up from my chair and nearly lifted me off the ground with his hug. I didn’t know what to do. Lucien seemed to enjoy my discomfort, the little shit. He just shrugged at me when I glared at him. Damn Helion for being so ridiculously tall. And strong. I bet he could put up a good fight against Azriel.

When he kicked Lucien out, he hugged me again. He said he was proud of me. He said he was grateful I was involving my mate in my life. We talked through everything. I don’t believe Helion and I have ever spoken so bluntly before, but it was surprisingly easy to talk to him.

He asked how it all happened, and I found myself telling him about the orchard, watching Azriel fly away. It’s only been twenty-two days since the mating bond snapped. Somehow, we talked about everything that’s happened for over an hour and a half.

I told him about how kind Azriel was, how much he cared for the little things. I haven’t even found myself writing about them. I think I may need to. The small touches when he passes. The kisses he presses to my wrists when he is holding my hand before we sleep. 

I told him how much I missed him, and how often he had been gone. It was the only time Helion looked even remotely displeased. Empathy for my sorrow at my mate’s absence. The irony didn’t escape me. The rest of the time, he was smiles and joy. 

When I couldn’t share any more (really, I think I’ve shared enough for a century) I turned the focus to him. I asked him about what Lucien had explained in his letter, the rooms Helion had set apart for Mother for all those years. 

It was like watching the sun get covered by storm clouds. I really think the room darkened, as if the sun stopped shining as brightly. He said he would show me, if I wished, but that he hoped the next person to walk through those doors would be Mother herself. 

He had been so joyous. I asked him (somewhat reluctantly) if it would help him to tell me, or show me. He seemed conflicted. I know Lucien hopes Mother will come. I will admit it was heartbreaking to see that wound coil around Helion like a vise and draw such darkness from him. Still, I can’t imagine Mother here. She belongs in Autumn. Her fire is like mine. And who knows how she would keep up the work she’s been doing all these years. 

I need to give more thought to Azriel’s Solstice gift. 

Solstice Gifts

Azriel: 

Two cobalt sweaters like the black one he wears constantly (maybe also one in a dark red? consider)

A crate of wine from the orchard

Tell him the new bed is also partly a present for him, since it’s twice the size of the old one just to accommodate that damned wingspan

A cream for his hands – write to Nuan in Dawn

A puzzle box from the continent

A cupboard for all his weapons so he can stop dumping them in the entryway

Mother: The new writing desk (shipped last week - confirm delivery)

Lucien: A copy of his favorite Autumn childrens’ stories (sort of also for Flora?) and more calming teas without the sleep additives. A new weapon belt and set of throwing daggers

Elain: a personalized S.D. book and stationery with the daisies she admired (delivered December 12), the book on the unique flora of the Spring/Autumn border

Flora: The baby blanket of Lucien’s

Helion: a new bottle of whiskey, and an order of the hangover tonics Thesan sent

Rhys and Feyre: a crate of wine

Nyx?: a fire-breathing dragon toy

Cassian: a fire-breathing dragon toy that strategy game Lucien and I used to play

Nesta: a personalized S.D. book, plus two or three signed copies for her friends or to keep if she wishes

*****

Taglist: @c-starstuff-man0 @ninthcircleofprythianian @slowpress @talibunny30 @dusk-muse @jir67 @lilah-asteria If you want on or off the tag train, let me know!

[novacorpsrecruit]

Holding a Double Edged Sword (for my heart’s protection)

T | wc 15,004 | no cw

Based off of @vivalski ‘s art work here: https://at.tumblr.com/vivalski/here-comes-johnny-i-rambled-about-this/7uhkc6jfuce3

Read full fic on Ao3

Steve exhaled slowly, looking at the van’s ceiling above him. Eddie couldn’t help but watch the smoke leave his lips.

This happens a lot now. Eddie and Steve hanging out. After defeating Vecna and clearing Eddie’s name, Steve and Eddie grew close as friends hanging out more without Dustin as their buffer. There’s nothing like bonding over trauma, Eddie guesses. The two spent their Thursday evenings in the back of Eddie’s van out by the woods, where the sky was the clearest and nobody would call in their smoke session. Eddie looked at Steve, his neck extended, showing off his gorgeous freckles.

God.

Eddie had the hots for Steve.

But Steve was straight.

Painfully straight.

Like wears polos unironically. And they look so good on him, too. Plus, half the time they hang out, Steve’s talking about his failed relationships with girls and how he doesn’t want to just hook up with these girls. Eddie knew deep down, Steve still wasn’t over Nancy. And what Eddie wanted with Steve would never happen.

“You know how … Robin … is into girls?” Steve asked awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Eddie took a hit off the joint, nervous about where the conversation was going. He extended it to Steve, who continued to stare at the roof of the van. “I’m aware.”

“Girls can like girls,” Steve said a little more confident, like he practiced it in the mirror a few times before coming to hang out. Steve’s been nervous all night. Eddie wondered what his deal was, but the way the conversation is going, Eddie was afraid Steve knew his secret.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, his mouth dry. “They can.”

“Yeah,” Steve exhaled. He finally looked at the joint extended at him. He took it from Eddie’s hand, slowly taking a drag and exhaling. “And guys … can like guys.”

Shit.

Shit!

SHIT!

Eddie was found out. Steve was going to ditch him. It was different, being friends with a lesbian. She was never going to hit on Steve and make Steve uncomfortable. Being friends with a gay guy? That different. It makes straight guys uncomfortable, thinking they’re going to get hit on or flirted with. So if Steve found out that not only Eddie was gay but that he liked him? Friendship over.

“Yeah,” Eddie finally said. “They can. I just — “ the light bulb went off in his head. “Couldn’t imagine it. Not for me. I mean — I see a cute girl and go crazy. Like — Wheeler!”

“You like Nance?” Steve said, almost deflated. Fuck. Eddie was digging his hole. Maybe it would be deep enough he could bury himself in it.

