#but i can't give everything away at once!

[giamee]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!

... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.

you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.

it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.

he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.

it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.

your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.

and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.

you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.

he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.

it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.

he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.

hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.

and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.

you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.

and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!

if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.

he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.

you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.

once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.

despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.

he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.

it'll help in the exam.

you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.

he'll be damned if you don't get an A.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.

in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.

and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.

and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.

he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.

"it's ok to take a break, honey."

you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.

"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."

you shake your head.

"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"

he feels you nod against his chest.

"ok, then let's do that."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3

[annwrites]

you're my girl and i'm your man

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & billy go sight-seeing after you make up. he then teaches you how to drive his car a bit. afterward, you go back to the motel & have your first time (which doesn't go exactly as planned initially).

— tags: billy groveling a bit. billy being sweet on you again. billy letting someone else touch his car. billy being the first one to touch you.

— tw: eating, drinking, sex

— word count: 5,586

— a/n: ok, so, i know i put in the tire blowout post that they were right near the tx border & after '10 hrs of driving' they'd gotten into tx, which is like...did the boy get lost or what lol. but, we're going to ignore that (even if they'd eventually jumped on route 66, it still wouldn't have taken them that long) so they can have a lil daytrip in amarillo.

the 'first time' scene didn't have some big *mutual orgasm* moment bc i've had it planned longer than i did the rest of this chapter even. i wasn't abandoning the oral sex scene idea just to make things ~perfect~ like any other fic would've prob done. sex isn't always like that. it's messy, it's funny, it can be embarrassing. it's rarely like a movie. and that's ok, so long as it's with the person you love.

big texan | cadillac ranch

find my other posts concerning billy here

It'd not taken long, but you'd eventually cried yourself to sleep against Billy's chest. He'd held you all the while, whispering sweet nothings to you, rocking you, giving you soft kisses, promising over and over: never again.

He'd carried you to bed, pulling your body against his, and he'd closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to focus on anything but all the shit he'd forced you to put up with today. He'd nearly lost you.

He had nearly lost you.

You'd been so close to walking out that door. Had made a plan of escape. He'd forced your hand.

He feels exhausted himself, but is now afraid to close his eyes. What if you did it? What you said you'd intended to: leave once he's fallen asleep.

He decides that there's nothing more he can do to stop you if that's what you choose. If you want to leave, he'll let you go. He can't keep you prisoner. All he wants is what's best for you. Whatever will bring you happiness and peace. That's what love is. Putting someone else's wants—needs—before your own.

Finally, he drifts off to sleep, hoping to return to his dream that'd been cut painfully short that morning. When everything was still perfect, just as it should've been.

Should've remained.

When you wake, it's nearly noon and you're in bed alone.

You sit up slowly, still somehow a bit tired, despite having slept so long and you rub your eyes, yawning.

"Morning, baby." You hear a deep familiar voice call a few feet away.

You turn and see Billy emerging from the bathroom, a gentle smile on his face. He comes over, sitting beside you on the bed. "You sleep okay?"

You nod lightly, yawning yet again. Crying usually did take it out of you.

You go to get up to begin getting your things together, until he takes your hand in his.

"You can go back to sleep if you want. I went ahead and paid up for another day."

"You did?"

He nods.

You look down to his large hand which rests overtop of yours. Your brows furrow. "What...what did you mean by it?" You can't just let it sit. You can't sit in unsurety.

He reaches up, tucking some hair behind your left ear. "What, baby?"

"'You're mine'."

"What do you think I meant?"

You shrug, not looking up.

He sighs. "That you're my girl and I'm your man. We're going together, going steady, dating, whatever the fuck you want to call it."

He says it quietly, no aggression, no irritation, just...calling it what it is.

Your eyes finally meet his then. "I assume you expect me to be faithful. Will you give me the same respect?"

He leans down, gently pressing his lips to yours. "Honey, I don't want anybody else."

You sigh. "You've been with more girls than I probably want to know about. And looked at—flirted with—numerous since we've been on the road-"

He chuckles. "I told you before, sweetheart, I did it to get under your skin. To be a dick." He smirks. "It's one of my specialties, I'd say."

You don't laugh or smile at the joke.

He understands. He knows it's going to take a lot of work and groveling and sucking up to get back to where you'd been the night before last.

"Do you want to lie back down, get some more rest?"

You glance up to him. "Will you lie down with me?"

"Of course."

Billy leaves his briefs on as he pulls you to his chest, your head resting atop it, your hand over one of his pectorals. He tangles the fingers of his right hand in your hair, gently rubbing your head, while the other rests overtop of your hand on his chest.

You lie there for a moment, listening to the steady strong beat of his heart. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get a watch," he replies immediately, his lip twitching. Maybe now wasn't the time for sarcasm, but he wanted to lighten the mood even a little.

You roll your eyes, even if it makes you feel the least bit better to be back to bantering.

"I have one, remember?"

"Mm," he hums his reply.

"Did...did it mean something to you? What we did the night before last?"

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. How the hell could he have let you go a whole day thinking otherwise? He had known when you came back out of that gas station that you'd been crying. Had wanted to wrap his car around a tree the worse his treatment toward you became. It killed him to do it, but he'd expected you to fight back like you always had. Instead, you'd just...given up.

"You have no idea what it meant to me, sweetheart. A lot. Before...whatever shit I did with a girl was just sex. Not intimacy. Things are different with you."

He turns on his side then and you do as well, looking at each other.

You reach forward, taking his left hand in yours. "When did you realize how you felt?"

You look up to him with innocent eyes.

He looks down to your small hand in his and he brushes his thumb along your knuckles. "I'm not really sure. I mean, I've felt something for awhile. But I told myself it was just an attraction. A crush. Nothing more. And then yesterday morning, I had this dream..." He trails off for a moment and you scoot a bit closer to him.

"What was the dream about?"

His eyes meet yours again. "We'd finally reached Cali and...we were making love in my car. You kept saying my name. I think I just heard you trying to wake me up. But I thought you were about to say it—those three words. I was practically begging you to. And then I woke up and I knew I was down bad. I didn't know what the fuck to do with that: being in love. So I did the only thing I knew how to and punished you for it. For making me fall for you. Even if that had never been your intention, it happened anyway. It was always going to, I think."

You gently press your palm against his chest, curling your fingers against the warm, tanned skin.

He continues. "Maybe I just woke up pissed off from it because I also thought that would be the only way for me to hear it: in my dreams. That you could never feel that way for me. That no one could."

You look up at him to find that he's already looking at you.

Your heart begins to beat just slightly faster. Then, "I love you, too."

His brows furrow and his eyes begin to grow a bit red.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. He presses his lips to your hair. "Thank you," he mutters.

The two of you fall asleep for a couple more hours and when he wakes, you're sitting up, back against the headboard as you flip idly through the TV channels.

He slides his hand up your leg, between your legs and you look down at him.

"You hungry?" He asks, lying his head on your thigh. "I know I made keeping food down a bit...difficult yesterday." He thinks of you retching on the side of the interstate. How he'd nearly done the right thing by reaching out to you, but had refrained. Stupid.

He sits up then and you watch him.

You mute the TV, growing serious. "If you ever treat me like that again-"

"I won't-"

"Let me finish."

He stays quiet.

"If you ever treat me like again, it will be the last. I mean it this time. There will be no more forgiveness. No more second, third, and fourth chances. I will walk away. For good. I've probably already given you more chances than I should've."

He nods, knowing you indeed have. "I know." His eyes look into your own, hopeful. "So does that mean you do: forgive me?"

You unmute the TV. "I think it's going to take time."

He nods. "I understand." Then after a beat of silence, "Is there anything I can do?"

You toy with the remote in your hands. "I don't mind the sarcasm and joking around. But I need this, too."

He rests his head on your breasts, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I know. I just need you to be patient with me."

You roll your eyes toward the ceiling. "I've been nothing but, Billy."

He smirks. "I never promised that I'd make it easy on you."

Your stomach growls then and he chuckles, standing. He extends a hand toward you. "C'mon, I'll buy you lunch."

You have half-a-mind to be petty and ask about his comment of him 'no longer being your meal-ticket', but are so sick of fighting that you just slide your hand into his.

Billy had stopped at an interesting restaurant along Route 66, called 'The Big Texan', which was quite the attraction. The place was packed, with taxidermy lining the walls, and the interior was modeled after an old western saloon. You'd held tightly to his hand as the hostess led you to your table.

Billy had ordered himself a lager that they kept on-tap, while you'd ordered a glass of ice water, downing the thing almost instantly. The waitress had returned soon after to give you a refill and to take your orders. He'd ordered a ribeye while you'd gone with a fried sandwich. You'd considered a quesadilla, but didn't want anymore Mexican-style food. Not after yesterday.

You glance up to him once you're halfway through your sandwich. "Do...should I pay for this?" You ask, gesturing to your lunch.

He should've never said that to you. Honestly, after he had, he'd sat in the car pissed at himself for doing so. He liked taking care of you— knowing he was the first man to really do so. If he'd let you get yourself your own motel room... He doesn't want to think of everything he'd nearly lost, all due to his own selfishness...cowardice.

He brushes his leg against yours under the table. "No, baby, let me get the check. Let's just...go back to the way things were before yesterday. I know we can't just forget about it, but I want you to ignore all the shit I said. I didn't mean any of it. Okay?"

You nod, resting one of your feet over his boot. "Okay."

When you stand, ready to go up front, you see Billy turn back to the table and grab your water—for a quick drink, you assume—until you feel his hand slip under your shirt and an ice cube slides down your back.

"Oh! You son of a-" You shut your mouth as it slips onto the floor and a few curious eyes turn your way.

He shrugs, expression bored. "Thought you needed to cool off a little," he states, heading up front.

You grab two big cubes, praying they don't melt in your hands before you make it outside.

Once you have, you slip your hands down both the front and back of his jeans. His satisfied smirk is cut short when he hollers, wildly kicking his legs, trying to shake them out to no avail. "Oh, you're going to fuckin' pay for that," he says, picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, smacking your ass.

Your head bobs, forehead nearly hitting his broad back. "Let me down!"

He spanks you again. "I don't think so. You've been a naughty girl and you're getting punished."

"You started it!"

"And now I'm finishing it," he says as his left hand comes up and yanks against your panties, tugging them down your legs. Oh God, you should've never worn a dress. But the heat here was nearly unbearable.

Your eyes go wide and you panic, worrying someone might see.

He slips them into his pocket, the skirt of your dress fluttering with each step he takes and you know your privates are on full-display.

He walks around to the side of the car, grabbing his leather jacket, and comes back around to the front, tossing it on the hood of the car. He finally sits you down—gently—on top of it, and he plants his palms on either side of you, leaning in for a kiss, one of his hands snaking between your spread legs.

You let him distract himself as you gently unbuckle his belt, and then pull it off of him in one swift motion, his pants falling.

You giggle as you watch him grab for them, yanking them back up.

He then looks at you with a raised brow, his palm extended to you. "C'mon, give it. You can take my clothes off later."

You go to hand it to him, then yank it back toward you, smiling.

His lip twitches. "Keep it up and I'll be putting you over my knee with it."

You give it to him then and watch as he slips it back through his belt loops again.

After pulling away from the restaurant, Billy looks at you, foot on the brake. "You want to go see some cars?"

You roll your head in his direction. "Do I, or do you?"

He puts on a pair of shades. "I think you'll like it," he says, accelerating, heading back toward the highway.

"What a fuckin' waste," Billy says, standing beside you.

You look up to him. "You were the one who wanted to come here."

"Who the hell sticks a goddamn Cadillac in the sand like that? You have any idea how much these things were once worth?"

You shrug, not particularly interested in that aspect of them. "I think it's neat."

He looks down to you. "Women. You would."

You walk around one of them, admiring other people's artwork. "Bite me."

"That an offer, honey?"

You walk over to another one, looking over the various shapes and swirls sprayed onto it. Then to the one next to it, glancing inside the cabin, but not much is to be found there. You wonder why someone would stick ten cars in the ground like this. Also wonder whether they harvested them for parts first. It would be a lot of wasted money, if not.

When you look up, Billy is three cars down, a black spray-paint can in one hand, while he holds his t-shirt over his mouth and nose with the other.

You walk over to him and watch as he finishes up his personal addition to one of the vehicle's doors: Billy ♡'s Y/N

He lowers his shirt, looking at you. "Think I could make it as an artist?"

You wrap your arms around his middle, lying your head against his chest, smiling softly. "Definitely not."

Once the two of you are back in the car, Billy slides his hand up your thigh, smirking at the feel of your heat, knowing your panties are still shoved in his pocket. "Where to now?"

You shrug. "We could go back to the motel?" In all honesty, you just wanted to be somewhere with AC again. The car has it, but he always wants the windows down, for whatever annoying reason.

He shakes his head. "I don't want us cooped up in there all damn day." He studies you for a moment. "You want me to finally teach you how to drive manual?"

You look to him with wide eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You've got to learn some time."

"Maybe in an automatic."

He raises a brow. "Plan on ditching me for some city-slicker?"

"You're from California, Billy."

"That's neither here nor there," he states, turning the car over.

Once Billy's found an empty parking lot to start your training in, he gets out.

He walks around to your side, opening the door, leaning down to you and motioning with his hand for you to get out.

You stare up at him. "What if...what if I 'burn up the clutch' like you said? Or I nick the paint or-"

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek. "You won't hurt it, baby. I'll be right next to you the whole time."

You shift in your seat, really not wanting to do this. "Which do you love more? Me, or your car?"

"Don't push your luck. C'mon," he says, grabbing your hand, pulling you out.

Once you're in the driver's seat—Billy having already adjusted the seat so you could reach the pedals—and most certainly buckled in, you look nervously to Billy.

"This feels so fuckin' weird, being in the passenger seat in my own car," he mumbles, also buckling himself in. God forbid you panicked and laid on the throttle and smoked an electric pole.

He prays to God that doesn't happen.

He puts his left arm behind you. "Alright, press down on the clutch."

You glance down to the floor, then back up to him with a nervous smile.

"The one all the way to the left, honey."

You shove your foot down on the corresponding pedal.

"Now the middle one—that's the brake."

You let up on the clutch.

"No, keep your left foot on the clutch and your right one goes on the brake."

"Ok, sorry," you say, doing as he's instructed.

"Now, turn the key in the ignition while keeping your feet where they are."

With a slightly shaking hand, you do and the car roars to life.

He points to the shifter. "This car is a standard-h. There's only four gears. The 'r' stands for reverse."

You cock your head to the side. "I know that."

"Don't get smart with me right now." He continues. "Now, I want you to put it in first."

You do.

"Take your foot off the break slowly."

The car rolls forward only a few inches, then stops.

"Now, do the same with the clutch, also slowly. The car is going to start to roll. When it does, give it just a little bit of gas and please pay attention to where the hell you're pointing the front-end. Just...don't hit anything, alright?"

You slowly let up on the clutch, wheels rolling forward, and you grip the wheel tightly, sweat rolling down the back of your neck from nerves. You give the gas pedal a gentle tap and begin to drive slowly around the parking lot.

Billy glances to the speedometer. "Now, keep doing exactly as you are, but I want you to shift into second gear when you're ready. I want you staying around fifteen miles per hour for right now. You're going to take your foot off the gas and instead press down on the clutch again when you shift."

