#Island Man Croissant

[ranty-ramblestein]

(captions~)

I am now forced to use the new form of posts, so I'm forced to put my photo captions in the alt text, which will block you from seeing the lower left corner of images, ugh. Tumblr why.... At least fix the images fixing in place and refusing to move first before you force the new post layout on everyone!

Anyway, starting with a letter I recieved on June 12th: Cyd sent me something silly. Considering he doesn't live near anyone, I wonder who he's seeing outside his window...?

Then I got bored on June 24th and sent Raymond a creepy letter for the heck of it, heh.

On June 26th I had sent out a bunch of letters with numbers and fruit pretending it was some lottery, since one villager (I believe Tucker?) recieved 10k Bells instead of fruit. So Del responded the next day in confusion, heh.

On July 2nd the new flowers I set out for Axel's front yard finally grew, and I think they look better. It seemed weird with red lilies right in front of the yellow bouquets behind them.

July 13th: I decided to gift Raymond some apples, then somehow managed to trap a snowball when I was in the middle of trying to destroy it, heh.

July 14th: I kind of blanked when Raymond asked for a new saying... augh.

July 15th: Then Croissant's Birthday came back around! I let Cyd host without a bunch of resetting like last year. I gave out some cupcakes, but didn't really do much playing, of course.

pic 1: jun 12th: Why are people hanging out in front of his place anyway? I rarely see people other than Cyd over there. pic 2: jun 24th: decided to send Raymond a stalker-type letter, heh. pic 3: june 27th: Del was confused by the lottery he got, heh. pic 4: july 2nd: The red lillies in front of Axel's house seemed kind of weird, since the bouquet had yellow flowers that looked better with the blue house. pic 5: jul 13th: I accidentally knocked down some apples and decided to give him all 3. pic 6: "You can eat them now if you're that hungry, ya know?" Croissant said. "I want to get the perfect photo first, though!" "...Ah, I feel that," Croissant nodded. pic 7: Unless I moved something around the snowball, I couldn't touch it anymore. Croissant wasn't allowed to kick a snowball to its doom today… pic 8: july 14th: I swear I had a better saying idea for Raym, but I blanked… pic 9: July 15th: "Oh, it's… almost everyone from the Secret Elephant Club!" Croissant exclaimed before Axel loudly shushed him. pic 10: "Tucker canceled late, so they got me to come instead," Del chuckled at the Elephant's failed plans.

#Animal Crossing #Animal Crossing: New Horizones #Island Man Croissant #Solaceon Island #Couple Interactions #Solaceon Island's Secret Elephant Club (Animal Crossing: New Horizons)

[allbeendonebefore]

the good news is i got a transit tap card and they are free

the bad news is the website is allergic to letting me register it for no reason so i guess i have to phone them or go activate it in person >:[

#i walked about 8.5 km today wow how did that happen #why do i keep doing this to myself in rainboots waaah #i also had the MOST DELICIOUS almond croissant i've had in a While #life is good and there are little treats #but i also saw So Many hostile signage that reminded me im in vic today lol #and also Island Man Fashion #hapo rambles #personal hapo

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: GETO

A/N: Suguru is a patient, kind, wonderful, completely out-of-his-mind-insane man. I just had to capture it on paper. (The Yuuta installment is up next, this one was just crawling out of me lol)

C/W: Voyeurism (the real Shibuya incident 🤭) Mature, 18+

Suguru should stop.

He really should fucking stop.

You two are friends. Innocent. Platonic. The very best of friends.

And yet, here he is. Watching a live feed of you walking through your apartment door.

Keys to the left.

Heels kicked off to the right. You’ll come back to those later.

He drapes the bath towel around his neck. Catching the last few almond water droplets from his thick, near waist length hair. He’ll be at your place later; he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was the reason you caught a cold.

And capital punishment for anyone who rouses a single strand of hair on your head.

6:38 PM. A little late today. But it’s a Wednesday and there’s a farmers market in the town square. You always stop for chocolate croissants too late on Wednesdays. The vendor leaves before you’re out of work.

There are four of them on low heat in his oven right now.

Because Suguru now knows the vendor on a first name basis. He’s paid him well over asking price to have 4 chocolate croissants (made 2 batches later than what he sells during the day) be delivered to his place every Wednesday.

Because you’re his friend.

His best friend. And he can’t stand the thought of you going a second without anything you want in this lifetime.

Oh fucking hell.

Your (his) favorite blazer is off. As is the demure mint silk button up that it was covering. Both now wistfully draped over the corner of the kitchen island. He finds the way you throw your things around haphazardly so adorable.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

Like clockwork, Suguru’s left hand drags down his sweatpants, just enough to let his overgrown, painfully hard cock free. It bounces well past his belly button, like a fresh wire spring.

And with cinematic timing, you lean over your kitchen island. In nothing but your lacy bra and snug little pencil shirt. Mindlessly catching up on your social media.

The way your plush, pouty rose lips hang slightly open. And your fucking perfect tits spill over the top of your slightly undersized bra. The lazy S curve from your petite shoulders…tapered down to your waist…back out to the swell of your hips.

“Fuck,” a king cobra hiss escapes his lips.

You’re dizzying. Utterly fucking intoxicating.

Suguru’s chest rises and falls. The pace of his hand around his cock crescendos. Almost angrily.

How could you do this to him?

You’re his best friend for fucks sake.

Precum slicks from his thick, blunt tip. Squelching around his knuckles.

Your back arches into a mini crescent moon. And Suguru might as well have swallowed a blow torch.

“Nnnhhgh fuck, g-god…so…” Sharp drags of air mix with his poorly choked down moans.

His hand grips harder. Hips now rutting up off his desk chair. Hungry. Needy. Imprecise pumps into the slick ring of his fingers. Chasing another high he so desperately wishes you could personally give.

Because the way he feels right now?

The sheer malevolence in his mind. The depravity. You trust him completely and he can’t trust himself with you at all.

Beautiful, enchanting girl.

You reduce him to a perverted, bird brained slave to his desires.

You make him want to violate you. To fuck a cock-shaped hole through the back of your skirt to your cervix.

He wants to pick you up and bounce you along all 10 inches of his length and watch himself bludgeon through to your stomach.

He wants to pin you down and use your pretty little throat as his personal cocksleeve. And watch you garble and cry and drool around his invading length while you struggle for air. And listen to the melodic sounds of you gasping and muffled around his dick when he makes you apologize.

Apologize for being so goddamn irresistible. For bringing this depraved shell of a human being out of him.

Electricity runs the length of his manhood. His breaths are jagged, tendrils of wavey hair matted to his forehead.

The sound of your ringtone slices through the static in his brain. Tethering him back out of his criminal spiral.

“H-hey, pretty.” Suguru forces his baritone to level out. Hand still stroking his length.

Your wispy, girly giggle almost finishes him instantly.

“You’ve gotta stop with the pet names, Suguru! The trail of women in your wake hate me enough as it is.”

“Ha-I c-couldn’t care less.” Talking is harder than breathing for him.

You lean up from the counter and start twirling your hair in a way that makes him want to carve out another galaxy for you. Just for you. Anything for you.

“Movie night? I’ve been wanting to—“

“Yes.” Suguru is almost embarrassed at how quickly he cut you off. Like a fucking dog.

You laugh again and stroll to your refrigerator. He knows you’re lamenting the missed croissants. And he knows you know there’s a 99.99% chance he’s already gotten them for you. Because he is silly putty for you. He crumbles to stardust in your hands.

Because he’s your best friend.

“I got them.” Suguru rasps out. Hands moving so fast up his shaft, precum surging out his tip. He’s so close. So fucking—

“God I love you.”

And he snaps. Hot, thick ropes of his cum splay everywhere. Suguru draws metallic from his bottom lip, clenching down so hard not to give himself away.

You said it so innocently. So platonically. And it shifted his entire world on its axis.

His best fucking friend.

“Love you too, I’ll be there at 8.”

PART. II

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk fanart #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto satoru #geto sama #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk suguru #stsg #stsg x reader #gojo x geto #geto fanart #geto fanfic #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #nanami smut #jjk x y/n

[angeljeonjk97]

Body Work || Bell #4

Jungkook x reader

friends to lovers

18+ (fluff, smut)

warnings: mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol

Jeon Jungkook is not the same 19-year-old boy you used to know. Fame has really matured him, in more ways than one.

“You already know how I like it baby”

A knock at the door makes your head shoot up from the ramyeon bowl you were lost in that sat on the small marble island in the middle of your small kitchen.

When you put your left eye up to the peephole, a blonde-haired, slim man and an excited Kiri stood there, beaming a huge smile, waiting for your face to appear from behind the door. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, wondering why two of your best friends are knocking on your door...you glance at the small, silver clock on the wall beside you... 9:24 pm.

You reach for the lock, turning it to open your door to the people who are standing on your doorstep looking like two frantic little, wide-eyed puppies.

"Hey?" you chuckle, confused as your eyebrows remain in the same furrowed expression, "why are you guys here?"

"Are we not allowed to visit our good friend to check on her?" Jimin acts offended.

Before you can respond, the two of them are already pushing their way past you. You sigh in defeat, clicking the door behind you as they both slide off their shoes and strip their coats from around their shoulders.

"You're both obviously not here just to see me" you chuckle, watching them both rush to hang their coats up, "you look like a pair of kids who've just been told they're going to Disneyland"

"Okay okay okay, come sit" Kiri spits out, a smile still plastered on her face, as she grabs your wrist pulling you to your sofa, Jimin following closely behind.

Once all three of you were sitting, Kiri and Jimin both facing you, sitting opposite you, Kiri takes both of your hands into hers. You stare intently at them, your face still in pure confusion.

"Guess who's back in town?" She asks almost too eagerly.

As soon as you heard those words, you already had a feeling where this conversation was about to go and who Kiri is talking about, but you give both of them the benefit of the doubt. They know that you're over that whole... situation, and don't plan on getting sucked back into it again. Your face relaxes a little, hesitant to even ask.

"Who?"

"Namjoon!" Jimin exclaims, unable to keep his excitement in any longer.

Kiri flicks her head around to Jimin, giving him a disapproving expression, not expecting him to be the one to say it.

Your expression practically falls off your face, as your stare flickers between the pair, expressionless.

Kim Namjoon is your older, kind of ex-boyfriend from two years ago. You two were never officially boyfriend and girlfriend but were dating each other and no one else. You weren't ready for a committed relationship at the time and didn't want to jump into something you weren't even sure you wanted yet. He's a lot older than you, 6 years older to be exact, very intelligent, very attractive, successful, understanding, gentle, and basically everything you'd possibly want in a man. 

You met when you had a holiday job at a cafe 15 minutes away from your apartment where you used to work with both Kiri and Jimin, who still have part-time jobs there. He was a regular there, so regular that you remembered his order off by heart in the 2 and a half months you worked there, you still remember the order even now, a medium white latte with almond milk and a warm blueberry croissant every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. 

You thought he was good-looking from the minute he walked through the glass, wooden framed, cafe door wearing a beige trench coat, black suit trousers complimented by dark brown loafers and a white button up that was hardly visible with his coat and thick plaid scarf that wrapped around his neck, and he thought the same for you. 

The attraction to each other became very obvious when you two would start talking at the desk and wouldn't realise you were holding up the line with your very flirty conversations and your co-workers would push you onto the till when they would see him come in. Eventually, on a Friday morning in early December, he asked for your phone number and everything flourished from there. He was perfect, everything you could ask for, but one day after a while of seeing each other, he just left the country, not telling you why or where to, just leaving you with an "I love you" text.

 You cried for weeks after it, even in front of Jungkook a few times, not understanding what went wrong, what you did wrong or why he didn't tell you why he was leaving. He was your first love, even though you never said it to his face, you loved him, and you know that he loved you too. You got over him and the whole thing eventually though, and don't plan on ever seeing him again. Or so you thought 

"Oh." is all you can let out, the name flashing you back into all the memories.

"He came to the cafe this morning, asking for you" Jimin declares, still with those wide ecstatic eyes, as he scans your face to read your emotions, "he misses you,"

You close your eyes, relaxing your shoulders a little, slipping your hands out of Kiri's," No. No. I told you, I'm done with all that"

"I thought you still loved him?" Kiri tilts her head slightly with a worried but confused expression.

"I told you, I'm over it"

"But y/n, he was perfect. It won't hurt to try again" Jimin shrugs, unsure as to what your response will be.

"But it will Jimin, just like last time," you get up off the sofa, about to walk to the kitchen," I'm not gonna be left behind with nothing like last time"

The other two follow closely behind, Kiri's voice projecting from behind you,

"You haven't dated since though, and I think this is a great opportunity"

"yeah you think it's a great opportunity, I don't. I don't want to see him ever again." you throw a cabinet open, pulling out a bottle of wine, along with a glass.

Kiri and Jimin stand in the doorway, looking at each other, regretting bringing him up.

"Is that all you guys came here to do? remind me of him?"

"No of course not, but he gave us his new number," a ripped-off corner of a piece of paper is pulled out of Kiri's pocket and put out in front of your face, "think about it. He misses you, a lot and wants to talk to you"

You sigh in defeat, practically ripping the piece of paper from between Kiri's fingers, seeing a flash of a set of numbers inscribed on it.

'Wow the ripped corner of a notebook really shows how much you care' You think to yourself quickly scanning the scrap piece.

Kiri spreads her arms out to wrap them around your frame, embracing you in a hug, "You don't have to, but think about it"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You play with the scrumpled-up paper in your fingers, observing the numbers written on it, contemplating everything. Lost in your own thoughts, you jump at the sudden thud on the black counter caused by a tattooed hand slamming down in front of you.

You look up, tucking the paper back into your jean pocket, "Jesus Kook. You could've just said hi or something" You smile at him, letting him know you're not being serious.

"You still would've jumped, considering how in your head you just were," Jungkook takes a seat on the stool opposite you. His bare forearms resting on the surface in front of you both, "You alright?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, thinking whether you should tell Jungkook about your kind of ex coming back or not.

It was very obvious Jungkook never liked Namjoon, despite never actually meeting him, even when you were both 'dating'. You know he'll just get annoyed, angry or throw the number away, which is probably the best thing to do but you have been genuinely considering talking to him again, and you need an unbiased opinion. At the same time though, you hate lying to JK or even being a little dishonest with him. It's not how trust is kept between you two, he can also read you really well, meaning you can never really hide your actual feelings about something or someone from him.

"Namjoon's back," You blurt out, exhaustedly, as if you hadn't slept a wink the previous night, well, because you hadn't.

Jungkook just stares at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape," Please don't tell me you're actually thinking about him right now," his head tilts to the side a little, like a puppy, his brow now slightly furrowed.

Your silence and lack of eye contact in return is enough for him to know the answer.

He throws his head back, his crown almost touching his shoulder blades, as he lets out a small groan.

"I know, I know, it's probably not the best thing for me to be thinking about right now, but-"

"No, it just isn't the best thing to be thinking about. No probably, it simply isn't. You can't be seriously thinking about talking to that asshole again after he left you for absolutely no reason." Jungkook cuts you off, a stern look now plastered over his face.

You squeeze your eyes shut in frustration but also regret, knowing that this would be his response, and you should've kept your mouth closed.

"Was that piece of paper something to do with it?"

"What piece of paper?" you reply defensively. You were hoping he didn't notice it or see you fiddling with it previously.

He gives you an expression full of disappointment and knowing, causing you to roll your eyes and give in, "It's his number new number"

"Oh, so he changed his number after leaving too? proves how much he wanted to keep in contact with you," the snarky remark doesn't phase you as you know it's just him trying to make a point to you. You hate that he's right.

"I know but Kiri said he wants to talk about it, I just want closure," you softly admit to him, a slight bit of guilt in your body language, even though you're telling the truth, and aren't actually thinking of seeing Namjoon romantically again, or even talking to him ever again after getting closure.

The doe-eyed man stares at you with a shocked expression before loudly exclaiming, "Kiri? How does Kiri know?"

You realise you fucked up again by mentioning Kiri unintentionally.

"He came by the cafe asking for me" the regret on your face grows continuously, "Please just let me think about this"

Jungkook sighs again in defeat, deciding to just trust you and your word, "Alright but if you meet with him, I'm taking you there and picking you up."

You almost go to argue with him, but know that really he's just doing this for your own safety, and because he cares about you. He knows if it goes wrong and you get upset you'll cry and run back to your place, and not come out for days, so if he's there to see you up afterwards, he knows you won't have to suffer alone. He just wants to be there for you. You know that, even though neither of you have verbally said to each other how much you care about one another, you both know that these little acts are out of care.

"What about your training though?" You query, thinking about his career before he even considered it as an obstacle 

"I'll take a rest day that day," he says it like it's nothing, giving you a little shrug. Like it won't probably take him a week to convince his trainer for a potential extra rest day.

After a few minutes of bickering back and forth, you give into Jungkook's stubbornness and his charms allowing him to come with you if you even meet Namjoon again. 

You truly have been thinking about it too much and don't actually know what you want. You're head knows that seeing him again probably isn't the best for your emotions considering it took you so long to get over him and seeing his dimples when he flashes sweet smiles at you, might just send you into a spiral again, but your emotions are basically screaming at you to get closure, and to just be in his presence again. Even though you've grown slight resentment for him, you can't bring yourself to fully hate him. Afterall, its not like you ended on bad terms, or good terms really. 

I mean getting closure won't hurt you. 

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------------------------------

a/n: A late happy holidays to everyone, but I hope you all had a really good time with whatever you celebrate. I can't wait for what 2024 has in store for us all. CANT WAIT FOR JIN AND HOBI TO BE BACK IN 2024 TOO!!!! Anyways thank you again for reading, I hope you're enjoying the series so far. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter so I hope its received positively

Taglist: @yunki-yunki-yunki @hellbornsworld @tatamicc @idkijustlovebts @00frenchfries00 @yoonbicoolest @junecat18

#bts #bts jungkook #fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x female reader #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #angst #jungkook angst #fluff #jjk #jungkook fluff #boxing #friends to lovers #jungkook smut #jimin #namjoon #bangtan

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 8.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Illness, cancer. Summary: Javi is given some unexpected and unwelcome news from his father - meanwhile you receive the phone call that you have been waiting for for your entire life. Notes: As always, we do our best to infuse some Spanish into the dialogue when our stories call for it, but neither Keri nor I are fluent by any means. If you see an error let us know, but kindness counts!

The day began, as so many do, with a knock on the door. The palace had stirred to life hours ago, bustling staff all going about their business and, breakfast served and cleared away again, appointments kept, and meetings held. Business, as they say, booms this morning at Castel del Ocaso. The only person not yet risen, it seems, is the crowned prince.

And so his day begins with a knock. A gentle one. There is no need to jar the man into reality cruelly. His valet has a tray with his breakfast so that the kitchen could move on with their duties for the day, and an urgent message from the prince's father. Which is, if one was to ask the valet, the only reason for waking the prince at what is already a late hour. When he stirs at the opening of the windows, the valet clears his throat and sets the tray down on the broad bedside table. “There is a message this morning, your Highness.” The valet tells the bleary-eyed prince quietly. “His Majesty would like to see you in his chambers after you are dressed.”

Groaning, Javi looks over at the clock, well aware that the staff knew that he was to sleep in. It’s a rare night that he is up until the early morning hours and today had been blocked out of his schedule as a recovery day. “What is going on?”

“I only know that your father has asked for you.” Sometimes the king’s staff would impart more details or relay why his Majesty needed a particular thing or requested a particular presence, but this was not one of those times. Indicating the tray laden with croissants, marmalade, yoghurt, and fresh fruit alongside a strong cortado, the prince’s valet offers an apologetic smile. “Would you prefer to take breakfast before dressing?”

“No—” Javi sits up and groans, closing his eyes again at the throbbing in his skull. “Yes.”

The man says nothing at first, but hides a private smile as he hands the prince his coffee before going to his closet to choose clothing for the day. “Was your evening enjoyable, sire?” He asks, always preferring to have the temperature - so to speak - of the royal family each day. There had been shouting from the king’s chambers this morning.

“Too much so.” Javi is desperately grateful for the coffee and he takes a sip with a sigh before reaching for his bottle of aspirin from the bedside table. He had anticipated celebrating too hard and wanted to be prepared. “I am getting too old for all night parties.”

“Then we will simply begin celebrations earlier in the day, I expect.” The prince’s birthday is always a series of extravagances, and this year had been no exception.

“Yes.” Hissing, Javi gingerly crawls out of the bed. “I will shower first.”

“Very good, your Highness.” With a nod, the valet lays out clothes for the day and is gone again, leaving the prince to ready himself to see his father.

******

It takes Javi an hour to shower, dress and make his way to his father’s quarters, frowning slightly as he knocks on the door at the raised voices inside.

“¿Quién es esto?” The king’s deep voice grumbles from inside, obviously irritable. When the doors open a moment later to admit the new arrival, the king is fairly growling and ousts the others from the room. The last to leave is the doctor, sparing a last glance at the king before excusing him to say good morning to the prince as he retreats.

“Javier.” Gruff as he can be, the bedraggling king sighs and waves his son inside. “Come in.”

“You wished to see me?” There is a tenuous relationship between the king and his only son but Javi loves the gruffer man, even if he does not always understand him.

“I wish to speak with you.” He glances at the footman standing near the door. “Alone.” As soon as his son steps inside the door is shut securely behind him and the king smothers a deeper sigh. Standing is quite painful this morning, but since lying down and sitting are, too, he does not move yet. “I sent for the doctor last week. About the pain in my stomach.” Which no one, save extremely close family members, knows about. “He came back to me with answers this morning.”