“She’s — she’s hot, yeah,” Eddie said, leaning back like it was no big deal while his heart raced like he chugged a whole pot of coffee — not like he knew from experience. “But you know, guy code, I wouldn’t — I wouldn’t step on your toes or anything. I get it.”

Steve was silent for a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” he gave a breathy laugh. “Guy code. Hey —“ he bumped shoulders. “Does guy code cover … queer friends?”

“Like Robin?” Eddie wrinkled his brow.

“Like —“ Steve looked back up at the roof. “Like me?”

“You?” Eddie wrinkled his brow. Steve gave a very jarring nod. Eddie turned to look at Steve. “You, Steve Harrington, are into dudes?”

“Yeah,” Steve exhaled like he was taking weight off his chest. “Is that — is that okay?”

“Okay?” Eddie wrinkled his brow. “Yeah, of course it would be okay. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because I know how straight guys are,” Steve said. “It’s one thing being friends with Robin, but a gay guy?”

“Steve, it’s fine,” Eddie said, relaxing. “I promise you. How long have you — uh — been … “

“Been gay?” Steve laughed. “It’s not — it’s not like that. I mean — I think I knew sophomore year. I had a fight with Tommy and he — it’s not important — but I think it really hit me this past year. Robin and I talked about it — bisexuality.”

“Tommy Hagan?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Steve huffed, almost as if he was frustrated with himself. “But — uh … don’t worry. I won’t … hit on you or anything. You’re … not my type.”

Ouch. Maybe that hurt worse than thinking Steve was straight. Steve is gay but Eddie’s not his type. Shit. What’s his type? How could Eddie be his type? God. If his type was Tommy Hagan, this would be a lost cause. “Who … is your type?”

Steve looked at Eddie as if Eddie grew a second head. Then Steve laughed, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. “Uh — Shaun Cassidy. Tony Danza. Judd Nelson.”

“Hardy Boys Shaun Cassidy?” Eddie laughed. Steve threw an elbow into Eddie’s rib cage. “Sounds like you knew a little longer than sophomore year.”

“Yeah,” Steve took another hit off of the joint. He extended it back to Eddie. “I’m — I’m sorry. Should we not … share joints anymore?”

Eddie took the joint from Steve and took a long drag from it. “Who you like doesn’t change anything, sweetheart,” Eddie exhaled. “Promise you.”

Keep reading on Ao3

[idontknowreallywhy]

Just chucking my rambling about the soundtrack of SOS2 in a separate post rather than buried in the showdown reblogs… mostly because I’m impressed by how many things there are to say even though I don’t feel like I mentioned half of them!!

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

Musically (which is my particular obsession, especially as I also listen to the episodes a lot in the car so don’t have the picture to tell the story)… SOS2 though is next level.

It has all the themes, plus the new ones from Calypso/Braman but it shifts and develops them.

We have Four launching to the theme in 5/4! That’s so clever, it really sets me on edge as it makes it clear something is OFF. The scene before when they are discussing Braman adds to this edginess because the quiet tremolo strings in the background just tip it off comfortable.

The search / chase / trap cues are brilliantly executed… the chaos crew themselves could have been written a lot better, but the theme is a very clever and flexible one (much like the mechanic’s was - the Fosters clearly love a baddie) and it’s well incorporated here, especially in how it is blended with the ‘underwater’ soundscape and then with the tension music as the choir backing happens and the pulse increases… your high panic from the upper voices, strings and solo trumpet… the sense of inevitability and hugeness from the lower end of the orchestra… till it all culminates in what is effectively a musical scream… and then the strings give us quiet pain.

Then the silence.

Oh the silence.

There is no musical background as Fuse approaches. It’s just water and rocket noise. Which in such a musically rich episode is jarring, it makes me hold my breath.

Then when he sees Gordon and we hear the start of the string and horn backing for the elegy… I like to think it’s a turning point for Fuse, him realising this is bad, having regrets at the same time the audience are desperately worried for Gordon. But they are brave - they start the mourning song but they stop it! When it cuts back to the Chaos Cruiser and the Hood deserves no music.

It’s only when Fuse asks whether Gordon will be ok that we get the music back and… oh my.

THAT ELEGY.

Look I know I have raved about this before but holy moley it’s beautiful.

But but - notice - where the hood got only engine noise & no music, once the chaos cruiser is gone and it cuts to Thunderbird 2 we have all music no sound effects. I believe it’s the only time in all 3 seasons where the soundscape is entirely bare but for music. The Fosters talked about what a privilege it was to be given sole charge of what the audience hears at that key emotional moment. Thunderbird 2 silent??? The Tracys silent - they communicate only by looks. The music speaks their agony for them. The rockets on Thunderbird 2 fire but there is no sound from them. Virgil says Thunderbird Two is Go but we don’t hear it fly overhead.

The Thunder is gone.

The theme develops as FAB 1 is in shot and the sound effects coming back is another little shock - like you’re waking from a bad dream to find out it’s real.

The Rescuing Gordon cue gives us part of the elegy theme with Gordon’s launch again, back it’s back in a slow 4/4. Because Two is there and Two is safe and stable. BUT… it’s still not quite right - listen to the strings… not the semiquavers in the bass but the single broken notes over the top - slowly rising and then falling - they aren’t on the beat! Every time the note starts just a little sooner than it feels like it’s supposed to. They have a plan, they know what to do, but agh they are also in a rush and there’s a sense of fumbling desperation. So. Flipping. Clever. I didn’t notice it until maybe the 30th time of listening.

The strings climax at the point the pods lock on and we hold our breath… and as Penny cuts Gordon free so does the music - they really play around with the speed here, the new string tune that comes in… with too many notes to fit into the 4/4 pattern it’s like the beat pauses but the melody continues until with a *gasp* she has him and the pulse restarts.

When they get him into Two’s med bay it seems like the music is gonna stop, like it does on the Chaos Cruiser but no. There is a single, quiet, sustained note… the orchestra doesn’t let Gordon go.

