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residenthughes · 30 days

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coming home - connor dewar

pairing: connor dewar x fem! reader

word count: 11k

tags/warning: friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst?, mentions of alcohol/drinking, minor swearing

summary: your entire life has entailed having connor by your side, no matter where the universe carves your paths. back home for the summer leading up to your final year of university, there's much to ponder - even your feelings about your best friend.

notes: this is genuinely a labour of love, the longest fic i've written in a long time 😭 i wanted this to be short and sweet, but it's long and sweet and i don't know how to feel about that lmao. but (!!!) i am really proud/happy about how this has come together and i hope you all enjoy this fic just as much as i loved writing it 😇 this is mostly proofread, but it is 5 in the morning, so I'll return to this soon! (apologizes for any errors towards the end!) more dewey content shall be coming soon, hehe! much love! <333

(also! this is very much in celebration of dewey's first goal as a leaf, teehee! 😁💗⭐️)

Summer’s always your favourite time of the year. Tan lines, midnight drives, fireworks, the beach. So much sweetness is in the breezy summer air and you simply can’t get enough. You wouldn’t admit it, but your favourite part of the season is when one of your closest friends, Connor, comes up from his gruelling hockey season and returns to the slow and laid-back lifestyle of your small town. Having grown up next door neighbours the majority of your lives, you quickly became two peas in a pod, always together with laughter following closeby.

Your friendship is something you’ve always treasured, held in some reclusive and special part of your heart that only houses your fated connection. No matter how mundane your time together may be - Connor strumming his acoustic guitar and you reading as the citrus sunset dips into the horizon - it's all so memorable to you and nothing, as you’ve come to experience, can ever replace his place in your life. However, life is a constant cycle of change and that first dose came when you two were fourteen, too awkward for your own good and growing out of your bodies. Connor was selected to play in a high-level hockey league hours away from your hometown and as your fingertips buried themselves into his tear-soaked t-shirt, you swore nothing could compare to this pain. The absolute tear of your beating heart out of your raw chest that ached with every gasp. You were a mess, undeterred by your futile attempt to appear as nonchalant at your silly age, but the second Connor stood on your porch, luggage in hand and the sadest tinge in his sage eyes, you fell apart.

Despite the sheer anguish you experienced that crisp autumn day, you adjusted. Stayed in contact with your best friend and continued to build up your life in his absence. Completed all your teenage rites of passage - took some extracurriculars, went to prom (you wanted to ask Connor, but ultimately decided against it), graduated high school and started attending university in Calgary - nine hours away from home. So many things changed and some still stayed the same. Connor was still as hockey obsessed and through his diligent efforts, he’s achieved his dreams of playing in the NHL night after night. You were there for draft day and there for his first game, university be damned. As was Connor, in the stands during your high school graduation and any time you needed him, whether that was him sitting on the phone with you until four in the morning or meeting up with you halfway across two countries because he felt like it. There was always something so spectacular about you two, your stories detailed by destiny and hung amongst the stars. A divine creation that despite the odds, of paths that have taken you two elsewhere, always merged because that is simply how it’s meant to be.

And, so it is, your last summer before your final year and here you are, fingertips tapping against the wooden bar as your leg jerks in anticipation of a figure that will come through your hometown bar, Punch & Judy’s doors any minute now.

Your best friend, Charlotte, manages to interweave your antsy fingers in between hers, a nurturing smile across her smooth face. “He’ll get here, don’t worry.”

Your eyebrows quirk, your legs stopping all motion. “Who said anything about worrying?”

She rolls her eyes, unamused. “You know what I mean,”

Then, she goes on to untangle your fingers, leaning her crossed arms against the bar occupied by the usual mellow group of regulars, including your own bunch of friends. “Besides, you know him. Knowing you’re here, he’s tryna get here quicker than a New York minute.”

A funny feeling flips in the pits of your stomach, an immediate flush coating the apples of your cheeks as you clumsily grab at your cider bottle. Connor always poked fun at your inability to enjoy a cold one, resorting to fruity flavours of cider. “He’s a law-abiding citizen, he’ll wait for the greenlight even if it kills him.”

“If you say so,” Charlotte casts you a glance out of the corner of her eye, smugness tugging at the corners of her lips as she takes another swig of her beer. The bell signifying the main door opening sounds in the background. “Oh, look. Speak of the devil and he shall appear! Hey there, stranger!”

Suddenly, your attention is elsewhere, eyes pinned to the tall silhouette that struts through the doorway of the LED ridden bar, kind eyes and a kinder smile with his tousled hickory hair and hushed voice finding its way to your eardrums again after so long. It’s like coming home again, watching from afar as close friends fall into endless hugs, your reunion saved for last as you beam a closed mouthed smile, reproduced by your best friend who opens his arms for a hug that solely belongs to you. You fall into him instinctively, inhaling his soft woody scent as you bury yourself in his embrace, the pendulum of your life coming to a pause as your universe centres.

“Get a room, you two!” Connor’s brother, Quinn taunts from over your shoulder, eliciting an exaggerated sigh from you as you’re reluctantly reminded of the lame chirps he seems to be full of whenever you and Connor are together.

You ignore him, savouring the moment for what its momentarily worth before Connor’s pulling away, arms loosely wrapped around the circumference of your waist as he peers down at you with those same green eyes you’ve known your entire life.

“Hi.” you breathe, short and sweet.

He simpers, something coy in the lines of his smile as he replies back, “hi.”

It’s a simple greeting, but there’s so much more in those few syllables - the endless gravity of your shared experiences and fondest memories making their way back to each other. Your eyes linger for a minute longer, taking in each other’s presence that’s long been missed due to your busy schedules leading up to your summer break. You part ways and despite how fulfilled you are to have him here and see him after some time, there’s a small knack that nags at you - hollow and wanting as you venture to a booth nearby, squishing up in between Charlotte and another one of your guy friends, Owen Power, who like Connor has been busting his ass in the NHL and friends with you all for longer than you can remember. You all chatter amongst yourselves with Connor’s brother sitting across from you, a discussion brewing as Connor returns shortly after getting a drink at the bar, sliding beside his brother with a beer in hand.

“Come on, Connie. Help me out here, these guys have lost the plot.” His brother argues, an eye roll your response.

Connor looks between your group, a knit in his eyebrows. “What’s the deal?”

“They’re tryna say, get this - that dolphins are more dangerous than damn orcas. Can you believe that?” Quinn attests, expression pinched as he ruffles the curls of his bleached hair sticking out his snapback.

“Hey! We’re well within reason to be arguing with you. You on the other hand? I don’t think so.” Charlotte proclaims, an accusatory finger directed towards Quinn.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, Quinn. You’re severely underestimating how evil dolphins are,” concludes Owen, his hand raised as he pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his sunkissed nose.

Quinn guffaws, jaw slack as his eyes flicker between everyone’s faces in quick succession, clearly in disbelief. “Are you hearing this right now?”

“Look, Q - we’ve been over this,” you start, hands extending as if to make sense of your proposed point. “You’ve been fed dolphin propaganda. We’ve literally shown you so many resources about their heinous crimes. Take it or leave it.”

Quinn groans, elbowing his older brother who wordlessly listens to the ongoing conversation. “Bro! A little help would be nice.”

A brief pause follows his younger brother’s melodrama, Connor weighing out the arguments of a conversation he hadn’t been here for, his eyes flickering over towards yours fleetingly. An unexplained shiver runs down your spine, the action camouflaged poorly as you appear to distract yourself from the sensation, fingernails scratching against the lines of your neck as you look up at the ceiling.

“Hello?!” hollers Quinn.

You swear he loves to hear himself talk.

“They’re right,” Connor concludes, eyes set on you as he speaks before he takes a swig of his beer, focusing back onto his brother. “Personally, I think you’ve been taking one too many trips to Sea World.”

“The promised land of dolphin propaganda.” mentions Charlotte.

“This is ridiculous!” Quinn exclaims, sending a heavy elbow into his older brother’s arm, all of which barely gains any sort of response from him. “What happened to honour amongst bros, huh? They don’t have that in Minnesota or what?”

Connor scoffs lightly, his smile reading amused as his head turns towards his brother. “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything you say.”

Quinn mumbles something under his breath, clearly displeased. “I forget you’re my harshest critic.”

Their double act entices the crowd, your circle of friends laughing amongst yourselves as Quinn folds his shoulders with his usual theatrics. No one buys into it, much less Connor who drapes his arm loosely around his brother’s squared shoulders, leaning in with a tickled pink smile that reflects within your own expression.

“You’re just mad I won’t kiss your ass.”

That earns him a shove off Quinn’s shoulders, sending him into a fit of laughter. Everyone chortles along, basking in the merriment of the moment before you’re delving into other non-controversial topics, indulging everyone in the bits and pieces of your lives they’ve missed and just like that, you're four drinks in and so sentimental it hurts. Owen suggests a walk around the town centre, a tradition you cannot help but all agree to as you all shimmy out of your respective booth, bidding Judy at the bar farewell as you file out of the establishment.

The cobalt sky dazzles with stars you’ve forgotten shine so bright here, the midday heat nowhere in sight as a cool breeze pushes you forwards. You linger behind Quinn as he impulsively hops onto Owen’s back, who stumbles at the sudden weight whilst Charlotte laughs at the unfolding scene. Nostalgia warms your heart at the sight, eyes half-closed and posture relaxing as the warm summer night holds you close and kisses your worries goodbye.

An arm drapes over your shoulders, your slow strides matching up with Connor’s as he looks to you, smile small and earnest as he playfully challenges, “Since when did you know about dolphin propaganda?”

You gasp, humour shaping your lips. “Well, you’ve been in my ear most of my life yapping about it, so…”

“Hey, I’m just saying - was I wrong?” the smirk on his face attests to his unwavering confidence and as you catch a whiff of his woody cologne, you roll your eyes in defeat, smile still on your lips.

“Considering you wore a shark tooth to school, I didn’t think so.”

You have to bite back the wide smile that fights to spread across your face, a few snickers here and there escaping before the loose ring around your shoulders closes in, Connor smushing your face inwards against the strength of his bicep. You can’t help but laugh throughout, swatting away his pesky grip that lasts no longer than a few seconds before all you hear is the echoes of your winded chuckles. In an effort to stabilise yourself from the momentary loss of oxygen, your hand seeks Connor’s, holding onto his larger and warmer as your feet hit the pavement in unison.

“Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?”

You let your head fall to Connor’s shoulder, arm wrapping around his lower back as your steps sync with such ease. A lightness in your limbs and how perceptive you can be to the sounds of downtown - car horns, hushed chatter and the like - let you know there’s nowhere you’d rather be right now than here. Back at home, with your best friends and your partner in crime who you answer in the form of a hum.

Your first few days back in the Pas are slow and uneventful, most of your time spent decompressing from the taxing semester and unpacking your items, all of which you didn’t know just how much you possessed. In an effort to make the most of the sunshine and get out the house for reasons other than your part time job at the local diner, you sign up for community gardening activities and ask the groupchat if anyone wants to come along. Everyone appears to have plans, except for Connor, who in the early hours of the next morning, picks you up from your childhood home and drives into town where for the next few hours, you’re knee deep in dirt under the blaring sun as you plant various kinds of greenery to spotlight the natural beauty of your rustic town.

What is certain, when early afternoon pours in, painting the sky in shades of honey and tangerine, you’re exhausted beyond belief. You have no idea how Connor makes the drive home, yet he does and when you two collapse into the hammock in your family’s backyard, your lips are slack and echoing more yawns than you can contain.

“That was great and all, but that’s knocked me out,” Connor groans, limp body shuffling in the confinements of the cotton hammock hanging off one of the trees in your backyard. The same tree which holds the treehouse you and Connor partially lived in throughout your youth. “That was more tiring than hockey practice.”

You’re tired and easily distracted, your head perched up in a way that puts the treehouse in your direct eye-line. “Remember when we’d watch movies in that treehouse?”

A brief pause follows, occupied by the tranquil chirps and running water from the nearby bird bath. “Yeah, I’d always wanna watch Jaws but you wanted to watch Disney movies.”

You give him a laugh, shuffling yourself in order to get comfortable in the small space. Why did you two think this would work like it did ten years ago? The thought occurs to you, but you brush it off to save yourself additional mental load, making the adjustments to cater to some form of comfortability in the tiny space. Even if that means sacrificing your shared personal space as your body overlaps onto Connor’s strong and firm one.

“Says the guy who knows the all the songs in Lemonande Mouth,” you counter, “And, Let it Shine.”

Without missing a beat, in his sleepy voice, Connor replies with, “kissy kissy, Roxanne, did you miss me?”

Groaning despite the snickers slipping past your lips, you bury your head into Connor’s chest, refusing to hear the rest of his ramblings. “My girl is hotter than your girl, you know it! You know it.”

To get your point across, you unbury your head, wide eyes peering up at your best friend who’s so amused by this all, hair messy and smile stretching from ear to ear. A bright sight. “Can you not?”

“You’re just hating 'cause I sing better than you.” He follows that by sticking his tongue out at you, so mature for his age that you grant him the response of a heavy sigh and an averted gaze, settling back into the peace and serenity of your backyard.

However, the silence doesn’t last long before you’re speaking again.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you observe, fingertips dancing along Connor’s nape as you absently fiddle with the long strands of his hair, silky between your fingers. “You should let me cut it.”

“Name a time and place, and I’ll be there,” he mumbles sleepily against the crown of your head, soothing you further towards a serene sleep. “Unless you fuck it up. Then, I won’t forgive you.”

You give him the satisfaction of a laugh tucked away in your chest, the ghost of a smile dissipating as the aches of a hard work’s start to plunge their teeth into your flesh and bones, body like cement as you sink further into the comfort of the hammock, into the comfort of your calm summer afternoon.

“One of my friends from my team’s supposed to be coming up for a night or two,” Connor croaks, voice hoarse and the gentle breeze of the summer’s day pecking your skin in an act of love. “Think…you’ll all get along with him quite well.”

His point is punctuated by a tired yawn that proves to be contagious as you mirror the action moments after, eyes unbearably heavy as time moves slow like molasses, body further sinking against Connor’s. You don’t even stop yourself from falling asleep, only blinking away the exhausted sting in your eyes to answer your best friend.

“Can’t wait,” you mumble, adjusting your body against Connor as your limbs slot together like puzzle pieces, matched at every curve as slumber envelopes you two in a kind embrace. “It��ll be good - the visit…and the rest of summer.”

Your words trail in a drowsy daze, tone doused in sleepiness as your eyes can no longer keep themselves open, glimpses of hickory branches and pear leaves wishing you peace and serenity as you finally fall asleep.

Your shift at the local diner passes without as much traffic as expected, local patrons ordering their usual with a few tourists dropping by to try the culinary experience of your average but nostalgic diner food. Due to how quiet the establishment is - Mabel, your boss and long-time owner of the diner - lets you off early and with a hug, you scurry back to your family house to get ready for the night's events. After dozing off with Connor in the hammock out back, your mother softly awoke to you with a holler she’s used since the dawn of time.

“Up and at ‘em, kids. Dinner’s ready!” in the distance of your dreams, you hear your mother yell.

With drowsy film still coating your eyes, you and Connor manage to dislodge your limbs from one another, sleepy smiles and croaky chuckles exchanged as you amble inside your house and Connor stays for a filling homemade meal that everyone at the dining table fawns over. Connor hangs back as you venture into the kitchen to wash up, a tradition you two have forged, him washing the dishes and you drying them. Not much dialogue takes place between the two of you and there is no need. For all the instances where you believed the need for conversation, you appreciate this silence so much more - how there’s no urge to talk for the sake of talking and how much comfort there is with simply just being with Connor. After you’ve done the washing up and Connor’s hugged your mother goodbye, fist bumping your father hilariously enough, he’s climbing into his car and wishing you well.

“You sure you don’t need me to pick you up from Mabel’s?” coaxes Connor, the wiggle of his eyebrows offsetting the echoes of titters that leave your lips.

“I’m good, thanks. Need to shower and get ready, anyways,” a gentle gust of wind blows, fallen leaves scraping against the cement of your driveway. “We all know how long that takes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Connor simpers, says like it’s the easiest thing in the world and like it doesn’t demand for the city of butterflies within you to soar beyond their ability.

You flash a strained smile, giving the top of Connor’s car a pat as your posture straightens and you step away from the vehicle. “Goodbye, Connor.”

“See you soon.” and just like that, he’s gone with the wind, taking a little piece of you with him.

It’s when you’re strolling your way back inside the house, halfway up the stairs to your bedroom that your mom gives you a gentle call, beckoning you back down the stairs to find her in the dimly lit living room, mahogany reading glasses hanging low on the bridge of her nose whilst the quiet snores of your father and his baseball game fill in the background noise.

She folds her newspaper, crinkles running up your spine as she addresses you. “So good to have Connie over, makes me miss him more when he’s away.”

Connor is like a son to her, the better part of your childhood glued at the hip whilst your parents cooed and awed at your loyalty to one another. He helps around the house with no complaint nor expectation of compensation, buys her favourite flowers every Mother’s day with an additional heartfelt gift come her birthday. He listens, he jokes and he cares. What more could she ask for?

“Can’t imagine how much more you miss him whilst you’re away.” she comments, throwing her denim clad leg over the other, directing all her attention to you, swaying between two feet with your hands behind your back, sceptical.

“Well, we try to meet up when we can, so it’s not too bad,” your hand goes to scratch the back of your neck, chin jutted as your head leans to the side. “…Is that why you called me down?”

Awkwardness rarely rears its head in your household built upon openness and unconditional love, which is why the unspoken truth your mother struggles to vocalise raises a red flag, your skin prickling as you fiddle with your hands behind your back.

She’s looking at you now, a maternal love in her eyes as she speaks up. “Maybe, I can’t really put my finger on it, really. I did, however, want to say that I hope you guys keep each other in your lives, however that may pan out in the future. There’s a special happiness in your eyes I want you two to be selfish with.”

It’s a small thing, she says. A snowflake amongst the pile of snow in the realms of your mind, but as you lay in bed later on that late afternoon, staring at the gold stars Connor helped hang up in your room, your mind wanders places it never conceptualised. Inserts Connor in places in your life where he hadn’t been previously - opposite you illuminated by a candle-lit dinner, dancing in a kitchen as you prepare breakfast and kiss each other in between, above your bare body as he holds you in the palm of his hand like you are the most precious thing the universe has gifted him. It’s a point in time that despite busying yourself with dipping your toes back into your hobbies - heck, even walking your next door neighbour’s golden retriever to clear your head - it never quite leaves you, awakening something deep and dormant in you that never goes away.

Snapping out of your syrupy daze, you adorn yourself in your finest line dance clothing, slipping on your gingerbread cowboy boots before you’re tying bows in the pigtails of your hair. Your mother yells down the stairs for you and you leave in a flash, kissing her goodbye as she drops you off at Punch and Judy’s, your jewellery clinking together as you walk through the main entrance.

Much like your first night back, the bar is illuminated in dim light and sharp LED lights of varying colours. Cowboy hats dominate the sea of customers, the building crowd of the bar dressed in shades of denim and tired leather cowboy boots. Knowing the others have already arrived, saving a spot at a nearby booth, you decide to make your way to the bar first, ordering your signature berries-flavoured cider, to which Punch (co-owner) makes quick work of, the cold beverage in your hands before you can blink.

“Beer not to your liking, sugar?” A smoky, mellow voice grabs your attention.

You spare a glance at the source of the gravel voice, eyes long lingering as they capture the image of a face that stirs a flip in the pits of your stomach. The man stood beside you braces his muscular arms against the hickory brown of the wooden bar, his sleepy chocolate eyes trained on yours as he takes a swig of his tequila flavoured Desperado beer. Locks of umber messily cascade along his face, unless tucked away in his vintage black cowboy hat that ties together the rugged cowboy look he presents with the sweet addition of his light stubble. To make things worse, he’s stupidly fit, his black t-shirt clinging to the curves of his muscles like second skin. If it were up to you, you’d-

“Like what you see?”

The smug comment snaps you out of your hazy olge, a pout forming upon your lips with an accompanying knit in your eyebrows. You make a point to angrily grab at your pint glass, ingesting a big gulp of the sugary alcohol whilst the rugged cowboy laughs to himself.

