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#which is a tragedy she is SO FUN TO DRAW

revasserium · 7 months

Note

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

reqs are: temporarily closed

but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!

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drac-kool-aid · 9 months

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Y'know, something that gets me, is that in the book, Dracula's intentional predation of Lucy starts off with an accidental meeting. Sure, Lucy slept walked, and an argument could be made her path might have been supernaturally influenced, but I say she'd already been a known sleep-walker, and she went directly to a place she was familiar with.

Her stumbling onto Dracula's hiding spot in a very vulnerable state was just an accident, and from there, he intentionally set out to harm her, and through that, everyone around her he could get.

This is sort of related to Jonathan, too. Had Mr. Hawkins not come down with a bad case of gout, Jonathan wouldn't have been sent to Castle Dracula in his stead. Sure, Dracula probably would have had his fun with Hawkins before inevitably killing him, but I doubt he would have drawn it out so long or taken so much delight.

Dracula never sets out with a master-plan to attack Lucy or Jonathan. They just end up in his path and spark his interest. We know that if he isn't interested in you, he'll kill you. He'll, he breaks Mr. Swales neck doesn't even bite him. But the two victims he decides he's going to make suffer the longest he possibly can, he just stumbles upon and goes "oh this will be fun". Later, we see him start choosing victims as a way to retaliate, but for the two inciting incident victims upon which the rest of the story hangs...its just wrong place wrong time.

The reason this struck me is that I was misremembering. For some reason, which I now believe due to thinking about the *through gritted teeth* Coppola film, is that Lucy is sort of hand-picked by Dracula to be his victim. And yeah, the fucking film ain't subtle in its blaming of Lucy's victimization on the fact that she was Too Pretty and Too Flirtatious and Dracula psychically drew her into the garden in a flowing diaphanous dress, but it's really her fault....I hate this movie.

Like, i just read the films Wikipedia plot synopsis, Dracula "psychically seduces" Lucy before biting her. He chooses her out of everyone in England deliberately.

And just...no. That's not what happens. Lucy got so stressed from her wedding that her latent sleep walking started again. Mina gets so tired from the constant stress she falls asleep without meaning to. Lucy went to their favorite spot...Dracula just happened to be there and took advantage and both Lucy and Mina weren't floating along softly into a garden with a fan letting their hair blow, but cold, scared, and covered in mud and blood, and forced to sneak back to the house that way, facing not only the supernatural but the very ordinary horrors of being caught outside at night by a strange man.

Idk. The tragedy is that Dracula didn't set out to fuck with these people. It's just that they were the ones who crossed his path that he took an interest in, and he decided to draw it out as long as possible.

(Oh fuck, this is the crew of the Demeter too. It isn't like Draculas got some big plan. He just decides he's going to play with his food. Had he boarded any other ship it would have ended up the same way.)

I guess in conclusion, I find it odd that adaptions seem to need to find a reason for him doing what he does. Like, Coppola has to conjure up a whole reincarnation backstory at one point, but I don't understand why!! Let Dracula just be an opportunist, his casual cruelty knowing no reason. That makes him scarier.

#dracula daily #lucy westenra #jonathan harker #re: dracula #dracula #back from impromptu hiatus #adhd kicked in and started feeling guilty for not being caught up #which only made it worse lol

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autumnmobile12 · 10 months

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7 Ways to Introduce the Villain.

1. The Shadow

A lot of series go with the classic 'ominous shadowy figure in the background.' Here's Silco in Arcane. Sinister voice, sinister dude, sinister intent. Boom, you have your villain.

2. The Slow Reveal

Other variations of the 'shadowy figure' in which the series draws out the reveal of the villain. Avatar: The Last Airbender doesn't reveal the Firelord until the final season, but his presence is felt throughout the series. He's always this looming threat whose will is carried out by his underlings. (General Zhao, Azula, etc.)

3. The Fabulous Entrance!

Okay, so we do hear Ragyo on the phone a couple times before they actually show her face, but goddamn, this entrance. It is impressive and terrifying and, it perfectly suits the utter psycho that she is.

There is no normal expression this woman makes when she's 'happy.' She's always smug or angry or annoyed, but this face with her staring, manic eyes and smile still haunts me. Send help.

4. The Sudden Entrance

Shigaraki kinda comes out of nowhere in My Hero Academia. For the first few episodes, its all lighthearted and fun and dealing with Bakugo's BS and then the class heads off on a field trip and suddenly,

"Oh, shit! Plot is happening!"

This series started off with kids learning to be heroes, and now its tragedy and social upheaval and people's lives are in danger.

5. The Incognito Entrance

This is when some random nonthreatening dude/lady just kinda sidles into the plot the be the butt of a joke and later turns out to have been one of the villains.

This scene was so weird. Tyki is just minding his own business, scamming people at cards. Then Allen and Lavi show up looking for their friend (the guy currently being scammed), and even though he recognizes them as exorcists and his enemies, Tyki has to sit there and play it off like he doesn't know jack cause if he does anything, he's gonna blow his cover in front of his human buddies. And then he suffers the indignation of being stripped in a poker game in broad daylight because the main protagonist is absolutely evil with a card deck. And then he just walks away from this like it's a totally normal thing, not even really taking vengeance for it. (He went after Allen, sure, but that was more of a job than any personal vendetta.) He's not the main villain, but I couldn't resist pointing out how bizarre this is.

For those who haven't seen D. Gray Man, the guy in the center is one of the main antagonists, and though this is technically the second time you see him, the first encounter was so short it was practically a cameo and he was a Victorian-era, Dorian Gray dandy gentleman, not this hobo riding a train.

6. The Traitor

Since the Undertaker was more of a neutral party in Black Butler, I don't think he really counts as a traitor. Still, I don't think too many of us were suspecting the morbid jokester Grim Reaper was going to turn out to be a major antagonist later on.

7. The Protagonist

And sometimes the protagonist is the villain!

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dcvina-claires · 6 months

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i talked a bit about this with my friend who watched ofmd but i feel like i need to say it on here too. izzy wasn’t the only disability rep on the show. i’ve seen people complain that they killed off the only disabled character and if they do realize that other characters are disabled, they say it doesn’t matter because “it wasn’t as serious as izzy” and like… that’s the whole point. that’s what makes it good. spanish jackie is easily one of the most powerful characters on the show. she has like 20 husbands. she’s universally feared and she does all this with a missing hand. and then there’s ed. i’ve seen a lot of people say that his disability is a headcanon but he literally wears a knee brace. you don’t do that for the aesthetic. being upset that izzy died because it takes away from disabled representation and then refusing to acknowledge ed’s is straight up just hypocrisy. lucius is also easily recognized by the fact that his finger is literally made out of wood. there was a whole episode surrounding its amputation. and that might not seem like a big deal but lucius is an artist. i’m also an artist. i don’t know how i’d relearn drawing if that happened to me so the fact that he works around it and finds a way to keep doing what he loves is so meaningful. he’s also in a relationship with another disabled person, pete. pete has a speech impediment and cleft lip. he’s still seen as a fun and desirable character. he’s one of the only main characters who’s married. he has his flaws, he’s a compulsive liar and says the wrong thing sometimes, but his disability is never made into one of those flaws. i understand being upset that izzy died. he was a great character who represented a lot of people, but he wasn’t the only one. you don’t get to pick and choose which characters are disabled enough for you. disabled people aren’t your tragedy. they deserve to have stories outside of that too

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd #izzy hands #israel hands #spanish jackie #ed teach #edward teach #blackbeard #lucius spriggs #black pete

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zephrunsimperium · 10 months

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I was laying down to sleep when I was suddenly possessed with a powerful urge to rant about one of my favorite things about Gravity Falls that I have literally never heard anyone else talk about and I feel like I have a unique perspective on:

I love that Gravity Falls allows tweens to be as chaotic and vibrant as they actually are.

As an aspiring middle school teacher, I spend a lot of time around tweens. It’s a special age and while I can easily understand why a lot of people would rather avoid kids in those years, I absolutely adore them. Middle schoolers are very invested in the idea of “coolness” but the secret is that being “cool” really just means being loved and accepted.

Not-so-fun fact: most kids stop drawing in 4th grade because they start comparing themselves to others and worry about their art being “good enough.” That is an utter tragedy. Every kid deserves to feel accepted and loved enough to create.

To me, one of the sweetest experiences I can have is hearing kids talk about what they’re passionate about. Because they are passionate. Stan says that you don’t have to grow up even though you get older and I absolutely love that. Kids have so much excitement about life and I think that’s something adults often lose which is a real shame. There is no better way to live than passionately.

So when I see sweet Mabel being aggressively herself and Dipper being so delighted to talk to his Grunkle Ford about what’s he’s interested in, it absolutely warms my heart. Especially because you KNOW Ford grew up being told that nobody cared about what he had to say or what he was passionate about, so you KNOW he‘ll jump at the chance to let this kiddo know that somebody does care.

And Mabel specifically really gets me. It’s so sad to me that she gets as much hate as she does. She isn’t my favorite character, but she is definitely a kid I would love spending time with. I love how sweet she is whenever she interacts with Fiddleford and I love how much effort she puts into making other people feel loved.

So yeah, I like this show a lot and tweens are wonderful.

