#going unhinged over the lil' boots

[canisalbus]

Alright.

.

[itgetsdark-x]

Something In Your Mouth

Summary: what’s a little night out if not for a bit of teasing fun with your dad’s best-friend?

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of alcohol, age gap (Joel’s age unspecified), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!!), edging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm (kinda), use of good girl etc, mild humiliation / degrading. idk i feel a lil unhinged with this one besties.

Characters: dbf!joel miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.3k

You pressed your glossy lips together to ensure that the hot pink covered every area of your pout and you smiled at your friend in the reflection of your bedroom mirror. 

“Girl, I’m telling you… Tonight is the night that I finally fuck Joel Miller.” You smirked, taking the bottle from your friend, Sasha’s hands and taking a long swig of the warming liquor.

“Ha! Yeah right… Are we on about the same Joel Miller here? Your dad’s friend, the single father himself and what’s that? Oh yeah, he’s ancient, old enough to be your own dad! He won’t touch you, jailbait, give up.” She laughed again as your flipped her off.

“Sash, I am in my mid-twenties, closer to thirty than I am twenty. Not to mention, I’m hot okay?! There are worse women Joel could sleep with. I’m just saying… I think it’s a good idea. I just get big dick energy from him y’know? I mean, have you seen his hands?! His fingers. I actually feel like if I don’t have him soon, I’m gonna go legally insane.” You huffed.

Sasha shook her head as you stood from your bed to get changed. You flung your comfy t-shirt and shorts into your friend’s direction and grabbed the outfit you had hung on your door. Tonight’s attire was an ensemble of a black leather skirt, hot pink tank top and your trusty platform Doc Marten boots.

“Be fucking real right now, that is not your underwear of choice for the evening!” Sasha all but screeched as she caught a glimpse of your undergarments as you began changing your outfit.

“What?!” You asked with feign innocence.

“You’re wearing a hot pink thong with matching bra. Please tell me this is not for Miller.” She sighed with exasperation, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe it is… but hey, if Joel doesn’t want some tonight I’m sure some other lucky guy will appreciate the efforts I have gone to.” You shrugged, winking at your friend. “Now, how ‘bout you quit your judging and get changed so we can get to the bar! The girls are meeting us there.”

Sasha groaned with effort as she stood and joined you in getting changed.

———

The bar was busy, you were meeting your friends there to celebrate your upcoming birthday which meant your father was going to be there and in turn, so was Joel. You weren’t a complete idiot, you knew that trying to get with Joel was a huge risk for you both; if your father ever found out, you would most likely be forbidden to ever leave your apartment ever again and well, you couldn’t even imagine what your dad would do to Joel.

Which also meant you had to be calculated with how you went about it; no blatant flirting or teasing in front of your dad, you had to play your cards right, keep them close to your chest.

As soon as you and Sasha arrived into the dimly lit bar, your friends herded over to you and enveloped you in a big hug. You squealed with delight and greeted them all individually before your dad walked over, with the older Miller in tow close behind.

“There’s my princess, happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Your dad beamed, hugging you and kissing your temple.

“Thanks dad, and thanks for actually showing up! I know hanging out with us girls isn’t at the top of your Friday night agenda. Same for you Joel, thanks for coming.” You smiled bashfully at him before he closed the space between you both and gave you a quick squeeze.

Your head span and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest, his heady cologne drowning your senses and driving you mad. It was an immediate effect and you couldn’t stop the way your core throbbed at the contact.

“Gotcha a drink darlin’. Happy early birthday.” He flashed a smile in your direction and gave you a glass filled with amber-coloured liquid. “Yes, it’s our favourite. Southern Comfort and lemonade.”

You grinned at him and took a swig of the drink gratefully, just as you turned to talk to your father again, you were almost certain you could feel Joel’s eyes raking over your body with hunger.

———

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed and the laughter grew rowdier and louder as the music in the bar was turned up. You were dancing with a couple of your friends, every now and then your eyes would catch Joel’s; he sat at the bar talking to your dad and nursing his whiskey.

“Sash, did you see the way he keeps looking at me? And earlier? Please tell me you saw that!” You whined.

“Ugh. God. I hate to feed your delusions but I did see it and I see it now. Even with your back turned, he’s watching you. Fuckin’ weird and intense, it’s like a predator with his prey. Waiting to strike.” She huffed, voice just loud enough for you to catch over the pop music playing.

“Okay… But why is that hot as fuck?” You laughed, throwing your head back as your danced. “I just need my dad to clear off, I love him but I can’t hit on his friend when he right there. That would be weird.”

You carried on dancing, with your friends and even with a couple of men when they tried it; you couldn’t help but notice the way Joel’s stare seemed to intensify when any man came near you, it made you smile to know that he was watching you.

One particular man caught your attention, he was similar to you in age, as far as you assumed and he was handsome, definitely easy on the eyes but nowhere near anywhere as good as Joel. He smirked at you from the bar and closed the distance between you until his hand was on your hip and he was dancing with you. You smiled sweetly at him, peering up at him through your lashes as you brought your thumb up to your glossy lips to suck on it seductively. You flashed a glance over to Joel who looked like he was ready to kill. 

Bingo. You thought to yourself and danced with the handsome male in front of you, the music boomed and you swayed your hips against him, you span yourself around so you could press your ass to his crotch and you smirked over at Joel once again who was now alone at the bar. Your fingers clutched your glass as you wrapped your lips around the thin, red straw and sucked up the cool drink. 

Joel quirked a brow at you, with a look that you couldn’t quite place, it seemed to settle somewhere between lust and utter disdain for you. You gave him a little wave and turned back to face the man you were dancing with, you looped your arms loosely around his neck and continued to dance along to the loud music. 

The nameless man leant down and whispered into your ear, the music distorted his voice but he said something about leaving with him which caused you to giggle. You got up onto your tiptoes to whisper back into his ear but felt a foreign hand pressed against the small of your back. The guy you were just dancing with backed away with his hands held up in innocence. 

“Hey!” You turned around with a deep frown. “Oh… hey, Joel.” You smiled.

“Your daddy left a little while ago, he saw you dancing and didn’t want to… disturb since you seemed busy…” He scoffed. 

“Well I was a lil busy, and now he’s gone. Whatcha want?” You huffed. 

“Don’t fuck around, little girl. We both know what you’re playin’ at.” 

“What?!” You asked with feigned innocence.

“Darlin’” he warned lowly in your ear, his voice sending shivers through you. “You’re out here, shakin’ your ass for everyone.”

“And? Last time I checked, I’m single, of age and having a bit of fun. Is that not allowed, Mr Miller? Not even on my birthday?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, this fake-innocence crap wasn’t getting anywhere with him and he knew you were doing it to get a reaction from him. 

“You’re being a little tease, darlin’ and I think you know it.” He growled, his voice low in your ear. 

You swallowed roughly, even with the drinks you had, your mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry with nerves. You shook your head to Joel and he just chuckled. 

“No, no… You know what you’re doing, I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all night and well, congrats. You’ve got my attention. So what now? What do you want, hm?” He asked, leaning back to gauge your reaction. 

“I — I, I want -“ You stumbled over your words dumbly, without a coherent sentence forming. 

“Hm?” He hummed, he took your hand and trailed it down his hard chest, down his stomach and let it graze across his crotch. 

Even with barely touching him, you could feel the hard length of his cock through the rough material of his worn jeans. You pushed your legs together in the vain hope of staving off the throbbing between them, you could feel your panties get slick as you imagined sinking to your knees and sucking Joel. 

“Funny, you seemed to be playing the big girl earlier, princess. Dancing with anyone, swinging your ass and hips for them. What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue now?” He smirked, his voice a soft coo in your ear. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, unceremoniously and immediately, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean, I uh — ignore me. I’m gonna go find my friends.” You muttered. 

Joel shook his head and held onto your elbow roughly. “Come home with me then, darlin’. My truck is parked out back.”

“You’ve been drinking, I’ve had some drinks. One, I don’t wanna die in your rust-bucket truck and two, this is stupid. I’m being stupid.” You spoke quickly. 

“Firstly, I’m gonna ignore you just called my truck a rust-bucket, that’s a whole other conversation and two, I’ve had two drinks, perfectly fine to drive. And as long as you’re sober enough to consent, and you do wanna do this. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe just don’t tell your daddy.” He laughed. 

You nodded dumbly, words failing you once again and let yourself be led out of the bar by Joel; you briefly shot a look behind you and for a second, you caught eyes with Sasha who just smirked at you as you left. 

—

Joel opened the truck door for you to climb in, you grabbed the handle on the side and hauled yourself in; knowing your skirt would rise and give Joel a quick glimpse of your skimpy fabric. 

Joel had to all but bite back a groan as he saw the flash hot pink, the curve of your ass just enveloping the lace as you sat down. 

“Fucking hell.” He cursed as he closed the door to his truck and went to the drivers side. “You really are a naughty little tease, aren’t you?” He laughed. 

You shrugged at him with a sheepish smile; in truth you weren’t always this bad but tonight it got you exactly what you wanted and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Joel started his truck and within seconds of driving down the road, you reached your hand across the bench to palm at his cock; your delicate fingers wrapped around his half hard length through his jeans and you couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. 

He felt thick, even when only half hard and your mouth watered at the thought of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat. 

“Impatient much?” Joel laughed, flashing a quick smirk in your direction. 

“I need to taste you, like, immediately.” You hummed, you knew it sounded cringey and cliche but you needed it more than you could comprehend. 

“Maybe let’s wait until we are back at mine — fuck —.” Joel cursed as your fingers quickly undid his jeans and dipped into the waistband of his boxers, albeit a little awkwardly. 

“I’m sat here, and I’m wet. I’m talking, on the verge of dripping onto my thighs. I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted a man before so… how about you let me get you warmed up so when we get back to yours, you can have your way with me.” You reasoned, your voice blunt. 

Joel couldn’t argue with that reasoning so he gently lifted his ass off the seat to allow you easier access to pull his thick cock out from his boxers. Your fingers expertly wrapped around his length and you marvelled at the fact your finger tips barely met. You stroked his shaft a few times as you felt him fully harden under your touch. 

You couldn’t help but giggle; it was immature and girlish but in this moment, you felt giddy. You awkwardly repositioned yourself so you could duck your head down and suck the tip of his cock into your wet mouth. 

Joel’s fingers tensed on his steering wheel, you could hear the squeak of the leather protest under his grasp as you wrapped your mouth around the male fully and sank your head down, enveloping him further. 

You kept a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and bobbed your head slowly, a soft moan being muffled by the fullness in your mouth. 

Above you, Joel groaned deeply as your tongue swirled around the tip and you grazed your teeth gently against his frenulum. 

“Oh fuck!” Joel cursed out, one hand coming down to grip into your hair tightly; he couldn’t help the way his hand pushed your head down further. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.” He praised, brushing some hair away so he could catch a better glimpse of the sight below him. 

You hummed in appreciation as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in perfect synchronicity with your skilled mouth. You removed Joel’s cock with a loud pop and you smirked at the male. You moved to kiss at his neck and your teeth grazed over his ear. 

“Tastes better than any sucker I’ve ever had.” You purred, your voice low and sultry. 

“You’re trouble.” Joel stated with a soft groan as your lips continued to kiss down his neck and your head travelled down south once more. “But you look so much cuter with something in your mouth, that’s its princess.” He cooed as your mouth sank around his cock once more. 

The drive back to Joel’s was a short one, even if he did contemplate driving around the block a couple more times just so he could feel your mouth around him for longer. 

Joel pulled into his drive, by this point you were sat up right and running a thumb along your bottom lip to tidy up your lip gloss. Joel tucked himself back into his jeans haphazardly before turning off the ignition to his truck. 

“Inside, quickly. I don’t need the neighbours seeing me bringing you home. You know how rumours spread ‘round here.” He mumbled and it was true, most people knew Joel and they in turn, knew your father. You could almost heard the whispers that would spread around this part of town if they caught wind of what you were doing with Joel. 

You hopped out his truck and walked to his front door ahead of him, making sure to keep a clear distance from the older male; no matter how hard your fingers were itching to explore his body. 

Joel held onto the small of your back as he quickly unlocked his front door and ushered you into the familiar space. 

“Upstairs. You know where my room is.” He stated bluntly as he removed his boots. 

You nodded without another word and silently went up the stairs; you may have been playing the confident card in the truck but now that you were here, now that you were in his house, your hands were shaking with nerves and anticipation. 

Joel entered the room a mere few seconds later and he smiled at you. 

“So you’re not that much of a little brat that you can follow basic instructions.” He cooed. 

You nodded, biting on your lip as you watched Joel effortlessly remove his t-shirt. Just as you pictured it; his chest was tanned and peppered with soft white hair. Further down his stomach as a groomed line of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband. 

“What’s the matter, little girl? Not so brave now?” He smirked, closing the distance between you to hold your chin roughly between his finger and thumb. 

He ducked his head down and kissed you roughly; it was an unceremonious clash of tongues as you kissed him back with intense fervour. 

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered against your lips and let go of your face. “Take off your clothes. Leave on your underwear, I wanna be the one to remove that from you.” He commanded, kicking off his own jeans and sitting on the edge of his bed. 

You suddenly felt self conscious, you could feel the burn of his gaze as you stood in front of him. You turned your back to him as you slowly undid the zip on your skirt and bent down to remove it. 

Behind you, Joel had pulled his cock from his boxers and was stroking himself as you removed your clothes. Once your shirt was removed, you span back round to face the male and gently crossed your legs as you watched him. 

“Fucking look at you.” He groaned, as his cock gently fucked into his fist. “Thought about your body so many times, knew I shouldn’t. Knew it was wrong but look at you, c’mhere.” He mumbled.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his confession; it soothed your nerves as you realised the attraction was mutual between you both. Joel sat back a little and tapped his lap; you got the idea quickly and straddled him. 

You cock feel his swollen cock rub against your clothes heat and you whined weakly at the contact. 

“Please don’t tease me.” You whispered, looping your arms around his neck as Joel’s hands settled onto your soft hips. 

“‘M not gonna tease you…” he smirked, his eyes lit with mischievous intent. “But I bet you could cum just from rubbing yourself on my cock. Since you seemed to want it so bad at the bar, trying to get my attention. Well guess what, little girl, you got it. Now keep it.” He hummed. 

