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nonbinaryspy · 7 months

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Ike/Soren Meta: The Little Things

In (belated) honor of the IkeSoren Week Encore prompt for canon scenes, I wanted to highlight some of my favorite less obvious interactions. These are moments outside their supports/base convos/death quotes/endings that nonetheless feel personal or significant. Some even require variables like other units dying. This isn’t an exhaustive list, but I sure did have a lot of thoughts on it all, so this post is very long.

First up: moments in early PoR that establish their initial dynamic and characterization.

Ch 4

If Shinon is alive (Normal or Easy mode)

Shinon: “All right, Ike. Let’s see how you handle the role of captain. Well? What are your orders, boy? We’ll do what you say, so long as you hurry up and spit it out!” Ike: “I know, I know! I’m thinking! Give me a moment, will you, Shinon?” Shinon: “Bah. Useless! We’d be better led with Mist than this soft, untested whelp.” Ike: “Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. Soren and Rhys are vulnerable, so we have to protect them from enemy attacks…Right?” Soren: “That’s a sound strategy, Ike. I can attack from behind your defenses. Good thinking.” Ike: “Do you mean that? Um…all right! Let’s do that then.”

This is obviously meant as a hint to new players, but it’s also introducing the team dynamics when Ike is put in charge for the first time. Shinon is clearly derisive, which makes it stand out more that Soren jumps to compliment Ike, especially when he himself is usually more negative. Ike in turn seems surprised and happy to receive a compliment from him. Shortly before this, we saw Ike doubting why his father would put him in charge and not feeling up to the task, and later in the game we’ll see him expressing how much he appreciates Soren’s bluntness and objectivity because it means he can trust his word. So, Soren’s encouragement in this moment clearly has weight.

Plus, it’s just cute that this sets up the idea of Ike as a tank to Soren, since that plays out in both the plot and gameplay.

I also think it’s neat how this changes if only Ike and Soren are in this part:

If Rhys and Shinon are dead (Hard mode)

Soren: “Ike, do you have any ideas on how you want to approach this fight?” Ike: “Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. You’re vulnerable, so I have to be sure you’re protected from enemy attacks, right?” Soren: “Right. Er…sorry for the trouble…but I appreciate the consideration.” Ike: “Sure. All right, let’s do that then.”

Soren is the only squishy mage Ike is talking about protecting, making his response more sheepish. Throughout the game, we see Soren worry about being a burden to Ike, so the idea of Ike having to protect him specifically puts him in a different headspace. Meanwhile, Ike doesn’t turn into a puppy here because Soren didn’t compliment him.

If Soren is forced to retreat in this chapter, this happens after the battle:

Soren: “…Forgive me. I was nothing more than a hindrance.” Ike: “Don’t worry about it. Your health is more important. How bad is the wound?” Soren: “…” Ike: “That bad? Well then, from now on, I want you to be an intelligence officer.” Soren: “What? Are you serious?” Ike: “Are you so opposed to the idea?” Soren: “Of course not! I thought…I…I assumed I would be…let go…” Ike: “Don’t be stupid. An intelligence officer assists with strategy and planning, right? There’s no combat of any kind. There shouldn’t be any problems. I’m sure the commander will approve of the idea.” Soren: “…Th-thank you. I’ll try to bring honor to the position.”

Speaking of Soren being afraid of being a burden, this is the first chance for the player to see a core element of his character, which is how concerned he is with being useful. This is far before he has learned to trust that he will always have a place at Ike’s side. He joined the company to be with Ike and attain security, so the fact that he expects to lose all of that after being hurt is so sad, but also makes sense given his past and how he’s only been desired for his abilities. Of course, Ike doesn’t realize any of this–he only wants Soren to be safe and stay with him. This is mirrored beautifully in Soren’s Forging Bonds in FEH, where he wonders why his younger self would be summoned when he isn’t useful, and Ike theorizes that it’s more about his younger self’s well-being than his abilities.

Another thing of interest here is that Soren, despite now being referenced constantly as the Greil Mercenaries’ tactician, didn’t actually start out with that job title. At the start of the game, he was their staff officer who was still in training with a different mercenary group. Over the course of the games, especially RD, he grows into his role as a respected strategist (and possibly a legendary one, if Cipher and his other game cameos are to be believed). But here, we see that even in the beginning of PoR, Ike already saw that potential in him.

Ch 8:

Ike: “What about you, Soren?” Soren: “…Ike. I’m not sure what help I could be to you. What place is there for me in a mercenary company, anyway?” Ike: “You are so weird…I’ve always depended on you, haven’t I? I need your tactical knowledge. I need your objectivity. You’re not going to leave me, are you, Soren?” Soren: “Don’t worry. I’ll be here, watching over you.”

I love how crucial this is to establishing their relationship, especially since all of the dialogues I included before this one are optional. This is the first time most players will see Soren doubt his place, Ike express how much he values Soren, and Soren promise to stay and look after him.

It’s also a perfect introduction to the arc Soren has if you do their supports. Throughout their supports, you learn why he feels like an outsider, finally culminating in him shouting “I don’t belong anywhere!” with the expectation that this will disgust Ike, and that Ike will finally reject him. But he doesn’t. That unconditional acceptance finally gets through to Soren, and in his final line in the game, if he has an A support with Ike, he will say his iconic line, “There’s only one place for me to be, Ike…and it’s by your side.” Even the word choice of “place” echoes the dialogue from chapter 8; what place is there for him? By Ike’s side. Asked and answered.

It’s significant that all of Soren’s appearances since then have quoted this sentiment. It’s the culmination of his journey toward acceptance. Without being tied to a specific family, nationality, or many of the other things that shape a person’s identity and understanding of their place in the world, he thought he would never belong anywhere. But Ike’s main philosophy is that a person’s origins don’t need to define them, and his influence allows Soren to accept himself.

Another interesting thing about the above interaction is how much it stands out from the other conversations in this part of the game. PoR gives a lot of early screen time to the Greil Mercs, even though as we’ve seen, it requires a lot of variations to account for permadeath. This leads up to chapters 8-9, where we see them all handle grief differently as they process what Greil’s life and death mean to them. All of this hits hard, but what’s interesting about Soren is that he never says anything about Greil. Instead, we see the above scene where he questions his own right to be there, as well as various scenes in chapter 9 where he hovers around Ike, trying to provide comfort and not knowing how (see below).

In this scene, the other characters are reacting to the idea of Ike taking command. Their loyalty to Greil is being tested as they have to decide whether to follow his inexperienced son. For instance, we learn in this section how much the three brothers owe to Greil for taking them in. But Soren, though Greil also took him in and he seemed to have some basic respect for Greil’s command, didn’t join the group for Greil. He joined it for Ike. So as he says, “We all knew that Ike was going to inherit command of the company, didn’t we? It just happened sooner than we wanted.” It was already a foregone conclusion that he would one day follow Ike–but to him, it’s not a foregone conclusion that he’ll be allowed to, or has a right to. So in the above script, when everyone is chiming in to express their support of Ike’s leadership, Soren instead vents his own insecurities.

Ch 9:

Much has already been said about Soren’s personal journey and how Ike supports him, but I am also very interested in the reverse. Ike is increasingly being forced to take on roles that he doesn’t feel ready for at the same time as having to swallow his sudden grief. PoR is at heart a coming-of-age story, where Ike is coming into his own while struggling to understand the world around him, all while getting a crash course in topics like war and politics. Soren, as someone who is very caring toward Ike but is otherwise cold and pragmatic due to his own traumatic experiences, and who is knowledgeable about many of the topics that Ike is ignorant of, is a key part of this growth process.

As said, chapter 9 especially has several parts where Soren clearly wishes to comfort Ike in the wake of Greil’s death, but has no idea how. Their C support is an example of this, as is their base conversation, which I’ve always thought was incredibly sweet—especially given that Soren’s intent clearly comes through, and Ike is able to find comfort in his presence while reassuring Soren that he’ll be all right. It demonstrates the care and understanding between them.

Another example though, which you might not necessarily see, happens after Soren’s first report if there was a casualty in the previous chapter:

Soren: “And that’s it.” Ike: “Ugh…” Soren: “Ike? Is something wrong?” Ike: “Even though I was aware of the numbers, hearing it in a report like this is…hard.” Soren: “Do you mean the casualties and refugees?” Ike: “Death and destruction are all part of war. My father said that a lot. ‘The first casualties of war are those without strength and those without luck. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Live with bravery, be daring and fearless. Live for those who have died.’ And yet…I can’t help but think if I were more powerful…I could save more people. Couldn’t I?” Soren: “Ike…” Ike: “…Blast!” Soren: “Indeed.” Ike: “Forgive me. I got carried away.” Soren: “No, not at all… Um, perhaps I should…” Ike: “Thank you for the report. I will need more of the same from here on. Keep up the good work.” Soren: “Thank you, Commander. I will do my best. But if I have your leave, I must be going.”

First of all: Can we all just appreciate how funny “...Blast!” “Indeed.” is? It reads like a shitpost comic, but they really just said that.

Anyway, the idea that people can die in Ike’s very first battle as commander, right after he could do nothing to save his father, hits hard here. FE in general, with its permadeath feature and plots, focuses a lot on the weight of individual deaths in war. Given Greil’s past, it’s unsurprising that he gave Ike the advice he did. But it’s equally unsurprising that Ike would find this hard to accept.

As said before, Soren truly does not know how to offer comfort, but his sympathy for Ike is clear. All he can really do is support him with his tactics and objectivity like Ike asked. So it seems significant that this is one of the only times Soren ever addresses Ike formally. Ike is always just Ike to him, even later on when Ike has been named a lord and general. So to me, the fact that he calls him “Commander” here feels deliberate. All this time, Ike has been doubting his ability to lead, and Soren can’t offer personal comfort–so acknowledging Ike’s role as his leader, and Soren’s commitment to supporting him in that role, is the best assurance he can provide.

Next, I want to talk about the middle section of the game, particularly moments that reference the Ike/Soren supports.

Ch 12:

Nasir: I am uncomfortable around dragons. I thought it would be better if I stayed below in my cabin. My apologies. Ike: Now that you mention it, Soren seems to have disappeared as well. Have you seen him? Nasir: Perhaps he's feeling nauseated. For one unaccustomed to sea travel, it's not uncommon. Ike: Right...I think I'll check up on him later.

I’m including this for being early foreshadowing re: Soren’s origins, as well as one of the many times that Ike checks on him throughout the game. Actually, this is an example of something that happens a LOT, which is the game pointing people toward the Ike/Soren supports. Given how important they are to Soren’s arc and that they’re even a requirement for some scenes in RD, that isn’t surprising. It is pretty unusual in an FE game, however, which makes it notable. Sometimes it feels like every other chapter is putting neon signs around Soren saying “This guy has Stuff, and Ike wants to know what, btw.” This specific example is even one that foreshadows RD, rather than anything that is followed up on directly in this game.

Ch 13:

Ike: Soren...About what I said this morning... Soren: Yes? Ike: About the way you phrase things. Soren: I...I ought to apologize for that. Ike: No, don't apologize. I know you. I know it's been bothering you, hasn't it? Soren: No. Well... Ike: Don't take it personally. I'm no better, you know. Your ability to speak plainly the things others won't is part of what makes you brilliant. Others are too bound by courtesy...With you, I trust that what you say is exactly what you think. Soren: Well...yes... Thank you, Ike.

I don’t have anything new to say here re: the things Ike understands and appreciates about Soren and how Ike expresses this. I just love this scene. <3

Ch 15:

Ike: Tell me, Soren, are you all right? Soren: Hm? Ike: Recently--ever since we reached Begnion, in fact--you've seemed depressed. Soren: Is...is that so? How odd. Well, I can think of nothing specific that's bothering me. Ike: Well, if you say so. Ike: So, it's time for the desert! Which is the best direction to enter from? Soren: ... Ike: Soren? Soren: ...Eh? Yes, what is it? Ike: All right, I know there's something going on! Soren: I'm... I'm sorry... I was...thinking. What is it you wanted? Ike: Well, I was going to ask you for directions, but it's no longer necessary. It looks like we're being met.

This is one of the most blatant examples of their supports being integrated into the plot. It follows up on Ike telling Sigrun that Soren’s been depressed, and leads directly into their B support, plus foreshadows their A support by establishing Soren’s reaction to finding out that he’s branded.

Ch 17:

Ike: Hm? Is that you, Soren? You're up early. Soren: Actually, I'm always awake at this time. Ike: Really? Soren: Yes. You're the one who's up earlier than normal. Ike: I want to finish our mission today. I think my nervous energy woke me up. Soren: I understand... The last two days spent searching Serenes Forest for that heron have been frustrating and fruitless. I'm sure he's in there somewhere, but… Ike: I agree. And Duke Tanas's men are still hunting away. They must think the heron is there as well. Soren: The only place left is the forest's heart. That's where we should go today. With luck, we may finally locate our target. Ike: I get the feeling it's going to be a long day.

This, meanwhile, happens after the B support has already been available. This is mostly plot exposition, but what’s significant is that the tone and dynamic are very different than just a couple chapters ago. You can’t tell in text, but they’re smiling in the lines about their sleep schedules, making the vibe very casual and domestic. This is a far cry from just a little while ago, when Soren couldn’t hold a conversation with Ike even while doing his job. This suggests that Soren is feeling somewhat better, and has regained his usual dynamic with Ike–which only really makes sense when you’ve just gotten their B support, and Soren has gotten a lot off of his chest while deciding to keep the rest to himself for now.

Another sweet thing here is Soren’s understanding and sympathetic replies to Ike, which as we saw earlier in the game, he was struggling to provide on a basic level. They’re truly learning and growing together even in little ways.

Immediately after that, we transition into this:

Soren: I believe this is the place where we ended our search yesterday. Ike: I realized something a couple of days ago...Even in this forest, you always know exactly where you are, don't you? Soren: Hm? Ike: How do you do that? I think it's the lack of color, but these woods are starting to look the same to me. Soren: Yes, that's a problem...

This is again foreshadowing lore from their supports by hinting that Soren has better senses than a beorc (personally, I theorize that due to his dragon blood, Soren has above-average spatial awareness and other abilities that help him with navigation–handy for a tactician!) and setting up the reveal that he managed to navigate a forest on his own as a child.

And finally, one late-game scene:

Ch 27:

Ike: The one I seek is behind these doors. Don't follow me. I'm going in alone. Soren: Ike! Wait! I'm going with– Titania: No, Soren. We have to let Ike go alone. The Black Knight is his. Defeating him is a crucial step that Ike must take in order to truly get over the death of his father. Soren: Idiocy! I'll hear no more of this naive nonsense! What if something happens to him? What then? Titania: I think Ike has gained the composure to keep calm and judge whether or not he can match an opponent. If, in fact, he can't...it means he's reached his full potential, and that's all there is to him. We just have to accept that. But I believe in Ike. I trust him. His life is not his alone any longer. I don't believe he's so irresponsible as to leave his companions behind by choosing to engage in a contest he cannot win. Please, Soren, you must feel the same way. Don't you? Soren: ...I don't like it. Sometimes, bravery and good judgment aren't enough. Titania: Commander Greil... Watch over your son.

I don’t have a lot to say that’s relevant to my other points, I just love this scene for how it establishes both Soren and Titania’s dedication to Ike, and what that means to each of them. Shoutout to the Tellius audio CD for showing us what it would be like for them to support Ike in a fight against the BK! (And shoutout to it in general for having some incredible Ike/Soren content, including some adorable casual banter as well as more dramatic moments.)

Radiant Dawn

Honestly, for understandable reasons of scope, RD doesn’t have as much in the category of ‘Ike/Soren moments that are personal but not in supports/base convos/death quotes/epilogues/etc.’ There are a few fave moments I want to highlight though, as well as just a general appreciation for how Soren is constantly referenced as being at Ike’s side, considering what I’ve already said about what that means re: his arc.

Also, shout-out to their intro cutscene where Soren pays no attention to his surroundings as he hurls magic at the enemies surrounding Ike.

Ch 3-3 (base convo)

Ranulf: Soren has even answered some of Skrimir’s more insane requests. He doesn’t listen to a word I say, but when Soren talks strategy, he’s all ears. Ike: Is that why he hasn’t been complaining during the briefings? Ranulf: He says he looks forward to what the little strategist will say next. It looks to me like Soren’s charmed his way into the most powerful position in this army. Titania: I’m glad to hear it. He’s changed, hasn’t he? Ranulf: Yeah, I think so. He still doesn’t say much, but he’s a lot more at ease these days. He used to be completely closed off, rejecting anyone who tried to get close. Like he’d lock himself away, all alone in his own little world. Ike: We all lost and gained something during the Mad King’s War. Maybe it wasn’t a complete waste, after all.

Ranulf’s commentary on Soren’s growth here is great, and of course we have seen how Ike’s support enabled it. It also just says so much that Ike thinks the war wasn’t a complete waste, after all he himself lost and all the horrors he witnessed, just because Soren is more at ease. Especially if you pursue their supports in PoR, Ike spends considerable energy trying to help Soren feel better, so it makes sense that this is still a priority for him.

Ch 3-7

Micaiah: You are so… cold. It’s like you’re cloaked in frost. Is there even blood in your veins? Soren: There is. Blood very similar to yours, in fact. Blood that teaches us what it means to be rejected and alone. Micaiah: Your heart is frozen, but I feel a warm core trying to melt through that ice. I see… You have someone you cherish very much. Someone you rely on.

3-13

Micaiah: Yes, and you would know. There’s something very different about you, too. Your energy feels so…ancient. You and I seem to have so much in common. Soren: That doesn’t matter in the slightest. The only thing that does matter is that you are a dangerous adversary. You are also in Ike’s path, so it falls to me to remove you. It’s almost a shame. Farewell, Maiden of Dawn. Micaiah: So, you fight for someone, as well. So very much alike… But I will defeat you. I will protect the ones I love!

The parallels between Soren and Micaiah and their relationships, as well as other characters (Hi, Zelgius), are their own fascinating topic. The whole convos between them are great, but I’ll just highlight that it says a lot that Micaiah can read Soren’s heart and sense Ike’s impact on him. Especially when you combine it with Ranulf’s observation, it brings home the influence Ike has on Soren. His first reaction to recognizing Micaiah as a kindred spirit is to focus on the idea that they’re both alone, but she immediately calls out that this isn’t entirely true. Given how determined Micaiah is to protect her loved ones, stemming in part from her own experiences with being branded, the fact that she can recognize that in Soren also speaks volumes.

Ch 3-8

Soren: Our options are profoundly limited, Ike. It appears our only other choice is those caves up ahead. Ranulf: Caves? Oh...yeah, those are the Kauku Caves. We don't want to go there. It's a complex maze, full of lava and ash. Not exactly a place you'd want to rest. The legends say that, through the caves, there's one exit that leads to Gallia, and another exit that leads to Goldoa. Whatever the legends say, though, the fact is that it's suicide to go in there. We don't even have a map! Ulki: However, the more you hens carry on, the closer the enemy advances on us. They're now less than a day away. Soren: If the enemy catches up to us in this forest, we will certainly die. The caves are known to be dangerous, so Begnion may not pursue. Even the most formidable natural hazard isn't as deadly as an intelligent, living enemy. We must go to the caves. Now. Ike: All right, Soren. I trust you. Let's move out for the caves.

Here’s where my analysis ends. I just…Ike hears how deadly this volcano is, hears Soren say that’s the safest place to be, and then immediately orders the large group of people he’s responsible for to enter it because if Soren says he’ll be safe in the volcano, then he’ll be safe in the volcano.

;_; “The Devoted” indeed.