#gravity falls #Mabel pines #dipper pines #pines twins #gravity falls meta #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #stanford pines #Zephy the English teacher #character analysis #fiddleford mcgucket

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time-is-restored · 9 months

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do you guys every think abt death vs immortality as a thoroughline in like. literally all of the mechs albums.

old king cole is explicitly warped by immortality (never to forgive he would eternal live, his hands dyed red by gore - can be read a few ways depending on where u place the emphasis, but at the very least communicates that his wrath is facilitated By his immortality), and the olympians commit attrocities in order to hold onto their wealth and the immortality that it grants them (murdering arachne, yanking heracles' chain the second he tries to go freelance, having a monopoly on the acheron etc). the value they put on immortality and living forever, and the fear they have of ever possibly losing it, has completely warped their morals and priorities.

and while it comes up less in tbi, there's still significant emphasis placed on how odin has been in power for a century (both thor + the narrator bring it up, and there's also an emphasis on how long ago the bifrost project was started, and how 'no one left living' can explain its science). her villain monologue in rangarok iv places the extinction of asgard as an honour - a ruin that no one can possibly rebuild from is called 'apotheosis'. and as she says at the end, the idea that no one can possibly outlive her is a key draw for odin. asgard dies with her.

in hnoc, the only really immortal character is brian (and we only really know that bc of knowledge we get from outside the album), but the axis of life and death as a privilege vs a curse is still very present. 'mordred's gift to Arthur could be love in his own eyes / fating him alone to keep the life to which he clings', not only posits that the gift of survival isn't inherently good + kind (which the audience would immediately recognise as love, not possibly love), but places emphasis on the fact that arthur is now utterly alone. the station's death at the hands of mordred is hardly a happy one ('Its people damned, doomed by a man who's lost all his regrets'), but arthur's fate is arguably worse. severed from the finality and closure of death, what does he become? [insert that one cool theory abt hnoc arthur becoming old king cole here]

it's like. on a meta level, the reason we as fans don't put much emphasis on the depravity + cruelty of the mechs is bc the people portraying the mechs are all charismatic + skilled performers. in live gigs they're all portraying the fun side of their characters - roasting each other, bantering with the audience, making fun of the characters they're singing about, referencing off-screen violence - bc if they portrayed their lore too literally they'd be comitting felonies LMAOOO

but narratively, its like. literally every album is a meditation on the ways that the glorification of immortality can ruin civilisations - can ruin galaxies. whether its rooted in the fear of you specifically dying, or of being outlived, or overpowered or forgotten, or if its done for the sake of someone else's survival... it's all corrosive. if u refuse to accept the indisputable impermanence of life, you lose the ability to value it, and u numb urself to the reality of just how fucked up it is to cut another person's life short for any reason.

like. i do think some of the mechs started as good people, and some of them even might still have ethical standards, but i REALLY cannot stop thinking about how fucking. fascinating it is that this group of immortals who are KNOWN for basically considering nothing but how fun and/or violent any given activity will be, have basically filled their entire discography with songs about how their continued existence is corrosive and brings tragedy + ruin wherever they go.

so how self-aware are they? do you think those old morals + ethics still linger in their mind, when they're writing down these tragedies? they willingly self identify as liars + thieves + bastards, etc etc, and they seem to have no trouble identifying the 'bad guys' in the various albums (ie: humanising snow + cinders + rose, but not king cole), but do those concepts actually mean anything emotionally, or even theoretically, for them all beyond their dramatic potential? do they remember their lives before they were mechanised as it actually happened, or do they remember it as lyrics to a song? is it possible to be entirely self aware abt ur own capacity for violence (as jonny in paticular claims to be), if you no longer relate to violence as anything other than a narrative device - a means to an end, whether comedic or dramatic?

#the mechanisms #mechanisms #mechs #its not even that i have a specific passion for super grimdark mechs characterisation #just from a thematic perspective it is SO interesting to have these characters #narrating tragedies who themselves dance in and out of narrative conventions + signifiers of good + evil #and also like. literally transform themSELVES into narratives via backstory fiction + songs #its all so like. was there ever a truth here? if its all been forgotten + replaced with stories? can any of them care about good and evil #anymore on a level beyond how it will make an audience react?#idk. i care them #mine #my writing

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lazypapers · 3 months

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do you have any HCs about how Arthur reacted to John being distant to Abigail when Jack was born? /how Arthur reacted when John showed up after a year

Oh definitely, my HC is similar to Roger Clark (the actor for Arthur). I think Arthur resented John for being distant and leaving her and his baby for a year. I imagine a couple years before Jack was born that's when he lost Isaac and that tragedy never left him and deeply effected him. He hated John for running away and taking things for granted from the very thing Arthur always sought and wanted. So when John returns, Arthur is just livid and their relationship is broken.

Arthur seemed like a character who wanted to be loved and belong in a family. He tried that with Mary, but I felt like Mary toyed with his feelings in the most wishy washy way (I get it. Like what future would you have with an outlaw). Obviously Eliza was a rebound from him breaking up with Mary. And that one night stand led to the conception of Isaac. He still chose to stay with Dutch's gang cause that was his family and he wasn't gonna stay with a girl he barely knew and didn't love. He probably tried to bring her along but she most likely didn't want to. I have this headcanon that their relationship was getting better and had potential to work. Arthur would have wanted to stay with them more often as his son got older with each visit. I would say maybe his son was like 4-5 years old the last time he saw him (since it's hinted in the game he taught a little boy fishing during the Jack fishing mission). However, this is when Dutch would manipulate Arthur severely.

He likely pressured Arthur to choose his loyalty to him and the gang over Arthur's son and Eliza. Think about it. When Hosea left to make a life with Bessie, Dutch got really messed up about it. Which explains his disgruntlement with John's loyalty and Abigail. For a bit he lost his family unit and control. He wasn't going to lose Arthur through the same thing. So he starts tightening that leash around Arthur through his low self-esteem and self-worth. He didn't want to lose his best dog. Definitely a red flag, that a lot of the gang members felt obligated that they owed Dutch just because he saved their asses (weird savior complex going on there 😬🙄).

As for why, he didn't seem all that bothered that John left. Maybe he kind of learned from his mistake with Arthur. Under his manipulation, Arthur completely broke when Isaac died (I feel like Arthur never fully recovered from that and Dutch noticed that he wasn't the "same" anymore). So not wanting to break his 2nd Golden Boy he loosened the leash. I'm pretty sure Dutch cared deeply about Arthur and John, and he isn't this evil selfish guy the way I'm describing him. That would be later in RDR1 😆, Dutch is complete bonkers in 1911. He is just incredibly flawed and super weird and a messed up way of showing he cares in 1899 prior.

Anyways I want to draw a storyline focused on the year John left and returned in the Golden Hour. Since the Golden Hour comics are basically about the close bond and eventual collapse of the gang. It would be fun to explore that part of the era of the gang. But once my wrist stops hurting and I have more time. All I can do is talk about it instead of drawing it.

#long rant #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #john marston #the golden hour #discussion #lazypapers answers #character analysis

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trickphotography2 · 19 days

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'tis the damn season | Chapter 8

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 8.3K

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 7 | Master List | Ao3

Trigger warning: panic attack, mentions of miscarriage

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Chapter 8

Julie woke to the sound of loud snoring. Biting back a groan, she resisted the urge to drive her elbow into Jake's stomach. She attempted to lift the pillow enough to put her head under it, but he'd completely abandoned his in favor of hers. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that Jake didn't snore often - it was usually after a long day or when he was exhausted.

But that was cold comfort when he sounded like a chainsaw. Gritting her teeth, Julie turned in his arms. "Jake," she said softly, not wanting to startle him awake. He didn't so much as twitch. Huffing, she gently shook him. "Babe." No response. In the dim light, she looked at him and felt her heartache at the bags under his eyes. When he was awake, he was so animated that it was easy to ignore, but she could see how tired he was. It had been a long week, and the tense set of his shoulders when he'd stood in his mama's kitchen that first day back made her wonder how much stress he'd been under back home. When she lightly ran her fingers over his cheek, the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. For a moment, she thought he had stopped snoring. But then there was a rasping noise, and his mouth fell open again, drawing in rattling breaths.

Rolling her eyes, Julie leaned forward to kiss the tip of Jake's nose before gently untangling herself from his hold and the covers. His arms tightened around her when she tried to move away, but eventually relented. Carefully climbing over him, she grabbed her clothes from the floor and tiptoed into the hallway, closing the door behind her. After detouring into the bathroom to dress and pausing to plug in the Christmas tree, she collapsed onto the couch, pulling the blanket over her lap.

Her eyes unfocused, she stared at the tree's white lights and let her thoughts wander. It had been such a long, emotionally exhausting day. She'd known that Christmas would be rough, but she hadn't anticipated it being that much of a rollercoaster. From waking up in Jake's arms to her daddy's letter, Julie felt like she'd been run through the wringer. And she knew that today wouldn't be much better. In a couple of hours, Jake would wake up and want to talk about what came next before he left. And then…

And then they would be right back to where they always were. Living two separate lives states apart.

Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes as she glanced down the dark hallway where she could hear Jake. She knew what he wanted: he would ask her to come with him to California and give them another chance. The moment he'd let those three words pass his lips, it had been written so plainly across his face. Jake still loved her and wanted to pick up where they'd left off.

A small part of her wanted to do precisely that. Julie knew that her time in Magnolia was running out. The town that had once felt so safe now felt suffocating. Everyone expected her to be the same girl she'd always been, not recognizing that she'd changed. She'd grown up in the shadow of so many people - first Mama's, then Jake's, and finally Daddy's. She'd never had the opportunity to become her own person here.

Julie wasn't sure where she wanted to go, just away. Somewhere she could figure out who she was, away from the expectations of others. Austin seemed the most realistic option, but it felt too comfortable. While she loved the city, it felt like taking another step backward - doing the safe thing. Other than her trips out to Annapolis, South Carolina, and her road trips to see Jake in flight school and Virginia, she had yet to explore much of the country.

The thought of moving somewhere blindly and hoping for the best paralyzed her with indecision. What if it was a horrible mistake?

Her heart whispered that California wouldn't be a mistake. Her rational brain reminded Julie of what happened the last time she'd followed her heart across the country. The thought of going through that again terrified her.

It kept her from telling Jake that she loved him too, the words on the tip of her tongue every time he said them. It was irrational, but she felt that Julie would promise something she wasn't sure she could follow through with when she said them.

The people in your life have always asked too much.

