#I WISH I WAS LESS STABLE FOR REAL

[tazzmanian-devil]

guy who hasnt taken his meds in a week: oh so theres no point? were all doomed? im doomed? im going to die? theres no point in trying? its all hopeless?

[shysuccubusstuff]

Dilf! Sylus pt. 1

Content: Headcanons + some longer parts ♡; Age gap + mention of child abuse (not made by Sylus, of course) + alcohol taking + consensual/dubcon (alcohol intake on both sides).

Summary: After graduating university, you've been looking for a stable job for several months, but for the moment, you just have to content yourself with working as a nanny during the summer holidays. Who would have thought that you would meet such a hot and single (did I already say hot?) dad that would require your services?

Note: I just remembered the fanarts done by someone in Twitter with the boys as dilfs, these fanarts together with some Lana del Rey unreleased songs got me hyped for him... Wish I could see an even older Sylus... he's already hot af tho. I keep saying that I have a bunch of stuff almost ready but I never post it, talk about being like a man (jk depending on how you take the joke). Still, I hope everyone is having a nice week. This video just popped on my tl, hope anyone finds it funny!

Note 2: I'm lowkey scared that some parts are just too corny/cringy... I have no real idea how an older Sylus would speak with some woman that has around... 10? years less than him. Let me know if you want a pt. 2 + the same prompt with other LI!!

You had graduated several months ago, and yeah, of course you knew that finding a job would be the easiest thing in the world, but come on, your area wasn't even THAT full. How was it possible that you were almost the only one that didn't find a job after graduating? You were laying in bed, scrolling through your phone as you kept complaining in your mind. Suddenly, your phone rang, making you almost fall to the floor, quickly taking the call with the hope of getting the job.

"Hello?" You were able to hear some faint sounds in the background, some running around, together with a few giggles.

"... Yes, sorry. I was just busy with something. I call because of your advertisement, the one about working as a nanny?" Suddenly, you heard the deep and velvety voice of a man, even if that voice sounded slightly tired.

"Sure! I'm available for all the week, including weekends. I can even stay at your house if you prefer it that way, I do have to say that the rate does get a bit--"

"That's ok, I don't mind paying as much as you want as long as you do your job appropietly. We can meet this weekend to present them to you, if you are able, of course."

"Yes! Sure, let's meet that day, maybe in the morning?"

"Then that's settled. Thank you, let's meet in a couple days." The man hanged the call, barely allowing you to wave him goodbye. Well, at least that was somewhat solved... right?

The week went fast, with you barely moving around apart from buying groceries or spending your time with some not so interesting game as you complained about your boring holiday with your closest friend. Before you know it, you were already getting ready for that meeting, with your hands starting to sweat a bit as you tried to imagine the kind of children that man could have. Oh God, what if they were the annoying kind? The ones that mess with you cause they hate all their nannies, always acting up and... Wait, just calm yourself, it can't be that bad... right? You grabbed your bag, carrying all the documents that you may or may not need as you kept repeating into your head that there was no way that you would have such bad luck.

You finally entered the café, your hands still sweating a bit as you tried to guess who was the man that had called you. That question was quickly answered, as there was only a single man with not only one, but two children. The two small boys were busy sketching some stuff, with both of them sometimes talking to each other, with the man sometimes answering to them while he took a few sips from the coffee cup. You made your way to the table, clenching your bag as you kept telling yourself to calm down.

"Hi! I'm the nanny, we spoke a few days ago, I don't know if you remember me?" The man's gaze slowly moved from his children drawings to you, his gaze turning much cooler as soon as he stopped looking at them.

"Yes, I do remember you, do you want something to drink while we talk?" You sat down, trying your best not to stumble on your words while you tried to think as fast as possible, your hands lending him the papers that proved that this was not the first time you had worked as a nanny.

"Thank you, I don't want anything, we can just talk like this... I mean, if you want!" The man lifted his brow a bit, perhaps a bit taken aback by your nervous movements, his eyes quickly scanning through the documents.

"That is fine. My name is Sylus. These are my children, Luke and Kieran. Luke is the one on the left, Kieran is the one on the right." The children moved to look at you, both of their faces with several scars that went up their face and arms. The sight made you shiver a bit, but seeing how the two of them were completely calm, you chose to wait in case there was something wrong going on. "They are 8 years old. You will have to work from Monday to Friday, I have to plan the weekends, as it depends on the week. I will make sure to pay you accordingly, of course, you will have bonuses the days that you are asked to stay. I don't require you to teach them nor make any housework, just to take care of them. I would pay you around 25$ the hour, I hope that is enough?" You almost choked on your own spit, trying your best not to act surprised. This was not the first time you had worked for some rich family around town, and yeah, he may be the hottest guy you had ever seen, but you just had to focus on your work. Maybe you could even make it your full time job if you did it correctly?

"There's no problem! I just need to know when should I start working, well, as well as where the house is." As you kept speaking, the two small children got down their chairs, moving closer to you.

"So... when will you start living with us?" Luke rest his face on your leg, with Kieran following him close by. Guess this was their way of greeting you?

Dilf! Sylus who is away most of the day, arriving at late hours at night when both Luke and Kiera are already asleep. He arrives on his motorbike, parking it on the garage, entering the house in complete silence except the sound of the keys being left on the entrance. You had already noticed that this was indeed a routine, as the twins already let you know on the first days you were there. You were barely able to hear him as your room was quite close to the staircase, hearing his soft steps on the carpet as he made his way to his bedroom.

Dilf! Sylus who had no kind of photos or paintings of his (possibly) late wife. The whole house was neatly decorated with mostly dark colours, with the childrens' room being the only exception, as they were the ones that had chosen their own furniture. It took you a few weeks to find out that the two boys had been adopted by Sylus several years ago after they arrived to his door barefoot, with their limbs and faces even more scarred than now. Despite the traumatic experience, the two children seemed mostly fine, even if it was clear that they were extremely anxious the second one of them got separated from the other.

Dilf! Sylus who sometimes arrives in the morning, as always, he leaves the keys on the entrance, rushing to the children's room so he could kiss their forehead, with the two of them hugging him by the neck, allowing him to carry the two of them, each with one arm to the kitchen, where he allowed them to sit as he started making breakfast. These days weren't common, but each time he arrived, you were able to see just how much he cared for Luke and Kieran, with Sylus even spending a few hours playing around with them before leaving to work once more. At first, you tried to avoid interrupting them, choosing to stay silent as you helped him make breakfast or simply tidying up after the twins. That was until the three of them started to open themselves to you, with Luke and Kieran beginning to introduce you on their private chats, even getting to the point in which you were able to see what resembled a smile on Sylus' face. This marked the beginning of the closer relationship between the two.

Dilf! Sylus who begins to have more free time. And despite this would usually mean a reduction on your working hours, this changed nothing, except the small trips with the three of them. The trips started as short outings to the park, sometimes to a restaurant around town. Then, the trips became longer, with the four of you spending a couple days on different countries, as Sylus worked, having to meet with different people while the three of you spending your time by walking around the different cities.

Dilf! Sylus who starts to spend more time alone with you. Inviting you to his private gym in case you had some free time while the twins were sleeping, together with even allowing you to help him test the condition of his motorbike. It had been clear since the start that Sylus was in no way feeble, as you often saw him carrying Luke and Kieran while all of you played together. But it was then, when he was too busy checking every single element of his motorbike, with him simply wearing a tight sleeveless t-shirt, allowing you to see just how much time he spent keeping his body as fit as possible.

"Like what you see?" Sylus' eyes were once again focused on you, his hands slightly tainted by the motor oil, some even staining his face.

"I was just-- Sorry" You felt your face heat up, your eyes starting to move around the garage trying to find anything to focus on.

"No need to excuse yourself, sweetie. I understand, can you help me a bit with this? It seems that I need to check this thoroughly."

Dilf! Sylus who begins to make the work harder for you, with him sometimes rubbing against you as he passed by, making you blush just from remembering the veins on his arms and hands as he worked out. The sexual tension between the two finally came to an end the night the two of you found each other in the living room. Sylus had just arrived, his cloak still being carried under his arm.

"Good night, I didn't expect company so late at night, tell me, would you mind accompanying me for some alcohol?" You bit your lip, still not sure on what to do, before you answered him, Sylus added: "Don't worry, the boys won't be up until maybe around 12, they spent all their energy playing with their friends."

"I suppose it would be ok then, just a bit, ok? I'm not that good with alcohol..." Sylus nodded, going to the kitchen and coming back with two small glasses, together with a bottle of tequila, salt and a few slices of lemon. He had already changed into more comfortable clothes, with him only wearing some expensive smock that looked perhaps a bit too short for your own safety.

"How about we play some cards while we drink? The one who loses will have to drink." You knew that wasn't the best choice for you, but how could you refuse when he was already smirking as if he had already won?

Before you were able to notice it, the bottle of tequile was almost finished, both of your faces being as red as a tomato.

"Come on! Just accept your defeat already, afraid that someone younger than you is better than you?" You smiled, your left hand moving the liquid inside the small glass while you kept glancing at the cards on your right hand.

"Oh? Someone has gotten bolder now, do you always talk to your bosses like that?" Sylus left his glass on the table, smirking while he left the cards fall on the table, resting his head on his left arm. "Just so you know, I have no kind of insecurity regarding my age, sweetie."

"You sure? I mean, you work out a bit too much for someone--"

"I have no idea why would you assume that, the fact that I work out a lot is merely due to the fact that my job--" Sylus stopped himself, taking a deep breath before going on. "That is just because of some requirements that I have to meet in order to keep my position." You looked a bit confused, not realising until then that you had never wondered why did he always arrive so late. Still, the alcohol was still running down your veins, making it difficult to even realise the possible danger of it.

"Suuuure, let's just say I believe you. Why would an old man like you need to stay as fit? Are you sure that you're not planning on wooing some naïve girl into your claws?" You laughed, taking a small sip out of the glass.

"Maybe I want to do just that." Sylus' gaze darkened, his usual dangerous aura coming back to him as his crimson eyes pierced your face. "Maybe I should do just that, I'm sure I would be able to teach some wild kitten just how she is supposed to behave to be considered a good girl." You felt a shiver being sent through your whole body, the hair on your arms stooding up as your face flushed from the tone Sylus had used in those last few words. Sylus chuckled at your reaction, taking once again his glass from the table and playfully moving the ice cubes within his glass that was now filled with some old whisky he had taken from the cabinet. "I was just messing around, no need to act all coy now, we have been in much more intimate situations, am I wrong, sweetie?" Sylus took a small sip of whisky, changing the way he sat to one that made the cloth rode up allowing you to catch a timid glimpse of his underwear. Feeling as you were being tested on purpose, you quickly rose from the couch, thanking the courage given by the alcohol as you suddenly pressed your lips against his, your body clamping against his bare chest.

What first began as a one sided kiss was soon reciprocated, with Sylus soon taking the lead of it, his rough hands positioning on your hip, his thumbs making small circles around the area as his tongue suddenly entered your mouth, the meek kiss soon turning into a lewd one, the room now filled with wet noises together with soft moans and whimpers.

Just as you were starting to feel slightly light-headed, Sylus got away from you, moving his right hand towards your face and caressing your cheek with extreme care. "Guess I made a mistake. It seems this wild kitten is very much aware of what she is capable to do to me." You bashfuly locked eyes with him, encountering one of the softest looks you had ever seen. "I would have liked it more if this had happened on a better occasion, one in which you had enough courage to do all these bold moves without relying on a silly game." Sylus smiled, his eyes still fixed on you, making you feel even more flushed as you could clearly tell just how much he had been holding back from doing anything inappropriate. "Let me take you to bed, I think we should talk about this... change in our relationship tomorrow, when both of us are fully aware of what all of this means." Sylus lifted you with ease, opening the door with one of his legs and soon arriving to your bedroom, suddenly changing the way he held you so he could acommodate the sheets. Before you could say anything, he covered your body, planting a tendeer kiss on your forehead. "Sleep tight, I hope you won't regret anything tomorrow, sweetie."

[emmyrosee]

“Pssst…”

“Choke.”

“Wanna makeout?”

Instantly, as if on a cue, Hajime’s face blisters into a flush, eyes widening and brows angry as he whips his head to face you.

You’re smiling, and he hates it, and you’re wearing his shirt that completely drowns your frame, hands and knees on the mattress just inches away, and he’s convinced he could live an extra 15 years if you hadn’t stumbled into his life.

But you did stumble into his life. Yay him.

His pencil taps rapidly against his desk, his studying having been completely hijacked by your straightforward flirts. Inviting you to do homework with him never really ended well, and how he hasn’t learned this lesson yet, is a mystery to you both.

“I’m busy.”

You huff and shift to sit on the bed as the gods intended, “you can take three minutes to makeout with me.”

“When was the last time we made out less than ten minutes?” He asks, and he wishes he hadn’t by the way your cocky grin splays over your face.

“Cant help that you’re into me,” you croon. He groans as he tosses his hand up to his face, scrubbing gently to revitalize himself. He’s quickly snapped out of it when he feels your feet wrap around the base of his desk chair and pull him closer to the bed.

This, has him chuckling from disbelief, moving his hands from his face and letting his eyes flick towards your feet. “Be so for real right now,” he says, snickering.

You bite your tongue between your teeth, but before you can do anything else, you scream as he makes a dash at you, barely letting you kick in defense before he pins you down to the bed, his broad chest doing most of the caging while his fingers spider up your sides and his lips sponge kisses on your neck and ears.

“You’re so annoying,” he growls, the vibrations of the rasp tickling your neck. His fingers still and instantly, your arms shift to toss around his neck, looking up at him longingly.

You lift a hand up to card his hair away from his face, “hi.”

“Hey baby.”

With that, he leans down to kiss you, knee planting on the bed to keep him stable and allow him to deepen the kiss. You mewl happily, letting your fingers push his head impossibly closer to you.

You taste sweet, like the bowl of fruit you’ve been stealing from him for the past hour, and you’re so warm from being swaddled in his blankets that he feels calm just by being close to you.

Then again, you always have that affect on him.

With a slight bite of your lips, he slowly starts to pull back, planting little pecks to soothe the bites. You giggle happily and reach up eagerly for each one.

“Haji?”

“What?”

Biting your lip cheekily, he hardens his gaze and reinforces his grip slightly, ready to restart a tickle attack if needed.

“Got you to makeout with me.”

You smirk and lick his nose with the tip of your tongue, making him reel back slightly with a scrunch of his face. He looks at you blankly, while you laugh and play with the locks of hair at the nape of his neck.

“How do you always manage to get your damn way?” He mumbles, leaning down to press another kiss on your lips. Under him, you giggle and chase his lips, clearly eager that now you’ve gotten him to kiss you once, he’s keen to give you more.

Like he always does.

Like he always will.

“Cant help that you’re into me.”

“I really am. Asshole.”

“I love you, too.”

[astrow0rldx]

PAC: Who you are to this person in their life, mind & fantasies

૮ ˶︶^︶˶ ა🧸🐇<3

We are all just different concepts, roles, and versions to everyone in our life.

Pile One

Signs: Worshipping you. So Anxious - Genuine. INTJ? ENTJ? ENTP? xNTx. Dark Feminine, Unavailable Feminine vibes. CEO/office siren energy. Nonchalant/Distant. Self-Assured/Focused. Independent! One of you could have Scorpio/8th house placements or Earth sign.

They look at you as a strong mf. Very strong, physically but especially mentally. Your no one to be fw. Your extremely smart, and clever. Probably less naive. They see you as a confident, overcoming person who is loyal and committed to things you value and goals you set your mind to. Your courageous, intellectual, logical, and can be really good analyzer and straight forward. They think of you as whole, complete and someone that can guide them, teach them. Give them wisdom and hope.

Their feelings for you is very primal. Really Sexual or Thrilling. For some of you this person your asking about is a masculine energy between 16-29? You have a very powerful, transformative effect on them. A thirsty dog with their tongue hanging out. Ready to be satisfied, and you satisfy them. Your a satisfaction for them, kind of like someone they wish they had might literally be their type. They could be obsessive, tied to you. Possessive over you and just very demonic/low vibrational in their feelings, because its so intense. Its so exciting, and adrenaline inducing to them. About how they feel towards you, very chaotic. A lot rooting from desire and the root (action) chakra.

In their fantasy they could just fight any competition or barrier, win you over, and leave with you. Just start preparing and making plans for actions and next move. Their fantasy is having a choice and decision they have to make with you, a risk they might have to take. "Should I stay or should I go" having that courage!! They desire to hope and pray you guys can come together, celebrate. Be mutual and experience on another. They have so much faith in this. They already done wished upon a star. But their conscious thoughts about you is maybe feeling a little defeated, like a victim. and all up in their feels trying work it out & be emotionally mature about things. understand their feelings. If they aren't feeling defeated or like the victim, they might be like I said in that demonic, low vibration, desire energy where their trying to win you over by any means. they will do whatever, manipulate and be the bad guy on maybe your emotions, your emotional state, your romance, and your caring side.

Girl its half an hour past ten Got me waiting in my bed You’ve been busy in my head Since noon I got to feel you, freak you

come to my appointment

Now I feel the urge, I hope you feel it too Now imagine girl what I'mma do to you Girl the image of your body got me sprung Never felt like this about another one You are killing me girl cause is half past one My body trembles every time my clock agrees

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Pile Two

Signs: Earth Sign!! City Girl. High-Maintenance. Materialistic. Fashion Junkie. Hustler, Money Motivated. Good with Cosmetic things? Cosmetologist? Business Owner? Real-estate, looking for a home? Present yourself with class & value.

They see you as a very materialistic person, of this world. Someone who is stable, but not stable. Like a hustler. You might be insecure always chasing security or materialistic things. Working a lot, Starting a business. Focusing on home, cars, fashion, and items you want. Stingy with it to. Hoarding or Collector probably too. Just someone who builds the life they want around them, a reality creator, a manifestor.

(You and Pile One (so far) is asking about some people that's definitely ready to fuck) Their feelings for you is they might feel isolated from you, or need to be isolated from you to go within and focus on themself. Figure out what they want, because their stuck on something that they might not have had the time, or chose the time to think about. If they did their overthinking and working it out. But they definitely feel really lustful towards you, a lot of sexual energy. Hit it & quit it energy almost. A fun experience that they intensely desire. But they definitely feel a horny, exciting, drawn pull towards you. Could be intense.

Don't lower your self-worth now, even though it shouldn't be depending on this person anyways. They put you on a VERY high pedestal. Someone who they have to work for. In their fantasies, they will take on any baggage, and hardships for his empress. + The Lovers. which mean they definitely fantasize about loving on you, admiring you, being in a relationship with you. Winning you as a trophy. Their thoughts about you could be that their worried about your security and money and think its killing you, or its killing them. Making them feel inferior. They desire to leave something behind and create this little emotional, vulnerable, cutesy dynamic with you. Rush in and ask you stuff, tell you stuff, confront you on things. Again I'm scared this person is not a loyal, committed person in your life or planning to be but that's only for some.

I'm representin' for the bitches All eyes on your riches No time for the little dicks You see the bigger the dick The bigger the bank, the bigger the Benz The better the chance to get close to his rich friends I'm going after the big man My g-string make his dick stand Make it quick, then slow head by the night stand Like lightning, I wanna nigga with a wedding ring Bank accounts in the Philippines

I make him eat it while my period on A little nasty ho, red-bone but a classy ho Young jazzy ho and don't be scared If you're curious just ask me hoes And yes dick sucking comes quite natural Cause I'm da baddest bitch, what

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Pile Three

Signs: Water sign or Earth sign. Mysterious. Feminine. Have y'all met? New person in your life, from work/school? R&B. Throwback Music.

