#chapell....i think i wanna see her live one day

[sapphic-woes]

Hey I'm not over Chapell please listen to these and cry with me :)

[pearlcigs]

⋆ make a woman out of me

christian!virgin!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

warnings ⋆ 2.95k ⋆ smut, i might get cancelled 🤷‍♀️, reader (non penetrative) virginity loss, religious themes, ellie is 19, reader is 18, pastor's daughter!reader, mentions of homophobia, alludes to reader's parents being homophobic, ellie smokes weed, pet names (pretty girl, babe, honey, baby, good girl), cursing, first kiss, corruption, corruption kink, oral (r recieving)

time moved slowly within the parameters of jackson. the same familiar faces, day in and day out. though, it was comforting living in such a community. the horrors of the world beyond the walls that stood tall was something you rarely wanted to think about. it made you sick to your stomach to think of your friends, loved ones, even people you weren't particularly close with, outside of the safe walls, being face to face with whatever monsters marred the unhabitual world.

your parents were strict with religion, your father being the only self acclaimed paster that jackson has ever had to offer. there was never a time you could remember, even before finding refuge in the cozy town, where your parents weren't devout. vivid memories of your mother's fingers gliding over the cross necklace she wore around her neck when you would get in trouble. disappointed sighs and signs of the cross, begging the lord above for forgiveness, explaining to the sky you were too young to know what you've done was a sin.

the bible was followed closely in your home, and you obliged without caution. you prayed, attended your father's mass sessions in the tiny chapel just down the road where he preached the bible, wore the holy cross around your neck to show your devotion, you've read the old torn and withered bible you were so lucky to find front to back. religion was all you've ever known and you had found no reason to ever question the man who hung on your wooden walls, hanging from a cross with his hands and feed nailed to it like an animal. that was, until ellie.

"come on, don't you wanna jus' see what it feels like?" ellie teased, waving the joint in front of your face like a taunt. "no thank you." you replied, sitting at the foot of her bed, legs crossed, eyes wandering around her room. when ellie first came to jackson you were infatuated with her, dwindling it down to pure want but only of friendship. "good girl, that's what you say when someone offers you this shit." ellie moves the weed away from your face, inhaling it and then turning away to exhale the smoke away from you.

it started with just friendly smiles, offering to show her around and help her get to know everyone. she was wary of you. honestly, afraid of your friendly demeanor. people on the outside of the jackson walls were cruel and vicious, she thought, with no doubt in her mind, you were being friendly to lure her into some kind of trap. she danced around you with caution, keeping her distance but also decidingly giving you a chance. she quickly became fond of you, your personality, your looks. everything about you appealed to ellie and something about that made you proud, even more eager to befriend her.

the words 'good girl' ring from her mouth and you're not sure how to respond. was there even a proper response to your best friend calling you that? a simple nod was all you could come up with. watching her lips intently as she blew the smoke out of her lungs. your fingers came up to your neck, fiddling with the cross necklace around your neck, a habit passed down from your mother. ellie never paid much attention to your shy outlook on life. you were reserved and a part of her liked that she had so much of you to herself.

it wasn't until you were 17 that you finally came to terms with the fact that your infatuation was more than just a yearning to be her friend. tears of guilt streaming down your face in the confessional at the shoddy chapel, divider between you and the young volunteer who was ready to beg jesus to abolish your sins. "i'm a girl... and i like another girl." you sniffled, lowering the pitch of your voice instinctively so he wouldn't see past your anonymity. ache in your heart when silence was returned, until soft mutterings of a prayer, asking jesus to forgive your tainted heart.

ellie extended her arms behind her head, a small stretch that gave you big feelings. her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her stomach. you swallowed harshly, wondering why god would tempt you with something like this. a soft sigh emits from ellie's lips, flicking the almost finished joint into a nearby makeshift ashtray. another soft sigh falling from her perfect lips. intent eyes trying to be secretive of the no less then unholy thoughts that you were being tempted with.

ellie was put off at first by your fervent religion. her experiences were tainted, never having a good visual of what a healthy relationship with god looked like. she was unsure if you were going to try and convert her into some pious worshipper. you weren't secretive of your religion and that much was enough to make ellie suspicious. with time she realized you were different from the other religious people she's met. only bringing up your religion or anything to do with it when you were directly asked or if it was really important to speak about.

"whatchu lookin' at, pretty girl?" she chuckled as she noticed the way your eyes locked onto her, like if you looked away she'd be gone. it wasn't unusual for ellie to be flirty or to make casual remarks about how pretty you were. still, every time she did your cheeks were adorned in a rosy color. "just you, i guess. i dunno..." you answered back quickly, hoping that answer was enough to satisfy her eager curiosity. "yeah? just me? got something you wanna say to me?" she was just joking around, trying to get you riled up and flustered but you did have things you wanted to say to her.

"no." you answered, though you were sure she wasn't expecting an actual response. "no? yikes, babe, i'm hurt, thought we had somethin' real here." she smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach become tongue tied. one thing you loved about ellie above all things was her smile, how the skin around her eyes scrunched up just the tiniest bit, the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. everything about her smile made your head spin.

"els, i like you." the words slip out of your mouth before you could even process what was going on. her smile that coerced you to confess to her in the first place falters. "i'm sorry?" she questions, unsure if you meant what she thought you did. you had never said anything that led ellie to believe you were homophobic or that you thought all gay people were sinners like most of the older people who were religious in jackson did. but still she was careful to keep her sexuality from you, strongly assured you would take after your parents' stance on homosexuality.

"i... i don't know why i said that." you say, truthfully. mouth slightly agape and eyes widened with shock that you'd just outed yourself after years of trying to force down your feelings. there was a silence between the two of you. silence wasn't uncommon around each other, sometimes the both of you preferring to spend your time together quietly as a way to unwind after a treacherous day. but this silence was different than those times. ellies breath was caught in her throat, words jumbled on her tongue.

she only began reacting when she saw the panic on your face, followed by your eyes becoming glassy. "hey, hey. don't cry. it's okay." she comforted, sitting up and placing a hand on your knee. she wasn't good at comforting people, you were well aware of that. "i didn't mean to.." you admitted, voice timid and quiet, still uncertain to how she would react. "hey, it's okay, honey." the term of endearment sliding off her tongue like she was meant to call you that for the rest of your lives.

"i'm not mad." ellie affirms, her tone soft, knowing how afraid of other people's anger you are. another flash of silence emerges, just you and ellie staring at each other. neither of you knowing what to say. she pitied you, seeing how much you resented yourself. your bottom lip slotted between your teeth, biting hard enough to potentially draw blood. "don't do that..." she mutters, gently running her thumb over your partially chapped lips, pulling your bottom lip out of your teeth's grasp.

your breath hitches, a small shudder traveling up your spine. your eyes locked on hers, your heart beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. ellie's eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i've liked you for a while." you admit, knowing there was no going back at this point. "oh, yeah?" her voice was low, some would even describe as seductive. her thumb still lingering on your bottom lip. "yeah." you whisper back, your eyes now flickering down to her lips.

ellie's hand moves to your jaw. her eyes flicking down to your lips one last time before she leans down and presses her lips against yours. her lips are soft, just like you had imagined. she seems skilled, like she knew what she was doing and what the end goal was. a small smile forming on her face as she realizes you have no idea what you're doing. “like this.” she mumbles against your lips acutely aware how clueless you were when it came to romance.

you follow her lead, doing your best to follow her lead. her free hand finding your waist, squeezing gently. you pull away, panting faintly. "i don't know.." you mumble, trailing off as ellie puts her lips back to yours. the hand that was on your jaw roaming to the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair. "i know." ellie responds moments later, her lips brushing against your with each syllable. you couldn't comprehend what was happening, your mind going blank with ellie's lips on yours. she adored the way you looked at her. looking at her like you needed her.

she gently lays you back, grabbing the first pillow she could find and settling it under your head so you were comfortable. her thighs either side of your body, her body weight on top of you, giving you a cozy feeling you'd never experienced before. "you don't even know how long i've been wantin' to kiss your pretty lips..." she whispers, her bangs hanging in front of her face. you bring your hand up to her face, nervously tucking the hair behind her ear. "god, you're so fuckin'..." she stops, just taking a second to admire how alluring you looked under her.

her lips dip down to your neck, slowly biting and sucking on the skin. your breath hitches, a small whine pushing past your swollen lips. ellie groans against the skin of your neck. "make more of those pretty noises f'r me." she mumbles, hips rolling over yours, another whine spilling from you at the pleasurable feeling. ellie's kisses move away from your neck, down your body. trailing down your collarbone to your clothed chest to your stomach. her lips stop, hovering right above your pussy.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you back arching a little in anticipation. "how bad do you wan' it? tell me, baby. tell me how much you wan' me." she was totally and utterly obsessed with you, her mind becoming drunk by the thought of you— the mere sight of you. "p-please, els..." you mumbled, voice timid from embarrassment. it was partially expected though, you'd never done anything like this. "i want you..." it was simple but effective, making ellie go feral for you. "fuck—"

she lowers her lips to your pussy, kissing over the fabric of your shorts. watching her through hooded eyes, your pussy throbbing from her touch. "gonna eat this pussy s'good. show you what you've been missin' out on." she groans, the fabric of your shorts dampening as she trails her tongue over the sensitive area. ellie surprised herself, shocked that she was able to dirty talk to you so easily like this. your hips were writhing against the bed, more eager than you've ever been in your entire life. you felt dirty for wanting this, knowing that god was watching you become a total slut for ellie.

ellie's fingers hooked on your shorts, pulling them down slow as slow could be, chuckling as you whined. "ellie. ellie, please." you muttered, begging for her to hurry up. ellie's eyes rolled back, the sound of you begging getting her more aroused than she's ever been. no one's ever made her feel like this before. she was done with the teasing, if not for your sake but for hers. she pulled your shorts and underwear off swiftly, discarding them somewhere to find later.

her eyes locked on your bare pussy, fighting back a moan at the sight. "you've got me so fucked up, babe." she muttered, kissing around your thighs first. you were nervous, breath shallow and quick paced, hungry for ellie but embarrassed nevertheless. your voice was caught in your throat, blinking quickly as you watched ellie kiss all over your thighs. ellie looked up at you and you were able to see that she was just as nervous as you. "is this okay? you can tell me to stop." she sounded sincere, pushing aside her pure need to get your consent.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. "use your words like the good girl you are, yeah?" she's longing to just taste your glistening cunt. "yes— yes, els. 't's okay..." she doesn't waste another second after hearing your shaky voice, tongue urgently dipping between your wet folds. you moan at the contact, feeling like you were on cloud 9. ellie's tongue presses flat against your clit, your hand clamping over your mouth. moans being muffled as ellie savors the sweet noises your dripping cunt was making.

ellie wasn't fond of you muffling your perfect little sounds, wanting to hear just how good she could make you feel. "let me hear you. don't make me punish you.." you don't move your hand away from your sinful mouth. your free hand finds ellie's, interlocking your fingers which she gladly accepts. "c'mon, baby. let me hear you." she encourages once more, lips moving against you with ease, mixture of your wetness and her spit. but to her dismay, you still ignored her commands. her free hand sliding your shirt up your body to expose your breasts, you were never one to wear a bra. her hand kneading the supple flesh, thumb running over your nipple.

she licks a strip from your entrance to your clit, making your thighs shake with immense pleasure. "wanna be a brat?" she mumbles into your pussy, looking up at you through her eyelashes, staring you down as her tongue circles your clit. "what is it they make you do in confession? hail mary's? 5 of 'em, now. or i stop." she smirks, watching the look in your eye become more flustered by her request. you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, not wanting this pleasure to ever stop.

"h-hail mary, full of grace—" you cut yourself off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut as you lift your hips, pushing your cunt further into ellie's face. "get to ruin this pretty pussy." ellie groans. "keep goin'. don't stop." she aids you to continue, feeling your cunt flutter around her tongue. "the lord is with— is with thee..." you continue, stuttering through the words. "good girl, keep goin' f'r me. let me hear you." she continues to egg you on, talking into your pussy. her own moans mixing in with the sound of yours.

"blessed art thou— ellie, please..." you whine, squeezing her hand and throwing your head back into the pillow, back arching off the bed. "c'mon, pretty girl. blessed art thou..." you toes curl at her words and the feeling of her tongue teasing your entrance. "—amongst... amongst women..." you trail off, mind becoming to hazy to even remember the words to the prayer you've prayed everyday since you could talk. ellie smirked into your cunt, relishing in the feeling of being able to turn your mind into mush, being the only one able to turn your mind into mush.

your moans and whines became breathier and higher pitched with each flick of her tongue. your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar knot. "ah, ah, ellie—" your thighs trying to clench together and push her head away, the feeling becoming too much. "you're gonna cum, baby?" she spreads your legs wider, her only greedy want is to make pleasure wash over you. "ellie! ellie! ellie!" you chant her name, eyes rolling back as the pleasurable wave of your orgasm finally hits you, moans loud and unfiltered.

"there we go... yeah, nice an' easy. fuck." she mutters, tongue fucking you through your high until your writhing and pushing her off of you. her lips relocating to your thighs and slowly working their way up to your pelvic bone, soft kisses against your skin. "tasted so good, baby. best pussy i've ever had." she praises, eager to show you just how much you pleasured her even though you technically didn't make her cum. "els..." you whined, face flushed a rosy red. "yeah, baby. 'm right here." she leaves a trail of kisses up your body as she reaches your lips, leaving a soft peck to let you know she was here. "does this mean you like me too...?" you asked innocently. "are you serious?"

another christian!reader x ellie williams fic!

[thehaemanthus]

of two hearts one heart make we

It is the right of Rhysand, consort to the New Queen Amarantha, to take all Omegas in the land as his. Feyre, even at the altar, cannot escape this fate. Nor, it seems, can her sisters. Part 1 of 2. Feysand, with Rhysand/Nesta and Rhysand/Elain. Dubious consent, A/B/O, voyeurism, AU. Dead dove I don't wanna see none of y'all making noise about "eww, Rhys and Nesta"

yeah yeah yeah, the week is over, I'm agonizing over this and it's not done. But here's a part one for @acotar-omegaverse-week

I'm too scared to post this on AO3 that's how you know this is insane and the premise is weak. But, unfortunately, I wrote it and I think it's hot

Title from "The Heart that Loveth Me", which I'm not even sure is a real poem because the only place I can find it is a blog?

It was quite a leap to go from orphan girl on the fringe of society to Lady of the land, and if all went well today Feyre would be successful in taking that step. 

Already, the days had seemed like a dream. From the moment the Lord spied her washing off in a stream— a faerie come to tempt him— to the quick proposal of marriage to her wedding day. But Lord Tamlin knew what he wanted, and who was she to question him? He got a wife, she received a belly full of food, a warm bed for her and her sisters, and a decent man. Feyre was uncommonly lucky. 

Handmaidens brushed her hair and dabbed scented oil on her skin. Nesta and Elain watched, sitting at the other end of the room. The dark wood and gray stone showed its age, and the room smelled smoky from the centuries of fires made in its great hearth. The crackle of the fire and the scrape of the brush through Feyre’s hair were the only sounds in the room. Elsewhere, the chapel attached to the palace was filling with noble guests. 