That line in Daddy's letter had struck her, and Julie knew what he meant by it. How many times had he told her to stand up for herself, that her voice and opinions were just as important as anyone else's, that she had to put herself first, and that she needed to stop putting her wants, hopes, and dreams secondary to others?

It had been easier to follow others' wishes for a long time. As a little girl, people pitied her for losing Mama so young. They treated her with kid gloves, ensuring she was always cared for and watched. No one wanted to hear that she wanted to scream and rage - they expected her to be the quiet little lady. As a teenager, Jake had spun stories of escaping their small town and traveling to exotic places, promising her adventures when they were married and he was in the military. Her dream of starting her own bakery paled in comparison to that.

But the one thing she would never regret was coming home when Daddy was sick. Nothing could have kept her from him when he called her and said, "Julie-bear, I have some bad news." He might regret asking her to move back to Magnolia, but she wouldn't trade in the world for that extra time with him.

Pushing away those thoughts and concerns about her long-term plans, she focused on her immediate future. She still needed an oven, especially since she had a few orders in the next couple of weeks. The last thing she wanted to do was be stuck trying to figure out a new oven's quirks while working on a wedding cake.

Grabbing her laptop, Julie pulled up the website for an appliance store and started her search. The prices would hit her savings, but it was a necessary evil. And now that she had her mama's travel fund… she pushed those thoughts away and focused on the website. The double ovens drew her attention - the idea of baking multiple things at once was so appealing - but they weren't in stock, and she wasn't willing to drop nearly $3,000. She'd been eyeing a countertop oven to do macrons in, which would get her through bigger orders.

The little voice in the back of her mind said that the huge expense wasn't worth it if she was going to sell the house. But even though Daddy had given her permission to do so, it still felt wrong to think about selling. This was her home - the kitchen doorway still held the height marks Mama had made every year on her birthday that Daddy had continued after she'd died.

Julie was so focused on her research that she failed to note the absence of snoring or clock the soft footfalls. She didn't notice Jake until he was standing at the mouth of the hallway, clearing his throat. The tree lights gave his skin a golden glow, highlighting the play of his muscles as he walked toward her. Her eyes ran the length of his naked body, a smile tugging at her lips as he came to stand behind her. Tipping her head back, she couldn't help but giggle at the sight of his hair flattened on one side and the sleepy look of disappointment on his face. "Woke up an' you weren' there," he grumbled.

"Couldn't sleep with all the racket you were makin'," Julie replied. Jake's eyes narrowed before he leaned down to kiss her, his nose brushing her chin. His lips curved into a smile, and she couldn't help but laugh against his mouth. She remembered the summer he'd insisted on perfecting the upside-down kiss, just like in the Spiderman movie. Apparently, two decades had yet to steal the skill from him.

"You're not supposed to laugh when I'm kissin' you, baby," he chuckled. “Mary Jane didn't laugh at Spiderman." At that, she laughed harder, feeling a flush of warmth that he'd been thinking the same thing. Trailing kisses down her throat, Jake placed a final kiss between her breasts before standing up. "Come back to bed? I don't wanna wake up without you again."

While he meant the words innocently enough, Julie felt the weight behind them. But that didn't stop her from closing her laptop and standing. Jake's hands wrapped around her waist as she coiled her arms around his neck. His lips were soft but insistent, and she could feel his heart beating against hers. When they broke apart, his forehead rested against hers briefly before lifting. The Christmas tree lights twinkled in his sea-glass eyes, and the words escaped before she could stop them. "I love you, Farm Boy."

"I love you too, Cupcake." She could see the growing hope in his eyes, the words forming on his tongue. Unable to face it, she kissed him again, smiling when he groaned as her fingers raked through his hair. Jake's hands skated down her body, lifting her and encouraging her legs to wrap around his hips. "Love you so goddamn much, honey," he said, staring up at her. "Come -"

Her lips covered his, cutting off his words. His cheek lifted against her palm when she cupped his face, feeling his grin as he turned and walked them back to her room. Julie tugged off her shirt and let it drop to the floor, tilting her head back when his attention shifted to her breasts. The rough sensation of his facial hair against her skin made her gasp, legs tightening around him as her hips rolled. Jake chuckled, lowering her onto the bed carefully, pausing only to tug off her pants before his body covered hers. Julie could feel his cock, heavy and hard against her thigh, and felt herself clench. Curling a leg over him, she lifted her hip, feeling his answering groan against her throat as the movement shifted him so his cock rested against her folds. "You sure you don't have a condom?" he breathed, unable to stop himself from thrusting lightly, teasing over the apex of her thighs.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say forget the condom, but Julie couldn't forget the anxiety of their two pregnancy scares. "I'm sure," she gasped when his lips closed around her nipple. Jake teased her for a moment before switching to her other breast and reaching for his phone. A quick glance at the time made him smirk against her.

"Gas station's opening soon." Julie groaned, covering her face with a hand. Chuckling, Jake gently took her wrist and pulled it away, kissing her sweetly. "Don't worry, honey. Not gonna leave my girl hangin'." Wordlessly, he trailed his lips down her body, tongue dipping into her navel before settling between her legs. His arms wrapped around her thighs, tugging them over his shoulders. His cheek grazed her inner thigh, the course texture of his short beard causing her to shift. "Dreamed about this so many times, Julie." She felt her heart skip a beat, and her breath caught when he lowered his mouth, his tongue parting her folds.

Jake was methodical as he took her apart with his talented tongue and thick fingers. Cece tugged his hair, trying to pull him away as he suckled on her clit even as her hips pressed against him. His hold tightened on her, his own hips grinding against the mattress to ease his aching dick. She tasted like heaven on his tongue, her choked gasps the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. And when her thighs closed around his head as she spasmed around his fingers, Jake thought about the rings sitting in the lockbox underneath the bed. It was too soon to ask her to put the engagement ring back on, a placeholder for the nicer one he would buy now that he could afford it. But Jake knew that's where they were headed. It's where they were always meant to be - he was her Farm Boy, and she was his Cupcake.

For now, her sated expression as she collapsed onto the pillow, lips parted and face flushed, was enough. Her hands curled around his head, gently encouraging him up her body until their mouths met. She could taste herself on his tongue, his beard damp with her arousal. He pulled away to rest his forehead against hers, bracing an arm by her head to hold most of his weight from her. Julie kept her eyes open to watch him, his breath a soft pant against her face. When his eyes finally opened, they crinkled as he smiled. "Hey," she whispered.

"Hey." He could feel her breasts brushing his chest as they breathed and fought the urge to rut against her. When her fingers combed through his hair, his eyes closed with contentment. "Keep doin' that, and I'm not gonna get out of bed."

"Would it be the worst thing?" Cece's tone was teasing, and he groaned when she pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips. Forcing himself to roll to the side, he propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at her, lightly running a finger around her nipple and watching the skin tighten at his touch.

"As good as you taste, honey, I wanna feel you come on my cock at least once before I leave." He smiled and kissed her at her sharp inhale, saying against her lips, "Preferably more."

"Better hurry, then." With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and grabbed his jeans, tugging them on as he watched Cece watch him. Carefully, he adjusted his erection before pulling up the zipper, winking when he caught her huff. After pulling on his shirt, he leaned down to kiss her again.

"Don't move," Jake ordered. "I'll be right back."

"Drive safe. Watch out for black ice."

"You forget who taught you how to drive in the snow?" he chuckled, pressing against the hand cupping him through his jeans.

"No, just know that you're gonna drive like a maniac, and you're rusty with winter skills, California boy."

"Farm Boy," Jake corrected, pressing his lips to her forehead. Cece's hand twined in his shirt, tugging him back toward her mouth. "Your Farm Boy."

"Mine," she agreed. When he didn't move away, Cece laughed and pushed against him. Jake groaned, slowly backing out of the room.

"Stay there. Promise."

"I promise." With a detour to the bathroom to steal some of her mouthwash and splash water on his face, Jake left the house, yelling his promise to hurry.

Laughing, Julie pulled back the blankets and settled in, reaching for her phone. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw the red bubble on TikTok saying she had over 20 thousand notifications.

Between the cold jog from the house and how long it took Cece's car to warm up, Jake's erection had disappeared by the time he got to the gas station. Which was good because he made a beeline for the condoms, ignoring the knowing smirk from the kid behind the counter. He looked familiar, meaning Jake probably went to school with his sibling or cousin.

Package in hand, his steps faltered as he passed the snack aisle. He wanted to make Cece breakfast before he left, but with her oven broken, he wasn't sure if that would be possible. Was the stove working? Rather than risk it, he grabbed a couple of sleeves of the chocolate donuts she'd always gotten on their road trips. It was better than nothing, and he knew how much she loved the damn things.

"Find what you were lookin' for?" the kid asked when Jake approached the counter.

"I did, thanks," he answered, placing the items in front of the kid and reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. The cashier rang up the donuts, letting the condoms sit like it would embarrass him. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Jake tapped his card on the reader as the door opened with a tinkling bell. Glancing over, he saw the firefighter—Drew—stepping inside, bringing his hands to his mouth to blow on them.

The two men eyed one another. Jake felt a hint of embarrassment that the last time he'd seen the man, he'd been half-frozen and in tears about his treacherous ex and, before that, had been trying to undo the damage done by said ex. He knew the other man cared for Cece, and if it hadn't been for witnessing their kiss at Mickey's, he probably would have thanked the man for taking care of the woman he loved.

"You want a bag?" the cashier asked, snapping them out of the silent standoff. Jake glanced over his shoulder to see the kid holding up the box of condoms and felt an unfamiliar blush creep over his cheeks.

"Yeah," he said, feeling Drew staring at him. Jake glanced over his shoulder, watching the other man move toward the coffee station. He suppressed a sigh, wishing he was back in San Diego, where the city was big enough to avoid awkward encounters like this. Snatching the bag from the cashier, he quickly exited the gas station and hurried toward Cece's car. As he turned the ignition, he saw Drew watching him, his face the picture of resignation.