You press down on the clutch again, pulling the shifter back toward you.

"Good, now give it gas again and just drive around a bit like that. Just get a feel for it."

After less than an hour, you feel far more comfortable behind the wheel than when you'd started.

You were no pro—not like him—but you knew more now than you had.

"Think I'm readying to hit the interstate yet?" You ask, smiling to yourself, shifting.

He smirks. "That's likely," he replies sarcastically. "Alright, go ahead and park it."

You hit the brake a little too hard, causing the both of you to lurch forward.

Billy grabs the dash. "Jesus. Easy, killer. I said park it, not give me whiplash."

You blush, putting the car into first and shutting it off. "At least it was the brake I laid on and not the gas."

"No shit," he says chuckling, unbuckling himself.

He leans over the middle of the car then, pressing his lips to yours, his left hand gripping your headrest, his right slipping under your dress, feeling you up.

You moan against his lips and his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring.

He cups your breast, kneading it in his palm, erection pressing against his jeans...and he slams his head against the roof of the car.

He pulls away, cupping the back of his scalp. "Fuck's sake. I'm not supposed to be the one on top, anyway. Alright, time to switch seats, doll."

He gets out, walking around to the driver's side, opening the door, and you step out and he climbs back in, then grabs your hand, pulling you inside. It takes a bit of struggling and a few curse-words on both your ends, but eventually he gets you to straddle him. He then reclines the seat back and begins pushing your dress up.

Your hands come down to rest overtop of his. "I...I'm not ready to-"

He reaches up, cupping your cheek. "I know. There's still other things we can do if you want to keep...exploring, though," he says with a smirk, growing harder at the thought.

Your eyes flit between both of his, considering, thinking, then you speak. "Never again."

"Never again," he agrees easily, pushing your dress up and off your body, lying it in the passenger seat.

He grips your hips, pupils dilating, licking his lips as he takes in your naked form.

"Now, how the fuck am I supposed to behave myself when I know what you look like under your clothes now?" He looks into your eyes. "You realize that when we're alone in a room together, I'm not letting you wear clothes ever again?"

You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, blushing, smiling slightly.

His eyes trail over your breasts, down your stomach, to between your legs. "You're so fucking beautiful," he says lowly.

Heat pools between your legs.

You reach down then and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"I can't believe you're finally mine."

You look at him.

He reaches up, cupping your cheek with his right hand. "Can you tell me that, angel?"

You bring your hand up to rest over the back of his. You turn your head to gently kiss his palm. "I'm yours."

He maneuvers his shirt off of himself, tossing it over with your dress.

"What now?" You ask nervously.

As much as he wants to bury himself inside of you, he knows he has to wait. He just hopes not long. Not because he was necessarily eager to 'just get laid', but because he wanted to make you his in every way he knew how.

He folds his hands behind his head, staring up at you. "Maybe I just watch you." He shrugs, lifting his hips to get more comfortable, then settling back down against the seat. "I think just this once I'd be alright with being a spectator."

You blink down at him. "You really want to do this here...?"

He glances around the empty lot, then back to you. "Mhm."

You reach down tentatively between your legs, keeping your eyes on his own.

You begin to rub your clit, whimpering lightly at the pleasant feel. You lean back some and jolt when the horn honks.

You look at him, now embarrassed.

He smirks. "Keep going, baby."

You start up again, closing your eyes, your hand circling between your legs, your other gripping his shoulder tightly.

You sigh, running your fingers between your soaked folds, then circling your clit again with your own self-made lubricant.

Billy suddenly inclines the seat again, wrapping his arms around you, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hands sliding down to your ass, squeezing.

Your hips jerk, and you settle again, wrapping one arm around his neck, craning your neck down, pressing your lips to his.

He moves his lips to your neck, your clavicle, your breasts, then back up again, sucking on the sensitive skin until you have a hicky.

You sigh his name and he brushes some hair away from your face. "That's it, darlin'. Just like that."

You press your lips to his, hips jerking yet again and you gasp against his lips.

"Shh, I know. You're close, aren't you, sweetheart?"

You nod, crushing your lips back to his, a low mewling sound coming from the back of your throat.

Your fingers begin to circle faster and faster, slipping between your legs, then back to your clit, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps, you even accidentally bite Billy's lower lip at one point, but he just moans at the feeling.

"Fuck, do that again."

You do, gently biting down, then running your tongue over the now-sensitive spot, kissing him again and again.

And then, finally, you arch your back, crying out in euphoria, that bundle between your legs jerking under your fingers, pulsating.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, softly crying his name.

He slides his hands up your back, your skin slick with sweat, before cupping your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him, your expression now serene, if not a bit sleepy.

"You're lucky I didn't finish in my fucking jeans just now."

You laugh.

When you get back to the room, Billy glances to you with a smirk as he unlocks the door.

"You do know driving my car isn't the only thing I'm going to be teaching you, right?"

"You're such a perv."

He balks, dramatically placing his hand over his heart as he pushes the door open, arm holding it for you. "I was talking about teaching you to surf. Now whose mind is in the gutter?"

You bite your lip as you step past him, now embarrassed.

And then he slaps your ass as he shuts the door behind himself. "Seems I'm starting to finally rub off on you, huh?"

You're very thorough as you shower, well and truly taking your time scrubbing every inch of yourself, shaving your legs and armpits, and giving yourself only a small trim downstairs. Once clean, you stand before the mirror, blow-drying your hair, then teasing it just as you had the other day. He'd liked when you did that.

You ignore your pounding heart and sweaty palms to the best of your ability. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe you should continue to wait. Maybe it'll be a mistake.

Or maybe, like Billy had said a few nights ago, that 'mistake' could turn out to be one of the best things you've ever done.

When you exit the bathroom, it's in nothing more than a towel and Billy glances from the TV to you with a smirk, the arm down at his side holding the remote, other arm across his forehead. "Guess I found something more interesting to watch," he says, turning it off.

You shift from one foot to the other. "Do... You said you have condoms, right?"

He stares at you for just a moment longer, then sits up suddenly. "What?"

You grip the towel more tightly. "I think I'm ready."

"In the car you said-"

"I know," you say quietly. "I...I kind of wanted to the other night. And in the car. I don't know what I'm waiting for, really. I always said I wanted to fall in love first and now I have, so..."

You trail off, glancing down to the carpet, then back up to him, finding him now seated on the edge of the bed.

He stands, coming over to you.

You look up at him and soften when he cups your cheek. "Are you sure about this?"

You nod.

He studies you for a moment longer, and then he steps over to his bag, unzipping a side pocket, removing a small, square, silver wrapper.

Hands trembling slightly, you drop your towel to the floor, thankful the curtains are already shut, only a small fraction of light streamlines across the bed which you lie down on, waiting for him.

You watch as he undresses and you can't help but think he, too, looks just a bit nervous. You wonder if he's ever been that before with a girl.

You don't ask.

He tears the wrapper open with his teeth, then rolls the condom over his already-hard length and walks over to you, crawling on top of you.

You spread your legs, letting him between them. You reach up, cupping his cheek and his gaze softens.

You feel his erection brush against your inner thigh.

"I know you said you were sure-"

"I am," you say, lifting your head, pressing your lips to his.

He then reaches between your thighs, ensuring you're already wet. And his fingers come away soaked.

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as he rubs the tip of himself against you, then slowly begins to ease inside.

It pinches for a moment, rather painfully, and you bite your lip at the feeling, but once he's past that threshold and buried in your sweet wetness, it feels...wonderful.

When you look up at him, it hits you all at once. How just over a week ago you'd been sitting in class absolutely hating his existence, his very presence, and now here you were, completely in love with him. His heart had belonged to you all along.

You wonder if he would've run away with anyone else—would've made such a quick split-second decision to leave it all behind, with only you at his side. Would've protected, and provided for, and looked after, and chased down another like had you.

You were it for him, and it's in that moment of you looking up at him, into his eyes—tears shimmering in them—your bodies joined together as one, that you know he is for you, too.

"You're mine," he whispers, voice husky, quiet.

He begins to gently rock his hips against your own.

"Yes," you sigh, lifting a leg onto his strong back.

"I'll never love anyone else the way I love you, not after everything we've been through. Only we understand each other. No one else ever could—will. You're mine. Forever."

You nod, a tear slipping down the side of your face. "Forever."

When Billy finishes, he's unsure that he's ever felt so happy in his entire life. The only thing that could compare was the feeling of the ocean under his feet.

Finding you was finding the missing part of him—a piece of a puzzle he hadn't even been aware he was trying to solve, falling into place, squarely into his heart. Slowly, you were mending him back into one completeness of a man.

He lays on his side, looking down at you, smiling. "So, did you, uh..." He trails off, nodding lightly.

You reach up, brushing a curl away, smiling slightly, but he can tell something isn't right.

"Not...really."

His brows furrow.

"No?"

You shake your head lightly. It wasn't his fault. Sometimes things just took a bit more effort for a girl, right? "No."

He lays on his back, wondering what the hell he'd done wrong.

Admittedly, he'd finished a bit more quickly than what was typical for him.

"Alright, just give me a minute," he says, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate.

You lie beside him, looking over at his naked body. "It's okay. I can just-"

His eyes open. "No, I want to be the one to do it."

You grow quiet.

He then sits up. "Fuck this, we'll do it another way, then."

He kneels at the end of the bed, gripping your hips, pulling you toward him.

You sit back on your forearms, looking down at him. "Billy, what're you-"

You lay back down again. "Oh God," you said breathily as his hot mouth lowers onto your sex.

He eases your legs over his shoulders, flicking his tongue against your clit, then spearing it, fucking you with it.

You grip the sheets beneath you, arching your back at the amazing feeling.

He eases two fingers inside you, arching them upward just like the other night—since you'd seemed to enjoy that so much—and he continues to suck against your clit, bothering to even trace the alphabet along it.

You close your eyes, brows furrowed, skin hot, nipples hard as your back arches atop the soft mattress.

He gently grips one of your hips with his free hand, then reaches up, twining his fingers with your own.

"Ah, I love you," you say in a whisper, squeezing his hand.

He plants a few kisses to your pussy in reply. "I love you, too, baby." He then goes back to teasing that sensitive nerve bundle with his experienced tongue.

Your thighs tighten around his head and he knows you're close.

He traces his name with his tongue, and just as he's halfway through 'Hargrove' do your eyes pop open, your back arching, your hand squeezing his fingers so hard he's sure you might just break one as you scream his name as you climax. He really fucking hopes the people staying next to you heard every second of it.

As you come back down, head light and swimming, he stands, quickly throwing away the ruined condom, putting on a fresh one.

Your body is still twitching and sensitive when he looks down at you with a smirk. "So, did you cum that time?"

"Y-yes."

He positions himself between your still-spread legs. "Good, because I'm ready again."

Before you can even react and ask for a few seconds to catch your bearings, he sheathes himself.

"You're going to fucking cum this time."

[genericpuff]

(You can delete this ask if it makes you uncomfortable) Do you think I should give up on my dream of being a webcomic artist? It's been what I'd been wanting to for years yet from what I'm hearing, it's hard to get money and an audience and that the mainstream webcomic hosting platforms don't treat their creators well. It doesn't help that while my art is decent, I don't really know how to create webcomics beyond like really short 4-5 panel comics even though I'd been drawing for many years. There's also the issue of my ADHD making it difficult to commit to stuff but then again at least that can be hopefully fixed once I get medicated. So, now the career of a webcomic artist sounds like a pipe dream at best. Is it worth pursuing, even if I don't make much money with it?

"Do you think I should give up on my dream of being a webcomic artist?"

And this isn't just for you, anon, this is for everyone who follows my nonsense here.

Yes, it's hard to build an audience.

It's even harder to make money.

You should still make webcomics if you really want to do it.

The only practical piece of advice I can give you from the perspective of someone who's been doing this for years is to manage your expectations. Because that's the biggest mistake a lot of webcomic artists make (and I too, made this mistake) they go into it setting the bar that it HAS to result in them making a living off it, getting famous off it, etc. when that's unfortunately only the reality for the 1% who get lucky or have an advantage that the other 99% don't have. And then, of course, failing to meet those ridiculously high expectations makes the fall hurt that much harder if you fail, especially with odds like that stacked against you. That's not to say you shouldn't set a bar for yourself, but you have to set it in a place that's reasonable. Especially if you're an artist with ADHD (same, mood), we have a REAL bad habit of setting the bar unreasonably high for ourselves when we're still learning and getting our feet wet (it's why we're always taking on new hobbies after getting inspired by musicians or crafters and then getting immediately discouraged when we're not suddenly able to do the thing with that same amount of skill).

Set the bar in a reasonable place with reasonable expectations, and then when you MEET that bar, you'll have even more motivation and confidence to aim higher. What won't give you confidence is setting the bar alongside the pros who have been at this for years, because not only will it take way too long to hit that for you to see results, you might give up before you even come close because of how far away the bar is.

A career as a webcomic artist is about as guaranteed as making a career out of Youtube. But being a webcomic artist, period? You can do it. Anyone can do it. I'm still doing it in spite of everything. Like, I cannot even fully express to you just how much of what I do here is the culmination of a long list of failures. My art, my writing, the stuff I do here is built on the corpses of my failures. But those failures were still important, they had to happen to make me into the person and artist I am today. That person is STILL making mistakes, and that artist is STILL not rich LOL Failure is scary, but fear of failure is the true killer of joy and growth.

Do not tie the merit of being a webcomic artist to how much money you can (or can't) make out of it. Just like with starting a Youtube channel, you shouldn't go into it expecting money and fame right out the gate, but there are equal amounts of joy and experience you can gain by doing it. There's a reason people say you have to do it out of love and passion first because ultimately that's all you'll have to keep carrying you through if and when you fail to meet your goals. You don't have to be sure if you'll still want to do it a year from now or five years from now, none of that matters. If you want to do it now, then do it.

Make your 4-5 panel comics if that's what you enjoy doing. Make whatever tickles your fancy. Acknowledge your fears and doubts, thank them for their opinion, and do it anyways. "What if it ends up being a waste of time?" The time will pass anyways. Worst case, at least you'll be able to say you did it. That's better than never trying and regretting it in the end.

[meguwumibear]

very quick sfw togame writing warm up before i tackle some wips

If there's one think Togame is good at, it's starting and ending fights. Violence is familiar to him. He was weened on it, in a way. Aggression and anger are comforts, a balm.

"Who do you want me to be, huh," he spits at you. His fights with you are never physical but the bruises left by your words take longer to heal than those left by a fist. "Do us both favor and just tell me."

The look you give him is gentle, disappointed even, soft features slipping, sagging, until they finally come to rest in a pointed frown.

He isn't going for disappointment. He's going for angry. Punching low to knock you off balance. He wants to know your fury. He wants to watch you fight.

"I just want you to be yourself," you say.

And, what kind of sick, twisted shit is that?

Be himself?

Be himself?

When has he ever been anything other than what others want him to be. A doting son. A loyal second. A bad boy you can date to piss off you parents. He has never, not once in his entire fucking life, been himself.

Fuck, why do you have to make things so difficult? Why can't you just tell him who to be? Why won't you just fight him?

"What if..." his voice trails off. He averts his gaze. If he keeps looking at you, the words won't come out right. Reconciliation is unfamiliar to him. He doesn't know what it looks like, but he thinks it might feel like being lost at sea. The ocean waves have a way of smoothing out even the toughest of rocks, "What if I don't know how to do that?"