“What if he shows up?” The words spilled from Feyre’s mouth. Her eyes met Nesta’s in the looking glass.

“He won’t,” a matronly woman said. She was here to supervise the handmaidens. “This is a joyous day, child.” 

Nesta wasn’t as convinced. “How many guards in this palace?” 

“Many,” the matron nearly snaps Nesta’s nose off. “Four shall be assigned to the bride. Two each for you and your sister.” 

If he did show up, that might not be enough. No one states the obvious. 

It’s not long before she stands at the door to the room, wary of sitting should something be knocked askew. Feyre has never seen anyone wear this much cream and gold. How many bellies could be fed with the silver it took to pay for such a gown that glows in the sunlight? The wildflowers in her hair, in contrast, were plucked by her own sisters in the fields outside the wall.

Outside. Feyre is glad to be marrying Tamlin, for she will no longer have to go outside to hunt and scavenge. She will no longer be allowed to romp through the mud and bathe in streams. Really, she would be surprised if she were allowed to leave the confines of the palace. 

“This is a bad idea.”

“Nesta!” It’s only the three sisters and a chambermaid in the room, but Elain still glances around like the groom himself will step out of the shadows. 

Their oldest sister crosses her arms. “You don’t know for sure that he will continue to let you take the necessary precautions. You place too much trust in a man you don’t know well enough. Worse, you endanger our lives.”

Elain shakes her head. “Feyre is saving our lives—”

“If we stay in this household,” Nesta barrels forward. “Even if we are given a holding of our own, there will be servants. It is too hard to keep this quiet when you are never alone, Feyre!”

“Why should you keep it quiet?” She fiddles with the posy in her hands. “Do you not think my husband can protect all of us?”

Nesta sneers. “No, I do not, and neither do you!”

Feyre does not get a chance to respond. A knock followed by the door swinging open signals the end of their time together. A page boy nods shallowly. “Please follow me.”

There is no one to walk Feyre down the aisle. Once, she had a wealthy father and a mother that was so desired, her dowry included enough silver and jewels to make a queen envious. Feyre and her sisters were the prettiest pieces in their mother’s collection, until of course the wealth was squandered. Then, all they became were potential victims. But Feyre didn’t get her sisters this far to give up now. Marriage to Tamlin, who knows her nature, is safe. This is the station she had always been meant for. 

It doesn't mean she had to like it. 

The chapel is filled with incense and unfamiliar faces. Tapestries dangle on the stone walls, giving some life to the dim room. Outside is Feyre’s old life, all muddy streets and thatched roofs and backbreaking work and secrets. Here, here is her future as a wealthy, kept woman. 

Feyre makes it to the end of the aisle, smiling shyly at Tamlin. She barely knows this lord, but he’s been kind and respectful. A life with him will be blessed. Her sisters followed her down the aisle, but now shift to the side. The priest smiles. His silly hat looks sillier because he acts so serious. 

“Honored guests, thank you for joining us for this most auspicious union—”

The sound of boots on stone echoes through the chapel. Feyre turns, and her stomach sinks. The figure that emerges from the shadows is tall and broad, a dark spot in the light chapel with garlands of white flowers. 

“I have an objection.” She’s never seen this man before in her life, but there’s only one person he could be. “That, right there, is an Omega female. The laws of this land state all Omegas are to be presented before me. Why wasn’t she?” 

“Leave,” Tamlin snarls. “You cannot steal my bride—“

“I could steal her if she was wed, bed, and with child.” The man stalks down the aisle. “I am the lord of these lands.”

Tamlin releases of her hands and rests his hand on the pommel of his sword. “No, I am—“

“You are a vassal,” the man says, stopping in front of them. He is dressed in black. His boots are nearly spotless, impressive considering he would have had to ride to get here. The great black cloak over his tunic and leather jerkin adds to his already imposing size. “Your father lost these lands, and you sit here in your decaying splendor because I allow it.” 

Feyre freezes as those violet eyes turn to her. The world is crashing down around her, but there is only silence beyond the roaring in her ears. 

“Your name, lady,” he mocks her. It is not an Alpha order, not yet. But there is enough iron in his words to make her confidence quake. 

Her mouth is dry, and her voice is soft when she says, “I don’t belong to you.”

“Not yet,” he smiles, but it’s not a kind one. “But every Omega in the lands I control has the potential to.” He circles her, and Feyre tries to follow him with her gaze. Then he reaches out, one arm wrapped around her waist as his hand grips her jaw. His chest pressed against her back, and he must be hunched over because she feels smothered. 

Feyre shudders as he breathes her in. “She smells delicious Tamlin, here take a sniff— ah, I forgot. You can’t.” 

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. Maybe it all has been a dream so far, because this surely cannot be real. She would not believe it was real, save for the iron grip, the hard body pressed against hers, and the unmistakable smell of an Alpha. Something in her begins to scream and sigh. 

Her eyes snap open as he hauls her backward. “I might have been lenient if you informed me and notified me of your intentions to wed the Omega. Especially because she has sisters.”

From nowhere, other men dressed in black flood the chapel. Guests, previously frozen, panic and scramble like ants in a disturbed anthill. 

Feyre’s knees nearly give out as two men zero in on her sisters. Nesta begins to fight, which reminds her that she should, too. Clearly, her captor didn’t expect it. She wretches one arm free, and in the commotion finds another hand. 

The startling red hair and distinctive eyepatch identifies Tamlin’s seneschal, Lucien. He yanks, but it’s not enough. She feels like a toy between the two men, crying out in pain until she’s twisted, a hand in her hair forcing her to look at Tamlin. His face is pale, fury making his tense jaw twitch. The crown of flowers lies on the ground, trampled. 

“Fight me if you want, Tamlin.” This monster doesn’t even sound winded. Feyre wilts. “You know the consequences.”

Somehow, Lucien keeps a grip on her wrist. It tightens. If they coordinate, they can work together to get her away—

“Go,” Tamlin’s lip curls. “I cannot stop you from being a monster. So be it.”

Lucien snarls. “Tamlin, you cannot—”

“Let her go, Lucien.” Feyre’s husband-to-be turns his back. “One woman, or a war we cannot win. Were I not a leader burdened with these decisions…”

The man behind her snorts quietly, but Feyre hears it. It shocks her from her surprise. “Tamlin?” Surely he cannot mean that. He was going to marry her. His flowery words— she can’t remember all of them, but did they not amount to some type of love? 

“Expect to see one of my representatives soon,” the man behind her says. “You broke the law, Tamlin.”

Feyre does not see anything but the back of her beloved. Even as they leave the room, even as she is carried from the palace, his hunched shoulders are imprinted in her mind. The sight is stronger when they place a blindfold over her eyes. 

Elain sniffles somewhere next to her. Nesta is quiet, and Feyre is glad. Her eldest sister has the right to say “I told you so”. 

With a marriage to a local lord, Feyre was supposed to secure safety and security for her and her Omega sisters. But the opposite, it seems, has happened. For everyone knows that to be an Omega captured by Rhysand, consort of the New Queen Amarantha, is to be lost forever. 

—

The day Feyre showed the first signs of presenting was the happiest of her life. 

She was young, only nine, but a nursemaid caught a scent of something. A physician was quickly called, and the diagnosis was confirmed. Feyre Archeron was the third Omega daughter born to her Alpha parents, nearly unheard of. 

Her mother brought Feyre and her sisters to her chambers. She sat, gazing at her daughters with what Feyre thought was pride. It was simple avarice. But when she was nine and had missed the affection of a mother for so long, any look sent her way was treasured. 

“My girls,” her mother had cooed. “We shall find rich, powerful husbands for you. Only Alphas. You will be the wives of kings and princes, mark my words.” 

For a woman who, due to common blood, failed to rise higher than a wealthy merchant, blue blood for her daughters would be the fulfillment of her own dream. Feyre followed the instructions of her mother and the example of her sisters. Dread wound its way around her like ivy, growing to constrict Feyre more with each passing year. 

It fell apart rather quickly. Mother died. Father, lost in his grief, lost their money in the tumult of the New Queen’s conquest. Father died. They had no money, just a maid who left them with some final parting advice. 

Being a penniless Omega is not a blessing in this world. A whorehouse, a vessel to be used by Alpha soldiers with an itch to scratch. Or a slave in some distant household. The possibilities run through Feyre’s mind as she stands, shivering with fear. They sat in the cart long enough for the chill of night to fall and for her ass to fall asleep. 

She thought they might be inside a tent. It was marginally warmer, and there was no breeze. Steps near her make her flinch a moment before the blindfold rips away. She squints, seeing her sisters on either side of her.

“Lord Tamlin broke the laws of this land when he failed to report three Omegas living in his territory.” Through her lashes and the pieces of hair falling in her face, Feyre sees Rhysand. He is the consort of the New Queen, but no one has ever called him king or prince. He is simply Rhysand, the sword that the New Queen wields. Feyre does not know where he came from, only that he is known for his violence, his dominance as an Alpha, and for rounding up Omegas. 

He studies them now, satisfaction poorly concealed on his face. Hate rises in Feyre’s belly. Hate is easier than fear.

“I am impressed you managed to hide for this long.” His gaze roves over all of them. Feyre fights the urge to squirm. Already, the large tent fills with his scent. Alpha. Protector. Powerful. Dangerous, her mind tries to say. Perfect, her nose tells her. 

One moment she is lost in the haze, and in the next a sharp point of a knife digs into her throat. Feyre struggles for only a second before freezing.

Nesta’s bound hands grip the knife. Her arms wrap around Feyre from the back, but it’s the point of the knife against her skin that keeps Feyre still.

“You will not have us.” Her sister’s voice shakes with rage, and maybe fear. 

Her sister. Nesta has a knife— hid it away somehow? Now she is poised to kill Feyre. Across the small space, Rhysand is on his feet, eyes narrowed.

“Nesta?” Elain whimpers.

“I won’t allow you to touch my sisters,” Nesta says, voice rough with fury. The knife digs a little deeper. 

Feyre’s breathing picks up. Nesta will kill her. Nesta is going to hurt her—

Rhysand’s powerful voice does not increase in volume, but Feyre feels her mind drawn to him anyway. “Put the knife down.” Something has changed in his tone. It is an order.

Nesta falters a bit before recovering.

“What do you think will happen?” Rhysand prowls forward, honey in his voice. The blast of his Alpha’s power floods the small space. “You will try to kill your sister. I will strike as you do, removing the weapon from your hands. Then you are weaponless. As the youngest of you lies bleeding, I will call for my healers. Do you know how to kill, little warrior? Have you slaughtered the sheep for feasts or broken the neck of birds? Stand down, Omega.” 

Nesta inhales sharply. Feyre can feel the tremor run through her. The tip of the knife scrapes Feyre’s neck. Her sister screeches, and then Nesta is gone.

The relief and shock brings Feyre to her knees. She inhales as if she’d been strangled. Behind her, Nesta shouts abuses. Feyre glances over her shoulder, where two large men restrain her oldest sister and wrestle the knife away. 

“It was a noble attempt,” Rhysand says, turning his back and sitting down. “Now, let me tell you what is about to happen.”

Elain shuffles towards Feyre. The silence as her sister helps her to her feet feels like mockery. When they are all standing, and in Nesta’s case restrained, Rhysand speaks. “We ride for the nearest monastery, where you will be kept with other Omegas in my care. You will not complain, you will not try to run. Am I clear?”

What else is there to do but glare? Even Elain does not speak or nod. 

Rhysand continues, unfazed. “You are my Omegas now. I will take certain steps to maintain your wellbeing, which means I need information. When were your last heats?”

A blush blooms on Feyre’s skin, so deep she must be radiating warmth. Elain makes a small noise, looking down at her feet. These are not things one talks about, certainly not with a male stranger. The silence stretches. 

“Answer me.” The honey is back in Rhysand’s voice, laced with iron. “How long ago was your last heat? Is one approaching?”

Feyre wishes she had an answer for him. Embarrassment starts to be eclipsed by fear. The words wait on her tongue. If she opens her mouth and tells him, this Alpha will approve of her. She should want his approval. 

“How did you conceal yourselves?” A new voice says, one of the men holding Nesta. His voice is smokey, and his eyes are narrowed. Their silence gives him room to speak. “Was it Widow’s Milkweed?”

Something gives them away. Maybe it’s the way Elain’s eyes turn especially doe-ish when she lies, maybe it’s the slight twitch from Feyre, maybe it’s the way Nesta puffs up at any criticism— but now they know.

The other man holding Nesta hisses. “Fuck.”

“Indeed.” The honey is gone from Rhysand’s voice. “When was your last dose?”

Again, they are silent. They do not have that luxury for long. Faster than Feyre can process, Rhysand hauls her close with one hand fisted in the neckline of her gown. Elain cries out, clawing at Feyre with bound hands. 

Up close, his violet eyes are mesmerizing and terrifying. “Your sister was ready to kill you to spare you the fate of becoming an Omega plaything. Do not spit on that attempt. If you value yourself at all, tell me when you took the last dose of Widow’s Milkweed.”

The words spill from her mouth. “Four days ago.” Feyre’s voice does not shake, but it is soft. Four days ago, she was supposed to have taken the last sip of tea that would subdue her heats. Tamlin wasn’t an Alpha, but Betas could see Omegas through heats, too. That’s what he told her. 

Rhysand releases her, stalking away. He is a dangerous predator, pacing in the enclosed space. “And you two?”

Elain and Nesta exchange looks, but it’s Elain who speaks. “Tamlin moved us into his household at the same time as Feyre. He didn’t want us taking Widow’s Milkweed. We had planned to take a dose right after the wedding—”

Rhysand slashes his hand through the air, silencing Elain. 

“Rhys—”

“I know, Azriel.” The expression on his face chills Feyre like nothing else has. Rhysand is in charge here. He is the monster. An Alpha in control should never look this unsteady.

“Widow’s Milkweed is incredibly dangerous,” he says. “By tomorrow…maybe sooner, your scents will change and you’ll be shedding pheromones like leaves in autumn. All of my Alpha soldiers will converge on you like a pack of dogs. There is no telling when your heats will develop.” 

“You said there was a monastery.” Monasteries were populated exclusively by Betas and the Omegas they sheltered. They were centers of healing, spirituality, and knowledge. Isolated and hard to reach, they were purposefully built to keep Alphas at bay. 

But Rhysand dashes Feyre’s hopes. “The closest is a week’s ride.”

“Our holding is closer.” The larger man who holds Nesta suggests. 

“Still too far,” Rhysand says. The silence in the tent gives Feyre nothing to do but think. Maybe he’ll decide the effort is not worth it and throw them to his men. A shiver goes through her. 

Finally, he speaks. “You will allow me to scent mark all of you.”

The other men in the room seem shocked, but Rhysand speaks before they can. “You will remain maids, but I cannot claim your virtue will be intact. It will happen here, tonight. One least one of my men will be present to oversee the proceedings and ensure things don’t…get out of hand.”

“What—” Elain’s voice cracks. “What does scent marking mean?”

The men exchange a look. The one with a smokey voice, Azriel, shakes his head. “Save us from mothers and their misguided attempts to shelter their daughters.”