“Joel —“ you protested, to which he raised a brow at you in question. 

You pushed your hips forward so the tip of Joel’s cock nudged your damp panties, it nudged your clit and you gasp as you began to rut your hips back and forth. 

“Such a needy little girl, aren’t you? So needy for your daddy’s best friend that you’ll rub against his cock like a good little bitch.” He cooed, holding your cheek tenderly as his condescending words fuelled your hips to move faster. 

“Not enough.” You whimpered, your hands scratching at Joel’s back for more leverage. “Need you in me, please. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirked and pressed two digits into your mouth without warning; you quickly sucked them in, your tongue swirled around them until they were coated with your saliva. 

“Is that what you mean, princess? My fingers are inside of you.”

You shook your head no as your hips moved desperately, the hot pink fabric of your lace thong was ruined; it was dark in colour as your arousal soaked the fabric. 

“Then what is it you mean? Tell me what you want.” Joel said quietly, removing his fingers from your mouth. A long ling of spittle keeping you connected to the older male. 

“Need your fingers in my pussy; need to feel them inside of me as I cum. P-please.” You whined, your voice sounded wrecked already as your hips stuttered against Joel’s cock. 

Joel dipped his fingers into the front of your lace panties, they were slick from your spit and they glided through your wetness with ease. 

He let out a moan as he felt your wetness soak his fingers further; his fingers circled around your clit with skill and your mouth fell agape with intense pleasure. 

You screwed your eyes shut as his fingers sped up to rub over your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, good girl. So wet for me, aren’t you? This all for me?” He hummed. 

You nodded, as your back arched away from the man so he could gain better access to your front. Joel continued to speed his fingers up; he watched your every movement; every heave of your chest, every gasp or twitch of your arm and he knew you were getting close. 

“Tell me when you’re going to cum.” Joel whispered, dropping his head down to kiss at your bra-clad chest. 

“I’m close, Joel. So fucking close.” You whimpered, you were barely making a noise. 

“That’s it, atta a girl.” Joel praised. 

“I — I’m gonna, I’m gonna, fuck!” You screeched, the raw noise ripping from your throat as Joel removed his fingers from your panties at precisely the wrong moment. 

He smirked at you, his mannerism teasing and cruel. 

“What the fuck?” You squeaked, your eyes wide and your chest still heaving. 

“Well I didn’t say you were going to cum, did I?” Joel stated. 

“Please.” You pleaded, your eyes searching for mercy in him. 

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Joel whispered, tapping your ass gently. 

You felt dumb, your body was tingling all over from the overstimulation and lack of orgasm and you moved without knowing how you were doing it. You laid down onto Joel’s bed, your back resting up against his pillows. 

It took everything in you to not turn your head into the soft pillows, breathe in his scent and fuck yourself right there. You felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t ever satisfy themself. 

Joel fully kicked off his boxers and knelt beside you, he motioned his finger in an upwards movement and you sat up for him. Quickly, he removed your bra and your chest gently fell from the hot pink fabric. He gently pushed you back onto the bed and then worked to remove your panties, they too were discarded with the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

“Now, where were we?” Joel smirked before he trailed his fingers back between your legs. 

Instinctively, you spread them for him as he worked over your clit again; within seconds, the pressure was there once again and you tightly gripped at the sheets below you. 

“Joel —“ you whined. “Please. Please, I am begging you, please let me cum.”

“Now where’s the fun in that, little girl?” He murmured menacingly. 

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to not burst into tears there and then; the pleasure you were feeling was intense, Joel’s fingers moved expertly to bring you close to your orgasm and then there was the humiliation of him denying you the thing you wanted most. 

Joel was watching you intensely, he was picking up on every little micro movement your body made or didn’t make, he was calculating when to stop his movements or when to speed them up. Bringing you right up to the edge, almost letting you peer over it but then pulling you right back again; never quite letting you topple into ecstasy. 

He had done this three or four times now and the noises that left your body no longer sounded like your own; they were wrecked sobs of desperation as your arousal coated your thighs and left a wet spot behind in your wake. You could barely remember your own name or where you were anymore; Joel had messed with your mind.

“Please.” You pleaded to Joel, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me cum, I can’t — I can’t take anymore.” Your eyes were glassy with tears at the intensity of Joel’s actions and your own frustration as you experienced another ruined orgasm.

You knew if you really wanted this to stop, you could stand up, get dressed and walk away but you didn’t want that. Joel Miller had rotted your brain and you were fixated under him, completely at his will. 

Joel smirked at you again, that same look he kept giving you; it was smug, it was infuriating and it turned you on even more. 

“Look at you, princess. You’re a mess.” He whispered, his spare hand brushing a strand of hair away from your features. “So wet and messy for me, hm? Are you sure you can even cum now? Do you know what to do?”

You nodded eagerly at the older male, your eyes pleading silently as your mouth was hung open in constant pleasure. 

Joel didn’t say a word, instead he sunk two fingers into your hole without warning; his thumb circled your clit with intense pressure. It was like a million sparks erupted throughout your body; your back arched off the bed, your thighs fell open even further and your walls clenched around Joel tightly. 

You could feel yourself flutter and pulsate around the man’s digits as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was open, not a single sound fell from your parted lips apart from the start of a strangled moan. The pleasure, the pure ecstasy, was too intense for you to make a single sound. 

Joel pumped his fingers quickly, watching as you came on them. 

“That’s it, fuck. So good. Give me another one.” He growled, his arm shaking as he pumped his fingers even faster inside of you; his thumb pass over your clit with each thrust of his digits. 

You honestly didn’t know if you could give him another; your body was shaking as you laid there and took what Joel was giving to you. It was intense and never before had you had such a strong orgasm; there were still white flecks dancing around in your vision as your body built up to another orgasm. 

Your fingers were clawing at Joel’s arm and you were sure that you had broken his skin as you came on his fingers; there was no telling what would happen when he ripped another orgasm from you. 

“Be a good girl and then I’ll give you my cock, come on, princess. I know you can give me another one. I know you’re good enough for that.” He whispered. “Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl. Look at my cock, it’s leaking for you. So good.”

You peered between your bodies and saw the head of Joel’s cock, it was flushed and there was a dribble of precum falling from the tip and collecting onto the sheets below. 

“Ki-kiss me.” You managed to squeak out, your voice shaking as you looked at the older male. 

He smiled and happily obliged, your lips met in a sloppy kiss as you felt your body shake more intensely. The tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped once more and another intense orgasm rippled through you like a shockwave.

“Good. Good girl.” Joel praised against your lips as he worked you through your orgasm. 

He pulled his fingers from your hole and rubbed them speedily across your clit, you let out a yelp at the overstimulation and gripped Joel’s arm tightly for leverage. 

“I’m gonna —“ you managed to call out before he felt yourself gush onto the sheets below you. 

“Oh fuck.” Joel moaned, his cock jumping with arousal as you squirted onto his hand. 

“I’m so, fuck —“ you breathed shakily and held yourself up onto your elbows, tears staining your cheeks from the intense pleasure. “Joel, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean up. Fuck.” You cursed, your body shaking as you went to sit up. 

Joel chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder back onto the bed with a shake of his head. 

“So sexy. Have you ever squirted before?” He asked, finally removing his hand from your throbbing pussy. 

You shook your head and he just grinned at you boyishly. 

“That’s even hotter, how did it feel, princess? Did you like it?” He asked softly, his fingers tracing soft patterns across your tummy. 

You blushed at his words and gently cleared your throat. “I did like it, I didn’t… well I didn’t know I could actually cum that hard. It was intense but amazing.” You said softly, looking up at Joel through your lashes. 

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Look, we don’t have to — well, y’know, we don’t have to have sex. If you’re too stimulated or whatever. I can sort myself out.”

You quickly shook your head and pulled him closer to your naked body. 

“No!” You said quickly. “I mean, I am a little over stimulated right now but please, I need to feel your cock in me.”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice and he roughly flipped your body over so your face was against the bed. You gasped under the male, surprised by his strength. Behind yourself, you could feel Joel moving, positioning himself so his cock was nudging against your entrance. 

He thrust forward, filling you once again; you were all-consumed with just Joel. The heady scent of him lingered on the bellows below your face, you cunt ached with lingering pleasure of your orgasms and now, you could feel his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked into you with fervour. 

“That’s it, sweet girl, taking me so well. So good.” Joel mewled, the praise sending heat through your body once more. 

Your fingers clung to the soft fabric of the sheets below you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as Joel fucked you. 

“So good. F-faster.” You whimpered. 

Joel obliged, he sped his hips up and dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt as if you were going to have bruises there for days. 

Joel’s hips began to stutter, his groans grew deeper and you clenched around him, trying to bring him closer to filling you. 

“Such. A. Good. Little. Girl.” Joel groaned, each word accentuated by a deep thrust. “This is my cunt now, got it? Hm. All mine. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

You nodded under him with a soft moan as he bottomed himself out in you, his cock impossibly deep as you felt it twitch before he coated your insides with his hot cum. You whined at the sensation and felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock instinctively. 

“Shit.” He groaned, giving one final sloppy thrust before we collapsed down onto the bed beside you with his chest heaving deeply. 

You followed suit, your body finally giving out from under yourself; you grimaced as your body touched the soaked patch on the bed and you began to feel Joel leak from inside of you. 

“‘M a mess but so tired.” You yawned, scrunching your face in disgust. 

“Let me clean you up.” Joel whispered, stroking your cheek. 

He let out a grunt as he climbed off the bed, his limbs aching from the effort. He scooped your body from the mattress and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you in the bath. He turned the shower on and you hummed as the warm water hit your body, not caring your hair and makeup would be a mess. 

Joel climbed behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders as the warm water washed away the messes you both made. 

-

-

A/N: my requests are open again, I can’t promise I’ll always write them really quickly but please send me any ideas of stuff u wanna read <3 love u all <3

[enj4s]

VAMPIRE BOY, BITE ME IN THE MOONLIGHT! ᡣ𐭩 .

─── ˚୨୧⋆ PAIRINGS; subaru sakamaki, 𖥻SUBARU x fem! reader ｡˚ ⋆

─── ˚୨୧⋆ 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎; smut. swearing. fem!dom! reader. reader is mean, again. pegging. (lil) hair pulling. hickies. crying. toxic relationship. both are fucked in the head.

★ Author note 😆😆!!: Whoever requested ts excuse my dramatic ass, I LOVE drama as you can see. (sorry btw) enjoy 🤤‼️ yallyal request I got nun to do other than rot in my bed 💔

It was one of those days-

You were a patient and laid-back person, or so you and some people thought. But your anger issues have gone up the roof since you met the seven diabolic, unhinged brothers.

Their mothers and Karlheinz were just as bad, if not even worse. The Mukamis could not redeem themselves but they were bearable, especially Azusa who was just less annoying and irritating, or atleast didn't make you wanna dig your nails in your skin and clutch hard till it bleeds, like the others. You had an exception between the seven Sakamaki siblings as well, whom was Subaru.

Subaru was one helluva person to deal with. If not for Karlheinz introducing you to his past, you would've kept your first impression of him, which was he had rabies.

That boy was as layered and complicated as an onion, and trying to navigate through his mind and emotions was gonna drive you mad. One moment he's calling you a dense ass for dropping a pencil or getting bitten, and the other he's glancing at you all soft like a high school girl in love would.

You swore you have spent and used more brain cells on trying to see through him than you had on maths. He could be downright cruel at times, and even dismissed you so harshly that you favored the men-whore final boss (Laito) over him for some while, which didn't last long when he forced you so adorably in a 'relationship' with him or is what you thought, since he ordered you to resist if any of his brothers try to bite you. What else did it mean?

He would become absolutely feral when he got jealous. It was pretty easy to make him reach that point, but dangerous. He would start yelling at you and destroying everything around him in blind rage when he saw you talk to a male teacher or student or his brother's, going as far as attempting drain you of plasma. It was all too tiring and frustrating, you wanted nothing but quietness, to be left alone and ignored.

His delusion of you being his was so utterly nonsensical, but you went along with it for your safety and sanity, it was wise to sometimes give up and give in to his delusions, which he used as a control and power element. Resisting only meant to get bit to near death, where you'd start to see stars and lights that you thought only existed in cartoons, or, like these times, when he'd strangle you.

-where you'd snap.

"Shut the FUCK UP!" You'd yell at the top of your lungs, couldn't you even be strangled to death silently? His yammering of you being a betrayer was so damn irritating. Subaru jolted and flinched away form the volume of your voice, that look on your eyes, he backed up slightly, his grip on your throat weakened. In a swift movement, you dug your nails deep into his unhealthily pale wrists, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you had left.

Subaru stumbled backwards, catching himself quickly, his white boots stepping on a broken shard of glass from a vase that you bet was supposed to be cherished. You felt guilty for using one of his traumas against him to make him halt, stop. Yes, but did it save you from getting choked? Yes.

The anger was incredibly contagious, you bite your lip to hold back all the insults and traumas you could bring up, knowing that it would just bring you brutal death and a quick burial in dirt in the next hour, you shut your mouth, trying to find saliva to relieve your sore throat that was deeply in dire need of moisture.

The grip he had on your throat just now had been so tight you could've sworn he had actually meant to kill you for a second. Your breathing became labored. Your heartbeat was stubborn and didn't wanna settle down. Your eyes stared back at Subaru's with a mixture of tears and fury, you blink. Trying to help your eyes get used to the light again.

Both of you had your flaws and toxic traits, you suddenly found yourself on top of Subaru, a hard grip on his hair that matched his on your throat earlier, you wipe salty tears away, everything was a blur. You swore you couldn't remember a thing. You'd insult other people for not controlling their actions, yet you couldn't keep yours in check either.

"Sorry," You murmured against his pale skin, kissing alongside the hickies and bite marks you left on his neck. They looked painful. He was a vampire, so you didn't worry too much. They'd heal in an hour or two. You were still between his thighs, cum dripped down his hips and legs.

"You just piss me off sometimes...It's so childish when you start yammering and yelling, creating scenes when I talk to anyone," You watched his wine red eyes trail down in something like shame. His mouth was sewed shut, he was already embarrassed from moaning as loud as he yells. He was cuter when he was quiet, you note, and grin silently, propping yourself on your knees to thrust inside him again without warning, tearing a shriek from the albino beneath you, he drops his head down on the pillows, you were making him feel way too good, as rough as it was.