(If you read this ~2k of script and ~2k of analysis, thank you and I hope you enjoyed! Happy IkeSoren Week Encore, everyone.)

#ikesoren #ikesoren week encore #aisene #ike fire emblem #soren fire emblem #soren #tellius #long post #ikesorenweekencore

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eddies-house · 6 months

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Ten - A Chemistry Lesson

W/C: 8.2K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

And for once, you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

You Are In Love - T.S.

A/N: so i decided to split the chapter up, I started moving into another scene and it only felt right to give it it's own chapter as it opens up the night. i hope you guys love this chapter as much as i love this chapter <3

Masterlist

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“Dustin Henderson!” The younger boy shoves past both of them confidently, his hand shaking yours impressively.

“We have heard so much–” Robin begins though she’s cut off by Steve lightly smacking a hand against her stomach.

Frozen. You’re frozen in time, an influx of information and new faces rendering you a speechless idiot. Each one stares expectantly, awaiting some kind of a response, more than likely drawing their own conclusions about your silence and lack of communication. They were going to be so disappointed in your shyness should they even have the patience to wait around.

Before you can humiliate yourself, Steve saves the day as an offended Robin glares at him, rubbing her stomach rather dramatically. “Donnie.” He states, only creating further confusion. Several people stood before you and Donnie was not one of them, you were now struggling to keep up with the current interaction at the mention of her. Overstimulated. You were definitely overstimulated. You can’t even imagine the dumb face you were sporting, the silence too loud as you struggled clinging onto words. Any words in the English language at all at this point.

“Donnie has told us all about you.” Steve elaborates finally. “All good things, I promise!” He chuckles, seemingly attempting to ease your anxieties that had made themselves evident in your wide eyes and worried forehead creases.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, yeah! And she’s told us all about how you’re Eddie’s new babysitter.” Robin chimes in again, earning a pointed look from Steve.

Eddie’s reaction is lost on you, his existence temporarily vanishing as you take in the current conversation. The idea of being perceived was one thing, it was entirely another to be perceived by four strangers who had apparently already been made aware of your existence.

“What she means is that we’ve heard you’ve been a good friend.” Nancy softly smiles.

Friend.

You didn’t quite know why but the word felt insulting. Not on any account of Nancy’s, there was no malice detected in her tone though you were still intimidated by her and figured with her being the prettiest girl in the room, she must at least be on Eddie’s radar. The word ‘friend’ was starting to feel vulgar the more it played over in your head.

“Yeah, ‘friend’.” Dustin uses air quotes, a wild grin on his youthful face.

At this, Steve delivers a harsh smack to the boy’s abdomen, more aggressive than he had done to Robin seconds ago.

“Henderson.” Eddie reprimands.

His voice lures you in despite your inner protests, your gaze traveling over each unique face until it settles on his. That familiar distress showcases itself in the form of a frown; there was no telling what reaction you had expected of him but something about it makes your heart drop, your stomach feeling as if it was free falling in the worst way possible. Were you really that repulsive?

It was obvious Dustin had only been joking but the disgust on Eddie’s face only forced your tear ducts to strain, your eyes becoming glassy in seconds. It was a long shot, thinking that there could be any semblance of interest on Eddie’s part and you suppose you should be to blame for your hurt feelings. He owed you nothing and here you were mourning over something that never was, all because he had let you see a piece of the inner workings of his mind. It didn’t warrant a one way ticket into his heart.

“What!?” Dustin shrugs, unbothered.

Robin steps forward, an apologetic smile gracing her features as she addresses you. “I promise we’re not all gigantic dinguses.”

A flood of complaints spills from Dustin and Steve, Nancy only rolling her eyes at the interaction before taking the initiative in pursuing the conversation with you as the others bicker, Eddie only spectating the whole scene playing out in front of him.

“Dustin doesn’t always know when to keep quiet.” She giggles, subtly pulling you to the side, her hand gentle as it rests on your forearm. It almost repulses you, although your logic kicks in and pieces together that this woman has never done anything to elicit such a response from you. “But he always means well.”

The heat was dying down, the unsolicited jealousy now tame within the confines of your body, not totally gone but no longer raging just beneath the surface. If it were up to you you’d ball up the lingering feeling and burn it, if it were only so easy.

“Are they brothers?” You ask, recalling that night you drove him home. He only spoke of his uncle, Wayne. He did also mention Dustin but never insinuated that they were related. Based on the way they were interacting, you’d assume they were brothers in some sense of the word.

“Where’s your family?” Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him. Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal. And you offered him that same respect.

“What?” You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response. The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench. His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.” You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering. Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder. Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts? Even if he was slightly under the influence. Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.

“What about yours?” You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure. A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one. Never really have. Or, uh, I just don’t remember them? Other than my uncle, Wayne. He’s back…” Eddie hesitates. “He’s in Indiana.”

Nancy’s gaze follows yours, locking in on the two boys catching up. “Dustin and Eddie?” Her puzzled expression already grants you your answer, though she continues. “No, no they’re not related. You’d think they are, with all the fantasy stuff they talk about and what not.”

“Fantasy stuff?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.” Her perfectly plucked brows raise. “My brother used to have me play with them, thank god Eddie stepped into the picture.” She mutters.

“Eddie did mention Dungeons and Dragons.” You nod.

“And Dustin’s little drawing.”

“And the drawing?”

Your grin along with Nancy as you simultaneously speak, a few giggles filling the air between you.

“So your brother is…Dustin?”

Amidst the calm conversation, Steve and Robin are cheering a few feet away, both of their arms now slung around Eddie. It wasn’t clear what they were celebrating and it even seemed that they were just trying to embarrass him in that true friend fashion. It was sweet, how much they cared about him, the lengths they went just to surprise him.

Nancy gracefully shakes her head, brunette curls bouncing with the movement and freckled nose scrunching playfully. “No, no. Dustin is one of my brother’s best friends. Mike is my brother, he’s back at home in–” Before she can reveal where ‘home’ was, her bright blue eyes widen. “Back in Indiana.” She corrects herself.

“I think Eddie’s mentioned Mike a few times.” You recall the conversation, how he took Mike and Dustin under his wing in highschool. “He couldn’t come?”

“He’s studying for midterms.” She shakes her head. “He really wanted to come but…you know between his girlfriend in California and college it’s just all…a lot.” Her eyes are kind, probably the kindest you’d ever come across.

“I’d love to meet him one day.” You smile, only hoping that you were reciprocating the same compassion she was radiating. “And Max, and Lucas, and Wayne…”

Nancy’s eyes seem to brighten, ears perking up at the names. “He told you about everyone?” She asks softly, her baby pink lips upturning slightly.

You nod. Another eruption of laughter and shouting forces your attention toward the rest of the group, a proud grin displayed on Dustin’s face only hinting that he had just made a joke that even had Eddie hunched over in laughter, Steve’s arm still draped over his shoulder with his head thrown back.

“That is not funny.” Robin pouts, arms crossed.

“I think it’s pretty funny.” Steve smirks.

Nancy politely excuses herself from your one-on-one conversation, joining Robin’s side. “What’s not funny?”

“When Robin swallowed an egg whole–”

“It’s not funny!” Robin continues to protest. “I almost died!”

This only makes the boys cackle more, pulling an eye roll from Nancy.

“C’mon Nance.” Dustin grins.

“Yeah, c’mon Nance.” Eddie chimes in.

Nance.

Why did it rub you the wrong way when he said it? You assessed Nancy’s body language and nothing conveyed to you that she had any interest in him, however your mind continued it’s unruly torture. Even so, Eddie had made it clear what he thought of you, that you were ‘too busy dry humping’ Jett and that even though that couldn’t be further from the truth, he would still lose respect for you.

Heat burrowed deep in your belly once again, the kind that wasn’t yet uncontrollable but should anyone add fuel to the fire would result in your own self destruction. All because Eddie had to go and cause a scene. All because he had a temper that never rested even when it appeared dormant.

“I-um, I’m gonna go get the drinks–what did–what did everyone want?” You manage to pitifully scramble the sentence together and eventually get your point across.

“Stevie!” Donnie interrupts, crushing the poor guy in a tight hug. It makes you question her disgust for physical touch.

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, a twitch of his eye only projecting a smidge of discomfort but other than that he contently hugs her back. They begin catching up, everyone completely ignoring your request for their drink orders. It’s not their fault you were so invisible, it was just your nature, you were always meant to be put on the backburner until further notice but for some reason it causes an extra deep pang in your chest this time. Especially since Eddie had completely disregarded you as he jumped into the conversation.

With the tiniest huff, you quietly step away to make yourself useful behind the bar. A pair of blue eyes follows you, considerate blue eyes that you attempt to ignore. If you looked carefully enough, you’d see that pair of ocean blue eyes making connections between yourself and a certain brown eyed man. You were in no mood to act as a detective though.

–

It was irresponsible.

Your track record so far was evidence enough.

But as you stared down the bottle of tequila sat in front of you, howls of laughter and echoes of inside jokes entering your ears even from the other side of the bar, it seemed like more and more of a good idea. Or like the only idea.

You could have one shot, just to relax the nerves, make you more approachable. No one would notice. You could come off as the friendly stranger in the background instead of the miserable mouse in the corner. It was for your benefit. Your thoughts would become less intense, your bitterness would melt away. Eddie would temporarily become the dream boat he had previously been in your eyes rather than a mouthy douchebag, your hazy mind would erase his wrong doings if only for a few hours.

You hope.

Or maybe you’d open your eyes and see what Eddie was seeing, had you really shown any interest in Jett at all? Maybe a shot would be enough to introduce you to the narrative. Maybe you should let loose and throw yourself at Jett for the fuck of it. Bad decisions were starting to sound more appealing the harder you stared at the bottle of liquid courage. Until your careful thought process was interrupted.

“We doin’ shots?”

The deep but soothing voice catches you off guard, calm brown eyes and concerned brows gaining all of your attention. They weren’t the brown eyes you secretly hoped for, even if they were the most infuriating sight you could possibly be faced with at the moment. No, they were a lighter hue, the overhead light casting golden flecks within the irises that regarded you with genuine interest, his lips pressed together tightly as he awaits your answer. In his hand he holds what looks to be a scotch on the rocks though it could also be whiskey, you were no expert quite yet.

“Uh…no. I dunno. Maybe?” You squint your eyes painfully. “Forget I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” Steve takes a seat at one of the vacant stools directly across from you. “But…” He clicks his tongue. “If you are going to, count me in.” He smiles charmingly, finishing off his drink.

“I…” You’re about to take the sensible route, you’re so close to making the right decision. Then again, bad decisions were far more tempting. Especially with the help of an unaware acquaintance. “Okay.” You sigh, offering him a friendly grin.

Without further consideration, you pop the bottle cap off, pulling out two sparkling shot glasses and setting them on the counter confidently. At least you didn’t have to drink alone.

“Munson giving you a hard time?” Steve suddenly inquires. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head which you assume is why he elaborates. “I know he’s kind of intense. The first year he moved out here he was…he was so fuckin’ unhappy y’know? And I know what you’re thinkin’: Why is this guy, Steve, who I just met, going on about Munson?” He begins to ramble.

Slowly, you start to pour the foul smelling alcohol into one of the glasses as you listen intently. A few drops trickle down the side but it goes ignored as you watch Steve’s every move. He toys with the glass he’d just finished off, spinning it over and over again in circles atop the bar, a ring of condensation following.

“Don’t–fuck how do I say this?” He pushes a weft of voluminous hair back. “Don’t give up on him.” Steve practically pleads.

You stop pouring the tequila, pausing to chew on your lip and look at him in confusion, which encourages him to continue.

“Look, Donnie was talking about how–how you’ve been really good for him. And I don’t know–I just–I could sense that…you were mad at each other–you and Eddie, I mean.”

He takes your silence as a means to further explain and god, he could feel a migraine coming on just by the way he was stirring things up but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Not when Donnie had been so adamant about Eddie being in such good spirits since you showed up only to come face to face with an almost seething Eddie, and Donnie wordlessly conveying to him that something was wrong.

“The point is, I know that he’s an asshole, okay? Whatever he did, I’m sure he deserves a slap to the face. Just–don’t give up on him.”

Steve’s words sink in. You aren’t sure what has been said but it’s apparent that the tension between you and Eddie tonight was obvious among his friends. You ponder his request–to not give up on Eddie as you fill the second shot glass and slide it across the counter. If anything, Eddie had given up on you by accusing you of messing around with Jett. It was insulting and humiliating. Dehumanizing.

“I think he’s the one who gave up on me.” You admit, tossing the shot back with teary eyes.

The sting spreads down your throat, the potent smell filling your nostrils as you slam the glass down. Your eyes are glassy though you only hope Steve can gather that it's just from the alcohol and not the idea of Eddie essentially throwing whatever you had in the garbage combined with the burn of tequila.

As if caught off guard, Steve quickly throws his shot back, apparently an expert as he doesn’t flinch, only widens his eyes as he slams the glass down as you had. He exhales heavily, nodding, thinking to himself. You await more wise words, more advice that he had no business giving although you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“What are you doing?”

The world feels distant and not because of the alcohol. Your blood runs hot, most definitely because of the alcohol. The question is asked with such outrage that it almost has you shaking. Getting caught was more embarrassing than any outcome you could’ve imagined though you didn’t even try to hide the evidence, didn’t even go as far as to take shots in the back. Did you subconsciously want Eddie to catch you?

“Nothing.” You mutter, quickly capping the bottle and setting it on its designated shelf.

“I just saw you.” Eddie grits, hands splayed out on top of the bar, his arms spread out as he attempts to keep quiet so as not to interrupt the customers scattered throughout the bar.

Eddie’s glare burns a hole into you and maybe it’s because of Steve’s sudden advice, the fact that he felt the need to stick up for Eddie even when he didn’t know the whole situation, but you refuse to give in. He holds a fire in his eyes that you hastily reject as you begin cleaning out the shot glasses. It was your goal to come off as unbothered but you fear you’re coming off more as guilty. Like a dog that had been caught chewing up the family couch.

“It was my fault.” Steve chimes in nonchalantly.

Eddie glances over, brows knit together in irritation. “Your fault?”

“Yeah, we were getting acquainted. I insisted, it was–”

“Steve had nothing to do with it.” You fess up.

Eddie’s face reveals a whole other level of rage, his eyes nearly glazing over with black. You fucked up. That much you could admit to yourself. Steve appears to be panicked, his gaze glued to the bar top, his hands gripping the edge, nails threatening to dig into the wood.

“Meet me in the back.” Eddie demands, pushing himself off of the bar.

Terrified doesn’t even begin to explain the list of feelings coursing through you. You’d never seen him as angry as he was tonight. You were drinking on the job, something that in a small town usually isn’t a big deal but with all of the tension hanging in the air, you could only assume it would add to his irritation. It would only give him more ammo against you.

Steve offers you an apologetic stare, clearly also taken back by Eddie’s irate mood. And then, he half nods as if to wish you good luck before standing and making his way back to the rest of the group. As you timidly step out from the bar and round the corner, you catch Nancy’s sapphire eyes before they disappear, your legs carrying you into the narrow hallway where the office was located. Except Eddie wasn’t in there and you could only conclude that he was outside. ‘Meet me in the back’ meant ‘meet me outside’. Which could only mean he was about to unleash hell on you if he needed to completely remove you from the building in order to reprimand you.

You don’t let yourself prepare, you need to face him without any thoughts clouding your judgment, only further shoving you into the hole you dug yourself. With a push to the metal door, you’re met with an aching cold, the kind that stings the surface of any exposed skin. Immediately your cheeks burn, a few snowflakes landing delicately among your eyelashes. You should have grabbed your jacket.

Leaning against the hay bales stacked like a Tetris game, is Eddie. A cigarette hangs from his lips while he struggles to keep the flame on his lighter alive, the wind fighting his every attempt. He grunts in annoyance, his head tilting toward the sky as if to personally ask it ‘why?’. Already, his cheeks and nose are tinted pink, borderline red. You contemplate asking if you could talk inside but you quickly bite your tongue, you didn’t want to be the one to initiate the conversation.

“What’s your problem?” He asks simply. As if he were asking for the weather forecast. It’s insulting, quite frankly.

“My problem?”

Suddenly the fear that had consumed you seconds ago dissipates, no longer plaguing you and being replaced with a wrath you’re convinced no one else on the planet could pull from you. Even worse, he refuses to look at you, keeping his stare on the cloudy evening sky.

“Are you trying to get fired? ‘Cause I should fire you right–”

“Oh yeah, go ahead. Fire me.”

He’s quiet, attempting to light his cigarette once again. This time he succeeds, the stick catching the flame as he inhales and tucks his lighter into his back pocket. You begin to question if he even cares about the cold until you see the goosebumps pricking across his arms.

“I should.” He mumbles, taking another drag.

“Great! I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You reply, sarcasm dripping from each syllable as you rub up and down your exposed arms. It didn’t help that you decided to wear a skirt and tights tonight either.

Without time to process, he takes a large step toward you, his breath hot as it fans across your face. A sense of softness flashes in his eyes before they return to the fiery nature they previously exhibited. His cigarette idles in his hand at his side, his jaw clenched and visibly tensing before he scowls.

“Same page?” He bites. “The same page.” His free hand rubs along his jaw in thought. “Okay, if we’re on the same page then explain to me why you’re doing shots with Harrington? If we’re on the same page then we must be reading completely different languages because you started this.”

You scoff, his statement on replay in your ears. Each time it plays again you find yourself even more enraged. “I did?” You’re smiling but there’s not an ounce of happiness in your features or your tone.

Eddie backs away, the heat from his breath is missed, no matter how mad you are and no matter how strongly it smelled of smoke. He paces, turning around before coming full circle and facing you again, another deep drag from his cigarette indicating that he’s stressed. Then he nods, bangs falling into his eyes as he does.

“You did. You just–you start ignoring me, start acting like I’m not even a person?” He points the cigarette at you and you’re starting to believe that in the midst of his rage, he’s completely forgotten about the cold whereas it was the only thing you could focus on. Regardless, you fight through it, even if your teeth chatter.

“And, and–hold on.” He shakes his head, curls following his movement as he rushes inside.

Great.

He left you out in the cold, literally.

You weren’t going to wait, his disrespect wasn’t going to keep prodding at you, not if you had anything to say about it. He didn’t get to storm off and leave you outside in the freezing cold, even if you did do something you weren’t proud of. He was probably going to wait and see how long you would hold out, how long you would sit in the cold before inevitably running in and looking for him, how stupid you would look–

The door squeaks open again, smacking against the wall as Eddie comes racing out, leather jacket in hand. Well, if he was allowed to grab his jacket then so were you. His cigarette hangs from his bottom lip as he begins muttering around it.

“You started treating me like I didn’t exist, I don’t know how normal people react to that but–” He adjusts the jacket, flattening out the material before draping it over your shoulders, encouraging you to put your arms in the sleeves. “I assume any normal person would be fuckin’ pissed so I guess I’m not–I’m just not understanding.” He says a bit harshly.

You don’t react, frozen as he waits for you to put your arm in the sleeve. While he’s still visibly aggravated, his eyes also communicate something else to you. The deeper you look into them, the more his pupils dilate, a nervous gulp noticeable as he awaits your reply.

“C’mon, you’re freezing.” He whispers, a large contrast to his previous tone. It’s warmer, it’s familiar, it’s like home.

“What about you?” You mumble, staring dumbly into his big brown eyes, his lashes heavy against his cheeks, unlike how they were seconds ago when he was wild-eyed and riled up. He was still riled up, that was for sure but now…now it was diluted with something else.

“Don’t worry about me, Bambi.” The term of endearment slips from his tongue effortlessly. Like it was meant to fall from his lips directly into your ears. Like it was meant for you and only for you, always.