Even his laugh is attractive. Sick bastard.

“Coming from a man drinking a Desperado? Funny,” you have to laugh at whatever lame attempt of making conversation this man is pulling, Punch masking his misplaced laughter behind a cough as he polishes a pint glass. “How flirtatious you are.”

You admit, your latter remark is more bark than bite, a quick chirp that refuses to feed his ego yet grab his interest all at the same time. The ruse proves to work in your favour as the sexy cowboy gives another one of his huffed laughs, his body turned towards yours.

“Give me a chance, sugar. Just tryna start the night off right,” he counters, so brazenly confident in himself that you don’t know whether to laugh or shy away from his prying eyes. “Tequila beer and beautiful company - sounds about perfect to me.”

You react in a juxtaposition, eyes rolling and cheeks flushing as you divert your line of sight away from the handsome man flirting with you at your hometown bar. Perhaps, he’s some city folk travelling through the town, fancying himself a good time at Punch & Judy’s weekly hoedown Fridays, a little bit of flirting on the side to inflate his ego and keep his blood pumping. Whatever reason explains his presence, you are not one to complain. Your love life isn't very entertaining to put it mildly, so you're willing yourself not to get swept up in his caramel eyes.

Against the wishes of your quickening heart, you decide to give Mr. Handsome Traveller the time of day, body shifting as you face each other finally. “You don’t quit, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow your way, something sneaky and sugary in the lines of his smile. A brief pause follows his actions, the soft rustic sounds of old town country murmuring from the jukebox nearby filling up in the space between your figures. It’s when he’s about to make yet another cocky comment that your conversation is put on pause.

Connor’s voice calls your name, head turning to find your best friend standing in between you and the Punch & Judy’s cowboy of the night, eyes wide and expectant as they shift back and forth in the middle of your standing figures.

“Dew, forget about Desperados tonight. The lady in bows will have your head otherwise.” Handsome Traveller nods his chin towards you, humour dancing in his smile as he snickers into his half-full glass.

Then, it dawns on you. Dew? One of the handful of nicknames Connor’s adopted over the course of his livelihood. So, they’re acquaintances? Or closer? Your eyes frantically search for social clues to point you in the right direction.

“The lady in bows is my best friend,” Connor explains, a bite to his words as his eyes glare a knowing look at Sexy Cowboy. He then goes on to face you, gaze softening almost immediately as his head tilts in his friends (?) direction. “This is Brandon, or Dewey One.”

Oh. Makes sense, you rationalise. This is Brandon, Connor’s close friend and teammate on his current team out in Minnesota, the one who gets into fights he can’t win on the ice whilst Connor trails nearby picking up his fallen gear. The one he told you a couple of days ago that was coming up to visit. And, of course you were flirting with him.

Of. Course.

“Dewey One?” you ask, minorly deflecting from your embarrassment and still genuinely curious.

Connor inhales, as if to speak but Brandon beats him to it.

“Brandon’s just fine,” he interjects, expression unassuming as Connor’s eyes put his visiting friend underneath a microscope. “Nice to meet you, darling.”

Normally, you’d wrinkle your nose at the sometimes sleazy pet name Brandon casually calls you, except this time round you find it more amusing than cringe-worthy, which is how you find yourself grinning as you two exchange a handshake that testifies to how strong Brandon is. You clear your throat to stop the circus unfolding within you.

“Come on,” Connor gestures over to you to follow suit. “Can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

You call out an agreement over your shoulder as you go to grab your drink, the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as a close whisper brushes past your ears.

“I ain’t no quitter, sugar.”

The next couple of hours are spent packed into a crimson leather booth that peels at the ends, going from topic to topic over many a pints. Brandon fits so easily into your group, his infectious energy illuminating as he takes up space without regard, his confidence more enticing than suffocating. Everyone seems to be in good spirits as the alcohol keeps flowing and as you sit back, careful eyes watching your friends engage in conversation, you wish for this to be your forever for as long as you'd like for it to be.

A nudge against your shoulder turns your head, greeted by Connor’s sage eyes. “You ready for Judy’s Line Dance?”

His rhetorical question draws a laugh from you. “You say that like I don’t do this every time I come back.”

“Yeah, but if you were ready then, you would’ve brought your cowboy hat,” comments Connor, his veiny hands grasping gently at the ends of your braided pigtails accented with a bow. “What? Wanted to show off your pretty bows?”

He thumbs the ends of your hair, engrossed in the strands and its feel and for some reason, the casual intimacy of the moment inflates something in your chest, a balloon about to burst as you forcibly breathe in and out, clearing your throat afterwards. “They're my favourite accessories.”

Connor huffs, corners of his lips lifting gingerly as he continues his motions with his hands whilst your body remains rigid with the exception of your racing heart and crimsoning cheeks.

Your mother has definitely planted a seed you cannot unroot.

“Yeah, you’re almost always wearing them in your BeReal. posts. They’re real cute.”

For a fact you know so well, Connor’s confession comes as a pleasant surprise, one that shallows your breaths and quickens your pulse. It makes you reflect back on before, when all was platonic and the comment wouldn’t have made you bat an eyelash. Now, your skin tingles and you’re struggling to find the words to encapsulate your affection past your dry mouth. So, like many others in your position, you settle for a safe reply.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” you roll your eyes, brushing off his grasp because you might combat otherwise, projecting your attention ahead of you to come face-to-face with Brandon, who despite the engaging conversation he shares with Owen, his eyes skirt over to you.

You look away, even more flustered than before.

It’s just your luck when you hear Judy’s tap incessantly against an old microphone that you have something else to hold your focus, eyes brimming with glee as she announces the dances for the night and their updated partner songs. Last time you were here, they were still playing their beloved country hits and you danced along thanks to the amounts of alcohol you consumed, but their new playlist of pop hits within the past decade or so, you’re more motivated than ever to tear apart the dance floor.

“If you ain’t shy to do a little two step, please make your way to the dancefloor please.” Judy grins into her mic, tipping her cowboy hat as patrons make their way over to the illuminated space.

Connor makes way for you to exit the booth, your boots hitting the ground as you iron out any kinks in your outfit. Amidst your actions, you catch other movements out of the corner of your eyes, to which you find Connor playing with the ends of your bow this time round. There’s always been something so sweet and tender about him - in the way clouds are amongst a blue sky, in the way laughter spills over so easily in the presence of a found family and in how harmonies make you feel as if you're floating. But, it’s never been like this before, this intense and vivd. In a way that rids you of all thought and scares you beyond your deepest fears all at once. You’re still finding your footing in this new territory, a plain that speaks to the existence of your feelings but has no road nor destination. It’s a simple plain you seek to find some end to, picking up clues along the way that predetermine what the future holds. At the beginning, the animosity scared you pale and grey. Now, the end is what grasps your fear in a fierce chokehold. To pry yourself from the jaws of unhinged anxiety, you allow yourself to relax, to seep into the present and take it for what it's worth because the end is unknown and you’re not there yet. Not by any measure of time, you hope.

“Kick butt out there, rockstar.” His big smile deepens the soft lines of his face, a pure display of pride in his features as he gives you a pat on the back and gives way for you to shine.

It’s small, insignificant in the grand scale of things, but your smile deepens too and you nearly float to the dancefloor, adrenaline rushing through your body as the DJ prepares the upcoming music.

As you settle in line, you feel a light pressure lay upon the crown of your head, eyes darting to find Charlotte in the line next to you, giving you a wink before she faces forwards, thumbs slotted through the loops of her flare jeans. Her straw cowboy hat no longer, you reach up to find said object upon your head and with a chuckle behind your hand, your thumbs hang on your belt loops and let the music guide you.

It’s only when you’ve done your first turn that you realise that Brandon has also decided to join the line dance, huffs of amusement sounding from you as he glides and slides with a confidence dusted with his normal dash of comedy.

When Judy announces it's time for the partner dance, it’s your cue to catch your breath as you plan to evacuate the dancefloor. As mentioned earlier by Charlotte, the pretty sandy brown haired man who’d bought her a drink earlier in the night circles his arms around her waist as she gives him a smitten grin. You beam at the endearing sight, about to make your way towards your booth but are stopped in your tracks as a calloused hand clasps around your wrist.

Brandon’s expression is more sheepish than you’ve ever seen, his eyes distracted as they wander away from you. You raise an eyebrow.

“Who says the night has to end here, sugar?” His voice trembles partially, its edge lost in the coyness lining his smile as he finally looks at you with a dazzle of hope in his eyes.

A momentary pause delays your response, the moment used to turn the cogs in your head and sneak a glance back at your booth, where Connor was last you saw him, eyes trained on you as he simply watches the interaction. Under the weight of his gaze, a creeping sense of embarrassment climbs up your back, scolding the skin. You’re about to give your reply when the music starts up and Brandon speaks again.

“Put this desperado out of his misery and allow me this one dance?”

It’s so cheesy, maybe even idiotic - the words he proposes to you but he’s trying and that’s what appeals to you most, warms your heart and sways your response as you send him a nod that has Brandon cheesing ear to ear, his hand leading the way as you two fall in line.

You haven’t had much experience line dancing with a partner, the closest experience to this being a night you barely remember, happily back sliding with a fifty year old local in your college town bar who wanted to feel young again. Regardless of the fact, there’s no time to mull it over as the music already starts and your fingers are interlocking, matching up with the rest of the duos as you dance, cowboy boots stomping as you make a scene.

In all the commotion of heavy stops and ongoing thumps of Rihanna’s ‘S&M’, Brandon manages to catch your attention, mirroring your movements to a tee.

“You and Connor don’t do this much, do you?” he queries.

“You kidding me? Connie has two left feet, I’d be left for dead if it wasn’t for Charlotte.” You yell over the blaring upbeat country music, arms extended as Brandon glides you further away from his figure.

“Good thing I’m here tonight.” jesters Brandon, and you laugh along because you’re tipsy and having a lot more fun than you imagined.

Despite your familiarity with the dance routine you two execute to a tee, you’re caught off guard when Brandon brings you inwards, bracing you against his hard chest before his arm circles around the circumference of your lower back, holding you steady as he dips your body slightly. Your foot is kicked out, your (Charlotte’s) straw hat’s fallen to the scuffed dancefloor and you’ve just had the wind knocked straight out of you, eyes feverishly searching for answers as the bar falls to a hush.

You’re looking in each other’s eyes now, chest heaving and high off the adrenaline pumping through your veins from all that dancing. All time ceases to exist and it’s just two of you, sharing laboured breaths and looking for any cues for how this will end. It appears as if you’re in your own head at this point, combing through a thousand possibilities all at once to respond however you see fit. Thankfully for you, Brandon breaks the silence.

“One night and one night only.”

The sentence sends shivers down your spine and you’re pretty sure Brandon feels you quiver in his arms as he gives a brief chuckle, hauling you up onto your two feet and bringing you back to reality. You don’t really find their footing after that.

The rest of your time at Punch & Judy’s passes by in a flash, more pints being consumed over your group’s loud chatter as the night stretches on. Charlotte and her blue eyed companion indulge in another dance before he’s whisking her back to the bar and paying for everyone’s next set of drinks - bless his heart. He introduces himself as Jack, a new face in town and as he and the boys exchange pleasantries, the wild eyed non-verbal dialogue you engage in pieces together Charlotte’s sentiment and if it isn’t enough, when Jack makes his departure, she gives him a kiss on the cheek and bides him a coy farewell, a promise to meet in the next coming days on her tongue. One thing is certain, when Jack makes his exit from the bar, the door shutting behind him, you’re yelling and shaking each other’s shoulders in glee, stupidly happy and sharing that with one another.

Your table has their last drinks and before you know it, you’re being squeezed into the back of Owen’s pickup truck, sandwiched between Charlotte and Connor whilst Owen and Brandon sit up front. Over the murmured sounds of slow alternative music, you get bits and pieces of their conversation, the two excitedly talking about their shared love for Legos and the most they’ve splurged on one set. You shake your head with a laugh, going to share your merriment with Charlotte, only to find her soundly asleep, a light snore bypassing her punch pink lips.

“How you holdin’ up, champ?” Connor’s low voice draws you in, a slight head turn in his direction. “Don’t think I’ve seen you dance like that since we were ten and begging our parents to have a sleepover.”

The image is so vivid in your brain, two wide eyed kids that held hands as they begged and pleaded to have a sleepover, only for their polite request to be refused. Taking matters into your own hands, you dragged your parents’ big hands into the living room, where in front of them and an oblivious Connor, turned on MTV and danced to some popular song of the time. Lucky for you, it worked. Unluckily, Connor would hold that over your head forever onwards.

You’re cringing into your hand, face mangled in discomfort as you wish away the reality of you doing that away. “One of us had to convince them. Plus, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I can’t argue with that,” Connor laughs behind a fist before his hand falls to his side, a moment of quiet between you two. “You and Brandon seem to be hitting it off.”

A single eyebrow raises to express your confusion, perplexed frown prominent not because of his statement which is completely true, but because there’s an edge to his voice - something unfamiliar and cold in the way he says his words - a tone you’ve yet to hear, even after all these years. Uncertain how to proceed, you choose to be cautious about the matter, selecting your words carefully.

“He’s nice,” you state, because Brandon is but something in you twists uncomfortably, feels the recognizable pangs of embarrassment as you’re subjected to uttering this out loud. Or rather, in front of Connor. A betrayal of some sorts. “You were right about him fitting right in with us.”

There’s a strange shift in the air in the backseat of the car, the once peaceful quiet now becoming increasingly heavy and awkward as your words hang in the air like knives. Connor absorbs your words, stare averted as he watches his fingers fiddle with the lock of the door on the windowsill. You run your palms against the material of your denim shorts because you don’t know what to do with them otherwise.

It’s only when you’ve scratched the back of your neck, eyes stiffly roaming the interior of the car that Connor replies. “Yeah..I guess I just didn’t know how well.”

You’re about to ask him what he means by that, going to press him but Owen’s suddenly shut off the truck, his blinding interior lights turning on and him killing the ignition, alerting you of your arrival. Connor climbs out before your vision reverts back to normal, so you put the matter on pause and softly wake up Charlotte who sheepishly wipes away dried drool at the corner of her lips and climbs out the pick-up with you. You’re about to shut the door behind you, though someone beats you to it.

“I got it.” Brandon’s husky voice sounds from behind you, the slam of the door following.

You send an appreciative smile his way, perhaps a bit of timidity mixed in there too, turning to include Charlotte in any possible conversation to come, only to find her halfway up the porch stairs of Connor’s house.

How is it always the two of you left alone?

“Let’s head in, it’s chilly out here.” suggests Brandon, you falling in line with his request as the beginnings of goosebump dot your arms, the roughness of your skin hitting an all time high as Brandon’s large hand falls to the small of your back, guiding you up the stairs into the cosy and quaint house.

Hums of conversation lead from the back porch of Connor’s house, the presence of your friends known as you wordlessly navigate your way through the halls of Connor’s house, hallways and framed pictures you’ve committed to memory. When you’ve made your way to the kitchen, you find Owen nursing a cool bottled water, hair tousled and cheeks dusted in pink.

“There you two are,” announces Owen, fingers threading through the waves of his brown hair. “Everyone’s out back - apparently, Quinn’s out back too.”

You waste no time beelining for the backyard, the sudden weight of your reality dawning on you the second you stepped through Connor’s doorway, a cold shower of water easing you out of the mirage you’ve impulsively floated in. Once you’re outside, the cool air sinking into your skin, you spying the usual suspects - Quinn, Charlotte and Connor gathered together around a fire Quinn boasts about making. His glee is short lived.

“That boy scouts training finally coming in handy, huh?” Charlotte banters, a suppressed smirk sneaking amongst her features as she takes a seat in one of the camping chairs surrounding the fire.

“You laugh now but when you need someone to tie an impossible knot and survive off the land, don’t come running to me.” responds Quinn, taking a swig of his beer as Charlotte holds her hands up in surrender, laughing regardless.

You’re about to turn on your heels to head back inside, retrieving a beverage of your own, but a familiar call of your name is stopping you in your tracks.

“I’ve got your cider here,” alerts Connor, expression indifferent as he approaches you to hand off a can of your favourite berry cider and a bottle of water. “Blankets are on the chairs too.”

It’s embarrassing how much you want to melt into this man’s arms right now. Nonetheless, for reasons you know all too well, you express your gratitude in a toothy grin that he mirrors with a closed mouth, pulling you down into the camping chair beside his.

Soon enough, Brandon and Owen are sitting round the fire too and your night ends like this, light-hearted discussions under the stars as the heat from the open flame soothes your heavy eyelids closed. Whilst you’re mildly awake, you don’t miss the glances you and Bradon trade over the sandstone fire, loaded questions in his eyes. Had this been any other occasion, any other person not linked to Connor, any other reality where your current feelings didn’t exist for Connor, then there would be no questions asked, blossoms of wine doting both your necks come tomorrow morning. Alias, these were not the conditions and simply lounged in your camping chair, hoping Brandon didn’t look your way every time Connor’s hand would play with the bows in your hair.

Arm hanging out of his shiny porcelain white pick-up truck, Brandon squints as the rays from the blistering sun reflect into his eyes. Having said their goodbyes earlier, Connor and Brandon dab each other up with good-natured smiles before Brandon throws his focus over to you, standing with a bit more awkwardness than you’d like.

“Take care, Lady in bows,” Brandon says, a well-mannered nod sent your way with a closed mouth smile. “Don’t give Dewey a hard time. He’ll come round.”

For a split second, you’re eyeing him as if his face contains all the answers, but when he gives you that knowing look, the same one Charlotte and your mother give you any time Connor’s name is mentioned - you know. Know all too well and blush as a result, head snapping behind you to see if Connor’s within earshot. Thankfully, he’s in the middle of chatting with his brother, hands in his pocket as Quinn points off into the distance. You circle back to Brandon, the apples of his cheeks clear as day as he snickers like he’s been told a secret.

It’s as if this best kept secret brings you infinitely closer, your walls falling as you begin to bare the depth of your sentiment surrounding Connor. There’s no more beating around the bush, so you lower your head as you kick at the rocks at your feet. “You think so?”

You hate how small your voice comes out, meek and questioning everything known to man. It’s unfamiliar and not to mention, uncomfortable in every aspect of the word. Alias, Brandon sees you - catches the vulnerability you’ve shared with him and embraces you with a kindness that ushers a relieved sigh from you as he responds back.

“I’d bet my NASA Space Shuttle lego set on it.” Brandon banters, smirk soft and small.

So, he’s serious. Very serious, it seems because you know how treasured the item is to him. You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“Thanks, Brandon,” you breath, coyness coating your cheeks as your hands fall behind your back, your fingers tangling. “Don’t go fighting no alligators.”

“We can only hope,” Brandon gives his side-door a smack, rounding up everyone’s attention. “I’m hitting the road, fellas. Enjoy the fair for me, yeah?”

A chorus of agreements go off from behind you before Brandon gives one more salute, speeding off into the canary yellow sun. The small crowd outside Connor’s house disperses and regroups again later on that day, refreshed and ready to attend the local fair held every summer and the highlight of the year.

The fair lives up to its expectations, grand and joyful with a variety of rides ranging from teacups to a catapult-like ride that swings back and forth and then upside down. You’re distracted by all the colours, the sights and sounds that you’re so oblivious to what goes on right before you, until your vision is shrouded in black and your face is submerged in fluff.

Retracting, you blink your eyes to adjust to the change in lighting, lips parting as you stare at the massive latte-coloured teddy bear that Connor presents to you, the rest of your friends nearby taking their turns at the darts board way ahead of them.

He must see you struggle to find the words, his grin infectious as he jests, “I think I’ve finally out-conned the concessionaires.”

You must look like an idiot, or a deer in the headlights as Charlotte jokes, disbelief strikingly apparent on your face as you reach for the souvenirs, the fluffy animal so cosy in your arms and melting your heart into a big puddle of goo. “Thank you, Con.”

“Don’t mention it.” a smile plays tenderly on his lips, the sheer kindness he captures in his sage eyes enough to make your pulse race and head spin.

After the thoughtful gesture, your high spirits cannot be tamed as you indulge in every little thing your heart desires - laughing a little harder, smiling a little wider and stuffing your cheeks full of hearty food that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Charlotte basks in your glee, speaking of a glow you radiate as she snaps photos of your stuffed cheeks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she hands you your teddy bear once your food is finished. You don’t reply, exchanging words through your glances as you make your way towards the second bit of rides the boys want to try.