It almost seemed like you were still taking your anger out on him as you pounded inside him harshly. Subaru felt his stomach coil and he tightens, when you'd lean down to whisper sweet nothings in his ear that didn't match your humping.

“C-ca- ah! Can’t! Hah..” Subaru whined shakily, a sound he'd drop dead before making if he was in his right state of his mind. He hiccups and whimpers as he covered his face with his hands. “So full..hic- too much," His legs dangle like a rag doll's from your shoulders as you plundge inside him deeper and deeper with each delicious thrust.

You lean down with a sigh, catching Subaru's lips in a kiss, and grab at his long bangs, tugging hard to tilt his head upward, and swallow down the loud wail that was about to wrack from his body as he came, vibrating slightly and hips thrusting up pathetically in the air. His fangs poked at your lip a bit painfully as he tried to bite down his noises, now chasing after your lips and the little blood that threatened to spill.

Getting strangled or beat again later from a flustered Subaru wouldn't be surprising after wracking his shit, but it was worth it. You could only laugh as he emptily threatened to break your arm after this, complaining that he couldn't feel his legs and that you're a perv.

─── ˚୨୧⋆ @enj4s ♡ @un0rin ♡

don't repost or copy I know where u live 👁

[tainted-liquor]

'Fuck Around and Find Out٠ ࣪⭑

e42!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles! TWs: Miles being a dumbass, sassy men, N-word usage, probs incorrect spanish so pleaaase lmk! W/C: 695 A/N: BERLEEZY REFERENCE EUUUUGHHHH!!

It was a peaceful Saturday, and you and your boyfriend Miles were hanging around in the living room when you got a sudden idea. You were going to make Miles play phasmophobia. "Hey Miles? Can you c'mere for a sec?" You called to his crouched form that was 'miles' deep into the fridge as you powered on the TV. He made his way over to the couch, a mix of confusion and amusement as you slid the headset over his head. "Whatchu doin', ma? What's all this for?"

"Shhhh, just play the game. I wanna see what you think of it," You persuaded as you slid both controllers into his hands. "It's...a new game! Yeah! We're experimenting with genres today. Just follow the instructions aight?" You booted the game from your TV and patiently waited as Miles hoisted himself up from his slouched posture, standing in the middle of your living room as you watched the screen. He looks around the electronic space, muttering a confused "The fuck is...phasmophobia" as he begins toying with the various objects in the van.

You explained the game's goal as he nodded in what he thought was your direction, giggling silently as you grabbed both of his wrists, gently guiding his hands to the necessary items and showing him how to pick them up. "Mami, you know I don't fuck with them fuckass ghosts. Why do you have me playing this?" he chuckles as I show him how to move. "Whaaat? Who said anything about ghosts?" you teased, trying to hide the main enemy of the game to get his raw reaction. "I swore I saw a cross over there, so it's either ghosts or demons...n ion rock with either of 'em. The spirit of the lord is HEEEREEE" he exaggerated as he began to play the game. He spent 30 minutes stuck in the van, debating what he should bring to the farmhouse.

When he finally got into the flow of the game, he was scared as bitch. "Why's it so dark in here? This shit got me tight like why am I doing alla dis in the dark?" He spat as he descended the dark halls with his flashlight. He was already antsy as he took out the EMF reader, watching as it spiked to about four with an annoyed fearful groan. But you decided to take it a step further and taunt him just a little bit more. You snuck up to his side with an absolutely evil grin on your face and breathed cold air on the side of his neck.

He unleashed the most unhinged, barbaric, high-pitched, off-the-rails fearful scream as he swung at his side blindly. He would've knocked you clean out had you not already gotten yourself out of the way as soon as you saw his muscles tense. "CHILL, NIGGA DAMN!" You giggled as you watched your boyfriend fearfully run out of the house. He faded in and out between English and Spanish, losing his shit as he desperately tries to explain to you what he felt, not realizing that the ghost can actually...hear him.

"MAMA BICHO! AAAH- MAMI, SENTÍ SU COLD ASS BREATH DE MI LADO!! NO ME DIJISTE IT COULD BREATH!" He practically yelled as he lifted the headset slightly. You laughed manically at his reaction, watching as he scowled and lowered the headset back to his eyes, only to be scared right back out of his headset by the entity. You watched as he jolted backward, hitting the back of his head rather aggressively on the wooden coffee table. You couldn't help but laugh twice as hard, face turning red as you rolled around on the floor, silently crying and clutching your stomach for dear life. "Shit...! Oh my god, Miles, baby are you okay?" You muttered in between harsh giggles, reaching your hand out towards your boyfriend's crouched form with both hands behind his head. "I will KNOCK. yo ass out." he enunciated as he subtly shook on the floor.

"I'm sorry my love!" you cackled as you scooped what was left of a man into your arms, tears coursing down your face from laughing too hard.

[oneforthemunny]

Hello :)

My birthday is coming up (New Year’s Eve). Was wondering if you can write a lil blurb about what cowboy!eddie treats me to!

i've been saving this one for you ;) was going to post on your birthday, but i'll be honest, i will probably be out of town and didn't want to miss it so here you go!!! an early birthday present for you with cowboy!eddie <3

“Goddammit!” Eddie hissed over the sizzling of pans, kitchen thick with steam and smoke from the cluttering of pans in front of him. 

You set your bags down, the crinkling plastic of each of the birthday bags from your lunch in town with your girls. The roads had cleared off, thankfully, and the Christmas crowd dwindled down enough for the lot of you to have a nice birthday lunch. 

Eddie had insisted you go, shooed you out of the house with a kiss and his debit card to cover your meal. You’d been suspicious, of course you knew he was planning something, but an elaborate… Birthday cake? Maybe? You couldn’t tell with all the pots and pans. 

Eddie angrily grabbed the phone off the wall, jabbing in the numbers on the pad. “Buckley, you fuckin’ said this was gonna be easy… No, it’s not fuckin’ easy! This raspberry shit doesn’t even look right, it’s brown… Food coloring? Why the fuck would I buy food coloring?.. Y’gotta be shittin’ me, right now. I told you she wanted pink fuckin’ cake and you told me to get raspberries and they don’t even make the damn thing pink. Are you out of your goddamn mind-” Eddie turned, mid-frustrated rant to see you standing there. 

His jaw unhinged, eyes wide, rounded like he’d been caught red handed- and he quite literally was, the raspberries stained his calloused hands a blushing shade of red. 

“Baby,” Eddie squeaked, shoving the phone back on the hook. “You-You’re back early. Are you back early? That was quick.” He rambled, side stepping in front of the simmering pans, the cake cooling on the rack, sink piled with batter filled pans. 

“We got our food pretty quick. It wasn’t too busy.” You hummed, setting the bags on the kitchen table. “What have you been up to?” Your lips curled at the edges, teetering on a smile. 

Eddie swallowed, throat bobbing as his heart raced. “I-I, uh, well, I was tryna make somethin’ for the neighbors-” 

“-The neighbors?” 

“Yeah, the, uh, the Jeffersons. For Christmas. A-A late Christmas thing.” Eddie fumbled through his words. 

You lifted a brow, looking at the mess in the kitchen behind him. “The Jeffersons are out of town until January eighth.” You met his widened gaze. 

“Oh,” Eddie’s cheeks hollowed. “Uh, are they?” 

“They asked us to get their mail for them, Ed.” You tilted your head to the side. “What are you up to, Munson?” 

Eddie’s lips rolled, twitching before he huffed, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fuck, alright, you got me. I-I was tryna make you a birthday cake.” He stepped to the side, revealing the mess fully. “I asked your Mama while we were visiting what kinda cake you liked, and she said she used to always make you a pink one when you were little, and-and I went to the store and of course they don’t have anything pink, so I called Robin and she told me to use raspberries, but that,” Eddie scoffed, lifting the still smoking, simmering pan. “Turned brown, so it didn’t work.” 

Your chest swelled, lips pressing together to keep your own emotions in. Eddie hesitated, clutching the pan anxiously. “I-I just wanted to make it special, y’know? You-You said you liked it when your Mama would make homemade cakes, and I… I, honest, baby, didn’t think it was gonna be this hard. I’m sorry I laughed at you that one time you burnt that pie because this shit is hard.” 

You giggled at his words, stepping closer to him, looking inside the pan of melted raspberries. “That’s- This is really sweet, Ed.” You whispered, eyes shining when they met him. “You don’t have to do this, baby.” 

“No,” Eddie pointed at you playfully, shaking his head, boots stomping against the wood when he dumped the pot into the sink. “You want a pink cake, and I’m making you one. I just- I wanted it to be done by the time you got home so I could surprise you, but…” Eddie waved at the mess around him. 

You laughed. “I’m very surprised, Ed.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie’s tongue rolled on his dimpled cheek. “‘M sure you are. Just gimme a couple minutes. I think I got some red food coloring up here.” He turned, flinging open the spice cabinet. 

You moved to the sink, starting the stream so you could help him clean. Eddie’s head whipped around, curls flying. “What’s the matter with you? Sit down.” He shook his head, batting your hands away from the faucet. “I got it, birthday girl. Take a seat, alright?” He nodded firmly towards the small kitchen table. 

“Show me what you got, alright?” Eddie hummed, tongue poked out in concentration. “Tell me about lunch. Did that one friend of yours, the one that’s engaged, is she still..?” 

“...Miserable with her fiance?” You snorted lightly. “Yeah, she told us today not to pick out our bridesmaid dresses because she didn’t even want to get married.” 

“Christ,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head lightly. “Hope you don’t feel that way about me, darlin’.” 

“Never.” You grin, chin propped on your hand. “Bet her man never made her a cake.” You wink at him, proud at the way he blushes.

Later, when he'd deemed the cake to be finished, covered in sloppy pink icing, he sang to you as he carried the cake in, candles placed at the top. You beamed, a love drunk, gooey gaze on his bright smile.

"Blow 'em out, baby. Make a wish. Wish for somethin' good." Eddie grinned, sinking into the chair next to you.

You closed your eyes, lightly blowing each of the candles out. Eddie grinned, knife sinking into the cake.

It was hardly edible, the cake, somewhere between tasting like sugared Playdough and crumbling. You stomached it through tiny giggles, Eddie's exasperated huffs.

"Tastes like shit."

"No, it's not bad." You swallowed the bite thickly, hiding your grimace. "It's really not bad."

"You're lyin'." Eddie wagged a finger at you. He stood, snagging his keys and wallet off the counter. "Let's go."

"Go where?" You stood, gulping down the water at the table, trying to wash the taste out of your mouth.

"C'mon, I'll take you to get ice cream." He nodded, a hand falling gently on your back. "Not gonna subject you to eatin' that shit. Not even sure it's edible."

Eddie snuck in a candle, stuck it right in your ice cream cone, fishing out his lighter to light it in the middle of the ice cream parlor. "I won't sing unless you want me to."

"That's alright." You giggle, shaking your head, blowing the candle out for him. Eddie grinned, snatching the candle out carefully, placing it on the napkin in front of him. "Cheers, to my best girl, happy birthday."

You blushed, touching your cone to his. The two of you ate your ice cream, light hearted chatter and people watching. "This is a lot better than the cake." You laugh. "No offense, Ed."

"Yeah," Eddie snorted. "Don't know how people do that. There's so many fuckin' rules. I'll leave it to the people who actually know what they're doin' next year."

[jojodelaguerras-wooden-stick]

Some Christian Borle works that I hope vox fans will know about !!

I assume that there are many hazbin fans who are discovering CBorle or my tiktok has just been fueling this misunderstanding. Anyway, live laugh Christian Borle

Spamalot (OBC) - Historian/Prince Herbert/others

He is so funny in this, especially as Prince Herbert and not-dead-yet Fred. Being ragdolled and shaken around by the king as Prince Herbert or insulting Sir Robin with his tambourine as a minstrel

Legally Blonde (OBC) - Emmett Forrest

I know this is one of his most iconic roles but Emmett deserves more love literally the sweetest character and CBorle played as him so well. His "little miss woods comma Elle" AH and the little things that makes Emmett RAHHHHH

Some Like it Hot (OBC) - Joe/Josephine/Kip

Did you know that he does most of this show IN HEELS. Not only that, TAP DANCING IN HEELS like are you kidding. He also wrote some lines for the show! I love the whole show in general, it is so funny and so real in how they talk about identity and how you present yourself. I can write a whole essay but that'll be for another day. I love this show with all my heart

Little Shop of Horrors (2019 off-bway revival) - Orin/others

Speaking of heels, he too was in heels for this production, but much much less than SLiH. Still, the talent is there. Especially when he plays all the different characters, from a crazy dentist like Orin to Skip Snip. He is also super unhinged and likes to drag out his death as Orin to make the audience laugh. I recommend watching the tiny desk concert first if you are not familiar

Thoroughly Modern Millie (Replacement) - Jimmy Smith

There's not much for this show, just a video of him singing What do I need with love. I liked his singing in this and the small details he does during this song to show that Jimmy has fallen for Millie is cute

Mary Poppins (Replacement) - Bert

He may claim that he was the worst tap dancing Bert but he was still a champ for learning all that choreo and even going upside down in step in time. Another one with crumbs :" Gosh what I would give for a boot cuz rn its just the disney on Bway videos and jolly holiday. He did it with Laura Michelle Kelly :)

Me and My Girl (New York City Centre) - Bill Snibson

He did this show with Laura Michelle Kelly too :))) AND THE SHOW IS SO FUNNY it's so underrated and has very funny lines. Someone said that it was basically 2 hours of CBorle being silly. I also love his and Laura Michelle Kelly's dynamics as Bill and Sally. Speaking of this couple, Bill and Sally are literally as healthy as Emmett and Elle and i love that for them

Peter and the Starcatcher (OBC) - Blackstache

Literally my favourite show of his. His blackstache is so animated and silly I love him. And his agility sliding over the trunk and running around. His moments in Mermaid Outta Me ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽ silly lil guy. Similarly to Orin, he likes to drag out his hand pain to make the audience laugh. AND HIS CURLS omg this era of CBorle hair is the best imo. And he won his first tony for it! That goes to show something about his portrayal of Captain Hook and how it needs more love !!!!!