“Do you know what happens between an Alpha and Omega in the mating bed?” Rhysand asks. 

Feyre blushes. She is familiar with how farmyard animals act, but not people. Her knowledge amounts to something like she would feel strange, desire her alpha’s touch, and that her alpha would guide her through these desires. At the end of a few days, she would come out of her heat. In three season’s time, if she was lucky, there would be a baby. 

To her surprise, it’s Nesta who answers. “The alpha repeatedly gives the omega their seed, which results in a child.” 

The embarrassed silence reigns before the larger man clears his throat. “Well, that’s not wrong.” 

“The mixture of seed and slick produces its own powerful note in your usual scent, subtle but detectable,” Rhysand explains. “It’s not the same as the scent of a mated couple, but it does send a signal.”

The man leans forward. “You want to claim all three of them as yours?”

“Don’t,” Rhysand snaps. “They must all be mine, Cassian. If I hand the Omegas out like gifts, there will be fighting. We cannot afford discord.”

“It does add to his reputation,” Azriel says. “It’s not a bad idea, strategically.”

“We are not objects to be dealt with!” Nesta snaps. “You cannot claim all of us, the natural order of things will not allow it—”

“I make no claim,” Rhysand says. 

“How?” Feyre finds her voice. “I still don't understand. We have…slick, and you have seed. How do you combine these?” 

“He wants to lay with us,” Nesta spats.

Elain blanches. “You said we will be maids.”

Something about this must be amusing, because the men trade looks. That, of all things, finally makes Feyre snap. “No. We’ll…we can hide away somewhere.”

“On these plains, at this time of year, with these winds?” Rhysand jerks his head outside. “An Alpha will catch a scent within hours. This is not a debate.” His voice changes, and the words become commands. “You will bathe, change, and allow me to scent mark you. You will not fight and you will not argue.”

Inside, Feyre screeches. On the outside, she is silent. Her body relaxes, given directions by an Alpha. 

Definite chance of survival at the expense of laying with a monster, or hiding and hoping they are not found and raped or captured by someone else? 

If Rhysand had given them the choice, Feyre cannot say what she would have done. 

A bell should toll or a fierce wind should blow through the plains, a supernatural signal that a fate has been sealed. But it is quiet and still, the crackling of the one brazier in the tent undisturbed. 

Things move quickly after that. Rhysand’s men, Azriel and Cassian, hustle them to another larger tent. They do not speak, not to give orders or to taunt. Their tense faces and the looks they exchange do enough to silence the sisters. Feyre glances at the low bed covered in furs and the rugs on the floor, the flagon of wine and too many lit candles to waste all at once, before she dips behind a changing screen. They bathe with a pot of hot water and a cake of soap. 

“Change into these,” a gruff voice says from the other side of the screen. A moment later, a bundle of cream fabric flips over the top of the changing screen. As soon as Feyre takes one of the shirts, she knows they belong to Rhysand. The heady scent of Alpha drips from them, along with a clean scent of soap. 

For as long as Feyre has been a mature Omega, she has taken Widow’s Milkweed to suppress heats and keep her Omega scent dormant. That didn’t mean she was immune to Alphas. Their commands and their scent, their presence made her want to lay on her back or stick her nose into their necks to take in more. Sometimes the scent told her this was an Alpha that would wrap her in their arms, sometimes the scent told her to open her legs. Rhysand’s scent did everything, said everything that made her Omega soul sing. 

Was this why everyone said Rhysand was the most powerful Alpha in the land? That couldn’t be— Amarantha, the New Queen, was the real power. 

Feyre’s hands shook as she tugged the shirt on. It hung to her knees, and the neck was so large it nearly fell off of her shoulders. Beside her, Nesta and Elain did the same. Nesta’s movements were furious, while Elain’s were careful and purposeful. They were scared. They were all scared and showing it in different ways. But they could not disobey an order.

Nesta took her hand, the other gripping Elain, and dragged them out. “I will go first,” her sister declared. She pushed them to the low cushions and rug. “Sit.”

“Pushy, for an Omega,” Rhysand commented. Feyre jumped. How could she have forgotten he was there, playing with a glass of wine as he sat at the table with his men. 

Nesta does not respond, merely walks to the bed and sits on the edge. 

“Lay on your side,” Rhysand says. He begins to disrobe, and Feyre glances down to her hands. The sound of fabric shifting and dropping seems especially loud.

Nesta, stiff as a plank, lays on her side facing her sisters. Feyre is grateful she does not try to meet their gaze. She does not know if she would be able to keep it. Instead, Nesta stares somewhere above their heads.

Rhysand, clad only in a shirt, lays behind her. Nesta quivers, and Feyre has to look away again.

She cannot stop her ears from hearing, though. 

“The more you relax, the quicker this will be,” Rhysand says. Then it is quiet, save for the crackle of fire, the sound of breathing, and the rasp of skin on fabric. 

It might be a minute later than Nesta gasps. Feyre’s eyes widen, but she keeps them pinned down. Another moment, and a strange noise leaves her sister’s mouth. Feyre’s eyes look without her mind ordering them too. 

One of Rhysand’s arms curls beneath Nesta’s neck so that his hand can caress her breast under the shirt. The other hand traces slow circles low on Nesta’s stomach. Her sister has color high in her cheeks, eyes so wide they seem a little shocked. Her lip is caught between her teeth, though small sounds still escape. She grips the bedding under her like it is her salvation. 

Feyre watches the hand on her sister’s breast as the shirt slips. She’s seen her sisters nude— they are sisters and they have been poor more than they have been wealthy which amounts to little privacy. But not like this, as a man enjoys in her flesh. Rhysand’s fingers, dark against Nesta’s milk-white skin, pinch a pink nipple and Nesta jerks. 

“Shh, Omega,” Rhysand’s honey voice is back. A yawning ache opens in Feyre. “Relax.”

The hand on her stomach dips lower, under the hem of the shirt and then back up. Nesta makes a shocked sound, squirming. The hand on her breast turns restraining, and then Rhysand groans. 

A flood of heat washes through Feyre. She should look away again, but she cannot. 

“Hush,” Rhysand murmurs again. “Lift your leg, put it over mine— there. Good.” 

Feyre lists forward, yearning for his praise. Then she snaps out of it, taking a deep breath and looking away for a moment. She should not be feeling…any of this. But her eyes draw back to the scene in front of her anyway. 

The shirt blocks the view of what’s happening, but Feyre can tell Rhysand’s hand is moving between Nesta’s legs. Her sister starts to breathe rapidly, little strange gasps and mewls escaping her lips. Her eyes are still open and shocked, staring at the wall of the tent like she cannot believe what is happening to her. 

Feyre jumps when Nesta cries out, harsh and loud. Her body arches, toes curling. 

“That’s it.” Strain coats Rhysand’s voice. 

Nesta turns her face into the bedding, but she can’t muffle the little cries. Feyre shifts in her seat, eyes wide and breathing shallow. Is that what it is like to lie with a man? 

She thinks it is done, but is not prepared for Rhysand’s movements. The hand under Nesta’s shirt extricates itself. He fumbles with something between them before gripping the thigh Nesta has thrown over his own leg. Then he starts to move. 

The sound of something wet had been in the tent before, but now it is louder. Everything seems louder and harsher, from the pitiful cries of her sister to the grunting from Rhysand to the wet slap of skin. Feyre can see where Rhysand’s fingers dig into Nesta���s skin. Over Nesta’s shoulder, his eyes are closed and his brow is furrowed as if in pain. 

Then those violet eyes snap open. They lock on Feyre, and she can’t look away. She can’t look away as the man ruts into her sister like an animal. Her freedom comes when he bows his head forward. He jerks violently a handful of times before stilling. 

The quiet is awkward. Feyre’s breathing is too loud. She only becomes more uncomfortable when Rhysand dips his hand back between Nesta’s legs. It works there for a moment, drawing a hiss from Nesta, before roaming all over her body. 

The slick and the seed. That must be what it is, and now he spreads the scent on Nesta’s glands. Feyre shudders and is finally able to look away. Her hands shake a bit in her lap, and there’s a yawning feeling in her gut. Why does she want to cry?

“Stay here for a while,” Rhysand’s voice breaks the silence. “It takes a moment to come down.”

The words are not meant for her, but the reassuring Alpha brings Feyre back to equilibrium. This is a strong Alpha, and she shouldn’t feel so distressed in his presence. Even if he is ignoring her— 

“I am next,” Elain declares. The flash of anger and panic is enough to silence Feyre, though she doesn’t know what she would say if she could. Elain just squeezes Feyre’s hand and stands. She is numb as she watches her sisters switch places, as Nesta stumbles behind the changing screen with instructions to clean up a bit but not wipe away the evidence of what just happened. The scent needs to set in. 

Elain asks to face away from her sisters. Rhysand obliges. He too disappears behind the changing screen before laying behind Elain. Again, Feyre tries to look away. Again, she is unable to. Though covered by a long shirt, she is mesmerized by the play of the muscles in his back. Rhysand treats Elain the same he did with Nesta, slow caresses graduating to his hand between her legs. Elain’s slender leg trembles where it’s thrown over Rhysand, the only visible part of her sister. The rest is concealed by Rhysand’s bulk. From this view, Feyre can see how his body flexes. She stares at the way Elain’s bare leg rubs against Rhysand’s and wonders what it would be like, how the hairs on his legs would tickle her and how it would feel to touch that much coiled power. 

Then Elain crests with loud moans. Again, Rhysand grips her and starts moving. His shirt rides up, giving Feyre a few of his backside and something between his legs. His grunts are louder this time as he drives into Elain, as are Elain’s own whimpers. Soon, Rhysand slams his hips violently into Elain before stilling. Again, Feyre watches as he touches one of her sisters as she mewls. 

No one says anything for a while. Where Nesta was eager to stand as soon as she could, Elain seems frozen in place. 

“Azriel,” Rhysand says. His rough voice scrapes Feyre. “Help her up.”

There is no hesitation in Azriel’s movement as he assists Elain in standing and guides her to the changing screen, touching her no more than he has to. 

On the bed, Rhys rolls onto his back and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I might need a minute.”

That’s fine. Feyre isn’t sure she could stand if she wanted to, right now. After a minute of rustling fabric and the splash of water, Elain emerges. Head down, she scuttles to Feyre and Nesta and plants herself next to them. Elain settles, quickly squeezing Feyre’s shoulder before turning her face into Nesta’s shoulder.

Rhys rises from the bed and disappears behind the changing screen. 

“We did it, you can too.” Nesta prods her into movement. Slowly, Feyre stands and walks to the edge of the bed. There are wet spots staining the bedding, and the mixture of smells makes her stomach churn. There’s the familiarity of her sisters. It’s their scent, but somehow different. Those scents are mixed with the heady scent of her Alpha—

No. Of Rhysand. He might be an Alpha, but she would not give him that much power over her. 

“Are you ready?”

While she was staring at the bedding, Rhysand came to her side. She nearly jumps. Did he somehow get taller? She thought that, stripped of layers of clothing, he might seem a bit smaller and less intimidating. But he still looks like he could snap her in half. 

Feyre swallows roughly. “I want to be facing you.” She cannot say why she needs to, only that she does. Her sisters faced away, as if anyone could have been laying behind them. Feyre wants to face Rhysand and know. 

He studies her for a moment. “As you wish.” Then he whips the thick blanket off the top of the bed, tossing it carelessly on the floor. That’s all the invitation she’ll get. 

When Feyre climbs into the bed, it smells only of cleanliness and a bit of Rhysand. When he crawls in next to her, the scent increases. A fire ignites in Feyre’s belly. She is surprised the entire bed is not shaking, because she has never felt so unsteady as she clumsily rolls onto her side. 

“Hush,” Rhysand says. “Deep breath.” 

There is no question of following his orders. Here is her Alpha, the one to lead her through these strange feelings and soothe her discomfort. His face is all she can see, his scent all she smells. His hand swallows her thigh as he brings it over his hip. Feyre breaths so rapidly she feels lightheaded.

The hand on her thigh trails up. Ferye shivers as he grazes the skin of her inner thigh. And then he touches her. Pleasure shoots through her, something in her core squeezes and aches. Her hand shoots out to clutch at Rhysand’s shoulder. She needs to rip the shirt away and feel skin.

Rhysand’s hand freezes. They stare at each other, both a little shocked. Feyre should not be touching him like this. But why not? 

Rhysand hauls her closer, so close they breathe into each other’s mouths. The calluses of his hand rasp against her thigh as he drags his fingers back down her thigh, then up again, caressing her before trailing up, up, between her legs. Feyre shudders and gasps. Through half-lidded eyes, she sees Rhysand lean in, eyes locked on her mouth.

One thick finger traces the seam between her legs, sensitive and nearly ticklish. Her eyes threaten to close, overwhelmed by every sensation. But Rhysand’s penetrating violet gaze holds her. She is his prisoner. 

Feyre should be more upset about that, but she is not. She is an Omega in an Alpha’s bed, and there is nothing more right. 

Rhysand’s hand applies more pressure, dipping into her wet heat. Feyre digs her nails into his shoulder, bucking a bit.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, nose brushing hers. “Relax, Omega.”

Then his fingers move, and oh. Feyre would squirm out of his grasp if not for the grip he keeps on her. She does not feel embarrassed by the sounds his fingers make in her slick, nor the way she bucks, nor the audience. She is not aware of anything more than the pleasure her Alpha gives her, the way he smells, the sweet encouragement he offers her. His words fall from his mouth into hers. 

“You were made for this.” His voice is strained. “Made for an Alpha—”

“Yes,” Feyre moans. How can she disagree?

The fingers circling the sensitive spot between her thighs pick up their speed. Unintelligible noises leave Feyre’s lips. She needs— she needs something more. The gland on her neck itches, and unthinkingly she contorts to present her neck. 

She wants the bite there, but Rhysand growls and nips her jaw instead. Feyre cries in dismay, cut off by his lips covering hers. 

If his scent was delicious, the taste of this man is even better. Pleasure bursts in Feyre, but her cry is muffled by Rhysand’s mouth. She squirms, overwhelmed and satisfied but still needing more. She is so empty. He pets her a bit more before his hand is gone, followed by his mouth. 

“No,” she whines.

“Quiet,” Rhysand snaps. He’s looking down, fumbling with his shirt. Sweat gleams on his furrowed brow. Feyre only sees a glimpse of his manhood before he tugs her close. Something hot and thick slips between her legs, easily sliding in the slick that trails down Feyre’s thighs. A surprised gasp leaves her lips. 

Rhysand bares his teeth, holding her close with one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other hand digging into her ass. Somehow, she ends up with her face pressed into his neck. Then he moves. Hot skin slides against hers. Rhysand’s thick manhood rubs the sensitive flesh between her legs. His hand was pleasurable, but this is sinful. 

Feyre tightens her leg around Rhysand. She needs to be closer. She needs this Alpha to soothe the fire in her, pin her down, fill her with seed and children—

She wants to be his, and make sure the world knows she is kept by him. He does not have a mating gland like she does, but that does not stop her from biting the tendon on his neck. 

Rhysand growls and the world spins. Feyre finds herself on her back, smothered by a man who might weigh as much as two of her. She can barely breath, and when she can all she smells is slick and seed, Rhysand and Feyre. 