They see you as someone who might be hard to read. Hard to understand, and quite mysterious and unknown to them. Maybe manipulative, deceptive & delusional. They might even see you as spoiled, or someone who is given good opportunities. Blessed, and for some people its not always blessings from others, but they see you as someone who creates blessings for themself. A stable & grounded Person. But they definitely see you as a person on their own, and independent. Mysterious and Independent.

They feel again, hidden from you. Somethings unknown but they are willing to build with you, and work with you. Even provide for you. They might feel anxiety, nervous and a lot of overthinking limiting thoughts that prevent this connection from growing.

They desire to build some type of stability between you two. But they need to read you, and know something. The moon keeppsss coming out for how they view & feel towards you, but what they want & Desire is this High Priestess. With 10 of pentacles, this can be long lasting, stable. Is this like a job opportunity? Provider, Daddy Dynamic? In their fantasies, having you and being able to just be with you is their wish fulfillment. They want to get everything they wish from you. They fantasize about not being emotionally stuck, and flowing through, moving on, coming to better light. They really fantasize about starting this material project. Study Buddy? Work Project? I don't know but some type of goal and stability they fantasize about doing with you. Your mystery gives them time to fantasize, and in their mind they might daydream, and create these ideas and wishes. They think about letting loose, having fun with you. Being drunk with you maybe. But they might be focusing & thinking about the negative and sad side of the connection & what made them hurt.

Red light, you know I can't make this thing that official Believe, we had a great night but I ain't the type to tell you that I miss you, shit You don't like that, I make this easy, leaving After sexing on the floor Baby, I know you need me like I need you But I'm not the one you wanna love

[feveredvisions]

Kiss Me Thru The Phone

(Harry Da Souza x you!!)

Here's the Epilogue btw and my Masterlist if you want some more filth or some fluff xx

Synopsis: Harry Da Souza flakes on yet another date with his girlfriend. Tonight, she reaches her breaking point when she waited at Charlie's for nothing. Taking offence at the pity look the hostess gave her at the lounge. Even more of a loser when she lied about being "Missus Da Souza" just to lock in their reservation as they prioritise married couples than fickle boyfriends and girlfriends. Harry twists her searing hot anger into something even hotter and wetter. Keeping his double-life as a fixer for a ruthless crime family and as a boyfriend who's an on-call clinician for the elite, he races back home to fix the only real thing that matters most to him.

Author's note: So after I finished watching the first episode of MobLand, "Kiss Me Thru The Phone" by Soulja Boy kept playing in my mind. I hope this does not spoil too much. To those who have seen it, I got inspired by the part where Harry promises to try one therapy session with his wife, Jan, and leaving the scheduling to her as he guarantees her that he'll be there. Swear. And just like Jan, I am quite skepctical but yeah, sure, Harry. So that's how this story was conceived. Originally, this was dramatic and painful as shit, but then the wind changed. I made it smutty as shit because it works just like their dynamic as a dysfunct couple. Tysm @cafekitsune for the cute dividers!!

Roses are red. I'm a twat. A hundred ain't shit 'cause you're worth more than that. Wish I was there to kiss you proper, But I'm stuck playing hero... Call you later, my love P.s. Don't burn the flowers and the note yeah? They're extremely flammable - H. XXX

"A fucking joke." You bitterly spat out as you crumpled the note and threw it in the fireplace to burn into ashy oblivion like how Harry had been to you.

Tonight was supposed to be your dinner date with him at Charlie's restaurant in Mayfair that you booked two months prior. It was a serious warzone to even secure a reservation there as there were other richer posher cunts who were adamant to buy out a spot, but surprisingly all it took was lying to the reservationist that you were a Missus Da Souza instead of your maiden name to lock in a table. You scoffed at the memory of it. Of course, married couples would be prioritised. Less drama and they're more stable. Unlike you and Harry... That was probably the closest you'll ever get to ever being truly his.

Tonight, you showed up at Charlie’s in your long off-shoulder red silk dress and a pashmina shawl to match. You had your tell-tale signs that Harry was not at all going to make it tonight. He’s always fashionably on time but never late. But you waited for him at the waiting lounge and only ended up being a fool. He was too much of a hero to his VIP patients and to the world to spare a minute being your lover. You had nothing against his job as an on-call clinician for high-profile posh families but it was getting ridiculous lately how often he was always out. How often were these people terribly ill? You never questioned it nor nagged him about it as you respected his profession and the secrecy it demanded, but tonight, it just about killed you.

Defeated, you took a cab home and when you reached home, the florist truck was unloading a delivery of ten dozens of red roses. All pathetic sorry red roses and no sign of Harry. It was stupid, really. Another empty gesture. A currency of materialistic emotional bribe. It really pissed you off. Burnt off whatever patience and grace you've got left. 

The safe phone which was a wee keypad phone that Harry provided you was pressed against your ear. It was an emergency phone in case he needs to be contacted directly for whatever reason. Another bullshit. He doesn't always answer unless he's the one calling it. Your emotions were in an uncontainable chaotic storm. The stench of the subtle sweet fragrance of the roses in the living room were starting to make your head throb. Heady. Borderline nauseous if you think more of it.

Harry called you after he just finished a bloody clean-up for the Harrigans family. Burning off all the evidences, scrubbing off and rinsing any DNA off the earth after dumping the body in the river Thames in the dead of night. Something you'll never know. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he got inside the driver’s seat of his car, the engine on. His heart pounding. For a moment, he closed his eyes. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears too followed by a brief sharp ringing. The vein in his neck throbbing.

His life and everything in it always held at a gunpoint no matter how much he tries to keep certain things away from his fixer business. Now that the family mess had been dealt with for the night, this was a bigger one with his girl he had to fix. The blood splatters on his jacket he can explain. A bloody emergency surgery he had to assist to. More like a hands-on surgery to keep a war from erupting.

You were walking around the house, pushing all the windows open to let fresh air in whilst the cellphone was pressed on your ear. "Honestly, Harry. What were you thinking sending me all these roses? You want me to make a salad out of the petals? Have a mouthful of your sorry flowers?"

"Babe, no, don't even—"

"I don't even have the vase to fit all of them in…” You murmur, trying to distract yourself from lashing out at him through the phone by focusing on the mundane. But then you reached your breaking point and unable to stop your tears when you caught a reflection of yourself in the mirror by the staircase. Your mouth quivering into a pout, stifling a whimper as your throat tightened up from the tears. You looked absolutely ravishing in your dress. Spent hours getting ready for tonight's special dinner, only for all of it to go down the drain. It was beyond frustrating.

“And I’m wearing this really gorgeous red Isabel Marant dress that I look really good in and you’re not even here to see it. Didn’t even get to wear it for a happy occasion.” You spoke through your tears.

“Babe, listen—” Harry's voice cracked through the burner phone. In the background, you could hear the hum of his BMW engine along with the occasional horn blaring.

“No, you listen.” You snapped, swiping at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand. Kicking your high heels off and storming back to the living room where the stupid boxes of the the red roses were. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it was? Sitting in the lobby like some loser, watching every other couple get seated while the host kept giving me that pity look? And then…and then I come home to this!” you kicked at one of the bouquet boxes. Some loose petals fell down the floor. “You think flowers fix anything?” you kicked another box of roses harder.

“Oi!” His voice sharp and dangerous. “The fuck you kickin’ my gift for, huh?”

“So now you care about them getting wrecked?!” you hissed.

He just chuckled darkly. Sadistic fucker. 

And pretty sure it was the unmistakeable sound of the metallic clang of the undoing of his belt buckle and him unzipping his jeans. You frown as you tried to make sense of what you were hearing through the phone. Surely, he wouldn't do what you initially thought he's doing right? 

Then—ptui— spitting on his palm followed by…a slick, creamy sound of a flesh, followed by a sigh of relief. It automatically made your thighs press together that you had to sit on the couch, kicking off and stepping on some of the stupid roses in the process. Breathing hitched in your throat.

“... Harry?”

“You wanna act like a brat?” The sound of his fist dragging over his angrily throbbing weeping erect cock obscenely loud in your ear. “Then listen to what you're missin’, babe.”

You bit your lip and swallowed a moan. The rhythmic wet stroking of his cock sent a bolt of heat directly to your cunt. “You fucking dick—”

“Mmm yeah. Thick too. Just how you like it.” He taunted with a groan. Then his voice shifted to menacing. “Bet your pretty pussy’s drippin’ right now, pissed off as you are.” 

“Fuck you.” Your lips turned into a helpless pout as you lightly bit the tip of your pointer finger like a guilty nun quietly indulging in the Song of Solomons. Rucking your dress up to your hips as you leaned back and propped your legs up, spreading your thighs open. Biting your lip as you took your panties off and flung it on the floor, landing amongst the roses.

“Nah, fuck you, darlin’. Got me hard as shit hearing you get mad at me. And even lyin’ to that posh twat at Charlie's. Bloody Mrs. Da Souza. Cheeky thing.” another schlick, louder this time.

You arched your back as your fingers circled on your hard sensitive clit. “Had to. They only prioritise wives.” A moan slipped out. “Not that you'd know. Too busy playing doctor for every rich slag in London.”

“Tell you what,” he sped up. Breath hitching. “I’ll put a proper ring on it. Marry me. I'll spike your anti baby pills, knock you up so deep, you'll waddle down the aisle.”

You whimpered as you slipped two fingers inside you, walls hungrily squeezing around it, whining for his actual cock. Hitting the spot that immediately brought in the impending sensation of your orgasm. “Romantic. You'd ruin marriage.”

“Hell yeah, we would.” A groan. “Fuck tradition. I'd bend you over the altar, eat your cunt in front of the priest—”

“Ah! Harry!” You cried out as you came. Hips bucking. Your orgasm coming in a flashflood of squirt. Showering the roses as your body convulsed, followed by a loud shameless bubbly wet queef.

Harry growled. “Christ. That mouthy cunt talkin’ back to me now?” he mocked. His voice thick and angry. For a moment, his car swerves as he punches the gas to hell.

You weakly laughed as you fell limp into the couch, still having slight twitching. Your fingers still fucking your turned on and ravenous pussy. “Says you're shit at apologies.”

“Mmmm I'll eat that fucking cunt.” A slorch of a wet, open-mouthed kiss came out the receiver. Your clit hardening and your pussy walls growing slicker and warmer like molten honey again. “She’s creaming again ain't she?”

You breathe quietly as your fingers scissor and fuck your slobbery pussy. Filling the room with the obscene sounds of your wet and creamy queefs. Each puff like a taunt like it was sassing him, to which harry growls at.

“That’s right. Argue with me you filthy cunt,” he snarls. “Best fuckin’ pussy  I've ever had. Queefin’, creamin’, squirtin’ all over my bastard roses.”

Your whimper turned into a cry as you reached another squirting peak, which lingered so you kept fucking yourself wetly with your fingers. The pleasure of your second orgasm spasming through your walls and your womb. Your body twitching and trembling. 

Harry hissed over the phone, keeping himself from busting out his load. His fist still working his hard cock in brutal slick strokes as his pre-cum dripped down from the tip of his slit down to his shaft. Punishing himself as much as he's punished you.

“Fuckin’ hell, babe. Listen to that. Greedy little slag creamin’ for me, yeah?”

Another wet pfft came outta your pussy walls clenched around nothing. Pissed off and empty. “You’re a fucking tease.”

“Tease?” he darkly chuckles. The car engine letting out a mean snarl as he shifts his gear, tires screeching. “You're the one spread out on our couch, ruining my roses with your creamy squirt, babe. Bet they smell like you now—fuck.” He hissed as he achingly forces his sensitive hard cock back in his pants with one hand and zipping his jeans back up. “Wish I could bottle that scent. Wear it like cologne. Let every bastard in London know of the lady who owns me.”

“Harry—” You whine as your thighs begin to tremble. Eyes tearing up from frustration as your pleasure won't die down. 

“Nah, nah, keep goin’,” he orders. “Make her squirt again, babe. I wanna hear it.”

You obey, curling your fingers whilst you grind your clit on the heel of your palm. Eyeballs rolling back as another wave of pleasure coils tightly in your belly. Helpless whimpers escaping your mouth.

“That's it, love,” he snarls. “Come all over yourself. Make a proper mess. When I get home, I'm lickin' every drop off ya. Then fuckin’ you so deep, I'll get your pretty cunny queefin' ‘round me cock, yeah?”

A high pitched scream tears from your throat as your third orgasm hits you like a freight train. The roses spread in front of the couch were thoroughly soaked. The petals and stems glistening from your depravity. Your own personal crime scene.

Harry's breathing was ragged through the phone. His voice is as rough as sandpaper as he murmurs to himself. “Fuckin’ hell.”

A debauched mess in your red Isabel Marant dress that's still tucked up to your waist and partly drenched in your own fluids too. The air reeked of the evening breeze, the woody aroma from the fireplace, and the stench of sex mixed with a heady rosy scent.

A wanton thing you were as you sank down the couch. Post-coital electric humming in your warm damp skin. “Fuck you, Da Souza.”

“Promise, I will.” He was sincere this time. The engine of his BMW roars as he accelerates. “Soon as I walk through the door.”

You scoff. “You're barely even here yet.”

“But I am.” he taunts. “Already got my hands on you, didn't I? Made you cum ‘n squirt three times without even touchin’ you.”

“Cheater.”

“Nah, just good at my job.” He pauses. His voice soft when he speaks again. “Actually, quick change of plans. Get dressed, babe. We're goin’ out.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Charlie's. That table’s still ours.”

“Harry, it's past midnight.”

“Not for us. Let me fix this.”

For a moment, your heart stutters. Letting him put in the effort this time.

“Want that dress back on. Leave the knickers off. I wanna feel how fuckin’ wet you are under the table.”

You sat up, the post-coital rush of headache almost knocking you back down. “You're insane…”

“Insanely, madly in love with you, darling.” He shifts gears. “Twenty minutes, babe. Be ready.”

Epilogue at Charlie's maybe?

Thanks so much for reading, your comments, and your likes and reblogs!! MWAH xx

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

Mutt

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x reader

Warnings/Genre: a horribly horribly long slow burn, excuse any typos, fluff, slight angst, offstandish reader, slightly overbearing new friend (not canon character), potentially cute dogs, jealous friend, said friend has a crush on Joel, Joel gets hurt on patrol, mentions of blood, reader gets a cut on her hand, slightly romantically tense situations, let me know if I missed anything!!

Work Count: 8k

A/n: I've been telling this story to myself as I fall asleep at night and have decided to write down what I've daydreamed up so far!! Wish me luck! I hope this is good. . . And it's so long. . I'm so sorry

--- --- ---

Maria and Tommy found you on a patrol near the river.

It was a cold December this year, and your ratty, thin clothes were making it hard to stay warm. The only way to stay warm was to keep moving. Maria wasn't going to take you in, deadset on letting you pass around the town once the K9 cleared you.

Tommy wasn't so set. He figured that Jackson had the room. You were only one more person. Jackson would always use more people for patrols and work around Jackson.

The couple bickered back and forth for a few moments and once decided, Tommy shucked his jacket around your shoulders and gave you a ride back to Jackson. Once there, they settled you in a house across from them, not directly across more diagonally. You showered and they brought you to the mess hall.

You sat with Tommy and Maria, as well as another man and his kid, and another lady who seemed to have implanted herself in the family. She talked a lot. But you could care less, scarfing down your very delicious food was more important. You could feel the eyes of the man and child on you the entire time you ate.

That night, you slept warmly with a full stomach.

You woke early the next morning, so early the sun was barely up. As you finished dressing in some clothes that Maria had found you, knocking was heard.

You followed the noise to your front door and opened it to see Maria. She mentioned that she had a job for you. You nodded and pulled on a warm, heavy jacket. She led you to the stables and past the horse stalls to a back corner.

There were a few kennels back here, ten at the most. There were dogs in every one.

Maria explained that these were dogs that had wandered into Jackson, or that had been picked up on patrols. They'd been dropped here as no one had the time to train feral dogs, and since you were new you'd been granted that job.

You thanked Maria, and she disappeared into the barn.

You took notes that the dogs had the bare minimum. Like just enough food to get by, a blanket per dog, and a bowl or two per kennel. You hmmpfed and noted that the dogs also had no real way to get outside if they needed, much less a designated area to go outside.

You got to work almost immediately. Introducing yourself to the dogs, filling food bowls from a bag stuffed into a corner and filling water bowls from a spicket on the wall at the end of the little hallway/room. You found a notebook and pencil, deciding to use it for information on the dogs, like scars and particular body characteristics. You found out, just by looking and feeling, that one of the dogs was pregnant. You weren't sure with how many.

You worked the rest of the day cleaning their kennels and fixing it up with your limited tools of whatever you found in the area.

Around the start of afternoon, there was a knock on the doorway of the room, and a cheery call of your name.

It was Debby, the lady who talks a lot from dinner yesterday night, "Hey! How you doing today? I didn't get to hear you talk a lot today? Oh.. You got put on mutt duty.." She trailed off at the end, giving disgruntled looks around the small room.

You nodded, standing up and wiping off your hands, "I'm settling in, slowly. Can I help you with something?"

"Oh well," She paused as she twirled a finger. "I was just on the way to lunch and heard you worked in here now. Just decided to stop by and see if you're hungry."

You thought for a few moments, noting your empty stomach as you'd accidentally skipped breakfast, "Sure. I'm at a good stopping point for right now."

"Great!" Debby grabbed your arm and skipped her way through the barn and into the open. "Have you met Joel yet?"

"Joel?" You asked, not picturing a face to the name.

"Joel Miller!" Debby was exasperated in her answer. "Tommy's brother! He sat with us at dinner last night with his kid."

His face was blurry in memory, but you kind of made the connection. You nodded at Debby's words.

"Joel is so great!" Debby started loudly. "He's so handsome and strong! And he's so kind and willing to do almost anything for anybody!! If only I could get him alone, even just for a few moments, but that kid of his is just glued to his side."

Her cheeriness died back as she mentioned Joel's kid, almost as if Debby has a resentment toward the 14-year-old. You couldn't make sense of her rambling. You'd spent so much time outside that you really didn't understand the way Debby felt towards Joel.

When you both entered the mess hall, you dished up. Debby's gasp pulled you from your focus and she gripped your jacket sleeve. You looked at her, brows scrunched in an irritated way.

"Joel's here!" She whispered at you, shaking you just a bit.

You turned fully to look in the direction your companion was looking in. You spotted Tommy and Maria first, and the presumed Joel and his kid sat across from them. They were engaging in something casual and eating slowly. And as if feeling eyes on them, Tommy turned first and the others followed in suit. Tommy waved you two over.

Debby practically skipped over, and you were much slower. Debby plopped right beside Maria, trying to get as close to Joel as he could. You sat beside Debby, careful to not evade any space.

"Hi Joel!" Debby greeted, too cheery for something casually quiet.

Joel only nodded in response, mouth full of food. His kid only glanced at Debby before back at her food.

"You settling in okay?" Maria asked, leaning forward around Debby.

You nodded, trying your best to not scarf down your food and match the pace of the others.

"You think this job is okay for you? Do you need anything?" Tommy asked, putting his spoon down to show full attentiveness.

"Umm," You swallowed your food. "Maybe a library and some blankets? And maybe a way to let the dogs go outside by themselves?" You were unsure if you were to grab anything extra for the dogs, or if you could modify that part of the barn.

Tommy nodded, "I can show you the library after this, and where we keep our extra clothes and blankets."