He would have to let Cece know about the run in, in case Drew decided to say something about it. And while he hated the idea of her being forced to have an awkward conversation, he couldn't deny that it felt good that the other man knew how serious he was about Cece. Even if he was leaving today, he wanted to ensure that every busybody and gossip in Magnolia knew exactly how much Jake Seresin loved Julie Ryan and how serious he was about her. About them. About getting back together and back on track to where they always should have been.

Jake glanced at the clock as he pulled onto Cece's street. He'd need to start heading to the airport in five hours - more than enough time to make a dent in the box of condoms and say goodbye to his family. Without his rental car, he'd need someone to drive him to the airport, and Cece had volunteered the night before, saying she would order her new oven on the way back. While he didn't want to do the sad airport goodbye, the two-hour drive would give him extra time to convince her to come for a visit in the next few weeks. If he could show her how great California was, he might be able to persuade her to move out there. If not, they would figure it out. He had just over two years left on his new contract, and if he had to figure out a way to keep the relationship going long distance and then turn in his wings? He'd do it.

The sun was just rising as he parked in the driveway. A smile tugged at his mouth as he thought about what waited for him inside. That this could be his new normal - nights sleeping in Cece's arms, waking up to her kisses, and coming home to her after a long day. He could picture her in his kitchen, countertops covered with her baking and machines. Her things crowding his bathroom sink. Her clothes beside his in the closet. Or they could find a new place. A little bungalow where they could build their life together and raise a couple of kids.

But those thoughts disappeared when he opened the front door and saw Cece on the couch. It wasn't until he opened his mouth to tease her about not being where he left her that he saw tears streaming down her face as she looked at her phone, running a hand through her hair. "What's wrong?" Jake demanded, tossing the plastic bag onto the coffee table and sitting beside her. When he tried to pull her into his arms, Cece pushed him away and stood. "Honey? Talk to me."

"I -" she gasped before pressing a hand to her mouth. Unable to get the words out, she tapped something on her phone screen. Jake paled as he heard Shayla's voice.

"Get un-ready with me while I give you a sad update about my pregnancy after my fiancé cheated with another creator on this app."

Jake was on his feet in an instant, reaching for the phone. His fingers brushed Cece's as he took it, and she yanked her hand away as though she'd been scalded. On-screen, he watched with growing horror as Shayla cried crocodile tears while removing her makeup, dark mascara tears dripping down her face as she spun a web of lies about how Jake had brought her home to introduce her to his family and announce their pregnancy. How he made sure to run into his ex-fiancée and didn't tell her who she was. The whole family lied to her, and Shayla only found out when she stumbled across the truth when she found old pictures of them in his room - she actually showed one of him and Cece at the local fair as teens, his arm thrown casually over her shoulder, and another from when he proposed at his graduation. She went on about how unwelcome the family made her, even after they found out about the baby. And how she caught Jake and Julie kissing. After she confronted Jake about it, he told her to get over it because Julie was always going to be a part of his life.

The most damning "evidence" was the video she'd taken at Cece's house, confronting them on Christmas for sleeping together. He was half-naked, and Cece peeked out behind him with her sleep-tousled hair. Shayla accused Jake of choosing his ex over his new family. She sobbed that he had kicked her out into the cold and told her to find her own way back to California. That they were done, and he didn't care about the baby. And how the stress of it all had made her miscarry, losing the one bright spot of the entire relationship.

But the worst part was that Shayla had tagged Cece in the video. As Jake watched the video, comment notifications continuously popped up on the top of the screen faster than he could swipe them away. His heart broke with every one he saw.

Whore.

Slut.

Homewrecker.

Murderer.

Death threats.

The video started over, and Jake quickly locked the phone, unwilling to hear Shayla's lies again. He let it slip from his fingers, and it thudded loudly on the floor. Cece sniffled, and he forced himself to move. She was hurting, and he needed to fix it. "Baby," he breathed, stepping toward her.

"Don't touch me," Cece snapped, moving out of his reach. They stared at one another; tears clouded Jake's vision as he looked at her. This was his fault. She was hurting because of him. Because he'd brought Shayla into her life. When she finally spoke, the venom in Cece's voice was like a punch to the gut. "H-how did she know you were here?"

"I don't…" And then Jake felt his stomach drop. "Fuck." Pulling his phone from his pocket, he quickly entered the code and opened the location-sharing app. After they'd gotten back together, Shayla had suggested it to regain his trust. He'd added it and promptly forgot about it with everything else going on. "I forgot…she can see where I am." Quickly, he disabled the sharing, but the damage had already been done. "Honey, I'm so sorry." Her phone screen lit as more notifications popped up.

"You should go." Cece trembled as she closed her eyes and turned her face away, unable to bear the sight of him. Her shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arm around herself.

"Cece -"

"Go, Jake." Rather than listen, he moved closer and tried to hold her. Julie knocked his hands away, anger and hurt etched on her face. "I said don't touch me!"

"Cece, please - you know that it's all lies."

"It doesn't matter!" she shrieked, pointing at the phone. "All that matters is that people believe what she said. And what it looks like. And—and," Julie's chest heaved as she struggled to draw a breath. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest as it struggled against the bands around her ribs. The edges of her vision blurred, and she felt a flush of heat.

Jake watched as Cece clawed at her throat and quickly closed the distance between them, catching her hands and holding tight when she tried to pull away from him. "Hey," he said, voice firm. "Hey, look at me, Julie."

"I can't breathe," she gasped.

"Yes, you can, baby." His brows were furrowed with worry as he watched her. Recognition from his early days of flight training kicked in as he spoke calmly. "You're hyperventilating, honey. Need you to slow your breathing." Guiding one of her hands to her stomach, he said, "Breathe from here, Julie. Not from your chest - all the way down in your belly." Jake inhaled deeply and held it for four seconds before blowing it out. "Breathe with me now, baby," he said softly, placing her other hand on his heart. "In for the count of four. Hold it for four. Blow out for four. That's it, honey, again." Counting to four repeatedly, Jake watched the flush fade from Cece's face, sweat dotting her skin. When her knees wobbled, his hands closed around her elbows, helping to gently guide her to the floor as she continued to focus on her breathing. "That's right, baby, again. In - two, three, four. Hold - two, three, four…"

Tears streamed down Cece's face, and her hand dropped from his chest when he released it to wipe her face. His own tears went unchecked when she started to sob, gasping breaths that threatened to undo all her hard work. Shifting closer, he pulled her into his chest, ignoring the way she weakly pushed against him, her hands fisted in his shirt. He ensured his grip was loose enough that she wouldn't feel trapped. "I love you, Julie. You're alright, honey. I've got you," Jake murmured against her temple, pressing kisses into her hair.

Eventually, Cece's sobs turned into sniffles and hiccups, and she seemed to sag against him. Her hands loosened in his shirt and fell away. Slowly, she lifted her head from the crook of his neck, and the blank expression on her face made Jake's gut clench. It was hard to reconcile her with the woman he'd laughed with less than an hour ago. Cupping her face, he ran his thumbs under her eyes before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "I love you, Cupcake. It's gonna be okay."

"They're calling me a homewrecking murderer. On my videos with Daddy." Her voice was flat, but her chin wobbled again. Jake never felt so helpless before.

"You're not, baby. You did nothing wrong. She was never pregnant, honey. That fuckin' bitch is just trying to hurt me, and she knows the best way to do that is through you."

"Every video. All those people…"

"Hey," he said, tilting her head so she would meet his gaze. Though their eyes met, hers were still dead. "Those people don't know you, Julie. It doesn't matter what they think. You and me? We know the truth, and we didn't do anything wrong."

"We kissed. I kissed -"

"I kissed you," he said firmly. "You did nothing wrong. I was wrong to do it, but not you, Julie. You hear me? You don't deserve any of this." Jake felt a flicker of hope when her shaking hands covered his, drawing them from her face until she placed them at his side and slid out of his lap.

"You should go."

"What? Cece, I'm not -"

"I want you to leave."

"Julie -"

"Please."

"I love you."

"I don't care."

Jake had never felt pain before hearing those three words. The easy way they rolled off Cece's tongue so dispassionately. A simple statement of fact - she didn't care that he loved her. That he would do anything to protect her from this. To fix this. "I love you, Julie," he repeated, voice rough with tears. Wanting her to take those words back. "Please don't make me leave you? Stay with me, baby, please." When he leaned forward to kiss her, she turned so his lips brushed her damp cheek.

"I don't want to be near you right now." She pushed to her feet, and Jake caught her limp hands, scrambling to stand. When he stepped closer, she shuffled backward, pulling away from his touch. Crossing the few steps to the front door, she opened it and looked at the floor.

"Baby."

"Please." Gritting his teeth, Jake walked toward her and cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes, searching for any flicker of emotion. But she'd shut him out. He'd thought that her leaving him in Virginia had been hard, but this was agony - this time, he knew exactly what he'd done to cause them this pain. The taste of salt and sadness merged when their lips brushed, and he rested his forehead against hers.

"I'm going to get my stuff from my parents', and then I'll be back. We'll figure this out, honey, I swear it."

The door closed behind him when he stepped onto the porch, and Jake stood there for a long moment before forcing his feet to move. The sooner he got his stuff, the sooner he'd be back.

"- bitch!"

"- you think my son would do that, Betty Roberts, you've got another thing coming -"

"Ally, you know what the doc said about your blood pressure."

"I don't give a fuck. She's not gonna get away with this, Will -"

"You can take your gossip and shove it where the sun don't shine, Betty!" Mama snapped. Jake hesitated in the doorway momentarily before shaking himself and jogging up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He threw open his bedroom door and grabbed his duffle, tossing it on the bed before collecting his things. Clothes were tossed haphazardly into the bag, and he didn't pause when Will appeared in his doorway.