“Sí?” Javi strides closer to his father, a worried frown creasing his brow. It is not good news if his father is asking to speak to him privately. It is rare that at least his cousin Lucas is not in attendance. Fear and dread coils in his own stomach and the breakfast he had threatens to make a reappearance.

There is no other way to do this, for a man of King Miguel’s temperament, than to do as the Americans say and rip the Band-Aid off. “Javier,” he motions for his son to come closer, not wanting to have to raise his voice and be heard by someone passing in the hall of the drafty medieval palace. “It is cancer.” Which was his worst fear. His fear as a ruler and his fear as the father of a son he is not certain is ready to take his place. “It came on quickly, and spread just as fast.” He tries to hide a wince as best he can, pressing a hand over his aching side as though the disease can hear him speak of it. Laying down may not be any less painful than standing, but it does relieve a bit of pressure, so he lies down again gingerly. “They have given me a few months at most.”

“No.” Javi shakes his head and gives a nervous chuckle. His father is king. He is invincible, always seeming so large to Javi, even now. “No, they are wrong. They have to be wrong.” He blinks, fighting the tears that would be ‘unbecoming’ a future ruler.

“It is always possible for doctors to be wrong.” He would be a fool and a liar to claim otherwise, but Miguel shakes his head. “However, the pain I feel is not a lie. And we must act as though they are correct, in case they are.” He sighs again, clearing his throat to hide pain from his face. Despite the characterization of their relationship as adversarial by the European press at points in Javier’s life, Miguel truly does want the best for his son. It is why he has done what he has done. Made the arrangements that he has made. “Thirty-five is a good age for a king, Javier. Old enough to have some sense but young enough to make the people feel the invigoration of youth.”

The age-old argument of not wanting to be king doesn’t even slip out of his mouth like it normally would. He can’t. Not when his father is lying in a bed looking much older than he had just the day before. Javi realizes how much pain the older man has been hiding from the world. “Sí.” Javi nods. “You have been a good king papá, the people will miss your guidance.”

Surprised at the lack of protest from his only child, the king pats the mattress beside him, hoping for this conversation to go smoothly. He knows Javier would not choose this life if he had the option - but there is no option. Second in line to the throne is his odious nephew Lucas and if that remained his only option, he would sooner find a way to pass the throne directly to Lucas’s new wife. Gabriela may not have royal blood but at least she has a decent mind behind that lovely face. “Steps will have to be taken, mijo. I will have to abdicate. You will have your coronation. And you will also need a queen.”

Javi frowns sadly, aware that the one woman he had wanted his for queen was now married to his cousin. “You took away my queen when you allowed Lucas to marry her.” He reminds his father bitterly. The woman who he loved had just married two years prior and Lucas was always taunting him that she will be pregnant soon.

“When I told you that you could not marry Gabriela, it was not to be cruel or obtuse.” If he had ever hoped that his son could forgive him over that refusal, apparently the hope was in vain. “A bride was selected for you long ago, mijo. So that you would not have to bear the burden of choice yourself.” He looks to his son with interest, hoping this will not begin a shouting match. “It was your mamá’s dying wish that I secure your future. And it is mine that you honour the promises we have made.”

Javi swears he chokes on air. Gasping and stuttering for a moment, eyes widening in shock. “An arranged marriage?” He huffs, swearing if it were anyone but his father it would be a joke. “No. No.” He shakes his head. “My future has been set from the day I drew breath but now my choice of a wife is taken from me?”

“Choosing a queen is more complex than choosing a wife.” There is the objection Miguel anticipated, even if he must admit to being disappointed by it. “The monarchy’s survival means more than simply whose figure you like the most in an evening gown.”

“My queen.” Javi stresses. “So it should be my choice.” He shakes his head. “I have done what you asked but I want to love the person I take as my queen.”

“How do you know you will not love the girl who has been chosen?” The pain of an arrangement is not exactly unknown to the king. After all, his own match was arranged and so was his father’s. Every crowned prince in their family has had their wife chosen from eligible candidates on their behalf - it was perhaps only that Javier’s match was chosen when he was a bit younger than most.

“How do you know I will?” Javi imagines a woman steeped in tradition and molded by pomp and ceremony. Someone who is rigid, only caring about the legacy she leaves behind. “Just because you came to love mamá doesn’t mean the woman you have chosen to be queen is right for me. Or were you only thinking of the crown?” He asks bitterly.

“I was thinking of finding you a partner.” He admits, knowing that his son’s disgust with the idea will not do well if it lasts. “Someone to help you. To stand beside you and to be your support as you find your footing as king.” The tax of sitting up is too much on an injured body and the king lays his head back down again to continue speaking. “Good breeding is done differently in America, but her family is wealthy and prominent, and the photographs I have seen make her out to be quite beautiful.” When he earns a scoff in return, Miguel sighs. “There is a contract in place, Javier. It is legally binding. And— and she has already been sent for. So there is no use fighting with me about it.”

“You arranged a marriage with an American?” The surprise and wistfulness of the statement catches him off guard, even as he shuffles closer to his ailing father. Miguel Gutierrez has never claimed to understand Javi’s affection with America or American Cinema, although they have shared an affinity for Nick Cage. He reaches out and takes his father’s hand, knowing he won’t fight his papá in his last days. “I hope you have chosen well.” He murmurs softly, wondering what this woman is like. His future queen.

“Her mother was friends with your mother at university.” His son’s affection for American pop culture was something he had attributed to his late wife’s own affection that she gained at university. He never understood it for the life of him, but it made her happy to share it with their young son, so he let it pass. “She will be here tomorrow, provided that she is able to travel quickly. The flight from New York is not too tiresome.”

“Tomorrow? So soon?” Javi shakes his head, reeling from the changes that are happening so quickly. “When— when do I have to marry her?” He asks quietly.

“Before the year is out.” The terms of the agreement with the Senator over the marriage of their children was exacting, to say the least. “Seven months is ample time to know her before you walk down the aisle, Javier. But it is more time than I have. So if you wish me to be present when you wed, it must be sooner.”

Javi closes his eyes, wanting to scream and cry and refuse his father. He cannot. He cannot let down the king, the man who has intimidated him and been his idol for his entire life. “We will be married in two months.” He decides, his voice flat. Certainly not happy about the circumstances, but he wants his father at his wedding, he will already miss his mother. “We will get to know each other later.”

Again it’s surprise that crosses the king’s expression first, but a lifetime of schooling his emotions away means it is gone in the blink of an eye. “Your mother and I tried to do what we thought would be best for you,” he tells his son, seeing the frown that forms on Javier’s lips. “This is the daughter of her most precious friend.” Knowing his penchant for the creative, and trying to provide him with a happy distraction, Miguel reaches and pats his son’s arm. “Would you like to choose the suite she will stay in until the wedding?”

The pout that he hadn’t quite ever grown out of nearly comes to the surface. Instead he just nods, not really caring where the American woman who would be his queen would stay but he knows his father is trying. “I will make sure she is afforded every comfort the palace can offer her.” He tells his father, noticing how tired the old man is. “You should rest.” He urges, covering his father’s surprisingly cold hand with his warmer one.

“Not a word to the staff, mijo.” The king warns, though he does lay back again on his pillows. “Only my private secretary knows who she truly is to you. The rest of the staff are preparing for a close friend.”

“They will figure it out when we have a royal wedding in two months.” Javi snorts, reaching out to cover his father up. “Rest.” He urges softly, his heart breaking but he can’t let the king see that. “I will make sure you are not embarrassed.”

“Javier.” It will be the last thing he says in the subject for now, but he does wish to say one last thing before his son leaves the room. “Try to keep an open mind. An arranged marriage is not the worst fate in the world.”

Instead of answering him, Javi just nods, standing quickly and swallowing. “Get some rest, papá.” He murmurs softly, “I have a guest to prepare for.”

******

There is something to be said for a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, those things cannot be said for you at the moment. Curled up in the apartment you share with your brother, watching a late-night movie with a bottle of wine and a seemingly bottomless bowl of popcorn, you know you ought to be sleeping before your father’s re-election fundraiser tomorrow but you just can’t seem to quiet your mind. Today - yesterday in Mallorca - was his birthday. Another year gone by and another year closer to the impending details of the contract that has dictated your entire life.

You wonder how he celebrated. What sort of party he had, if any. If birthday cake is the same in the Balearic Islands as it is here. The internet doesn’t really have answers to these questions and you never had the courage to ask your mother for details of her lost friend’s life. You should have. But you didn’t.

The things you know about Prince Javier are finite, and you have studied them for decades. Which should be proven by the fact that you’re up late tonight watching National Treasure for the umpteenth time. When your cell phone rings halfway through the film, you mute the television and pick it up immediately. No one calls in the middle of the night unless it’s an emergency.

Private. Mallorca reads the caller ID. “Oh shit…” You murmur to yourself before sitting up straight on the couch and sliding your thumb across the screen to accept the call.

“Hello?”

Your name is spoken in a clear, Spanish accent, “Please hold for the King of the Balearic Islands, His Majesty, King Miguel.” The private secretary of the king announces him before muting the phone so she can pass it to the king.

“Uh—” Dumbstruck, you nearly spill your wine trying to set it down on the coffee table as though it were a video call or the king himself were right in front of you. He has only called you twice before - when you turned eighteen and then when you graduated college - and the last was several years ago. It sort of feels like suffocating, honestly, waiting for him to pick up the line, but you manage to breathe evenly until you hear a voice on the other end again.

“Hello?” Miguel says your name and waits for you to acknowledge him.

“Good morning, your Majesty.” Glancing at the clock, you quickly calculate it to be half past seven in Mallorca. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?”

Miguel takes a moment, composing himself after another brief flare of pain. “I hope you are doing well.” He offers. “The time has come for you to join the royal family in Mallorca. How soon can you be here if we send the jet?”

The time has come. The words seem to drown you, swallowing you up in duty and anticipation. “I will need a day to pack my things,” you tell him as politely as you can, hoping that you don’t sound as scared as you feel. The anticipation of an abrupt call like this one is why nothing in your life truly belongs to you - your apartment, your car, and all of your bills are under your father’s name so he can sell everything after you are called away to fulfill your duty. You’ll have to quit your job with no notice, but that’s a separate issue. “But one day should be sufficient.” Just one day to pack up your whole life.

“I shall have the jet sent first thing in the morning. It will be a direct flight so it should not be too long.” Miguel keeps his voice as steady as he can manage it. “My son will be informed of your impending arrival as soon as we disconnect.”

“As your Majesty sees fit.” It’s an odd thing, to speak to the man who holds an iron fist on your future, but you’ve grown up your entire life knowing that one day this would happen. To be honest you’re surprised it has taken so long.

“We will speak again soon.” Miguel promises, disconnecting the phone and then shouting for the doctor to come back into the room. The pain is worse and he needs him to manage it. There is another; more difficult conversation ahead with his son.

You exhale deeply, staring at your phone as the disconnecting line beeps and goes blank, bringing back your home screen with the background photo of the last beach that you went to with friends from college. Everyone is spread out over the blankets with picnic baskets and umbrellas while they laugh in the summer sun. It had been an amazing time – and now as you look at it you wonder if you'll ever be able to have days like that again. If your freedom, such as it ever was, has just been plucked away with one phone call. Still, despite the time, you have a call of your own to make. Opening your contacts, you select the entry for your father and stepmother's landline and hope that the ringing doesn't wake up your little sister. The preteen is a nightmare if she doesn't get enough sleep, and you don't blame her one bit.

The call is picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” The austere voice of your father comes down the line. “What is going on?” He knows you don’t call at late hours unless it is an emergency. “What do you need?”

"I need to come by the house tomorrow and pick up my trunks." Although you can feel your voice waver, you hope your father is too disoriented from being woken up to hear it. He raised you to be strong and to take on responsibility headfirst. "And I can't come to the fundraiser tomorrow." Deep breath, you remind yourself. "I've finally been summoned."

Silence fills the air between you for a good thirty seconds before the senator answers. “That is very good. It is past time.” The bedsheets rustle and he pulls the phone away from his ear to murmur to his wife. “We will draft a press release as soon as you are in Mallorca.”

"I only have one day to pack." Which means, you know yourself well enough to realize, that you'll be starting immediately. There's no way you'll be able to sleep. "So I was thinking I could drive out to Scarsdale to have breakfast with you and come home with the trunks to make sure I have enough time. Is that okay?"

Sighing, your father mentally files through his schedule. “That will be fine, I have a meeting at 9:30 though.”

"Okay. I'll be punctual." It never would have crossed your mind to be anything else. Not with the way your family operates. Scheduling is everything when your father is a senator. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I thought it was important for you to know right away."

“I appreciate the call.” Your father sighs softly and there’s another small pause. “Go on and start working on your packing list, I know you want to get organized.”

"There's a lot to do." That may be an understatement, but you're nodding as though he were standing in front of you. "I'll see you in a few hours for breakfast."

“See you then sweetheart.” The phone disconnects and your father sighs again before he climbs out of the bed. He will need to draft a press release and start working on the PR for his campaign. This announcement couldn’t come at a better time for him, and he intends to use it to his advantage. Perhaps it might even put him in the running for President.

******

It took every second of the time that you had to get things ready to leave even with your brother’s help, but in the end you drove to the private airstrip at JFK airport with an SUV full of your things and left behind an apartment that barely had a single trace of you left in it. What little you have left behind would be kept by your brother, sold, or saved for your half-sister depending on what you father saw fit.

The crew of the jet was very kind in loading your things on board and seemed to expect you to have much more, but you had kept things contained for exactly this purpose. At any point in your life you would be expected to pick up and move your entire existence across an ocean, so you had kept things contained.

The eight-hour flight would put you in Palma, Mallorca in time for dinner and you know that between not sleeping for the last two days and the jet lag, you'll desperately need to sleep on the jet. Hopefully you won't be too anxious to sleep. That would just make things that much worse.

******

“I am meeting her at the airport.” Javi isn’t shouting, but his voice has pitched up to match the same inflection as his father. Met with resistance when he announced that he would take the boat over to the private air strip to meet the woman who is to become his bride without the fan fair or pomp and circumstance that normally surrounds these affairs. “You wanted to keep people from knowing, it will be suspicious if I am in my formal royal uniform.”

"Why can you not let someone from staff fetch her and meet her properly here?" Miguel is exasperated beyond measure, having had both of his suggestions met with rejection from his son. Javier refuses to be in uniform to meet his intended and he refuses to receive the girl in the throne room. He insists on dressing down in a veritable disguise and going to the airport quietly himself. "I understand that you wish to meet her quickly and I commend that, but your position matters, Javier."

“Of course my position matters.” Javi huffs. “That is all that matters. But I am meeting her casually. I want to know what she thinks of this, of me, without any pretense or need for propriety.” He’s worried that you might be dreading this, resenting him once he had learned of the details of this arrangement. He would like to know if he is to be sentenced to a life of passive aggressive comments and resentment.

The king purses his lips, seeing from the clock on his bedside that time is running short to make this decision. "Fine." He concedes shortly. "But take enough staff with you to have her things brought to the palace separately. If you wish to have a conversation with her then you can bring her back to the palace and show her her rooms properly dressed. If not in uniform, then at least not looking like you've just come out of the pool." Clearly indicating he means that he disapproves of what his son is currently wearing, Miguel nods and sits up a little more in his bed. "Something that would be appropriate to wear at the dinner table, since you will be escorting her directly after showing her to her new home."

Javi sighs and nods. “I will even wear a sports jacket, your majesty.” He huffs sarcastically, annoyed that even meeting you is turning into an argument. He doesn’t want to be so stiff and formal all the time. Royals need to relax as well.

"Good." Glancing at the clock again, the king waves him off. "Go and change, then. You should be on your way."

Rolling his eyes again, Javi turns around and stalks out of his father’s bedchamber. Annoyed with himself and the king. Why must their relationship be so strained? Why is he so different from the man who had sired him? He wonders what this woman will think of him, already deciding he’s going to dress causally chic for the meeting.

******

The chance to wash and change and touch up your makeup on the flight after waking up from a six-hour nap was something you hadn’t expected and are grateful for. The simple but well-tailored white sundress you had chosen to make your first impression on the prince could be put on just thirty minutes before landing instead of being thrown on in the airport bathroom so that it wouldn’t wrinkle after hours on the plane. Everyone on board was so kind and so formal that you have to wonder if any of them knew who you were or if that was simply how they were trained. Either way, when you exit the jet’s cabin to come down the stairs with your travel bag in hand, there is just one person waiting for you. In a powder blue sport coat and linen shirt with perfectly tousled hair, he looks like he ought to be a model and not - you assume - palace staff. Sunglasses shield his eyes but he stands straight and watches you expectantly, suddenly making you question if you even know how to walk down stairs at all.

You are…beautiful. He expected his parents to have chosen someone with all the right characteristics and the right schooling, but the sheer force of your beauty nearly takes his breath away. His father will approve of your outfit, the white dress both prim and proper enough to be considered appropriate and yet Javi likes that you are showing some skin. The length of your arms on display and the legs both making him smile at the idea that maybe you are not as stuffy as he might have feared. “Welcome to las Islas Baleares.” He offers as you stride close. The staff rush to get your luggage and he gestures towards the boat swaying gracefully at the dock. “We have a short boat ride to the palace.”

“Muchas gracias.” As hard as you’re trying not to smile, this man that has been sent to receive you is incredibly handsome. His hair and stature remind you of the very few pictures you’ve seen of the prince, and you wonder if perhaps this man is a cousin. Some lower-level royal sent to be a one-man welcoming committee. “Everyone has been so very kind. I’m grateful to have such a personal welcome.”

He cannot tell if you are being sarcastic or not, figuring that you have recognized him. “Sí.” He simply nods his head and gestures for you to precede him. He will need to help you into the boat and then cast off the lines, preferring to operate the speeder himself.

The man’s silence is surprising but you try not to read into it too much as he walks you to a nearby ramp that leads down to a small boat dock with an elegant speeder moored at the tip. The crystal-clear ocean spreads out around you like its own kind of welcoming and you smile. “The evenings are very beautiful here.” Weather. Weather is safe small talk. “Are the days just as gorgeous?”

“Better.” Javi promises, holding out his hand when you stop next to the boat so he can assist you inside. “Not too hot, not too cold, just right.” He smirks slightly, remembering the childhood story about porridge.

“I have to admit, I won’t miss winter.” Putting your hand in his to accept help into the boat gives you a nearly electric shock that you beg your body to ignore. There is no room to be attracted to anyone but Prince Javier. It’s impossible, you remind yourself harshly.

Javi ignores how warm and soft your hands are, quickly bending down to untie the boat before jumping in beside you. Occupying himself with starting the engines and pulling away from the dock, he knows the staff will ferry your luggage over on the other tender. For now, he wants the race the boat over the waters to calm down his own rattled nerves.

His continued silence signals that the weather isn’t worth talking about, and you fall into an uneasy quiet as the boat speeds out into open water. You have about three million questions but know that you can’t ask them of just anyone. It wouldn’t be proper or ladylike to ramble on, and from the moment you stepped onto that jet at JFK you have done your utmost to be perfectly ladylike. Without knowing who knows what or what is truly expected of you beyond marrying a total stranger to produce royal heirs, you feel like the water might be in your lungs instead of under the boat. Your palms are sweaty and you twist the decorative ring on your finger nervously. At least it’s beautiful here - it would have been cruel if you had to spend the rest of your life someplace frozen when you notoriously dislike snow.

He looks back at you a few times, gauging if you like the water. Finding you looking pensive so he doesn’t speak. Not wanting to make you even more nervous if you aren’t impressed with his boating skills. Or him. Instead he throttles down as the palace comes into view, aware that everyone, even him, likes to take in the majestic site of the Balearic Islands seat of power.

When you first take in the sight of the palace standing high on the cliffside, you gasp audibly before you can stop yourself or muffle the sound. It’s truly remarkable - this medieval edifice that has survived through hundreds of years and countless occupants, and you can’t help but stare. No photograph could ever do it justice, and you’ve seen every single photograph. That is where you live now. That’s home. Unless you fuck up spectacularly and he sends you away in disgrace. Oh god. Don’t fuck up like that. “It’s…amazing,” you murmur, realizing that your escort has turned to see your reaction.

“Castel de Ocaso. The royal palace of Mallorca.” Javi announces. “Home of King Miguel Gutierrez and the crowned Prince Javier. Soon to be king along with you, his queen.” He offers before he throttles up slightly to guide the boat into the Royal docks.

“Soon to be?” You startle at that news, feeling your eyes go wide behind your sunglasses. The king had certainly failed to mention that when he called. “I—I did not think…You know who I am?”

Javi laughs for a moment but then he stops, realizing that you don’t know who he is. “Sí.” He nods, turning back around to ease the boat alongside the stone dock. “I know who you are.”

“Forgive me, I just…” It’s like your mouth has run dry and your head is spinning, except you know it’s only nerves. “I was under the impression it was not common knowledge. That only the king and Prince Javier knew.”

He hums, cutting the engine and letting the boat float up next to the dock expertly. Moving to toss the lines to the staff waiting on the pier to tie off. “Come.” He offers, stepping up off the boat and holding his hand down to you. “The king is waiting.”

“May I ask you about him?” Those innumerable questions are all bubbling to the surface as he helps you out of the boat, and you now feel even more sure that his must be a trusted family member that was sent to fetch you. “The prince, I mean?”

“What do you wish to know?” He asks, raising a brow in interest. Curious to know what questions burn in your mind about him.

“Is he a kind man?” You’ve seen official photos and been told what he likes – practically every birthday gift that you’ve ever received from King Miguel was something that Javier liked – but the question of his temperament is completely unknown to you.

“I would say so.” He offers, wanting you to open up more. “Shall we go up to the palace?”

