#who can't write an essay to save their life

[fayevalcntine]

Some people put way too much stock in iwtv writers handling everything pristinely well and idk, I think that's gonna blow up in their face sooner or later when season 1 alone proved that they are not trying to tiptoe around certain matters and would sooner be fine with causing a problem and then dismissively refer to it in an interview than even worry about it in the first place

#iwtv #like......aside from the fact that the majority of the writers' room is white #it also doesn't help that some writers/producers like Rolin and Hannah simply don't care for trivial matters #like being 'cancelled on twitter' #Hannah referred to the DV scene in ep5 as a 'fight' and Rolin dismissively waved his hand at the terrible Claudia rape storyline #these writers are already established in their own circles and field; they don't care for online validation from people #who can't write an essay to save their life #like I see so many fans laugh at the thought of 'oh they're gonna make Lestat look not so bad' #they don't even consider the optics of how the writers may make Louis look like if he knows about #Armand being responsible for Claudia's murder #and still living with him for decades? allowing him to butcher her diaries? #therefore again; letting Armand tear apart Claudia in a figurative way #like some of you guys may be all *sickos* yes yes about it #but idk if the general audience; who already doesn't take some of Louis' deliberate misdirections seriously #will just accept and move on #especially when Louis himself apparently tries to make him and Claudia look like sympathetic people in his story #how exactly is that gonna come off to Daniel/the audience if he's not only knowingly lived with his daughter's actual #murderer for decades #but has also allowed him to tear apart the only last remaining evidence of her for the sake of not dealing with his own mistakes #and take it from someone who saw fans go INSANE after a certain tv characters' death #to the point where it made headline news #networks don't care for outrage in some moral manner #that show ended up getting 4 more seasons; so

[emmavakarian-theirin]

ISOLDE.

#oh the essay i could write on how much i DESPISE her #alistair started talking about her and all the hatred i had for her came back in force #and now i'm face to face with her and i'm starting to think it's morally and logically correct to sacrifice her #first for being a child neglecter and second for enabling all the chaos and death and destruction to redcliffe #all so she wouldn't disappoint her fereldan daddy who is ALSO a child neglecter but she's worse and i can't kill him tragically #but even fucking. about to enter the castle after saving the village after SEVERAL NIGHTS OF DEATH BECAUSE OF THIS #and she scoffs at alistairs mere presence?? bitch he was 8 when you saw him last and sent him away! EIGHT!! #fuck you and the noble you rode on #dragon age origins #and as for logically correct: if you leave the village at all before battle everyone (except teagan) is killed. EVERYONE. and that's 1 night #after several days of attacks! no one else is left!! but the demon is still alive in the castle and anything can happen #and it takes 1-2 days to get to the circle to get the mages. leaving for up to 4 days to get more help to *possibly* stop more deaths? #and it's clear arl eamons life takes priority over all else.... #so yeah time to kill a bitch i guess 💅

[thats-godscomma]

Since rewatching Psych, I've been thinking about how weird and arbitrary Shawn's interests are. Sure, late 2000's writing had something to do with it, and maybe a bit of Henry and Gus's influence, but hearing Shawn be so vocal about how he hates certain popular things or (more importantly) refuses to give them a chance BUT at the same time knowing so many pop culture references, it got me thinking.

What if the reason Shawn has so many pop culture references on hand is because of his eidetic memory, and he doesn't actually have as much of an interest in pop culture? Throughout the show, he actively avoids getting roped into big interests and franchises (see: comic books, soap operas, etc.) despite the fact that he genuinely seems excited once he's part of it. In fact, we don't get to see a lot of Shawn's interests at all unless it's based on an idea.

Take being a bounty hunter, for example. According to him, he's obsessed with the idea, but he doesn't make many references to an actual bounty hunter show or franchise. Instead, he just remembers the one bounty hunter he saw as a child and maybe references a movie or two. Because once he remembers something, he's never going to forget it, or at least not for a very long time.

That's why he thinks in references. Everything is a reference if you have a good enough memory. Everything reminds you of something. If Shawn hears someone make a Spock reference, it's in his repertoire forever. But he wouldn't be caught dead watching the shows or movies because that's just too much information. Why on earth would he endure that?

Of course, it also intertwines with his ADHD. He has bouts of energy and trouble focusing. He can't sit still to save his life, and he hyperfixates...or he would if his memory didn't make him averse to it. So if he doesn't want to hyperfixate on an information-based interest, then what does he hyperfixate on? Physical activities. Instead of learning about his favorite daredevil, he tries to be one himself. When he learns about oil rigs, he doesn't get a book from the library. He tries to find oil in his backyard.

This is also where he and Henry differ regarding Shawn's "potential." Henry is correct when he talks about Shawn's "wasted" potential, but he doesn't understand the toil of having this eidetic memory and ADHD. Here's what I think happened: Henry probably noticed Shawn's stellar memory at a young age, realized he has a gift, spoke with his wife about her eidetic memory, learned that you need to challenge your child's eidetic memory at a young age or it'll go away, started the hat game to make it fun and exciting, but then Shawn's ADHD appeared. Suddenly, it made him much harder to raise (because let's be real, Shawn was not an easy child.) Henry didn't know what he was doing anymore, and since it was the 80's, he didn't have the resources to properly understand his kid's behavior, so he tried to find a common interest, and started training Shawn to be a detective "because kids love cop shows." But Shawn struggled to stay attached to one single interest, and when he grew up, he stopped trying to articulate his problems because his mom (the only person who remotely understood his struggles) left, and he blamed his dad for it.

And academics? Those are a joke because what is the point of studying if he already remembers everything? Until, of course, he needs to apply it to a problem-solving test or writing an essay. Suddenly, he's memorizing a math teacher's answer sheet and copying Gus's report.

Yes, Shawn could have been a great cop. He could be an amazing scientist or anything really. He could have been a national spelling bee champion like Gus wanted to be. Even 15 years later, Shawn remembered exactly what word Gus messed up, how to spell the word, and what letter he made Gus slip up, but he didn't want to be on that stage with Gus because that requires so much learning. And so much time. And so much memorizing. And he refuses to sit still for that long when he knows that overloading his head is going to give him migraines.

Also his "I've heard it both ways" probably comes from the fact that people with eidetic memory can still make lots of mistakes if they don't actively commit something to memory. If Shawn only overhears something, he'll still naturally try to fill in the gaps like everyone else, but because he's so confident in his memory, he just believes what he remembers to be true, leading him to repeat incorrect information with confidence. That could also be why some of his references are incorrect due to mixed-up homophones.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about how Shawn is just a walking movie reference because his memory won't let him forget quotes, but then I fell into a rabbit hole of the negative effects of having an eidetic memory as a child, and I am very passionate about how Henry actually tried his best, and people need to stop calling him a horrible parent. Love y'all. Let me know what you think.

#i just care a lot about the real-life consequences of having an eidetic memory combined with ADHD #psych #psych tv #psych usa #shawn spencer #henry spencer #burton guster #eidetic memory #long post

[kelocitta]

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

#rain world #rw shipping #tagging that just cause this is explicitly about that even though I usually dont do shipping stuff #with that said i dont even think this particular interpretation of a possible dynamic needs to be romantic its just kinda #about companionship in general. companionship thats going to absolutely shred an already unstable slug emotionally but thats #the point. friendship and love in spite of the unavoidable ending #just noticed this is like 80% theme analysis and 20% 'these go together just trust me' #but also theyre both girls because i want them to and also because im channeling hornet from hollow knight #who made me so deeply ill that my rain world tags still havent outcompeted my Hk tags because i drew her so much. so so much. #hunter is hornet coded to me and artificer is like if angela and gebura from lc combined into a deeply fucked up ferret #also i did tag the poll because they kinda inspired this but also. i wasnt gonna put all this out here WITHOUT a readmore thats embarassing #but i guess this is propaganda for a ship already seen as popular but like... idk i think theres something to it even as someone #who did literally slap them together originally because they were both red slugcats i considered girls. predownpour so we didnt have anythi #anyway hi tag readers i have so much work to do im being bad by writing about gay slugs. i need to get myself together #its so late this might just be nonsense bwaaaaaaa

[arista-stl]

The reasons why I think Stella and Bloom's friendship is amazing and is not something we often see

Or why Fate is trash

One aspect of Winx club I always loved growing up was the friendship between the girls. They all love each other, despite their very different personnalities and having some rough times.

While I could write an essay about almost every duo in Winx club, I do think that Stella and Bloom are the most interesting to analyze.

Even though they are part of a friend group, the show doesn't try to hide the fact that Stella and Bloom are each other best friend, they even say so themselves.

This friendship is truly groundbreaking when we think about it, for one simple reason: Bloom and Stella's archetypes usually hates each other when depicted together in media.

Hear me out.

Stella is the girly girl, the mean girl, the popular girl with a big mouth who can appear shallow. Plus, she's blond. She bases a big portion of her self-worth in her apperance. Basically, she's the Regina George of Winx Club.

Bloom, she's not like the other girls. There's nothing wrong with her, she's attractive and a sweetheart, yet she attracts attention for being different (in the show there are a few reasons for this, first she's from Earth and she's also the keeper of the Dragon Flame, making her a god-like existence in the story). She has messy hair, dresses in jeans, doesn't really care about her apperance... She's a fish out of water type of character, the character everyone can and wants to relate to. She's the Cady of Winx Club.

These two were designed to hate each other.

Taking into account Stella's nature, we expect her to hate Bloom out of sheer jealousy. Bloom doesn't try and gets all the attention, she's the new girl who turns out to be the one girl more powerful than her, she's also a princess. We could say that everything Stella can do, Bloom can do better.

And yet...

Stella would kill a bitch for Bloom. Never in the show does she display any sort of ill feelings toward Bloom, on the contrary, she spends her time trying to get her to be more confident in herself and her abilities. She's sweet with her and does her best to uplift her. I can say with confidence that Stella is the one person in the show who loves Bloom the most (tied with Daphne), like Sky doesn't hold A CANDLE to her.

When Bloom leaves on missions by herself she's worried sick, she's always clinging to her, teasing her, looking out for her. She's always the one there for Bloom when things get hard (when the Trix steal her powers, when Sky gets engaged to Diaspro, when she thinks of her family...)

And Bloom, she just loves Stella. She's the reason her dream became reality (it was her meeting with her which caused her to learn her true nature), and Stella took her under her wing to make it easier for her to fit into this new world. She saw from the beggining that Stella was willing to lie for her, to fight for her and she couldn't help but love her, even if she had a big mouth and quite the personnality. Stella brought lightness and laughter into her world, she was her anchor.

For real, just look at her reaction when Stella throws herself from the cliff in season two. She spends the episodes after that obsessing over finding and saving Stella.

These two can't live without each other even though one is the 'your typical mean girl' and the other is 'not like the other girls'.

Heck, everytime the villains freaking spy on the Winx these two are all over each other.

I think the heart of their friendship is their first meeting. Stella was what Bloom had dreamed of all her life: she was a real fairy, the living personnification of her dreams. She's the one who made her dream a reality. As for Stella, she was saved by a human who risked her life and stood up for her even though she didn't stand any chance and didn't know her. Bloom was just lucky she turned out to be a fairy. Bloom then took her to her house and took care of her, without expecting anything in return, which caused them to bond instantly.

That relationship was freaking transgressive for the time, and Fate's writers deserve jail for what they did to their friendship. Bloom and Stella fighting over a boy and Stella turning into the typical insecure and jealous mean girl? Hell no.

Look at these queens 🥹

#never even watched Fate but I know enough to know it's crap #winx club #Winx #bloom #stella #friendship #fairy #magic #fate the winx saga #love

[visionofhope04]

Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?

How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!

---

It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.

Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.

It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.

You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.

"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.

Then everything faded to black.

---

"Hello?!"

A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.

"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.

"Ah!"

"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.

"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.

“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"

"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.

"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."

"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"

"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."

He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.

"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.

"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.

"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"

"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."

"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"

"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.

"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."

---

They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.

Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."

"You can remember that but not your name?"

"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."

"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."

"Thank you."

---

They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.

Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.

"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.

"Yes darling, when is it not?"

"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."

He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.

"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.

He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.

---

8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.

---

Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.

Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?

As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.

Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you

"How do you know my wife?"

"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.

"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.

All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.

"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.

"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.

The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?

"We're your family."

The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."

This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.

"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"

"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"

"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?

---

Words: 1,847

#batfamily #batfam #batfam x reader #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #avengers x platonic reader #colossus #colossus x reader #tim drake #damian wayne #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader

[bonefall]

while i do agree with the sentiment that bloodclan should be more nuanced as an entity i still believe it is wrong to portray them as the necessary "response" to clan injustice (haven't read the books in years but i am pretty sure that bloodclan started with no connection to the clans) / an opposition to the clan's flaws. some of the thing scourge did was out of selfishness and bloodclan isn't the other colour of the black and white debacle with the clans. the clans are heavily flawed yes, but it isn't realistic to completely say that their structure had no redeeming qualities altogether and that all outsider groups is fundamentally better than the clans.

all clans and groups are flawed in their own way and i believe we shouldnt brush past the things that other groups (the sisters and what they do with their toms *cough cough*) did solely to be able to degrade the clans and their culture.

Buddy, you're setting up a strawman. I promise you that if you look into the reduxes I've made of BloodClan, Guardians, The Sisters, and the Tribe, you will see that I don't make any of them a "flawless" alternative to Clan life.

Nor do I say that the Clans have no redeeming qualities. In fact, you can browse the "Clan Culture" tag to see the various expansions I've made to show how these traditions, values, and technological advances make Clan life so alluring.

The overarching theme of BB is that the nature of culture is change. For better AND for worse.

With respect, I think there's something insidious in the wording of "the things the other groups did." We're talking about fan responses to a work that consistently demonizes and degrades foreigners to make the Clans look like the "best way to live," justifying xenophobia. These are not real groups, they are writing choices.

In the franchise with some pretty extreme examples of misogyny, the authors said "What if bizarro world where women rule and have no men... woag..." and only includes a single Clan-alligned member of this culture, with a BAD opinion of them, who can't even do his diplomatic job because he HATES them so much.

In the same franchise that shows Fireheart getting bullied, facing prejudice, and fighting a murderous tyrant who publically executes a mixed-race character, their endgame villain is an outsider, like him, but this one IS a godless heathen who HATES love and friendship and banned families.

In the VERY same franchise which made its first non-malicious group barely able to get through an arc without needing to be saved by Clan cats, totally unable to defend themselves, framed as "whiny" for not wanting their clearly 'inferior' culture to be forcefully changed.

And I'm re-stating all this because, again, no offense to you in particular Anon, but I've been seeing a few people with a sentiment like yours lately. Complaints into a vacuum that don't make targeted critique of anyone's fanworks, gesturing at this broad "woobification" which is apparently out there somewhere over the rainbow, saying things like "well Scourge is selfish" or "well Moonlight abandoned her 13 year old" as if we haven't BEEN knew.

As if we're not all directly responding to these choices. As if I haven't written ESSAYS on this topic.

Since this was about BloodClan in particular though, and you admit you haven't read the books in years, please go back and actually read Rise of Scourge before trying to make critique of the ways fanon rewrites its origin. It's EXPLICITLY a response to the Clans, in the text, that the Erins wrote, it is canon that fanon is working with.

And you want people to take that out and approach it a different way... why? Because it's so incredulous to you that a nation forms in response to a threatening neighbor? That a common enemy through invasions is a way that people might choose to unite, and encourage their new culture to value brutality? Because you don't like the idea of Clan Culture's XENOPHOBIC BATTLE CULTURE affecting surrounding communities??

Could YOU, maybe, be doing this "woobification" thing I keep hearing about? Can I play this stupid game too? What's our stupid prize? Can it be a lollipop? Do we get stickers

TL;DR, ok.