"Hey, thought I heard you come in. You okay?"

"Do I fucking look okay?" Jake hissed.

"Stupid question. How's Julie?"

"About how you'd expect when the internet's calling you a - " he couldn't even say the word. Not about Cece.

"Right." Will scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say to his little brother. "Uh… you need me to do anything?"

"I need to see if I can change my flight to a later one. I still…" Jake grimaced, running a hand down his face. "I still have to leave today, so I'm not absent over leave." When he'd bought the tickets, he'd wanted to get home with enough time to get settled before work tomorrow. Now, he regretted picking the earlier flight over the late afternoon one.

"On it."

"Jake?" Mama asked, coming up behind Will. The older man raised his eyebrows and quickly backed out of the room. "Where's Julie?"

"At her house. I just came by to get my stuff, and I'm headed back." Jake saw his mama twisting her hands when he heard the door shut.

"I have to ask. I know that that woman lied a lot in her video" - he grimaced at the thought of his parents seeing that - "but did you tell her who Julie was to you?"

"I…I told her that she was an old family friend. And the only other part of that fuckin' thing that's true is that I kissed Cece before ending it with Shayla. All the rest of it is lies."

"Jacob." Her sigh was filled with disappointment as she closed her eyes. "Son -"

"I'm not gonna apologize. Not after all her lies and what she did."

"I'm not going to defend her. I think she's horrible, and I'm relieved I don't have to have her as a daughter-in-law. And you know how much we love Julie, but -"

"But nothing."

"But you kissed another woman when you were engaged. And that is never okay."

Standing to his full height, Jake put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Normally, Mama, I'd agree with you. But not when it comes to her. I broke up with Shayla because we didn't work, and I wasn't happy. And then she lied and told me she was pregnant and I wouldn't see my kid if I didn't marry her. I tried to make it work. And she lied about all of it. There was never a baby. My only regret is believing her and bringing her here. I shoulda never done that to y'all or Cece."

Mama paled, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Oh, son. We thought… we heard you yelling about her not being pregnant, but we thought that maybe she had…"

The unspoken accusation stung, and Jake let out a watery laugh. "I would have never been mad at her for miscarrying. I wouldn't have married her, but I wouldn't have been mad."

"That's not what I meant - "

"It is." Between that and Pops saying he didn't like the person Jake was, he was ready to get out of there. Slinging his bag onto his shoulder, he patted his pockets to ensure he had his wallet and phone, tugging on his Longhorns cap. With another cursory glance around the room, he nodded and stepped toward the door. Mama stood in front of it, and she reached for him, but he dodged. Pausing long enough to kiss the side of her head, he sighed, "I love you, but I need to go."

The resignation on her face hurt, but she nodded. "Make sure to say bye to your father. I love you, Jacob. And nothing's gonna change that." Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he dropped his bag in the kitchen. Ally was ranting about the video, and Jake hesitated before taking out his phone. If his family thought that he left Shayla for a miscarriage, he needed to fix that immediately. Pulling up the screenshots, he wordlessly placed the device next to Will, who was looking up plane tickets for him, and left for the barn.

It took a minute to find him, but Pops was inspecting the equipment in the milk tank shed before he went to get the cows from the field. When the door opened, he looked up from his clipboard. The weary expression on his face let Jake know he'd seen the video, too. "Son."

"I'm leaving. I need to get back to Cece." Pops nodded, tucked the clipboard under his arm, and studied his youngest.

"She's a good girl, Jake." He nodded, unsure of where this was going. "Trust takes a long time to build and a second to break. Just make sure you know what you're doing there."

"I love - "

"I know you love her," Pops said, holding up a hand to stop him. "Just… be careful." The tug back to Cece was strong, but Jake needed his Pops to understand what had happened. He needed him to know that being with Shayla was his attempt to follow what he'd been taught - family is the priority.

"Pops," Jake gasped. And the story spilled out of him. He told him about meeting Shayla when he was lonely. How she started filming and ignoring how uncomfortable he was with it. He badly wanted a marriage and family, and he tricked himself into thinking they could have that. And then realizing he didn't love or even really like her. His stupid action on Halloween and finding out about the 'pregnancy.' How he'd begged for Shayla to let him have the baby and her blackmail. He told Pops about convincing himself he loved her and that they could make it work when they got married for the baby's sake.

Tears slipped down his cheeks as Jake told him about seeing Cece again. How he regretted losing her and discovering his stupidity was why she'd left in the first place. How easy it was being with her, and the night they'd stayed up baking - listening to music, catching up, and dancing - had been the happiest he'd felt in years. Nothing had happened until he gave into a delirious moment of weakness and kissed her, unsure if it was a dream until she'd shoved him away. Of the guilt, knowing that he'd done that as his pregnant fiancée slept, or so he thought. How Shayla had intentionally destroyed Cece's work to punish him. Jake told Pops about Shayla's ultimatum of not seeing Cece again and being ready to make that sacrifice for his family. About how jealous he'd felt seeing Cece kiss the fireman, knowing he didn't have the right to feel that way.

And then seeing the texts. The anger at knowing he'd been lied to, the grief of losing a child he'd never had, and the relief of not having to marry someone he didn't love. How numb he'd felt when the news sank in, and the comfort he'd felt when Cece cared for him. How shitty he felt when she finally broke down, knowing that he should have been there for her through all of it but hoping that maybe they could fix this. That they could work out all of their problems and be together. Then seeing the video. And being helpless to do anything as strangers believed a lie and tore them apart. Of Cece's panic attack before she shut down and kicked him out.

"I tried, Pops," he gasped. "I just… I don't know how it got so fucked up." Bill sighed, placing his clipboard on the tank before pulling his son into his arms, hand resting on the back of his head. Jake shook with suppressed tears, gasping for breath.

"It's alright, son. We'll figure this out." But as much as Jake wanted to believe his father, he couldn't.

A strange car was in Cece's driveway when he pulled her SUV in. Grabbing his bag from the passenger seat, Jake leapt the porch steps, fumbling with her keys. He'd been gone too long, and the clock was already working against them. Will hadn't been able to get his plane ticket switched - the later flight from Amarillo to Dallas was sold out, so Jake had to leave in two hours or face disciplinary action for not reporting to work tomorrow.

"I'm ba -" Jake stopped short as the door refused to open past a crack. His eyes drifted up, catching on the chain that barred his entry. "Cece? Honey, it's me."

But the woman who appeared wasn't Cece. Anger and disgust were written across her face as she glared at him. "What are you doing here, Seresin? Haven't you caused enough problems?"

The voice helped him recognize the woman he hadn't seen in over a decade. "Lucy, please, I just need -"

"To leave," Cece's best friend since elementary school cut him off. "You just need to leave. She doesn't want to see you."

"Then she can tell me that." Her laugh was cruel, and he threw a hand out to keep her from shutting the door in his face.

"I'm pretty sure she already did that, asshole. Now give me her keys and go back to whatever hole you crawled out from. Jules was doing fine before you got here, and she's gonna be even better when you disappear from her life. Again."

"Here," he said, thrusting the keys into the gap between the door and frame; she quickly took them. "Fine. But I'm not leaving. Not until she talks to me."

Lucy shook her head. "You know what I've spent the last hour doing? I've been going through her business email and getting rid of the horrible things people are saying about her. These assholes are sending her interest forms for her cakes and telling her to write 'baby killer' on them. Because of you, Jake."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Fuck. And fuck you for bringing this onto her." Her eyes ran the length of him before she shook her head. "Call someone to come get you because I'm not letting you in this house."

"That's not your choice."

"Right now, it is. So let me do something you never could and protect Julie from you hurting her again." The deadbolt locking was loud in the morning air.

Jake stared at the door for a long moment before lifting his fist and knocking. "Cece, please open up!" He heard Lucy telling him to go away but ignored her. "Baby, just talk to me!" But there was no answer. Gritting his teeth, he rested his head against the wood. "Julie, please." Tears pricked at his eyes. After a long moment, he turned and slid down the door, dropping his head into his hands.

Cold seeped into his clothes as he sat there, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood waking. His phone went off at some point, and he glanced at it to see that Fanboy had sent Shayla's video in the Dagger chat with a plea for it not to be true. Unable to stomach the idea of talking to them, Jake sent the screenshots and silenced the chat. He ignored Mama's messages, asking if he was alright. Pops had promised to talk to Mama, and Jake knew she probably felt bad about her assumption, but he didn't have it in him to comfort her at the moment.

When his fingers and toes went numb, he stood and stamped his feet to get the blood flowing, blowing on his hands. The cold winter sun did little to warm him, but he stepped off the porch and tried to soak it in. A glance at his watch showed he'd already lost an hour. Grimacing, he fumbled for his phone with clumsy fingers and glanced over the texts from his family without responding. The Dagger chat was full of angry messages on his behalf, which also went unanswered.

With nothing else to do, he pulled up TikTok. Reluctantly, he navigated to Shayla's page and paused the video so he wouldn't have to hear her before looking at the comments. They were horrible. He was getting destroyed by them, but so was Cece. Unable to stomach them, he navigated to her page and clicked on her first video. He was relieved that comments had been disabled, so she wasn't subjected to any more hate. But as he searched, he found that others had picked up on the video and were doing reactions to it. Others had looked through Cece's video and picked up on his minor appearance in her one about preparing for the Mayor's party - they saw his watch as he reached for something and connected it to one of his many shots in Shayla's videos.

Sitting on the steps, he scrolled the app, hating every moment. Seeing a few people defending Cece was heartening, but they were drowned out by the negativity.

The sound of a front door opening made him jump to his feet in time to see Cece stepping outside. Her eyes were red and puffy, and Jake knew she'd been crying again. "Honey," he breathed, hurrying up the steps as she closed the door. But she held out a hand to stop him when he reached for her. A blanket was folded over her arm, and a coffee mug in hand.

"I didn't know you were here. I… I fell asleep not long after Lucy got here."