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (OBC) - Willy Wonka

A lot of people seem to see this role as the role he went bald for. We joke about Borled Egg a lot but he brought such beautiful unhingeness to this role that really brought out the joy of this show.

Footloose (The Muny) - Director

He also directs! Though there is no boot for this production, he talks about his experience directing and working on the show in some interviews and a reunion zoom call. The cast talks about how he allows them to be free in their portrayal of the characters while giving advice and proper directions, especially since he was in Footloose for tour and bway. I would have loved to watch it since footloose is a show I like too. NaTasha Yvette Williams is also in this!

Anyway, he has done a lot more shows, he's been in the industry for nearly 30 years so he has a lot under his belt and I wish he wasn't just reduced to Vox's VA, Marvin or Shakespeare. He's a brilliant actor with impeccable comedic timing and seriousness. He's not a two-time Tony award winner for nothing!

[finniestoncrane]

Ok I know I already sent in an order and it’s super last minute, but I had THE most unhinged thought cross my mind and I am currently CLAWING at the walls over it.

Putting in an order for delivery, black coffee, steak (Gotham bc I am once again in my Anthony Carrigan era LMAO), with a side of sliders, half sandwich, corn on the cob, and toasted peanuts. Finnie, u are honest to god a LITERAL legend, thank u sm for ur services 🙏🙏

gotham!zsasz x female!reader, word count: 400 content (warnings): praise!kink, lil bit of punishment, sub/dom if you squint hard enough the kitchen is now closed! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: mia i was thinking of carmen the whole time is that weird? maybe...💚

"And what do you say? For interrupting my hit? And taking the credit?"

Victor's fingers tensed, thumb and pointer pressed into either side of your face, cheeks pushed together, unable to speak clearly. But you still answered him, dutifully, though mumbled almost to the point of incomprehension.

"I'm sorry."

"Good girl!" He jumped back excitedly, a patronising smile on his face. "That's a very good girl! A shame you weren't this well-behaved earlier."

You wondered how long this punishment was going to last, but you knew better than to ask, or to even act as though you weren't enjoying it. Which you were. Wrists cuffed behind you, kneeling on the floor in front of him, mouth drooling as he smirked and sneered and threw his praise towards you.

"So what have we learned today?"

You'd learned that Victor was incredibly posessive over his assigned tasks. That he was controlling, a perfectionist, who didn't need, and didn't want, and certainly didn't ask for, any help whatsoever. And you were currently learning that despite whatever feelings he might have for you, either romantic or purely carnal, he wasn't one for letting any misbehaviour slip by. It might not be the usual revenge that was served by him. You didn't fear for your life. But you could feel the flush of embarrassment on your cheeks when he opened his eyes wide and spoke to you as though you were an idiot. And you could sense the heat building in you, an ache in your cunt as you hoped he might punish you even further.

"Well? What have you learned?"

You mumbled something that you hoped was the right answer, trying to keep quiet in case you might have the answer wrong. You could hear his boots pounding on the floor as he stepped up as close to you as he could get.

"Say it louder. I want to hear you."

"I've... I've learned that... uh... you're the boss."

He crossed his arms and looked towards the ceiling in a dramatic show.

"Hm... good, but not good enough. We'll have to keep going."

You smiled, and he smiled back. It was a futile punishment, but he could pretend he was at least getting some semblance of revenge against you. Even though it might be backfiring completely. Why would you want to behave if this was what you received?

[sebsxphia]

Seb if we're gonna talk unhinged thoughts/thots, I've got a bit of an unhinged comedy one for you (lol).

Rhett and wifey are getting ready for Easter services so they can get home and relax. Amy and the girls all look so pretty in their new dresses and the littlest boys all look so handsome and so doesn't Rhett but as soon as everyone's ready to go out the door, Rhett walks into the living room and freezes because there are the oldest boys, yours and Rhett's twins, with chocolate and peanut butter all over their faces because they just dove into their Easter candy and Rhett's praying for them to sit still just enough and behave until you guys get home (lol).

Seb, I hope you guys had a very Happy Easter and some spring sunshine to boot. I was gonna also tell you I found a little something while I was book searching that might be right up your alley. It's called "The Country Diary Of An Edwardian Lady" and it's full of all the nature drawings that the author Edith Holden made when she was living in the rural areas of Warwickshire as well as her journal entries. If ever I can find the link for it I can certainly send it your way as long as you're ok with it (lol).

ehehe that really did make me giggle my love 🤭 half the struggle is getting preacher rhett and your lil’ ones out the door in the first place!

thank you so much for this sweet thought my love and for your easter wishes! i hope you had a lovely easter yourself, with sun too i hope! 🥹 we had some sun, mostly rain :( but that book! godddd! i looked it up and it unlocked some vague memory for me? i can’t quite pin point it, but i wouldn’t be surprised if we had some of her illustrations. they’re gorgeous! thank you so much for letting me know about that too! i know warwickshire relatively well too 🥹 mwah! 💗💌

[deadweightwritings]

AS IT WAS. TWD S5. [snippet]

AS IT WAS - HOZIER

TWD + Dixon!reader [S5 SPOILERS]

“So, Kit, is it?” Her frame stood awkwardly, bow and arrow holster around her shoulder, still armed to the teeth. Her dirt-covered fingernail tapped on a ceramic sculpture sat on a clean wood side table, refusing to sit on the furniture:

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I understand what you’ve been through has been hard—” She could have laughed.

THERE IS A ROADWAY, MUDDY AND FOXGLOVED. NEVER I’D HAD LIFE ENOUGH.

“Ya got no fuckin’ clue, really…ma’am.” Kit did this often, blame her dad, blame Merle but she had a way of being snappy and then bandaging it with formalities. What Deanna was aiming at could have been her life before the shit went down, or during, Kit couldn’t tell but applied her statement to both lives.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” She pursed her lips into a thin line. Kit beat her thigh with her fist a few times, walking to stare out the window:

“No, thanks.” Deanna nodded, and followed her. Standing a few feet away from her, Kit’s shoulders tensed, hand itching for a knife.

“Have you always been with Rick’s group? Your dad?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Where were you when this happened?” Kit debated telling her the truth or a group of lies. She frowned slightly, repositioning the bow across her body.

“It was me, my dad n’ uncle. We found Rick’s group.” Deanna squinted her eyes the tiniest bit and Kit wanted to sigh heavily through her nose.

“And what happened to your uncle?” Stone replaced Kit’s features, she hardened her face, going still for a moment. She thought of Merle. She thought of the Governor. She replayed how he murdered her uncle. And how she responded by putting an arrow through his skull.

“Yeah missy, what happened to lil’ ole me?” Merle stood in the corner of the room, though this time for her hallucination, there was a bleeding bullet hole in his chest. Shit.

“All you did was arrive on scene, huh? Never saw what happened?” His smirk was something she missed, although he’s a walking dumpster fire of a person, Kit did miss her uncle. Her eyes narrowed to see the extent of the wound of his chest, wanting to walk over and see it further.

“All you saw was yer daddy sobbin’, and me.” Kit looked at his face and it was that of a walker. Skin grey, stabbed, bloodied and decaying. Eyes clouded with white, and jaw unhinged. A guttural growl came out of his mouth as he took a step forward to his niece, and Kit visibly flinched.

“Kit.” The voice of Deanna made her head snap up.

“Are you alright—?”

“Yes…ma’am.” Inhaling harshly through her nose, she pinched between her eyes and her face twitched.

“Where were you?” Kit shook her head, scratching her neck.

“Not here, fer a second—"

“No dear, where were you after Rick’s group?” Static filled her deaf ear at that question, opening her memory bank.

“Are you fuckin crazy, Don!”

“We don’t have a choice!” A cocking of a rifle fixed upon Kit’s ears, as she switched weapons. Don ran onto the grass in front of the house with said rifle and swiveled, looking right at her crouched position on the roof.

“Dix, light it up!”

“Kit?”

Hustling down the ladder and in through the back door, her boots thumped against the wood floor, following the noise of many voices. Kit burst into the room everyone was held in, hollering:

“Everybody out and into the bunker!” The new people jumped at her sudden appearance.

“But the—” Glenn started but was quickly shushed. Lifting up her helmet to expose her face, wide-eyed and scowling, she screamed:

“You deaf, man? Move it! NOW!”

She sighed, rubbing her hand down her oily and dirt crusted face.

“I was separated from ‘em. Didn’t seem ‘em for a while…An’ then I did.”

“Rule number 6, you wanna go anywhere, do anything on this property, you go through Dix. No poking around. She says what goes.” Now that shocked some people. A Dixon being the leader? No shot in hell.

“That’ll be the day…reporting to a Dixon.” Shane muttered and Kit heard him loud and clear.

“But, where were you? Who were you with—”   

“Can I go?” Deanna was a little shocked by her sudden mood shift to leave but felt she had badgered the poor girl enough. Letting her out of the room, Kit’s strides were wide and fast as she heard the camera click off behind her.   

The muddy, bloody boots of Kit echoed, as she practically stormed out of the house they held the interview in. Reaching the front porch, she went to the banister and folded her arms onto it, dropping her forehead onto them.

She banged her head on her forearms a few times before taking a gulp of air, standing straight up and putting both hands onto the banister, exhaling shakily.

She still felt blood on her hands.

HOW LONG YOU WOULD WAIT FOR ME? HOW LONG I’VE BEEN AWAY?   

[larentsaloud]

Please make a post for Thyme clothes for EP8. Was he going to wear those yellow long shorts and boots (?) to school?

He looked so endearing this week...so different in body language from EP1 Thyme. In EP1 is was so wound up and ready to pounce.

your wish is my command anon. 

as we have established before, the tiger print is a metaphor for the ‘old thyme’ the one who hoards power and prestige. when thyme is going through a transition phase, you see him quite literally wear the tiger shirt with donuts, or tiger shirt with bananas. 

none of this is done by a mistake, but is a direct reference to his emotional state. you can tell how thyme is feeling by the way he dresses. soft pink / colourful thyme is happy thyme. 

during the bus scene, when he wore the yellow banana tiger shirt, yellow being symbol of jealousy and bananas are literally a way to describe a mad person in some countries, perfectly summaries him emotional state. 

I have seen other’s discus this theory and I have made this connection very early on, so I am glad others are finally appreciating the metaphors and symbolism this show is making. I discussed it here briefly x  

ok now that we got THAT out of the way. let’s get it. in no particular order:

1. Delulu Thyme™️ I’m On A Boat Outfit 

I love this on hiiiiiimmm! he looks happy and carefree, the blue collar and hem accentuate the nautical theme. I am not convinced about the shorts, only because we got insufficient leg content this episode. I need more LEGS. MORE is MORE. gimme. 8/10 because it looks psychedelic and has anchors. I dig it. I love how pious he is with the buttoned up collar. does it not open? no? are you suuuureeee?

2. Lost Lil’ Tiger Looking For Owner Outfits

LOOK AT THAT FLUFF, it’s also purple and would snuggle. 10/10. 

meow? lemme in? what is this print? I don't mind it. has a 70s disco retro vibe, like when you fall out of the club onto the pavement and chunder all the way home unable to get an uber, the only difference being that this lost kitty has found his way home, but owner not replying. 7/10 because I will cry?

I can’t believe this is what my parents had to do before mobile phones. they had to GO places and ASK people questions. abhorrent. kudos to kitty tiger for trying so hard. naw. what is he wearing tho? OH IT’S ONLY PURPLE METALLICA CREW NECK. THIS IS FINE. I WILL NOT HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN. SAID NO ONE EVER. I AM FULLY UNHINGED. I WANT THIS SO BAD. 15/10. 

3. WAR PATH THYME UNLOCKED VER 1.0

IT’S THE SWAG FOR ME. IT’S BLACK AND HAS STUFF ON IT. I DON’T CARE. IT’S PERFECT WAR SHIRT. ALEXA PLAY war on drugs I don't live here anymore. argh. I am screaming because this is the first time he stands up to her BIG TIME. this is the correct fashun to wear when unlocking a new war path. we approve. do I need to rate it? its priceless. 

4. THE ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE NEIGHBOUR OUTFIT FT GETTING BEATEN BY MY GIRLFRIEND (AGAIN)

listen, there are few things I will never understand. and one of them would be white socks in black shoes. they stain and stop being white. just why? I know rich people can afford to throw socks away after one use, but what is this? it looks like Versace outfit and I absolutely cannot stand Gucci, Versace or Prada. it’s epitome of ugly fashion made for people who like to flash it. I’m more of a Dior / Chanel girl. I like elegance and style, something demure and long lasting. stylish. that you can fawn over quietly(ISH) but hey. back to thyme. this whole scene took me out. he learnt her moves, but he wasn't expecting to get punched. this outfit  is a no from me? in terms of where it stands on the tiger vs happy thyme scale? I would say he is changing, so this is the in-between outfit. like when you walk in the new neighbourhood wearing designer gear, unaware of the fact you will be an eye sore. -5/ 10

5. TAMING THYME AKA DOMESTIC LIL TIGER 🐯

IT TAKES A WHOLE VILLAGE GORYA TO RAISE A THYME. I CANNOT RATE THIS. THIS OUTFIT OWNS MY HEART AND I WILL NOT TAKE ANY CRITICISM. 

6. RAMEN THYME I REPEAT RAMEN THYME THIS IS NOT A DRILL

look even he has hard time believing that his sister just praised him for moving in next door. this outfit is S O F T boyfie vibe, ideal for inviting your friends over and making some. ramen no innuendoes thank you. I love the whole vibe, the nirvana like smiley and pink detail. again we get pink and yellow just saying. minus the trousers. and the Versace sliders. 7.5/10 

ok I take that back. I have just seen with my own eyes the whole top and thyme? baby? is that a girl spinning the sun / smiley face / her mood with her legs while laying down on the back? who designed this, I need a word. 

7. BOYFRIEND THYME IN THE HAUUUUSSSS OUTFIT 

WILL I CALM DOWN? ARE YOU CRAZY? HOW CAN YOU CONTEMPLATE ASKING ME THAT. THYME IS BEING A BRO TO HSI GF’S BRO. CAN YOU GET THE TISSUES READY? WHERE THE HELL IS REN’S HANKIE I NEED THAT RAG TO WIPE MY MASCARA. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS. IT’S BRIGHT YELLOW AND I CAN SEE HIS LEGS. I AM HAPPY. LEAVE ME ALONE. HIS FACE??? GOODBYE. OK PRADA YOU HAVE ME ON CHOKEHOLD. I RESPECT YOUR DENIM. THE HELL AM I GONNA DO???

