#i think i might find this under one of those tags the next time someone tags me so i will know for sure i've done it...

[mylittleredgirl]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @geneeste. :) i may have done this one before, but tumblr blog search was traditionally unhelpful and i have several very important things i should be doing, so here we are <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 219

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 655,471

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stargate atlantis is the runaway lead, then sg-1, 90s/00s treks, the x-files, and a grab bag of other things. only two fics so far for m*a*s*h but the forecast looks good!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

no sooner met (star trek voyager, j/c, eight years of friends-to-lovers in 5k or less)

career day (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, damn that sure was a choice to go back to high school amirite)

next chapter (the good place, chidi/eleanor, the intimacy of reading)

first date (star trek voyager, j/c, falling in love again)

occupational hazards (the good place, chidi/eleanor, eleanor would rather not be the architect)

5. Do you respond to comments?

eventually!!!! i tend to keep nice ones on my home page for a while to cheer me up and then sometimes they get buried. i wake up nights like "damn the good place fandom really went all out with amazing comments on that random fic in like 2018 and i never replied," so maybe i need to go through my inbox and belatedly clear my cosmic debts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

twilight (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, what if john didn't break the cycle). strong on style but real weak on comfort.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

weaving loose ends (stargate sg-1, sam/jack) ends with a wedding! in twenty years of writing romance fic, that has maybe only happened once?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not yet! but the year is young.

a fic of mine did cause a dramatic fandom schism once, in the dancing with the stars fandom no less. a splinter fan group created in exile! a mod claiming to be personal friends with the stars! everybody storming out and then blocking each other! so my fic did cause hate, but somehow i personally escaped unscathed. i didn't even get blocked. (lesson: in some spaces, rpf is encouraged until They Fuck. second lesson: if you start a fire and then stay very quiet, everyone forgets about you.)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do!! i guess!! but i'm struggling with it right now and it's giving me a complex. and "what kind" is like......... vanilla het fic for the most part tbh. gauzy curtain vibes, even. basically, i have to really sit and think about whether to rate something M or E, you know?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

yes, but not since the x-files days. rip geocities webrings we salute you for your years of service.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but i think i'd like to! passing chapters back and forth sleepover style like "haha write your way out of THIS" would be fun. (or collaborating in a more mundane way, i guess....)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

john sheppard/elizabeth weir (stargate atlantis). first fic in the tag and i'm still fuckin there. three years on tv and a lifetime in my goddamn brain.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

realistically, i'm feeling pretty down on the chances that i'll ever finish ANY wip that's longer than 20k, but the two long ones withering on the vine that i'd like to finish are a sam/jack sg1 episodic soulmate fic and "what if janeway went undercover with the maquis instead of tuvok: the novel."

16. What are your writing strengths?

stealing one of geneeste's answers because "character complexity" is a good one! i don't feel satisfied with any fic unless i feel like i have learned something new about a character, or highlighted it in a new way.

my more specific strength, according to @coraclavia, is missing-scene fics that weave through an entire series canon to make a thesis statement (they are In Love).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

😭 i can't write anything long 😭 i really wish i were different 😭 i envy those of you with staying power who can return to a story after going to work or writing something else and keep plugging away at it. i used to write sprawling things when i was a teen, but since becoming Adult With Job now many years ago, i've totally lost that skill!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

haaaahahahaha. talk about a weakness. i literally couldn't bring myself to write a fic that required dialogue in Ancient from stargate, a language that -- i cannot stress this enough -- is not even real. i'm like "well maybe i'll study latin for three years and then analyze all the episodes where they speak it to reverse engineer the differences so i can write the bastardized space latin correctly" GIRL WHY. JUST FUCK IT UP.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

first completed story that i recall would have been star trek voyager in my early teens, and by the grace of rural internet and some kind of prescient sense of self-preservation, it does not live online. first internet-published fic was several years later, for the x-files. for better or worse, that one can still be found.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i think pieces (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, catharsis through sex pollen) might be the new best, and i had a lot of fun writing erasers on pencils (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, catharsis through truancy).

--

i am sure many of my fic-writer-meme friends have done this already but @ussjellyfish if your answers have changed since whenever you did it last; i'd love to hear how @havocthecat, @anretc, and @coraclavia would answer this; and blowing dandelion meme seeds over the fence to the mash fandom: @remyfire!

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 11.1k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, mentions of vomit, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, sexual tension, angst, anxiousness, self-deprecating thoughts, low self-esteem, panic attack hinting, nausea, dizziness, miscommunication

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: The morning after came, the need for a talk is there, a new realization, new found feelings... as well as the gears going back to the starting line.

A/N: I am sorry.

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

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PART 7

The sound of a bird chirping caught your ear as you slowly gained your senses back, a soft whine staying in your throat as you rustled slightly in your place. There was so much warmth, making you sigh in complete happiness, as the body next to you held you even closer, his soft snores hitting the top of your head, the smell of his cologne that still lingered–

Body holding you close?

Your eyes snapped open like plates, being met with a bare chest in front of you as it slowly raised up and then back down, tattoos splattered on his skin, tattoos you recognized now. Your heart picked up a pace as you slowly, without moving too much, pulled your head off his chest to finally look up. Your breath was caught in your throat, a squeal wanting to come out as you saw Eddie’s sleeping face, his hair all over the pillow.

Your mouth fell open as you moved your legs slightly, feeling the soreness that now resides in between them. You needed to move away from him because you had to collect yourself. You had to think. You had to process whatever happened yesterday and you were beginning to breathe heavily and you really didn’t want to wake him up, not yet. 

You closed your mouth, trying to hold your breaths in as much as you could as you slowly started to wiggle out of his grasp, earning a scrunch of his nose and a groan. You tensed up when you moved, but he rolled off you in his sleep, laying on the other side of the bed with a soft sigh. You held your hand to your chest, feeling it almost ripping out from it with every thump. Your belly was turning, almost painfully as you raised yourself from his arm that was wrapped around you seconds ago, and probably was numb from being under your body the whole night.

You stared at his bare chest, your blankets covering until they met on his hips, and that’s when you realized you were stark naked, looking down at your body that– Oh god… You had hickies. You almost squealed but you threw a hand over your mouth, holding the noise in. You really had to go and collect yourself, because you needed to go through the events from yesterday and try to calm yourself before he wakes up because you two would definitely have a talk.

And that was the problem, about what?

You slowly took the blankets off your legs and swung them to the side, and you winced slightly at the soreness on your inner thighs. It’s been way too long since you… Since you had sex. Shit, you had sex. You slept with Eddie, your friend Eddie. Just because of a split second of horniness. You stood up before you screamed and looked around to find something that didn’t require you to open your closet in order to not make any noise.

You gulped as you grabbed onto your white cotton panties that you had taken out yesterday but decided on the black set. Where’s the bra? You can’t find it, and the only things you have are the black dress from yesterday, which is a no, a pair of gym shorts that you use for bed, and an oversized white shirt. Those two will have to do, at least for now, so you could run away from the room as soon as possible.

You grabbed onto the garments and threw them on carefully in order to not stumble and trip and probably make a fool out of yourself in front of the guy you slept with a few hours ago. You felt your face burn at that while you pulled the shirt over your head and your breathing was coming out in heavy amounts from your mouth and you quickly tiptoed out of the room, and closed the door behind you making as little noise as possible.

You let the breath that was in your lungs finally leave your body as you stepped away from your door as if it were on fire. Okay, you were alone now, Eddie is naked in your room, in your bed, because you two slept together yesterday night. Your hands ran over your face and pulled your hair back, gripping your scalp tightly, feeling your intestines just twisting all about, heart in your throat and the flow of your blood very loud in your ears. 

You started pacing back and forth, taking deep breaths as you started to think. What did this all mean? You acted out of instinct, out of urges. What were you? An animal? But Eddie didn’t seem to mind, he actually went in for more with you, didn’t he? You made all the moves of course, which you still don’t know how or why you did that, but you did and he followed. 

But what now? What is going to happen now? You crossed the line, this isn’t just a friendship anymore, friends don’t fuck eachother, at least, not your normal type of friendships don’t. How are you going to explain yourself? What if he asks why you did what you did yesterday? What are you going to tell him? ‘Hey, I realized that I am heavily attracted to you.’

Sure, that is true, but what would that mean between the two of you? What are his feelings about this and… how did he feel yesterday? Were you enough? Were you good? He seemed to enjoy himself, but you didn’t really do much, so did he like it? Did he really want to do that with you? 

“Fuck…” You were biting on your thumb’s skin next to your fingernail again. You really don’t know what is going on, you really have no idea how to move from this. This is the first time you actually felt good while having sex, and you really never in your life experienced what he did to you yesterday. Your eyes widened as you stood in place, eyes widening as another curse left your lips.

The burning in your belly was back.

How was this not enough? You went all the way with him, with a man you are actually attracted to, so why are you still yearning for more? It made no sense, and how your body reacts to the memory of him in between your legs is absolutely ridiculous. You looked at the door once, licking your bottom lip as your mind became slightly hazy again.

Maybe you can act normally? Just, go back into his arms in bed, see where that takes you, see him as he wakes up and smiles at you, and you two would probably talk about the fries from yesterday night and how you didn’t get actual dinner. He would ask for some pancakes again, and then you would gladly make them.

He would like that right? Waking up with breakfast? You can do that, just normally, like the other day you were at his home. Everything was normal after that, and everything can be normal after last night. You can do this. It’s going to be completely fine, you just don’t have to think too much about it, and maybe he won’t either. You took a deep breath in and walked towards your kitchen to start on preparing some coffee and then start grabbing the ingredients for your chocolate chip pancakes. 

You were taking deep breaths, trying to concentrate on your cooking. Eggs, milk, flour, chocolate chips in. You froze. You put the chocolate chips into the batter. Just how he likes it. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Your guts turned again as you kept stirring the batter, over and over again, the gears in your head making you dizzy as the thoughts started reappearing again.

He is going to wake up soon, what are you going to say? Act normal, that’s what you settled on, but now you don’t remember what normal is. How is normal after this? What is normal about any of this? It’s not. It’s definitely not normal to sleep with your friend. Are you going to keep being friends? Oh, what if he doesn't even want to be friends? How are you going to be able to handle that?

The smell of coffee snapped you out again and you looked down at the batter, letting a breath come out of your lips to finally put the pan on the stove. You grabbed onto one of your plates as you started cooking the pancakes, trying to just focus on making them the perfect shape, cooking them just right, letting the air be filled with the sweet smell–

“Shit darling, that smells good.” 

You froze on your fourth pancake, with the spatula underneath it about to turn it over. Your heart was in your throat now, maybe your ears, you didn’t know, but there was a sharp noise ringing in your eardrums, blocking any sounds coming from around you, including Eddie’s steps that were being taken towards you. 

He was now behind you, you could feel his presence on your back, your chest heaving up and down as you stared down, not noticing that the pancake was starting to burn already. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t know what to say, how to act, how to move, and your body simply grew into a cold sweat, your hand trembling with the utensil still in your grasp.