“Thank you.” You nod politely and try to ignore the tingling in your skin at the small touch of hands. Once you’re up the stone steps built in to the cliffside, you look up at the palace again and remind yourself to smile. “Is the prince…” The curiosity is overwhelming. “Is he…shy? Outgoing? Is he a very social man?”

“Ask the questions you really want to ask.” Javi urges you, knowing that there are only a few more moments before propriety will be deemed necessary.

“It’s just…” This man is offering you just enough of a lingering lifeline that your curiosity just can’t say no to it. “It’s just that I’ve never seen photographs of him with friends o-or girlfriends.” You swallow. Hard. “Or boyfriends. And I just…I wondered if…if he…prefers women?” That might be one of the things that terrifies you most. The idea that this marriage was arranged to force him to be with a woman when he’s actually gay.

Javi chuckles. “Women.” He promises. “There is much emphasis on not causing a scandal for the crown.”

“I understand that entirely.” There was plenty of emphasis on that for you growing up as well. “Forgive me if that’s too personal. I just would never want to make him uncomfortable.” An awkward laugh passes your lips and you shrug slightly. “Hopefully just the fact of me doesn’t make him uncomfortable.”

“You care about the Prince’s comfort?” That surprises him, and it’s rather sweet. It is rare that someone cares about someone they’ve never met before, not even someone who was going to marry. You are guaranteed a crown, why would you care about the man placing it on your head?

"Of course." The idea that you wouldn't is fairly shocking to you, if you're honest. "Everyone deserves to be happy, don't they? Especially with the people closest to them. I mean...this arrangement...it's not something either of us chose. What good would it do for us to hate each other?"

“And you?” Javi turns to face you. “You would choose another without a crown? A woman?” The idea that you might be repulsed by men is one that flashes in his mind and it would be a miserably cold marriage if that were the case.

"No." The idea of having a choice is almost incomprehensible if you're honest, but you can only shake your head now. It's not as though you weren't allowed to date, it was just that no one you ever went out with was ever going to last. And if you had been found out to have slept with any of them, your father probably would have disowned you. "I mean I'm interested in men and from all the photos I've seen of the prince he's very attractive, I just...this arrangement was made on our behalf. And I would hate to think that he is dreading my arrival when I'm actually excited to finally meet him." Excited and terrified, but the terror will be kept private. This man does not need to know about your anxiety or your fear.

“Excited?” He tilts his head curiously and smirks. “Why are you excited? You are not worried? I would be.”

"Excitement and worry are two sides of the same coin." That's honest, at least, and very true. You're definitely both. "It's hard to be excited to meet the person you're supposed to spend your life with without also being at least a little worried about disappointing them. That...I guess that's why I'm so curious about him."

“No other questions?” He asks playfully. “Nothing at all?”

"I wouldn't want to be inappropriate." For all you know, you've already overstepped and offended this man or even the prince by accident by asking anything at all.

Javi snorts and shakes his head. “Of course.” He murmurs, slightly disappointed by the way you seemingly cling to propriety.

"It's just...there are personal things that I would prefer to ask him in privacy." Probably your imagination, is what it is, but when he pouts slightly you have the almost unhinged urge to hug him. "I'm so sorry. I never even asked your name and here I am asking questions about someone else entirely."

Javi had turned away, prepared to climb the stairs carved into the cliff to enter the palace but you give him the opening that he wants. Turning around, he pulls off his sunglasses and gives you a small smile. “I am Javi.”

"Oh shit." The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them and your eyes widen even more, with your entire body burning in embarrassment. Dropping down into possibly the least elegant curtsy of all time, you thankfully manage not to fall over but secretly wish you'd just topple right back over the edge of the cliff behind you. "I—I mean...I'm sorry, your Highness. I...apparently didn't recognize you." And went and made an idiot out of yourself in the process. Fucking hell...

“Obviously.” He smothers the grin and returns your curtsy with a formal bow and looks back up at you. “Now, what questions may I answer for you? Anything at all, since we are to be married.”

"How long have you known about me?" It slips out of you before you can think of anything more articulate or more interesting to ask not that you're standing face to face with him. At least you have the presence of mind to take off your own sunglasses and tuck them away in your bag.

“Two days.” Javi frowns, shaking his head slightly. “My father decided that I would learn of you the day he sent for you so I apologize that I do not know more than you are American and your name.”

"Two days?" It makes your heart sink in a way that you hadn't expected, and you can feel your shoulders roll in on themselves slightly before you push them back again. Ladies don't slouch says your father's voice in your head. "I've known about you almost my entire life."

“And you are…disappointed?” He asks softly. His entire life he had been compared to his father and been found wanting, why would the woman he was supposed to marry think any better of him?

"What? No!" When you look up again he's frowning so deeply that you have that overwhelming urge again to just wrap your arms around him and squeeze. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately for propriety - you're frozen on the spot. "I just can't believe that your father didn't tell you. Our parents made the arrangement when I was so little that I've just...always known this would happen one day."

“My father- it’s complicated.” He sighs softly, slightly relieved that you aren’t disappointed. “I am sorry, I meant to just meet you casually, not mislead you as to who I was. It was very nice to realize you didn’t recognize me.”

"I thought you might have been your own cousin or something," you admit sheepishly, instantly wishing you hadn't said anything at all. "You have...very nice hair. I thought it might be a family trait."

“You like my hair?” Javi’s eyes widen slightly and he almost reaches up. “I like that you are wearing a dress that is not stuffy.” He admits.

"It's one of my favourites." That's why you chose it, really. To really look and feel like yourself the first time you met him. "You like it? I—I have more like it."

He nods. “It’s very nice. Perfect for an evening in Mallorca.”

"Is there anything you want to know about me?" Since he hasn't known about you for long, that means that anything about you that might have been communicated between your fathers is probably unknown to him.

“Endless questions.” Javi admits with a grin. “But the king is waiting for your arrival.” He bites his lip and decides to be honest. “My father is sick. So he will only meet with you for a few minutes.”

"I'm so sorry to hear that." The unconscious step you take toward him is like the pull of a magnet. "That's why you said soon to be king when we met, isn't it?"

“We – my father is stepping down.” Javi confesses. “And we will be married in two months’ time. I want— he needs—” Javi swallows, unable to speak the words that his father needed it to be quick. “He has few months left.”

"I see." Vivid flashes of your own mother's funeral burst in your mind but you swallow and reach out to touch his arm gently. "If two months is too long for him, just name the day." This is a commitment that you've been preparing yourself for, for your whole life. If it happens fast, then it happens fast.

“We will discuss it with him.” Javi is grateful that you understand and he covers your hand with his for a brief moment.

This time when his touch makes your skin prick, you accept it wholeheartedly. It's a giddiness in the pit of your stomach that feels a bit shallow but at the same time you can't help but be grateful for. He's incredibly attractive in person, now that you see his whole face, and you fluster a little as the two of you turn to continue walking to the palace together. "So...do you prefer to be called Javi?" You ask after a moment, remembering that he hadn't used his full name when he revealed himself to you.

“I do, Javier is too formal.” He makes a face before he frowns. “My father feels as if I am too relaxed for the throne, that I need to be more rigid, but I do not think it must be so serious all the time.”

"It's good to have someone that you can let down your guard with." That frown makes him look a bit like a sweet, discontented puppy, but at the same time you can't help hoping that you don't see it too often. "I hope that...in time...you might feel that you can be yourself with me."

“You have known about me your entire life?” He asks curiously. “And you agreed to marry a stranger?” There’s no judgement, but he finds it odd that someone so beautiful would agree to this.

"I think we must be a few years apart in age." It seems odd to tell him that you know his exact birthday and secretly always have a little cupcake that day in his honor. "You were a preteen when our parents made the contract. I was in pre-school." The slight shrug you offer says that it doesn't bother you anymore. It is simply a fact. "So I grew up knowing that one day - any day - I might get a phone call to come here and marry you."

“You have never…wanted more?” He asks, wishing that you weren’t so close to the doors. “For yourself?”

"More?" More than being royalty? That would make you about the most demanding and highest reaching person in the world, you think. Certainly it would be a rather extreme expectation. "More than what? I mean, I liked my job and all, but I tend to think I could do a lot more good here than just being an organizer for a non-profit back in New York." Or did he mean more than him? That actually makes you frown instead. "If you mean...personally? All I want is someone who loves me. And if that can't be you...well, you'll be king soon. You can make whatever decision you want."

“There— there is no divorce for the royal family.” Javi reveals, relieved, that it’s not the crown that you wished for, but love. “Once we are married, that’s it.” He might not agree with arranged marriages but he respected the crown and tradition enough that he would not make a mockery of it.

This particular fact has never been related to you so cleanly, but always sort of hinted at. And now that you’re hearing it directly from him, it seems almost foreboding. Like he is trying to see if you can be warned off. “The only expectation I have had for my life is to come here to marry you,” you tell him, fingers twisting around each other nervously. “I am prepared to do it. But if you decide that you don’t like me for some reason…” The possibility is surprisingly devastating to you, now that you’ve met him and feel strings of actual attraction for the man. He seems genuinely sweet. And is incredibly handsome. “If you decide you do not like me, then it is up to you what happens afterward. But I hope that that is not something we will have to think about.”

Javi shakes his head, no longer as resistant to the idea now that he had seen you in person. “My father has assured me that the contract is binding and it would be dishonorable for me to back out of this.” He gives you a nervous smile. “I just— I hope that I do not disappoint you. Our monarchy isn’t like England’s. We are the government and our people are very much our interest. We are small on the world stage.”

“That sounds vastly preferable, if I’m honest.” You’ve lingered outside one of the many palace doors for a few minutes now, and though you’re still nervous it’s slightly different than when you first arrived. “I hope that we can at least be friends? I would hate to be a disappointment to you, either. And I know that you did not ask for this.”

“We will have more time to get to know one another very well.” Javi acknowledges, opening the door for you to enter the palace. “Welcome home, Princess.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javi Gutierrez #Javi Gutierrez x you #Javi Gutierrez x reader #Javi Gutierrez x female reader #Javi Gutierrez x f!reader #royalty au #arranged marriage #tw cancer

[marshmallow-rainbow139]

Things Anne Wayne has said to the Justice League

“Honey, why does everyone think you’re vampire?”

“Clark, could you be a dear and fly to the roof and get Dick’s ball?”

“Diana, could you bring me to your home island? I need a vacation from the boys.”

“Barry, I will give you a hundred bucks if you get me a croissant from a bakery in Paris!”

“So, where are you from? Is that place on earth or another planet?”

“Please, Mrs. Batman is my mother-in-law!”

“J'onn, if you can’t handle the heat, you can come to the batcave; it’s the most freezing place on earth after the north and south poles!”

“Ollie, what do you do with your arrow after battles? Do you go pick them up, or do you just leave them there?”

“You met Alexander the Great? Can you help my son with his history homework? He has been having trouble with it.”

“How do you keep your wings warm during the winter?”

“Clark, I assure you these are glow-in-the-dark rocks, not actual krypotanite.”

“Your archenemisis seems interesting. My husband’s archenemy is a clown!”

“Bruce, you’re not bringing that to the batcave!”

“Gosh, I wish I could post a picture of space on Instagram! This view is magnificent!”

“You know, being able to fly or run fast seems good for the environment!”

“Yes, I can help you court a female human!”

“Constatine is a bottom! He dated King Shark! Ain’t no way he’s a top!”

“How many times has Earth been invaded? What’s so special about us?”

“So, Zatana, the house of mystery is like Howl’s Moving Castle?”

“Did the chair just speak? Am I sitting on Plastic Man?”

“Hey, Captain Marvel! Can you charge my phone? I forgot the charger on earth!”

“I would make a comment about the teenage sidekick, but that would make me a hypocrite.”

“No, Barry, Bruce is not a vampire.”

#batman #batmom #Anne Wayne #bruce wayne x oc

[seospicybin]

ONE OF A KIND.

Felix x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: When you live in a small island there’s nothing more exciting than meet a new man in town, Felix. It’s getting more peculiarly nostalgic as if you feel like you’ve known him for years. (12,7k words)

Author's note: Last one of my One series and I'm sorry?

Out of all the days in the week, your favorite is Friday.

Not because you're working a 9 to 5 job and the next day after that is the weekend.

You like Friday because you like how everyone seems to be more relaxed on that particular day. It's a day you choose to do everything you wanted to do.

You wake up to the sound of the waves crashing from afar and the sound of the wind-chime you hang in your window, you look out to see the glimmering surface of the sea blinding you.

As the smell of the ocean fills your nostrils, you can tell that it is going to be a good day.

The warm shower washes your sleep away and you pick your favorite summer dress from the closet. Blue like the sky with tiny white roses dotted the fabric and it fits you perfectly.

It's always sunny on this island, it's so small that you can go anywhere with your bike and you know it like the back of your hand, but that's why you like it.

It feels like your small private island.

The first thing to do is visit your sister's bakery for breakfast.

Your choice will always be the cinnamon roll and just from the smell alone, already make you salivate. But what makes cinnamon rolls taste so good and leave you wanting more is the sweetness of the glaze which is made from cream cheese, confectioners' sugar, warm butter, and vanilla extract with a hint of salt.

It's sweet and savory, the perfect treat to start your day with.

"Coffee?" Your sister offers.

"I'll get it myself," you say, going behind the counter to prepare a cup of coffee for yourself.

"Be careful, it's hot!" Your sister warns like she already knew you're about to touch the wrong side of the coffee pot.

You chuckle at the sheer luck, "thank you!"

Carefully, you pour the hot coffee into your cup and before you can get it to the table, a customer enters the place and walks up to the counter to order.

Your sister is in the back kitchen, probably getting a fresh batch of bakery out of the oven. It's not a loss to help her even though it's your day off.

He smiles as soon as you face him, a kind smile, not a flirty one, but one that you rarely get especially in the morning when people haven't gotten caffeine in their system yet.

"Good morning!"

"Morning!" He greets back without looking at you.

"Can I help you?"

He looks at you for a few more seconds as if to wait for you to offer something else than coffee or bread.

After a moment, he finally comes up with an order, "I'd like a cup of latte."

It surprises you how his voice doesn't sound like it belongs to him. It's deep and low, in contrast to his pretty features and slim figure.

"One latte!" You repeat and add it to the till machine.

He saunters to the display counter filled with all kinds of bakery goods and a selection of cakes.

"And... one pain au chocolat," he adds.

A chuckle escapes your mouth.

"Something funny?" He asks with a confused smile.

You feel bad for the way you behaved, making it seems like you make fun of him, "I'm sorry, it's just that people usually called it a chocolate croissant," you explain with an apologetic smile.

"It's the first time someone addressed it by its French name, huh?"

"I'm sorry. I feel bad for laughing," you apologize again with your head down, can't look him in the eyes.

"That's alright," he assures you.

"Anything else?"

"That's it!" He says.

You calculate everything and inform him how much he should pay, take the money and hurriedly hand him the change.

He waits by the end of the counter for his order and you make sure that you get it right, you don't need another embarrassing moment to share with him.

You slide the tray with his order to him, "Enjoy!" You keep it short then run to the back with your coffee and cinnamon rolls.

You're planning on spending the morning drawing a thing or two before you start cycling around the island.

"May I sit here?" Someone asks.

You glance to see the man who spoke little French earlier with his coffee cup in hand.

You consider it for a little while but he doesn't seem like the type to chat a lot, you shrug and gesture for him to sit.

"Thank you," he mutters with another gentle smile and sits across from you.

With the morning sunlight shining through the window, you can see the freckles on his face, like God sprinkled the stars on his face.

He pulls out a book from his bag, you can't see the title since he puts the book down on the table, reading it quietly with his eyes and the beautiful eyelashes that rest along his eyelids.

That makes your head wander off without you intending to. You remind yourself to hurry up and take out your journal from your bag. Nothing makes you feel more excited than a new, clean page.

You look around for anything to draw and see magpies perching on the tree across the street.

In the middle of it though you wonder why your journal seems so empty despite you feeling like you have drawn a lot of things in it.

You take a bite of your cinnamon rolls and a sip of your coffee after.

"You like drawing?" He suddenly asks.

You are too busy drawing and didn't notice he has been watching you. It's too late to hide it now, you decide to let the journal open, then answer him, "yes."

"I like that one," he points to the drawing on the previous page.

You smile and look at it, "it's a drawing of the sunset on the hill."

"The hill?"

You nod, "have you been there?"

"No," he shortly answers.

You take a look at him again and get this feeling that he feels so oddly familiar but you swear you have never seen him before.

"Have we met before?" You dared yourself to ask.

He pauses for a moment and closes his book, "No, I'm new in town."

He puts his book into his bag, "why?"

You awkwardly chuckle and rub your chin nervously, "I don't know why but I feel like I have seen you before."

"Ah!" He nods, "maybe you have seen me around before."

"Maybe," you vaguely answer but that's plausible since it's a small town anyway. You decide to pick up your pencil and continue drawing.

"How long have you been living here?" He asks out of the blue.

"All my life," you answer.

"That means you know everything about this island?"

"I guess I can confidently say yes to that," you answer with a polite smile.

He sips his drink, "Actually, I haven't gone around much," he says.

He leans forward on the table, "I wonder if you can show me around?"

You snort in response.

And just like he knows you thought he was joking he quickly adds, "I'll pay for the service, of course!"

He is serious and he's willing to pay you just to be his tour guide for the day. You make a quick observation and assess it in your head, that he seems smart, polite, and warm, as warm as the morning sun feels on your skin that morning.

There's no harm in taking a sudden job offer, consider this killing two birds with one stone even though you're not that keen on killing animals for that matter.

"Why me?"

He shrugs, "because you are a true local, there's no one who knows this town better than a local," he eloquently answers with that kind smile.

You call it a kind smile because there's no hint of malice in it, just pure kindness like he was born into the world with a smile like an angel.

He's a decent man with no intentions to harm you, that kind smile assures you that.

You chuckle at his remark, "then you should hire the chief, not me."

"I've seen the chief, he's not my type," he jokes with a low laugh.

"And I am your type?" You joke back.

"A beautiful girl like you is my type," he innocently answers like he's prepared that answer beforehand.

You laugh at how straightforward he is and that is enough proof that he's not from this town.

"I can show you a few places," you say while calculating how many places can you visit in one day.

"A few places is enough," he says.

You close your journal and put your pencil back into its case, "can you ride a bicycle?"

He props a hand under his chin, "as far as I remember, yes," he answers.

After telling him that the two of you will be riding the bicycle, you're going to the back of the shop to borrow your sister's bike to lend to the new guy in town.

It comes to your realization that you haven't introduced yourself to him, you bring the bike to him, then introduced yourself.

He holds his hand out at you with that sweet smile on his face, "I'm Felix," he introduces himself.

The moment your hand touches his, you get a funny feeling that resembles something like reuniting with an old friend. You clearly mistake it and decide to laugh it off.

"Get ready!" You quickly hold the handlebars of your bike.

"So, what is our first destination?" He asks, following you and walking the bike to the front of the bakery.

You get on your bike and look over your shoulder at him "we're going to see the stars," you answer with a sly smile.

"Stars? But it's only 9 am!" He says, perplexed.

You ride your bike at a much slower pace since you're guiding someone for a trip around the town and the first destination is close enough that there's no need to rush.

"The observatory?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You nod and parked your bike on the available spot, then help him with his.

The head of security of this place is a regular at the bakery, you know his order by heart, half a dozen of glazed donuts and a cup of coffee with two sugars and cream.

He always reminds you to come to the observatory and you're more than happy to come here every day but let's not be inconsiderate because this man works there and you may get him in trouble.

"Don't get your hopes up, we're not going to the observatory," you tell him as he follows you to enter a building.

"But we're going to the planetarium," you add before he gets disappointed, pointing to the other building in the vicinity.

Someone stops you from entering the place with your hand already holding the handle of the door, "I'm sorry miss, but the planetarium only opens to the public on the weekends," he says.

If you haven't seen him before that means he's probably new security. You softly laugh and calmly explain, "I understand that you don't know me but can you tell Mr. Park that it's me coming to the planetarium?"

He stands between you and the door to the planetarium, "I'm sorry, miss, I can't allow you," he persists.

You glance at Felix and it's obvious that you're not the only one uncomfortable about this. It's your first destination and it's already getting embarrassing that you feel like wanting to shrink into a microscopic size.

"Can you at least try and call Mr. Park first, please?" You plead one more time.

"There's no one named Mr. Park in here," the new security says.

You scoff in disbelief, "he's the head of security here," you almost snap but remind yourself to keep calm. It was only yesterday that you packed him a half dozen of donuts and a coffee to go.

Felix has a right to be confused by this but he looks just as upset as you, he steps into the matter and says, "I think we can surely make a phone call to confirm."

He then takes the security aside and you can't hear what they're talking about because they're out of your earshot.

After a moment, they're walking back to you and the security pushes the door open.

"Not more than an hour," he warns as he lets the two of you inside.

Felix grabs your hand leading you inside. Even though the matter is solved, you can't stop feeling embarrassed because of it.

"So, what are we going to do here?" He asks.

You keep looking down at your feet, suddenly feel stupid for taking him here just because you know someone from the inside, "I don't know why I'm taking you here," you meekly say.

"Well, it must be because you find this place interesting," Felix says.

For someone who has just met you roughly an hour ago, he puts his faith so much in you. You don't know whether he's overly chivalrous or you should be suspicious of him.

"It's a bad idea to take you here," you sigh, regretting your choice for taking him here of all places you know on the island.

He gently grabs your elbow and says, "come on, we don't have much time!"

That makes you realize you've been wasting time contemplating your choice. Since you're already inside anyway, there's no use to fret.

You start walking and showing him around with both of your footsteps echoing in the empty planetarium.