TO RECAP. I AM A SLUT FOR THIS OUTFIT. THEY ARE SO DOMESTIC TOGETHER HERE. MADE THEM BREAKFAST, SHE LEANS OVER HIM AND PLACES HER HAND ON HIS BACK TO PUT HER SHOES ON. HOW CAN ONE NOT BE BESOTTED? ASKING FOR A FRIEND. 9281282983219 /10

HE DID GET BEATEN IN THAT OUTFIT, TOO BUT THAT’S HOW OUR COUPLE CHRISTENS ANY NEW LAWK.

8. LIL’ BIRTHDAY TIGER AKA THE SOFTEST NICEST CUTEST BOI TO EVER EXIST FT A HEADBAND

DID ANYONE SAY PRAISE? I THINK OUR KITTY MIGHT BE REQUIRING SOME. LOOK AT HIM GETTING IT. WHAT A HAPPY OCCASION. 

THIS WHOLE LEWK IS SENDING THE F4 NATION FERAL. AS WE KNEW IT WOULD. FOR STARTERS WE HAVE A HEADBAND. A HEADBAND. LORD HAS BLESSED US. AND THE ADDITIONAL CRACK OF HIM WEARING WHO ANT SOT BE A MILLIONAIRE SHIRT FORM EHR BROTHER. I TOLD YOU THIS WEEK IT WOULD BE FROM FAM NOT KAVIN OR REN. LMAO. LISTEN TO ME WILL YA. ANYGAYS. THIS IS PEAK DEVASTATION. ANON. WHAT HAVE YOU MADE ME DO. CAN’T SCORE THIS WITHOUT WRITING AN ESSAY. I LOVE TOO MUCH. SIGH. 

9. EXPLOSIVE OVARIES SYNDROME ACTIVATED OUTFIT 

I REFUSE TO COMMENT. NAAAH. UHM. NAAAW. 

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER WITH ABSOLUTE DEVOTION I WILL CLIMB MY CEILING.

IS THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR? 

YOU HAVE SENT ME DOWN A SPIRAL AND I ENDED WITH TUX THYME WHICH LEADS TO MANIA. 

[entishramblings]

The Essence of Arda [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: whoA okay so this fic took me on a whole ass adventure. I kinda just let the story go where it wanted to and ya know I’m kinda happy with how it turned out. Also, “(h/c)” means hair color...there is something I included but I wanted to make sure you guys could still see yourself as the character so yeah! Another also...I’m sorry....this was requested literally so long ago.

Request: @sokkasdarling — heyhey im gonna request smth cus i LOVE U AND UR WRITING HHHH okay so how about a jealous legolas fic where he thinks the reader and aragorn have a lil thing going on but they're just really great friends and she actually likes legolas very much?? please and thank you<3333

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) and Legolas’s paths cross in an unexpected way and the two develop feelings for each other. However, Legolas is unsure and gets jealous bc of the way Aragorn and (Y/N) interact.

Word Count: 3,661 (sorry I got a little carried away)

Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, jealousy, the tiniest amount of nudity

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas had met many wandering souls throughout his travels of middle earth—weathered, withered, and warped humans in particular, for the elements and loneliness seemed to affect them more so. Elves, on the other hand, were bound to nature. It was where their hearts rested and their spirits thrived; therefore, the desperation of the empty lands of Arda did not affect him. However, that didn’t mean he did not wish for company. So, on that account, Legolas made his way north towards the Dundain, in hopes to see his good friend Aragorn once more.

It was there, in the northern wilderness, where he met the most riveting and thought-provoking individual. The intriguing nature that compelled his attention was that she was so unlike the other humans he ventured upon, specifically because she wasn’t exactly human.

The first time he had met (Y/N) was when her sharp canine teeth were at his throat.

A (h/c) she-wolf had launched herself at him with an unhinged jaw and barring teeth. The nimble creature had been so swift that he, even as an elf, did not have time to react. The wolf had pinned him down with a viscous expression—laughing at his surprise. Legolas was only quick enough to pull a knife from his belt once he was already knocked down upon the mud. However, he hesitated just before he was going to strike the blade into the beasts’ belly.

As intimidated as he was, something in those vibrant earthy eyes made him halt. Was it the deep churning of the sea? The fresh breath of the sky? The moisture of the leaves? The pooling of sun-kissed honey? The thickness of clay-like soil? Legolas was unsure why exactly, but those eyes reflected the essence of Arda—they reflected it right back into his soul. And here was his miscalculation, for the natural instincts of a wolf would not suspend for its prey—well, not without a familiar voice calling out....?

“(Y/N), NO!”

The creature froze. She reluctantly backed off of his form but she did not let her guard down. Instead, she circled him with those same barring teeth and low growls.

Legolas inhaled a deep breath of cold air as he tried to re-center himself, for it was not often an elf got knocked on their ass and enthralled so deep in a beauty.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and focused in on his elvish senses—feeling every nerve in his body scream out to be alert.

Legolas’s ears picked up the first indication—the speaker.

A sound of rough, ragged panting carried through the breeze as his gaze whispered upon the being who had previously hollered—a worn down Ranger.

A small grin crossed the elf’s face. Aragon stood before Legolas, with hands on his knees, sucking in deep breathes. An entirely human action. The Ranger clearly had a hard time keeping up with the canine creature—which he surprisingly seemed to be acquainted with.

“Legolas, by the Valar, I didn’t know you were traveling through these parts,” He exclaimed.

The elf chuckled as he stood, brushing dirt off his palms.

“Well, I suppose I am lucky for she listens to you well,” He nodding at the wolf for reference.

The Ranger shook his head and let out an amused laugh. “She never listens to a thing I say. So, you are lucky, indeed.”

The wolf released a snort-like sound as if she was retorting to his words.

The Ranger rolled his eyes before speaking to Legolas again, “Let me show you to where we are camped. A hot meal will be waiting.”

Legolas smiled softly, “Thank you, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The group—consisting of man, elf, and wolf—traveled through the woodland tundra with small conversation between the two who could speak. They shared their recent adventures and current news across the lands until they come upon a handful of Rangers around a blazing fire. They were clad in similar attire as Aragorn, being worn leather boots and thick fraying fabrics. Each of them had the same haunted expressions as many people Legolas had met, yet nothing like the joyful grin that pulled slightly at Aragorn’s lips.

The Ranger introduced each of his companions to the elf as he settled down upon a log. Legolas did the same, allowing himself to become enthralled by the brilliant flames. The she-wolf left his thoughts.

As the moon rose high and stars stretched across the sky, the rangers began to settle for the evening. It was then when the elf ducked away to relieve himself.

He made his way through the twisting trees in silence for he enjoyed listening to the sounds of night’s nature. But the normal chirps and hoots was not what met his ears; rather it was snapping bones and ripping skin, small groans and weak whimpers—it was pain.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and crept forward cautiously, fearful of what he might find.

The sounds let him towards a rather large bolder that was impeded in the ground and covered in thick moss. He was startled as he laid a hand on the cold stone, for a leg protruded upon the side—a leg belonging to the canine species.

It bended and it snapped, morphing into one of human nature—much like his own. It then disappeared behind the rock once more. He could not hold back the gasp that left his lips for witnessing such a thing was—shocking, confusing, terrifying. It was unnatural, but then again, what was ever natural within the lands of Arda?

Legolas’s attention was drawn upwards as a naked figure shakily stood before him.

She stood straight, with impeccable posture, and a head held high; but that is not what claimed his consciousness. It was that vibrant gaze, burning angry holes into him.

She spoke sharply, “Well, are you going to pass me my clothing?”

Instead of responding or making any motion, he froze as if he was deer hiding from the predator once more. His blue orbs locked onto hers, for he dared not let his gaze wander.

Dreadful silence hung in their air as he processed that the person before him indeed was a wolf moments before—the wolf.

However, that antagonizing absence of sound was disrupted when life was breathed back into him and he could finally move his lips. Though it came out as a whisper, for elves were conservative creatures and such a sight had caught him off guard, it still came out nonetheless.

“You are—are not entirely human.” He stated with an expression that seeped curiousness and inquiry.

“Though, currently, I am shaped like one. So, as you are in my way, I will ask you once again to pass me my clothing.” She reiterated.

Legolas’s brows pulled together and his lips mumbled her words back to her as he searched his mind for the meaning. He twisted around and around until a pile of dark fabrics caught his eye. He grasped them gently and passed it over the boulder between them into her calloused hands.

He turned so his back was facing her. His anxiety and awkwardness reverberated off of every word that non-consensually tumbled from his lips. “You are a shifter then—able to alter your form? A wolf....so I suppose it was you who almost tore my throat out.” He paused before recalling her name, “(Y/N).” He should have stopped there if he could, but alas, he couldn’t. “I have only ever met one other like you. His name was Beorn—a great black bear he was—“

She interrupted him, “Most elves I come across are not so verbal. Though, Strider had mentioned you before, Legolas. A strange fellow you are indeed.”

A small grin of embarrassment flickered across his face, not that she could see. “He called me strange?”

A laugh, sounding of blades of grass rubbing together against the wind, struck the air. (Y/N) spoke, “For an elf he had said. But truly, he was too generous with those extra words.”

Legolas tilted his head at that for it seemed to be an insult; but before he could decide on such a matter, she called out to him again—this time fully clothed and ten feet in front of him.

“Are you coming?”

He quickly scampered after her.

As he and (Y/N) entered the area, Aragorn, who still sat by the fire, glanced up with a shimmer in his eye.

Legolas gridded his teeth and sat down next to the man. In a voice as low and quiet as he could muster, he spoke to the Ranger. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the wolf?”

Aragorn smirked in amusement before whispering back, “I figured you would eventually come to that conclusion and by your expression it was not of the best experiences.”

Legolas shot his friend a glare, but that only made the Ranger grin more.

Luckily for the elf, (Y/N) interrupted the moment. “Strider, did you save me some stew? I’m starved.”

The man passed a bowl to her as he spoke, “You know I always do, (Y/N).”

She smiled gratefully.

The Ranger stood and made his way to his bedroll, clapping the elf on the shoulder as he went.

Legolas took notice of the interaction between the two and turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him.

Once he was sure Aragorn was out of ear shot, he spoke quite bluntly, “You and Strider....are you—“

She snorted, “No, no. His heart lies in Rivendell.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, “And yours?”

(Y/N) shrugged and glanced up at the scenery around them. “Here. In the lands of middle earth.”

The elf tilted his head, examining her again.

She stopped her chewing and sent him an accusatory look. “What?”

Legolas smiled softly, “I sense that shifters are much like elves in that regard—bound to nature and tethered in the sky.”

She raised a brow, “And what makes you think that?”

He chuckled lightly at her bold fierceness, “Your eyes. I can see the essence of Arda in them.”

(Y/N) shook her head in amusement, “Elves and their poetry.” She paused, taking a moment to think. “Although what you say is true, it is within that where I think we differ. You elves are laced up spiritually whereas shifters are tied animalisticly.” When the elf did not respond she continued, “You care for morals, I care to survive.”

Legolas nodded in understanding, “Yet we both appreciate the beauty of it.”

The corner of her lip pulled upwards and she shook her head in agreement.

......

As time went on and the small group traveled, the female shifter and the elf became great friends—bonding over their infinity with nature. The two had split off from the rangers for a little while because (Y/N) wanted to see the forest of Greenwood and examine what seemed to be haunting it. However, after approximately two moon cycles, they met with Aragorn once more. He was not with his previous companions though, so it was only the three of them.

The months had gotten colder and they traveled upon open plains so (Y/N) stayed in her wolf form. It was easier for the time being. And it was in this shape that she came bounding towards the ranger that she had not seen in a while.

She jumped up upon him, knocking him to the ground as she had once done to Legolas. She plastered wet slobbery licks upon his face as his chest rumbled with laughter.

The elf could not help but feel a pang of jealous encase his heart. He had grown to develop feelings for the shifter as they had grown close over their journey. 

Just as he felt bound to nature, he felt bound to her.

So he stood, with a fire burning in his heart, as he watched (Y/N) give canine affection to his human friend.

As the days continued on, Legolas’s irritation grew. (Y/N) strayed closer to Aragorn’s side—rubbing her face against his leg and pawing at his feet in attempt to trip him.

Of course, Aragorn could pick up on the elf’s mood and angry looks. He had thought Legolas was aware of his lover in Rivendell, but perhaps not. The Ranger had wanted to find a moment alone with the elf so he could assure him of the sibling-like relationship between him and the shifter; but with open freezing lands like this, there was no privacy.

The small trio had settled upon large rocks for the night as that was the only shelter available. They lit a brilliant fire in attempt to starve off the nipping wind, but it only did so much.

Aragorn, wrapped in blankets, had fallen asleep quite quickly; whereas Legolas sat brooding, leaning against a boulder.

It was a moment before he noticed those curious eyes on him. They twinkled with the emotions of Arda, searching his soul. With a tilted head, the wolf approached him slowly.

She crawled forward, so close that her wet nose was inches from his own. She resting one large paw upon his thigh but her weight did not hurt him.

Legolas did not move because he was taken by surprise. (Y/N), as partially human, did understand boundaries; yet, she did not seem to care about them in this instance. Instead, she studied him—up close.

The elf knew that she was searching him for answers given she had noticed his mood as well. However, Legolas did not wish to give any. Therefore, he held his porcelain elf features strong, not bending to her intimidation. He starred right back at her. Though this time, his eyes were filled with anger and frustration—and (Y/N) could tell.

Legolas was upset with her for she blatantly gave Aragorn affections.

Could she not see his heart?

He had said he would not bend to her will and intimidation. He had decided he would be cold towards her. He had made a choice—a choice that he could not uphold as he gazed into her soft eyes of nature.

Slowly, he raised a gentle hand. He brought it close to her face. When she did not pull away, he cupped the canine’s features.

To his disbelief, (Y/N) completed an action he had never seen her do before—even with Aragorn. She leaned into his touch.

Legolas’s lips parted as the moment encapsulated his mind.

He let his hand fall slowly and (Y/N) leaped off his lap. But she did not scamper off in a different direction. Instead, she ducked into his side and curled up against him. She let her head rest on his lap.