Heavy hips slam into hers as Rhysand continues to drive himself through Feyre. She hiccups between cries, face wet with overwhelmed tears. This is not enough. He surrounds her, but he needs to be in her and cure her of the loss Feyre never knew she carried inside. 

Then he rears up. Feyre whimpers at the loss of connection, the sudden cold that intrudes in all the heat. Rhysand looks between her legs, using one hand to wrench her leg up and open. Feyre’s shirt has ridden up to under her breasts, displaying her to his gaze. She watches, mesmerized, as Rhysand takes himself in hand and pumps, gaze locked between Feyre’s legs. His manhood is dark, lined with veins until it bulges at the base, his knot. 

He grunts, continuing to stroke himself as his manhood spits something white— his seed— onto Feyre. She jerks in surprise, only able to watch as the seed splatters the place in between her legs and her lower stomach. 

Her breathing sounds too loud in her ears. She wants to reach out and pull Rhysand back down, let him smother her. This Alpha marked her, but did not claim her. It’s not right. She must have done something incorrectly—

“Good girl,” Rhysand rasps. The hand that was holding her leg open relaxes its grip, stroking. It soothes the anxious part of Feyre. “You did well, Omega.” 

She nods, hissing as Rhysand dips his fingers back between her legs. She bucks as he rubs, mixing slick and seed. Those fingers should dip inside her, that seed belongs in her womb—

“Almost done,” he murmurs, reaching up to paint the mixture on her mating gland. “You’ve been a good girl, just stay still for a little longer.”

It is not an order, but Feyre melts into the bed anyway. She would do anything for his approval. 

Too soon, he tugs her shirt back down over her thighs and stands from the bed. The world comes rushing back in. 

“Rhysand,” Cassian says, an Alpha rumble under lacing his unhappy tone. Fear rockets through Feyre. It is dangerous to be surrounded by unhappy Alphas. 

Rhysand raises a hand. “Later. Get them seen to first.”

“He’s right,” Azriel murmurs. As he did for Elain, he helps Feyre up from the bed. She allows him to, acting as she thinks she ought to but not as she wants to. She gets clean, follows Rhysand’s men to another tent with three simple bed rolls, nods at instructions not to bathe until the morning to let the scent set in.

The night is dark, but cannot shelter them from the crackle of fires outside nor the quiet conversations of men. Inside their small tent, the noise from outside is enough to provide a buffer as the sisters slip into bed, silent. Feyre cannot even meet their eyes.

She does not know what Elain or Nesta might be feeling. She hopes it isn’t a burning desire to jump back into Rhysand’s bed. She hopes they don’t feel like they are being torn apart inside from lust and shame. 

[bardicious]

Okay, I kinda wanna write something on the Carol/Jim factor of the latest episode.

Jim flirts. Jim flirts with everyone, theoretically. La'an, Uhura, Una, Spock. It's how he communicates friendliness and I really wager he just doesn't know the way he stares at people can be considered flirtatious either. He just genuinely finds them appealing, and fascinating. So... no this isn't him practicing infidelity, even if he were on with Carol at the moment.

Much like with Chapel, people do NOT give Carol any credit. She's a strong, professionally inclined woman, much like La'an. And Jim specifically tells La'an that her and Carol would get along. I'm willing to wager, like adults, both Jim and Carol have discussed what they're okay with in a relationship.

As for little baby David. Carol, what? Just got pregnant? Both of them know about it. They have ample time to stop the pregnancy if they so wish it. Which is not only fine in our day and age, but likely even simpler in the future. So they had to have discussed the baby, before she came to term.

Jim and Carol decided beforehand that Carol was going to keep David. Carol wanted to keep him. Jim having very little to say on the matter, except his approval (or disapproval?), because he still loves her, but knows they were never gonna stick together and so does she. Maybe he also wanted David to be born anyway, be raised by an amazing woman, become someone who was his own person, and Jim could love him from afar, but that's it.

Dead beat!dad simply isn't in the cards for him. And even if he was allowed to see David just a few times, all because he's not the majority of the time doesn't mean he's a bad dad. It just makes him absent. Perhaps not much of a relationship, but, hell, he didn't have much of one with his own father, and you know what? From his perspective, him and Sam came out just fine.

Now just a brief look at good ole Sam! Sam has work! Sam has a job! He's on the flagship! The enterprise, herself! He's most definitely discussed his career with his wife! Whether his wife or his children bear issue with his choice is another matter. We simply don't know unless we see them. Why demonize Sam for literally being on the ship that saves lives? The ship where any moment you can die?

Literally what is up with people encouraging unhealthy relationship dynamics?

Chapel shouldn't have to give up her career progress for Spock, Spock would never give up his career for anyone and he finds the only person he can love later (Jim) will sacrifice himself for the job as well. Chris and Batel in constant argument and miscommunication, Chapel and Spock too. And rightly so, because neither are communicating properly. Well, I'll wager that Jim and Carol did actually communicate. Because we know they can. We know both their characters!

This isn't to say David doesn't have another opinion. Neither his mother or father really thought properly of his emotional reaction to not having Jim in his life. But that's another matter, not easy to predict, likely the two did not think ahead that far. They're both fallible humans, who've saved countless peoples lives.

[eegasleega-will-change-this-l8r]

Sooo I wasn't planning on doing this post just yet and I don't have a good digital drawing of her yet, but

Ana!!

So my take on her is very different from how I think most people imagine her, I wanted to go in a different direction that made her more than just the girl one/ninten's girlfriend/nicher Paula and she's become one of my favorite characters to play around with ^^

Design details and a giant wall of text detailing her character and story below :3

So like the entirety of my interpretation of Ana stems from one thing

That face

T_T

Very prominent eyebrows (Invasion From the Unknown actually mentions the same thing!!! the illustrations don't show it though and there's not really any other similarities between that version and mine), mouth usually spread in a frown, she's not a happy person Pink dress with a white collar and frill at the bottom, pink hat with a black band (or maybe cream with a red/pink band? i might play around with that idk), red shoes and white stockings She almost always wears her hat when she's out, having to leave it behind in Reindeer was very frustrating but she knew she'd get it back eventually at least (And yeah, she's fat. Her sprite doesn't look fat, I haven't seen other designs that make her fat, I didn't really take inspiration from her model because I hate it and it's not really fat either, I just wanted there to be a fat girl who's not, like, a mean-spirited joke, and since MOTHER's sprites are suuuper vague I decided to take advantage of it and design the characters however I wanted. thank god i'm on tumblr and not posting these to reddit or something, they'd crucify me)

Now her character!

Basically, Ana is grumpy and sour Constantly

You can contrast that with Ninten's 24/7 positivity

In general, I see the world of MOTHER 1 being very bleak and gloomy, with Ninten being the sole exception who helps bring light to the places and people whose souls are being crushed by the weight of everything Ana's sort of the final boss of repressed emotions and pessimism for Ninten to tackle (besides the actual final boss, who completely blows anyone else's emotional repression out of the water - I have a Giygas post in my drafts but I honestly have too much to say about him, I need to trim it down ><) It alllllll plays into the themes I wanna play with in my M1 interpretation :3

So Ana was a young girl living with her mother and father in Snowman's local chapel. Even before the Invasion she was pretty well-known for not being particularly upbeat. She was super reserved, pretty much never smiled, and preferred reading and praying to other people's company. She got some of it from her father, who was a priest and raised her to value proper behaviour and following God or whatever, but she's also just kinda like that. Her mother was much warmer, loving her daughter and never judging her for being less outgoing than the other kids, and Ana was always happiest curled up with her next to the fire, listening to a story.

Oh, and of course she's psychic, powerfully so. Bad news if you tick her off. Her family regards it as a miracle from God. She's a little clairvoyant, but not enough to know exactly what the future holds. Just short little confusing snippets and hints of what to do and expect.

One day, everything suddenly changed. The town was hit by an earthquake, everything was covered in darkness, the animals on the outskirts of town went berserk, and people went missing. The sounds and the shaking jolted Ana awake, and she ran down the hall hoping to be comforted by her mother. Opened the door, standing there with a candle, staring at the empty bed and a shattered window.

Ana buried her feelings and set out to try and find her mother (her father just stayed home and prayed, never leaving the chapel), but the monsters and creatures that had appeared were too strong for her alone, and she could only get as far as Reindeer before she had to turn back. But she heard a little voice in her head that told her to leave her hat behind, and she knew that whoever returned it to her would be the person she had to follow to rescue her mother. She waited impatiently back at her home, praying with her father, obsessively reading the news (similar disappearances all over the country, especially in Easter, interesting), and hoping that the hero, "Ninten," would show up soon.

Eventually, after FAR longer than she was happy with, he showed up and. Is this really the hero? This is just some bucktoothed kid and his geeky friend. She shoved down her frustrations along with everything else (at the very least she appreciated finally having her hat back) and told him that she needed to join him. He's happy to meet her of course because he's Ninten ("New friend!" "We are not friends.") And so the trio gets to set off on their journey!

In the completely wrong direction. Why are we stopping in Halloween.

For some reason, Ninten doesn't seem overly concerned about the fate of the world. He and his stupid friend just keep goofing off and hunting for these useless melodies. This isn't a scavenger hunt. The world is gonna be destroyed. She's furious, but she bottles it up. This is the person who's apparently fated to save Earth, so she has to stay with him, no matter how annoying he is or how much time he wastes.

So Ana spends the whole journey getting progressively more ticked off as they keep getting distracted by the hunt for the melodies. Ninten's shenanigans and his relentlessly positive attitude continue to get on her nerves, and she refuses to engage with them. This is a SERIOUS mission, and she's not gonna stoop to their foolish level, even if she has to stick with them.

So I'll be able to get more into the fight among the group when Teddy joins when I do his post, but short story is that Ana is against Lloyd staying. If they're actually gonna see this mission through to its end, someone strong like Teddy's gonna be far more useful, and they've wasted far too much time to let Lloyd slow them down. Her anger's really starting to boil over at this point. They've been together for ages, and they've barely gotten any closer to saving the world.

This all finally comes to a head on the Mountain (I love the Mountain, everything happens on the Mountain). Ninten's starting to lose his cool as the stress of their journey starts getting heavier and heavier, having to leave Lloyd was incredibly painful, and he's angry with her for not having their backs. She snaps that they aren't friends, they're just allies on the same mission, and they can't afford to waste time goofing off and making pals, and the fight gets more and more heated until everything Ana's been holding in finally bursts free.

She's terrified, and she's been terrified ever since her mother disappeared, and she doesn't know if they can really win or if she'll ever see her mother again, and having to just stay bottled up while they just wandered around seemingly not doing anything has been awful, and infuriating, and she can't stop herself from crying anymore.

Ninten quiets down and lets her have what she needs for a few minutes before he tries to comfort her. He didn't realize she was keeping all this inside, and he feels horrible that she was dealing with this the entire time. Once her tears die down, he rests his hand on her and assures her that they're gonna save her mother, and everyone else, too. He doesn't know how, and he's terrified sometimes too, but he also knows that for whatever reason, they need the melodies if they want to win. He apologizes for just ignoring all her feelings for the entire journey, and tells her that even though she's been so firm about not liking them, he doesn't want her to be alone. She can tell him anything, she doesn't need to keep everything to herself. That's what being friends is about, right?

So this is huge for both of them, and it's when Ana finally starts to warm up. She finally sees that it's good to be open and have friends, and that they'll be stronger for it if they're close. And, as they climb further up the Mountain and continue being friends, she starts to realize some muuuuch more uncomfortable feelings, too. Of course she pushes them down at first, but when they reach the cabin, they're alone together, and who knows if she'll have another chance to open up like this, she comes out and asks Ninten to dance.

I flip-flop a lot on whether Ninten actually feels mutually about her (you can choose yes or no when she asks if you like her back, I don't think Ninten's really ready to figure that stuff out for himself), but goddd I love this scene so much, for such a simple, clunky game, its tender moments hit so hard ;-;

So by the end of the story, Ana's reunited with her mother, she finally has friends that she loves and cares about, she's discovered new things about herself, and she's developed a new sense of hope and brightness for the future. A happy ending :)

So that's my version of Ana, I think she's very different from every other version I've seen of her so it's not like I'll ever see content for her that'll really speak to me unfortunately, but I love her and I love thinking about her dynamic with the other characters ^^

[anonymouspuzzler]

my hourly comics from this year!! it ended up being an Extremely Eventful Day so there was a lot to cover, which was fun!

[Image IDs/transcripts under da cut!]

A collection of 19 three-panel comic strips done for Hourly Comics Day 2023. Each three-panel comic represents roughly an hour of the day. Two strips are contained in each image except the last, which contains only one strip, for a total of 10 images.

IMAGE 1 COMIC 1 (7AM) The first panel shows Puzz in bed, half-awake and drooling, with her hair everywhere. An alarm is going off on her phone, which is sitting on a floating shelf on the wall. The phone screen reads "UP!" and is blasting alarm music and vibrating loudly. The second panel shows a close-up of Puzz's face cropped by the bottom of the frame, looking agonized, while the alarm continues in the background. She thinks, "I wonder if I can ignore it long enough it shuts off". The final panel shows Puzz, in her pajamas and with her hair a mess, up and about holding a mug labeled "coffee". Her cat trails behind her with its mouth open, screaming "A". The panel is captioned "I could not." COMIC 2 (8AM) The first panel reads "TODAY'S FIT" followed by a bulleted list: "-big flannel -patched-up overalls -da boots -cap w/dinos all over LESBIANLY LOOKZ". Puzz is to the right of the list wearing the outfit in question, giving a thumbs-up. The second panel shows Puzz sitting in a desk chair in front of her laptop (helpfully labeled "LAP TOP"), smiling widely with sparkles all around her. The panel is captioned "check on gay people in my puter (girlfriend & friends on Discord). Word balloons from the laptop show a kitty, a boat, and the earth. The final panel shows a close-up of Puzz's face with a nervous grin, sweating profusely. The panel is captioned "have to send a project proposal". Puzz is thinking, "PLEASE LIKE IT PLEASE SEE IT AS A LOVE FOR THE WORK AND NOT A HUGE SELFISH IMPOSITION AAAAAAA". She has one shaking pointer finger raised, labeled "shaking over 'send'".

IMAGE 2 COMIC 3 (9AM (PT. 1)) The first panel shows a close-up of Puzz running and sweating with a grimace. Next to her is text reading "OK!! I'M LATE (as usual) BUT IF THIS PRINTS QUICK I CAN STILL CATCH THE CAMPUS SHUTTLE". The second panel shows Puzz with a backpack on, staring anxiously down at an office printer. The panel is captioned "6 full minutes of loading". The final panel shows Puzz, sweating and determined, sprinting away, with text above her reading "ACTUALLY FUCK THIS I WANNA LIVE". Next to her is text reading "(I barely made it to the shuttle.)" COMIC 4 (9AM (PT 2)) The first panel is captioned "on the shuttle..." and shows Puzz, now wearing a mask, looking out the window of said shuttle. Outside is a woman with shoulder-length hair wearing a simple coat and sunglasses, waving with one hand and holding A Single Banana Peel in the other. An arrow labels her "woman on a walk w/ a single banana peel??" Puzz has several question marks around her as she looks on in confusion. The second panel is captioned "targeted directly by the Double Fine official Twitter" and shows Puzz looking at her phone, visibly struggling not to laugh. A thought bubble coming from her reads "DON'T SCREAM LAUGH IN PUBLIC" repeatedly. The final panel shows Puzz off the shuttle, with a look of frantic realization, shouting "AH FUCK ME". An arrow pointing to her reads "forgot my tape measure AGAIN".