He chances a glace at you. You're still frowning. Damn, he hates it when you frown. Hates it even more when it's his fault you look like that, all mopey and sad and one wrong word away from tears.

"It isn't too late to learn," you reply. "I could help you if you'd like. It isn't easy, but you can start by identifying what you want, what you like."

He wraps himself around you, tightly, as if to anchor himself to a shore. His arms move ever so slightly with the rise and fall of your chest as you breath. It's soothing. You're soothing. He doesn't want to lose this.

"I want you," he mumbles carefully into the top of your head. "I like you."

You shuffle a bit in his arms as if to turn to face him, but Togame holds you still for him. He isn't ready to see whatever look has made its way onto your face. No one ever taught him to be fluent in sadness. If you frown at him now, he'll break.

"You have me," you whisper, still squirming around in his grip. "Togame, you have me. I promise."

Your words of reassurance should steady him, but he still feels adrift like his land legs haven't kicked in just yet. The room around him sways, tilted on some unseen axis.

Then your hand reaches up to caress his face and all at once everything slows, stops. He's able to get his bearings, to orient himself again.

You are here and you are in his arms and he has you. His hands so versed in fighting are also made for holding.

He suddenly wants your weight. All of it. He wants you to sit on him, to straddle him.

He pulls you down onto the sofa in that exact position. You let out a surprised gasp at the unexpected speed at which he manhandles you onto his lap, but you go easily. Was it not you who just told him that in order to be himself he first had to identify his wants?

He wants whatever you'll give him. Anything you'll give him. If only he could find the words to tell you.

But you must understand what he wants because you kindly press your perspiring forehead against his. Of course you are fluent in sadness. This is a conversation easily had.

He hopes you kiss him. Anywhere. Everywhere.

And maybe, just maybe, he can be himself if it means he'll get to spend an eternity with you.

[coriosbunni]

𐙚⊹ ࣪ - kiss me

pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: straight up fluff, hint of daddy issues :p, slight ooc!coriolanus ?

summary: a peaceful morning in a cabin where y/n wakes up thinking about her relationship with coriolanus.

you wake up to the sounds of the bird chirping outside of the windows. it was a hot night and with no air conditioning, it was hard to sleep with no type of air circulation. corio rectified the problem by opening all the windows to let the cool night breeze in.

you blink your eyes open, seeing coriolanus's buzzed hair in your view right away. you smile thinking back the events from last night. after making dinner together, he showed his love for you in a way that made you glad no one could hear you for miles and miles.

your life with corio in district 12 was different than your life in the capitol. after disobeying your father's advice to not fall in love with a snow, he let you follow your boyfriend in district 12 after he was sent there for helping his tribute win the hunger games. he thought a lesson is learned best when you experience it for yourself.

you obviously had a different opinion on your relationship with corio than your father did. to you, corio was the only one you could lean to. unlike your father, he actually cared about you and protected you. you were glad to have a man like him in your life.

you get up from the bed carefully and decide to go out to the porch to let your mind wander. you sit on the chair and tuck your legs close to you.

you miss your family back home, but what good is a family if they never supported you? they never bothered to even give you an ounce of attention. the snows were the only one you could really count as a family.

tigris was closer to you than your actual sister. you were thankful to have grown up with the snows. they gave you love and affection that your own family never did.

coriolanus was the best thing to happen to you. you couldn't believe you were finally living your lives alone, together. you continue to ponder about your new life with your boyfriend.

coriolanus stirs in bed, feeling y/n's absence beside him. he opens his eyes groggily, scanning the empty space beside him, and then suddenly noticing the open front door. concern and worry flood his mind as he quickly sits up in bed and glances around, searching for his lover.

he stands up quietly, stepping out of bed and padding silently over to the porch, his heart racing with worry and apprehension. but it all goes away once he lays his eyes on you sitting peacefully.

he approaches you with a slight worry in his eyes. he didn't know what to make of him waking up without you by his side. "is everything okay my love?" worry filling his voice.

"mmhm everythings okay corio" you smile up at him, getting up from your chair to wrap your arms around his waist. the sudden hug took coriolanus by surprise but he isn't mad about it.

his arms wrap around you like a protective shield, he can tell theres a lot in your mind, "what you thinking about bunny?" he murmurs softly, his voice filled with love and concern.

"just glad to have you in my life 's all" you mumble still in his arms. he smiles at your response, his heart warming up to your words. he presses soft kisses on your hair and temples, his touch gentle and comforting.

"i feel the same way about you. you've brought so much joy and love to my life, and the thought of losing you breaks my heart." he responds. he cups your face in his hand, his gaze meeting yours, full of sincerity. "you are my everything bunny."

your heart swells with how in love you are with him. your chest fills with this bittersweet feeling that you can't get rid of. "i love you so much corio" you confess.

coriolanus's heart swells with love as he hears this. he pulls her as close as he can get, his embrace tight and protective. coriolanus gives you a kiss, your lips meeting in a tender and passionate embrace. he pours his love and devotion into the kiss, his arms tightening around you as he deepens it. "i am yours, my love," he whispers against your lips, his voice full of emotion and desire.

"forever and always."

your heart swells with love and contentment as he says those words, and he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, "and i am forever yours," you whisper back.

the feel of his forehead against yours, the closeness, and the safety of his embrace makes you feel like nothing could hurt you as long as you stayed together. your love and bond is unbreakable, and you know that you'll always have each other to lean on, no matter what the future holds.

your history with him shows how your love perseveres through anything.

[wolven91]

An Adventure

"Wait! Wait, hold on. You can't just... do this?" Said the young man, exasperatedly, running up the metal ramp.

He had just run up to another human, a female by the looks of it, and halted her advance up the ramp towards a runner transport with a touch on the arm. A quick squint at the signs designated this runner as a shuttle craft for the much larger transport craft that waited relatively close to the Galactic Community station. The human hadn't grabbed her or spun her round, but the brief touch had the even slimmer human spin on her heel and raise her voice, knocking his touch away.

"I can do what I want!" She cried out, snarling at the male.

"I know that! But what about us? I thought we were happy? Where's this come from? We can talk about this." The young man nearly begged, his eyes frantically searching the other's, flicking from left to right. It was evident from the observer's perspective; whatever he was searching for wasn't there.

"'Us'? 'We' aren't anything. All 'we' had was convenience." She dismissed. The young man looked shocked and took a small step back as if physically slapped. He blinked dumbly whilst the young woman crossed her arms and settled onto her back leg, seemingly waiting for the slower human to catch up.

"Con-convenience?" He repeated, as if not understanding the word.

"Yes. You're literally the only other guy in the system, and you were fine when I didn't have options. But I don't have to stay here, I can be someone now!"

"I'd never stop that! You were always 'someone' to me. But, I'm not going stop you from being someone, wherever you like, but what about... about us?! We were dating! And-and now you're leaving without so much as a goodbye? I thought you were kidnapped! This came out of nowhere!" The male replied, gaining steam for a moment, but the female merely pivoted, taking him off the subject.

"Liam, do you know what humans are right now?" She asked in a lower tone.

"Endangered?" He replied honestly and factually.

"No, you idiot! We're famous! Humans can have whatever we want! All we have to do is demand it and every single one of these-these... these aliens! Will give it to us!" The youth nearly shouted, gesturing an arm at the various creatures that were walking too and fro nearby. The distance was not enough to drown out the words and they gained more than a few frowns from the denizens of the station who had all been aware that they were hosting not just one, but two humans.

"But it's dangerous Cass, there's a reason we've all been broken up. What happened to Ned wasn't his fault, but if we disregard what they're telling us, we'll end up the same!"

"Oh fuck Ned and fuck you. I'm smarter than the pair of you and know how to stay out of danger, plus the GC baby proof everything!" She a paused and swept a hand through the hair on the side of her head before continuing in another low, but now hungry tone.

"Now everyone is on a level playing field, I can be bigger than any human that came before! I don't need a marketing team, I just need to go to one of the core worlds, and I'll be the next best thing just because I exist!" The human declared, a righteous grin spreading across her face as she once again fantasised about how her life was about to change. How she was only weeks away from becoming the celebrity she had always deserved to be.

The young man however seemed stuck.

"What about..." He paused, as if realising something. When he continued, his voice was almost so small it was nearly too quiet to hear.

"This'll make you happy?"

"Obviously." She snapped.

The gulp was obvious from a distance as the male swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"Please be safe Cass. For me?"

The young woman rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. She then pointed at his chest.

"You're paranoid Liam. You're going to grow old here, safe as everyone else and when you're old and grey you're going to regret your whole life. You could have everything you ever wanted, but you're too afraid to take a step out the door and take it." She reached down and grabbed her bag. "One day you might grow a spine."

With that, she span on the spot, and stomped into the transport's private booth and the door slid shut behind her. She didn't even glance back or hesitate a moment. The young man however, stood there for the extra few minutes it took for the transport to finish bordering and begin pulling away.

The lone human raised a hand and waved at the retreating vessel before the airlock doors shut it from view.

The observer, who had been quietly stealing EMNs from the unattended stockpile that had been left next to the transport dock, snorted in disgust, and stalked away from the sight, their ill begotten bounty quickly secreted away.

== 0 ==

Liam was despondent from that day onwards.

Whilst his relationship with Cass had been strained at times, they'd been happy... Hadn't they? He'd combed through his memories looking for evidence of where he'd failed, where she'd given him a sign that he'd missed.

As he sat on a chair that rested on his balcony, he'd held his head in his hands as he mulled over their lives.

She'd not appreciated the overprotective nature of the other beings, that was certain. Aside from this, she merely lamented the loss of Earth, frustrated that it was necessary that humanity be split up. She was mostly just bored with the lack of social media to provide her entertainment. The jokes of the various aliens never really landed with neither Liam, nor Cass as both of them experienced the station in a different way so the analogues to social media that were available didn't fit the bill. It didn't scratch her itch.

More than once had Cass gone on a rant about the aliens and how they weren't like humans. Liam was aware that Cass had been trying to get a social media career off the ground ack home as she saw that as a way to live a good life without joining the rat race.

"She must have saw another chance." He mumbled, sighing and scooting back down into the chair. It was odd, having a balcony that led to the inside of a station. There were giant lamps that turned on and off as the day and night went by, but there was never any wind or rain.

Liam missed that sensation.

He'd wanted to go somewhere and feel the wind on his face again, but that was just a dream for now. He'd been told to stay put by the GC, and it didn't feel right to just...

'One day you might grow a spine.'

Her words slammed into him and pointed an accusing finger directly at him. Judging him. Telling him exactly why he'd been left behind by her. Liam pulled a face and a pit in his stomach opened.

What if he tested the length of his lead?

If he appeared at wherever Cass was, would that be enough to prove that he wasn't trapped by the GC? That they could both be free together?

"Oh, fuck what am I doing?" Liam asked no one as the young man stood and walked with purpose to his front door. His body moving while his mind reeled in frantic panic.

== 0 ==

Kelsh opened and closed her hands as they rested on the bar in anticipation, in a sort of 'gimmie' gesture. Her claws unfurling and curling back in as she licked her chops, eyes locked on her goal.

As the large cold beer was placed down on the bar in front of her before being pushed into her grip, she clasped it with both hands and tipped her back, drinking greedily. She'd been waiting for this for roughly three weeks. Ignoring that the bastards had been deliberately stalling her payment for good received, she now was rather flush with credits that these wimpy GC cretins accepted.

It was as she was downing her first pint that her second arrived and a human walked in. It was only because she was facing the door that she noticed the creature slip into the dingey bar and head over to the freelancer board. Kelsh lowered the glass, and placed it down more carefully than normal as she watched the creature browse the board.

That was when she remembered; this was the 'human' that had been left on the landing pad by its mate.

Her eyes widened as she realised that this creature was her meal ticket for the foreseeable future. No one would dare search a vessel with a human on board. The GC were petrified of giving the humans a bad impression of their oh so 'perfect' galaxy.

As she rose from her seat, a sneer sprung to her lips as a vulptanis beat her to the punch and began a conversation with the human. Kelsh picked up the pace and approached the human's back, before looming over the vulptanis. It took a second for either of them to notice her.

"We'll need to take a detour as we have other commitments, but we can provide... provide..." The haughty vulptanis's face dropped as she tilted her head back to observe the imposing hyenid.

"Fuck off." Kelsh ordered and the vulptanis obeyed, scuttling away with their tail between their legs. The human practically jumped, spinning on the spot, and craning his neck even further back up at the towering creature. Kelsh merely put her forearm against the passenger board and leant over the human, who placed his back against the board as she crowded him.

"If ya' gonna' be travellin' the black, ya' gotta' find a cap'in who's not gonna' run off the moment someone tells 'em to 'fuck off'." Kelsh explained down at the human who was looking rather pale at this point. She grinned wickedly, not quite drooling at how fragile he looked. He wasn't saying anything, so Kelsh spoke again.

"Look, ya' lookin' at t' passenger board. So ya' wan'in to travel, yeah?" She prodded, gesturing at himself, then the board. She had an idea where he was wanting to go, but she needed to know for certain. Her belt was mere inches from his chest, but she had left an escape route that went straight to the front door of the mercenary bar.

The human didn't run though, breaking her expectations and instead; nodded. She tilted her head in approval and placed her free hand against her chest.

"Alright, I'm a cap'in of a ship. I can take ya' where ya' goin'." She explained, placing her free hand against her hip, his eyes following it and naturally eyeing the curve of her thigh and stomach. To look her in the eye, those little eyes had to cross the rest of her too and her grin widened as they lingered by accident.

"But ah... " the human cleared his throat. "Y-you don't know where I'm going?"

"A good cap'in knows how t' make profit wherever she goes. Where to?"

"The 'core worlds'?"

Kelsh smirked, she suspected as much, but nodded.

"Theres a few of 'em. Got an idea which?"

"No... I'm looking for someone."

"A'rite. That's what they call a 'rollin' contract'. Ya' stay on board as we go n' my crew provide protection. Ya payin' in credits or material?" She asked. Chances were he only had credits, but his belongings could sell for significant money to the right buyer.

"I haven't agreed to go with you yet." He retorted, a frown briefly crossing his features. Ah! Unexpected, but welcome. He wasn't a complete welp.

"Aye, true. But ol' brushy tail there left ya' with the scary 'Nid. That's ignorin' that she just said she wan't goin' to the core straight away. That'll be vulp space where they're goin'. Outside of GC space. You goin' w' that type? The one that doesn't 'get' what it means to be a 'ooman'?"

Kelsh watched the human's face as he came to realisation that his protection was thanks to him already being somewhat deep within GC space. The further out he went, the less protections he had to going missing. He needed someone reliable, rough enough to protect him and willing to go deeper without delay. His precious mate would be getting further and further away.

"I'm goin' inwards. Toward the cores. Up to ya' though." She explained, curling her fingers on her free hand to 'casually' inspect her claws.

His scent was not lost on the older hyenid either. There was fear, excitement, and a spicy undertone of lust with how close her body was. Kelsh could happily stuff her muzzle into the nap of his neck and inhale until she could breathe in anymore.

But she resisted as the tiny creature eventually came to a decision.

"Do I have time to collect my things?"