With parted lips, you can see your breath escape into the night. You know he can hear your labored breathing and you should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his gaze softens, the sturdy exterior he had built up again crumbling just as it had that one night.

“I do worry.”

It falls from your lips quicker than you can contain it. You shouldn’t be offering him such compassion, not when he was so okay with insulting you hours earlier. But pools of melted chocolate never left you any other choice but to get lost in them. He moves in closer, ever so slightly, only enough that you feel the familiar warmth of his breath on your cheek, so that you can still make out his whole face.

“Don’t.” He says breathily.

“Why?”

He only shrugs, his focus trailing down your face, reaching every inch. It makes you want to shy away but you can’t, not when he looks so sincere.

“‘M sorry.” He whispers, reaching up to brush a rogue strand of hair from your face.

Your instinct is to ask ‘for what?’, but you know better. You don’t need to play dumb, both of you are aware of his nasty words and your tendency to take things to a level they should have never gotten to. You’re both to blame. But you don’t need to pretend to not know what he’s apologizing for. There’s no pretending with him. So you can only hope that he’ll see through to the deeper meaning of your initial question.

“For what?”

For what? Would he say that he’s only sorry he hired you in the first place? Or that he’s sorry he ever met you. Would he understand your words and be in tune enough to decipher them?

“Everything.” He whispers.

It’s quiet, almost eerily but not. No, it’s too peaceful to be eerie. The first snowflakes of the season are still falling and you’re standing outside the bar with Eddie Munson, a man who was so stubborn he seemed almost impossible. Almost, but not. Never for you.

“Everything.” You repeat. And he knows he owes you more.

“Everything.” He swallows the lump in his throat that was preventing him from saying the necessary words. It goes down smoother than he expects. “Every second I was ever an asshole to you. Especially my stupid ass comment about Jett. I-I was mad and I took it out on you. I tend to do that pretty often don’t I?” He laughs humorlessly. “I don’t think less of you if you’re actually…y’know.” He gestures vaguely.

“What?” You ask, genuine confusion taking over your features.

For a moment, his eyes shift back and forth, as if to beg you not to make him say it.

“With Jett.” He mumbles, gaze now avoiding you.

“With Jett.” You repeat in disbelief. “I have done nothing to suggest we are at all together.” You scoff.

“I know.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s bracing for more choice words from you. They don’t come. “I know. I just, he got in my head and–”

“Got in your head?”

“It was nothing, he got in my head and got all, I dunno protective? If that’s even the word. He just seemed jealous, okay?” Eddie explains. “I know that’s not an excuse for what I said. I’m really sorry for saying you dry hump–”

“Don’t ever use the word dry hump and Jett in a sentence where you’re referring to me again.” You laugh. This time humor floods through you. His whole demeanor relaxes, shoulders less tense. “It’s happened one too many times.” You cringe jokingly.

“Okay, that’s fair.” He smiles, that boyish grin returning to his face. The one you hadn’t seen in days, the one you missed every time, the second he directed it toward you the first time. His dimples deep, eyes shy, he still lingers close to your face, neither of you protesting the invasion of each other’s space. “Now put your arms in the sleeves.” He demands, tugging on the collar of his jacket still laying over your shoulders. “Please.” His face only inches closer to yours as he convinces you to shove your arms into his jacket.

“We’re about to go inside, I won’t need it.” You argue, crossing your arms in front of you, a hip jutting out with sass.

“Oh okay, we’re back to this then?” He smirks, finger grazing the button at the lapel of his jacket, almost scorching the skin of your neck.

That familiar spark ignites in his eyes, the fire that showcased so much unexplored emotion, so many uncharted territories within the man before you. You wanted to explore them all, you wanted to hold his hand and trek across each foreign feeling. You wanted to bathe in the sparks and light yourself on fire to speed up the process. You didn’t just want to burn for him, you wanted to burn with him. Your soul was drawn to him, you wanted to melt into him, melt into his touch, even if it was just his fingertip. You’d take what you could get. And you were really convinced that he wanted the same things solely based on the way he was looking at you with heavy eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m not done addressing my grievances with you.” You joke.

At this, he lights up even more, his entire face exhibiting pure fondness. His lips are so perfectly pink, a little chapped, but the sweetest pink you’d ever seen. They were pillowy and plush and as he licked them you blinked, falling out of your trance. Then, his hands travel down the zipper of his jacket, only touching the worn material and not at all forcing his touch upon you though he longs to feel your warmth.

Instead, he pulls you forward by gripping each side of the jacket, leaving you no choice but to come flush with his chest. You welcome the heat, the sudden warmth that engulfs you like a cozy blanket calms your chattering teeth.

“Yeah?” He whispers, nose nearly bumping against yours. You wish it would.

“Yeah.”

Your lashes just barely flutter against his cheek, only teasing him of what he actually desires, and you don’t even know it. He’s glancing between your eyes and your lips and your internal reaction is to scream at him to just do it. But is that even what he’s hinting at doing? Maybe there was something on your face. You weren’t going to assume his intentions and make yourself out to be a fool.

He hums in response, his hands still tightly clutching the jacket, the damn jacket that you were now wishing he never put on you just so you could feel his skin, the heat of his hands against your arms. The ache was becoming too apparent in your chest, you needed him and there was no way to express it. You couldn’t.

He smells of tobacco and a hint of pine. Even a tiny bit of spice from some kind of cologne you’d grown used to smelling on him. There’s a waft of beer falling from his breath as well, not too obvious, but obvious enough that you can gather that he had at least had a beer before work or during his break.

“Do me a favor?” He asks. And in that moment, you would do anything.

“Mm?”

A quick finger pokes your nose playfully. “No more tequila.”

You can only laugh along with him, almost burying your head in his chest but refraining as you enter your body again. This was not a daydream and he was not someone to call yours. Fooling yourself was only going to get you hurt.

“I’m serious, it fucking stinks.” He scrunches up his face in mock disgust, plugging his nose, you giggling along with his antics.

With that, he pulls away, leaving you feeling frigid, already missing his presence even if he was still right in front of you. Opening the door, he gestures for you to go ahead of him. The atmosphere had been flipped upside down, all hostility left outside in the cold to be swept away in a snowstorm.

–

“And then Eddie fucking jumps off his roof!”

The bar fills with laughter, unfiltered, stomach grabbing laughter of five friends and yourself. The regular customers had long gone and paid their tabs, leaving the bar empty and the possibilities endless as everyone shared treasured stories over beers and drinks. Steve appears to be pleased with himself as the laughter carries on for over a minute. The image of Eddie drunk and jumping off of his roof as a means to prove he can ‘fly’ only to face plant into the ground and be driven to the ER was somehow the best entertainment you’d been faced with in a while.

It was mentioned that he didn’t get injured too badly and only required a few stitches above his eyebrow where you could now seek out a scar and remember this night. The night Eddie’s friends accepted you into their circle. Even if only for the night.

“Well what about when you got a lampshade stuck on your head.” Eddie points at Steve with his beer bottle.

Steve only offers a disapproving expression as the giggles erupt once again. Robin sits to your right while Nancy sits to your left. The pair had immediately taken a liking to you and moved chairs just so you could sit between them. It felt nice, you felt welcome. You had no worries and nowhere to be. And for once that made you feel alive rather than anxious.

“Okay, but can we talk about you babysitting Eddie on Halloween?” Nancy attempts to hold in her laughter. She had said it quietly but not quietly enough as Eddie deadpans her.

Robin lets out a shriek of laughter, clearly intoxicated. You can only grin at everyone’s reaction. Steve and Dustin had gotten into some kind of a ridiculous argument and throughout the night, you noticed it was a regular occurance. They paid no mind to embarrassing Eddie further but Nancy had no issue with it even if she wasn’t outright talking to the whole group in the first place and only you and Robin.

“What, Munson? You got plastered and she had to save the day.” Nancy giggles. She had obviously been a little wine drunk, a tiny bit tipsy.

“Yes, it’s very funny.” He says monotone. “Can we find a new joke now?” He asks, rolling his eyes although you know he’s only playing around, his lips threatening to pull themselves into a smile.

“It’s okay to get white girl wasted every once in a while.” You banter.

“Oh, it is?” Eddie raises a brow. “It’s okay to puke all over me after getting white girl wasted? Off of my tequila?”

The table erupts in a series of ‘oh’s’. You could take offense. But it was so much more fun to mess with him.

“I’m not the one who got puked on at least.” You shrug, unbothered.

The table gets loud again, siding in your favor based on their volume.

“Yeah?” He asks. As if you two were suddenly the only people in the bar. As if his friends had disappeared. As if you were back outside behind the bar just a few hours ago.

“Yeah.” You answer, a certain softness in your tone that only he could understand.

Nancy’s gaze flits in between you, mischief crossing her features for a brief second, you swear you see it. But nothing comes of it as she turns her attention to the argument that Dustin and Steve had started up again. Robin chimes in every now and then, hiccuping dramatically. You and Eddie, though a little buzzed, can’t stop staring at each other from across the table. His gaze is heavy and yearning but for what you’re not sure.

His bottom lip continues to get tugged in between his teeth, abusing the already chapped skin as he unknowingly communicates his nervousness. The only thing you’re sure of is that he won’t tear his eyes away from you. Not for Steve’s request to aid in the argument, not for Dustin’s screeching voice demanding he take his side, and not for Jett who was making it known that he was leaving for the night. Eddie only mutters in response, something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’. Steve and Dustin are too caught up to even pay any mind to Eddie’s ignorance to their debate. Robin is in her own world, curling her legs up to her chest in her chair as she becomes fascinated with the wood grain in the table while Nancy pretends to be preoccupied with swirling the wine in her glass and acts as if she’s listening to Dustin’s reasoning, nodding every now and then. But you notice the way her diamond eyes take in the scene before her. And now you’re sure that she has no interest in Eddie nor has she ever shown it.

But she does have an interest in whatever was happening between you and Eddie. She was studying the chemistry.

–

It was 4:00 AM, the sun would be emerging just on the Horizon within hours. An exhausted Steve lays his head on the table over his folded arms. Drool threatens to fall from the corner of his lip onto his sleeve, his mouth hanging open as he sleeps almost like a newborn. Every other breath a deep snore rumbles through him.

“This isn’t even the weirdest place he’s fallen asleep.” Dustin snaps a polaroid, the flash doing little to make Steve stir in his slumber, his eyelids only twitching as he navigates his dreams. “One time we found him under his bed.”

You chuckle at the sight, Steve had been completely hammered off of several beers and a few shots of vodka that Robin had convinced him to take with her. The second he wakes up, he’s in for a rude awakening, you’re sure.

“Do you take a picture every time?” You ask as Dustin hands off the developing picture to you, only to continue getting just the shot he wanted as he crouched down to get a better view of Steve’s face.

“Of course.” He laughs, stating it like there was no other option.

“Steve’s reputation with drinking isn’t necessarily…the best?” Nancy speaks, setting a fresh glass of water on the table in front of him.

You’d learned throughout the night that Steve and Nancy dated in highschool and although it was a nasty breakup, they remained friends and it never was weird after that. They respected each other as they did their other friends and it showed.

“I mean…I don’t think it’s that bad. He’s just sleeping. I’ve dozed off while drunk a few times.” You defend.

“Yeah but have you dozed off in places people couldn’t even find you until we tore the house apart?” Dustin counters with raised eyebrows. “He also used to reign under the title ‘King Steve’ if that tells you anything.”

Showing your hands in surrender, you begin collecting the remaining glasses from the table. Several dozen shot glasses that had provided a good night but would surely bring on a rough morning for those that had participated. You’d taken two shots throughout the night and had half of Robin’s Dirty Shirley that she couldn’t seem to stomach. And she wouldn’t quit until it was gone so you humbly volunteered seeing as she was already almost obliterated, stumbling around anytime she got up and slurring every word.

Robin was now talking Eddie’s ear off as she sat at the bar, narrating every piece of her life that he’d missed since she visited and last updated him. You could vaguely make out her explanation for still not getting her driver’s license, stating that Steve was more than okay with being her chauffeur for the foreseeable future. Then she insisted that should she get her license, she’d be an even worse driver than Eddie used to be so it’d be in everyone’s best interest to keep her off the roads.

Eddie hums along to the conversation, letting Robin steer the topic as he leisurely polishes the glasses he hadn’t gotten to earlier, his friends occupying his full attention a majority of the night. An impressive pile of glasses and cups are building up on your tray, Nancy assisting in collecting what she could as she follows you toward the bar.

“Nance! Tell him!” Robin whines. “Tell him how I’m a danger to the roads of suburbia!”

“You are most definitely a danger.” Nancy smiles softly, moving Robin’s bangs out of her eyes with her free hand before delivering the glasses she’d collected onto the counter.

“See!”

“No need to convince me, Buckely.” Eddie throws his rag over his shoulder. “Although I’d probably have the time of my life with you behind the wheel.” He grins, scooping up the tray you were having trouble setting down. “But I’d also prefer to live a little longer so you avoid that DMV for as long as you can.”

Nancy nods in agreement, taking a seat on the stool next to Robin. As you rush around the counter to assist in washing the remaining glasses, large brown eyes follow you, as if they missed you. Like they’d never been happier to see you. You still shy away from them, only because you’re not sure how long you can last until you melt, until your knees collapse beneath you and you’re a puddle on the floor.

“So what’s our game plan this time for getting Steve to the car?” Nancy asks.

“Leave ‘em here.” Robin slouches in her seat.

“Rob–”

“I second that.” Eddie chuckles.

“You guys are awful!” Nancy proclaims.

You can only giggle to yourself, bubbles coating your hands as warm water leaks down to your elbows as you scrub each glass. A sudden hip jabs into your side, creating enough room for Eddie’s lean frame to partake in the chore.

“What’s so funny, Bambi?” He questions, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You shake your head, still tuning into Robin’s scheme to leave Steve behind. She had obviously been joking, the two constantly bickering with one another throughout the night like siblings only proving so. But she seemed to enjoy pressing Nancy’s buttons as she persisted in her idea of abandoning the poor guy.

“Nothing.” You mutter.

Your backs are facing the two girls, neither of them able to sneak a glance at Eddie’s wandering eyes that you could very clearly spot just out of your peripheral vision. His hands continued to concentrate on the task at hand though not very well as he scrubbed the same tiny shot glass for at least two minutes too long.

“Y’know, you’re not being very helpful.”

With a click of his tongue, he finally sets the overly-clean glass atop the drying rack, reaching over you in the process. It only made you aware of his comforting smell that you had basked in out in the cold earlier. You’d never imagine wishing to do dishes for the rest of eternity but here you were, hoping that an eyelash would fall onto your cheek just so you could wish on it to stay in this very moment.

“‘M not?” He smirks.

“Nope, you’re just making more work for me.”

“Oh, you tell him!” Dustin suddenly peaks over both of your shoulders, quiet as a mouse until he had made his presence known. It startles you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Henderson, don’t sneak up on people like that.” Eddie holds a hand over his chest.

“Look alive.” He shrugs, snooping around at the shelves that would otherwise be obscured from his view on the other side of the bar.

“Nothin’ for you back here, you’re not even twenty one.” Eddie turns around, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms.

“Wha-oh don’t be like that! I only have like two more years and that’s rich coming from you of all people, Eddie.” Dustin points a finger, sticking it harshly into Eddie’s chest.

“Do as I say, not as I do.” Eddie mumbles, returning to his task, snatching up the last two glasses that remained before you could, swatting your hands away.

“What’s he talking about?” You dare to ask.

Dustin brings an arm over your shoulder, the other over Eddie’s, a huge grin plastered on his face as if he’d been waiting for you to ask the question. Eddie only offers him a side eye, nothing malicious but a light warning.

“Eddie here used to have a big reputation.” He explains, patting him on the back. Eddie only rolls his eyes, clearly indicating that he didn’t have any real issue with Dustin revealing pieces of his past.

“Oh?” You wipe your hands on a nearby rag, turning toward Dustin, intrigued.

“Yeah, he used to be the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.”

Your face doesn’t shift, only making it more difficult to gauge your reaction. Eddie starts to fear that this was going to be your wakeup call. Your revelation as to who he really was. He knows Dustin meant know harm in it and to be fair, the kid had probably snuck a few beers away from Steve. There was no ill intent, only playful banter although Eddie hadn’t anticipated how you might have felt about his previous endeavors until after Dustin spoke those words.

“Dustin!” Robin calls for his attention, chewing on a cocktail straw.

Without a second thought, the boy turns his attention toward the two girls sitting at the bar, making his way around to take a seat next to Robin only to assist her in some kind of party trick she had been trying to work out with a napkin.

“How’s it go?” She mutters around the straw.

Eddie stares at the bubbles in the sink like they’re the only thing in the room, his eyes following each one drifting toward the drain and idling at the bottom of the basin as the remaining water drains. Sparkly little bubbles created reflections in his eyes that could resemble stars. And he waits.

He waits for your reaction, waits for you to detach yourself from him because god, he didn’t know what was happening between you two since stepping back inside the bar all those hours ago but he didn’t want it to end just because his past put you off. It was inevitable that the single good thing happening to him would come to an end. That this night would end.

He doesn’t expect you to shove your hip into his just as he had done to you earlier, twirling a rag in between your fingers, offering him a smirk.

“Big reputation, huh?” You playfully raise your eyebrows up and down.

Relief washes over him. It doesn’t have to end. This night isn’t over, maybe he can have whatever this is for a few more minutes, an hour if he’s lucky. He’d delay going home if it meant you’d keep toying with him, teasing him over silly little things that his friends had told you about. He didn’t mind, not when your face would light up at every tiny ‘secret’ you were let in on. Eddie knew very well that his friends had been enlightening you with small details about his life back in Hawkins, about every time they’d visited Knife’s Edge, all the big moments and embarrassing drunk shenanigans. He didn’t mind. Because it meant that they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“Shut up.” He gently nudges your shoulder with his.

~end~

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burntheedges-updates · 9 months

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over again, chapter 4: first date

Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, panic attack, dancing, pining, kissing, the smut has arrived, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), light manhandling, grinding, spit kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex (w/ condom), mention of breasts/nipples, praise kink, if I missed anything please let me know! If you'd like to skip the smut, check on ao3 - I've got notes there about what to skip a/n: Welcome to chapter 4! A day early!! It’s time for these two to go on a first date… and another first date, 20 years before. And oh yeah, the smut is here. The country night club in this chapter is based on one I frequented in the south in the early 2000s (lol). music note: More songs are mentioned in this chapter! All songs mentioned in this fic are on the playlist, which is linked below. word count: 13.3k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 3 || ch 5

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Chapter 4: First Date

Jackson, Spring 2024

You have dinner with Joel and Ellie a few more times over the next few weeks. Sometimes just the three of you, and sometimes with Tommy and Maria as well.

(Maria has warmed up a bit to Joel, following his return with Ellie in tow. She’s blunt and opens up more easily to people that have the Joel stamp of approval, which is just Tommy, sort of Maria, and you – all of the adults in her would-be family that don’t know how to talk to each other quite yet.)

Joel manages to join you for lunch a few times as well, and he listens to your tales of the gardens and the stables with the same slightly incredulous air that Tommy still does – you, an indoor girl, enjoying working outdoors. Anyone who knew you Before would never believe it, but no one here except the Miller brothers knows enough about you to find it at all odd. He laughs almost as loud at your story about getting stuck in the manure as Tommy did witnessing it. Right in the middle of the dining hall.