I mean I could go on all day… Shadow V Chaos, wonderfully scored too… the fact the Braman’s Sacrifice theme (from when he steered the Calypso into the sea) soars in and combines with Kayo’s theme as she gives up her advantage over the Chaos Cruiser to turn and save him. Lush. The soft family theme at the hospital… aaah.

But one final thing…

The ending.

Because I have listened to this hundreds of times and STILL the goosebumps.

Brains brings up the data - We have the insistent pulse of the familiar theme but then a slow minor key string version of Braman’s sailing sailing song. Then as they start to realise what’s going on that fades and Jeff’s theme starts! Are we going to get it? It’s not totally clear… as Brains is trying to decrypt the hidden message the notes are held but as we see FAB we get the end of the melody! At last! JEFF TRACY! And it all rises and climaxes into the main theme at the end. PERFECT! BRAVO! *leaps from chair and dances*

[detective-inspector-her]

Arbiter Corps AU Incorrect Quotes Part 1

Valkyrie: Would you take a bullet for me? Skulduggery: ...yes? *Nefarian angrily burst into the room* Valkyrie: *running away* Great, thanks!

-

Nefarian: Don’t preach to me about romance, Valkyrie. I had a three-way in a hot-air balloon.

-

Omen: If Nefarian and I were drowning, who would you save? Skulduggery: You two can’t swim? Omen: It’s a hypothetical question, Skulduggery! Who would you save? Skulduggery: My time and effort.

-

Omen, cowering in fear: What do you want from me?! Valkyrie, standing in front of Omen: *bites into the whole KitKat bar like a heathen* Omen, crying: Please...stop...

-

Valkyrie: There are three ways to handle a difficult situation. The right way, the wrong way, and the Skulduggery way. Omen: Isn't that the wrong way? Nefarian: Yes, but it's faster.

-

Valkyrie: Hey, it’s your turn to wash the dishes. Nefarian: I’ll wash the walls red with your blood. Valkyrie: Okay, but before that, wash the dishes. Also, use soap this time.

-

*the Squad cleaning up* Valkyrie: Pick up the nearest piece of trash and throw it away. Nefarian, to Skulduggery: Aight, which bin do you wanna go in—

-

Nefarian: You need to be more careful! Valkyrie, who was dragged into Nefarian's issue: Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-

-

Nefarian: I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude. Also I'm magic.

-

*Valkyrie teaching Nefarian to drive and taking Omen along for the ride* Valkyrie: That's a pothole. To the left! Nefarian: Take it back now y'all *Drives into pothole* Omen, sticking his face into the front over the center console: Cha Cha real smooth. Nefarian: I don't think that's how the song goes. Valkyrie, crying and gripping the handle: Please just take me home. Nefarian: Country Roads. Omen: To the place. Nefarian and Omen in unison: I Belong! Valkyrie, crying harder: What the fuck?

-

Nefarian: People always shoot down my ideas and I’m sick of it. Two sentences in and everyone’s always shouting “what the fuck? that’s illegal!” and “you can’t do that!”. Like, c'mon, let me talk!

-

Valkyrie: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire. Nefarian: But what if something else happens just this one time

-

Nefarian, admiring a sleeping Skulduggery: You’re so cute. Skulduggery, sleepily: I could beat your ass. Nefarian, lovingly: I know.

-

Casually in the Middle of a High Stakes/Dangerous Situation Omen: How do you eat pickles? Valkyrie: What do you mean? Omen: I mean, there's a whole process. It's not like you can grab them from the jar with your hand, because it's cold and the juice burns if you have a cut, plus, it's pretty unsanitary. And you can't use a spoon because you'll have to scoop it out, and it'll be way too difficult to grab more than three or four without taking 10 minutes along with half the brine in the jar, even if it's one with holes. Valkyrie: Yeah, that's why you use a fork. Omen: Okay, sure, but what if you don't have one of the big ones clean? It's weird to use a small one. But there is always one of those smaller sharp knives clean. Valkyrie: But the straight edge doesn't really fit the cylindrical shape, and you have to make sure you don' t break it, it's too much work. Omen: It makes me feel like I deserve the pickles though. Like, "Yeah, I did it. That's right. Good job me." It's empowering. But even after that, it's not like you can use a bowl. Valkyrie: I get that, it's not ascetically pleasing. Omen: Exactly! And it looks weird if you don't entirely fill the bowl, but you also can't eat that many. My solution: Use a mug. Valkyrie: Nods in agreement Nefarian: That is all very interesting, BUT WE'RE TRYING NOT TO DIE RIGHT NOW! USE YOUR LIMITED ATTENTION SPANS AND FOCUS! Omen: Jeez, okay. Valkyrie: Quit yelling at us already.

-

Nefarian: What has the galaxy ever done for you?! Why would you wanna save it?! Valkyrie: Cause I’m one of the idiots who lives in it!

-

Skulduggery: Get on my level! Nefarian: Unfortunately, to "get on your level" I'd need a boat trip to the Mariana Trench and a pair of cinderblock shoes.

-

Nefarian, Skulduggery & Omen: *screaming* Valkyrie: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Omen?! Nefarian: Wait, why are you asking Omen that when Skulduggery and I are also here? Valkyrie: Because Omen wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance. Normally at each other.

-

All of them as a child: I can’t wait to grow up and have cool adventures! AOT now: I can’t wait to go to bed.

[raayllum]

"My mom used to do that." for claudiez 👀

as always they're in their 20s... Plus send me a number with a ship and i'll write it &lt;3 accepted ships are tdp canon ships + rarepairs (claudiez, sopreli, corvus/terry, sorvus)

There's very little that Ezran remembers about Sarai.

He remembers the warmth of her smile, he thinks. The softness of her hair in his chubby little hands. But beyond that, there's not much else—too recently weaned before her death for more than stories he's heard to take hold, and even then, it feels like every year Harrow (until he couldn't) and Callum, or even Aunt Amaya, would bring up something new, something small, that they remembered, and he was learning it for the first time.

Mom always wore little gold beads in her hair.

Those were her favourite pair of earrings.

She planned out the castle gardens, with those hedges over there.