#bone babble #Warrior cats analysis #Warrior cats fanon #Bloodclan #''Ok yes scourge is practically cold war era xenophobic stereotypes and i understand that is a part of canon you dont like.'' #''But have you considered. Hes mean'' #Yes. Yes i have considered it. #If I get another take like this in my inbox im gojng to fucjing add a scene where he kisses babies and looks at the screen and says #'Mmm wowow thank u for the babygirl juice fire star :)' #JUST to annoy them #People gonna be funny to me? Im about to be Hilarious. #Also ANON just to be clear im annoyed because like. Ive been seeing this around. #Sadly today you are the Genocide Frisk to my Angry Sans u.u #I am taking ur ask and turning it blue and smashing it against walls #Man it would be cool to have bone themed powers... i am a bone guy... #But anon you're fine. Just like. Think about what I said ok?

[mikami]

You seem like you know a lot about DN so I want to ask: what do you think is the deal with Yotsuba Light? I read the manga two times and it always seemed to me like Ohba suddenly started writing a different character in this ark compared to what we seen in beginning

My friend wrote a really long essay about it that I recommend if you're the type who likes reading really long character essays - but if you don't want to go through 25k words, I cannot blame you, so here's the cliffnotes version of what's happening:

Light isn't just returning to who he was in the beginning.

Light doesn't just wake up and nothing has happened - the past months very much did occur and he does remember them. His memories have just been edited so that he cannot remember being Kira. This means that this Light is under the assumption that he's been investigated for murders he didn't commit and then turned himself in over them in what he can't rationalize as anything but a temporary lapse of judgement caused by the pressure getting to him.

And now he's here. In confinement. Innocent (as far as he's aware).

At the start of Death Note, normal boy Light Yagami has his life uprooted by becoming a murderer.

At the start of the Yotsuba Arc, self-believed normal boy Light Yagami has his life uprooted by being falsely accused of murder.

In both cases, the perfect life that Light has been living up until now is completely turned on its head. Light is imprisoned, indefinitely. If he ever gets out (and that is an if to him at this point), he'll be behind in college. His mother and sister think he eloped with a girl he doesn't even like and started ghosting them over it.

His career plans and social life are both in shambles, and the very real threat of being under L's watch for life (or worse, executed) is hanging over his head.

Just like Kira!Light, this is a Light who has everything to lose.

And thus, he does his absolute best to be on best behavior. Every bit of virtuousness is on full display both for the benefit of L, who needs to declare him innocent, and his father, who is his big idol and whom he's properly working with for the first time ever.

Light's boredom and jadedness from pre-canon don't come through because he really really is not bored while he's scrambling to save his own life from a crime he does not think he committed. He's stressed, and he has a lot to prove.

Light at the beginning of the story thinks his life is guaranteed to go as planned, and he'll have a predictable existence forever. Yotsuba!Light has learned the hard way that this is not true - forces beyond his control can completely destroy everything he believed to be true and even lead his father to hold a gun to his head. He's got a sense of direction in a way pre-canon Light never had, even if he obtained it by way of traumatic experiences.

#answers #death note #light yagami

[wonwoosthetic]

Finding something to fight for update coming back anytime soon…? Love this story 💜

a/n: i looooove writing for this series so so so much, thank you for enjoying it so far!! Here I have part 2 of how the reader and Joel met! Yes, there’s not much romance going on (just yet! the next part will be about their first few dates) but a lot have asked for a part 2 and since Joel is a single father who was left by his wife, I can imagine love for a random woman wouldn’t come easy to him ˙ᵕ˙ I still hope you and everyone reading this will enjoy and stay tuned for future chapters! Thank you for reading and thank you for sticking around to see more of their story unfold!🫶🏼

Btw: I changed the name of the series, I hope people won’t be too confused! <3

You’re Lonely. I Can Fix That. Pt. 2

pairing – Joel Miller x female!reader; Tommy Miller x female!reader (platonic!)

word count – 16.2k (don’t even get me started, this is starting to feel like a slow-burn😭)

warnings – fighting, tiniest bit of cursing, bad writing of southern accents (somebody pls teach me)

synopsis – part 2 of this request; slowly but we’re getting there ˙ᵕ˙ the reader and Joel are getting closer🤭

series masterlist

1999

You did, in fact, not find a way to contact him. At least none that wouldn't require you to jump over your shadow and contact Tommy Miller first.

Every afternoon you had to spend in your parents' restaurant mostly consisted of you standing by the counter, and your head shooting up at the sound of the door opening. None of those times had it been either one of the Miller brothers - but each time you had hoped it would be. Praying and pleading that the universe had some last specks of luck left for you. But it seemed like destiny was not on your side at that time. Or maybe it was. How could you possibly know if he was as good as he pretended to be? Maybe the kindness Joel had shown you was just his way of holding up a normal conversation with no ulterior motives after all. Asking you about your future plans and dreams, telling you about his daughter, and driving you home seemed to be just the naturally kind gestures of a Southern gentleman... Or maybe it was just an act and in reality, whoever was up there was saving you from a big mistake before it could even happen. 

'I think that if he was a real gentleman and if the looks he gave you were real, he'll find a way to contact you.'

Maria's words were once again haunting you. Even with your hopes already slowly vanishing in ever seeing the oldest Miller again. He was a gentleman, no doubt. He had to be... right? There was almost no possible way he had put on a mask before entering that bar. But...

You shook your head. Your best friend might be a good people reader, but she's also well-known for her delusions. It was fun and made life much more exciting, that you had to agree with. Having a campus crush and calling him 'your man' when all he did was thank you and call the essay you wrote a 'great piece of work', was how you kept life interesting. It was easy entertainment. Normally, it was all fun and games, something you could tease each other with, but this was different. Because with Joel, you noticed it too. You may not have noticed the 'looks he gave you', but what man would just 'like to make sure you got home safe'? Or maybe you were potentially just looking too much into it. Maybe Maria had already infected you with her delusions.

'It's a small town, it can't be that hard.'

Well... it seemed to be very hard because it had already been close to a month. And neither of you had found a way or were interested enough to look for one. At some point, you had to get the fantasy of Joel Miller you had made up in your mind out of your head. There was no way a man could possibly occupy such a big part of your brain and control how you'd act at work.

There was only one man in the past who had the same kind of grip on you as Joel Miller now had. And that guy broke your heart when he admitted to cheating on you and getting Chlamydia from the college girl he fucked. Fun times...

Other than that, the topic of boyfriends hadn't ever been more than just plain and simple entertainment for you. You didn't use them. And you never would, because, after all, you were a lover girl at heart. But they just didn't make you nervous. Usually.

You could vividly recall each and every time you managed to make a man bring you to his house and let you spend the night, just as much as the number of times you barked at them to leave you alone in a club. Yes, they were big and scary men, but you were a woman raised by an older sister who inherited the generational trauma from your mother and anger issues from your father. If you didn't want them near you, you wouldn't let them.

Crushes came and went, and the ones that stayed, you were usually able to turn into something as serious as a few fun nights or even take it a little further and turn them into the two relationships you have had in the past. But that was it. 'Chlamydia boy', as Maria had baptized him, was the last one you had let occupy your mind as much as he did. 

That was until Joel goddamn Miller, in his 6ft, wide shoulders, itty bitty waist, rough hands, curly hair, shaggy beard, and grungy voice glory, just had to walk into that bar. Now you were daydreaming about a 30-year-old construction worker and single father all while he was probably just enjoying the evenings off-duty he got to spend with his daughter, looking forward to the next parent-teacher conference where the other mothers would be gawking at him and drooling while following him around like lost puppies.

That's how you found yourself. A birthday and a whole month later, in your family's restaurant just like almost every afternoon. You had finished another small exam and were finally able to enjoy the first rays of sunshine that were peeking through the clouds during the colder winter months on the way to work. But even the big windows couldn't even to some extent let you feel the freedom and fresh air from the outside. Sometimes you wondered if you should at some point regret coming back to Texas to help your family. 

Back then, you had been ecstatic about the mere thought of moving away, seeing more than what that small town you grew up in had to offer. That's why you decided to study out of state. You started building your life out there. A new life. But one call from your mother, asking you to come back was all it took. You couldn't tell her simply 'no'. Not when she was explaining that your father, due to his age, was advised not to work normal shifts on his legs anymore as they were slowly giving up on him. So, you listened to her. You packed your bags and came back. You found a place of your own and a roommate to share it with. You were accepted into the college you so desperately tried to avoid during the application process back in high school and continued your studies only 30 minutes away from the house you grew up in and the garden you used to play in.

You weren't allowed to regret your decision. Not if it meant helping your parents keep the restaurant alive they had worked their entire life for.

"Where's my daughter?" The frantic voice of your mother made you sigh out loud as you made sure to fix the name tag on the right side of your shirt. "Is she here already?" Her quick footsteps echoed through the kitchen until they stopped in the doorway of the small staffroom.

"I'm here, Mom," you answered her with the slightest hint of annoyance. The simple sound of her stressed-out sound and heavy breathing could get your blood pumping in an instant. She has always been a stressed person - making situations much more hectic than needed.

A heavy huff fell from her lips. "Y'are late," she simply stated.

With a roll of your eyes, you passed her, putting your hair up in a ponytail just like you usually would. "I'm not late, I had an exam. I told you that."

"I guess, I forgot... 'bout that...," she thought out loud. "Anyways," she was quick to change the subject, hot on your tracks, following you up to the counter overlooking the somewhat empty tables. You only could sigh again. "I'll have to leave earlier today. I need to go to the pharmacy before it closes. The doctor gave ya dad a new prescription," she explained. Another new one... was there ever going to not be another medication this man would be put on? The medical bills were already piling up - you remembered the stack of letters addressed to your father you had seen just the day before when you came over for the usual Sunday family dinner.

"Y'are okay with closing? Jimmy might stay with ya if I ask him." Jimmy, the head chef of the kitchen behind you and a long-family friend. He was in his fifties and had a wife and three kids waiting at home for him each night.

You shook your head, "No, it's fine. I... I think I can clean up by myself, but thanks," sending her a tight smile that got a big grin out of her.

"Great!" She grabbed your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "I'll leave in a bit, alrigh'?" You nodded as an answer, your eyes already on the notes for the day your mother had put on the counter, out of eyesight from customers. And with that, you got to work.

Mondays weren't all that busy, usually. The construction workers from around the area would come in and order their usual big servings that had been keeping the family business going. Some teenagers spent their lunch break by the tables, working on their homework and having a quick meal. Just like every other day.

With a sigh, you pushed through the swinging door, separating the kitchen from the counter area of the restaurant. Three plates filled with the extra portions some of the construction workers asked for balances on your hands and left arm. In moments like this, you were thankful for the low number of customers. You rushed over to bring them their food in a respectful time, getting a round of charming 'thank you's in return, to which you nodded politely.

Just as you were about to get back behind the counter, hoping to find the next thing to focus on until new customers would come in, your eyes found a familiar face, sitting in a booth all by themselves. You smiled to yourself, watching the little kid's head buried in the book in front of them as they frantically continued to write something down with their right hand. 

It was the Parker's son, Miles. A young, very bright boy, who was way too mature for his age of only 10. The first time you had seen him in your parent's restaurant, you thought somebody had forgotten him. But no, he just enjoyed the background noises of the diner in the background while doing his schoolwork. He usually showed up a few times a week, would take a seat quietly and not ask for anything unless a waiter or waitress came over to him first. 

As you began working part-time, you took on the responsibility of being that exact person. You'd approach him and ask him for his order, adding a free hot chocolate or lemonade to whatever he desired - you paid for it out of your own pocket by the end of the day.

"Well hello, young man," you walked up to the boy with a soft smile on your face. The sound of your voice made him look up, pushing his glasses back up higher on the bridge of his nose.

"Hi, Y/N," he grinned at you shyly. It was only then you realised how much you had missed his rosy cheeks.

"I haven't seen you in so long. I got worried already," you admitted. It was the truth. You hadn't seen him in a good three weeks, which was very much out of the ordinary. In a small town, you would've expected to hear rumours and chatter about every family, but the Parkers seemed like a mystery to most apparently.

Miles shrugged, his eyes back down to his book. "I'm okay."

The tone of his voice told you otherwise. He wasn't a very expressive kid, to begin with, so the change in his tone stood out.

"Are you sure?" You quietly sat down on the opposite side of the booth. You were in no position to interrogate him, and neither were you the best with children - at least that's what you thought. But you were a good advice giver and could read a room usually pretty well.

It took a few seconds of silence before he spoke up again. "Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce."

Oh.

The instability of his family was no secret - your mother had caught you up with everything going on behind their closed doors as she and Miles' grandmother were part of the Saturdays' flea market in town. And that woman had no filter when it came to the 'monster of a husband her daughter had married'.

"I see," you nodded gently. "And... you're okay with that?" It was a stupid question, yes, but how else were you supposed to not just let him sit in misery, the thoughts of his parent's divorce occupying way too much of this little kid's mind.

"I think so, yes." Miles looked at the side of the table, his pencil gliding over a crack in the wood, "Grammy said it's good. And Mommy has been crying less. So... I think I'm happy."

Your heart shattered just hearing his words. No child should ever have to go through something like that.

"Daddy said I'm not allowed to come here anymore." You glanced at him with a slight scrunch in your eyebrows. "But now I live with Mommy and Grammy, and they don't really care where I am after school, so I came back," he sent you an innocent bright smile. His bright face almost sent tears to your eyes.

"They do care where you are Miles," you tried to explain to him, not even knowing if it was the truth, but why should a child even dare to think that the authority figures in his life didn't 'care' about him. "They just... they probably know how happy you are whenever you're here. That's why they let you come over."

You noticed as he tried to avoid your eyes, glancing out the window as he spoke, "But I'm only happy when you're here too," he admitted.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you took a deep breath, about to give him an answer back, wanting to let him know how much brighter your day got whenever you got to see him, but he beat you to it.

"That's Sarah Miller," his finger was pressed up against the glass. "With her dad." Unfazed, he turned his attention back to his notes. "His name's Joel."

"What?" You accidentally muttered out, your head snapping to the window. The black pick-up truck came right into view. The one he brought you home in. Your eyes followed his every move as he opened one of the back doors, helping his daughter out of the car. He held out a hand for her to take, but she ignored it and jumped with a big smile. A whole goddamn month it took for you to finally see his face again. 30 days, if not more. Just as you had been on the verge of forgetting about your encounter with the oldest Miller brother, he suddenly decided to show up. At your family's restaurant out of all places. 

Frozen in place, you couldn't help but stare, forgetting about the fact that a window worked both ways. You got lucky as he seemed to not have seen you, passing by and walking over to the front door while Sarah was skipping around the parking space in excitement. The pounding heart in your chest made you gulp.

"How do you know them?" You suddenly asked.

Miles continued to write in his notebook. "Sarah's in my class. She's nice."

"And-"

"I told her about this restaurant. Told her I like you and the food. And the free drink you always bring me," he sent you a quick grin, making you chuckle. The smile vanished quickly though as the sound of the bell above the entrance door rang through the room. To everyone else, it was just another customer coming in, but to you, it was the desperate crush on a 30-year-old man, who had no business occupying your mind as much as he did. There was no time to continue your daydream of finally seeing him again as he and his little one walked further into the restaurant, looking around to see which empty table they'd claim. Joel proposed the one in the corner right next to the door, which Sarah seemed to be okay with after taking another quick glance around the open space. They'd be waiting for someone to come and take their order. And that someone should be you. It had to be you. There was no other waiter on shift for this afternoon.

"I'll be right back," you quickly excused yourself, making Miles glimpse at you in slight confusion at your rushed tone, but the notebook in front of him was much more interesting anyway.