You and Joel also spend a couple of afternoons listening to the songs on the CD with Ellie and telling her a bit about each one. She likes the faster songs, like “Arrasando” and “Fruta Fresca”, and the ones that make her laugh, like “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” and “Pickup Man.”

(You tell her the story of how a woman hit on Joel in the grocery store parking lot, leaning suggestively on his pickup truck, and how she quoted the song (you know, there’s something women like about a pickup man), and how you and Sarah never let him live it down, singing the song to him every chance you got, playing up different parts (I never knew you were a pickup man!). You even got him to sing along eventually. She laughs so hard at your reenactment of it all that she falls off the couch. She and Sarah would have gotten along like a house on fire, you think.)

She scoffs a little at the romantic songs like the teenager she is.

Listening to the songs is hard, and you notice that Joel skips a couple of them (you don’t blame him, and both of you avoid the other’s eyes when he does). But Ellie brings a brightness to every room she’s in. Even as she’s cursing up a storm about missing her favorite food in the dining hall one night because of family dinner - right up until Tommy walks in the door with a plate, just for her. You can feel something in yourself start to bloom again as you tell stories about Sarah and Joel from Before to this child who asks questions about unexpected things, like strobe lights in clubs and menus at fancy restaurants and piñatas at family parties. It lets you take a step back and try to see it all through her eyes, unfamiliar and new. It’s refreshing even when it hurts.

You think it’s having the same effect on Joel, but you haven’t talked about it. You can only see what he’s showing on his face and you think it mirrors what’s on yours. You haven’t talked more about your 20 years apart, other than some small details here and there. Ellie hasn’t asked again. You see him looking at you sometimes like he wants to ask, wants to reach out, but he always hesitates. Slow.

After a few weeks (almost a month since they’ve been back in Jackson) of getting more comfortable around each other, Tommy ramps up his campaign to get the two of you to join him at the bar one night. You’ve been there with Tommy a few times, of course, but you haven’t been one for lingering there since you’ve been in Jackson. You were on your own for so long that at first it was odd to be around so many people. You know Joel has been with Tommy a few times, but he didn’t stay long, either. Always wanting to be home for Ellie.

Eventually Tommy pesters you into agreeing by getting Maria to hang with Ellie for the night – as much as they haven’t quite bonded yet, Ellie is still curious and a bit excited at the prospect of a baby, and the plan is for her to help decorate the nursery. You saw the look on her face when Joel referred to the baby as her cousin, and you think Ellie herself can’t look straight on at the emotion that came over her in that moment. She’s still getting used to the whole family thing. You and Joel are too, but you’re easing back into something you had once and lost, which is different than discovering something you’ve never had at all.

The night of your outing you don’t let yourself dither by your closet. You allow yourself two options and once you decide you head downstairs to meet Joel and Tommy by the road. For a moment you marvel, again, at the novelty of doing something that used to be mundane – choosing your outfit for a night out.

Tommy looks like he used to at Christmas, so excited to drag you both out of the house. Joel looks just as handsome as always — shoulders broad in his flannel shirt — but he’s also side-eyeing his brother like he might want to put him in a headlock if he doesn’t stop spilling good cheer everywhere.

“Alright, Millers, let’s get this show on the road.” You tuck an arm through both of theirs, one on each side like you used to do when you went out dancing. For a moment the once-familiar feeling of being surrounded by your family like this takes your breath away. But the three of you easily fall into step as you head towards the only bar in town.

“You should bring your CD out sometime, get everyone to dance.” Tommy looks hopeful as he makes his request, glancing between you and Joel as you walk.

“Maybe. I don’t want to lose it, or break it.”

“I know, sunshine – we can be careful.”

You shrug, and ask what kind of music is going on tonight. Sometimes there’s live music, a few people in town who can play various instruments, but often it’s this old-as-dirt jukebox that sometimes needs coaxing to play more than a few chosen songs without going rogue and disregarding whatever you picked next. Sounds like tonight is a jukebox night.

The three of you arrive at the bar, and as Tommy moves to enter ahead of you, Joel lets his hand slide down to twine his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand as the two of you step inside, reminding you of all the times he did that to reassure you Before, when you were still learning how to dance. It makes you smile.

Tommy waves you over to a table in the corner and heads to the bar to get drinks. You slide in beside Joel, feeling a bit awkward as you turn to him while you wait for Tommy to come back. “He’s just as smug as he was that first time you and I went line dancing with him.”

Joel huffs a laugh, looking uncomfortable in public in a way you’d never seen him Before. He keeps checking on the people in the bar, eyes never staying in one spot for long as he sweeps them over the room. As he turns back to you, he replies, “Tommy loves to make me uncomfortable.”

You tilt your head at him, considering. “I get now, I’m not totally comfortable here either, but then? You always seemed so confident when we went out dancing. Helped me shake off my nerves.”

“That was because of you, darlin’.” He leans closer. “It was impossible for me to feel uncomfortable with you on my arm. All I could see was you, anyway.” You duck your head a little to hide your reaction from the room, and he gives you that half smile that raises goosebumps down your arms, like it always did. “Before I met you he used to drag me out and I probably stuck out like a sore thumb, anxious and frowning in a corner by the bar.”

You laugh at the image, just as Tommy returns with your drinks. “What are you two laughing about over here, hmm?”

Your eyes meet Joel’s again, and he’s giving you a warning glance against Tommy’s teasing. “We’re just reminiscing about going out dancing.”

Tommy grins widely. “I’m telling you, we can have a dance night here. Just need the right music for it. The jukebox does alright, though there’s a lot of slower songs. It doesn't have the widest selection.”

“Neither do I, with just the one CD.”

Tommy shakes his head at your response. “Ah, but what a CD it is! I remember that mix. Sarah always had a way with a playlist.” You notice Joel shifting his weight at the mention of Sarah, but you decide not to draw attention to it.

“You just want me to embarrass myself with how little I remember.”

“Nope, not going to fall for a tall tale like that, sunshine. I heard from Ellie that you two still got it.” Tommy winks at you. You forgot what having a brother was like, with all the teasing, and you can’t help the swell of emotion in you as Tommy grins at you. You take a sip of your drink to cover it, and cough.

“What the hell is this?”

“What, you don’t like it? It’s the strongest thing we got.”

“Did someone make this in their bathtub? I thought we had whiskey in this town.” You hold up your glass to the light, eyeing the light brown liquid distrustfully.

Tommy smirks at you. “Sure we do, sunshine, but tonight’s for having fun.” You roll your eyes at him. Joel is hiding his face in his hand, but you know he’s just trying to hide how much he’s laughing at your back and forth.

“You, Tommy Miller, are trouble. Just as much now as you ever were then.” You point at him and go for a stern expression, but you miss by a mile when you start to laugh. He laughs, too, and Joel just shakes his head at the both of you.

“Aw come on, I’m an upstanding member of the community these days, you know? No one’s dragged me out of the drunk tank in Jackson.”

“Jackson doesn’t have a drunk tank, Tommy.”

“Semantics, sunshine.”

You and Tommy keep the show going through your first drink with only a little bit of input from Joel, but you can see him smiling and starting to enjoy himself. With the second drink comes the return of Tommy’s campaign for dancing.

“Look, I’ll go pick out a song from the jukebox, and I swear it’ll be a good one. See, there’s already a few people dancing.”

You look over, and sure enough, there are a few pairs sort of swaying in place by the jukebox. You turn back to Tommy with an unimpressed look on your face, but he grins unrepentantly. “You’ll just have to show them how it’s done, won’t you?”

He heads over to the jukebox anyway, so you turn to Joel. “What do you think? You up for it?” He looks around the room before his eyes return to yours.

“I’ve never turned down a chance to dance with you, darlin’, and I’m not about to start, even here.”

His words send heat rushing towards your face and you bite your lip to hide your reaction. He sees it anyway. “Smooth moves, Miller, as always.”

He shrugs. “With you, it’s always just been a matter of letting myself say what I want to say or what I’m feeling and somehow it works. I was never this smooth before you, so you should blame yourself, you know, you bring it out in me.” You shove his shoulder, laughing a little. “Or maybe it’s only meant to work on you.” He smiles a little when you roll your eyes, trying to hide the effect his words have on you. You wonder if the drink has opened him up a bit tonight, after your weeks of progress so slow you’ve almost been standing still. The thought makes you hesitate.

“Really, though, this is ok?”

He regards you for a moment, and his expression turns intent. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “it’s more than ok, darlin’. Let me show you.” You shiver all the way down your spine. You nod.

Tommy returns triumphant from the jukebox – he’s set the next two songs, but then can’t make any promises about what comes after. The first is playing now, a slow song that won’t really do, but it’s already almost over. Joel stands and extends his hand to you to guide you out of the booth and towards the small dance floor on the other side of the room near the jukebox.

Right as you get there the track changes, and you hear the familiar opening notes of “The Fireman.” You have to give it to Tommy – this is a good choice. Good for dancing, but not one that either you or Joel associate too many memories with. You take Joel’s right hand with your left as he places his left on your back.

“You ready?”

“Get on with it, cowboy.”

He smirks, and does just that. He doesn’t hesitate, just starts two-stepping across the small dance floor. It becomes clear pretty quickly that not only do the two of you remember the steps, you’re almost, if not just as good together now as you were then. He starts to get a little fancy with it and throws in some spins that lead you from one end of the dance floor to the other, followed by a pretzel. You find yourself laughing, exhilarated, and you see a similar expression on Joel’s face. He looks lighter, his shoulders a little taller. He brings you back to face him, doing some simple steps for a moment, and then gets a glint in his eye that you remember well.

“Joel–” is all you manage before he spins you out, pulls you back in, and you fall into his arms as he dips you, tipping you over his knee and off your feet, just for a moment. It’s not the fanciest move you’ve ever done with him, but it leaves you breathless, faces close together as he holds you there for a moment, smirking.

He sets you back upright, and slows it down a bit. You can’t drag your eyes away from his but neither of you say anything. It feels like you’ve created a bubble where it’s still 2002, and you and Joel are tearing across the dance floor in one of the clubs in Austin, like no time has passed. You even heard Tommy whistle over the music when Joel spun you off your feet. Just like old times.

As you let your body take over, you start to feel a tingling sensation that travels from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. You’re getting overwhelmed, and your body knows what to do, but your mind is checking out. It’s like you're experiencing two things at once – your memories, and what’s happening now. You realize that you and Joel are still moving, but both of your expressions have gone still and unreadable. When the music stops, so do you, and for a moment, neither of you move from your embrace.

Suddenly you notice that your heart is racing. You’re sweating and you’re out of breath. When did that happen? Joel’s chest is heaving, too. Distantly you remember Tommy saying he had no idea what song would come next and you wonder if you should move aside.

Before you can move even a finger, you hear the jukebox switching tracks, and you see the next song slam into Joel like a freight train. The first notes are barely over and he’s already pulled away from you, turning sharply and heading for the door so fast you realize your hands are still hanging in the air where he left them as the door to the bar closes behind him. You let them drop and start to move, you’re not sure where to, when you feel Tommy come up next to you.

“Hey, sunshine, you alright?” HIs hand comes up to support your elbow as he moves in front of you and blocks the room’s view. You want to respond, but all you can hear is Lonestar singing about being in love, and all you can see is the Millers’ backyard in 2002. You feel the ghost of Joel’s hands on you and you swear you can hear him singing “Amazed” to you as you sway in place. You remember choosing this song for your first dance at your wedding. You blink your eyes, dazed.

You fist your hand in Tommy’s shirt, shaking him a little. “I need… outside. I need to go outside. Tommy, take me outside.” He’s already leading you to the door before you finish speaking.

Outside, you turn sharply to the right, planning to prop yourself up against the outside wall of the bar and remember how to breathe, but you find that apparently Joel had the same thought. He’s got one hand on his chest and the other in a death grip on the frame of one of the windows. He’s gasping for breath. You and Tommy call out at the same time, but you don’t think he hears you.

Tommy starts to move towards him, but you elbow him away and slide between Joel and the wall, putting your right hand to his chest and moving his right hand from his chest to yours. “Joel, look at me.” He sucks in a breath and does, clutching at your shirt where you put his hand. “Breathe with me, ok, baby?” He doesn’t respond, but the two of you lock eyes and you start to breathe together. You can see Tommy out of the corner of your eye – he’s turned his back to the two of you, ushering people on as they pass by.

You breathe together for a little while and eventually, Joel’s breaths come more easily, as do yours. You feel his hand relax and yours does the same where you’re clutching his right arm, holding him in place. Both of you are shaking. He tries to speak, clears his throat, and tries again.

“I can’t…” You shake your head sharply, afraid to let him finish that sentence. He moves his hand from the window frame to your cheek in response and smooths his thumb across your cheekbone. It settles you.

“Let me try that again. I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t know if I can be that man anymore.”

You’re confused. “Joel, what man?”

“I’m not…” he takes a deep breath. “I’m a mess. I know I said slow, and we are moving slow, but I can’t see my way to our destination. I’m not the man I was Before and I don’t know if I can be him again.” He looks at you, eyes wide and afraid, and suddenly you’re angry. The words that have been caught in your throat for a month finally spill out.

“Joel, I’m not who I was Before, either. We’ve talked about it a little, but there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. Who I became and what I did. You don’t have a monopoly on the pain of the last 20 years, alright?” He opens his mouth, but you shake your head and tighten your grip on his right arm. “No. We need to talk, and we need to learn about each other. But the truth of you is still there.” You flatten your hand over his heart. “I can see you in there, Joel Miller. I can see you in how you parent Ellie and how you talk to Tommy and how you look at me. I can see the way you take care of us and the way you’ve started to step up to help the people here.” You grip his shirt and shake him a little, doing everything you can to keep eye contact. “It’s scary, sure, I’m terrified. But I’m not giving this up before it even starts because it’s hard, or because sometimes the memories will overwhelm us. I already lived 20 hard years without you and I’m not doing it again. Not when that’s not what either of us really want.”

Joel looks like you cracked open his chest, actually gripping his heart in your hand instead of his flannel shirt, his expression wild.

“All I’m asking, baby, is that you try. I can do one step forward, two steps back. As long as we keep going forward, it doesn’t matter how much we backtrack on our way.” He doesn’t respond right away – he looks over your face, and down to his hand on your chest and back up to meet your eyes. You can see tears glistening on his eyelashes.

“Alright, darlin’. You don’t have to convince me to go after what I want. I’ve just been afraid to let myself have it. I don’t… I don’t want you to discover I’ve become someone you can’t abide.”

You bring both hands up to cup his face. “Joel, I’m afraid of the same thing. But I want to figure it out together, not apart.” He nods, and turns his face into your right hand, taking a deep breath. You feel him kiss your palm, lightly, and you shiver. “We can still take the long way. I just want you to walk it with me.”

You feel the adrenalin of the last fifteen minutes start to leave you and suddenly you’re a bit unsteady on your feet. He holds you up, moving his hands to your waist.

“Are you alright, darlin’? Let’s sit down.” You shake your head.

“I think I’d like to head home.”

“Let me take you home, then.”

You both turn to find Tommy has moved a bit further away, but he’s still guarding you both from the foot traffic at the door. He looks over when you look at him, and smiles a little ruefully. “I’m sorry about that, y’all.”

“Nothing to apologize for, Tommy.”

“I can get that song off the jukebox–”

Joel interrupts him, firmly. “No, leave it. I might…” he sighs. “We might want to hear it. Later.” You smile at him a little as he tucks your right arm through his left.

You say goodnight to Tommy and start to head home. The streets of Jackson are dark and quiet. You’re both quiet, too, letting the intense moment you just had settle as you lean on each other for support. Soon enough your houses come into view, and Joel walks all the way to your front door before he stops and turns to you and says your name softly.

“I have to thank you. You always know what to say to get me out of my head.”

“You always did the same thing for me, you know? We were good together for a reason.”

He smiles, and nods. “I know it.”

You reach out to pull him in for a hug, and you both squeeze a bit tighter than you have so far, since your reunion. You feel his left hand cup the back of your neck as the right slides down your back and pulls you closer. You’ve been through an emotional wringer in the last half hour, but you still feel your body start to respond to this man. Like it always has.

You turn your head so you can speak quietly into his left ear. “I enjoyed our dance, you know? Before all that.” His hand takes a firm grip on the back of your neck and you shiver.

“Oh, I know you did. I could tell.”

You laugh, and smack him lightly on the shoulder. “Oh yeah? Well you were enjoying it too, I could see it.”

“Never said I wasn’t. Never could take my eyes off you on the dance floor.” He pulls back a bit, and you meet his eyes. Gone, for the moment, is the worry from before – what you see in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. He smirks at you and runs his thumb up the side of your neck.

“Can I kiss you goodnight, pretty girl?” As he says it he tilts your head up towards his. Joel has always called you darlin’, from the very first time you met, and you love it. But there were some pet names he only used at certain times and, well. Pretty girl has the same effect on you now as it did then. Between that and his hand on your neck you swear your feet float off the ground.

You’re breathless, but you manage an actual response. “I thought you’d never ask, cowboy.” He huffs a laugh at that, and then pulls you in close.

You’ve kissed Joel Miller countless times. He kissed you for the first time in his backyard in Austin in 2001 and after that you can’t even recall every time or place you kissed this man, there were so many. You wouldn’t say you got used to it, but you did come to expect it – Joel Miller, available and ready to be kissed by you, whenever you’d like. You knew him inside and out and you’d kissed him everywhere and every way you could imagine, back then.

But everything about this kiss is new.

Joel softly presses his lips to yours, tilting your head with his grip on your neck, strong and confident. You circle your arms around his waist, moving even closer as you press into the kiss. He moves with you, pulling back a little, but returning almost immediately and kissing you a little deeper, a little firmer. You part your lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he slides his hand down from your waist to brazenly grab your ass, deepening the kiss just a bit, running his tongue along your bottom lip and groaning slightly as you bite softly as his lip in response.

You’ve touched him where you’re touching him before and he’s touched you like this. But it doesn’t feel the same. It feels new, and heady. It feels like a first kiss and a millionth kiss all at once. He’s kissing you like he knows you, and he clearly remembers what you like, but it’s also like kissing a stranger. One who’s picked up new moves that just echo the ones you remember from Before. One whose body is familiar but also different, changed and aged in ways you haven’t had a chance to explore just yet.

Joel shifts his weight in a way that turns you slightly, allowing him to slide his hand down further and grip the back of your thigh before pressing you against your own front door. He uses his grip to pull your leg up, stepping closer and pinning you in place with his hips.

He tilts your chin up again with the hand on your neck and uses his thumb to open your mouth wide. You’re pressed tight between him and the door, sinking into your growing arousal, sinking into him. He looks down at you, mouth held open and waiting for him. You feel hot and dazed, watching as he runs his tongue across his own bottom lip slowly. He meets your eyes, gaze heavy, before lowering his head and devouring your mouth. You sneak your hands inside his shirt to run your nails up his back as your tongues tangle. Joel moans, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and thrusts his hips into yours. Your breath catches as you feel his arousal meet your own. You feel desire pooling in your lower abdomen and your legs start to shake.

You might have gone on like that all night – you might have let him fuck you against the door, unashamed, outside where anyone can see you – but a door a few houses down suddenly slams shut, startling you both.

Joel almost jumps away from you at the sudden interruption. Not far, he’s still got his hands on your hip and your neck. Your hands rest on his belt. He’s breathing hard and you suddenly realize you are, too. You shake your head, blinking, and start to claw your way back to awareness – your connection was so familiar, so easy, so much like Before. You’d sunk into those depths like slipping into a dream.

You blink at each other before you both let go at the same moment, standing up straight and stepping away. He lets his eyes dance over you, taking in your mussed clothes and swollen lips, before closing his own and pressing his palms to his eyes. He takes a deep breath. You can see the familiar outline of his cock in his jeans, and you force yourself to look away.