"Good. I'm glad you got some rest. Are you okay? Or" - he tugged off his hat and ran a nervous hand through his hair - "as good as you can be?" Her only answer was a shrug. He took the blanket she held out and threw it over his shoulders, tugging it close before taking a hesitant step toward her. He nearly groaned at the warmth soaking into his frozen fingers when she handed him the coffee mug. "Thanks." Cece nodded, shoving her hands into her coat pockets and hunching her shoulders as her eyes dropped. She refused to meet his gaze as he sipped the coffee. Sighing, he set the mug down and closed the space between them, opening the blanket and pulling her into his arms.

Cece tensed, then shivered. "You're freezing," she breathed.

"'M fine," he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head. After a moment, her arms wrapped around him, hands sweeping up and down his back to try and warm him up. "I love you." The silence stretched painfully.

"I love you too," Cece finally said, and Jake felt like he could breathe for the first time since he left the house this morning. His arms tightened around her, and she ducked her head to rest her forehead on his shoulder.

"I love you so much, baby," he said again. "We're gonna get through this." They were silent, taking comfort from one another for a long time. A truck turned onto the street, and Jake watched his sister-in-law park behind Lucy's car. She lifted a hand but made no move to get out. Frowning, he pulled back. "What's Ally doing here?"

"I asked her to drive you to the airport," Cece said, eyes focused on his chin rather than meeting his. "I don't… I'm not okay to drive."

"Will you come with me?" Gently forcing her chin up, he studied her face and forced a wry smile. "I want you to come to San Diego, but I'll settle for the airport for now."

"I'm tired, Jake. And… I think the space would be good for us right now." Her words, softly spoken, were like a knife to his gut.

"Julie…"

"Safe travels, Jake." But he refused to let her go when she tried to pull away. His eyes darted across her face, taking in her carefully blank expression. Still, the sadness and exhaustion were unmistakable in her eyes.

"This isn't… you're not…" he forced himself to take a breath as his heart raced. "Don't disappear on me. Please, honey."

"Text me when you're home." When he leaned down, Jake hesitated a moment and felt a rush of relief when Cece closed the gap to kiss him. "I love you, Farm Boy."

"I love you too, Cupcake."

Jake stood outside his apartment, exhaustion weighing him down as he unlocked the door. He was so ready to get inside and block everything out for the rest of the day. While Ally had done her best to distract him during their drive to Amarillo - feeling Tyler move was strange, and they'd had to stop a few times for her to use the bathroom - he hadn't been able to push away his worry for Cece. He wanted to be back in Magnolia, helping manage the fallout and holding her.

People stared at the airport, and one even hissed 'cheater' as he walked past. He put his headphones in and tugged his hat over his eyes while sitting at his gate. During his layover in Dallas, he'd texted Cece. It wasn't until he was boarding that she texted back, thanking him for the chocolate donuts.

It felt like ages since he'd bought those, not just that morning.

There was a weird smell in his apartment when Jake kicked off his shoes. For a brief moment, he thought it was just from being closed up for a week until he saw the kitchen counters were covered in something. Frowning, he walked closer and saw that ketchup, mustard, and chocolate sauce had dried on the surfaces. The kitchen floor was covered in a white powder, an empty bag of flour tossed in the middle. Every cabinet, drawer, and even the oven was open. "What the fuck?" he snapped, turning on the lights. His fingers accidentally brushed the ceiling fan, and he sputtered as glitter rained down and the fan started to turn. He hadn't realized that the floor was sparkling until then.

And then Jake remembered that he'd given Shayla a key.

"Fuck!" he growled. His bedroom door was open, and he carefully walked toward it. The blanket and sheets had been torn off his bed, and the smell of his cologne was overwhelming. The now empty bottle sat on the bedside table, and his shoes were tied to the ceiling fan. A pile of uniforms and flight suits was on the floor, covered in what he hoped was shaving cream. A melted line of chocolate bars dripped down his windowsill. His dresser drawers had been pulled out and turned over. All of his clothes in the closet had been tossed onto the floor. Reluctantly, he went into his bathroom and saw that CHEATER was written in lipstick across his mirror. There was a disgusting smell, and a glance at his shower curtain showed strings of shrimp strung on fishing line hanging from the rod.

Fury blinded him, and Jake threw his duffle on the floor. Taking out his phone, he started to record the damage Shayla had done. And then, before putting too much thought into it, he turned the camera around and scowled at it. "Shayla Thompson was never pregnant. She lied to you for views and me because she didn't want to lose followers after I broke up with her. And I have proof."

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Author's Note: We knew Shayla wasn't going to go down without a fight. And now Cece has more than just Magnolia staring and whispering about her. All Jake wanted was a quiet morning with the love of his life and time to convince her to come to California, and now he has to deal with all of this. Lucy was harsh with him, but she's just looking out for her best friend.

As always, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for letting me scream in her inbox. She's also part of the reason that Cece gave Jake a chance on the porch, because the original plan was for her to kick him out of the house and refuse to see him before he had to fly out.

Taglist: @mamachasesmayhem; @buckysteveloki-me; @fanficfandomlove; @maeleeme; @djs8891; @kmc1989; @justenoughmadness; @shanimallina87; @lynnevanss; @dempy; @emilyoflanternhill; @midnightmagpiemama; @sordidfairytale; @vivalas-vega; @eloquentdreamer; @roosterforme; @mizzzpink; @memoriesat30; @dizzybee03; @itsdesiree86; @sorchathered; @boisewaffles; @blue-aconite; @fudge13; @wretchedmo; @redbarn1995; @the-shy-type; @liftoff451-blog; @yuckosworld

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below. I do check that readers are 18+

#top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #'tis the damn season fic

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howlingday · 18 days

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Lord Taurus

Adam: Hello, ningen~!

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Adam: Ha ha... Your threats are as empty as your title.

Adam: All hail Weiss Schnee, heiress to nothing!

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Adam: Well, well, this could be quite salubrious for me.

Corsac: I'm not sure I...

Fennec: ...know what that means.

Adam: It means "beneficial to one's health and well-being," you dolts!

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Yang: Thanks for the assist, Ozp-AGH!

Adam: ...Oops! How rude of me. The pommel of my sword has slipped into your chest~.

Yang: Heh heh... No problem.

Adam: HURGH!

Yang: Sorry 'bout that. My fist just happened to punch your chest "on accident," too.

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Harriet: It's a simple fact; I'm the fastest member of the Ace Operatives!

Adam: So you're a master of retreat, eh? You must be so proud.

Harriet: (Activates Super-Speed) Get ready for a surprise!

Adam: ...

Harriet: (Running in place) My semblance will allow me to dodge your sinister and nefarious attacks with the greatest of ease! JUST TRY AND HIT ME! (Blinks out)

Adam: ...I'm just going to let that play out.

Harriet: (Attacking Adam, Missing)

Adam: (Backhands Harriet)

Harriet: Rgh! B-But how?!

Adam: That's funny, because I was about to ask the same to you. As in, "But how do you expect such pitiful attacks could do any damage to topple a top tier titan like me?"

Adam: (Grips sword) A grievous insult I intend to pay back tenfold.

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Adam: Is Yang not here yet?

Penny: No, but she's on her way!

Adam: Oh, look at that; the toy robot from Atlas. I remember watching you die on-screen before Cinder took over. I guess the Maiden's powers can bring back both the powerful AND the pathetic!

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Weiss: YOU'RE ACTUALLY MAKING ME HOLD ADAM'S HAND?!

Adam: Heh heh heh... There's nothing for you to be scared of Schnee. I won't bite.

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Adam: Well, well, it seems the woman of the hour has finally arrived! I've been waiting a long time for you! And I see your Schnee friend is with you, too. I would be surprised, but ningen never were good at fighting alone, were they?

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Ruby: Huh? It's you...

Adam: Salutations, ningen~!

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Adam: I remember when Nikos' partner was just a shrimpy, little thing. It's so touching to see boys becoming men.

Jaune: Adrian, stay back!

Adrian: But Uncle Jaune-

Jaune: You don't stand a chance against him, so just leave him to me!

Adrian: (Pouts)

Adam: What tender love~! I can barely stomach it. When I'm done with him, I'll kill the brat, too, so you can hold hands together in Hell. (Blinks out)

Jaune: Huh?!

Adam: (Behind him) NOTHING PERSONAL, KID.

Nora/Ren: JAUNE!

Jaune: AUGH! (Falls to the ground)

Adam: ...I'm sorry, but I don't think you understand how this works. Once you're on the ground and can't move, you're supposed to beg me for mercy! Say you'll do anything to spare your nephew's life!

Jaune: Ngh!

Adam: Come on! Let's hear it, boy! Cry for me! Scream! SOAK YOUR FACE IN TEARS AND TEAR OFF YOUR ARMOR IN FRUSTRATION! AHAHAHAHAHA! Not that I would let you live, but it's all part of the fun for me!

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Pyrrha: (Struggling)

Adam: Oh, I do respect powerful fighters. But there's one other facet to my character, which is...

Adam: THERE'S NOTHING I DESPISE MORE THAN NINGEN.

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Adam: That's it, Xiao Long! Keep getting stronger! Be your best lizard!

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Adam: Care to put her to the test?

Adam: (Draws blade)

Willow: (Shakes head)

SHKT!

Adam: (Sheathes, Ahem)

Adam: ...WINTER, LOOK! IT'S SUCH A TRAGEDY!

Winter: Huh?!

Adam: IT'S YOUR MOTHER! SHE'S BEEN FATALLY WOUNDED BY A STRAY ATTACK!

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Ozpin: There must be something you care about! The White Fang?! Loved ones?! Memories?! Everyone has SOMETHING they want to protect-

Adam: You're pissing me off! I don't care about anything or anyone. Hm... Except for myself, of course.

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Adam: I can't stand the sight of your pitiful, broken faces wearing MY masks...