"Thank you," You almost started eating before Maria asked you a question.

"You fixing up that outside coral?" Maria asked.

You nodded, "Planning on it, so they don't make such a mess of inside."

"By yourself?" Maria asked again.

"Planning on it," You sense Maria's hesitation. "I was wondering where to get some wood and maybe some chicken wire, and maybe something to smooth the wood out so no one gets any splinters."

"Chicken wire?" Tommy asked, confused.

"So the dogs don't slip out under the fence," You pointed out.

Tommy nodded, "Well, uh my brother here is pretty well-versed in woodwork."

You looked at Joel, who sat across from Tommy. He looked back.

"Joel Miller," Joel reached a hand across the table to shake yours.

"Y/n," You told him, accepting his hand.

"Ellie," Joel's kid offered her hand once you pulled away from Joel. "You'll get the hang of eating slow eventually. I was like that too."

You nodded, settling back down into your chair.

Lunch went a lot slower than you were used to. But later than sooner, you were off to the library. Tommy led the way, informing you that you were welcome to take books home if needed, but to bring them back when you were done.

You nodded along to the information. And when Tommy left to go help Maria with something, you started wandering. You were looking for books on dog behavior and diet, hoping to find good ways to train the dogs under your care.

In just under two hours you found what you needed. You big goodbye to the library caretaker and was on your way back to the barn. You checked up on the dogs, cleaned up any mess they made, and got to reading. You took note of anything you deemed useful as you read.

A knock disrupted you. It was Tommy again. He brought an arm-full of old blankets. You met him at the doorway, thanking him. The man nodded and said if you needed anything that he'll be around. You thanked him again and decided that you'd wait to give the dogs their blankets until they were ready and trained to go outside.

After reading a few more pages, you fixed up some more things around the kennels and cleaned up the place a little more.

The sun went down and the town lights came on. Work slowed the darker it got in the barn. Soon enough, you bid the dogs goodnight and made your way home. You weren't too hungry so you skipped dinner and read until you couldn't anymore.

The next morning, you woke again before the sun. You peeked outside and saw that maybe only one or two people were awake. You got ready slowly, giving the town time to wake up before you officially started your day.

You shucked a big, thick jacket on and headed to the barn. The dogs greeted you with barks and wagging tails. For each kennel you cleaned, you gave the resident dog some love. You fed them and refreshed their water. Your stomach growled and you headed out to get your own breakfast.

The Miller Family was already there and settled, as was Debby. Debby seemed to be talking a very tired-looking Joel Miller's ears off about something. You see Ellie excuse herself from the table and make her way to join you in the line. She grabs a plate and comes up beside you.

“You smell like the barn,” Are the first words Ellie speaks to you. “Do you work with the horses?”

“No,” You answer as your grab some breakfast. “I work in the kennels.”

“Kennels?” Ellie presses.

“There’s some kennels in a room off to the side in the barn,” You tell her, grabbing a drink and utensils. “I can show you sometime if you like.”

“That’d be.. cool,” Ellie gives a chill smile, her eyes sparkling in excitement.

You lead the way to the table and you two take up your usual spots. You start eating instantly, extra hungry from the skipped dinner last night.

“You smell like the barn,” Debby notes with her nose wrinkled in distaste.

You swallow your bite of breakfast, “Woke up early.”

“And the barn was the first place you went?” She asks.

“Well yeah..,” You look at her finally, feeling a little subconscious. “Where else would I go?”

Debby opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again. She decided to not add any more comments about you and continue on with her breakfast.

A small conversation picks up between Tommy and Joel. Something about patrols and work that needs to be done around the town. It’s almost like they plan their day around each other, as if they want to see each other as often as possible. Maria joins in too, noting sightings from patrols on the west side. Joel nods, muttering about going out sometime today or tomorrow.

“What about the fences for the dogs?” Ellie interrupts.

“Still on my list,” Joel answers Ellie and then looks at you. “When would you want to start on that?”

“Whenever works best for you,” You tell him.

“We can start after this, if you’d like,” Joel suggests.

You nod, “That works.”

Joel nods and you go back to your breakfast.

You’re starting to get used to the slow breakfasts, but not really. You’re antsy to get back to the dogs. But breakfast does go by. Joel goes to get some tools and wood, and you go to meet him at the barn. The dogs were antsy for your return, barking and jumping on their chainlink cages as you walk by. You give them love and refill their waters if needed.

Joel shows up not long after, with Ellie in tow. You help carry wood and tools back to where you want to start. You two adults get to work, and you tell Ellie to make herself comfortable inside the barn and that the dogs are friendly. You and Joel tear up the old wooden fence and replace with new, better wood. You both hammer down and sand, making sure the fence is stable and has a lack of splinters. You slowly make your way around this corner of the barn, completing the process of setting up the fence by midday. Putting up the chicken wire only takes another hour or two.

When finished, you ask Joel for another favor, if he doesn’t mind. What? To help make the doggy doors a little better, and make it so the dogs goes in and out as they please.

Joel agrees, leaves to grab some more supplies, and when he comes back he shows you how to install his idea so you can do some doors as well.

Joel takes the previous doggy door off, cuts around the doorway to make the shape a little better, installs a new frame around the door, attaches this rubber to the sides and bottom, and attaches this swinging rubbery door to the doorway. Joel explains that the rubber will act as a seal to keep the cold air out of the kennel, and the new door should flap back and forth a few times before catching on the rubber and sealing the inside from the outside again.

You nod as you take in his instructions and explanation. It’s only slightly confusing but hopefully with some hands on the instructions will become more clear.

Joel moves to the next door down, and you settle in at the one beside that. Joel shows you how to install at a slow pace, making sure to go step by step with you. He does this at the next doggy door, and a few more before weaning you off instruction and trusting you to do it by yourself. It’s not long before you make it to the other side, installing the other five doggy doors. You do the last two yourself, Joel keeping a watchful eye over your shoulder.

Once you’re done, it’s evening. The sun is just barely starting to set. A few of the dogs have begun to venture outside to check out the new fence, their new doors, and Joel. After a few hi’s to the dogs, you take Joel inside through a door for people located in the premises of the new fences. You help him collect and put away his tools, but you seem to get a little too confident with these newfound tools and the small saw slips in your grasp and cuts into your first two fingers. You yelp and hiss, instantly grabbing your two injured fingers in the palm of your injured hand.

“What? What?,” Joel’s instantly concerned, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you. “What happened?”

He zeros in on your fingers grasped in your hands and gently cups your hands in his.

“It-It’s fine, Joel. Really,” You tell him. “I guess I just wasn’t holding the saw tight enough and it slipped.”

“Let me see it,” Joel demands softly.

“Joel, really,” You pull your hands away slightly. “It’s okay. I can fix it up myself.”

“Just let me see it,” Joel demands again.

You look at his face full of concern and give in, resting your hands in his grasp. You release your fingers from your grasp and let them fall victim to Joel’s eyes. The man gently straightens your fingers with his and look at the cuts on your fingerpads, titling your hand from side to side.

Joel hums, “Come back to my place. I got the stuff to fix you up.”

“I can just do it at my house,” You try to reason with the taller man, who make your hands look like half the size they really are in his.

“Do you have rubbing alcohol?” He asks and you shake your head. “Bandages?” Another head shake from you. “Well, I’ve got those at my place, so just come back with Ellie and I and I’ll get you fixed up before dinner.”

“But-“ You start.

“It’s better than you running around with bleeding fingers trying to get the supplies yourself,” Joel tells you, giving you an intense gaze.

You give in, “Fine.”

Joel nods, shucking the tool bag onto his shoulders and calling Ellie in from outside, as she joined you and stayed out to play with the dogs. He finally let you have your hands back when he led the way out the barn and to his house.

“What’s he so tense about?” Ellie asks, walking beside you.

“I cut myself on the saw,” You show her.

“Oh, well it’s not that bad,” Ellie waved Joel’s tenseness off. “He shouldn’t be that worried. Joel’s had so much worse!”

You don’t have too much time to look around Joel and Ellie’s house before Joel is ushering you off to the kitchen and asking Ellie to put the tool bag away. She does, marching off down the halls.

Joel stands you both over the sink, running the water until it’s decently warm. He helps wash your fingers off until the cuts are visible. They’re not too bad, but too deep to be left alone. Joel reaches up into a cabinet beside the sink and grabs some rubbing alcohol and some bandaids. You hiss when he pours the rubbing alcohol over the cuts, the stinging causing you to pull away on instinct. Joel gives you a minute before putting your fingers back under the water to wash away any more debris and any remaining alcohol. He turns the sink off and dabs the areas dry with a thin rag. Joel puts the bandaids on himself, he doesn’t give you a choice to try and put them on yourself. Once satisfied with his work, Joel finally lets you have your hand to yourself.

“Keep the bandaids on for a few days,” He tells you. “Either you can let them fall off or take them off when you’re ready. But if the cuts are still not healed when the bandaids come off, feel free to stop by and come grab some more.”

“Okay,” You nod, rubbing your good fingers against your injured ones, feeling the bumping texture of the bandaid. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Joel nods.

Joel looks at you for a moment. You watch as his eyes dart from here to there. But he gets to look for only a moment before the front door is thrusted open. In comes Debby.

“Joel!” She calls into the house, looking ahead. “Sorry for stopping in like this, but I figured it’s dinner time and you’d want to know! And we can like totally walk there together if you’re. . . . ready. .”

Debby trails off at the end of her sentence as she makes eye contact with the pair of you. She assesses the situation before speaking.

“Y/n? What are you going her?” Her tone is a nice balance between friendly and surprised, but her eyes scream confusion and threat.

“I got hurt working today and Joel fixed me up,” You tell her.

“Oh! Are you okay?” Debby slams the front door shut, rattling some little figurines on a nearby table.

She grabs your fingers a bit roughly, making you wince, and looks them over.

“He fixed you right up, didn’t he?” Debby voiced is pitched. She looks at Joel, “Didn’t you, Joel?” She almost speaks to him like a puppy that’s done something cute.

Joel nods, “I offered.” His voice is monotone and he turns to put away the medical stuff, and throw away the bandaid wrappings.

“Well, girl!” Debby turns to you. “Don’t be such a klutz next time, yeah?”

“Umm,” You hesitate. “Yeah.”

Debby is tense. Almost as if she’s taking you being in Joel’s house as a threat to her crush on the man.

Ellie comes stomping down the hallway. She’s easy to hear when the kitchen has gone quiet. She calls out to Joel.

“I’m hungry, man!” She expressed. “When are we going to eat?”

She turns the corner and her raised eyebrows fall when she see the additional person in the kitchen. Ellie huffs, looking at Joel with an irritated expression. Joel gives the hint of one back.

“We can head out now,” Joel says.

“Good!” Ellie marches on to the front door and outside. She clobbers down the steps, “I’m so hungry!!”

You three adults trail after her. Joel turns on his porch light and shuts the front door. Joel takes big steps to catch up to his advancing daughter, urging her to slow down a bit.

Debby is uncharacteristically tense at dinner. Her chatter doesn't stop, but the edge to her tone gives her away. The table either doesn't notice or doesn't care. It's whatever to you, honestly. You're too focused on eating dinner, and figuring out how to hold a fork with three fingers.

"What happened there?" Tommy asks you during a break in Debby's dinner talk.

"Work accident," You tell Tommy after swallowing a bite of tonight's dinner. "One of the small saws slipped through my hand when I was helping Joel put tools away."

"It's hard to work in the cold," Tommy nods. "Your hands go numb and stuff. You got gloves for next time?"

You shake your head no.

"I can go by and get you some," Maria offers. "And some antibiotics, just in case."

"Oh thanks!" You thank Maria.

"I can drop them off at the barn if that works," Maria says.

"That works," You tell her. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You find the gloves the next morning, sitting atop a stool that you use sometimes. You pull them on and get to work that day, training the dogs to go outside for potty instead of inside. You check up on your pregnant dog, which you've named "Mama." She doing good and growing steadily day by day. The only odd thing in the bunch is a dog at the end, that you've named "Mick" has got a case of the sniffles. You'll have to keep an eye on him.

After your little accident, the days go on. You have meals with the Miller family, which has lead to you and Ellie growing closer. She stops by the barn every once in a while, mostly to come play with the dogs and horses though. Debby and you grow closer as well, once you move past the tenseness she feels when she thinks you and Joel stand a little too close for her comfort. It's whatever to you, you're not entirely bothered by it. Maria and the Miller boys stop by too, to check in and stuff (Joel's excuse). Joel stops by a bit more than the couple though, just to see how the wood work is hanging, he says.

Mick, the skinny black mutt at the end of the row of kennels on the left, seems to get worse as the days go on. His sniffles and runny nose evolve into coughs, weakness, and a lack of eating. You get worried and run him to Jackson's local vet. The doctor says he's run into some type of winter cold. To her, it seems he's coming down from the worst of it. The vet gives you a small bag of this white powdery stuff and tells you to mix it in with his food and water. You follow orders, and give Mick another blanket.

There's one day, after dinner while you were checking on the dogs before you went home, that Mick doesn't get up. He hasn't really eaten since breakfast. You pet him, feeling his ears and they're burning hot. You worry and pace for a small bit, wondering what to do. You decide the best thing for Mick, and yourself, is to stay with him that night. You’re lucky that you wore some thicker clothes today, it’s supposed to be a cold one tonight. Despite Mick’s heat, he’s shivering. You pile up some blankets in the kennel and get settled for the night. All the lights in the barn are off, the only light now is coming from the heat lamps that hang low from the ceiling. You curl you and Mick into a corner. You sit up so Mick can lay on your lap. It’s uncomfortable but you fall asleep anyway.

You’re roused awake by someone calling your name. You think you’re dreaming until your name is called again. You blink open your eyes and see a figure crouched in front of you, resting a hand on your leg.

It’s Joel.

There concern written on his face, and perhaps a little bit of confusion.

“What are you doing here?” Joel asks in a hushed voice.

“Mick’s sick,” You voice is raspy with sleep and lack of water.

You palm Mick’s head, feeling around his fur. His heated ears have cooled considerably. Maybe he’s getting better.

Joel huffs, you’re not sure what for.

“What are you doing here?” You asks back, a little more awake now.

“Well your porch light wasn’t on and- and Ellie said you hadn’t come home yet,” Joel explains.

“What time is it?” You asks again. There’s not windows here to look out of to guesstimate the time.

“Awhile after midnight,” Joel answers. “The town’s already gone to sleep.”

“And why didn’t you,” You press.

Joel hesitates, “I. . . I couldn’t sleep.”

You hum in response.

“You mind if I stay with you?” Joel asks.

“Sure,” You nod.

Joel situations himself beside you, your shoulders are barely pressed against each other.

“It’s. . supposed to be cold tonight,” Joel notes.

“You want a blanket?” You ask, thinking that he’s implying that he’s cold.

“Sure,” Joel says.

He takes the one you hand him and situates it on top of himself.

Due to your tiredness, you fall back asleep rather quickly, enveloped in the warmth of the dog on your lap and the man on your side. Unbeknownst to you, when you do fall into a good sleep, your head falls to rest on Joel’s broad shoulder.

Joel’s a little tense at first, but when the heat from you and the heat lamp above soak into his clothes, he’s dozing right off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake by yourself. You're so so warm, but your body hurts so so bad. You rub the possibly bluriness from your eyes before opening them. The room is lit from the plastic doggy door. It's not too bright out, so either the sun isn't up all the way or it's super cloudy outside. As you wake up more, you realize the position your in.

Somehow, someway, you've made your way under Joel's arm and you're resting your head on his upper chest. Mick has moved as well, from your lap to Joel's. He looks comfy, passed out.

You reach over and pet Mick's head, massaging his ears. They've cooled back down to a regular temperature. Maybe all Mick needed was some company for a night. You sigh and settle back down. You close your eyes for a moment before you hear footsteps and someone clearing their throat. You open your eyes again and see Ellie standing in front of the kennel.

"So this is where Joel ran off to in the middle of the night?" Ellie whispered, an amused expression on her face.

"I thought you knew where Joel was," You asked, only a little confused.

"Oh no," Ellie shakes her head. "He ran off in the middle of the night. Something about going to the barn to check on something. I guess you were that something."

"I guess," You cast a glimpse at Joel. Since when did he become so worrisome, especially towards you. "What time is it?"

"Breakfast time," Ellie answered, "Which is why I stopped by here."

Ellie turned her attention towards Joel and raised her voice from a whisper, "Joel! Joel! It's like way past your morning alarm!"

Joel only groans in response. He stretches, raising his arms above his head. When he puts his arms back down, Joel traps you back against his oh so warm body. But he jumps when he feels you under him.

"Sorry. . 'bout that," Joel apolgizes, putting his arms down in front of him.

"It's alright," You tell him.

"So awkward," Ellie mumbles, kicking the dirt floor of the barn.

Joel moves to get up, but a furry body prevents him from doing so.

Mick shuffles and wakes from his slumber. Without picking up his head, he looks back at the two of you and wags his tail. He already looks so much better.

"You feeling better, boy?" You ask him, petting his head.

His sniffs your hand, and licks it.

"'cuse me, kid," Joel pats Mick on the head and shifts his legs little by little until Mick lifts his head. He gets up slowly, groaning as he uses his knees as leverage to get up from the dirt floor.

You follow suit, groaning as well. You'll be regretting sleeping in a dirt floor today. You do your best to stretch out your condensed muscles.

Joel limps and wobbles a little bit as he makes his way out of the kennel and to Ellie.

"That's what you get for sleeping on a dirt floor, man," Ellie shoves Joel lightly.

While the two bicker, you check up on Mick. He's sitting up now, wagging his tail while doing his best to give you a tired little smile. He looks so much better now! Especially with the lack of sniffling and coughing.

After a few minutes of petting Mick, you turn towards the bickering father and daughter, "You don't mind if I feed the dogs real quick before breakfast, do you?"

"Not at all," Joel says.

"Can I help?" Ellie asks excitedly.

"Sure!" You say.

You tell her to gather the bowls from the kennels on the right while you gather the bowls from the kennels on the left. You fill the bowls and split the ten bowls between you two again to deliver them to the dogs. After feeding, you also refill their water bowls. Soon enough, the dogs are chowing down on their food and you three head off to the mess hall.

It's cold out, colder than when you arrived at Jackson. It seems the worst of winter is making it's way up and into the mountains. You're glad to get into the warm mess hall as soon as possible.

Once you three get settled and start eating and conversating with the rest of your group, a shadow at the corner of your eye causes you to turn to your right.

A young woman stands to your right, looking a little nervous as she twiddles her fingers.

"You work at the kennels, right?" She asks.

"I do," You nod. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was just wondering if any dogs are available for adoption," The woman explains. "I just feel bad 'cause it's getting colder out now."

"I'd say the dogs are ready for adoption," You tell her. "You can come by the barn after breakfast to come check the dogs out."

"Oh thank you!" She smiles. "I'll see you after breakfast!!"

The young woman practically skips back to her table, excitedly telling her group of friends her plans for the afternoon.

Breakfast goes by unexcitedly. The only relatively interesting news that is that Joel will be going out on patrol today, but that's about it.

The Millers, Debby, and you go your separate ways after dinner. You trot in the direction of the barn, meeting the lady from the beginning of breakfast there. She shows up soon after you, introducing herself as Mary. Mary brings along a friend as well, a woman around her age named Saturn.

You introduce the duo to the resident dogs, telling them about their personalities and any mishaps they've had while at the kennel.