“I need to… I’m sorry, darlin’, but we shouldn’t. Not yet.” You nod. You try to convince yourself it’s the smart thing to do, even as you feel the pull of him like a magnet. Even if all you want in this moment is to pull him inside and make him finish what he started, just on the inside of the door this time. For some privacy.

“We still need to talk,” you manage. Your voice sounds unfamiliar to your own ears, but Joel nods in response. “But we agreed, right? This, us, together – that’s the destination. Even if we take it slow.”

“Slow,” he repeats, eyes lingering on your lips. He blinks, and meets your eyes. “Slow, yes.”

“We should walk away before we jump each other where the whole town can see.” You smile as you say it. It doesn’t sit right on your face. You take a deep breath and move to open your door without taking your eyes off Joel.

He smiles back, and nods. His attempt looks just as uncomfortable as yours. “Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you tomorrow? Or soon?”

“Of course. Tomorrow.” Your feet feel rooted in place until he finally manages a step off of your porch. Your face feels like a mask as you try to present something pleasant, agreeable, fine with watching your heart walk away from you. The connection you just reawakened pulls taut between you and tugs at something deep in your chest. You keep your eyes on each other, and once he reaches his own porch you finally open your door. You take one last look, chest tight, before entering your houses at the same time.

Inside, you close your door and immediately slide down against it to sit on the floor, head in your hands.

...

Austin, Spring 2001

You and Joel talked a few times between Sunday and Friday – standing in your front yard, once, and over the phone twice, finalizing your plans and flirting so much you found yourself not paying attention and getting wound up in the cord of the old phone that came with the house. He told you not to waste your limited texts on him, the dinosaur, but you texted him a couple of times anyway. Sarah must have taught him a few things because he actually sent you a winky face back once. It made you laugh and clutch your phone to your chest like some kind of swooning maiden. You told Emily, your friend at work, and she laughed at you so hard she snorted soda up her nose at lunch. Served her right.

Friday arrived just in time to save you from working yourself up too much into a state of anticipation and nerves. You made yourself stick with the outfit you had picked out on Wednesday night when you talked to Joel on the phone and tried to figure out what was appropriate to wear dancing. He told you you’d be beautiful no matter what, but you wanted to look good on his arm for your first – and long awaited – date. You ran the outfit by Emily, too, and she gave it her official born-and-bred-in-Texas stamp of approval. (She also told you it was a good idea to wear jeans, because everyone else would likely do the same.) It wasn’t going to get much better than that.

Joel was going to pick you up at 7:30 after he dropped Sarah off for her sleepover. At 7:15 you were standing in your entryway with nothing left to do, feeling a little foolish. You looked around for something to occupy you and had just decided you’d put some dishes in the dishwasher, maybe, when there was a knock at the door. You glanced at the clock –7:17 – and raised one eyebrow while opening the door to find Joel on the other side. He was wearing cowboy boots, black jeans that were so tight in the hips it should have been illegal, and a button up green shirt that made your mouth water at how it showed off every line of his torso.

“A bit early, aren’t we?” you teased, leaning your shoulder against your door frame and crossing your arms.

“Well hello there, beautiful. I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. And you answered that door pretty quick, you know, to be teasing me like that. Were you waiting for me?” He grinned at you and winked. What a flirt.

“Maybe I was. You’re looking pretty sharp yourself, cowboy.”

Joel offered his hand to you and you took it, stepping outside to join him before locking your front door. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

He handed you into his truck and set off for the taco place he’d been on you to try for months.

(He’d learned earlier in the week while you were talking in your front yard that you still hadn’t gone, and the incredulous way he said your name had made you laugh.

“How? Darlin’, we told you about it months ago!”

“I’m busy, ok! And maybe I was waiting for an invitation.” You smiled and raised one eyebrow at him.

He grinned, but shook his head.

“Well, this can’t stand, darlin’. Seems like I’ll just have to take over from here, hmm? Make sure my girl is getting the best Austin has to offer.” He definitely caught your reaction to my girl, stepping closer and cupping your face with his right hand. You smiled at him, a little dazzled.

“Pretty sure of yourself, huh, cowboy?” You smoothed your hands around his waist and linked your fingers at the small of his back.

“Nah. Pretty damn sure of how much you deserve to be taken care of, more like.” You felt like you were going to swoon again, and really, twice in one week? This man.)

So you headed towards the taco place in the truck. Joel asked you about your week at work, how your students were doing, and he smiled a little when you told him that Emily approved your outfit for a night of dancing.

“You tell her thank you from me, darlin’, I sure do approve, too.” He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. You laughed and rolled your eyes a little, moving to hold his hand.

The taco place turned out to be pretty crowded, but there were plenty of tables outside and soon you were settled with tacos and drinks. Your table was cozy, a two-person set-up right towards the end of their outdoor deck, which was strung with fairy lights.

“Well? What do you think?”

“It’s lovely, Joel.” You felt his boot slide forward and settle against your foot. You smiled at him, resting your chin in your hand. “I’m glad you asked me out.”

Joel reached over and ran his thumb across your bottom lip, fingers cupping your jaw. “You got no idea how glad I am that you said yes, darlin’.” You opened your mouth to respond, but he left his thumb there, right in the middle of your bottom lip. He pressed down gently and you couldn’t help but dart your tongue forward to meet it. You watched as he inhaled sharply, staring at your mouth. You opened a little wider.

Joel shook himself and cleared his throat, pulling his hand away. “We should eat, baby. We got some dancing to do later.” He picks up a taco.

You smiled, enjoying the effect you clearly had on him, as strong as the effect he had on you. “Right. Dancing.” He shot you a look, picking up what you were implying.

“Eat your tacos, troublemaker.”

“Yes sir!” He coughed at your response, and you laughed, finally relenting. You picked up your own taco and took a bite.

You moaned.

“Joel! This is amazing!” You looked up from your food to find him watching you, dark eyes intent. “What?”

He just grinned, slow and smooth. “Nothing, darlin’.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but didn’t press.

Over dinner you talked more about your week, about the family party the Millers had coming up, about your worries for your students as you hit the midpoint in the semester. Joel asked you about your coworkers and some of your students by name, and your heart warmed just knowing he remembered them from the stories you’d told him. That he listened and cared.

He told you about the projects he and Tommy were working on now, and some of his frustrations with his crew and the clients. You realized, as you listened, that Joel had never really held back from sharing himself like this, not with you. You knew all of his crew by name and reputation, at this point. You could ask after their partners and you knew their roles on the team. He’d been opening himself up to you the whole time, just like you had with him. You’d barely noticed at first because you hadn’t had anything to compare it to, no idea he could be so careful and distant with people he didn’t know. Knowing him the way you did now, well. You smiled, still listening.

The fairy lights were setting everything off in a warm glow, but you felt like that glow was inside of you, too. Like the connection between the two of you was lighting you up from the inside. Your fingertips were tingling.

You wrapped your ankles around one of his under the table and squeezed. He winked at you in response.

Around 9 you got back in Joel’s truck to head to the club he and Tommy had told you about. Apparently they sometimes played Latin music, but tonight was going to be all country, which meant two-stepping and line dancing. You felt your nerves, which had faded during dinner, start to return.

“Joel, you sure I know enough to go dancing? We barely got started last week.”

He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh again. “You’re ready, darlin’. Just follow my lead – I won’t throw anything too fancy at you.”

You sent him a look. “Something tells me I shouldn’t believe you.”

He grinned, tapping his fingers against your thigh, sending tingles down your spine. “I did say nothing too fancy.”

You soon arrived and Joel opened the car door for you in front of a large wooden building with neon figures in cowboy hats dancing across the facade. He took your hand again, lacing your fingers together, and started walking towards the entrance where there was a small line. It moved quickly and way too soon you were moving inside. Joel squeezed your hand as you entered the club.

The first thing that hit you was the sound – “Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up)” was blasting through the dark space. You looked around, noticing the tiered side areas with tables and couches surrounding a huge dance floor sunk into the middle of the club. It was absolutely teeming with people line dancing on one side and two-stepping on the other. You looked at Joel and grinned. “Where to first, cowboy?” He smiled back and tugged you towards the dance floor. As you approached you noticed the bar nearby on the first level.

He leaned close so you could hear him, his lips brushing your ear. “Let’s get a drink and then we can watch for a minute, let you get comfortable.” You nodded, smiling at how well he anticipated what would put you at ease.

He got you drinks and somehow snagged a high bar table close to the dance floor. You stepped up to it and he stepped up close to you, to your side and behind you, curving his left arm around your waist. He put his mouth next to your ear again. “What do you think, darlin’?”

You leaned back a little, letting your back touch his chest as you turned towards him to reply. “They’re dancing pretty fast out there, Joel. I don’t think I can keep up.” He raised his right hand to touch your chin lightly, turning your head to the left a bit.

“Look over there, do you see the split?” As soon as he pointed it out you saw it. Yes, there were some dancers going so fast it made your head spin, but there was an area off to the left where pairs were dancing slower, and some looked like they were still learning, like you. “Everyone here is real polite, real aware of each other. No one’ll make you go fast before you’re ready.”

It reassured you, and you leaned back a little more into his chest. He tightened his arm around your waist. “Thanks, cowboy. That does make me feel better.” He grinned at you and winked again.

As you finished your drinks he pointed out people doing the steps he’d taught you, showing you the different ways they could fit together with other things you hadn’t learned yet. You realized the song was changing, and “My Maria” started up. It was a bit slower than the songs had been so far, which seemed like a sign.

You turned to look at Joel. “Should we give it a go?”

He looked surprised, and then pleased that you suggested it. “Let’s get out there, darlin’.” Before he moved away he leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing your breath and then grabbing your hand to lead you to the dance floor. As you reached it, he turned backwards, leading you with both hands into an open spot. He moved you into the stance he’d taught you on Sunday.

“Just follow me, baby. I’ll guide you right.” You nodded and took a deep breath, and then he started moving.

It amazed you how quick you shook off your nerves in Joel’s arms. He was right, you did have a good handle on the basic steps, and he smoothly led you around your little area of the dance floor, deftly steering you around other dancers. He even threw in a spin that left you a little dizzy. “Joel!”

“Sorry, darlin’.” He grinned, not looking sorry at all. “Just wanted to give it a try.”

You smiled back, charmed by his easy confidence on the dance floor. “Just warn me next time.”

A couple songs on the slower side followed “My Maria.” After three, you felt like you were letting the dance happen more naturally instead of staring at your own feet so much. Joel was smiling at you softly, and soon he sent you into another spin and caught you close. You stumbled a little and smiled at him. You realized neither of you were moving. You’d frozen in the middle of the dance floor, when his gaze darted down to your lips.

You'd moved a little closer, breathless, when the crowd suddenly cheered, startling you into stepping back and looking around. You looked at Joel, who was grinning.

“What’s going on?” you asked, but then you heard it. Most of the men were leaving the dance floor – the women in the room took over as “Man! I Feel Like A Woman!” started up. You laughed, but then stopped when you realized Joel was moving away, too.

“Wait, I don’t know what to do!” You were about to get corralled into one of the lines of dancers that was forming around you.

“Just follow along!” he called, grinning. You looked around and saw a woman you didn’t know beckon you closer.

“I’ll show you! Come on!” She broke it down for you slowly, and soon you were moving with the rest of the crowd. It wasn’t that difficult, you realized, just showy. You noticed some were throwing in spins and kicks, but you focused on the basic steps. Once you had a handle on it you looked up, looking for Joel.

When you found him, you almost froze in place. He was looking right at you, and by the look on his face, you knew he hadn’t looked away from you once. He was watching you with dark eyes, intent. It sent a shiver down your spine and you wanted to run to him, or for him to come back and dance with you again. He had a hand on his chin and he slowly rubbed his thumb along his lower lip as you met his eyes. You stumbled a little over the next step and he smirked, not meanly, more knowingly. You smiled back.

For the rest of the song you felt his eyes on you, and you felt like you were dancing only for him. It made you a little bolder – you swayed your hips more and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was angled low. It spurred you on.

By the end of the song you were breathless, and you’d worked yourself up so much you needed a break before you hauled off and dragged him into the bathroom. When you met his eye you knew he was feeling the same way.

The crowd surged a bit as you approached, and you tipped forward into his arms at the edge of the dance floor. “How did I do?” you asked, grinning. He studied you, looking slowly down your body and back up. Your face heated in response.

He leaned forward, arms around your waist, lips brushing your ear again, and said, lowly, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You tore up that dance floor, baby. Let me take you for another spin.” You closed your eyes and leaned your head against his, overwhelmed.

“Be My Baby Tonight” was playing then, and it was fast and a little intimidating. You turned your head towards him. “Get me a water, first, and then you can spin me all around the dance floor, cowboy.”

He ducked his head into your neck, leaving a kiss behind your ear, and then nodded. He turned and headed straight to the bar as you leaned against the high table next to you for support. You steadied yourself, taking several deep breaths. Dancing now. More of… that later. The thought made you chuckle, but you closed your eyes briefly against the heady anticipation it sparked in you at the same time.

Joel reappeared back in front of you quickly, drinking his own water and watching you intently as you finished yours. “Daddy’s Money” faded into “Shut Up and Kiss Me” as he grabbed your hand to lead you back onto the dance floor without saying a word. Your heart was racing as you followed, eyes locked on his.

The practice and the line dancing had flipped a switch in you, and you found yourself adding little things that made the dance your own. Swinging your hips a bit slower, throwing in an extra twist, spinning faster. Joel met you step for step and encouraged you with every addition. The rest of the club fell away as the two of you moved in sync. You barely noticed when he threw in a new move – a backwards spin of some kind. He smoothly guided you in and out of it, grinning smugly when it worked.

You danced straight through two more songs (“Fast as You” and “God Blessed Texas”, which the crowd loved). When “What About Now” started you found yourselves pressed even closer together, after the crowd that had formed for “God Blessed Texas”. You kept moving, but Joel caught your eyes right as the chorus started and your breath caught. He pulled you close and, to your surprise, sang softly into your ear, “How ‘bout tonight? Baby for once let’s don’t think twice.” You knew he could play guitar, and he’d mentioned before that he’d wanted to be a singer when he was a kid, but he’d never sung for you. You felt his voice, soft like velvet, sink deep into you and you squeezed your thighs together.

You pulled away and caught his eye, coming to a stop on the dance floor. He looked uncertain for a moment before he saw the look on your face.

“Let’s get out of here, cowboy.”

He smiled wide and immediately turned and led you through the crowd towards the door. It took longer than you wanted but eventually you emerged into the cool night air outside of the club.

At his truck he stopped and slipped his arm around your waist. He whispered in your ear, “where to, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel.”

“Just home?”

You smirked at him. “Why don’t you get me there and find out?”

He laughed, opening the door for you and jogging around to throw himself into the driver seat. As soon as he had the truck in drive his right hand was back on your thigh. Higher this time, and with his thumb rubbing a small circle into the outside while his fingers gripped the inside firmly. You sighed and sank a little lower in your seat. He glanced at you, and stood a little harder on the gas pedal.

Joel must have set a record between the club and your house, but soon enough you were pulling up in the driveway and he was opening the car door for you once again. You walked to your front door with him hovering right behind you, hands lightly brushing over your hips as he moved in step with you.

You unlocked the door, but before you could open it he grabbed your hips and spun you around. You found yourself sandwiched between him and the door, left hand firm on your hip, right hand against the door to the side of your head. The echo of your dance positions made your heart race.

He leaned in close, brushing his lips across your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “you got plans tonight, pretty girl?” You heard yourself gasp, lightly, and reached out to loop your fingers through his belt buckles.

“Met some cowboy at the club. He followed me home, trying to get in my pants.”

Joel laughed, and moved a little closer. His left hand moved from your hip to your neck, thumb in front along your collarbone. “Well, are you going to let him?”

You hummed and pretended to think about it. “I dunno. You think he’s any good?”

Joel met your eyes, sliding his left hand to the back of your neck and squeezing. You inhaled sharply and you knew he could see the effect he had, written all over your face. He leaned in and his lips brushed against yours as he replied, “well, baby, you can be the judge of that, alright? After I make you come on my hand,” he kissed you, “and my mouth,” he kissed you again, “and my cock,” he kissed you one last time.

Your head was spinning at his words and you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. You thrust your hips against his right thigh, firm between your legs. He squeezed his hand around the back of your neck again and you gasped as he moved back a little.

“Well then, cowboy. Take me to bed.”

He reached behind you and opened the door, pulling you in by the waist as he deftly maneuvered you around it and into your dark hallway. He pulled the door closed and locked it with one hand behind him, never even moving away from you, before backing you into the wall to your living room.

“I’ll take you to bed, pretty girl, but I think I’ll take you right here first.”

Your back hit the wall but he didn’t stop, moving forward until his front pressed all along yours. He caught your lips with his, moving his hand back to its new spot around the back of your neck in a strong grip. With his other hand he undid your jeans, then used both hands to start to pull them down. You reached down to help, but stopped when you realized Joel’s eyes had caught on your underwear. Particularly the lace.

“This for me, darlin’?” As he asked he slipped his fingers into the slide of your underwear before moving his hands around to the back and reaching inside to grab your ass cheeks, one in each hand. You thrust your hips towards his, brushing lightly against his jeans.

“You see any other cowboys here?”

He grinned. “I think I like the idea of you picking these out, thinking about what I might like.”

“Wait until you see what else I’ve got up there.”

“Oh, I plan to.” He stepped back in to press you against the wall, moving his left hand back to your neck and his right hand around to the front to slip inside your underwear. “Mouth or fingers first, baby? What do you think?”

You let your head fall back and rest against the wall, breathless at his question.

“Come on, baby. Good girls ask for what they want.” As soon as the words left his mouth you whined, surprising yourself, a tiny noise in the back of your throat, barely there at all. But he heard it. “Oh, do you want to be my good girl?” The effect his words had on you was obvious – chest heaving, eyes closed, heat rushing to your face. “That’s good, baby, that’s real good. Now tell me what you want.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to focus as his fingers moved lower in your underwear. “Your mouth.” You opened your eyes to see him grinning at you, eyes dark.

“That’s my good girl.” He leaned forward, voice low in your ear. “Now, let me hear you moan for me like you did back in the restaurant, got it? I want to hear it, baby. Don’t hold back.” And without another word, he sank to his knees in front of you. You steadied yourself on the wall behind you, unable to tear your eyes away from him as he pulled off your shoes, and then your jeans, and then your underwear. You stepped out of them as he ran his hands back up your legs to your hips. He placed a light kiss on each of your hips, sending sparks straight to your pussy. Your legs started to shake. His right hand moved back down to reach behind your thigh and he lifted it over his shoulder. Any self consciousness you might have felt at opening yourself to him like that was immediately quashed by the hungry look on his face.

“Oh, pretty girl. I can’t believe I waited this long to get a look at this pretty pussy.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss just above your clit. You took a breath that sounded like a sob. “I’m going to treat you right.” He was looking straight at your pussy as he said it.

He leaned in and started with a slow lick, from your hole all the way up to your clit. You felt it like a tremor that ran from your toes to the base of your spine, almost taking you out at the knees.

“Fuck.” Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair, but not pushing. He glanced up to meet your eyes before doing it again, this time maintaining eye contact. You felt like you were about to hyperventilate.

“Breathe, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

You whined again, softly, and he grinned. As he moved back to press his lips lightly to your clit, he brought up his right hand to tease his fingers at your entrance. He pressed his tongue down on your clit slowly, softly, before tracing the tip of it towards your hole. He pressed there, hinting at pushing his tongue past your entrance. You tightened your hands in his hair and he smiled, kissing you, right there, and then slowly pushed his tongue inside while his fingers moved up to brush against your clit.