Eddie has actually been awake the moment you made him roll over in the bed. He kept his eyes closed because his heart was in his throat, and he knew he had to give you time. He knew he had to leave you alone to gather your thoughts on what happened, and he couldn’t simply dive in and envelop you again, even if that was what he wanted the most. Once you were out of the room, he sat up too quickly and ran his hands through his hair as his eyes stared widely on the comforters of the bed.

He slept with you. The thing he didn’t believe to happen at all, happened, which was you showing him what you wanted to do with him. You had the guts that he didn’t have. You made the first moves, all of them, and his mind and self control completely shut off last night, but so did yours. He felt his south area beginning to harden again as he remembered last night, your body, your taste, and he didn’t even do head. He almost never did, but he was desperate for you last night, and he still is. 

When you started losing yourself to your lust against him, he really thought he had gone to heaven at that very moment. He could have died a happy man yesterday after what happened, but then he wouldn’t get more. He wouldn’t be able to taste you again, to feel you again, to hold you again, and he wanted to, crazily so. He wasn’t going to let this be a one time thing, and he needed to tell you just that, but he knew you were processing yourself right now, after all, it was the first time you had acted out of impulse to your urges.

He held back a grin as he bit his bottom lip, dropping his hands on the bed. You let go with him, which meant, hopefully, that you reciprocated what he was feeling. You weren’t a friend, not anymore. He didn’t want you to be. He actually had decided, selfishly so, to not be your friend any longer almost a month ago. It had hit him like a train really, not even thinking that you would crawl under his skin the way you did, but the more time he spent with you, the more time you two talked about each other, and to be even interested in one another’s life stories, he knew he was a goner.

His head snapped towards the door as he heard you pacing around the living room and his gut turned with nervousness as his fingers trembled with the need of going and console you, to tell you what he was feeling, to tell you that everything is just fine, and he wishes he could tell you that everything is okay and that nothing changes… But he can no longer say that. There was no way he was letting you go this time, he wasn’t going to pretend to be normal, he wasn’t going to pretend like you didn’t kiss him fucking stupid last night, he wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t have the best night of his life just a few hours ago.

Minutes later, his nose caught the smell of coffee, and then a sweet smell. Pancakes. You were making him pancakes. He smiled widely at that, because despite you probably having a breakdown, or being nervous right now, you still decided to make breakfast for him. He took a deep breath in, getting up from the bed to throw on his boxers and pants, looking over at his shirt. If he dresses himself, fully, he was afraid of you thinking that everything was done with, and it was anything but. Shirtless it is. 

So now, he stands behind you, noticing how stiff you got, and the smell of burnt pancake filled his nostrils. His hand raised up to slowly graze over your wrist that was holding the spatula, and you almost jumped at the touch, but he held onto your wrist instantly, pulling it up so that the pancake would lift from the pan and throwing it on the plate next to the stove. He could almost hear your breathing from how hard it was, and truly, he was holding his own back in order to not make you any more nervous. 

His eyes then darted towards the bowl with batter in it, and he almost looked away when he noticed you had put the chocolate chips inside it this time, instead of sprinkling them on top of the pancake while it was cooking. The corner of his lip turned upwards at the gesture, and his chest puffed up with pride and with hope but for now, he had to snap you back into reality, because you were still frozen in his hold.

“Angel… It’s just me.” Those three words that always seemed to calm you for some reason, those three words that simply made all your nerves go away, even if little. Knowing it was just Eddie, knowing he wasn’t there to judge you, or criticize you, or call you out, but just be there for you, with you. You took a big gulp while you gripped onto the spatula even harder. 

“I–” No words were coming out. There was no way you could talk at this moment, because you actually didn’t know what to say, where to start, or how to even begin to describe what you were feeling or what you were thinking, but it seems you didn’t have to think too hard, because he was already blabbering, getting hold of the bowl with some batter left.

“See? It’s less messier when you already put the chocolate chips in.” You blink dumbly at his words, looking at the bowl. He tipped some in the pan, and his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth as he stuck his finger in the batter and dragged more chocolate chips into that specific pancake. That actually made you snap out.

“Don’t touch the batter with your fingers!” You exclaim at him as you wiggle the pan a bit to get all the edges with the mix. You heard him chuckle next to you as he set the bowl down.

“It needed more chocolate chips! That’s mine by the way.” He said pointing at the pancake that was already cooking and it was more chocolate than the mix. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. He stuck his finger inside his mouth, licking the batter off it.

“More chocolate chips next time, got it.” You said almost in a groan but he didn’t miss the ‘next time’ part. His mind went places. Waking up with you next to him, cuddling until midday, both of you not getting out of bed even if you needed to pee and only till your bellies grumbled that you two would get up to go make some pancakes together, laughter filling the kitchen as he shoves way too many chocolate chips in the mix and you yell at him for being too reckless. 

“I’m feeling fancy for next time, maybe add some blueberries in it? Or, hear me out… marshmallows.” He says and you cringed at the sweetness of it all, but also a small giggle came out of your throat as you flipped the pancake on the pan. 

“That’s a s'mores pancake… You can literally just have S’mores.” You say and you hear him chuckle next to you, as he walks towards the coffee pot, and sees that you had already prepared two empty cups to pour the liquid in. He filled his cup in black coffee, but yours only half. He walked towards your fridge to get your vanilla creamer out, and finally filled the rest of your coffee with it. You didn’t miss the gesture, a strong heat invading your belly and cheeks. 

“It’s not the same! The S’mores have biscuits. Pancakes are fluffier, imagine how much fluffier they would be with marshmallows inside. Honestly, I think we’re onto something here sweetheart.” You flip the pancake onto the stack you had next to the stove and turn it off because you believed five pancakes were fine for the two of you. “Or maybe we can add some mint in them.”

That made your mouth drop open, your head snapping to your side to look at him with widened and disgusted eyes, but you froze again when you saw him. The back of his hip was resting on the counter as he looked at you with a smile to his face, one hand holding a mug, the other was handing you yours. You didn’t realize that you were talking normally to him until now. How did Eddie do it? Every single time? 

“T-Thanks…” You say as you look down from his eyes but it was a bad idea. He was shirtless. Oh, the fucking flashbacks. Your whole body heated up at the memories of your nails going all over his skin, all over his chest, all over his arms. You took a large gulp out of your coffee and you clenched your eyes at the taste. It was the perfect measurement. 

“I had to bring your despise for mint for you to look at me.” He lets out with a small chuckle, taking a sip of his own coffee. You blinked down at your cup, not really knowing where to go from here. Should you apologize? Should you tell him that he should forget about it? But why would you say something so hypocritical when you didn’t want to forget about it? 

“I– I– just don’t know–” You tried to say out loud but your throat went dry at those few words, making you take more sips out of your mug, and he sighed, taking one last sip of his, putting his cup on the counter. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking Angel. I need to know what you’re thinking.” And how do you even begin? You don’t even know what you feel, you don’t even know if it was right, if it was wrong, but the only thing you knew, is that you desired Eddie, that you were attracted to him in ways that not even god could define. But you won’t tell him that, because that’s when you would crawl into a hole and disappear from the world.

“I– I really don’t know– Yesterday… I never–” You blabbered, stuttered, and he was being patient as he looked at you, hands trembling with the cup in between them. He felt his chest about to explode but he still waited, wanting to hear you, to understand you, but he knew your mind was just a jumbled mess, he can hear it in the tremble on your voice and in the way your eyes were going back and forth as if looking for an answer somewhere.

He raised his hand up to place it on the cheek that was not facing him, and you immediately froze again. He leaned down and forward to press a soft kiss on the cheek facing him this time, and your body felt like it melted away, your bones going all soft and wiggly on you, a sigh escaping your lips at the touch of his lips on your skin. For some reason, this gesture made some of the black clouds move away from your mind, leaving some space for clarity, for you to slowly turn your head to face him again as he pulled away from you, his thumb caressing your cheek in gentle circles.

“Do you regret it? Because let me tell you darling, I sure as hell don’t.” Even if your heart wanted to burst into a million pieces from how hard it was beating, your eyes still widened at his words, surprise taking all over your features.

“Y-You don’t?” You asked with a hint of confusion in your tone as well. He licked his lips as his throat closed up on him, but he gulped it down so that he could keep talking. You were just too beautiful right now, looking up at him with those eyes that he adored. 

“I did mean what I said yesterday.” He says and you tilt your head at that, trying to remember everything that was said at the bar, or when you walked your way to it with him, and he smiled at you, pulling his hand off your face, grabbing the mug out of your hands and placing it on the counter next to his. Your eyebrows knitted together at that, looking at the cup leaving your grasp.

“Why—” You began to ask, but when you looked back up at him, your mouth immediately closed, seeing the serious face he had on. It made your heart jump slightly as well as your stomach, not knowing how his smile turned into this serious look. His hand raised to pinch on the side of your shirt with his fingers and tugged you in front of him, almost making you stumble at the sudden jerk. He then pressed that same hand on your waist, firmly, while the other raised up to gently hold your cheek to make you look up at him.

“You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted last night to happen.” He says while looking down at you, his eyes searching for yours as a gasp was caught in your throat, your body heating up at his words and your head was about to look down, but he held you in place, shaking his head at you. “No, keep looking at me.” 

“B-But I didn’t do— I didn’t do anything—” He shook his head again, your eyes trying to avoid his as you talked, now your chest thumping wildly, blood pumping everywhere in your body at a very accelerated pace, and you didn’t notice how your voice was trembling and how you were slowly beginning to shake in his grasp.

“I need you to calm down baby… It’s really just me.” He gave small circles on your cheek, which made your eyes look back at him, your mind going blank. He wanted last night to happen? He wanted to sleep with you? Many questions were going through your mind but only one was voiced out.

“We had sex.” His eyebrows raised up in surprise, a smile appearing on his lips, dimples showing off, but you were still completely bewildered as you blinked at him, your mind just trying to work overtime now for you. “You-You saw me naked, I saw you naked—” 

“Pretty necessary for having sex Angel.” He says with a laugh this time, and that only made your brain simply burn off, steam coming off the top of your head. You gulped as his laughter slowly tuned down, the turning in your belly and the doubt in your mind now cooperating to formulate another question.

“Why— Why with me?” You managed to ask, and that made Eddie’s laugh completely turn off, only for you to continue. “I-I’m just… not—” And he knew who you were comparing yourself to. The clients in the club stood no chance against you, they really didn’t, but you didn’t believe that. He weighed his options, and he decided it would be better to show you.

“You’re not what?” His hand left your cheek to mimic his other one, pressing on your waist, now firmer than before, and he pulled your body flush into his, and your eyes widened up at him. He leaned down close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin, sending shivers down your spine as the fire in your belly ignited once more. “Feel what you do to me by just standing in your kitchen in an oversized white shirt.” 

Against your belly was the same hardness you felt yesterday night on your hip. The one you felt rubbing itself against your center. The one you felt against your thigh when he climbed over towards you. And now, you didn’t have the dress on, your makeup was smudged and you cleaned it up with your fingers as much as you could, you probably smell like sweat… and he still wants you.

He couldn’t help himself, being close to your ear, to your skin, and his mouth instantly pressed a gentle kiss under your earlobe, a gasp coming out of your lips as the touch left your skin burning. You should ask him, you should talk to him, stop and try to think for a second, but that was the problem right now, you didn’t want to, and it seems that he didn’t either. 