Mary takes a shibu and Saturn takes a chow. As a form of payment, they exchange some homemade stuff that they made in their free time, like soaps and a wood carved duck. You give the ladies their dogs' favorite blankets and bid them goodbye.

As soon as you're doing cleaning up the empty kennels, a few more people stop by that are interesting in adopting some dogs as well. Soon enough, you have a little gathering of people in the room. By the afternoon, all dogs except Mama, your resident pregnant german shepherd. Someone even adopted Mick, even though he was recently sick. You told Mick's owner what the vet told you about his bag of medicine. The owner reassured you that Mick was in good hands.

It was quiet in the room now. You cleaned up slowly, folding blankets and stacking food and water bowls. You sighed, resting on the counter that sat against the right wall and looked at Mama.

"Well, looks like it me and you now, girl," You told her.

She wagged her tail in response.

You paused for a few moments, thinking. You figured that bringing Mama to your house, instead of leaving her here, wouldn't be so bad.

"You wanna come home with me?" You asked Mama, opening her kennel door.

In response, she got up and hobbled her way over to you.

You figured that was a yes, and you gathered up her blankets and food bowls. You led the way through the barn, letting Mama either stop for a sniff or pause for a break. She was about as big as a hippo now, and no doubt was she about to pop any day now.

You two slowly made your way back to your house, and you get Mama settled in the downstairs bedroom with all her blankets. For now, you place her food and water bowl in the kitchen.

It's afternoon by the time you've settled you and Mama at home. You're not sure what to do now that you don't have ten dogs to take care of. Maybe you'd eat lunch or something. It's a bit late for lunch, but that means you missed the lunch rush. You pat Mama on the head and tell her you’re off for lunch. She's rested up on the couch and she makes no sign to move from her spot on the couch as you open the front door.

You walk by the barn on your way to the mess hall and see Ellie making her way from the barn. She looks a little dejected before she see you, and then she lights right back up. The girl trots right over to you, bumping into your shoulder when she’s close enough.

“Whatcha up to, kid?” You ask.

"Well, Joel's on patrol and the kids here and doing something totally lame so.. I was looking for you and saw all the dogs were gone," Ellie kicked some dirt at the end of her explanation, hiding her dejection.

"Oh sorry kid," you apologized. "Yeah, most the dogs got adopted out today. The only dog that didn't was Mama, the pregnant one."

"Where is she?" Ellie asked. "She's not in the barn or outside."

"I actually brought her home," You told Ellie. "I didn't think it was fair to leave her there herself, especially since she's already so close to having her puppies."

"Oh is she really?" Ellie looked up at you, surprised.

"I know!" You acknowledge her surprise. "It doesn't feel like that much time has passed but I guess it has."

Ellie nodded.

"Well.. I am going to the mess hall to get some lunch if you'd like to join," You offered.

"Sure!" Ellie took your offer and you two were off to the mess hall.

Since you two were taking a late lunch, there were very few people in the mess hall. Only a few of the kitchen staff and a few people eating late lunch were seen in the mess hall.

You and Ellie decided to sit at your regular table but across from each other. It was nice to have someone sit across from you for once, especially someone so pleasant to talk to. Ellie was so pleasant to talk to that you two accidentally had stayed until evening, when the early eaters started trickling in. In a decision to make room for the early dinner crowd, you and Ellie had decided to go and walk around town. There was a slight chill to the air, but nothing too bad. The lack of a breeze made the early evening air easier to handle.

Eventually, you two had made your way back to your house. Ellie had beelined for Mama, who hadn't moved from her spot on the couch. You gotten the three of you settled in your living room with blankets and warm drinks. You and Ellie got to know each other more and you learned she wasn't originally from Jackson like you thought, but from the east coast. In return, you told her where you came from. You two ended up bonding over the struggles of the world outside of Jackson.

Around mid-conversation, a frantic knocking was heard from your front door. You paused and turned, glancing over at Ellie who looked as confused as you did. You got up and opened your front door caustiously.

A sobbing and hyperventilating Debby. She practically burst through your partially opened front door and into your arms. You barely caught her as you stumbled back. She was mumbling incoherently through her sobs and hiccups.

"What?" You asked, trying to pry the sobbing woman from your arms.

"Joel's hurt!!" Debby yelled through her tears.

Panic and alarm hit you. You looked and Ellie to see the same emotions mirrored onto her face. She shucked on her jacket and was out the door before you could get Debby up onto her feet. You shoved Debby out and mumbled a "be back" to Mama before shutting your front door and attempting to catch up to a sprinting Ellie.

Ellie had burst through Jackson's infirmary before you got there, calling out for her dad. You and Debby caught up to her. You stood behind Ellie, looking for Joel while Debby clung to your jacket.

A sob tore from Debby's throat and she lunged forward, leaving you and Ellie behind.

Predicting the distraught woman's path, you spotted Joel settled in a back corner. There was blood on his face and his right eye was squinty. His clothes and hair were disheveled, splattered with blood. Currently, his hands were being cleaned up and bandaged. Whoever he got in a fight with, neither of the opponents came out pretty.

You nudged Ellie and led her quickly and quietly from the infirmary to her dad. Once there, Debby was all over him. Sobbing and pawing at the injured man. Joel winced at her ministration, looking tired and irritated.

"Ma'am. Ma'am," One of the nurses called attention to Debby. "You're getting in the way of his treatment. Please back away."

The nurse's words had no affect, and Debby ended up having to be pulled away from Joel and calmed down on another cot nearby.

You decided to let Debby have some time to herself and stay here with Ellie in case she needed any support.

Ellie stood there nervously, not wanting to get in the way of the nurses but also wanted to be next to Joel.

"He'll be okay," Ellie mumbled to herself. "He's been through so much worse."

You pat Ellie on her shoulder, comforting her the best you could in the situation.

At the mumbling, Joel looked up and made eye contact with Ellie. He adjusted on the cot and pat the spot beside him. Ellie sat down beside Joel, practically pressed up against him.

"What happened?" Ellie asked.

“Just some raiders that ambushed us over by the ridge,” Joel explained.

He winced when the nurse dabbed at the cut above Joel’s right eye, as she had finished tending to his hands.

You glanced down at his hands. They were relaxed at the moment. There were some cuts and splotches of bruises littered across the peak of Joel’s knuckles. Joel’s left hand was bandaged from the knuckles and down around his wrist. He must’ve gotten really hurt on that hand.

“Well, you fucked them up pretty good, right?” Ellie asked, her tone indicating that she was trying to lighten the mood a little.

“ ‘course,” Joel chuckled, patting Ellie on the knee.

Two bodies joined you on one side. You looked over to see Maria and Tommy. They both looked over at Debby before turning their attention to Joel.

“What’s up with her?” Tommy asked you, confusion on his face.

“No idea,” You shrugged.

You noticed a black eye forming under Tommy’s left, mirroring Joel’s squinty right eye.

“You on patrol too?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Joel seemed to have gotten the worst of it compared to me.”

You nodded.

“He’s tough though,” Maria noted, switching her attention from Joel to you. “I heard you had a busy day at the kennels. How many dogs got adopted?”

“All but one,” You answered.

“Oh really?” Tommy looked surprised. “I figured they all would’ve gone.”

“The only one that didn’t go was the pregnant one,” You told him. “But I brought her home cause it didn’t feel fair to leave her up there all by herself.”

“She didn’t give birth yet?” Maria asked.

“Nope,” You said. “Any day now though.”

Maria nodded.

The nurse stood from her stool and worked on gathering her medical supplies, “All fixed up, Miller. Take it easy for a few days.”

“I’ll try,” Joel responded.

He groaned as he got up. The man massaged the back of his neck with a hand, squinting in discomfort. Joel eyed the three of you, no readable emotion in his eyes.

“I need a drink,” Joel groaned.

“I bet you do,” Tommy chuckled.

“You wanna join?” The older Miller brother switched his attention to you.

“Awe what?!” Ellie exclaimed. “Then who am I gonna hang out with?”

“Go hang out with that Dina girl,” Joel reasoned. “You seem to like her a lot.”

Ellie scoffed, her cheeks turning just the slightest of pinks, “I guess..”

“I’ll be okay, kid,” Joel told his kid.

“Plus, it’s about time we get this hermit out her shell,” Tommy joked, bumping your shoulder with his fist.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Those dogs loved me.”

“ ‘course,” Tommy shrugged.

The younger Miller lead the way out of the infirmary and into the cold winter air.

The sun was just a few feet above the horizon line now, painting the sky in oranges and pinks. A few people were out and about, but due to the cold weather slowly making its way over the mountains there weren’t many.

Once you’d reached the bar, called Tipsy Bison, Joel told Ellie to scamper off (in his grumpy, loving way) before leading the five of you into the bar. Because of course once Debby had seen Joel up and walking, she had attached herself to his hip and snuggled up to him all the way to the bar. You’d decided to hang back with Tommy and Maria to avoid awkwardness.

Being quite early at the bar had its quirks apparently. You’d all gotten chairs at the bar-top right next to each other. In a way to for you not to feel left out, you sat between the Miller brothers. You talked primarily with Tommy and Maria, as Joel seemed only focused on drinking at the moment.

As the sun set and more people trickled in, the five of you moved to a table near the outer circle and away from the crowd. With the table being circular, there was a bit more of an even option to talk to everyone. Most talk was about the town’s going ons and how the patrol went. You chipped in a couple times, but not too much. You’d spent these past few months in the barn and the mess hall, so you had no interesting news to share with the group.

Slowly, music had started from a jukebox in the corner of the bar and as people started dancing, Tommy and Maria had excused themselves and disappeared into the crowd. This left you with Debby and Joel, which wouldn’t have been awkward if it weren’t for Debby’s one-sided flirting towards a very tired-looking Joel.

You excused yourself and headed off towards the bar to get another drink.

It was louder over by the bartop compared to your little corner near the back of the barn. Thankfully, you ordered your drink without much hassle. You waited patiently, standing with your forearms resting on the counter and tapping your fingers against the wood along with the music. You felt a body join you on your left, but thought nothing of it until they started talking.

“You looking for someone to dance with?”

A tall blond man stood on your left, leaning against the counter with one arm. He already held a drink in his hand. His blue eyes looked you up and down, only briefly making eye contact.

“No,” You observed him briefly, before looking ahead at the bar again.

“Awe.. Why not?” The man sighed, setting a hand on your upper arm. “You got something better to do?”

You only looked at the blond man. After a few heartbeats went by, you tried to pull your arm away from the unknown man but to no avail. This man kept a rather tight grip on your upper arm.

“Well?” The man asks.

“Can you let me go please?” You try to pull your arm away with a bit more force this time.

“Why?” The blond man only tightened his grip. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Before you could respond, you could feel an overbearing presence over your shoulder. You didn’t have a chance to look at the person before they spoke.

“Is there a problem here?” Joel spoke from behind you.

When the blond man made eye contact with Joel, he let go of your arm so fast that you almost thought something burned him. His previously smirky expression developed into one of panic and fear. The man scooted back from you a bit.

“No-nothing for you to worry about, Joel,” The man seemed to have a bit of confidence still in him as he tried to tell Joel off.

“Go scamper off, kid,” Joel brushed the comment aside. “Go bother someone who wants to be bothered.”

The blond man huffed and left your side, shoulder-checking Joel before stalking off into the crowd. You watched the man walk off before Joel joined you at the bar top counter.

“You alright?” He asked, ordering his own drink when a bartender came by.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I’m more weirded out than anything.”

Joel nodded. He set a soft hand on your upper arm, patting it once or twice while you waited for your drinks.

After getting your drinks, you and Joel went back to your table.

Debby had left and you couldn’t see her anywhere in the crowd. You assumed she went off into the crowd after Joel went to get another drink for himself. You weren’t worried too much. Your friend has lived in Jackson longer than you, so you trusted that she knew her way around town.

“So,” Joel took a sip of his drink. “Got anything going on for the rest of the night?”

“Umm.. Probably just gonna go home, check on Mama, and go to bed,” You told him. “Not the most excited.”

“You mind if I. . joined you? If that’s not a problem,” Joel took another sip from his drink, as if hiding behind the glass.

"Not at all," You smiled.

Joel's sudden shyness was unlike him, as was the pink tint to his cheeks. Why? Was it hot in here? You didn't think so. You shrugged his reaction off, not thinking anything about it.

After sipping down your drink, you and Joel left Tipsy Bison and headed off to your house. It was dark out now, and much colder than today. Not many people were on the streets either, not unusual for a cold winter night in Jackson. After your walk through town, you came up onto your porch. You noticed a medium-sized black lump on your porch. You didn't turn your porch on before you left in the late afternoon, so it was hard to tell what was on your porch.

As you came closer, the black lump lifted up it's head. It was a dog. The dog wagged it's tail as you came closer. Joel hung back a bit as you stepped up onto your porch. In the full moon light, you could see the black dog was Mick! He must've ran away from home and found your house!

"It's just Mick," You turned and told Joel. "He must've gotten out from his owner's house earlier."

"Ah," Joel joined you up on the porch and gave the black dog a few pats on the head. "Okay."

You opened your front door and welcomed Joel and Mick into your house. You told Joel to make himself comfortable.

As you hung up your jacket onto the hooks on the wall by your door, you noticed the lack of Mama's greeting as you came inside. You told Joel you'll be right back, you're just going to check up on your dog. You made your way into the downstairs bedroom and was greeted by small yaps and the thump of a wagging tail. You turned the light on and saw Mama laying in a nest of blankets with three very tiny bodies nestled against her belly.

"Oh!" You exclaimed.

You joined Mama on the floor, checking the new puppies. They weren't wet and all were breathing fine. You concluded that Mama must have given birth sometime early into your night out. You gave your dog a couple pats on the head and moved her water bowl closer to her so she could take a drink.

The click-clack of claws and the thumping of boots made you turn around.

Joel and Mick stood in the doorway. Upon the sight of Mama, Mick came in and gave Mama a couple licks on the head before settling down beside her. Joel still stood there, observing the situation.

"You alright in here?" He asked. "Thought I heard you say something?"

"I was just surprised that Mama gave birth already," You told Joel, settling down into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Would you like to come see?"

"Sure," Joel was quick to come settle down beside you, letting Mama sniff his hand before giving her some well-deserved pets on the head.

You watched him interact with the dogs, surprised to see Joel relax so quickly in the presence of animals. It was almost like you weren't in the room with him anymore. Almost.

Joel sat up a bit, looking at you now, "So how are those fingers?"

You brought your hand up to look at your injured fingers, "They're not too bad. Still a little tender." You looked up at Joel. "How's your face?"

"Sore," Joel responded, smiling a bit.

"Too bad I couldn't be the one to fix you up," You sighed a little. "To repay the favor."

"Next time," Joel said.

"Next time?" You questioned, surprised. "I hope next time is just a little scratch and not a spilt eyebrow."

Joel only laughed at you.

You two spent the rest of the night sitting in the room with the dogs and getting to know each other a little more. Joel was a complicated, many-layered man who seemed to have very few soft spots. You were happy to be friends with Joel, but something deep down was tempting to see if you could be more.

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

A few weeks, that’s what he said it would take to dismantle the 1st Generation. And guess what? That’s exactly how it turned out.

Rumours, or was it the truth? Spread like wildfire across the nation. Reports of fires breaking out in one city after another, each covered up as accidents. But you knew what was really brewing beneath the embers. The plan for the four crews was slowly coming to fruition. Each of you ramping up your efforts, playing your part.

One sigh here, one sigh there.

A part of you, buried deep down and silenced long ago, had begun to stir. Survival has always been more important than principles. Morals didn’t put food on the table. Still, now that you had a semblance of stability, ironically, thanks to the illegal work, you couldn’t help but second-guess everything.

Looking at Gun and Goo, it felt like they genuinely enjoyed this. Eugene… there was something more to him. Something unreadable. And James? God knows where he disappeared to. No calls, no texts. You didn’t even notice the absence until Goo pointed it out.

Do you even know what your prince charming’s been up to?

Ugh. He’s no prince charming, more like a rat. Still, you brush it off.

Then came the news: kings getting mutilated across regions. It was part of the plan, not to kill, but to destroy. Still, the destruction hit differently when you lived it.

Your world was a stark contrast, school during the day, hunting people at night, extracting money illegally. The plan targeting minors made cruel sense. Gun, Goo, James, and you, soon you'd all be legal adults, and the laws wouldn’t be as lenient. So the time to let things run riot was now.

But as the days passed, as your final year of high school approached, the cracks began to show. You started to wonder what life would’ve been like if you’d never gotten into this. A stable life. Normalcy. Just worrying about exams instead of whether someone would try to kill you, or if you’d have to kill first.

You’d made a lot of money. But at what cost?

At one point, Gun accused you of going soft, said you’d grown complacent because you thought what was happening to the crew heads was wrong.

You glared at him.

He just shrugged. “Facts,” he said.

Facts they were.

“I’m back, and this is how you treat me?” James leaned against the classroom door, smirking like he always did.

You’d come to school early for some peace and reflection. When your parents were around, they always said studying was the true path to success. And while making money this way had proven them wrong. Sometimes, you still wished for a life where your biggest worry was a math test.

So, yes, seeing James made you happy. But he’d also ruined your quiet moment.

“Oh? Did you want me to jump into your arms or something?” you snapped.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” he said, lollipop dangling from his lips.

But something about him had changed. His posture, his presence , less smug arrogance, more real confidence.

The legend was back.

“You’ve been given some… interesting nicknames,” you remarked.

“Like what?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Legend. One-Man Circle. Nightmare. The words would sound different coming from you. And maybe that’s why he wanted to hear them.

“James Lee, Clown of the 1st Generation,” you said with an overly innocent expression.

You expected a smart retort, but instead, he pinned you against the wall.

Not entirely unexpected. But still surprising.

He tilted your chin up with one hand, the other braced against the wall. “Say the real one.”

“James Lee. The Butcher of the 1st Generation,” you replied, no teasing tone, just flat and factual.

“Butcher? I simply maimed them,” he said casually.

“Did you have to? Ever thought about how it’d feel if someone took your finger? Your eyes?”

You knew what he had planned. He’d told you before. Charles Choi had confirmed it.

“They’d have to be strong enough to even try,” he shrugged.

You pushed him aside. “And what if they do become strong? What then?”

“That day’s never coming,” he said, voice dropping, serious in a way you rarely saw. Like the time he took care of you during your fever. Was this pride? Ego? Or was it sincerity? You couldn’t tell. The lines blurred with him.

“We’re moving to Seoul soon,” he added.

“I know.”

“Oh? So you seem to know a lot.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Yeah, I know when someone’s heading toward monstrosity and when they’re not.”

“How insightful. But tell me, why didn’t you notice this ‘monstrosity’ before?” he countered.

“What you did was freakish. Disgusting. Despicable. Better to kill them.”

“I saved them from mandatory military service,” he muttered. “And disgusting? Thanks, I’d rather be disgusting than have another murder charge.”

You had no comeback. Your pride wouldn’t let you admit that he had a point. You were being hypocritical. A part of you was worried about those kings. But a selfish part of you had been more concerned about him. About how many enemies he was making. He hadn’t just taken their limbs, he’d taken their pride, dignity, their very sense of self.

As you turned to walk away, he suddenly appeared in front of you. Faster than before.

You tried to sidestep, but he grabbed both your hands.

“No matter how disgusting, how pathetic, we are going to Seoul together,” he declared.

“And like I have a choice,” you snapped back.

He grabbed your hand and dragged you into the empty classroom. You struggled free and took a seat at the far end.

He let you be, pulling out a book and giving you dramatic side-eyes from across the room.