You skip right to the place you wanted to show him, to the dome where there's a projection of stars on the dome. Mr. Park has shown you how to turn the projection on, you're not forgetting to turn the lights off before joining Felix in the center of the room.

"We're going to be standing here?" He awkwardly asks.

You shake your head and pull him by the hand to sit down next to you.

"Oh okay, we're sitting," he says as he gets comfortable sitting on the floor

But then you lay down on the floor and Felix follows suit, slowly laying his body next to you. In a second, the ceiling of the dome is filled with countless stars and they're the closest he has ever seen yet they're still out of his reach.

"What's your star sign?" You ask.

"Virgo."

You scan the projection to find his constellation and look between the Leo and Libra constellations.

"There!" You point to the constellation that forms a lazy Y shape.

He looks to where you point at the ceiling of the dome and gasps, "oh, that one?"

"It's the second largest constellation in the sky," you explain.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims in awe and sounds truthfully fascinated by it.

You turn to look at him to know if he's enjoying this little amusement that is personal to you because you never show it to anyone else before.

Notices that you're looking at him, he turns his head and smiles at you.

"Beautiful!" He softly says.

And you can say the same thing about the constellations his freckles made on his cheeks.

You look away thinking you'll weird him out if you look at him for long, "yeah, it's beautiful."

With the absence of lights, the stars look more vivid and the dark that surrounded the two of you, makes it feels like the two of you floating in outer space.

Just the two of you.

-

The sun is shining so brightly but the winds are a bit cold for a summer day.

You're not complaining though because it helps you not to sweat a lot, it feels refreshing that the wind slips through your hair as you keep pedaling your bike.

Once in a while, you look over your shoulder to make sure you don't go too fast and leave Felix behind.

"You're supposed to take me to a gift shop at the end of the tour," Felix says but doesn't look like he's complaining at all.

You chuckle, "It's so that we don't have to go back and forth..."

You stop explaining as he keeps staring at you, it's the eyes that tell so much more than just a stare, the eyes making you feel embraced.

It almost feels like he sees someone that he hasn't seen in a long time.

But that's only possible if the two of you had met before.

"Are you sure we never met before?" You blurt out as you park your bike outside the gift shop.

Felix chuckles and parks his bike next to yours, skipping on answering your question.

The gift shop sells handmade products that are made by the locals, ranging from t-shirts to little figurines made of glass.

You let him look around the shop before taking him to the second floor where there's a room with dozens of wind-chime hanging around the room.

"It's where they make wind-chime," you say.

There's a big wooden table in the middle of the room, cluttering with materials from seashells to feathers and tools scattering around.

"Have you ever made one yourself?"

You nod, "I have one in my house."

"I'd like to see," he says.

You chuckle because he takes your answer as an indirect invitation to come to your house. You'll never get used to his bluntness but you don't mind it either. It surprises you how much you tolerate him even though he's a stranger you've just met hours ago.

"Yeah, sure," You joke because it's the only proper way to respond to that.

When a gust of wind blows in, the wind-chime clink together and collectively make chiming sounds that filled the room with music.

They keep swaying in the direction of where the wind blows.

"Do you want to try and make one?" You ask.

"I'm bad at DIY," he answers with a grimace.

You laugh at how honest he is, there's no pretending in everything he says or does which is very rare. When you meet someone new, they usually hide behind their facade of what kind of person they wanted to be perceived as.

Something about Felix convinces you he has no fear of showing his true self to you.

That scares you a little but at the same time, keeps you intrigued.

Felix takes a few pictures with his phone before going back to the first floor where he continues looking around the shop for something to buy.

You wait for him by the cashier while looking at the beaded bracelets on the counter when all of a sudden a little girl comes to you and hugs you.

"Hi, hello," you greet with a confused tone.

She doesn't say anything but wraps her hands around your waist and looks up at you.

"I'm done looking around," Felix comes back while clutching a few things in his chest and sees the little girl hugging you.

You shake your head at him, "I have no idea," you lowly mutter to him.

Felix puts down the things he's going to buy on the counter and squats down to be at the same eye level as the little girl.

"Can you please tell your mom that I need to pay?" He sweetly asks while fixing the little girl's hair endearingly.

The little girl still not saying anything but nods at him.

"Good girl! Now go, go, go..." he's cheering for her as she gets inside the house to get her mom.

You tip your head to the side even more confused than before, "how do you know she's the daughter of the owner?"

He shrugs, "well... that's the only thing that makes sense," he vaguely explains while uneasily looking at a cart of postcards.

A few minutes later, the owner of the gift shop comes out with the little girl trailing behind her.

"I'm sorry for making you wait," the owner says and immediately packs Felix's things while counting them.

"I don't know you have a daughter," you say because as far as you remember, the owner of the giftshop lives with her brother who made all of those wind-chime and they're both not married yet.

She awkwardly chuckles and answers, "she's my... uh, little cousin."

You nod and take a look at the girl again, how she shares an uncanny resemblance with the owner, "she has your eyes," you pointed out.

She takes Felix's credit card to process the purchase, "yeah, many people said the same thing," she sheepishly says.

Then she returns Felix's card and hands him his things, "thank you!"

Felix smiles at her while putting his card back into his wallet, he then turns at you, "shall we go?"

"Sure," you say.

You smile at the owner and wave at the little girl before exiting the gift shop.

-

After having a quick lunch at a food truck by the beach, you take Felix for a short walk to the ice cream parlor for desserts.

"They have the best ice cream on the island," you brag to him while pushing the door to get inside.

"Oh yeah?"

You turn around as Felix enters after you, "and it's my treat," you say.

The ice cream parlor is a place to go especially after spending time at the beach and you know the owner well, you have been a regular since you were little.

And on Friday, they always give an extra scoop of ice cream.

"Hi, can I take your order?" The girl says in her pink and yellow uniform that matches the interior of the ice cream parlor.

"In a minute," you say and give time for Felix to choose a flavor from the selection displayed on the counter.

"They're all looking good," he says with wrinkled brows like this is a life-or-death decision to make.

"What would you recommend?" He asks you.

You point to the display counter, "Cookies and cream or the... peanut butter?" you recommend but to be honest, you're indecisive too when it comes to ice cream.

"They're all good," you add.

He laughs because you're only making it hard for him to choose.

"What are you having?"

"Chocolate chip cookie dough," you reply.

Seeing that he still needs time to decide, you order first while taking out your wallet from your bag, "I'll have one chocolate chip cookie dough on a cone."

She takes your order and types something on the computer.

"Do I get an extra scoop?" You ask.

"I'm sorry?"

"I get an extra scoop on Friday," you point to the poster on the wall for the promotion. It's clearly written extra scoop on Friday in bold fonts.

"Yes, but it's not Friday," she calmly explains.

Felix grabs your elbow and once again, steps into the matter that you guess he's about to solve.

"And I'll have the butter pecan," he adds and pulls out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Hey, I'm paying," you remind him and hurriedly pull out your card from your wallet.

He looks at you and smiles, "I'll just cut it from your pay later," he simply says.

Felix hands the cashier his credit card and says, "and don't forget the extra scoops."

The cashier looks at him with a baffled expression but after a moment, she takes his card from him.

In the end, you get your extra scoop but something is tugging at your chest. When you look back at all the strange things happening today, it's like you know you missed something but you can't pinpoint what it is.

"Are we going to watch the sunset at the beach?" Felix asks as he walks beside you.

You softly laugh seeing the ice cream on the corner of his mouth, you grab his arm and turn him to face you.

"Stay still for me," you order and take a napkin you brought.

You slowly dab his mouth with the napkin and can't help but notice that he's looking at your lips, you hand him the napkin after and look away.

"I have a better place to watch the sunset from," you say.

The bike ride to your next destination is going to be a tough one since the road is steep and bumpy.

But if you want to make it there for the sunset, you have to keep pedaling even though your legs are screaming in pain.

You both eventually stopped pedaling and get off your bikes, deciding to walk them for the rest of the journey up the hill.

Felix fortunately puts all of his trust in you, he doesn't complain or keep asking where you're taking him, which is normal if he does.

Surprisingly though, he's very calm about it.

You put the bikes next to a tree and you take out a bottle of water from your bag, handing it to him.

"Thanks!" He mutters to you and impatiently uncaps the bottle to drink it.

You take another one from your bag and take a big long gulp before start walking to where you're going to watch the sunset.

"What is this place?" Felix asks while taking another sip of water.

"Ruins of a castle," you answer.

There's a crease formed between his eyebrows in a curl of a question mark.

You softly laugh before explaining further, "not exactly a castle but there used to be a birdwatching tower here."

You lead him climbing up the stairs that remained from the ruins and stopping by the concrete barrier, looking out at the sea that seems to be one with the sky.

Felix stands next to you, taking in the breathtaking view in silence while you're observing him.

"You don't seem to be impressed," you say and you've never been this blunt to someone you recently acquainted with, somehow with him, it feels like okay to do that.

He smiles and takes a long deep breath, "which one do you think matters the most? The place or the people you're with?"

Instead of answering your question, he asks you with a new one that got you thinking long and hard.

Your head starts to make scenarios in your head. One is that you go to a beautiful place but you come with your least favorite person to be with and the other one is you go to a horrible place but it's with someone you love.

If you compare those two, the latter seems to be a better answer.

"The people," you answer.

Felix's head is tilted up to see the sky turning golden as the sun is going down with the day and after a moment, he finally turns his head to look at you.

"I really like this place," he says.

He stares into your eyes as if the reflection of the sunset in them is more stunning than the one happening at the end of the horizon.

Then he leans in a little closer at you, "but I like the person I'm with more," he finishes with a soft smile with his eyes filled with warmth. Even with the daylight almost gone, he's luminescent and bright, how come you've never seen such a face?

However, this feeling and this moment you're sharing right now are almost nostalgic like it has happened before.

Is this what people called as fate? Everything about him puts the pieces right in their places.

"Do you want to go see the wind-chime at my house?" You blurt out the question as if he wouldn't get that the wind-chime is just an excuse.

A smile rises on his face as the sun set for the day, "sure."

-

Before it gets too dark, you slowly ride your bikes down the hill and take a few shortcuts to your house.

You arrived just in time as the sun fully disappeared and the moon has taken its place in the sky.

You turn on all of the lights in the house before letting him in and quickly excused yourself to the bathroom, aware that he can see all the beads of sweat on your face.

You wash your face, apply lip balm, brush your hair, and spray a little perfume before getting out of the bathroom. You may still look exhausted but at least you smell nice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't offered you a drink," you say the moment you see him standing there in the living room, looking out at the back garden with the view of the sea.

"That's okay," he says.

You go to the kitchen and suddenly forgot where you put your things in there, "water? Soda? Juice?"

"Anything will do!"

You take a glass from the top cabinet, "a glass of anything then!" You joke as you open the fridge to get a carton of juice.

His laugh is deep and echoing in the house, "do you mind if I take a look around?"

"Oh please, make yourself at home," you kindly reply and watches him making his way out to the back porch.

You bring the glass of juice in your hand knowing that he must be in your little studio and find him looking at your drawings.

"Here you go!" You give him his glass of juice.

"Thank you," He doesn't waste time taking a sip and puts the glass down on the table.

He then continues looking at the drawings you put on the wall and doing it so attractively, you get to see his side profile of sharp jaws, a small nose, and lips.

"Your drawings are beautiful!"

His deep voice is enough to get you out of your reverie, you immediately mutter your gratitude, "thanks!"

"You're a great artist!" He praises once again.

It's the way he delivers the praise that got your heart palpitations, "I'm not an artist yet but I got a scholarship to attend an art school this year," you don't want to brag but this kind of opportunity doesn't come often.

"In fact, I'm leaving next month," you add with an excited laugh, still can't believe it yourself.

Felix's gaze turns a shade dimmer like he has just heard something awful, "wow, congratulations!" He says but the excitement isn't there.

"Thank you!" Yet you sincerely thanked him for it.

You remember you haven't asked him his intention on this island, "how about you?"

"Huh?"

"Are you here for a vacation or do you plan on staying?" You ask out of curiosity.

"Or do you like my sister's pain au chocolat too much?" You add a joke at the end to not make it seems like you're pressuring him to answer.

He smiles and turns to face you, "I'm staying."

"Permanently?"

"It seems like that, yeah," he answers.

It's too early to assume that he was sad to know that you'll be leaving soon when he only started living on the island but you can't help it either.

"Well, you'll love it here," you tell him, and deep inside you got inexplicably sad that you only met him now.

You both exchange a gaze that elicits the same emotions, of something tender but sorrowful. How do you even have these sorts of feelings toward someone you know barely hours ago?

It's a mystery but you like how you can comfortably look into his eyes and drown yourself in them.

Felix breaks the eye contact first and asks, "so, where's the wind-chime?"

You slightly got a bit jittery, "it's uhm... it's in the other room," you can't find yourself saying the exact location but leads him there.

You both go back inside the house and turn to the right to enter one of the rooms.

Once he stepped inside, Felix calmly walks up to the window and pushes it open to let the air in.

The wind-chime sways and makes clinking sounds, "yours is beautiful," he compliments.

"I bet you know the wind-chime is just an excuse," you shyly say.

He sheepishly smiles and nods.

You approach him and stop right next to him, looking at his face under the pale moonlight that adds a mystifying glow, and makes him appear like a mythical entity.

"Can I kiss you?" You know your curiosity can only be answered with a kiss.

"I swear to you I've never done this before," you start to blabber because that's what you do when you're nervous.

"But you feel so oddly familiar to me like we've met and known each other for years, I just wanted to—"

Before you can finish your sentence, he leans in and closes the gap between your bodies.

It's like the stars aligned the moment your lips touched, it's ethereal and just right.

Your eyes are still closed when he pulls away and you try so hard to find a name for this peculiar feeling, one that resembles a feeling of coming home.

"Is it bad?" He asks with his hands still cupping your face as you stay quiet for a good minute.

You open your eyes and slowly shake your head, "kissing a stranger," you lowly mutter.

You jerk your head back in confusion, "I've never done that before..."

Felix softly chuckles, "yeah, you told me."

You touch his face and swipe your thumb over his small lips, "can we kiss again?"

Strange that you don't see any signs of confusion on Felix's face, "of course, yeah," he answers while laughing.

You're the one leaning in this time and gently place your lips on his, feeling his warm soft lips against yours for a few seconds then let go.

"Interesting..." you sigh in a perplexed tone.

Felix drops his hands to hold you by the waist and you like how he feels around you, safe and comfortable.

You look at his face and laugh at this funny thought that crossed your head, "can we do more than just a kiss?"

Felix once again doesn't seem to be surprised by the question but cracks a laugh at you, "is that what you want?"

You laugh again while burying your face in his chest, drinking in his natural scent mixed with sunshine and sea breeze.

Then you shyly nod without looking at him.

"We can do that," Felix says with his mouth close to the top of your head.

After a while, you look up at him and do not hesitate to kiss him, "maybe after a few more of this," you say between kisses.

And he caters to your wants, returning the kisses with the same passion while holding you close.

"Should we go to bed?" You ask.

Felix doesn't answer but takes you to your bed, patting the space next to him.

However, you choose to sit on his lap and straddle him, kissing him again only to be the one who breaks it again, "I can't believe I asked you that," you say with a low laugh.

You plant a long kiss on his lips and sigh, "I swear to you I am not the type to ask someone I barely know to have sex with me, I—"

You pause to catch a breath from your constant blabbering.

Felix brushes your hair to the side and endearingly cups your jaw, "are you nervous?"

You put your hands around his neck, "a little."

"Do you want to continue?"

"Yes," you answer rather too quickly but you're way past embarrassing yourself at this point.

Felix sweetly smiles as he puts all of your hair away to the side and holds them there, "you're so beautiful."

It's the sincerity in his voice that assured you that his compliments aren't just empty words, they are genuine.

You want to adore him in the same way, one hand slips in his dark locks, and the other trails his defined jaw, you use the chance to play connect the dots with the freckles on his face.

"And you are so, so beautiful," you mutter back as earnestly as possible your voice quivering along with your heart.

The kisses he places on your lips next feel softer and longer than the previous ones but they hold intensity in them, hungry and a little possessive as if someone will take it from him.

And the next kiss is explosive as if this one unlocked the insecurities in both of you, setting them free.

Felix starts to take the dress off of you, exposing your skin to the cool night air and raising goosebumps all over your body.

"I have to warn you that I might be bad at it," you say as Felix puts your dress away.

"At what?" He asks back.

"Sex," you meekly answer.

He takes your hands and put them on his chest, "I'll be the judge of that," he calmly says.

Somehow your hands know what to do and start working the buttons of his shirt, impatiently parting it open after seeing the muscles he hides underneath that shirt.

He helps by taking it off of him and putting it aside, drawing you close to him again, kissing you hungrier than before.

You both collapse onto the bed and tangled your bodies like two slithering snakes, touching and kneading, lips endlessly attached.

More pieces of clothing are off until there are none but mere skins and limbs on the white sheet.

Felix sinks his mouth onto your neck and kisses you there, wet kisses that make you flutter on the inside. Like you aren't intoxicated enough, he slides his mouth down your chest and hovers there, taking your breast in his mouth in turns.

Your soft moans fill the space and echo in the room, your hand slips into his silky fine hair. 

You tug a little harder at it as he sucks harder on your nipple that Felix lets out a yelp.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize.

You gently rub his scalp with your fingertips to soothe the pain, "it's just that... they're so sensitive," you meekly admit.

Felix uses his index finger to rub your nipple in circular motions with his eyes looking at you through his lashes, "are they?"

You bite your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning and nod, "If you keep doing that, I may—" your words got cut off as Felix tugs your nipple between his teeth, then takes a mouthful of your ample flesh in his mouth.

Felix lets go with a popping sound, leaving your breast swollen and wet with his saliva.

He hastily kisses your mouth then brings his mouth close to your ear, "you know what?"

You turn your head to the side to look at him and mutter, "what?"

He presses his mouth into your other ear, "I can't wait to be inside you," his hot breath tickling, sending a shiver down your spine.

You feel the knot inside you ever so slowly tightening the more he aroused you.

Felix's hand is reaching for the drawers on the bedside table and you guess he's looking for condoms.

"It's on the second drawer," you tell him while watching his hand pull it open and take a condom out of the box.

It's probably a common thing that people keep condoms close to the bed, you reckon since Felix seems to know where you put them.

He sits on the edge of the bed, tears the wrapper open, and put the condom on, crawling back onto the bed once he's done.

He's smiling so sweetly as he hovers above you, placing small fluttering kisses on the side of your face. A hand glides down your body to part your legs open.

You capture his lips for a long, lingering kiss before letting him go, spreading your legs open for you.

Felix gives his cock a few pumps, wetting it with your essence as he rubs his length down your slit repeatedly.

He then put your legs over his and aligns his cock with your entrance, he holds your thighs as he slowly pushes in.

You grip the sheet underneath you and lowly moan as he keeps pushing the remaining length deeper into you.

The hand that holds your thigh, clawing into the flesh and making crescent marks on the skin.

With the last push of his hips, his cock is fully sheathed in your tight walls and he lets a low growl of satisfaction.

Felix lowers himself on you and places a kiss on your lips, taking a moment together to adjust to being inside each other.

You wrap your legs and arms around him, absorbing the heat his slim body emitting, feeling him skin to skin.

The quietness in the room only adds to the intimacy, there's nothing but the sound of your breathing and your body against each other.

Felix slowly thrusts into you but it's the stares deeply into your eyes that make you feel vulnerable under him. A hand holds the side of your head and brushes your hair to the side with such loving.

He softly smiles before speaking, "you're so quiet," he says and your eyes flutter shut as he places a long peck on your lips.

He cups your jaw and holds your gaze, "Is that good or bad?"

You lowly chuckle, a little hesitating to give him an honest answer but he needs to know.

"Good," you shortly reply.

He raises an eyebrow at you with his head slightly tipped to the side.

"Too good to be honest," you shamelessly admit.

The sweet smile returns to his face although he's deep inside you and fucking you like no one ever did to you.

He kisses your open mouth with his tongue invading yours, tasting more of you.

The moment he lets go, you gasp for air and feel a little lightheaded.

He wipes the mess around your lips and gives you a long peck after.

Felix is back kneeling on the bed, hands gripping your waist as you arch your back for him, giving him the right angle to thrust into you deeper.

He picks up the pace and you can feel yourself slipping away, drunk in pleasure. Your hands seek his but ended up holding his forearms.

"Oh my—" you start mumbling incoherent words and moaning at the same time.

Felix seems to be enjoying the sight as he lowly grunts through his gritted teeth, he lets go of your waist to hold your hands, intertwining them with his.

"You're so beautiful, my love," he murmurs.

Did you hear it right? Did he just call you that? 'My love'? Isn't it enough just by fucking you that he needs to call you that and makes your heart flutter in a heating moment like this?

Unexpectedly, Felix only lets the moment lasts for a while, he lets go of your hands and pulls out of you.

You let out a whine at the sudden emptiness and your eyes snap open, confused at this abrupt stop when it's getting really good.

It seems like Felix isn't as annoyed as you, he flashes you a sly smile and makes space on the bed.

He puts his hands under your thighs and holds them up, parting them open to sink his head in between.

A moan escapes your mouth as his hot mouth touches your dripping cunt and Felix makes out with it, using his tongue and lips.

It's messy but inexplicably hot, he licks you up and down your slit then drags his tongue to your clit to suck so hard on it.

You almost clamp him between your legs but he lifts his head at the right time. Felix makes a trail of kisses on your inner thigh while his hands knead the flesh.

It's like he knows how to touch you the right way, there's not one that you find uncomfortable. It's only possible if you had sex a few times together, it's either that or he knows how to please someone.