You felt like you were floating, like last week when you danced, and again tonight when you were so in sync on the dance floor. It was like he could read you and knew what you wanted before you knew you wanted it. He thrust his tongue inside, curling it a way that made you gasp, pushing your hips towards his face involuntarily. You moaned, low. He caught you with his left hand on your hip and pushed you back into the wall.

“Good girl. Let me hear it.” He teased you again with the tip of his tongue. "You taste so good, baby. I could stay right here for hours.” You shuddered and he moved his fingers down to circle your entrance again. He pushed one slowly inside you. At the same time, he placed an open mouth kiss directly on your clit, lightly tonguing it as he found the spot inside of you that made you shiver.

He kept it up as you moaned again, mercilessly thrusting his finger inside while lavishing your clit with attention from his lips and tongue.

You felt your orgasm start to build slowly, from the base of your spine. It radiated up your back and tingled over your scalp, overwhelming you entirely as you pushed down with your hands in his hair and thrust into his mouth. His hand and shoulder held you up as your knees shook. “Joel, I–”

“I know, baby. I can feel you squeezing my finger. That’s it, pretty girl, let me see you come.” The wash of fire over you made you arch your back, and you called out his name as it took you. He worked you through it until you gently pushed his mouth away.

You heaved a breath and looked down at him, finding him just as wrecked as you, his entire face wet from being buried in your pussy. You watched as he used your hip to pull himself up, standing over you as he pulled his middle finger from inside you and slipped it into his mouth. His eyes slipped shut and he made a noise like he couldn’t get enough. Your mouth went dry.

Joel opened his eyes and reached for you, pulling you into his chest. “That’s one, baby. Ready for two?” You shuddered but fell forward, into his arms.

“I think I need to lie down first.”

He grinned, and wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you close to lean on him and walking backwards while holding you up. “Let me take care of that for you.”

“Joel, I can walk!” You laughed as you said it.

“Nonsense, darlin’. Happy to have you in my arms, now that it’s my job to make your legs shake.” He winked at you and tightened his hold around your waist, drawing you into a kiss at the bottom of the stairs. You couldn’t help but notice how good his arms looked, supporting you like that. You tucked your head into one side of his neck and kissed lightly behind his ear and along his hairline. He tilted his head to give you better access, humming. Then he lightly swatted your ass cheek.

“Let’s get upstairs, pretty girl.” He encouraged you to go up in front of him, and you grinned over your shoulder at him, knowing exactly why. He stared directly at your naked ass, unrepentant.

Once you reached your bedroom you started to pull your shirt off, but he suddenly grabbed you by the hips and turned you towards him. He reached around behind you to grab your ass in both hands, pulling you into a searing kiss. Before you knew it he was walking you towards the bed, letting you fall onto it backwards. You bounced slightly and your legs splayed open as he stripped off his shirt, grinning at the sight of you.

“Look at you, pretty girl. Why don’t you take off that top for me.” You did, and watched him remove his boots and jeans, too.

Soon he was crawling on the bed, leaning over you on his left elbow while he slid his right hand up your leg, over your torso and finally to your cheek, where he pressed gently to turn you towards him and into a kiss.

“I dreamed about you like this, you know. For a while now.” As he said it he moved his hand back down, teasing your nipple lightly. “You, spread out on a bed, just for me.”

You kissed his cheek as he turned to look down your body, which squirmed a little under his gaze. “I did too, Joel.”

“What did you dream about, baby?”

You bit your lip to hide a smile. “Everything.”

He hummed, and moved his lips to your ear. He murmured your name. “I thought you wanted to be a good girl for me, hmm? Now, what did you dream about?” As he said it he tweaked your nipple slightly, making you gasp.

“Your mouth,” you breathed it so quietly he nudged you with his nose to spur you on. You cleared your throat. “Your mouth, and your fingers. Can’t keep my eyes off your shoulders, never could, even that first day. Couldn’t stop imagining them moving over me as you fucked me.” Your voice was steady, but Joel took the opportunity to drop kisses down your neck, moving towards your chest. You started talking faster. “Your arms, holding me up as you fucked me against a wall. Your lips… everywhere. Your thick fingers, sneaking inside my underwear. Being full of you. Being good for you. Using my mouth on you, sucking you off. Riding you in the backyard. Sneaking into the bathroom together on a night out. Sneaking over in the middle of the night to wake you up by sucking your cock. Waking up to your mouth…” You sucked in a breath as he lightly took your left nipple between his teeth. Your mind blanked. You couldn’t remember anything more. “Everything, baby.”

He twisted his tongue around your nipple before sucking a kiss into the side of your breast. You sank your fingers into his hair as you arched towards him.

“That’s my good girl, yeah? Where should we start?”

“What?”

He looked up at you. “Pick one, baby. Let’s cross something off your list.”

You smiled at him, a little shy. “What about your list?”

“Well, we have plenty of time. And don’t you worry about that.” He crawled over you, legs on either side of your hips, bulge obvious in his underwear. “You’re my list, baby. Everything you said, and everything else we can do, anywhere we can do it.”

You thought about calling him on the lack of specifics, like he did to you, but you knew you’d rather let him follow through on that promise.

“I want your fingers, Joel. Mouth, fingers, then cock, right?” You looked him straight in the eye as you said it. “How many do you think I can take?” He blinked, and then grinned wickedly.

��A good girl like you? I think you’ll take as many as I want to give you, don’t you?” Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your mouth with his. This time he skipped past any build up and tangled your tongues together as he pressed down on top of you. Your legs were still trapped between his as he ground his cock, still hidden inside his briefs, against your hip. You ran your nails up his back and into his hair.

He shifted his weight to the side, freeing your left leg, which he grabbed at your thigh to push it to the side, opening your pussy to him again. He traced his fingers lightly from your knee to your hip, still kissing you deeply. Once he reached your pussy he traced through the remnants of your first orgasm.

He pulled back slightly, still close enough that his lips touched yours. “Is this pretty pussy always this wet?” You moaned as he slid one finger between your folds, teasing at your entrance.

“It is for you.”

“Even when you touch yourself, thinking about me?” Your face heated a little, and you turned your head. “Don’t be shy, pretty girl. Nothing gets me going faster than thinking about you – how you look when you’re concentrating, when you’re dancing in your kitchen, when you’re relaxing on the couch in those little shorts you wear around the house.” As he spoke he kissed along your jaw and pressed gently with his finger at your entrance. Almost inside. “I think about your hair on my pillow, your thighs around my head, your mouth on my cock, your pussy on my face, your legs around my waist in my shower, and I can barely keep myself from coming in my pants like a teenager.” He slid his finger inside you, and you moaned again, clutching at his shoulders. “That’s it, baby. Now tell me. Do you get this wet when you touch yourself and think of me?” His voice was stern and his finger curled inside you, making you push your hips towards his hand.

“Yes,” you breathed, turning your lips to his. “I’m always wet for you, Joel.” He took your mouth again, thrusting his tongue as he thrust his finger inside you.

“Good girl.” His voice rumbled, low, deeper than you’d ever heard it. He slipped another finger inside you. “That’s two fingers, baby.” He thrust his fingers in and out of you as he devoured your mouth. He slid his left forearm along the bed until his hand was behind your head and he gripped the back of your neck again. “Let’s try a third, hmm?”

You curved your hips into his hand as he added a third finger, stretching you wide and filling you up. You could feel a buzzing in your ears and a tingle at the back of your neck where he held you in his strong grip.

“That’s so good, baby. Taking my fingers so well. How does it feel?” He squeezed the back of your neck with his left hand as he curled his fingers upwards inside of you. You heard yourself whine before you realized you were doing it.

“Tell me, pretty girl. How does it feel?”

You sucked in a breath, and replied, “it’s so good, Joel.” You clenched around his fingers. “I – I need–”

He sucked a kiss into your neck, and then under your ear. “Tell me.”

“My clit—” you trailed off again as he moved his thumb right where you wanted it. You closed your eyes. He started drawing circles with his thumb as he thrust his fingers into you. You clenched your fists in his hair and in the sheets. You could feel it coming.

“Joel, I’m close,” you arched your back into him as he held your neck down in his hand.

“I can see that, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me? Let go, and let me see you come. I want to see it up close this time, see your pretty face.”

As soon as he told you to, you did. Blood rushed in your ears as you arched your chest off the bed, thrusting your hips toward his hand. The orgasm took you hard – you saw stars, felt it radiating out from your core to the tips of your fingers and toes. You might have called his name, but you couldn’t be sure. When you came down you heard yourself breathing hard and realized Joel was murmuring your name in your ear. “That was beautiful, darlin’, I’ve never seen anything so pretty. I knew you’d come so nice, you had to, so fucking gorgeous. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, and all for me. You were such a good girl for me, honey.”

You caught your breath, and then caught his face between your hands, pulling him into a searing kiss. He smiled at you after. You slid your right hand down, trailing over his chest and into his underwear. You gripped his cock in your hand. “I believe you promised another on this cock, cowboy.” It was his turn to moan and thrust his hips forward as you ran your thumb across the tip.

“You know I’m good for it.” You helped when he reached to push his underwear down, then kicked it somewhere on the floor. You took his cock in your hand again, marveling a little at the girth.

“I knew you were big, Joel, but damn.” He straightened his shoulders a little, looking smug. He caught your eye and winked.

“You knew it, huh?”

“You weren’t the only one looking, baby. I’ve seen you in your swim trunks. And that day your pants slipped down a little, on the ladder? Well, you should have worn a belt, is all I’m saying.” He laughed.

He raised his right hand to trail his fingertips down your face and neck, and traced the shape of your right breast lightly. “Maybe I wanted you to look.” You tightened your grip on his cock and he pinched your nipple in response before moving his hand lower and cupping your pussy.

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” he shifted his hand to your thigh, pushing slowly to make you bend your knee up to your chest. You nodded. “Hmm, I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck me, Joel. I’m not waiting any longer.” He lifted his head and grinned at you. You grinned back. He reached over and grabbed a condom from your nightstand and made quick work of opening it and slipping it on.

“Well I know better than to keep a pretty girl like you waiting.” He shifted his weight, hovering over you. You moved your hands to his hips, but he picked up your right hand with his left and laced his fingers through yours before pinning your hand to the bed above your head. You shifted into it, loving the feeling of being held in place. You traced his shoulders with your eyes, watching as his muscles moved to hold you there. He tucked your left leg around his waist, your right rising immediately to meet it.

Then he reached down to take his cock in hand and tease along your pussy from your clit down to your hole.

“You’re so wet, baby. Ready for me, hmm?”

You curved your hips towards him, catching the tip of his cock between your folds. “Always, Joel.”

He thrust his hips forward in response, notching the tip right at your entrance. “Christ, darlin’, this is already so fucking good.” He was watching, looking at his cock just kissing your pussy. You felt heat rushing through you, watching him look.

“Now, cowboy. Give it to me.” He met your eyes again and did exactly as you said, pushing inside, studying your face. Your mouth fell open as you felt first the head and then the rest, stretching you wider than his fingers. You watched him lick across his bottom lip as he filled you up. He was staring at your open mouth. You were panting, tongue lax, surrendering to the stretch. You watched as he let spit gather on his tongue and then slip out, falling directly from the tip of his tongue into your open mouth. You caught it on your tongue and held it there. Your eyes snapped back to meet each other’s gaze as you moaned, loud. He thrust his hips forward, filling you the rest of the way in one swift motion.

He leaned down and licked inside your mouth, running his tongue along yours as he pulled back and slammed into you again, pushing you up the bed. For a moment you were both in a frenzy, your hips crashing together as you opened your mouths wide, tongues tangling, breaths coming hot and fast.

You twisted your hips, squeezing your legs around him, and he pulled his mouth away from yours. “You are so fucking hot, you know that? I ain’t never seen anything like you, never felt anything like this.” He was breathing heavily as he sped up his thrusts, reaching around your left hip and squeezing your ass cheek in his right hand. Pulling your pussy closer with his grip. “You’re taking me so well, such a fucking good girl for me.” You gasped, tossing your head back. “Feels like this pussy was fucking made for me. Christ.”

You could barely breathe, but you managed, “It was, Joel. All yours. No– nobody else.”

“Fucking right, all mine.” He pulled almost all the way out before slamming his cock back in. He tilted his head down and nipped at your neck where it met your shoulder. “All for me.”

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.”

He growled, speeding up his thrusts. He slipped his right hand from your ass back around your hip, sliding his fingers down to your pussy again. He tapped your clit once, sharply, and you let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. It sent a piercing arousal through you that made you tighten your legs around his waist. He grinned, and did it again, before starting to work at your clit in time with the strokes of his hips.

He licked from your collarbone to your ear, whispering, “You ready to give me that third one, baby? I want you to come on my cock.” You whimpered and nodded. “Let me have it then.” He was filling you so perfectly, you could feel your orgasm building again. “Let me see it again. Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. Show it to me, baby. Please.” He bit down on the hinge of your jaw and you felt it hit you again. You squeezed his cock, tight, clenching your pussy as you came. This time it didn’t stop, the movement of his hips and fingers just kept it going, longer than you’d ever felt before. You fell into it. “Good girl,” he grunted as you felt his hips speed up, losing his steady pace. You felt like your orgasm shifted into a new gear as you clutched at his hair and cried out. He thrust hard into you one last time and your eyes flew open, yanking his face from your neck to watch his face as he came.

You locked eyes as you both tumbled over and came down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had in your life. You were breathing hard, breath mixing together as you stared at each other.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of your favorite half smile. “Holy shit, Joel.”

He brushed his nose slowly along yours and moved his hips forward one more time. You gasped. “I knew it’d be this good,” he murmured. “Had to be. Fucking made for me, I knew it.” You smiled softly and pressed your lips to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. He caught your lips in a gentle kiss. “Such a good girl, all for me.” Despite how you’d spent the last hour with this man, you felt your face heat a little. He kissed your cheek.

You both took a deep breath and he pulled out slowly, catching the condom with his right hand. He moved away to dispose of it and you stretched languidly, twisting your hips. You’d never felt so content, so satisfied.

He came back quickly, cloth in hand to clean you both up before slipping under the covers with you. He pulled you close, tucking your head onto his chest and gripping your waist firmly with his arm down your back. With the other hand he traced designs on the arm you had flung across his chest.

“I’m mighty glad I asked you out tonight, darlin’.”

You smiled into his chest. “I’m mighty glad I said yes, cowboy.” He laughed at your imitation of his accent.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You sure do.” He reached down and tapped your ass lightly in retaliation.

“Don’t you want to be nice to me, after I was so nice to you?”

You lifted your head to look at him, and he was grinning. You shifted your weight so your left hip rested on top of his, bringing your left hand to support your chin on his chest as you looked at him. “You and I both know you like it when I tease you.” He shook his head, but couldn’t hide his smile.

“Well, you got me. But it just means you fit right in.” You were a little dazzled at the idea of fitting in so well with his family – you knew he meant Sarah and Tommy.

For a moment you just looked at each other. His eyes swept over you, catching on where his now soft cock rested against your hip. You felt your heartbeat begin to slow and enjoyed the feeling of Joel pressed against you everywhere. You let your eyes start to fall shut. He reached over and tapped your chin lightly.

“I know it’s early, darlin’, but I can’t help but imagine sharing a bed with you like this all the time.” He met your eyes, a little hesitant, as he said it.

You tilted your head into his hand and twisted your knee between his, trying to sooth him by getting closer. “It might be early in terms of how long we’ve been doing this, Joel, but we’ve been heading this way for a long time. Since we met.”

He nodded. “I know it. But I still don’t want to rush it – I want to savor every moment that gets us there.” You smiled at the acknowledgement that you were both in this with the same goal, same dream. “And it’s not just about this, you know, even though you blew my fucking mind tonight. I love watching you get to know Sarah too, and seeing how we fit together. Everywhere.”

“Me too, Joel. She’s important to me, and I want this to last.” You looked at him for a moment, and then smirked. “We can take the long way, get lost in it a little bit. Do some exploring.”

He eyed you, and you could see that he was trying not to smile. “Exploring, huh?” He moved his right hand to your lower back and pushed down firmly, moving your hips to meet his as he thrust upwards. You felt his cock stir against your hip. “Well, you just let me know what you have in mind. I’ll be ready.”

...

a/n: chapter 5 coming Sunday, 8/27 :)

a/n: ch 5 now posted!

Tag list: @morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe

Club playlist (all songs are on the series playlist) Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up) John Deere Green My Maria I’m in a Hurry (And Don’t Know Why) (This Ain’t) No Thinkin’ Thing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! Be My Baby Tonight Daddy’s Money Shut Up and Kiss Me Fast as You God Blessed Texas What About Now Boot Scootin’ Boogie

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #my fic #over again fic #x reader

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jolynejay · 10 months

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I think Ch. 7/4 may have just given us both Crowley's identity as well as the identity of his "dear esteemed benefactor"

Obvs. Spoilers Ahead in this analysis and speculative hypothesis (which will link the prologue to the current events in Ch. 7):

This moment is the moment that sent me down this rabbit hole:

General Lilia essentially calling Lady Malenore Briar Country's "most evil" princess.

I went over the prologue again semi-recently to see if the knowledge we have gathered since the start of the game recontextulizes some things. And while the purpose of the analysis then was different, what I did take special note of was that Crowley is speaking to a different but very specific person. To quote the man himself (from the English version):

"Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor...

My proud, beautiful flower of evil.

You are truly the fairiest one of all."

The way Crowley addresses this person is very interesting because it at once seems very subservient and almost intimate.

But what is even more interesting is the original Japanese phrasing. I will go through the lines one by one to point out the notable details:

ああ‥‥‥愛しい我が君

"愛しい" (itoshii) is generally used to describe something that is lovely, dear. "我が君" (waga kimi) is generally understood to mean "my lord/ruler/master". The translation as "my dear esteemed benefactor" is... alright, though it does seem to detract a bit from the portrayal of this person as someone that has a lot of power over Crowley.

What I'd like to note though is that since Japanese is a very context dependent language this line might also be read a very different way: if "kimi" was used in the context that Crowley knows this person very well, being allowed to address them directly like this... then the line could also be read as Crowley calling this person "My beloved." There is still the underlying power dynamic underneath but it is more finely tuned and something that reminds me more of a pair of royals.

This would certainly not be the first way for someone to understand this line but subtext and double meanings can reveal a lot.

気高く麗しい悪の華

Notable here is mainly that Crowley is using a lot of archaic words to describe the person he is speaking to (e.g. using the kanji "華" instead of the modern "花" - both pronounced "hana," meaning flower). This may indicate that this person is of a people whose culture does not move as fast as the rest of the world's - still bound to old ways of speaking and thinking.

貴女こそが世界で一番美しい

Now, this last line is spicy. The English version of this line is pretty gender neutral after all - the fairest of them all. But what the original line makes very explicit is that Crowley is talking to/about a woman.

"貴女" (anata) - not "貴方" (anata), not "我が君" (waga kimi) but "貴女"

Crowley is addressing a noble woman directly in a manner that implies they are of equal standing. Like a husband addressing his wife.

Now let's circle back to that conversation Lilia, Silver, Sebek and co. are having about Malenore for a minute.

Because what Lilia also calls Malenore is this:

Malenore is the only daughter to Queen Maleficia and she the ruling Lady of "Wild Rose Castle" (野ばら城). Which is known to Silver only as "Black Scale Castle" (黒鱗城).