With a few deep breaths, you strutted across the floor, brushing over the apron covering the front of your thighs. You passed the register area to snatch the small notepad you used during your shift before finally making your way over to the duo.

Just before you were close enough to their table to stop, you heard the girl's faint voice mumble, "He said he'd be here." Her head turned upwards to grin at you as soon as you came to a halt, pen and paper in your grip.

"Hey, what can I get for you, guys?" You clicked the back of the bullet point pen.

Joel snapped his head up, his brown eyes staring at you as soon as your voice registered in his head. His lips parted, stopping for a second before he spoke up.

"O-Oh- hey," he sat up straighter.

"Hi," you smiled at him, slapping yourself internally at greeting him a second time when you literally just did that.

"Hey," he nodded, his lips curling up just a bit. "Y/N... right?"

While the name Joel Miller had branded itself onto your brain, he seemed to not even be sure about your first.

You nodded with a tight smile that was close to disappearing, but you had to keep a professional face on, "Yeah- yeah, Y/N," and pointed to yourself like an idiot. His eyes didn't leave your face, almost dragging you in, but you were quick to snap back, the sound of someone clearing the throat to your left catching you off-guard.

"Introduce me, Dad," Sarah tried to whisper, holding her hand to the wrong side of her mouth, where you could still clearly see her lips moving.

"Hm?" Joel's head turned towards her, "Oh- that's... that's Sarah. My daughter."

With a wide grin, the girl reached her hand out to you, which you gladly accepted, shaking it with a similar facial expression.

"Nice to meet you, Sarah."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Y/N." Once she dropped your hand again, her gaze quickly flicked over to her dad, who politely coughed into his elbow. "Do you know my, Dad?" She suddenly wondered.

"I- ehm...," you were quick to open your mouth before you could even come up with a full reply, wanting to kick yourself in the shin.

Thankfully, Joel decided to answer her, "She's a friend of Uncle Tommy."

Sarah gasped, her eyes widening, "You know Uncle Tommy too?" She gazed up at you in amazement, making you chuckle. Calling you a 'friend' was much easier than explaining your relationship with him to a 9-year-old, so you accepted it.

You nodded, "I do. I met him a long time ago." Not a lie.

"Cool," she said out loud, looking down at her intertwined fingers on top of the table. "What do you-"

"Babygirl, you wanted to eat, didn't you?"

The voice of her dad made her lift her head to grin at him, "Can I get pancakes?"

Joel put the menu he was holding down with a soft sigh, but a kind curl to his lips, "You can ask Y/N if you want to."

Quickly, she whipped her head towards you, "Can I have pancakes, please?"

You couldn't hold back a subtle chuckle. "Of course." The fact that pancakes were on your breakfast menu was unimportant. If the girl wanted pancakes, you'd get her her pancakes, even if it was close to 5pm. "And for you?" You turned to the man on your right.

"Can I get a simple turkey sandwich? And a black coffee?"

You nodded, writing down just quick abbreviations to remember their order. "Coffee's free here," you added.

"Oh, great," he commented, putting his hands down on the table, "That's all then."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Joel gave you a nod and a grin, his attention back to his little girl as soon as you turned around and heard her whisper.

"Why do you know so many people?" Making you chuckle.

In the kitchen, you handed over their orders to Jimmy, who glanced at you with a frown, re-reading your handwriting on the piece of paper.

"Pancakes? At 5?"

"Can you do that? It's for a little girl, she's really sweet."

With a wink, he moved over to the stove, "'Course I can, no worries."

You grinned, "Thanks, Jimmy."

Getting a, "No worries, kid," in return.

Just as you were about to leave, you made a stop at the fridge, opening it to get the glass jug of homemade lemonade. Along with three clean glasses from the cabinets right above your head. You filled them up equally before putting the lemonade back and heading out to the counter again, balancing all three on a tray. You didn't expect the man standing right across from you, making you stop in your tracks.

"Hey," Joel smiled at.

"Hi," you copied him. Again, feeling the need to slap yourself. How many times have you now said these two words in exchange to each other? 

"I...," he started, looking around the empty bar area. His hands glided into the back pockets of his jeans before he locked eyes with you again. "I'm sorry, I... Sarah- she forgot to order a drink. Is it okay if I- can I do that here?"

"Yeah," you nodded your head frantically, putting down the tray, as your eyes landed on the filled-up glasses. "I- I was actually just about to bring two of these over to you guys." Taking them into your grip and lifting them to his eyesight.

"Oh- did she-"

"They're like a... signature thing here. I thought you'd... might want something to drink." You placed them down on the bar top, "On the house."

"Oh no, I can't let-" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"No worries. A little welcome gift," you brushed him off, your fingers slowly digging into the wood below you.

Slightly hesitant, Joel reached out for the two lemonades.

"Gotta keep the customers coming back somehow," you added with a soft chuckle, getting a humourous laugh from him in return.

"Yeah... well..." he turned back to take a quick glance at his daughter before looking back at you, "we might be coming back more often anyways. Sarah got a recommendation from a classmate... and she's been really beggin' me to take her here. And we were in the area, so..."

"Miles, yeah... he- he told me," you nodded along with his storytelling, fidgeting with the dainty bracelet on your wrist - an older Christmas gift from your sister.

Joel raised his eyebrows in interest, "You know him?"

"Yeah," you nudged your head over to the left side of the diner, with the boy in the only occupied booth, "He's sitting over there."

"Aah...," he took a deep breath in, "Gotta make sure to tell Sarah," he mumbled slightly more to himself, but you were still able to catch it.

"Are they friends?"

Joel slightly shrugged his shoulder, "I guess so, yeah... they're both in an advanced Math course for middle schoolers, so... yeah."

"Advanced Math?" You wondered in astonishment. He hadn't told you all too much about her back in the car a few weeks ago, so this was news to you. You knew Miles was in that course, Christ, he had proven it to you many times before whenever you asked if he needed help with his homework, but you didn't know Joel's daughter went the same path. "A little genius."

"Yeah," the older Miller brother chuckled, looking down at his feet, "Kinda like you," he met your eyes. "I mean- not like you... really... because, you know, not... College level, but... she- she's interested in it too. But I- I guess... I don't know if she's really interested in it, but she seems to enjoy it so far, so..."

If your eyes and ears weren't playing with you, you could almost hear a slight added raspiness to his voice as he tried to avoid your gaze, talking on and on about his daughter. The grin making its way onto your lips was only an indication of your amusement at his rambling.

"I understand," you laughed. "Smart girl."

He nodded gently to himself, "That she is... she sure is..."

Your awkward chuckle was followed by a second of silence. Maybe a few seconds, actually. Joel could've excused himself to go back to the booth they chose, but he didn't even move an inch. Not even made an indication that he wanted to leave. Your eyes travelled around the counter, trying to look for something to busy yourself with, but there were no notes left, every other customer (there weren't a lot) seemed to be happy, so there was nowhere to go for you. You were stuck to stand still across from him, forced to bring the conversation to a halt as neither one of you knew what to possibly say next. Not until you went through each line that had spilled from his lips, remembering-

"You said you were in the area? Do you live here... or...?" What a smart move. Ask the stranger if he lived close to where you're working, fucking creep.

Joel cleared his throat, politely holding up a fist to his lips. "No no, she- Sarah... she has soccer practice every Monday 'round here."

"Oh," your eyes lit up, "At the old Ramson's field?" The corners of the man's lips curled up at the mention of the area that was once a strawberry farm. It was sold years ago by an elderly couple, the Ramsoms, to give the kids a place to run around freely. Somebody took the chance and turned it into a local soccer team's training ground.

"Yeah, exactly that. You know it?"

You nodded excitedly, "My sister used to go there. She was really active. Always the sporty one in the family, you know..."

For a second, Joel pursed his lips, smiling to himself before he answered. "So... sister's the sporty one and you're the smart one? Your parents got lucky."

"Well...," you talked down his compliment with a soft chuckle, "I don't know if I'd say I'm the smart one...," thinking about your next words for not longer than a second, "I did get in the car of a basically stranger who took me home while I was definitely intoxicated, so... don't know how smart that really is." Smirking at the mention of the evening.

The older Miller's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Why would you do- Oh." Stopping himself before he could continue. He shook his head with a laugh, "Right... yeah..." Just for a second, he had forgotten how truly unfortunate, or maybe not so unfortunate, your first meeting actually had been. "But," he took a deep breath in, "You got home safe. So it was a smart move, I guess."

"I got home very safe, yes," you agreed, a dreamy smile playing on your lips, as you pulled your hands back to yourself, feeling the chipped wood digging into your fingertips. "Thank you, again... really."

"All good," he gave you an assuring nod, "Rather getting in the car of a stranger than hangin' out with Tommy's group of... whatever they are."

You couldn't hold back the laughter coming from your lungs at his clear dislike of his younger brother's group of friends. Already back in the bar, it was clear to tell Joel was not a fan of them or the comments they made or truly anything about them all together, and he seemed to like making that very clear. He joined in your laughter with a slightly softer one, only to be interrupted as a voice from behind you suddenly shouted out.

"Pancakes and a ham sandwich!" Jimmy came through the swinging doors, the two plates in each of his hands as he stood next to you.

You turned to the side, giving him a quick smile.

"Oh- you were quick, thanks."

"I can take 'em," Joel was about to reach out, wanting to take his order, when you stopped him.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll bring them over," you assured him. "In a second."

"You sure?" He asked you cautiously.

You nodded, your lips pressed together tightly. "A girl's gotta work," you shrugged with a smile.

Joel gave you a quick nod before taking the two glasses of lemonade and going back to his table, the eyes of the little girl waiting for him getting big as she saw what he had brought along. You grinned at the sight.

"Y'sure you wanted to make the girl happy or the dad?" The old man's voice rang through your ear. Your head snapped towards him, taking a step in defence back.

"'Xcuse me?"

Jimmy shook his head in amusement, putting down the two plates of food. "I was in there tryin' to avoid interruptin' you two, but Lord..."

"What?" You wondered, a slight edge to your tone as you were interested in hearing what he was about to say.

He glanced at you with a soft smirk. "It was painful listenin' to that poor attempt of a flirt."

"A flirt? By who?" 

"Y'know damn well by who," he pointed a strict finger at you, the smile still evident on his face as you tried to hide your own.

You arrogantly lifted your head, making sure to stick your nose up extra high as you crossed your arms. "I have no idea what you're talkin' abou'," purposely copying his very Southern accent badly. "That wasn't flirtin'."

"Damn right, it wasn't."

"Oh, I'm sorry that I don't have forty years of flirting experience," you bit back jokingly, about to snatch the two plates off the counter.

Jimmy scoffed with a shake of his head, "I wasn't talkin' 'bout you, darlin'." And with those words, he left through the doors again, going back into the kitchen.

You stopped in your tracks, hurriedly following him. 

"Wait-," you called out, "You think he was flirting with me?"

"A poor attempt of a flirt," he corrected you, his back already turned to you as he started cleaning the counters. Before you could say anything more, he stopped you with a raise of his hand, "Go back to work, sweet pea. We'll talk about this later," giving you a last wink.

-

Joel and Sarah got their meals, and you brought Miles his free lemonade as well. It was already past 7pm, almost closing time as you usually locked the doors at 8pm. Most customers had left, besides a few teenagers you decided to hang around for a bit, enjoying the cheap prices of the food. The father-daughter duo in the corner had split up, leaving the oldest Miller brother to sit alone at the table, his finger furiously trying to type out a message on his phone, only to give up with an annoyed sigh and switch to calling the person. His little girl had joined Miles at his table after her dad had told her that he was there.

It was a rare sight. You had never seen the young boy interact with people his age. Or really with anyone but you or your mom. Other adults had tried to make a few conversations work, only to be met with silence from him. He didn't enjoy talking to strangers much, understandably so. The sound of the two giggling brought warmth to your heart and a smile to your face. He hardly ever grinned as much with you as he did right at that moment with her. You had no idea he even had people around him that could make him this happy. He didn't even smile at his mother when you once saw her pick him up. It was a one-time-only experience, he usually took the bus home alone. Sometimes you accompanied him, just out of fear and worry as to who would even think to let their own child travel by public transport in the dark. But maybe that was your big-city brainwashed mind talking and small-town parents saw the world completely differently than you did.

"We got any new ones?" Jimmy's smoker voice brought you back to the present and made your eyes leave the two kids to look at him.

You shook your head, "No, I think that was it for tonight, you can start closing up." You rarely ever got any new customers past 7:30, so you gave him the o.k. to clean up in the back while you started at the front.

Rounding the counter, you passed the tables, now empty, to get the last few plates and glasses that were left by people who had left merely a few minutes ago. Some others noticed you cleaning, handing you over everything they didn't need any more along the way. With full hands, you came back to the bar area, placing each dirty plate, glass, and mug on the window sill, between the front area with the kitchen. Jimmy gave you a grateful smile as he got a hold of them.

As you turned around, you were once again faced with the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of Joel Miller standing in front of you. He had stacked their two plates together, with the cutlery right on top, and the now empty lemonade glasses right next to them.

"Oh-," you chuckled, "Thank you," taking them off the counter to turn around and put them on the sill as well.

"It was really good, so, thank you," he commented with a tight smile.

"I'll let the chef know."

"The chef knows!" The older man shouted out from the kitchen, letting his head peak out the window with a big grin. His facial expression made both of you chuckle.

You turned back to face the oldest Miller, glancing up at him slightly shyly, not even trying to hide it. "You're leaving?"

Joel nodded, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Yeah... Tommy needs to get picked up. And Sarah's got school tomorrow. Gotta check if the homework's all done." You nodded along to every single word dripping from his lips, even daring to take a few quick glances down to see each movement and curve of them. "I mean- she always does them, I don't... I don't think she'd ever not do her homework, she'll even do them in short breaks or... in the car or something. But..."

"Just to make sure," you grinned at him, blocking his further rambling.

Joel nodded, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "Exactly... yeah..." He opened his mouth just a bit one more time, but wouldn't dare to speak, making you wait in silence, begging he would continue whatever his mind had come up with next.

He cleared his throat, looking over at his little girl, before switching back to you. "I- I should get her."

You gave him a hasty nod, "Yeah, yeah, of course."

Just as he passed the counter to walk over to the two kids who still seemed to be as giggly as they were 30 minutes ago, Joel turned back around.

He called out your name, making you whip your head around with hope.

"Yeah?"

"D'you know if his parents are gonna come pick him up?"

Not the question you were desperately waiting to come out of his mouth, but at least something.

You shook your head, "No, he usually takes the bus. I'll go with him after closing."

Hesitantly, but still, he nodded, mumbling a quick, "Alright," before continuing to make his way over to the other corner of the diner.

In the meantime, you got back to wiping down the front counter, before moving onto each table in the room. Even the ones that hadn't been used that day, you made sure to clean. In the position you were in, you could see Joel and Sarah heading for the front door, only to stop and wave at you.

"I'll see ya," the oldest Miller smiled, "Have a good night." You waved back, chuckling as Sarah excitedly waved as well.

"Bye, it was nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"You too, Sarah. Good night."

Your eyes didn't leave their forms until they were back in the car after Joel opened one of the doors on the passenger side in the back, waiting for his daughter to jump in. You couldn't help but grin at the sight. Other customers who passed you, said their goodbyes, making you walk over to their tables to collect the money they left for the food they had eaten. Arrived at the table the father-daughter had occupied merely minutes ago, you glanced at the money, counting the bills with your fingers only to realise the generous tip Joel had left for you. Damn it, there you were smiling again.

-

Miles was entertaining himself outside, still in the same booth while you joined Jimmy in the kitchen. Every table had been swiped over, the counter cleaned to perfection, the cashier counted and the money stored safely in the safe. You had found a comfortable place on top of one of the counters in the kitchen, a mug of the last bit of coffee that was in the pot now in your hand. Just as you were about to take a sip, a groan fell from your lips as the memory hit you.