His kiss trailed down towards your neck, soft lips pressing against your pulse point, and your hands raised up shakily to hold onto his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin, and his own digits dug into your waist, trying to have a cable back to earth, but his self control was slipping away again the more he took your scent in, the more he tasted you again on his lips. 

More. More. More.

Now that chant was on repeat in his mind as well, at the same time it was happening in yours. He was repeating your actions from yesterday, letting himself go, his mouth doing the work for him, not a single thought running in his head except for the need to hold you again, just running his lips on your skin again.

“I really mean it…” He mumbled in your neck, more kisses being left there as he kissed his way from one side to the other, making your head turn with soft breaths escaping your mouth which was making his brain simply scramble into nothing. “You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted you.” 

His voice was low, and your belly was burning with need again, your hands slowly trailing over his biceps to rest one hand on his shoulder, the other around his neck, pulling him into you, making his kisses turn hungrier, not being able to hold it and sucking on your skin to mark you, to leave you the reminder that this happened between you both, for you to look at it at every hour today, and tomorrow, and he wishes that by the end of today he would be able to retrace his mark again and again, not letting it fade at all, even if weeks went by. 

“Eds—” You softly mumble as a moan escapes your lips, your eyes half lidded as you bathe in his attention. You heard a soft groan against your skin, only for the warmth that was there to simply vanish as he pulled away from you. Before you could complain, before you could ask, before the gears in your brain could start working again, his lips found yours, making your nails grip onto his shoulder even tighter.

He was hungry, and it wasn’t for the pancakes, and he made it known by how he instantly started moving his lips against yours, rough, yet with deepness, with care, swallowing your breaths into his mouth, taking everything he could from you. You didn’t even had time to process what was happening, except for your desire to start talking for you as well, and your brain was simply processing the words ‘Fuck it’.

You started returning his kiss in the same manner, the hand on his neck going to his nape to pull him even deeper into you, your other hand sliding off his shoulder to rub against his bicep and he groaned into you, your touch making his gut turn in excitement, in nervousness, in need, just by you scratching your nails on his skin, not even on an erogenous zone. He sort of cursed you in his head for the way you made him feel like putty in just two seconds and with just one touch.

He ran his tongue over your bottom lip, and your mouth instantly invited him in, a moan of yours escaping into his as his tongue pressed against yours. You felt him even harder against your belly, making the heat in your center reappear at an alarming rate, almost too hot for you to handle. Now that you knew what he could do to you, this burning was even worse than before. It was much, much worse, but you didn’t hate it, you didn’t dislike it and you didn’t want to push it away.

His hands finally moved from your waist, and you gasped into the kiss as you felt his fingertips gliding underneath the hem of your shirt, pulling it up as he finally pressed his hand against your bare back, flushing you into him, and you shivered at how big his palm was against you, how hot it felt, but another gasp escaped you when you felt his other hand cup the round of one of your cheeks, now pressing you against his bottom half even harder.

He moaned in his throat and you melted at the sound, your tongue still dancing with his as his hands pressed against you, rubbed, groped, simply felt as if wanting to remember every part of your skin and body, on how your skin was soft yet warm under his palms. Your minds were filled with one another, not wanting to separate at all, and he needed you again, screw the pancakes, he can eat those later, right after he has you.

He had to guide you to your bedroom, you need to know how much he wants you still, how much he will want you after, and the days to come, and he is certain he is not going to ever get tired of you, not when you taste like this, when you feel like this, when you burn like this. 

He pushed himself off the counter, ready to begin to guide you back to where you both woke up minutes ago. You were going to let him, your belly turning anxiously as you let yourself wanting him again, and maybe this time you can try to make him feel good too. You want to really make him feel good, just like he did yesterday and the other night. You were eager to learn what he liked, eager to hear him moan because of what you do to him, and you never in your life thought you would be eager to do something like that before.

The music of Master of Puppets suddenly filled the room and your eyes opened like plates.

You two pulled away, brows furrowed together as you both looked around to where it was coming from. Eddie finally spotted his jacket on the floor, just where he left it yesterday and he cursed under his breath. He had to let you go to actually answer the phone. 

“Hang on sweetheart.” He gave you a small peck on the lips before letting go of your body, and you just stood there, frozen as you felt the cold hitting your skin again. What happened? How did you go from making pancakes to almost having sex with him once more? How did that happen in such a short lapse of time?

He grabbed his jacket from the floor, grimacing slightly at it because he just left a wet patch on the floor, not letting it dry properly so it was still kind of wet in some folds. He dug into his pocket for his phone, pulling it out to look at the caller ID. He blinked a few times at it and when he didn’t answer is when you turned your head to look at him.

“Eds…?” You called him out, almost breathlessly and he turned to look at you with a small smile on his face.

“I have to get this Angel, I’ll be back.” You watched him put the jacket on the counter to then go back into your room, closing the door behind him. Your breath finally left your lungs, the burning calming down slightly, but not quite. You gulped heavily as you licked your lips, and you knew they were red and plump from the kissing you just did. You couldn’t help but feel… Happy. That’s how you felt, a small smile appearing on your lips.

You didn’t mind your mind shutting off when it came to him, you really didn’t. But the uneasiness of not knowing what all of this meant came back, but not because he was not clarifying it with you. It was because you weren’t being clear with yourself. What did this all mean? Why were you like this? Was this really how simple attraction felt like?

Your ear picked up movement in your room, and you really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you really couldn’t help yourself, and it only took two steps for you to listen to Eddie’s low voice through the door. Even when he wanted to speak in whispers he was loud.

“Yeah, I heard you… I forgot about today, but I can— Yeah…— Okay, see you later then–.” 

You blinked at those words, brows knitting together in confusion. Who was he talking to? You heard more shuffling and you panicked, not wanting him to know you were listening to his conversation and you went back towards the pancakes, now cold and you pretended to prepare a plate for you to put one on when you heard the door open. Your blood pumped in your veins in a wildly manner as you turned to see Eddie with his turtleneck on, boots thumping on your floor as he mumbled curses under his breath. 

“Are you alright?” It was the first question that popped in your head, because he didn’t look happy at all, and seeing him in his clothes again made your mood instantly drop, realizing that he was leaving. 

“Yeah– Um… I have to go… Steve needs me to take him somewhere– Kind of forgot about it.” He says to you with a small smile to his face, almost forced and you stood still in your place, not really knowing what to do. He saw your hesitation, so he took the steps between the both of you, his hands cupping your face, leaning down to place a soft peck on your lips. Your breath hit his face as he pulled away, but lingered over your lips, and you couldn’t help but voice out the first question that came to mind.

“You really have to go?” And Eddie wanted to die right then and there. You didn’t want him to leave, but fuck, he had to go. His knees almost buckled at your voice yet, he nodded with a saddened look on his face.

“Yeah… But we’ll talk later okay? We really do need to talk… Right Angel?” Your eyes locked with his at those words, and your face flushed in a way that wasn’t because of embarrassment, but just pure adoration. You nodded, almost dumbly at his words, making a smile appear on his lips. He gave you a peck on your lips again, not really wanting to go without his dose and he has to quickly pull away before he gets distracted with you once again. 

He pulled away from you and you felt your body completely warm now, not even cold, not even if he pulled away from you. He grabbed onto his jacket with one hand and walked towards the door, opening it to then look towards the counter. He rushed back to grab onto two full pancakes, shoving them in his mouth, the rest still sticking out, making your eyes go wide, afraid he’ll choke.

“Eddie!” He smiled at you with the pancakes between his teeth, winking at you before doing a little jog out of the door, closing it behind him, finally leaving you alone in your home. 

Your hands immediately went towards your mouth, covering it to contain your screams, afraid that he was still out there. You were feeling so many things at one single moment. Nervousness, fear, happiness, indecisiveness, embarrassment, delight, and arousal. All of that was happening in one single moment which was making your heart rate pick up even more than before.

You were going to have a stroke by the end of the day, you knew that. And he wants to talk. What does he want to talk about? What are you supposed to talk about? What are you supposed to say? To feel? How do you even start the conversation with him? What is going to be your new normal? What did you want it to be?

You absentmindedly grabbed onto one pancake and took a bite out of it, only to spit it out onto the plate in disgust. 

It was the burnt one.

He hasn’t spoken to you all day, and that made you anxious. It’s already 7 PM, and it’s his day off, so he should be available, right? You could message him, but what do you even want to say? Hi? How are you? How was your day?

There is no way you could be normal with this, you can’t act normal, not when you had to actually clean your room after yesterday’s night. Not when you discovered the ball of paper on the night table that wasn’t yours, only to open it up and find the used condom inside, and that made your memories just hit you like a car at great speed, almost knocking you over.

How can you act normal after that?

Your phone started ringing, the ringtone of The Shire started going off and your heart leaped, and you rushed from your room towards your kitchen where the noise was coming from, grabbing it from the counter, only for your face to frown into a disappointed one seeing it was Robin. That made you feel a little bit guilty, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when you’ve been waiting all these hours for him to talk to you again. You slid the button to answer her, her face coming up on the screen, a big smile on her lips.

“Hi Rob–”

“SHE SAID YES!” That startled you, completely, almost throwing the phone to the floor. You blinked a few times as you regained the posture, as Robin’s blabbering kept going on the phone and you raised a hand towards your camera to stop her.

“Robs, Robs– I don’t understand a word you’re saying, where are you?” You frowned at seeing her on what appeared to be the mall, just walking while talking to you.

“Vickie said yes to my date!” She says excitedly and your chest warms up with joy, a smile spreads on your lips as you start bouncing in your place, and she mimics you, both of you looking completely dumb but you didn't care, nor did she.

"Holy shit!" You yell with her as you spin in your place and she laughs, a vibrant blush on her cheeks as she looks at you.

"I know!" She yells again and probably caught the attention of many people that were walking near her and you hear her say a small 'sorry' to someone, making you giggle.

"How did it happen?" You asked her, going to sit on your couch, excitement clear in your voice. She was still with a smile on her face, almost crazy looking, making you laugh at her face.

"She called me to ask me about something; I really don't even remember what it was, I think it was something about a recipe? Anyways, at the end of it I just– She just looked too pretty, you have no idea, and I blurted it out." You covered your mouth with your hand as shock washed over you. You never really imagined Robin to be straightforward, but it seems she bursted at the seams.

"Wow Robin… Why are you in the mall? When is it? Where are you both going?" The questions blurted out of your mouth like a machine gun, making Robin blush even more.

"We are going to the movies tonight, and I am getting something different than what I always wear, because I realized all my clothes look the fucking same, and maybe– Do I get her some roses? Chocolates? I’ve never been on a formal date, I don’t know how this works, I am losing my mind–”

“Robin, Jesus calm down, I bet that Vickie doesn’t care, she already said yes to a date, knowing it wasn’t a friendly outing.” You tell her and she seemed to calm down with that, giving you a soft nod as if in understanding.

“You are right… God, I just– I just like her so much…” You can see Robin’s dreamy eyes as she enters one of the stores, scanning all of the clothes that might be there, but your mind starts to wander. Robin didn’t know anything, not even that you kissed Eddie. Maybe she did because she’s friends with Steve, but she never really said anything about it… But–

“Robs?” You call out to her, heart thumping in your ears as you let your words come out of your mouth.