“Wait, isn’t that…?”

As Quinn’s voice trails off into the distance, you find yourself turning in the exact direction where he directs your view, eyes landing on a pair of figures - one being Connor and the other being, Amelia, Connor’s ex-girlfriend from high school and most notably, his last girlfriend. Her waves of blond hair glisten in the sunshine, something like a Renaissance painting. Her smile bright and wide as she greets Connor with an enthusiastic hug, a hug you feel lasts longer than necessary.

They then go on to immerse themselves in conversation, and for the life of you, you can’t look away - pry your jealous eyes away nor dry swallow this bitter pill because she’s still so into him. Hands familiar and all over him, leaning in when she gets the chance and beaming like she’s won the lottery. In all fairness, her life’s been such a tale - excelling academically, incredibly driven in all sports and other extracurricular activities that garnered her attention. And such a kind spirit too, always there to help no questions asked that it made you physically sick that you could foster any ill feelings towards her, because she’s such a light and maybe Connor would see that too. As he did when they were together.

You’re too busy losing yourself in a sea of self pity that you don’t notice Charlotte's attempts to snag your attention nor other things at first, your illegitimate fears getting the best of you but as your posture stoops, your eyes floating everywhere around the busy fair that it pauses on Connor’s figure. Once immersed in conversation, he appears distracted, indifferent somehow as his attention wanders, wanders over to you as his line of sight floats over to you from time to time as the conversation stretches on. At first, you think it’s your mind playing tricks on you, feeding into delusions that’ll soothe your pity party, but at some point, he holds your gaze, giving Amelia a pat on the back before he’s jogging over to where your friendship group is, not even uttering a word as he slots himself between you and Owen.

“What was that about?” Quinn just has to ask.

“Oh, Amelia just wanted to catch up,” he sounds distracted, his mind elsewhere but you don’t dare to indulge, your sight directed elsewhere as you grip onto the plush teddy bear as if it were a lifeline. “She says hi, by the way.”

You don’t do much listening after that, tuning out all the colours and sounds of the fair as you ride the highs and lows of what your life has become.

A sense of urgency plagues you from that day forth, a hurriedness in your actions as your anxieties get the better of you, going from lounging around in day old pyjamas covered in crumbs and mystery stains to getting a head start on your master’s personal statement and running every errand you’ve been procrastinating. Your parents swear you’ve become a different person - venturing outside the house before noon to visit the bank to change your address or go get your car serviced. Perhaps seeing Connor with Amelia was the jump start you needed to stop relishing in instant gratification, distracting yourself from facing any sort of music that pertained to the future and all its question marks. You still hang out with the others, more so Charlotte as you spend a few afternoons at the lake with one another, feet dangling into the water as she updates you on her adventures with Jack.

It’s the first time someone’s pursued her with such sincerity and charm that she’s hesitant about his authenticity. And yet from the sounds of it, Jack doesn’t mind one bit and shows his patience as they get to know each other, the smitten man taking your best friend on dates that further solidify their connection. You couldn’t be any happier for your best friend, this kind of treatment a long time coming, all of which you express just to see her blush and dive into the cold lake water to avoid further talks. You chase after her, teasing her mercilessly as the thoughts still linger at the back of your mind - your own sentiment with regards to Connor and what has come from the change of heart.

Emotional anguish and so much fear you’re not sure what to do with yourself. It takes a week of mulling things over, his missing presence due to off-season hockey training for you to make up your mind, peeling into his driveway and hiding your apprehension behind a strained smile as he greets you at the door. You preoccupy every bit of silence with running chatter, because you don’t want to hear yourself think, a multitude of topics discussed over vodka pasta you make together before you’re finding your way into his bedroom, the early evening sky greeting you as he flicks on his buttermilk bedside lamp.

He brings out his guitar, the same one you gifted Connor two years ago at the height of his newly-found hobby and plucks the strings, creating a melody you compel yourself to relax into, somehow ending up sandwiched in between him and the guitar as he directs your fingers to play one of your favourite songs, just because.

Apparently, your shaky hands don’t make for good playing material.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, you cold or something?” notes Connor, his looming presence over your body sending you into overdrive, your skin feverish and mind imploding from overwork.

“This is different.” you annouce, because it is. Unlike times before, it didn’t mean as much to be alone in his bedroom with him, getting glimpses into the life he’s lived and who he is as a person through all his possessions. You could handle the casual intimacy - the soft spoken whispers, the unprovoked kindness, the skin to skin contact that didn’t send your heart into a series of flutters. Now, all you can do is bat an eyelash, many at that, and this you must make known. For the selfish reasons you can think of.

“What d’ya mean?” he mumbles, clearly distracted and known the wiser to his breath fanning over your neck, goosebumps rising against your skin as your body grows rigid against his.

So acutely aware of your proximity, of the bursting feelings that thud at the confinement of your chest, your thoughts scatter like glass. “This, Connor. Being like this…with you.”

That strikes a chord with Connor, his motions ceasing altogether as his hands drop from the guitar and you’re forced to face the music. Sink your teeth into this undeniable truth that’s followed you all these years and you’ve been too blind to see. Confront the holy truth that maybe there was more divine work intertwined in your story with Connor, that maybe the universe wrote you two as one heart as opposed to two. That, as the summer days ticked by, the sun seeping into your skin, your love grew for Connor like molasse - slow and thick and palpable that once you were aware of its existence, that’s all that consumed you. Coated in his syrupy love, an endless desire.

You’re facing your best friend in spite of the hellish screams in your mind to play this off as some random mood swing, a joke even, because laughter follows you two everywhere, right? But, you know. Know better than anybody else that Connor knows you, like the back of his hand. Sees right through any charade you may jester him with, so any attempts to divert the conversation are as pointless as anything. Your confession starts and ends here.

A flicker of concern mixes in the dark of his eyes, hands clasped together with a crease in between his eyebrows. “I don’t follow.”

A full body sigh draws out of you, shoulders sagging and back curving, your hands casting aside the acoustic guitar with caution. You’re back to staring at each other, in the silence of the night, caged in between four walls that burn your eyes white as you once again grapple with your innumerable feelings and the finality of it all - this longing.

“Don’t you think,” you croak, question in your eyes as you look up at Connor, stifling any rise in emotion within you. “-this summer has been different?”

His sage eyes cast away, pink lips settling into a pout as he racks his brain for whatever answer you may be looking for. “No? Maybe? I don’t know.”

He adds on, looking back at you as he leans closer without fault. “Is this because it’s your last summer before you graduate?”

Connor’s got a point. When you’re trying to kid yourself into not having romantic feelings for your childhood best friend, your mind wanders to places where it has more control. Plans for after college, what modules you’ll be taking, what societies you want to join, what last things you’d like to cross off your list before you’re forced into full fledged adulthood. It’s a thought that lingers ever so presently at the back of your mind, like background music stuck on loop, but ultimately, Connor has missed his mark and you tell him so.

“Partially, but,” you wet your lips, struggling to find the words again as the burn against your cheeks proves to be insufferable. “This is what’s been on my mind more than anything else.”

Your point is accentuated by your single finger gesturing between the two of you, a poor attempt at best to foster some sort of confession of your romantic feelings. Because it's so scary, lending these thoughts your voice because they become much more real, spoken aloud for his ears to hear and his heart to see. For his heart to feel and what then? What awaits you once your confession reaches his ears? The unknown is scary, chilling to the bone and you wish to shroud yourself from it as long as there’s daylight.

There’s a beat before you hear Connor’s voice again. “What about us?”

Hearing him vocalise those three words makes the moment so real, so vividly intense that it sends chills down your spine and slows your laboured breath, the thump of your heart all you can hear aside from the ticking clock against Connor’s bedside table. It ticks and ticks, signifying the curtain call to your summer long charade.

“Connor, I..” It’s as if the magnitude of your feelings have manifested into some beast, with razor-like fangs and sharp claws that slash at the confinements of your chest, the words of love dying on the tip of your tongue as the moments hangs over your head like a gauntlet. You’ve never been so scared before, driven nearly to tears as your desperate hands grip at the material of your hoodie to ground yourself in some sort of way whilst you try to push yourself. To see this through until the very end and leave the destination unknown.

“We’ve been friends our entire lives. I don’t know anything beyond being with you and I never wanted to, and I feel like that means so much more than it did years ago,” his eyes are on you, undivided attention served on a silver platter that you turn away from, for its sincerity and shine. “Maybe, I did know deep down inside what I know now all those years ago. Like when I cried and begged for you not to leave the Pas. Or when you held my hand any chance you got when we were kids, or anytime you smiled at me really that let me know I always liked you. Maybe, even love you - I don’t know. But, what I do know is that I just couldn’t leave for Calgary without letting you know. Even if that means…”

You don’t have the heart to utter your next words, a dagger to the heart at even the possibility of losing your best friend and partner in crime. Perhaps, it isn’t worth saying - this whole grand love confession because this is a risk you’re not ready to face. However, despite your thundering heart against your bruised chest and however many times you’re second guessing yourself here, the weight lifted from your words is undeniable. An unspoken truth that had been set free, that needed to be set free - whatever the fallout may be.

A snicker snaps you out of your deep seated fears, your scattered daze settling on the view before you, one you had least expected. Connor, eyes cast away from yours as he huffs into his hands, a laugh you’re undecided where it derives from.

“…Are you laughing at me right now?” You feel awful for even asking such a ridiculous question. At the same time, you’ve just been as vulnerable as you’ve ever been in your entire life - some hesitancy is to be expected.

At your question, Connor’s huffs of delight cease and stares at you at alarm, realising his mistake. “God, no. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“You used to rub dirt on me, and now you're proclaiming your love for me,” an airy laugh puffs out of his moving chest, a mixture of disbelief and amusement painted amongst his chiselled features. “It’s a bit of an adjustment.”

He seems…happy? Relieved? You’re not really sure, but what you at least find peace in is that there’s no sunken look about him, no expression worn that conveys disappointment and hurt because that’s all you’d have to see to know where his heart lies.

“Good or bad?” you ask.

His eyes bounce back to yours, those same olive eyes you’ve spent years looking into, glimmer with a sparkle that you’ve yet to see and robs you of rational thinking as your heartbeat picks up the pace.

“Good,” he whispers, like it’s a secret for just the two of you - one that is small and fragile, but so special and cherished that it makes your heart squeeze. “Because, there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Not by a long shot.”

You swear you could cry, burst like a dam and drown in your tears that overflow with such joy and relief because this is it for you. So right and settled, being where you’ve always meant to be - so loved and treasured by the one person who knows you better than yourself, someone who’s seen you at your most awkward and at your worst, and loves you because he has. Because he’s seen it all and wants to spend the remainder of his life doing so, a conscious choice he makes everyday because he loves you and you love him.

You’re unsure how you’ve ended up like this, limbs curled up in your lover’s lap as he cups your cheeks, rough thumb caressing the skin as his love shines through his gaze that blows his iris’ out of view. He looks so beautiful like this, unabashed and vulnerable, secure in love and what destiny holds for you. He looks at you as if you colour his skies and spin his world round and just like that, you lose yourself in him. Thread your fingers through his strands of umber brown and kiss him like you mean it. Kiss him long and hard, and with everything you have because it’s long overdue, so needed that you melt into him, lips overlapping as you taste destiny on his tongue.

The story of you and him, a tale as old as time.

#connor dewar x reader #connor dewar #connor dewar fic #cd24 #minnesota wild #toronto maple leafs #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #connor dewar fluff #dewey 2 #brandon duhaime #dewey 1 #dewey #residenthughes

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blackopals-world · 8 months

Text

Motherly Advice

Angst to hurt your feelings

Malleus: Do you think you will ever stop loving Lilia? Even when he dies?

Celestial!Yuu: My dear, a time like that will never come to pass. Because even in death he will be with me. One of those perks of my being. Though we will be saddened to not all be together at once.

Malleus: But what if that wasn't the case? What if he died and you have to live without him?

Celestial!Yuu: Then I would still love him. I will love his memory, the joy we shared, and the precious treasures he gave me. When I look at you, Silver, and Sebek I will see him. In your movements, your expressions and hearts he will be there.

Malleus: And you won't love anyone else?

Celestial!Yuu: That is a heavy question. An answer I can't predict. Lilia and I are mature adults. We understand what obstacles we could face and have discussed them. But that isn't something for you to ponder. You do not have the maturity to understand that yet. Malleus I know this is about that human you've developed feelings for but I will tell you now to be careful. Lilia and I can handle anything right now but it isn't easy. Love is complicated and I know you don't want to hear that but you need more than love to make things work. Love alone isn't enough, even true love requires work and effort. Malleus you have a long life ahead of you. Longer than any human. You must weigh the risks of this fate.

Malleus: Mother, it's fine I understand.

Celestial!Yuu: No, you do not. You have yet to grasp what love really means child. I understand your loneliness and your desire to hold on to the one person who treats you as a dear friend without fear. But, love that does not make. It is like that of a child holding onto a comfort blanket and refusing to let go. You know that human desires to return home yet you'd consider keeping them with you. You both will be miserable when they die of old age and never see their home again. We have filled your head with too many tales.

Malleus: Mother, I know I love them. They will be happy with me. Lilia agrees! He said I should marry them. Do you not like them?

Celestial!Yuu: Just the opposite. I care for them as my own. That is why my heart breaks for them. Lilia and I aren't in agreement on this matter. He has always been shortsighted and seeks instant gratification. That is how we go Silver after all. But I look at the big picture. Malleus I'm a goddess. I know how the human feels. I know they have feelings for you but more then that they are full of grief and longing for their home. That is something you can't change.

Malleus:...

Celestial!Yuu: Malleus I am your mother and I know what you're thinking. And no. You can't use Magic to stop them.

Malleus:Mother don't you want me to be happy?

Celestial!Yuu: Not at the expense of others. We raised you better than that.

Makleus: What can I do?

Celestial!Yuu: Think. Consider what you really want and if this is real love you feel or just infatuation. Tying both of you down in something you may not want ultimately will only bring pain. And be honest with your answer for your sake. I want what's best for you.

-later-

Malleus: Your wife said not to listen to you.

Lilia:(shrugs) She's probably right.

Malleus: How did you get her to marry you?

Lilia: Tricked her with a convoluted bet. I think there is a myth about it now.

#celestial!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #malyuu #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader

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hero-deserves-to-be-happy · 1 month

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What Hero's Attempts to Comfort Sunny on the Night of "Two Days Left" Tell Us About His Character

Hi Hero Enthusiasts, let's talk about one of the only times Hero talks about himself and his grief in the entire course of the game...

It is easy to see this as just usual, selfless Hero being in-tune to others' emotions and trying his best to help any way he can. On the surface, Hero appears to be well-adjusted and at a sense of peace with what happened. When he reassures Sunny that Mari "would always want [them] to be happy even if it was without her" thereby encouraging him that it's okay to move forward and find healing, the player of the game believes him. Arguably, even Sunny believes him to a certain degree, but the real question here is: does Hero believe himself?

Let's Discuss Under the Cut...

(Warnings: OMORI spoilers. Heavy themes including death, grief, depression, and guilt).

It really says a lot about Hero that this scene is one of the only moments he talks about himself and his grief in the entire course of OMORI though it makes sense in the context. Being such an empathetic person, Hero could probably fairly easily pick up on the fact that Sunny was thinking about Mari in the piano room in the middle of the night, so, of course, he would start talking about her in attempt to comfort him.

However, it does beg the question: is it deeper than that? Is Hero so quick to put this together because that's what he, himself, was doing in the piano room in the middle of night? If Hero was there to grieve Mari, it would make sense that he so easily jumped to the idea that Sunny was there to grieve her as well, but he immediately stops everything and pushes aside his own grief and his own feelings to try to comfort Sunny.

On that point, it is clear from the context that Hero is only sharing what he thinks will be helpful or comforting. He says "It has been hard for me too" to show empathy, to try to tell Sunny that it's okay that he still misses Mari and that he isn't alone in missing her. He expresses his own complicated feelings surrounding how (he believes) she died, but he ultimately reassures Sunny that Mari would want them all to be happy even in a world without her thereby encouraging him to find healing and to move forward.

There is a painful irony in hearing this from Hero knowing that after losing Mari, he curled in on himself and spiraled into a deep depression that was all-consuming and that the survivor's guilt almost destroyed him. He just shut down and stopped living until eventually, he threw himself in his school and extracurricular activities, always striving to stay too busy to fall apart. Even his choice to pursue a degree in medicine will require years of school with long hours of study and clinicals, then residency, and eventually work itself. As a doctor, Hero can really just hide in his busyness, and that's really all he seems to want anymore.

Though Hero would be the first to wholeheartedly insist to Sunny that Mari would want them to learn to be happy again and that they can find healing and move forward, the truth is that for Hero himself time stopped when Mari died. Life stopped. All of his dreams for the future died with her, and given his survivor's guilt, he honestly thinks that's what he deserves, regardless of what Mari would have wanted for him (but that's a topic for another discussion). For now, to summarize, there is something so lost and listless about Hero in the Real World after Mari's death. He doesn't really know what he wants out of a life without Mari besides not hurting anyone and staying so busy that he just doesn't feel anything anymore.

But despite his best efforts to remain completely numb to it all, that grief and that pain inside of him doesn't go away, and no matter how hard he may try to push it aside, it's still there. He has just locked it away, brushing it under the rug or slamming it behind the door--whatever it takes to be able to function and not drown in it again, because (as the end this scene itself ultimately showcases), Hero is still overwhelmed by it all.

This is reason enough that he doesn't talk about it and doesn't want to talk about it, but arguably another, possibly even bigger reason is that Hero is terrified of being a burden on others. When looking at this situation from the outside, one would think that Hero would have a lot of support and understanding given that so many of his loved ones are also grieving Mari. Everyone grieves differently but there can be a powerful comfort in surrounding oneself with people who also experienced the same loss and who also knew and loved that person. This moment with Sunny could have been an opportunity for Hero and him to really empathize with each other over having lost someone they both loved (albeit in different ways), but Hero would never ever, ever even dream of talking about his grief with Sunny or with Basil, Aubrey, and Kel for that matter. He sees himself as their "Big Brother" and because of that, he feels he constantly has to push aside anything he may be feeling or may want for himself to take care of them. And there is an added problem here that he doesn't feel he has done a very good job of that.

He blames himself not only for Mari's death, but for Kel, Basil, Aubrey, and Sunny's pain as well. Their friend group is fractured--the day's events at the lake have proven that, and in a way, Hero feels like this is his fault. If he hadn't been so depressed and broken himself, he would have been able to help his brother and his friends who have always felt like siblings to him, but he was too weak, too helpless and now they're fighting amongst themselves and miserable.

He feels he has no right to talk about his problems with them, but the truth is, he feels he has no right to talk about his problems with anyone. And this goes back to his one (1) fight with Kel (which, honestly probably deserves its own analysis post one day). Kel was terrified to see Hero spiral into such a dark place and felt like he is losing his brother. When he finally confronted him about it, however, Hero snapped--finally crumbling under the weight of everything that has gone wrong and all the pain he has been carrying around alone. It was, arguably, the one and only time in their lives that the two had ever really fought, and it (most likely) remains one of Hero's greatest regrets. He now lives in fear that his relationship with Kel is permanently and irreparably damaged--that nothing he could say or do and no amount of apologizing could ever erase that distance between them. Hero is terrified that Kel will never really open up to him again and that he'll always feel like he needs to walk around eggshells around him. He is scared that Kel must think he hates him, and he can't bear the thought that it's all his fault and no amount of apologizing will ever make it right.

The whole experience leaves Hero broken and overwhelmingly guilty (even though no one blames him Kel least of all), and while he does come out of the worst of his depression, he is still depressed. He hasn't found healing and closure. All he has really done is gotten better at hiding how miserable he is because he is terrified of ever hurting anyone in the same way he hurt his brother. Vowing to never be responsible for causing pain to his loved ones because of his problems, he buries and represses his emotions and his pain--managing to hide them from everyone but himself.

This is made all the more apparent when, as soon as Sunny leaves, Hero breaks down into tears overwhelmed by his own, repressed grief.