"'Course. Bay 4, ship's called the 'Gnarled Gnoll'. Ya' ask for me when ya' get there. They won't bite if ya' tell 'em I sent ya'."

"Whats your name?"

"Kelsh, yours?"

"Liam. Pleasure to meet you ma'am."

Kelsh's laugh was long and loud, her head flinging backwards as hysterics washed over her. Never in her life had she thought to be called 'ma'am' before. This was going to be great!

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[arcadekitten]

[MY WISHMAKER Spoilers!]

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I just played MY WISHMAKER last night and I loved it, so I wanted to give you my thoughts!

Arcade, you are SO SNEAKY AND CLEVER!!! I saw those promo images and was like "oh dear, he has a gunshot wound, what happened?" only to boot up the game and find out HIS WHOLE ARM WAS MISSING! You really can't tell when he's facing right, so I applaud you for hiding it so well.

I LOVE how sassy The Wishmaker is! I was expecting it/them(? I'll just go with them for now) to be kind of highfalutin and regal 'cause they're a deity and all but I really love how you went in this completely other direction! I think it does make sense since The Wishmaker obviously has to, like, grant people's wishes (in some way at least), so having a more casual manner of speech would probably make them less intimidated.

Also! I loved how you implemented the QTEs! I feel like it spices up the gameplay and is a nice little nod to your fans who played My Neighbor Enide. Even though I messed up all of them, though I SWEAR the Vas one was not my fault! I was mashing that Z button for dear life, but my laptop decided to type it into Edge for some reason!? I didn't even have it open!

Oh, and I see you were able to figure out the mouse movement? You said you'd have to move around using the arrow keys, which I was fine with, but I was pleasantly surprised when I booted up the game and I could move with the mouse too! It really completed the experience.

I don't really have much to say about the story, not because it's bad, but because it's so shrouded in mystery that my cogs are still turning as to what it could mean. I did really like the puzzles, though! And I did notice those key items you hid away...

I have plenty of theories I've been ruminating on even before MW, but I don't wanna put them here because 1) since this is an ask it might make you feel obligated to comment on them somehow which you are not and I don't want you to do, and 2) I think I would start rambling and make this ask a mile long LOL.

That's about everything I could think of off the top of my head! Overall, I really enjoyed it, and I hope you the best in all the other chapters and games you plan to make. I'm sure I'll enjoy them just as much, if not even more. Take care!

Haha yes! ♡ I know some people have been asking why Reginald has two arms in the promo images and it's like...it's meant to be a surprise, silly!

Also for our little Wishmaker character, yes! I adore them very much and I'm very excited for people to see more of them and learn their real name!! Another one of my favorites to be sure ♡ Not sure how I'll tag them in posts yet until their name reveal... clock, maybe? Just to avoid confusion? This character can be referred to with any pronouns, but for clarification that in games and in my posts they will only be referred to with "they" and the occasional "it"

I'm happy the QTEs are received well! (Granted they were a bit harder at first haha!) I'm happy to include them in future chapters as I feel future chapters will definitely be more linear and dialogue heavy and so I hope they can spice up the gameplay and keep things interesting and maybe just a tad more immersive! ♡

As for mouse movement controls it's kinda like a "Well yes, but actually no". You CAN move using the mouse if you really want to but you also have to be aware that you could accidentally hit an object's hitbox and activate its event. And you can't back out of an event once it has been activated like in typical point-and-clicks. (There's only so far I can push the engine with my experience level!) It's for this reason (and the surprise of QTE's!) that WASD/Arrow Key movement is recommended!

Thank you so much! ♡ I am so very happy to hear you enjoyed the experience and I love to hear what people have been brewing up regarding the story and the mysteries still unfolding (even though I can't say anything about it yet!) and I can't wait until I can have more to show you all! I'm really excited for it and I hope everyone will be too! ♡♡♡

[archangelsarchway]

overwatch!reader support!reader

OKAY, STAY WITH ME NOW THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING STUFF LIKE THIS.

Alright. It's been a week since the "petting Sloan" incident.

After that... interesting noise came out of their throat that was so decorated with flames, they found an excuse and sped out of your room as fast as possible.

Now you're preparing in the drop ship with Winston, Tracer, Sloan and Mercy. They're all talking amongst themselves, but Sloan is running just a little late. You prepare your heal-packs and pack a light bag for the scuffle about to occur when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Howdy hey!

their hand is so warm. I wish they would put their hand under my shirt and—

Nope. Mission.

"Hey, Sloan. Do you need anything?"

You turn around fully and look at them in their glory, a halo of curly brown hair and warm eyes and chipped tooth and oh my goodness they're so adorable. You can't even—

"No but— you've never been to Rome before, right? Classical archeology is my favorite, that's why I'm so excited to go to Rome and see the coliseum! What about you?"

Totally caught off guard. You're speechless. Still staring at their neck tattoo.

They look at you with an cute odd expression for a beat and smile brightly.

"Since you seem to be off in your own head today, I'll stick by you this round. Those talon goons won't touch a hair on your head with me around!"

They fire up their drill for a few seconds, flexing their muscles, before settling down and placing a strong arm around your shoulders, their hand tentatively touching the base of your neck for a second before following to engulf you in their embrace, bringing you close and giving you insane noogies.

"Don't zone out on me out there!"

...

Sloan was separated from the team. Moira behind them, using her rotted arm, Sombra is running around here somewhere, and Doomfist is pummeling the team left right and center.

You rush to Moira and quickly melee the geneticist and she fades away... right in front of Sloan's drill.

They sigh with relief as she's eliminated.

"Close call there... phew!"

You're panting, heavy breaths as you heave open your medical pack give them heals.

You take their arm carefully, rolling up their sleeve to apply a salve and bandages to their arms and you appreciate the sight of the wild flames that continue down their neck to their forearm.

Nope. To business. Heal Sloan.

"Be sure to watch your flank next time."

"Why would I do that when I have you watching my back! You were amazing!"

You finish up healing them and the beautiful art is hidden once more by their sleeve, Sloan giving you an odd look as you watch them roll their sleeve down.

"... thanks for saving me, mi sanador."

They wrap you in a deep hug. You can feel their muscles flex. Their arms wrap around you and settle on the small of your back comfortably like they were meant to be there. They smell like sandalwood and warm and nature and the sun and everything good and...

the hug ended too early because Winston was signaling to group up, and you walked back to point with them avoiding eye contact while they were grinning like a lunatic.

(A/N erm what the sigma i have no plan for this at all just... following venture wherever they go)

[dr0wn1ngdreams]

The Umbrella Academy season 4 trailer is out, and I have many, many, many opinions/theories/concerns!

First off, the Five and Lila hug is I think the most human we've like ever seen Five be, which is a huge moment for his character and for his relationship with Lila. But this hug has me concerned for Diego. My original thought was that something had to have happened to Diego, and we see Diego and Allison getting their brains fried in some creepy, torture esque way.

(This is a lot of yap about Five 😭🙏)

If the kid at the party with Diego is his and Lila's kid then it has been multiple years that the family has been apart and that has me wondering where tf has Five been because a 13 year old can't get a sustainable job or a house and Five is technically dead he has no identification so he wouldn't be able to get a job anyway (legal job atleast) he could be doing hitman work like he was in the comics after he came back but with how Five is portrayed in the show I see that very unlikely considering his disdain for killing. I don't think he was living with any of his family because he walked away by himself at the end of season 3.

We also see Diego holding Five by his shirt, and they are seemingly fighting, which gets broken up by who I assume is Lila. Five cannot catch a break istg, I don't really have a theory for this I just felt like it was worth mentioning.

At the end of season 3, when they all realize they no longer have their powers and Luther is fully human again, that makes me wonder why is Five still 13 then?? Maybe it's because a physically older version of Five never existed in that timeline, and so he remained as the age he was before he jumped to the future. Maybe he's still 13 just for shits and giggles, and I'm overthinking it, but Luther had his thing going on longer than Five.

In conclusion, Five still does not seem to be having a good time in this season. Many people are speculating that Five is going to die this season, and if he does, I will actually lose my shit because he deserves to be happy for once and to actually live a life because surviving is NOT the same as living. His family needs to stop blaming everything on him and actually sympathize with him because why have none of them acknowledged that the only reason he is still alive is because he wanted to save them like ummmm what give him a hug or some shit and apologize because he's been through hell to make sure his family is happy and safe.

[itsonlydana]

Hey hey, saw ur requests were open for Thranduil and knew I needed to submit something!

Could you do a Thranduil x fem human reader where she braids her hair without knowing the significance for elves? They both have feelings for each other but neither has said anything, supper fluffy ending y’know?

Thank you in advance and have a great day!! :))

Beautiful misunderstandings | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem human!reader 👑

You simply wanted to accept an invitation to a celebration, but something about you makes the elves literally drop at your feet. Can Thranduil resolve this misunderstanding, or will he be affected as well?

tags/warnings: just lots and lots of fluff, no warnings

word count: 3,6k

an: to be honest, most of what i wrote is my own headcanons because i did not find lots about hair culture with the elves.. so please: educate me! Are there some hcs in the fandom? :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The forests of Greenwood greet you with open flames of torches licking up their hot tongues against the dark skies, coloring the path the horse trots along in their amber lights and the wooden smoke that fills the air. Evenly distributed along the pathway they light up just enough of Greenwood that it doesn't take away from the sight that awaits you at the end, where the trees give way to an equally decorated bridge and the foliage thins out enough for you to take in the tall arches framing the open doors of the Great Elvenking's halls.

You have already been a guest for many of Thranduil's festivities ever since he established trading relations with your small fisher town. Due to the bond that twirls around the two of you in some unfathomable and complex manner, you also know that nothing he ever does is anything but grande and imposing. 

Still, you can't help but push your lower lip in between your teeth. 

Not once have you gotten the impression of standing out more than the difference in race and status already marked as obvious factors, neither Thranduil nor his elves treated you like you felt right now: 

Completely out of your known waters.

The elvish customs were far too many for you to know them all and you always try your best to consider all and everything that you've learned in the two summers you could consider yourself an acquaintance to Thranduil. Whatever form this acquaintanceship took on is another worry, or rather, another unknown that you can't exactly express to anyone. 

It's nearly as confusing as the steps of the dance you studied in your room before you left this morning, a step forward and two back, Thranduil asking you to accompany him to his dances but never dancing with you. 

Tonight, you want to change this predicament of always ending up in the arms of another elf while the one you yearned for watches from the sidelines! You didn't work this hard for the fabric that hugs your figure in a beautiful dress for nothing and even if the fabric isn't as shiny or light as the dresses the elves wear and the stitches marked your fingertips with the evidence of the labor and long nights, you are proud of the garment. 

The wind plays in the hem as you emerge from the guarded forest and its thick and dense foliage and it winds itself around your legs after you dismount your horse. A quick kiss to his muzzle, followed by an exhale of warm, familiar breath and you hesitantly let a servant take him away, mumbling a soft "Thank you" while you stay where you are and watch until they disappear around a tree.

Nervously you start walking up to the bridge, the reckless water under it crashing against the stone walls and it goes along with the blood that pumps high and fast through your body and rushes in your ears. The atmosphere is loaded, sizzling under the nearly suffocating heat that's only bearable in the cool shadows of the palace in front of you so you don't waste another second. 

You brush off the hood of your riding coat, smoothing out some fly-away hairs that escaped the braid you carefully weaved earlier this day as you duck your head in reverence to be allowed in these sacred halls. 

Whispers catch up to you from outside, a breeze dancing through leaves.

When you lift your chin again, you find that it's not the air affecting nature but rather your presence halting nearly all the elves that gathered on the first bridge inside the caves. 

They say elves are graceful and purposeful in their movements – the way dozens of eyes are locked onto you and lips move in not-so-silent murmurs defiles that claim though.

It's nothing you haven't encountered before, the talks behind your back that came along with Thranduil's attention shining down on you like the sun – hot, engulfing you completely and rendering you breathless as well as a bit sweaty at times whenever he looks at you, and you learned how to handle it. His attention brought forth a lot of awareness of his folk to the woman who visits Thranduil just as often as he rides into your town and becomes the topic of conversations for weeks. What's a girl to do except accept that a King never comes alone?

You're used to elves watching you, most of them in respect. Thranduil's authority radiates onto you, as well as the protection that he swore would lay upon you as long as he's there to give out orders.

The first elf whose eyes you questioningly meet drops to his knees in the same instant, barely a breath of time passing by. 

A gasp leaves your throat.

Words do not follow. They remain echoing in your head, pushed back by the spectacle that spread before you like wildfire. Too fast, too much.

Within seconds of you entering, the buzz of lowered voices dies down as elf after elf either bows or completely meets the ground they are standing on. The spectacle is confusing and throws you completely off; this reaction is nowhere near what you've experienced before and you do the first thing that comes to mind to handle this totally unsuspected confrontation of elves bowing to you, a human from no known family and nothing to your name other than the weight it carries on Thranduil's tongue.

The only thing you manage to stammer is: "Good evening," and a high-pitched, "Thank you?" before you take your legs into your hand and dash over the bridge. 

Thoughts as unstoppable as you run through your mind while you navigate the curving halls of the underground palace, the stonewalls not cool enough to diminish the heat that sits low in your neck, growing the longer you think about all that has happened between Thranduil and you and how it's not much more than nothing but a close alliance of human and elf. 

One that you hope would take on a different turn, because some of the actions by Thranduil could be considered friendlier than one would treat an ally or friend. You think back to all the gifts you have received, the white gems for example that, barely bigger than your nails but woven into the upper part of your braid, reflect the light and throw silver dots against the walls that lead you to the point Thranduil had asked you to meet him in one of his many letters. 

The route involves more encounters with more elves, some bow more subtly, their hands on their chest in a greeting that you do know, and some others, mostly those who've already fallen in barrels of wine and are less sophisticated in their movements in their drunken state who repeat the word "bereth" as if it's a prayer in a language that's far beyond you to make out right now. 

At the end of the hallway, you make out the back of a familiar blonde and even from afar you notice the resemblance that Thranduil's silver circlet has to the silver ribbon you have woven into your hair in a similar way and height how his circlet would look placed on your head. 

Is this what brought such uproar to the elves? Have you accidentally copied their king? 

"Thranduil!" you call out, his name lacking any title though not out of disrespect. You have the highest respect for the King of the Elves and slip a "Your Majesty" rather often into conversations because you know how much he favors his name from your tongue and teasing him like that brings a joy to you that you can't explain anyway else then: 

Hearing him laugh and smile or roll his eyes at your antics fuels the love you harbor for him.

Now is not the time for teasing chit-chat, you are desperate to find out if you have actually misstepped by presenting his gifts like this at a festival that's solely about him.

He turns at the sound of your voice and, oh lord, even his eyes widen as soon as they land on you and you want to perish rather than step any closer but the hurry in your legs and the nervousness in your stomach makes it impossible to do anything else but run to the one soul in this world that brings you comfort. 

You arrive at a full stop, and your heels would have stirred up dust if you were a mare. 

Now it's not only Thranduil's eyes that seem to have developed an inability to stray farther than your head; his mouth falls open as well and he makes no effort to close it again. The fact that this behavior is completely ungracious and ill-mannered has apparently not dawned on him yet. The longer you spend helplessly looking up at him, you swear you can see most of his thoughts visibly inching away behind that baffled expression.