Soren, even, citing that she was his first sword-fighting teacher back when she'd been captain of the guard, before she and Ez's dad had fallen in love.

Her birthday is always hard, an added winter chill growing throughout the castle. Ezran ensures more fires are lit, and Claudia enchants little glass jars of orange light with her Sun primal, for people to carry in their pockets to keep them warm. He dons his more heavily furred royal cape and keeps Bait close while he writes letters to his brother and Rayla in Xadia, climbing the cold steps up to the rookery to send them.

Claudia joins him more often than not in his study, to save on candles, she says, as they do their work long into the night, but Ezran thinks she just likes his company, his heart doing a hopeful little dance in his chest. He steals glances at her atop the rim of candlelight dancing in her green eyes, now with that spark of light in them that'd been gone for so long during the war. After the war, too.

"You know," he begins, when they're heading to the study after lunch, "we could go to the library. The fireplace there is warmer. There's more comfortable chairs."

We used to always sit up in the library when it got cold, his dad had said, and Callum would play on the floor with you in your mom's lap.

Claudia thinks for a moment, then grins adorably. "Why not?" she says.

They settle in with tea and jelly tarts as an extra bonus, Claudia easing off her prosthetic and letting her stump be close to the fire; Ezran knows the cold makes the phantom pains worse this time of year. (Terry still sends over a herbal remedy that helps with it from where he's set up an apothecary on the border of Del Bar and Katolis with Corvus.)

More of her dyed black hair falls in front of her ears while she works, making notes on charts for what magical goods will be imported once the ice melts, and Claudia pushes it back impatiently until she sits back and begins braiding it. It's still shorter than it was in their teens, no longer all the way down her back, but long enough to braid as she starts the process, fingers jolting.

Dark magic took a lot from her, but one of the things it left was permanent nerve damage in her hands. (The cold makes that worse, too.)

"My mom used to do that," Ez half-remembers, half-recalls. Another story about the differences from their royal portrait—the one real non-Callum produced picture of their mother he has, the way he pictures her in his mind's eye—and how she'd worn her hair in a braid just as often loose or in a bun.

Claudia smiles then, softly. "She did. She's actually the one who taught me, after..." Lissa, another woman Ezran has never really met, isn't a wound anymore, but it's still hard during this time of year. "After my mom left and I grew my hair out."

Ezran sets aside his letter to an Evenerean diplomat, rising when she struggles again. "I can do that for you, if you like."

"Oh. You don't—"

He steps around easily to stand behind her armchair. "Let me?"

Claudia turns to the front fully, exhaling. "Alright."

He gathers her hair gently, hands confident due to the way his father had shown him him growing up, but styled a bit more the way Moonshadows do their braids, like how Rayla had demonstrated. For love and affection, she'd said, having small, long ones tucked away behind thicker locks for each of them—Callum and Ez and Soren, her boys, and then for each of her parents.

"There," Ezran says, finishing. He takes off his cape too for good measure, and drapes it across her shoulders. Claudia is looking at him wide-eyed when he walks back around to face her, and he passes a hand self-consciously over the patch of hair he's growing on his chin.

"Thank you," she says at least, tugging his cape further over her shoulder. The royal red brings out the green of her eyes and black of her hair. It suits her.

"Don't mention it," Ezran says, sitting again. They catch each other's eye, briefly, and share a smile, before she blushes a bit and looks away.

He feels warm for the first time all day.

[themirokai]

I did my at-least-annual tradition of making my family’s chicken soup recipe on Sunday, and I took process photos, so I thought I’d share. Here’s what I have written down but for all its vagueness it’s still not accurate.

I think every generation has modified some stuff about the process and tweaked it for their particular tastes.

Instead of using a whole chicken, I use a split chicken breast (2 halves) plus a pack of chicken thighs (4). I like this better because the ratio of meat to fiddly bits is better and Surfski likes CHICKEN soup (lots of chicken per bowl). You could easily use half a breast or one or two fewer thighs, but I think the mix of white and dark meat is important for flavor.

Next is something I added to the recipe after reading Salt Fat Acid Heat. I salt my raw chicken and let it sit out for at least half an hour before I put it in the water. I think this helps the chicken hold flavor through the cooking.

While the chicken is sitting (so a change from the order of the recipe) I chop a large sweet onion plus the carrots, celery, and parsnips. I think I used 5 skinny stalks of celery, 4 carrots and 5 parsnips, but especially given the size variability you’ve got to judge this based on vibes. How much of each vegetable does your heart tell you that you need in your soup? The one exception to this is if you are not familiar with parsnips and you are considering skimping on them or leaving them out. That is not your heart. That is the devil and you must resist. Trust me on this and use about as many parsnips as carrots.

The next step was added by my great aunt who was a genius in the kitchen (also very good at refurbishing antiques but that’s less relevant). You heat up some butter and olive oil and sautee your vegetables in it. Yes it makes another pan to clean but it’s completely worth it. You don’t cook it for long! Just until the carrots and celery get bright and the onion is just starting to get translucent and everything is a tiny bit soft.

Ok, set the veg aside but I highly recommend snacking on some of the parsnips at this point. Every time I make chicken soup it always makes me want to make roast parsnips and I always forget when I’m meal planning.

Next it’s chicken time! Load your chicken into a big heavy pot and cover it with water. I just barely cover it because I’m going to need room for lots of veg.

Put that on your biggest burner and boil it. It will take a while to come up to a good boil. Once it’s boiling it will start to foam. This stuff.

Ick. Skim that off and throw it away.

Now, when the foaming is done, turn down the heat and dump in your veg. Mix it all in there then put your bunch of dill on top. Make sure you take off the twist tie or anything else holding the dill together.

My mom added this next step which she got from a friend of hers. It’s this shit called Better Than Bouillon.

You can use the plain chicken variety. Roast chicken is just what my grocery store had. I’m not 100% sure what it is but it really does add gorgeous flavor to the soup. I put one big spoonful in a big pot. This is what it looks like out of the jar.