“Yeah?” She was still looking above the camera, and you could hear the hangers simply moving from side to side as she browsed. You cleared your throat and licked your lips, stammering a bit in your words as you tried to word your thoughts without giving yourself away.

“How do you even know it is not a simple attraction? What you feel for Vickie.” You say to her, biting on your tongue almost as the nerves in your belly started spiraling as she looked quizzically down at the phone.

“What?”

“I never experienced it, so– I mean, liking someone is simply being attracted to them, right?” 

“Oh honey, no.” You sat frozen at that, blinking at the phone, your whole body just completely still on your couch as you processed her words. What? When you didn’t answer, she continued talking. “You start with attraction, then it develops into something else.”

Your heart picked up a pace again, and the hand holding the phone was growing quite the sweat. What did she mean by that? Why does it feel like she is saying something that you needed to hear? Why does it feel like she is caging you? 

“And how do you even know that?” You manage to ask, and your mind for some reason is afraid of the answer. Afraid to finally come to terms with something you thought it was going to be impossible for you. 

“Well, you are still attracted to them, but… You want to know about them, wake up with them by your side… I don’t know, I guess– When you are with them, and you can laugh afterwards, but still want them later on… You just want— More.”

Your eyes widened as plates at that, heart finally coming to a stop.

More. More. More.

“Oh god…” You let those words come out as a soft breath, Robin not really hearing you, too busy finding a shirt for her date, while you were having a complete breakdown on this discovery of yours. You found the word for your feelings. The word that scares you even at the deep of your gut. The word that you don’t even know if it’s reciprocated, and you are scared to even know if it is.

And now you came to realize that it’s not recent. It’s not something that happened after the first kiss even. Even when he hugged you, you always wanted more. When he held your hand, you always wanted more. When he laughed with you and you didn’t want it to ever stop, you just wanted more. It was never enough, it could never be enough, not when it came to him. You were screwed.

You fell for Eddie. Deeply. 

Your body trembled with realization, with desperation to have him back with you because now that you know what name to put on your feelings, you just felt this incredible need of having him, shower him with affection, not even be nervous around him, you just needed to hold him again, kiss him again, touch him again, spend time with him again. 

You were nervous, anxious even, but there was still hope in your heart, hope that he feels the same for you, hope that he wants you more than just friendship. He wants to talk to you about what happened yesterday, he wants to talk it out and now you know where you are headed. Now you know how to start the conversation. Now you know what to tell him. 

“Hey, you there?” You hear Robin, making you snap completely out of your thoughts, blinking rapidly at the screen. Your friend had a small smirk on her lips, or you thought she had it, because it fell down as soon as you looked at the camera.

“Y-Yeah, I just– I remembered I have to um… get some ingredients for today’s dinner. I have nothing in my fridge.” You manage to blurt out the lie, but in your head you were already making plans, not being able to hold your words back, knowing where to go now.

“Oh, then if it’s that… Go to the grocery store… I’ll tell you everything after my date, okay?” Robin had a knowing smile on her face as she spoke to you and you really wanted to question her if she knew, but it was going to be a conversation that would take too long and you needed to run out of your apartment right at this very second.

“Yeah! I hope everything goes well Robs!” You say quickly, kind of feeling guilty for squashing over your friend’s success but it seems as if Robin didn’t really mind it, waving at you.

“Hopefully! Talk to you later!” And you said a soft ‘bye’ and hung up the call. You blinked a few times at the phone. Should you call him? Tell him– No, he has his day off. Your legs started working again as your breathing became erratic with emotion, with excitement, never in your life feeling this way before.

You finally know what everyone meant when they talked about crushes, and love. You never felt that excitement, never felt that interest, never really believed they were telling you the truth about it, but now you know it is, because your heart was exploding but in such a good way, in a perfect way that only Eddie managed to do. 

Your feet took you to your room to throw on a pair of jeans, changing from your pajama pants, and then a random shirt, changing it from your oversized shirt that you were still wearing since the morning because it still held Eddie’s scent. His perfume stuck to the collar of the fabric and you whimpered when you took it off, but you had to be quick. You almost fell on your ass when you wiggled yourself forcefully into your sneakers.

You didn’t even grab your purse, just your phone and your car and house keys. You never ran so fast out of the complex and towards your car, with a smile plastered on your face all the while. When you sat yourself in front of the steering wheel, you couldn’t even believe what you were doing, what your feet were taking you, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore, just like last night.

Last night you finally exploded, wanting to finally feel him entirely, and the fact that you want, NEED more, is a sign that you have to talk it out, say that to him, say that you want more, be honest and let yourself go. Your keys got into the ignition hole, and you took a deep breath as you started your journey into the streets, your heart in your throat pumping quicker as you approached your destination.

You were probably insane, you were probably going to make a scene, and you didn’t even know how to word anything of what you were feeling properly, but you were sure you were going to say everything to him. You knew you had to. No matter how it comes out of your mouth, no matter what you have to do to get your words through, you will try and you will tell him that you like him, that you are falling for him, that you might even already have fallen to the deep end.

You parked right in front of his complex, and an old man was opening the main door to the lobby, making you rip yourself from the seatbelt and bolting out of your car, pressing the lock button over your shoulder as you reached the door, holding it open for the old man who thanked you as you anxiously waited for him to go through. Once he did, you ran towards the elevators, pressing the buttons desperately.

You looked at the numbers going down and you were chanting ‘come on, come on’ under your breath. Once the metal doors opened, you ran inside, quickly pressing his apartment’s button, almost to the point of breaking it. The door closed and you took many deep breaths in, but a smile was on your face as your ears rang from the excitement. You weren’t even thinking of the possibility of rejection, you just wanted this feeling to be known, for him to know, for him to understand.

The doors opened and you took a slow step out as you stared at his apartment door. Was this the right decision? Right now? Not even messaging him to tell him you were coming over? He had errands to run today, what if he is not home yet? But the light underneath the door frame told you otherwise, sparking your excitement once again. You walked towards the door, and took one last deep breath in. This was it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You waited, deep breaths coming out of your lips as you waited, rocking on the balls of your feet, back and forth, and that’s when you heard shuffling on the other side of the door, a sniffle, slippers sliding against the wooden floor, and a click of the lock was heard. When it opened, you found a very sick Steve Harrington in front of you, red nose and all, hair all over the place, his blue robe on his body and your eyes widened at the sight.

“Shit, Steve, are you okay?” You ask him and he was almost wobbly, greeting you with your name and nodding. He actually took so many tylenol and dayquil that his mind was just trying to survive at this point.

“Yeah, peachy, never felt greater in my life…” You winced at his sarcasm and he sniffled holding himself with his hand on the doorframe, his eyes completely droopy from the mucus that was on his sinus. “What brings you here, sweetness?” You straightened up again at his question, but you tilted your head in question this time, remembering that Eddie told you he had to take Steve somewhere… maybe the hospital?

“Oh, I just— I came to see Eddie.” Steve scoffed at that, and sniffled again.

“He is not here.” He says and you tilt your head in confusion again. Maybe he went to grab something to eat?

“Oh, I just assumed it’s his day off so…” You mentioned to him, and you were hoping you would get the information out of his mouth, a mouth that at this moment had no filter, and no rationality or perception.

“He must be with a client.” He says and you just blink up at him, and your mind for some reason was telling you that you should leave, that you should not hear any longer, that you have to run from there, but your feet never moved.

“A client?” You choke out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible and Steve wobbles a bit, trying to focus on your face, but failing to do so. He waved his hand around as he explained himself.

“Yeah, his second job. He did tell you about it right?”

“The job… that…”

“Private meetings with clients. Mainly sex really.” 

Your heart dropped at that, falling right into your stomach. You were staring at Steve as if he had just stabbed you with a sword, just impaling you without any kind of mercy, and the gears in your mind started working, but instead of moving forward, they went backwards. Your hands were starting to tremble, not wanting to believe what Steve was saying.

“That– Today?” You choke out, holding a sob in your throat as your knees start to give up on you. This couldn’t be happening, not right after the best night of your life, not after realizing what you felt for him, not after he said those things to you.

“Yeah, I mean, sometimes we do it for money, sometimes just for pleasure, so that’s why I don’t know when he’ll be back.” He blurts out and that’s when your world stopped.

He lied. He lied to you. He said he was going with Steve today, but Steve is too sick to even move… The call– The words you heard– You wanted to vomit, nausea washing over your stomach as the puzzle came together in your head, slowly, and when it finally clicked, when it all clicked.

And your eyes couldn’t look at Steve’s face any longer.

“O-Oh, y-yeah, he told me, I must have forgotten…” Your voice was small, your body shaking as your gaze couldn’t handle Steve’s neck, nor his chest, nor his legs, until you were entirely looking at the floor. Your body was shaking almost, and you had to run away. You had to leave. You were suffocating. You needed air.

“Do you want me to–” You didn’t even let him finish his sentence, taking a step back from him as his cologne invaded your sense of smell.

“No. He– He will make fun of my… poor memory… Um… Don’t tell him I came here, I’ll… just message him later.” Your voice became smaller and smaller at each word that came out of your lips, and Steve, poor Steve, was so out of it that he didn’t notice anything wrong. 

“Okay, see you later Sweetness.” Your body almost gagged and jerked forward at the nickname, but you stayed put, still looking at the floor. Your mind was shutting down, you needed to leave.

“B-Bye.” You couldn’t even say his name as you turned around, walking back towards the elevator and pressing the button to go down, hearing the door closing before your metal doors shut together. Your eyes were still on the floor, not daring to look up as you tried, you really tried to make those last words disappear from your brain, but they were on repeat, and your body was numb.

You felt numb, automatic, going towards your car, and you don’t even remember starting it, you don’t remember how you even got to your complex, you don’t remember if you locked your car or not as you entered your apartment, your lost gaze just not centering on anything. You threw the keys on the counter, just simply dropping them somewhere as your feet slowly took you towards the bathroom. 

He has a second job. He has a sex working job. And he has had it even before he met you, and he never quit it, and Steve said that he does it for pleasure sometimes. Was this one of the times? Right after last night with you? Maybe there was a mistake? Maybe that’s not what Eddie’s doing? 

But he wasn’t home, and the fact was that he still has that job. He still does it because Steve said it as if it were a frequent thing. How many times have you messaged him or talked to him while he was with a client? Did he go to them after kissing you? Touching you? Sleeping with you? Were you not good? Were you not enough? Were you simple? Were you too complicated? 

You took a deep breath in, trying to calm your heart, feeling it ripping at your chest, urging to come out of your body, to cry out, to yell into the sky and mourn. Your guts were twisting painfully, and you held your stomach just in case you had to turn around to empty your stomach out, because your world was spiraling all around you and it was making you dizzy. 

Why didn’t he ever tell you about this job? Why wasn’t he honest with you from the very beginning? Maybe if he did you wouldn’t have fallen for him. Maybe if he did you would have been more cautious. Maybe if he did you wouldn’t feel like this, this sick, this dizzy, this broken. Why would he hide it from you? 