In other words, Malenore is one of the most powerful noble women in the Twisted Wonderland, she is strongly associated with with Wild Roses/ Briar Roses, and on top of that described as the "most evil" princess by her own general (whether in jest or not is of little consequence).

And this description should ring very familiar after going over Crowley's introductory monolog. A noble, beautiful "Flower of Evil" as it were.

But if that is the truth, then the familiar way Crowley addresses Malenore can only mean that Crowley's true identity is Malenore's husband. Who else would be allowed to speak to her im such an intimate and familiar manner.

Malenore's husband whose status hasn't actually been confirmed, other than he is missing in some capacity. And while I have seen a many transcriptions of his name, no one seems to have gotten it right yet:

"竜眠公レヴァーン"

The Sleeping Dragon Lord Raven

And what is the associated animal of our dear Night Raven's headmaster?

A crow.

A corvid.

A raven.

Crowley did always had something of the mad hatter to him, didn't he? And he might just have something with a raven and a writing desk..

After all, a raven is nevar the same front to back as back to front.

And thus, at the end, we have the lost parents of a little dragon, summoning a human with no magical ability to this Twisted Wonderland - a human that cannot be influenced by blot.

Curious, curious...

Curious indeed...

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twst #twst malleus #twst maleficia #twst malenore #twst crowley #twst raven #twst theory #twst analysis #jo's theory corner #this game is making me go insane #my conspiracy board is growing so muchhh #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #twst silver

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esotl · 1 year

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Performance! The Tragicomedy of Romeo and Juliet [Translation Directory - Complete]

Read parts 1-12 (Prologue-Act 4), translated by other people, on the wiki using the wayback machine

[Act 5 • Ch 7 • Ch 8 • Ch 9 • Act 6 • Act 7 • Ch 10 • Ch 11 • Act 8 • Act 9 • Act 10 • Epilogue 1 • Epilogue 2]

Any corrections or concerns are more than welcome

Please refrain from weird comments in the tags - the translator can see all of them. If you are unsure if your comments are "weird", please play it safe and put them in a different post. Thank you!

Do not repost this translation in full to other platforms - screenshots, quotes, and links are fine

#enstars translation #ensemble stars #wataru hibiki #hokuto hidaka #tomoya mashiro #mitsuru tenma #nazuna nito #shu itsuki #makoto yuki #adonis otogari #ensemble stars translation #enstars #performance! the tragicomedy of romeo and juliet

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class1akids · 5 months

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I had yesterday again a long discussion with a "Toya should die because that's what he wants" person, and I've been thinking again about what exactly happened in "Shoto:Rising" (haha, Hori is driving me insane with that chapter, leaving it hanging like that)

Anyways, you know the page... - Something clearly happens here and Touya's POV of Shouto changes from seeing Shouto as a monster to seeing him as a crying child.

The quote coming from Ch 350, where Touya talks about surpassing his limits - and everything is flipping around. But right before that scene, he talks about wanting to go home, wanting to see what changed, wanting to be still seen and walking away feeling that his existence is pointless and that the family left him behind.

Touya chose to become Dabi, chose to surpass his limits and destroy his body because that's how he can leave a mark on the world. If he cannot be his father's legacy, he can be the one to destroy that legacy.

But then when Touya goes to Gunga, he gets the things he wanted to see:

Being seen by his father

The family changing and welcoming him

And sees that it would have taken so little to not end up like this.

The grief and unfairness of it all makes him crack, unable to turn off the fire:

Or in the volume version, where the sequence is different:

Everyone arrives

Endeavor watches him

3. Dabi fades into a shadow - a shadow with pupils - and it's revealed to be Touya, who just for one moment gets his "happy ending".

4. Then Dabi starts to crack apart because "if it was so simple, why not sooner"

The next time we see Touya is when Shouto enters the fire ball that's breaking apart:

If the first (Ch 350) "flip" or "black and white inversion" (as the Japanese says) is Touya turning into Dabi and instead of wanting to go home and find meaning there, he wants to find meaning by burning down the home

Then I think the second (Ch 390) black and white inversion is Dabi turning back into Touya - realizing that he wants to go home, he wants to live. And Shouto is the one who can give it to him.

As usual with Touya, we get an unreadable word - so we don't know what he's saying, but Touya's desperate eyes and Shouto's crying face does remind me of the "you looked like you needed saving" moment.

I hesitate to take too literally Touya's ranting afterwards - especially because of the way Natsuo reacts (someone who is very familiar with Touya's rants doesn't seem to take it literally like Touya wants to die.)

And I think especially because the apology let Touya express finally the rage that he's been trying to express through his Dabi persona's destruction:

He is really really ANGRY.

So I do feel like the "flip" / "black and white inversion" inside Touya is this realization that he does want to go home after all, mixed with the anger / grief of "why not sooner".

I don't have the feeling that he want to die anymore, even if his words are angry and desperate. And even if he wants to die, I don't necessarily agree that villains should get everything they want even if they are victims themselves.

I think it's fitting that Shouto stops the Endeavor-Touya murder suicide and I think just like Endeavor doesn't get the hero way out, Touya also shouldn't live and die only on his own terms.

#bnha meta #dabi #todoroki touya #todoroki shouto #bnha 390 #yes i did write an extremely long ramble about touya #i don't feel like he wants to die anymore #but it's a bit hard #it was left off on a strange note

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peterpparkrr · 11 months

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Banter (ch. 5)

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

Summary: Keeley gives you some much needed advice. You and Roy finally talk about your feelings.

A/N: Sorry for the delay with this chapter! Motivation is a fickle mistress and this chapter is a bit shorter than I’d like it to be, but thank you for your patience!

(Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4)

series masterlist

The next morning you wake up to a text from Keeley insisting on a coffee date to debrief the night before unless quote-unquote “Roy already made you breakfast in bed.”

You ignore the joke and tell her you’ll meet her at your favorite cafe near the stadium.

"Did you and Roy talk all night?" Keeley asks before your butt can make contact with your seat.

Keeley already has your latte and croissant sitting in front of you which would be a kind gesture from your friend if it wasn’t coupled with Keeley literally bouncing up and down across from you, leaning in as if she’s worried she’ll miss anything.

"Yeah," You reply. "I don't know, it was weird," You admit with a shrug.

"Good weird or bad weird?" She asks with an eye wiggle.

"Well we stayed at Ola’s until Sam kicked us out and so I asked him if he wanted to go for a drink so we could keep talking, right? And then we were at the pub until late, still talking. And he walked me home, but then I was like standing outside my flat, waiting for the goodnight kiss and he just... left?" You explain.

"I made eyes at him and everything," You tell Keeley with a groan. "God, it was so embarrassing."

“Woah,” Keeley murmurs as you place your head in your hands.

It’s not until your shoulders start to shake that Keeley pushes out of her chair and comes to crouch beside you.

“Hey! Hey! You’re alright!” Keeley consoles you as she rubs her hand on your back.

You laugh mirthlessly as you look up at her and Keeley breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes you’re laughing and not crying.

“I know I just, I think I’m really starting to like him which is just… shit,” You tell her.

“Remember what we talked about?” Keeley asks you as she grabs your hand and squeezes it tightly.

“You need to be upfront and honest with him about your feelings. Roy’s not a mindreader. Obviously,” She points out. “So maybe you just need to ask him what’s up.”

“I can’t do that I-” You stammer out in mild panic.

It’s one thing to be rejected in the sense that you’re left at your door, kissless, it’s an entirely different thing to explicitly state your interest and be brutally rejected with words. You’re not sure you can handle the latter.

“Yes you can,” Keeley cuts you off. “You are a strong, capable woman who can do anything she puts her mind to, and Roy would be fucking lucky to have you.”

“I’ll ask him,” You reply with a nod as you set your determination.

“Good girl,” Keeley replies.

“I’ll go ask him right now,” You say as you move to stand up.

“Oh,” Keeley murmurs, her eyes widening as she watches you stand up and collect your things.

“Why not? Right?” You offer her with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Keeley replies. Though she’s suddenly wondering if she’s possibly too good at motivational speeches. “Um, do you want me to come with you?”

“I think I have to do this on my own,” You tell her. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Roy!” You shout as you march through the AFC Richmond hallway, trying to catch up to the dark-haired man striding down the hall towards the coaches' offices.

“Hey,” Roy greets you as he turns to see you headed in his direction.

“Do you want a croissant?” You ask as you push the bag into his hands before he can even respond.

“This croissant has a bite taken out of it,” He points out as he pulls it out of the bag. “I know, I got hungry while I was walking over here,” You tell him.

“But that’s not why I’m here,” You tell him as you try to get yourself back on track before you lose the sudden burst of self-confidence that carried you the four blocks here.

"Do you like me or don't you?" You ask him.

"Of course I like you," Roy replies.

Oh.

Your chest deflates significantly with relief. That was way easier than you thought it would be. And the ideal outcome.

Except you’re still confused.

"Well, then why didn't you kiss me last night?" You ask him as your brows furrow again with the reminder of why exactly you’re so confused by this man. “The hot-and-cold, mixed signals are doing my head in.”

"I like to take things slow," Roy tells you. “And I don’t want to rush into things before I understand where you’re at.”

"But you do? Like me, I mean?" You ask.

"Of course I fucking like you," Roy replies. "Even after you brutally fucking rejected me I liked you."

"You rejected me!"

"No I fucking didn't," Roy replies, shaking his head. "You walked out of that restaurant before I could even say anything and then told me that being seen with me was a fucking embarrassment."

"That's not how-"

"If either of us is hot-and-cold and impossible to read it's you," He tells you

"But-"

Roy cuts you off.

"I fucking like you, (Y/N), and if I need to keep telling you that every fucking day until it sinks in I'll do it, but only if you admit that you have feelings for me too."

"I-I do,” You reply. "Like you," You tell him.

"I like you a lot, Roy," You tell him.

"Well, there we go," Roy replies. “That wasn’t too hard now was it?”

"But what does that mean?" You ask. "What do we do now?"

"I have one idea," Roy says as he closes the gap between you two and moves forward to cup your face in his hands.

His lips are pressed against yours and the hand curls around to cup your neck before you can get your brain firing on all cylinders.

Roy Kent is kissing you.

Roy Kent is kissing you in the middle of the hallway in your place of work.

His place of work.

You break apart as quickly as you were pulled together.

"I..." You stall as your brain struggles to form the words you want to say.

"What are you doing tonight?" Roy asks you in a low voice as his thumb traces over the curve of your cheek.

"Normally I'd say something like, you," You reply as you gaze back at him. The heat of that kiss still fresh in your mind. "But apparently you want to take it slow."

"Fuck slow," Roy growls.

God, he's the hottest man you've ever met.

"Come over to my place, I'll make us dinner," He tells you.

"As long as you kiss me like that again I'll go wherever you want."

"Tonight," He promises. And you don’t know if it’s about the date or the kiss or the unspoken thing you’re definitely both thinking about right now as you can feel Roy’s eyes tracing down your body.

“Tonight,” You agree before you take a step back and turn to head out before you do something truly reckless.

Like shagging a football coach in a closet.

You’re halfway down the hallway when you realize you’ve forgotten something.

“My croissant!” You shout as you turn around.

“My croissant now, you gave it to me, remember?” Roy replies before he pulls it out of the bag and takes a bite before heading into his office.

Tonight. You remind yourself as you walk out of the training facility. You just need to keep a handle on yourself until tonight.

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x reader #roy kent drabble #roy kent reader insert #ted lasso reader insert #ted lasso series #roy kent series #keeley jones

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nataliaphantomhivesblog · 9 months

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Predictions for Soukoku’s fate (BSD CH 109 spoilers!!)

How I be looking after dedicating two posts on the possibility of Chuuya not being a vampire due to the fact he was faceless for absolutley no reason during some chapters, thinking it was important:

alright people, i wish i could express my embarassment further but instead of kicking my feet, screaming and crying over my miscalculations, i will proceed to (hopefully) redeem myself with my following predictions.

Guys, first of all I need to tell you something that I think is absolutely obvious: Dazai is not going to die.

thematically, it makes absolutley no sense for Dazai to die considering how many characters still depend on him, EVEN HIMSELF.

We still haven’t learned his backstory, we still haven’t had a cathartic moment between Akutagwa and Dazai, Atsushi is yet to learn more from his mentor, and he’s overall a very key character to foil others and develop them while he’s at it.

Even Dazai himself dying right now feels extremely weightless, we haven’t even learned anything about Dazai’s past and he’s already killed? without growing as a person? without fullfilling Oda’s promise? I don’t know, personally to me, direction wise, development wise and plot wise killing him off is absolutley nonsensical.

Asagiri does tend to take a very unique and unpredictable route with his writing and characters, but for plots sake, I highly doubt Dazai is gone forever.

Also, Fydoor and Dazai continue throwing uno reverse cards at each other, always catching one another unexpectedly. I am still going strong on the idea that Double Black will catch Fyodor off-guard.

Fyodor during these whole prision sections has been constantly belittling and teasing Dazai over how shallow his bond with Chuuya is.

When that’s beyond the truth. Dazai and Chuuya’s trust is literally undying. Stormbringer, the double black chapter and dead apple show us this in the most obvious way possible.

Asagiri himself has quoted that Soukoku knows each others motives, which has also been proven plenty of times when they are working together.

Dazai himself admited there really was moments where their hearts reached out to one another.

and I think that’s enough to understand, Fyodor is wrong. THEY ARE DOUBLE BLACK FOR A REASON!!!

So far in this chapter, I got various things confirmed. Let’s walk through them together.

1. Dazai’s nullifcation ability works on vampires, confirmed by Fyodor himself.

So what does this tell us? That Dazai had been planning all along to get in contact with Chuuya. He knew his partner’s abilities will break him out of the water trap, he’s not dumb.

So Dazaj totally meant to get in physical contact with Chuuya in order to nullify his vamparism. And no, it’s not only because Dazai cares for Chuuya (which is a true statement, but not the main reason.) It’s because out of everyone in this room, Chuuya is the only one able to physically overpower Fyodor.

And even if Chuuya somehow can’t overpower Fyodor, atleast Chuuya can be Dazai’s bodyguard considering well...Dazai’s countless of injuries. Chuuya is Dazai’s ticket to get out of the prision.

Dazai needs Chuuya in his corner. He needs double black in action. He needs Chuuya.

2. Dazai is genuienly frustrated that his plan to bring back Chuuya didn’t work.

I can’t be the only one who ADORED seeing Dazai panicking. (I sound so masochistic but seriously, it’s rare to see Dazai unmask this way).

Anyways, Dazai’s panic and frustrating during these pannels are unfortunately proof that things did not go at all how he planned.

3. Aya is attempting to take out the sword that stops Bram from having full atonomy on his vampire abilty.

If by any luck, Aya is able to detach the swoard from Bram, Chuuya and literally every other vamp will return to normal. (which honestly, let’s do hope Aya removes the sword bc this is getting too agonizingly dragged out.)

4. Chuuya and Dazai are destined to....

kiss?? marry?? make out under the moonlight??

Nono my friends, Chuuya and Dazai are destined to die together.

Chuuya and Dazai dying together has been hinted since Fifthteen, but my theory of these two dying together strenghtened during Stormbringer when Mori teased Dazai about a double suicide with Chuuya.

I’m not saying they will die right now but in order to solidify the need for Shin Soukoku in Yokahama.....

This old married couple gotta go and make room for the highschool sweethearts/hj

5. Dazai took the L

Honestly, I won’t lie to you and say that Dazai’s way out of this situation is going to be hard. But Dazai has attempted to kill himself plenty of times, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has shot a bullet through his head in his early 20s. (Im not joking when I say this i swear).

Anyways, Dazai seems somewhat imune to death and honestly, his character is too important to die, especially in such a meh, anticlimatic way.

Dazai said it himself best, him and Chuuya are destined to die together.

6. Vampire Chuuya’s expression

I mean,,,, what is the need for the random three little pensive speach bubble ?? we have been proven by Akutagawa that vampires are capable of some sort of sentinence, especially when it’s tied to their deepest desieres/mental strenghts.

I don’t have anywhere grand to go with this but, I just wanted to point it out lol.

ALL IN ALL

I can’t say for sure what is going to happen, but with Aya’s attempts of removing the swoard the possibility for Chuuya to become concious and do something to get out of there and save Dazai still remain pausible in my books.

I am not too confident on where this section of the story will go exactly but I am certain that Soukoku won’t die yet. MARK MY WORDS!!!

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd spoilers #bsd 109 #bsd manga #bsd chapter 109 spoilers #analysis #soukoku #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #Ryūnosuke Akutagawa #atsushi nakajima #aya bsd #bram stoker #bsd analysis #soukoku analysis #manga

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jingchu-time · 1 year

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Spoilers for all of DRDT so far (all the way to the end of Ch.2 - Pt.1)

(This is my first attempt at a character analysis, so forgive me if it's a bit messy, I'll try to fit it up later. Also my first time using tumblr, intimidating but I'll figure it out.)

(TW: Talks about parental death and neglect. Mentions of racism, not talked about in much depth)

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Intro:

Whit is one of the most interesting and mysterious characters in Despair Time. Despite being so well-loved by the fandom, his character is not taken nearly as seriously as I believe he should be. Objectively, Whit has one of the most in-depth characters, which isn't talked about with how often he gets reduced to a possible love interest for Charles. I also love their relationship (and ship it as well), but compared to Charles, Whit's other traits are ignored in favor of their relationship, which is unfair with how complex Whit's character actually is. Likes his backstory for example.

Part 1 - Whit's Backstory:

Whit's backstory is still shrouded in mystery, since it's only Chapter 2, but that isn't to say we know nothing about it. During Episode 4 of Chapter 1 Whit talks about his home life. He reveals that he's an only child, and briefly mentions that he thinks having a sibling would be cool, since he could be friends with them. This will be mentioned again later in the analysis, so keep this fact in mind. He then goes on to talk about his parents. First, he talks about his father, Lin or Steve. Whit says he doesn't see him a lot since he works overseas. All Whit is able to say about him is that he's quiet. Then Whit goes to talk about his mother, Elizabeth. Whit shows actual happiness when he talks about her. He doesn't go in depth, but he does call her pretty and sophisticated. He says he even bleached his hair to be like her. He clearly admired her a lot. He finally goes on to talk about his since nobody is ever in their house for long periods of time, he couldn't have pets. His home seems decent solely based on this information, but we have gained another part of it recently. In Episode 9 of Chapter 2 (what a jump) the secrets of all the cast are finally talked about. During the trial, Whit admits his secret is, "Your mother is dead. You always omit that truth." This isn't all that surprising when you consider how Whit deals with stuff like death (which well talks about in a different section) or his secret quote, "We tend to idolize the Dead."

So that's all of Whit's backstory, right? Insert *Sore wa chigau yo!" meme here. Is it all we've seen in the story, yes, but there was a Q&A done a while back that gave us an even greater idea of Whit's past. Anon asked if Whit was Biracial. The creator said yes, since his father is Chinese and his mother is American. It's also mentioned that for the first part of Whit's life, he was raised by his mom, so he doesn't have many Chinese experiences. What is mentioned next is what I care about the most. It's said that his father was very absent from his childhood (and life in general it seems). I think this makes it safe to say that Whit probably experienced some form of neglect from his father. He could barely say anything about him, the house is so empty that he can't even have pets, the way he talks about having a sibling. His mother is dead, and his father is never around. Whit was probably a lonely kid. The idea of having a sibling could fill the void because of his basically non-existent family. Also, regarding his mother's death, I'm gonna guess it was around his teen years, though I'm not sure.