"Huh? What?" The older man looked up from the floor he was sweeping over.

"I forgot to give him his coffee...," you mumbled out loud.

Jimmy's thick brows furrowed, "Who?"

"Joel..." He had ordered a black coffee. You had even told him it was free, and he never got to taste it... but then again, he didn't ask you a second time...

He seemed to think for a second before the corners of his lips curled up, "Aaah, Sir Handsome."

Your head shot up in confusion, "What? Sir Handsome? Really?"

Jimmy just shrugged, "That's what I'm gonna call him."

"His name's Joel. Joel Miller."

"Miller?!" He stopped in his tracks, coming to a halt with the chore, almost dropping the broom to sit against the counter. "From 'round here?"

You nodded.

"Miller, like Thomas Miller?!"

You glanced at him in confusion. "You mean Tommy Miller?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Whatever that punk's name was," and went back to cleaning up. His reaction got a chuckle out of you.

The name Tommy Miller, or like Jimmy sacred to call him, Thomas Miller, had embranded itself onto the entire staff of the Diner. Even past employees knew about him. Hell, even the food inspectors that used to come around once a year knew about him - he had the fantastic idea of following the lady around the diner like a lost puppy, flirting with her the entire time. The fact that she was well over 30 and he just a good 18 years old was so not important to him at the time.

He and his entourage were well-known around the area for multiple reasons. Their bad reputation had followed them all throughout their teenage and young adulthood, leaving a memory of their presence with each and every one who had ever come in touch with them.

"Yeah... they're... brothers."

With a clearly unamused facial expression, Jimmy glared at you, making you sit up straighter in an instant.

"Joel's the older one. And he's nothing like Tommy," you assured him. "I promise."

"And how d'you know that, young lady?" He popped his hip out to the right side, leaving the broom to lean against the counter as he took in his stance.

Jimmy might not be your father, but he's someone's. And you can tell. Your dad had been sick for longer than you'd like to remember, leaving Jimmy to take on the role of the next best thing of a male parental figure with a slight touch of a close friend.

"He- We...," you sighed, looking at the booth behind you to take a quick peek at Miles, colouring some pictures you had given him as entertainment. "I was at a bar-"

"When?" He nagged.

"Not too long ago."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago," you answered him with a sigh, trying to continue the story, when he interfered again. He shook his head, sighing your name out loud as he ran a hand over his face.

"Jimmy-"

"I won't tell your Mom, don't worry," he raised his hands in defence. "Just wantin' to know you were safe."

"I was," you told him, "partially thanks to Joel." Making him frown. "So. As I said. I was at a bar and Tommy, Joel's brother, was there with his group of friends-"

"Oh, Lord, help me...," Jimmy mumbled.

"Not his teenage friend group!" You called out, "I don't think so at least... I don't know," you brushed off the thought, "Anyways, I was there and Tommy invited me to sit with them. And at first, I wasn't really sure, but then Joel came too and I was like... why not, you know?" The older man gave you a knowing smirk. "But that quickly turned into a mistake because his friends, high school friends or not, were jerks, so I wanted to go home, but I had a few drinks, so Joel drove me home."

"You gave a random man your address?!"

"This is a small town!" You defended yourself, "If he was bad news, everyone would know!"

"That's not the point-"

"The point is!" You interrupted him, "I only got into his car because he was genuinely nice and the only one of them all that listened to me and actually seemed like he wanted to talk to me at that table." The part of your best friend technically forcefully reserving you a seat in the passenger side of his car was left out.

"Yeah...," Jimmy shook his head with a sigh, "You know who else was this charismatic?"

"Who?"

"Ted Bundy."

"Jimmy!" You threw your head back with a big laughter erupting from your lungs.

The audacity to even compare these two men.

"Dark hair, dark eyes, nice smile. Sounds like Ted to me." Like he knew the guy...

"You can't say that," you scolded him, wiping away the tear that had fallen from your eye in the middle of the fit of laughter. He joined you with a wholehearted chuckle, coming closer, to stand right across from you.

"So, what about him?" He suddenly turned serious, crossing his arms in front of his small beer belly.

You shrugged. "I like him," thinking for a second before continuing. "I only met him once- well, twice now, and I think he's really handsome. But... I don't know. I don't think he looks at me like that. This crush might be one-sided."

"Why not? Y'are a pretty lady!" He called out with another frown. It would let people believe he was mad when only compliments kept falling from his lips. "Ya smart, good with kids, polite. Why wouldn't he like ya?"

"He didn't even remember my name from the last time we met!"

Jimmy couldn't hide his smirk of amusement, "Sweetheart..."

"What? This isn't funny! I'm in a crisis."

"Y'are wearin' a name tag."

Your right hand immediately flew up to your chest and onto the plaque you always wore on the right side of your shirt. Glancing down, you saw the piece of plastic staring right back at you. How could you even forget that you were wearing that thing?

"But why..."

"I told ya," the old man shrugged his shoulder with a chuckle, "A poor attempt of a flirt."

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, hopping down from the corner to take off the apron and mentioned tag. "That's really what you call flirting?"

"I think, he's a man probably somewhere around his thirties with a little girl by his side. How much female attention ya think he's been gettin'?"

"Have you seen him?" You stared at him with wide eyes. "I think quite a lot."

"Okay, how much female attention ya think he's lettin' get to him? This man probably hasn't even spent a night with another woman in YEARS. Where's the mom anyways?"

You shrugged, "Izzy said she got pregnant in college and everyone just thought he left her. But he has a daughter now and I hardly believe he would let his high school sweetheart alone with a baby while keeping one from another woman."

"Ya really thought a lot 'bout that, huh?"

With a smirk, you looked up at the ceiling before glancing to the side, trying to avoid his eyes as you mumbled, "Maybe a little..."

"If ya asked ya sister 'bout it, I doubt it was a little," he chuckled, noticing how riled up you were getting about the subject as you threw your apron on the counter.

"Alright! I thought about it a lot, okay?! I don't want to come off too strong when he has a whole family waiting for him at home. But so far... I don't think he has... but... I don't know." You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "I have to get my information somehow."

"Could also just ask him, ya know?" Jimmy tapped your head as he snatched your apron off the counter after taking off his own and heading towards the employees' closet.

"I feel like that's rude. Imagine just talking to someone, kinda 'cause you're forced to do it and suddenly she's all up your business, asking you about romantic partners and whatnot." You came to a halt in the doorway, leaning against it as you watched him pull out his jacket and hand you your own.

"I don't think he'd be flirtin' so poorly with a girl if he had someone at home. "He sent you a stern look, "And if he has and still does that, he's a piece of shit." Making you chuckle as you put on the piece of outerwear.

"Can you stop saying poor flirting? He was talking. Maybe he's trying. He was telling me about his daughter."

"Jesus, sweet pea, he told ya her entire life story. Ya could write her autobiography with all the ramblin' he did today," Jimmy joked, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed along with him as you grabbed your bag and headed back to the kitchen. "You're overreacting."

"Am not!" He told you. "The last time I sounded like that was when I tried to get to sweet talk my beautiful Betty." Your lips formed into a smile at the mention of his wife. This man could talk about her for HOURS. He's a true role model for the upcoming generation, and you were hopeful for his children getting to watch a couple truly in love right in front of their eyes.

"Plus," he added, "I have a cousin. Jeff. Single dad for three years. He's been tryin' to get himself out there again, and good God... Jesus help him. This man knows nothin'. Nothin'. That Joel kid reminds me of him a little," he stopped for a second to look at your blushed cheeks that had started to heat up. "Like I said, I didn't want to interrupt ya, but it was painful. Just like with Jeff."

You shook your head in defeat. There you had your confirmation. If what Maria had told you wasn't already enough, you better trust the wise words of a fifty-year-old man, married to the love of his life for a good thirty years.

"So," you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath in, "You think I have a chance?"

Jimmy sighed. He shook his head. After a step forward, he stopped right in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, only to cup your cheeks right after.

"My dear," he made sure you were looking him straight in the eyes. "I think ya could make a man build a castle with his bare hands for ya. And I think ya know that too."

You smirked, retrieving a small memory from that night in his truck. "Well... he is a constructor."

Jimmy gave you a laugh with his whole heart, pulling your face in to place a warm peck on the top of your head. He let you free again, giving you a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Just give that man some time. Y'are a beautiful lady. He's nervous." With a final nod, he left through the back door of the diner, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He knew you'd be taking the bus to make sure Miles got home.

Speaking of, the last sounds echoing through the empty area were your beating heart and the scraping of the coloured pencils getting dragged over the paper by Miles. Your head turned to the side, and with a smile, you watched the young boy.

Just give him some time.

-

A week later, on Tuesday, you saw him again.

Monday had passed and there had been no sign of Sarah or him. Miles had been at the diner, entertaining you with some casually fun stories from school, including the young Miller girl in a few of them, but never anything else. And you weren't going to pester him about why she hadn't visited the diner after her practice on Monday.

But there he was, strolling into the room on Thursday, 6:30 in the evening. You were writing down the order of a group of teenagers when you heard the bell above the door. Right after you lifted your head, just wanting to call out a quick, "Welcome!", your breath got caught in your throat, making you cough out loud awkwardly. With a hand in front of your lips, you tried to cover it up, going back to writing down the order before disappearing into the kitchen.

"He's here!" You shout-whispered at the cook, who whipped his head around.

"Who?" He wondered, answering you quickly, but as soon as he saw your wide-eyed stare, he got the message. Jimmy smirked as he placed two finished plates on top of the counter. His eyes drifted from your form over the open window out into the restaurant, his smile dropping in an instant.

"Fucking Miller," he cursed out loud. You turned around to follow his gaze, finding not only Joel but also Tommy taking a seat in a booth right across from you. The older Miller's head seemed to notice your stare, glancing up, only for you to quickly turn around again.

"What do I do?" You continued to whisper, now even more careful about the others possibly hearing you as they were only a few feet away and an open window wasn't much of a sound barrier.

The cook rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. "Get that punk out of the restaurant."

"Wh- Not Tommy! I don't mean him," you explained. "Joel."

Jimmy looked back at you, "Just be yourself, Jesus," grumbling something to himself that you couldn't quite understand.

Defeated, you took a deep breath in, reminding yourself of who you actually were and trying to get your act back together. If Maria could see you, she'd be filming you for a future Comedy sitcom - she'd have a field day with the state you were in. Nervous because of a man...

Just as you turned around, ready to face the outside world again, Jimmy's call out of your name made you stop.

"Huh?"

"Give me that," he nudged his head towards your hands.

"What?" With a frown you glanced down, seeing the order you had just written down, already long forgotten again. "Oh- right," you ripped the piece of paper off the block and put it on top of the counter before trying to walk away again. But there he was, the older man stopping you one more time.

"What?" You asked him, clearly on edge now, slightly amusing him.

"I swear to God, I'll spit in his food. Don't matter what he'll order." You knew exactly, who he was talking about, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

You pushed the swinging doors, taking a quick look around the space, trying to see if anyone needed something for you, but it was, just like the last few times, barely packed. Going past the counter, you crossed the floor to the other side of the restaurant, already noticing one side of the handsome face you had been so desperate to see again.

"Hey, guys," you approached them with a smile, stopping right by their table, now also finally getting a peek at the younger Miller. Both men were still in some type of work attire and you noticed the slight shine and curl to their hair. Tommy's was longer and darker, but you prefered Joel's.

"Hey, girly," the youngest grinned at you before slapping his older brother's arm that was perched up on the table. "See, I told you, she'd be here," he turned back to you, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Good, busy. The usual, you know. You?"

"Good, good," he continued, "Getting back into the American lifestyle, chasing the American Dream." You didn't notice the roll of the eyes from Joel.

You couldn't help but chuckle, "You're chasing the American Dream?"

"Sure am," he answered you proudly. "Might not be as smart as you are, but a man's gotta try."

"'Course, why not," you shrugged, a smile still on your lips, hoping your answer would be enough.

"So," he huffed out a big breath, taking the menu into his grip, pretending to read over it. "I heard your turkey sandwich and pancakes are still as good as I remember."

You had to admit, the thought of Joel and Sarah telling him about their dinner at the diner warmed your heart a bit.

"I mean," you smirked, "I might be a bit biased, but I'd say so, yeah. Jimmy's still making them as good as always."

"Jimmy's still here?" Tommy wondered, making you nod a take a step to the side, letting him take a quick peek into the kitchen. "Ey, Jimmy!" The old man turned around, meeting the young Miller's eyes with a glare. Tommy lifted his hand for a wave, but the cook's attention was already back on the food he was making.

"Still doesn't like me, I see," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly as you laughed.

"Wouldn't be surprised if he spat in your foot." Joel suddenly spoke up. You looked over to him, giggling at the comment, making his lips curl up in return.

"He offered," you let him know, getting a chuckle out of him,

"Well," he shot his brother an annoying smirk, "Aren't you a treat for this town."

Tommy looked up at you, a hasty response dropping from his lips, "Tell him I decline. Gladly." Before scowling at his older brother.

Suddenly, you felt like you were interrupting something between the two. With a deep breath, the younger Miller brother was back to his old self, fixing the fit of his jacket. "Well, then... I'll take the turkey sandwich and see if it's still holdin' up to the good ol' times."

Your lips curled up into a teasing grin, deciding to just throw out the comment tickling your tongue. "You're doubting Jimmy's talent?"

"I would never," he quickly told you, making you chuckle and gently shake your head before you diverted your attention to the older brother, seeing him already looking up at you. The menu was barely in his grip as his fingers played with the laminated corners of the paper.

"I'll take the same," waiting for you to be done writing it down asking Tommy to pass him his menu and handing both over to you.

Before you turned around to get the orders over to Jimmy, you asked, "Coffee?"

Joel nodded, "Sure, thank you," intertwining his hands on top of the table as he looked at you. He didn't comment on the fact you forgot about that the last time he was there. You sure wouldn't forget it this time.

"Make that two, please," Tommy quickly added with a thankful nod after you assured them to be right back.

-

Trying to keep your eyes off the man was harder than you had hoped it would be. While you were able to busy yourself with taking orders and repeatedly cleaning the counter - you swear, it had never been cleaner than that day - you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over to the seat right by the window.

Joel and Tommy were sipping the coffee you had brought them, munching on their sandwiches, hopefully, oblivious to the internal fight you had going on with yourself. Miles was almost finished with his free lemonade and you were actually close to getting him another one, just so you had something to do. You couldn't just lurk around the counter like you usually would, otherwise, you'd find yourself staring at one of the brothers for too long.

During your little cleaning frenzy, you were able to let not only Jimmy's words but also Maria's re-run in your mind again. The evening, right after Joel and Sarah had spent their evening time in the diner, your best friend got every single detail from you, the moment she stepped into the apartment at 4am. Yes, you had stayed up to tell her. The session ended at around 6, the sun lighting up the living room being the indication to finally go to bed, where you found yourself awake for another good 40 minutes, just begging for a good dream to finally find you.

You had recalled the entire few hours he was in the same room as you. The moment he and his daughter stepped into the diner, the brief conversation you guys had, the coffee you had forgotten, up until the moment he had to basically verbally drag Sarah away from Miles' booth to get her home. Maria's screeching and excited jumps on the couch made you smile to yourself as you remembered the evening. It came close to a miracle that you got away without a single purple mark on your arm, considering she was repeatedly hitting you, smacking the naked skin of your upper arm each time his name fell from your lips.

She had put extra emphasis on the "I'll see ya," Joel had left the diner with. To which you sadly had to explain to her the casual meaning of those few words. It was a somewhat polite way to say goodbye to someone you know, not necessarily meaning that you'll see each other again. Maybe indicating it, but definitely not meaning it word for word - but Maria stood her ground.