You looked at your hands and saw that they were shaking at a very quick pace and you knew you were on the brink of a nervous breakdown, you could feel it. You held your chest as you tried to take deep breaths in and out again, trying to calm yourself down, trying to make everything make sense once again, trying to find a reasonable reason for everything, if there was any.

You turned to look at the sink, turning the faucet on and hunching downwards to finally wash your face, trying to make the cold water make you snap out of how bad your head was starting to hurt, how your throat felt like it was closing up at an alarming rate, and your oxygen felt like it was starting to run short. Your lungs were compressed inside your chest, making it slightly painful but nothing hurt more than your heart.

You straightened up with a heavy breath, a long pained huff, shakiness evident as you gripped onto the sink and finally, your eyes looked at your reflection. Every movement in your body stopped. Every tremble, every thought, every blood cell going through your veins, just everything froze as you stared at yourself… And the gears in your head started going backwards, even further, deeper, darker.

He lied to you. He lied to you. He lied to you. 

You were never good enough, you were never going to compare, and somehow you always knew that, yet… He made you feel beautiful, confident in your clothes, confident in your makeup, confident in the way you spoke, in the way you expressed yourself, in the way you moved. He helped you. He helped you. Helped you.

HE SHAPED YOU.

“No…” You tried telling yourself as your body started rocking back and forth, not wanting to listen to your own brain, not wanting to hear the horrible things that it was saying about him because you were certain that he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t do it, he didn’t seem capable of doing that. There was no evidence of him planning something like that.

But… He did say he always wanted to have you ‘like this’. Did he mean under him? Did he mean sexually? Did he mean… as if you were a conquest? A prize? You shook your head again, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be, not your Eddie, not your sweet and patient Eddie. Not the Eddie that made you feel like heaven yesterday, not the Eddie that made your life happier than it ever did before. 

Yet, if he did go to that appointment with a private client today, did it mean he wanted to be with someone experienced? That he wanted to be with someone that knows what they’re doing? Someone prettier? Someone that actually makes him feel good? Someone that knows how to actually do that without asking? A regular? 

HE GOT YOU. HE’S DONE.

No. No. No. It isn’t like that, it wasn’t a one time thing. It was never a one time thing. It shouldn’t have been a one time thing, you weren’t going to let your brain stain every memory you had of him, because in the end he was a great friend. A great friend who lied to you, a great friend that shaped you into what he liked, a great friend that you fell for.

You were trying to deny it, you were trying really hard, you can still talk to him, you can still ask him if it were true, but you knew it was, you knew that he was fucking other people, you knew that you weren’t special, you knew he didn’t feel the same as you did. Your mind was hazy now, dark patches blocking your eyesight as you felt the all too well burning sensation in them. 

Your breathing started coming out of your mouth in huge gasps as you rocked back and forth, still looking at your reflection, looking at who you were now, looking at how different you are from before, looking at what you thought was what you actually wanted to look like… But what if it was never that? What if it was a plan all along? What if he saw it as a challenge? What if you were a challenge and he just wanted you perfect to his taste? This wasn’t you. This wasn’t you. This isn’t you.

HE MOLDED YOU.

A rough groan ripped from your throat as you pushed yourself away from the sink, tumbling out of the bathroom and rushing towards your kitchen, almost breaking a drawer out as you took your plastic bags out, your breathing heavy, angry, chest puffing out and down again, pain rushing all over your body like a sharp electric sting, hurting every place, every joint, every organ. Your feet ran towards your room as you looked all around, your eyes red from burning, your mind now in a dark cloud full of thunder. 

You opened a plastic bag and rushed towards your vanity, putting your hand on the desk to start dragging every makeup product you bought for the past two months, grunts and pained whines escaping your throat as you pushed every mascara, lipstick, blush down into the bag.

You opened the drawers of it, now grabbing onto every piece of accessory you got, every little summer scarf he told you that looked good on you, every single thing he complimented you in was going into the bag. You can’t use that, you never used that, you didn’t know how to use any of this, so why keep lying, why keep being someone you are not for the sake of someone else?

You angrily pushed yourself off the vanity, making it rock back and forth and you stared now at your closet. You immediately grabbed another bag and you rushed towards it, flinging it open in a desperate move, getting hold of all the shirts he told you would look good in. All the jeans he helped you buy. All the sweaters he told you will look good on you in the winter.

Your tears were now running down your eyes as you threw each article of clothing into the bag, leaving behind your old stuff, your old shirts, your old jeans, your old pants, who you truly were, where you truly belonged. Secure, safe, and comfortable. You then flung the other side of the closet and your eyes widened when you saw all the jackets you never thought of buying before.

Everything was being taken off the hanger and thrown into a new bag, everything had to go, everything that reminded you of him had to go. Everything that smelled remotely like him, anything that held a memory of him had to go. All the skirts, one by one were being thrown into the bag, the shorts as well, and then the dresses. Things you never wore before in your life, the only time being your prom night. 

You started ripping them out of your closet, throwing them all into a new bag, until you finally held onto one garment. A very specific one. You looked at it as you were about to throw it in, the purple color catching your eye as you straightened up to hold onto it with both of your hands. Tears came down your cheeks as you stared at the purple dress in your grasp.

Your first ever article of new clothing. The first time he complimented you. The first time he twirled you. The first time he took you in. The first time you felt confident in something you never wore before… And it was all fake. Everything was fake. He saw you as a hard conquest, and he got you, and even shaped you into what he wanted, making you desirable for him. 

You sobbed harshly as you let your emotions finally rip from your chest, as you came down from your anger, from your thunder and all that was left was heavy rain. All that’s left is this pain in your chest of your first time feeling something you never thought you would feel, only to be ripped away seconds later. All that’s left… it’s this purple dress.

And you will still throw it into the bag.

End of part 7

A/N: I know it isn't as long as last one or the ones before, but next one is the last chapter, so... I hope I didn't hurt you all too much with this.

I hope you liked this chapter and always reblog your artists!

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[mistyresolve]

Could you do a part 2 of "Takedown" with actual smut please? it was so good 💗

| Close Quarters

Word Count - 2.2k

Summary - It's Friday, which means you'll be busy later today helping out Ghost with his training. Only, you didn't expect to see him as early as 4 am. Nor did you expect him to leave you breathless and on the verge of begging for more.

Tags/Warnings - 18+ Smut, Dirty talk, Heavy petting, slight Voyeurism, Grinding, and Edging?

A/N - I could take him...just not in a fight

Takedown

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It was 4 a.m. by the time you got to the training room; most of the lights still turned off for the night. Leaving only the front half of the room illuminated, the back half was visible but still shadowed. Which was fine, it was the reason you came here at this hour. There was never anyone else to worry about or share equipment with. It allowed you time to think. Focus. Work through the stresses of the week without interruptions. 

That was how your days normally started. 

Unless there was someone else lurking in the shadows of the gym. Like there was today. 

A large dark form was hanging from the pull-up bars, their ankles crossed over each other. Hammering out pull-ups like they were nothing. They hadn’t noticed you come in, their attention on their reflection in the mirror to monitor their form and technique. They were wearing a hoodie, large enough to conceal what muscle might be hiding beneath it. The hood up. 

You squinted at the reflection in the mirror to try and catch a glimpse of who it might be. Only their face was half covered. 

If the male wasn’t wearing shorts you might have just shrugged it off and started on your own workout. For if it weren’t for said shorts you would have missed the familiar tattoos on his right leg. A patchwork of art that descended past his sock and disappeared under his shorts. He explained some of them to you once. Your eyes fell to one in particular. A statue of a female body. Her wings outstretched behind her and curving around his thigh. Her strength was still perceptible despite her head and arms being missing, those pieces of her departed her during sometimes of the statue's lifetime. 

A hauntingly beautiful depiction of The Winged Victory of Samothrace. 

When you asked him to explain that tattoo, Simon shrugged and stated that he “simply liked it”.  

He lowered himself back to the ground, noiseless aside from the soft tap of his shoes hitting the floor. He rested his hands on his hips, his wide shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath. 

You debated slipping out of the training room before he saw you. Turned in your direction before you could make up your mind. He was reaching for the towel hanging on the bench behind his when he froze. His eyes find yours in the dark. The was no shock or surprise in his expression. 

Then you realized you could see his expression. 

He was still wearing a mask, just not the one he normally wore. This one was an altitude mask. Designed to mimic the effects of high-altitude environments and restrict airflow to the user, forcing the lungs to work harder. Commonly used for conditioning. 

You tried it once. Nearly died. 

Simon was doing a better job at handling the effects of the mask than you did, but he was still heaving for breath. 

You raised a hand to him in “hello”, offering him a small smile. 

He pulled earbuds from his ears, the sound of his music audible from where you stood. Well, there’s the reason as to why he didn’t hear you come in.  

“What are you doing up?” his voice was muffled slightly from the mask. 

You dropped your gym bag on the floor next to a bench of your own, “Same reason as you, I suppose,” you took a seat, kicking off your slides, “You sleep well?” 

He shook his head as he made his way over to you, “Didn’t sleep at all. You?” He definitely looked tired, something you could see even in the dark. His accent always gets a little thicker when he is nearing his limit. His words slurred together, a verbal representation of what his thoughts felt like. 

As he neared, you could make out more of his face. He looked younger than you had imagined. Softer, even. He still looked like a battle-hardened male, with strong edges and chiselled features. Just…less pirate-esque. 

He was handsome. From what you could see.   

You had to force yourself to look away from him. This was the most of his face you’d seen and it felt like you were seeing him naked. It felt personal.    

“Just an early bird. Did you just get here?” you toed into your shoes, leaning down to tighten the laces. You felt flurry butterflies in your stomach when his own shoes came into your line of vision. His proximity had you reminding yourself to behave. You’d had boyfriends and lovers before, but none of them made your toes curl like Simon Riley did. None of them made you dizzy with a mere look your way.   

“Got here a little while ago,” it was strange to see him outside of the usual military garb. It was stranger that it was strange. You’ve been working with the 141 for almost a year now and don’t know any more about him now than you did when you met him. You understood his personality and the complexity of him. His mannerisms have also become familiar to you, but you didn’t know very much about his civilian life. Or his life before the army.

He leaned his shoulder into the wall next to you, his arms crossed over his chest, “What are you working on?”

“Just cardio today, I’m still a little sore from you throwing me around the other day,” that and later today you’d be back to helping him with his training, “How much longer do you plan on being here?” 

“Sick of me already?” 

“No. Not at all,” you breathed out a laugh and looked up at him from your seat. His eyes were heavy as he looked down at you. You didn’t allow yourself to decipher whether it was from exhaustion or something a little more carnal. He was close enough to you that if you slid off the bench and onto your knees you’d be at just the right height to—

“I’m meeting up with Price in an hour,” his rumbling voice snapped you out of your fantasy.

You stood up from the bench, turning to face him fully. He watched your every move with fervored intent, his gaze dragging down your body, “Why? What do you need?” he drawled. 

The air in the room turned heavy as the two of you exchanged desperate, wordless pleas. This wasn’t the first time you and him found yourselves in this situation. Both of you fighting the urge to devour the other. Neither was brave enough to take the first step. 