At first, there's nothing.

Then some clarity returns into the blue eyes you love so much and Thranduil exhales a quiet: "Berio nin." 

Now, that's Sindarin you've heard before – that the context he has said these words were moments when he playfully begged the Valar to aid him with you tormented him in some way throws you off your balance even more and you take a step back. 

"I did not–" you start and raise a hand to wave it at all of you, "This, I had no idea. Did I offend you? Or the elves?" 

"Offend?" Thranduil asks bewildered.

"Well, the way they reacted. I wasn't sure," you laugh distraught. Thranduil's eyebrows instantly furrow, and you're quick to follow up: "Not in a bad way!" you explain and he loosens up, "They, um, they bowed? And some may have fallen to the ground?"

"Ah," he chuckles and his reaction calms you a bit. He could've been screaming or throwing you out. If he's laughing this can't be that big of a serious misstep. Thranduil looks at you through lowered lashes and runs his tongue over his teeth, a smile threatening to break through the serious expression he tries to obtain. "I believe a conversation and education is in order. If you would follow me to have this conversation somewhere else," he says and holds out his arm for you to grab.

He leads you around a corner and another one, walking swiftly yet seemingly in no hurry until Thranduil opens a door and quickly pulls you inside the room. 

Candles littered all around light up what you immediately understand to be his private chambers, the many robes you recognize, the colorful falcons with shimmering scented oils and shells full of jewelry, pearls, gems, and rings in gold and silver. There, right where Thranduil stops in front of you to block out your view, you take a peek at a giant bed behind flowy white curtains. 

You blush.

Even more so when you see Thranduil blush as well. His eyes return to your hair again, just like he had on the short walk to these chambers; tilting his head down to you as if some magical force bound him to staring at you in a manner he hadn't done before.

"You are my guest so I see it to be my responsibility to clear up what may have been a–" he pauses and his eyelashes flutter as he thinks of a fitting word, "a misapprehension. Not that you could have possibly known the outcome of what you doubtlessly suspected to be a kind gesture." 

You nervously cross your arms behind your back, intertwining your fingers so you do not meddle or ruffle the carefully layered fabrics of your dress. "I solemnly swear I was not up for any mockery."

His eyes widen again. "I would not have accused you of such!"

You tilt your head in confusion and bite down on your lip, ungraceful as well and a habit you should definitely quit, especially in the company of a King.

"What was it that startled the elves?" You think back to the way Thranduil had reacted, the wide-blown eyes, the pink lips formed to a delicate 'o' – "As well as you, Thranduil. You couldn't even get a word out except for a prayer." You let out a single laugh to cover up your embarrassment. 

The elf lifts his chin higher as if that could prevent you from noticing the blush deepening, growing much more red than just a delicate pink that stands out from his ivory skin but not much that it couldn't be interpreted as a light intoxication of either wine or fresh air. 

"I do not remember that," he lies with a dismissive voice. "Anyway, let me clarify the current dilemma instead of wasting time discussing the past." 

"Definitely not that far back that you could count it as 'the past' but sure," you sigh and decide to ignore the glare he sends you as you confront his very unsubtle passive- aggressive change of topic from him to you. Thranduil had centuries of building up a thickheadedness to lead the Woodland Realm and you had mere months on your hands in trying to push a way through it.

"Well, the behavior my folk portrayed was simply said the respect they pay for any honorable and eminent," Thranduil says, not batting an eye over the unbelievable words that come out of his mouth.

"What?" Your voice is nothing but a high squeal, "Why would they do that? They know I'm just a human!"

Thranduil scoffs, "Just a human, she says. Do not dismiss yourself in any way and most definitely not as just a human. Humans are such fascinating creatures, all those feelings compressed into an ephemeral life and bodies that endure pain and even if you waste away to dust you try to mark down your existence into every stone that you touch." Before you can burst into tears at his rather sentimental and emotional view of your people, he continues in a tone more factual: "To answer your question– you conveyed that I was courting you and they simply knew there would be grave consequences if they did not respect my intended." 

All the air left your body in a singular exhale, thus leaving you to grasp at the few thoughts that stayed through the cut-off of oxygen. Not that they were any good.

Courting you? Being his intended? 

You can only stare at him aghast. 

"But– courting? You weren't, we weren't– there was no courting!" you stammer.

The world is reeling. 

Black spots dance in the corner of your sight.

It takes all your focus to stand still and not sway back and forth, giving in to the abrupt slide downward reality has suddenly become. 

"No," Thranduil says.

A part of you withers at the finality of the statement because of course, he, Great Elvenking Thranduil, would never be caught courting a human. The absurdity of it must be why he was laughing earlier, praying to the Valar to become a witness of what must be your greatest humiliation.

"No, there was. I was simply waiting for your realization as well as acceptance to officially proclaim it."

Now it's your mouth that falls open without any strength left to prevent it.

Thranduil swallows, hard, his jaw set tightly and his eyes fixating on you. "All that I did, and thought to do, was in prospect of taking you as my betrothed," he states; the smallest of quivers underlining the massive impact this admission causes to him. He lifts one hand to his chest, pressing his knuckles against the fabric where underneath his heart lays. "I ache to love, treasure, and worship you. Every second of all the days I may have the pleasure of your company in my life or it shall be colorless from now on."

His eyes glitter, the endless blues of the sky, affection burning in them like the sun, broadening your horizon of what you believed love to be and there is no doubt in your mind that Thranduil's words are nothing but the truth. Confounding as that truth should be, it is that – certainty.

A smile breaks on your face, watery and wet as tears of pure happiness spill onto your cheeks and even if your heart has been on the tip of your tongue at every word you have ever said to him and in every glance that you have ever directed in his way, the need to validate his revelation.

You step carefully step closer and the hem of your dress brushes against his gowns as you close the bit of distance. Thranduil watches cautiously, leaving his hand against his heart, and only tips his chin down to follow you until you step into his personal space. The whole regal and stoic image he portrays even after confessing his love passionately mere seconds ago breaks as you feel his wavering breath and you swear you can hear the loud pounding of his battered-yet-strong heart. 

"Is it my hair?" you ask quietly and catch him off-guard. 

Thranduil smiles and his chest heaves in a deep inhale of air. "Yes," he laughs in an exhale, "Do you wish to know how you managed to completely dismantle me? Rob me of all powers?" 

You nod once and one hand of his comes to rest on your shoulder from where he leads you to a silver basin standing in a corner decorated with more oils and vines climbing the stone walls.

The sight that the clear water inside it shows you, Thranduil standing behind you, more than slightly taller, brings a warmness to your cheeks. Even if the prospect of his image finding a constant in your life from now on is undeniable, you're not sure if you will ever get satiated by it. 

Thranduil slowly reaches the elaborate braid you are so proud of despite the public tumult it had caused. "There are many things sacred to my folk and hair –" he starts and lets his fingers travel the length of free-falling hair, "holds the memories of our history, our connection to the Eldar and kemen – the earth. We do not cut it but rather let it grow to pay our respects to Eru for his creation, the natural and untouched world, flows in us all. It bears the marks of our ancestry though many cultures convey their personal history in many different ways." 

You listen intently, trying not to get distracted by Thranduil's hands smoothing your hair and the deep rumble of his voice wrapping around his language that pulls you into a trance. 

"Among us Sindar, we wave our customs into the very strands of this sacred hair. Our warriors, for instance, adorn themselves with tightly woven braids, serving not only as protection in battle but as a testament to their strength and unwavering discipline."

"The intricate and jeweled braids you wear," Thranduil's fingers glide along the white gems, thus nudging them against your head, "they speak volumes of noble heritage and high standing. Even if you do not have royal blood in your family, a braid like this will be more convincing to the contrary."

You blush as you realize how you unknowingly changed your entire status.

"By adorning your hair with the jewels I bestowed upon you, you declare to all my claim upon you," Thranduil chuckles and meets your eyes in the water, "Braids are the essence of our heritage, denoting rank and occupation, and they speak volumes in courtship."

"Oh," you say, "I knew Elves court through gifts. Would I have known this…"

Thranduil shakes his head, smiling widely as he continues playing with your hair, "You say that but not once have you realized all that I have given to you were of my pursuit."

"Well, I– this wasn't… I thought you were being nice," you sputter and grow even redder in the face.

"Unbelievably rude and ungracious to consider me ni–" he interrupts himself and shivers, "No I will not speak in such obscene language." Thranduil raises an eyebrow before returning his attention to the lesson in courting, "Through these intricate weavings, we convey our intentions and the profound depth of our bonds. While dalliances are not uncommon, my folk only marry once in their life."

"Love is eternal and unwavering, and each twist in our braids declares the union of our souls. By weaving your hopes and pleas for reciprocation into your hair, you speak a silent yet powerful language. The braid you chose, resembling my crown and adorned with my jewels and a silver ribbon akin to my own hair, could not have delivered a clearer message."

"So I basically lied to your elves," you pull a face in shame, "Great."

"You may call it a lie," Thranduil says slowly and his hands travel to rest on your shoulders. You lean into the gentle pull and let him turn you around so that you are face-to-face again. There is a dedication in his eyes, a look of hunger and yearning, "Or," his voice sounds even deeper and reverberates through your entire body, zipping up your spine that you automatically straighten, "You allow me to present our courtship openly if a deeper connection is what you desire to form between us."

Your heart thumps in your chest, double the tempo that one would call normal and it only speeds up when Thranduil cups your face in his hand and his fingertips graze the silver ribbon that sits tightly against your head.

"Allow me," he repeats, quieter. 

"Your word and the world will know you are mine," he pleads.

You waste not a second to ponder over what your heart already decided. "I allow it."

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

[groupielove21]

The thing with this scene being deleted from the episode generating discomfort in the fandom has nothing to do with the Buddie of it all, but with the fact that I feel like they are trying to erase Eddie and Buck's progress as characters.

What I mean is:

Bobby gave the prayer book to Eddie literally in 7X9, and previously, the two of them had had a whole conversation about Eddie's Catholic guilt, so...why remove Eddie praying for Bobby? The scene itself, even without dialogue, serves to imply how complex Eddie's relationship with God is, because it is something he associates with a part of himself that he wants to forget because he feels that he failed or was harmed (his childhood, the Army, Shannon), but for Bobby, for someone he loves, for someone who represents everything good that Eddie accomplished in his adult life, he is able to pray because maybe he doesn't believe in God, but Bobby does.

Buck once again has to see the person he loves hurt and he can't do anything to fix it. He have to sit there and wait for a signal. And the whole time he spends there we see him crying or at least about to cry and that really solidifies Bobby's place as Buck's father because he realizes that he doesn't know what he's going to do if Bobby doesn't wake up (exactly the same as happened to him after Eddie was shot).

And instead of giving us this scene where we can see all this development of the characters, what do they give us? a scene of Eddie with a prayer book in his hand that he practically hides from the rest of the team and Buck saying that he has problems with his parents and that Bobby is the closest thing he is going to get to a father figure, to be followed later for a daddy kink joke.

This chapter was genuinely a disappointment in terms of character development.

(And regarding the buddie of it all: Buck trusting that Eddie can give Bobby this peace that he can't give because he was never taught how to pray...Eddie allowing Buck to see him in a position he feels uncomfortable in, because religion is uncomfortable for Eddie...Both exposing themselves to each other in the moments where they feel most vulnerable, without teasing, in silence, letting themselves be carried away by their uncomfortable feelings but being sure that they have the other's back)

[yourhumblemusicaltheatrefan]

Young love hold on, Young love so strong.

Rafe x FemPogue!reader

Synopsis: Eleanor and Rafe have been best friends for years. But what happens when Rafe gets confronted by his feelings?

Word count: 4,174

Warnings: Pogues being treated badly (surprise surprise), Topper being actually decent, a bit of mean!rafe. Mostly fluff!

Eleanor crossed her arms, watching as Kiara pulled JJ and John B away from another fight. She turned her head, locking eyes with Pope. They both roll their eyes.

Just once she'd love to come to a party with her friends without a fight breaking out and ruining the mood.

"Apparently some kook was making fun of John B's dad" Pope said, coming up behind Eleanor. She shook her head in utter disbelief. "How do people like this exist?" Pope shrugged his shoulders.

Eleanor scanned the crowed, a mix of pogues and kooks all trying to get drunk and get into each others pants and skirts. You could tell these people apart by something as simple as their shoes. The pogues' shoes are scuffed, off coloured and falling apart. The kook' however, pristine, clean and without a spec of mud. The same can't be said for them though.

There were people like JJ, John B and Kiara who'll fight against the kooks till the day they die, even though Kiara is one. And then there are people like Eleanor, who just wants the feud to be done. She thinks the kooks suck, but she doesn't want to fear for her life when she's trying to buy her groceries.

In her quest to find Sarah in the crowed of people, she locks eyes with another Cameron. The older Cameron. Something in her stomach dropped.

"Ow! Miss Marks! Rafe pulled my hair"

Tammy clutched to her pigtail, running circles around the room crying out in despair. Rafe smirked, looking at his friends as they all laughed at the little girl.

Miss Marks turned around, assessing the situation before turning to the boy with a look om his face that lacked any guilt. "For goodness sake Rafe. You are 7 years old now. You know not to pull on the girls hair. If I hear it happens again, I will be calling your father in"

This shut the boy up.

"Now class, we have a new student joining the class today. Her name is Eleanor. I'm sure she is very nervous about joining today, and I am hoping all of you will look after her, and make sure she feels very welcomed here. And that includes you Mr Cameron"

The little girl gripped her sparkly backpack as her other hand was being dragged by her mother. "Right Ellie, I'll pick you up at 3. You're lunch is in your bag" Eleanor's mum placed her hand gently on her cheek, giving it a little pinch.

The girl grinned up at her mother, her little baby teeth shinning in the blazing sun that was beaming down on them. She nodded her head, reaching up to smack a kiss to her cheek.

"Ah, Mrs Lake?" The mother turned to face the teacher. "Yes, nice to meet you" The two women greeted each other as Eleanor looked around the space. The many posters hanging on the wall that varied in quality, photo's of the many teachers with big cheesy grins and a 'Welcome to the cosy corner' sign hanging above a little cubby filled with blankets and pillows.

"Okay Ellie, are you ready to go with Miss Marks?"

She bit her lip, nodding her head with a little hesitation. Eleanor was an only child, and up until this point she was home-schooled. So she wasn't used to being around children her own age. So she was relatively nervous about being around so many of them.

"I'll see you soon, baby"

Her mother waved her off while Eleanor gripped her new teachers hand. "There's no need to be nervous Eleanor, you're going to be surrounded by some lovely people" They both turned a corner, a door with a tree mural painted on the front stood before them. 'Miss Marks, Class B' painted in swirly welcoming letters.

Miss Marks felt some hesitation when she went to pull her inside. "Come on sweetheart, everything will be fine. I promise" After 5 seconds she took a deep breath, gripped tighter onto her backpack and shifted. Miss Marks opened the door.

What was once a loud bustling room, became silent. Everyone's heads turned to face the front. Eleanor could feel every eye locked to her. It was very intimidating.