Next thing you know, he's back hovering above you, kissing you, all over your face and neck. He lays next to you and turns your body to face the other way with your back against his chest, then he holds his arm out to be your pillow which you gladly rest your head on.

He's peppering your neck and shoulder with wet little kisses and one hand makes its way to your wet core, fingering you even though you're already dripping down your thigh.

When he deems you're wet enough for him to penetrate again, he enters you once again from behind.

You can clearly hear his low groans as his mouth is so close to your ear.

"You feel so good," he murmurs into your ear, lips grazing your ear shell as he speaks.

"Gosh, I can feel you tightening around me," he adds.

Well, guess he knows that you like how he softly speaks into your ear and the deep voice doesn't help but make you even more aroused.

You curve your hand around his face and bring his head closer, turning your head to meet his hungry mouth for your lips.

Felix starts moving once again, a hand pulls your leg higher and thrusts deeper into you.

The knot inside you keeps tightening as well, your hand keeps holding his hand as Felix maintains his slow yet intensely hard thrusts.

"Close, mmh?" He asks you along with a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

Unable to provide a verbal answer, you stifle a nod at him.

Felix wraps your body with his arms and holds you so tightly as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, harder and deeper.

"Let's cum together, yeah?" He tells you.

Still, you can't force your foggy brain to form a verbal answer so you nod again. You can only grab his chin to kiss him again and moan into his mouth.

You cum almost at the same time not long after with your bodies sticking together like you are two puzzle pieces that fill each other's nooks and crooks.

When you think about it, it has been a long tiring day, tiring yet fulfilling, and now you feel so tired.

Felix kisses you and holds you close, cuddling you under the cover without pulling out yet. You like how each kiss gives you the same tingling feeling that you giggle like a schoolgirl. When his mouth is back on yours again, you kiss him back wholeheartedly until your heart aches.

"That was so good," you praise him with a shy smile.

"And you said you're bad at it," he says while clicking his tongue.

Just like your body can't find another time to interrupt, your stomach grumbles and you realize you haven't had dinner yet. You close your eyes in embarrassment as if that would hide you from him.

Felix lowly chuckles and kisses your cheek, "I'll go clean up and cook dinner for us," he says.

He kisses you again to finally get up from the bed and goes to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed alone still high in pleasure.

You allow yourself to lie for a minute before getting up as well, putting on a t-shirt. Since Felix plans to cook dinner, a thought runs into your head, you doubt you have something to cook in your fridge, so you hurriedly go to the kitchen to check the fridge.

You don't remember doing grocery shopping and stocking your fridge with a lot of vegetables, you give up on trying to remember things and shrug it off.

It's a relief that there's something for Felix to cook besides the packs of ramen in the top kitchen cabinet.

It takes Felix a long time in the bathroom and you figure he must be looking for towels or something, you jog back to your bedroom to tell him.

You knock his bag off the dining table on the way there and the contents scatter out of its bag, book, pens, wallet, notes, keys, everything.

"Oh no!" You immediately squat down to pick up the things on the floor, putting them back into his bag.

The book is the last thing you pick and it's the book he was reading at the bakery shop this morning, you turn to see the cover.

It's your favorite book from a Russian writer and Felix comes out of your room.

"I accidentally dropped your bag," you quickly explain before he gets the wrong idea.

"You're reading my favorite book," you blurt out of excitement.

“I think... if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.”

You proceed to recite your favorite quote from the book with a smile on your face then flip open the book.

The smile fades as you recognize the handwriting on the first page, of your initial so you wouldn't lose your copy of the book.

You glance up at Felix whose eyes turn dim like a candle in the wind, "Is this mine?"

He doesn't answer but takes a few steps closer to you.

"Stop right there!" You snap at him with your hand outstretched to stop him from coming close to you.

"H—how do you have my book?" You ask him and lift the book right at him.

Felix seems to struggle to stay where he is, he keeps wanting to get close to you but resists the urge. He takes a deep breath, then says, "I can explain everything."

He takes a careful step towards you but you take a step away from him, maintaining a big gap between you.

"Don't come any closer!" You snap again and hold the book by the spine, ready to throw it at him if he tries to get close to you.

"Give me a chance to explain everything," he pleads with his arms reaching out to you.

His plead means nothing compares to the fear you're feeling right now. Not knowing who he is yet he has been keeping your book in his bag this whole time and you have no idea how he gets ahold of it. On top of that, you feel betrayed because he has been nothing but nice to you.

"Just tell me how the fuck you have my book?" You raise your voice and aim the book at him, something slips off from between the pages of the book and onto the floor.

It looks like a pamphlet from an art exhibition and you're about to glance away from it until you see it, a picture of you on the pamphlet.

"What is this?" You ask Felix.

"Why my picture is on this?"

He looks so sad rather than panic with his hands staying on his side with his face drops, "Let's sit down and I'll explain everything to you, please?"

You refuse to reconcile with him, you put the book down on the armrest of the sofa to read what the pamphlet says since it has a picture of you.

It has your name on it then a short biography of you, you skim the part you already know about your life, then to the part where it gets strange.

"... known opulent colors and dynamic compositions, she's considered to be one of the best artists of the past decade. With just a few confident lines, she could convey gestures and emotions.

Her love for drawing started at a young age and in her early 20s, she planned to move to the capital city of art after accepting a scholarship to the prestigious art school that's also an alma mater to many talented artists.

A month prior to the plan, she got into a terrible accident that caused severe brain damage which got her diagnosed with amnesia anterograde, a type of memory loss that occurs when one can't form new memories. She permanently loses the ability to learn or retain any new information.

Ever since she wakes up living the same day over and over again, that is August 21 when the tragic accident happened.

But what remains different from her day is the drawing she made that captures the beauty of the island she lives in through her eyes.

Every drawing shown in the exhibition is taken right from her personal journal and has been carefully selected by the person who discovered her talent, a retired dancer, Felix Lee.

This drawing series proves two things: that there are no boundaries in art and just like the title of the exhibition itself, her talent is one of a kind."

It's like reading about a life that isn't yours. You refuse to believe it and throw it across the room. That is not you, someone has been pulling a prank on you.

"I would have known if I got into a tragic accident? What brain damage?" You laugh it off while pacing the room.

"You got hit by a car when you were on your bike, you were on your way to the castle on the hill," he speaks with his eyes closed as if it hurts to tell you that.

"No, that didn't happen!" You shake your head in disbelief and try to block him from messing with your head.

Felix remains where he is but looks terribly sad, "you have a scar on the right of your head to prove it," he meekly says.

"No, I don't!" You strongly deny his words.

He just stares at you with those sad and dim eyes, the ones that you hate to see on him.

"If this is some kind of joke to you, just know that it isn't funny!" You look him dead in the eyes as you warn him.

You know he's lying but you have to prove it yourself, your hand reaches for your head and slowly traces your scalp for any kind of...

There, you feel it, the indentation of a scar along the side of your head. You didn't feel it until you acknowledge it, it stings that your eyes start to water.

"What is this? I don't—" you keep denying it because you don't want it to be true.

You break down onto the floor as tears roll down your face, "I don't understand. I never got into an accident, I swear, I—"

Felix comes to hold you and you don't have any energy left in you to stop him, so you let him. You let him hold you so tight as if he wants to squeeze the sadness out of you.

"It's okay. It's not your fault," he says to you and tightens his hold around you.

"I don't believe it!" You deny still even though now you know that it's true and it hurts so much like a ton of bricks falls onto your head at once.

Felix lets you cry into his chest until you calm and your body stops shaking, he brings you a glass of water, then sits across from you.

He explains everything about how you got into the accident and what caused your memory loss, how have you been living. Everything starts to make sense, the familiar feelings, and the people, how this island stays the same but feels so strange to you.

"Are you the Felix Lee? The one who discovered me?" You ask while holding the glass of water in your hands.

"Yes."

"What are we?" You ask.

The question seems to surprise him, maybe it's too personal or too complicated for him to find a definite answer. You think of another question to ask him.

"Since when did you know me?"

"Last year." He answers.

"You've known me for a year?"

He nods.

"Did you know right away about my condition?"

He shakes his head and leans forward, clasping his hands in front of him, "I met you at your sister's bakery shop."

"Just like today?"

He nods again, "that's pretty much how we met," he confirms.

"Then?"

"You didn't recognize me the next day and we had a little argument, at one point you're about to splash me with your cup of coffee," he awkwardly chuckles.

You cringe hearing that from him but that's one of the things you'd likely do.

"Then your sister explained to me about your condition," he adds.

This is the part that intrigues you, he has the option to leave and remains a stranger to you. But why? He said it's been a year since he knew you yet he's here.

"Then why are you still here?" You ask.

"Because I fell in love with you," he shortly replies as if it's an obvious and the only right answer. As if those words won't make your heart aches from hearing it.

Tears start pooling in your eyes again, "why don't you fall in love with someone else?" Your voice breaks at the end of the sentence.

"Because they're not you," he answers.

You can't believe that he's been doing this for a year when he can have a life out there, and falls in love with someone who can make new memories with him every day.

"Why?" You croak as tears caught in your throat.

Felix's eyes are glossy and they're shining under the lights, "Because I love you and I want to be with you," he reaches for your hands and holds them.

"But I—" you pause to catch a breath, "But I won't remember you—" you can't finish your sentence as you start to sob.

Felix comes to your side and holds you again.

"I'll keep forgetting you every day," you say again and let it sink, in how tragic it is to not be able to remember him.

He holds your face in his hands, wiping the tears on your cheeks with such loving, "But you do remember me," he says.

But that only hurt you more, how you can't remember him and how it's frustrating to you. You kept saying how he feels familiar to you but can't remember who he is and that he's been by your side for the past year.

That explains the feelings you have for him, that it's there and it's real.

"And I don't want to forget you again," you sob into his chest.

It seems that it's not the first time Felix finds you like this and that's sad. Why did it happen to you? Who should you blame for this? The driver who lost control of his car? God?

All you know is blaming anyone or anything won't solve anything but make you suffer.

You're lucky you have someone who stays by your side and tries to remind you of him.

You look up at him and hold his face, "I wish we met the day before the accident," you say.

He shakes his head, "No, I wish you never had to experience all of this," he corrects you.

You kiss him with all of your heart and yes, you do remember him. This kiss, these lips, these hands that hold yours, and the warmth of his embrace.

It's him, your heart remembers him.

-

To put it simply, you have all of your memories from the earliest you remember until the day of the accident stored in your brain.

You just can't retain any new memories and your slate is wiped clean every night when you go to sleep. You wake up every day thinking that it's the day of the accident, August 21.

You can't believe that the whole town is keeping this from you but you also understand why they chose to do that, they don't want to hurt you with the harsh truth of your condition.

You believe that Felix has the same good intentions, he just wanted to protect you.

"Breakfast for dinner, huh?" You say as he serves you a plate of food in front of you. It consists of sautéed veggies, a baked potato with cheese, bacon, and toasted mini waffles.

"Is this my favorite of your cooking?"

"No," he replies.

Felix makes himself a plate of dinner too then sits next to you at the dining table, "your favorite is the grilled cheese but we had that yesterday," he adds.

When you think about it again, it's sad that you can't remember anything that you like about him. Just anything about him for that matter. You also understand that it takes a lot of patience to be with you and you're so grateful beyond words for him.

You take his hand and hold it there on your lap, "So I guess Mr. Park is no longer working at the planetarium?" You ask while taking a spoonful of food.

"He moved out of the island a few months ago," Felix answers.

"And the child at the giftshop is the daughter of the owner?"

He nods, "her name is Nana and she likes you very much."

You smile while chewing your food, "and what day is it?"

"It's Monday."

"You paid for the extra scoop?" You guess again.

He nods again.

You shove another spoonful of food into your mouth, "I think this is my new favorite cooking of you," you say.

Felix chuckles in response.

"What?"

"You said that to everything I cooked for you," he answers with a sheepish smile.

Apart from your memory loss, you know yourself well that when you compliment someone or something, you mean them.

"Well then that means I love your cooking," you conclude with a smile.

He brings your hand close to his lips to softly kiss your knuckle, "thank you," he mutters so sweetly.

After washing the dinner down with a few glasses of wine, you're snuggling with Felix as he holds you close on the bed, looking out at the night sky through the open window.

You rest your head on his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat, "Did our days always end like this?" You ask out of pure curiosity.

Felix removes the strands of hair from covering your face and gently kisses your forehead, "not always."

"No?" You ask with sad eyes.

"There are good days and bad days, days in between," he vaguely answers.

"Some days are like today, some days you didn't and sometimes, I just let you be," he explains while caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

There's a possibility that you hurt him on one of those days too but he chooses not to let you know.

"It must be hard for you," you feel bad for him, for being stuck in the endless cycle to try and make you remember him.

He shakes his head, "as long as you're happy," he says.

You put your hand across his chest and hold him, feeling him as a whole person with a beating heart that loves you regardless of your condition.

You tilt your head up and look at him, you probably have done it more than a hundred times already but your heart flutters still.

You place a soft kiss on his lips because words can't truly fathom how thankful you are for him.

You pull away from the kiss with a smile while admiring his pretty face from up close, wiping your thumb over his lips.

He holds the side of your face affectionately, "you seem to have another question for me," he narrows his eyes at you.

You get flustered even though you haven't said anything, you lay on your stomach and prop a hand under your chin, nodding at him.

"You can ask me anything," he says with his hand on the arch of your back.

"Did the sex always this good?" You shyly ask.

Felix gets flustered as well that he closes his eyes and scrunch his nose, "I think so, yes," he answers.

You keep nodding while smiling, you hover over his body and have him pinned under you.

"That's all I need to know," you say before lowering your mouth for a kiss.

Felix puts his hands around your waist and holds you still, "are you sure you only need to know?"

He certainly knows you well.

If the sex is always that good, it would be a missed opportunity to not have another round with him. Adding to the fact that he's not a total stranger to you changes everything significantly.

You feel a lot more confident, comfortable around him, and safe.

And he's just so... oh, he's so gorgeous, you wonder how this man comes into your life. What is the possibility of a star falling onto your lap just like that? You're so lucky.

Felix intensely looks at you with his half-shut eyes, shifting between seeing his cock going in and out of you and the way you bounce on his cock.

You lean back with your hands on his legs as support and your feet are on each side of his body.

Your breasts move along with every movement you make on top of him and Felix allows himself to fondle them with his hands.

His other hand steadily holds your waist, gripping it so hard you're sure he's making a mark there.

"So good, my love, oh..." he murmurs as he pinches your nipple between his fingers.

You slow down the pace and roll your hips in circular motions, making him feel you whole.

He squeezes on your breast as a groan escapes his mouth, "the way you clench around me, baby," he sighs with eyes closed.

You fondle your breast together with his hand, giggling at how he looked so intoxicated by the pleasure you brought to him.

You continue rolling your hips, back and forth, slow and steady, feeling his length inside you, nudging the sensitive spot repeatedly.

"I don't think I'll last long this time," he says with a mix of delight and desperation in his voice.

You take both of his hands and clasped them with yours, using them as a support as you pick up the pace of your movement.

You hear him cursing under his breath plenty of times already but that only makes you want to please him more, picking up the pace because you can feel that he's so close to his release.

You're enjoying yourself by pleasing him, whining in pleasure, and touching yourself.

A moment later, you can feel his cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with his seed. A mix of grunts and moans spilled out of his parted mouth.

"And you said you're so bad at it, huh?" He breathlessly says to you.

You chuckle then lower yourself on top of him, sloppily kissing him on the mouth.

He takes a fistful of your hair in his hand as he kisses you back so hard that your lungs burn from running out of oxygen.

The night is getting late and it has been a very long, fulfilling day. The exhaustion got to you and your eyes start to get heavy while Felix held you close with no gap left between your bodies.

"You're sleepy," he says while brushing your hair with his little fingers.

You widen your eyes to prevent them from drooping, "I'm alright," you lie.

He gently pats your head then kisses it, "it's okay, you can rest now."

You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, "If I do then I'll forget you," you sadly say, feeling a lump forming in your throat.

He places his two fingers under your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him.

"That's okay," he assures you with a tender kiss on your lips.

He holds your gaze and the warmth oozes out of his brown eyes, "I'll make you remember me."

He gives your lips a quick peck on the lips, "tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, for the rest of the week, for as long as I live..."

He takes your hand and kisses it, "I promise that I'll make you remember me," he finishes.

The tears just start to flow out of your eyes and roll down your cheeks, your heart hurts so much like someone stabbed it repeatedly.

"Why did you do this?" You speak between your low sobs.

Felix sadly smiles but his eyes remain kind and warm, "I told you, I want to be with you."

You dive into his arms and into the safety of his embrace where nothing can hurt you. You'll soon forget how his body feels against you, his gentle touch, and his intoxicating lips that always entice you to kiss.

Then a pair of hands that always knows how to wipe your sadness away and protect you from harm, hands that know how to please you and put you at ease.

For the first time you feel so sure about everything, this moment and this person, this feels right because he's right.

With steadfast conviction, you look into his eyes and say those words that are meant to be said to him, "I love you." You dare to let your heart wide open because you know he wouldn't break it, and it does feel like you have said it for the umpteenth time. You don't remember it but your heart keeps the count.

Your brain would soon dismiss him from your memory but your heart will remember him as the one who says, "I love you too."

-

Felix likes watching you sleep with your hands folded under your head, lost in your peaceful dream.

He would stay the night up, guarding you against the bad dreams that might invade your sleep and admire your beautiful face that you're so unaware of.

When the dawn breaks, no matter how much he wants to stay, he knows it's his time to go.

He allows himself to have a moment to take a long look at your face, caressing it so tenderly like you would break if he touches you the wrong way.

"We'll meet again today," he whispers into your ear then gives a long, lingering kiss on your forehead.

"I love you," he finishes with another kiss on the back of your hand.

He lingers by the doorway to see your sleeping figure under the cast of bluish light, where he questions himself if this is right to keep doing this.

He refuses to give up just because that's easier. He has faith that in that caged heart of yours, you remember him.

He knows his answer would always be to stay with you then blames himself for letting the doubt take over him for a second.

He opens your journal to rip the pages of drawings you did that day and put everything back into your bag. He gathers his things and makes sure that he left no trace of himself in the house.

On the way out, he meets your sister who's going to help him put things back into their place like it's August 21 all over again.

"How was she?" She asks while holding the copy of the same dress you wear every day in one hand.

"She remembered me," Felix answers.

She lets out a sigh of relief, "That's good," she comments.

"You'd better go home and get some rest," she adds.

Felix nods and takes your sister's bike with him, going back to his cottage not far from your house.

He compiles the drawings you did into the collection he has saved in files, email the gallery director if she's interested to display new drawings of you.

He rests for a few hours before getting up and getting ready for a new day.

You always come to your sister's bakery shop around 7.30 and Felix comes a few minutes late on purpose.

When he enters the bakery, he sees you already sitting in your favorite spot in the bakery and silently drawing on your journal.

Felix orders himself a cup of coffee and a pastry from your sister.

"She looks bright this morning," your sister says as she hands him his orders.

Apart from your swollen eyes, your sister is right.

You are as radiant as ever, your smile is scintillating and the morning shining through the window adds a glow to your heavenly presence.

He takes slow walks to your table and he tries not to startle you by clearing his throat to make his presence known.

You look up at him, wide-eyed and curious.

"Good morning!" He begins.

"Morning!" You greet back with zero enthusiasm.

No matter how many times he received this cold expression from you, he believes he'll never get used to it.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Felix asks and careful with the way he says it. He doesn't want to come off as if he wants to intrude on your day, he just wants to be a part of your day, no matter how small it is.

He did this a handful of times already, sometimes you accepted him, sometimes you rejected him, and a few times, you didn't even let him in at all.

He's prepared for both the best and the worst of outcomes.

He feels your eyes scanning him for any signs of red flags and then looks down at your drawing.

"You may sit," you answer without looking at him.

This is categorized as a good result, it's better than you flatly rejected as you did a few days ago.

Felix doesn't want to rush things so he pulls out his book, sips his coffee, and tries not to notice how you quietly glance at him.

He bites into his pastry and that seems to evoke your curiosity.

"What are you having?" You ask but keep your eyes on your drawing.

"Oh it's a..." he pauses to think of a clever way to answer you and one that would make you laugh.

"Pain au chocolat," he answers.

You snort in response.

"What?"

"That's not a pain au chocolat," you say.

"It isn't?"

You put your pencil down and drink your coffee, "that's a chocolate croissant," you correct him.

"I thought it was the same," Felix says with utmost surprise even though he heard it before.

" They are made from the same dough but pain au chocolat is shaped in a cuboid piece rather than a croissant," you explain and take another sip of your coffee.

"Ah!" Felix exclaims.

"I've been misinformed this whole time!" He says with an irritated sigh.

"That's okay, the internet can be misleading sometimes," you sneer.

"How do I know your information is legit?" Felix dares with a sly smile.

You cross your arms in front of you, "my sister owns this bakery," you say with a smirk.

The mischief in that curl of your lips, he likes it on you.

"So that proves your pastry profiling skill?" He leans forward and raises an eyebrow at you.

You got quiet for a while then all of sudden, burst into laughter.

"Pastry profiling— What?"

Gosh, seeing you laugh makes his heart full and he wants to keep doing that: making you happy.

Felix points to your journal, "are you drawing sketches of pastries, huh? Let me see!" He jokes.

"No, I'm not," you say while still laughing.

The laugh dies down after a moment and it's the first time you look into his eyes that day, "How come I've never seen you here before?"

"I'm new in this town," he answers.

You put your journal aside and lean on the table, "and you are?"

"I'm Felix, nice to meet you!" He introduces himself and holds out his hand at you.

You seem to hesitate at first but confidently take his hand and shake it for a few seconds, "Nice to meet you!"