IMAGE 3 COMIC 5 (10AM) The first panel shows Puzz sitting at a table with her tablet and a keyboard, visibly smiling behind her mask, with text around her reading "CLASS TIME!" The second panel shows Puzz at the same table, now looking more distressed and concerned. Around her are multiple disconnected word balloons reading "CANCEL CULTURE", "CENSORSHIP", "SO THIS GUY ON YOUTUBE-", "WOKEISM", "KANYE", "TRIGGERED", "REVERSE-CULTURAL APPROPRIATION", "DAVE CHAPELLE", and "IT'S LIKE CAN I EVEN SAY ANYTHING". The final panel shows a close-up of Puzz looking exhausted, with text above and around her reading, "ah... yes... this is why I left the Fine Arts..." An arrow pointing to her reads "remembering". COMIC 6 (11AM) The first panel is captioned "STILL CLASS". Puzz is shown with a thoughtful expression, gesturing with both hands, saying in decorative text "Insightful observation". There are sparkles flying around everywhere. The second panel shows Puzz now kicking back at the table, leaning back in her chair, feet on the table, tablet in her lap. She holds her pen in one hand and gives a thumbs-up with the other. Text above her reads, "well, that's my Brain(TM) for today! I draw Loboto now thanks." The final panel shows an extreme close-up on Puzz's face, looking deeply annoyed. Text behind her spoken by someone offscreen reads "ANYWAY I GET SOOO TRIGGERED HAVING TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE'S FEELINGS-" A thought balloon from Puzz reads "SETTING U ON FIRE W/ MY MIND".

IMAGE 4 COMIC 7 (12PM) The first panel is captioned "MEETING W/ MY PROF". A word bubble from said professor offscreen reads, "that observation was so insightful". Puzz, holding her tablet under one arm, pumps her fist, with text next to her reading "HELL YES". The second panel shows Puzz from behind talking to the professor, a nondescript woman with a shaggy bob haircut and dark shirt. The professor says, "don't worry too much! If you try, you'll pass! even if you just do a lecture over photos!" Puzz, with a smiling expression behind her mask, replies, "oh, good!" The final panel shows Puzz, still smiling behind her mask, holding up her tablet (which has a nondescript sketch of an installation proposal) and saying, "so here's my rough draft-" The offscreen professor interrupts, "ok so this proposal alone is what I'd assign as a whole semester's work". COMIC 8 (1PM) The first panel is captioned "CHECKING MESSAGES (NICE 2 ME...)" and shows Puzz checking her phone, which is emitting a word balloon with three exclamation points. Puzz is staring down at it with a big-eyed expression, crying tears of joy. The second panel is captioned "SENDING MAIL" and shows Puzz at a post office window, with a mail clerk with a ponytail and envelope earrings seen from behind holding a box. The clerk says "oh, you used the wrong label", and Puzz, expression blank, replies "ah". The final panel is captioned "5 minute Starbux sandwich". It shows Puzz frantically shoving said sandwich whole into her mouth with both hands, with a "HORF." sound effect.

IMAGE 5 COMIC 9 (2PM) The first panel is captioned "THERAPY TIME!" and under that, "3x EYE CONTACT COMBO". Puzz is in the center of the frame wearing a headset mic, smiling into the camera. Behind her to the right is her cat, staring directly into the camera atop a cat tree. Behind her to the left is a Spamton plush in a desk organizer, also looking directly into the camera. The second panel shows Puzz, looking mildly chastised, at her computer, through which her therapist speaks, saying "you're not gonna like hearing this. you might need to take things out of your schedule". Puzz replies simply "mm", but a caption above her reads "SHE WAS RIGHT". The final panel has the therapist offscreen saying, "let's roleplay that scenario! How are you feeling?" Puzz, grinning nervously with eyes wide and sweat pouring down her face, replies, "VERY ANXIOUS". COMIC 10 (3PM) The first panel shows Puzz from the knees down walking left. Her cat chases after her, looking up and meowing plaintively. The second panel shows Puzz staring down at her cat, comically wide-eyed and sobbing, with text behind her reading "oh NO... my sweet little baby ohhhhh I was gone so long and I have to leave again oh NOOOOO sweetie I'm so sorry I wish I could stayyy" The final panel shows Puzz from the knees down again. Her cat tackles her leg, grabbing and biting it, while she shouts "HEY".

IMAGE 6 COMIC 11 (4PM (CLASS... 2!!)) The first panel shows Puzz's professor, a bald Black man with glasses and a very thin goatee wearing a button-up, holding up a tupperware labeled "cookiez". He says, "so, these were here when I sat down..." Puzz, looking sheepish, raises her hand and says, "oh, I brought those for the class!" The second panel shows Puzz's professor taking a cookie, saying, "in that case, I will take two- hm, no, there's not that many. I'll be fair and take one." The final panel shows a nondescript male classmate of Puzz's on his laptop in the background, saying, "you could've just claimed them all since they were up front". Puzz's professor, in the foreground seen slightly from behind, replies "well considering this class is on Marxism..." COMIC 12 (5PM) The first panel is captioned "THIS CLASS IS 3 HOURS LONG AND THERE IS NO BREAK", and shows Puzz and her friend Oscar (helpfully labeled as such) fitting at a table, both staring slightly blankly ahead. Oscar is a slight man with curly hair and glasses, wearing a fluffy sweater over a dark shirt, as well as a black mask. Oscar is on a laptop (labeled "FRUIT!") while Puzz has her tablet keyboard out. A thought bubble coming from Puzz reads "LOADING..." The second panel is captioned "IT IS ALSO EXTREMELY INTELLECTUALLY INTENSE" and shows a close-up on Puzz, looking distressed. She thinks, "OH GOD I BARELY RETAINED THESE READINGS". The final panel shows an over-the shoulder-view of Puzz with her tablet in her lap, looking frantic as she repeatedly taps the screen with her pen. Text above her reads "I KEEP TRYING TO WORK ON THESE COMICS STEALTHILY BUT MY PEN KEEPS DISCONNECTING AAAAAAA"

IMAGE 7 COMIC 13 (6PM) The first panel is captioned "FINALLY HITTING MY GROOVE...?" Puzz, looking tired but thoughtful, gestures with both hands, saying, "the passage reminded me of - and forgive me for bringing this up - Elon Musk," The second Panel shows a classmate of Puzz's, a brunette woman with a flowing dress on, smiling and gesturing to her book, saying "see I put in my notes 'Jeff Bezos'". Puzz, looking to be barely holding back laughter, snickers, while her professor in the foreground doubles over and wheezes. The final panel shows another classmate of Puzz's, a woman in a dark v-neck shirt and black mask, gesturing with one pointer finger up. She says, "I have an addition". The professor, in the foreground looking over at her, says "Will it bring us back on topic to the reading?" The classmate hesitantly replies "yyyyyesss..." COMIC 14 (7PM) The first panel is captioned "A BUNCH OF US TEND TO LOITER OUTSIDE TALKING SHOP AFTER CLASS". It shows Puzz and Oscar, the brunette classmate (who is smiling and waving as she walks off), and two other classmates (one with dark curly hair and a bulky jacket, the other with light wavy hair and a lighter cardigan) all gesticulating and talking animatedly. The second panel shows Puzz, with a big cat grin, hugging Oscar. Puzz says "see ya tomorrow!" and Oscar replies, "can't wait for your hourlies!" The final panel is captioned "HEAR MY FRIEND PARKER SHOUT W/ DELIGHT FROM DOWN THE HALL". Puzz is crowded in the frame by an "AAAAA!!" word balloon surrounded by hearts and smiley faces. Puzz barely holds in a laugh as she walks by.

IMAGE 8 COMIC 15 (8PM) The first panel is captioned "REALLY GOOD NEWS & PRETTY SAD NEWS COME TO ME AT EXACT SAME TIME", and shows Puzz, now with mask and hat off, sitting at her laptop, looking down at her phone with surprise. The second panel shows Puzz sitting quietly at her desk, having set her phone face-down in front of her. She looks up with a thoughtful expression, tears in her eyes. The final panel is captioned "we'll focus on the good." It shows Puzz from behind sitting at her desk, beginning to draw. There are two monitors in front of her, a cup of pens to her right side, and a water bottle, lamp and fan to her left. COMIC 16 (9PM) The first panel shows Puzz, face mostly out of frame, leaning down with a cup of cat food in one hand. Her cat is sitting in front of her, staring up expectantly, surrounded by sparkles, with the elevated food dish next to her. The panel is captioned in decorative text "Kitty Dinner". The second panel shows Puzz, looking tired but determined, sitting in front of her tablet drawing. Small text next to her reads "CATCHUP HOURS..." The final panel is captioned "DISTRACTED BY TUMBLR A LOT..." and shows Puzz typing at her laptop, looking confused but entertained, saying "where did all these asks come from??"

IMAGE 9 COMIC 17 (10PM-11PM) The first panel is captioned "COMBINED BC MOST OF IT WAS EXTENSIVE PROJECT TALK" and shows Puzz typing furiously at her laptop with an expression of mischievous delight. The second panel is captioned "I CAN'T TALK ABOUT WHAT I'M WORKING ON FOR A BIT BUT I'M EXCITED AND GRATEFUL". It shows Puzz looking surprised and mock-offended as her cat steps on the laptop keyboard in front of her, causing random symbols to be typed. The final panel is captioned "ART IS COOL" and shows Puzz smiling serenely, having picked up her confused-looking cat with both arms, holding it against her. COMIC 18 (12PM) The first panel shows Puzz looking tired but triumphant, holding up her tablet pen with her tablet tucked against her other side, with text reading "CAUGHT UP...!!" and sparkles all around. The second panel shows Puzz typing at her laptop, smiling but still looking tired, thinking, "let's post these... how many more should I do...? Till bed, I guess..." The final panel shows Puzz, still at her laptop, yawning deeply.

IMAGE 10 COMIC 19 (...) This page shows two rows of three panels each. The first five panels are all empty. The final panel shows Puzz lying in bed asleep, covered in quilts and surrounded by plush toys, with her cat asleep at her feet.

[august-blogs]

uhh life 7/7/2024

-7/7/2010 was my due date. I was born 10 days late. I would come up with something poetic to say but it's late and I have no ideas. (Maybe I was born late because I knew the world wasn't a nice place to be. Nvm that's shit lmao. I sound like rupi kaur 😭)

-im turning 14 in 10 days. Crazy. Fucking crazy.

-since they moved where my camp is barely any of my friends from the last 2 years will be there :( like I'm still excited but I'm also really sad. I don't wanna meet new people lmao I like my old friends that I only see once a year

-my great grandparents have dementia. They live in the memory care unit of an assisted living. It always smells terrible in the halls and my grandma can't remember how to tie off a bracelet. This is hell.

-this fourth of July was maybe the worst one ever. I just felt kinda depressed and I wasn't doing anything for it and it just felt really somber compared to either last year or the year before where I went to a cookout with one of my best friends and we swam and watched fireworks and I slept over at her house and. It felt like old times. Something I kind of desperately need more of. But alas.

-i realized recently that I like complaining about church more than actually being at church. It doesn't help I don't talk to the one other person my age there cause we dated and broke up. But also they think they're such social justice warriors. In the visitors pamphlet it says something about like "we will fight for what's right etc. etc." like. You haven't mentioned Palestine in like 4 months and you constantly pat yourselves on the back for being one of the first open and affirming churches in the area. Like that was fifteen years ago. Get over it. Remember you can always do better.

-anyway I guess I'm gonna make some resolutions or a list of things to do before I turn 15 :p. I'll clue you in on those when that happens

But yeah. I'll write something better soon. I just want this to be a semi-active sideblog lol and I can make that happen by blogging

🎧: Dark Alley-Fall Out Boy, Disorder-Joy Division, Love Will Tear Us Apart-Joy Division, I miss you-blink 182, silver springs-Fleetwood Mac, good luck babe!-chapell roan

[thesconesyard]

Yeehaw! Day three! Featuring the horse that was nearly impossible to name! 🤠🐴

When the Cactus Blooms

3. Wanted Poster

“Wagon or horse?”

McCoy stood inside the kitchen. Uhura and Christine were getting the dishes cleaned up from breakfast with Keenser and Chekov’s help.

“Horse,” Christine said as she looked over at him.

“Alright,” McCoy said. “We’ll be ready when you are.” He turned and left the kitchen through the porch door and headed for the stables.

He hummed a tune to himself as walked. The day was beginning to warm, but a breeze was keeping it from getting too hot.

Through the stable and out the back into the pasture, he gave a two note whistle. Honey turned and looked at him.

“C’mon girl. Time to saddle up.”

Nearer to him one of the other horses was grazing. McCoy walked over and patted its side.

“You too, Pepper.”

Christine was waiting in the shade of the porch when McCoy returned, leading the two horses. He could hear her laughing but couldn’t see who was with her.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Oh Leo!” she said, turning around. “Yes I am.”

She came down the porch stairs, Scotty behind her.

“Where are ye two off to?” Scotty asked, looking slightly puzzled. “Ye aren’t helping with the branding are ye Miss Christine?”

Christine laughed again, but McCoy gave a slight shudder. He knew that branding the cattle was important but it was still his least favorite activity around the ranch.

“Oh no,” Christine answered Scotty. “Leo and I are heading into town. Send some letters, pick up a few things.”

“You wanna ride Honey? She’s good and calm today,” McCoy asked when Christine reached him.

“Absolutely not,” she slapped him lightly on the chest. “Pepper’s a good lively girl. Aren’t you?” She turned to pat the horse on the neck, and grinned at Scotty.

“Up with ya then so we can get going,” McCoy told her with a raised brow.

She got a foot in the stirrup, and with McCoy’s hands firm around her gave a jump at the same time he lifted up. The Enterprise ranch had no side saddles. The ladies, often as not, usually went to town in the wagon. But for a short trip, Christine had no problem sitting to the side in a normal saddle.

After all, McCoy knew as soon as they were out of sight of anyone else, she’d fix her skirts and sit astride anyway. He turned back to Honey and swung into the saddle.

“Hope branding goes easy,” he said to Scotty, who was still watching them from the foot of the steps. Scotty blinked in surprise at him, before his eyes seemed to focus again on McCoy.

“Aye. Thank ye. Good luck in town. Miss Christine.” Scotty gave a nod of his head, strode away, just slightly faster than McCoy expected.

He watched after Scotty for a moment before Christine reached across and swatted at him. McCoy looked over and saw the questioning look on her face.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning forward quickly and nudging Honey along.

“You should just say something!” Christine called behind him. “You know I’m always right!”

“Where ya wanna go first?” McCoy asked as they turned onto the main street of the town.

“Take care of the letters.”