He had an hour…

You took a step closer, close enough that if you lifted a finger you’d touch him. He stilled attention wholly on you now. With chilled fingers you lifted the hem of his sweater, running them up his still sweat-covered skin. You could feel his muscles retract at your cold touch, but he leaned into this feeling rather than pull away. He hissed and his eyes squeezed shut, his expression wanton. You dragged your nails across his chest, and one of his hands shot out to grasp yours, “What do you need?” he asked again, this time his voice dripped with honey.

…You could work with an hour. 

“You,” you breathed, the hand he left free sliding down to his waistband. You stopped before going further, head tilting to the side. You weren’t going to go any further until he said it was okay. 

He began to nod his head, “Take what—”

The doors to the training room creaked open and entered a soldier. His head was down, bobbing to whatever music was playing in his earbuds. The room was too dark for him to see you two clearly back here, but panic still exploded in your chest. You jumped back from Ghost like his skin burned you, your gazes locked onto each other. His eyes were wide. Wild with excitement and shock. You had a feeling your expression matched his. 

The soldier walked into the bathroom, blissfully unaware of the two shadows at the back of the room. Who were mere moments away from heavy petting and grinding. 

Your mood deflated, but when you turned back to Ghost, his breaths were coming in fast. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He had been eager for you to touch him. The heavy bulge outlining his shorts was evidence enough. You feared your blush was bright enough that it was glowing. 

“Ghost,” you started but he was already reaching for you, pulling you until you were flush with him. Where you could feel his hard length for yourself, feel it press into your abdomen. He made an experimental roll of his hips, searching for any time of friction.

“How quiet can you be?” he huffed, his hands sliding from your arm to your ass, lifting you to your tippy toes so your core was closer to his. 

You stifled your moan with a hand, which should have been answer enough, “Not very.” 

Then he was moving, “Grab your stuff,” he was already moving to grab yours when his phone rang. The noise was offensive, and he swore when he took it out of his pocket. He shot you an apologetic look before answering, “Captain,” the heat in between your legs studdered and annoyance took its place. You could see his own frustrations at the situation, and at whatever Price had to say, “Sounds like a shitshow.” 

You plopped back down on the bench, defeated. Price would be whisking Ghost away now. When Ghost turned around to you one more time, you saw your opportunity. You quickly lifted the front of your shirt, flashing him. 

First, there was shock, but it was quickly followed by a cheeky grin. Not that you could see it, but you could tell it was hiding beneath that mask. He reached out a hand, his fingers dancing across your exposed skin. You shuddered underneath him as he rubbed a thumb across your hardening nipple. You bit down on your lip to keep the moan from spilling from your mouth. 

“Yeah,” he spoke into the phone, but his eyes were on you, analyzing your every action and reaction to him. You arched into him, and he immediately understood. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hands dropped to between your legs, pressing your fingers into your weeping cunt through your pants. A wet spot already appearing. Your other hand covered his cock, using your whole hand to rub at him. 

He groaned but quickly covered it by clearing his throat, his brows knit together, “Understood,” he promptly hung up the phone. He jerked his chin at you, and ordered “Let me see.” 

You spread your legs apart, fingers still making slow circles. He grabbed at both your wrists, holding them away from both yours and his body. 

“You have no idea how bad I want you right now,” he growled.

“But you have to go,” you taunted. 

If Price called him at this time of day, it was probably urgent. Especially if they were going to meet in an hour anyway. 

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know you were right, “You’re not to touch yourself until we’re alone again.” 

He had every intention of finishing this off. He just needed to go deal with whatever Price was needing him for. And he wanted you to be desperate for it when it happened. He wanted you to be thinking about him all day. He wanted you to be a mess for him. 

“How long will that take?” you twisted your hips, bringing yourself to the edge of the seat, using it you grind yourself on. He yanked you up off the chair. He wasn’t going to allow you to have any sort of pleasure. 

“I’ll be back for the training this afternoon,” he maneuvered you both so you were standing in front of the mirror, your arms now pinned behind your back, shirt still hiked up. Your chest, fully exposed. He towered over you from behind, his presence remained domineering. You watched yourself in the mirror. The position was entirely submissive. Vulnerable. He had barely done anything and you already looked fucked out. 

He pulled your arms tighter so your back bowed, his free hand coming to cup a breast, squeezing hard, “Say it,” he ran his hand to your inner thigh, this thumb grazing your now throbbing pussy. 

“I won’t touch myself,” you were about to start begging him.  

“That’s a good girl,” he purred. 

The soldier from before walked back out of the bathroom having changed into his workout clothes. 

Ghost made no move to cover you back up. The soldier still had yet to notice you two at the back but your heart still hammered against your chest. Adrenaline flooded your bloodstream once more.  

Finally, he pulled down the front of your shirt for you before letting go of your wrists. You nearly collapsed to the floor, your knees threatening to betray you. He guided you back to the bench, “Get out of here before I change my mind and I end up being late.” 

Hand to Hand

A/N - I have every intention of making a third part to this. But I want to make this as immersive as possible so you guys are going to have to wait just like the reader 😈

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[kuroshika]

[ sorbet, 01×07 - long analysis below the cut. ] || [ tags: @lesbian-hannibal @shatteredlesbian @7x16pm ] || [ tumblr has refused to post this twice now and im giving up after this attempt. ]

—————

this episode, we're introduced to franklyn. he seems like a one-off side character who introduces us to the next villain, but his character seems to be a little bit more than that. he's eager to be hannibal's friend, and the rejection he feels when hannibal pushes those professional boundaries is a reflection of hannibal's actions towards will.

franklyn finds hannibal interesting. he thinks they'd be great friends, and is actively trying to form a relationship. this is a direct mirror of how hannibal feels about will — he finds will interesting, and thinks they'd be great friends, so he's actively trying to push will's professional boundaries. this rejection that franklyn feels is the same that hannibal feels.

hannibal's pause and redirection here is interesting. though he may not be getting paid for will's visits, it definitely might be sad to think that will is only seeing him as mandated - it makes hannibal upset that will sees him only because he has to (as shown when poor hannibal sits in his office and pouts when will is late for his session near the end of the episode).

he has intimate knowledge of will, and wants to be his friend because of it - an opposite (but reflection) of franklyn's attempts to be his friend. looking at franklyn, speaking to him, is sort of like speaking to himself. franklyn seems to be a less fine-tuned version of hannibal.

"tobias is my best friend, but i am not tobias's best friend". this sounds pretty similar to our weak relationship with will — hannibal sees will as his friend, will doesn't see hannibal as his friend, and will did take a higher interest in the ripper (and by extension, hannibal). i think here is where hannibal begins to realize the parallel between franklyn and tobias's relationship, and his and will's, as observed by the question he asks. "have you put him on a pedestal?"

in recognizing the reflection of the relationship he's chasing with will, hannibal is using his own therapy for himself - things make more sense when you tell someone else about them, out loud. he can help himself under the guise of helping franklyn if all goes to plan - and it does. franklyn agrees that he does, but also that he (and tobias) hold hannibal on a higher pedestal.

"i am a source of stability and clarity, franklyn, not your friend". this is the first time in the show hannibal adamantly refuses that he's someone's friend. he does the chasing, not the running. having such a reflection approach him to further their already precarious relationship is nothing but a problem.

franklyn assures him that he'd be a great friend, before swiftly changing the subject. the michael jackson tangent seems kinda kooky, and i skipped over it on my first watch-through, but i think i can make some deeper connections now. "you know what i think makes me the most sad about him dying? i will never get to meet him". ever since hannibal was introduced to will (or, rather, the exterior of his mental curtains), he's known there was something lurking beneath the surface. he's taken it as his mission to draw whatever will hides behind those curtains out, to see underneath his mask — to show him his becoming (as referenced in 1×05 "coquilles", when the angel maker tells will "i couldn't bring it out of you," to which will agrees "not all the way" (which feels like a callback to 1×02 "amuse-bouche", when hannibal only manages to draw will out half-way and have him admit that he enjoyed killing hobbs), and the angel maker offers "i can give you your becoming".). hannibal knows that the longer he waits to approach will, the closer the shadow behind the curtains comes to being repressed completely — the closer it comes to dying, in hannibal's mind, dying before he can meet him.

franklyn obviously has a savior complex, yet another reflection of hannibal — as shown in his prolific identity as a surgeon, and his tableaus as the ripper. his words are very familiar to hannibal, who feels that if will allows him to be his friend, he could stop him from killing part of himself. hannibal can see the correlation and prompts him on gently — how is franklyn's efforts returned? how will his own be returned?

franklyn's fantasy ends with him being the one to touch greatness, very much how hannibal's ends with him getting close to will — whom he already knows is great. he gets to be the one who draws will out into the light, he gets to be the one who sees will for who he truly is. he gets to touch greatness.

skipping over bedelia and hannibal's visit (mostly because i have a longer analysis for that scene and im already rambling), we cut to hannibal and will.

here we have hannibal, yet again, asking if they're friends. usually, will is unhesitant in assuring him they aren't, but here, it's a little different. he's gotten too familiar with whatever relationship he and hannibal have, and that part of him behind the curtains strains for more. if he says they are, there's a sense of intimacy that will isn't prepared for (especially not with someone he can't feel). if he says they aren't, however, he feels like he'll lose that sense of codependency they have. hannibal won't need him, won't want his company any longer (though it's reassured in 1×08 "fromage" that he appreciates his company). he'll be a professional curiosity— the same thing he is to alana (as, again, instated in 1×08).

so, instead he says yes to both. in agreeing that their relationship is not professional (and establishing their friendship), will is avoiding that sense of intimacy that comes with being someone's friend while still profiting off of their codependent relationship.

will reasserts control of the conversation by assuring that they're just having conversations. hannibal has been established as will's friend, and asserts himself as will's friend here — by repeating that he is a friend, and reminding will that the two share an intimate bond that has begun to blur the line between friendship and family.

whether will likes it or not, he's established that he's hannibal's friend. he's already intertwined with hannibal in a way that no one else is — he can feel the ripper strain under hannibal's person suit (or, as bedelia more aptly calls it this episode, his veil). he can sense what hannibal is, and part of him wants to get closer and wrap itself around whatever lays beyond the veil. i think this scene also offers the tipping point for hannibal's qualms about murdering franklyn — they are nothing alike anymore. will is his friend. the chase is over. he cannot help himself by helping franklyn - his death will be no loss.

[sixhours]

One Day at a Time - Chapter 8 - Beginning

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

The midwife is the first to notice that Anna’s startle reflex is inconsistent. When she suggests the baby might be deaf, Joel wants to write it off as the woman’s usual dour attitude, but as the weeks pass, it becomes clear that something is different. It’s impossible to make enough noise to wake her, she doesn’t turn her head toward their voices, and she’s inconsolable when they’re out of her limited line of sight. They spend several sleepless nights worrying, making loud noises and watching Anna intently for responses that usually don’t come.

There’s nothing to do about it, though, except wait and see…like her pregnancy all over again. One day at a time.

Anna is most content when she’s tucked into the soft cloth wrap, held tight against someone’s chest, where she can feel the soothing purr of speech against her tiny body. They get adept at going about their daily routines with the baby strapped to them like a marsupial in a makeshift pouch. She especially seems to like Joel’s soft flannel shirts and his deep, rumbly voice–he’s the best at getting her to nap.