From this incredibly vulnerable moment (arguably Hero's most vulnerable moment in the entire game), it becomes clear to the player that all of the "well-adjustment" and acceptance Hero had been displaying up until this point is, at least to a certain extent, for show.

Hero is not okay. He just wants everyone to think he is.

#omori hero #hero omori #omori sunny #omori #omori analysis #omori meta #hero character analysis #omori spoilers #thanks for reading

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writingwithcolor · 4 months

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Am I handling the black woman character’s murder well?

@selfdxd2 asked:

Hello! My current project is a crime fiction set in KY, USA in which the instigating action is the death of a young black woman (W), with the first half being another young woman (L) investigating her disappearance and how it correlates with the disappearance of her close friend. That friend (P) is later found alive after having been kidnapped because he witnessed the crime, and is the POV character of the second half. He is also a white man, and him being white is relevant to other aspects of the story. My intention is for the "credit" for solving W's death to go almost entirely to L (who is also a woman of color, specifically Romani), and for the tragedy to be centered around the unfair loss of life and the pain of her parents and others who knew W rather than how bad P feels about it. My main cast also has two other prominent black women with arcs that extend outside this tragedy. All of this is intended to lend to one of the story's major themes of social invisibility vs visibility. So does this exploration of that stray into harmful territory from the outset? I know successfully keeping away from any white manpain traps will take active caution while actually writing the story and I intend to get sensitivity readers as I work on it, but I wanted to get some feedback on my starting point before going too far down that road. Thanks so much for all you do!

It is important for us to know why this young Black woman was murdered to give specific advice.

Was it racially motivated, gender motivated, or both?

Wrong place, wrong time?

Did someone take revenge?

Was she involved in something insidious?

Was it truly an accident?

Depending on the reason, you should explore and acknowledge this violence and the existing societal problem behind it. For help, see the crime stats on violence against Black women.

…and for the tragedy to be centered around the unfair loss of life and the pain of her parents and others who knew W rather than how bad P feels about it.

Yes, give a voice to the people most affected by her death. Other Black women, people, and Women of Color. This will help further not make it about the feelings of a white man. He is absolutely a victim of the crime too, being kidnapped, so his trauma does matter and should be tended to. But ultimately, he gets to live.

On that note, his life being worth kidnapping vs. ending begs the question; why wasn’t he murdered while the Black woman’s life had to end? And for representation purposes, why couldn’t it be the other way around (Where the Black woman lives and witnesses the crime, and the white man dies)?

This is why knowing your reasoning for her death is so important.

Otherwise, if she was thoughtlessly murdered, it does feel like her life was incredibly devalued in your story due to her being a Black woman. It’s a serious and true problem, so I'm not saying not to write this. This just needs careful exploring. If you’re choosing to bring this real life problem into your story, it deserves full and respectful acknowledgement.

Please check out our resources on writing tragic material, Black suffering and abuse and avoiding exploitation.

More reading: tragedy exploitation tag

~Mod Colette

#Death #murder #tw #Black women #Black person dies first #Tragedy exploitation #Black suffering

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dyketubbo · 3 months

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forgive me if i lose tubbo character analysis points (rolls eyes heavily) over this or something but i honestly dont think the date was very ooc or that the frubbo romance is going to be played as something that makes qtubbo better. obviously qtubbo gained a lot of trust issues and lost a lot of hope in others + started to strongly believe that love only hurts after purgatory and the funeral. and hes an extremely defeatist guy at heart

but he also makes exceptions because no matter how much he tries to disconnect himself he still cares so so much about others. he has such a weird fucked up view of love and justifies seeing sunny as an exception by saying they wont hurt each other because their love is unconditional and yet he also claims empanada isnt safe when bagi is around because the eye workers will use that connection to their advantage And Yet he constantly looks after and takes care of sunny anyways. even though hes already mourning her before theyve even died. even though by his own logic it may be safer for sunny to not be with him

and like.. he says dont get attached empathy makes you weak but he tries to ruin fit & pacs date so they dont abandon him. he still jokes around with them and has happy moments with them bc ultimately theyre his friends and even if they dont Really understand what hes going through or what would help him they want to be there for him and make him happy and they Do make him happy. bc qtubbo doesnt spend all of his time with his friends whining and groaning about how theyre going to leave him some day and despite being suicidal and defeatist and at times a fucking jerk that isnt his whole personality

depressed people Have happy days. they have ups and peaks in their life and yeah actually many of them do manage to have nice relationships and theres a lot of depressed people out there who are fully capable of just. not being complete downers to be around all the time (cough a lot of comedians have depression cough). if anything i would argue it isnt just in character but realistic for qtubbo to be able to just. have a normal date where hes a bit of a loser and manages to get through an actual confession

and its not like hes going all in oh we're dating and we're going to get married now bc he doesnt even consider themselves boyfriends and he turns down sunny claiming fred as another parent. he just had a happy day and it boosted his mood a little. i dont think fred is really on his list of trusted people and in fact i feel like him just being very silly and awkward during the date is a Part of him not fully trusting fred or wanting to be super serious around/with her. i think to qtubbo fred symbolizes sure some pain from the whole funeral situation but also still a lot of happier simpler times and ultimately a time where tubbo was happier and openly hopeful

if anything, tubbos relationship with fred is another form of escapism for him. of course it isnt going to make him better. he literally brought fred to him and sunnys island where they plan to live far away from everyone to avoid their problems. its all a fantasy for him, and one that he isnt even allowing himself to fully jump into but will joke about and dance around the subject of nonetheless

#'the gay sex will make him better' 'the gay sex will make him worse' the gay sex is just another way for him to avoid his problems #ultimately the hope is still there in qtubbo. hes buried it down deep but its in there #let him have some joyous whimsy. the boy is barely serious about his own issues of course hes going to spend the date-#-making stupid minecraft pick up lines and being extremely awkward. what did you expect from him be fr #mask mews #should i count this as an analysis proper. i guesss #amaryllis analyzes #tubbo #fred qsmp #frubbo #qsmp #anyways qtubbo is bpd realness #having an fp doesnt solve all of your problems being in a relationship doesnt solve all of your problems #if anything the tunnel vision from having one is likely to make you ignore all your issues #bc you feel happy so you stop caring about working on yourself #if you even cared in the first place

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heavenlyhischier · 11 months

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idiots in love - dick grayson

summary: two people who are madly in love with each other but they're both idiots.

word count: 5.8k (lmao sorry)

warnings: lil angsty, cursing, steamy lil makeout sesh, unedited, cursing??

notes: hi hello hi! here is something that has been sitting, more like marinating, in the drafts for a hot minute. btw its not explicitly titans!verse dick, but he's hot so sue me

Saying that befriending Jason Todd changed your life would be a complete understatement. You had gone from being invisible and living under the radar in Gotham to earning an unwanted spotlight from being seen alongside Bruce Wayne’s son nearly every day. To make that matter worse, Jason had once conned you into attending a gala that Bruce was holding because “it is the only way he could manage to survive another one of these things”. That drew a lot of rumors and suspicions from the media in Gotham as they speculated the true nature of your relationship with Jason. That was also the start of a complex and hidden relationship with his older brother.

Dick Grayson remembered the first time that he saw you like it was happening right in front of him all over again. You were standing next to Jason in a floor length black dress that shimmered blue when the light hit it just the right way. You were, albeit unknowingly, wearing his colors next to his brother and it instantly attracted him to you. He could tell you felt out of place by the way your body was turned towards Jason and your eyes kept darting around you. Trying to get you away from Jason was a much harder task than he had anticipated, but what ensued once he had made it all worth it.

Meeting Dick was something Jason had tried to keep you from for as long as he could. He knew that Dick had a less than honorable reputation when it came to women, and you getting tangled in that web was the last thing he wanted for you. Despite his efforts, your attraction to the detective was stronger than he would have guessed and you managed to fall into the hole anyway. Jason, the ever so protective friend he was, tried to keep out of it, but his brother made that increasingly harder the more often you showed up at his apartment defeated and confused.

You had initially tried to keep your relationship with Dick a secret. You really did. But being friends with someone like Jason made that impossible. He was able to find out anything and everything he wanted. When he tried, and miserably failed, to subtly ask you if you were seeing someone he knew, you came clean about everything. You told him about how the night you met Dick, he had taken you back to his apartment and you two talked for hours and hours. Jason had been slightly thrown off that he didn’t try to sleep with you, but you assured him that that didn’t happen until nearly two weeks after you had met.

You also divulged the true nature of your feelings for Dick that night, and Jason had suggested that you tell him or it was going to ultimately cause you pain and heartache. “I tried to bring it up once,” You had said, “But he kind of shut it down pretty quick. Said that we’re just friends who hook up sometimes. He just- he acts like it’s more than that when we’re in bed and it’s so confusing, but I don't want to give it up. If that’s all I can have of him, I’ll deal.”

That was nearly four months ago, and nothing had changed. Dick would call you at random times day or night and you would go running every single time. It was pathetic how desperate you were to have a piece of him, but you were too scared to ask for more. He was too closed off with his feelings to ever let you get even an inkling of how he felt about you outside of physical attraction. Jason had been right about this bringing you nothing but despair. Nonetheless, you stayed at his mercy.

Your body was hot and sticky with sweat as you lay on Dick’s chest, fingers tracing along the scars that littered his skin. You often asked how he managed to obtain so many, but he, much like Jason, said the same thing every time. “Job’s just dangerous”. You’re not quite sure how being a detective and security guard would get one in situations to earn such wounds, though you never pressed too hard. His arm was tight around you, making sure that you stayed tucked into his side as his fingers delicately grazed your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind in their wake. Moments like these you both despised and cherished. They made your heart swell with hope and want, but they also made your stomach turn with uncertainty.

“You going to the gala tomorrow,” Dick’s asked, his grip slightly tightening.

You peered up at him through your eyelashes, “Yeah. Jay always makes me go with him since he ‘can’t handle it alone’. Are you, or do you have to work?”

Dick’s not sure why hearing that you would be attending the event with his brother hit him the way it did. It made his throat close up and his chest burn with jealousy. You had always attended Bruce’s events with Jason, and he knew that. He knows that it was purely platonic, but a part of himself couldn’t help but think there was something else there. He knows his brother is an attractive guy, and God you are the most beautiful woman to walk the earth. It only made sense for you two to be attracted to each other, and that’s what he has been running with.

“Yeah, I’m bringing a girl from work actually,” His voice was flat as he loosened his grip on you so that he was barely touching you now. It was a total lie, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

It was as if Dick punched a hole into your chest and ripped your heart out with his own two hands. Your movements froze as you blinked back the tears that instantly pricked your eyes, not wanting to give away the effect his words had on you. He was always good at reminding you that you were a disposable secret to him, but it hurt all the same every time.

Composing yourself, you flattened your hand on his chest and used it to push yourself up into a sitting position. You avoided looking at Dick as you slipped out of his bed and began putting your clothes back on. He watched you, trying to piece together what was going through your brain. He shamelessly wanted to believe it to be jealousy; that you detested the idea of another woman on Dick’s arm, but he knew better than that. He assumed you were in a hurry to get to Jason’s apartment, which is where he knew you went every time after you left his place. He had followed you one night to make sure you stayed safe, but he wasn’t prepared for his own heart to be put into danger.

That was the night he realized just how deep his feelings for you were, and it scared him to no end. He thought he was doing good at guarding his heart, but then he met you. You had effortlessly and entirely captured him. Dick craved everything about you. He craved your touch. Your smile. Your laughter. You. He would do whatever it took to have a part of you no matter how much it hurt him to know your heart would never belong to him.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” You spoke through the awkward tension in the air, “I should probably go home to sleep before tomorrow. Don’t want to look like a walking zombie, you know.”

Your idiotic attempt at a joke hung in the air as you slipped your socks on, and you mentally slapped yourself for saying that. Wanting to get away from the now uncomfortable situation, you rushed out of his apartment without another word to the man who held your heart in his hands. Typically, you would walk to Jason’s and mope about your unfortunate situation, but you opted to go to your own apartment instead. You made sure to let Jason know of your plans so that he didn’t quite literally break into your house to make sure that you were alive. His “u ok?” text went ignored as you fell into your bed and begged your thoughts to quiet themselves so you could sleep in peace.

You woke the next morning with a new sense of determination, and a little bit of retaliation on your mind. You quickly sent Cass and Steph a text asking them to come do some last minute shopping with you, which they were more than happy to agree to. They both met you outside of your apartment an hour later, questions tumbling out of their mouth as soon as they saw you. You brushed off their interrogations with a laugh and started towards the nicer part of Gotham.

“I thought you already had a dress,” Cass pointed as you walked into one of your favorite dress shops in the fashion district.

“I do, but I always wear some variation of black and blue and I wanted to switch it up,” You shrugged as you filtered through some of the dresses on the rack.

Truthfully, you knew that the colors you always wore matched the colors that Dick wore as well. It was something that he mentioned drove him crazy whenever he managed to pull you away to have his way with you. You started wearing those colors for him specifically, but something inside you switched this morning. Today, you were going to wear something else and prayed to anyone that would listen that it would get underneath his skin. You knew it was childish, but if he was going to bring someone else, you didn’t care.

The two of them shared a knowing look with each other before diving in to help you search. They were aware of your situation with Dick and how you felt about him, but unlike you, they could see the way he felt about you. They knew that if you showed up wearing something other than the colors he wore to protect the city, he was going to be absolutely furious. However, they secretly hoped it got under his skin enough to ignite the fire he needed to tell you how he truly felt.

You had gathered a decent amount of options, so you decided to move over to the dressing room area and try what you had on. You had tried on a variation of styles and colors; none of which you liked. The girls of course gave their honest opinions, and you got rid of the ones they made faces at almost immediately. Your last pick was a long-sleeved red dress with a slit on the right side and a plunged neckline. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but notice the way the color looked slightly off, but it still made you look damn hot.

You opened the curtain and slowly stepped out, catching the girl's attention. “Now that’s sure going to piss Dick off,” Cass laughed, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were missing something.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, but she’s right. If your goal is to make him mad, that dress will sure make that happen,” Steph agreed as she nudged Cass to calm down, “Is that what you want?”

“Honestly, I don’t really know. At first, yes, but now I just- I’m not sure. I don’t think he’ll even notice,” You sighed, casting your eyes to the ground as you lightly pinched at the satin.

“Oh he’ll notice alright. He might beat the shit out of Jay, too.”

Your eyes darted back towards them, wide and alert. The last thing you wanted to cause any sort of fight between your best friend and man you were in love with. “Why would he do that over a dress,” You rushed out, hands nervously gripping the fabric.

“It’s not the dr- He won’t, hon. It was just a joke,” Cass recovered as she glared at Steph, “I’m sure he won’t do that. You’re just going to look really good and he’ll probably be a little jealous is all.”

You ignored Steph’s quiet snort and went back to change, making the decision to go ahead and get the dress. It was as if it was tailored specifically for your body, and not getting it would almost be criminal. You knew you were going to have to dip into your savings a little to afford the dress, but the way it looked on you was worth it. Once you had changed and went to go pay, but there was a woman standing outside the dressing room with a dress bag.

“We paid for it,” Steph peeked her head around the woman, a smile beaming on her face, “And no you can not pay us back!”

After a failed attempt at trying to get the girls to at least take some of your money, they took you back to the manor to get ready with them. Cassandra called Bruce who had Alfred ready one of the larger rooms for the three of you to get ready in. Steph put on some music as you took turns showering in the biggest shower you had seen in your entire life. You had stayed in there a little longer than you intended, getting lost in your thoughts about Dick Grayson.

You could tell that the girls were itching to ask you about why your sudden change in outfit happened, but were keeping quiet in case it was too sensitive of a topic. It was clear to them that you were trying to get back at Dick, but they couldn’t figure out why. They were both capable of asking the right questions in order to gain the information they wanted; it was a practice they put into use nearly every day. However, they felt guilty using that skill on you.

The closer the time for the event to start came, the harder it became to breathe. Knowing that Dick was bringing someone else made your entire body ache as you wondered why you weren’t good enough. He had told you before that he never liked to bring dates because people would speculate, and he only wanted them to speculate if it were true. Now, he would mingle and flirt all he wanted, but he had never kept it to one person the entire night. This girl had to be someone special if he was okay with rumors flying around.

Nearly an hour later, the sound of someone knocking broke through the intense concentration you had from doing your makeup. Steph, who was already done getting ready, pulled the door open and Jason came barreling in. He was dressed in an all black suit, but the tie he was sporting was the same color as the dress you had bought today. You internally smacked yourself for not remembering that red was Jason’s color, and that’s why the girls said what they did about Dick.

“What do you want,” Steph huffed, quickly closing the door in case anyone passed by.

“I’m bored,” Jason groaned as he fell backwards onto the untouched bed.

“So go bother someone else,” Cass spoke over her shoulder, giving Jason an annoyed glare. If you hadn’t known anny better, you would have thought she was being serious.

“Y/N’s in here and she’s my friend so why don't you go bother someone else. Anyways, we need to be down there in like twenty minutes so you two better hurry.”

“I just need to get my dress on and I’m done,” You called out as you let the setting spray settle on your face.

You heard Steph whisper something to Jason, but you were too far away for it to be understood. You went back into the bathroom where your dress was hanging on the back of the door, leaving their whispers behind. Nerves spread through every inch of your body as you slipped the dress on, the urge to throw up growing with each second. A large part of you wanted to back out and just not go, but you knew that Jason would physically drag you if he had to.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you pulled the bathroom door open and walked back out into the room. Initially, Jason cast you a passing glance, but he nearly broke his neck swiveling back to you, sitting up so quickly the momentum almost threw him off the bed. The girls had the biggest smiles on their faces and you couldn’t help but blush at the attention.

“You’re right. He might kill me,” Jason laughed as he stood and strided over to you, “You look beautiful, but if you’re trying to get under Dick’s skin. I think you’re going to accomplish that.”

“Yeah, I didn’t realize we’d be matching. I wanted to make him mad, but I don’t want to make him think this is happening,” You gestured between you and Jason as you grimaced. The thought of ever being involved with Jason like that made you uncomfortable.

“You wish it was, sweetheart,” Jason rolled his eyes, “Why do you wanna make him mad anyways?”

“Uh, he uh- Fuck,” You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration as you let the truth out, “He told me he was bringing someone else and I know it shouldn’t be a big deal but it’s just- you know why it bothers me..”

The girls looked both confused and shocked, but Jason. Jason was absolutely fuming. He already hated the way his brother treated you, but knowing that he would do something that childish made his blood boil. He knew that Dick never brought a woman to any events because he hated the rumors that accompanied that, and if Dick was willing to put up with that just to spite you? That was enough to make him see red.

“Jason,” Steph tried, sensing that he was about to boil over.

You watched as the two girls shared a look with each other as Jason tightly clenched his fists. You felt guilty for making Jason so angry, but you knew it wasn’t you that made him mad. It was his brother and his idiotic behavior, but a part of you wished that you had just kept that to yourself. You knew that he hated the way Dick was treating you and this only added fuel to that already blazing fire.

“I’m fine,” He let out through strangled breaths, “I’m good. Let’s just go downstairs.”

Dick had been downstairs for the last thirty minutes, his heart beating harder and faster the longer he waited for your arrival. Bruce could tell that he wasn’t all the way there, but chose to not ask his son what was on his mind. In fact, he already knew the answer to his own question. Dick paced the floor, eyes glancing to the door every few seconds in case you chose to make your entrance then.

He was nervous to see you after what he had said to you last night. He had no intentions of making that lie a truth, but he still felt the guilt eating away at him ever since you had left. You hadn’t texted him when you got home, and you also hadn’t texted him all day. That was how he knew that he had struck a nerve, but he was still naive as to why. He had convinced himself that there was no way you felt the same way, so why were you suddenly so distant?

You had attempted to soothe Jason’s anger by telling him it wasn’t a big deal and that you didn’t care if Dick brought someone else, but he saw right through your lies. He curtly brushed your comments off as his eyes stayed set on the path in front of him; one thing staying at the forefront of his mind.

Your heart was bound to beat out of your chest the closer you got to the party, you’re sure of that. The combination of having to see Dick and Jason’s anger towards him was not helping ease any of your already bubbling anxiety. You wrung your fingers together as you tried to calm yourself down, but it wasn’t doing much. You wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave and pretend like nothing ever happened.