They reached the post office, and McCoy swung down first to tie up the horses and then help Christine. She didn’t need the help of course, but in town she didn’t want people to think her improper.

McCoy held the door and they were greeted by the clerk behind the counter.

“Best give us everybody’s,” Christine said, “no one else will be in any time soon.”

“Certainly Miss Chapel. Give me a moment.”

The clerk turned for the back room and disappeared.

McCoy had stepped over to a wall with notices posted.

“Anyone new?” Christine asked, stepping over and taking his arm.

“This fella,” McCoy nodded. “Marcus. Corruption and theft.” The dark haired man on the poster was unhappy looking.

“Murder,” Christine mumbled softly. “Hope they catch him soon.”

“Here you are Miss Chapel.” The clerk came back with a bundle of envelopes and one small box. “Let me tie those up for you.” He produced a string and wrapped it handily around the envelopes.

Christine thanked him as McCoy tucked the letters inside his jacket pocket.

“Lead on Miss Christine,” McCoy grinned and gestured at the door.

Christine rolled her eyes. “Let’s go see Geoff.”

[landlockedcorsair]

I think researching over the last few days kinda fucked me up. Unsure how to proceed. At least I know who I am. I just kinda regressed to the point that I can’t trust anyone and feel so so angry. TW: csa. Stop now if that’ll bother you.

I have three random memories that make no sense. I’ve known about then since I was 19. The memories are from when I was prolly 3-7yrs. They’re like snippets as sharp as if they were yesterday and then they go black.

I remember being at my grandparents house, playing with those stickers that pop up almost like a 3d effect. It was Simba and Nala stickers. Anyways, I could see the dust against the light shining through my grandmas white-doily curtains. Then there was a presence. The memory ends.

I’m in a bright room. My mom sent me to some two-week birdwatching camp with people I’d never met before. On the first day, I was forced to kill an abandoned baby bird and was trying to avoid people in that bright room. Someone started talking to me; I didn’t look at her, I was scratching at the paint on the edge of the closet. She said her pussy tastes like peaches and I don’t remember anything else about being at that camp or when left.

We went to my stepdad’s parents house in the winter. His two younger brothers lived there. I went into the “woods” with Matt to adventure. He was the youngest, just a couple years older than me. Suddenly something happened, idk what, but some alleged danger. He insisted that we climb into a tree. He was behind me. It was very cold out. I remember feeling his breath, hot against the back of my neck, and so hot behind my ears and then memory over.

Like, I know what happened at this point. First story is probably the marine kid my grandparents fostered, second is whoever tf my mom handed me off to, and the third is pretty blatant. I refused to take showers for years (baths only) because I would flip the fuck out of anything warm touched the back of my ears. What’s fucked up is I kinda have an impression of two others and I don’t even wanna fucking acknowledge them. It’s not okay. I don’t wanna remember them.

One of my previous landlords went to prison for cp. My partner and I have been kinda losing it since. I guess the disassociation makes sense now. My memory is shit, but I’d prefer it be swiss cheese, rather than know what happened after those memories end.

My life has been shit. Why’d it have to be this way? What is the point of this? Did it make any difference? Or was it arbitrary suffering? Why do I remember the chapel so well? What is this all for?

[lenievi]

snw2 #10

My personal episode ranking based on my enjoyment: 3 - 9 - 6 - 4 - 10 - 2 - 8 - 1 - 7 - 5 (might change after I do a rewatch)

I loved the whole season so much <3

Sam Kirk is really lucky that he can't die lol

AFTER 20 EPISODES THEY FINALLY GAVE ME A MEANINGFUL SPOCK AND UNA INTERACTION. WOW. will wonders never cease? Send me gifs! :D

Why was I right thinking that there would be another legacy character surprise in the finale? [I'm kinda not a fan of how much he's trying to copy the original tho...]

also La’an just remembering the roster of Cayuga… reading Jim Kirk’s personnel file (but apparently not Sam’s?)

glad to know that my prediction that Spock and Chapel won't end on a bad note this season came true (I mean, yes, at the beginning of the season I thought they would end it (because I didn't expect them to end Spock and T'Pring), but as the season progressed, and especially after the musical, I was like nah, they're still not finished with Spock/Chapel, and it's nice that their relationship ended on a hope - considering the looong hiatus. I mean maybe they both apologize, Chapel leaves, and that's it, but until then...)

(before the musical, before the whole business with Kirk/La'an, I was like, yeah, the season might end up with Spock/Chapel separated, but when they broke La'an's heart, I was like there's no way they're gonna end all three romantic relationships as separated by the end of the season)

Marie isn't dead either, so there is also hope for them to figure out how to save her. idk like they can freeze her, can't they? (that's typically what happens when a character is put into a stasis at the end of the season - well, they might subvert the expectations, but I think letting her live is already subverting the expectations) [if she can't be saved, I don't think Pike would start another romantic relationship... not with anyone in Starfleet, at least]

The finale doing what I more or less expected with the relationships, makes me feel good about what I still expect for Kirk/La'an (don't wanna people start saying La'an's gonna die in the first ep of s3 now tho - like what writing would that be if she lost a love, got her heart broken, and then was immediately killed by the Gorn who took her entire family and were half of the cause why she can't be vulnerable and is distant from everyone?)

guess only babies are really really aggressive and adult Gorns are more like the one in the Arena

kinda fun that I expected the Enterprise crew to be split up, but a bit differently - i.e. Pike's group stuck on the planet

now La'an is back among the Gorn (that was also a cliffhanger I expected) :( With Sam and others. Maybe in the first episode of s3, Kirk will come and save the day LMAO (I don't want that but it's just fun to think about - fun things to think about VS what I want to see in the show are two separate things) (yes, don't @ me that Kirk didn't know what a Gorn was)

"Sam, trying to play a hero?" "Shut up, Jim."

(and then the Farragut will take in Scotty. Even though some novels did always have Uhura and Scott serve under Pike - maybe SNW will give us background for Scott/Uhura 👀 (even though I personally like Chekov/Uhura)) But no, I don't expect Scotty to stay.

s3 bring on McCoy!

[sunshinealexisw]

8/20/21

Our Anniversary was yesterday.

My mom took the kids out for a few hours. I don't think she knew what day it was, but it helped me a lot. I just took a bath and listened to music. Cried through the whole thing.

I'm upset because I don't think you remembered or cared. I know things are different now, but that was still an important day to me.

I remember every second of that day.

We left for Vegas early af. It was our first trip out by ourselves. First time I drove there. Jamming the whole way there. Went straight to the courthouse to get our documents. Went to the chapel. Boom, we're married. I was wearing that white dress we found at ross because nothing else fit over my pregnant belly. Checked into our room and just hung out together all day. Called both of our moms and everyone freaked out. But we didn't care, cause we knew we had each other so nothing else mattered.

That was real for me. I don't care that it was a quick 1 day trip to Vegas. We basically eloped. It still mattered. That day was the first time I ever felt that the future was going to be okay. I found the man that I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with and we were putting it in wiriting.

We didn't wanna spend money on a whole huge wedding. It was also COVID so there was no way we could plan anything. It was perfect. It was us.

I hate you for not taking that day seriously.

You threw it away like it didn't even matter. When I said I was in it for the long haul, I meant it. You just got so deep into your issues and didn't see another way out of it then by getting rid of me. It's like you kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, until there was no other option but to separate. I tried to explain to you how we could fix this, fix us, get you the help that you needed. But you didn't care. You still want to live the live you had planned when you first moved out here. I was just an unplanned bump in the road so you stepped over me. Its worse because the kids got involved.

We were meant to be a different path on the road, a better one, not a bump. But you chose to continue down the original path and I couldn't follow you down it. The kids can't follow you down it. It's not safe, no matter who is trying to convince you. Why would you want the kids to grow up the same way we did? We're supposed to want better for them, better for us.

After that night, you begged me to take you back. You said you'd stop drinking. You'd focus on our family. You'd help me with the household work and taking care of the kids. You'd put in an effort at work so the financial burden didn't fall on me. You'd be better. You begged me, crying. I said we can try. I spoke to the case work and detective vouching for you. We set up those appointments for the VA. You came back home and you were better. It felt like you were actually trying. Actually fighting for us. We went on vacation. We had the best time we've ever had. You said it yourself, this was what we needed for our relationship.

Came back and found out the next month that I was pregnant. I thought this was God giving us a chance to do right be each other and our kids. Our settlement was progressing, we're able to move into a bigger place soon. Everything was falling into place.

And then the letter came, and you lost it.

You lost hope in us. You lost hope in our situation. You gave up. You involved her and she used everything in the book to convince you that it was all my fault. It was my fault for calling the police that night. It was my fault for allowing you to get that drunk, always. It was my fault for getting pregnant and having your kids. It was my fault for dragging you to Vegas to get married. It was my fault that you'd flirt with and sleep with other women. It was my fault that you stopped working that stable security job. Everything was my fault and you fell for it. You didn't even try to stick up for me and tell her the truth. You just went with it to help justify yourself. To turn me into the bad guy and you into the victim.

Take responsibilities for your actions.

How are you the victim when you chose to drink that much? You chose to put your hands on me. You chose to destroy the house. You chose to continue doing these things even after I begged you to stop because the kids were terrified. You chose to traumatize them. And every single time this stuff happened, you were coming home from drinking with your mom! So how is it my fault?

AJ won't sleep in his own bed. Because the last time he did, he woke up to his dad destroying the house and walking out. Aaliyah is scared of loud noises. Even if a cup falls on the ground and makes a thud, she starts crying. She still remembers being stuck in her crib while he father smashed glass on the ground and threw everything to the floor around her. I couldn't even get to her because of all the glass around her crib. Now it's embedded in her brain that if she hears a loud thud, or stays in the crib for too long, that something is wrong and no one is coming to save her.

You've traumatized our kids.

And I thought you were working to fix that. But you don't care. Because you went through it as a kid. I went through it as a kid. So it's just normal to you. Its not okay.

Now I have to pick up the pieces. I have to make sure they're okay. I have to hold it down, work, be pregnant, and still deal with all of your court bullshit.

So much for a wedding anniversary.

[rafescoke]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her. 

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill. 

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up. 

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her. 

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?” 

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting. 

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck. 

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes. 

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after. 

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

-

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[writerinthedark21]

The songbird and her lover

Isiah jesus x black!oc

Summary: Ruby shelby had known isiah ever since she had stumbled into an abandoned church and decided to sing as if no one was watching. Little did she know Isiah was right above her listening to the most angelic voice he had ever heard. 

Word count:  4,170

Warnings: Slight angst (my first fic)

---

Ruby shelby.

The second youngest in the shelby family. Born only 3 years before Finn

No one dared to question how she inherited her melantied complexion or coily hair that reached up to the heavens above them. 

At least not after Thomas overheard a snide remark made towards Ruby at just the age of 3 and that man was never seen again after he walked out of the garrison. 

Even though Ruby seemed to be born with never ending confidence and a smile as bright as the sun over the years the light within Ruby grew dim as she truly realized the world she lived in.

She learned to keep the parts she loved most about herself secret. The outspoken, radiant, excited parts of herself she learned to be ashamed of.

It was only when she had found herself wondering into an abandoned chapel on a saturday afternoon when she had finally let that side of herself out.

The silent chapel was soon filled with Ruby’s voice as she sang the lullaby her aunt Polly used to sing to help her sleep.

Unbeknownst to her a silent listener was sitting on the church's balcony in a paralysed state as he listened to her angelic voice bounce off the tattered walls and broken windows. 

After a couple minutes of singing, the song had finally come to an end and for the first time in years Ruby had finally felt at peace as she started to walk out of the old building.

Isiah only gained back feeling in his legs when he heard Ruby’s footsteps descended into the distance. 

And that’s when the spark between the two started to light.

A songbird and her listener.

Ruby and Isiah only officially met when he joined the peaky blinders.

“Ruby, Isiah” Thomas says as Ruby had walked in and noticed the new boy in the room.

Isiah was doing everything in his power to not make himself look like a fool in front Ruby.

He had heard so many boys talk about how beautiful and pretty she was and he’d be lying through his teeth if he disagreed. 

Without thinking he outstretched his hand praying that she’d shake it. With a soft smile on her face Ruby took his hand and it was like electricity ran through the both of them.

“I just um....I’ll head up to my room now...” Ruby said feeling a new type of heat run up to her cheeks.

Hearing her voice was like he finally had the finale piece to the puzzle beautiful voice he hears every Saturday ever since he was 12.

Isiah tried not to stare for too long as Thomas continued with whatever he was saying before Ruby walked in.

Over the years the two became closer but it was only in group settings. 

The first time Isiah and Ruby truly had a moment on their own was when Ruby had turned 15 and Isiah had taken her to a cafe that sat right across from the theater Ruby loved with all her heart. 

Little did she know Isiah had secured two seats to the newest show.

As they sat and waited on their food and drinks Isiah finally asked a question that had been itching his brain for the past couple days. 

“What do you want to be when you get older?” 

The question had made Ruby freeze in place. Not from fear but surprise. No one really cared or had the time to ask her what she wanted to be. 

“um I really don’t know...a nurse I guess...I was always good at stiching up my brothers and what not so...” Ruby says fidgeting with the hem of her dark blue dress hoping he couldn’t see through her lies.

“Okay that’s nice....now the truth” Isiah says refusing to look away from Ruby as a small smile spread on her face. 

“I wanna....one day I want to be a singer....to see ‘The marvelous Ruby shelby’ up in lights and sing on some big stage and everyone throwing bouquets at my feet...”

“Yeah....that’s my dream” Ruby finished with a sigh as she gazed to the theater across from the cafe. 

Isiah had never loved Ruby like he did in this very moment. 

“I’m gonna make that happen” He lets out without thinking.

A laugh flies out of Ruby’s mouth not thinking he was serious until she finally tore her eyes away from the theater to find an expression she had never seen before on Isiah’s face.

“I’m gonna hold you to that....” Ruby says a smile forming on her face as she looked back out to the theater.

It wasn’t until Ruby’s 17th birthday when a moment like this happened again.

“Happy birthday, Ruby” He whispers handing her the record.

For years Ruby had been wishing and praying for this album. Every time Ruby had mentioned it in front of Isiah he made sure to rummage through every record store in London.

And finally after months of searching he had found it and he didn’t even look at the price before buying it.

Because Isiah knew the look on Ruby’s face when she opened it was worth the large dent in his pocket.

“Oh my god” Ruby’s voice was filled with shock and joy as she finally tore off all the wrapping paper.

“You like it?” Isiah asks half joking, but picking at his skin to hear her response. 

“DO I LIKE- Isiah-” She set the record down before pulling him for the tightest hug he had ever received.

For a moment Isiah was too stunned to even move. 

The feeling of her soft skin on the back of his neck, the smell of her vanilla perfume filling up his nostrils, and the thought of holding her like this for rest of his life made him paralysed.

It was when he started to feel her pull away when he finally reacted. He pulled her in like he was scared of losing her.

As if she was dying and the only cure was his loving embrace. 

For a moment he had completely forgotten that her whole family was in the room watching them. 

A small snicker could be heard from arthur.

They pull away with heated faces. 

Ruby knew she felt something in that moment but decided to hold it down and bury it until one special day only months later.