Cautiously, Legolas began to stroke her soft, (h/c) fur. He let the short strands slip through his fingers, lulling her to sleep.

.....

When Legolas woke, (Y/N) was not in his sights. He sent a confused expression towards Aragorn who was tending to the dwindling flames.

“She will be back,” the Ranger stated simply.

The elf stood and walked towards Aragorn. “Where did she go?”

The ranger shrugged while biting back a smile.

Legolas frowned at his playful expression, “I know you know something, Aragorn.”

The man raised his brows. “I woke sometime in the night. You and (Y/N) seemed quite close.” He paused, the tone of his voice changing, “You know, she never lets anyone touch her like that.”

“Never have you....?” Legolas let his sentence trail off as the ranger shook his head.

Aragorn spoke again, “My heart rests with another.”

Their conversation was cut short by a feminine voice. “Have either of you seen my cloak?”

Legolas’s head snapped in the direction of the sound for it had been long since (Y/N) was in her human form.

The shifter stood before them shivering slightly in her clothes. They were clearly not fit for the freezing air as the fabric was thin—so thin that her the curve of her breasts and nipples was easily seen.

Legolas adverted his eyes and instantly began to ruffle through his bag as he spoke with concern in his tone. “(Y/N), why have you shifted to your human form? Did you not say it was safer for you to travel through this weather as a wolf?”

She sighed, “It is harder to communicate in my animal form.”

Both of the men knew what she was alluding to.

Legolas cleared his throat and pulled out a couple fabrics from his bag. “I have been carrying your cloak.” He moved towards her as he continued speaking. “Wear this as well. It is an elvish tunic weaved from my homeland; it will keep you warm.”

“Legolas, you don’t ha—“

He shook his head, “Please, I insist.”

(Y/N) reluctantly took it and pulled the fabric over her head. She frowned as she handled the wrap around ties, not quite able to figure out how they were supposed to lay.

The elf smiled softly, “Here, let me.”

Ever so gently he took the extra fabric in his hands and begun to weave it around her form. He tied the delicate cloths in a simple knot before moving to fasten her cloak under her chin.

“Thank you, Legolas.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “It is no problem.”

He turned to gather his belongings as they were to continue their way through Arda. However, as he did so, Aragorn shot him an amused playful look. The elf sent him a sharp glare in retribution.

.....

Within a couple days, a winter storm hit the group. Luckily, they were not far from a human town which they gratefully took refuge in. Of course, as they busted into the inn, many weird looks were thrown their direction. It was not often this area was crossed by elves and rangers—and skin changers, but they were unaware of (Y/N)’s less than human nature.

They each paid for a room and took time to settle into the warmth.

Legolas rested on the edge of the cot, fiddling with one of his blades. He had let his thoughts wander to a place he had been avoiding. A bond with nature was one thing he knew deep within his soul, but a bond with another was something untouched and left uncovered. Of course he had had acquaintances with friends and family; however, the bond he was debating over was one with a lover. He knew where his heart craved to be, yet he was unsure how to proceed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the frame of his open door.

Legolas looked up to see (Y/N). She was wearing fresh clothing, likely washed and pressed by a maid. All the filth and grim had been scrubbed from her skin and her wet hair was pulled into a tight braid.

“(Y/N),” he stated simply. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head as she stepped into his room, “Well, not entirely.”

Legolas frowned at that comment.

The shifter walked closer until she stood only a foot from the elf.

He looked up into her vibrant eyes with question.

(Y/N) cleared her throat as she gently placed something soft and neatly folded into his hands. “Thank you for lending me your extra tunic.”

He smiled softly at her, “Won’t you need it again when we depart? The weather isn’t getting warmer anytime soon.”

A light chuckle rumbled in her chest and she shook her head in response.

Legolas placed the fabric next to him and looked up at her again. He did not notice he was staring until she whispered his name.

“Legolas, why do you do that?”

He tilted his head trying to hid his embarrassment, “What do you mean?”

Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, “Why do you look at me like that?”

The elf adverted his gaze, “My apologizes. I did not mean to offend you—“

(Y/N) interrupted him, “It is not an offense.” She sighed before speaking again. “You look at me like you marvel at nature—as if I am something so breath taking.”

“You are.” He frowned, “Do you not think so of yourself?”

The woman did not say a word; instead, she shifted her vision to the floor.

Legolas reached outwards and took her hand in his own. “You are breath taking, (Y/N)—even more so than nature.”

She shook her head, “I—I don’t understand.”

Legolas could not hold back any longer. He knew he needed to explain what he meant but no words could formulate such a thing. Therefore, he gave into his impulses and did the only thing he could think of to demonstrate it. The elf pulled her into him and grasped her cheeks with his hands. Legolas drew her face downward and smashed his lips against hers. When she did not reiterate any action he instantly pulled away. Had he taken a step too far?

“Legolas,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“I...I am sorry...I didn’t—“

She shook her head and clasped his cheeks, bringing his mouth to hers once again. Their lips moved together like the rhythmic dance of the wind—swirling and intertwining with eagerness. Legolas could taste the essence of Arda upon her lips—the sweet honey from east of the Anduin, the fresh berries from the region of Eriador, the bitter nuts from the mountains of Angmar. (Y/N) moved her body in-between his legs, but she decided that that was not close enough. So, she lifted herself into his lap, letting his calloused hands encircle her waist and hold her steady. She could feel the warmth of sparking fires, the comfort of soft wool, the shield of shelter from harsh winds. Legolas laid down upon the bed, pulling her form with him. He could hear the pounding of her heart and the gasps of her breath. Every sound she made did not escape him, it fueled him. (Y/N) tangled her fingers in his blonde locks and smiled against his lips for she recognized every aspect of nature within the elf, for it was in her too. It was the essence of Arda.

.....

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back @mylittle-escapingdreams @arandomfandomblog @moriamithril

[amerrierworld]

Hands Off

for the request: The world lacks Lou Miller x reader fics!! Can you do one where Lou gets mad and defensive over reader 

Summary: Lou’s friendly biker gang always welcomed you with open arms, except one.

Characters: Lou Miller x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,551

Warnings: fluff but defensive & angsty >:( Lou, harassment, swearing and a lil bit of physical violence (all within good reason I promise)

For the longest time, you thought Lou only really hung out with Debbie, some of the Ocean’s crew, and colleagues from her club. But a couple months into dating she casually slipped in how she hadn’t seen much of her biker gang lately.

“What?” you shrieked from the couch, dropping your book in your lap. She jumped and looked at you from the kitchen, nearly spilling her beer.

“You’re in a biker gang?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, rather matter-of-fact like, “I’ve got a bike. It’s only a matter of time until you’re in a group for bikers.”

“Really? What do you guys do, rob stores and terrify regular home-owners?”

“Yes to the second, no to the first,” she laughed, coming over to sit with you. You threw your legs over hers on the couch, still rather flabbergasted at this revelation.

“So you haven’t seen them in a while, you said? Why not invite them around?”

“You don’t know them, baby. They’re a bit intimidating.”

“Uh, yeah, not yet. Come on! I wanna know your friends, please?” you grinned, wiggling your toes. She caught one of your big toes between her fingers and held you still.

“Fine then, but you’ll have to get some proper biking attire.”

So now, after multiple trips and a few drink nights at Lou’s club, you were heartily welcomed into the biker gang even though you didn’t have a bike yourself, and mostly just tagged around with your girlfriend. And even then you didn’t come on all their trips, finding the cramps of sitting on the back of the bike for too long unbearable sometimes.

Mary was an older, chubby-faced biker, with the face of the neighbourhood grandma who bakes, yet covered from the neck down entirely in tattoos. Paul was her husband, with an afro as white as winter snow, and chains hanging from every pocket and belt loop.

The two of them chatted, joked and laughed with you when in slower traffic or making a much-needed burrito pit stop whenever you went out. The rest of the group was around Lou’s age or younger, and though you felt welcomed by them, you kept to the three of them mostly. It felt nice and familial to hang around, and Lou seemed the most comfortable around Mary and Paul as well.

Then there was one member of the club who would come and go, and you didn’t often see him around, but when you did you weren’t the most chuffed at the sight of him. Tommy was a middle-aged balding man who didn’t seem to really like anyone in the group, but was still there for reasons unknown.

Your distaste was clear to Lou, and you managed to successfully avoid him.. most of the time. On one trip you had taken a well-deserved break near Central Park, lounging in the cozy late-evening weather, with Lou donning her iconic all-black leather outfit and heeled boots that made you swoon.

You were wearing a pink leather jacket yourself. Lou had chortled with glee at the sight of you trying it on, so contrasted to her black leathers and jewel-toned fabrics. Perhaps the rosy coloured leather wasn’t something you would’ve bought for yourself, but every time you wore it, Lou would grin to the point where her eyes would shine nonstop. So you wore it almost every time you went out on her bike together. It was a little bit Pink Ladies-esque, but you quite liked the way it looked.

But Tommy had been looking at you quite.. harshly, somehow. But you could tell he wasn’t checking you out, rather just judging you and your look. He seemed set on being around Lou, who couldn’t be bothered to give him the time of day, only having eyes for you and talking to you as you relaxed by the park.

“Lou,” you began, watching him scamper off to the other side of the group. One of the nice things about being in a biker gang is no one seems to want to bother any of you, letting you hang around in peace.

“Hm?” one of her hands was running through your hair.

“Does Tommy like you?”

She slowly blinked at you in baffled amusement, “like me?”

“Yeah.. I mean either he likes you and is sizing me up cause I’m your girlfriend, or he just despises me as a person.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t give him the time of day, love.”

“Why is he in the gang anyways?”

Lou shrugged, “him and Paul go way back. I don’t mind much, he’s usually not around anyways.”

You pursed your lips in worry, so Lou grasped you close in a tight embrace,

“Don’t worry about him, baby. He isn’t bothering you, is he?”

“No, just his annoying face.”

Lou looked over and saw that indeed, Tommy was giving you a repeated once-over, lingering on the small studs of the pink leather jacket, and her expression immediately soured.

“If he comes close again, I’m gonna clock him,” she growled.

“Hey now, don’t say that,” you giggled.

“Hmph.”

The rest of the time spent at the park seemed to be going fine, if it weren’t for the constant tugging at the back of your mind from Tommy’s incessant stares. The silent harassment from his eyes were making you uneasy, and Lou noticed.

“I am definitely going to clock him,” she said to you again. 

“Don’t,” you whined, but not very convincingly. 

Later on, Mary started a warm conversation with you, helping your nerves a bit.

“You’ll have to tell me where you got your jacket,” she said, “I have never for the life of me found a jacket with a colour like that. Only browns and blacks, and it’s so boring.”

You laughed, enjoying the way Lou absentmindedly rubbed your waist with her thumb.

“We’ll go shopping then,” you said, barely noticing Tommy walking in and joining in on the conversation, “I’m sure we can help you find something, Mary.”

“I don’t think pink is quite your colour, Mary,” Tommy piped up, eyeing you again, openly now that all focus was on you. You blushed, not from shy happiness like when Lou looked at you, but rather from sickening dread.

“Where’d you get this anyway, a cheap community theatre production of Grease?” Tommy grinned, tugging at the buckle of one of your shoulders. Your eyes flashed, and you slapped his hand away, every hair on your body standing up at his toothy smile, the ugly flash of a worn golden tooth growling back at you.

The tough crunch of Lou’s well-jewelled hand landing on Tommy’s cheek caught you by surprise.

He stumbled back into his parked bike, knocking it over as he landed on the ground, letting out a filthy curse as his nose began dripping blood.

“You broke my nose,” he cried out, “you bitch!”

“Wish I had done more than that,” Lou snarled, her hand still clenched in a fist. Mary and Paul had rushed forward to hold her back, but she didn’t seem too interested in punching him again.

She reached out for your hand and looked you up and down, as if he had given you a kick to the stomach rather than just bully and tug at your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” she asked, while your jaw was still a little unhinged.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” you replied, a bit lost for words, “but what about you?”

She shrugged, but you noticed her tightly clenched fist and the redness of her skin. As you inspected her hand, Tommy had got up, managing to stop the bleed and gave a rude gesture towards Lou who simply glared back.

“Fuck you,” he said, hoisting his bike back up straight. No one else bothered to check on him or lend a helping hand as he clumsily sped off down the street, leaving the rest of your small group to hang around on the street. Paul sighed in disappointment, but didn’t seem bothered by him leaving. Hopefully for good, you thought.

Mary was the first to break the silence, clapping Lou on the shoulder and congratulating her on a job well done.

“I never liked him anyways,” Lou muttered, as you lifted her hand and kissed her reddening knuckles.

“I think we should get some take-away burritos, don’t you, Mary?” Paul suggested, locking down his bike.

“Oh, yes, come on all of you, on the house,” Mary grinned, taking his hand and heading down the street to the nearest burrito place, the rest following.

“Burritos?” you waggled your eyebrows at Lou, and slowly the anger dissipated from her eyes, because you shoved your hands in the pockets of your pink leather jacket, and with your combat boots and jewelled belt, she thought you had never looked more like a biker, while somehow being the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

“Alright,” she hooked here arm through yours, “but maybe don’t get the spicy one again? You didn’t seem to enjoy it much last time.”

You shoved her playfully, “yeah well, you said that I could take it, and I trusted you completely, which I never will again.”

“You wound me,” she gasped in mocked pain. You lifted her hand again and pressed it against your mouth,

“Only when you sucker punch creeps to defend my honour.”

A/N: Defensive girlfriend Lou Miller to the rescue? yes please!

[beepiesheepie]

the tf2 mercs and what atla elements they’d bend cause you follow me and you signed up for my ramblings

this is literally gonna be that meme or mike wazowski hunched over and mike and that slug lady are looking at him like ‘wtf’. also these thoughts will not leave my brain until i write them down so feel free to ignore.

Scout: Airbender, hands down. Just look at him, look at everything he is and look at everything air represents. He’d likely be a rogue/non-monastery  airbender cause he’s so self absorbed and worldly attached that he can’t follow their customs (which also makes him a weaker airbender by default, why? see Kyoshi’s mom). Air is the element of freedom, fun, and humor, and just look at Scout, its his most defining traits. Imagine this kid just zipping around on the battlefield with a huge cloud of dust following him, or using a glider to fly in some way. He absolutely would.