And that's how another day begins.

Another day of trying to make you fall in love with him all over again.

-

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[lovecarisi]

Mistakes We Knew We Were Making

Chapter 3: The Pages

You wake up to the overwhelming aroma of coffee and bacon, and for a moment you’re confused before the memory of the previous night returns to you. Dominick with his strawberries. Whispered ‘I’m sorry’s’ and you aren’t quite sure what they were for anymore. And your bed still smells of him, that scent you wish you could wrap yourself up in. And the side of the mattress is still warm from his body as you reach out your hand to where he had fallen asleep, arms and legs around you like a vine. You had woken several times during the night, had watched him sleep and are now ashamed to admit it to yourself. But you just couldn’t help yourself. In a way you wished he had left so you could have found peace because again and again there you were studying his face, listening to his breathing, watching for the smallest movements. Like he was some sort of treasure. It makes you want to bang your head against the wall.

You stretch lazily and get up, making your way to the bathroom where you pull your dressing gown around yourself loosely. There’s a faint hickey on your collarbone. That should annoy you, you’re not thirteen anymore. He shouldn’t put his mark on you like that. But instead you find yourself tracing your fingers over it, smiling. You love it. You kind of want to show it off. Want your friends to ask you about it. Curious whispers behind your back. You want him to know he can claim you as long as you can claim him. How ridiculous that it turns you on. 

‘Good morning.’ He's behind you and you jump a little.

‘Ugh! Don’t do that!’ You turn around and glare at him. 

‘Sorry.’ he pouts charmingly, knowing he can get away with anything and everything.

‘Thought you would have left by now.’ You turn back toward the mirror and attempt to fix the mess that is your hair, last night’s activities have taken their toll.

‘Would you have preferred me to?’ He steps behind you and moves the silk fabric of your gown ever so slightly in order to reveal the mark he has left, and you shudder at his touch and the way he inspects you, a mischievous smirk on his lips. 

‘Thought it was customary to do so after a booty call.’ you can’t help but press your ass against him and get an immediate response from his body. You’re only teasing, you’re secretly glad he’s still here. Although it makes you somewhat nervous. This isn’t something you should let become a habit.  

‘You and your thoughts.’ His fingers run over the hickey again and he kisses your neck before he withdraws. ‘I made breakfast and it’s getting cold. Come on.’

Breakfast is an understatement, you think, as you see the spread prepared on your tiny kitchen island. Pancakes, a fruit salad, bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, porridge, buttered toast, croissants, jam, Nutella, coffee, orange juice, some green smoothie. Strawberries.

‘Ummm….’

‘Well, I went and got some things to go with the strawberries.’ He pulls out a chair and you stare at him like he’s an alien who’s just landed in the middle of your kitchen with his spaceship.

‘Who the fuck even are you?’ you mumble and shove a piece of croissant into your mouth, rolling your eyes at him. He scrunches up his nose and sits next to you, sipping his coffee. 

‘I like to cook.’ He peeks at you over the rim of the cup and you roll your eyes again. What have you gotten yourself into?  

‘Did the good lord send you here to domesticate me?’ you ask with the most serious tone of voice you can manage and he almost chokes on his drink laughing. 

You both crack up and just when you thought you calmed down you snort and end up cracking up again. His face is red like a tomato and tears are streaming down your face and you don’t remember the last time you laughed this hard that wasn’t with your girlfriends. It catches you off guard, this lightheartedness with a man. Then again, you should have known, when everything else was so easy with him that all kinds of intimacy would be. Still, it is not something you are used to so it surprises you how naturally it comes. Maybe you would second-guess yourself later on. Maybe you would feel silly, immature even. But this was supposed to be fun, right? 

_____________

‘It’s nice and it’s fun.’ you repeat it like a mantra a couple of hours later when you meet your best friend Louisa for a drink. 

Of course she knows about you and Dominick. She had seen you two as you returned from your little excursion to the boathouse, all red-faced and giggly, and figured out the rest. Knowing you for almost all your life she had been slightly shocked, claiming it wasn’t like you to have sex with a guy you hardly knew. Let alone let him, well, bang you out in the open and you couldn’t even argue with the way she had made it sound so perverted because it had been. 

‘Lou, I don’t know what came over me, okay? Okay? I’m not gonna feel bad though. I’m not gonna apologize. I’m 25 and I feel like now’s the time to go and have fun, especially after Daniel. You know what my parents are like. They thought I would marry that guy. And now I’m not, thank God. Anyway, I’m almost finished with law school, I’m single, it’s summer. Let me just have this! He’s so so soooo gorgeous. And sweet. He’s so sweet. And fun. And the sex. Dear lord, the sex. It’s like he’s inside me. I mean he IS. He IS inside me. But like, fully. Inside me. My brain. It’s so fucking intense. Anyway, before everything in my life gets serious, I gotta enjoy this. Just be a little crazy with this beautiful, sexy man.’ you talk excitedly and Louisa stares at you with an amused smile. 

‘Okay, okay. Yes I agree, He is gorgeous, it’s not like I’m blind. And I heard he’s a nice guy. I just want you to be careful, with him and with yourself. Even if you think this is just fun and games, it’s never just fun and games and someone always gets hurt in the end. So you gotta set some rules, some boundaries. You’re vulnerable after what happened with Daniel, I want you to not let anyone take advantage of that. I’m not saying Dominick would do that on purpose but y’know. Go have fun but make sure you’re on the same page first.’

‘I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page.’ you say it but you’re not actually.

‘You gotta make sure you are sure.’ she insists. 

‘Yes, yes, alright.’ 

Well there was a conversation to look forward to. 

________________

You spend the rest of your Saturday going through the list of potential future employers your boss has given you. He’s willing to recommend you for either, he said, and you know he has reputable connections not just in New York but internationally. It’s something to consider, especially straight out of law school. It’s not that he wouldn’t like to keep you on after you passed your Bar exam but you and him both know you are meant to go and explore the great big world outside the relatively small office. So you had politely declined.

Ever since you’ve wanted to become a lawyer, from the age of 13, human rights have been set in your sight. Memories of you and your parents watching the news, stories about political conflicts, poverty, human trafficking, war crimes, and numerous other atrocities flashing on the screen on the daily and that helpless feeling that shook you to your core. Turning to your mother you had asked ‘Why isn’t anyone doing anything’ and your mother answered ‘People are trying, honey.’

You’re not delusional or naive enough to think you can change the world. No one can. But you also refuse to give in to helplessness, it’s too easy to think there’s no point swimming against the current. Luckily your parents and teachers had always supported your dream, especially when you were ready to give up, and had managed to pull you back from that cliff of utter hopelessness on the many occasions when you had felt like there was no point.

Needless to say the United Nations are on the very top of your list. And luckily, after enrolling in a legal clinic there during your first year at Fordham where you met one of the top human rights lawyers who you’ve kept in touch with, you do have a contact there. Not only that, Emily had become somewhat of a mentor to you. She had worked for the UN for over 25 years and you are hoping to learn from her eventually and that Bachelor in political science and sociology sure helped a lot to impress her.

___________________ 

Dominick picks you up on Sunday afternoon outside your apartment for a walk around Highland Park. After your conversation with Louisa you kind of regret agreeing on meeting him now because it feels like a date and there isn’t supposed to be a date. You are supposed to set rules. Boundaries. And you feel like he isn’t thinking about setting them so you are the one who has to. And you feel awkward and nervous and like you’re about to ruin things by having ‘the talk’. Or maybe you’re interpreting too much into this silly little walk already, perhaps he isn’t thinking anything of it, not more than two people on a casual stroll on a sunny afternoon. So what’s a girl to do? You decide to follow your gut and test it out. See where the conversation takes you.

He hands you an iced chai latte and you head towards the park, the way he always guesses your favorites is endearing to you. Your ex couldn’t remember your Starbucks order even after three years. Oh god, you have to stop comparing him to your ex. Stop. But it’s hard when he’s the first guy you’re, well, whatever it is you’re doing with him, after your last relationship.

‘You’re not tired of seeing my face yet?’ Dominick smiles from behind his black Ray-Bans, chewing on the straw of his pink lemonade. 

He looks absolutely ravishing again today. White shirt, looking so good with his slight tan, damn his Italian blood. Tousled hair, tight jeans, Converse. If he had asked, you would have taken him straight home. It’s insane what kind of carnal instincts this man is provoking in you. Scary, almost. Your whole body shudders at his sight.  

‘Not yet but the day isn’t over.’ you reply, feeling cheeky as well.

‘What would it take? I like to annoy people.’ Oh he’s on his boyish bullshit today. You hate how it’s only the third time meeting him and you can already tell. 

‘You would want to annoy me? Believe me, I can be a real bitch.’ You are up for the challenge, you’re not even kidding. 

Dominick puts his arm around your neck and pulls you in close, kisses your forehead, and you breathe in his aftershave. As always, he smells divine. As always, mixed with the warmth of his body, it makes your head go fuzzy. There’s a simple science behind it, they say, body chemistry or whatever, but to you it seems like he has bewitched you. Why else would he feel so familiar after such a short amount of time? Or are you just that desperate for the affection of an attractive man? You feel like clinging to him like velcro. 

‘I would annoy you, just a little bit. And then you could be a bitch, just a little bit. And then we could go back and forth bickering like an old married couple.’

You find him irresistible. Too irresistible, almost. There’s a part of you that wishes you two could go on like this, flirting like crazy, pushing and shoving, until you are too hot and bothered to be in public any longer. When the time comes and Dominick has to grab you and you run off back to your place. Where you tear off each other’s clothes and fuck like bunny rabbits and you can forget about what he just said but you can’t and it’s time you take that deep breath and just get it over with.

‘Well, we are not an old married couple. We’re not even a couple. And I’d like it to stay that way, please, Dominick.’ You try not to sound too harsh but there it is. You went there and now you can’t take it back.

He unwraps his arm from your shoulder and stops dead in his tracks, putting his hands over his heart. 

‘Ouch. Okay. Damn.’

You curse yourself. Maybe you could have been a bit gentler. 

‘Sorry. I thought we were on the same page with this. Considering…I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I like you. I really do. A lot, Dominick. You’re…incredible. And maybe at another time it would be different, I’m just. Out of sorts from my last relationship. I don’t need any of those complications right now. I’m sorry. I just-…thought we should have this conversation sooner rather than later before this goes on and on and we end up in limbo somewhere and neither of us knows where the other one stands. So there won’t be any expectations I can’t meet.’ You mean it. Perhaps things really would be different if the timing was better. 

Truth be told, you can’t let yourself go there at the moment. 

‘No, it’s fine, I get it. Honestly I wasn’t thinking about taking it further. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m crazy about you.’ Dominick takes off his sunglasses and steps closer to you. ‘And that I wanna spend time with you. Preferably naked. But if I can annoy you on a walk in the park I like doing that too. But yeah, I’m not looking for a relationship either, y’know. My last one didn’t end that well. So we’re definitely on the same page, no worries.’ he cups your face with his hands and kisses you and you feel relieved, for a second there you really thought you hurt his feelings, that maybe he had wanted more from this. 

But among the relief there’s something else. Something that’s pulling your insides in what feels like every direction, in a strange way. You can’t explain it. Your mouth and throat suddenly feel so dry and you take a sip of your drink to fight it. 

‘So we’re good? Like this?’ You recover from whatever it is that came over you. Maybe you just aren’t used to this sort of thing.

‘Sure. We’re good. I mean I’ve never done this so, I guess we gotta figure it out as we go along.’ He blushes a little and thinks putting back his sunglasses will hide it, how adorable. 

It kind of takes you aback that he never had a casual thing with someone, most men do, as opposed to women. Then again, you thought you weren’t the type, yet here you are. 

‘Well, I’m not an expert either.’ You kick at a pebble. 

‘Is spending the night and making breakfast still okay?’ 

Oh dear. A simple question yet such a complicated matter. It was meant to be simple. You try your best. You think of the way he made you feel, sleeping next to you with his arms around you. Good in one way but entirely in pieces in another. 

‘If I say it’s not a requirement but you can if you want to? Does that suffice as an answer?’ You really don’t know how else to put it. 

‘If that’s how you feel, sure.’ Dominick seems neither happy nor sad about it. 

Many lies were told that day. You both had had your hearts broken in the past and you both didn’t want to have your hearts broken again. So you tiptoe around it while at the same time thinking you could embrace each other fully, so intensely, so entirely. And you thought ‘This must be what he wants’ and at 25 and 26 you both think you know exactly what you want. Well, you know nothing. Now there you sit, on the same page.  Or are you?

Because the thing with pages is, they are constantly turning. A new chapter is starting. Another ending. So which would it be? 

#dominick carisi #sonny carisi #svu #law and order svu #carisi x reader #dominick carisi x reader #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi fan fic #dominick carisi fan fic #sonny carisi fic #dominick carisi fic #svu fan fic

[geralt-of-baevia]

Call It What You Want: Chapter Seven

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine

pairing: nobreakout!joel x f!ofc (Violet Fletcher)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 3.3k

summary: Seeking solace from a painful breakup, Violet relocates to a tranquil town, purchasing a neglected house to renovate. In her new neighborhood, she befriends Harlow, who introduces her to Joel, a gruff and seasoned contractor with a heart of gold. Despite Joel's initial grumpiness, Violet finds herself drawn to his expertise and hidden kindness.

As Violet immerses herself in home renovations alongside Joel, their dynamic begins to shift, with Joel unexpectedly opening himself up to the possibility of love. Their budding relationship faces challenges as shadows from their pasts emerge, testing their newfound connection.

warnings/tags: fluff, child loss, descriptions of a car wreck, friend loss, reproductive anatomy talk, more crying, maria being a cunt, and i think that's it

a/n: so, im not telling you the next chapter something finally happens between our two love birds...but I'm also not NOT telling you that 👀. this chapter is another kinda sappy, sad one. but man, I love these characters so much. 💕

The rest of the afternoon Harlow helped me make some biscuits to take to dinner. Apparently we were going to be having breakfast, and I wanted to contribute something. 

“What’s this other dough that’s in the fridge?” Harlow asked. I looked over to see her pointing at a square slab of dough wrapped in seran wrap. 

“Oh, that’s going to be croissants. The dough is chilling after laminating it,” I told her. I started to explain what that was, but she stopped me. 

“I’ve watched enough Great British Bake Off, I know what that is,” she said proudly. I shook my head and laughed. 

“Who are you making croissants for?” 

“For Bill and Frank. I told them at the wedding I’d make them some as a wedding present,” I said happily. A huge grin spread across her face. She bit at her bottom lip to try and contain it. “What?”

“Okay, okay, you twisted my arm, I’ll tell you,” she said, rocking back and forth on her feet. 

“Tell me what?” 

“I think Frank is going to ask you to bake pies and things for their restaurant,” she said excitedly. My eyes widened and my jaw slacked. 

“Wait-wait what?” I asked, not believing what I was hearing. “But, but why?”

“Because Frank really likes you. And Bill really likes your croissants. Oh and Joel wouldn’t shut up one day about an apple pie you made,” she said, knitting her brow together at the mention of the pie. 

“Awh yes, the pie he was practically eye fucking,” I said with a giggle. Her face scrunched together in disgust. 

“Okay first off, ew. Second off, I need you to make me a pie so I can try some,” she said. I shook my head. 

“How about for next week’s dinner I’ll make a pie? I’ll take a vote on what flavor.”

She clapped her hands excitedly. “Yay! Oh my god, then everyone gets to try your food! Which, everyone should be. This town is going to fall in love with you.”

I rolled my eyes with a smirk. “If you say so.”

Once the biscuits were done and cooled enough, we drove in Harlow’s car to Joel’s. When we got there, everyone else had already arrived. The house was bustling with talking and music, it pouring out through the open windows. I could smell something cooking, and whatever it was smelled amazing. As we walked through the front door we were met with a cacophony of greetings and cheers. 

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Ellie practically screamed, rushing over to hug me. She hit me with force, almost knocking me and the biscuits over. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Be careful with the lady handling the precious cargo!” Harlow told her. Ellie rolled her eyes, taking the basket out of my hand before going over and putting them on the kitchen island. I scanned the room and saw Joel in the kitchen cooking, at the counter Tommy was sitting next to a woman I hadn’t met before, and Ellie made her way back out to the porch. Harlow followed Ellie outside as I made my way into the kitchen. 

On the stovetop Joel was cooking what looked like a country fried steak. My eyes grew wide with excitement. Joel glanced at me. 

“What? Surprised you’re not the only one who can make stuff like this, miss professional?” he jeered, giving me another glance. I scoffed. 

“You’re such a shit. I’m just excited to have this, that’s all,” I told him. I turned to Tommy and gave him a smile and a small wave hello. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Violet,” he said, he nodded his head to motion me closer. “I want to introduce you to my fiancée Maria. Maria, this is Violet.”

Maria smiled, but flatly. I tried to not take it to heart, so I just moved on. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Violet,” she said, her smile still not fully genuine. 

“You, too.” 

The rest of the evening went well for the most part. I spent most of the night giggling and joking with Ellie and Harlow, Ellie being practically attached to my hip. But something felt weird because Joel hadn’t touched me once. The most was when he was handing me my plate of food and our fingers brushed. 

Maybe coming tonight wasn’t the best idea after all. 

After dinner we all ended up on the porch, enjoying the warm summer evening air. I kept catching glances from Joel, and every time I got flashes from the day before. I wish I knew what was going on in his head.

As the evening progressed further, somehow it ended up with just Maria and I outside together. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, nervous to be alone with her. I could tell she wasn’t my biggest fan, but I couldn’t figure out why. We had just met. What could I have done? 

“You know Violet, you’re not what I expected,” she said, keeping her eyes out on the horizon of trees. 

“Oh?” I asked cautiously, “how is that?” 

“Well, for one you’re a lot younger than I would have thought,” she said. Her words hit me like a knife, and I could feel heat rising in my chest.

“Why would you think that?” I questioned, knowing full well why. She turned to face me, her expression cold. 

“I was expecting Joel to be caught up with a woman, not a girl,” she stated. My eyes narrowed at her. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Violet, you strike me as a nice enough person. You seem smart, funny, and obviously someone who is more than capable of taking care of herself at such a young age,” she started, “that it genuinely confuses me what you’re doing with a man like Joel.” 

“Why does it matter to you?” I asked, my words like spitting fire, “What is it to you that I’m seeing someone older than I am?”

“Because it’s going to drag you down. Joel isn’t some young guy who can just go out on adventures with, have kids with, or even - what do you two talk about? You can’t have anything in common-”

I held a hand up to stop her from talking.

“Maria, I just need you to stop. You don’t know me. And obviously you don’t know Joel,” I told her. “And Joel is going to be your brother in law soon. How would he, or even Tommy, feel knowing you’re talking about Joel like this? Kindly Maria, fuck off.” 

Without another word I made my way back into the house, my chest aching with anger. When I got inside I tried my best to shove all of that down, not wanting anyone knowing something was wrong.

“Violet! Settle a debate for us,” Ellie practically shouted at me once I was inside. “In the song, is the farmer’s dog named Bingo, or is the farmer’s name Bingo?” 

A smile cracked on my lips, it defusing my rage a little. 

“It’s definitely the dog. Why would he mention the dog if it wasn’t the dog’s name. He would have just said his name was Bingo.” 

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “I TOLD YOU JOEL!” 

Joel held his hands up in defeat. “I stand corrected.” 

Soon after my talk with Maria’s, her and Tommy left. Thankfully. I felt like a weight had lifted off of my shoulders once I saw their truck drive away. I grabbed a beer from Joel’s fridge and headed back out to the porch to have a moment to collect myself. 

I leaned against the railing and let out a heavy sigh, hot tears spilling over my cheeks. Maria’s word hit home more than I wanted to admit. Bringing up stuff I thought I had healed from, or thought that I had gotten over. I didn’t realize anyone was outside with me until I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder.

“Hey,” I heard in Joel’s gruff voice. I turned to see Joel standing behind me, a soft expression on his face. 

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. I shook my head no, not wanting to to speak more and in turn cry more. Without another word Joel pulled me into an embrace and I broke down, my face nuzzling in his chest. I sighed a heavy sigh of relief, not realizing how badly I needed him to touch me until I was in his arms. He pet my hair and kissed the top of my head. My body just completely melted into him. 

“I’m sorry,” I muttered out. 

“No, no, you’re okay. Was it Maria?” he asked, his tone stern. I nodded against him. “Goddammit.”

I sniffed and pulled my head away to look up at him. “What?”

“I just- she keeps making comments to me about you, especially after the wedding and Tommy went home and told her about you. And how old you are. That’s why I didn’t personally invite you tonight and why I was kinda distant,” he told me. He had been trying to protect me from Maria. “I honestly never thought she’d have the gall to say anythin’ to your face. Once Harles takes Ellie home, I want you to tell me what she said, okay?” 

I nodded up at him. He cracked a sweet smile at me.  I felt him unwrap his arms from me and reach up to wipe the tears from my cheeks with the rough pads of his thumbs. 

“Thank you,” I said softly. He cradled my face in his hands, grinning down at me. 

Harlow and Ellie stayed for about an hour longer before they headed out. Ellie fell asleep on the couch, her head in my lap. I had been combing through her hair with my fingers. She snored softly, her body completely relaxing into the couch. 

“I’ll get her,” Joel mumbled. He got up from his spot on his chair and came over to us on the couch. I watched as he leaned down and scooped up Ellie with ease. He gave me a small wink as he stood back up. My heart leapt a little. 

“I’ll get the door,” I said, getting to my feet and rushing in front of them. I opened it and he passed through. Harlow came over and pulled me into a tight hug. When she was done, she held me by my shoulders at arm’s length. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, scanning my face. I nodded. 