Now you let everything cook together until the chicken is cooked. How long will that take? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Depends on the size of your chicken pieces and how high you have the heat, etc. When you think it might be done, pull out your biggest piece of chicken and poke it. It should be white and firm. If it is, pull the rest of the chicken out too and turn the heat way down but leave the veg and the dill in to simmer.

Now you walk away. Go scroll tumblr. Read a chapter of a book. Draw something. But you gotta let the chicken cool down.

Why? Because you’re going to shred that with your fingers and you don’t want to burn your fingerprints off. Or maybe you do. I don’t know your life.

Anyway, this is a good spot for me to stop and hit post because I’m on mobile and I’ll run up against the 10 image limit.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this so far! The rest of the recipe and the end product will be in a reblog.

[bugbyte]

Recent discoveries from the land of Bug lives with a chronic illness and is tired all the time:

This is probably obvious to everyone but holy shit, crock pot. I used to use this thing mostly for a few very specific recipes because I feel like there’s something about the cooking method where things can tend to lose flavor or texture (might just be a me thing) but lately it’s been a lifesaver when I am hurting and exhausted, which has been a lot.

I’m trying to cut back on premade or processed stuff where I can because I don’t think it’s good for me personally or for our budget. (No judgement from me if that’s what’s easiest for you, we all gotta eat somehow.) Cooking has become a mega effort for me when I’m having a flare up and it’s been tough. I used to do all the cooking for us because I genuinely love to do it, but it’s gotten so hard for me recently and I’m trying new methods.

More chatter and recipes under the break~

This is all kind of a medium effort (unless you have someone to help, which I am lucky to have) so it might not work for everyone, because the ceramic piece of the cooker is kind of heavy to get out and clean if you’re prone to dropping things (I am) but it can go in the dishwasher. Also chopping things can be a pain; I have a little chopping thing that helps when I’m cooking alone, it looks like this:

Anyway, if you can get past those hurdles via tools or help or buying pre-chopped veggies, you’re halfway there. You can also prep veg when you’re having a good day and freeze it so you have it ready on a bad day.

Here are a few of my favorite recipes, all are kinda chicken-based and the method is basically the same but you can probably substitute another protein, this just works for my budget and dietary needs. The only thing I might not use is ground meat; something funny can happen with the texture of it, I think because you’re not necessarily stirring all the time. It can cook kinda weird if you’re not attentive, and we’re going for as hands off as possible here.

Today we chopped up a bunch of veggies and dumped them in with chicken breast, a bunch of seasoning (curry, garam masala, garlic, ginger, a little Trader Joe’s sriracha seasoning for a little heat, I mean, I don’t think you can really add too many spices here?? Add and measure with your heart, as they say), and a jar of tikka masala sauce. Then we just have to make rice later and it’s all set. 4-6 hours on high, 6-8 on low seems to be the standard and works for basically everything I’ve tried so far. Yeah, it’s kind of premade with the jar sauce, but having something hot with real veggies and chicken when you’re not feeling good is a real morale boost at the end of the day. Plus, a ton of leftovers.

Another easy one I love is chopping up an onion and a bell pepper or two, pour in either a jar of tomato pasta sauce or a big can of crushed tomatoes + whatever garlic/basil/etc seasonings you like, and throw a couple of chicken breasts on top with some seasoning on those too. Same timing as above. By the end the chicken just shreds apart by pinching it with tongs really easily (I have hand grip issues and I can do it) so shred that and stir it all together. This stuff is great on pasta, probably also would be an amazing sandwich on a bun with some mozzarella?? Last time we used a can of tomatoes so there was a ton of extra liquid and I just dumped in a package of farfalle at the end of cooking (or 30 minutes to the end, ish) and mixed it well, gave it 30 minutes to soak up the sauce, and it was really tasty. You really only have to pay attention at the end to make sure the pasta is the way you want it, not over or under done.

Lastly, tacos. Chicken, in whatever quantity you want. We are 2 people and 2 breasts is enough for a bunch of tacos and leftovers for lunch the next day. Add a little olive oil (just a dash to help stuff stick) and half a packet of any taco seasoning you like (save the rest for the end). Mix in one of those little cans of chopped green chilies plus about one tiny can of water or chicken broth if you’re feeling fancy. Cook either high or low (as above) but I find low on 6-8 hours actually does come out better on this one. When it’s done, shred the chicken like the tomato recipe. It should just fall apart with very little effort. Then add in the rest of the seasoning packet and mix; it helps thicken any liquid into sauce. If you still end up with too much liquid somehow, just scoop some out with a ladle. Then just put it on tortillas with whatever taco stuff you like. This one also works pretty well with a big chunk of pork, like pork shoulder. You may need some extra seasoning and stuff because it’s bigger, and I would also add some garlic to the pork version for better flavor. If you have the energy or assistance this stuff is also great shredded up and thrown under a broiler for a couple minutes for crispy edges, but that’s totally optional. Still tasty without it.

Anyway, just thought I’d share some of the easy stuff I’ve come across and liked because I love cooking and I hate how much trouble I’ve had making good food without running myself to exhaustion since I started having health problems. It’s a learning curve for sure.