It’s been so long, and the first thing we do is fight, he thought. What the hell were you even trying to tell him?

His palms were sweaty.

“Did you have breakfast?” you suddenly shouted.

He whipped his head around. For a second, you thought he was glaring. But then, lopsided grin.

You didn’t look at him. “I asked if you had breakfast. Not if you want to sit with me.”

He pulled a chair anyway and sat in front of your desk.

“If you’re so concerned, feed me yourself,” he said, resting his head forward in invitation. A silent request for you to massage his scalp.

“You have hands.”

"The food tastes better when you feed me," he replied.

You sighed and gave in. After feeding him, he laid his head on your lap, took your hand, and placed it on his head.

You tried to pull away, but still ran your fingers through his messy red locks. They were rougher than before.

He sighed, content, quiet.

“Excuse me, when’s the apology coming?” you asked.

“I was waiting for you. But shut up, don’t ruin the moment.”

“I’m not apologizing. I’d rather fight Gun. I wasn’t completely wrong, you know.”

“Keep telling yourself that. And no....you’re not fighting Gun. He’s battle-horny.”

He nuzzled closer. Sleep tugged at him.

“If you care that much, do me a favor, take care of yourself too,” you said softly.

That made him sit up. He looked you in the eyes.

“I told you before, and I’ll tell you again, nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“It’s not just about surviving. What about the future? Do you plan to keep fighting forever?”

He didn’t know. All he knew was that he’d do whatever it took to see the plan through.

“James?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever thought about the future?”

“Yes. One with you.”

You turned red. Same color as his hair. He lived for this.

“I meant life. Ambitions. Goals.”

“What kind of sexism is this? Saying I want a future with you doesn’t make it any less valuable.”

Typical James. Of course he’d find a way to twist your words.

But then, for once, he looked serious. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, sign of a new day, a new beginning, he thought,whatever future awaited, he hoped you’ll be there.

And just as he leaned in to kiss you...

BANG!

The classroom door slammed open. You sprang away from him.

“MASTER JAMES, WE WELCOME YOU!” his fanboys shouted in unison, holding a giant banner.

You bolted from the room.

James Lee: The national legend, overachiever, and peak still didn’t know what his future held.

But you, strategist, another prodigy in the making, you already knew what you wanted. And it had nothing to do with this mess.

[ur-mousey]

Benzo-Addict ~

- Yandere! Jeffery x F! Reader -

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

Part One, Part Two

summary Drugs have always been your friend. A source of courage and tonight's no different. Now it's time to fuck a nerd. Hope your BF understands. 1.7k

warning mature, smut, non-con, hostage situation, dry humping.

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

** Choices **

There are NO MORE choices to choose from.

You are shit outta luck, now wear those kitten ears and purr real good.

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

You blurringly watched ahead. A TV buzzed with images of red, blue, and clover green. You didn't feel luck at all. Jeffery kept you stable on his inner thigh, carding through knots twisted amongst your hair. You listened past his singing to the crickets beyond the attic crawl space, where cars whirled by, and left without hearing your pleas. Cody laid bleeding out on the creaky wooden slates. One thought persisted, he would die here. You talked him through it as best as you could, but in a twist of fate, you wished him dead. He'd be better off that way.

The rusted odor was acidic to your nostrils and filled the space like a migraine after a bender. All you could do was to constrict your throat. You were afraid that you'd double over at the sight. It's game over. As if you could save anyone? Much less yourself. Time to roll the credits. And spoiler, you'll remain fucked into death on top of a Hatsune Miku body pillow.

What the fuck were you supposed to do? What exactly could you have done differently? Go back in time and do what? Not be nice?

You smoothed snot into the wrist of your cardigan. The answer was a simple one. It stared you plain in the face, and it taunted you with the ferocity of the North Seas. You were the issue. Everything you did, all who you've interacted with, culminated into a thick poison settling in your skin. You wondered if you were destined for this - a life dictated by god where autonomy may be gifted or provoked.

And if you were to see Jeffery as that god, he had chosen to take you in as his rascal stray kitten. There will be no more choices afforded to you besides those he'll offer. Either to obey or not to obey. To crawl or to not be afforded the chance to ever walk again.

You were on the cusp of that new version of normalcy, having started with whom you placed the blame on. Jefferey directed it at Cody, as did Cody directed it at Jeffery. They were both wrong.

This was your fault. Jeffery showed you how easy it was to make you disappear. He cleaned fast that first night, ten days ago. You wouldn't have realized a stranger in the dark. He packed clothing for Cody and you, alongside sentimental items you'd fail to leave behind. He took a handful of Percs for the road and set up a snorting station of crushed Valium in the middle of your coffee table.

Jeffery had ushered you over by your biceps. He urged you to snort what you could of the powder. "Only a little, hun. He'll take the rest."

You wailed into your hands. Any and all protests were stumped in the pits of your belly. Drowsiness threatened to take you. But, your heart seemed to pound greatly outside of your body.

Jeffery whispered, "Please." He brought your head to his, forehead to forehead. "I promise, you'll sleep this all off. I love you. All I ask of you is to do this one thing to ensure our future."

"H-how?" Your voice sounded feral.

"You need to disappear. I'm setting the scene..." Jeffery brought your hands together. "If you aren't all mine, I can't stand it."

You gnawed on your lips, "How would this make me disappear?"

"I thought of many scenarios," Jeffery began, using his other hand to smooth flyaway strands from your face. His thumb rested upon your cupid's bow. "Most of them endited you for murder. But, I don't want people to think bad of you... So the plan is to-umm..." It seemed hard for him to set his words in order. He started once in stutters then he collapsed back against your boyfriend's bound leg. Jeffery basked in the silence.

Cody winced, flailing his limbs as best he could against the restraint. His muffled voice berated against your skull's cavity. Jeffery cleared his throat to begin anew. "Frankly... this world wouldn't miss druggie one," He slammed his fist hard into Cody's gut who began to wheeze while constricting in on himself as best he could. "Shut the fuck up! I told you if you attract the neighbors, I gut you. Now..."

Jeffery brought your head back to his. "You are druggie two. One and Two go missing. Then the cops assume these... 'lovers' fled together."

"And snorting Val?"

"You two were high off all the shit you took tonight. Friday nights are your weakness. The Valium is to cement the final hoora! of the night! Then I'll drive your car to the edge of town where there's no security, I'll withdraw money in his clothes, then dump him somewhere. And I get to have you! We can start our new lives with each other."

You blinked rapidly then slowed to the rhythm of your breaths. Were you ever breathing? "D-uuh Dump him... where exactly?"

"Anywhere. I don't know. I never disposed of a body. I'm doing this for you. You're my first. Will be... at least. After you, I won't be a vir- ah ah vir... virgin."

"Jeffery," You shuttered. "That's stupid."

"Which part? The virg-"

"No, not that. The dump his body somewhere -that part." You rubbed your eyes. You can't believe what you're about to do. "It would ruin all of this-" You waved your hand around. "If anyone finds the body."

Jeffery hummed, "Then what would you do?"

"Take him with us. That way you could think of a better solution. We could come up with something better!" You blamed the Percs. But it was all you leading at this moment. "I-uh don't know. We could chop him up or... or um."

What the fuck are you supposed to do? What exactly could you do to keep Cody alive? Fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck?

You gathered Jeffery's collar at the scruff of his neck. You huffed into the space between you before breaching the surface tension. His lips were chapped against yours, thin and twitched at first contact. Cody stomped furiously, swinging forward and back until he tipped over on his wrist. You watched his head crack down on the pavement.

"If no one cares about two druggies. Then, no one would care if I had fucked someone before high tailing it. Maybe you could convince the police that I had an affair. Cody found out, and then he murdered me outside of town in the dark spooky woods." You inhaled deep as you climbed Jeffery's knee. "You're right... he's a bastard."

You settled your fingertips on his neck, cupping his Adam's apple. "I want him to suffer. And he should see me enjoy our new life. Starting with me pleasing you."

Jeffery's eyes dart to your chest as you lean over him to glare at the nothingness behind. You were stalling. You felt too weak to run or to put up a fight. Morning would come eons from now, it seemed.

You had to keep him here until then.

~ ~ ~

Jeffery had sat enamored at your little performance. He kept his eye trained on your spasming body as you rocked faster into his leg. He'd known your druggie boy-toy trained you to drip at the gulp of a Perc, but he didn't expect to reap the benefits so soon. His brain fogged as the butterfly kisses you swept over his collarbone came up to his ear.

His mouth salivated at the faintest breath. He trembled as you bit his ear with tender care. Jeffery convinced himself of your love. This had to mean you loved him back. You had chosen him in the end over the waste of human parts. Your ex didn't use his eyes to watch anime nor did he jack off to big-breasted waifus. His dick had never spurt ropes of sperm into the air at watching a 2D woman leaking men's cum.

Not like Jeffery did. And all those nights felt like preparation for the day you saw him in his truest light. One which can now be actualized!

He would no longer be a virgin. Thanks to you.

Jeffery compared himself to Cody who had never had to imagine the subtle dips of a woman's hips as he did. He saw how the Baka would greedily smack your flesh. He knew that Baka had felt your pulsating entrance around his unsavory shaft. Jeffery wished to rid you of the phantom touch of your ex by burying his face deep into your pussy.

He felt rushed to gather its aroma on his palette. If only you would let him. Jeffery felt too afraid to string you to his whim when you chased pleasure so eagerly from his body.

He wondered if you would even want him to. He could try taking the reigns. Yet your lips slotted over Jeffery's like water over ice. He had to stifle a pitiful whine. His brain short-circuited at each pass of your tongue over his teeth. Jeffery's hand searched frantically the globes on your chest. He came to twiddle with your nipples.

You circled your hips to the beat of his thumb pressing down on your peaks. It was too good to be true. This must've been in a dream that he carded away in the depths of his depravity.

Your pussy mound molded over his thigh, wetting his jeans. What a sweet dream. Jeffery planned to relive the moment in all future sex encounters. He'll be in his late seventies, jacking off to the memory.

It has been hours since that moment came to pass. Jeffery caved to your sly demands. Cody lived another day. He knew you.

However, you'll soon realize that this was a part of the plan. Jeffery needed you to kill the piece of shit. How else would you move on if you painted him out to be the monster? Jeffery couldn't have you glorify the fucker in death. You would twist the truth in your sweet little head. All Cody's abuse, a symbol of his love that he's dead.

Hopefully, you finish the Baka off sooner rather than later. Jeffery had designed the attic with only you and him in mind.

Jeffery wiped your swollen cheeks. You were a princess adorned above your Sailor Moon duvet. He felt his cock swell with need at your peaceful yet grief-stricken face.

Three's a crowd.

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Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo! Decided not to do the cosplay idea. Maybe in another fic not related to this concept. Wrote the ending in the dead of night bc I would've put it off.

Part One, Part Two

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Tag list (y’all are depraved for wanting more)

@constellyations, @bladestits, @m1sscreep, @ilyquanxi, @opalineishere, @sakurashana

Will edit it later. Come back in 2 days, maybe I'll add an actual penetration scene. Or part 4, just smut, little plot. I get too into the plot thoooooo

[endearng]

;

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader Summary: You pull the trigger, sick of never having enough from him, just as he stops struggling to navigate in your sea. WC: 1.5k Warnings: mentions of the dilaudid arch, alcohol consumption, miscommunication, right person/wrong time trope, sorta unrequited love. A/N: hi hi hi! This one is based on 'Skinny Love', which was on repeat this week, so I decided to give this a go. Feedbacks are highly appreciated! <3 Masterlist

One day at a time.

Tonight, the walk home is excruciatingly long, even though it usually takes you less than five minutes to get there from the building you work at. As you stroll through the otherwise busy crowd, droplets of rain fall from the sky. It is not enough to make you want to run to shield yourself from it. It's bearable. It's welcome. It's around 7, which should give you a while to get home just in time to feel the creeping lonely silence of the apartment. You know there won't be anyone there, you know he won't be there. There will only be fragments of what you once were, or what you thought you would become.

Walking through the door, you drop your purse to the floor and pad around the space, not really knowing what to do. You have made up your mind, of course; this emotional distance and physical absence has never been worse from both sides. It's time to accept it for what it is and come to terms that, no matter how much you wish for it, things can never be different. You sit on the couch, turning on the TV, only for it to be static, producing a stable noise that doesn't quite have a meaning — at least, not like the one you would expect from the device.

You can't help it. Your entire day, the day of sheer and pure realization, is revolving around metaphors, signs, hints that that is over. The image, made out of white and black small dots, that fills the screen is a bitter, annoying reminder of the gaps that are missing, two immiscible parts not quite meeting, one simply covering some parts of the other, never meeting, never mixing, never being.

Eventually, you don't know how longer, Spencer knocks at your door. You know it's him because besides no one else looking for you, it's like you have an entirely unique sense for his presence, for his existence. It's all that you've held onto for the last months — nine, to be honest. For some, it isn't that long of a time, but you've always thought of it as enough to generate life, the complex, ongoing and steady process so different from what you were allowed to have with him. Time is complex and relative, in the sense that you have experienced so much in such a short amount of time that it was painful. There isn't a life before him—at least, you don't remember it.

Since you can't find it in yourself to stand up, he opens the door himself. The spare key you have nonchalantly left on his nightstand after one of your trysts held an immense amount of meaning, one you weren't ready to access just then. Upon the sight of him, you feel the need to run to his arms, to cling to him and never let go, to ask him to heal and care for your own fragile being, but you don't. You know he's been through his own stuff, and he can't seem to stop going back for more. Dilaudid, the trauma he's exposed to on a daily basis, the never ending heartbreak that surrounds his existence. He knows no life besides those. You know no life besides him.

“I can't do this anymore.”

Your words are lethal. They are short, and they convey the meaning needed, but despite its clear significance, he can't find it in himself to acknowledge them as real. You have said things like that a million times before. It's just another one of those breakdowns, when you got too alone and too much in your head, when he wasn't there to soothe your fears instead of caring for himself. Spencer knows he would drop everything in a heartbeat if you asked him to. Problem is, you don't. You don't talk, you don't ask, you just wait and accept anything he gives you, because it's way easier than to demand, to put in the work in a relationship—at least that's how he accesses the situation. Plus, he would. As in, a conditional. There are still thoughts plaguing his head constantly that stop him from getting what he truly wants.

Spencer approaches, sitting by your side. You don't flinch, barely blinking at the hypnotizing dots dancing on the screen of your TV. Right under the TV, there is a small notebook in which lies all your thoughts. Amidst them, there is the need to escape. To not let him get any closer. You forget it as he gets closer and gently turns your head to meet his gaze.

“What happened?”

“I can't do this anymore.” You repeat, as if he hasn't heard you the first time. Firmer, sureness creeping from your every syllable.

“We talked about this," he tries.

“We did. It wasn't enough—it isn't enough!”

He looks at you softly. The same look that he gives you when he wants you to think he understands you better than anyone else in this world. The same look he has in his eyes when you get impossibly close on either of your beds, the one that makes you think that perhaps something else lies underneath your weird relationship. “Angel, what are you saying?”

Your gaze is piercing, and he can't look away. “You're always coming, but always leaving. I can't spend a life waiting for you.”

“I thought you were okay with that,” he argues, hands dropping to squeeze yours. Your reaction is to almost bashfully retreat them from his touch. To deprive him from your warmth.

“I was. I'm not anymore. And it goes against our arrangement. But I'm so tired of feeling like I'm waiting for something that will never happen, something I will never be to you.”

Spencer frowns softly, hands trembling as he balls them into fists. “It was your idea.”

“To which you agreed. It was what you wanted from me and back then, it was what I wanted from you, too. It's not. Not anymore.”

“So… is this over?”

“Yes.”

The feelings brewing inside him were confusing and, ironically, too much for his brain to process. Your words were stabs to his heart, and for a moment, such was the difficulty to grasp them, that he thought you were speaking a foreign language. One he couldn't begin to understand while you had the fluency, the eloquence of a native. He feels as if he's been following you into the rabbit's hole all the time, only to find out that only you belong there. Not him. The dull yet annoying pain inside his chest that made him feel as if his heart was being squeezed by a hand made of steel, so much was the unbearable sensation of you letting go.

Spencer couldn't keep the resentment from his tone, as he looked at you with the deepest resentment. “You won't even consider what I want? You won't even ask?”

“It's clear enough.”

“How is it clear if you don't talk to me?”

“It's clear because you leave. You come back, that's true. But it's not because you love me. It's because you know I'll be here to distract you from whatever.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Despite being sitting next to you, your knees almost touching, he feels as if there's an ocean between you. Speaking of which, the revelation comes out in a whisper, “it takes an ocean not to break every night you're not here. It's an unbearable effort to get out of bed when you're not here and I don't hear from you.”

“I can—I can do it…” he whispers, rushed, as if his words could convince you to let him in again. To let him stay.

“You can't,” you retorted with a small, sad smile. “I know you can't. I wanted you to stay.”

It seems he wanted even more.

“You don't want me to? Not anymore?”

You nod, softly, avoiding his gaze. “I don't blame you for the way you're living,” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I just don't want to be part of it anymore.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know. I'm sorry too.”

You stand up, and it's the worst view in his entire world. Even though it is your apartment, your space, you leave — a silent conclusion of your painful words to him just a few minutes earlier. Leaving him in the country he had invaded, where he and his army had taken everything away for themselves, leaving you with just enough to get by. It was never an exchange.

Spencer sits there, mind reeling, almost meditating about what had happened. He thought he would come over tonight to talk to you about the trivial aspects of his days, like he was getting accustomed to. He even thought you two would end up in bed, limbs tangled as you tried to catch your breath. Instead, what he gets is a silent apartment, filled with memories of you, your existence, your senses and your things. Something that will soon become nothing but a painful memory of what he had lost right before putting his hands—his heart—on.

Outside, you wait for him to come out. He never does.

Tonight, you would drown in different substances.

divider by @cafekitsune <3

[magicalink]

You're leaving me...AGAIN?!

Kuni couldn't believe his ears. He didn't want to believe his ears. He's been dealing with so much with shit at the Akademiya for months while you were gone to Natlan, doing his best to free time for a vacation with you, when you dropped that bomb...

Content: this is from Better Find Husbandos. Reader and Wanderer have been in a stable relationship for about two years already. But they can barely spend time together since Wanderer is in Sumeru, studying at the Akademiya, and reader had to leave for Natlan. Because of this, they always try to spend their vacations togheter...but something ruined the plans...

SPOILER ALERTS FOR WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LAST LANTERN RITE AND THE TEASER AND BEGINNING OF THE NEW QUEST PARALOGISM IN GAME!!!!!

"I can't believe this. You've been out for MONTHS, we've been planning this trip for MONTHS, and you're cancelling on me the day before??" It's not like him to burst out like this. He'd normally act tsundere, hide his emotions and retreat back to his work without telling you how broken his soft wooden heart is. But you've been working on communication these past two years you've been in a serious relationship. He couldn't help but raise his voice a bit though, this trip was so important for him...he would finally spend some alone time with you isntead of being cooped up with those moldy old sages...

"I know! I know, Kuni. I was so excited for our vacation too, I wanted it more than anything. I've been dreaming about it for months. It was the only thing that kept me sane through Natlan, where you know I didn't wanna be. So please, don't tell me this..." You sighed, heartbroken, collapsing onto the kitchen table.

The past few months, it had been really hard for you to coincide even at the Serenitea Pot. He was in Sumeru, you were in Natlan, and your timezones and timetables rarely crossed. And now that you finally finished your exhausting business in Natlan and had time to finally spend with him at home to prepare for the vacation together you had arranged, this happened.