“Yes, I’m okay.”

“You and Joel are okay-”

“Yes, Harlow. We’re okay,” I said reassuringly. She a gave me a smile before giving me another squeeze and left. I leaned against the doorframe and watched Harlow give Joel a hug. She swayed them back and forth for a moment before hopping into her car and driving away. I walked over to where Joel was standing and snaked my arm around his, leaning my cheek against his shoulder. We watched as Harlow’s car rounded the corner at disappear. With a squeeze from Joel’s hand headed back inside. 

He closed the door behind us and I turned around to face him. He motioned with his head for me to follow him. I nodded, following him as we ascended the stairs up to his bedroom. I was confused, but followed anyway. When we got to the top, Joel kicked his shoes off. I titled my head quizically as he climbed onto his bed, laying down with his head propped up on a pillow. He patted the mattress next to him, laying his arm out for me. 

I jokingly rolled my eyes as I hopped onto the bed, laying down next to him. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. I snuggled into him, trying to get as close as possible. But nothing felt close enough. I wrapped my one of my arms around his sturdy torso and nuzzled my face into his pec. 

“Okay now,” he started, wrapping his free arm around me as well, “what did Maria say?” 

I let out a heavy sigh before telling him what she said, and my response in turn. He stayed silent other than a few hums of acknowledgement for my words. When I was done, I felt his chest began to rise and fall rapidly. He was pissed. I moved so that I was propping myself up on my elbow, finally getting a good view of his face. 

His face was red and his jaw clenched, but there was something in his eyes that wasn’t anger - it was fear. I put a comforting hand on his chest. 

“Joel, I don’t want you-”

“Don’t want me to what?”

“I-I don’t know. Be mad about this? This upset?” I said. My heart began to beat rapidly in my chest. He sighed, looking up and finally meeting my eyes. There it was again, fear. 

“What are you afraid of, Joel?” I asked plainly. His eyes grew wide. He propped himself up so that he was face to face with me. 

“How do you know I’m afraid of something?” he asked, his eyes deep brown eyes scanning my face. 

“I don't know, I can just tell,” I said with a small shrug. He paused, scanning my face again, trying to get a read on me. 

“Some of the things Maria said hit a little too close to home,” he said. My face quickly changed, my brow knitting together. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. He sat the rest of the way up, leaning against the headboard. I also sat up, sitting with my legs criss crossed in front of him. 

“I mean, she’s right in a sense. I can’t give you those things,” he stated, not making eye contact with me again. 

“Like what?”

I heard him sniff, still not looking up at me. He didn’t say anything, just staying silent and looking at his lap. I got to my knees and knelt in front of him, reaching up to cradle his face in my hands. As I lifted his face to look at mine, tears fell down his cheeks. 

“Like what?” I asked again, but gentler this time, my voice just a whisper. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before he spoke. 

“Like a fun adventurous life,” he said, his voice getting more confident as he spoke, “and well, children.” 

The word stung, and I could tell he knew. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with him yet, but I guess I didn’t have a choice now. 

We stared at each other for a beat. Neither of us wanted to be the first person to say something on the topic. 

“I know about Sarah.” 

Joel’s eyes got bigger at my statement. 

“H-How?” he asked, searching my face for an answer. 

“Harlow told me earlier today,” I mumbled out. Joel rubbed his face with his hands, hotly wiping away tears. 

“So, you know about the accident?” he asked. I nodded with a hum. 

“I-I don’t know what to say Joel,” I said, tears swelling behind my eyes. 

He shook his head. “You don’t have to say anythin’. I mean, you were going to find out eventually. I just-I just don’t know how to bring it up to people. And I don’t really like to talk about it…”

I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “I mean, that’s understandable. I don’t love talking about how I can’t have children…”

Joel’s face went from sad to concern. 

“Wait, what?”

“Um, yeah. I can’t have kids. I found out about three years ago,” I told him. His brow furrowed together more, my answer not what he was wanting. 

“But - why? How?” he asked. 

“Um, it wasn’t like a huge or traumatic thing. My menstrual cycle got weird like five years back, weirder than normal. I stopped having one regularly, only every couple of months. So I went to the doctor and they did ultrasounds and blood tests and CT scans and all that. They found that I had something wrong with the way my reproductive organs developed and its in a way that makes it so I can’t have kids. Like, even if I wanted to try and get pregnant, I couldn’t,” I told him, my eyes glossing over a little the more I spoke. 

Joel reached out to take my hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze. 

“Vi, that is traumatic. Your choice was taken away. I know what it’s like to have something taken away from you without you getting any say in the matter,” he said, giving me a half-hearted smile with tears in his eyes. 

I felt like my heart was going to burst. I bit at my bottom lip, trying to contain whatever feelings were going on inside of me. 

“Thank you,” I said softly. Joel reached forward and pulled me into his lap. I nuzzled my face into his neck as he enveloped me in his arms. We sat there in a comfortable silence for a bit and his hold on me never relaxed.

He held me tightly, and I could tell we both needed this. We needed someone to understand listen to and hear our traumas, that’s it. Not try to fix it, or feel sorry for the other person. Just to hold a place for each other’s baggage, taking the heavy load off of the other’s shoulder. Being vulnerable wasn’t something I was fond of, especially with someone like Joel. 

“Joel?” I asked, my voice coming out in just a whimper. 

“Hmm?”

“What happened with Sarah? And Lucas?” I asked as gently as I could. I heard him sigh.

“Um,” he started, his voice shaky, “we were headed to get a bite to eat after the girl’s had a soccer game, for my birthday. Everything was totally fine, until I drove through an intersection. Our light was green, the drunk fuck who hit us, did not. He hit the passenger side and flipped the car over. Thankfully Harlow got knocked out on impact, I’m so glad she didn’t have to see what I did. 

“There was glass everywhere, blood. I won’t go into the details, but Sarah died on impact. Lucas tried to hold on, but he died on the way to the hospital. I still will never understand how Harlow and I made it out with a couple head injuries and broken bones.”

I looked up at him in awe. How someone could go through that, losing his best friend and his only child on his birthday no less, and still go on every day. I couldn’t imagine. He and Harlow were far stronger than I could have ever imagined. 

I reached a hand up to Joel’s cheek, and he relaxed into my touch. He turned his head to look down at me, our eyes meeting. We held our gaze on each other for a moment, and before I knew it Joel’s lips were crashing down onto mine. At first, his mouth was just needy, but then it quickly turned heated. He began pulling me closer, but I stopped him. He rested his forehead against mine, both of us out of breath. 

“Joel, as much as I want to do that more than anything-”

“Now is not the time, no I know,” he cut me off, finishing my sentence. I cradled his face in my hands, his face now masked with disappointment. 

“I cannot wait to fuck you senseless, Joel,” I said in a matter of fact tone, “but right now after all of the emotions I’ve had over the last 24 hours, I want nothing more than for you to hold me until I fall asleep. Can you do that for me?” 

A smile cracked in the corner of his mouth and he nodded. 

“I can do that.”

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x oc #no outbreak au #no outbreak!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #pedro pascal fanfiction

[lumiereswig]

Imagine if Plumiere were not affected by the curse; the only ones in the Castle. Would they leave or stay there?

oh SHIT I dont know anon. (also you also sent this ages ago so oops, sorry aobut that.) it's a good question!! I think they would probably attempt to hook up some kind of traveling wagon—which is more difficult than it looks because they have to figure out which of the now-sentient wagons in the stables used to be horses and which are just getting in on the game thanks to Agathe's messy spellmaking—and dedicate themselves solely to Finding Prince Adam a Bride, ie, being Peddlers of Love who go to town to town trying to invest the local maidens in essentially a blind-date Hinge experience with a man whose entire dating profile is a series of beast-shaped flags. There would be much displaying of former portraits of the prince, heavy salesmanship for his good dancing skills and sizable inheritance, and last-ditch attempts by both Lumiere and Plumette to flirt the maidens into the wagon where they can then be hauled back for ~the ultimate Love Island Palace experience~. Essentially, get in our sketchy caravan and you might get a prince out of this. We Promise We Are Not Shitting You, We Are This Desperate, Listen If You Get in the Wagon We'll Give You Croissants is essentially the business slogan.

needless to say absolutely 0 of these attempts work

#plumiere #beauty and the beast 2017 #beauty and the beast #batb fanfic #batb 2017 #they DO get several girls to go back with them! but between a) the giant monster and 2) cogsworth correcting their grammar none of them sta #(lumiere and plumette add to their already sizable fuckbuddy rolodex though) #asks

[tadahoni]

Reaching for Something

Request (responded to separately): Got super excited when I saw you opened requests again, so I wanted to make one! This is a RSASTD Merlin x Fem!reader request. On WattPad, I read your story “Something Wonderful” and it was really good! The canon ending really got me thinking though. At the end of the movie, when Regina dies, all her magic and stuff like that gets reversed. So, wouldn’t that mean F7 gets their memories of reader back? I like the theory of this, and if possible, I’d love to see it written! Hope this isn’t trouble

SUMMARY: Merlin is finally living his happily ever after with the most beautiful woman in the world, but after the spell is broken and his memories reappear, there is someone on his mind...

A/N: I'm going to base this off of my story on Wattpad, check it out! Also I wasn't entirely sure how Snow White would fit into this, because I love her so very much and I want her to be happy, but also Merlin. Sooooo... read to find out?!

Never in his life did Merlin ever think he'd be in his house, with his beautiful wife, and wondering if it was right.

Now, don't get him wrong, he loved Snow White to the end of the earth. She loved him for him, and he for her. But memories were flooding in.

And they weren't working in Snow's favor.

Not only had Merlin started to regain consciousness of Y/N, but he remembered everything about Snow's dad.

This had to have been some sort of setup.

It had finally occurred to Merlin that although he though Snow White was, in fact, the most beautiful person in the world, he couldn't bear to continue living with this thought in his head. He sat Snow White down one night to talk. He told her about everything he had remembered, about what his father-in-law had done to him, and about Y/N.

As perfect as she was, so was her response. She was incredibly understanding, and felt anger towards her father for the things he had done to her husband. She understood if he felt trapped in this marriage, and gave the option of divorce. He was floored by how quickly she had becoming understanding of the situation. But she finally admitted something that made everything make sense.

She had fallen in love with his best friend.

Jack was still living with them in the house, and the close proximity of the two drew them closer. Nothing had happened between them yet, but Snow White made it clear that she had in fact fallen out of love with Merlin.

The divorce was mutual, and Jack made it clear that he still loved the two even if he was essentially the driving force between them. But they knew King White wouldn't be happy about this at all. His daughter marrying into a cursed lineage? No dice.

They made a plan.

Jack and Snow White would remarry on a ship to France, where they would move and declare zero passage to anybody with papers from Fairy Tale Island, excluding the Fearless Seven, of course.

They proposed this to Merlin one night. "That's a great plan, you two. I think that will work nicely." The two gave him a look. "What?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "We want you to come with us," Snow White stated. "And," Jack continued. "We think you should bring Y/N home." It had suddenly occurred to Merlin the real reason why he had gone through the life-changing divorce in the first place. Jack's long lost sister, the thief of Fairy Tale Island.

His true love.

First, he had to find her.

Merlin honestly thought it would be much harder to find the woman he loved, but he actually found her within the first try as he entered Hans's bakery. The redhead was behind the counter, serving a customer a chocolate croissant when he noticed Merlin enter the shop. He looked like he was about to jump out of his nonexistent seat.

"Merlin!!!" He ran over and gave the man a hug as the customer left the building. When the coast was clear, Hans pulled away and whispered: "I heard about you and Snow White from Jack, is everything okay?" "Yeah, everything has been figured out, but that's actually what I came here to talk to you about." Hans pulled a chair out by the bar that was stationed by his workplace for Merlin to sit in. He then placed a plate in front of him with a buttered croissant on top. Merlin could feel his heart skip a beat. "Just like Y/N loved." His head whipped to look ahead at Hans, leaning against the bar. He knew. He remembered. "Is she..." "She's upstairs. I've been keeping her safe in my apartment, selling her maps in the shop for some extra cash for her. She never left the island, she couldn't leave you behind." Merlin paused. There was no way that she would want to see him right now. After he had pushed her away at the door, after he had married the daughter of the man who locked her away. There were a thousand questions running through his head, but Hans seemed to know, because he said: "She wants to see you." "Does she?" "She knows what happened to you. She knows your memory was erased, and once she heard about your divorce, she knew it must have been related to either her or King White's influence on the situation." Merlin gingerly stood, blinking at Hans as if he were asking a favor. Hans nodded, walked to the door of the bakery, and flipped the sign to closed before leading him upstairs.

"You're going to have to be quick about this if you want to make it to France before anyone finds out. I'll be downstairs to reopen. Be smart." Hans left Merlin to search the apartment for his lost love, and that proved to be anxiety-spiking for the man. He checked doors, peeked in closets, nothing. But as soon as hope was fleeting for Merlin, he heard the window open. The man stood back to allow Y/N to enter the apartment without getting startled. He watched her elegantly enter the window, reach up, and close it. Then she turned to face him.

She hadn't changed. The knife she was holding, most likely for safety, clattered to the ground. The girl in front of him was frozen, her expression unreadable. Merlin was unable to find the words until they slipped from his mouth:

"Love..."

As if he had given her permission, Y/N ran towards Merlin and nearly tackled him into a kiss, in which he gladly accepted. The passion and love that had been bottled into Y/N throughout the past year as well as the satisfaction of finally seeing the woman Merlin loved again was put into the kiss, so much so that Merlin had accidentally slammed Y/N into the wall, putting his hands on either side of her face.

A quiet, yet firm thumping interrupted the two. "Be smart!"

Merlin glanced from the floor back to Y/N, whose face was pink from blush. "Broom," she said simply. "He gets me with that when I'm too loud up here." "How did I ever live this past year without you in my mind?" The two stared at one another once again, then pulled each other close into an embrace.

It took approximately five minutes for Merlin to catch Y/N up on everything in his life, and once he was sure he finished, he looked at her nervously.

“We need to leave, and I want you to come with me.”

She raised her eyebrows im surprise, blinking twice, then putting her thumb to her teeth to nibble on the nail nervously.

“You don’t need to decide now, just sometime within-“

“I’ll go.”

Well, that was much easier than Merlin though it would be.

“This past year of my life has been hell, and it’s all because I’ve been without you.” She looked up and him, determination gracing her features. “I won’t risk losing you again.”

Merlin smiled and nodded, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on the knuckle.

“We leave tomorrow.”

#merlin red shoes #merlin #red shoes and the seven dwarves #rsatsd #rsat7d #merlin x reader

[ranty-ramblestein]

(captions~) July 2nd: I decided to swap around Axel's Lillies, since the red ones seemed weird next to his blue house. I winded up with double yellow flowers thanks to the wedding roses, heh. I didn't feel like removing them, though.

July 13th: I accidentally knocked some apples down, and Raymond's reponse to the random fruit gift made me laugh, heh!

July 14th: New Raymond saying! I just really wanted to get rid of 'anti-crypto', but I kinda panicked, haha.

July 15th: Cyd hosted Croissant's birthday again! Kinda wish Raymond had been among the guests, though...

Aug 1st: I actually messed with terraforming for the first time in a while! I just trimmed some of the bulge in front of Redd's Beach because I remember the path back there being kind of tight to get through when I enter through the left. Even finally put up a moon chair~

And finally, the change to Spring on August 25th: Croissant's outfit changes are now... I wanna say seasonal, but that's not quite right, heh.

This time he's dressed to the nines for his Tropical Vacation! I also wanted to use a Musical Idle-Tool again~

pic 1: Red and blue next to each other seemed weird to me. pic 2: "Actually, I just kinda knocked down an apple by accident, heh..." Croissant admitted, embarrassed. pic 3: "No, if your stomach is rumbling, eat it right now!" Croissant insisted. pic 4: I literally could not touch this snowball unless I (re)moved one of the items surrounding it, heh. pic 5: I kinda panicked… pic 6: Croissant's Birthday~! pic 7: Finally decided to use the Crescent Moon Chair in Croissant's Storage! pic 9: "AUGH! This heat is killing me!" Croissant groaned, quickly going inside and starting the air conditioner before shedding his outer layers. pic 10: "Oh yeah, this is /way/ better!" Croissant sighed happily, sitting in the cool air for a bit… It took him a while to remember the tree hunt. pic 11: The return to a musical Idle-Tool~

#Animal Crossing #Animal Crossing: New Horizons #Island Man Croissant #Solaceon Island

[theelfmaid]

FORBIDDEN - Father Paul Hill/John Pruitt fanfiction

Chapter 1 - Mystic Brews

Words: 1588

In the peaceful and secluded town of Crockett Island, where the sound of breaking waves and the aroma of salty air filled the atmosphere, the arrival of a new priest brought a sense of renewed faith to the community. Father Paul Hill, a man of gentle temperament and unwavering devotion, had been assigned as the new priest at Saint Patrick's Parish. Little did he know that his life was about to take an unexpected turn.

At the heart of the island, hidden among charming streets and picturesque buildings, stood a cozy coffee shop called "Mystic Brews." Run by a mysterious woman named Isabella, it was a place where locals and visitors sought comfort in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, stuffed pastries, and other delights that only this place had the privilege to savor. Unknown to the rest of the world, Isabella was no ordinary woman. She was a witch, endowed with magical abilities that she kept well-hidden from prying eyes. Therefore, her personality was marked by professionalism and introversion when it came to personal conversations.

That day was marked by the presence of the new priest, who had come to replace Monsignor Pruitt, who was unable to return to Crockett Island due to his delicate health condition. Mystic Brews quickly filled up with a few faithful followers who came directly from Saint Patrick's, as they were frequent customers. Even though the number was small, the cozy coffee shop welcomed them with open doors, as the demand was not as high as in the big city. But Jane managed the place with ease, as there were not many expenses and she perfectly controlled the supplies.

As the time passed, the number of people in the coffee shop gradually decreased, which was quite usual. Sometimes she received orders that she delivered before the lunch hour, when Mystic Brews had no clientele.

Standing behind the counter, putting some croissants in the display case that had just come out of the oven, Jane finished her little task while waiting for lunchtime to close the coffee shop and make her deliveries around the Island. A sound interrupted her lost gaze at the floor and led her directly to the laptop, which was signaling a FaceTime call.

"Sasha," she pronounced the name that shone on the screen, while checking the Wi-Fi before answering to make sure the call wouldn't drop this time.

"Hi! Finally, Jane, this island's Wi-Fi is terrible. I almost sent you a letter; I might have received a reply before managing to make a call with you," Sasha laughed, taking the phone with her as she walked down the street.

"Wow, a new way to say I live at the end of the world," Jane rolled her eyes with a smile, adjusting the webcam so that Sasha could see her better.

Sasha agreed, pursing her lips, as she had no shame in voicing her opinion about her younger sister's life, and Jane pretended to care about the criticisms, but deep down, she didn't care at all about pleasing her sister. The young witch knew that Sasha followed the strict and intrusive steps of their mother.

"I'm sorry, J. But you know this place is the end of the world," Sasha admitted. "I think even the countryside would be less difficult to live in. A weirdly named island that smells like fish and is sinking further into misery."

Jane could be offended, but she chose to focus her annoyance on the place itself and the people who lived there, some of whom she had grown to like. Erin Greene, her dear friend, was one of them.

"I don't know how you manage to keep this book cafe running without sinking into debt and everything else," her older sister commented.

Jane took a deep breath, hoping her mind wouldn't be disturbed by the thoughtless words her sister so casually uttered without considering their impact. The gods knew that she wouldn't want those words to be overheard by any island resident, even though they were used to criticisms, or by her eight-year-old daughter, Matilda. The little girl had taken a liking to the place since they arrived a few months ago.

"I managed one of the Mystic Brews branches in Chicago, so cut me some slack. This was our grandmother's project and dream in her youth, before she came here to live with our grandfather. But she loved this place just as much, and she loved the people here. I'm proud to fulfill my part in her will and use it to escape the city and build her dream in the place she loved. This isn't the original Mystic Brews, but it certainly has Millie's essence." Jane wisely replied to her sister, silencing her for a moment to reflect on her thoughtless judgments.

"I understand, J," Sasha mumbled. "But I imagined you would want to pursue bigger ambitions before settling in a place like this that has nothing for you or Tilda."

Jane sighed.

"Matilda is happy here, she has few friends, but she helps me a lot. And she has a home surrounded by the ocean, trees, and books. Since the internet access is a disaster," Jane laughed. "But I see that it's enough for now. Away from the city's noise, from the hustle and bustle... from Howie..."

"And from her family," Sasha completed.

Jane sighed.

"Not from her family," Sasha. "We do the best we can-"

Jane's argument was cut off by the ringing of a bell coming from the door, announcing the entrance of a new customer. She looked up to see the tall, slender, and timid figure of a man with dark hair and a white collar around his neck.

He was a priest.

"Morning...! Hello," he smiled timidly, entering the place, carrying a leather bag and wearing a gray cardigan.

Jane corrected her posture, feeling a little awkward due to the unexpected presence. She gave a courteous smile.

"Hi! Welcome, feel free to make yourself comfortable, Father."

He alternated his gaze between her and some empty tables, taking a seat, still feeling shy as the place was new and quiet.

"Work is calling you!" Sasha said amidst the buzzing of the city, as she was still walking on the street during the video call.

Jane promptly turned her attention back to her sister, giving her a nod with a forced smile before ending the call. She stepped down from the stool behind the counter and slowly made her way to the jukebox.

The priest looked curiously from his seat at the surroundings. The plants, the organized and displayed books for customers' reading, the pastries in the showcase, the smell of coffee from the machine – all of it gave him a sense of being at home.