Steph and Cass kept glancing at you, passing you sympathetic gazes as they walked ahead. They could practically feel the nerves radiating off of you mixed with the pure rage off of Jason. It put them on high alert, and they knew they were going to have to keep a close eye on their brothers in order to maintain some sort of peace. A silent agreement was made to keep the two of them apart until Jason got his emotions in check.

“Jason,” You tried again as you entered the party, hand instinctively gripping Jason’s bicep “Please don’t do anything stupid. It’s fine.”

Several eyes watched as you descended the stairs on Jason’s arm and you knew whispers were being thrown around thanks to the accidental matching outfits. You had, of course, been seen with Jason countless times before, but now the public had all the proof that they needed to confirm the relationship they had created in their heads.

“I never do anything stupid, sweetheart. Everything I do is calculated and on purpose,” He teased, his anger fading for a fleeting moment.

Dick found you as soon as you stepped foot into the room, but he immediately wished that he hadn’t. Your dress was a deep red color that not only matched Jason’s tie, but the helmet that adorned his head as he prowled the streets of Gotham. Dick could feel any hope that he had shatter with each step that you took, and he hated himself for it. It was his own fault.

“Dick,” Bruce’s gruff voice pulled his gaze away from you, “If there’s going to be a problem-”

“There won’t be,” He interrupted before turning on his heels and heading straight for the bar.

Cass made a beeline straight for Dick while Steph stayed relatively close to the two of you. Jason had taken a glass of champagne from the first waitress that passed by, not even letting the poor woman get four steps away before he needed another one. Your hand stayed glued to his bicep as an attempt for comfort while also keeping him near you. Just when you thought you had grown accustomed to the scrutinizing stares of Gotham’s most elite, it was ten times worse now.

“Good evening Mister Todd,” A man you recognized from The Gotham Globe approached, his annoyingly bright smile plastered on, “I see we have made the relationship official?”

“Piss off,” Jason grumbled, dragging you away from the obnoxious reporter.

Stares lingered longer than usual and whispers were present anywhere the two of you went. You tried to tune everything out, but the ache in your heart remained. You had only seen the back of Dick as he spoke with a woman; you assumed she was his date. You barely managed to fight back tears, but the thought of Jason seeing them made it a little easier to control. Despite your current suffering, you didn’t wish him any harm.

Dick didn’t mean to find you every chance that he could. He really didn’t, but it was like his own subconscious was trying to torment him. Forcing him to watch you throw your head back with laughter as you clung to his younger brother. It lit the sort of rage within him that was different from the one he got when he was dealing with the scum of Gotham. This rage was based out of fear. He needed to get out of there, at least for a moment.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, Jay,” You had leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I might be a while, though. I just need to breathe for a little bit.”

You slipped your arm out of his own before making way towards the stairs. You had spent enough time at these events to know where and how to escape unnoticed. You were essentially being guided by pure muscle memory as you snuck into one of the rooms that was in an area off limits to guests. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you turned and leaned your head against the dark wooden door, letting out a deep sigh.

“Are you okay,” A voice you would recognize anywhere cut through the silence. You let out a startled yelp, opening your eyes to see Dick sitting on his old bed. You had, unintentionally, guided yourself to the one room you were trying to stay away from.

His eyes dragged over your body for the thousandth time tonight, but now he was able to really admire you. You looked breathtaking. Though to him, you always did. To him, you were the most beautiful woman to exist in any world, but he couldn’t help but feel annoyed. He had come here to escape the aching in his chest for a moment, but it seemed the universe wanted him to suffer.

“I’m sorry,” You finally managed to speak, albeit quietly, “I didn’t mean to come in here.”

“It’s fine. I was just leaving,” He avoided eye contact with you as he stood.

“No, don’t,” You rushed out, taking a few steps towards him, “This is your room. I’ll leave.”

The sound of your heels clicking against the hardwood floors made Dick look up and meet your gaze. Dick had spent countless hours observing you and getting to know each and every part of your body that he could tell you were nervous. He could sense the apprehension from the way you struggled to maintain eye contact to the way your fingers pinched at the fabric of your dress. He wanted nothing more than to kiss away any anxiety you had, but he knew he couldn't do that. Not anymore.

Dick’s hair was untamed in a way that looked as if he had been pulling at it, something you knew he does when he’s frustrated. His cheeks were tinged red and eyes slightly bloodshot and tired. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to reach out to him. To let him know that you were there, but you couldn’t let him back in again. You had endured enough pain from him.

“You look beautiful,” He quietly spoke, gaze unwavering.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes darted across the room, “Thank you. It was a last minute change and I accidentally ended up matching with Jason, which is only fueling those stupid rumors. I should have just worn the dress I originally bought, but I-”

“Y/N,” Dick cut off your rambling, knowing you would keep going until you couldn’t breathe, “You mean that you and Jason aren’t…”

Your gaze snapped to his own at the implication, and you could see the desperation and defeat swimming in his eyes. “No, Dick. No,” You squeezed your eyes shut as you shook your head, “Nothing has changed on that front, and it never will. But even if it did, why do you care? You brought a date.”

Your voice was thick with emotion as you mentioned his alleged date, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from brimming with tears. You hated that the simple thought of him with someone else made you break, but there was no stopping that now. He took a few steps towards you and took your face in his hands as you attempted to blink back tears.

“I lied,” He whispered, thumbs wiping away at the tears that managed to break free, “I never had a date. I only said I did because I was hurt and confused. I was hurt because I’ve convinced myself that Jason is the one that you want. That he’s the guy you want to be with; not me. I know that you spend a lot of time with him so I just thought...”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words settled; your skin burning in the places his fingers pressed against. You wanted to cling onto the hope that he meant that the same way that you wanted him to, but you’re scared. You’re scared to let yourself believe the one thing he had convinced you wasn’t true. Your eyes were a tell all for Dick, and he hated the painful look in them now. He could tell you were holding back, and he knew he was the cause of that.

“I don’t want to be with Jason,” You began, voice wavering, “I spend a lot of time with him because he’s my friend and he’s there for me. He listens to me and he comforts me because I’m an idiot in love with someone who doesn’t love me back.”

Every nerve in Dicks body was telling him to let you go. He would never forgive himself if someone were to find out who he was and used you to hurt him. Jason would never forgive him. Bruce taught him that keeping someone you love far away is what will keep them the safest, but what good has that done him? He’s a gloomy man who hides his feelings with a veil of indifference. A veil any person could see through if they looked hard enough.

His silence was unnerving, so you were quick to add, “Dick, it’s okay that you don't feel the same. I’ve known that for a long time.”

“I do,” He hurried as his fingers pressed slightly harder, “I love you, and that scares me in more ways than you could ever know. I thought I knew what it was like to be in love, but then I met you and I realized that nothing has ever compared to the way I feel about you. I look at you and see the rest of my life in front of my eyes. I can’t let that go.”

The tears you were desperately trying to keep at bay flowed down your cheeks as he confessed. You had been waiting to hear him say he loved you for so long that even now, it doesn’t feel real. If it weren’t for the pressure on your cheeks from his fingers, you would have convinced yourself that you were hallucinating. That he wasn’t truly there and the few glasses of champagne you had got to your head.

You lunged forward, quickly capturing his lips with your own. He let out a low groan as he dropped his hands to your waist, pulling you into his grasp. You knotted your fists in his undoubtedly expensive button up as the two of you kissed each other like your lives depend on it. Obviously, you’ve done this particular dance with Dick before, but this was different. This was the kind of kiss that splits the sky in two and opens it up to the heavens.

You can taste the alcohol on his lips as he gently turns and guides you backwards until the backs of your thighs come in contact with the obnoxiously large desk. One of his hands moves to fumble around with the various objects scattered across the desk. His struggles cause you to lightly break away and let out an airy giggle as he works to clear the top.

“I haven’t touched this thing in years I don’t know why there’s so much shit on it,” He mumbled against your lips, “Oh fuck it.”

He shoved everything onto the ground and hoisted you up onto the now empty desk, and you couldn’t help but throw your head back in laughter at how cliché that was. “Calm down, hotshot. You’re going to attract an audience with that noise.”

He gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his dark, lustful gaze, “Let them watch then.”

The pool between your legs grew, aching for any sort of friction to ease the desire that had blossomed inside of you. You were desperate for a release, so you pulled him in by the back of his neck and met his lips in a blinding kiss. Dick gripped the underside of your thigh, pulling you flush against his body. Your fingers pulled and tugged at his hair and suddenly he's kissing you harder with a fervent desire that left you utterly breathless.

“Dick,” You pulled away, “If you don’t stop kissing me like that, you’re going to have to fuck me.”

Dick was slightly stunned at your bluntness, but it just made him even more attracted to you; something he did not think was possible. “Not that I don’t want to, but I don’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you,” He whispered, his eyes dancing all across your face as if he was memorizing every inch of it, “Trust me, I really really want to. I also want to do things right with you and I know I’ve been fucking it up for the last few months.”

“Who knew you were such a softie,” You teased, “But now is not the ti-”

You were cut off by Jason’s voice bouncing off the hallway walls as he called your name. You instantly shoved yourself off of the desk and began to straighten your dress. Dick let you push him away from you, his heart constricting as he let himself go back to what he thought previously. You looked behind you and you could tell that he was upset.

“Hey,” You started, cupping his cheek in your hand, “Don’t do that. It isn’t like that at all, okay? I just know that he is extremely pissed off at you right now and I want to do a little damage control first. I promise you I will come over later and we can do whatever you want.”

“Can you stay with me tonight,” He pleaded, taking your other hand in his own, “Stay with me as my girlfriend.”

He felt cheesy saying that, but he didn’t care. Not when it came to you, and especially not when he got to see the most beautiful smile that came after it. You heard Jason’s footsteps getting closer, so you have Dick one last kiss before quickly leaving his room.

“Y/N,” Jason called out, “Were you in Dick’s room?”

“Can we go talk somewhere? I need to tell you something and I don’t think doing it in public is wise.”

let me know what you guys think! if you want, you can also send in some requests ;)

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #titans!verse dick grayson #dc imagine #dick Grayson imagine #dick Grayson angst #nightwing imagine #nightwing angst

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thelunarfairy · 2 months

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No matter what they say, it's a lunar rock

The metaphor between the lines, Amane finding a way and allowing himself to share his feelings through it. The intense and dominating desire to conquer the moon, to finally reach it. So painfully distant.

When he could finally be so close to it, when a fragment of the moon would fall in his backyard, then he had hope that this was a part of the moon, no matter what they said.

The moon, Tsukasa.

So unreachable, so distant, so mysterious. The moon, which sometimes has a side devoured by darkness, a side that cannot be seen without light.

So, the metaphor, the moon of Amane, the unreachable twin, who wants to be further and further away, as if it were impossible to reach him, no matter how hard he tries.

It will be?

There is still Tsukasa inside those dark eyes, he is there. That is Tsukasa, a fragment of the original, a piece of the moon, a part of Tsukasa that disappeared at the age of four.

And no matter how much they say that that's not Tsukasa, Amane will always believe that it's him.

"No matter what they say, we believe" no matter what they say, he is my brother.

But ultimately, it was like he knew it was fake. As much as he believed it wasn't, as much as he wanted it.

That rock wasn't a moon rock, and Tsukasa wasn't his brother.

That was what was in Amane's head, so young, so inexperienced in life, and even more inexperienced in the supernatural. He doesn't accept that this is Tsukasa, the younger brother who tends to abandon him and who used to do things with refined cruelty, we could assume given the younger brother's new nature.

Tsukasa is still there, he is the same, but he returned with a small surprise embedded in his chest, rooted and dividing decisions, influencing, killing. Does little Tsukasa live in the middle of chaos?

He is chaos.

Chaos in the midst of calm, opposites in every way. Tsukasa was the one who wanted to return with death embedded in his chest, he decided alone.

So, would Amane be in confusion, because death attracts Tsukasa much more than living next to him? Oh, painful.

It's painful to imagine that someone would rather die than be by their side, no matter how hard you fight for them.

Tsukasa was the moon rock, which Amane struggled to believe was the real thing, but after so many years, he decided to believe it was fake. It was easier, his brother would never do that.

Tsukasa would always be by his side, would always want to be saved by him. Where is Tsukasa?

When Amane gave Tsuchigomori the rock, he declared there that he was giving up believing that she was from the moon, he was giving up believing that the Tsukasa who was with him was the same one from four years ago.

Amane was the one who insisted on believing that he was the real one, even though everyone said he wasn't, but even he couldn't maintain his own belief.

He simply accepted that it was fake, that this was not his brother, and that he could never reach him.

In the same way he accepted that he won't reach the moon

He's not going anywhere.

Because he gave up everything.

Amane, that's still Tsukasa, and the moon can still be reached, just, open the windows, the two are waiting for you.

Allow yourself to dream again, because they have always been with you. They were always the real ones.

It's time for you to be too, use your words, they will take you higher than you managed to reach, they will take you to Tsukasa, and if you reach him, you will finally be able to reach the moon, after all, that's not it What does it represent to you?

The moon.

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #tbhk #amane yugi #hanako kun #aidairo #yugi twins #hanakokun #jshk spoilers #yugi tsukasa #tsukasa yugi #jshk amane #yugi amane #tbhk spoilers #tbhk tsukasa #tbhk manga #tbhk hanako

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daytaker · 4 months

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Sins, Virtues, and Motivations: A Critical Analysis of Characters in Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

In this essay, I will argue that each demon brother some of the demon brothers can be associated with a sin (no duh), a virtue, and a core motivation--and that this motivation is best pursued through a synthesis of that sin and that virtue. Hegel would be very proud. Yes, this is critical media analysis. No, I will not try to explain the twisted, broken path that led me to this point in my life.

I will be looking at Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi in this study. Their core sins are obvious - Pride, Greed, and Envy. Their accompanying Virtues and Motivations are listed below.

I used the Seven Heavenly Virtues for this little game. These are Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, Temperance, Faith, Hope, and Charity.

They should not be confused with the Seven Capital Virtues, which are inversions of the Seven Deadly Sins. These are Humility, Charity, Kindness, Patience, Chastity, Temperance, and Diligence. I tried these first and damn were none of them easy to match up. Tell me, fandom for this mobile game designed for players to lust over hot demon men, which brother should have the "chastity" virtue?

Lucifer

Core Sin: Pride. Core Virtue: Fortitude. Core Motivation: To protect his family.

Lucifer's core motivation is to protect his brothers. He looks at this as a sort of penance for the outcome of the Great Celestial War. He knows that he's the reason they rebelled, and he feels responsible for their wellbeing. He is able to endure the relentless pressure of the responsibilities he puts on himself thanks to his core virtue, fortitude.

Fortitude is strongly associated with courage. Specifically, it is courage in the face of pain and adversity. We see him displaying this trait any time those he cares for are in jeopardy, and it often helps him make difficult decisions where neither outcome is ideal. Lucifer is decisive, canny, and accepts the consequences of his choices, good or bad.

His driving motivation is also bolstered by his core sin: pride. He views himself as ultra-competent, while his brothers consistently make mistakes; beyond that, it's only natural that he take responsibility for the choices of his brothers (like the choice to join him in rebelling) because he is so significant an influence as to virtually rob them of their autonomy.

This has led to Lucifer having a somewhat toxic relationship with his brothers. Lucifer often acts as a parental figure rather than a peer, while the rest of them are all in arrested development of some sort, often acting more like kids than the adults they insist they are.

Lucifer either doesn't recognize that by doing everything for the family on his own, he's stemming their ability to grow and learn, or he does know the consequences of what he's doing and he feels conflicted about it. He ultimately blames himself for the fact that they're all in the Devildom in the first place, living as avatars of sins to the extent that they struggle to function as independent adults.

So, while fortitude and pride allow Lucifer to simulate the act of protecting his family, it's a matter of perspective whether controlling every element of their lives is protection or harmful coddling.

Mammon

Core Sin: Greed. Core Virtue: Charity. Core Motivation: To be valued and valuable.

Mammon is simultaneously a vessel of greed and its inverse, charity. This is because his core motivation is twofold, and those are the rewards of greed and charity; to be valued - to fulfill a want, to be desired, to look flippin' cool - and to be valuable - to fulfill a need, to have inherent worth, to serve a purpose.

Setting aside his unhealthy relationship with money, let's examine how Mammon behaves and what his deeper interpersonal motivations tend to be. He clearly places a high value on his brothers and MC, and he has shown on multiple occasions that he is willing to put himself at risk to help or protect them. Early on in both the original game and in NightBringer, Mammon attempts to heroically rescue MC (and his younger brothers, in NightBringer). In both cases, though, Lucifer shows up and does it for him. Mammon's pursuit of his core motivation clashes with Lucifer's quest for his, and Lucifer is strong enough to simply take it from him. Although in NightBringer he and his brothers do earn the not-insubstantial reward of the title "Lords of the Underworld" after Lucifer's rescue, he appeared so dejected by Lucifer's oneupmanship that he spent a good portion of the next day sulking. In the original game, Mammon wants MC to promise that they won't be saved by anyone else besides him in the future. It appears that his greed for an improved status in his interpersonal relationships is left unfulfilled.

Mammon wants to be heroic - to be valuable - and he wants to be admired for it - to be valued. The cognitive dissonance that accompanies motivations like these is all that sustains a person with such a diminished sense of self-worth.

Speaking of a diminished sense of self worth...

Leviathan

Core Sin: Envy. Core Virtue: Hope. Core Motivation: To find joy in the things that give him joy.

Confusing motivation? Yes it is. But envy is a confusing sin. All the other sins--pride, greed, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth--are enjoyable to indulge on some level. Losing your temper when you feel you've been wronged, or eating a bunch of delicious food, or sleeping through the snooze alarm: We know why we do those things. We might regret them later, but we indulge them in the moment because of the enjoyable side.

There is nothing enjoyable about envy. Wanting something that isn't yours, that belongs to someone else, be it tangible goods, talents, a partner, a job... is nauseating. And it makes you feel like a bad person, and it drains the joy out of things that you used to love. Speaking from personal experience for a second, when I was a teenager, I played music in a company with a much younger musician who was incredibly talented, and I was deeply envious of her. I wanted her talent; I wanted the praise she received; I wanted to impress people; I wanted what she had. But there was nothing I could do. I hated feeling that way, but I couldn't shake it. And it ate away at my desire to play music. It took the joy out of something that once gave me joy.

You see the connection?

Levi struggles to find pleasure in anything he does, despite how many interests he has, because, in spite of his blustering dismissal of all things "normie", he is deeply envious of those he perceives as his social superiors. Now, I am not in any way saying that Levi is or would be an inc3l, but there's an element of his character that has a strong parallel to inc3l culture. The idea that there is something fundamentally wrong with him that prevents him from achieving what he wants socially and that the only way he can protect himself from those who would ridicule him is with a defensive contempt for the group that rejects him... Does any of that sound familiar?

But Levi is not an inc3l. No, not because you're willing to **** him and his two *****, though I'm sure that helps. It's because he has his core virtue: hope.

Have you ever heard of the black pill? It's kind of like the final stage of inc3l culture, where you accept that you're not an alpha male, you'll never be one, you'll never be accepted by a woman, you're ugly and unloveable, and you might as well just stop existing. It is sheer despair.

Levi maintains hope for the future, even if he prefers not to admit it out of fear of jinxing himself. He is able to form a deep bond with MC, who he views as a "normie", without renouncing his hobbies or being mocked for them. In fact, I would argue that the anxiety Levi sometimes displays over the possibility of being made fun of (for example, in NightBringer when he considers trying out cosplay) is emblematic of the hope he has that he can be accepted.

"But wait, daytaker," you say. "That doesn't sound like he's making progress towards his core motivation of getting joy out of the things that bring him joy! Being self conscious is not joyful!" Well, you're right. What Levi needs is to somehow find the right balance between enjoying his hobbies and allowing himself to enjoy other people as well. As we can see from his effusive excitement in sharing his favorite games and stories with MC and his brothers, the social component of media consumption is a major component in making it enjoyable. If Levi loses hope, he loses that connection to the world offline, and if he loses that connection, he loses the joy.

@blackstqr (I did it.)