Isiah had been become more secretive over the months. Not showing up for meetings, more distracted than ever before, and even pulling away from Ruby.

No one could figure out why until he walked in one day with a girl wrapped around his arm. 

They all had could already guessed it but actually seeing isiah seemingly in love with a girl that wasn’t Ruby had all shocked them.

“I’ll be out for the day I just had to stop by to keep something-”

“Here you go-” Ruby had stopped mid sentence when she realized that it wasn’t just Isiah that had walked in.

“Who’s this?” Ruby asked feeling a bitterness grow within her as she noticed Isaiah's arm wrapped so nicely around the girls shoulders.

At that moment many of the man found excuses to walk out of the room leaving only Ruby, Polly, Isiah and the girl he had brought with him.

“My um....Ruby this is pearl...my date to the theater” 

“Pearl, Ruby.....Ruby, Pearl” Isaiah finished.

Ruby swallowed the bitterness rising within her as she moved the present to one arm and shook the girls gloved hand. 

“Nice to meet you Pearl”   

“You as well Ruby....” A striking silence soon filled the room.

“Well I think we should get going....Thanks for keeping this safe for me” Isaiah says as he takes the present from Ruby’s arms.

“Yeah no problem....hope you two have fun...” Ruby says refusing to truly look at Isiah until they turn to walk away.

Finally looking up to see Isiah help Pearl put her jacket on to protect her from the nightly chill broke Ruby’s heart in two. 

Watching him walk out the door was more painful than it had ever been before. Seeing him hold a certain admiration and care for this girl had hurt Ruby in a way she never thought could. 

“You okay over there?” Polly asked suspiciously from behind the newspaper.

“Yes aunt Polly....” 

“Sure Ruby, Sure” Polly says before getting up and walking to Ruby’s side.

“Just....I’ve only seen that look you have right now on love sick puppies that think their chance at love has passed...”

Ruby doesn’t say a word because if she tried to deny Polly’s words she’d be telling the worst lie known to mankind. But if she agreed than she’d be even more heartbroken than before.

“But I promise you dear...his love for a ruby is nothing compared to that of a pearl” Polly sghs out before walking out of the room leaving Ruby longing looking to the front door.

Ruby had secretly held onto those words until she had finally moved out into her own place in hopes of living a life not filled with the violence she grew up with.

She had a nice day job as a nurse and a secret weekend job at a pub that let her sing her heart out to the willing participants. 

But somehow the past always finds a way to follow you.

That past came in full swing for Ruby on a random Saturday afternoon a bleeding out isiah and beat up peaky blinders showed up at her doorstep seeking for safe keeping.

“Hey beautiful” Isiah said almost unconscious when Ruby finally let them in.

“What the hell happened?” Ruby yells out as they placed Isiah's flailing body on her living room couch.

“He got fucking shot Ruby…get your kit and help us out” Finn yelled as he put pressure on the wound.

Isiah almost forgot he got shot until Finn put what felt like too much pressure on the wound. 

He let out a sharp howl making everyone in the room cringe.  

“Fuck” Ruby whispered as she turned and ran to her bathroom rummaging through the cabinet under the sink.

Ruby always questioned if she really wanted to run away from the life she was born in as she pulled out her emergency kit.

“Lay him on the floor for me and hold him down as best you can.......please” Ruby firm voice silences the frantic voice filling the living room.

The men make quick action to place Isiah on the ground and hold him as still as possible.

She took a quick look at the punctured and bleeding hole on the bottom of Isiah’s right side. 

Ruby realized she didn’t remember much as she washed off Isiah’s blood from her hands in the kitchen sink.

The only thing that kept coming back to her was how loud Isiah’s scream was as she stitched him up. 

“Ruby? I’ve been calling after you for a minute.....you okay?” Finn’s voice was almost lost in her state of shock but eventually his voice peaked through.

The only one that stayed after Isiah was all stitched was Finn. 

“Oh um...yes...I just haven’t had my brother and his friend barge into my house and demand me to stich one of them up....”

“Sorry about yelling at you-”

“Finn I’ve been through worse and you’ve done far worse so...” Ruby turned to dry her hands off with the rag sitting on the edge of the kitchen sink.

“Thank you for...I know you wanted to get away from all of that and just live out your life as some mysterious jazz singer...”

“How did you know about that-”

“Isiah...He um he couldn’t shut up about you after you left...he was crying drunk one night and was all on about “never getting you your own club” or something like that...called you his songbird” Finn says reminiscing about how love sick his best friend had become over the years. 

Ruby didn’t realize that had brought a smile on to her face until Finn pointed and started laughing.

“God you’re just as in love as he is...” Finn said under his breath before walking out and into the living room where Isiah’s sleeping body was laying on the now ruined and bloody couch.

“He can sleep in my bed...I’ll take the couch-”

“You know he won’t allow that-”

“Well I guess we’ll find out when he wakes up...won’t we?” Ruby asked slowly turning her head to meet her brothers gaze.

It took only a couple minutes before they had finally reached Ruby’s bedroom and laid Isiah in the bed.

“He can stay as long as he needs...” Ruby says looking at Isiah’s sleeping body in her fresh linens. 

“Thank you for helping me get him up here..”

“Thank you for helping him live...” Finn said truly feeling the weight of everything that had transpired that afternoon. 

It wasn’t long before Finn was walking out the front door and Ruby had found a comfortable spot on the couch. 

Ruby didn’t remember going to sleep on the couch.

“Why are you sleeping down here?” Isiah’s tired voice woke Ruby with a start.

“What are you doing down here-“

“I should be asking you that” Isiah says before feeling a sharp pain shoot up through his body and he starts to double over from the pain. 

Ruby jumps up from her position on the couch and joins Isiah at his side helping him sit down on the couch.

“The second the pain subsides I’m taking you back upstairs” Ruby says as Isiah let out a groan.

“Only if you slept with me” Isiah says not realizing the innuendo in his statement.

Ruby wiped her head around to look at him.

“OH no not like that- I um- Jesus I meant sleeping in the same bed....nevermind I’ll just take the couch and you can have your bed-”

“God no Isiah you’re too big for this couch for one night you can take my bed-”

“No I couldn’t I barged in bleeding out....didn’t even say hello. So just let me take the couch as a thank you”

“You living is thank you enough so just take my bed-”

“No I refuse...unless you take up the empty space next to me...”

Ruby, tired of fighting uphill with Isiah finally gave in and helped him upstairs to her bedroom.

Slowly and with great care Ruby helped Isiah to her queen sized bed.

“There’s enough space for the two of us….plus I always slept better knowing you were safe” Isiah says ginger playing with the hem of Ruby’s nightgown.

“…..fine” Ruby says making a smile spread over Isiah face.

He moved over to give her space to climb in the bed.

After a couple minutes of silence and staring at the ceiling Isiah's voice finally filled the air.

“I’ve missed…. I’ve missed you a lot Ruby….” His raspy voice lets out as he turns to play with Ruby’s loose curls.

“...me too...but I can’t go back there Isiah..”

“I know....I know songbird” Isiah says finally looking into Ruby’s brown eyes.

If he could have burned the way Ruby’s face looked under the moonlight into his eyes it wouldn’t even cross his mind to say no. 

He lets out a soft sigh before turning over and falling asleep the same way he had for the past decade.

Being so close yet so far from the women he would give anything to spend the rest of his life with.

It was killing Ruby inside to not just turn over and embrace him like a lover. So instead she just turned away from Isiah and forced herself to sleep.

Ruby was the first to wake up.

Seeing Isiah’s brown skin under the morning sunlight shining through the white curtains was a sight she’d pay all the money in the world to see.

It was the most calm she had ever seen Isiah and it was killing her to remember that he wasn’t her’s to have and to hold. 

Wasn’t her’s to love and cherish with all her heart, to kiss awake, to always share moments like this with.

Before she could let herself fall to deeply in her imagination of a perfect life, Ruby hoped out of bed and readjusted her nightgown.

She took one last look at a sleeping Isiah before walking out of the room and into her bathroom to freshen up. 

It didn’t take long for her to be ready and head down to the kitchen for some tea and breakfast. 

But before she could get started a certain tune wouldn’t leave her head. The same part just played over and over until finally realized it was from her favorite song on the record Isiah had bought her. 

She raced into her living room and to the record player holder sitting on the floor next to the record player.

Ruby had pulled out the record that helped her through the hardest times of her life and placed it on the player. 

As the notes started to play she lightly danced into the kitchen and turned on the stove burner. 

Right as she sat down after putting the kettle on the stove top she heard a ruckus near her front door. She looked over to find a shirtless isiah doing his best to leave unnoticed. 

“You were always shit at trying to leave quietly you know...” Ruby’s morning voiced made every hair on Isiah’s body stand on end.

He turned around feeling a new sense of embarrassment he never felt before.

“I’m sorry I just thought.....Honestly I wasn’t really thinking...”  Isiah says walking up and taking the seat in front of Ruby. 

“Morning Tea?” Ruby asks gesturing towards the brewing pot on the stove. 

“I’d never say no to tea from you Ruby” Isiah says before the two settled into a comfortable silence as they listened to the record playing in the background. 

It’s not long before the kettle is letting out a loud whistle and Ruby makes quick work of making her and Isiah cups of tea. 

As they sipped on their drinks a question kept passing through Ruby’s head. Before she knew it the question had flew out of her mouth. 

“How are you feeling?” 

A small smile had settled on Isiah’s lips before answering with “Better I guess...but it’s nothing I haven’t been through before..”

“Thank you Ruby... I really wish I could pay you back somehow” 

“You’re welcome Isiah, but you living is payment enough..” Ruby says before taking the last sip in her cup.

“But having you around for a little longer wouldn’t hurt” Ruby let’s out not looking at Isiah. 

“Do you wish for me to stay?” Isiah asks praying for her to say yes.

“Would you like to stay?” Ruby asked finally looking Isiah in the eye.

Isiah lifted the tea to his lips and taking a couple sips before saying “Then stay i will” 

And stay he did, for a whole week the two lived a nice life with each other until it seemed impossible for both of them to stay just platonic with each other.

The close proximity and privacy to the other was becoming all to much for the other to resist their urges.

And it all came crashing down one monday afternoon when Ruby came home from her day job.

“Ruby we need to...we need to have a talk” Was the first thing that came out of Isiah’s mouth when she had set her bag down and took her shoes off. 

A deep feeling of uneasiness settled within the pit of Ruby’s chest as she walked into the kitchen where Isiah was standing and looking out the kitchen window.

“About what?” Ruby asked nervously taking a seat at the kitchen table. 

“About um...about us and how I just....” Before he continued Isiah finally turned around and took a moment before taking the seat across from Ruby.

He took a deep breath before continuing. 

“Ruby I’m more than thankful for you allowing me to stay for so long but I think that it’s time I take my leave”

It took a moment for Ruby to realize what Isiah had just said.

“You can’t....I’m sorry i didn’t mean it like that I just....I just don’t understand where this is coming from-”

“I’m doing well and I know you wish to have your bed back all to yourself so I think I’ll just....”

Ruby followed close behind as Isiah got up from his seat and started walking to the front door.

But before he had the chance to reach for the doorknob Ruby had reached for his shoulder and turned him around. 

“Don’t you dare walk out that door Isiah” 

“Why shouldn’t I? You’ve got your life here and all I’ve done is intrude and disrupt it”

“Is that what you really think- Isiah....why do you think my bed is only soft on one side....you have made these years of loneliness worth it..I want you to stay...” 

Ruby looked into Isiah’s eyes praying for a sign of him wanting, no needing to stay. But after what felt like an eternity of searching she couldn’t find an ounce of it. 

“But you can’t....”

“I’m sorry Ruby-”

“Why? Why can’t you just stay here with me?”

“Because I just...it’s to perfect Ruby-”

“What? Me admitting that I’m falling for you and want you to stay is too perfect” Ruby said 

“YES RUBY...it is because how could I expect for the Ruby shelby to ever even think to fall for me? Hm? The girl with eyes filled with stars and the voice of an angel”

“When there are millions of other boy’s who fawn over you everyday and could give you a life full of happiness. How could you even think to even look at me-”

“They aren’t you Isiah....I could search to edge of the earth and never find a man like you...” Ruby reached her hands out to cup the sides of Isiahs face.

“Even though it took me far too long to realize... my heart has always been yours Isiah Jesus...”

For a moment Isiah thought he was dreaming but the feeling of ruby’s soft hands against his cheeks was far to real.

And finally Isiah had let the space between their lips disappear. 

It took only a handful of seconds for Ruby to react. The years of both yearning for the other had finally come to an end. 

Their hands found perfect placements on each other. They had only pulled away to indulge in the others beauty and to catch their breaths. 

Before they could continue Thomas just had to knock on the front door.

 Ruby and Isiah pulled away from each other with lightning speed. They didn’t realize how disheveled they looked until they tried fixing their messy appearances. 

Ruby took a deep breath before turning to open the door.

The second thomas had a clear view of the two he already knew what had happened between the two. 

A small sigh flew out of Thomas mouth as he rubbed his hand over his face.

“Ruby...please head up to your bedroom I need to have a conversation with Isaiah” 

“Thomas please don’t-“

“I’m not gonna hurt him or tell….just step outside” Thomas all to calm voice fills the room.

Ruby gave Isiah one last look and quick peck before heading upstairs .

The second they heard the door close Isiah started talking.

“I swear to you Tommy I didn’t force her into anything and I only wish to-”

“Stop it Isiah...there’s nothing to prove....honestly I’m glad you two have finally beaten the others pride...been waiting damn near a decade for it...”

“Just treat her well Isiah...I’m sure that won’t be hard for you” 

“But If you break her heart in any way, let’s just say they’ll never find your body” Thomas says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Understood, Mr. Shelby” Isiah says as Thomas walks to the foot of the stairs before yelling for Ruby. 

Ruby came down the steps ready to fight Thomas for anything bad he dare to say to Isiah. 

“Calm down Ruby I was just about to take my leave” Thomas says feeling her anger. 

“Oh.....see you around Thomas” Ruby says before interlocking her hand with Isiah’s making his face heat up.

“Have a good day you two” Thomas says before walking out the door. 

Right when Thomas closed the door Ruby wasted no time before pulling Isiah in for a heated kiss. 

Isiah pulled away to breath and in doing so let out a small laugh as he pulled Ruby closer to him.

“What’s so funny?” Ruby ask a smile on her face.

“Nothing just...I can’t wait to marry you one day” Isiah says before pulling her in for another kiss. 

[thewritersaddictions]

Thomas Shelby: Sparkling White

Pairing: Thomas (Tommy) Shelby x Fem!Reader

Pov: Thomas (Tommy) Shelby

Warnings: Crying, Inner dialogue, Wedding.

Summary: Marrying the reader was never in the cards for Tommy, but something about the way she looks walking down the aisle makes him realize more than a few things.

WC-892

A/n: @firefly-graphics for dividers

Tag List Form

Peaky Blinders Master List

The Shelbys Master List

Never in my life did I think I was going to be with another girl. I'd only ever thought that I would do the family right, and serve as a great leader. Never thought I’d find a girl and marry her. But I did, and I’m proud of myself for it. I know Polly is excited to have another lady around the house. That was the other thing I was worried about. 