In the background, he heard the jukebox's volume rise as the music began, and now Mystic Brews was less quiet and more inviting than it had seemed before. He watched in silence, a gentle smile on his face, as the young woman glided in her boots toward the counter and him, holding a menu in her hands.

"Maybe you already have something in mind to order, but still, I'll leave the menu with you to check out the options, in case you want something different from the usual and simple: coffee," she handed it to him, and he thanked her with a nod.

"Oh, thank you. The place is very inviting; I understand now why the parishioners spoke so highly of it," Father Paul Hill smiled, glancing over the menu. "I'm Father Paul Hill, by the way. I've come to temporarily replace Monsignor John Pruitt."

Jane vaguely remembered the figure of Monsignor, but not as much, as he had left Crockett Island shortly before she had noticed.

"Ah, yes, a figure of great influence here on the island. But I only knew him by sight," she replied.

Father Paul Hill furrowed his brow. "Really? You didn't attend his Masses?" he asked carefully.

Jane hesitated, but she answered, "I'm not a churchgoer, exactly... Well, I don't go to church. I don't believe in..."

He adjusted his posture, arching his eyebrows, and Jane imagined she had made Father Paul uncomfortable with her pagan and unbelieving presence.

"Forgive me," Father Paul said politely, surprising her. Forgive? "I couldn't have imagined, of course. But I shouldn't have assumed you had to be religious..."

Jane promptly reassured him, "It's alright, Father. I understand that such assumptions are common on an island where the heart lies in the Parish."

He smiled gently, nodding his head to look at the menu again and order something to satisfy his hunger.

"Well, I'll have the coffee..." He looked at Jane and let out a nearly inaudible laugh. "A croissant with salted caramel, and toast with egg and oregano. Please..."

"Jane,"

"Yes, yes... Jane," He said sweetly "Please, Jane."

The atmosphere was now calm and more relaxed. He watched Jane nod in agreement and leave to prepare his order. Father Paul took out his sacred book, a notepad, and a pen from his bag. With Neil Diamond's "Holly Holy" playing from the jukebox, he felt less anxious, now casually at peace in the presence of his thoughts, all focused on his future sermons. The aroma of coffee and fresh eggs filled the air.

Jane observed him curiously, happy to have another customer, especially someone who seemed pleasant and new to the place.

In the back of the coffee shop, behind some shelves, huddled and curious, was a little something with eyes fully fixated on the newly arrived figure of Father Paul Hill.

Jane's calm and melodious voice resounded, "Matilda...? Where are you, dear?"

AN: Thank you for reading my fanfiction with John Pruitt. Hopes you enjoy it and stay here, bexause it'll be more. Like and reblog if you like it, I'll love to know your opinion.

#father paul hill #father paul #monsignor pruitt #hamish linklater #paul hill #john pruitt #father john pruitt #midnight mass #fanfic #Spotify

[inkie80]

https://www.tumblr.com/inkie80/741644758647177216/that-weird-sun-article-that-was-taken-down-and

Any idea what happened around the U2 show? Do you think Harry shaving his head was for a reason involving the stunt/sphere stuff?

I think shaving his head was cathartic for him. I remember him saying he would take a shower after shows to wash all the energy off himself so he can ground himself and sleep well. It's said that hair holds memories and energy and that's why people tend to cut their hair after a breakup or huge, often times negative, life experiences. I think whatever happened during that time and everything since 2020 as well, caught up to him. I must say I'm relieved he shaved his head instead of doing anything stupid and dangerous. Hair will grow back.

I absolutely don’t believe he did it to stay hidden 🙄

Man walks around in his puffer jacket, beanie on and shorts. Everyone who is a fan recognizes him by his legs, so shaving his head to stay hidden makes zero sense, when you walk around with a beanie or cap.

And chilling on holiday, everyone knows those tattoos so chilling on the beach and thinking no one will recognize you because your hair is short makes no sense to me.

I think it is more personal for him to shave his head, and the reason will only be guessing for us. And like you said it will grow back.

I think they used it in the pr-relationship to pretend he was doing it for her to stay hidden and enjoy their relationship. ( I mean no one recognizes her )because after the possible BUA the first thing we got was an article from her side only mentioning she is Harry’s gf. And later we saw him in Vancouver pretending to bond with her family 🙄

I also rolled my eyes at that, because they made up a story of them on some island resort in an article with no pics. And NOBODY mentioned the buzzcut what he should have had then! And after that we knew he had a buzzcut and he was seen in Vancouver And not with his head shaved but all packed up so make it make sense.

And also if I would go to my family which I don’t see on a regular basis I would NOT go walk around in town going shopping for a fucking croissant, but I would actually bond with my family since I have to leave them soon again.

So no I don’t think it has anything to do with the stunt, that was all Harry and the reason he did it will stay a mystery until he tells us.

[morelknov]

The Underneath: A Prologue of Sorts

A couple of months ago I wrote a little urban fantasy AU thing for one of the Greed Island challenges and it kind of...turned into more. This is the initial thing I wrote, and I’ll be posting another thing I wrote for this latest challenge soon!

Fourteen Years Ago

Knuckle Bine ran down the alleyway, pursued by a man who wanted to eat him. 

Well, drink his blood. Either way, he didn't want to become dinner on his first night down here. 

He stepped into a deep pothole filled with water and tripped. Tried to scramble away, but a clawed hand wrapped around his ankle.

"I keep tellin' ya, I'm not fully human!" 

"I saw you walking around in the daylight," the man hissed. "And you smell human." 

Knuckle kicked and yelled at the top of his lungs. No use. 

The man bit into his forearm, began to drink his blood…

And pulled back with a howl. 

"...Told ya," Knuckle said as he watched the flesh melt off the man's skull. He pulled down his sleeve, pressed it to his bleeding arm, and took off down the alleyway. 

—

Morel made his way through the winding streets of the Underneath, to the back alley where a vampire…corpse (could it be considered a corpse, since vampires were already dead?) lay in the faint glow of a streetlight. 

The cop shot him a look of disgust but stepped aside nonetheless. The Fae Courts ruled the city, and no one could refuse a Knight of the Summer Court. 

A chill prickled down the back of his neck, and Morel grinned despite himself. 

"So the Winter Court's interested too?" 

"I wouldn't say they're interested in investigating so much as obligated to do so," Knov said as he stepped into view. He dismissed a sheet of ice which served as his portal with a wave of his hand. "The Night King won't leave the matter alone." 

"Sounds about right. The Summer Court isn't obligated to investigate, but quite interested in the matter." 

Knov let out a huff close to a laugh. "I thought your Court was all about peace and coexistence." 

Morel shrugged. "Sometimes the only way to keep an alliance intact is to keep a weapon in your back pocket." 

"And you think whatever did this could be that weapon," Knov said as he bent down and picked up the skull with a gloved hand. "Makes sense." 

Morel watched Knov examine the scene. As a Knight of the Winter Court, he often ended up in the same places as Morel. They were both half human, useful for their ability to go places and perform tasks full blood fae could not. Useful kept them in a job and alive. 

They also ended up at the same places, investigating incidents for their respective courts…not entirely by coincidence. 

"Want to see if I can track them?" Morel asked as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. 

"That would be helpful, yes." Knov placed the skull back where he'd found it. "I have an idea of what we're dealing with." 

Morel took a deep drag of the cigarette and breathed out smoke. It formed a pool near the deceased vampire's skull, then drifted down the alleyway. "And what do you think that is?" 

Knov dusted off his gloves. "Part of the skull dissolved, starting at the teeth. Our unfortunate friend bit into someone who seemed human, but whose blood is acidic to vampires." 

—

Knuckle dug through the bakery dumpster and pulled out a stale loaf of bread, a half-eaten chocolate croissant, and some cheese that he knew would be fine as long as he scraped the mold off first. 

He took the food a bit further up the alley and hid in an alcove. Wondered why he'd come down here to begin with, and remembered he couldn't go back above ground. Things would be just as bad if he tried to go home. 

("That thing isn't my son!" His dad–no, not his dad after all–yelled as he grabbed an empty bottle and threw it at Knuckle. "You're a monster! Get out of my sight! Get out of my house!") 

As if Knuckle could help the circumstances of his parentage. Tears leaked from his eyes and he wiped them on his sleeve as he gnawed on the stale loaf of bread. 

Feels good to have food at least, he thought. 

A creature (Knuckle assumed it was a dog. Maybe.) walked up to him and lay down next to him. It was warm and furry, and while it didn't look like a typical dog, Knuckle was grateful for the company. 

Fog drifted through the alleyway as Knuckle ate. 

Not fog, he thought. Smoke. But it doesn't move like regular smoke.

Knuckle stood and pressed himself against the wall, all thoughts of food forgotten. He held his breath. He heard footsteps, and then voices. The dog slipped away through a crack that seemed much too small to fit its body. 

"This is where the trail ends." 

Two men, both tall. One thin, dressed in dark clothes. Beautiful, but in a way that made Knuckle's heart clench in fear. The other man was well-built in lighter clothes. His size made him scary. 

Something solidified and grabbed Knuckle, dragging him out into the light. 

—

Morel turned when his smoke presented the target to him, like a dog displaying a favorite toy. 

"What the hell? He's just a kid." 

"Lemme go! If you drink my blood you'll die like the last guy!" 

"We're not vampires," Knov said. "Will you behave yourself if I have my…friend here put you down?" 

The boy nodded. Morel deactivated his magic, the kid dropped to the ground…and immediately took off running. 

"I'll get him." Knov summoned a sheet of ice at the end of the alleyway and the boy fell through and back at their feet. 

"The hell was that?" 

"Magic," Morel said. "Most everyone in this place can use some form of it. How long have you been down here, kid?" 

"My whole life!" 

"A lie," Knov said. "Don't make me Compel you to tell the truth." 

"Fine, I got down here yesterday, because well…I thought I was human until then. I can't go back home, and apparently people wanna eat me down here…I don't wanna hurt anyone, I promise!" 

Knov gnawed the inside of his cheek. Of course this mission had to be difficult. He could already feel the headache coming on. 

"Morel. A moment. You stay right where you are," he told the boy, and put a bit of his power behind it. 

"The Night Court will want him dead," Knov said. He switched to feytongue, as to not let the boy overhear them. 

"We can't kill a kid!" Morel replied. "He hasn't done anything wrong." 

"They don't care if he killed one of their kind on purpose. He's dangerous by virtue of the fact he exists at all. Half vampire. Half human." 

"The kid's a dhampir?" 

"Correct," Knov said. "And vampires don't look upon half human offspring the same way the fae do. We're nothing if not useful to our fae progenitors and that's all that matters. Dhampirs are the embodiment of vampire weaknesses, down to the blood that runs in their veins." 

"Still," Morel replied. He looked over at the kid, and Knov could tell Morel had already made up his mind. "They can't have him."

I love yet curse that nobility of yours, Knov thought. "And what would you propose instead?" 

Morel shrugged. "I take him in under the protection of my title and standing in the court." 

—

#morel hxh #knov hxh #knuckle bine #urban fantasy au #there is also of course morelknov if you squint or open your third eye

[laporcupina]

I get distracted by set design and costume quirks -- or, why I can’t rewatch Captain America: the Winter Solder without staring at the hanger bumps on Sam’s green shirt. And so while everyone else was enjoying the big scene with Buck and Eddie, I was staring at the grill in the background wondering how a firefighter could think that was an acceptable situation. And then half a season later noticing that the grill had been moved when I should have been noting the significance and meaning of the Buckley Siblings’ conversation.

Anyone who has followed me since my days of trying to make SGA make sense will be utterly shocked to know that my one-off joke that was supposed to accompany a tumblr picture post went 2k words.

Medium Rare

2100 words | Buck, Eddie, etc.

---

When Buck signs the lease on the loft, Ali is there with him and so he doesn’t really count her as the first guest when she shows up the next day with cinnamon coffee and chocolate croissants because she knows he spent the night in the loft on an air mattress.  

Maddie is the second person he invited – counting the 118 as a collective first – and she might’ve gotten upset about that, but she is the first one to actually turn up, so what she doesn’t know won’t get brought up for the next twenty years. Maddie brings champagne – actual champagne from France, not sparkling wine from up the coast – and bread and salt because she read about it somewhere. They sit at the kitchen island and she congratulates him on moving on from Abby and admires the big windows with lots of light and asks him if he needs blackout curtains for the loft and if those would even darken the place enough to sleep firefighter hours. He doesn’t know – he hasn’t had to sleep here during the day yet – and didn’t think about that at all before he signed the lease. He gives himself bonus points for not asking if she did think about it because of Chimney because that would be deflecting and Buck 2.0 is a better man.  

“I’m proud of you,” she tells him as he hugs him goodbye. “I hope this place makes you happy.”  

Eddie turns up with beer and Christopher and makes a crack about his girlfriends picking out his living spaces, but thinks the place is nice until they go out onto the balcony.  

“You are going to have to cut back those leaves before you use the grill,” Eddie says, gesturing to the far end of the balcony with his beer bottle while steering Christopher and his cup of grapes to the nearest chair. “Even with propane, one flare-up and your home life is going to become your work life.”

Buck honestly forgot about the grill. It came with the place, conveying with the kitchen island chairs and the balcony furniture, and he hasn’t given it a thought since he first realized it was there. When he says as much to Eddie, it’s like he’s just confessed to eating his breakfast cereal with tequila instead of milk.  

“Even Dad grills,” Christopher says between grapes and that’s just a straight-up homicide.  

Eddie is pretty open about his lack of cooking expertise. He can cook the basics and Chris doesn’t live on chicken nuggets and fries, but Eddie buys salad in bags and microwaveable Minute Rice when he’s not reheating the food his grandmother and aunt drop off a couple of times a week. Which Buck really shouldn’t feel superior about because three years ago he wasn’t able to feed himself, let alone provide for a child’s nutritional needs, but that was eons ago and now he thinks iceberg lettuce is the last resort of the desperate. Still, for all of Eddie’s reliance on semi-homemade culinary hacks and the kindness of more competent family, he can somehow work a grill to the point that Bobby gave him a turn with the tongs at the last Grant-Nash barbecue.  

Neither Diaz considers grilling to count as cooking, however, and so Chris is really calling him an idiot.  

(“I’m from West Texas,” had been Eddie’s explanation the first time he’d been asked about the contradiction between being unable to stir-fry but being able to gauge meat doneness by touch and without a thermometer. “We’re supposed to know good mesquite from bad before the match ignites. If a guy can’t work a grill by the time he finishes high school, they geld him so he doesn’t pass on defective genes.” And he’d mimicked a scissor with his fingers to emphasize the point.)  

The trees from the neighbor’s balcony are just starting to peek over the divider and, yeah, he would need to cut those back if he had any plans to use the grill. But he really doesn’t. He spends an awkward few minutes explaining to both Diazes that he’s never been expected to learn how to grill and so he doesn’t. Which is a lie, but it’s easier than explaining the truth. The Northeast and Mid-Atlantic don’t have the barbecue tradition that Texas does, no, but families with backyards have grills and that’s how families spend their summers cooking dinner. At least normal families. If the Buckleys had been any kind of normal, Buck would have learned how to use a grill because it would have been part of his informal training in how to be a man and then a husband. But the Buckleys weren’t any kind of normal and so his father had created an island of solitude around his Weber and Buck doesn’t even know how to start a propane grill, let alone make a cooking fire from charcoal. He likes grilled food – anything that came off a parilla during his bartending days down in South America was amazing – but he treats it like he treats patisserie, something that requires skills he will never possess.  

Neither Eddie nor Christopher are quite willing to buy what he’s selling, but neither of them have any idea where to start to pick holes in his story, so when Chris gets distracted by the view of the city it’s easy enough to shove the grill into the background where it belongs.  

Eddie leaves an introduction-to-grilling book in Buck’s locker a month later. It has post-its on some of the pages which means Eddie’s read it and has notes.  

“I’ll make you a deal,” Buck says, holding up the book. “I’ll buy the meat and the beer, you teach.”  

Eddie makes a face. “I’ll buy the meat because I don’t trust you. You will get better beer than your usual swill.”  

Eddie isn’t so much a beer snob as someone with a paranoid suspicion of IPAs. Which Buck thinks is ridiculous and he’s secure enough in his masculinity to like things extra-hoppy.  

They don’t set a date, secure in the knowledge that it will happen at some point. Eddie is still technically a probie, but he’s become such an integral part of the 118 in general and in Buck’s life in particular that Buck considers his presence a given and a constant and forgets that he wasn’t around for things like Buck 1.0.

Except their barbecue date doesn’t happen.  

First it’s just complicated with Ali’s schedule and then Shannon’s back in the picture and then Shannon’s dead and then Buck’s under a truck and then there’s a tsunami and a blood clot and a lawsuit and Fight Club and... and.  

And then there’s a plague.  

And then there’s an Ana and then there’s a bullet and then there’s a chasm between them that an afternoon of flank steak and beer can’t gap. And somewhere in there is a Taylor and it’s not that Buck is unaware that she is not who he needs, but she’s what he needs as his world falls apart and that counts more than anyone else seems to understand. Maddie leaves and then Chimney follows and then Eddie... Eddie doesn’t just leave. Eddie shrinks his life down to a tiny pebble and it nearly destroys him, which Buck needs his own therapist to convince him wasn’t Eddie’s actual intent from the start.  

He betrays Taylor first by kissing Lucy and then by over-correcting without giving her any context for what he was doing until it was too late. He tells himself he’s willing to put in the work to make amends, to give Taylor what she needs and what she deserves, but he knows he’s doing it for the wrong reasons and he isn’t brave enough to do anything about it. He’s afraid and he’s acting out of fear because it’s the sniper all over again and he’ll still take the bullet to keep from losing anyone else.  

He helps Eddie put himself back together, keeps Chris from falling apart, gives Taylor enough to make the hurt dim in her eyes. Maddie and Chim and Jee come home and, after the last couple of years, Buck is willing to take “everyone is safe” over “happily ever after” because that’s just a fairy tale.  

Taylor’s betrayal isn’t less personal because it’s not cheating. He’d have been able to forgive her if she’d kissed someone else, even if she’d slept with someone else. But this is a betrayal of his family, the one he’d die to protect, and he can’t forgive her for that. But he also can’t break up with her for the same reasons he hasn’t been able to break up with her any of the previous times. Instead, he wants her to see why he’s so upset, waits for the recognition if not the recognizance he knows she can’t give him. If she could just see how much this hurt him... he could live with that. It would not be sufficient, but it would be enough.  

And then Eddie listens to him worry about Bobby and his inability to fix this mess when he feels like he’s the reason it happened, jokes about holes in his walls, and then goes and fixes it for him. Neither Bobby nor Eddie will say that anything happened, let alone what happened. But Buck knows that Eddie went to go talk to Bobby “about stuff” and he knows Bobby turns up at work the next day looking like himself for the first time since he was told about Jonah and Buck can do the math.  

(Knowing that Eddie has gone from being unable to escape his despair to helping Bobby deal with his own... Buck forgets that Eddie wasn’t around when Bobby was still holding them all at arm’s length, when he kept that notebook, when he fell off the wagon so hard it left bruises on them all. Eddie never knew that Bobby and couldn’t know how much the reappearance of him scared the crap out of Buck and Hen and Chim and Athena most of all. Eddie can’t understand how many people he comforted by being able to give whatever it was to Bobby that he needed, any more than he can’t see how the act of reaching out at all is a sign of so much progress from that dark night.)

Redoing the balcony isn’t on Buck’s to-do list, isn’t on the list of home improvement projects he has that got re-arranged when Taylor’s stuff became their stuff. But he can’t spend all of his off-duty time away from home, even if it doesn’t feel anything like home right now, and Taylor’s working in the loft to ‘give him some space’ because she can’t run all the time, either.  

He doesn’t own a hedge clipper because it would be stupid to have with what little greenery is out there and so he can’t actually cut back the neighbor’s trees. Which have grown from a few leaves over the divider when he signed the lease to hiding the divider completely. He can, however, move the grill. Fire Marshal Buck knows that you aren’t supposed to have a grill within three feet of the walls, but Actual Klutz Buck knows that putting it up against the balcony railing is asking for terminal velocity damage down below. It’s still never going to get used, but if it ever is then they’ll just close the window and call it good.  

It doesn’t dawn on him until after he’s re-arranged the entire balcony what he has actually done. Moving the grill so that it could, in theory, be used is... Eddie hasn’t been over since Taylor moved in. Eddie won’t admit that he doesn’t like Taylor, will in fact protest vehemently if that is so much as suggested and that’s why they were over at Casa Diaz for dinner the other month. But Buck knows that Eddie, at best, tolerates Taylor because Buck says he loves her. And Eddie hasn’t been over since Taylor moved in even as he’s been to everyone else’s place since he left.  

“Grill as a metaphor,” is what he says out loud to himself, but finally accepting that ‘enough’ isn’t good enough anymore, that he's willing to be alone to be happy, feels like a freaking revelation. Doctor Copeland has been telling him for years that he needs to learn to like himself and treat himself with the kindness he wants for others and he has never not understood the importance of that, but he has also never been willing to commit to doing it before because the process seemed terrifying. Moving the grill is maybe the scariest thing he’s ever done.  

The grill does get shifted over to the balcony railing before Eddie will light it because “I don’t want to have to tell Metro Dispatch that I set a building on fire two days after I went back to the 118. Maddie or Linda would catch the call and Josh would make it his ringtone and Bobby would have the both of us swabbing floors until Christmas.”  

Chris thinks this is the funniest thing ever, knocking over his crutches in his explosion of glee, and Buck holds up his hands in defeat. He puts down his beer bottle and grabs the other side of the grill as Eddie tells him “On three.”  

#911 #911fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #dmzfic