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starlettechild · 3 months

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Might I request Raphael (pining for Tav but unsure of Tav's thoughts on him) reacting to Tav, while visiting the House of Hope, taking what would have been a fatal hit from an assassin that was meant to end the cambion's life - Tav either pushes him out of the way or shields him with their own body. What is going through the fiend's mind and what does he do? (if you decide to do this prompt, please allow Tav to ultimately be okay despite definitively being dead weight/in critical condition at first... I love angst but can't handle sad endings 🥲)

Anon, I love this idea! This is so perfect and tragic. Thank you for this amazing request!

“𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶. 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂, 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓪 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓷𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓮.” - Raphael

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥ ◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

CONTENT: Raphael x Tav. Following the amazing requesters plot that is above! Tav takes a deadly hit for Raphael.

⚠️TWs⚠️: Injuries and blood, angst with a good ending. Raphael gets very angry and loses his shit. They/Them pronouns are used to prevent character dysphoria.

NOTE: Thank you all for the amazing requests! I’m going to get to all of them as soon as I can!

Raphael can sense his mouse in his home. Their steps feel like the lightest touches in the warded place. The irresistible pull he felt towards them is what brought him here. How could one resist, when they feel the one who plagues their dreams and waking hours in their own home? He sits with them now, eyes intently searching for any sign of returned longing in their eyes. He would let them know just how deeply they resided in his heart at the softening of their gaze, the feign in him be damned. The two sit, porcelain glasses in hand as they discuss the matter of the hammer and freeing Orpheus. He can sense the uncertainty in their voice, and it makes his skin crawl to know such matters plague their mind. He begins to wonder if he even is doing all of this for the crown, and it’s that thought that keeps him up the most.

They bring the glass to their lips and set it down carefully, turning their head from him and stopping mid-sentence. He can feel the edges of disturbance in his home, carefully sticking to the shadows, only the slightest tremor of a presence that has them both staring off to where they believe it was. But before Raphael can even act, the time only allowing for his glass to shatter against the floor, the whizz of an arrow sounds out, aimed towards his hellish heart. His mouse has always been quicker than he. They’ve always been more prepared to take action, where Raphael prowls slowly and circles his prey, Tav devours it before whoever it is can even rear its head at them. Perhaps that is why they are up before them, standing in all their glory in the path of the arrow before him. The sharp edge of it nestling itself in the center of their chest, piercing the beating heart that Raphael so desperately wants to feel beat for him. Time slows, and he watches as his mouse collides with the ground beneath them, a red pool beginning to form beneath them.

Something takes over every inch of him then. Something beyond rage and pain that reaches its claws out, engulfing the entire living room in flames. The fire surrounds the assassins in a burning spiral, furniture and paintings setting aflame themselves at the intensity of the burn. There is little direction to Raphael’s anger, but it has a goal. To destroy the ones who hurt his mouse, revenge on behalf of his own endangerment forgotten. His hurried steps walk through his own flame, edges of the doublet burning, and he doesn’t stop before he stands before the pair who entered his home uninvited, the crossbow abandoned on the floor, the flames consuming it.

Raphael can feel nothing but the anger that burns in him as he reaches out to tear these intruders apart. These pieces of worthless scum. They don’t deserve his blood, and never will they deserve the blood of his mouse.

“You will not take them. Not today, not ever. And I will fill the hells with souls who lay a harming finger on them with no remorse.” The words leave him, ripped from his heart and forged with the truth. His hands make quick work of the pair, and he doesn’t feel any remorse. Only satisfaction. Only the pride of eliminating those who think they are good enough to aim for him and watch his mouse take the hit instead.

The flames do not die down with their deaths. His pounding mind points him in the direction of where his mouse lies, their hands settling over their chest where the arrow pierces through them. They are moving. Alive, on the edges of death. But Raphael would not even let death take them from him. He rushes over, hands still dirtied with the blood of the assassins, and he kneels at their side. He’s never been a healer. He has never needed to heal. But now, every ounce of magic is called upon within him, poured into the body of Tav whose heart pounds slower with each second. Everything he has is poured into them. Each unspoken word of longing and devotion. He hopes it is enough.

He cradles their head in his arms as the blue glow encases their body, running his hand through their hair as a plea for them to keep breathing. To stay alive so he may see them another day. To stay with him. They stir beneath him, a slow exhale and inhale leaves their lips as their eyes stare up at him. Slowly, they lift a hand to touch his face.

Raphael hasn’t cried in centuries. Not since he was born and gasping for air. But now, he does. Tears leave his eyes and roll down his cheeks as he stares at them. With each landing they make on their loved features, he feels the grasp of death loosen around them, replaced by his. Their hand runs down his face, wiping the tears away slowly, a soft smile on their face, the blood fading beneath them. Their hand slips away from his face, beginning to pull at the arrow lodged in their chest. Raphael shudders with pure relief, the flames only begin to die down when his mouse moves. Perhaps this place would burn for eternity, if his mouse did not move again. Perhaps he’d burn with it.

With the arrow tossed to the ground, and the healing magic settling itself within their bones, they lift themselves from the ground, blood still staining their clothes. He helps them up, with a gentleness he never thought he could have. Folding his hand over theirs. When they stand, he finds himself bringing them into an embrace. He finds them embracing him back.

His savior, his mouse. The one he would burn the world twice for. His love.

“Thank the hells.” He whispers into their hair, and he can feel them weakly laugh. The smell of ash in the air, as the fires still completely, embers dancing in the still air.

“I love you.” Tav says, peeling their head from his chest, staring up at him before those wonderful eyes close, fainting from exhaustion in his arms. “I love you.” He says back, and the words leave him as a sob. A quiet confession against their resting form, as he carries them through the burnt boudoir, vowing to not leave their side until they grow tired of his presence, which he hopes they never do.

As he passes, he eyes the bodies of the assassins. Raphael will find who sent them, and he will make them pay for this. And he is sure his mouse will join him in the act, two unstoppable lovers who stand in the path of death for one another.

#bg3 writing #raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 angst #raphael angst #raphael baldurs gate 3

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codenamesazanka · 2 months

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Imagine being Shigaraki's friends and being told that the war ended. Heroes defeated Shigaraki Tomura - oh, but don't worry, they didn't kill him, they actually saved him! Stopped him from trying to destroy everything, rescued him from his pain; that lump of lead he spoke of, that spews out endless rage, so that he thought he would never feel good again - that's gone. He's okay now.

And while there will be undoubtably the disappointment from having lost the fight after all that, Shigaraki's friends - because they are his friends - think, well, at least Heroes saved him. Didn't just kill him off. Made an effort to stop him without dismissing his suffering; acted like actual Heroes and helped. Addressed his rage and despair. Despite what he had done, they still went and helped Shigaraki Tomura.

Plus like: Shigaraki Tomura told the League that he wanted them to live as they see fit; told them that they should get what they want in life, that changed world, a world that isn't so hard to live in. He promised that, he who gave them a place to belong; who took Twice in and trusted him, who avenged Magne's death and Compress' arm, who said it was fine that Toga didn't choose a Villain name, who treated them to sushi. Shigaraki, who had always accepted them, who fought for them. He wouldn't give up without surely having made some deal with the Heroes to change things.

His friends love him. So whatever happens, can they all see Shigaraki Tomura one last time?

Imagine being Shigaraki's friends and being told, well, actually. That guy doesn't exist anymore. Yeah. We turned him back into a five-year-old. Wiped his memory while we were at it. Of course that's saving him, we didn't kill him, did we? We turned him back to who he truly was, and it just so happened it's a five-year-old who hadn't been broken by the failures of society. (By the way, those failures still exist, but Tenko doesn't know about them. So he has hope now.)

Imagine being Shigaraki's friends and when expressing horror at this, get laughed at - what does it matter what Villains think? And not like they can do anything about it; or getting pity - well, the man they knew as 'Shigaraki Tomura' wasn't actually a real person. So maybe relationships they developed with him also weren't real or genuine. Everything was just ultimately manipulation; or being told they being awful for being horrified - we only purged the impurities that AFO planted in him. That it happened to include the struggles you guys bonded over, well. If you truly cared about him, you'll be glad he's wiped clean; and inevitably being told they will never see Shigaraki Tomura or Shimura Tenko again - you guys are still Villains. He's an innocent child. What connections do you have anymore?

Imagine being Shigaraki's friends and losing him, then still being told, no, Heroes actually saved him.

#the 'eri rewinds Shigaraki back into Tenko' theory is plainly awful #as is the conceptually related 'deku saves Shimura Tenko. shigaraki tomura who?'#nalslastworkingbraincell #this is okay if friendship is not an important idea in a shonen manga tho so

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bsd-fan · 10 months

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Chuuya´s analysis part 2: Humanity and contradictions

Stormbringer is by far the most important piece if we want to understand chuuya because this is the moment his view of life is challenged. We follow chuuya through stormbringer, we get to see how doubtful, scared and confused he is about his humanity and we also see a side of him that he constantly hides.

“I told you, Chuuya”

He looked up in the direction of the sudden voice. It was a familiar voice, one that belonged to the person he hated most in this world.

“Your birth itself was a mistake. We´re the same. Is there really a point to suffering through all that pain for a life that isn´t even real?” - Hallucination of Dazai. Stormbringer

Dazai and Chuuya constantly claim the hate they have for each other. A lot of that hate is because their history of them being assholes with each other, a lot of it is just posturing but a lot of it is because of this. They share the same problem but the way they face it is incompatible. Especially on chuuya´s side. During sb we learn that Chuuya /understands/ Dazai, not because he tries to but because deep down he thinks the same. But he /never/ lets himself think about this, because if he does he will drown and he can´t do that.

You can ignore most of this analysis because the only real important thing to understand is that chuuya is a figher.

That´s his core as a character.

Chuuya fights every godamn hour of every day. He fights with himself, he fights against his ability, he fights for his humanity, he fights for the people he loves, he fights when everyone already gave up. He has lost /so much/ through his life and never complains about it, he keeps going on because that´s what he was taught to do. He has gave up so many things. He can´t say that he is tired, he can´t be afraid, he can´t stop because he was conditioned to be the last man standing not matter what and that´s what he does. Because he has people he cares about and that depend on him so he can´t fall, he can´t ask for help and damn sure he can´t let himself sulk and think about the futility of all, he can´t go with dazai´s nihilistic mentality not matter how much of it he secretly shares because he can´t stop fighting. That would ultimately break him. Chuuya´s outwordly drive to keep advancing despite all the horrible things that happen to him is only possible because he never stops to think about this.

So in a lot of ways, Dazai is like a punch in the face. it´s his worse fears and hidden thoughts in a human form. Dazai, especially 15-18 year old Dazai represents everything he fights about himself. So yes, when I say that chuuya makes a constant, conscious effort to avoid understanding Dazai I´m talking about this (and that´s like half of it, because Dazai´s coping mechanisms also directly clash with chuuya´s whole ideology. Honestly is kinda impressive how Dazai manages to trigger chuuya to that degree)

Now, going back to the analysis I want to say that Stormbringer doesn´t really bring anything new to chuuya´s character, it just consolidates what was already there. It´s when chuuya finally realized something we´ve known all along and it´s because of this that he can finally solve his inner conflict.

“I can feel their lives burning right here, inside me, and till those flames die down. I can´t just do whatever I want. I´m gonna do what I need to. That´s who I am”- Chuuya, stormbringer

“-Why don´t you get it? There isn´t anything you need to do! Live how you want to live! Destroy what you want to destroy! Because there´s only one thing we needed to do, and that was to not be born!(...)

-Just shup up- Chuuya´s eyes burned with fierce determination. -Maybe that´s what you wanna do, but don´t shove your belief down my throat. Cause that ain´t ´t how I feel at all.

Several shadow ran thorugh the light in his eyes.

His friends in the sheep.

His friends in the Port Mafia.

The light in his eyes was determination. It was the powerful brilliance of humankind, something gaines only through encounters and partings with other people.

-You´ve been completely wrong from the very start- Chuuya spat in disgust- “Being born was a mistake”? Sounds like the kind of garbage Dazai would spew, and no way in hell am I ever gonna think the way he does!”- Verlaine and chuuya, stormbringer.

This scene is so important to chuuya´s development as a character because this is the first time he defines himself as an individual in his own terms and independently of his origin. He is a person, and he is the kind of person that will do what it needs to be done and he will do it for the people that is important to him. That´s simply who he is. That´s his identity as a human being. That´s why I get mad when people are fighting about chuuya´s humanity. Yes, at the end is really hinted that he is the original one but that´s not important. Because the whole point of the novel is that humanity is more than origin. It doesn´t matter if chuuya was born as a human being or created in a lab because at the end of the day he is human because of the ties he has with the people around him.

Different from Dazai, Chuuya gets this solution from existentialism. Existentialism is a form of philosophy that explores the issue of human existence. Existencialism basically says that purpose and meaning in life doesn´t come from external forces such as God, fate or a bigger power but instead is entirely determined by ourselves and that´s exactly what chuuya does. It doesn´t matter that life in senseless, it doesn´t matter if he was created only as a weapon, it doesn´t matter if he shouldn´t have existed in the first place. None of it matters. Because he is already here and he will give himself a purpose. And God, I´m gonna stop here to say that this is such a chuuya thing to do. He fights what everyone around him is telling him and he fights himself, yes, he may understand Dazai and verlaine´s nihilistic mentality but he ultimately decides to reject it. Chuuya will fight even the absurdity of life, in a way is fucking hilarious and as a Dazai kinnie I can wholeheartedly understand how this is so annoying for him. Because here we are needing sense, getting paralyzed because of the ucertainty of the world and just trying to keep living despite being constantly overwhelmed because the aburdity of all and then there are people like chuuya that realized the same thing but they keep going, people like chuuya that just push their way through life like it´s not a big deal, people like chuuya that never give up even when is the logical thing to do. And as maddening as it is, maybe this is the real reason why Chuuya is my favorite character, he can do something I don´t. His will to fight despite everyting? How he gets up every single time? is not something I can do.

Okay so sorry for the projection in the middle of it. Let´s continue with the analysis.

The whole point is that Chuuya doesn´t care if his reason to keep going is not trascendental, he doesn´t care if it´s illogical, he doesn´t care if in the great scheme of things it doesn´t mean anything. Because it´s important to him, it´s enough to him and that´s all that matters. Chuuya has people he loves, he has emotional ties with them and Chuuya clings to them with desperation because it is what impulses him to keep going. I need you to understand this, every single character is bsd have people they love and appreciate but for chuuya? it´s a whole different deal. They are so much more than that. They are not only people he loves, they are the direct representation of his humanity (which I remind you is the most important aspect of his characterization) he finds a purpose and a sense in this bonds, he finds an /identity/ thanks to this bonds. And that´s why he will do absolutely everything to preserve them. Yes, the biggest difference between Chuuya and kunikida is that when chuuya says that he will do what needs to be done, he is not talking about ideals, he´s saying that he will give everything of him for the people he loves.

Now, everything should be fine, right? Chuuya learns to accept his humanity to a certain extent, he gives himself a purpose, everything is /fine/ except it´s not and this lead us to the second and biggest contradiction about chuuya and this is which ultimately brings another thousand contradiction in his character: Nowadays his biggest conflict is not the original problem anymore, it´s the solution he gave to that problem.

And it´s the most tragic contradiction in earth because his relationships with people is what makes him keep going but at the same time it´s also what keeps him stuck (I´m discussing that later). And it hurts so much because yes, they give them an identity, a purpose but he also sacrifices /too much/ of himself in the name of this relationships.

He is conventionally brave, he is not like atsushi, he never hesitates, he never doubts but it´s not in a healthy way. Chuuya is not brave for the sake of being brave. He is brave because there was never another option to him, he doesn´t let himself feel afraid. During stormbringer he experimented more suffering than most of the characters in the story, he went against a giant beast, he was tortured, freakingg hell, his biggest fear all along was to discover that he wasn´t human but he decides to know because the flags investigated his past. He was terrified but he forced himself to ask because “I have an obligation to know for their sake” not for him, for the flags.

And let´s not talk about how corruption is his worst fear turned true, let´s not talk about how it represents the lack of humanity and how that may affect the character whose whole main arc revolves around seeking humanity, let´s not talk about how he goes against his worse fear once and once again to protect the city and the organization he loves. There is only one thing that chuuya wanted, all this time he only wanted to know if he was a human or if he wasn´t and in stormbringer he gave up even that. He decides to use corruption fully knowing that he will lose his opportunity to know and he doesn´t care if by doing it, he can save people.

He has a moral compass but he sacrifices it in the name of the people he loves. He cares about people but he also mass murder if that benefits his organization. He appreciates life, but he´s so ready to die and destroy himself if by doing that he can be useful for the people he cares about. His pathological loyalty is also explained by this, it doesn´t matter if they betrayed him or hurt him, he will still be there for them because he puts this relationships over everything. He even sacrifices his emotions, I´ve said it before but chuuya didn´t even let himself cry after he saw his friends in pieces because he put albatross needs over his own pain. He got into an organization he didn´t even wanted to be in because by doing it he could save the people that stabbed him in the back. To this day I´m haunted by the fact that in the entirety of stormbringer, chuuya only let himself be vulnerable once, he only screamed once. When he was being tortured, and in agony, he let himself scream but he only did it because no one there cared. If a person he loves had been there, then chuuya would´ve hold it in, he would never let himself cry because he will never let himself be a worry for the people he cares about. His whole ability is a reminder of everything he went through, of everything that makes him different, of all his pain but he doesn´t resent his ability because he can protect the people he loves with it, that powerful ability is just another responsibility he needs to carry. He is powerful so he needs to protect those that aren´t.

Chuuya is so selfless that it actually is a fucking flaw. From all the characters in bsd, he is the one who sacrifices the most and the craziest thing about it? He doesn´t even notice because in his mind he´s doing what needs to be done. In the CD drama he says to akutagawa that self sacrifice is a pathetic excuse for weak people but he does it all the time, except that he doesn´t think about what he does as self sacrifice, for him is just the natural thing to do. Chuuya constantly makes pyramids and he puts himself at the bottom of them. He is ready to give everything for the people he loves but he never expects the same of them. He loves unconditionally, but he doesn´t think that he can be loved in the same way. He needs to push himself, he needs to be useful.

“-Why- A flash of uneasiness briefly colored chuuya´s expression- Why would you go through all this (...)

-It´s nothing particularly serious- Said Lippmann. Baffled by chuuya´s reaction, he eyed the rest of the group- If we had to come up with a reason, though...it´s because you´re our friend. Were things different in the sheep?

They had been. That was what Chuuya flustered expression was saying. Everyone in the sheep depended on him. The contrary was unthinkable”- The flags and Chuuya, stormbringer.

Chuuya doesn´t know how to accept kindness, he doesn´t know how to react to people caring about him. Because that´s his job. He is never in the opposite side of it. And when he finally was, he lost it and even then he never thinks about all the shitty things that happen to him, he never complains about the unfairness of it. He just keeps going, he takes every single blow and he never let himself make a sound.

Do you see the contradictions now? The love he has for his people may be the foundation of his identity, but he also sacrifices a thousand of things about himself to protect them. No one can live like that. He lives in a perpetual state of contradiction. What he believes in, what he feels and what he does never fucking allign. And honestly this is part of what makes his character so fucking good, because this contradictions narratively speaking make perfect sense. Is not that he is lying, is not lack of self awareness, is not a hole in his characterization. if you stop to analyze the character this contradictions make perfect sense for him. And this trait is why chuuya gives this impression of being predictably unpredictable.