"You promised me we were gonna spend time together. That this trip would bring us closer together again. We barely spend time together anymore!" He exclaimed, bracing himself in an attempt to feel less vulnerable. He was for real thinking you were abandoning him.

"Kuni please...please listen to me. I really wanna spend time with you, more than anything. I've missed you every singled day and night. But you have your responsibilities and I have mine..."

"That's why we organized the trip! I cleared my whole Akademiya schedule! And now you're cancelling!" He protested.

"Kuni please...I'm not rejecting you. I still love you, with burning passion." You said, reaching for him over the table and cupping his cheek, looking into his eyes with such sadness and vulnerability he couldn't help but soften up a bit "Something came up..." you said with a bitter, worried tone full of trepidation that he didn't like one bit. "Believe me I wouldn't postpone our trip if it wasn't something really important." You said with a shaky voice.

He stayed silent for a moment, processing your words and expressions. He could sense how stressed and...scared you were. His worry for you outweighed his insecurities.

"What happened? Is it about your brother? Did he appear again?" He asked with an almost shaky voice, trying to remain strong. He knew your brother was your number one priority, but he was also scared deep down that you would leave him when you finally reunited with him.

"No..." you sighed "I wish it was that." Your shoulders slumped, staring at the wooden floor with a conflicted expression.

"Then what happened?" Kuni asked, his azure eyes set on you, worried out of his mind and needing answers.

You sighed again and stood silent for a good while. After him insisting further, you came to the conclusion that you couldn't put it into words. So you pulled the letter out of your inventory and handed it to him.

He raised a brow, but accepted the letter with a shaky hand. He was a quick reader, so he finished it in no time. His expression transfigured in a grimace with emotions hard to pinpoint.

"What the hell is this?" He huffed, conflicted, leaving the open letter on the table as if it disgusted him.

"What you just read."

"I know what I read. But what if it's a fake?" He protested.

"It is not a fake. It has the seal of the Knights of Favonius. And even if it was fake, I also got a message from Venti telling me to come to Mondstadt." You sighed, running a hand through your sweaty hair.

It was it. A letter from the Acting Grandmaster Jean. Soliciting your presence for a...trial?

That morning, when you were sipping your coffee, you thought it was weird for them to hold a trial in Mondstadt, especially one in such secrecy. But you choked on your coffee and almost suffocated when you reached the end of the letter and read who the accused was.

Albedo.

Albedo, a name, a friend, a confusing series of events you had been pretending didn't happen for a long time now.

Albedo, a person who taught you so mucj and confused you so much more. A person who you cared for, but couldn't trust. A person who made you promise you would kill him if he lost control and committed atrocities. Something you told him wouldn't happen, with uncertainty in your eyes and heart years ago.

Albedo, accused of very serious crimes. He was going to be judged by the Knights and the Church. This was serious as hell.

The memories of reading the letter that morning were blurry for you, like when you first arrived in Teyvat and all your memories were jambled.

And then Venti's message. He could have visited you personally in the Teapot, but he never did ever since you broke up with him and Xiao and started dating the Wanderer. So he just sent you that other message, like a telegram, one that left no doubt it came from him. The handwriting, the phrasing, the smell of Cecilias, the cryptic message with a private language from the closeness you had years ago telling you to hurry the fuck up because shit was going down fast. And the strong traces of Anemo elemental energy imbued in the scrap of paper. There were no doubts, it was from the Anemo Archon himself. From your ex-fiancé. Begging you to rush back to Mondstadt. This was unprecedented.

After a long suffered sigh and an uncomfortable silence, Kuni ran a hand through his indigo hair, looking down at the letter on the table with disdain.

"And you're going." He sighed.

"I need to go, Kuni." You sentenced, your body rigid and your voice tense.

"You don't need to go. They can solve it on their own. They dont need you to save their country again, that won't get you closer to your brother..." he said desperately.

"I need to go, Kuni." You repeated firmly "He was my friend. He is my friend, in case he is the perosn I think he is. I must go and help my friend."

This changed Kuni's preocuppations completely. A wave of jealousy and insecurity washed over him.

"I thought it was over between you and him. You told me..." he said with a trembling, raspy voice as his indigo eyes darted around restlessly.

"It IS over! We haven't even talked in a year." You replied, resting your tired body on the table. "We haven't talked since that incident that made me so suspicious of him...or the other him...It deeply disturbed me and I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't deal with the doubts and not knowing the truth." You sighed, rubbing your tired face with your hand.

You couldn't trust Albedo. You were never sure if it was really him or...or the imposter. You never knew the truth, he was the kind to always keep secrets.

The kind of secrets which are dark and dangerous and that made him a person you simply could not be in a relationship with. Just like Venti...he always had secrets. He always had those moments in which he looked away and something scary clouded his cheerful expression. Something he said he was forbade from talking about. Ultimately, that eerie spark that sometimes crossed his bright emerald eyes and ruined the already frail remnants of your relationship was what pushed you to make the decision to break up.

You needed someone by your side with whom you could share your pasts, your deepest secrets. Someone who was your equal, who treated you like an equal, not like a pawn in a game or an experiment.

You raised your troubled gaze and looked at him, he was standing across the table, seemingly angry but terrified, like a kitten. There he was, the only one whose past you had witnessed with your own eyes and the only one who had been your accomplice in every failure, in every sin. The only one with whom you could share the weight of the truth and the erased memories of this world. He was your one. He had to understand. So you spoke again.

"I needed to keep going and forget about the whole ordeal with the imposter. We even stopped sharing letters as friends. He used to send me flowers and other alchemy experiments, I sent him foreign objects from my travels. We haven't seen, talked or written each other in a year. Because I'm scared he isn't him." You sank your face in your arms, the last phrase left you cold and shaky.

"You're..." Kuni's voice hitched in his throat.

"I don't want him as a lover!" You exclaimed, desperately trying to make him understand.

"It's hard for me when it's about a man you've been like that with." Kuni replied, crossing his arms and averting his vulnerable gaze, trying to make you understand where he was coming from.

"I know. So please, I'm telling you to trust in me. We've been together for 2 years! Yes, I was lovers with Albedo for a short while...or whatever we were. I think we were more like friends with benefits...It doesn't matter." You huffed. "You know he offered me to be something more, to go serious, to go exclusive, and I said no. I told him I had to leave and continue my journey. And I left him."

"The same thing you tell me..." Kuni huffed resentfully.

"It's different. You know it. You share a room with me now. Even if we don't coincide most of the time lately, we still oficially live together. We have an arrangement. Plans for the future. Despite my quest to find my brother, I always come back to you. I built an entire new house and realm for you and me in the Pot so we wouldn't live in the one I shared with Venti and Xiao in the past!" You exclaimed, tired of his jealousy that persisted despite your many demonstrations of loyalty.

You were always patient with him, but the current situation, the letter, had you disturbed, terrified. You needed Kuni to comfort you this time!

"But I wasn't willing to do that for him, because I didn't love him like a boyfriend. I loved him like a friend. You're the only one I accepted exclusivity with, and I've never ever broken my loyalty to you these past two tyears." You said solemnly. "He's my friend. And you don't abandon your friends, those who've helped you when you were in need. How would you have felt if this happened to Niwa?" You dared ask because you thought the situation demanded it.

His expression turned vulnerable and bitter.

"I understand, but..." he hesitated, conflicted. "Our trip..."

"I swear to you we'll go tot hat trip later. I'll even postpone my trip to Sznezhnaya." You laced your hands with his.

"Postpone the quest for your brother? You've never done that for anyone before...and you don't want me to think you still feel something about that Albedo..." he said bitterly.

"I'm postponing it for you, not for Albedo, you idiot." You huffed "I have no intentions of being his lover again. For the love of god, I rejected his offer of staying with him, of having a child...

"WHAT?? You never told me he offered you that! What a psycho!" Kuni exclaimed, suddenly enraged against the blond homunculus.

"I told you his truly important secrets, the ones I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, and you focus on that stupid detail I completely forgot." You rolled your eyes, losing your patience completely "Can't you focus on the fact that I rejected him and I don't know how many other men for YOU?!" you were seriously done discussing this in this dire situation "What else do you want me to do?! This is super important for me and all you can focus on is your stupid jealousy."

He sighed, trying to calm down.

"Sorry, I know you chose me..." he lowered his voice and his gaze, the emotions taking a toll on him. He needed to explain himself, to let you know that he did care about you, that he wanted to support you, but that it was so hard when these fears were haunting him "...but you're leaving me now and that makes me..." he mumbled, ashamed of his outburst but not knowing what to say to mend the situation, to convey his fears.

"No." You interrupted "I'm not leaving you again, Kuni. I am postponing our vacation, yes, because I desperately need to go to Mondstadt. I must go. And I want you to come with me." You sentenced, and this left him speechless for a moment.

"Seriously?" He raised his brows.

"I need you." You braced yourself, and he immediately went to hug you.

"I...I really wanna go. I really wanna be the one to support you through this..." he said with a trembling voice, getting his hopes up that maybe you would stop being so stubborn and would start letting him protect you "It's just...I've been acting like this because...I don't trust you lately." He sighed.

"You dont trust me?" You exclaimed, heartbroken.

"It's not about infidelity." He clarified quickly "It's about...you leaving me. You doing something reckless to try and save some humans and dying and leaving me alone again." He bit back tears.

"Kuni, I..." you hugged him tight. He interrupted you, looking away from you as if trying to forget the memories of the last time you attempted to go together on Holiday.

"What you did in Liyue some months ago..." He closed his eyes, trying to erase the memory and pain and fear.

"About Xiao?" You asked "There isn't anything between..."

"No! Not that, idiot!" He huffed, running a hand through his face, trying to calm down "Well, that idiot participated in letting you do that crap! If he really cared about you, he wouldn't...You took me there saying the Lantern Rite would be a nice vacation for us to bond and you ended up risking your life for that human girl!" He exclaimed, tears prickling at his eyes.

"Hu Tao?" You raised your brows, perplexed "Kuni...I understand what you mean...we've talked about this. I know I scared you and that wasn't fair to you. But believe me when I tell you that was a controlled risk. I wasn't at risk of dying, the Ley Lines don't affect me. But that girl...if I didn't go, she would have died. I couldn't let her die."

"You're playing hero again." He scowled.

"I'm not." You protested "I'm not. I'm not a hero, I know that. I learned my lesson." You looked away "But I couldn't stay with my arms crossed when I could easily save that girl's life without risking mine. I would have felt like crap. So many people depended on her being alive too. It would just have been wrong."

"Isn't that playing hero?" He protested.

"It's not if I didn't run a real risk." You protested defensively.

"And you're not playing hero here again, trying to save that lame ass country again? They can't do shit without you. You wanna play hero and save the innocent despite knowing that that crazy psycho could kill you!" Kuni exclaimed, gripping your shoulders tightly, as if that would prevent him from losing you.

"No, no, this isn't playing hero, no. I swear." Your tone dropped, your voice turned into a whisper, you felt so vulnerable and cherished in his arms. He had to understand. You cupped his cheeks and looked into his eyes.

"This isn't playing hero, it's not for others. It's for me. I seriously need to go. Need to know what's going on. What happened. I need to know the truth to come to terms with that part of my life." You sighed, fighting back tears.

"Oh, fucking hell..." Kuni sighed, gently massaging your shoulders to try and calm you down a bit. Your hard, muscular body suddenly felt so frail in this state. "Fine, I'll let you go. But you have to swear to me, look me in the eye and swear to me, that you're not gonna risk your life, no matter what. Not to save or kill Albedo, not even for a random civilian, ok? Can you promise me that?" He needed to make sure you wouldn't become reckless again, that you would stay down to earth like you were months ago.

"I...I promise." You sighed "Unless there's really...a monster...if there's a monster trying to destroy Mondstat, then I'll have to step in. I dont want to break a primose ever again. Especially not those made to friends who are...despeaste." I sighed.

"Then I'll go with you." Kuni said decisively.

"Of course you're coming with me, I need you!"

Those words moved him deeply.

"I need you. Who's gonn calm me down when I get a mental breakdown when I get there and see Albedo sitting there in court...?" You covered your mouth, shaking. Just imagining it made your stomach twist. This was so lucb lore than just Albedo. Mondstadt was sacred to you. It was were you woke up in Teyvat and where you spent the most beautiful, carefree, innocent moments of your life. But Teyvat was changing, quickly falling into chaos, and you hadn't visited the city on purpose because you didn't want to see the changes. You wanted your little paradise, your haven at the feet of Vennessa's tree frozen in time like things were inside the Serenitea pot. But you also didn't want the city turn to ashes, destroyed, wiped out of existence forever.

And these were dire times. Venti sending you that chilling letter, when you only talked when strictly necessary ever since you broke up.

You knew something deep was going on. You needed to go. But you were too scared, felt too weak to go alone. You needed him.

"I know I shouldn't take you there..." You sighed.

"So you are admitting it might be dangerous." He huffed. You nodded embarrassedly "Then, of course I'm going with you. I'm not letting you go alone. I'm gonna protect you whether you want it or not." He barked.

"It is decided then." You sighed, knowing this had to be done. You didn't want him to risk his life for you. But you couldn't stand the idea of going alone, and his presence would prevent you from doing things too reckless. Having to protect him would make you act more rational, you knew that. "We're going to Mondstadt, attend the trial, and if everything goes well, how about we spend our vacations at the Windblume's festival?" You suggested with a hopeful tone.

"And if everything goes wrong?" Kuni sighed holding you tightly.

"Then I promise I will always put us first. The two of us." You said solemnly, hugging him back.

"You swear?" Kuni insisted, gripping your shoulders tightly, leaning his nose close to yours.

"I swear." You nodded, and sealed the promise with a kiss.

To be continued....

When I get more free time I'll continue playing Paralogism and might or might not continue telling you what happened based on the canon story. This came out of nowhere when I started the quest bc I loved going back to Mond and all the characters I love and during the whole scene all I could think about was the mc of Better Find Husbandos suffering like hell as Albedo, his old friend, was being judged, especially considering that she doesn't know what happened to the imposter. I can imagine that when Diluc came into scene she almost fainted.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Epilogue: It’s Not Over ‘Til You’re Underground]

A/N: We've finally reached the end of the Oregon Trail, besties!!! Enjoy this one last treat to celebrate the conclusion of Martyrs 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Both the series title and epilogue title are lyrics from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Word count: 4.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Autumn is the harvest, ripping up roots, preparing for the starving time of winter, and so you step through the threshold of your new life as the world is ending again.

“I knew the chances,” Sophie says when you tell her what happened; but she can’t look at you, because of course she wishes it was Rio who made it to Odessa instead, and you don’t blame her. She breaks down and leaves the house, and you sit there—silent, sorry, self-loathing—for a long time with Rio’s weeping parents and Aegon’s arm draped across the back of your chair. But then Sophie comes back inside, and through tears she says it’s nice to meet you in person at last, and then she asks if you’d like to hold Rio’s son.

Here it is commonplace to see M16s and AR-15s, marijuana growing in gardens, a myriad of flags flying from homes—Don’t Tread On Me, Trump 2024, American flags, rainbow flags, porcupines of the Libertarian Party—and order is maintained by an elected council of longtime Odessa residents. For anyone to be allowed into the community, somebody already here must take responsibility for them, and so the seven of you—eight, counting Ice—spend the first few months sleeping on Rio’s parents’ living room floor and eating meals out of their cellar, enough self-stable food to last for years. You join the construction crew and help build houses, Cregan cuts down trees and fishes and hunts, Helaena shows Aegon how to garden and Sophie teaches Luke to bake bread. There are no doctors here, but there are several unlicensed midwives and a veterinarian named Ian Whitted. Rhaena studies under him—attending every appointment and taking copious notes in the spider notebook Helaena gifts her, sharing what she learned from Aemond—and before long her sutures are quicker and cleaner than Ian’s. Daeron, considered too young and inexperienced for the most dangerous work, is posted with his compound bow inside the village to serve as a guard. He resents this until he realizes there are far more women to flirt with here than out in the forest where wolves and bears prowl and the dead rove with incurable hunger.

You work from dawn to sunset; you work so you have no time to think. The baby doesn’t feel real, and neither does Aemond being gone, and the future is so unimaginable you’d rather not try to imagine it at all. Because you’re a good shot, they want you for patrols and raids of nearby towns to search for supplies, and you take every shift you’re offered until Rhaena says you have to stop. She tells you that each time you leave, Aegon watches the door until you walk through it again, that it’s not good for him, that it’s not good for you either. She says you can’t keep running from what’s happened.

“I’m not trying to run away,” you tell her where she’s cornered you by one of the wells, lilac twilight sky and glimmers of stars, hoots of owls and children laughing as they roast marshmallows over crackling fires. “I’m trying to find my way through.”

“Fine,” Rhaena replies firmly, no room for argument. “But you’re going to do that in here where it’s safe.”

The new houses have wooden walls and kitchen fireplaces made of stones, beds with feather mattresses, plots for gardens and pens for ducks, chickens, pigs, sheep, goats, turkeys, cattle. Helaena and Cregan move into one cabin, Rhaena and Luke share another, and you have the last to yourself, the first time you’ve ever lived alone. Aegon and Daeron float around between the houses, more often than not ending up in yours as the sun is dipping below the tree line into the west, Daeron carving wooden cutlery with a hunting knife, Aegon cuddling with Ice on the deerskin rug, luring you into disastrous baking attempts and games of Uno and telling stories about Washington D.C., Djibouti, Key West, Corpus Christi, Chinhae, Diego Garcia, Saratoga Springs before the dead began to walk.

Thanksgiving dinner is at Rio’s parents’ house, Sophie’s baby sound asleep in his blue sling, candles flickering and Ice lying beneath the table to gulp down scraps that fall to the floor: roasted turkey, hazelnut stuffing, buttered carrots, mashed potatoes, pickled beets, salad with homemade ranch dressing, pumpkin pie for dessert.

“God, I miss chilidogs,” Aegon mutters beside you, and you laugh—a real laugh, loud and helpless, a lightness flooding into your arteries and the marrow of your bones—for the first time since Aemond died.

“You have to try this,” Sophie says, pouring you a small glass of moonshine distilled with apples and cherries and cinnamon. Everybody else has already had a taste except Aegon. He doesn’t drink anymore, doesn’t smoke the weed people grow here, only keeps a few tobacco plants in your garden to enjoy on rare occasions.

“I can’t,” you tell Sophie, staring at the amber-colored moonshine. You are over three months along and will be showing soon. It materializes all at once, shifts from a hazy apparition to something in full focus: next Thanksgiving you will have a fatherless infant of your own.

Sophie is puzzled. The glass of moonshine waits untouched on the table. “Why not?”

“Because I’m pregnant,” you say.

Aegon chokes on his pumpkin pie. “You’re what?!”

And everyone except Helaena drops their forks and leaps up to engulf you: How long have you known? How far along are you? Why didn’t you tell us? How can we help?

You stop lifting heavy things and stay off of ladders. Helaena brings you kale and mushrooms, Sophie knits you baby clothes, Rio’s mom makes you candles infused with essential oils, lavender, chamomile, ginger, and you lie and say they make a difference. Aegon helps you build a crib; you don’t need his help, but still, he insists. Smiling to himself, he etches two words into the headboard: Mini Chips. Wheat is planted in the fields to the north of the village. Scrap metal is scavenged for the blacksmiths to melt down to make nails and bullets. You learn to sweeten desserts with honey instead of sugar and to hold your hand flat when you feed the baby goats so they won’t nibble your fingers. You wait for winter to thaw and summer to come back around again.

