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#best $60 i will ever spend
pikayay213 · 10 months
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yeah okay. played the epilogue. my merry band of friends and heroes had some tragic undertones but damn. i almost cried. like three times. ok wow yeah. baldur's gate 3 my favorite game now and for all time unbeatable forever
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teememdee · 3 months
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normal guy shedding normal tears over a league of legends event they miss every single day (star guardian 2022)
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rhysazriel · 7 days
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Only Angel [Mafia!Azriel]
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SUMMARY: Azriel's a dangerous Mafia leader, Y/N is his favourite dancer at his strip club. His usual Friday night dance turns into something a little more. (6.2k)
WARNINGS: mentions of the mafia and illegal activities, kissing, teasing, swearing, smut; dirty talk, sexual intercourse, spanking, fingering, lap dance.
A/N: This is a rewrite of a very old fic from an old fandom I was in. I’ve edited it the best I can to fit around Azriel’s character, so I apologise in advance if anything appears out of place :) 
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Azriel owns a lot of businesses. From stores to hotels, to apartments to clubs. To many, he's a man of business, a man of money. To those aware of the world around them, he's a man of the mafia. Powerful and dangerous. Maybe that's what caught her eye all that time ago, the mysterious aura that bubbled around him.
Y/N's been a dancer at his club since it opened three years ago. It started as a joke between her friends. She was fresh in college and desperately needed a part-time job to pay her bills after she was laid off from the bakery she'd been working at. Callie had mentioned a new strip joint opening on the outskirts of Prythian, that it was a more underground, elite sort of club.
Y/N had laughed it off, joking that she'd look into it and then didn't think of it anymore. But after two weeks of job hunting and no luck, she found herself bumping into a group of young women in a restroom at a bar, and somehow snagged herself an interview at said club.
Eria Vanserra, manager of the club, had hired her the second she opened her mouth and her pretty little voice spoke her name. Y/N was attractive, there was absolutely no doubt in that. She had that look of pure innocence in her eyes, but her lips were wicked. 
The girls had trained her up, taught her the basics on the pole. She's grown close to them, thinks of them as her sisters more than colleagues. They're a team, have each other's backs when new customers try to take advantage and hype each other up for when the regular 60-year-olds come in and request private sessions. 
Y/N -- or rather Angel -- only offers private sessions for one customer: The Boss. They met just over a year into her employment, and it was on their first greeting that Azriel took an instant liking to the devilish dancer, and she took the same approach with him. 
Y/N's been teased for it relentlessly; snickers made from a few of the girls that didn't like how much Azriel liked her, but she didn't care then, and she doesn't care now. Not when every other Friday night, he has her booked for an intimate performance in the back room -- the room that's only ever reserved by him. 
It's been a long week. Classes were cancelled due to some ongoing investigation with one of Y/N's professors, and so she's been able to pick up shifts every night at the club. Shadow's is an elite place, and Y/N knows it. It's a home for the best dancers and the richest of men that sneak off to get their fix. 
It's not a brothel -- at least, not primarily. And none of the girls is ever forced into anything they don't want to do. That's one of the first things Eris made very clear. 
You're here to dance. Private sessions are your own choice, and anything that goes on behind closed curtains is your decision. If you want to offer extra services, the club doesn't touch that money.
Y/N's never been one to stray from the pole. She knows her strengths, and she knows her weaknesses. She's strong, it's obvious, but even the strongest of dancers find it unsettling to be behind a closed curtain with a strange man that clearly can't get much outside of what his money can buy.
The thought unsettles her, but she's never let her own discomfort project on the other girls that spend hours in private rooms with a different man every twenty minutes. They're the real talent, she thinks. Inspiring and badass, and Y/N wishes she had that extra ounce of confidence that they do.
Or at least, she used to wish so. Before she met Azriel -- before he started watching her whenever he stopped by. For two years, she's the only dancer his honey eyes have watched, and something about that knowledge gives Y/N all the confidence she thinks she'll ever need.
Because she's the one that gets under the mafia leaders' skin. His eyes are always on Y/N. She's the one that occupies his mind and tightens his pants from her presence on the pole. It wasn't until almost five months ago that Azriel made a move to ask for a private dance. 
He's done it before, many times. He's had his dick sucked more than he can remember behind those red curtains, but never by a woman as captivating and as talented as her -- his Angel. 
Azriel still remembers the first time he laid eyes on her, upon that risen stage with soft lights offering a halo effect on her silhouette. He saw her hips first, her long legs as she wrapped them around the poll and jutted her ass out deliciously. Then he saw her face -- those angelic eyes and sinful lips, and he knew he was fucked.
He remembers pulling Eris to the side, eyes still on her as he asked who the fuck she was, and why someone so beautiful was working for him. Remembers the way Eris told him her stage name, how it had his cock springing to life in appreciation for the way she moved. 
It all seems like a lifetime ago when he thinks back to it. And while there have been plenty of Friday nights that he frequents the club, he's yet to take things outside of the red room. 
And it's not that he doesn't want to, because he does -- more than he wants a lot of things. But Azriel is a man of honour (even in his line of work), and he's never been one to pressure a woman into something he wants. 
But Angel isn't like any woman. Not to him. 
Azriel deems she's by far the most precious thing he's ever laid eyes on, and he has a need to hold and protect her and show her just how a woman like herself deserves to be treated. 
He could give her the world, and they both know it. 
Tonight is like every other late Friday evening. Y/N's dolled up to the nines as she reapplies her lipstick. She's been at the club since seven, and three dances later and a round of waitressing, it's nearing midnight. Y/N's ready to go to bed. 
She's ready to call it a night, to tell Eris she's heading out early after picking up so many shifts in the week. Not only because she's tired, but also, Azriel hasn't shown up yet, and he's never come this late before. 
Just as Y/N is adjusting her bra straps, she sees Mor’s head pop out through the corner of the door through the mirror. The blonde has a wide grin on her face, and she knows exactly what that suggests. 
"He's here."
Y/N rolls her eyes. "He's also late. My shift ends in ten minutes."
Mor pouts out her lips, shaking her head, and her breasts bounce slightly on her covered chest. "But he's asking for you. And stop pretending like it's such a burden. You love when he shows up, and he loves when you dance for him. We all know it. Quit acting like you don't secretly enjoy it." She bites back, stomping her foot to make her point and Y/N spins in her chair to look at her full on.
Mor raises her brows. "All the other girls would kill to dance for him, to have him ask for them. Myself included. Stop acting like a brat and put on a fucking show."
Y/N isn't given a chance to reply because Mor is sauntering out of the dressing room, and she's left alone to swiftly get ready. She pretends to ignore the rampaging butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing him again. 
She's never scared, could never be. Y/N knows Azriel would never hurt her. But, she's nervous. Azriel always gives Y/N his undivided attention when she's dancing for him, and it's intimidating and exciting all at once. His eyes are so dark and calculated, and he's always so damn respectful when she sits on his lap­ -- never wanting to make her uncomfortable. 
Sometimes, Y/N just wants him to take charge. Even knowing exactly what he's capable of, she wants him to take her. Ravish her. Have his way with her. She wants him to completely dominate her, and often, Y/N finds herself wondering what would happen if she riled him up enough to get him to that state. 
If she acted like a brat, would he throw her over his lap and spank her?
If she talked back, would he pull her hair or spit in her mouth?
If she asked for him to touch her, would he grip her ass and kiss her neck?
Y/N's mind swirls with the unanswered questions every time she sees him, and it's getting a bit much to keep to herself. She's getting tired of being a little plaything to him –- not that she has the right to be upset, but she is. 
She doesn't like that he only comes to her every Friday night. To the club. Is she not worth more than two hours a week? 
Then spirals the anxiety.
Is he only coming to her because he thinks she's easy? Is he doing it because he knows he'll never have to do anything more than let her dance? Is he doing it out of pity? Because he thinks she's lonely, so it's to make her feel special? 
Is Azriel even attracted to her, or does he just do it for shits and giggles? Does he go back to his brothers and his men and laugh about her? At her? Is it all a bit of fun to him?
Y/N gets too in her head, and then the idea of seeing him again is revolting. She doesn't know him -- she can't say whether her thoughts are crazy or valid. She doesn't know the kind of person he really is -- despite the rumours. 
But though she goes through these motions, Y/N pushes them to the back of her head and gets on with it. She puts on her smile, and she dances. 
Azriel tends to book her out for an hour at a time, sometimes two hours if he's feeling extra needy or he has the time. And he's generous with his money, too. Typically, he pays double for her time, which is a month's rent for Y/N but pocket change for him.
It makes her feel dirty, but she has to remind herself that actually, this is her job and he does have the money and means to pay for her time.
That's all he's doing -- paying for her time. For her. Like some sort of cheap and easy prostitute that he can go to whenever he needs a fix. And she never touches him (not under his clothes), but it still makes her feel dirty.
Y/N knows what the other girls do in the private rooms; the type of shows that they offer. She doesn't judge them, she could never. They're all in the same or similar boats: broke and trying to make a living, to make ends meet. But none of them dance for the owner. None of them are ever requested by him. 
Y/N takes a deep breath and composes herself. She can't look in the mirror for a moment longer because if she does, she'll start seeing every flaw she has, and she'll never leave the damn dressing room. 
The club is busy, it always is on a Friday night. There's a party in the upper left tier, a few dancers that have been hired for the night and Y/N is more than pleased that she wasn't booked for it. It's a bunch of frat boys celebrating one of their friend's birthdays, and from Y/N's place on the lower deck, she can already recognise a few familiar faces from her classes.
The last thing she needs is for people to know she's an erotic dancer at one of the most elite, secret clubs. 
She doesn't bother questioning how the younger men know about the place. 
Y/N makes her way toward the private booths, and the one to the far right has its curtains closed. She takes a deep breath, knows he's sitting behind it, waiting for her.
She doesn't give herself any time to hype herself up or change her mind, because she's pushing through the red velvet curtain and closing it behind her. 
The booths are all the same. Dim lighting and velvet cushioned seats. The walls are deep, silky pink, the furniture all an intoxicating shade of red, and in the centre of the rounded chair, Azriel sits. 
His legs are spread wide, dressed to the nines in a slick black suit, and his bulging arms are outstretched across the back of the chair. 
He's shed his blazer, has it hanging on the side, his shirt sleeves folded up to his elbows, swirls of black ink coating his dark complexion. Everything about his attire screams power and sex, and Y/N hasn't even looked at his face yet. 
"There’s my pretty girl."
Her eyes dart up, his lips are parted. There's a knowing smirk on his pink mouth, and Azriel's eyes are a glimmering caramel under the dim light. Y/N thinks he's never looked more handsome, but that's always her thought whenever she sees him.
She can't help the contagiously shy smile that tugs on the corners of her plump lips. 
"Little late tonight," she mentions quietly. 
He doesn't say anything, and his eyes are too busy taking in her appearance. He hasn't seen this outfit before; a lilac cami bodysuit, entirely of lace. The chest of it is plunged yet lifted, and her supple breasts look the most inviting they've ever been.
Azriel struggles to wrap his head around the sight of her -- he always does. Always thinks she looks even prettier every time he sees her.
Azriel finally shrugs his shoulders. "I'm a busy man, Angel. Thought you knew that by now." He doesn't take his eyes off her, he can't.
Completely fucking mesmerised.
Y/N shrugs. "Must've been extra busy to be this late." She tells him.
Y/N is making her way closer, her hips swaying with every small step and Azriel's sure he can feel his cock twitch in his pants from anticipation.
"I was starting to think you weren't going to come."
He raises a brow as she settles herself in his lap, his scarred hands–that she’s never shown any distaste to–slowly yet respectfully finding her waist.
"Oh, I always come, baby."
She knows there's a double meaning to his statement — can tell by the smirk on his lips and the tone of his voice. Always a smooth talker.
Y/N decides that if he can play, so can she. 
"I wouldn't know."
Azriel's the one to stop her hips from moving on top of his, and he chases her gaze to lock eyes. She's deadpanning -- void of emotion on her pretty little face and Azriel thinks this newfound side of her is the sexiest thing he's witnessed in a long time.