During the first light novel Dazai describes kunikida like this:

“I´ve got a good idea of who you are now, so nothing you do will ever surprise me. I mean, compared with me, you´re just a simple man with a simple mind, after all (...) See? You wear your heart in your sleeve. You don´t hide how you´re really feeling”- Dazai, Osamu Dazai´s entrance exam

And you´ve probably noticed by now, but a lot of this description somewhat applies for chuuya too. But Dazai´s reaction to chuuya is usually this one:

Even knowing Chuuya better than anyone else, Dazai has consistently been surprised or doubting chuuya´s actions. During stormbringer he didn´t know if chuuya was going to use corruption, because a normal person don´t go through life sacrificing their most wanted thing. During fifteen, he was extermely curious about his relationship with the sheep, because chuuya´s arrogance doesn´t make sense with the way he lets himself be used. He thought that Chuuya was going to kill N because that would´ve been the normal reaction to have but he didn´t. At 22, he hoped that chuuya was going to use corruption to save him but the whole point was that he could never be 100% sure because a normal person won´t go through life facing their worst fear just because of trust. And Dazai is not the only one unbalanced by chuuya, the flags were constantly surprised by him, rimbaud didn´t know what to do of him. Verlaine thought that after all the suffering, chuuya would grow up to hate the world just like he did, but chuuya didn´t. There is this whole scene in which Adam and shirase are facing verlaine and he knows that they will die, he goes through all the possibilities but there´s no way they make it but then chuuya appears

“The 169 outcome. An unthinkable possibility

-Unbelievable- I instinctively muttered”- Adam, stormbringer

Adam is an AI, he was made to think about all the logical options and he never thought of that one. Because no normal person will go and fight when all logic is saying that they will lose. But Chuuya does it, he goes and fight expeting to win, giving his all because he will not let his friends die.

Kunikida is relatively easy to predict because he will stick to his ideals as much as possible and because of that is easy to read his actions and the way he will act (to a certain extent, of course) Chuuya is as easy to manipulate as kunikida is but he is far more difficult to accurately predict. Chuuya may be as genuine and honest as kunikida is but he doesn´t stick to anything. He will go against the very basis of himself for the people he loves. Worse than that a lot of his actions and decisions are incredibly complicated because he does a thousand of mental mallabarisms that somehow make sense for him. He will kill, steal and blackmail but outside of job? He respects the traffic laws, he thinks that kids shouldn´t drink alcohol and help grandmothers cross the street. Does that make any sense to you? He will die and kill a stranger no doubt if by doing that he can protect the mafia but sacrificing a friend? Yeah, that´s not gonna happen. He simply can´t do it. So chuuya is fine with killing but only under specific conditions and that applies to everything he does. He lives in constant contradiction and that´s a problem because he won´t be able to keep it eternally. Every single time he goes against something he believes in, is a hit, even if he doesn´t let himself see it. And is fucking terrifying because we all talk about what´s gonna happen when Dazai breaks down, but I´m asking what´s gonna happen if chuuya is the one who breaks down? Because it´s gonna be fucking catastrophic, Chuuya doesn´t know how to bend, he will just keep going until he breaks. He will just keep going until he completely destroys himself.

Now I feel like this is a good time to answer the first question. If chuuya has so many hero-like qualities then why is he in the sides that kill people? why is he a morally grey character? By now I think is pretty evident that Chuuya is not a violence oriented character, he may be agressive and blunt, he is bad tempered but almost every single time he attacks is because he is trying to protect his people or in benefit of them. Yes, he is impulsive and he enjoys a good fight but he never attacks just for the sake of it. He may be arrogant and powerful but none of that is the answer. The real reason Chuuya is a morally grey character is because he chooses.

For him, some people are more important than others.

And just like I´ve been saying in all this analysis, chuuya is ready to do /everything/ for the group of people he chooses. He will kill and die for them. He will go against his moral code a thousand times for them. This certainly doesn´t excuse chuuya´s behavior though. The reality is that no matter his motivation, his actions are still bad by the moral code but just like Dazai, Chuuya is not a moral oriented character. And honestly I will forever find fascinating, that Dazai have all the attributes that we would expect of a bad person but he is in the side that saves people, he is doing his best to protect. Meanwhile, chuuya is an almost text book definition of a hero and still is in the side that kills people. The most fascinating thing though, is that they´re both morally grey characters just in completely different ways. Dazai still does a lot of bad things, it just happens that the ultimate result is a “good” one. Chuuya is constantly doing horrible things, but he also sacrifices himself constantly for the city he loves, and he has saves lots of lives by doing it.

Now going back to topic, yes chuuya chooses but that this is not a mafia-only thing. People in the light does it as well.

Tanizaki is the most obvious one, it has never been a secret that he would burn the world for Naomi and he is the only ADA character that actively has risked (and potentially killed) a complete innocent person in the name of saving Naomi. Ranpo did it as well, during the cannibalism arc he is the first one to suggest killing Mori because he priorized Fukuzawa not only over Mori´s life (which is natural) but also over the whole moral code of the ADA. And later in the story, he is the only one who wants to refuse the job that we now know that ruined the agency. The whole point of it, is not that the ADA didn´t believe in ranpo, is that if they didn´t took the job innocent people were gonna die and that goes against everything the ADA believes in, but not for Ranpo. He was perfectly fine with letting those people die if he could save his family, if he could save the ADA by refusing the job. Tecchou is a hunting dog, his whole character revolves around justice but he was ready to go against that because Jouno was lost, and that was more important for him than the fucking world. Yes, chuuya actively kills but all of this characters have proved that they would do it too under the right circumstances.

And with this I can finally write the last part of this analysis: Chuuya nakahara shouldn´t be in the mafia, his coping mechanisms and how his character is stuck.

#bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs #bsd meta #chuuya analysis #bsd analysis #soukoku #skk #the fangirling is strong in this one #he is my favorite and it is obvious #hundreds of words just to say that I adore him #stormbringer spoilers #fifteen spoiler #bsd spoilers

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celepom · 1 year

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For Transgender Day of Visibility, here’s several books about Gender that I haven’t recommended before (I Think)!

Fine: A Comic About Gender

By Rhea Ewing

As graphic artist Rhea Ewing neared college graduation in 2012, they became consumed by the question: What is gender? This obsession sparked a quest in which they eagerly approached both friends and strangers in their quiet Midwest town for interviews to turn into comics. A decade later, this project exploded into a sweeping portrait of the intricacies of gender expression with interviewees from all over the country. Questions such as “How do you Identify” produced fiercely honest stories of dealing with adolescence, taking hormones, changing pronouns—and how these experiences can differ, often drastically, depending on culture, race, and religion. Amidst beautifully rendered scenes emerges Ewing’s own story of growing up in rural Kentucky, grappling with their identity as a teenager, and ultimately finding themself through art—and by creating something this very fine. Tender and wise, inclusive and inviting, Fine is an indispensable account for anyone eager to define gender in their own terms.

Galaxy: The Prettiest Star

By Jadzia Axelrod & Jess Taylor (Illustrator)

It takes strength to live as your true self, and one alien princess disguised as a human boy is about to test her power. A vibrant story about gender identity, romance, and shining as bright as the stars. Taylor Barzelay has the perfect life. Good looks, good grades, a starting position on the basketball team, a loving family, even an adorable corgi. Every day in Taylor’s life is perfect. And every day is torture. Taylor is actually the Galaxy Crowned, an alien princess from the planet Cyandii, and one of the few survivors of an intergalactic war. For six long, painful years, Taylor has accepted her duty to remain in hiding as a boy on Earth. That all changes when Taylor meets Metropolis girl Katherine “call me Kat” Silverberg, whose confidence is electrifying. Suddenly, Taylor no longer wants to hide, even if exposing her true identity could attract her greatest enemies. From the charming and brilliant mind behind the popular podcast The Voice of Free Planet X, Jadzia Axelrod, and with stunningly colorful artwork by Jess Taylor comes the story of a girl in hiding who must face her fears to see herself as others see her: the prettiest star.

To Strip the Flesh

By Oto Toda

A moving collection of six short stories that explores what must be stripped away to find the truth and celebrates the beauty of embracing who you are. Chiaki Ogawa has never doubted that he is a boy, although the rest of the world has not been as kind. Bound by his mother’s dying wish, Chiaki tries to be a good daughter to his ailing father. When the burden becomes too great, Chiaki sets out to remake himself in his own image and discovers more than just personal freedom with his transition—he finds understanding from the people who matter most.

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston

By Esme Symes-Smith

In a magical medieval world filled with dragons, shape-shifters, and witches, a twelve-year-old hero will search for their place as an impending war threatens. A thrilling middle-grade series opener that stars a nonbinary tween and explores identity and gender amid sword fights. My name is Callie, and I'm not a girl. I am here as Papa's squire, and I want to train as a knight. In a world where girls learn magic and boys train as knights, twelve-year-old nonbinary Callie doesn't fit in anywhere. And you know what? That's just fine. Callie has always known exactly what they want to be, and they're not about to let a silly thing like gender rules stand in their way. When their ex-hero dad is summoned back to the royal capital of Helston to train a hopeless crown prince as war looms, Callie lunges at the opportunity to finally prove themself worthy to Helston's great and powerful. Except the intolerant great and powerful look at Callie and only see girl. Trapped in Helston's rigid hierarchy, Callie discovers they aren't alone--there's Elowen, the chancellor's brilliant daughter, whose unparalleled power is being stifled; Edwyn, Elowen's twin brother, locked in a desperate fight to win his father's approval; and Willow, the crown prince who was never meant to be king. In this start to an epic series packed with action, humor, and heart, Callie and their new friends quickly find themselves embedded in an ancient war--the only hope to defeat the dragons and witches outside the kingdom lies in first defeating the bigotry within.

I Think I Turned My Childhood Friend Into a Girl

By Azusa Banjo

It's a familiar story: a popular high school student gives their plain friend a makeover and transforms their life. But this time, the path to a new life isn't quite so straight and narrow. Kenshirou Midou has loved cosmetics all his life, keeping his obsession secret from almost everyone except for his childhood friend Hiura Mihate. One day, Kenshirou gets permission to practice applying makeup on Hiura, and the results are earth-shattering: Hiura's appearance transforms from a plain, undersized boy to a pretty, petite girl, and Kenshirou discovers just how freeing it is to apply his passion! Yet he's not the only one who finds the process liberating. Hiura likes the makeup, and the subsequent dress-up in feminine clothes, and decides to start wearing the girls' uniform to school. Kenshirou doesn't understand if he's unlocked something in Hiura, or if he's simply seeing a new side to his childhood buddy that he never noticed before. What are these feelings bubbling between them now--is this attraction truly new?

My Androgynous Boyfriend

By Tamekou Wako and her androgynous boyfriend don't exactly have the most traditional of relationships. She spends her days working hard in the world of publishing, while he spends his time obsessing over fashion and makeup--all with the goal of making himself beautiful just for her. This romantic slice-of-life story is about love, relationships, and breaking with tradition!

#Transgender #LGBT comic #queer #gender #graphic novels #manga #transgender day of visibility #book recs

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pyrocephalus-rubinus · 3 months

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I am just obsessed with the recurring themes of our lives as stories in the Junoverse.

Alessandra Strong reminding us that there are no Happy Endings in real life, only Happy Middles.

Juno being reminded that stories are a way humans have of trying to frame our lives in a way that makes sense, but real life is not that simple. In the reminder that you might want to become the villain in a story to make sense of it but maybe sometimes little kids who live in Oldtown die and no matter how much you blame yourself, it is just not that simple.

In the way Sarah Steel got her story stolen away from her. Andromeda's story, yes, but also her story. And how she couldn't deal with that.

How Juno tried to rebuild a story to survive, with him as a hero as much as he was embarrassed to admit it. And with the part of Sarah Steel pumping through his veins as the ultimate enemy. An epic of heroes and monsters. The way his life was not a simple story in which there was One Clue that would explain everything, One Answer from Ben that would make sense of it all.

The way Juno got robbed of his story by Ramses. Made all those sacrifices, those actions that felt heavy on his shoulders for a plotline that didn't exist. The plot twist was the unraveling of the story, leaving only pain and sadness behind. The way Juno was able to overcome that. To start a new story, to do with his life as he saw fit.

I also love the reminder that we do need stories like Mick's to keep us hopeful. To gather strength to face the big mean world. The acceptance of how useful and sacred the tool of "stories" is.

The way dreams - stories- like having a life of adventure among the stars with the one you love, or like having a home in a city that means death but also hope to you… that those are also necessary. But we can't live in a dream. And the dreams may pass, but it's okay that we dreamed them.

The way Juno could recognize the brutality of stealing Nureyev's story away from the thief. The cruelness of it. How he could sense it coming, looming from that door. How afraid he was for Nureyev.

The way Nureyev's only way of coping all these years has been telling himself a story over and over again. A story of martyrdom. A story of devotion… In order to keep Juno away and not succumb to the desperation to be next to someone he loves and feels like he doesn't deserve, he has been telling himself this story. This lie of how Juno would be better off away from him. How Juno would never understand the sacredness of his life's work.

All these stories, all these versions of what's going on… All these precious lives being used as little clogs of an infernal machine that does not care for stories. Only results and getting richer and richer…

Just ugh… this podcast…

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #the penumbra podcast spoilers #tpp spoilers #tpp season 5 #tpp s5 spoilers #tpp season 5 spoilers #just me rambling again #im just so normal about this #juno steel #junoverse #peter nureyev #benzaiten steel #sarah steel

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miracletyrant · 4 months

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Arthur Lester and living for someone else: an essay I dreamt up while I had the flu

First, some clarification: when I say living for someone else, I mean taking them into consideration in your life. It is not about catering unhealthily to them, or enslaving yourself to their whims. living for someone else is the difference between feeling love for someone and acting on it. It's about treating love as an action.

In episode 31, we learn a lot about Arthur's past. While Bella was giving birth, he said to James, "I can't live for someone else!" and he wasn't wrong. He loves Faroe, even if he didn't love Bella, but he didn't truly live for her. Don't get me wrong; he wasn't a neglectful father. He was kind to her and tried to spend time with her. Ultimately, he made few sacrifices for her, but not none.

Once she was gone and Parker had helped him restore his will to live, he found contentment. And this is the most important part; he wasn't unhappy living for himself, having no one worry about where he was or what he was doing, and having no one depend on him. He was fine.

But he wasn't thriving. Guilt and loss aside, he was living the life he would've, had he never gotten Bella pregnant. And yet, despite everything, despite knowing that he prefers a life lived just for himself, Arthur still said that the time he spent with Faroe--for Faroe, so to speak--was the happiest of his life. He didn't allocate much time to that selfless joy, the joy of telling fairy tales to his little girl, of dedicating time to her, but he was happier with her than he would've been without her. Happier carving out a piece of himself and giving it to her, sharing it with her, hollowing out a space in his world for her to be safe and loved in.

But he did cave to himself. He didn't dedicate as much to her as a father should, because he didn't want to live for someone else.

Cut to episode 20. This is a different Arthur than the man who fathered Faroe. This Arthur has lost absolutely everything, except John.

Arthur has made up his mind. He knows he can't beat the King in Yellow, but he also refuses to let him have John. He knows that John doesn't want to return to the King, and he knows John doesn't want to die. But John has no real agency over his fate, as he is trapped within Arthur. John can't fight back, and he can't run away. The only way he can be protected from those terrible fates is if Arthur puts himself aside entirely and thinks only of John.

So he does. He faces the King, knowing that he might die, knowing that he might fail, but completely unwilling to make a call that would doom John. And the King sees that. That's why, during the confrontation, he says to Arthur, "You despise me... and yet you love him."

That line. That beautiful, poignant line, spoken so contemplatively by the bloodthirsty god of madness. He seeks to understand Arthur, to manipulate him, to find his true intention, and that is what he finds. "You love him" means "You act singularly out of love for John, with his best interest at the core of your every decision."

He knows, because of this, that he has lost. So he chooses to take out his anger on Arthur instead.

It would've been easier for Arthur to give up while his bones were being broken. He was helpless to stop the torment, but he knew he had the knife. He could've killed himself once he realized that he was going to be subject to eternal torture, and it would've made sense. But he didn't. In fact, he begged John not to return to the King even while screaming in agony, even knowing that if John left, the pain would end. Because John's fate mattered more to him than his own. So long as he endured, John would live.

It wasn't until he realized that John was leaving, sacrificing everything for him, that he decided to kill himself. If John was doomed regardless, then this way, at least he would be free from the King. And if Arthur's motivation was at all unclear--perhaps he was sacrificing himself because of all the people the King would hurt once fully restored--he clarifies it later, in season 3.

"I died for you. For a fucking voice in my head, that stole my eyesight. I fucking died for that. Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

It does sound insane. But he doesn't even mention the even crazier thing he did; being willing to live for the voice in his head. To live through unfathomable agony and terror of the King's torture, just to protect John. Dying for him was his last resort, because he shares a body with him. Dying for John could only save him from something worse than death.

This means that in order to love John, Arthur has to live for him in every way possible. He has to care for himself in order to care for John. He has to do things he doesn't want to do--like maybe one day sit through a film he can't see--to care for John. Every single experience--good and bad--that he has brings John life and humanity, and every good thing he does shows John how beautiful the world can be. His patience and forgiveness helps John to grow his own sense of compassion.

The core beauty of their relationship lies within this, at least for me. Arthur Lester, a man unable to live for anyone but himself, is put in a position where everything he does has a potent effect on a lost fragment of an eldritch being. And despite what that being is, despite the bloodlust and violence of his entire existence, he slowly becomes someone so full of love and compassion that he can hardly stand to ignore a person in need. Even before growing close with Arthur, he knew compassion from his new desire to grow. He wanted Arthur to spare the wraith in season 1, because he wanted to know that monsters can be saved and redeemed. And he kept growing from there. John shed his first ever tears for an innocent animal. He looked through Arthur's cruel words in season 3 and understood that they were fueled by self-hatred, and he stuck by him and refused to let him drown in his darkest moments. He was willing to risk everything for strangers victimized by a terrible monster. He begged Arthur not to take the stone from Mr. Scratch, because in doing so, someone innocent would have to pay the price.

Of course he isn't perfect (ahem, that whole thing with Oscar), but he has been loved enough to be transformed completely. He has been loved enough to return that love, not only to Arthur, but to people he doesn't know. Because Arthur lived for him.

#sorry this is so long lmao #these thoughts have been churning in my head since i finished the podcast #it's just so beautiful #their relationship is so complex and fascinating #these two are gonna be the death of me #jarthur #privateeyes #john doe #arthur lester #malevolent #malevolent podcast #qpr #kayne #the king in yellow #faroe

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starry-eyes-love · 7 months

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Chapter 2: Blood & Pain

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader (18+, Minors DNI)

Summary | Joel, Ellie and you are traveling in the wilderness together heading towards Jackson. During your travels both Joel and you get into a heated argument where you storm off into the wilderness alone. When darkness descends Joel goes searching for you, eventually he finds you and breaks down in front of you. You find yourself growing a lot as a person through the hard trials of Life through Blood and Pain, a few surprises pop up along the way (one of which Joel suspects), and ultimately you find compassion and comfort in the decisions that you starting to make with this big broody older man. The chapter ends with a few unresolved issues, as the story will continue in future chapters.

Warnings | Angst, language, names used (honey, baby), age gap, verbal teasing, pregnancy (implied), miscarriage (implied), yelling, arguments, reference to abuse (slight if you squint), reference to sex in the past, reference to mental and physical exhaustion. I think that’s it

Word Count: 5.1 K

Author’s Note: This was a little harder to write as I’m trying to set up the characters into the line for how the story is going to go. I know this didn’t have as much action in it, mostly frustration between the characters but I wanted to show you the problems that these two have. Both of them love the other but just can’t seem to get passed the whole communication problem. Ellie, sweet tell-it-to-you-no-filter Ellie, will be helping these two more in the future getting their feelings out. Now that they found a cabin they are going to be staying for a while. More parts are coming out in the future as we take these 3 amazing characters through a story of learning to live together (and eventually they’ll find Tommy too). Stay tuned for more :)

It had been about three weeks since you and Joel had sex on the ground in a sleeping bag for the first time. Since then, Joel has been a bit grumpy, moody, and constantly correcting you with things. He no longer treated you like you were less than human, or that you were a plague that walked this Earth. However, he was just a bit more moody than usual. He still didn’t want to talk about what had happened between the two of you, that much was for certain. You learned within the first week that you were never going to talk about what happened with him, or at least not right away because as he put it “we ain’t gonna fucking talk about it, so fucking leave it” was always his response no matter what you tried to say. So you left it alone as you didn’t want to bring out the worst in him again.

Each day the three of you would trek closer to Jackson in an attempt to find Tommy, Joel's brother. Ellie had finally eased up a bit on Joel about catching the two of you in a sleeping bag humping, if only she knew what happened after that you thought, but you could never say it out loud. You noticed that the banter between Ellie and Joel was easier, more joking and fun, and you could see how much Joel cared for her as a daughter. You also noticed how much Ellie started to look at Joel like a father figure.