[theminecraftbee]

magical girl scar au (mostly) explained

this is an au based on an amalgamation of magical girl tropes! think more on the sailor moon side than madoka, although there are a lot of fairly dark elements to the story as well (which is like... perfectly in line with 'sailor moon' but some people think madoka invented 'magical girl story but it's dark' so i'm putting this here).

in it, scar accidentally lets a bunch of magical spirits out of a jar. that jar's guardian, a mysterious cat named jellie, tells him that she is going to make him a magical girl so he can find the spirits, fight them down from possessing people, and put them back in the jar, using the power of the fact the wishing star is approaching earth!

this starts out as a simple monster-of-the-week affair, but quickly grows more complicated as not only is there clearly a bit more going on than just 'spirits escaped a jar', but there's clearly some organized force conspiring against them. more than that, there's this other magical girl, calling herself backbird. for some reason, she fights against scar, and even on the side of the spirits, sometimes. scar KNOWS there has to be more to her, but...

plus, he still has his day job at the greenhouse. at least his coworkers are normal about all of this. grian hasn't even said anything about how many times scar's dipped in the middle of a shift!

and then things continue to get even more complicated from there.

so, putting this out here now, the BEST way to get the details is probably just to go through the tag, linked here in chronological order (this doesn't work on the mobile app i think sorry use the web browser). however given that its been MONTHS and there are. so many pages in this tag because every time i talk about this au i don't shut up about it... here's a really long post explaining a bunch of stuff that's in this au! under the cut so you don't have to like, deal with it being all over your dash. warning: this is long.

basic premise stuff:

scar is a very pink magical girl who. i think i never came up with a name for him. he fights with jellie's help. even transformed he has a wheelchair; that wheelchair changes into the form of various animals for mobility when he attacks. he has a magic bow that is his main weapon and is the person who can most easily de-possess someone when they're possessed by a spirit using those attacks.h early story he's a bit traditionally "pink magical girl" but he starts to come into his own more over the story. becomes a very powerful mage. later we learn he wasn't jellie's first choice, which is part of why things start spiraling out of control. she doesn't regret it.

grian is blackbird. scar does not know this, and grian does not know scar is his enemy while transformed. grian became blackbird on meeting the spirit of freedom shortly after the spirits escaped and, instead of becoming fully possessed, striking a deal, which unlocked his potential as a mage enough to become fully a magical girl. he is then found by the shadow organization, which, due to the fact that grian at the start of this fic is extremely isolated, he ALSO is forced to strike a deal with for his protection. his ultimate goal is actually full freedom for the spirits and the spread of magic, but his means to that end are... let's say "not good"... and he sees himself as a villain.

spirits are the magical representation of abstract concepts. on their own they don't have thoughts and feelings; prolonged exposure to humans, however, can give them those. (this is not a fact scar knows for at least half the story.) on their own, they seek out people who are somewhat like themselves and possess those people, turning them into monsters who have powers that are on-theme with the concept they represent. (for example, a spirit of fear would have powers based around fears, and a spirit of sleepiness would make everyone tired.) scar can fight these monsters, tire them out, and force the spirit to stop possessing a person, allowing him to capture them once more so they stop causing trouble.

the shadow organization is a cult-like organization that has existed since the time magic was common in the world; they believe that while magic should come back, it should only be harnessed in the hands of the few that would "use it correctly". there are actually several splinters of this organization, some of which are more benign than others, but most forms of the organization are scar's enemy, since they wish to use the spirits for their own illicit gain. they also have ties to parts of the government, where they often study what magic remains in the world in exchange for resources. these are the Mysterious Bad Guys, except that throughout the plot, we meet people like doc or etho or wels, who are perhaps... not as much of bad guys. let alone grian's situation...

while in the past the battle between the shadow organization and whoever jellie chooses tended to remain secret, this is one of the first times it has happened with modern technology, and ALSO scar broke the jar before jellie could choose someone, so neither side was actually prepared. as a result, a big element of this au is how these various magical conflicts interact with the public and the people in the main city setting, public opinion on our vigilante heroes, and the increasing realization that this whole magic situation is more complicated than either side makes it out to be.

the ultimate end of the au does have the spirits somewhat under control and magic free to the public after a near-apocalypse, as well as (most) of the shadow organization defeated, and the world adjusts to having magic under the wishing star anew. however the story theoretically takes a long time to get there, with it building from early-story "monster of the week" shenanigans and bringing in more plot elements over time.

here is an approximate timeline of what arcs happen when.

team scar:

scar is as above. he's the defacto leader. he becomes a celebrity in his own right. it's all very stressful.

cub is scar's longtime friend and roommate. he clocks that scar is a magical girl fairly early and insists on helping scar. for a good while, however, cub can't transform himself, and doesn't have any specific magical gifts. instead, he uses his wits and also his concealed carry permit to help scar fight. this comes to a head when he's possessed by the spirit of chaos, and afterwards manages to make a deal with the spirit himself, allowing him to transform. he has very mixed feelings about a lot of this and is protective over scar. his possession actually comes from him being very pent-up due to the fact that he cares a LOT about scar and keeps on having to be the voice of paranoid reason instead of the chaotic asshole he wants to be, so when a chaos spirit possesses him, despite the fact he knows all the warning signs very well, he just falls into it. later, cub befriending this spirit is when team scar starts to REALLY realize that there's more to everything than just "fight spirits stop evil organization".

bdubs is a civilian at first. however, as the plot progresses, civilians with great magical potential start unlocking magical gifts, and bdubs's is that he gets visions in his dreams. horribly annoyed that he can't sleep anymore, he decides to start trying to interfere with team scar, who he initially blames. however once he has a prophetic dream showing them having a terrible fate, he starts giving them anonymous tips instead, before storming in to help them as their "man in the chair" type archetype. eventually, he transforms on his own due to his magical potential and joins the team after saving their lives. idk what else to say about him, bdubs is bdubs.

jellie is something adjacent to a spirit. she got the name from scar; she thinks its silly and cute. she was created by the Last Mage long ago to keep an eye on the jar of spirits and prevent magic from escaping into the world; she's actually quite lonely, as scar is one of the first mages she's ever had who treats her like a friend and a valuable member of the team. while she definitely nags, she ultimately cares deeply for scar and the others.

spirits/magic:

so, spirits! already explained how they work; they're sort of like clow cards in cardcaptor or akuma in miraculous, though, if you need design thoughts. (clow cards and youma sailor moon were my main inspirations but the akuma comparison is not wrong.)

long ago, in the distant past, everyone had the ability to use magic as powered by the wishing star. however, due to the way mages used this power and the fact that no magic is truly free, it caused the creation of spirits. the spirits wreaked havoc on the world, so using the wishing star and his abilities, the Last Mage created jellie to guard the spirits before using his power to seal away the spirits, sacrificing himself and also locking away most magic from the world forever. however, sometimes the wishing star gets particularly close to the planet and a few spirits escape, which is why jellie has the ability to temporarily awaken a mage who is the most like the Last Mage to prevent magic from truly leaking into the land again.