He cocks a brow. "Playing like that tonight, are we?" He asks, his thumbs pressing into the fleshy skin of her side.
Y/N shrugs her shoulders, plays coy. "I don't know. Are we?"
She twists the question, unsure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but she isn't about to back down from it, from him.
She wants more than just a lap dance. She thinks Azriel does too.
Azriel stays quiet for a moment or two like he's toying with the idea of having his way with her -- of letting her have him.
He squints and tries to look for an ounce of uncertainty or hesitancy. He comes empty, finding nothing short of confidence and desire. But has she thought it all through?
Has she thought about what this could mean? Has she accepted the fact that they may never see each other again -- something so silly because Azriel quite likes the girl, but if he kisses her, touches her -- what if it inherently puts her in danger?
She senses his dismay and offers an ultimatum; one that she knows she'll win. 
"Because either we are, or you need to find a new dancer."  
The threat awakens something in him. Something primal — animalistic. His eyes flash, darker and darker until his swelling pupils almost completely drown out the honey in his eyes.
His grip on her hips tighten, and Azriel forces her closer; lace-clad chest bumping against his clothed one. "I don't want a new dancer." He tells her. His voice is firm, tone even and stable. He knows what he wants, and now, she knows it's her.
Y/N lets her fingers reach for the longer curls on the nape of his neck. She intertwines her fingers around them, generously tugging, so his head pulls back just enough for her to use her other hand to grip his chin. Azriel's lips are parted, eyes hooded. He can feel her breath fan across his face as she brings hers closer.
"But that's all I am to you, right? Just a dancer?"
He isn't sure what she's doing -- whether she's fishing for something more or if she's about to walk out of the booth and leave him panting and painfully hard.
He plays into it, though. Let's see where this is going.
"More than just a dancer, baby." He promises.
Y/N ghosts her plump lips over his. "Yeah?" She breathes, her voice an airy whisper and Azriels got the perfect fucking sight of her cleavage. Reckons he wants nothing more than to bury his face between her pert tits.
He nods. "Mhm, you're my Angel." He tells her.
Azriel's hands reach around for her ass, grabbing handfuls and pulling her cheeks taut. He removes his hand and strikes it back down on her warm, fleshy skin. Y/N jolts into his body, teeth gnawing painfully on her lower lip to bite back her desperate pleads and whines.
Azriel gropes her again, massaging her cheeks and grabbing fistfuls. "My Angel."
His. She's all fucking his.
Her breathing is laboured as she takes in his words. Y/N tries not to let him see how riled up they make her, but she knows Azriel can see straight through any facade she tries to hide behind.
"Well, if I'm an angel, that must make you the devil."
Y/N's words echo through his mind, and his grip on her waist tightens in a squeeze before it loosens. His eyes find her chest, lip taut between his teeth.
"Maybe I am. Tell me, Angel… are you really ready to be corrupted?"
His eyes find hers, low and hooded and full of so much excitement and darkness, he gets lost in the way she pulls him in. Y/N's hands find his on her waist, her fingers gripping over his and his hold tightens again.
She rolls her hips against his crotch. "Maybe that's exactly what I want," she whispers, her lips trailing over the shell of his ear and her warm breath fans across his neck. "Maybe I'm already a little wicked."
She pulls away, nose brushing past his but he doesn't let her put any more distance between them. He wants her close, likes the feel of her warm breath on his face, likes the sweet scent of vanilla and coconut that's splattered on her skin and lingers in his mind.
Her lips are parted, as is Azriel's, and he can see the little peek of her glistening tongue, teetering between her teeth. His own does the same, subconsciously matching her teasing and his length throbs beneath her; something they both feel but neither say.
"If we do this, there's no going back. You're not just a fuck to me."
Y/N's heart skips, her heat quivering and chills run down her spine. So she is more to him... but what will this mean after?
"If I'm not just a fuck, then what am I?" She pries.
Azriel nudges the tip of his nose with hers. A smirk ghosts on the corners of her lips as they brush against hers. "My Angel," he whispers. "My only Angel."
Y/N envelopes Azriel's lips in hers, fingers reaching for the back of his head and they tug at the curls on the nape of his neck. It's hot, fiery. She can feel her soul ignite in bursts of white flames, and Azriel's no better at controlling himself.
His mind is foggy, judgement clouded, but he knows he never wants to live a day without feeling her pillowy lips on his. So he kisses her harder, grips her hips with such force they both know she'll bruise by morning. But she loves it, loves the idea of having him mark her and the animalistic part of Azriel craves it too.
"I'm not gonna go easy on you." He warns her breathlessly through the smacking of lips, but Y/N rolls more rigid atop him; pulls his hair that little bit eager.
"Good," she pants, pulling away. "I want it hard."
Y/N stands between his thick, parted thighs. She lets her mouth water as her gaze takes him in. Azriel's no better. His cock is leaping eagerly in his pants at the sight of her. Perfect body in a perfect set, lips swollen and eyes wholly fucked. Her hair is a mess, lipstick smudged and fuck, does he want to shove her face into his silk pillows and ram her little pussy from behind until she can't breathe.
"You're gonna kill me, Angel." He chokes out through his lust-filled daydream, chest heaving in anticipation.
Then she starts to sink to her knees and rubs her palms up his inner thighs, and Azriel about loses it. He shakes his head, breathing hard through gritted teeth and his hands find her wrists, halting her movements.
He shakes his head as he pulls Y/N to her feet, dragging closer until she's straddling him again. Azriel's hands cup her jaw, fingers tangled in her hair. "Gonna take my time with you, have you squirming beneath me until you beg me to stop." His promise has her drooping eyes flutter close, and her lips parting. Thinks she's the sexiest thing he's ever laid eyes on.
His nose bumps hers, lips touching but they don't kiss. "But right now, I need you to be a good girl and turn around." 
Azriel's voice is stern, commanding. It makes her pussy throb and clench and gush, and he knows it. She nods and moves on trembling legs, turning so her back is to him, and Azriel's hands find their home on the swell of her ass.
There's something about him being so strong and dominant to her that has Y/N a puddle of arousal and submission.
She bites back a squeak as he smacks a palm down on her cheek, her eyes squinted closed while Azriel licks his lips at the way her flesh moves with the force of his strike. "Perfect fucking ass."
Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip, teeth piercing the skin but the slight sting of pain only spurs her on -- makes her even more eager for him. She sways her hips, ass a perfect peach shape as she does so and Azriel grips her hips and forces her on his crotch.
Her arousal is sticky against the lace of her panties as she can feel the thick outline of Azriel's cock when she gets seated over his clothed centre.
"Holy shit," she gulps.
Y/N has heard the rumours, the ones that are whispered in the shadows of the night -- of the one that's half man, half something else.
Now she can feel him directly beneath her, and Y/N's mind is heavy and clouded. "Feel how hard you make me?"
His lips are ghosting across her ear; teeth nibbling hauntingly on the shell of it which sends shivers down her spine.
Y/N nods, breathless and wanton. She can't make sense of anything, but she knows she wants this -- needs this.
"Use your words."
She swallows, shaky whimper teetering on the tip of her tongue. "Yes, I can feel you."
Azriel's sick behind her; full of himself as she strokes his ever-growing ego. There's something about hearing her so vocally express how much she wants him, how much she can feel him that has Azriel seeing stars. He isn't blind, he can see just how desperate and hungry the woman is, but a little verbal confirmation never hurt anyone.
His hands rest upon the globes of her ass again, swatting and smoothing however he pleases. The hits have her jolting and shrieking — they have tears stinging at her eyes but fuck, she wants more. She needs it harder.
"Please," she coos softly.
Her voice is cracking and unsteady like she's walking on eggshells.
"Please." Azriel mimics, voice high and childish, one that has her squirming in his lap.
He spanks her again. "Please, what?"
There's a pause of silence as Y/N attempts to catch her breath. She knows what this man can do to her, how he can make her feel. She knows he'll be far from vanilla, and maybe that's exactly what she wants and needs.
"Please, sir." She breathes. "Fuck me."
Smack!
A shrill shriek tears through her chest, and Azriel strikes his palm back down on her skin. His other busies with his belt, tugging it open and popping the button of his pants. He drags down the zip, a sound that echoes through her ears and sends shivers down her spine.
Y/N looks back over her shoulder, her hands steadying herself on Azriel's parted knees when she sees him. Thick, long... oozing with his sweet arousal that she wants to suckle up and swallow down her throat.
His cock stands tall, smacking against his lower stomach and he's big -- better than anything Y/N's ever had before. Her mouth waters at the sight. She can feel her cunt pulsing when his scarred hand wraps around his length and tugs deliciously at himself.
She whines, eager and needy. Azriel's eyes are on her ass, hasn't even realised that she's looking back at him.
He toys with the lace of her panties that disappears between her cheeks. Looping his pointer finger under the fabric at the top of her ass, he lifts it and bunches the lace in a fist, effectively tugging friction across her cunt as he gets a better view of her ass.
She's glistening, he can see. Y/N's pussy is swollen, and the sides of her lips threaten to spill out of the fabric that barely covers her.
"I'll fuck you, baby." He tells her.
Azriel tugs the lace to the side, her pussy soaked and perfect. He swipes a thumb through her wetness, swirling around her tight hole and bringing his thumb to his mouth as he suckles her arousal.
Sweet. So fucking sweet.
He grasps his cock in his hand again, pumping a few ample times before holding himself at the base and lining up with her sopping cunt. Azriel teases her for a moment, smacking the ruddy head of his prick against her pussy and she whines, rolls closer to him.
With a sick grin, Azriel massages his tip against her hole, jutting softly as he pushes in just enough to get comfortable. A low whine echoes through the room, but neither of them knows who it belongs to.
His hands find her hips, squeezing at her flesh. "But you won't be dancing on that pole for a few days."
Lifting his hips and pulling her down by hers, Azriel sheathes into her at once. Her frantic gasp tears through her lips, and her eyes are wide and watering with complete bliss and pain.
Azriel's gritting his teeth, sharp breath spitting through between them. He can't believe how fucking tight she is, and Y/N is fairly confident she can feel him so deep in her fucking stomach.
"Such a tight fucking cunt, Angel." Azriel's mind is in turmoil, can't quite fucking believe a cunt can feel this good.
Y/N is no better; she's a quivering mess on top of him, her grip on his clothed knees surely carving half-moons upon his skin but if it's causing Azriel any pain or discomfort, he seems to love it.
"So big, feel so full," she whines out.
Her ass is nestled in his lap, the coarse hairs of his pubic bone tickling at her supple skin and Y/N rolls her hips experimentally against his. He's still gripping her hips as she moves, her cunt clenching deliciously around his length and he's positively amazed by just how fucking tight she is.
"Yeah? Feel me in your tummy, Angel?" 
She's nodding, whining filthily, and she can't comprehend how sex can feel this good. One hand of Azriel's snakes around her body, tips of his fore and middle finger massaging tight circles on her clit.
Y/N's cunt is on fire, swelling and pulsing and fucking gushing all over the thickness of Azriel's entire dick. He's a mess below her, though. He can't believe how well she's taking the entirety of him.
She's snug, tight — warm and fucking soaked. The feeling of her swallowing him up is completely euphoric; has Azriel's eyes rolling to the back of his head.
His rhythm on her clit is furious; strong, tight circles that have filthy cries and moans slipping past her flawlessly painted lips. Y/N's still gripping his knees, hips rolling and pussy squelching.
"Yeah, right in my tummy. God, it's so good. Don't stop, Azzy... please don't stop."
Y/N is a blubbering mess, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack. She bounces quickly on top of him, feeling every vein and ridge of his thick cock as it pounds into her and tears her apart. Her walls are slick around him, desperate to milk him dry and take his sticky cum.
Azriel lets his eyes focus on her ass, the way it's spread just a little and how the imprint of his ringed hands are starting to bloom on her supple cheeks. Azriel's eyes divert lower when he sees it, sees her take him.
Her lips are swollen, clinging to his length as she comes off him. The base of his cock is soaked, the start of a creamy ring forming around him and Azriel can't get enough. He relents his assault on her clit, makes for her ass instead and pulls her cheeks as far apart as he can. 