One night when the three of you were collecting firewood, Joel was moving slow as his back was sore and he was tired. Ellie decided to really lay it on thick with the jokes and said with a smirk on her face "So pops, how does one your age still keep up and stay alive. I mean you’re old?” As he stood there glaring at her he eventually let out a huff and shook his head and said "look here little girl, one day you're gonna be my age and then you'll see."

"And how old is that Joel, huh?" Ellie teased while helping Joel with the firewood. When he didn't answer her right away you decided to chime in and say "he's 52" while setting your logs down next to Joels. Ellie looked at you shocked that you knew his age and Joel just scowled at you. “52? Like that’s like ancient. Joel you’re older than dinosaurs, right?” Ellie quipped with a cocky smirk on her face. Joel just stared at Ellie and started grinding his teeth slowly, you knew his age was a sensitive subject for him, though you never really knew why. Feeling a bit frisky at wanting to be included in the conversation for once, you chimed in “Ellie you’re technically not wrong. Some dinosaurs lived to be over 50 and some were long dead before 50. So yes, he’s definitely in the dinosaur category.”

As soon as you finished your statement you heard silence. You looked over at Ellie and she had her mouth wide open just staring at you. She occasionally glanced over to Joel who was also just glaring at you from your statement. Finally after a moment, Ellie burst out laughing and eventually both you and Joel burst out laughing too. Pretty soon all three of you were crying because you were laughing so hard. It was the first real laugh that you three had like this in a long time, and damn it felt good, especially when Joel was laughing with you. After a moment, Joel was the first person to speak wiping his eyes while saying “look here smartass, I’m not 52, I’m 53. My birthday was a few weeks ago.” You were going to ask Joel when, but Ellie beat you to it by saying “53, the dinosaur turned 53 and didn’t tell us, what the hell Joel?”

“Didn’t want to make a fuss, it’s just another day and another year older” Joel said. Ellie then started arguing with Joel about not telling you guys about his birthday and the importance of birthdays when you heard him yell at her “my birthday ain’t something special kid, ok. It just means that I’m a year older in this god for saken world. But if ya wanna know, it was the night it was bitterly cold. So happy fucking birthday to me” and then he stormed off.

You stood there frozen as your mind raced from remembering that night of his birthday, the night you and Joel ended up having sex for the first time. “I don’t hate you, never have…If ya still want to leave, I’ll let you… Fuck baby, you’re so god damn tight. God, I need this…I’m not stopping baby, I don’t fucking care who sees or hears us…we aren’t going to talk about it anymore, clear.”

As your mind finished racing from that night you felt tears streaming down your cheeks silently. That night was Joel’s birthday, the night you wanted to leave because of Joel being an ass. You didn’t know why but you felt emotional about this fact. “God, I need this” statement he made that night kept playing over and over in your head. You thought he just needed sex that night, but what he needed was someone to show him that they wanted him on his birthday, show him that someone cared. “God you’re so stupid” you heard you tell yourself as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Yes you are” you heard Ellie say. As you looked up you saw her staring at you. She looked around for a moment before approaching you and saying “do you really think I didn’t know that you and Joel were having sex that night?” You tried to say “we weren’t” when she cut you off.

“Don’t. I may be younger than you, but I’m not fucking stupid. I was hoping you two would finally give in to whatever the fuck has been going on between you two, but apparently Joel is more emotionally constipated than I thought.” Ellie said in a low voice shaking her head. You heard yourself give a little snort at her claiming that Joel was emotionally constipated because well, she was right. “It doesn’t matter Ellie” you heard yourself saying “he doesn’t, we don’t-”

“Oh shut up,” Ellie said louder while rolling her eyes and pointing in the direction that Joel went. “You are just as emotionally constipated as he is. God, go talk to him and tell him.”

“Ellie” you said interrupting her. “He doesn’t want to talk about what happened he’s made it-”

“I know he doesn’t want to talk about it, but damn it, it was his birthday and he obviously needed you that night so fuck…I don’t know, go and like say something to him or something” Ellie yelled at you frustrated. When you didn’t respond Ellie threw her hands up in the air and said out loud to herself storming away “apparently I got two emotionally constipated old idiots I have to travel with that act more like freaking children than me. Fuck.”

As you stood there watching her walk away you heard a familiar voice behind you say “what’s her problem?” Without turning around and facing Joel you said “she’s mad at us and called us both emotionally constipated old idiots.” You heard him snort behind you while saying “why would she call us that?” You turned around slowly and noticed that Joel was towering above you looking down and you both stood there within close proximity staring into each other’s eyes and you thought to yourself what in the hell is Joel Miller thinking.

As Joel stood there looking down at you he noticed that your eyes were bloodshot and your cheeks were rosey. He knew the only time that happened was when you were crying, but he didn’t know why. He reached out and slowly rubbed soothing strokes down your cheek saying “why does she think we’re emotionally constipated idiots?” He had a suspicion of why Ellie would say that, but he wanted you to say it first. He knew that Ellie had seen the two of you that night when you had sex. When you both were finished that night and he stood up to fix his belt back on his pants he happened to glance over to were Ellie was sleeping and saw that she was wide awake and staring at you two. At first he was upset as he just realized that he had sex in front of a teenager, and the thought made him sick to his stomach as he knew better than that. Ellie had tried to approach him several times afterwards and each time he’d say ‘Ellie, it’s not your concern ok, mind your own damn business.’ She’d already called him emotionally constipated more than once regarding the topic, but he wanted to hear you say the reason just in case she hadn’t told you yet that she saw the two of you.

After a few moments of staring up into Joel’s eyes you decided that he wasn’t going to move until you gave him an answer, and this was one answer you didn’t want to give him. You tried to think of a convincing lie to say that didn’t involve admitting to him what Ellie said. But you also knew that whatever it was that you were going to tell him he would go and talk to Ellie about it later, especially since he found you crying yet again. So you decided that the truth would be better in this situation. So you looked down, took a deep breath and said, “she saw us that night. The night we- um- the night of your birthday.” When he didn’t respond right away you took another big breath and added “she saw us having sex Joel, and she told me we both were emotionally constipated, and that we both needed to talk about it.”

You honestly waited for the explosion, for the yelling or screaming to start from him, but it never came and you didn’t understand why. Everytime you had even attempted to bring up this topic he’d always shut you down and yell at you stating that you two were never going to talk about it. So his silence bothered you as this wasn’t Joel. You dared to look up into his eyes at this point wondering if he was seething with anger or just shocked at what you had told him. When you glanced up in his eyes you didn’t see any anger or hatred or impending violent reaction, what you saw was compassion and softness. Joel continued to stroke his finger over your cheek and said “I know. I know Ellie saw, I knew it when I was fixing my belt, I looked over and saw she was awake.”

Now it was your turn to freeze and become absolutely frigid, she saw and Joel knew. Why didn’t he say something you thought to yourself. As if he could read your mind he said “I didn’t say anything cause I didn’t want to upset ya. Baby, I don’t want you thinking bad about what we did that night. I don’t want you regretting it.”

Before you could stop yourself, you snapped at him and said “I don’t regret it, but obviously you do. You won’t even look at me, hold me, kiss me, or fuck- even talk to me about it. Hell, you’ve hardly spoken two words to me at all since that night. I don’t regret it, but obviously you do.” When you looked up at him you felt him go rigid and then you saw the anger come back into his eyes as he looked at you not moving and not saying anything. You stood there thinking Ellie was right, he is emotionally constipated and I’m tired of it. So you did the one thing that you know not to do, you decided to poke the bear named Joel by further saying “I get it Joel, I was a pity fuck. I get it. You’ve made it perfectly clear to me that you regret everything and that you hate me."

When Joel didn't respond you turned to walk away. You knew he was seething with anger, you could tell it by the way he was grinding his teeth, a nervous tick he did when he was angry, upset, or in deep thought. When you shook your head and turned to walk away you didn't see him reach out to you. He grabbed you hard by the shoulders and spun you around and said in a stern voice "when the fuck you gonna get it through that thick head of yours that I don't fucking hate you, huh? And for the record, you ain't a pity fuck."

"Then when are we going to talk about it, huh?" you said with a little bite to your voice, as your anger was also slowly rising at his outburst at you.

"There's nothing to fucking talk about" he replied.

Once again you stood there looking at the man you cared for glaring back at you with anger and you were exhausted and frustrated. Joel never wanted to talk about feelings or emotions. He never wanted to acknowledge his love for Ellie as a father or what his feelings were for you, if he had any. You understood the whole dating role was not really present much in a world where survival was the focus. But you wanted to know what he viewed you as, if you meant something more to him than just a tag along person in the wilderness. You knew Joel wasn't going to define what your relationship was, but you wanted to know if kissing and sex would ever come about again. So with a sigh you asked him the question you've been avoiding. "Joel, are you ever gonna kiss me again or are we ever gonna have sex again?"

When he didn't answer you at first, you knew what his answer was, so you looked down and whispered "please Joel, I need you to say it out loud so I know." You stood there in silence for a long time, trying to will your tears not to sting your eyes as you waited for an answer. You honestly didn’t think he was going to give you one, but when he never left after a bit you decided to look up into his face. When you looked up, you saw that he was looking down at you with a pained look on his face. “Please Joel, I-I just need to know what you think of me. If I was just- if you just wanted-” you couldn’t finish the sentence. You couldn’t say I want to know if I was just a birthday fuck and nothing else. You felt him stare at you as you attempted to say the words and when you couldn’t, you just looked down at your feet again and struggled with the tears that once again were about to fall.

After a moment, you heard Joel exhale and felt him tenderly grab your chin to tip your chin up to look at him once again. Then he very gently said "baby, nothing good ever comes from kissin' in this world. I'm-"

You didn't let Joel finish before you backed away and said "You're right. How silly of me to think a man actually cared about me. You’re no different than Dave, then man who said he loved me but attempted to kill me a few years before you. Silly me to think that I was ever good enough for anyone. I wasn't ever good enough at home before all of this shit happened in the world, wasn’t good enough for Dave, and now not good enough for you. Jesus, can I be any more stupid?” you said with a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh, and for the record Joel, this is the clear definition of what a pity fuck is. So happy fucking birthday right? I'm sorry I wasn't the present you clearly fucking wanted." And at the end of that sentence you felt the sob escape your mouth as you turned around and walked away. You stormed past Ellie and kept walking in the woods, you were so upset that you never thought to grab your gun or your pack. You needed to clear your head and think, and you couldn't do it with them nearby. So when you heard Ellie yell back asking where you were going, you didn't answer, you just kept walking. With each step you took you felt your heart shattered for the man you loved. You had your chance again to tell him, maybe you should have but if he didn't feel anything for you, why would you voice your silly little feelings to him.

Darkness had descended and somewhere in your storming off in anger you got turned around and lost. Usually it didn't matter in the winter as you could always follow your footprints back, but sometime in the last hour your footprints had disappeared because of the wind. You couldn't walk back in a straight line because you knew you had not followed one. So you kept wandering and eventually you sat down next to a tree and closed your eyes to let the cold sting your face and dry the tears that were streaming down your face from anger and sadness combined.

Several hours had passed and Joel was very anxious of why you hadn’t returned. Ellie and him had gotten into a hell of an argument of what had happened. Joel at first attempted to brush it off saying that it wasn’t something of concern, but when Ellie called out his bullshit and stated that she had heard the conversation all he could do was look down. He did care for you but he didn’t know how to express it. Apparently the way he was going about it was wrong and he knew it. God, why am I so stupid? he thought to himself.

When darkness hit his slight worried state turned into complete panic. Darkness was not something where people should be defenseless in the world anymore, especially when they didn’t have their pack or their gun with them. He frantically packed up a bag of medical supplies, bullets, food, and his knife and gun. He told Ellie to stay by the campfire and to shoot anything that came at her that wasn’t the two of you.

As Joel stormed into the wilderness. He had no idea where you went, what you were thinking, or what you felt. He was searching for you for what felt like an eternity, trying to see where you went. Right before he was going to give up thinking that he could search better in the daylight he stumbled across you sitting with your back against a tree. He approached you slowly and called out to you. When you didn’t respond he felt his gut clench as he hoped that you weren’t injured or dead because of his stupidity. Finally, when he got up to you he knelt down and reached out to touch your leg as he gently called you by your name. When you slowly opened your eyes and looked at him he grabbed you and held you close.

You were so numb from the cold, and from the physical and mental exhaustion that you were limp in his arms. As he cradled you against his chest you heard him let out a small sob as he said “baby I’m sorry, ok? You’re wrong. You ain’t a pity fuck. God damnit-I care about ya, you hear me? I c-care. I just don’t know how to do this. Please- please come back to me honey. Please don’t leave.”

As you heard and felt him cry into your shoulder you slowly started to wrap your arms tighter around him. In all of the years you have known Joel, you’ve never seen him get emotional like this. He sounded and felt like a man that was breaking and you really didn’t understand the reasons why. You didn’t want to give him another chance, but what could you do. You still loved him even though he hurt you. But you knew that you weren’t going to get the relationship that you wanted. So as you hugged him back and said “It’s okay Joel, I’ll stay” you knew you couldn’t lower your guard completely down again, not without him shattering you. So as you hugged him you forced your internal walls up around you in your mind. This is the last time Joel’s going to shatter me, you thought.

2 Weeks Later

It had been 2 weeks after you and Joel had your horrible argument where you stormed off and he found you sitting against the tree. After you had held each other that night, he helped you up and helped to walk you back to camp. That night Joel never slept much as he kept watch of you. Ellie and you shared a sleeping bag that night, against Joel’s better judgement. He wanted to keep you warm but when he offered you, you just looked at him and had said one single word and that was “no.”

Since then you guys were trekking across the country moving closer to Jackson where Tommy supposedly was. After walking in the wilderness for the longest time you guys had stumbled upon an abandoned cabin in the wilderness. After much discussion, mostly Joel yelling at you or Ellie in anger, you guys had decided to stop and make it a home for a week, just to rest and recoup. You were on your period that was several weeks late and were having horrible menstrual cramps, something that was not normal for you. You were unable to walk at the fast pace that you normally did, which resulted in Joel and you arguing yet again. During one of your heated arguments about wanting to stay at the cabin and not able to keep up, you felt a horrible stabbing pain in your lower stomach and you doubled over holding your stomach in front of him.

He had immediately stopped yelling at you and went to your side saying “baby, are you alright? Are you hurt?” while looking you over head to toe trying to find out where you were injured. He never called you baby, except during that one time during sex. You decided not to bring that up to him as you were in so much pain. Instead you told him you were ok and that you just needed to go lay down for a bit in the cabin. That night Joel slept next to you, holding you close to him while slowly rubbing circles on your hip and lower back as you cried out from the pain in your lower belly, specifically the uterine area.

From time to time during the night you’d hear him say “Shhh baby, it’s okay. I got you honey, slow deep breaths for me” as you silently sobbed into his chest from the pain. This was not normal for you to have such horrible menstrual cramps and to be as late as you were on your period. You hope Joel didn’t notice that you were really late with your period. As you laid there that night, having on and off horrible painful cramps, he tried to get you to settle down to sleep. Unfortunately sleep wasn’t something you could do while being in so much pain so that night the both of you didn’t get much sleep. When you had finally dozed off, you maybe got about 2 hours of sleep when all of a sudden you were woken up to a searing pain in your belly. It felt like someone was ripping your uterus apart from the inside out. As your eyes opened you felt and heard Joel breathing slow and even behind you, as he had finally fallen asleep about a half hour after you had. You slowly slipped out of the bed, trying not to wake him, as the pain kept increasing and your stomach decided to start churning in response to the pain. You knew that it was only a matter of time before you would be heaving all the contents of your stomach out so you worked extra careful to get out of bed fast to get outside before you lost your stomach contents all over the floor. You had thought you were graceful in climbing out of bed, but because you were so sick and in so much pain you hadn’t realized that when you slipped out of bed you hit Joel, which startled him awake.

By the time you got to the cabin front door you were practically running. As soon as you hit the outside banister railing you heaved your contents inside your stomach out onto the lawn. As you were retching you felt two strong and rough hands gently grab your hair to hold your hair back, as you continued to vomit. You also felt his one hand drift to your back and he slowly started rubbing it for you until you finished dry heaving. Finally when you were finished you stood up and whispered “thanks” to him as you wiped your mouth off. After only getting a few hours of sleep, you felt exhausted and Joel looked both wrecked and worried.

“How late?” Joel asked while standing next to you. But when you didn't answer and had avoided his gaze, he knew. But he still wanted to hear you say it. So he said more sternly "damn it, how late?"

"2 weeks, Joel ok." you yelled at him for raising his voice. "I'm two weeks late. Not that any of it fucking matters."

"It fucking matters" Joel snapped. You both were so physically exhausted that tempers were flaring once again. As you both stood there in silence you kept watching Joel look at you from your stomach that you were holding, to your face, and then back again. Finally after a moment you sighed and said "Joel, Look I'm- I'm bleeding really heavy ok. And it-it hurts and it doesn't matter if-if we or if- um if I'm…" and then you felt your lower lip quiver as the tears started to flow down your cheeks at the realization that yes you were in fact pregnant, and that you now were having a miscarriage.

As soon as Joel saw your lip quiver he grabbed you and pulled you hard into his chest and held you tight. He heard you let out a sob as you cried into his chest. He didn't stop you because he knew, he knew what you were going through as he and Sarah's mom had gone through the same thing awhile after Sarah was born. He knew you wanted to be a mom. It was something you two had discussed when you first started out together. You told him you had your period and needed to find some type of rags or cloth to put in your underwear to catch the blood. At first he was furious that you didn't have the scheduled hysterectomy that most women got at the QZ. He had called you irresponsible and a damn fool for not following through with the surgery. But when you explained it to him, we'll more like actually yelled at him, he considered the conversation over and knew that you wanted to have children. But he hoped for your sake that you’d never have kids because having a baby now meant a death sentence sometimes, and he didn't want to think of the possibility of losing you. Now fast forward a year later and he was damn protective over you, whether or not you were (or was) carrying his child.

As he silently held you he felt his heart ache at the prospect of losing yet again another child. Even though no one knew for sure if you were pregnant, as out here in the wilderness there was no way to tell for sure until you got later in pregnancy. But it didn't matter, he was sure you knew your body. He also knew your cycle and the timing of it, making sure you had extra supplies around that time. He knew you could get cramps occasionally, but nothing like this, and you usually never bled this heavy. He knew something was different and it reminded him of when Sarah's mom had a miscarriage a few months after Sarah was born.

He stood there with his arms tightly around you gently swaying you side to side humming in your ear that everything was going to be alright and that he was sorry. "What are-are you so-sorry for" you whispered as your sobs started to slow down where you could talk again.

"For everything darlin'." Joel said. "For treating you wrong, to possibly getting you, um, pregnant, and to- uh- a miscarriage."

As you stayed wrapped up in each other's arms you heard him sincerely apologize. But when he did you didn't know why he was apologizing for the pregnancy part. Especially when the both of you willingly had unprotected sex all those weeks ago. "It ain't your fault Joel" you said, but he interrupted you by saying "don't tell me it ain't my fault when I was the one that came in ya. I'm a lot older than you sweetheart, I know how this happens and I knew better. It'll never happen again."

When you heard the part of 'it’ll never happen again ' you froze in his arms as you were dreading what he was referring to. You swallowed hard and then said "What part Joel? What part of it ain't happening again that you mean?"

Joel took a moment to think silently to himself and then he gently replied "all of it." It was then that you silently thought to yourself I’m sick and tired of Joel playing with of my feelings and emotions. But it wasn’t something that you could deal with at the present moment, in the meantime, you would allow him to show you compassion over the next few days. But with it you would keep your heart somewhat guarded. You still loved him very much, and you swore to yourself that one day he may learn to love you back. But you knew you couldn’t force it, or force him to face his emotions and feelings toward you. Deep down all of this upset you as you didn’t know where your relationship stood with him. At one moment he told you that he loved you and didn’t want you to leave, the next moment he’d state that you couldn’t be in the relationship that you wanted with him. All of this was confusing and you wanted to get to the bottom of why Joel was constantly switching back and forth with you. But you knew that it was a topic of discussion with him on a different day.

-End of Chapter 2

Don’t worry, this story will continue with other parts.

Tag list: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg

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