You had also told her about your gossiping session with Jimmy afterwards. She had only met him a handful of times, her own working hours not leaving her much time to come and visit you at the restaurant, so told tales would have to do it. But even without really knowing the man, she agreed to each and everything he had said. 

"You know, there's not a lot that I would believe coming from a man or even listen to. But if anyone knows about a man's poor flirting techniques, it would be another man."

You had hidden your face in one of the pillows on your couch, the heat shooting into your cheeks being almost too much to bear, resulting in another few slaps to your arm from her. Jesus, could could start giggling and kicking your feet right now too, just at the mere thought of there being some sort of truth to their words and Joel's actions. But there was a barrier of reality still right in front of you. Not only had Jimmy mentioned his 'poor attempt of a flirt' but also the fact that your not-so-silly little crush was a 30-year-old father, with possibly very limited dating experience in the past few years. It wasn't something you had even tried to consider before Jimmy mentioned it. Add the unnecessary comment from one of Tommy's friends back at the bar, and it suddenly made sense.

"This poor man probably has no idea that you're even interested in him," Maria had whined out loud, "He's trying his best, but God..." You chuckled at her voice in the back of your head.

You ditched your daydream the moment the coffee pot was fully filled up again, the coffee machine making its usual sound to let you know it was done. With that, you began your usual round within the diner, passing each person who was holding onto a cup, asking them for a refill. Most happily accepted your offer, leaving you with a half-empty pot once you reached the two brothers.

"Another cup for you two?"

Tommy smiled up at the sound of your voice, "Sure, thanks, Y/N." You made sure his mug was properly filled up before turning towards Joel, who politely declined.

"Not for me, but thank you," nodding his head at you.

"Still trying to cut down?" His younger brother wondered, speaking over the brim of the mug he had brought up to his lips.

Joel took a deep breath, "If you had a 9-year-old lecturing you about the effects of caffeine each morning, you'd start thinkin' about it too." The explanation got a chuckle out of Tommy and made your lips curl up into a smile. Before you even thought about turning around to walk back behind the corner, you decided to continue the conversation. Taking every shot you could, just like Maria had told you.

"How is she?" You asked, "Sarah."

The older Miller brother lifted his head with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, but you just continued to smile at him. Tommy continued to hold his cup up against his mouth, hiding the smirk forming on his lips.

"Good," Joel let you know, "Very good. She... She had a test today. Lot to study yesterday... so we couldn't come over."

"I see," you humed, "I was wondering where you guys were."

A brief moment of silence followed your comment, almost making you regret admitting to the longing. Thankfully, the younger Miller got up from his seat with a clearing of his throat, making Joel perk up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"Gonna take a piss. You wanna control that too?" Sending his older brother an unreadable facial expression, almost glare, before he disappeared to head towards the toilet.

You frowned when a sigh escaped Joel's lips. "Everything okay?" You asked him, eyeing the older man carefully as he ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "Just... Tommy being Tommy."

A chuckle fell from you, making you cover your lips with your fingers. "Sorry," you excused yourself as he lifted his head, "Just... if I had a dollar for every time I heard those words from someone with that expression... I wouldn't be working here anymore."

Joel laughed. You managed to get the scowl off his face to replace it with a genuine laugh. He looked down at the table, shaking his head, but you could see his shoulders shaking and the unmistakable sound of joy coming from him. You tried to hide your amusement, the moment he locked eyes with you again.

"I thought you worked here because you were a good daughter," he commented. He remembered the conversation in his truck. On the way to your place, you had briefly mentioned the reason you had come back to Texas. And he remembered.

You grinned, "Oh, I'm a great daughter." Joel chuckled. "But I wouldn't mind the extra cash." Your own words let a thought flash into your mind. "Speaking of," you started again, "Thank you for the tip... last week. It really- you... you didn't have to do that."

"All good," he sent you a quick smile, "Good service needs a good reward."

"Even though I forgot your coffee," you sheepishly admitted, just getting another chuckle out of him.

"We got good food and free drinks, so you won't find me complaining," he simply told you, making you smile and look down at the pot of coffee you were still holding onto.

"Well," you had started to tap around with your fingers, trying to look for the next words to say, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"'Course," he nodded at you before you turned around to get behind the counter again.

-

Only a few minutes later, the two brothers decided to call it a day and stand up to leave. You were just coming back out from the kitchen when you found them standing at the register, both smiling when you came to a halt.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," Tommy grinned at you, gently smacking his hand on top of the counter.

You chuckled, "Bye, have a good evening." 'Night' would've probably been more suitable as it was pitch black outside. A quick look towards the clock would also tell you it was already 7:51pm - almost closing time.

The younger one turned towards the exit door while Joel stood still, waiting for your eyes to lock again.

"I'll see you next week. Goodnight," he simply said with a smile, turning around without another word. His soft voice lingered in your head even after he was already through the doors and on his way to his beloved pick-up truck.

You quickly pulled yourself back into the presence. With a swift turn around, you rushed back into the kitchen. Even before the door was fully closed again, you were jumping around the space, getting a shocked facial expression from Jimmy in return.

"He said 'See you next week!!" You squealed in exactly, your arms moving around in the air as you got closer to the chef.

With a tight grip on his arm, you shook him, "He said 'SEE YOU NEXT WEEK'!"

The older man just grinned at you, shaking his head as he watched you dance around the kitchen.

"How much joy just a few words can bring to ya, kid," he softly spoke, throwing the dishcloth over his shoulder to cross his arms and lean against the counter.

"Just a few words?!" You stared at him, stopping your movements, "He just promised me that he'll come back next week! He WANTS to come back!" Reality hit you for a split second. "I sound really delusional, but I. Don't Care." Before starting your little happy dance around the space again. Jimmy's deep chuckles bounced off the walls.

"Can't remember the last time I've seen ya so happy." He admired the pure happiness spilling from you, filling the room with nothing but joy. With a sigh, your spinning around came to an end.

"I'm happy because I get to see a good-looking hunk of a man again! Can you blame me?"

"Hunk of a man?" Jimmy laughed out loud, his entire upper body shaking as he walked around the corner to push you towards the door. "Get to locking up and then ya can tell me all about Sir Handsome again."

"Okay!" You squealed again, pushing out the door, the echo of his laughter still in the background. Suddenly, getting through the rest of the week seemed to be much more enjoyable than before.

-

On Friday, one of the only days, you had gotten off of work at the diner, you decided to join Maria in the bar. While she was working, you were enjoying your time sitting at the counter once again. You were sipping on your second drink of the night, drinking slowly as you weren't looking for something wild tonight, but rather just enjoying a nice calm evening. It was around 11pm and even though you had been sitting there for a good 2 hours, there was not a massive amount of alcohol rushing through your body as you had asked your best friend to keep the drink mild. But some people had other plans that night.

"Well, hello there," a deep voice slurred next to you. With slight confusion you turned to the right, eyeing the man that had tumbled up to the bar counter.

You sighed, "Hey." Nothing against drunk people, hell, you were one of them from time to time, but God... sometimes you can just tell, you know?

He blinked at you, "A pretty little girl so alone in the middle of a bar in the middle of the night?" His dirty blonde hair was roughed up and the plaid button-up hung loosely around his frame. It seemed to be a size too big.

"Yeah," you nodded, "And I'd prefer to keep it that way, to be honest." For tonight, there were no plans. You were waiting for a beautiful man on Monday, that was plan enough.

The guy chuckled, holding onto the counter as he stumbled back, "I'm Cody and I'm sure I could change ya mind. I could show ya good time, I promise."

"You're trying to sell yourself here? I'm not interested, thank you," you simply told him, internally begging for Maria to come back to the front, but she was being kept busy in the back apparently. Nobody else seemed to be interested in what was going on between you and the drunk fuck next to you.

With slight confusion written across his face, he continued to stumble over his words. "Who says anythin' about sellin'? I ain't sellin' myself. Ya can get this here for free," pointing towards himself.

"As I said," you repeated yourself, making sure annoyance laced your voice, "Not interested." Just as you tried to get up and move, hoping to get behind the bar and into the backroom, you felt a tight grip on your arm.

"Listen," the man stopped you, "You don't know what ya missin' out on here, sweetcheeks."

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into if you continue to talk like that to me. Let go of me," you hissed at him. You were taught how to use your words, not your hands though, so you didn't really know what exactly you were threatening him with.

A disgusting sarcastic chuckle came from him while his grip just tightened. You glared into his eyes with a hint of fear as he let his face get closer to you, "Look, I don't wanna do this another-"

"Hey, what's goin' here?" Never would you have ever thought to be thankful to hear that voice. Whipping your head to the left, you found a wondering Tommy Miller, glancing between you and the drunk guy. A sigh of relief tumbled from your lips. "You two are lookin' awfully close."

"Get back to ya own business, cowboy," the guy spat at the younger Miller brother, his eyes raking over his frame when he found the boots Tommy was wearing. "I'm just talkin' to the pretty lady 'ere."

"Well, but I know that pretty lady, so it kinda is my business, you know?" He simply answered him, daring to take a step closer. Tommy glanced at you, "You know him, Y/N?" He asked.

You shook your head with a gulp, to which he just nodded, but before he could even say something, the drunk, still holding onto you, beat him to it.

"She's lyin'! I just introduced myself!"

"You know, I believe her," Tommy stopped him, raising his hand to place it on top of his that was gripping your arm, "So how about you take your-"

"Get your fucking hands off me!" The other guy snapped at him, pulling his hand off you, reacting to Tommy's touch like it was fire.

The younger Miller could just laugh at the reaction. "What?" He chuckled, "So you can put your hands on a random woman but as soon as I do it it's uncomfortable? A bit ironic, don't you think?"

"What are ya tryin' to do here?" With a few steps, the guy was head to head with Tommy, making you take a quick jump back. "Ya think ya gotta prove you've got some big balls here?"

"Me?" Tommy pointed to himself with a chuckle, "Nah, I just wanted to know if I gotta play translator." His comment got a look of confusion from the man in return. "I didn't you understood the English language because I'm pretty sure she said she wasn't interested, but you just... ignored that?"

"Ya makin' fun of me?"

"Am I?" Tommy continued to nag at the guy, making you take a step forward, trying to reach for him.

"Tommy, don't-" only to get pushed back by the dirty-blonde man.

"Get the fuck away!" He shoved you, making you stumble backwards, hitting the back of another guy, to whom you quickly excused yourself.

The younger brother looked at you in concern, but as soon as he saw you safe on your feet, his attention was back on the drunk in front of him.

He sighed, "Look," he motioned towards you. "Now I have to hit you. Because you just hit her."

"I didn't hit her," the guy scoffed, "I barely even pushed her."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you did that," with a strong force, Tommy pushed into the guy's chest. "Maybe even a little harder, like this," and repeated it with some added strength.

In clear annoyance, the drunk man shoved Tommy's hands off of him, only giving it another second before he let his fist swing. The Miller brother was quick to react, moving out of the way before landing the first official punch to the guy's side. The blonde groaned at the impact, only letting it affect him for a split moment before pushing Tommy further away. It gave him the time and space to land his own first hit to Tommy's face, making you gasp out loud. 

The entire's bar attention was now on the two fighting men, creating some space for them as they stumbled across the floor. You could only hear a few mumbles around you as your eyes were fixed on the fight in front of you. You tried to look for Maria but a crowd had formed right in front of a bar with mostly men, taller than you, hiding the counter area.

One punch made Tommy land on his ass as the other guy whipped his hand over his lips, you guessed there was some blood. You took the opportunity, to get down on the floor, your hands on the Miller's arm.

"Come on, stop this, don't waste-"

But before you could finish it, somebody shoved your body away from Tommy, making your back hit the wooden pole right behind you. You groaned out loud, closing your eyes for a second.

"Y/N!" You heard Maria's voice as she suddenly appeared, standing in front of the crowd with a glass bottle in her hand. In the next moment, she held the bottle up, swinging it to let it hit the back of the drunk guy's head before he could land another punch to Tommy's face as he straddled him. The man fell to the side, right by your feed, making you flinch away.

"Are you okay?!" Maria was right by your side, crouching down as she helped you up.

You nodded, "Yeah, yeah," you had only hit your back, which would definitely leave a mark, but not much else. Your worry lay on the guy who hadn't gotten up yet. No, not the clearly drunk one.

"Tommy," you rushed over, watching him as he groaned, blood rushing down from his nose. You couldn't even tell if there was blood coming from his mouth as well.

He huffed out, "Ah, fuck," trying to steady himself with his hands on the floor as he pushed himself up.

"Jesus Christ," Maria whispered out loud. The hushed voices around you got louder, making her raise her voice, "Everybody either get back to their table or out of here! There's nothing to see here!" After the first guy went after her demand, the rest followed.

"Tommy," you sighed, "I think we should get you to a hospital."

"Are you okay?" He suddenly asked you. You nodded quickly,

"I am. But you don't look good."

"N-No... no hospital," he told you trying to stand up more, making you stumble up as well as you tried to hold onto him even though he was putting half of his weight on you already.

"You have to, Tommy. Your nose is probably broken."

"If only the nose," Maria commented, suddenly having an ice pack and some paper tissues in her hold. "You wanna take my car? Get him to the hospital... I'll see what I can do about... this one," she nodded towards the guy on the floor that was slowly coming back to consciousness. "Probably have to call the police."

"Did that already!" Out of nowhere, Steven suddenly shouted out from behind the bar, making your best friend roll her eyes.

"Where the fuck were you before?!"

"I can't let... I...," Tommy groaned, not finishing his sentence as his mouth seemed to hurt.

"Take my car," Maria quickly told you, handing you the ice pack, tissues and the keys from her bag pocket, "And call me once you're there. I'll handle this here." She also got your bag for you.

You smiled at her, "Thank you," to which she nodded, giving you a soft touch on the back before you tried to move Tommy towards. He seemed to be okay walking, but his face was clearly in pain as he held his head down. The walk towards Maria's car was quiet, only his groans and moans filled the air between the two of you.

In the car, you put on the radio, trying to let the silence not become awkward.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked you again.

You nodded, "You asked me that already. I'm okay. Only hit my back."

"Fucking idiot...," he mumbled, mostly to himself probably, but you shook your head.

"You too," you told him, "Why would you start a fight like that? I thought those days were over."

"I ain't lettin' a man talk like that to a woman, no matter what. And I know you, so I'm definitely not walkin' past that," he defended himself, almost raising his voice, but the situation told him not to.

The rest of the ride, the two of you listened to whatever was coming from the radio.

-

At the hospital, the two of you were told to wait in the waiting room as his injuries were not severe enough for him to be put in the emergency room. If it wasn't as late as it was, you would've started something with the personnel, but you already had enough of that for one night. They did offer you a new ice pack though and some more tissues.

You took a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to Tommy, trying to find a bearable position. "Should I call Joel?" You asked him, knowing how close the two seemed to be.

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, "Fuck..." He thought for a second before continuing, "No... let's not do that. Unless you really wanna see him." One quick glance to the side, you found him smirking at you, giving you a quick wink. Even with all the blood on his face, this man was still able to joke around...

"You...," you shook your head in disbelief, "You're in the hospital. This is about you. I think he should know about his little brother being in the hospital," you snapped at him, but he only continued to smile.

"But you want to see him again, right?"

"Tommy-"

"I heard you in the diner." 

Your head snapped to glance at him. The annoying grin was still plastered on his face.

"What?"

He chuckled. "I left my hat in the booth. When I came back to get it I saw you dancing around the kitchen singing that he'll see you next week."

With a pout on your lips, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head to look away. You knew there was no blame on him for this situation and all the blame was to be put on you, but you couldn't help but feel sulky towards him.

You scoffed, "It's not nice to listen to other people's conversations."