It is what people would call a bad birth: hemorrhaging and lots of stitches, Rhaena squinting in the glow of the flashlights trying to piece you back together, rain outside and no lidocaine. You can’t stop crying. You feel like you’re going to die, and you’re shaking too badly to hold your own child, and you want Aemond. He would know what to do, he would know how to make the world go quiet. And the truth that he will never meet his daughter hits you over and over again like cold lethal waves, like bullets that pierce the heart.

Aegon is here instead, and you want to cling to him but you can’t; if all the others could die, so can he. But even when you look away from him to stare at the wall he stays, his hand clutching yours and never complaining even when you squeeze it hard enough to leave bruises that paint him maroon and indigo, tilting glasses filled with fresh pomegranate juice against your lips, asking Rhaena and Ian what you will need from him as you recover. Slowly the house empties and everyone goes home, but Aegon stays through the night and never leaves again.

Harmony cries a lot, as if she already knows she’s lost someone. She has trouble nursing and only sleeps for a few hours at a time. People are always coming in and out of the house: Sophie with handknit clothes and blankets for the baby, Helaena with flowers and fruit and vegetables, Rhaena with loaves of Luke’s fresh-baked bread, Cregan with firewood. At first Aegon is better with Harmony than you are. You love her, of course, and you mourn for the life you cannot give her; but you can’t shake the feeling that someone left her on your doorstep, this fragile bewildering creature you are so unequipped to soothe. Yet Aegon picks her up and she stops crying. He carries her around the house and murmurs nonsense—rules of golf, sailing knots—and she gazes up at him mesmerized; and in the peace that grows from him like weeds, wild and inevitable, you can heal.

Aegon helps you walk for the first week after the birth. He brings you meals, overflowing plates you can never finish. He respectfully averts his eyes when you nurse the baby and when he passes the bedroom as you’re changing clothes, slowly and inelegantly, every muscle feeling shredded. He falls exhausted into bed beside you with his arms crossed over his chest so he won’t reach for you in his sleep. You keep waiting for him to start craving marijuana and moonshine, to meet someone who makes him wayward again while you are left here alone, morose and unglamorous and bleeding. You care about Aegon—entirely, violently—but you are convinced you’ll never love a man again. Perhaps love is something that is always doomed to be broken, ruinous, poisoned.

When Harmony is about four months old, you begin to see Aegon differently. You can’t stop staring at the way his hair shags over his eyes when he’s bent low in the garden, you hide behind walls and listen each time you catch him singing to himself, you feel a dark desperate sense of loss when other women flirt with him, though Aegon is never more than polite in return. You find excuses to touch him, and he always acquiesces: Let me bandage the cuts on your hands, let me dab honey on your sunburn.

One night you wake to find Aegon with Harmony in the kitchen, humming and rocking her in his arms as he paces back and forth across the wood floor in his bare feet, the full moon radiant through the window, the fireplace crackling. He glances over when he notices you standing in the doorway and says: “I think this is the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

“Aegon?”

“Yeah, Chips.”

“I’m in love with you.”

At first he is startled, and then he smiles in the firelight, a slow mischievous curve of the lips that puts stars in his eyes and shows his teeth. “Took you long enough.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly ten years ago, you were learning how to be a builder at Class A Technical School in Gulfport, Mississippi, salt and sun and sweet tea and humidity that lies heavy like a second skin you can’t shed. Today you are hammering nails into boards that will be a wall of the new meeting house, twice the square footage of the old one. The community here keeps growing.

“Watch out for your fingers, Zack Attack.”

 Zack looks over at you. He’s a kid, nineteen, and he’s only been here a week. He left Beaumont, Texas with a group of thirty people, one of them the cousin of a council member here. Twelve were left when they arrived. “Huh?”

“You’re holding the nail too close to the bottom,” you say. “If you swing the hammer and miss—and you will miss, everyone does sometimes, even me—you’ll crush your fingers against the wood. But if you hold the nail up near the top, the hammer will kind of knock them out of the way as it comes down, and you won’t have to worry about Rhaena or Ian popping your bones back into place.”

“Oh, cool! Thanks!” Zack readjusts his hands. “Where’d you learn to do all this?”

“The Navy.”

“Right. That makes sense.” He gives you a crooked, conspiratorial grin. “I heard you’re a good shot.”

“I am, I guess.” You don’t do patrols anymore, but you’re on the list of people to call when there’s a security breach, and you go because you have to. If Odessa is ever overrun, that will be the end of the life you’ve made here. The last scare was two months ago, a hoard that wandered up from the south, probably out of Klamath Falls. Someone knocked and you answered, leaving Aegon standing in the doorway with troubled eyes, Noah in his arms asking: Where Mama go? And Aegon had told him She’ll be back soon, buddy, but of course no one had known if that was true.

Now Zack says admiringly: “A real killer.”

You smile and give him a slap on the shoulder as you start climbing down the ladder. “I’d rather be a builder.”

“You heading out?”

“Yeah, my kids probably miss me.”

“See ya tomorrow. Bring more of Aegon’s raspberry crumb muffins.”

You laugh. “If there are any left.”

Down on the ground, bumblebees orbit tufts of wildflowers and cats prowl for mice. Sitting cross-legged on the grass are kids rubbing nails against bars of goat milk soap; it makes them go into the wood easier. They play the same way you did as a child: in the dirt, in the wild, tracking animals and building dams in the creek. They wave as you pass by. Everyone knows each other here. Everyone knows what you can do with the Beretta M9 in your holster.

Beside one of the wells, Daeron is helping a flock of tittering, blushing women pull up their buckets and plucking stray blades of grass and pine needles out of their hair. He is easily the most eligible bachelor in Odessa, and in no hurry to take himself off the market. By the schoolhouse, two teenagers are petting Ice as they listen to Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman and rap along to Gold Digger: “You will see him on tv, any given Sunday, win the Super Bowl and drive off in a Hyundai…”

But at Sophie’s house, the song you hear is Darius Rucker’s Wagon Wheel, drifting from a battery-powered boombox containing one of Rio’s dad’s cassette tapes. Aegon is already here and dusted with earth, your children clamoring around his legs as he chats with Sophie at the edge of the garden: zucchini, snap peas, tomatoes, strawberries, spinach, potatoes, cucumbers, carrots, kale. When Aegon sees you, he lights up and says to the kids: “Look! Look who’s here!” And you crouch down and open your arms so you can catch all three of them as they barrel into you on small, wobbly legs.

The second birth was much easier, the third only lasted an afternoon. Opal, three years old, is named after a gemstone that Sophie told you symbolizes hope and clarity; Noah, two and with unruly blonde hair like Aegon’s, shares a name with the man who started over when the world flooded and all the generations before were lost. You pick him up before he can trip over his own feet.

“Mama, come see!” Harmony shouts, grabbing your free hand and dragging you to a hutch full of fluffy, multicolored rabbits. Aegon is walking over to join you, his hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his lips, long blonde hair and stubbled cheeks.

“Are these the new meat rabbits?” you say without thinking, and Aegon widens his eyes at you.

Harmony peers up with a worried frown. She’s getting too smart to be shielded from such harsh realities. “Why did you call them meat rabbits?”

Aegon swoops Harmony off the ground to distract her. “Because they’re so excited to meet you!” he says as she giggles and kicks through open air.

“What are their names?” you ask to change the subject.

“Arrax,” Opal says in her toddler lisp, pointing to a grey one. And then, indicating a rabbit with long, reddish-tan fur: “Morning.”

“Those are such nice names!” you gush, a bit perplexed. Children have a certain mystery to them, one foot still in the Great Beyond, wherever souls wait to be born and reunited.

“And this one is Sunfyre,” Harmony announces proudly, reaching through the wire to scratch its straw-colored coat.

“Sunfyre?!” Aegon says. “Well now you’re just making shit up.” A pause. “Stuff. You’re making stuff up.”

“And Sunfyre is married to Dreamfyre.”

“Cute,” Aegon says. “Incestuous, but cute.”

“The post-apocalypse dating pool is limited,” you remind him.

“Have you met the Texas people yet?” Sophie asks you as she wanders over to the hutch in a handknit yellow dress, wearing elephant earrings that Rio once mailed home to her from Djibouti.

“Yeah, some of them are working on the meeting house. They seem really nice. And apparently they know how to barbeque, so that’s exciting. New recipes!”

Sophie smirks. “When they dropped by to introduce themselves, I had to have the whole conversation again.”

“Well…you did name your kid Otter.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Sophie says, chuckling, showing her palms. “I did not name him Otter.”

“You named him Bryan Otter Osorio. And you call him Otter.”

“Because he’s a little kid and it’s a perfectly fine nickname for now! And then when he’s older…you know…he can decide who he wants to be.”

You smile. “Sure.”

“I think it’s great, personally,” Aegon says. “I’m hoping I’ll get to name my next one Softshell Turtle.”

“Absolutely,” you deadpan. “And what if it’s a girl?”

“Softshell Turtle is obviously unisex.”

Sophie is laughing and shaking her head. “I hate you guys.”

Helaena and Cregan arrive to pick up their children, two sets of twins, all named after species of butterflies: Skipper, Adonis, Tiger, Sara. Rio’s parents bring them outside to the garden to be collected. They and Sophie like to keep the house full of children, especially now that Otter is getting older. And when they need meat or firewood or their roof patched, they know who to ask.

“I’m so sorry,” Sophie tells Helaena and Cregan as they wrangle their brood. “I’m mortified. Adonis ate Harmony’s oatmeal raisin cookie and made her cry, so Otter smacked him in the head with his golf club.” Aegon has carved miniature, lightweight clubs out of pine wood for each of the children; they zip around putting acorns and walnuts. “Adonis was freaked out but I think he’s fine now. I couldn’t find a bruise or anything. Again, I’m so, so, so sorry.”

“You okay, buckaroo?” Cregan asks, and his oldest son—brunette man bun, already pestering his dad to take him hunting—nods adamantly.

“Duh. It didn’t even hurt.”

Cregan guffaws and turns back to Sophie. “See? No harm done.”

Otter trots out of the house, rubbing his eyes like he just woke up from a nap. Harmony immediately runs over to hug him. He’s already six inches taller than her and is always giving her gifts that end up on the fireplace mantle at your house: flecks of quartz, pinecones, bracelets woven from buttercups.

Sophie asks Otter: “Did you think about what you did earlier?”

“Yeah,” he replies cavalierly.

“Would you do it again?”

“Probably.”

“Oh dear,” Sophie exhales, exasperated.

You beam down at Otter. “He’s exactly like Rio.”

“Yeah,” Sophie says wistfully, combing her fingers through his dark curly hair. “He really is.”

Rhaena and Luke happen to be strolling by and stop to say hello. Luke teaches English classes at the schoolhouse, founded the Cultural Preservation Committee, and writes and directs a new play each month. When he is in the lull between original ideas, he draws from pre-zombie pop culture. The June production is Free Britney.

“Hi!” Rhaena says, waving. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?” All the adults offer greetings and confirm they’ll swing by her and Luke’s cabin in a few hours. Then Rhaena shields her eyes from the sun as she sighs incredulously. “Do you realize there are ten women due in the next two weeks? I spend all day rushing around because they’re panicking about Braxton Hicks contractions. If I get one full night’s sleep between now and mid-July, it’ll be a miracle. Am I the only human alive who knows how to use the rhythm method? I explain it! I give lessons!”

You laugh and say: “I think people just really want babies, Rhaena.”

“They’re so sweet,” Helaena coos as she snuggles Sara against her chest.

“Gotta repopulate the planet,” Cregan adds.

Rhaena is disturbed. “I don’t feel ready for that.”

“Totally cool,” you assure her. “Helaena and I are keeping the average up.”

That night, logs pop and hiss in the fireplace and wind howls outside through the forest. On the walls are photographs of Aemond and Helaena and Daeron, drawings that the children have scribbled of you and Aegon. Propped in one corner of the living room is Aegon’s acoustic guitar; Harmony’s current favorite song for him to play is Big Girls Don’t Cry, though a slightly censored version of Fergalicious is a close second. Tomorrow is Aegon’s birthday. You have a cake hidden in one of the kitchen cabinets—cinnamon, honey, buttercream frosting—that you baked this morning before leaving for the construction site, along with 35 small homemade candles dyed green with chamomile. Every year he assumes you’ve forgotten, but you never do. You’re so thankful he was born. You are eternally finding new ways to convince him of this.

All five of you cuddle up in the big bed for story time. You begin as you always do, struggling to capture the kids’ attention as they crawl around giggling and rolling on top of each other: “Hey, hey, everyone look at me. You remember what we say.” Harmony knows this part my heart, Opal has the words mostly right, Noah gives it a solid effort as he mauls on a teddy bear Sophie knitted for him. “You’re beautiful. I love you. You’re doing the right thing.”

“What story should Mama tell tonight, huh?” Aegon asks as you open the book of fairytales borrowed from the makeshift community library, another one of Luke’s projects. “The Little Mermaid, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Beauty and the Beast…oh wait, I think I might be in that one…”

Harmony says to you: “Tell the story about how Aemond saved us from the tower.”

Children understand death here. People get infections, people succumb to cancer or heart attacks or strokes or diabetes, people go out on raids or patrols and never come back, one man contracted rabies from a bat bite and was—at his request—euthanized via gunshot. Harmony is aware she had a father before Aegon, but that he had to go to heaven early, and so Aegon is her father now and loves her completely. She knows Aemond’s face from the photographs Helaena took from the beach house on the Pacific Ocean. She knows the kind of person he was from the stories she’s been told. Harmony envisions a fantastical castle keep instead of a stark metal transmission tower draped in dead wires, and she’s a bit unclear on the chronology of when she entered the picture, but she has heard about the journey to Odessa. Aegon’s map, annotated with glittery green gel pen ink, hangs on the kitchen wall.

You close the book, looking at Harmony: your hair, Aemond’s eyes. “Okay. I can tell that one.”

“Mama…” Her little forehead crinkles, questions she is at last getting old enough to start asking. “Why do some people have to go to heaven before they’re old?”

You hesitate, trying to decide how to explain; and now embers are glowing hot and scarring in your throat. It’s a fire that cools and rekindles but never burns out. Aegon speaks instead. “Because they’re heroes, Mini Chips,” he says gently. “They go to heaven so other people get to stay here longer. Aemond went to heaven so you and your mom could live here in Odessa with me.”

“So Otter’s daddy was a hero too?”

Aegon leans down to kiss the top of her head, his eyes shining. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Not just a hero, you think. A martyr. Someone who dies for a cause.

Harmony is patting your arm with her tiny outstretched hand. “The tower, Mama. Tell us about the tower.”

Now you are there again with Rio: sixty feet off the ground and clinging to metal beams hot enough to put blisters on your palms, cascading June sunlight and wild emerald fields, blood and madness behind you, the mirage of Oregon ahead, believing without reason that someone out there will save you.

And they will; they will.

[kingkruell]

MUSE | CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS - choso, an aspiring artist lost in a creative rut, wanders into an art gallery, not expecting to meet someone with a bright smile and a way of seeing the world that makes even chaos seem beautiful. as their encounters turn into something more intentional, choso finds himself drawn not only to the art but to you—the person who makes his world feel a little less heavy and a little more alive.

CONTENT- artist! choso au x reader, awkward soft choso, short little fluff one-shot for my choso lovers

WORD COUNT 1.771

story requested by @ravester, enjoy! <3

listening to: no words to be found - sweet trip

earlier that evening, choso stared at the canvas tucked into the corner of his studio, the smell of paint lingering like a taunt. he slouched against the worn leather of the couch, brows furrowed as shame gnawed at him. he thought of how his failure to comply with his parents’ wishes—jobs in the form of paperwork, stable and conventional, maybe ones in one of those tall buildings in the city with their imperious windows shining and peering down at the people walking—had led him to this.

he tried, really. it had been days, no, actually, weeks since the colors started to look muted, and every stroke of his paintbrush seemed jagged and unsure. the sketches on his desk gathered dust, and his mind, usually teeming with concepts, now felt desolate and empty. something just wasn’t right, and in moments like this, his parents’ words lodged themselves in his thoughts: “it’s impractical. focus on a real career.”

it made him wonder, sometimes, if they were right, if maybe he was just being stubborn, clinging to something that had already slipped through his fingers.

now, standing in front of a sculpture he couldn’t quite decipher, choso sighed and rubbed his face in frustration. he hadn’t meant to wander into the gallery. in fact, he had been aimlessly walking through the city, hoping that movement might unclog whatever had blocked his mind. it wasn’t until he found himself standing in front of a free-form sculpture—resembling branches sprawling out with irregular edges and curves—that he realized where he was.

art, even his own, had never fully made sense to him. but somehow that was comforting, like proof that he wasn’t the only one feeling lost.

someone stood beside him, head tilted in contemplation. he almost didn’t notice until you spoke, your voice cutting through his thoughts softly. “it’s kind of... overwhelming, isn’t it?”

when he looked to his side, he saw you.

you were closer than he’d realized, the gentle curve of your profile framed by the dim light filtering through the gallery windows. you didn’t look at him right away, still caught up in the sculpture, and he took the moment to study the way your eyes traced the work, like you were searching for something.

he cleared his throat, eyes darting back to the painting before you could catch him staring. “yeah,” he murmured, his voice quieter than intended. “it feels like it’s fighting itself.”

you turned to him then, eyes bright with curiosity, and he felt something twist in his chest, like a weight shifting unexpectedly. “exactly,” you said, a small smile playing at your lips. “it’s almost like it can’t decide whether to be calm or completely fall apart.”

if he was being honest, he hadn’t seen it that way before, but now that you mentioned it, it made sense. like the sculpture was stuck between peace and destruction, never quite settling on either. he glanced at you again, wondering how you could look at something so chaotic and see it with such clarity.

“i don’t really know much about art,” you continued, almost sheepish. “i just come here because it’s... peaceful. even the messy stuff.”

he didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just nodded, feeling oddly self-conscious. he wasn’t used to words feeling this tangled, like his thoughts couldn’t catch up to his mouth. you didn’t seem to mind the quiet, though, just stood there next to him like you belonged there, and for some reason, he didn’t want to move.

you glanced at him again, your smile softening when you noticed his silence. “sorry, i didn’t mean to ramble,” you said, a little embarrassed.

“no,” he blurted out, too quickly, and his ears burned. “it’s... nice. what you said. it makes sense.”

you hummed softly, “you’re…an artist?” you tilted your head slightly as his eyes widened, somehow caught off guard. he looked at you like he wasn’t sure whether to deny it or admit it, like the word itself didn’t sit quite right with him.

you pointed, a small, amused smile tugging at your lips. “there’s paint on your hand.”

he glanced down, and sure enough, smudges of dried blue and ochre clung to his fingers, remnants of a failed attempt from the night before. his hand twitched, instinctively moving to his pocket as if to hide it, but it was too late.

“oh,” he mumbled, looking away sheepishly, “yeah... i guess.”

your smile softened, and you didn’t push him to explain. instead, you just nodded as if it made sense, like it wasn’t something strange or out of place. choso couldn’t quite figure out why that made him feel a little lighter.

you left before he could think to ask your name, and the gallery seemed emptier after that.

the second time he saw you, it felt like an accident, like fate had taken pity on him. he hadn’t planned on coming back; in fact, he’d promised himself not to. the thought of deliberately seeking you out felt... embarrassing, somehow, like admitting that your brief encounter had meant something. but the city had pressed too close again, its noise scraping against his thoughts and his feet had taken him there without much conscious effort.

his eyes were glued to the painting in front of him, but he was way too aware of the space beside him, the possibility that you might walk up again, speak in that soft, thoughtful way of yours. when he heard footsteps approaching, his heart thudded too hard, and he forced himself to keep his gaze forward, pretending not to hope. but then he noticed you first; caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye, moving through the room with such ease. his chest tightened, and before he could gather himself, you turned, spotting him. your smile unfolded slowly, like it belonged there, and his heart did something unfamiliar— it was trying to flip itself over.