His hands massage her skin, saliva welling on his tongue and parting his gritted teeth for a split second, he spits down on her puckering hole and rubs the lubricant across her ass.
Y/N keens at the touch -- the welcomed intrusion -- and bounces faster. Azriel's thumbing at her hole, teasingly rubbing the tip of his thumb around her but it has her a quivering and desperate mess.
"Please, please." She pants out, head falling back and eyes tightly shut.
Azriel gnaws on his lower lip, biting back a smirk, but his hooded eyes are a dead giveaway he's having the time of his life. "Yeah?" He rasps. "Want me in both your holes, Princess?" He baits. He knows it's exactly what she wants.
Y/N nods quickly, crying and pleading for something. He knows precisely the effect he's got on her right now, the power Azriel holds over her, (not that he sees it that way, but knowing she's in such a besotted state from him playing with her ass a little, is feeding Azriel's ego tremendously.)
"Now that's not very Angel-like of you, is it? Angel?"
A shriek leaves her lips as the tip of his finger pushes through, immediately enveloped in warmth and softness. She's blubbering, can't make sense of fucking anything and it feels so damn good.
Azriel never anticipated such a reaction from her, but he's got it, and he fucking loves it.
"Who would've thought," he pants, feet firm on the ground as he fucks up into her cunt, completely obliterating her soul, "that my Angel likes having her sweet little ass stuffed?"
A borderline pornographic cry teeters past her silky tongue, and Azriel's mind is keening. She's still as she hovers over his crotch, letting him fuck her however he damn well pleases. His pace is fast, cock brushing every overwhelming part it reaches as he pushes his thumb deeper into her ass.
"Your Angel," she whimpers out, eyes watering and thighs spasming. "I'm yours, all yours. Only want you stuffing me this good."
Her words are drawled in a matted string of barely comprehendible syllables, but Azriel can understand what she's saying.
"Yeah? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, sweetheart."
"Cum! Please, cum in me, wanna feel it."
Azriel curses silently behind her, can't believe how fucking perfect this woman is. His balls feel tight, can feel her squeezing him harder and he knows she's about to come too.
"Yeah? It's gonna be a lot baby," he warns. "Think you can handle it? Think you can take my cum, Angel?"
Y/N nods quickly, vigorously. "I can take it! Please, I promise."
She's despondent, like a child. The need in her voice spurs Azriel to his edge, and as his cock bloats and shoots his arousal across her walls, she reaches her own high of euphoria.
They're both panting, grunting and moaning and whining. Y/N's gushing around his cock, creating a decent spillage on the base of him but even as he softens, he's still quite hard.
Azriel doesn't move, no. He makes no endeavour of pushing her off him. Instead, Azriel slowly pulls his fingers from her ass and cooing at the winces and whimpers that resound through the private booth. He shelters his arms around her waist to pull her back flush to his chest.
They both whimper, bodies spent, and eyes hooded. The back of Y/N's head is lounging on his shoulder when Azriel finally gets a glimpse at her face.
Totally fucked.
A wheezing laugh rumbles deep in her chest, and he reaches for her face, cupping the side of her jaw and guiding her lips to meet his in a messy, wet kiss. She pulses around him.
"You're fucking phenomenal."
Another breathy snicker falls past her lips to his. Azriel pinches her hips. "How are you feeling?"
Y/N puffs, eyes fluttering as she slowly raises, bites back the whine she wants to pout at the hollow feeling of him slipping from her cunt.
"The big bad Mob boss wants to know how I'm feeling?" She tantalises.
Azriel watches her make quick work of pulling her panties back over her cunt, halting his cum from leaking out and down her thighs, but he makes no effort to tuck his softening, yet still majestic, length back in his pants.
He lies back with his arms outstretched across the back of the oval couch. "He does," he agrees. "Cares about you, if you didn't already recognise that."
Azriel doesn't miss how she shies away from his gaze, turning her back to him to alter her outfit and to take a moment to compose herself. He takes the opportunity to fix himself too, before he's right behind her, nosing at her hair.
"I meant what I said, Angel," he murmurs. "You're not just a fuck to me."
Y/N turns, chin raised as she eyes him. Her shoulders are strained back, and Azriel knows she's making this posture move to assert confidence, and he doesn't doubt her one bit.
"Then what am I? And don't say your Angel."
"You're a strong, elegant, smart, badass, sexy, intelligent, confident woman," he begins, his hands finding her hips. "And I want you. I want you all to myself."
She peeps, her heart thumping sporadically in her chest. For a moment, it's like the mind-blowing sex from just seconds ago has been utterly omitted.
"You trust me enough for that?" She asks, and Azriel knows precisely what she's asking.
Does he trust her with who he is and what he does? Does he have trust that she will keep her mouth shut and not see him differently when she learns what he's truly capable of? Does he trust that she's all about him?
Azriel quirks a brow. "Do you trust me?"
Does she trust him with her life, because that's what it boils down to? Does she trust him enough to put her life in perpetual danger? Does she trust that he will only desire her, that he will put her before his work? Does she trust that he will never harm her?
Y/N nods. "I trust you."
Azriel drops his head, face closer to hers and the tips of their noses brush.
"Then I advise you to get your things and let me take you back to my place. Because you're in for a long fucking night, Angel."
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terastalungrad · 6 months
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Sometimes, you’re a comedian with a touring show to promote, so you do an interview with a regional newspaper.
I think that’d be the funniest possible time to reveal a big scoop, wouldn’t it?
Stewart Lee is currently touring, and to promote his Yeovil performance, gave an interview to Blackmore Vale Magazine.  According to Wikipedia, the Blackmore Vale is an area of north Dorset, south Somerset and southwest Wiltshire.  According to the comedian Jake Baker, the magazine would cover his school sports day as he grew up in Dorset.  That’s the level of news you’d expect.
The questions are friendly and easy, from a journalist clearly familiar with Lee’s work and history.
The first question is about the show’s angle.  Lee describes the nature of the show, and here’s an excerpt:
So it looks like stand-up, and sounds like stand-up, but it’s actually a kind of character piece about a desperate person who’s frightened and trying to organise the world in a way that puts them in control. And I guess you could argue that’s what a lot of stand-ups are doing anyway. Ricky Gervais to me looks like a very frightened man. He’s frightened of transgender people coming after him, the act is a defensive wall.
Fun!  This is a Ricky Gervais hate blog, so it’s nice to see a sudden, unexpected attack in an unrelated promotional interview.
Lee mentions Gervais again in response to question four.
Sometimes I become bitter and think ‘I get all this good press, why can’t I get 10 million quid for a TV special like Ricky Gervais?’ But on the other hand, I wouldn’t want that audience, it wouldn’t allow me to be better.
And then again to question eight, where Lee explains why he spends six months running new shows in the relatively small Leicester Square Theatre (as opposed to arena comics who might do 10 warmup shows followed by 60 tour dates).
You can still run it like a club gig, you can interact with people in real time. Also, you wouldn’t get better at the show because you wouldn’t have done it as many times. You can see this with an act like Gervais. Those shows have not been run in, they’re not fluid, they’re a succession of inflexible statements that would snap like twigs if the pressure of an unforeseen event was applied to them.
The journalist finally addresses this head on.  It really is worth reading the entire article - there’s a lot more than I’m quoting, including an interesting story about Sean Lock:
But here are my favourite bits:
[Gervais] still kind of copies me though, which is the weird thing. There’s still a lot of cadences of what I do but they’re used in the service of evil. In Star Wars, he’s Darth Vader and he’s taken the force, which is me, and used it for evil purposes. He was a fanboy, he was actually the booker at University of London and used to book me and Sean Lock all the time. And when he became famous for the Office, he wrote an hour-long act that was so indebted to us it was awkward. [...] If he’d come up through the circuit that would have been rubbed off him because you find your own voice doing club gigs. It took me two years of gigging five nights a week to come through the mesh of things I liked. But he didn’t have that experience in the same way. [...] Funnily enough, in his first show there were bits I’d never recorded that he’d do almost verbatim. He’d clearly remembered them. I went to see him at the Bloomsbury – on his invitation actually – with my then girlfriend and she was very concerned for me. I’d given up at that point due to lack of interest, and she was concerned for what it felt like to see my act being done to hundreds of people, it was quite weird. On the other hand, that sort of did make me think I don’t want it to be consumed into someone else’s vocabulary. And also, I think because he had a residual sense of guilt, he would always credit me in interviews as being an influence – that helped me in 2004 to get the audience back.
This is, to my knowledge, the first time Lee’s ever claimed that Gervais stole his material.  He’s certainly talked about Gervais clearly taking influence from him (though in the past, he downplayed this compared to the account given in this interview).
It’s a pretty big thing to accuse a comic of stealing material.  That’s a big taboo.  I reckon this is partly because Lee wants to discourage fans of Gervais from coming to the show.
Anyway, let’s finish by quoting the end of the interview:
It must be strange to have that level of financial remuneration and those audience figures but not really a single good review. And I expect what that does for you is create a cognitive dissonance where you have to manufacture a worldview by which the whole world is wrong and you’re right. Which can’t necessarily be very good for your mental health, although I expect the money’s nice.
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HOW I’VE BEEN SUCESSFULLY LOSING WEIGHT: Notes from a former binge eater ♥️
*this guide is to show how ~I~ do things and offer advice on how to do it MY way. I am in no way encouraging anyone to do themselves harm. First off,
HEALTH IS WEALTH.
That being said.. this is literally the longest I’ve ever gone without bingeing. It’s just,,, easy this time. Once you get a feel of what it’s like to be skinny you just don’t crave junk as much anymore bc you KNOW it’s not worth it. The trick is to eat clean 90% of the time and allow your favorite treats 10% do the time. Fit them into your calorie limit!!! Here’s some personal favorites that have helped me lose like 20lbs in the past 2 months.
I tend to do one higher- calorie drink during the day (protein shake, Starbucks, etc) and one healthy filling but low cal meal and a sweet snack at the end of the night.
LOW CALORIE 90%
Mediterranean salad (~150): mixed greens, chopped bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, red onion. Little bit of feta cheese. Balsamic vinegar (not dressing or vinegarette!!!!) I don’t add meat but you could totally add chicken for low cal high protein choice. You could also add olives but I don’t fw them.
Chocolate Protein shakes from the gas station (loll). They’re 220 cal on average and a great treat. Strawberry one is good too.
SEAWEED SNACKS they’re literally 30-60 calories for a pack and kill my urge to eat chips!!! Please give them a try!
Soups. Soups that are already portioned and have the calorie amount posted. I add extra seasonings and spice to boost metabolism.
Coffee!! With almond milk and a little coffee creamer. It’s worth the calories if you want a coffee just make one it’s better than going to Starbucks.
Sushi: I’m vegetarian so I get an avocado and cucumber roll. It’s so good with fresh ginger and a little soy sauce. Sometimes I will be craving it allllllll day and have it as my OMAD so rewarding 🥹
Miso soup>>>>>> add tofu and seaweed and onions!! And mushrooms if you like them.
Monster Ultra energy drinks,,,, yeah I know they’re bad for you but I love them.
Fruits!!! I especially love strawberries, watermelon, cherries, blackberries, pineapple and mangoes.
TREATS 10%
Trail mix: dried cherries, pecans, walnuts, pistachios, cashews. High in calories but perfect for killing hunger. High protein keeps you full and muscles strong, high healthy fats will keep your hair and skin and nails beautiful.
Chocolates: SMALL PORTIONS. if you can’t eat just eat a piece without bingeing, do NOT buy a big bag. what I do is I buy a bar of whatever chocolate I’m craving for my bf and we share it piece by piece. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white, hazelnut, with coffee beans, with toffee, fruits, chocolate is the best thing ever 🍫
Starbucks! My fav drinks are matcha lattes (hot/iced), iced white chocolate mocha, caramel macchiato, and occasionally a pumpkin spice latte. Peppermint mochas on the holidays. Oat milk always
Baked goods. Same deal as the chocolate, ONLY BUY THE PORTION YOURE GOING TO EAT. If you have been craving a croissant, go get one. One. Don’t buy a whole dozen of them. You will end up bingeing trust me. My favs are cinnamon rolls <3
Habits
I’m going to the gym!!! Consistently for the first time in my life. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. Spend 30 min on the treadmill alternating between incline walking and easy paced jogging. Put on a YouTube video. Wear pink and bring a cute water bottle. You have to make an experience out of it! I stick to cardio and full body stretches plus ocasional (light) strength workouts w my bf.