a group of former mages, incensed at the loss of their power and believing the real issue with magic being in the world was that the Wrong Kinds Of People could use it, created the shadow organization, intending to use magic to take power for themselves.

spirits being freed, jellie making a new mage, and the shadow organization fighting to try to take power for themselves continued in a cycle through history. additionally, as organized governments formed, they often hired members of the shadow organization to work out the remnants of that ancient magical civilization. while the existence of this cycle/magic isn't really known anymore, it's also not NOT known. aka: there's DEFINITELY some alternate history here that i haven't worked out.

scar is NOT a mage like the first mage; he's just like, a guy. however, in the process of helping save jellie, who he saw as an innocent cat, from some jerks, while she was trying to find who she would make her next mage, he broke the jar. left with no options and an awareness that scar was her only choice, jellie picked a mage early, and she made it scar. this initial small act of breaking the cycle is a large part of why everything gets out of hand - none of the ancient powers-that-be are fully in place for another round, and the people selected for the war this time are all people who have their own agendas and are less likely to continue to perpetuate it.

as the wishing star grows near and the longer the spirits are freed, more people realize their own magical potential. most people who can do magic can only do one or two little things unassisted; oftentimes they don't have control over this. these cantrips can still be a problem. very rarely, there are people who can awaken as magical girls, but they are pretty much incapable of doing this on their own; they need a push.

however, a spirit and a human can form a pact where that spirit boosts a human's magical potential, allowing them to become a magical girl. this is ALMOST LIKE a spirit possessing someone, except the human remains in control of themselves (mostly). over time, however, a human who is in a pact like this may retain the ability to be a magical girl on their own. this is also dangerous, though, as the higher a mage's magical potential, the more disastrous the consequences should they actually become possessed, and the more destructive the resulting monster will be.

magical girls are typically hard to possess though since they're very magically realized.

the shadow organization has tools and weaponry that can affect magic and magic-users, and are studying it. this is part of what grian's role is later on; the shadow organization seeks to replace him, since literally everyone in that arrangement knows grian has his own agenda. that ends... badly... but it's part of what happens.

human weaponry CAN help but also like, sometimes you're bringing a tank to fight godzilla, you know? in order to get someone un-possessed once they go full monster, you almost always need a mage who knows what they're doing.

civilians/the public:

scar makes no effort to hide magical girl fights and this is the digital era, baby! the existence of a magical girl fighting monsters becomes public knowledge very quickly, and is also part of why scar keeps his identity secret for most of the au - it won't end well if everyone knows who he is.

attitudes towards the magical girls changes throughout the au; some people blame team scar for the fact the attacks are happening at all, some people adore team scar and treat them as celebrities, and some people, to grian's horror, even think blackbird is pretty cool, in a "well i'm gonna root for the villain now to be edgy" kind of way. depending on at what point we're at in the story, how many people are in what categories changes.

there's an early arc i'm emotionally attached to where the city is sent like, a branch of the military to help the monster problem. at first scar is really grateful for the help (cub trusts less), but they collaboration breaks down, partially because the shadow organization is involved, partially in the "the government doesn't trust these magical girls" way, and scar and cub are forced to fight their way out. it's one of the low points of their public relations and is a complete debacle.

stress is mayor and ends up deciding to throw her lot behind the magical girls even despite this later and it's a risky political move that pays off locally; typically, locals are FAR more likely to be trusting of team scar, due to being far more likely to know at least one person who wouldn't be alive if it weren't for them.

a support group exists for victims of possessions/people who know victims of possessions. this is where a number of side characters, like team zit, all meet and interact with the plot after they have been possessed. cub joins this group at one point as well. the support group in my head is the focus of most of the "civilian-centric" episodes, as is a few various reporters who interview the main gang.

some other notable civilian characters include pearl, who knew impulse online and moved into town after the monster attacks started because she heard an old friend she lost touch with after A Childhood Incident might be living nearby. she investigates despite being pretty directly told "you're going to get killed".

there's a whole Bit with mumbo where he's like, this background character who CONSTANTLY GETS POSSESSED and it's sort of like, in my head there's a running gag in the theoretical tv show that is this au where the gang starts the episode rescuing mumbo again.

team zit all originally met in online chat groups but only met each other in person through the support group, after each individually having various bad encounters with spirits.

also shoutout to the joke that hawkeye is an in-universe superhero who scar tries to name himself after that no one lets him do because Copyright.

xisuma is a very oblivious man who owns the flower shop that scar and grian work at for their day jobs; he notices scar and grian constantly taking suspicious time off but just like, assumes they're secretly superspies, which is so close and yet so far.

grian/the shadow organization:

grian's arc focuses on him STARTING OUT as a villain, but over time and also being worn down by scar, realizing he can take a different path. he is a VERY TYPICAL dark magical girl trope in this way. scar realizes who he is before grian realizes who scar is, but doesn't say anything. over time, grian changes from a villain to more of like... a rival, and then, after the king of monsters arc, in which grian is captured by the shadow organization and allows the spirit of freedom to fully possess him and has to be rescued, a very late-game ally. he's a fun one because he has like, a halo of knives and a very dark magical girl woe is me vibe, it's fun.

doc is a member of the shadow organization who, on interacting with members of the outside world like ren more, starts to realize what he's doing is wrong and attempt to protect people a little from the shadow organization's machinations. he gets in trouble for this, but grian helps him get out later, and he helps the final assault.

etho is a low-level grunt in the shadow organization who is very deliberately bad at his job. he befriends bdubs, just 'cause, and bdubs ends up having a whole arc of being paranoid on realizing etho is a member of the shadow organization and seems to KNOW and, oh god, are they all in danger? they aren't. etho is just etho.

wels is also a member of the shadow organization on a lower rank (possibly in a splinter group) and, unlike etho, his arc is a much more seriously "okay so he grew up in this organization basically brainwashing him and is slowly Getting Out but what does he do with that". that's wels's thing.

the shadow organization is meant to be an amalgamation of The Enemy in magical girl shows. a number of MEMBERS are decent but the actual leadership/top of the organization is The Shadowy Enemy. hence why they're always referred to as the shadow organization.

and for NOW those are the major details i think you need? i THINK? let me know if there's other stuff you think i should have included in this!