“you’re back,” you said, like it wasn’t a surprise, like you’d been expecting him.

he just nodded, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. there was a split second where he thought about making an excuse, something to explain why he was there again, but the words dried up before they reached his tongue. you didn’t ask why. instead, you just moved to stand beside him, your presence fitting into the space like it was always meant to be there. he didn’t know how to explain that the gallery didn’t feel as suffocating as his own studio—how the air seemed easier to breathe when you were around.

you wandered together, your steps slow and unhurried, neither of you saying much. he wasn’t used to silence that didn’t feel like pressure. usually, quiet weighed heavy, dragging him down, but with you, it felt more like a pause between thoughts, and it was nice. sometimes he caught himself glancing at you, watching the way your eyes lingered on a piece or how your lips curved when something caught your interest. he tried not to stare, not to let himself get caught in the way his own chest ached with something soft and unfamiliar.

when you left that time, he realized he hadn’t asked your name again. it didn’t hit him until he was halfway down the street, the realization sinking in like a dull ache. something tightened in his chest, and he wondered why it felt like a mistake.

the third time, he couldn’t pretend it was a coincidence anymore. he came back deliberately, shoulders tense with something like expectation. his hands felt too big, his steps too loud on the gallery floor, and when he couldn’t spot you right away, a strange mix of relief and disappointment washed over him.

he didn’t know how to approach you when he finally saw you, so he lingered awkwardly by a painting, trying to act like he wasn’t deliberately positioning himself in your line of sight. he could feel the tips of his ears warming, and his fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt, trying to look like he belonged there.

then you noticed him, and your face lit up, the kind of smile that made the room feel brighter. something in him eased, his shoulders losing their tension, and he couldn’t help but glance down, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips.

“hey,” you greeted, coming closer, and he tried not to look too eager. “i had a feeling i’d see you here again.”

he swallowed, unsure how to respond, and settled for a quiet, “yeah.” it didn’t feel like enough, but you didn’t seem to mind, just kept that gentle, knowing smile.

he realized too late that he was supposed to say something.

“um... what’s your name?” he blurted out, too loud in the hushed room. he felt his ears heat up, and you laughed, a sound that felt softer than it should.

you gave your name, and when he repeated it under his breath, you didn’t tease him for it. instead, you pulled out your phone, holding it out like it was the most natural thing. “here. in case you want to meet up next time.” his hands felt too big and clumsy as he typed his number, and when he handed the phone back, your fingers brushed his, and he almost pulled away. you didn’t seem to notice, just smiled and waved as you walked off.

that night, he found himself sketching again, but something had loosened in his chest. his hands moved without overthinking. he looked at his sketch; still hazy, but undeniably alive, and he wondered when he’d last felt this way.

later that same day, he received a message from you.

hii choso

he stared at the message a little too long, his brain trying to wrap around the simple words.

hey

it took less than two minutes for your next message to come through

“i’d love to see you art works”

he smiled, his finger hovering over the screen of his phone. his art was personal and you wanted to see it.

the next time he saw you, he didn’t stumble over his words when you asked if he’d been painting. he just nodded, a small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, and when you said you were glad, he thought maybe he could get used to the way your presence made the world feel a little less daunting.

[a-a-a-anon]

absolutely fascinated by young dee who is criminally under-discussed so here is my dissertation on what happened in her college years (ft. dr. gainer, setting her roommate on fire, being institutionalized)/my idea for a fic that I will almost certainly never write/my way too serious take on a few throwaway dee lore lines

timeline background: we know that dee majored in psychology ('charlie got molested') and got "three fourths" of the way in (meanwhile dennis finished his psych minor.) assuming this was a four year program, I'm gonna guess that in her third year she got institutionalized and most likely had to drop out ('gun fever too: still hot'.) we also know that she had her back brace until she was twenty ('underage drinking'), so I'm guessing that means she got her back brace off in her third year.

we know that dennis fancied himself a psychologist since he was young, but I think dee did too. in particular I think she was wary and interested in her brother's psychology; she seems very aware of his psychopathy and bpd in 'making dennis reynolds a murderer' and 'psycho pete returns.' in my head she's been interested in dennis' psychology since they were kids and she saw him snapping crows necks. so instead of forcing her way into acting school, she studied psychology to better understand her brother (and also deep down, herself, who is very much the other side of the same fucked up coin.) it also meant she could tell herself she could study her characters even better when she became an actress.

i think she put in (her version of) genuine academic effort to get in, fuelled kind of by spite (remember the way she studied that thick medical book in 'hero or hate crime' or her very quick math in 'boggs: ladies reboot'). she studies books and gets cricket to quiz her and she still fails to get into penn. but frank always pitied her (i think she was his favorite of the twins-remember "let your sister into the gang", "that's my girl!", "i'm sorry the grift didn't work out, sweetie") so he shells out cash to get her in, but also to get her away from home so he has to deal with her even less.

dennis wants to do anything dee does but better and he wants to keep her close by (to watch her crash and burn, and also because he's weirdly possessive-see 'the gang broke dee' "i'm your select!"). and obviously he's barbara's favorite. so barbara gives him money to get in too. she also gets him into a frat and pays for his classes and his rent and everything he needs. dee has to live in a dumpy dorm with a female roommate.

but college presents dee a chance to moult her previous place in life where she was known as a monster (remember how insistent she was that "people can change!" in 'franks pretty woman'. I think dees always wanted to believe she can shed that feeling she's inferior, but she never has). in my head her female roommate is basically normal-has real friends of her own, mentally stable, attractive-which is exactly what dee craves. dee wants to be popular and well liked and she wants to infiltrate her roommates life, imitate her, be in the Cool group. and she places all her hopes on a friendship with the roommate but dee has never navigated real female friendships before, not with someone like her. deep down she also wishes she found what dennis found in mac, whatever it was, because ever since dennis met mac he's never been as close to her. and i do think dee is some flavor of queer. and the roommate is well liked in the way that dee admires and envies. so there is that blurriness between wanting to be her and wanting to be with her. in my head her roommate looks like the woman from dee's fantasy in 'the gang saves the day' (and they both represent that promise of escape from dee's shitty life).

dee is so desperate for the roommates approval and her love and her life that she goes insane, copying and flattering and competing with her. ever the shitty actress, she tries to emulate her, but comes off as manic and creepy. and maybe her roommate is nice enough to not completely shun her, recognizing that she's struggling. maybe in dees mind they actually are becoming friends when her roommate asks things like "are you okay?"

and dee has to talk about her plan with dennis because he's the only person who would Get It. and she makes it sound like it's almost working. dennis feels jealous and worried and threatened that maybe dee might actually be seen as normal, especially when she gets her back brace off in the third year. so dennis fucks her roommate, more of a show that he owns and controls each and every pathetic part of dee’s life than anything else. and so that dee knows she'll never be as good as him, she'll never as easily charm people as dennis does. (or at least he tells her he does).

to prove that To Someone dee is Good Enough, and so desperate for attention, dee (who's been groomed all this time) enters a sexual relationship with her professor dr. gainer. she tells herself she has the power in it, that she seduced him ("he didn't molest me. i had sex with him 'cause i wanted to.") and she has a mental break, because the thing she told herself held her back from being loved (her back brace) is finally gone by now and yet she still feels like a monster, and the only scrap of "love" she can get is from her professor.

and then she can't take the fact that she can steal her roommates clothes, can emulate her sexual prowess (in dee's own fucked up, delusional way), and still neither be well liked like her nor be loved by her. so maybe dee will always be a monster. so dee tried to burn her roommate in her bed, because she represented the promise of change and popularity, and that promise was a lie and dee's effort was for nothing. and she's institutionalized.

and i think there was kind of a falling out between the twins and their parents, because barbara wants to abandon dee but dennis can't help but visit her. and frank doesn't even step foot in a place that reminds him of his traumatic childhood, and avoids dee even more than he used to because she is his childhood mirror image. so the family becomes even more fractured and estranged.

and maybe dee becomes medicated and slowly crawls her way halfway to normal by the first season (her acting classes are so well-adjusted, taking part in healthy hobbies of her!). until her father comes back into her life and everything falls apart <3

side note, even though dee is crushingly lonely-"I just got a cat 'cause I wanted something to hang out with. I don't have, you know, a roommate or anything, and I don't really have anyone to talk to..."-AND she struggles to pay rent whenever frank cuts her off, i hc that she refused to ever get a roommate in particular female roommate again after this because both her internalized misogyny got worse and she was afraid of what would happen (what she would do) again.

[delatoid]

Sorry I haven't really been posting much of substance for a while now. I've been slowly losing the joy of drawing and the fact that I've been progressively getting a lot less eyes on my art recently (outside of tumblr at least, tumblr's always been pretty consistent for better or for worse) isn't mixing well with that and I've been really demotivated to do much of anything as a result

The worst part of it is that it's affecting my drive to finish my big projects. Getting medicated was great because I had the energy to work on bigger stuff finally (getting animations done finally and even getting work done on games. it's a lot lot later than I wish I was able to work on em, but I got there eventually at least) but that's all for nothing if I don't have a base motivation to work on them. The main thinking is "if people don't care anymore about my singular pieces, there's no way I'm gonna be able to lure them into looking at my bigger passion products". At this point I'm pretty certain my sudden growth was just a fluke and people are basically already getting tired of me. Another thing that's kinda "confirming" that in my head is that my stream viewer numbers dropped hard. I was getting two-digit viewer numbers when I started back up again but now I'm basically getting two viewers. I'm sure most of it is just that the novelty of me streaming wore of for the small section of my existing audience that were willing to watch them, but it's also probably that they found me boring or annoying and understandably didn't want to watch anymore. Was probably going to happen anyway, but it does not mix well with my current mindset :L I know the usual "it's just internet points who cares/you're worrying over nothing" but I really hate getting that argument since I basically just end up being the bad guy just for wanting validation for something I don't get much validation for irl. And I'm not really just talking about "oh wow delatoid I like your art :*)" but that basically I'm never gonna get anything out of this other than "I am having fun for a bit". I seem to be chronically unemployable already, and since the state of the animation job market is basically in the gutter at the moment, I've basically got no option to make a living. Ended up changing majors too, so it just feels like I wasted all that time and am starting from scratch (even though there are still classes I took that counts for Biology lol). It's fine for now, I suppose, but every year I continue living with my parents is a year of independence and having an actual adult life forever lost. It's not like this place is great for my mental health either, especially since my parents don't really believe in all that :*) This probably doesn't even matter to most people either and that's the worst part. A good like 90% of my anxiety/depression issues are time/age related and my circumstances are just perpetuating those. And it's easier to go "I will not think about this and just relax :)" than to actually be able to do that. Really sucks that life is so extremely short and most of that time I'm in mental anguish about how short it is meanwhile my brain drains all the energy from me stopping me from being able to make use of limited time. Perhaps I should switch from getting into veterinary stuff and switch to Human Medicine so I can cure aging and perhaps make Football 17776 real....... Last thing, I promise. It's probably the most boring thing here anyway it's the typical "I want irl connections!! I want friends I can be with regularly!! I want a partner again!!" I would be fine without these if I was doing well on the art front. You know, I'd be fine sacrificing social life if I had a stable career(?)(not explicitly "job/work" career hopefully it makes sense) but I have neither and don't see it changing in the future (<--- stupid shut-in)

[bowser-garyopa]

Hi Gary, I read about you from that tumblr post that got some traction, saw your GoFundMe update about creating a tumblr, and wanted to message you!

I am happy to hear you are out of prison and have that freedom back. Congratulations if you have not heard so lately!

Appalled reading about how Nintendo is treating you and forcing your money to them and I am so sorry to hear how severely this impacts your quality of life.

I wanted to ask what your biggest needs are at the moment and also about any disability supports or even creature comforts you are lacking right now? Tumblr is more interactive than most other social media platforms and I am hoping that perhaps people may be able to fill some of those gaps if local or able to ship anything.

Wishing you well and for kind days ahead!

Thanks for your kind words and thoughts about what I might need.

My overall position is alot better than it was 2 years ago, so that is a blessing, as for ongoing needs, it took over a year fighting the local government here to approve my disability, and now its been uphill battle with them to approve things I need to make my life better and more active.

For one, the "wheelchair" i use on daily basis, is not even a real wheelchair, its just a walker/transport combo, but it was all i could afford, and ODSP still has not approve me to get a proper one that would help moving around better.

Also it would be nice if I had a small electric scooter now that summer is here and I am stable housing place and there is stores nearby, instead of having to have uber or amazon or other gig services delivery me things I need, when places like Dollarama is only two blocks away, and still walking or pushing myself there is basically an all day chore just to make it there and back.

The third thing I am saving up for is to have some form at home compression machine that I can use daily on my leg for my lymph issues, it is chronic and it will never get better, but daily treatment like compression helps at least to maintain it and make pain less and would allow me to walk longer and sit and work longer as well.

Other than that, lucky enough the community over the last two years have been very helpful and I am thankful 1,000% for their kindness.

Thanks again for your message. -=(GaryOPA)=-

[fandomnerd9602]

Square Dance: Ladies Chain

Part Two of Square Dance Series

Country!Wanda x Male Reader

You didn’t expect to fall in love so fast on a week long trip, much less fall in love with your best friend’s beautiful southern accented, country girl of a sister. The first night at the homestead was a little awkward to say the least.

Well at least at first. Piet couldn’t really look at you or Wanda that night. He just mumbled something about of all the chances…his best friend dancing with his sister, and then he went into his room. Wanda couldn’t help but giggle a little as you and her made your way to your respective rooms.

Wanda stopped in the doorframe of the master bedroom, her eyes full of mischief and adoration.

“You really are quite a dancer, city boy.” She made sure her accent leaked thru on every syllable. You could already feel your knees getting weak.

“You’re not so bad yourself. Good night.” You say gently.

“Night (Y/N). It was lovely meetin ya” and with that she walked in and closed the door. A small smile made its way across your face and you went into your own room.

You came downstairs the next day to find Piet waiting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. "Hey" he offers you a slight smile, "if you're wondering where your little songbird is, she's out with the horses"

"Look Piet" you try to articulate, "I-I can find other lodging. I don't wanna-"

Piet cuts you off with a wave of his hand, "My sis is a big girl now. She can make her own choices...if she was gonna end up with someone I knew, I'd rather it be you." He offers you a toast of his coffee cup and a friendly wink, "you're one of the good ones"

"Thanks" he give him a little smile before grabbing your own cup of coffee.

You went out to the homestead stable and found Wanda strumming on her guitar. Her brownish-red horse next to her, it's tail swishing as if in line with the melody on the guitar.

(Crazier - Taylor Swift)

You lift my feet off the ground You spin me around You make me crazier, crazier Feels like I'm falling and I I'm lost in your eyes You make me crazier, crazier, crazier

You found yourself lost in the little melody as she continued strumming. Her eyes were shut tight, lost in the composition. It made her look all the more heavenly in your eyes. She was driven by a passion for her music, her songs.

I watched from a distance as you Made life your own Every sky was your own kind of blue And I wanted to know how that would feel And you made it so real You showed me something that I couldn't see You opened my eyes and you made me believe

You lift my feet off the ground You spin me around You make me crazier, crazier Feels like I'm falling and I I'm lost in your eyes You make me crazier, crazier, crazier, oh-oh

She brought her little jam session to an end and it was only then that she realized you were there with her.

"Sorry" she apologized, "pardon my enthusiasm"

"I love your enthusiasm" you sit down next to her. "I wish I was brave enough to do the things you do."

"Aw shoot" she giggled, trying to hide her face from you, "you're gonna make me blush"

"Why haven't you tried going to like...Nashville?"

She lets out a long, sorrowful breath, "I did. They didn't want me there so I-I came back. Sometimes the big leagues don't like small town country girls"

"But you shouldn't give up on it. You're great" you tried to build her up, "If one door closes, you find a window to jump thru"

"Now you're sounding like Piet after Crystal's Pa found him in her room again" she laughs, her infectious laugh caused you to join her for a laugh too.

Wanda rises from her spot, patting the hay and dirt off her perfectly formed butt, "You looking for a ride, city boy?"

"I-I'm sorry?"

"On a horse" she lets out another little laugh, "come on. Let's take a ride together"

The better part of the afternoon was spent riding horses with Wanda. Piet joined you an hour or so later.

The next two days were spent settling into a nice little groove with the Maximoffs. Piet showed you the ropes of living on the homestead while Wanda showed you small town comforts and how to enjoy them. She always took your hand and led you somewhere. Something about small town life just appealed to you. It was far away from the hustle and bustle, it allowed you to slow down and appreciate life for what it could be.

And then came Thursday night. Wanda put down a flier for Ladies Chain Night at the watering hole. "It's ladies choice night and I choose you to come with me" she flashed you a smile.

"You better go" Piet tells you, "Crystal's dragging me to the same night and I need someone to talk to"

"Oh hush you" Wanda exclaimed, lightly smacking her brother.

Wanda couldn't be more excited as she led you into the watering hole. Her band, Good Witch Scarlett was playing softly. You could see her pal Nattie give her a little wink as Wanda led you to the dance floor.

"Alright, this one's an old favorite of a friend of ours" Nattie said, "we hope you like it too."

(You're the Only One - Dolly Parton)

I found out the hard way And I'm never gonna break your heart I know, too late And I don't wanna break your heart Guess I had to go away just to find What I left behind

You're the only one, you're the only one Take me back to where we started from And let's make it now like we made it then This old heart ain't gonna break your heart again

Wanda and you danced to the music. Her eyes, those doe-like orbs that you could never get tired of, just stared into yours. She playfully took your hat and dipped it a little over your eyes.

"You keep looking at me like that and I know I'm gonna be a goner," she warned you with a little chuckle.

"Too late for me" you say back with a chuckle. She simple leaned against your chest. She sighed, just lost in the beat of the song and the lulling sound of your heartbeat.

Nights I lay in bed And your covers wouldn't warm my feet And mornin' found me bitter or a bit too sweet Oh, baby, I had to go away just to run back and say

You're the only one, you're the only one Take me back to where we started from Can we make it now like we made it then? This old heart ain't gonna break your heart again

She lifted her head and looked into your eyes again. "I lied" she whispered.

"Huh?"

"I'm already a goner too, city boy" she looked to your lips. "kiss me"

"yes ma'am" you smiled before taking her chin gently with your free hand and leaned in to kiss her. Maybe there was something in the air, but the moment your lips touched hers, you swear that there was electricity between the two of you.

"Aw shoot" she giggled, "I ain't never letting you go now"

"Your brother's gonna have to lasso me to keep me apart from you" you answered back with a chuckle.

"My lasso's out in the truck" Piet cut in before his gal immediately pulled him away from you and Wanda.

Something felt so right about this moment with Wanda. But yet the truth hit you like a ton of bricks. You only had three days left on your vacation with the Maximoffs.

To Be Continued...

Tags: @lifespectator @ma1egamer @jacenradio7 @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @deafeningsharkslimeempath @konstantin609 @family-house-of-m @kingofthelizardpeople @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @multi-fandom-enjoyer @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @revanshand @russianredassassin @sapphic-s1mp