Adam: (Grips handle)

Blake: (Eyes widen) EVERYONE RUN, NOW!

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Yang: You're definitely not a pushover, that's for sure. If you weren't so evil, you'd actually be a fun sparring partner. What a waste of talent.

Adam: It's exactly that kind of small-minded drivel that makes ningen like you so especially intolerable.

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Adam: WAKE UP! Torture isn't any fun if I can't hear you scream! (Stabs Yang's prone body)

Yang: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

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Adam: Attention, brothers and sisters of the White Fang...

Adam: (Points)

Penny: Huh?!

Adam: I will grant ownership of any human settlement to any one of you who can slice that Atlas toy in half!

Penny: What?!

Adam: Ha ha ha! History repeats, with only certain details that change. And when Xiao Long shows up, she'll give in to her rage again, leaving her wide-open for me cut not just her arm, but her head off, too!

#rwby #dragon ball #dragon ball super #adam taurus #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #blake belladonna #corsac albain #fennec albain #penny polendina #ozpin #adrian cotta arc #willow schnee #winter schnee

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clovenhoofedjester · 2 months

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jellicle lineups; part 2/4

MOREEEE !!! MOREEEE !!!

rumpleteazer | 💰 🍹 🃏

PIGTAILS RUMP! PASTEL RUMP. blond rump. that is all. i really love that design. so i use it. the face markings are also meant to look like a stereotypical robber mask. i realized she looks a little fox-like while drawing her, which i didnt mind ! its fun !

her clothing design was already laid out for her so i left it virtually unchanged, asides from the pattern itself. imagine wearing clothes w a print of your best friends hair . that is rumpleteazer

even though 1 of her 3 words are impressionable, i think she is smarter than she lets on. i also think skimbleshanks is her dad. she'd be about 21 in human years

mungojerrie | 💸 🎰 🍾

PIGTAILS JERRIE AS WELL, BITCH ! i saw a jerrie w pigtails after i drew this and i felt so vindicated. i also based his design directly on 2019 mungojerrie because ommgggg transgender calico? trans little calico? i thought he deserved some pearls too. as well as a bell collar! it makes cats sneakier.

his clothing design is left unchanged too, asides from some fluff. he is also wearing a print of his best friends hair . smile 😃

hes just a funny fella. he totally doesnt have a history or anything. hed be 21 in human years

coricopat | 🍷 🔮 ♟

coricopat is pretty close to their replica design—the biggest difference being that the red in their design is warmer/purpler. that and the silver collar! i also had no idea what i was doing with her fit, so expect it to change in the upcoming art i do of him. i just wanted something gothy and flowy

hes also based on thalia, the muse of comedy. to keep the greek mythology theme going, and because i thought it was funny, and because (2x) i like... The Gimmick

i swear to god this cat knows things we dont. hed be like 22 in human years

tantomile | 🎭 🍩 🗝

tantomile is also close to his replica design. she has a gold collar. like i said w/ coricopat, the outfit is subject to change

as she was based on melpomene, the muse of tragedy, i decided to sacrifice identical makeup for the white mark on their muzzle being downturned like the frown of the tragedy mask :] giggle. smile

listen to all advice tantomile gives you. shed be also like 22 in human years

george | 🥏 🧋 🛹

i just had to give this (technical) swing some love. bless this happy background cat and his little :D smile. i decided to give him a simple little fit and made his fur/markings less plain white w some stripes. i think i also based his makeup off a victor costume ??

i think hes pouncival's older brother. hed also be 23 in human years

mr. mistoffelees | 🪄 ☕ 🌬

my silly, my funny. my little guy. i based their general Vibe on his john napier concept art, obc mistoffelees, 1990 paris mistoffelees, 2019 mistoffelees, and like. a fairys kiss of brentoffelees. i wish id have given him a bit of that il sistina style but i already had so many things going on LOL

it was definitely a very fun challenge to balance all of these. i also draw attention to the single white shoe—the cutest detail of timmy scotts misto

i definitely prefer a more visually unnerving, grown misto. and absolutely torn between portraying him as mute or verbal because on one hand... mute misto is so good. on the other hand.... oh my god. timothy scotts voice.jesus christ . i think hed be 23 in human years

the rum tum tugger | 🎤 🍽 🪞

WELCOME TO MY TWISTED WORLD. i really tried to keep tugger as cis guys i really did. but the thrall of a visually transgender tugger was too much to ignore. i already explained a lot of his design choices in my first posted drawing of it but like... blauhh... thigh garter, heart, golden whiskers/lashes. they are there. i also made his makeup a wee more theatrical w/ white on the chin to visually separate him from partridges tugger

i also decided to base his fur more on his obc design. like. terrence mann tugger. platinum blond spotted mane and head fur and such. i think it looks really good

im trying to hit the sweet spot between the goofy/serious/whiny/promiscuous portrayals of the him..... the man contains multitudes, you see. hed also be like 24 in human years and it goes without saying that hes one of deuts sons

AND THATS IT. stay tuned for more !

#cats the musical #cats musical #cats 1998 #character design #chibi #sfw furry #rumpleteazer #mungojerrie #coricopat #tantomile #george #mr. mistoffelees #the rum tum tugger #my art

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maccharliedennis · 6 months

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Check it out y'all !!! I drew something to contribute to @malewifemanhunter 's @sunnyhalloweenzine !!!

Every fandom needs at least one or two Monster AUs so here's my take on one for Sunny 🌞💖👻

I really loved doing this and was so glad I got the chance to be part of the zine!!! I low-key want to draw so many more characters for this AU.

🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN YALL!!!!! 🎃

More Monstery fun under the cut!!!! 👇👇👇👇

Mac: In my vision of this AU, genetics play a very limited role in what type of monster someone is. Just because someone's parents are vampires doesn't mean they will be one too. But it was still shocking for Mac when he finally came to the conclusion that he was a Cupid instead of a Gargoyle like his father, or an Ash Elemental like his mother. As a Cupid, most of his power is tied to passionate emotion. He's able to influence others emotional states, and can even inspire feelings of love. Or at least, he could if he ever actually practiced using these abilities. It's a lot easier to talk up his powers than it is to put the work into refining them.

Dennis: As a true monster, Dennis possesses limited shape shifting abilities but only uses them to squish himself down into a human skin to avoid being perceived in his true form. To be fair to him though, his true form is more physically vulnerable when exposed. It may look scary, but his skin is easily pierced and most of those appendages evolved for showing off to potential mates, not combat. Or maybe he hides in a skinsuit so that his sexual interests never find out that he has a giant toothy maw with snapping, grabbing pinchers between his legs instead of a dick.

Dee: I rlly wanted to go for monster types that weren't the obvious choice, which is why I opted to make Dee a Wraith instead of a Harpy or Banshee. But like....I knew I had 2 include birds SOMEHOW....hence why her physical form and powers can be effected by psychic energy 🐦 👻. She has the ability to emit a piercing screech that both terrifies and harms those who hear it. She's also able to predict when a tragedy is about to occur, but isn't able to determine whether it will be someone else's tragedy or her own. Unfortunately for her, it usually seems to be the latter.

Charlie: yeah yeah Charlie gets to be extra stuff bc he's my special girl (just like in my Pokemon AU) . His abilities as both a poltergeist and a wererat make him extremely hardy and he's able to withstand almost anything. His poltergeist half can cause problems for him, however, if he tries to venture too far from where his soul is tied to. His abilities are the strongest when he's at these tethering spots (the bar and the waitress), and he quickly becomes extremely weak and almost imperceptible if he goes outside the city limits of Philadelphia. To solve this problem, the Gang has formed a habit of kidnapping the Waitress for any trips they take.

Frank: Frank is here too 🧌. Not much is known for sure about his past and what IS known seems to contradict itself quite frequently. He claims to have made most of his money in the 70s from exploiting monsters of his very own type back on "The Street".

#iasip #always sunny #dennis reynolds #macdennis #charlie kelly #mac mcdonald #dee reynolds #frank reynolds #its always sunny in philadelphia #moi #my art #halloween #monsters #monster au #sunnyween zine

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crookedfandomquill · 7 months

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Alright, folks, I rewatched the Bo’re Life arc this week, and I have thoughts and a newfound appreciation for it (what? Me? Liking the Bo’re arc?It’s more likely than you’d think). As my mom used to say at the start of road trips or our semi-annual family viewing of The Sound of Music: buckle up, chitlins.

Okay, first off: this arc is a lot easier and more interesting to watch the second time around. I suspect that’s because I’m not chomping at the bit to just get back to Tantai Jin and Susu in the real world, since I already know what happens. This time, I can settle in and appreciate Bo’re Life without the urgency of “when is the actual story going to come back, fuck you writers”. It’s also very fun for me to draw parallels and find foreshadowing I didn’t notice before. And, having done so, I present the following thesis: the Bo’re Life arc strengthened the overall story both as a tragedy, and as a “happy” ending.

Addendum: I have a lot of thoughts about what constitutes a happy ending, and my thoughts on TTEOTM in this regard are complicated. Essentially, I would argue that the ending, while certainly sad, isn’t a “tragedy” in the narrative sense. While the individual happiness of the characters takes a real blow in the end, they do accomplish their ultimate goal. It’s a pyrrhic victory, but a victory nonetheless, and it’s implied that they will get a much happier ending as individuals sometime in the future. That doesn’t mean it was as satisfying as it could have been (it seems clear that TTJ will come back but I'm pissed we didn't get to see it), and I know a lot of viewers will totally disagree with my opinion. But I digress! Let’s get into Bo’re Life.

Bo’re Life threw a LOT of information at both protagonists, and the roles they played in it didn’t correspond neatly with their own destinies, which kind of baffled me the first time around. Ming Ye represented both what Tantai Jin could aspire to be, and the mistakes Susu needed to avoid in neutralizing him. Sang Jiu represented both Susu’s traumas and doomed loveline, and Tantai Jin’s fate if Susu failed as Ming Ye had.