[lizisodd]

OK, some disjointed Why We Fight thoughts because the last half of the episode is not meant for snarky liveblogging.

This is the first time we see Dick at a loss for words. Even in Day of Days, acting as CO and leading a handful of guys into battle, and he's collected. But in the camp, he's taking longer to respond, speaking in a quieter, hoarse voice, and stammering a bit. Please give all the awards to Damian Lewis.

Dick asks Christenson — played by German speaker Michael Fassbender, — if any of his guys speak German. (Ultimately Liebgott comes to translate.)

Speaking of German, guess Web forgot how? His character is all over the place.

Does this show do too many flashbacks? Is it a narrative crutch? I can't decide.

Like others, I wish we'd gotten a different Nix episode and this focused on Liebgott. Maybe move all the Liebgott/Webster antagonism to WWF and have TLP be Nix's episode? Just spitballing. He's pretty disillusioned in TLP too, and at this point in the show, the writers are messing with the timeline more, so it wouldn't really matter if, say, Cathy's divorce letter came a month earlier or he was demoted then either.

There's something very odd about the documentary vet interviews being "this German could have been my friend" and then the conclusion of the episode being "all these townspeople definitely knew what was going on, and no response/resistance is acceptance of this horror." It's too late for me to articulate my thoughts well.

There's also something off-putting about Easy's role in the camp being fictionalized (ie, they didn't discover it, but rather helped there for a day before moving out). While BOB isn't a documentary, it has documentary pieces (the vet interviews) and is touted for it's historical accuracy. However, it's ultimately a TV show that needs to provide entertainment, not a history text book. There's something jarring about fictionalizing a bit of the Holocaust, when so many people deny or trivialize it, plus it seems to dishonor the actual unit that liberated the camp (who I can't remember off the top of my head, sorry). In some big picture ways, it doesn't matter. The broad general strokes are there. But I think you need to be so careful about these types of stories.

I'm obsessed with watching reaction videos and found one by some Serbian young women who understood what the prisoner who's carrying the (near) corpse said. It's in Serbian and it's essentially "help him, he's still alive." Absolutely gut-wrenching to watch their reaction.

Speaking of, everyone I've ever watched this with or seen reaction videos of focuses on Nix losing his dog — and not his kid. Sorry, son.

Forgot to say this is the only time we see Speirs shake, too.

In conclusion 😭😭😭

[wayfayrr]

👾 anon here

Sage kinda would have to be a house husband since he is from hyrule and not from here making him not have any documents of his birth, pretty much making it harder for him to get a job or anything that has to do with people needing to know of his birth and I doubt people would believe that he came from a video game especially knowing how his ears look more human than hylian and half of his arm is missing and people would question that and look at reader thinking their suspicious and they have done something terrible to sage like kidnapping and sage wouldn't want that. Sage would probably have an interest of true crime shows because he would be able to pick the bad and good habits that killers did to or get caught and find the things that would kill a person more efficiently. Because of him now only having one arm he is gunna need help for some tasks like the ones where you need both arms altho he wants to prove that he is perfect to be a house husband for reader which the hole needing help to open a jar might break that to him but that is a plus cause that means reader would have to be with him as it can be used to bond and to get their attention to him instead of the chain. Being at reader's world now would Legend's hair be turn more normal he would probably have only few streaks of pink hair and twilight marks look faded like their old tattoos and much for the favor of sage those two would not turn into their animal forms as much and I think hyrule would feel much weaker as he is a fairy. Hyrule would probably try to learn modern medicine from shows and twilight would probably tag along sage when he is farming or going to the farmers market. Maybe one of them becomes a influencer to help reader with the bills since now there isn't just two people living but more than twelve if you count the others and reader.

@neverchecking, @lovanmari MORE HOUSE HUSBAND SAGE!!!

AKSMSDKCVM BECAUSE WARS AS AN INFLUENCER 💀 It'd have to be him of any links, He's already got the looks. wild could be his camera man since he'd be hopeless with tech. And you're so right, reader would be DONE with how they're having to provide for everyone now. If any of the links offered to help, they'd be readers new favourite instantly - much to everyone else's jealousy.

as for some of the other points 👾, Sage very much volunteered but at the same time reader would be in so much trouble if he was found without any ID, there's a chance he'd try to forge some just to make it easier on them so they don't have to be as stressed about him going out or getting arrested themselves there isn't a single way he'd let that happen after all. But Wind would be the real issue - adults can somewhat slide, excuses for loosing things sure. but a kid? Reader is fucked if that ever got picked up on, and school is a whole different problem to deal with.

As for legend and the others, his hair would probably stay the same - sure the magic has gone, but it's not like hair dye doesn't exist here. The same could go for Twi's markings since they could be written off as a tattoo permanent without the magic so you're right about how they'd fade over time. It's less like the looks are the issue, it's just the magic isn't there anymore and anything - like their ears, Hyrule's fairy side and sage's arm have no way to fit into the real world so they get lost over time. ALSO POOR HYRULE, He's going to be bed sick for at least a week while his body adjusts. DO YOU THINK SAGE IS BAD WITH JUST AN ARM MISSING?? RULIE CAN'T MOVE AND HE'S NOT PLAYING IT UP AS MUCH AS HE COULD. While I do like the idea of Sage losing his arm within the real world as well, I feel like it wouldn't be completely lost. Reader would be constantly reassuring him that he's good enough and perfect as he is, only encouraging him to do it even more ✨✨. But if it was he would play it up for so many sympathy points, begging reader to open jars, to have them dote on him when he gets phantom pains and suspiciously only having it play up when the others want reader attention.