"So class, this is Eleanor. She has been home-schooled up until this point. Like I said earlier, I am sure you will all treat her with the upmost respect"

Miss Marks scanned the classroom for an empty seat. She internally sighed, only one seat looked unoccupied. "Eleanor, why don't you take a sear over there...next to Rafe"

Eleanor looked over at her new seat mate. His hair was was a very distinct dirty blonde. His skin was kind of tanned and his clothes looked very nice, nicer than anything she owned that's for sure. But what she picked up on immediately was his eyes. They seemed unnaturally blue. Sure she had seen her fair share of blue eyes. Her mother had blue eyes for heavens sake. But his were different. They didn't just shine in the sunlight, they seemed to light a fire on the surface of her skin.

She began walking over to where she was going to be for the next few years. He watched the entire time, taking her in. He'd never seen that shade of red before. It was almost the shade of the cherries his mother puts in his lunch box. They were always his favourite part. She was very pale, the blue sort of worn out dungaree's she was wearing popped against her skin. The graphic tea shirt she was wearing underneath was clearly too big for her. 'The Smiths' imprinted on the front. His mother listens to them. He's woken up many times to 'Frankly Mr Shankly'.

She sat down, facing head on. She didn't look at Rafe, too afraid to make eye contact with him. Too afraid she'd go up in flames due to his eyes. That didn't last long though.

"Hey, Eleanor?"

Her heart picked up speed a little. She couldn't ignore him. She didn't want people's first impression of her is that she was a total weirdo who doesn't talk. She still felt like everyone was watching her. When actually no one was looking at her, except one person.

"What's your second name?"

She had to answer, she was taking too long now.

"Lake"

She mumbled, turning her head so they were now making eye contact. Ice meets olive.

"Hmm, it's pretty"

A feeling in her stomach erupted, something unfamiliar. Now they were looking at each other, he could see extra detail. She had freckles sprinkled across her face, over her cheeks and her nose. Almost as if they were painted on. He knew he was staring.

"T-Thanks" She whispered.

Eleanor couldn’t tear her eyes away from the boy. He’s recently let his hair fall more into his face. She never liked the styled way he did his hair before, it just didn’t suit him. An idea his father had no doubt. She was almost surprised he wasn’t involved in the fight himself. Although she had heard through the grape vine that he’d recently took a new turn in life. The boys who would once purchase drugs off him now were left without a dealer. It was also clear based on his knuckles that were usually painted with blood, seemed to be clean. The fire behind his gaze was sizzling under her skin. She was familiar with this look, she’s been on the receiving end of it many times. To Rafe, she was a magnet. Always has been. Ever since that day in the first grade. But he’d fucked that all up. And he knew he had. Eleanor finally found something within herself to bring her eye sight back to the JJ and the boy trapped within his strong grip. She rushed over because it seemed John B wasn’t able to handle it by himself. “JJ stop! I think he gets it” She stressed, grabbing onto his shoulders. Usually JJ snaps out of it when one of the girls yells at him, but whoever this boy was must have really pissed him off, JJ was gone on his rage. The next thing Eleanor knew, she was flung back, her crappy sandals folding under her feet cause her to stumble further back that she would usually. Luckily she managed to reach her hands out behind her to catch her fall slightly. But she still landed hard on her behind, scratching up her legs and palms. There was also a rather large shooting pain going up her ankle. “Ah shit” she mumbled to herself, looking over her injuries. They weren’t deep or anything, but they stung, rocks and sand getting between the broken skin. She felt someone rush beside her, gently clutching onto her shoulder. “Are you okay?!” That doesn’t sound like Pope. She looked up. Once again, that fiery gaze. “Rafe” She whispered, unable to raise her voice any louder. “Is your leg okay? I saw you landed partly on it” “Uh..” she didn’t know what to say, she hadn’t prepared to talk to Rafe today. She thought she’d never talk to him again. She suddenly felt like her younger self again.

“Rafe, how many times do I have to tell you, you can’t push others out the way to win!” Mr Malark the PE teacher had had enough of watching an 8 year old Rafe push his fellow racer down. He watched Rafe huff, roll his eyes and make his way over to the spectators. Eleanor blushed as Rafe jogged over to her. His knees were scraped and grass covered, aching to be cleaned. Luckily, he had his own personal helper ready with her first aid kit. “Hey Ellie, my knees are bleeding! Look!” She scrunched her nose, unzipping the first aid kit and pulling out the cotton buds and plasters. “Come sit next to me please?” He followed her orders, sitting beside her. She pulled out a wipe, softly working her way around the cuts. Rafe hissed, the sting vibrating all around his knee. “Shit that hurts” Eleanor widened her eyes, swotting the boy on the shoulder. “That’s a bad word Rafey, you’ll get in trouble” He shrugged, focussing his attention on the daises around them. Eleanor noticed he’d gone quiet. By this time she’d patched his knee up. “There we go” she kissed his injury “All better” she smiled to herself, looking back up at Rafe. She was suddenly greeted with a daisy chain fastened into a crow. “Thank you princess Ellie, here is your crown” she grinned, eagerly accepting her crown. The daisies complimented her fire red hair perfectly, the white and yellow popping gorgeously. She averted her gaze, not being able to maintain his fierce eyes. Nothing but passion behind those sky blues. “I hope you help me if I ever get hurt?” She uttered, fiddling with the first aid kit in his hands. Rafe’s small hand reached down and held onto her chin, lifting her head so they were eye level. “Of course I will”

“Come on, I’ll take you away from here”

She hadn't spoken to Rafe in about 3 months, which was unlike her. Unlike them. They spent so much time together for over ten years. And everyone knew that. Even the pogues were well aware of the budding friendship between the two. While they never approved, they knew how much he meant to her. So they never troubled her with it.

"It's..uh..it's okay I can handle it, It's fine"

Eleanor had always been stubborn, he should've expected this wasn't going to be easy, but as she cursed when trying to get up, he knew she needed help.

"Please Ellie"

She sighed. Not even the rest of the Pogues called her Ellie. They knew that name was reserved only for Rafe. She looked up at him, the second time that night they had had a real look at each other. Which is more than the past few months. She nodded, allowing the boy to help her to her feet. She grimaced, shooting pains running up her leg. At this, Rafe leaned down, scooping her up in his arms.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, looking around to see if anyone was looking. They weren't.

Rafe smiled, making sure she was secure. "I don't want you walking on your leg, I'm taking you to mine to clean you up" Eleanor hadn't been to Tannyhill since the night she told him she never wanted to see him again. She scrunched her eyes, deciding that if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see Rafe wrapping his arm around her waist. He knew she hated when all eyes were on her. He's always been surprised by this, surely she was used to people staring at her. She was the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

"Hey Rafe! Put her down!"

He turned his head to see Kiara with her arm crossed, a scowl decorating her face. Everyone was aware of Rafe and Eleanor's budding relationship. Ever since that day when they were both seven, it was clear that she was his, and he was hers.

But after that night, there was a new energy in the air. The whole island knew something was wrong. That first time Rafe showed up to the country club without the girl beside him, rambling on about how the tv blew out in her house during the most recent episode of Grey's Anatomy, everyone knew something had happened.

He was was pale. His eyes remained permanently facing the floor and he spoke to no one except the waiter, where he ordered the strongest thing on the menu.

He sat at the bar for 4 hours, ordering and consuming the drinks as if they were glasses of water.

That became his routine for the next 3 months. Drinking and sulking. Topper decided enough was enough. Luckily for him, a party was raging on at the boneyard tonight. Perfect, something to distract the miserable young man.

Which brings us to this. Rafe with his strong grip, wrapped around the pogue princess. A name she hated, but such a name naturally came when you were so closely connected to the kook king.

"It's okay Kiara, I'll call you in the morning." The girl gave her a look as if to say 'I'll be fine', which Kiara knew was the best thing she was going to get out of her. But if she was being honest with herself, she knew she could leave Rafe in her care. When Eleanor was involved, Rafe was always on his best behaviour.

Eleanor kept her eyes down, head rested on her chest. Rafe couldn't help but look down at her and smile. He loved it when she rested on him, relied on him. She was the only person that made him feel he had any worth.

The two made it to his car eventually, sleep washing over her. Rafe could see her eyes fluttering closed as he buckled her in. "You don't have to do all this Rafe, my leg doesn't hurt that bad." Rafe lets out a soft chuckle, securing it properly before looking her in the eyes.

"If you're hurt, nothing else matters to me except making sure you're okay" He meant it with his full heart, and Eleanor knew that, she's always known that.

"Okay"

Rafe circled around the car, hoping in and began the engine. "You okay to come back to mine? I've got ice packs in my bathroom for your leg" Eleanor laughs, "I know, I put them there" Rafe smiles, his chest feeling less tense knowing she was still able to laugh with him.

After a short drive, filled with a comforting silence between the two, the only thing filling the air was the radio, quietly playing Lana Del Ray, which Eleanor realised was part of a playlist she had made for their road trips, they arrived at Tannyhill.

Rafe quickly ran to her side of the car, ready to help her out. She scanned her tired eyes across the building. Truthfully, she'd missed the building, somewhere she found comfort in. All the times her and her mother had gotten into fights, which left her without somewhere to stay for the night, Tannyhill was her safe space.

But all the building did was bring back memories from that night.

"Come on Ellie" Rafe whispered, hoisting her up into his arms like he had done at the party. "I can walk Rafe, I'm fine for god sake" He shook his head with a soft smile gracing his face. "Nice try Ellie"

The house was empty. Wheezie at a friends, Sarah still at the party and Rose and Wade out of the country. Rafe walked the two up the stairs, down the many winding corridors until they landed outside of Rafe's room. She sighed, kicking the door open herself with her good leg.

His room looked the same, the same white walls that had no decoration other than a few photos of New York. His desk was pristine, as well as his floor. But she knew he kept all of his secrets in his desk draws. Photos of his friends, photos of her. The multiple friendship bracelets she'd make him for his birthday every year, as well as the handmade cards she'd spent hours perfecting for him.

He gently placed her on his bed.

"Are you sure they'll be okay with it?

Eleanor bit along her nails as they approached his house. Rafe tore her hand away from her mouth, keeping it in his grasp as they made it to the gate.

She'd never get over the size of his home.

"Yes they'll be fine with it, just say you didn't have anywhere else to stay for the night. There's no way Rose is gonna turn you away" Rafe opened the front door "Dad! My friend needs somewhere to stay for the night" Instead of Wade however, Rose came strutting out of the kitchen.

"Oh hello Rafe darling, who's this?" She smiled sweetly, her soft pink lipstick opened to reveal her pearly whites. Rafe rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Eleanor ma'am. I'm sorry for just randomly showing up" Rafe ushered her into the kitchen. "You haven't Ellie. She didn't have anywhere to go tonight Rose, I thought she could stay here".

Rose looked at her stepson, her smile forming into a smirk. She watched as the boy filled a glass of water for her. She'd never seen the famous Eleanor from across town, only heard about her through stories told by the young boy. Now she was finally getting to meet the girl Rafe cherished.

"Of course you can say here honey, do you want to call a parent to tell them you're here?" Eleanor bit her lip, her hand inching towards her mouth again. Rafe stops her though, giving his step mother a look that say's 'don't go there', Rose presses her lips together, nodding her head. "There's some left over mac and cheese in the fridge if you guys want any food", with that the women smiled and left the two to hang out in the kitchen.

"Thank you Rafey" Eleanor smiled, reaching across to wipe some cheese that had smeared across his face. His cheeks warmed as he took in his friends face. Her beautiful face.

"Let me just grab the icepack"

She watched as he retreated into bathroom, catching herself smiling at his domesticity. But then it dropped.

"How could you say that Rafe?"

"How would you know?"

He came back not long later with a first aid kit in hand. Kneeling in front of her, he propped up her leg on his knee.

"I thought I meant more to you than that!"

"Eleanor.."

His soft gestures made Eleanor's skin start tingling, a common issue she faced when around her Rafe. She looked at him. His face that showed complete concentration, his hands trying their best not to shake while he pressed it onto her skin. He cared so much. Why couldn't he just say it?

"Why would Topper lie? He's my friend too"

"He just misheard me! He wasn't even in the conversation?"

Her eyes turned glassy, water coming to the surface before it dripped onto her thigh. Rafe's head shot up, looking with concern at the girl. Their eyes were fused to each other.

"You really hurt me Rafe" She whispered, crossing her arms in her lap. Rafe blew through his nose, dropping his head , unable to look her in the eyes.

"I know"

"You'd never date a dirty pogue? All they do is fuck everything up for the rest of us? They're worthless wastes on space?" Her voice was getting weaker and weaker.

Once again, Rafe's inability to own up to his mistakes rears it's ugly head. "So what you believe Topper over me now?" Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Why wouldn't I? It's not like you've been terrorizing us for years!"

She stormed over towards her jacket, finished with this conversation. But Rafe can't let someone else have the last word, especially when he knows he's in the wrong.

"Well...it's true isn't it?" As soon as the words left his mouth, the dread started flooding in. Eleanor looked him dead in the eyes, devastation filling them.

"Wow" she uttered, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked down, shaking her head. She turned to his bedroom door, grabbed the hand before turning back to him.

"Never talk to me again" She said, so quite Rafe was surprised he caught it. How could he not.

"I'm sorry"

She bit her lip. There's a first. An apology of Rafe Cameron.

"I was scared"

She shot her head up, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked over his face. Scared? Of what?

"The boy's realised..." Eleanor scooted further down the bed, closer to him as he struggled to speak. "Realised what?"

"Realised I was in love with you"

"So where's the lady, Cameron?"

Rafe turned around to see Jamie, a boy he'd played golf with a couple times stood with a smirk in his face. Rafe threw him a confused look.

"The pogue. Eleanor is it?" the boy chugged his drink. "Oh right, she's in the bathroom"

After grabbing a new drink, Topper began making his way back over to his friend.

"So you aren't fucking her?" He recognised that voice. Jamie Luther. A bit of a gobshite around figure 8. Loves to spread shit for his own entertainment.

"Eleanor? No! I'd never fucking do that..."

Topper listened as Rafe ripped into who he thought was his best friend. It hurt to hear for Topper. Eleanor had always been nice to him. Especially during the rocky years with Sarah. And to hear all of this coming from her best friend? He couldn't handle it. He saw Eleanor walking towards him, a bright smile on her face. That made it even more heart-breaking. "Hi Top, you okay?"

She could read these boy's like a book. Topper looked guiltily at her. "Uh...you should probably know what Rafe said.."

"They started grilling me about you. They could tell from a mile away how I truly felt. You know what I'm like when it comes to talking about my feelings, shut off and deflect. I know It's not a good enough explanation, and I hate that you heard something so incredibly untrue. But I hate more that I made it worse afterwards. When you confronted me, I should have just come clean right there but I did that stupid Rafe thing where I just fight back. I'm sorry Ellie. I'm so sorry"

Eleanor took in each word as she assessed the new situation she's in. Rafe was in love with her? "Since when?"

All of that, and that's all she had to say? She was known to be a girl of few words. "What?"

"Since when have you been in love with me?"

Rafe sighed, getting to his feet before sitting next to her. She watched as he struggled to speak. His mouth opening and closing as he tried to conjure up thoughts. "I think it was when you asked me if I would take care of you if you needed it. It was then that I realised that I would do anything for you" She had a watery smile.

"Rafe we were 8" He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. The girl leaned into his touch. She'd missed it more than she thought. They sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying each others company.

After 5 minutes, she looked up at the boy. He met her eyes.

"I love you too" she whispered before leaning up and planting a kiss that's been years in the making.