"But now I can help you," he nudged your side, hissing softly as he moved. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was in serious pain and if you needed to get a nurse. He seemed fine as the smirk returned.

"Get your nose fixed first, then we'll talk."

With another groan, he sat forward, suddenly reaching into the back pocket of his jeans before falling back into the seat with a groan. He handed you his phone.

"Call him."

"Tommy, you didn't want him here. I'm not-"

"He'll be pissed at me, yes. But y'all can talk while I'm in there," you glanced at you, "Get to know each other a little better," wiggling with his eyebrows. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, your lips curling up against your will. He nudged the Nokia closer to you, giving you no other possibility but to take it.

"I'll be right back," you mumbled, getting a giggle out of him.

"Start the call with 'hey babe'!" He shouted after you, putting on a fake high-pitched voice to mock you. A harsh 'ssh' from one of the nurses made him sink back into the chair and you turned around and threw him a quick middle finger before disappearing further into the corridor.

You pressed the buttons to get to his contact list, not finding anyone under J that wasn't a girl's name, so you decided to just look through the entire thing, starting with A, until you finally reached B.

Barbara, Beatrice, Billy, Boobs-

He had a contact for 'Boobs'? You shook your head.

Brother Old.

This could either be someone else, an old number of Joel or, as you had hoped, Joel's current number. You pressed to call it, putting the phone up to your ear. After four rings, somebody on the other side picked up.

"What?" An annoyed groan erupted through the speaker. The familiar roughness to his voice was unlike any other's.

"Hey Joel, it's Y/N," you answered him. Some shuffling around seemed to happen in the background before his voice rang through your ear again.

"Y/N? What's going on? What happened?" He hastily wondered.

You took a second of silence to form a good sentence, just thinking about what he was currently doing or even just looking like. It was in the middle of the night, and just taken from his voice, you'd say you had interrupted his sleep. Did he sleep in a pyjama set? No, he was a dad. A true dad wouldn't sleep in much else but some shirt and boxers. Or maybe he's not wearing anything at all to sleep. You were drifting off.

"Ehm... So... Sorry for calling so late-"

"It's okay, don't worry," he quickly assured you with a heavy breath.

Out of habit, you bit down on your lip before continuing. "I'm calling from the hospital. Tommy got into a fight."

"God damnit..." Joel cursed under his breath. There were more incoherent sounds in the background as he spoke. "Which hospital?"

"St. David's."

"Alright, I'm on my way," he told you.

You nodded even though he wouldn't be able to see it, "Okay, we're in the waiting room right at the reception."

"Good, thank you."

"You're welcome, bye."

With a sigh, he put the phone down, ending the call and making your way back into the waiting room.

Tommy lifted his head at the sound of your footsteps getting closer to him.

He grinned at you. "And?"

You shook your head, handing him his phone back. "He wasn't thrilled."

"Ah," he brushed off your answer, "I bet your face will make him happy."

"Joel- Tommy, I mean-"

"I'm already getting confused with him? Wow, I'm honoured," he nudged you as soon as you sat down, the smirk still evident on his face.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, not even trying to hide your amusement. "It's late."

"But you do like him."

"I barely know him," you defended yourself.

"But you find him attractive," he continued to nag further.

You nodded. There was no reason to hide it from him if he had already caught your burst of excitement back at the diner. "But I think half the female population of Austin would too."

"But half of the female population of Austin isn't you."

His comment made you turn your head in interest.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" You squinted your eyes at him.

Tommy smiled. "I think I know my brother well enough to notice when he finds someone attractive."

You laughed at his answer. "Wow, you're just gonna out him like that?"

"Somebody's gotta do it," he shrugged, "What else he got a younger brother for." You shook your head in amusement.

You may not be the closest to Tommy, but this was the most time you had ever spent with just him. Plus, he had just admitted to noticing his brother's attraction towards you. That brought a thought to your head.

"Can I ask you something?" It probably wasn't the ideal situation, but oh well, if you already had him sitting right next to you, confined to a chair, why not. Shooting your shots.

"Sure."

"Is there... you know... I mean... with Sarah, I was thinking about like... her mom?"

He shook his head, "Don't worry 'bout that," he let you know, turning to meet your eyes. "It's not my story to tell, but... she's not in the picture."

You almost felt stupid. You had only seen this man a total of three times, yet he had managed to enarmour you and let you think that you suddenly had the right to know everything about his personal life.

"Why?" He asked with the smirk back plastered on his face, "You wanna ask him on a date?" The question took you by surprise, making you open your mouth, ready to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Your lips quivered as you tried to come up with an answer, but Tommy just laughed at your surprised reaction. The rose blush to your cheeks gave you away.

"You should," he told you, "It's been like... God, I don't even know, like... two or three years. Christ, maybe even four."

"Since his last relationship?" You wanted to be careful with your questions, but there was no way when Tommy played open book to you.

He shook his head, glancing at you. "Since his last date."

"Oh..."

So Jimmy was right.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded to himself, "You'd be surprised how many women get scarred off by the whole dad thing." Your lack of answer made him look over again. "But not you."

"Hm?"

"You ask about Sarah. He likes that."

"Well... she's his daughter, so... kinda obvious to ask about her," you were taken aback by the disinterest of the other women he had mentioned.

He shrugged, "Yeah, but like I said... not many care 'bout that."

A few moments of silence followed. Neither one of you seemed to have any will to continue your conversation. You didn't want to keep nagging further and you were pretty sure Tommy had started to doze off in his seat. It gave you some time to think, but a sudden jolt from the man next to you brought you back. He was about to sit up straighter when his eyes caught something behind you making you flinch and duck into the chair again, groaning at the impact.

"What?" You wondered, turning around to only find two police officers in the hallway, talking to a nurse. With a frown, you turned back to the Miller brother. "What?"

"They can't see me like this."

His reaction alarmed you immediately. "Why not?"

He seemed to think about his next answer before spilling out, "I know those guys. And they don't like me. If they see me like this, I'm fucked."

"What?"

"I just got a new job, I can't get another mark in my record."

Your eyes widened, "Your criminal record?" To which he just nodded. "Tommy!" You shouted-whispered at him, making him shush you. "How many fights did you get in."

"A few, okay? Just," he put his finger up to his lips, signing for you to keep quiet. You dropped back against the backrest of the chair with a sigh, shaking your head as you ran both hands over your face, mumbling to yourself.

From the side, you tried to watch the two officers as they passed you, hearing a relieved chunk of air leaving Tommy as he sat up again. You couldn't believe it. You knew he wasn't an angel and you remembered his troubled time as a teenager. What you didn't know was how that time had continued to chase him into adulthood.

Noticing his still slightly on edge stance, you decided to change the subject, hoping to give him some kind of distraction. And it just so happened that you had an actual topic of interest for you personally.

"You think I should ask him out?" A gulp followed your question, unsure if dropping that would reveal itself to be a mistake or not.

"On a date?" Tommy's voice was steady again as he looked at you, his lips curled into a soft smile. You nodded, making him chuckle. "Give him some time and he'll ask you himself."

"You think?"

He nodded but continued. "I mean, you can ask him. I... I don't know how he'd react, to be honest, but he wouldn't leave you hangin'. He's just... he's a traditional southern-"

"Gentleman," you said in union, chuckling together.

"I mean," Tommy started, "You know, if a woman offered herself to me, I would never decline-" You stopped him with a soft shove to his arm, making sure not to be too harsh since you didn't know how severe his injuries were. "But," he pushed your hand away from him, "Joel's a bit more old-fashioned in that way."

"I see," you nodded understandingly. Hearing this in connection to any other man would've probably made a chill run down your spine and the sick feeling of pure disgust bubble in your stomach, but for some reason, it didn't when it came to Joel. Tommy spoke so softly about him being s traditional gentleman, he made it sound good and proper. Not conservative and old. 

A nurse's voice, calling out for Tommy made you look up as he tried to get out of his chair. You offered to help him, but he brushed it off, telling you to 'wait here for Joel' with a wink before following the nurse down the hall.

-

Only a few minutes later, heavy footsteps stomped through the corridor, coming to a stop at the reception. Before the older Miller brother could even ask for information on Tommy, his eyes found you. Curled up on a chair, your eyes closed and your shoulders lifting and dropping in an even beat. With the time now being well over midnight, you had given into your body's pleas for sleep and found some form of comfort in the waiting room chair.

He tried to be as smooth as possible, getting into the chair right next to you, previously occupied by his brother, but even at the slightest sound, you jerked up, lifting your head to find him.

"Hey, sorry for wakin' you," Joel excused himself, brushing his hands over the top of his jeans. He had thrown them on even though they should probably already be in the wash and the shirt was wrinkled as he had fallen asleep in it. His unruly hair, messy and curly, showed the sleep you had woken him up from. But even in this state, which most would describe as dishevelled, he still managed to look good. He looked comfortable. Warm.

You shook your head with a tired smile, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped you. "It's okay."

"How long have been you here?"

"Ehm...," you tried to look around for the clock on the wall. 12:05. "Not too long, like 40 minutes or something."

He nodded, letting a sigh fall from his lips. "What happened?"

You rubbed your eyes, forgetting about the makeup you had put on a few hours before, but it probably was already smudged either way. Unsure if the story Tommy would tell would hold any truth or if he'd make up something, you decided to tell it in whole.

"There was a guy," you started, continuing to explain the entire situation to Joel, meeting his eyes a few times during the story, watching him go from annoyed, to concerned, to slightly irritated. He let you finish before asking further questions.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Just hit my back."

Joel frowned, "How?"

"I tried to get to Tommy after he got pushed to the floor, but that idiot threw me against a pole," you let him know, the scowl on his face only deepening. His wrinkles weren't just a sign of age. This man had been frowning too much in his life. Yet, it somehow suited him.

"You don't wanna get that checked? You sure you're okay?" He asked you further, but you just continued to nod.

"I drove here. I'm fine," you shrugged it off. Joel just sighed again, looking around the room before he continued.

"Anyone called the cops?"

"Probably," you answered him honestly. You didn't know for sure, but there was a high chance that you just got out quick enough. His deep breath in and out made you remember the reaction the two officers brought out of Tommy. "But I don't know. Maria said she'd handle it. My friend at the bar," you quickly added.

Joel glanced at you, his elbows digging into his thighs. "That's nice of her. Thank you." But you just nodded again.

Carefully, you decided to get closer. "Tommy mentioned something about a new job..."

"Yeah," the older brother sat himself up straight, letting himself fall back into the chair, "I got him a job at the company I work at. Just carpenter stuff, but... if they find out he was involved in a bar fight," he shook his head, "I don't know. My boss already took him in just because I practically begged him to."

"I see," you answered him, just letting him know you had been listening.

"Thank you for staying here with him. And for bringing him. And thanks to your friend for handling the whole police-" Joel began to ramble, but you were quick to stop him, subconsciously just putting your hand on his upper arm.

"It's okay," you smiled up at him, getting a thankful nod and soft smile in return.

It was only then it hit you.

Not only did this man have the responsibility of raising a nine-year-old girl, but he also was taking care of a man in his mid-to-late twenties. Letting him live with him, making sure he had a job, and picking him up from a hospital after a bar fight. You could see the tiredness on his face, and it didn't only have to do with the fact that he had to get up in the middle of the night. It was years old tiredness. You know it from your father. Carrying the world on his shoulders, dragging him, not letting him live to his full potential. The constant instinct to care and worry following his every step.

On one side, you couldn't help but find it attractive, his primal instict of protection, but on the other, you felt deeply sorry for him, you realised. If he hadn't been a met-three-times 'stranger' you would've offered him a hug. He looked like he could need one.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3 @skysmiller @lizlil

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask @sidelnes

#tlou #the last of us #series #couldn’t love more #Joel miller x reader #Tommy miller #Joel miller #hbo!joel miller #Pedro pascal #x Reader #Pedro pascal!joel miller #fluff #pre-outbreak!joel #hbo!tlou

[xinyuehui]

I don't know if I want to write a massive essay about this, but they missed the whole point with all the characters, especially Ye Wenjie. I'm assuming everyone who said this portrayal is accurate and a raging angry Ye Wenjie is good is because they either never read the book, or non-Chinese, or both. (Or maybe projecting their own views on Maoism). Ye Wenjie received higher education during a time period where it wasn't common for women. She believed in science, she believed in people, but time and time again, the people in her life let her down and never showed any signs of remorse. What I've gathered from the text is that she isn't fuelled by rage, more so she is dead on the inside, she has lost all hope in people. Her decision to reply is not because she wants to destroy, she believes that a civilisation from a higher standpoint could save humans, and this roots in the fact that she is educated. She's not some crazy rage driving women who would ever say "time is a motherfucker", not even a Chinese equivalent.

I'm not sure why the writers decided to write Ye Wenjie and Yang Weining's relationships out of the story...Oh so she is rescued by a white man later on hmm??? (Coincidentally, all the characters driving the plot are also non-Chinese in this). Ye Wenjie marrying Yang Weining and giving birth to Yang Dong gave her a glimpse of light in the life from which she had lost hope. Spending time in Qijiatun also gave her a bit of warmth. When she pushed Yang Weining off the cliff, it marked another significant point, she was calm, cut the rope with no hesitation. She did not care to get herself entangled in romantic affairs. Making her have a child with Evans is laughable. They also dumb down Yang Weining, to the extent that Ye Wenjie had to explain 43+8=51 to him. Mind you, he was a real proper engineer. (Weirdly with all the diversifying, they did not keep a single male Chinese scientist in the main team huh)

Anyways, before I go on a tangent. The writers have fast tracked everything and left out the finer text about the characters in the book. I'm not sure if they missed the point or that nowadays the audience are ruined by fast media, something like the tencent version are simply too slow for the people in the west. Any of my moots and followers who watch cdramas will know that the real good stuff is all in the build-up. It's all the little text that adds up to a fleshed out character. If the culture difference is too much for Netflix, leading them to change all the characters and most of the plot, why not just buy a western ip. There's plenty of good western sci-fi ips.

I can't help but think they want to do this because they wanted to film the scene where Ye Zhetai is beaten to death. Have an excuse to turn Ye Wenjie an angry woman. We all know why. If they really cared about showing a true China during that time, they would have spend some care with the Red Coast details as mentioned above (we did not have screens in 1960s that display Chinese text!!! And definitely no simplified Chinese characters on computers!!!!). Instead of having her snog Bai Mulin off - unrealistic since people were a lot more conserved back then, they would not have done this and it's ooc for Ye Wenjie. Falling in love with Evans - a real blasphemy. I guess the 3 Body Problem here means 3 bodies pounding at each other. Jin-Raj-Will also seem to have their own 3 body problem going on too.

(One last tangent) Ye Wenjie and Yang Dong(Vera) as scientists not believing in god but having monks at her funeral ??????????? Not even a typical normal Chinese funeral will have monks. The stereotype enforcing is real.

#okay i did say im not writing a massive essay in sentence 1 but i got carried away #3 body problem #three body #also changing the game to a mongol background - as if it isnt obv enough what they are trying to do #i cant help but to think that this adaption being bad is what they intended #typical viewer will not care to read the original they'll pass this as bad chinese media and leave a bad impression on china overall

[ryttu3k]

Having some Thoughts about Astarion and his perceived intelligence, or lack thereof (it was largely in the tags of this post, which I absolutely recommend reading, but it was getting overly long).

Astarion is perceived as… not very bright. Like it's kind of a running joke in fandom at this point, and it's been bugging me for a bit, so…

INT 13 isn't actually low

INT 13 is actually a fair bit above average! Of the main six Origin characters, only Gale has a higher INT score at 17, which is what you'd expect from a wizard and Actual Nerd (complimentary). Wyll has INT 13 as well, Lae'zel and Shadowheart have the average score of INT 10, and Karlach has INT 8. Of the secondary companions, Halsin and Minthara also have INT 10, and Minsc and - interestingly - Jaheira both have INT 8.