I didn’t just wanna bring any old girly into the Shelby family and Shelby business. I wanted a women, one that would stand up for herself, me and hopefully the Shelby family name. Polly was grateful when Y/n and her meet. Polly was smoking in my office when Y/n and I came back from touring a bit of London. 

Polly have me a questioning look. She knew that I had a rule to never mix pleasure with business, so for her it was odd to see a young, attractive lady beside me. Polly brought the cig to her mouth and took a short drag before starting her line of questions. “So what’s her name?” She asked me, Y/n looked up from looking around me office.

“If you plan to ask questions about me. I’d suggest you ask me directly.” Y/n said matter-of-factly. Polly laughed, and took another longer drag of her cog before patting me on my shoulder and walking out of the office. I looked at Y/n from my desk chair and beckoned her to come closer. 

She swayed her hips, and walked over to my desk. Taking advantage of the low top and hoping on. “You know most people don’t talk to Polly like that.” I commented. Y/n rolled her eyes, “Most people aren’t me.” She assured me.  She was pretty sitting just slightly above me. Her face was so sweet like honey. Everything abou Y/n was prefect, and if look could kill damn I’d be dead by now. 

Polly grew to love her after her first met with Y/n. They got together greatly actually. Polly had another women in the house, and they shopped, smoked, and Y/n slowly became apart of the shelby family in the way that I never imagined she would. John, Ada, and Arthur loved having her around, someone who wound’t let me dish out shit without of course getting shit back. She was the sister that Ada always wished for, and the niece that Polly always hoped for. Y/n was everything that the Shelby needed.

Now here we are. Just a years later. Ada, John and Arthur and every other living family, and even business partner was sitting in the chapel. The only way Y/n said that she would marry me is if we did it the proper way. It wasn’t a big thing, you know to be married in a church like my mum and pop had done so long ago. 

So again here we stood in the white chapel. It didn’t take long for the organ to  start playing. And the doors at the entrance of the chapel opened. There she was. Dressed in a beautiful white skin tight dress. It went down to the floor, with a long trail behind her.  Polly had been  asked by Y/n if she could walk her down the aisle. With her father and mother being long gone. Polly was more then excited. Her time as an aunt and a mother in just the past few years she was more then opened to walking her down and straight to me. 

She kept her head down as they walked down. Ada had been our something that Y/n had suggested. A flower girl, and Ada’s inner child cou;dn’t resist the urge of throwing flowers all over the place. I watched as she got closer to me, closer together. Her bouget in her hands. Even today a day of peace and love there of course had to be a mix of pleasure and business. So after we said our “I do’s” we sat down for our wedding dinner Y/n stoof up her gown falling down where it had crumped itself. 

“I know how the Shelby family works, and all of you business partners. This is my wedding. This is a Shelby wedding and it won’t be tainted by the disgrace of talking business and fighting. Nobody will be ruining my wonderful white wedding dress with shooting and arguing. If you have busniess to discuss then…. Polly. Go to polly Mr and Mrs Shelby will be out.” Y/n annouced to everyone as the dinner. I laughed as i watched the frowns on the mens face grow in the seconds. Polly just grinned and went back to chatting.

Y/n sat back down and looked over at me. Her hand resting under her chin. “I’m sorry, but I know events can get Tommy, and honestly this dress I’d like to keep white,” Y/n said. I rested my hand on her thigh. “Darling, you’re a Shelby now. This kingdom is much mine as it is yours. If you want today to be fight free, and blood free then Mrs. Shelby shall have whatever she wishes. “ I said winking before just basking in the warm glow that surrounded her. Kissing Y/n on her cheek.

Posted on: 07/27/22

Completed on: 07/27/22

The Shelbys-

[sunmoonandeddie]

feelings are fatal (24/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 1,137

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, funeral

masterlist

a/n: Damn. So this is it, the end of FAF. So many of you have stuck with me through when this fic started (literally almost exactly two years ago) and have been waiting for me to get the motivation to finish it. This is the fic that first got people to notice me, to give my writing a chance. I love you guys so, so much. Thanks for being on this journey with me. I hope I lived up to your expectations.

“Jamie!” You called out as you hung up another shirt, looking around the room. The coat of paint you’d slathered on the walls the day before looked good. Really good.

You two had decided to do most of the decorating yourselves, instead of hiring a company. You wanted your home to be entirely you and your family. Bucky and you had ‘bought’ the Stark family cabin off of Pepper, wanting to make it your permanent home. But Pepper never stayed there, finding it too difficult with all the memories she had of Tony there. She didn’t want to drown in the sorrow of losing her husband.

“Yes, malen’kaya?” He called out as he carried in another few boxes. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his concern, even though you had been completely safe and sound in the cabin.

Especially considering the new state of the art security system.

“I’m okay,” you insisted as he appeared in the doorway, setting the boxes off to the side. “It’s just been at least thirty minutes since you last kissed me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, even though the pink that dusted his cheeks said he was anything but put out by your neediness for his affections. “Oh, yeah? What do I get if I give you kisses?”

You’d be lying if you said you hated how mushy gushy of a couple you two were.

But in all honesty, it was addicting. Being so affectionate and loving with each other even after two years felt like a feat. People kept telling you that you’d come out of the honeymoon phase eventually (everyone except your little makeshift family, of course) and you just kept proving them wrong.

The honeymoon phase never ended if you didn’t let it.

Sure, you two had little disagreements every once in a while. You were both human. But you weren’t having big blowout fights like people made it sound would happen.

“Well… I’ll do that thing you’ve been wanting to try,” you said, letting your voice drop to be deep and sultry as you took a few steps closer to him. You let your fingers trail up your chest as you bit your lip, slowly looking him up and down.

You knew just how to play your boyfriend, how to get him hot and needy for him.

Not that it took much.

Sometimes you just looked at him or asked him if he wanted chocolate chips in his pancakes or not, and he was ready to jump you.

Not that you minded at all.

Bucky’s brows slowly moved closer to his hairline. “You mean… the thing… Number seventy-two?” He asked quietly, his hands moving to your hips.

“Number seventy-two,” you said with a definitive nod.

He brought you in for a deep, earth-shattering kiss. “Don’t mind if I do,” he growled against your lips. “That damn list was the best idea we’ve ever fucking had.”

Ah, yes. The list. The list of things you two wanted to try in bed that you’d compiled and kept adding to.

There’d been some definite winners, including semi-public sex and roleplaying (turns out Bucky really enjoyed playing dress up with you.) But there’d also been some definite losers, such as cockwarming (though that had only failed because James Buchanan Barnes did not have the willpower to have his cock inside of you and not move.)

“But… There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” he said softly as he kissed down your neck. “Something important…”

A moan fell from your lips as you let your head fall back. “Mmm… Are you wanting to talk about the fact that you’re very happy to see me?” You asked teasingly as you felt something hard—most likely an erection—pressed against your thigh. You were already reaching to yank off his shirt.

“Not quite… though maybe after,” he said softly, pulling back. He looked… tense.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly as you cupped his face. “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”

“There’s nothing wrong. I’m just nervous,” he said quietly, letting out a weak laugh.

Your head tilted to the side. “Nervous? Jamie, you know you never have to be nervous with me…”

Your heart stopped inside your chest as you watched him sink to the floor on one knee, reaching into his pocket. “Malen’kaya,” he whispered as he looked up at you with sparkling blue eyes. “You know how much I love you. Or at least, I hope you do considering how often I tell you… how often I try my best to show you. And I’ve known that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you since we were on the run.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, under different circumstances, us hopping from country to country could’ve been really romantic.”

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again,” you said with a snort, tears welling up in your eyes. “This time without me dating another man.”

“That does sound like a good plan,” he said, eyes bright. He slowly opened up the black velvet ring box, revealing a glistening diamond ring. “Will you—”

“YES!” You shouted, throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him over and over again. You knocked him over with the strength of your kisses, moaning as you straddled him. “Yes, yes, I will marry you.” Grinning against his lips, you blindly reached for the ring. “You wanna go right now? Find a little chapel? Or maybe straight to the courthouse. Just wanna be yours.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss as he somehow managed to slip the ring onto your left ring finger, before intertwining your fingers and squeezing. “You know if we elope, Pepper and everyone else will throw a fit.”

“We don’t gotta tell them we’re already married. We can have a wedding and just pretend that we were patient enough to wait,” you insisted with a smirk, kissing down his neck as you worked at tugging his shirt off. “I just don’t wanna waste anymore time not being Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes.”

Your fiancé let out a deep moan at the thought, his head falling back as his vibranium hand squeezed your ass. “I didn’t know that a marriage kink was a thing, but I think we might need to add it to the list,” he said.

“I love you,” you murmured as you finally sunk onto his length, the diamond reflecting beautifully in the early winter sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“I love you, too, malen’kaya,” he said, lips trying to catch one of your nipples. He finally succeeded, giving it a teasing bite before he grinned up at you, laughter in his eyes. “Though… I do gotta ask. What the fuck is up with us fucking on the floor of this cabin?”

[harryhoney-bee]

Babymoon

Summary: Harry spent the day with his three years old, but he also loves coming home to his baby mama.

Dad!h <3

word count: 1.3k

Thank you to my friend @harrystyles-tpwk for the inspiration!!

There were a lot of things Harry cherished about fatherhood: watching a little human growing, being the main safe space to someone, guiding their little love throughout life and so much more.

One thing he didn't realize until now is how kids can be little connectors to the parent's own childhood, the experiences children go through also unlock memories in the parents.

When y/n and harry decided to have a babymoon with their little family the man couldn't help but pick Holmes Chapel, they would only be in the little city for a week, traveling to France to spend the next of their vacation there.

But even with the small number of days, Harry was determined to enjoy his time with his two little loves, well, three if you count the 6-month baby in Y/n's belly. Lorenzo was his name, picked by his big sister Cecília, a sweet 3-year-old.

Y/n would describe what she thought he would look like every time before bed, she said she wanted one with the exact same eye color as hers since Cecília got his beautiful green eyes. Harry pictures Lorenzo as y/n carbon copy but with Harry's hair.

They would spend hours imagining the unborn baby and just looking at their already-made toddler. Whenever Cecília was sleeping, the couple would be tracing every line of her face, from her forehead to her chin, mesmerized by what their love had created.

Harry always wanted kids, there was no surprise by that, in the family's barbecues, he could be found playing with his little cousins. While walking in parks he would make silly faces to the children passing by.

He always knew he was supposed to be a parent, a lot of people had calls in life, Harry’s was to create better humans for the world along with y/n, a partner who happily shared his same desires with him.

"The world it's so full of people who didn't grow up with love, I’m sure it would be a better place with everyone had their attention and necessities fulfilled, and I know it's silly, but I think raising a kid it's one of the best things you can do to create a better society," Y/n said in one of their first conversations about if they would ever want kids as a couple.

"They are just small little souls, small pieces of love, there is something so beautiful about that," she continued, with so much tenderness in her eyes.

Needless to say that Harry fell more in love with her that day, proposing to her a year after.

Even though the couple was eager to have their little love soon, they also wanted to enjoy their time as a couple doing things such as traveling and creating memories only with the two of them.

Cecília came almost three years later, she was an oopsie baby, for Harry and y/n surprise. Lorenzo, however, was planned. The baby was gonna have three years and a half age cap with his sister, the couple wanted it to be less, but they struggled to get pregnant for a while.

But now y/n showing a beautiful round belly, Harry couldn't get enough of it, kissing and talking to his baby boy every time.

Even though Harry loves having time together with the whole family, he also knows the importance of having one on one time, especially now that the family dynamics were slowly changing to receive the new baby.

So that's the reason he and Cecília are spending the afternoon together in Holmes Chapel’s downtown. Cecí was sitting in front of him eating a chocolate cupcake (y/n doesn't like for her to eat that much sugar, but Harry let her since it's only for today).

"Did you know this was my favorite treat when I was a kid too, sweetheart? Harry said, eating the same cupcakes as her, "this was the same bakery I used to work at, too."

"Really daddy? Here?" Cecília asked, looking at her dad in wonder, her small hand around the small cake.

"Yeah, fun isn't it?"

"Yes, I wanna be a baker when I grow up," she said, smiling at him.

"Well, I’m sure you gonna be the best baker in this whole world," no matter how much she looked like Harry, the smile Cecília had was always totally from her mother.

"What about we go walk in the park for a bit? Do you want that?" Harry asked, they were almost finished, and the weather was perfect for an afternoon in nature.

When she was done harry was ready to leave, but her small hangs tugged at Harry's shirt, "Daddy, I wanna bring a cake to mommy and baby brother"

Harry looked down at her, taking her in his arms, "You are such a caring girl! Let's get mommy a cupcake then."

"And baby Lorenzo too, daddy!" She pouted

"He's still in mommy's tummy, Cecí, he doesn't eat like us," he tried to explain, while pointing at the different cupcakes on the counter, "what about this one? She loves strawberries!"

"This one daddy! This one!" She peeped

They ended up buying three, one for Anne and Gemma as well since they were staying at their house for the week. Cecília looked happier buying the cupcake for the other than when she was eating one, little-loving baby.

The walk in the park was amazing. Cecília fed the duck and played on the playground, she would also twirl her summer dress whenever she got the chance. Harry also showed her one treehouse he built when he was younger, the little girl was thrilled to see it.

When it was time to come Harry placed her baby seat, both of them singing Queen, when they finally got home Cecília made grabby hands to Harry, who bent down to talk to her.

"Daddy, you tell mommy I bought the cupcake, ok?"

Harry laughed, holding her on his hips while the other held the bakery's package, "Of course, Cecí, you were the one who picked them anyways."

When Harry opened the door and saw his beautiful wife laying down on the couch, feet up because her ankles were really swollen lately. She was watching Mamma Mia, her favorite movie.

"Mommy, mommy!" Cecília yelled, Harry put her down on the floor and gave the bakery package in her hands, "close your eyes, I have a surprise for you."

Y/n closed her eyes, a beautiful smile on her face, one of her hands resting on her bump, "what is it, Cecí?"

Cecília stood right in front of her on the couch, "open mommy."

The woman opened her eyes, being with three cupcakes and a smiling girl, "did you bring this to mommy, baby?" She asked while putting Cecília to sit by her side, "you are so kind, thank you, my love."

Harry got close to the two girls, putting Cecí on his lap and giving y/n a kiss on the lips, "how are you? Is the little guy being good to you?" He asked.

"I threw up three times today, but I'm better now, I just wish this heartburn would stop."

"Baby is being bad, mommy?" Ceci asked, worry on her small face.

"No, love, Lorenzo is a very nice baby, mommy just doesn’t feel good right now."

"I'm gonna make some tea for you, my love," Harry said, kissing her forehead and leaving the living room, only the sounds of the tv and his two girls being heard.

He made tea and three bowls of fruit for them, but when he came back to the couch he was met with Y/n and Cecí sleeping. The small girl with her head on her mother's chest and y/n's hand on her little back.

Harry placed the bowls on the table, taking a duvet and putting on them. He just couldn't wait for Lorenzo to arrive, so they can all be together.

He loved his little family more than anything in the world.

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