The two had always been inseparable, but now instead of teasing punches to the arms, pining looks and many close calls, it was the two being caught making out at parties, seen sneaking out of dinners and many naked rendezvous at the beach.

[im-constantly-fangirling]

Joel Miller Snippet

A/N: Hey! I'm starting to dabble in some tlou fics but it's gonna be a long one! I've got a snippet of it below the cut, feel free to send your opinions my way :) It's kind of an au but like not really, idk how to describe it. Like there's no outbreak but Joel still finds his way to Jackson with Ellie.

au!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Warnings: none in the snippet

Summary: As a bartender, you know every single face in Jackson. When a grumpy but kind-at-heart traveler makes his way into the diner you work at, you can't help but be curious.

Working at the diner in Jackson was no easy job.

It seemed that people had a borderline excessive appetite for alcohol- and they relied on you to fulfill it. You didn’t mind the work, as it numbed you the way a bottle could, but you supposed you could do without the yelling, obscene comments, and the general carelessness of the people who couldn’t really hold their liquor.

The one benefit you found with being a bartender was information. Every small town had its fair share of gossip, and Jackson definitely delivered. Travelers came and went, and those who stayed would alter the social routine of Jackson just a little bit. You were a town full of shattered pieces of what were once whole people, but those pieces of glass joined to make a stunning mosaic- no matter how jagged and uneven it was.

It was just another ordinary day when the door to the bar opened, revealing an unfamiliar face. A swift silence wafted through the bar before the man walked in and Tommy followed behind. A sigh of relief seemed to go through every one. The bar resumed its normal revelry.

You were cleaning a glass with a rag when Tommy and the man walked up to the bar. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Joel.”

You smiled at him, putting the glass down and flipping the rag over your shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Joel,” you greeted him. He didn't respond with more than a grunt and a nod, but you didn’t mind. He had dirt smudged over his face, his flannel shirt, his forearms. Scars adorned any amount of skin that showed. And those eyes…

Holding his gaze, you almost saw the emptiness behind them. As if he had nothing left in him. This was a man who had seen hell.

If Tommy noticed his brother’s grumpiness, he certainly didn’t care to comment on it. “Y/n’s the best bartender in town. If you treat her real nice, she might slip you a free drink or two,” he said, whispering the last part conspiratorily.

You chuckled, lightly smacking Tommy on the shoulder. “Don’t go around telling everyone, now,” you teased. “But since you’re Tommy’s brother, I’ll get you your first drink on the house. Any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine.”

Joel nodded gratefully- or you understood it to be gratefully- before clearing his throat. “I’ll just take the strongest whiskey you’ve got.” Even his voice was rough. You wondered if there was a single part of him that the world hadn’t taken away from him. “But don’t go making a habit out of giving me a free drink. I’d be more than happy to pay,” he declared while taking a seat. The soft southern lilt of his voice made you smile. It had been a while since you heard that accent.

Tommy sat on the bar stool and leaned his head in his hand. “And I’ll take some gin, please.”

You turned around, letting the brothers get reacquainted while you served them their drinks. Their voices got drowned out by the laughter in the bar- but every now and then, when business was slow, you’d quietly make your way over to their side of the bar. 

“-she’s everything to me, Tommy. I’ll take some of her shifts. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves to just relax,” you heard Joel say.

Huh, you wondered. Didn’t peg him for the married type. You couldn’t deny your disappointment, but you couldn’t stop smiling lightly. The grumpy man had a soft spot. It was odd but endearing to watch his eyebrows round out at the edges.

Tommy lightly hummed. “As long as the patrols get done, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” He paused. “Just…be careful, Joel. People around here are really close knit. You don’t want to go around pissing people off by being all-”

“Pissy?” Joel finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Look, I don’t plan on staying long, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Ma’am, can I get another?” you heard a man’s voice call out. He was almost slumped against the bar, his hand held up limply in the air. 

You wiped the back of your hand against your forehead. “Bill, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you trailed off.

Bill didn’t seem to like that answer, and you felt your heart start speeding up. “Just give me one more! I wasn’t fucking asking,” his voice slurred, echoing throughout the bar. It was as if he sucked the life right out of the building. No one moved.

You stared at Bill, your eyes hardening. “This happens every week, Bill. Aren’t you sick of this little tradition we have going on? Cause I am.” You put your hands together into a fist and leaned against the bar, letting your face get close to Bill’s. “You reek of piss and you’re acting like a lazy bum. How about you go back home and sleep the alcohol off before you get dragged out?”

Bill’s sweaty hands grab your arm. “What the fuck did you say?”

You felt your palms start sweating. “Bill,” you said calmly. “Get a hold of yourself, okay? You don’t gotta be like this.”

Bill growled loudly at you, spit flying from his mouth, making your face scrunch up with disgust. At the sound of his growl, several other townspeople stood up from their chairs, getting ready to intervene if needed. You saw them all slightly leaning forward, as if they’d run for Bill the second he stepped out of line.

One of Bill’s hands let go of your arm in favor of roughly grabbing your chin. You closed your eyes and tried turning away from his grip, but his alcohol-ridden mind had no semblance of propriety, and he held your chin and cheeks in a vice-like grip. “Listen here, you insolent-”

“Hey!” another voice boomed. It was rough, like the feeling of the tough boar bristles on your hair comb. Joel. “Don’t touch her!”

...

Lmk what you guys think! Hopefully I can put it out soon <3

[lowkeyrobin]

ive been gone for like a bajillion years now but I'm back with a request. idk if your comfortable with this and if not just delete this or use this as a way to tell me and others but what if we got the mcyt with a reader with a taste in more explicit music? like it's so bad my playlist is so explicit but all the songs low-key be vibe. you don't have to be specific (you also don't even need to write this) but just like mcyt would be looking for some songs to play on the readers Spotify and all their playlists are just either songs full of cursing or just explicit topics lmao

once again, don't write this if you don't want to, either way your writing is chefs kiss

🎀 anon

hi 🎀!! missed you lol ; but sure I can do this! I listen to a lot of non family friendly shit too dw haha ; kept the cast short cause like idrk I lost ideas after a while (I think this'll be my new auto-cast but we'll see) ; I decided to make the music taste differ with each so yeah, hopefully I did this right idrk 😭🙏 I can't think of much music with actually like explicit topics for some reason so like idk man

MCYT ; expletive music

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, maxggs & quackity

warnings ; language, sexual jokes

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you listen to rap/hip hop/rnb

the drake/kendrick beef? ofc you're w kendrick tf. tommy is too, he's vibing and laughing with the music/dissing

his favorite songs that you listen too are euphoria, type shit, and i

he likes kendrick & metro boomin in general

he also likes the weeknd, megan, and some others

he can't help but laugh when Megan's more sexual music comes on but he will happily sing along to diss tracks and more sing along type songs

he knows all the lyrics to HISS and type shit front and back cause you play them so much (and cobra (rock remix))

he doesn't mind the cursing at all, he couldn't care less

all he cares about is that you're enjoying what you wanna enjoy 🙏

he enjoys the cooler rnb/rap/hip hop too, but he prefers the angry/dissing stuff a bit more

TUBBO

you listen to mostly sleep token, spiritbox, halestorm, and linkin park

it's not his full cup of tea but he enjoys it enough

his favorites are jaws, nazareth, the little things give you away, the way that you were, take me back to eden, and freak like me

he knows all the words to jaws and the little things give you away for you cause you play them so much

he doesn't give a shit what you listen to or what it's about, as long as you're happy

RANBOO

you like suicideboys / lil peep / bones type rap, like SoundCloud rapper rap 😭

they aren't the biggest fan but they couldn't care, they don't care about explicitives either

he enjoys not even ghosts are this empty, save that shit, vibe, sex with my ex sodium, grey gods, etc

they don't seem like the type to care for rap that much but hey you never know

smiles everytime you sing/rap along, he finds it funny in an adoring way

he'll do his best to learn the words but cannot promise he's completely right

he even recommends songs you listen to to others, he'll ask and make sure he got the right title and everything

"What's that song with the crown of thorns lyric?"

"grey gods"

"Thanks, I'm adding it to my playlist"

"oh?"

FREDDIE BADLINU

you like early 2000s rock lol (real omg)

lots of linkin park, halestorm, slipknot, staind, but also in this moment, pretty reckless, spiritbox, and i prevail

he doesn't listen to heavy music much but he'll enjoy it for you

he really enjoys whore (itm) because of the intro chords

his favorites that you play around him are bloody creature poster girl, duality, the void, fade and miss nothing

he doesn't really know the words well but he still enjoys it, he's just yet to really get into it/it's not really his thing

MAXGGS

like Tommy, you listen to mostly rap/hip hop/rnb

you're more on the 90s/early 2000s side though

like tupac, 50 cent, ice cube, the pharcycles, older rihanna stuff, eminem, jay-z, ne-yo, outkast, yknow

happily vibes with you, couldn't care less about explicitives

favorite songs you play around him are numb, hit em up, 2 of amerikaz most wanted, 21 questions, empire state of mind, and so fresh so clean

he gets much more into your type of music after introducing him to it

will happily learn all the lyrics to sing along with you 🙏🙏

ALEX QUACKITY

you listen mostly to like the weeknd, metro boomin, kendrick lamar etc

he does too so like perfect match bro

your favorites together are like that, type shit, house of balloons, money trees, creepin, not like us, and united in grief

you sing along together and act like you're in edits LMAO

literally always talking about rap beef together cause it's funny

you're both scared of meet the grahams

[incesthemes]

as i've rewatched seasons 1 and 2 of supernatural i've been pondering and hypothesizing reasons why john was so adamant on not letting sam know about his destiny. why he was so intent on keeping this secret, why he didn't want sam knowing about monsters, why his role in their hunts appeared to be research-oriented and thus away from the action. my perspective on ignorance and censorship is that it enables further harm, so if john were going to effectively protect sam, it would stand to reason that sam should have a comprehensive understanding of his destiny and what he's up against: give him the tools to fight.

this is obviously not the route john went, so then i have to question why that is—what about censorship was so appealing to him that he thought it not only the best way to keep sam safe, but perhaps even the only way to keep him safe, based on how he begged even dean to keep sam's fate a secret from him in his final words?

so i got to thinking. namely, about the fact that azazel wants sam to be hunting: he killed jessica with the intent to drag him back into the life, which implies that if sam is hunting, he is going down the path azazel wants him to go—he's following his destiny. this aligns with the everpresent theme throughout season 1 that hunting is a monstrous lifestyle, that hunting turns people into monsters. if sam is destined to become a monster, then hunting is the most sure-fire way to get him there.

if azazel wants sam to hunt, then john would need to take the logical opposition and keep sam out of hunting—so, he wouldn't tell sam about monsters until he has to, he'd give sam more passive roles once sam is participating in hunts, he'd train sam in self-defense but not explain why. and importantly, he wouldn't talk about mary, who is the root cause of this lifestyle, the impetus for their revenge quest, more than he has to. if the goal is to keep sam as far away from hunting as possible, and if john is someone who thinks ignorance keeps someone safe, then this more or less explains most of how sam was raised: on the fringes of the family, excluded and sheltered.

but weirdly enough, it wasn't until i was reading east of eden the other night that i finally understood the perspective being presented: late in the novel, the character lee says "when the first innocence is gone, you can't stop."

it made me remember that sam picks. he is a character who wants to understand the world around him and his place in it. if something is bothering him, he turns it over in his head until it consumes him. dean places doubt in sam's head in 2x10 and it obliterates him by 2x11. he's convinced he's going to become some horrible monster because he never stops thinking and trying to figure things out. when his memory is wiped in 4x17 and normal guy sam wesson finds out his coworker is the guy from his weird dreams, he pursues him relentlessly until they're back hunting. when he discovers the wall death put in his mind to keep his hell trauma out in season 6, he pushes and can't stop until it starts crumbling around him. he's intelligent and clever and he wants to know everything. and when he doesn't know, he picks.

and the only way to stop a person like that from picking is to not let them know that there's something to pick at in the first place. that's what the quote from east of eden means: once you catch wind of something, you want to pursue it until you're satisfied. curiosity kills the cat.

and what john is up against is fate itself. something that isn't supposed to be messed with, something that's supposed to be unavoidable. so trying to thwart it is tricky business. he has to be careful.

i think working under that logic his response makes sense, even if it wound up being a self-fulfilling prophecy anyway—sam was always going to find out, and sam was always going to pick. there was nothing john could do in the end to stop it, and trying to keep sam ignorant only made him that much more desperate to know. but that's the great tragedy of it all: john was given an impossible choice, and he's a deeply flawed character. he did what he thought was best, and it only made things worse.

i like this interpretation because it ties all of john's choices together really well; it explains a lot about his character and gives a nuanced and rather reasonable explanation for why he did what he did: a dad who wants the best for his kid does what he believes will set him up on the path to success. when the first innocence is gone, you can't stop—so john does his damnedest to keep sam innocent, even to his dying breath.

the problem comes down to that someone's damnedest isn't always good enough, and that sometimes someone's damnedest ends up benefiting the enemy instead.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Falling Slowly - Chapter 10

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I'm sorry this took so long to post! Originally this was supposed to be it, but this chapter took a lot more to write than I anticipated, so you'll have one more chapter after this one!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear 

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

Tommy was right about Joel. Not only did he refuse to come, he got into an argument with Tommy, calling him all sorts of names before storming out. Rose and Sarah both think he's just scared of losing Tommy, and they're probably right. My pants would be engulfed in flames if I said I wasn't scared shitless.

But the alternative is staying here and, as much as I love this cabin and our family, we can't stay here with this raider situation. I cannot lose my husband.

Tommy ends up having to do one more raider mission, but he knows that I'm packing up our things, quietly. Jax is mostly upset about leaving Sarah, but he understands why we have to leave. He may only be 13, but he's fairly observant. He's seen the weight on his father's shoulders and knows that it can't stay that way.

I get everything gathered up, provisions, any personal items that we'd need, like our packs. I fill up canteens and water canisters they had lifted from an old Walmart a couple years back. When Tommy and Joel return, Tommy actually has a little pep in his step. He pulls me in for a hug, whispering in my ear.

"I have a Firefly meetup location."

That had been the reason Tommy had gone out once more, to scout more information about the Fireflies. I don't know how he did it, but he did, the scowl on Joel's face all the confirmation I need to know it's legit.

We all take full showers, not knowing when we'll have this luxury again, Tommy and I lingering a little longer than was necessary in ours. After a full night's rest, or as much rest as we can get, when the sun has barely risen, we're putting the last of our things in the back of the SUV. Rose and Sarah had come down and made breakfast while we finished packing and loading. Joel had come down but said nothing, eating silently as we all joked and ate, trying to push away the real idea that we may never see each other again.

Rose and Sarah walk Jax and I to the SUV out front, idle chatter trying to cover up how scared we were. Tommy and Joel are still inside and we figured we would give them their space.

"If he changes his mind, just find the Fireflies. They'll know where we are," I reassure Rose as she leans over to hug me. "Even if we end up leaving them, we'll leave word with where we go."

Rose nods against me. "Did you get the extra med kit I stashed in your bag?"

I chuckle. "Yeah. Thanks, mom."

She pulls back and cups my face. "Please be careful."

"You too."