I don’t drink anymore. Just 🍃. Alc is so high in sugar and carbs and it’s literally poison bro. I know it’s hard to stop but once you do you’ll feel so much better.
I rarely weigh myself. I’m at my bfs house all the time so I only step on my scale maybe 3 times a month. It’s been a game changer!!!
MINDSET
I practice mindfulness and speak kindly to myself. Basically sweetspo + affirmations to myself all the time.
Taking more pride in your appearance will also help motivate you. You think you’ll still want to binge after you took a full body shower, clean PJ’s or outfit, painted your nails, skincare and makeup done, whitened your teeth and lit a candle? No thanks.
Limit stupid, negative, useless media consumption. Watch things that have to do with your hobbies/ interests and your social media algorithms begin to kinda clean themselves up over time. My pages are all about exercise, study blogs, beauty tips and sciencey stuff. No more drama or celebrity nonsense. Cut down your following!!
Remember you only have one life on earth. You’re young and hot once. Don’t you want to grab this chance while you have it? Unfortunately your beauty is your currency especially as a woman, so if there’s anything I can do to give myself a better life I will. Losing just a few pounds of fat will make the craziest difference in ways you’d never expect. Free and discounted stuff. More people smile at you and listen to what you have to say. Both literal and figurative doors will be opened for you.Clothes fit better bc they’re more flattering when your body is fit and healthy. While it feels good to get validation from other people, the best part of it is looking in the mirror and feeling proud instead of ashamed. The inner confidence that comes from successful transformation………….there’s no other feeling that compares. If you know, you know. I’m just saying,, the choice is yours 🤷🏼‍♀️
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detectivebambam · 3 months
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inspired by a recent post i saw about Kevin Day holding a baby, here's Bam Bam's professional ranking of Foxes and Co. by best to worst at dealing with children:
Andrew and I am always going to stand by this. He grew up in foster care so it's entirely possible he's raised a bunch of babies in his lifetime, but I think he'd by driven by breaking the abuse cycle. if he can keep a kid safe, even if it's only one, he's going to. Andrew social worker au when? anyway. Designated Babysitter.
Laila. No clue why tbh she kinda just gives those vibes
Katelyn because she's a sweetheart. whether they're her kids or someone else's, i just feel that she's really great with them
Seth was very good with kids. babysat his younger siblings a lot, didn't really want kids, but if you gave him a baby he might not give it back
Wymack is scared of babies. The younger a child is, the more fear he has. The first time he held a baby he was like... 50-60. (bonus points if it's Kevin's kid). but he's very good with them. very gentle and sweet
Matt. golden retriever yk. idk what else to say. he's also Big and babies tend to like that. lots of sleeping room
Aaron. he thinks he'd be terrible so he stays away from them. when he and Kate start talking about having kids, his biggest fear is turning out like his mother. they do end up having kids and he is the Best Dad to ever dad
Abby is really good with kids in that she knows what to do with them in the most basic sense. when they need to be fed, how to get them to stop crying, etc, but other than that she's pretty indifferent to them
Jeremy. he's kinda lost when it comes to kids. he'll hold them for a little bit but unless they're older than six he gets bored so easily
Bee. she'll hold a baby cuz they're cute, but toddlers exhaust her. she'd rather spend her time with older kids and young adults
Renee thinks kids are cute, but doesn't really want anything to do with them. if someone asked if she wanted to hold the baby, she'd politely decline. very funny for the Foxes watching her try to interact with a child and realize that Andrew is actually better than her at something
Dan. not great with kids because she gets very impatient and doesn't want any due to some lurking childhood trauma (sometimes i give Matt and Dan kids for funsies, but realistically i don't think they'd have any)
Kevin. 😐 he's. not great. he kinda shakes a lil when he holds them, and holds them so gently that you'd think they were made of glass. he will only hold a baby if he's sitting down. with older kids, he tries to hard to be logical with them which ends up not working. to be fair, he's probably never seen a baby face to face before.
Cat. life or death situation, she could take care of a child. does she want to? no. and unfortunately i think she's one of those "kids are gross and annoying" people 😔
Nicky loves kids! he's just Very Bad with babies. if a baby even senses that Nicky is near, it starts crying. heartbreaking. this gives him the opportunity to adopt an older kid, though.
Alison doesn't care until the kid is old enough to go shopping with her. and if they start crying she's taking them home.
Neil. with Andrew's help, he does okay, but when left to his own devices he bluescreens. no, Neil, a 2 year old can not sit on the table while you do dishes.
Jean would be fantastic with kids, but they all remind him of Elodie, so it's more of a mental struggle than an actual inability to care for a child. if Andreil ever adopt, he likes to babysit
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quasi-normalcy · 1 year
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Which Star Trek series should you start with?
The Original Series: Advantages: + The one that started it all + Has some sophisticated and socially conscious science fiction that has held up exceptionally well + The lead characters all have really good chemistry and fun to see play off of one another + It's what most people probably think of when you say Star Trek (together with TNG) Disadvantages: - It can feel very dated and kind of sexist, particularly in its treatment of women - The sci-fi and social commentary may have held up, but damn it, the special effects really haven't - When TOS is bad, it's really, really bad.
The Animated Series: Advantages: + Basically just more TOS. Disadvantages: - Basically just more TOS, but substituting extremely cheap animation for bad special effects
The Next Generation: Advantages: + Probably the most popular one at this point + The crew is full of interesting characters and they're fun to spend time with + Just really smart people solving Space Mysteries + Socialist space utopia + Geordi-And-Data! + Lots of cool sci-fi concepts and social commentary + It's what most people probably think of when you say Star Trek (together with TOS) Disadvantages: - Although not in the same way as TOS, it can feel dated at times, particularly in terms of its treatment of women and it's near complete refusal to acknowledge queerness - Without wanting to bias viewer opinion, the first season is widely considered to be pretty bad - The series makes no bones about the fact that the socialist space utopia is better than every other society that has ever existed and will reiterate this point over and over again
Deep Space Nine: Advantages: + The most popular Trek series on Tumblr + Has a complete story arc, as well as arcs for all of its characters, including the extremely minor ones + Plain, simple, Garak. The humble tailor. + Garashir, if you're into that + Seriously has a really sophisticated treatment of things like post-colonial politics, anthropology, worldbuilding, and the horrors of warfare + Just the characters in general + Is the only Star Trek prior to the 2010s to even look meaningfully at queer representation Disadvantages: - Has an absolutely massive inferiority complex with respect to TNG and this drives a few poor writing decisions that seemingly exist just to poke the Socialist Space Utopia in its eye - Introduces a space religion and then just slowly turns it into Christianity with the numbers filed off - Seems to think that sexual harassment is just a quirky eccentricity - There's no women in its writers' room, and frankly it shows
Voyager: Advantages: + Probably the clearest instance of found family in space + Lots of really good episodes + Lots of fun new characters + Strong female role models + "Set a course...for home." Disadvantages: - Continuity? I never knew her! - Probably about 90% of Trek's reputation for technobabble comes from this one series - Even less queerness than TNG. - Only like...3 characters actually get arcs. - The first few seasons lean very hard into bullshit fake "Native American" spiritualism with one of the characters - How do these guys have warp drive but can't find any water?
Enterprise: Advantages: + Chronologically the first series + 90% less technobabble + The only series to plausibly frame our heroes as astronauts...on some kind of...star trek. + Still has probably the best production values of any series + Makes alien cultures of the week feel somehow richer and deeper than other series + Faith of the Heart is good, fuck you. Disadvantages: - Oh my god, the decon scenes - Seriously, if you've ever wondered what a "sexy" series written by a 14 year old boy who's only ever seen a bit of scrambled softcore porn on late-night cable would be like, this is the show for you - Somehow feels more sexist and racist than the show from the '60s - Seriously, the POC characters mostly exist to fill seats on the bridge; the women constantly have to undress themselves - Hellooooo, Bush II-era political analogies - Scott Bakula is a good actor but you wouldn't know it from this series - In season 3, they add a tambourine beat to Faith of the Heart and ruin it
Discovery: Advantages: + Noticed the lack of queer characters in the first 50 years of Star Trek canon and decided to make up for lost time + Seriously, the "Bury Your Gays" tally for this series is like...negative two + Just incredible representation in general + Some really good science fiction plots, particularly in later series + Some really fun, memorable characters + It's still running, so it has an active fandom on Tumblr Disadvantages: - Makes Elon Musk out to be one of the great visionary geniuses of history - Not really representative of Star Trek as a whole - The series swerves wildly in tone because of constant, behind-the-scenes churn in the writers' room - Offputtingly grimdark first season - Let's be honest, none of the season-long arcs have actually had satisfying conclusions - Half the cast feels like it's just there for exposition and to be killed for cheap drama
Picard: Advantages: + Has the best dramatic acting of any Star Trek series by a fair margin + Has the best musical score of any Star Trek series + Introduces a whole crew of fascinating new characters + Introduces all kinds of fascinating transhumanist concepts + AGNES. JURATI. Disadvantages: - You know all of those fascinating new characters that I mentioned? Yeah, it unceremoniously gets rid of all of them to bring back the old TNG gang. - You know that all of those fascinating transhumanist concepts that I mentioned? Yeah, it gets rid of those too so that to give us some generic action - Oh my god, someone teach the set designers to operate a fucking light switch - Grimdark - Nossssstalgia - Each season is basically unrelated to every other season - Depends so heavily on TNG that its final season is basically unwatchable if you haven't already seen a 30-year-old TV series
Lower Decks: Advantages: + It has probably the most efficient storytelling that I've ever seen; seriously, it's incredible how much it can fit into a half hour episode + It has a bunch of delightful, archetypical characters you get to know and love + You like hanging out with these people + The ship is kind of crap and you will learn to love it that way. + Basically a sitcom version of TNG. + Has a big fandom on Tumblr Disadvantages: - The art style is pretty Rick & Morty-ish - It takes most of its first season to really strike a good balance between being a sitcom and being a Star Trek series - The main character, Mariner, is kind of unlikable for the first season or so (she gets better) - Lots of callbacks to other series (though always either incidental or clearly explained) - Given that it's the first Star Trek sitcom, the comedy is honestly kinda the weakest part? Subjective I know.
Prodigy: Advantages: + Absolutely gorgeous to look at; the most visually stunning Star Trek by quite a ways + Lots of fun new characters on a cool ship + Gives you clear on-boarding notes to the Star Trek franchise if you're watching it for the first time + Can be watched on its own, but also works as a direct sequel to Voyager and a prequel to Picard (making both of them retoractively better, in fact) + Kind of like the Clone Wars or Rebels of the Star Trek universe, I guess? + Found family in space! The next generation! + Soon to be running on Netflix, so if you already have a Netflix subscription, you don't need to pay for another service + Written for a younger audience. Not necessarily an advantage, but nice if you happen to like family friendly animation or YA. Disadvantages: - *sigh* You basically need to pirate it. Thanks, Paramount. - Has a second season that we may or may not ever actually get to see even through piracy. Thanks, Paramount. - Isn't airing on the same streaming service as all of the other ones. Thanks, Paramount
Strange New Worlds: Advantages: + Basically what the original series would be if it were released today, rather than 57 years ago; all of the cool, socially consciousness sci-fi adventure, none of the weird 60s sexism + Fun, awesome characters you get to like spending time with right away + Incredible visuals + Nifty sci-fi concepts, mostly without the 90s-style technobabble Disadvantages: - A huge cast with only ten episodes a season, so many of them feel underdeveloped - Unfortunately, a bunch of its characters are younger versions of the characters from The Original Series, and they hog most of the spotlight; and the characters whose futures aren't locked in stone are kind of treated as disposable - In general, it needs to spend less time being a prequel, and more time being its own thing - "What if Starfleet ran into the Xenomorphs from Alien?" "Well, they'd probably kill them." "Okay, let's spend several episodes on this."