Why mention his backstory first? Because this fandom never acknowledges anything about his past besides his dead mom when we clearly have more to look at. I also think this backstory can explain a lot of Whit's actions throughout the game. Speaking of…

Part 2 - Whit's role as comic relief, and how he (and Ace) subvert the stereotype:

Whit is easily seen as comic relief by most (I hope). Comic relief is a character used to defuse tension from certain scenes in shows/movies, plays/musicals, or video games. Whit is clearly made for the role, but another character, Ace, plays (or did play) the role as well. How can they both share the same role? You see, all roles have different stereotypes that are repaired with them. Comic relief is no expectation. I would say that comic relief tends to come in two types.

Characters who take absolutely nothing seriously. The lack of seriousness can be so bad that their jokes can fully screw over the tone of a scene, or story as a whole.

Using flanderization, which is just exaggerating a certain trait (or even sometimes traits) in a character. Character traits like paranoia, anger, happiness, or even sadness will become so amplified that you, much like the story, won't be able to take them seriously.

Whit and Ace fit these two stereotypes very well. After Whit's introduction in Episode 4 of the Prologue, Teruko calls him frivolous. A word, when used as a trait, is characterized by lack of seriousness or sense, which is a fairly accurate descriptor for Whit. Ace fits the second very well. Ace is characterized as both extremely aggressive, and as an extremely large coward through the entirety of the Prologue and Chapter 1. It's hard to take either character seriously at first glance.

Yet both Whit and Ace manage to subvert the stereotype and do interesting new things while doing it.

Ace goes through (negative but natural) character development after Chapter 1. He takes on a fully aggressive persona so that he's not seen as someone that can be easily killed off, the more intimidating the better. If he's seen as all bark no bite cowards, then he'll be an easy target. The cowardness is replaced by more anger and now the anger isn't funny now since we see it negatively affecting both the rest of the cast and Ace himself. He loses the role as comic relief by going through his natural character development. He subverts the trope by getting proper development, which leads to him losing the role entirely.

Whit subverts the trope by fully admitting that he's trying to be it. In Episode 4 of Chapter 1, Whit talks about how his constant joking is just him trying to lighten the mood. Whit wants to find a way to make the others happy, or at the very least lessen the stress they have because of the current situation they're in. He does this by joking and teasing. Whit subverts the trope by admitting he's trying to be the trope.

Both Whit and Ace subvert the same trope in vastly different ways, which are both effective for both of them. This does lead me to a question. Why does Whit do this? Well…

Part 3 - Goals vs Motive, actions, and what differentiates Whit and Hu:

When discussing characters' popularity, Hu and Whit are basically opposites. Whit, as mentioned earlier during the intro, is one of the most popular characters in the DRDT fandom. Hu, on the other hand, has gained a distaste by a majority of DRDT fandom because of how she's acted during the course of Chapter 2. This is very interesting, since the two are fairly similar. This is probably surprising to many, since the two seem so, so different. Hu is a serious mom friend, while Whit is a jokester.

I won't deny their differences, but what makes them similar is actually really important. The biggest similarity between the two is their goal. "Help the others through the killing game". This goal is special to these two because while the others are all (mostly) actively trying to find a way to either get out or end the killing game. These two don't though. They don't make any active attempts to find a way to or escape like the others, or their attempts are way more subtle than everyone else. So, if they have the same goal, why do they go about it so differently? Motive. A goal is what a character wants, a motive is why your character wants to achieve their goal.

We already know Hu's motive. Her motive is feeling useful. I'll discuss it more whenever I get to making a Hu analysis, but Hu has self-worth issues, making her believe that if she isn't doing some then she is completely useless. The idea of being useless seems to scare her. The reason Hu wants to help the other through the killing game is because it will make sure she isn't useless. Her actions to achieve her goal are by giving all her love to certain people, since she's aware that she can give equal love to everyone. She'll do whatever it takes to keep those certain people safe and happy, even excusing their bad actions. She plays favorites so that there will always be someone that finds her useful.

Whit is very different in regard to motive, since we don't really know fully what it is yet. We can make assumptions, but we can't be fully sure yet. Our best answer currently is simply, nobody can. This leads me to the next section…

Part 4 - Whit's calm persona, and it's relation to his motive:

Whit likes to make others happy. Whit also likes to help others. I believe these two traits heavily influenced his persona. Whit doesn't show emotion. We've seen happiness, concern, surprise, regret, confusion, and neutrality. He legit says "Jeez" after watching Min's execution in Episode 12 of Chapter 1, which is very tame compared to the others. Then he says, and I quote, "Oops" after seeing Arei's dead body in Episode 8 of Chapter 2. That is not a normal/socially (and morally for that matter) appropriate response to a dead body. What does this mean? Well, Whit doesn't show a real hint of sadness, or what he has is a very closed off version. Why does this point matter? Well, Whit is doing what nobody in the cast can. Whit is able to be a kind while being a reasonable/neutral force in the killing game. Hu and Eden, while kind, are both easily swayed by their emotions. Whit is less swayed by emotions like that and is shown to be logical when it counts. Like when he reminded David that they only knew Xander for a few days, so there was no real way of knowing if how Xander acted was in or out of character during the scrum debate in Episode 8 of Chapter 1. Whit can manage the role of a jokester and calm person very well. However, his calm side has grown a lot over the killing game.

Whit has always been generally calmer compared to a majority of this cast. You can take his dialogue after the killing game was revealed during Episode 5 of the Prologue as an example. However, his persona is something growing in intensity over the course of the series. When Min was executed, Whit showed off at least some form of sympathy, compared to when Arie died. He barely acknowledges her death, focusing much more on comforting Eden. This is all odder considering that while he and Arei didn't always see eye to eye, he still had more connections to her than Min from what saw. While everyone else slowly descends into madness, Whit just keeps amplifying his calm persona.

How does this relate to his motive? At the very least, for Chapter 2, Whit's motive is something along the lines, "Because someone has to". Whit likes helping others. If he doesn't help the others through the game, literally nobody else will. Mainly because this cast is extremely mentally unwell. Also, having a goal and motive doesn't mean they'll be good at achieving said goal. Whit hasn't been particularly helpful despite his efforts, but I'll explain why this is a little later. Anyway, if you compare Whit and Hu's motive to help others, then it makes sense why they're so different. It also explains why Whit is more easily likable compared to Hu. Neither of them are bad, not by a long shot, but we still have to wait for more of both. I would like to move into my next section, since this section does reference something in there…

Part 5 - Whit's ability to see the best in others:

This is one of Whit’s lesser known traits, which is so odd because this trust is seen so much in his character. Whit’s main relationship is with Charles. He and Whit have lots of interactions. Like during the Prologue, where half of Charles’ introduction is him and Whit. Or during Chapter 1, where the pairs' friendship begins to develop. And Chapter 2, where we get to watch their friendship fully develop. At the start, both of them disliked each other. Charles disliked Whit for his jokester person and how often Whit would use him as an object for humor, which didn’t mix well with how much Charles hates being looked down upon. Meanwhile, Whit didn’t like Charles for his very rude and arrogant personality, which make sense considering how much of Whit’s persona(s) are based around being kind to others. What happens in Chapter 1 is what I’d like to discuss in relation to the topic of this section.

During Chapter 1, Xander tries to pin the blame on Charles by using Charles’s hemophobia. Charles’ phobia makes him breakdown when he sees gory or dead bodies because of his unresolved childhood trauma. After Charles gets lured into seeing Teruko’s dead body and runs away, he ends up running into Whit, who was in the cafeteria, mid-breakdown. At first, Whit assumes that Charles is messing with him, but ends up realizing he wasn’t. Whit ends up making the choice to stay and help out Charles. Levi brings up in Episode 9 of Chapter 1 that Charles could have been faking it. In a game where any wrong moves can lead to your death, Whit decision to stay and help could’ve gotten him killed if Charles had been. Yet Whit choice to stay, ignoring his own opinions about Charles at that point, decided to see the best in him. He chose to see the best in Charles despite only really having his intuition as a reason.

To continue this point, I’d like to bring up Teruko and David. Teruko is fairly straight forward, as during the dressing room scene in Episode 2 of Chapter 2, Whit says he doesn’t think Teruko or anyone else in the cast is a bad person. We get a small look into Whit’s thought process. He believes that, despite everyone acting callously, they aren’t bad people. They are human. They are just human with emotions and weaknesses, and that’s fine with him. He believes, even when Teruko herself doesn’t, that there is still a good person in her. That despite the current asshole she is being, she is still a good person, even if it’s a little deeper inside. This thought process also relates to how he handles David. Whit is the one who had David’s secret. David’s secret is, “You exist to manipulate others, others exist to be manipulated.” It is very hard to see this secret and believe whoever it’s about isn’t a bad person. But Whit having it actually makes this makes sense. Whit, much like Hu, likes to see the best in others. Unlike Hu, however, Whit keeps this fact to himself unless he’s having a moment of vulnerability. It isn’t hard to believe that he, despite how obvious the secret is, convinced himself that David wasn’t a bad person. Hell, we get some confirmation of this during Episode 11 of Chapter 2, when after David’s real personality is reveled, Whit makes a certain comment. “I was keeping that secret out of concern for your career. But if this is how you really act, then your career might be in trouble for reasons out of my control.” A majority of the fandom think he’s lying, and I won’t deny the possibility, but I feel like we should look at this comment from more than one angle. If we bring up the idea of him believing that the secret was simply worded badly, then it’s no wonder he of all people wouldn’t wanna take that risk. I don’t think anybody would want to ruin someone's whole career based on a secret that could be purposely worded badly. “...reasons out of my control”, this quote basically confirms that if David hadn’t gone insane in Episode 11, then Whit would have blamed himself for David’s career. Whit is a caring person, so this idea is very plausible.

If it was anyone else, then the idea would be unlikable, but it’s not unbelievable if you consider Whit’s character so far. A person who cares for others and has risked his life holding onto the idea of seeing the best in them. Whit is the only character who would hide a secret like that. Since I brought up Charles, Teruko, and David, that brings me to a different section…

Part 6 - Gaining importance through others:

This section should be fairly brief. Whit, while has not really been a major player, keeps having connections to characters who are. If most had to assign the DRDT cast cliché Danganronpa roles, then it tends to go Teruko is the protagonist (obviously), Charles is the support (stretching but okay), and David is the antagonist. Whit, as mentioned in the section before, is connected to all three. However, that isn’t all when it comes to his connections to major characters (this wouldn’t be a section if that was the case). Let me bring up Eden, Arei, and Hu. Whit has come to Eden’s defense twice now. First in Episode 5 of Chapter 1, when Arei and Arturo are insulting the cake which she was actually really proud of. Whit makes a joke about how cake=birthday song, which is able to distract the group from the insults and everyone becomes much less hesitant about eating the cake. Then in Episode 9 of Chapter 2, he buys Eden some time, since Teruko was asking about the note (that made Eden super suspicious), by bringing up the alibis. In Episode 1 of Chapter 1, we get to see that Whit and Arei were investigation partners. It’s not big, but is still a point of connection. Finally, he and Hu had a a fairly long talk about the killing game during the dressing room scene during Episode 2 of Chapter 2.

Whit keeps being given importance because of his connections with major players in Chapter 2. No matter how big or small. I honestly don’t have a good translation to the next section, so…

Part 7 - He is very different compared to the rest:

Whit handles most stuff in a very special way. Firstly, while a majority of this cast will become aggressive or start fighting with each other. Whit, however, is very different compared to the others in this case. Whit will make passive-aggressive or sarcastic comments. He is also very conflict avoidant, which will be dissected later for reasons. And second, his method of investigation. Compared to the majority of the cast, who go the logical route of investigating the body and scene of the crime in depth, then investigating other areas. Whit is one of the three character (the others being Charles and Rose) who don’t examine the body. This is odd considering that Whit doesn’t really seem to have a reason to not too, I think I know why, but it will have to be talked about a little later (I'm sorry, but this is the last time I promise). Anyway, as mentioned earlier, Whit is a very calm person. His type of calm (yeah type) is different from that of Hu or Veronika. Hu is calm but is very easily angered by her situation and constantly struggles to keep composure. Veronika is much more similar, but unlike Whit, Veronika finds joy in their situation. She finds the killing game fun and interesting, completely fine with her situation. She’s only calm because she doesn’t find the danger frightening. She’ happy because she hates being bored. Whit is only calm because, as mentioned many times, he had to be. Someone has to be calm and kind during their situation. One is more selfish than the other, and that makes them different. All the talk about Whit’s differences reminds me of one thing that only her has…

Part 8 - Whit’s intuition:

Before I get into Whit’s intuition, I want to talk about what intuition actually is. Intuition are just gut feelings. They are ideas that, while there i no logical reason to believe it, you just feel like you do. Whit’s intuition has been mentioned during Episode 4 and 9 of Chapter 1 and during his and Charles’ FTE. He claims, using his intuition, that one day, Teruko will be happy, that Charles isn’t faking the breakdown he is/was having, and that one day him and Charles were going to be friends. His intuition hadn’t been mentioned once through the first part of Chapter 2. I think this mostly because of the calm persona, He has to be more logical. This doesn’t mean his emotions won’t influence situations, but now he had to try to rationalize his decisions based on those emotions. He can’t just say it’s his intuition anymore, not with how the group is currently.

I still don’t have a good way to transition so let’s just-

Part 9 - Whit’s social life and conflict avoidance:

Whit isn’t a fan of fights, unless it for the sake of someone else. In Episode 2 of Chapter 2 (it’s a great scene okay), Hu and Whit are discussing how much the Mastermind knows about them. Teruko, being Teruko, finds a way to twist it into distrusting others. Whit then makes one of his passive-aggressive comments towards her. Then, only a little while later, Teruko is equally rude when Whit tries to call her a good person, and this time Whit keeps quiet. Whit won’t argue with someone unless what that other person is doing negatively effects others. His conflict avoidance is seen during Episode 4 of Chapter 2, where he refuses to try and break up any of the fights. His reasoning is that his talent isn’t couple counseling, therefore he can’t be the one to break up any of the fights. This is an excuse that Charles quickly shuts down. So yeah, Whit doesn’t like conflict, which is probably part of why he became a jokester in the first place, but we’ll come back to this though after the next section. Speaking of the next section…

Part 10 - The 4th wall (and finding information):

Whit is the character that shows the most awareness of the 4th wall. In Episode 8 of Chapter 1, Whit legit tells the audience to pause to read the list, since it would be useful. There is no way that he was directing that at the cast, since they can’t fuckin’ pause their lives. Then in Episode 10 of Chapter 2, Whit breaks the 4th wall, but in a far more subtle way. Whit says he doesn’t remember which secret Eden got, which leads to us, the audience, to be shown the list. Whit gave us a direct way to relook at the secret list, which is very weird since he could have just looked up and silently read the list. Something that Ace points out (kind of). Whit is the only character to show this much awareness of us, The weird thing is why would Whit want to help us? We’re the whole reason that he and the rest of the cast are stuck there, dying for our entertainment. So why would he want to help us? This is a question we’ll have to wait for an answer, since even I’m not sure yet. A downside of only being through half of the 2nd Chapter.

This section is the one I brought up earlier during Part 9, and will be connecting some of the mysterious points I didn’t expand upon earlier…

Part 11 - How does his backstory influence him:

You’ve probably noticed that despite his backstory being brought up first, I haven’t given it much though since. This is because I believed we all need a better understand of Whit before I could describe how his backstory affected all of what we’ve discussed. Before that, however, there is one part left.

If you remember, I said that Whit was a lonely kid. Along with what I said earlier in the backstory section this is also because of his talent and love life. Whit’s talent is something others have to pay for, mentioned in the Q&A earlier. He sets other people up as a way to earn money, which begs the question of why Whit took up the talent in the first place. Since we don’t have a proper answer yet, so we’re going to move one, just keep that as food for thought. Anyway, Whit is said to have a pretty bad romantic life despite his talent. He apparently just can’t find a partner, despite his efforts. This isn’t all that surprising when you consider that Whit isn’t all that socially competent at times. It’s hard to describe, so well use examples instead. During the FTE, Whit is shown to be completely shocked at Charles’ anger toward him. Whit hadn’t even considered the idea that the stuff he did earlier could be seen as negative. Even when it’d probably become obvious to anyone else at that point. Then, during the Computer Lab scene during Episode 7 of Chapter 2, Whit makes a dark joke about Min’s death in front of Teruko and doesn’t even think of the bad implication till Charles points it out to him. He is able to apologize and fix those behaviors, which is an interesting pattern of behavior. Not understanding a wrong till someone points it out to you, and then you improve it. Unless you point it out to Whit, he probably won’t notice the problem. I think these behaviors say a lot about his past and it’s effects on him.

Whit’s past would explain his social incompetence at times. His father wasn’t there to be a good example and his mom probably wasn’t there for his teen years, which is a huge time for development in minors. This leads to him not having the proper role-models.

(This is an off section, but I felt the need to bring it up. Whit is biracial, Asian American, American/Chinese, a race that faces a lot of discrimination in America. The DRDT creator is very well versed in his research of the topic and ideas he handles. Ace is a lovely example, including the higher chances of anxiety and chances for eating disorders they have. I won’t say I know anything, but I wouldn’t completely discard the idea of him facing discrimination in the past.)

So yeah, Whit was a lonely kid, why does it matter? It matters because if he is as much of a former loner as mentioned, then that would also explain why Whit keeps people-pleasing. (I think there is a want for acceptance, but a struggle to believe that it’s possible without the personas.)

His backstory also explains his seeing the best in others' mindset. People tend to think that the only way to look at negative events in life is through negativity, but that’s wrong. When you have nothing, then you’ll leach onto anything to hold onto, like optimism. This idea was used in the canon Danganronpa games with Nagito, and I think a similar principle is shared with Whit. Whit probably attached onto something positive because he literally had nothing else. Optimism, in that case, is the easiest answer. Whit deals with life, and the killing game by trying to find the good. Whit's life might not be great, but that doesn't mean he has to see it that way. It's probably why he keeps omitting the fact about his mother's death. Why look back on the past when there is so much left to do in life. He probably thinks this is what she would've wanted, based on his idolization of her.

This all brings me to my last section…

Part 12 - His belief in privacy:

Whit is very adamant in respecting others' privacy. In Episode 1 of Chapter 2, Whit brings up the idea that everyone keeps the secrets to themselves until they have more time to work through it properly. This gets ignored by Arturo, who does it anyway. I've already gone into depth talks about privacy with Charles and David. What I wanna talk about is why Whit is so big on it. Because that is a question we haven't gotten an answer to. Why? Well, while I'm not sure, I think it has something to do with his past.

I have also lost my mom, like Whit. When I lost my mom, people wouldn't stop questioning me about it. Whit described his mom as sophisticated, so that makes me think she could've been fairly known in the community. Whit probably had a lot of strangers question him about it, despite his feelings about it. Mix this with Whit's pleasing other mentality, then his adamantly about respecting others' privacy. This is the only part of his mentality that goes against his more logical character. Charles even says he gave Teruko the secret he had because he wouldn't trust Whit to sacrifice someone's' privacy when it's necessary. Charles has a strong understanding of Whit's, so I'd trust him. This is the only part of Whit that he never changes, even when he has different personas on. It's consistent.

This concludes the final section to this analysis, so onto the conclusion.

Conclusion:

Whit is a character that gets overlooked by a majority of the fandom despite being pretty much universally loved. His past is so much more than what we've seen or is talked about. His caring nature is something that has so much hidden depths. And, unless he is the Chapter 2 killer, there is so much left to find about Whit.

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(Thanks for reading. Again, sorry if it's a bit all over the place. I hope I could shed some more light on Whit's character for ya'll. Have a good day/night.)

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #drdt whit #whit young #fanganronpa #drdt fanart

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