Or, as Ellie puts it, boring her to sleep .

Ellie spends more time with them, enamored with her baby sister in a way Joel couldn’t have predicted. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, having watched her with Sam all those months ago, but her fierce devotion to this brand-new person in their lives makes him light-headed with pride.

Baby things showed up at their house out of the blue in the days after Anna was born; an antique cradle, bottles, more diapers, and a breast pump contraption that Charlie says makes her feel like a dairy cow. There are enough clothes to outfit a small army and mystery casseroles lining their freezer for weeks.

Tonight he takes one of the casseroles out and sniffs at it warily.

“Not sure about this one, kid,” he says to Anna, strapped to his chest. “Can’t be worse than that tuna surprise thing, though. House smelled for a week.”

The baby makes a soft cooing noise and sticks out her tongue in response.

“Yeah? Well, you didn’t have to eat it,” he mutters, turning on the oven.

“Talking to yourself again?” Charlie murmurs from the couch, snuggled under a throw.

“I’m havin’ a conversation with my daughter,” he says, stroking the baby’s head. “And you’re s’posed to be napping.”

She sits up, bleary-eyed and wan. “Can’t sleep. I miss her.”

“Hear that?” he murmurs. “Mama misses you. Maybe you should wake her up more often. Five times last night wasn’t enough.”

Joel wanders over to the couch and unearths the baby from her wrap to hand her to Charlie, who takes her with a smile and a soft hi sweet girl . Warmth blooms in his chest, followed by sadness; the two often go hand in hand.

Sarah never had this, he thinks, and he mourns what he couldn’t give her; the love of a mother, the delight of a new sibling.

But Anna has it all, in this family cobbled together from spare parts and broken pieces. Like the beginning of a bad joke— a widow, an orphan, and a childless father walk into a bar –where she is the most beautiful punchline he’s ever heard.

~*~

Joel comes home to find Ellie on the couch with the baby in her lap and a book on the cushion next to her, frowning in concentration as she flips through the pages. Anna is nine weeks old and more alert than ever, bright eyes taking in everything, and at the moment she’s fascinated by her big sister’s hands, moving in slow, measured gestures in front of her face.

“Where’s Charlie?”

“Your girlfriend is taking a nap,” Ellie says without looking up from her book.

“She’s not–”

He catches himself before he can finish his sentence and Ellie smirks.

“Caught ya.”

Joel sighs. “What’re you doin’?”

She flips to the book cover to show him; An Introduction to American Sign Language .

“Sam taught me some, but I found this at the library. I figured it can’t hurt to start early.”

His throat tightens and he blinks back tears. God, his kids have turned him into a walking fucking water fountain.

“That’s…a great idea, kiddo,” he says, squeezing her shoulder.

“I know,” she says. “Besides, you can use it, too, when your hearing eventually goes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. He bends down to boop Anna’s nose. “Your sister is somethin’ else, kid. I’m gonna check on your mo–I mean my–our–”

He growls as Ellie looks up at him expectantly, a wry little smirk on her face.

“I’m gonna check on Charlie,” he sighs. “Call me if you need me.”

He hears a whisper at his back.

“What’s the sign for ‘They are so fucked’?”

Ellie’s laughter and Anna’s quiet coos follow him upstairs.

They still haven’t talked about them . They share a bed, they care for Anna, and…that’s about it. The midwife mentioned something about “resuming sexual activities” and “birth control” and maybe even a vasectomy at their final appointment, and it had taken all Joel had not to laugh in her face. He hasn’t had so much as a hard-on since the kid was born, and Charlie is permanently attached to her when she’s not sleeping or eating.

It might have bothered him if he weren’t so sleep-deprived.

In the bedroom, Charlie is buried under the blankets. He doesn’t mean to wake her, but she startles when the door creaks open.

“Anna?”

“Ellie’s got her, it’s just me,” Joel whispers. “Sorry.”

Charlie sits up, rubbing at her eyes, holding her breasts as if testing their weight. “S’okay. She needs to eat soon.”

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, smiles at Charlie’s mussed hair. He’s watched her closely over the last few weeks, hyper-alert for signs of depression, for the grief that he knows will never completely subside. A horrible little voice in the back of his mind insists that it’s only a matter of time before she leaves them.

Sarah’s mom made it four months.

But Charlie seems content if exhausted. They’re both exhausted, even with help. With Sarah he’d had the advantage of youth; with Anna, Joel feels every single one of his fifty-eight years…mostly in his back.

“Did you know Ellie’s teachin’ the baby sign language?” he asks.

“Mmm, she mentioned something about that,” Charlie yawns. “She’s smart, your kid. We’re raising geniuses.”

Joel ducks his head to hide a blush of pride. “They’re gonna leave us in their dust someday.”

We. Us.

He reaches out to cup Charlie’s face in one hand, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. He could say it was all lust until now, but watching her with Anna makes him feel like a lovesick teenager. Charlie leans into his touch, meets his eyes, and his stomach clenches with a kind of pleasant ache he hasn’t felt in weeks.

Maybe he’s going to need to look into that vasectomy after all.

The moment is rudely interrupted by a wail, followed by Ellie’s voice drifting up the stairs.

“Hey, lovebirds! Your spawn needs a diaper change.”

~*~

Joel and Ellie are sprawled on the couch, her tucked into one corner and him on the opposite side, slouched down with Anna on his chest, a movie playing in the background. The baby won’t sleep in the beautiful hand-carved cradle for more than fifteen minutes at a time, preferring instead to slumber on a warm body.

There was a time in Joel’s life when he would have said they were spoiling her, but now, acutely aware of his limited years in a way he’s never been before, he’s decided Anna can fall asleep in his arms until she’s thirty if she wants. There is no such thing as spoiling her as far as he’s concerned.

He’s half asleep, trying to wait out the next hour and a half to let Charlie get some rest, when Ellie’s voice drifts into his consciousness.

“I think I get it now.”

“Get what?” he murmurs, barely able to open his eyes.

“Why you lied to me.”

He’s awake now. His head snaps up to face her. Ellie is curled in a ball with her arms around her knees, watching the baby rise and fall with the rhythm of his breath.

“If it were her…I’d do anything to keep her safe,” she says softly.

Oh.

His first instinct is to lie again, but something about Ellie’s expression and the way she’s watching Anna gives him pause. Between the two of them, they’ve cracked him open. He’s too tired and old to hold secrets.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” he rasps. “I shouldn’t’ve done that. It was wrong.”

He meets her eyes, waits until he’s sure that she sees him, because she can’t just hear it–she needs to know it with her whole being, to believe it as deeply as he does.

“But I’m not sorry–I’ll never be sorry–for what I did. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat for you…or her.”

Ellie nods, but she frowns, her voice going small and tight.

“What if she was bit?”

The question drops from her lips like a bomb and Joel instinctively tightens his grip around Anna at the thought.

“Wouldn’t you hate me?” she whispers. “For not…for not being able to save her?”

“Never,” he says roughly. “I could never hate you, Ellie.”

“But…what if she could grow up in a better world? A world where you never had to worry about her…or Charlie…or anyone…getting infected,” Ellie asks softly.

He wants to tell her that none of this would have been possible if she weren’t here–their life in Jackson, Charlie, or Anna. He wants to tell her that she is the catalyst for everything he’s done right in his sorry life.

His girl, who wanted to save the world, had saved him instead.

But words are failing so he swallows his tears and puts an arm out. Ellie slides over, curling into his side, and he’s momentarily stunned by her solidity against him. She’s grown in the months since they returned from Salt Lake City. She’s taller, her face thinning out, more like a young woman than a child.

It happens too damn fast, he thinks, looking down at the sleeping infant on his chest.

He whispers the words into Ellie’s hair when his throat finally unlocks, watery and thick.

“She’s growin' up in a better world because you’re in it.”

~*~

“She’s finally out,” Charlie whispers, backing away from the cradle and collapsing onto the bed on her stomach with a groan. “I don’t know how one tiny human can eat so much.”

“I’ll take her tonight,” he says. “She can have a bottle.”

“You have patrol in the morning.”

“Can’t sleep for shit anyway,” he shrugs. “Did you eat? Caf’s still open, I can grab you something.”

“Mmm. Maybe later. I need about ten hours of sleep and a big glass of wine,” she mutters into the pillow.

“I can offer you six hours of sleep and a beer.”

“I’ll take it,” she yawns, then brightens. “Oh! I found something at the post today.” 

She rolls over, digs in the nightstand drawer, then unearths a small black box and tosses it into his lap.

He blinks down at it, unsure if it’s the suggestion or the fatigue that slows his tongue. His heart quickens.

“Are these…?”

“Condoms,” she grins. Then she’s crawling toward him and straddling his lap, much the way she did the first time, and she glances over at the silent cradle. “We have a couple hours…should we see if they’re any good?”

“God yes please,” he breathes, all tiredness suddenly forgotten as her mouth finds his, open and wanting.

There’s laundry scattered around the floor, empty bottles and water glasses on the nightstand, used burp cloths draped over the furniture, and the faint smell of sour milk lingers in the air.

And all of it ceases to matter because she’s holding his face in her hands and kissing him, really kissing him for the first time in weeks. Not a peck on the cheek or a nuzzled brush of her lips to his forehead when she thinks he’s still sleeping, but an honest-to-god kiss with tongue and teeth and bite.

Soon she’s rolled underneath him and he’s supping long, languid kisses from her lips, eliciting sweet little moans and breathy gasps that have him thrusting his aching cock into her bare stomach, seeking relief in friction. Even with the condom to dull the sensations, this will be over before it’s begun if he doesn’t get a fucking grip, so he pulls reluctantly away to explore the rest of her body.

Breastmilk gathers in little pearls on the peaks of her nipples, sweet and thick on his tongue as he teases and sucks his way down her chest. He traces the silvery lines on her lower stomach with his nose, the places where she’s been permanently marked because of their daughter, because of him . The sight of her gently swollen belly and the velvety softness of the stretched skin only makes him want her more.

She whimpers when he tastes her, moans when he sucks at her swollen clit and laps at her folds until she’s writhing and coming. Then she’s pulling on his hair with an urgency he understands and he’s rolling one of the condoms on and sinking into her delicious heat. She’s so close like this, pinned by his hips and chest, pressed underneath him like a flower.

He can’t pull himself away from her mouth, can’t stop kissing her and tasting her and swallowing her cries. Her arms enfold him, rubbing languid strokes up and down the slope of his back, pressing into his ass, urging him deeper. He reaches for her hand and rests their entwined fingers above her head.

Mine , he thinks with every thrust, heat coiling in his gut, crawling up his spine. Mine, mine, mine.

“Yours,” she sighs, arching into him, answering the words he didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud. He presses his forehead against hers and stills, breathing hard.

“Yeah?”

His voice is ragged with emotion. Her palms come up to cup his face.

“All yours,” she whispers, then she kisses him and kisses him and he prays the condom does its damn job because he’s falling over the edge.

~*~

He’s still softening inside her, luxuriating in the feel of her mouth against his, when the baby wails from her cradle.

Charlie groans underneath him. “Already?”

“Well…we got fifteen minutes,” he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Give yourself credit, it was at least twenty.”