Soldier: At first I thought he’d be a non bender, but then I began to think it over, and fire is what kinda bender he’d be (if he was one, he could still be a non bender). Fire is the element of power and passion, and not only can it become wild or unhinged in the wrong hands but it can be very destructive. That fits Soldier’s bill pretty well, he’s a passionate man of raw power. You could also make the argument he’s an Earthbender, what with his and its elements of machismo, courage, and physical strength, which Soldier is not lacking in. He could maybe bend lava if he was an Earthbender, and I don’t see him as a metalbender- metalbenders go through some form of major display of strength, something that forces them to be stronger than they are and work harder (see: Toph discovering metalbending and Toph teaching her metalbending students in the comics). Overall I’m pretty mixed on Soldier, but it is cool to imagine him using fire to blast himself upward or normally rocket jumping but when he comes down there’s a big wave of rocks going everywhere. If you have thoughts I’d love to hear them. Overall he’s more likely to be a fire or non bender in my eyes, non especially. (Imagine him going “I don’t need to throw fancy rocks or toss fireballs to shove this boot up your ass.”)

Pyro: It’s literally in the fucking name, its right there, their entire being, pyro. Firebender, hands down. Considering how mysterious Pyro is already I don’t know what else to say about them, but from my own personal vibes, I think they’d draw firebending from life, energy, passion, etc.

Engineer: I think this man’s an Earth and Metalbender, he’s courageous, strong physically (how else do you lift all those damn toolboxes), and generally a down to earth kinda guy. And of course he metalbends cause it’s Just A Very Engineer Thing. Also imagining this tiny lil dude earthbending massive rocks is really cool.

Heavy: Now hear me out. Waterbender. Yeah Heavy is a big dude, yeah he’s strong and masculine and powerful and huge and all that, but people forget- he’s a man of family. He has three sisters and a mom and they were shoved into a gulag at a young age. He’s also smart and has a PhD in Literature. He’s smart, and family oriented, and gets along with his team in game and out of the game. He protects and is a wall for those he cares about, which is a huge trait of waterbending. Feel free to share your own thoughts, I’d love to hear em.

Demoman: Tbh I don’t have that much on him. he strikes me as a nonbender, as a real Sokka kinda guy where his brains and strategic mind shine as a replacement for his no bending. Sticky traps and planning projectile arcs or using demoknight is a huge part of strategy when playing him. Also, combining alcohol and firebending never sounds like a good idea.

Medic: You’d think he’d be a waterbender cause of healing right? Lmao no this man gives 0 fucks for anyone near him, that’s a surface level analysis. This man strikes me as a nonbender. He heals using what he’s got and he doesn’t need no bending to magically fix things. Sweat and blood prevail.

Sniper: Also a nonbender. Doesn’t strike me as any of the four elements in any particular way, other than maybe air or water. Don’t have much thoughts on him either.

Spy: Oh my god I am so torn. On the one hand, he’s Scout’s father, and also imagine him as another rogue airbender, or maybe an ex monastery airbender so he has tattoos? Him being an airbender is solely for the rule of cool factor. On the other hand he could also be a nonbender, but having all the support classes be nonbenders is a bit disappointing. On the OTHER hand though, and I expect controversy for this, waterbender. He’s not the most community oriented, in fact he hates everything he works with, but this man absolutely would not hesitate to use bloodbending if it meant the job’s done stealthily, also, he has a weapon in the game that’s an ice spike. Not a lot of reasons for waterbending here I just think it’d be cool

Ok rant’s over I’m gonna eat a pint of ice cream ok byeeeeee

[haileymorelikestupid]

this is a cooke appreciation post because i haven’t shown enough love to the convoy boys like i have scho and blake and i decided to start with everyone’s favorite feral private.

not gonna lie, first time i watched i was like this dude is not the nicest huh but i’ve since realized that he doesn’t have any ill intent, he just lacks a filter at times. like telling scho he wouldn’t make it wasn’t to be demeaning or anything he was just putting it out there, whether he even believed it or not. he’s just feral and sarcastic and at least slightly unhinged and that’s okay i love him for it.

truth is, he’s honestly so caring and attentive in his own, barely noticeable ways. first of all, no one says much to scho or stares at him or anything when he first gets on, except for rossi’s lil welcoming comment. i think there’s a couple reasons for that – they’re probably used to random soldiers showing up at random times and smith brought him so there’s no point questioning why he’s joined them so suddenly, what would they even say to him, he’s clearly been through some shit so it’s almost polite to leave him be, etc. they could have just sat in silence, uncomfortable or not, but then cooke urges butler to carry on with that story so it’s no longer silent. sure, he may have done that because he actually wanted to hear, but i think a part of it was filling the silence without questioning the dude sitting next to him and without basic small talk or anything. and, since there’s no questions being asked by telling a story, scho doesn’t need to participate, thus giving him some time to just sit without something being expected of him. maybe that’s a little too much thought and credit put into cooke asking for a story, but whatever, i like it.

as much as cooke may seem to lack a filter, when he notices scho looking at his watch, you know he’s not going to ask. he looks at butler, not scho, but when butler asks, he finally looks at scho. cooke seems like the type of guy to add on when someone asks a question he wanted to ask (i.e. you’d think he’d make a comment or say “yeah” or repeat butler’s question or something), but here, he just watches and waits. course, we’ll never know what cooke would have done or said after that, if anything, since the truck gets stuck. point is, i think cooke’s care for scho comes in the small things, like choosing not to speak or choosing to encourage another to speak and draw attention away from scho.

then, when scho goes to get out of the truck, he hands cooke his rifle. it’s such a quick exchange i didn’t notice it until i saw cooke hand it back and went, “wait, when did cooke get will’s gun?” and rewatched the scene to see it. and like ok, yes, i understand that this is a film and the whole point was for george to hand the gun off so he could get out and push the truck in a moment but i’m disregarding that for now. because that exchange was so quick, and even though we can’t quite see cooke when scho is standing at the back looking down before he gets out, i think cooke was ready to take his gun or offered to take it himself. scho barely even looks at him and then cooke is holding his gun, scho is jumping out, and cooke is following. which, also that – cooke is the only one that follows him out. it’s possible he just got out because it was more comfortable to be out than cramped in the back of the truck, but i don’t think that’s it. in the few minutes we get of cooke, he’s very attentive to scho, even just with his presence. it’s hard to say why he jumped out, but i think at least part of it was that will is out so cooke is out too in case scho needs anything. he’s got his gun already slung over his shoulder but i’m sure if scho took his helmet off or something cooke would already have his hand out to hold it.

and yeah, he’s not actively paying attention to scho in terms of body language and looking right at him, but he’s still attentive. why else would he answer to scho’s suggestion of putting it in reverse? a halfhearted answer, maybe, but it’s not like scho asked a question in need of an answer. even if he did, who’s to say anyone would need to answer? i mean cooke’s “is that a dead dog?” was a question and it went unanswered. yet he knows scho directed it towards him in some way, so a small “yeah” is better than nothing. it’s not like whatever cooke says will really impact scho, he could have said nothing or shrugged or whatever and scho would probably still tell the driver to put it in reverse. that tiny response is just a sign of his attentiveness and own form of care towards scho, even if nothing but a pleasantry or formality, at least in my opinion. it’s the same reason he turns his body as scho walks to the other side. dude’s just having a quick lil snack and isn’t even looking at the other man, but he turns to face him anyways.

when scho starts demanding the men get out, he doesn’t say anything. he may not see why the guy is yelling, but he clearly isn’t going to judge him for it. if he wanted to do that, he would have gone to butler to make a comment or not helped push in the first place. but what does he do? he helps push, and he puts at least some effort into it. rossi doesn’t even do that much at first, bless him. when it doesn’t work, he makes a valid suggestion. he looks slightly incredulous when scho denies and says to just keep pushing, but he does it anyways. then when scho pretty much begs everyone to help, he doesn’t look to butler and rossi as quickly as everyone else does. he looks at scho for a moment longer, and i think he’s genuinely concerned for the man – plus, he’s gonna keep helping to push anyways, it almost doesn’t matter if everyone else joins or not. he even moves to a spot where he’ll have to let go of the straps of the guns to push. and yeah, will isn’t the only one who wants the truck out of the mud, cooke isn’t only doing it for him, but i think his concern for schofield makes him want to help at least a little more.

we know jondalar cares and is pretty compassionate towards will, but cooke is no less so. even though jondalar is the one who helps will out of the mud, i think cooke would have if jondalar hadn’t. if you watch his boots, he takes steps back and towards will once the truck is no longer stuck, even though he doesn’t need to. once scho is up and talking to jondalar, we know cooke isn’t looking at him or trying to talk, that he makes a comment to the driver instead, but i think his presence is just his way of communicating his care and concern (whether scho receives that message or not is beside the point).

and then, of course, he gives his rifle back when they’re back in the truck. the thing about that, to me, is that everything in that exchange, from the moment he takes will’s rifle and shoulders it to the moment he gives it back, is unspoken. he doesn’t complain and he doesn’t try to give it back until they’re settled again. scho could have done everything with his rifle shouldered if cooke did it all with two, but cooke doesn’t make him. he just takes it and it’s a small act that is simultaneously meaningless and meaningful.

then everyone’s looking at scho and they all seem concerned, so imma gloss over that. but out of that interaction, i wanna talk about the “you’ll never make it”. again, i don’t think there’s any ill intent, he’s just putting it out there. as for scho’s response, i can’t say with certainty whether that grated on him a bit or if his response is also him convincing himself (or maybe both). but after a moment, cooke makes this face where he kinda pulls his lips in, and i don’t think it’s from being chastised or rebuked or anything. it’s almost akin to admiration and respect and seems to say “i hope you do”, and it’s just another display of concern and care in cooke’s own way.

his farewell is of course a mix of good luck and a very cooke-esque comment, but it doesn’t diminish it in any way. he keeps his eyes on will as he steps down, and when they make eye contact one last time, he gives him a nod that says a lot – good luck, i hope you make it, messages of respect, etc.

bottom line is that i love cooke and the way he shows how much he cares and is concerned just by being present and attentive. maybe i’m giving way too much to a character with a few minutes of screentime and whose care by my definition may just be an actor doing his job and the blocking of the scene but i don’t care, i stand by all that i’ve said. please feel free to respond and tell me what you think or if you agree or if you think i’m totally wrong, i love when people interact with the stuff i say (legit you could call me a stupid idiot and i’d be glad you responded)

ps cooke definitely has big younger sibling energy, i talked about it with @schofielded and i so think he’s a younger sibling (but probably with a big family, his younger sibling energy is different from tom’s and tom only has one sibling so it makes sense that cooke would have many, imo)

[rhotdornn]

[Tender Little Hearts II] - Sapling

Wayward lodge, The Step Autumnsfall aerst-eve, third Moon, Seventh Astral Era

The last ribbons of golden sunlight gradually seep behind the cracks and nooks of the mountains overhead. Spring always held sway over these distant shores, so far removed from the mainland... For even in Autumn’s advent could one stumble across fields replete with reds and whites, and yellows and blues; a tapestry of colours in bloom. From boundless glades brandishing beds of petals, inked in all hues of the rainbow, to harrowing peaks of stone and iron, maintaining solitary vigil over us who oft dwell ‘neath their crooked boughs... It truly did hold this unfathomable allure, a getaway haven above any other far and wide... Well, ‘s long as you valued green plains o’er roofs o’ maple crowns, or vast kingdoms of seamless snow that is...

I know I did. At least on that day.

It all began not unlike all other, grand adventures--with small feats. Naught more than a little ‘Dear diary,’ here, and a doe-eyed observation there... Oh, and ‘course, not wanting for a spirit of adventure and mischief o’erlong, nay...

It all began on a sunny day, a normal day by all accounts, I assure you, honest.

With a spirited lad, and his hunger for the world--among other things.

The royal court of Autumn, a terrific place, you see... They held all of these halls and keeps of splendour, bathed in vibrant strokes of the paintbrush, and the Great-forges, the Haer-fyr being the grandest of ‘em all, differed very little. A proud folk, a hearty folk--aye, they found succor in those decorated marbles and draped halls...

...Yet, they also were none the wiser to another quarter, one far more rustic, under Hyrtfyr’s belt. There, in the secluded midst of The Step, laid the Wayward roadside lodge... A rustic cabin, homely and tranquil, long-removed from the troubles that ailed the shores of the Mainland.

That is where, upon that day, a flighty Sea Wolf had made his escape from the familiar life that cradled him thus far, and with no more than eleven summers to his name, did he steal away, under the veil of night, a ship of silver sail and mallorn timber; or had he merely joined a well-versed crew secretly so? Frankly, memory oft eludes me on these matters...

I am but certain the former sounds far more tell-tale worthy, I’d say...

Yet, as the break of dawn sprang ‘hind the jagged pillars of the mountains, so too did he find himself upon this blessed, remote soil. While Roegadyn cubs may’ve been left wanting for stealth, this slippery Wolf honed his own skills throughout the better part of his childhood--fleeing ‘twixt chamber and hall with varying success, at first.

And where did the road take him? Well, of course he knew... In a sense. His destination was made known to him, albeit the course--not so. His day wasted away in exploration, and as morn waxed to midday, had he already learned of the fruits and the flowers that made their peaceful home there. As midday turned to wane into night, however, did he finally chance upon the steadfast planks and crude cobblestone that lined the foundations and walls of the beckoning homestead. A keyturn here, a few cursory glances there... And to bed he went, wholly spent and content, sinking away into dreamscape’s hold...

...Would that he awoke the same fashion--at least, as far as his feelin’ of accomplishment went. As his vibrant hues began to squint open, did he drink deep of the crashing sunlight; of the specks that flitted from window to floor, of the gentle wind that lulled the shutters.

Of the looming silhouette, colossal and terrible, perched by his bedside, with arms in a lax fold atop its breast. Yet, a gasp he could not withhold, no matter how hushed--his instinctive fear entrenched him firmly, forcing him to spring back in his covers. This, of course, was noted by the stalwart shade, now visibly sitting upon a pulled-up chair.

Its bulk soon gave it away--a male Sea Wolf, through and through, his skin brandishing a light tint of seafoam, and his fiery mane long, at ends sharp, with two great braids running past each side of his face, each encased in a metal cask near the bottom. It was the brittle clatter of these very cases that announced his attention steering towards the cub.