She hugs me briefly again before stepping back. "Who knows, maybe Joel will change his mind."

Sarah blows a raspberry with her tongue. "Yeah, that'll happen."

I pull Sarah to me, still in shock that she's somehow 24 and not 12. A whole entire ass adult. She hugs me tight, like if she squeezes just a bit harder that I won't go.

"You watch out for your dad, Sarah. Don't let him get in his head. You know how he is."

She nods and pulls back, wiping tears from her face. "Pulling his head out of his ass should be fun."

Fuck I'm gonna miss this kid.

The front door opens and Tommy and Joel walk out, Tommy chatting away to a stoic faced Joel.

"...can change your mind, you know. We can pack everything up and be gone in a couple hours?" Tommy ends with a hopeful note, but his face quickly falls as Joel shakes his head.

"I already think you're fucking stupid for leaving this place."

"Fair enough. Well, you know how to find us." Tommy tosses his pack in the backseat and turns to give Joel a hug, their embrace lasting a little longer than it normally would have. Tommy moves on to Rose and Sarah, Joel stepping back to give them their space.

I walk up to him and squeeze his hand, his brown eyes, so like his brothers but so very different, finding mine. "Please think about it, Joel. Even without the Raiders, you know it's only a matter of time before the kids would want to leave and make their own lives."

He nods. "I can't promise we'll leave, but I promise to think on it."

"I'll take it."

Joel pulls me in for a hug, which always still surprises me a little, as I'd thought for the longest time that he hated me, only to find out he was pissed at Tommy for not asking me out for forever.

"Uncle Joel?" Jax cuts into our embrace and Joel whispers something in his ear, which must have been some joke between them because Jax starts laughing and Joel even cracked a small smile.

"We gotta get going, Daisy." Tommy touches my arm and I look at him, nodding before looking back at everyone, exchanging our last goodbyes and I love you's.

Driving away from our little corner of this new world into an uncertain one was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

"Welcome to the Fireflies," A woman named Marlene, who appears to be the big leader, welcomes us into their makeshift camp.

"Thanks for having us," Tommy shakes her hand and she nods.

"Anyone willing and able to join the fight. And from what I hear, you're an excellent shot. Military background?"

"Desert Storm."

Marlene nods. "We could definitely use that. Everyone pulls their weight around here. What can you two offer?" Marlene looks pointedly at me and Jax and it's then I realize that she wouldn't give two flying fucks about us if it it were between the mission and us. Something to keep an eye on.

"I'm really skilled with gardening."

"I swear this woman could grow an apple tree from a broken stick," Tommy chuckles.

"That's great but we don't really have much need for a gardener."

"Oh. Well I'm pretty good with medicine. My...sister in law was a doctor. I helped her a lot."

"Medicine? That we can definitely use. What about you?" She turns to Jax, who's eyes widen at being addressed directly, which make sense since he's only talked to us since he was 3.

"I uh, I'm good with ani-"

"He was learning medicine. Alongside me. He makes a good assistant."

Marlene looks between me and Jax for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Both of you report to the med room in the morning. You all have the rest of the night to settle in. Your room is at the end of the hall, the door with the Barbie sticker on it. I'll see you in the morning, Tommy." Marlene walks off, another Firefly immediately approaching her and speaking in a low voice.

"Well. Let's go see where our for now home is."

Tommy picks up his pack and a bag, all of us copying his movements, and heads down the dingy hallway. I'm sure this building was gorgeous, back in it's day. But the years since the outbreak haven't been kind, water had leaked through the roof, the wallpaper peeling back in places, piles of rubbish strewn about or pushed aside to make a path. We reach the door with the Barbie sticker and Tommy pushes inside, the room not much cleaner than the hallway. There were two beds in this once hotel room, but I'm not certain I want to sleep on them.

"I miss home," Jax says under his breath.

"Yeah, bud. Me too. But this is an adventure! And temporary. We can deal with this."

I appreciate his optimism, but I am also doubtful about the conditions of our living situation changing while with the roaming Firelfies.

Life with the Fireflies was constantly busy. It seemed like they were trying to fight multiple battles, people often going on missions away for weeks at a time, our camp always on the move and not just in one area but across the country. Tommy was often away, either helping Marlene strategize or actually putting his own boots on the ground. I hated when he had to do that. He'd get this look in his eyes, much like when he has PTSD dreams about his time in the Army.

After a time, Jax asked me why I had lied to Marlene about him helping with medical things as opposed to his gift with animals. I told him I wanted him close, which was the truth. It wasn't that I thought he wasn't capable, but I wanted him near me in case something happened. I didn't trust them. Not entirely.

About 2 years in, we were stationed outside of the Denver QZ, which was still controlled by FEDRA. It took them a few months of scouting and gathering intel before Marlene finally approached Tommy and another member, Eugene, about infiltrating the QZ, attacking them from the inside.

"I'm sorry, she wants you to be, what, a terrorist cell or something?" I couldn't believe what Tommy was telling me. I knew he had to be doing some things he didn't like, his PTSD was really bad these days, but this?

He nods. "Yeah, something like that. Except we aren't terrorists, Daisy."

I count on my fingers. "Infiltrating a city, gathering more intel, setting off bombs or some shit, and probably fucking.. I don't know, torturing people or whatever terrorists do? That's not terrorism?"

He shakes his head. "It's not like that, Daisy. FEDRA is a military dictatorship. Those civilians in there are struggling and dying under their bullshit terms."

I scoff. "So you're going to free them from their oppressors by bombing them?"

He pauses. "I don't make the call."

"No. You just follow orders." The anger and hurt in Tommy's eyes cut into me and I sigh. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I am. I'm just...I'm scared."

The anger softens and he takes my hand. "I know. I am too. But those people need our help."

6 months. Tommy had been gone in his "not terrorist cell" for 6 months. Marlene just avoided me now, not even bothering to see me when I demanded an update. She kept telling me she'd tell me when she knew something, but how do I trust her? She sends her people in like pawns, their deaths for the cause are justified in her eyes.

I remember the day he left. A soft kiss to my lips in my early morning daze, the press of his hips against mine, my moans catching in my throat as we have to be nearly silent.

I adjust his jacket by the front door, smoothing it down before running my fingers over his hair, which he'd let get a little longer these days, the curls sometimes tumbling over his forehead.

"I promise I'll come back, sweetheart."

"You better. Or I'm coming in the afterlife and dragging your ass back out."

He laughs, a sound I had become unfamiliar with, and it brings tears to my eyes. He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears. "I don't doubt that for a second."

"Please be safe. And don't be stupid."

He pulls me to him, my face nuzzling into his chest as I inhale his scent, trying desperately to etch it into my memory.

"I love you, Daisy. Keep Jax close."

"I will. I love you."

One last kiss, a swipe of his tongue in my mouth and he's gone, a small smile and freckles the last image of him before the door closed. He'd told me a few weeks, maybe a month tops. Or 2.

But it had been 6. Half a year.

Jax turned 16 shortly after Tommy had left and I could hear them trying to recruit him to be boots on the ground. Not that age really matters to them. I've seen them parade kids through here, no more than 11, putting a weapon in their hands and telling them they have a chance to fight for freedom. But Jax will have none of it. He took my warning when we first joined and poured himself into his role as a medical assistant, helping the other healers but always staying near me. I knew his heart wasn't in it, not like it was with animals. But that calming nature the animals loved allowed him to calm anyone who came in, whether they were dying or not.

It was late. I sent Jax to our room, letting him crash a bit earlier than normal because he just looked so weary. I start to tidy things up a bit, never really having the time to during the day. When I put the last tray up, I hear shuffling and mumbled voices in the hall. I listen, not to eavesdrop but to hear if they were coming my way. They were, and in a bit of a hurry. The door is kicked open and 2 men enter, carrying a 3rd man in between them.

Tommy.

Relief and terror washed over me as I take him in, the 2 men laying him on the makeshift examination table. I swallow down everything to focus on the healing part. There would be time for more later.

"Daisy, can you handle this?" Marlene asks from somewhere in the dingy room.

I nod, a tray already in my hand. I bark orders at one of the men and he scurries about, trying to gather up the things I need. Tommy lays on the table, nearly unconscious, the other man, Eugene, has his hand pressed tight against Tommy's side.

"What h-happened?" I manage to choke out.

Eugene looks at Marlene for permission and I see red.

"If my husband dies on this table because it's some classified-"

"Shrapnel. We didn't see the grenade. Tommy saw it last minute and pushed me out of the way. He cleared the blast but it sent shit flying."

Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK. Not the time to panic.

"Marlene, go wake Tenari. I'll need another pair of hands."

"What about Jax?"

"He doesn't need to see this."

She nods and heads out the door, setting a brisk pace.

I pour some alcohol over my hands and wipe them together, disinfecting them as best as I can. "Ok, Eugene. I need you to move your hands so I can see."

"Yes ma'am. I just didn't want it to jiggle."

I swallow hard and can't help the gasp that leaves my lips when Eugene's hands are clear of Tommy's body. A sharp piece of metal sticks out from the side of his abdomen at a strange angle, his shirt ripped and soaked in blood. The other man comes back with the supplies just as Tenari comes in. She glances at Tommy and immediately moves to our makeshift medicine cabinet.

Fuck. I wish Rose was here. This is very out of my league. But she did tell me a bit about foreign objects in the body. It's not just the shrapnel I'm worried about. It's how dirty the metal was.

"His blood is red so it missed his liver," I note as Tenari sets down some herbs and medicines next to the bandages and rags that the other man had brought.

"That's something at least. You want me to stitch? You know I have a steady hand."

I nod. "Yeah. That might be best. I'll get by his head."

Eugene stands next to me, grabbing Tommy's arm. The other man moves by his feet. Marlene comes back in with someone else, each of them taking another leg and arm. I lean over his face, his eyes still closed, placing my hands on his cheeks.

"He's going to wake up when I pour this on him and take it out. You gotta hold him still. Everyone ready?" A quick glance and everyone nods.

Tenari wastes no time. In one quick move, she picks up the alcohol bottle and dumps it on the wound. Tommy immediately wakes, shrieking and yelling, his body pushing against everyone holding him down as the alcohol burns him.

"Hey baby. Ssshhh it's me. It's Daisy."

His eyes flash up to mine, tears leaking from them. "Make it stop, Daisy," His voice is small and raspy, choking back pain.

"I know, baby. I know. But the alcohol is doing its job. But, hey look at me," Tommy's eyes had started to wander, noticing Tenari grabbing something from the little side table.

"Tell me."

"You took shrapnel. It doesn't appear to have hit your liver, which is good. But we have to take it out and stitch you up. You gotta stay still, which we will help you with."

"This is gonna fuckin' suck, isn't it?"

I smile a little down at him, brushing some curls from his forehead. "Yeah, baby. It's going to really suck. But I'll be right here, ok? Feel my hands on you? I'm right here."

He's scared, but he'd never admit it. A moment's pause before he nods. "Just do it."

Tenari looks around at us and we nod, everyone bracing. My eyes don't leave his, not when she pulls out the shrapnel, not when the scream erupts from my husband's throat, not when he involuntarily pushes against everyone, his body trying to escape the pain. I call his name and he looks at me, pain in his eyes and I smile gently at him. I start to sing, one of his favorites and he focuses his attention on me, grunting out when Tenari starts to sew his skin back together. By the time she's done, he's stopped fighting it, his eyes solely fixed on me. Tenari places a hand on my arm, letting me know she's finished. Everyone lets him go and I end the song, Tommy still looking at me, a faraway look on his face as his eyes start to close from the stress of it all.

"You got it from here?" Tenari asks.

I nod. "I got it. Thank you."

She squeezes my arm before gathering up all the things that need to be washed, Eugene and the other man helping her. As they leave, I hear Marlene tell Eugene he needs to find his wife. Something about her not being happy.

I sit on the stool next to Tommy's makeshift bed, a clean rag and a bowl with soapy water in my hand. I start to clean him, making sure all of the blood is wiped away so we can keep a good eye on his stitches. I make a poultice from our medical stash, placing it over his stitches so it can hopefully keep away any infection. We managed to get some antibiotics in him, but who knows if those still work after all this time?

When I'm all cleaned up, I sit back down in the chair next to his bed, taking his hand in mine. I lace my fingers with his, using my other hand to push his hand back from his face.

And then I lose it.

Tears pour from my eyes like I've never cried before. My body shakes, my stomach in knots. My heart feels simultaneously like it's being ripped from my chest but also relieved that he's finally back with us. I calm down enough to kiss his cheek, speaking directly into his ear.

"You are not allowed to die on me, Tommy Miller.....please don't die on me."

Tommy sleeps for nearly 3 days straight, only waking once to take a sip of water before slipping back into sleep. Tenari says that's a good thing, that his body is trying to heal.

He was a little warm that first day, but by the second he was cooling down. By the end of the third day, any trace of a fever was gone. The strong smelling poultice was doing its work.

"Daisy?"

He croaks out my name and my head snaps up from where I had been dosing off next to him.

"Tommy! Hey baby, how do you feel?" I feel him squeeze my hand. Even though it's weaker than normal, I still think that's a good sign.

"Like I had a piece of metal ripped from my stomach."

I chuckle, unable to stop the tears that started flowing the second I heard his voice. He reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek.

"Hey none of that. You really think a dinky piece of metal is gonna take me away from my family?"

I sob, nodding. "Either that or infection."

"Come here."

He pulls me to him as best he can, holding me while I sob into his chest, speaking gentle phrases into my ear to calm me.

"I'm not going anywhere, Daisy. Well, I'm not dying anyway."

I sit upright, looking him straight in the eyes. "Don't tell me you're going on another mission?"

He shakes his head. "No, baby. I think...I think we need to leave."

Relief surges through me. "Are you serious?"

He nods. "When I was in the QZ, I managed to get a job working the radio. Lied. Told them I'd had experience. Anyway, I was listening in one night and I heard some people, not in the QZ, talking about some settlement up north. Somewhere in Wyoming."

"Wyoming is fairly large, Tommy."

"Yeah, I know. Supposedly it's somewhere in Teton County."

"Another QZ?"

"No, nothing like that." He grunts, but declines my offer of more pain meds. "It's like a proper settlement or somethin'. They didn't hear much after a few radio sessions, but they did say they were working on the radio."

"So it could be overrun? Or non existent?"

Tommy shrugs. "I think it's worth a shot."

"And...and what if it's not real? Or overrun?"

He takes a deep breath and winces. "Then we find some remote cabin up there and figure it out."

Being with the Fireflies isn't really safe. We've had more close encounters with clickers being with the Fireflies than we ever have. The QZ's didn't look like great places to live either. I guess we have as decent a chance as any trying to find this place. We still have our truck so at least it won't be entirely on foot.

"Get Jax. We should ask him," Tommy gestures towards the door to the stairs that leads to our little room.

"He's only 17."

"Yeah. A man."

"17, Tommy."

"This world is different. He's smart. Just...let's hear his opinion."

Jax immediately agrees to leave, tired of this hectic life, tired of the Fireflies trying to take the medicine from his hands and replace it with a weapon.

And so, a month or so later at the start of fall, once Tommy has mostly healed, we pack up and leave the Fireflies, telling Marlene where we were heading just in case Joel or Rose or Sarah reach out. I can tell Marlene isn't happy about Tommy leaving, but she did say we were always free to go.

This time, I don't look back.

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