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reareaotaku · 11 months
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Sick, Sick, Sick
Summary: You and Mike have become really close and Eleven is seething with jealousy Pairings: Yandere! Mike Wheeler x Reader TW: Cheating?, Slight Angst
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It kind of just happened; You and Mike getting close. You weren't trying to 'steal' him from Eleven, but that's how she was seeing it. When you thought about it, you guessed you could understand why she thought that.
You and Mike rarely had any conversation. Maybe the occasional 'Hello' or 'What's up?' but that was very rare. You were both paired for a project in your science class. It was a big project that was worth 65% of your overall grade. So, you two had begun to spend a lot of time together.
But nothing was going on. You were just hanging outside of school on the weekdays. It's not like you took up his time during school or weekends. Until, he did start hanging out with you on the weekend. 'I just want to get this project done quicker, so we have more free time.' You understood and part of you thought it was smart. But then things took a turn.
----
Mike saw this as the best thing that's ever happened to him. He has had a crush on you for years, since he was a kid. Sure, maybe he had a girlfriend, but she could never replace you in his heart. He knew it was wrong and shitty, but he couldn't help the way he felt whenever you were near.
He couldn't stop that light feeling in his stomach when he saw you. He couldn't help the way his cheeks would brighten when hearing you talk. He couldn't help the knots in his abdomen when thinking about you. The feelings were overwhelming and they were starting to get out of control. He knew that Eleven could see it, but for some reason it didn't bother him like he knew it was supposed to. There was actually a part of him that was hoping she'd break up with him.
Thankfully, that moment came sooner than later. He and Eleven were sitting in his room and he was putting some notebooks and such in a bag. She looked at him, confused, before questioning his eagerness to get away from her.
"What are you doing?"
He looks up at her, surprised. He had momentarily forgot she was in his room. He looks away for a brief moment, before looking back at her. "Uh, I'm going to Y/n's tonight for our project. Got to finish all the notes."
"You've been spending a lot of time with her, Y/n."
He looks up, pretending to think, "Huh... Yeah I guess I have. Haven't really thought about it."
She frowns, glaring at him as he continued to get his stuff together.
"You barely hang out with me anymore."
He finally looks at her, really looks at her, "It's a big project. It's worth over 60% of my grade-"
"You've never cared about your grades before."
He rolls his eyes, pushing a hand through his hair, "You're just jealous."
She scoffs, taken aback, "Excuse me?"
"You're jealous that I'm hanging out with a girl that's not you-"
"So what if I am? I'm your girlfriend."
"Yeah, well maybe if you're so jealous another girl hanging out with your boyfriend, maybe you should find a guy who doesn't hang out with girls."
"Are you breaking up with me?"
He frowns, pausing his movements, "No.... But- Maybe we should take a break."
Eleven frowns, rubbing her eyes to try and stop her from crying. "If that's what you want." She quickly stands up, before leaving his room and slamming his door.
----
"You and Eleven broke up?" You looked over the male, surprised. You had never thought they'd break up, because they were so close. They seemed like a perfect couple. Guess everything wasn't as it seemed.
"Yeah. Well, a break, but we all know that's just a nice way for breaking up."
"God, I can't believe it. You both were attached at the hip, especially a few years ago."
"Yeah...." He looks away, trying not to think about it. He didn't want to think about his crush on you. He had liked you when he first met you when he was 10. He remembered it so well; You were a new girl and he noticed you immediately, I mean how could he not? You were absolutely stunning and realizing this he knew you would never talk to him. He was a loser and you quickly fit in with the cooler kids.
"Hey, are you okay?"
He looks back at you, shaking his head, "Sorry did you say something?"
"The billboard, we need to put all the information on it and we should be done with this project."
Mike frowned when realizing your time together was about to come to an end. He liked being around you and without this project you would never even breath the same air as him, much less look at him.
"You know, when I first met you I thought you were mean."
"What?" He looked at you confused, as you put the billboard down and some markers. The bed dips under your weight and Mike can feel his stomach drop. "Mean? Me?"
You look over at him, blushing, before pushing some hair behind your ear, "Yeah. I thought you and your friends were so cool-"
"You thought WE were cool?" He scoots closer to you on the bed, his eyes widened as he points to himself, "Me?"
Your blush darkens, "Yeah. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't think you'd want to talk to someone like me. I kinda thought you would think I'm... well... a dork."
"Someone like you? What?" He rubs his face and you can feel your ears darken in embarrassment, "We all thought you were so cool. We were-ARE losers."
"I don't think you're a loser."
He stops for a second, smiling at you, "Well- I don't think you're a dork."
You let out a chuckle, looking away from him, "Trust me, everyone thinks I'm a dork."
"Why would someone think you, the coolest person ever, are a dork?"
You blush, before getting off the bed and going under your bed, before pulling out a big box. "I hide this every time you come over."
He looks over at you confused, before you pull off the top. Inside are dozens of comic books that were in sealed bags. He goes to the floor, pulling out some of the comics, realizing some of them were collectibles.
"Oh my god? Is this the first issue if Batman?"
"It's signed by Bob Kane."
His eyes nearly bulge when seeing that it was indeed signed by the co-creator of Batman. "Oh, my god. This has to be the coolest thing in the world."
You blush, twirling a piece of your hair. "There's some other comics, like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Daredevil, Some Marvel Comics and Teen Titans."
"Those aren't very girly comic books." He says it offhandly, not meaning anything by it, but when you don't respond he looks up at you, to see that you weren't looking at him and your face was downward.
"Yeah... That's kind of why I don't have them on display."
Mike is quick to backpaddle, "Oh, no! I didn't mean it like that. These are really cool. I've never met a girl that like comics."
"Well, it's not like girls can just walk in there." A shiver runs down your spine, "Those guys have never seen a girl." You shake your head, "We should probably get back to the project."
---
His eyes follow your every movement. You had been quiet since showing him your 'secret'. Though, Mike didn't think it was an embarrassing thing. In fact, he thought it made you cooler in his mind.
"So... Comics huh?"
You don't look at him, just continue to write on the billboard, as he finishes the notes, "Yeah..."
He hummed in thought and decided to ask, "Do you know about D&D?"
He saw you freeze out of the corner of his eyes, before you slowly turn to him.
"D&D? Dungeons and Dragons the RP game where you create characters and play in a fantasy world?"
"Yeah!" He lightens up, forgetting about his project and getting closer to you.
"Nope. Never heard of it...."
"Really? Hmm.... That's to bad."
"Why?"
"Well, it'd be nice to get a new face in our D&D Games-"
"You play D&D?"
"Of course-"
"God, you are such a nerd," You chuckle, covering your mouth.
"Well, you're a nerd, too."
"I've never played D&D before, though-"
"But, I bet you just haven't found anyone to play with."
"Well, I'm looking at an anyone now, aren't I?"
He smiles, practically nose to nose with you, "Yeah... Yeah, you are."
----
"And then she threw it on the floor and it blew out the floor," You laugh, shaking your head, as Mike listens intently.
The past two hours you both kept getting closer and closer, when you start whispering. It was as if you were both sharing secrets that only the two of you knew. It was like you were the only people in the world and Mike loved it.
"Oh? I bet your mother wasn't happy."
Your shoulders tighten, as you look away from him, your head leaning forward and you lean on Mike's shoulder. "She was livid. God, you should have seen it." You take your head off Mike's shoulder and you make eye contact with him.
You both stare at each other, before you both slowly lean in. You close your eyes as you feel his breath on your lips, nearly touching. It felt like a million years before he was finally on you, lightly kissing you. It felt like the graze of a feather, soft and silky. He pulls back, but only by a few inches, before kissing you again.
He couldn't believe that he was kissing you. He had liked you for so long and here he was, on your bed making out with you. If he told his younger self, he wouldn't believe it.
There's a loud smushing sound as your lips collide and mesh together. You feel his slender fingers grip your face as he continued to suck your face. As much as you were enjoying his lips on yours, your mind went towards El and you quickly pushed him off.
He looked at you confused, but before he could ask you what's wrong you ask him to leave.
"What?"
"Can you please leave?"
He's confused and he wants to ask you about it, but you aren't listening. You just keep telling him to leave. He's disappointed, but he listens and grabs his stuff. He wants to bash his head with a brick for his stupidity. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't know exactly what it was.
You frown, still sitting on your bed, rubbing your face. You had no idea what you were supposed to do. Eleven already didn't like you and thought you were trying to steal her boyfriend and she wouldn't be happy if you had kissed Mike. Granted they were on break, as far as you knew, but you know you'd be mad. God, what were you going to do.
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room-surprise · 8 months
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Hey! Fun question, how do you think an in-canon kabumisu confession would go? People keep portraying mithrun as blunt and straightforward about their relationship, but would he be scared to tell kabru in the chance that he'd say no and leave? Is the desire to just be in a relationship with kabru, or is the desire of not wanting to scare him off greater than that? I'm so starved on the lack of post-canon kabumisu content, they make me go crazy
As usual, I'll try not to go into TOO much detail because then I won't be motivated to write fic about it... and I AM planning to write a post-canon Kabumisu fic anon, so don't worry. I'll get there eventually :3
They make me go crazy too 😔
I think Mithrun's a complicated guy with complicated emotions. Even when he was "empty" in the dungeon he actually showed a lot of feelings - smug satisfaction, annoyance, anger, even a little bit of subtle happiness.
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So while I DO think he will still be blunt in general, I also think it's a mistake to assume that means he doesn't feel things and won't have anxieties and insecurities just like any other person.
Mithrun used to be WILDLY insecure, and jealous, and paranoid. He just stopped caring about anything, but if, like the end of the manga suggests, he is going to try to START caring again, he will then start to have feelings, too.
I think Mithrun is intensely aware of his own "undesirability", that's one of the reasons he's BEEN so depressed. Most of his self-worth before the dungeon hinged on being "better" than his brother, and better than other people. Then he looses that (or maybe he was never actually better at all!), so what does he have left? And now his youth is gone too, he's middle-aged and lost his "best years" to depression. He's disabled, he's scarred, he's a bastard that nobody wants.
It's a pretty huge fall from "most eligible bachelor in the empire"!
So I think no, he won't just bluntly tell Kabru that he likes him. It will take Mithrun awhile to realize how he feels, and once he does, he'll be afraid to reach out, so he's going to do what I call "playing silly little elf games". He's going to try and flirt via writing letters and sending gifts, to hint that he likes Kabru.
Luckily for Mithrun, Kabru also knows how to play Silly Little Elf Games (he's an Olympic champion), so he picks up the signals and starts reciprocating, though he's also uncertain and worried that he's misunderstanding. Captain Mithrun couldn't be flirting with him, could he? But... what if he is?
(I will go into Kabru's feelings at a later date anon i promise.)
I think the thing that will ultimately push Mithrun to act is the fear that he'll miss his chance. Mithrun realizes Kabru is a limited time deal that he can only enjoy for the next 60-something years, and he wants every minute of that time for himself, no matter how much it will someday hurt to lose Kabru.
And he also knows that Kabru is very handsome and charming, and he can't expect Kabru to wait for Mithrun to get himself figured out. Someone else will swoop in and snatch that man up, so Mithrun has to hurry.
ALL OF THAT SAID... I think their confession is a lot less of a confession, and much more "we have both been picking up these signals of interest for months/years, and finally one of us pushes it a little bit further than we've ever pushed it before and we acknowledge the unspoken thing that has been growing between us."
Maybe it's a hand resting on someone's leg, or a gentle touch on the arm. Maybe it's leaning in so their shoulders touch. Maybe it's looking into each other's eyes a little bit longer than normal.
Probably it involves both of them admitting "Spending time with you makes me happier than anything else in the world. Whenever we're apart all I think about is when I'm going to see you again. I spend hours composing letters to you in my mind. I want us to spend our days together, no matter what shape that takes."