The parallels between Bo’re life and real life perfectly underline the tragedy of the story: both protagonists are shown beforehand the choices they must not make, but because of who they are, they make them anyway.

Susu was an idealistic and traumatized woman with a mission, so she was always going to fail like Ming Ye did by putting the greater good ahead of love and communication. Tantai Jin was a disempowered and naive man falling in love for the first time, so he was always going to be just like Sang Jiu and give his fragile heart too fully, then shatter under the weight of betrayal. Bo’re Life both foretold the tragedy, and failed to prevent it.

It could be argued that Tantai Jin and Susu played the wrong roles in Bo’re Life to avoid tragedy in the Jing arc, but they played the right roles to avoid it in the cultivator arc. In the mortal world, Susu needed Ming Ye’s experience of losing everything because he neglected his heart. And Tantai Jin needed Sang Jiu’s experience of subsuming herself in another person so recklessly that she lost her soul to it. Neither of them got that, and so they repeated the tragedy of 10,000 years ago: Susu by loving and then betraying Tantai Jin, and Tantai Jin by allowing his obsessive love to run unchecked.

But as cultivators, 500 years later, they both ended up relying on the virtues of the roles they played in Bo’re Life. Susu channeled Sang Jiu’s optimistic love and staunch loyalty to repair her relationship with Tantai Jin and become someone he could genuinely rely on. And Tantai Jin needed Ming Ye’s sacrificial love and dedication to the greater good to understand and execute his subversion of destiny.

This time around, they were both where they needed to be, playing the roles fate assigned them… but drastically changing the lines. Susu became a goddess, just like her mother, the only being who could defeat the Devil Lord. And Tantai Jin became the Devil Lord, just as he was born to do. But there was no battle between them, no great war like 10,000 years ago. Just like during their dance at the Jing water festival, Tantai Jin played his part, then surrendered.

And, just as she removed his mask 500 years ago, Susu saw through his act to who he really was, who he’d always been.

They redeemed the very mistakes they made at the end of their story in Jing: Susu, who couldn’t trust him and destroyed him as a result, finally gave him her trust, even as he wore the image of her greatest fears. And Tantai Jin, who was so desperate for her love that he killed her trying to keep her, finally let her go to save the world.

The Jing arc ended with both of them as the worst versions of themselves: Susu vengeful and traumatized, Tantai Jin obsessive and broken. As she died, Susu threw Tantai Jin’s destiny in his face, calling him the greatest curse and rejecting him in this life and the next. In his last days in Jing, Tantai Jin devolved into despair and denial, unable to cope with the grief and betrayal. They didn't learn the correct lessons in Bo're life, not this time around.

By contrast, the cultivator arc ended with both of them as the best versions of themselves: Susu capable of trust and forgiveness and elevated to godhood, Tantai Jin whole and loved and able to overturn his evil destiny. They learned, not just from their own mistakes, but from those of Ming Ye and Sang Jiu. And it helped them win.

#till the end of the moon #tteom #tantai jin #ye xiwu #cdrama #luo yunxi #bai lu

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maryrouille · 6 days

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It's Amy Winehouse, but with female rage. About Back to Black (dir. Sam Taylor-Johnson) 2024

Recently, a film telling the life story of the British singer Amy Winehouse was released. I came here to talk a little about the aesthetics of this film, which, by the way, cannot be accused of poor music (Marisa Abela sings Amy's songs in her own voice and she does it brilliantly!) or ugly shots.

In the film we see the transformation from a rebellious teenager with a guitar into an emotionally and behaviorally unstable woman (without a guitar). Of course, this turn of events could have been reflected in Amy's real life, but one gets the impression that the film is set in a different time. It feels like the 2000s have been filtered, sugar-coated, and embedded somewhere in the 2024 aesthetic of angry girlbloggers on Tumblr.

Romanticizing drinking alcohol and mental instability

You probably know the tendencies related to #just girly things and the explanation of all depressive states and tantrums by just being a girl. It is a kind of expression of the life and consciousness of today's young girls living in the rather unoptimistic times of social media and consumerism. But is this aesthetic good for Amy's story? It seems to me that romanticizing alcohol, drugs and blind love leading to complete self-loss and ultimately death is a poor approach.

And while watching the film you definitely feel that something is wrong, but at the same time you fall into this beautified world. Amy's life was darker and more brutal, and her problems were not only limited to matters of the heart, glass and flashbulbs of cameras. Unfortunately, living with addictions is dirty and disgusting. And you can't put a bow on it. But it seems to be a sign of our times.

You Know I'm No Good (song)

Adding the ending to this song title: but I'm not going to rehab. And here we should ask the question about the level of public awareness in 2008 (the year when Amy received five Grammy Awards) and today. In 2024, acceptance and knowledge about all behavioral therapies, addiction treatment and toxic relationships is much greater. And Back to Black, under the guise of nice outfits, make-up and a few minor falls, gives the impression of being up-to-date.

Will someone watch this movie and say they want to live like Amy (just like it was with Coppola's Priscilla)? This is quite possible, because in the end we get the image of a slightly rebellious femme fatale and a slightly weak girl who is harmed by others. And many of us would fit this description.

Live fast, die young, be wild and have fun (song)

Finally, I have to quote Lana del Rey, because today's girl blogging draws from her in handfuls. Is joining the 27 Club really that romantic? The departure of such young people from the world is primarily a tragedy, which later becomes a beautiful myth. That's why it's worth mentioning Lana's example here. She uses aesthetics very well and, above all, separates moving around motifs and drawing visual inspiration from them from real life.

To sum up, movie Back to Black is really worth seeing. However, it is also worth being aware that this is a colorful fiction for 2024 built around the true story of Amy Winehouse.

Edit 24/04/24: I have to mention the update here. I just came across an article from British Vogue that confirms my thesis about drawing inspiration from image of Amy (also Kate Moss, so heroin chic is back in fashion?) Quoting a fragment of the article:

The legacy of Winehouse also lives on in Back to Black, due for release on 12 April. (...) While we’re in no way condoning or glorifying the hobbies of Winehouse and her erstwhile friend Doherty, there was a scene during that time and a smudgy, smeary aesthetic that somehow worked.

#amy winehouse #back to black #back to black 2024 #marisa abela #sam taylor johnson #back to black movie #female hysteria #girl interrupted #female rage #just girly things #club 27 #girlblogging #girlblogger #coquette aesthetic #films #movies #lana del rey aesthetic #lizzy grant

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unfunnyaceartist · 16 days

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Au be upon ye. I NEED A NAME GUYS HDWUBFIHOIW

Again, i feel the need to say: I am not a professional by any means and just wanted to make an interesting au that could be fun.(im diagnosed with ADHD anxiety and depression, im 98% sure I have Bipolar disorder, and im 90% sure i have OCD, so Id be basing it off of what I know plus personal experiences) Please inform me of any misinformation I may have spread, as this was not even remotely intended to come off as offensive.

ANYWAY I SHOULD EXPLAIN THE DESIGNS

I think Gangle is self explanatory. Tragedy and Comedy? Bipolar?

Zooble is based on what kinda made me think I had it. Everything needs to be a specific way. I wanted it to be ironic as they have a protractor and pencil and eraser to fix things to their liking, but then their design itself is a bit chaotic.

Kinger already gave adhd energy originally so i kinda just bade the boy unable to sit still LOL if anyone has ideas let me know

Ragatha, I wanted to dress her in something physically and mentally comfortable tbh

NOW I DIDNT CHANGE MUCH OF POMNI AND LET ME TELL YOU WHY! 1. Pomnis design draw attention EASILY with its colors, which makes her feel like everyones looking at her. 2. Shes a jester, so it feels to her like everyone is laughing at and judging her. 3 i wanted to incorporate ways for her to self sooth. Grabbing her hat, flicking her bells, rubbing the soft fabric, squeezing the chest and torso puffs, etc.

Jax? Well I just wanted to make him look comfy and confident. He WANTS eyes on him, unlike Pomni, and he goes out of his way to make others pay attention to him.

but uh yeah. thoughts?

#rdufyitugbuyfgyi you wouldnt cancel me right?#GANGLE IS BIPOLAR LOL MY BAD YALL

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chickenleafs-world · 6 months

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Been on that Htachetfield tism high, and let me tell you, I’m in crisis.

Do I prefer if the Lords in Black + Webby are amoral beings, which we draw lines of “good” and “evil” around arbitrarily? They are being following their basil instincts and desires. Their conflicts with each other are based on things we can’t even understand, no necessarily on Webby being good and the others bad. She herself isn’t even doing this out of any different motivations than her siblings, but mortals project that moral good onto her. The tragedy of their sibling split is that it was a conflict of the Black and White, not of morals or defending humanity. They are beings of pure desire, they take the forms of both insurmountable beasts and intangible concepts, and we cannot reason with them not judge them, only protect ourselves from them.

On the other hand, there’s also such juicy drama to be had from siblings torn apart by genuine philosophical differences. To the Lords in Black, humans are as good as ants, maybe cows at best. Webby sees them as something closer to a dog or a cat. The Lords in Black see their apocalypses as moral through their own twisted logic. Mirroring the corporations the Lords are often used to critique, they all believe the “lesser” natural world must be subjugated to create something actually good. From their perspective of all of our space time, they believe themselves to be the morals in eternity. Webby’s conflict is seeing that the big picture is made of small pictures, so even if Pokey sees One Voice as saving humanity or Wiggly sees destruction and rebirth as essential to the little experiment of Earth, Webby, a small and simple spider that exists everywhere and no where in the world, sees the tiny moments and people who also matter. The Lords in Black are knowingly and bombastically and proudly evil to humans, in that fun sort of way.

Either way, the most important thing to me is that the LiB have an interesting relationship with Webby and humanity. And it’s just personal preference to also want some sibling angst.

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