So, far from being one of the dumbest companions, stats-wise, he's actually one of the most intelligent.

Poor planning skills aren't a reflection of intelligence

Yes, Astarion is notoriously terrible at coming up with long-term plans. You know what he also hasn't been able to do for two hundred years? Come up with long-term plans.

He spent about forty years living a normal life, then five times that duration as a slave, being punished for any show of thinking for himself. He tried to make a plan that went against his master's orders, and he spent a year buried alive for it. His only purpose was "to seduce anything with a pulse"; thinking outside of that wasn't just discouraged, it was punished. He's out of practice!

Also, there are a lot of incredibly intelligent people who can't make plans for Assorted Reasons, even without two hundred years of being a puppet to someone else's will. Dyspraxia, ADHD, all sorts of things.

The whole smooth brain thing

This one does bug me, but I also suspect it was a nod to fandom perception. The epilogue has Bing-Bong in it, there were at least parts written well after the game release, and the subsequent fandom response. It's entirely possible, if not likely, that parts of the writing were influenced by fandom perception.

He had low INT in early access

Yes, and they changed it, and he no longer does. Wyll was essentially rewritten between EA and now. Karlach wasn't even a main character in EA. The Dream Visitor was extremely different in EA! Astarion was below average intelligence in EA, and now he's above average ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Neil Newbon says Astarion is intelligent

"I see him as being very intelligent — very erudite — and highly manipulative when he wants to be."

From this interview. I figure he'd know better than anyone save Stephen Rooney, y'know?

The trauma

I mean we can't understate the trauma. The trauma would do a number on your cognitive abilities (and your everything else lbr). And on top of two centuries of going through The Horrors, Cazador repeatedly belittled and infantilised him, hard not to internalise that when Cazador had complete control over his entire existence.

This isn't really meant to be an essay or aimed at anyone in particular and also quite possibly my 'burnt-out gifted kid who valued their intelligence above everything else' is showing but that may be more a Gale thing! Just that the whole 'lmao Astarion is so dumb' trope was bugging me for this, that, and the other reason, so. A post.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #the pale elf

[bagdaddyb]

please please please, jealous Larissa x teacher!reader

Mine

Warnings: S M U T 18+, minors dni!! Filth with little plot, possessive behavior, jealous behavior, slapping, man handling, (lots of) dirty talk, bulge kink, breeding kink, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink mixed with a little verbal abuse, slight brainwash, punishment/spanking, tears, kinda toxic, Dark Dom Daddy Larissa (Larissa is a bit mean), Bottom Puppy Reader. 

Reader and Larissa have a non established relationship

Authors notes: I’m so sorry anon!!!! I wrote this whole snippet thinking the request was possessiveness then saw it was jealousy and had to work it in there so I’m so sorry if it seems rushed if you don’t like it anon just let me know and I will write something else.

You watched Larissa with a mixture of love and disdain as she shot the fake gun in the air commencing the Poe Cup. For a moment, you question yourself, were you not partner material? Was there a reason this goddess of a woman had only been using you as a sexual rouse for the past six months and not made any move towards progressing you're relationship. In the beginning it was fine you might of even said it was all you wanted at the time but now you longed for a loving embrace, a sweet kiss goodnight, the feeling of your fingers wonderfully tangled in another and while you did sometimes get those from Larissa it wasn’t the same. You wanted more than a fuck buddy wanted more than someone who just took out their frustrations on you and as you sit here and think to yourself you realize that's all Larissa wanted to be. Finally ripping your burning gaze from the woman you settle with yourself in the decision to move on with your life. Walking to the right of the stage to get a better view, your gaze turns to one of adoration as you watch Ophelia halls boat pull into first. Becoming the dorm mom of the hall was like a puzzle piece slipping into place and you couldn't be more proud of your girls. Smiling wide as the group of four run across the finish line you feel a strong beat in your chest when Larissa announces Ophelia hall has won for a second year in a row. Making your way forward you only slightly grimace as mud covers your black boots, luckily the extra height from the shoes saving your black pants from the same fate. Black sweater protecting you from the cold biting wind you carry over four towels to keep the girls from catching cold.

"I must say I'm impressed."

Your voice breaks through Enid's excited squeals and in a second you are surrounded by the rowing team.

"Did you see us Ms. (Y/L/N)?"

Enid says quickly and you can't help the light chuckle you let forth.

"No, I was watching the other Poe Cup across the lake."

You say with sarcasm causing an almost nonexistent smirk to cross Wednesday's face.

"You all were wonderful, what do you say I treat you all to a night of gravedigging."

Your smile was bright as three of the four grimaced at the offer.

"Sounds absolutely dreadful. Let's meet at nine."

Wednesday says trying not to sound overly excited before she walks away towards the dorm hall. Enid and the others trying to hide their disgust as they follow the girl. You let go of a content sigh before turning to make your own way back towards the school building. Your students' essays wouldn't read themselves. Well....... 

“Ms. (Y/L/N).”

Your head turned in response to the near yell of your name another head also turning in the crowd behind you.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your going out with your hall tonight need a second chaperon?”

A smile graced your features as one of the new assistant teachers spoke, you didn’t remember the woman’s name but you recognized her face as she had seemed to be bumping into you a lot recently.

“Oh I don’t need one those girls always behave with me but you are more than welcome to join in the activity it can be very invigorating.”

Your smile was returned as well as a small blush that ghosted the younger woman’s cheeks.

“I can’t wait.”

The young teacher made her way into the crowd leaving you to your thoughts as you began to walk towards the school. Lifting off the floor as you begin to walk on air you get lost within your own mind your abilities now being second nature to you. Steps end as you eventually just propel yourself forward reaching the school in seconds before lowering yourself in the middle of the quad. The walk from there to your classroom is short stepping into the dark room filled with beakers of different organs and body parts a smile graces your lips as you stare at the essays stacked on your desk. This job was a dream teaching monster anatomy coincided with your interests and it allowed you to cause a grimace on most of the students faces on a daily basis.

.......

An unpleasant feeling settled in Larissa’s stomach as she watched Ms. Kathryn Yeil become a blushing mess while speaking to you for the third day in a row. You were to naïve never found yourself pretty so you never assumed anyone else did either but Larissa saw you. The goddess she possessed and she knew your worth so it didn’t surprise her when one of the newbies took a liking to you. What did surprise her was the feeling it brought over her body. Kathryn was young much younger than Larissa pretty, smart, and she seemed to have a few things in common with you. Larissa was your polar opposite there was not a single interest you shared besides coffee and honestly that didn’t even count. So as she hears the end of your conversation your invitation and her acceptance she can’t help but feel that uncomfortable tingle of jealousy course through her as thoughts of you with anyone else fills her mind. Possessiveness takes over her body in waves and as she watches you set off towards the school a pinch of hurt hits her too, if nothing else Larissa owned you she had told you many times before and you always moaned out in agreement..... who even knows what you two have but Larissa was done tiptoeing around it. Toe of her heels digging in the ground as she set off towards the school to find you and put you in your place.

.......

 Sitting down at your desk with a content sigh you barely pick up the third essay on the six different stomachs in a giant before there's a knock on your door. Humming out a distracted ‘come in’ you don’t look up when the person on the other side of the door entered opting to continue reading the essay before you. Familiar heels click against the floor of your classroom and you ready yourself to say what needed to be said standing and dusting off your pants you raise your eyes to sharp blues. Voice nearly dying in your throat you get your courage back with a few fake coughs.

EHM   ehm   “Larissa... we need to talk.”

Your voice came out softer than you intended but you brushed it off deciding to stay strong. Larissa still somewhat scared you even after all this time and her domineering personality often made her lash out. A perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in question before her sadistic smile she only seemed to shine your way made its path across her face.

“What does my little puppy need to talk to me about hmm?”

Her words dripped with an unspoken promise. The promise of what you didn’t know and honestly weren’t sure if you wanted to find out. Eyes never leaving Larissa’s you speak.

“Larissa... I can’t... I don’t want to do this anymore. You’re a great woman and it was fun sneaking around at first but I’m tired of cat and mouse I want something real. So what ever this arrangement is that we have it stops now.”

A look of surprise and something else graced Larissa’s features before she merely chuckled and shook her head while moving into your space. 

“Oh my darling girl have I not been clear or have you been to fucked out to remember?”

Starting off sweet before ending harsh Larissa bends to say the next words in your ear.

“When I have you screaming about how your daddy’s little plaything those words are not to arouse you in the heat of passion, though they do seem to get a rise out of you.."

Larissa’s eyes sparkle with mischief as a pink hue starts at your cheeks your strong demeanor slowly starting to fade as she reminds you exactly whose in charge. 

“Those words are a decree a collar you wear around your neck that only I can see. Would you prefer I kept you on my lap so that everyone can see just how much of a slut you are for me? You want real? Lets be real you belong to me puppy; body, mind, and soul. My thing to play with, my bitch to command, you are mine and mine alone but clearly you’ve forgotten that hmm?”

The last four words are sweet even as she grips you harshly and man handles you over your desk.

“How fogged your little mind gets when daddy doesn’t abuse this pussy for a few days.”

You put up no resistance as Larissa strips your body, as much as you wanted to deny it you couldn’t hide the way your heart thumped in excitement, the way your core pulsed in anticipation your mind began to slip back and forth you felt torn, you needed to fight this you wanted something real and the only thing this situation seemed to be was real toxic but as Larissa got you naked slid a hand up your abdomen over your chest and around your throat commanding you to open your mouth and you did so without question accepting her spit happily before swallowing she only proved her words to be true. She owned you.

“There we go puppy, you always take anything daddy gives you.”

Just as the praise registers so does Larissa hand harshly smacking across your face.

“Don’t think that changes anything whore, leave me? I’m the only one that loves you silly puppy is so dumb without daddy you wouldn’t make it a day.”

You bite your lip as the sting of the rough contact tingles on your skin and the words crash through your brain.

“Roll onto your stomach bitch and show me that pretty ass of yours I think you deserve punishment.”

Your body moved quickly as venom laced words continued to fall from Larissa’s mouth.

“I’m very disappointed puppy I thought you always wanted to please daddy. Instead you want to whore yourself out."

Tears build up as your mind begins to slip further.

“You’re going to count each hit slut miss one, we start over, and you’re going to take everything I give you forget your safe word tonight puppy, daddy’s mad and nothing’s gonna stop me tonight.”

crack

You lean a bit further onto your desk as the hard slap connects but don’t miss a beat.

“1.”

smack

“2.”

creak

whimper

“3.”

crack

“4.”

snap

Tears hit the desk in front of your eyes but you barely register them.

“5.”

whack

“6.”

smack

A sob escapes your throat yet you continue.

“7.”

whip

“8.”

wham

“9.”

By now your openly sobbing but it all means nothing to you, you disappointed daddy and you have to make it right.

crack

“10.”

By nineteen your backside screamed at Larissa, red and welping but Larissa only cooed as she ran a light hand up your back.

“Such a good girl, taking your punishment so well, one more puppy just one more.”

A pathetic whimper escaped your throat at the thought but you nodded none the less bracing yourself for another harsh slap. Larissa didn’t hold back her hand connecting with your skin just as harsh as it had the last nineteen times a slight scream escaped your mouth as you crumbled forward falling completely on top of your desk the strength in your arms long gone.

“20.”

A pleased hum left Larissa as she ran a soothing hand up your back.

“Such a good puppy for daddy, you did so well, I’m so proud of you.”

Rolling you onto your back Larissa easily keeps your backside lifted off the wood before sliding her jacket between your skin and the surface. You can’t help but grimace as she lowers you, your cheeks still plenty raw from her rough treatment but your mind focuses on the white haired enchantress as she makes her way between your legs. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry daddy.”

Tears still stream down your face as you speak but Larissa ignores you spreading your legs wide in order to get a good look at you.

“Would you look at that.... it doesn’t matter how rough daddy is with you, you’ll still be a slutty mess between your legs.”

Larissa slips out of her own dress and undergarments easily, unpinning her hair before towering over you.

“I think you secretly like it when daddy’s rough with you....”

Larissa whispers to you as she begins to tease at your swollen clit causing you to gasp.

“Because you know how hard I’ll fuck you after.”

Long fingers easily slide into familiar territory as her thumb continues to play with your clit. Moaning you lift your hands to tangle in white locks.

“Daddy.

You moan out softly as you pull at Larissa willing her to be closer.

“Because you know I’ll fuck you deep and hard with my cock till I fill you with my seed.”

A loud moan slips through at the combination of Larissa’s words and fingers. The familiar tightness beginning in your stomach.

“You like that don’t you bitch, when I fuck you dumb then fill your little cunt with my babies.”

Whimpers begin as a sloshing sound starts between your legs while you respond.

“Yes daddy, I love when you fuck a baby in me, I’m gonna cum daddy, can I cum?”

Removing her fingers, Larissa stands to her full height before sucking your wetness off her digits.

“Oh sweetheart, you think you deserve to cum after the stunt you tried to pull? No puppy tonight is all about daddy, I plan to use you like a fleshlight till I cum, maybe if you behave tomorrow I’ll let you have your release.”

In that moment you see the transformation between her legs begin her vagina being replaced with a penis of her own, her warm thick tip brushing through your folds a few times before she began to push into your entrance. Moans leave your lips as your center still is recovering from the orgasm denial mere moments ago. When Larissa’s hips meet your own you almost quake with need.

“So full daddy.”

The smug look on Larissa’s face sent tingles through you as soft hands ran over your stomach that now bulged with Larissa’s presence.

“Your taking me so well puppy, feel so good inside.”

Your stomach clenches at the words squeezing Larissa and causing her to let out a pleased huff. Moving her hips slowly in and out for a moment you relish in your small adjustment period before Larissa’s left hand grips your throat, her right hand pushes on your bulge and her hips slam against yours. Your eyes rolled back as Larissa began to fuck you within an inch of your sanity, you felt every vein on her length, felt every brush of her tip against your g spot, felt every stretch at your entrance and the pleasure was to good. Tears never stopped flowing though they no longer came from pain now pleasure.

“Oh daddy.”

You moaned out voice a little scruffy from the hand around your neck. 

“Fuck this pussy daddy, yessssss, fuck.”

Your pleasure was blinding, the pressure was building and before you could even open your mouth to ask Larissa pulled out. Your whine was audible a natural response to your second denial but your body remained unmoving. Allowing Larissa to basically manhandle you onto your side, she lifts a leg allowing it to run up her body while the other was pushed out of the way. The first thing you noticed when she entered you in this position was how deep you felt her. You felt like one, her member hitting you in deep spots only she knew, grabbing your legs as leverage Larissa begins to drill you again, loud moans poured out of your mouth as your juices splashed all over Larissa’s jacket.

“Who owns you?”

“Daddy.”

The words seemed to please Larissa one of her hands leaving your leg to play with your clit as she fucked into you.

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

“Daddy.”

The word came out as a sob as your body begins to slightly shake. 

“I can’t daddy I’m gonna...”

In an instant Larissa’s warmth leaves your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Crossing your legs together Larissa slides between your wet thighs fucking them just as hard and fast as she’d fuck you its merely another minute before she pulls away from your thighs squirting on your punished backside. A whine leaves your lips as you suddenly feel the deep intrusion of Larissa's cock again.

“Such a good puppy, you took me so well.”

Larissa’s words where like a pillow as your drop takes full force, your body shaking with sobs.

“Always such a good puppy for daddy, I’m so proud of you.”

Larissa’s words continued as she wrapped her body around yours becoming the blanket you didn’t know you needed and suddenly you were the safest you’d ever been.

“I’m so sorry daddy, so sorry, I love you daddy I don’t want to upset you.”