“Well, well, what d’ve have here, then... Rise an’ shine, lil’un.” His deep, powerful voice gently ushered into the wind, an unbecoming serenity yielding from his lips.

The child’s jaw unhinged gingerly, for as he took in the form of the man afore him, he could make no mistake; from the runic insignia upon his braids, to the war-paint cherishing his lower eye, even momentarily bereft of crown--the Haerkoen, the Greatking of Hyrthyml stood afore him. The youth was swift to knit his brows in frustration, pulling up the covers in a feeble attempt to remain concealed.

“Your--uh, your... Majesty, what... Brings you ‘ere...” The Sea Wolf feigned a cough, muffling his juvenile voice faintly.

“Oh, you know...” Began the larger Wolf, a single brow flicking up in quizzical amusement. “Making certain my ‘subjects’ are happy and content in all matters. Oh, and seein’ as you’re wholly satisfied with lounging the day away ‘ere by your lonesome, figured I’d take up the undying duty of delivering you this coveted... Journal, which someone simply must’ve stolen from ye--no way you’d e’er be clumsy enough to forget it by yourself... Mm? It belongs to you, I trust--especially so, given the detailed plans o’ yer lil’ flight to the Step littering its pages, and all.” 

Oh, he knew the words to pick at times... While mostly stoic, in the few instances where he could, he’d feed his own twisted amusement until every last drop was siphoned.

“What’re you doin’ ‘ere! Don’t ye have some important errand t’ attend to anyroads...” Barked back the child, the frustration of his own, flighty nature, gnawing at the back of his mind--how in the Seven Hells could he forget his most prized possession!?

“Nortstyr Rhotdornnsyn,” Thundering swept his proud voice, as ire rose and grew ripe in his burly throat, and akin to a whip he barked back, “The most important, unending duty o’ mine rests with my son, my daughter, my wife and my peoples--and none may come inbetween.” The quivering of the shutters would quell in the aftermath, as he assumed a much more resolute, hushed decibel. “Gather your belongings. We are to set out.”

While the rolling thunder instilled him with dread, the King ever knew the blood that ran in the child’s veins--and how a simple spark could give way to an unquenchable flame of anger. Not that he had been any different in his childhood, anyroads.

Off came the covers, and with a swift swipe of his arm did he snag back his adventuring journal--greedily pressing it to his chest, plumes of fire nearly seeping through his nostrils, as his own anger began to boil. 

“I am not leaving! I barely got here, lil’alone findin’ the place besides. I have no mind to go home yet.” Baleful daggers were shot towards the larger Wolf’s crimson hues, who only reprimanded him with a proud smirk. It did occur to the younger’un then that his senior wore less so a royal garb or anything alluding to his status--no, a simple, leather jacket, dark trousers and journeying boots was all he required for this task.

“I ne’er mentioned returning home just yet, my son. Come, while the dew is still fresh, and the ground rousing awake.” Into his arms he would guide Nortstyr, reassuringly guiding him off the weathered bedside. In bewildered wonder did the child glance up to the figure of order, and for the first time in a long, tiresome while, did the light of morn wash over not the High-king, but his father. Together, they would eat and make merry still, at the expense of the mature Wolf’s love for cuisine--before setting out into the wild.

There, after a longer trek drowned in rising laughter and, past halfway of the route, a piggybacking, did they at long last reach their quarry--an aged, immense oak, resting upon a sizable glade--a glade entirely cradled and embraced by the arms of the mountain. A quiet brook trickled and bubbled nearby, running off into a timid pond at the far side of the verdant plateau.

“We are come, at last. The Ahldeyha, or Old Oak, in short.” Spoke the labouring male, squeezing the child’s ankles within each fist affectionately. He gave him little room to ask his queries, for he knew what puzzled the cub’s mind. “You see, back when I was no more’n a lil’un, I fell into the same woes I seem to have cast upon you... My Pa was awfully invested in running everything, yet even in spite of it all, he noticed my turmoil... And while he did his best, it hardly sufficed.” Rhotdornn’s lips curled into a nostalgic smile, as he gazed up the terrible crown of the lush giant ahead, slowly taking his approach.

“So one day, o’erloaded as we both were with our burdens, our duties--I was stolen away, in the naught o’ night, by a mysterious figure cloaked in shadow... An’ next thing I knew, I awoke in that very cabin, with ol’ Hyrtfyr by my bedside, in these... Farmin’ trousers an’ suspender vest. I’ve never quite seen him out of his royal attire afore then, either.”

Nortstyr found great irony in this, if the devilish smirk upon his lips gave any indication. “Like father, like son.” He jabbed lower, prompting his father to rustle his legs playfully.

“Aye... Suppose it runs in our blood. An’ so we made away, an’ he took me to this place... A thing of beauty at night, as you’ll witness yourself. And together, we... Well...” Bracing both of his palms against the smaller one’s sides, he’d gradually pry him off, softly allowing him to find his own footing once more upon the gentle, dew-crowned blades of grass. From his large palm, at last, he’d unearth the smallest of seeds, to which the youth took immediately, taking it away as if it were the most brittle of all things.

“We made a promise or two to eachother, and dug into the earth together a little seed--no bigger than the one in your hand, my little lion.” Dornn’s hand soon proudly sat atop his son’s fiery locks, ruffling them with unwarranted affection.

“As we gave birth to a new life that day, so too did our bond grow, replenished with new life, new hope... And as our sapling grew greater an’ greater, so too did it nourish and strengthen the ties that bound us. A simple ritual, to be sure--but on this enchanted glade... You need little more than a bit of love, care and determination to see the smallest of saplings burst the mightiest of branches. Great feats oft spring from the smallest, most humble beginnings. Remember this, my child.”

The child nodded but once, awestruck as he had become from the intimidating shadow, blotting out the rays of daylight’s break near-wholly. “Aye, I... Think I un’erstand.” He slowly muttered, honouring the seed within his palm with an impressed, if not slightly fearful, glance. But in the end... It mellowed out, ultimately finding greater comfort than intimidation in such a small, timid thing.

Rhotdornn guided him ever lower, with one palm on Nortstyr’s back, and another patting a malleable patch of heavenly-soft ground to boot. With a bare palm each did they endeavour to draw out a smaller hole, none too far from the great Oak, gingerly lodging the seedling within the firm mouth of the earth. Rhotdornn slowly guided Nortstyr’s steps, piece by piece, showing him even as much as to how to pat the land together, how to straighten up the stalk... And from the nearby, gurgling brook did they draw water, sprinkling it across with due diligence, to tide the newborn life over, until new clouds were to blanket the sky, and pour clear rains upon the fertile soil.

At long last, they’d merely sit upon the ground, enjoying the peace that spoiled their senses vehemently. At long last, Rhotdornn spoke once more.

“The deed is done, Nortstyr. We ought to think of a name for it, I reckon... But that can wait. ‘Tis funny, in a sense--e’ery time I visit this spot, I visit a life I’ve given to one, while in the company of another... Much like my father, I’d say. Mayhap one day, even you will... Or you may yet unravel the magicks that stir within this place at dawn and dusk. Or you might chance upon a fetching lil’ witch and bring her hither to solve the mystery... Among other things.”

A sharp fang protruded from the roof of his upper lip, as his lips spread in a subtle grin, offering the smaller Wolf a little nudge with his elbow. Nortstyr scoffed, unused--and nearly unsettled--to witness his father in such informal chatter.

“Hrmph... As if. Besides, didn’t uncle Ornn say that adventure waits for no Wolf!? And so, none will hold me in one place with the world so large and ripe for the taking. Besides...” He quizzically peered up at his father, ever so innocently blinking upwards. “You mean to tell me sis an’ I were planted in the soil, too? Is that where Roegadyn children come from?”

Rhotdornn near-froze up, billowing a long breath out of his nose at the assumption. A long sigh followed thereafter, as a profound chuckle stirred his chest boisterously. “...Eh, let’s... Leave that mystery fer ‘nother day, can always ask one of your uncles or aunts--not Dhem, though. Never Dhem.” His brows knit together in a flat line, half-lidded as he had grown at the mere idea of his twin granting any... Quality advice in hindsight.

And so did the waning of the Sun, and the waxing of the Moon, finally come to pass. Together, did the two set out once more, homeward bound--hopeful glints for a brighter future twinkling in their eyes.

Signed, Nortstyr Rhotdornnsyn

[ The lower section of the entry appears to have weathered a few drops of liquid at the very bottom of the signature, bearing a more recent addition. ]

I miss you, Pa...

[stagekiller]

@craftedinsanity​​ || Meme || accepting

  DREARY HALLWAYS resonate with penetrating whirring of the mail cart. There's a pause, ever so often. Hardened rubber falls silent when the unhinged wheel sticks between Arkham's crummy tiles. Then, it begins anew; providing percussion to the choir of screams echoing from Screeching Sebastian’s cell. The only other cell in maximum security wing, purposefully housed near the jester’s in an attempt to deprive him of absurd luxury.

    E-146's cell doors, meant to be sealed shut by means of heavy pressure, are wide open. The notorious criminal graces the mailman with a shrewd glimpse. Ginger brows quirk, mangled mouth twitches in a smirk. The hunched employee mechanically dumps a load of fanmail before the jester's door. He lingers a moment. When Jerome doesn't pay him much mind, the mailman walks away. The clown returns to scribbling atop a disheveled notebook to the sound of Sebastian obsessively chanting curses for his wife.

   Soon, a tall shadow casts over Mt. Fanmail. Worn off white boots kick a few letters aside and a few give way to an avalanche. It’s a loaded pile, full of love confessions and drawings and little gifts that will go by unnoticed. He only tears them open if it will give him something to do. A peculiar shade of burgundy stands out; cursive writing adorns fine paper. Emeralds shine with curiosity.

              “ I’M GONNA KILL ‘YA, YOU FUCKIN’ WHORE ! ”

    In time with a desperate screech, gloved digits pinch the peculiar folder. Jerome returns to his seat with a kick to his step. He drops himself on the chair with a huff, clicks his tongues and puckers his lips, gaze never abandoning soft paper. It could be easily opened with the envelope left intact, but Jerome prefers to tear the side off. “ You go, Sebby! Get that bitch, get ‘er ! ” He steals a moment to call some encouraging words over his shoulder, eyes watching a stack of ripped yellowed notes being pulled out.

                           I still listen to the tunes you used to whistle.

    Pause. Gaze widens when stumbling upon familiar handwriting. Jerome’s mirth diffuses, his expression sobering up instantaneously. Pinching the note with both hands, he brings it up to his nostrils for a whiff. Mature paper has soaked in the smell of coffee. Jerome closes his eyes. His mind paints a vivid image of a locked dorm room ( referenced from movies — he has no idea what these look like in real life ) He can trace the aftertaste of Jeremiah’s smell, subtle undertones tickling his nose.  “ Hm-eeh ! ‘Miah, you lil’ weasel. ” Bitter chuckle is followed by a snort. Drawing a sharp breath, his fingers brace to rip the note apart.

                                              I tried to do it too                                        but it’s just not the same

   The audacity. Blood boils. A mere rip is all he manages before a mix of bitterness, curiosity and well-buried glimmer of hope gets the best of him. What is he looking for in these pages, anyway ? It could be yet another lie, something his brother staged for the sake of attention alone. Oh, yes, Jeremiah loves to play with his feelings. Loves stringing him along, feeds off of earnest adoration; that traitor, that treacherous little minx. Fingers twitch with desire to feel his twin’s jugular pulsating wildly in his grip.

            I met her today. She said you never mentioned me after I left.                       Part of me is relieved. That’s how it should be.                                     so why does it hurt still ?

    Ah, the sweet sting of betrayal. Lila sneaking out to meet up with her son behind his back. A pained chortle escapes him. Shoulders bounce with wry laughter. He tries to recall how liberating it felt to chop her plump tits, but somehow the memory feels plastic and distant; as if it never happened. It’s not enough. Foot taps the floor, a staccato that picks up the more he flips through his brother’s notes. Some of them carry stains. Jeremiah would never send him a stained letter. He’s meticulous like that. Clearly, he’d never meant for these to reach Jerome’s greedy fingers.

                         I wish we weren’t related. Life’s not fair.

    Another bitter chuckle. He shakes his head this time. Without realizing it, both his legs are bouncing now. Back sinks into his seat, a wet glare burning into each word. Sebastian’s psychosis merely reaches his ears now. Muffled snickers spill as water from a tipped glass through his Glasgow grin; uncontrollable, erratic, explosive. Something bubbles in his chest and he ought to get it out, the only way he knows how.  How cruel of his own blood to tell him now - NOW - when all is said and done, when he’s spent so long brooding and grieving and coming to terms with their tragicomic fate. Jerome seethes.

          “ I WILL CHOKE YOU , SLUT, I’LL DRINK YOUR BLOOD ! ”

                                         I miss you.

    Breath hitches between bouts of blaring laughter. He has to pause, slam a hand on the desk beside him. Guards are staring from the corridor; watching him slowly come undone after each note. Eyes squeeze shut and the first few drops of warm liquid run down his cheeks. For all they know, some fan must have sent him a joke book, something blatantly hilarious. Sebastian continues to pour his heart and soul out, sentiment that will forever bounce around those clenching four walls. For Jerome, it only makes this funnier.

                                             I’m sorry.

       “ YOU’RE DEAD ! YOU’RE DEAD-YOU’RE DEAD TO ME ! ”

                                    You’re not mine.                    I wish you were. I wish I could let you love me

    Unhinged peal of laughter ends in a coughing fit. The jester folds over in his seat. Thick drool dangles from his scars. There’s several notes left, but one resonates in Jerome’s mind, repeating as a broken record. It takes a few moments for the unhinged peal of laughter to die down as the clown regains his composure in drawn out wheezing and raspy pants.

                                          I hate me too

               “ I WILL EAT YOUR HEART ! I WILL EAT YOUR HEART ! ”

      Wild gaze regards the stack as it now lays on the floor, having slipped from his lap. A trembling breath is drawn through gaping mutilation. When Jerome speaks again, addressing his fellow inmate, his voice is a bit more scratchy than he would prefer it. A seething rasp, laced with painful adoration.  “ Oh, me too, pal. Me too— pth-ha-hah! ” He only stabilizes long enough to utter that one sentence, then relapses in agonizing mirth.