It's very vulnerable and scary for both of them, and I think they're both DEEPLY relieved after they finally get it out, and they don't get rejected. They know each other so well, and they're so good at reading people - they both thought that the other might feel the same way, but it's so scary to take that leap of faith and hope that they're right.
And just for the record, I think that Kabru worries about if Mithrun will be interested in sex or not, because sex is something that matters to Kabru, but what if Mithrun just doesn't have any desire for it?
And so before they get into a relationship Kabru has a long hard think about it, and decides that even if they never have sex, he wants to be in a romantic relationship with Mithrun anyway, because just being around him makes him feel happy, and understood, and like he isn't alone anymore. There's someone who sees him as he is, all the good and the bad, and says "I love you anyway."
And Kabru decides that he's willing to just jerk off for the rest of his life if that's the price of this relationship that he wants.
Luckily for Kabru, I think Mithrun does want to have sex with him, but I like to think that Kabru thinks through all the possibilities and decides that no matter what they end up doing together, being with Mithrun is worth it.
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hotvintagepoll · 7 months
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Propaganda
Gale Sondergaard (The Cat and the Canary, The Mark of Zorro)—She is so deliciously sinister in the Cat and the Canary it’s hilarious and ridiculous and she’s so gorgeous too! Incredible performance
Joan Crawford (Dancing Lady, Mildred Pierce, The Women)— God, where do I start!!! Her face is so UNIQUE and compelling and stands out so much. I love her thick brows and high cheekbones. She has a school-marmy hardness too her that makes her a little scary and therefore sexy. Her low thick voice also does it for me. Despite being an unusual looking woman with an unusual face, she never loses her glamour. Just a gorgeous talented actress, AND she was some sort of gay!!!
This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Joan Crawford propaganda:
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I just love women that are very mean.
she was a smoke show in every decade, from the 20s to the 60s.
The classic matronly beauty with amazing eyebrows
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of course there's a space for MILF joan but i want to just take a second and say she was so cute in her early movies (like grand hotel and the women)! those parts often get forgotten but her stardom shines in them just as much as in her older #queen #icon roles
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Misremembered for wire hanger hatred, this original screen queen mastered the art of the comeback and refused to let Hollywood toss her aside as she aged. The term “auteur” is usually revered for directors or writer-directors, but most critics have one actor they’ll give that title to as well: Crawford—anyone who knows classic movies already has a “Crawford picture” in their head. She knew how to style herself and promote herself. She made herself a star and kept herself fixated in the Hollywood firmament. What’s hotter than knowing just how hot you are?
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(don’t think about Mommie Dearest right now) Joan was known for being super nice to all the like crew of the movies she worked on and she’d get everyone gifts. Joan would hold movie nights at her house and knit at the back of her home theater. Joan was sooo obsessed with other women including Greta Garbo, whos dressing room she would obsessively and purposefully walk by. She said that while working on Grand Hotel, Garbo grabbed her face and “if there ever was a time in my life where I would’ve been a lesbian, that was it.” But like Joan also probably did sleep with women including Barbara Stanwyck. Joan was so obsessed with Bette Davis, screening multiple movies of hers in a day at her watch party, constantly trying to spend time with her or do a movie together, insisting on the dressing room next to hers at Warners and sending her daily gifts… etc. Once Bette said that sex was gods joke to humanity and Joan said “I think the joke is on her.” Joan fucked a lot. Joan got caught publicly fucking a man and sent a letter to the woman who saw them basically saying “I bet it excited you” and the woman was like you know what. It did. Joan was best friends with a gay man. Joan was an actually genuinely good actress even though people mocked her a lot for being like cheap and stupid (partially because she never finished school because her family was broke). Joan was so insane and so cool that’s all.
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808airsoftbros · 6 days
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Protective Scale of Vampire IVE
Author: Some Vampire concepts I came up with and if you want to check out more of my Vampire content check out my Masterlist
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Rating on scale of 100...
An Yujin (Alpha)
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Score: 100/100
Why?: Yujin, the Alpha of the IVE sister clan, oversees everything that goes on, protects you with her life, and will sacrifice herself if necessary. She wouldn't even allow you to go outside the world as she knows well how fucked society has become over the years and doesn't trust anyone but her Vampire sisters. She'd kill and threaten anyone that dare gets too close or even make eye contact and have strict rules you must follow without question because well... Yujin knows best.
Kim Gaeul (Enforcer)
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Score: 100/100
Why?: Gaeul is just about the same as Yujin though a bit older by a shy 100 years, her parenting style is quite controlling than your typical human parenting, Gaeul always wants to know where you are at all times otherwise she will get worried, she is quite the mother of the clan and you are her most prized possession and doesn't want anyone snatching you away from her and she'd never forgive herself for losing you.
Jang Wonyoung
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Score: 60/100
Why?: Wonyoung is quite laid back compared to the rest of her sisters, though that doesn't mean you can just go out and party with random strangers at night. Nope, Wonyoung does have her limits on your free time, she'd prefer going out with you more and loves to spend quality time with you, Wonyoung always tends to crave your attention and love as she'd given you ever since you were an infant. Wonyoung always wants to keep you company no matter where you go to ensure your protection and no evil human tries to kidnap you.
Naoi Rei
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Score: 90/100
Why?: Being a Japanese Vampire, in her own culture of origin, she takes pride in her parenting duties, and keeping you safe is one of them... Even if she is seen as overprotective and overbearing but she doesn't care one bit about what others think. Who are they to talk about how she raises you as she sees fit? They don't know the sacrifices and hardships she had to go through to ensure your happiness and well-being.
Kim Jiwon (Liz)
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Score: 85/100
Why?: Liz though is quite protective of you, she wants you to learn to solve problems on your own though she will step in if she sees that it's too much for you to handle alone. However, she'd never allow clubbing, drinking, or anything that can get you seriously hurt, not to mention that people will take advantage of you as she was a victim of it once and she doesn't want the same happening to you. Liz would follow you around wherever you go and would be cautious of whoever you interact with making sure they don't have sinister intentions.
Lee Hyunseo (Leeseo)
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Score: 95/100
Why?: Leeseo may be the youngest of the clan but that doesn't mean she's naive and inexperienced enough not to take her duties seriously, Leeseo always puts your safety and well-being first before her own. Leeseo always checks on you often making sure you are safe and not doing anything foolish that can get you hurt as she cannot bear the thought of you getting injured. She wouldn't hesitate to discipline you as she sees fit to ensure you don't do break her rules again.
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minustwofingers · 2 years
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exoplanet p. 4.5
second half of exoplanet part 4!
pairing: ellie williams x reader
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summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf
warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much. 
a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4.0 (first half of this part) 
playlist inspired by exoplanet!!
wc: 6.5k
tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower​ 
enjoy x 
Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories. 
She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.
“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer. 
Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?
“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.
Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.” 
“Jesse?”
“No.”
“Joel?”
“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p. 
Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?” 
Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.” 
“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice. 
You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.
You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay. 
The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.
“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.” 
“That’s really thoughtful of you.”
Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”
“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”
“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam. 
“So we’re going shopping?”
Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”
“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”
“So, when are we going?”
A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”
~
“Where are you going?” 
Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.
“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready. 
“Out where?”
You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”
She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.
“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it. 
“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” 
Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”  
You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.
Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt. 
You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.
The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.
As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase. 
Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.
“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.
“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.
“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”
The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.
Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting. 
There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin. 
“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”
She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail. 
The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.
By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand. 
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.” 
Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.
“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this. 
“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”
Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”
“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.” 
Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”
You blinked. “What?”
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped. 
Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house. 
“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”
“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”
You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.” 
As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling. 
Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.
“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time. 
“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.” 
“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.” 
“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed. 
“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”
You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”
Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you. 
You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.
The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.
It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing. 
Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.
It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all. 
It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.
The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her. 
A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.
You knew what you were getting her now. 
~
Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.
“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.” 
You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.
The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.
“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”
“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”
“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I’m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”
You shivered. “Don’t say that.”
The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering. 
“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”
“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”
7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.
First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”. 
Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.
Last came a girl you’d never seen before.
“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair. 
“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”
“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”
“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.
“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”
Dina cringed.
Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”
“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina. 
“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.
Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?
You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door. 
“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her. 
Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”
“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”
“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.
“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.” 
Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”
“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”
You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.
Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family. 
“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.
“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”
The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.
“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half. 
“Right,” said Ellie, snorting. 
Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out. 
No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them. 
Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it. 
“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement. 
It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her. 
“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.
“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.” 
Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.
“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.
“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.
“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”
Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”
“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.” 
“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”
“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”
“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”
“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.” 
Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out. 
“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.
Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself. 
“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.
 A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.
An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.
The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.
Cat was her ex.
That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.
“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.
“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”
When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.
You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you. 
The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you. 
“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?” 
“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected. 
It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.
Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something. 
You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.
It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.
Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.
For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.
Then she spoke.
“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”
“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.” 
“So nosy,” she tutted. 
“But you do like the rock?” 
She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”
You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. 
When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing. 
“You’re so pretty.”
You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest. 
She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you. 
It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.
Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth. 
When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.
She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.
To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again. 
You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda. 
The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.
“Sorry,” you whispered.
She just smiled.
“Is Joel going to be back soon?”
As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw. 
“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”
“Good party?”
“Yeah.” 
“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.” 
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.” 
“Goodnight,” you two chorused. 
Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.
“That was close.” 
“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”
Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.
“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”
When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.
“Hi,” you said shyly.
“Hi.” 
You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.
“Is everything okay?”
“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid. 
You balked. “Uh, what?”
“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”
“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.” 
“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.
When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.
For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.
It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing. 
“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.
“What do you mean?”
“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”
Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?
“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”
Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.
“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”
You paused. “What? What do you mean?”
Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”
“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.” 
In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 
“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.” 
Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.” 
She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”
“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”
She snorted. “You would.” 
Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”
“I never said that.” 
“So she did make you jealous?”
You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”
“Thrilled.” 
A few moments later, she spoke up again. 
“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.
“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.
“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”
“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.” 
You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”
“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.
“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”
“I feel safe with you.”
“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired. 
“Fine,” you said. “I promise.” 
Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?
In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.
~
When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips. 
You’d never been happier.
As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.
You froze, thinking you must have woken her.
Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose. 
You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.
Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.
She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.
“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head. 
“You shut up,” you heard yourself say. 
Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head. 
“You snore,” you said, quieter this time. 
“I don’t.”
“You literally do. I was there when it happened.” 
She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”
You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.
“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.” 
“I thought it was cute.”
“You think everything I do is cute.” 
“And what about it?”
You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.
“Do you hear that?” 
Her voice was whispered.
“Hear what?”
“That sound.” 
You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.
It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova. 
“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.” 
“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”
“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”
A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?
“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing. 
Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there. 
A lump formed in your throat.
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.
The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch. 
There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.
The lump in your throat grew larger.
“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”
The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.
“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”
You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”
She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand. 
“Oh.” 
It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears. 
HAVE YOU SEEN HER?
There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval. 
Terranovan security. Of course. 
Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.
Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.
COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.
You’d been found. 
final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))
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sweetspidergirl · 3 months
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A Tangled Web (Spider HRT Story)
Chapter 1
“This is stupid. Why am I doing this?”
This question echoed in my head as I sat in the sterile waiting room of the doctor's office, accompanied by the sound of the clock ticking away in the background. Besides me and the receptionist behind the counter, there was no one else in the room. That made sense. With it being a few days before Christmas, who would willingly want to spend any amount of that time in such a depressing location?
A twenty-five year old woman dissatisfied with her life and seeking a new one, apparently.
As I sat there waiting for permission to see the doctor, my mind drifted back to how I got here. It was half a year ago where I first vented frustration over my life to my best friend Elisa, and she mentioned how I might be going through species dysphoria. She then sent me some articles and links and suggested I look into humanity removal therapy, or HRT.
I had been vaguely aware of humanity removal therapy, often referred to as therian HRT, for a few months by that point. It functioned mostly like hormone replacement therapy, only it would gradually change the patient into a human/animal hybrid, or therian. It was a recent development, only having been available to the public for a little over five years, and still had quite a bit of controversy associated with it from various political groups. Despite that, based on the testimonials I read and the various pictures I saw, the people who have gone through therian HRT seemed to be happier now than they ever had as humans. Maybe it would be worth it if I gave the whole thing a shot. Maybe being in another body might help me be happy again.