The words struck Larissa and she was happy you couldn’t see the small blush on her face.

“And I love you puppy you are mine as much as I am yours and I don’t like to share. What we have is real.”

You ran fingers through soft locks and suddenly your heart started to beat out of your chest wrapped in the warm embrace of your lover still full and connected you felt pure bliss.

“Stop talking to Kathryn it makes me uncomfortable.”

Confusion quickly took hold of your face as you searched your mind before you responded.

“Who?”

#larissa #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #Wednesday #wednesday netflix #principal weems #bottom reader

[evillandscaper]

Okay guys I'm gonna do a breakdown of a few of my personal hcs for the main 3 of both s1 and s2!!! This includes little doodles of how I draw em differently !!!

Let's start off with Olive :3 there's a LOT under the cut.

Okay, so Olive's really active, right? To me, she's always been brains AND brawn. So since she's out in the sun all the time, she has a tan!

She's also lightly scarred in my version, if you look carefully. Those were gathered out on cases. I hc that she has a LOT of battered uniforms that Otto sews/embroids together. Also, if you squint, you can see my version has light eyebags. It's not that she doesn't sleep, she's just fed up with everyone.

Her hair is messier! She comes into work all prim and proper, but leaves it all disheveled. If it's a more tiring day, she'll run her hand through her hair. Also, red hair tie instead of black, just cause I find it cuter.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olive is half Quebecois, half Vietnamese

- Her last name is Tremblay

- Her full name is Olivia, she just shortens it

- She's terrible at English and can't write an essay to save her life, but is very good at analysis

- She eats green skittles first, and thinks the purple ones are awful

- For their halfiversary, Otto got her an olive branch shaped tie pin that she wears whenever she feels fancy

Next up: OTTO!!

The urge to change his hair was carnal in my soul. It's the Asian canon event. It happened to me, and it happened to him. Just to make things a little bit more fun for me to draw, I let his hair grow out a little bit... yknow the awkward stage after a bowl cut grows out a bit? Yeah, that.

Downturned eyes! Just so he and Olive can contrast a bit more. He's soft, she's sharp. They're silly!!!

I also make sure his mole is always at least partially visible. It's such a cool part of him, and I can't believe they cover it up most of the time in canon...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He always has his blazer undone

- He's an excellent cook, but becomes immediately incompetent once someone is watching

- He's strangely good at identifying plants, and has a habit of picking edible ones and eating them straight from the ground

- He's good at English! Not the best, but better than Olive

- His last name is Garcia

- For their halfiversary, Olive got him a cast iron pan. He doesn't use it to cook, and instead swings it at anyone who makes fun of him or Olive

Next up: OSCAR!!!

I honestly don't have much for Oscar. I love him, but don't think about him that much.

He has messier hair and is just a LOT more disheveled in general!!! Close your eyes in the bullpen at any given moment and I bet you could hear something in the lab blowing up.

He's perpetually sweaty. Damp palm guy. Maybe that's why he keeps dropping gadgets...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He's very bad at telling the time. On vacation, he'll never know what day of the week it is

- He knows how to play the otamatone surprisingly well. He can make them talk, and has conversations with one the way one would with a sock puppet

- He never knows what significant figures to use, so he ends up just ballparking everything and just not measuring in general. Maybe that's why everything in the lab is always blowing up

- He has a full denim outfit saved up for formal occasions. I'm talking denim hat, shirt, jacket, pants, shoes, all denim

- His last name is Collins

OLYMPIA NEXT!!!!

Okay so there's a lot of hearing me out you guys will need to do.

Anna Cathcart is half Chinese and half irish!!! Thus, I gave Olympia monolids to accentuate that factor. I also downturned her eyes and thinned her "lashes" to make it more obvious that I'm portraying her as wasian!

I gave her freckles and rounder glasses for the vibe. She's just a soft character to me, and I really want to make her look the part.

She's got messy hair!! It's based on the little half fringes she had in very early s2, which I thought were adorable. Her ponytail's also higher just so she looks different from Olive!!

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olympia knows floriography, and will get very hurt if you give her the wrong flowers

- Conversely, she thinks she's being really rude if she puts a tansy on someone's desk to show that she's upset and will feel bad about it all day

- She always carries a little salamander named Josh in her pocket

- She can speak Yiddish

- She has a massive storage of those flippable sequin shirts and has one for every occasion

- She put her hair into a ponytail bc of Olive (this one is courtesy of @/starboundsingularities!!!!!), but the more she found herself, the higher up she tied it

- Her last name is Carter-Ng

Next up: Otis!!!

I draw him a little sickly for no particular reason. He's just silly like that.

He's not that different from canon tbh! I have his hair in an undercut because I think it looks cool on him (plus it's easier to draw), and he has eyebags because of ... the vibe.

He has a notch taken out of his ear due to an injury! From what, he won't say .

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He listens to royalty free music unironically

- He's going through his Alan Walker phase

- He has barely legible handwriting, but can draw surprisingly well

- He types like an old man, with the "............" and everything

- His last name is Otis. His full name is Otis Otis. This one is also courtesy of @/starboundsingularities I love it so much

Last but not least: OONA!!!!!

She's really going through it.

Fun fact: Olivia Presti has curly hair!!! That means that Oona should have curly (or at least wavy) hair... but she doesn't. Which is honestly so sad.

But I can always mitigate that, so I draw her hair wavy. I guess it's more extremely frazzled than wavy, but it's the same effect in the end.

EYEBAGS. She doesn't sleep after The Incident. She also has downturned eyes, just because she gives off that vibe.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Oona is a regular customer of a local rage room

- She knows how to use a crossbow to a mildly terrifying extent

- If a flight of stairs has a railing, she'll slide down it. She almost always ends up falling

- Her last name is Silva

- She says she knows how to speak Polish, but she only knows a select few words and doesn't know what they mean. They're all curse words.

- Subsequently, Oona is banned from several Polish restaurants across the city

That's all!! They're all so silly :3

#odd squad #odd squad pbs kids #agent olive #olive odd squad #agent otto #otto odd squad #agent olympia #olympia odd squad #agent otis #otis odd squad #agent oona #oona odd squad #my art #i love them dearly i really do

[mothrocks]

So I recently caved and watched Hazbin Hotel. I like animation, musicals, and animated musicals, so I feel like I'm kind of obligated to watch this new animated musical cartoon. After watching the show, I can't help but compare it to other animated productions that have also been released within the last year, namely that of Disney's Wish. I have a lot of thoughts, so here's this essay I spent like 2.5 hours writing :D

Slight disclaimer, I do acknowledge that Wish and Hazbin Hotel have very different themes, target audiences, production methods, pipelines, all the things. As someone who just enjoys animation, I'm going to disregard this for the most part, largely because I just want to ramble about the animation industry as a whole and probably could for hours.

Hazbin Hotel features a cast of characters trying to rehabilitate the sinners of Hell to save them from dying a second (and seemingly final) death in the afterlife. I have my own thoughts on the show itself, but I generally thought it was good. You can tell there was passion behind it and that they were allowed a lot of creative freedom, rather than having to pander as much to studio higher-ups.

I'm choosing not to summarize Wish and trusting that if you've read this far, you have at least a fragment of an idea of what the movie is about (not that there is much of a memorable plot, anyways). I don't like Wish. The characters are static and flat; there's no growth or character development and we have little to no reason to root for the main character, Asha. The story overall is unmemorable. The animation is fairly lackluster and looks unfinished. Lastly, the songs, one of the most important parts of a Disney animated musical, are just bad and incohesive and don't fit whatever vibe Disney and its producers were going for. I want to add that I don't think these qualms are the fault of the creatives behind this movie, rather, the fault of Disney executives stepping in.

Compared to Wish, Hazbin Hotel has interesting and dynamic characters, a solid art and animation style, and a wonderful soundtrack. Hazbin Hotel, despite being a show about the afterlife, has life and soul to it. This isn't to say I'm a big fan of the show, I do have criticisms of my own. My question is, how does Hazbin Hotel, an animated adult cartoon practically birthed from the internet, manage to be infinitely better than Wish, a movie by fucking Walt Disney Animation Studios? The fact that Disney, the studio behind The Lion King and Beauty and the Beast (or even more recent things like Moana and Encanto), is the same studio that produced a movie as flat and lifeless as Wish is baffling to me.

My speculation as to why this show is so much better than Wish is specifically because it was cultivated from random people on the internet who were passionate about their projects opposed to a company like Disney, who made Wish just for money (and to promote their anniversary). Disney has changed from what it once was and no longer takes risks in their storytelling or animation, only pursuing whatever writing, casting, or cost-cutting decisions that will line their pockets best. As someone who grew up watching these movies so much as a kid and learning about animation and storytelling and music from them, it's so disheartening to see any creativity within this corporation be crushed. Walt Disney Animation Studio's latest animated films since 2018 (Ralph Breaks the Internet, Frozen II, Raya and the Last Dragon, Strange World, and Wish) have all been lackluster in one way or another, with Encanto being the one exception. Disney has historically had dips in the quality of it's content, but this new trend in addition to the rise of streaming platforms (and even the introduction of AI) leads me to have little to no hope for Disney's animation going forward. Passion projects such as Hazbin Hotel are what makes me have any semblance of hope for the future of animation as a whole. Seeing one of the leading animation producers dwindle to this extent and kill any creativity brought to the table is just sad.

#hazbin hotel #wish 2023 #wish disney #animation #disney #animation industry #essay

[now-that-i-saw-you]

You're Losing Me

I think Joe was exactly what Taylor needed in 2016. He was high above the all scene and she needed someone who's the furthest thing from the spotlight and the scrutiny and the drama, but she moved on, she changed and grew up and he didn't ("I knew you tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy"). It's great that he "didn't read into her melancholia" but he lacked empathy and understanding, and she was struggling and needed him to see her.

"Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light" hearing this line after knowing they looked to buy a house together. I think she often looks back at it and sees it as symbolic. They were looking to build their relaionship and now all that's left of it is a dark, abaonded room.

I noticed you can hear her hearbeat during the bridge before she sings "I can't find a pulse" sickness is a theme in the song and it's almost like a patient telling the doctor they're dying and begging them to do something and the doctor just...doesn't. For such a long time he was her doctor, he was her lifeline, he brought her back to life and now her pain is an imposition to him. She was dying and he couldn't even tell and she was begging him to do something, say something, risk something, choose something. Choose her!

It's weird saying they "predicted their breakup" with exile, but I really think they were writing about their struggles in some way. Maybe they talked about it or maybe they both knew it was happening but chose to keep quiet. He missed all her signs and was surprised and distraught that she packed her bags and immediately moved to someone who's obsessed with her.

I listened to the song and immediately put hoax on repeat and I could write a thousand essays about hoax and renegade and cardigan and exile and now You're Losing Me. I also think with Midnights she was looking back at her old relationships in an attempt to fix that one. "How long could we be a sad song 'til we're too far gone to bring back to life?"

I don't want to villanlize Joe. Taylor baiscally said he struggled with his mental health but...she was trying so hard to be a fire to keep him warm, to make herself a place when there was nowhere to stay. She gave him her best, she gave him so much empathy and he didn't return it. "I tried to be the bravest soldier, fighting in your only army" after The Great War is devastating. She put so much effort to work on her trust issues and communicate to save them but then she realised she was the only one fighting.

I don't want to villanize him, but "don't you ignore me. I'm the best thing at this party" sure does make me very mad.

"I wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people pleaser" was a punch to the gut. I want to hug her so bad. I don't want this to be used as a "gotcha" moment but I wonder if she looks at Lavender Haze a little different and if maybe she tried to convince herself she was unbothered because he wasn't willing to commit. It does seem like he has an indecisive nature, whereas she knows what she wants. Maybe she wanted people to stop talking about them marrying because it was a soft spot. You really should mind your business because you never know what someone else is going through.

She's such a mirrorball, a mastermind. All she wants is to be wanted and loved and she would do anything for the people she loves. She would've done anything for him.

#taylor swift #midnights #you're losing me

[lavendarlily]

yeah of course my first fic for @phicphight is gonna be crack

for the prompt that wasn't a prompt by @faeriekit

am i doing this right?

prompt: PR096 - No prompt, just a note; I can't guarantee I understand the format of the prompts required here.

words: 777

click here to read on ao3

jack stumbles across something troubling, but finds the light at the end of the tunnel.

Finally. He had the house to himself. Jazz was at a study group, Maddie went to test some weapons in the field, and Danny… well, all Jack knew was that Danny wasn’t home. 

Jack loved his family - so incredibly much that it was a miracle you could fit all that love into one man (even one at Jack’s size). Yet between the needs of his children and assisting his wife with her inventions, it was difficult to find a moment for himself. Believe it or not, Jack Fenton did in fact have interests and hobbies outside of ghosts. It was just hard to make time for them, and boy was that new yarn burning a hole in his crafts closet, just waiting to be used. First, there were a few techniques he wanted to research before really digging in.

He fetched the laptop from the basement, and grabbed a soda from the fridge on his way to the living room. Jack settled in, feet resting on the coffee table since Maddie wasn’t home to tell him otherwise. He opened the computer, and groaned to himself when a myriad of open tabs took over the screen.

He’d told the kids so many times! Close your tabs after using the computer! He was always afraid of accidentally closing or deleting something they needed or hadn’t saved. There was also a sense that looking through their history was an invasion of privacy, but whoever had used the computer last would have to give up that privilege. He carefully clicked through the tabs, making sure there wasn’t anything potentially important before exiting out of each one. At least his kids had been doing their homework - Shakespeare analyses, essay writing tips, and hey! They’d found a tutor through some site called ChatGPT that was helping them with their assignment. 

He was almost done, ready to dive into video tutorials on achieving the perfect cross-stitch, when he paused. Though Jack tried not to linger on a page longer than he deemed necessary, this one caught his attention. An all too familiar face stared back at him - multiple faces - arranged against a blue background. Jack squinted his eyes at the search bar, reading it aloud.

“Tum-bl-er,” he said slowly. What the hell was this? Jack was certainly concerned at the amount of Phantom propaganda on the screen, leading to an even more troubling question: Which of his kids had fallen under the ghost boy’s spell to have ended up on a hell-site like this?

He scrolled through post after post of photos taken by Amity Park locals, elaborate drawings of the ghost kid, musings of his origins and whereabouts and… oh gosh… love-life. Who were these people worshiping Phantom like this? And why was Jack still looking at it?

It was like a car crash - he couldn’t look away. However, this led him to one post that finally gave Jack a semblance of hope. 

Phic Phight.

Jack knew he was no genius, but he side-eyed the misspelling and continued to skim through the rest of it. Fighting was all he needed to hear, especially if there was a group of people who idolized Phantom like… this. The ghost kid needed to go. These people needed to be saved from his manipulation! The words “Team Human” jumped out at Jack from the text, and without needing any more convincing that this is where he needed to be, he clicked the link that led to where he could sign up. 

He skipped through all the boring information and went straight into entering his information. There were a few questions he didn’t know how to answer, but he was Jack Fenton! Anyone who was organizing against the ghost problem that plagued Amity Park knew where to find him. 

There were only a few questions left, labeled as “Prompts”. Jack wasn’t too certain what it meant, but he could only envision it as where to leave suggestions for the best ways to defeat and capture Phantom. He entered the words electrocute, net, and Fenton Bazooka. He felt a little guilty for not understanding the entire gist of what was going on, so he also left a quick note for the organizer in hopes they would be forgiving.

Jack clicked the submit button at the bottom of the page and smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to meet all these other folks interested in the well-being of their town. Team Human. It had a nice ring to it. He’d be sure to let Maddie know when she returned - who wouldn’t want the Fentons on their team?

And maybe… he could even get his boy Danny in on it too. 

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2024 #lavswordvomit