I glanced down at the blank screen of my phone, looking over myself in annoyance. I noted the long, messy brown hair that I barely made look presentable. I noted the pale skin caused by a lack of social interaction and preferring the light of a screen over the sun. I noted the oval-shaped glasses and casual hoodie and sweatpants that hid as much of me as possible. I was another drop of water in the ocean that was humanity. Even my blue eyes, once bright and full of hope, had started to appear dim and non-descript as of late.
“Taylor Thompson?”
I snapped out of my thoughts as the doctor called my name. Turning my head in his direction, I got a good look at the man who would be deciding my future. He was an older gentleman, probably in his 50s or 60s, with a grey receding hairline and mustache. His thick, round glasses made it hard for me to see his eyes. Grabbing my belongings, I quietly followed the doctor as he guided me to his office. The office was what I expected to see: a small, plain white room with a desk, degrees on the wall, and bookshelves full of books that I would be too dumb to properly understand. On the desk was a small nameplate that read “Dr. T. H. Erian, Species Dysphoria Specialist” in large, clean letters. I set my bag beside me and took my seat, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. I swallowed the lump of anxiety that was forming in my throat. There was no turning back now.
“So, Miss Thompson, what brings you here today?” Dr. Erian asked in a stern voice. One sentence in and I was already having flashbacks to my high school principal. The main difference here, however, was that my answers actually mattered for more than avoiding detention.
“I, um, was hoping to be prescribed therian HRT. Specifically spider HRT.” I answered, trying to remain calm and collected.
“I see… and why a spider, if I may ask?” The doctor questioned as he began writing something on a piece of paper in front of him.
“Well, I think spiders are a lot like me. Most people are scared of them, but in reality they’re mostly just nervous, adorable little beans.” I explained with a bit of blush on my face.
“Any preferred species of spiders?”
“I was hoping to be a tarantula. They're cute and fluffy, and I think I'd look just as good as one.”
“May I ask why you wish to undergo humanity removal therapy?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “I've been unhappy with myself lately. My diet's been awful, I rarely go outside and interact, and in general I just hate everything about myself. My best friend, Elisa Andrews, thinks I might be going through species dysphoria. She works with therians and otherkin daily, so I assume she's right.” I explained to Dr. Erian. I then handed him a folder that contained the paperwork Elisa told me I'd need before being prescribed therian HRT: a medical examination, two psychological evaluations, written support from her and my father. I even spiced the folder up with doodles of webs and cartoon spiders in hopes that it would help my case.
Dr. Erian looked through the paperwork I gave him. I was unable to get a good idea of what he was thinking. His flat, emotionless voice was hard to read, and thanks to those glasses I couldn't tell whether he was impressed by work or annoyed at me wasting his time. I was hoping it was the former.
“Miss Thompson, before we continue, I'd like to ask an important question.” Dr. Erian spoke as he set the folder down in front of him on the desk. “How much do you know about therians?”
“How much do I know?” I asked curiously. “I mean, my best friend’s a physical therapist that works with therians, and I'm kinda aware of some of the legislature that's been passed recently-”
“That's not what I am referring to.” Dr. Erian interrupted. “I want to know if you understand what therians go through, what the process of going through humanity removal therapy is like and how you'll have to adapt. You are aware that I recommend patients spend some time living as their desired species before I prescribe them HRT, correct?”
“I-I mean… if it helps I have a few spider plushies.” I said sheepishly. I could already feel my luck running out.
Dr. Erian sighed and gently rubbed at his forehead before speaking again. “Miss Thompson, this is a serious life-changing procedure. Once you start therian HRT, your DNA will be rewritten to match your chosen species. You'll never be human again, even if you stop early into your therapy. I cannot prescribe it to just anyone who steps foot into my office.”
I sunk into my seat slightly, bringing my knees just under my chin as I almost curled up to feel safe and protected. “B-but… I was told you can help people with this kind of stuff.”
“I can, and I do. However, not everyone needs HRT. What you may think is species dysphoria could very well just be depression, and what you may need is something far simpler than a complete genetic rewrite.” The doctor explained.
I sat there in silence, barely listening to the doctor's words. He was saying so much when it all boiled down to one word: “no.” No, I couldn't get humanity removal treatment. No, I couldn't have happiness. No, I was doomed to hate myself for the rest of my miserable life. Tears started to creep their way out of my eyes, stinging slightly as they worked their way down my cheeks.
Just as I was about ready to give up and head home, I glanced up and noticed Dr. Erian looking through my papers once more. I was expecting him to scold me again. I hid my face against my knees and closed my eyes, bracing myself for his harsh words to wound my heart further.
“...are you sure becoming a tarantula will make you happy?”
I slowly brought my eyes up to look at Dr. Erian, not fully emerging from my self-made cocoon as I processed his question. What was making him change his mind? Did he believe that I'm suffering from species dysphoria after all, or was he simply taking pity on me? Regardless of the answer, I couldn't let this opportunity slip by my fingers.
“Y-yes… yes it will, doctor.” I responded, almost forcing myself to do so. A tense silence hung in the air for what felt like hours as Dr. Erian stared at me, almost examining me. I gripped the sides of my legs, waiting anxiously for either him to continue lecturing me or for me to have the courage to speak again.
“Well, if that is your answer, then I will approve you for tarantula HRT.” Dr. Erian said, writing on the piece of paper some more. “Considering it's the holiday season, it's likely your pharmacy won't receive your first dosage until after the new year, though.”
My heart almost skipped a beat at the news. I was… actually going to be a tarantula?! “Wait, really? You're… approving me for the HRT?” I asked, nearly jumping out of my seat. “Oh thank you Doc! Thank you very, very much!”
Dr. Erian sighed, writing some more information down on the paper. “As I explained, transitioning to a different species won't be easy. There will be some side effects to expect as your body changes.” He explained, making sure I had calmed down a bit before he continued. “Not all therians will experience the same side effects. Not all side effects will be present at once. Some will show up at different stages of your transition. At the earliest stages of spider HRT, I would primarily expect to see itchy skin as your hair grows in, as well as weight gain to provide material for your additional body parts to develop. Beyond that, you may experience headaches, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, and possible body pain.”
After making sure I understood the side effects I might encounter during my transition, Dr. Erian started digging through a drawer in his desk, and from there pulled out two items. The first was a pamphlet that had “Welcome to your Humanity Removal Therapy” written on the cover, alongside “Species: Spider” and a minimalist illustration of him. “This pamphlet will help guide you through your transition, Miss Thompson. It provides details on a recommended meal plan, the type of environment you should live in, a rough timeline of what changes you should expect and when you should expect them, a full list of potential side effects, and more.” The doctor explained. “I would make sure to give this a thorough read if I were you. I'll also be sending you a digital copy after our meeting. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me and I will provide an answer at the earliest convenience.”
I took the pamphlet in my hands, almost crushing it in excitement. “Of course Doc. I'll definitely give it a read once I get home.”
Just as I was about to get up and leave, Dr. Erian cleared his throat. “There is one other thing I must discuss with you before we conclude here, Miss Thompson.” He said, causing me to sit back down in my seat. “I still disapprove of you not doing any research on therian culture prior to our meeting. So… I'd like for you to interact with other therians while you're taking HRT. It's not mandatory, but I do feel it will not only help you learn about your new lifestyle but also potentially help with your mood.”
As Dr. Erian said that, he handed another item. I took it in my hands and looked it over. Instead of another pamphlet, it was a flyer detailing a therian support group that was close to where I lived. It detailed that it was bi-weekly, and that it was open to those on HRT, regardless of stage, as well as those questioning.
“I'll keep that all in mind. Thank you so much for all of this, Doc.” I said, stuffing the papers in my bag. After discussing insurance and other important information to get my prescription set in stone, I left the office and gave a heavy exhale as soon as I was outside. That was probably the most stressful talk I've ever had, but it was done and over with. While I stood outside and caught my breath, my phone started buzzing. Pulling it out, I saw that I was getting a call from Elisa.
“So, how'd it go?” Elisa asked, sounding exceedingly curious. Looking at the time on my phone, I hadn't realized she had just finished with work by the time I finished my meeting.
“Well, I managed to get the prescription, so that's good. You didn't tell me he was gonna be so scary though.” I answered back with a tiny bit of irritation in my voice.
“Hey I never met the guy personally. Besides, you still got the HRT in the end, so it all worked out.” Elisa answered back. “So how long before you start spinning webs and crawling up walls?”
“Well, my first dosage won't arrive until after the new year. Beyond that, well…” I trailed off a bit, glancing back at my bag and the papers inside of it. “I have some homework to do.”
---
NEXT:
Welcome everyone! This is the start of a (hopefully) long-term project I intend to work on. This is the story of Taylor Thompson, a 25-year-old woman seeking a change in life through humanity removal therapy. In the process of transitioning from human to spider, she'll learn more about the world of therians, as well as learn more about herself and what she wants out of life.
I want to thank @ayviedoesthings, @welldrawnfish, @entroart, @bubbleverseart, @nyxisart, @prettiestplatypus, @deadeyedfae, @kaylasartwork, and anyone else I may have forgotten (there's a lot of people I'm so sorry ><) for creating the world of therian HRT and creating such a community, as well as my fiancé for showing them to me and for inspiring me to give my own version a try. I can't say when the second chapter will be done, so just keep your eyes open, and I hope you all will join me on this long, wild ride.
Thank you so much in advance.
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cravingpepsimax · 22 days
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Headcannons for teen stancest? I see it as more fluff then smut but I’m curious on what others think
teen stancest is something i find interesting, but not in the way most people do.
i think teen stancest is a lot of unknowing pining. i think stancest is like that in general, but especially as teens. they’re already terrible at dealing with emotions as senior citizens — imagine having to deal with gay incestuous feelings during the 60s-70s without having a fully developed frontal lobe. yikes!
i don’t think either of them would realize how they feel for the other at this age, but if either of them did, it’d be stan who realizes, not ford. ford has poor emotional self-awareness as a grown man — have you ever met a teenager with good emotional self-awareness? plus, teen ford has zero play. teen ford would absolutely take any weird feelings about stan entirely at face-value because the thought of him feeling that way about a man, much less his BROTHER, is unthinkable. yeah, sure, he might get butterflies in his stomach around stan, but that’s just because he wants to impress his cool brother. sure, ford might feel weirdly upset whenever stan talks about his newest girlfriend (god forbid ford sees them), but that’s just because he wants to make sure she treats his brother right! any actually romantic thoughts ford has are immediately surpressed and justified as his overactive brain throwing weird thoughts at him.
stan, on the other hand? i don’t think he’d realize either, but if either of them do at this point, it’d be stan. stan is very familiar with what attraction feels like. on the one-off chance he doesn’t immediately shut down any gay incest thoughts with a “nope not supposed to do that ❌❌❌❌”, i could actually see him realizing, and then promptly freaking the fuck out because oh my god how do you even address this. being attracted to a man is bad enough, but your BROTHER? i could see stan responding by going the complete opposite direction and trying his damndest to get ford a girlfriend so that stan couldn’t even imagine he has a chance. stan would probably get even more into the dating scene to distract himself, too. he doesn’t want to spend less time with ford by any means, but he has to get rid of these thoughts. not even for society at large, for ford’s sake — he’d believe ford wouldn’t reciprocate, and even if he did, ford gets bullied enough for being a six-fingered nerd, dating his own brother would make that even worse if anyone ever found out! stan is protective over his family, especially ford, and he wouldn’t want to risk anything.
if stan did confess, ford probably would freak out. be taken aback at best. again, this is ford we’re talking about. as a teenager. i don’t think he’d start hating stan or whatever, but i do think he’d reject stan and just pretend nothing ever happened (while also wondering if he should’ve said yes because he does love stan, but also would panic thinking he can’t, there’s no way he ever could. ford thinks he’s logical, but when he feels strong feelings, he justifies acting on them as if they were logical. ford’s really scared of ruining his relationship with stan, scared of being treated as even more of a pariah, but he justifies acting on these fears by lying to himself — he’s not paralyzed by fear, it’s just the Rational Thing To Do).
and then the science fair incident happens and oh god does the pining get worse especially if stan confesses. goddamn
so. yeah. unfortunately the exact opposite of fluff then smut lmao, this is very much an angsty pining mess for me. this is one of those instances where their complete lack of emotional self-awareness is a positive because i cannot for the life of me imagining either of them dealing with it well at this age
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blushy-tigerrr · 1 month
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story time with tiger!
so, as you know from my post earlier, i was blessed to be able to spend the past six days with @applesyaboi :3 it has truly been the time of my life getting to hang out with this lovely human for so long, and as i’m writing this post while waiting in the airport to fly back home, i already miss him so much.
the whole story is under the cut if you’re interested in reading, but before we get into that, we did make content :3 but i will be waiting to share them as a celebration for reaching 400 followers as i am only 10 away from that amazing milestone!
anyway, here’s the story <3
let’s start at the beginning: may 30th. apples and i had been chatting and becoming very close friends for about a month when we really started talking about the idea of us meeting up and spending some time together. we had talked about it in a hypothetical sense a bunch, but this was when the actual planning happened. we both determined that august would be the best month, and we then decided on august 8th-13th! it worked out really nicely with my job and him moving into his own apartment a little bit before then. shortly after that, i bought my ticket on june 8th.
and then the waiting began.
let me tell you, that was the roughest part, second only to having to leave today. i went through some really tough stuff during that waiting period, and apples was constantly there as a support system for me through anything and everything. that made me all the more excited to get to see him and thank him in person for how much he had done for me.
after a very long 60 days of waiting, the day finally came. i got to the airport ridiculously early in the morning and boarded my plane with little issue. luckily for me, apples was awake when i was on the plane waiting to take off, so we got to chat for a little the morning of! and it was mostly just “AHHH OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING!!!” messages hehe
once my plane landed, i got my bag and waited at the exit for him to pick me up. once i saw his car pull up, my heart dropped in the best way. when i saw his face through the car window, my heart started pounding and i almost was scared to move, but this silly goose made a little beckoning motion to me and i broke out of that easily. when we hugged for the first time, i felt all of my stress melt out of my body completely. he gives some of the best hugs ever <3 and that was just the first of many
we were both a little nervous still on our drive to his place, but the nerves dissipated pretty quickly. we got to his apartment, i got to meet his cat, and then we laid down to snuggle for a bit. we were snuggled with the intent on taking a nap, but i’m sure no one is surprised to know that’s not what happened right away. he had his hand on my side and asked if i minded if he tickled me a little bit, and i told him i didn’t mind of course. he was so sweet and gentle and showered me with compliments the entire time. he’s very good at making me feel beautiful and loved and also very good at tickling oh my god he’s so teasy and constantly got me so flustered
then, because i’m a switchy little shit, i asked him the same question. he said it was okay, and guys. for as teasy of a ler as apples is, he is also soooo ticklish!! he’s super squirmy and flinchy, and his giggles are some of the cutest that i’ve ever heard <3 he told me a while ago he had never been tickled before, so i did my best to be very gentle and careful with not pushing it too far by checking in and making sure he was still having fun and was okay. he did the very same thing for me, and i greatly appreciated it.
we also tried out a few tools while i was there! none of them worked on him (scam) except for the pursonic, but that only worked in one spot for him. for me, though? that thing is the devil. it tickles so badly in just about every spot you can think of. i think apples is just broken lol <3 we also tried feathers and makeup brushes which were suuuuper effective on spots like my ears and neck and behind the knee (mean), but all of that was incredibly fun!
of course, that’s not all we did in those six days although it was majority. we also went out for food a few times, went to a sports game, and went on multiple walks around the area. however, i think the only thing we may have done more than tickle each other was snuggle together. and that? was so nice. like i said before, he made me feel so comfortable so quickly, and because of that, we were able to be so snuggly the entire time which i know we were both very grateful for.
as i’m sitting at my gate writing this all out, it’s really sinking in how much fun this all was for me and how lovely it was to have a break from regular life for a while. it was definitely very needed for both of us. apples, thank you so so much for having me these past six days. you’ve truly made me happier and more relaxed than i’ve been in an incredibly long time. it’s been so lovely to get to laugh with you and snuggle with you and just be around you for this time. thank you for being so sweet and loving and kind and understanding, and thank you for being one of the best friends that i have ever had in my entire life. i love you so so much /p <3
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Reading "changes" kinda make me want to request a fic when reader and Casey were in their 50s or 60s and talking about the silly little things they used to do when they were younger when they went for a little trip out of country for retirement or something.
Getting Older, Too
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Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, getting older, changes in ability (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.5k
Summary: You and Casey, now retired, are vacationing in Jasper National Park, but you find that your bodies aren't quite as capable as they used to be.
NOTE: For any who don't know, Jasper National Park has just experienced a devastating wildfire. I went hiking in Jasper in 2022, and it's truly one of the most beautiful places I've ever been, so I wanted to pay tribute here.
You shivered against the morning chill as you looked out over the Athabasca River, a light fog coming off of it, pinpricked by early morning sun. Decades later, and you still couldn’t manage to sleep in like Casey did, even on vacation. It was colder here in Jasper National Park than you’d expected, though it often warmed considerably by midday.
You groaned as you lowered yourself into an Adirondack chair, wishing you’d brought more than a sweatshirt to keep warm out here. But you didn’t want to go in and wake up Casey, either. She would never admit it, but she tired more easily than you these days. She was, after all, almost ten years older than you. And neither of you were spring chickens. She’d retired last year, finally, but still freelanced on the side. But one of the perks of both of you being in retirement was that there were now no limits to your vacations. You’d already spent two weeks in Banff and had decided to extend your trip into Jasper and drive the Icefields Parkway.
But Casey was tired, bone tired, you could tell. You’d gotten some good hikes in, but she’d pushed herself too far yesterday. She’d insisted you go to all six bridges along the Maligne Canyon loop, even though the sixth bridge added a solid 2.5 miles round trip. You’d made it, but you’d both been exhausted by the end, and Casey had conked out in bed before you even had dinner and had been asleep ever since.
You shook your head and smiled to yourself thinking about her. Fiery, stubborn Casey. Just as hard-headed as she’d been when you met her playing rec league softball 29 years ago. Her hair was gray now instead of red, but just as pretty, as you told her again and again. It wasn’t that she’d softened over the years exactly. She’d still fight someone if the situation called for it; it was that she’d grown more accustomed to laughter and joy, that she let herself now, sometimes, expect the best instead of the worst. She gave herself time to rest and savor and appreciate things.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of the pine trees. It really was cold out here. You thought about going to the property’s restaurant for a cup of coffee instead as an alternative to waking Casey with the noisy drip machine in your chalet. But then you’d have to purchase the all-inclusive breakfast and damned if you were going to spend $25 to get a cup of coffee and a croissant.
“You’re up early,” Casey observed, coming into view, her voice still rough with sleep.
“No, you’re up early,” you argued, smiling softly at her. “I’m always up at this time.”
“Here, take this,” she said, handing you a steaming mug of coffee.
“God, I love you.”
“Wait! This one too.” Casey handed you another cup of coffee and you looked at her, confused. “Now lift your arms up.”
“Why?” you asked, but obliged, trying not to spill from either coffee mug.
She grabbed a blanket from over her shoulder and tucked it around you so that only your head and arms peeked out, then settled herself in the chair next to yours with her own blanket.
“Okay,” she said, getting comfortable, holding out her hand for her coffee.
You beamed at her. “You really are the love of my life, you know that?”
She sipped from her mug and patted your hand. “It’s been thirty years, honey. I should hope so.”
She groaned a bit in her seat, wincing as she shifted her weight.
“You alright?” you asked. When she didn’t answer, you raised your eyebrows and leaned toward her. “Hmm… you know, one might think that maybe, just maybe, you overdid it yesterday? Even though your beautiful, smart wife said during the hike, ‘Casey, my love, you seem tired. Maybe we shouldn’t do all six bridges.’”
Casey shot you an amused glare. “You know, it’s incredible that my beautiful, smart wife, after thirty years in New York, still can’t dress appropriately for the weather and would, likely, freeze to death without me.”
“Touché.” You shrugged.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffee, enjoying the early morning sun and the quiet and the gurgling of the river below you.
You took Casey’s free hand and ran your thumb in circles over the wrinkles there. She’d been so self-conscious of them when they started to show, but you told her they were beautiful, like the rings of a tree trunk. They showed her growth and what she’d been through, and you loved them.
“Are you really okay, though?” you ventured.
She shrugged. “I’m pretty sore, but I’ll be alright.”
“We don’t have to hike today. We could just take it easy.”
Casey shook her head. “I don’t want to miss it. We only have so much time here, you know? When in Rome… or Jasper, I guess.”
“Hey,” you said, struggling against the chair so you could sit up and place your hand on Casey’s cheek. “The trails will still be there tomorrow. If your body needs to rest, we should rest. I’m sore, too. I’m not gonna be mad about a day lounging around in the mountains with you.”
Casey still didn’t look convinced.
“We could go to the hot springs, we haven’t been there yet. Or to that fancy hotel spa and get massages…” you suggested.
Casey scoffed. “You hate massages.”
“I do, but you’re sore, so…”
Casey sighed, taking another sip of coffee and squeezing your hand. “I just don’t want to hold you back, honey,” she said quietly.
“Are you kidding me!?” You gestured toward the mountains in front of you, the river, the forest. “Casey, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here. I’d be too scared to go alone. You don’t hold me back, love. You move me forward.”
Casey looked like she might cry. “I hate getting old sometimes,” she muttered.
You wished so badly that Casey could see herself the way you did–strong and capable and brave and full of life. Yes, it was hard to grow old. Yes, it was frustrating that your body–and hers–could no longer do all the things they’d done before. But it had been in exchange for a life truly worth living–and you were still living it!
“Do you remember our first hike together?” you asked her, trying to lighten her mood. “When we went camping in the Catskills with your parents?”
She cracked a smile. “Yeah. God, you were so scared.”
You’d happily be the butt of the joke this morning to get Casey out of her head. “Okay,” you protested playfully. “Well, in my defense, we did get lost.”
Casey’s eyes lit up, the way they always did before she laughed. “We weren’t lost. I took us on an alternate route.”
“An alternate route!?” You’d had this argument so many times that it was like reading a script, like watching a favorite comedy over and over again or the well-worn pages of a favorite book. “To the side of the highway where we had to call an Uber to take us back to the campsite?”
She chuckled and shrugged. “I got us back, didn’t I!?”
“God!” you exclaimed, feigning frustration even as you grinned ear to ear, even you as you held her face in your hands. “You were such a stubborn asshole. You’re still a stubborn asshole.” You sighed, rubbing your thumb over her dimpled cheek. “Look, today’s hike was gonna be at Maligne Lake, right?”
She nodded, sadness briefly overtaking her face again.
“I’m pretty sure they have a boat tour,” you continued. “Why don’t we do that instead?”
Casey looked like she was ready to fight you on it, so you leaned forward and kissed her, in love with the little noise of surprise she made, as if it was your first kiss again and not your ten thousandth.
“Please?” you needled as you broke apart, giving her your most convincing smile and biggest eyes. “For me?”
Even before she kissed you again, you could tell you’d won her over. She patted your cheek. “For you. Not for me,” she insisted, holding onto your hand as she sipped her coffee.
You smiled and held your coffee close to your chest. So stubborn, your wife. Stubborn and passionate and beautiful and funny and everything you’d wanted in a partner and more. You’d spent almost thirty years of your life–a full half of it–with Casey. You knew she was struggling with getting older, and you knew there’d come a time when you’d struggle, too. But right now, you were just excited. Excited for whatever future you had left, the years of uninterrupted joy and travel and fun. The big moments and the little moments together. It could only get better from here and, god, it was already so good.
“I love you, Case,” you whispered, your voice breaking through the quiet sounds of nature that surrounded you.
She lifted your hand and brought it to her lips, and no words were needed.
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