“It’s like a sixth sense,” he mutters, pulling out with a groan. “Surprised Ellie’s not at the damn door, too.”

Charlie snorts a laugh, sitting up and pulling the sheet to her chest.

“I’m comin’, baby girl,” he says. “Hold on, I know…m’right here.”

But Anna can’t hear him, of course. He pokes his head over the cradle and she quiets. “I’ll be right back.”

She protests loudly when he leaves her line of sight again, totally abandoned. He disposes of the condom and washes his hands…now where the hell are his boxers? The din of Anna’s crying in the background has him stumbling over his feet.

Finally, he plucks her up out of the cradle and puts her against his chest.

“Hey, kid, you’re fine,” he rumbles against her.

She growls in response, all attitude, one tiny fist stuffed into her mouth.

“Think she’s hungry,” he murmurs, nuzzling the top of her head. “Want me to get her a bottle so you can sleep?”

“No,” Charlie says, two wet spots blooming on the bedsheet. “You primed the pump. I’m leaking all over myself.”

“Lucky kid,” he grins. “You get the real deal.”

“You just ate, sweet girl,” Charlie sighs as the baby latches. “Where does it all go?”

“Based on the laundry I folded today, I have an idea,” Joel mutters, crawling back into bed. He sits up against the headboard and pulls Charlie into his arms so she’s propped against him. She burrows into his shoulder and closes her eyes as the baby makes greedy little suckling noises. His free arm wraps around them, cupping Anna’s head, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat in his palm.

Maybe it’s the sex that loosens his tongue, or maybe he’s just too tired to worry over the fallout. He takes a deep breath.

“So I know we said…you’d stay until the kid is born…and that was, uh, ten weeks ago.”

“You kicking me out?” Charlie murmurs, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers as she nurses.

“No,” he says quickly. “You can stay as long as you want. I just…don’t want you to feel like you have to…or like we’re expected to be, uh…something we’re–”

“Joel,” she says, soft but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Heat blooms in his chest.

“Yeah?”

She tilts her head up to look at him, silver eyes shining, and answers him with a long, sweet, lingering kiss that reignites the fire in his lower belly.

He’s definitely gonna need that vasectomy.

[caramelstarlight]

So like this isn't specific but what about certain stoic genshin men with a reader whoa incredibly bubbly and happy all the time.

"Someone is going to die."

"Of fun!"

Yk?

sorry for not doing anything the past week and two (haha two.)

(FUTURE ME BY LIKE 2 MINS I FORGOT THE ✅/⭐️ Your prayer is accepted friendo) (other two in progresss.)

I was going to animate the “Hey Two!” Video bc I am a fan of bfdi. (Have been ever since I was little!)

But don’t worry everything will be out today and tomorrow! (Most likely.)

if you follow me on wattpad you would’ve saw the post I put 3 days ago most likely. There’s also 6 options for me to animate on there! Feel free to look at my acc and vote. (You can also vote for one by sending a message.)

Also holy so many frames 😭

I forgot Diluc existed sorry :d

cough cough Two worlds one heart next part tomorrow cough cough (aka part 4)

*cough cough ignore that it’s coming Friday bc I forgot about picture taking cough cough*

Stoic x Bubbly

(Alhaitham, Xiao, Wanderer, Cyno (in work mode) Tighnari (He’s stoic when he’s working like Cyno) I forgot Diluc existed mb.

And my limit for requests is 4 and I decided to add Tighnari bc I realized it. (No more than 4) (No part two. Sorry for those who thought Diluc would be here :d)

under cut r the stories. : D

Alhaitham

“Alhaitham” you said as he read his book forgetting about the noise canceling stuff he had. You continued to call out his name as kaveh watched. Softly laughing at you.

Alhaitham sent a glare towards kaveh and his gaze went back towards his book. “Alhaitham isn’t fun.” He pouted as you nodded. Eventually leaving his side to go outside with kaveh. Trying to bait him into becoming more fun.

“Kaveh I don’t think this will work.” “It might but prob not.” He replied as you both waited. He didn’t come out soon and you both came up with another idea. “We should make him mad about something…”

“Like Tighnari at cynos jokes?” “Exactly. I know you make him mad but maybe it should be something about knowledge?” “Wh-hey!” He bonked you on the head as you hit him lightly. “You do have a point though.” Kaveh said afterwards.

“Where would we find a dummy in all of sumeru?” You asked knowing majority of sumeru are smart fellows.

“We just need to get lucky.” “Maybe you should try make him mad again.” “Whyyy?!” “Because you make him mad numbskull!” Hitting him again lightly as he thought about it.

“I heard you two were trying to make me mad?” You both jumped slightly as both of you turned your head to see Alhaitham. Both of you becoming nervous by the second.

“I uhhmm.” You said trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t sound stupid to him. His gaze turned to kaveh shortly after.

“Well I accept your challenge.” “Wait what?!”

“Someone is going to die.” Both of you panicked becoming more confused.

“Of fun?” You thought out loud as he nodded. Both of you partying slightly. Finally doing something other than work and reading.

Xiao (During lantern rite)

“Xiao!” You called as he appeared by your side. Sitting at a table with Zhongli and a few adepti. His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly composed himself and sat next to Zhongli.

Playing a few games to pass the time after having lunch with everyone. Xiao managed to smile and become more happier.

When it was time to play tag (yes tag.) he was not like his usual self but still tried. “Someone is going to die.” He said as a joke. Watching people be tagged from a distance. He though someone might fall and trip.

“Of fun!” You said afterwards. Tagging yaoyao as you ran away. Watching her touch xiao as she ran. He was caught off guard and teleported to someone randomly touching cloud retainer.

“Why must one be touched for a silly game?” She said as she used her beak to touch mountain shaper. He stayed silent and ran after Moon carver.

Xiao returned to yours and Zhongli s side as you started to lose the adrenaline in your heart. Drinking water as you watched them all finish.

Wanderer

(HAHHAHAHAHHAHA MY SISTER LOST HER 50/50 TO MONAAA) (I have won none of my 50/50s *crying* (I’m serious all 5 that I had I LOST, 3 to qiqi once to Mona and once to jean. Keqing was on standard)

He watched you come inside not expecting you to be crying. He rushed to your side and asked why and who (or what) caused it.

“Someone almost poisoned me…” You told him. “And do you know who? I’ll gladly make them cry louder than you and regret their life.” (Get it?????? I’m not funny :D) “what-?” “Nothing.”

“Someone is going to die today Y/N. Just tell me their name.” “Of fun right wanderer…?” It stayed silent for a few moments as you became more nervous then sad.

“Of fun right?” You asked again clasping your hands together worrying for the person who did it to you. “Let’s put it that way…” he said as he asked you. Looking for that individual after he spent some time with you.

He was always so interested in how you were always trying to see positive sides of anything. He has witnessed cruel and unjust acts and behavior.

Cyno

“Do you wanna pull a prank on them?” Someone asked gesturing to you. “Dude are you crazy?? Almost anyone and you choose them??!” They said calming down as they drank their water after the spat it out.

“What’s wrong with them?” They asked kind of nervous of them freaking out. “That’s the General Mahamatras Partner! AKA Cyno.” Cyno listened closely as he strained his ears. Behind a wall as you talked to a friend. Unknowingly cyno was going to pull a prank on them in return.

“Pssht! He’s prob on a mission it’s not like he’s hearing us right now.” “I guess you’re right but be careful.” They replied as they began to talk. Cynos prank wasn’t going to be good but it would jump them. That’s how pranks are.

They pulled the prank and scare you from behind. Telling how they got you good. Before you smirked and stocked your tongue out. Cyno was right behind them with his usual cold gaze and activated spirit. (Basically his idol animation, the one with the polearm)

“Someone will perish for their actions against Y/N.” They both froze up and turned slightly scared and worried. “Of fun!” You perked in. They both got caught off guard as cyno laughed off the joke before giving both of them a slight cut on their bodies.

“Run.” You suggested as cyno chased them away. Coming back toward you after he had his fun. “That’s fun to you? Chasing innocent beings cyno?” You asked jokingly. “Yes. Think of it as tag but it doesn’t end as quickly as tag does.”

“Fair enough.”

Tighnari

“I swear I am going insane if one more person consumes a fungi that’s poisonous or has dangerous side effects.” Tighnari stated as you tried to calm the agitated fennec down.

“Nari it will be okay. On the bright side it teaches not too and can help you improve on your methods of healing them.” You watched as his ears and tail perked up slightly motivated him. His tail wagged slowly as he stopped his rant.

“Someone will die.” He said and caught you off guard. “What-?! Of fun I hope!” You said as he nodded. “I’m going insane I need some days offff.” He told you as he buried his face into the pillow on the couch.

“Don’t worry the others can take at least 2 or 3 days off I’m sure of it!” You played with his ears as he felt calmer. “Thank you…” He got up and sat next to you. Waiting for your hand. You placed it on his head as he melted into your touch. His tail swishing ecstatically. Finally getting a well deserved break.

You scratched behind his ears as he spoke. “I really needed this.” Beginning to become sleepy due to the amount of comfort. Soon after you heard light snores.

Laughing to yourself as you got up and gave him a blanket. Going to go help the others with their tasks and to tell them what would be planned.

(I need a two plush. Omg it looks amazing. My birthday is in November tho 😭)

[xreaderbooks]

Always (2)

Pair: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language (?) and angst

Summary: Y/n takes some time to reflect on the decision she needs to make and confronts Azriel.

A/N: Ask and you shall receive, I tagged those of you who asked for a part 2. Let me know what you think &lt;3

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Part 1

You were gone. No one had heard from you for a whole 2 weeks and to say they were confused was an understatement. One second you were laughing along with them, wine drunk with Azriel by your side helping you stay steady enough to watch the stars fall, and the next you had given them no sign of life. Azriel could feel from the bond that you were in fact alive, you just needed your space and so that was what he told the others.

He left out the part that he had royally fucked up in his delivery but you hadn't given him the chance to explain himself, you had always known when something was wrong and as closed off as he might be, you were the only one who could read him like a book.

You closed yourself off in your apartment, and when you were in need of fresh air you went out for a walk by the sidra, you tried out new places that were opening up around Velaris. Everything and anything to keep your mind off of him no matter how much you needed to way out your options.

You were engaged. To Eris of all fae. Eris was your sister's fiancee once upon a time too, not that you wanted him in the first place. You couldn't help but think that Mor's tragic history was now your plot line.

You and Eris worked together to infiltrate Keir's secrets in the court of nightmares, your father trusted him and because you allowed yourself to be under his control, the result was your betrothal to the heir of the Autumn Court. It worked in everyone's favor, though when you had told the rest of your family it had not gone over so well. Mor couldn't be in the same room as you- much less you and Eris- for months.

Eventually, you had opened up on the advantages it would serve, Eris was already allied with the night court privately now no one in the court of nightmares could suspect your deception. It was a whole twisted mess of double-crossings.

You and Eris teamed up as a couple pretending to be spying on the inner circle and feeding false information to the enemy while in reality, you were spying on your father, giving Rhysand everything. It was enough to give you a headache. Now adding Azriel into the mix- Would ruin everything you worked so hard to build.

All these years of faking your loyalty and devotion to your father with everything he has done to you and your sister so that you can be the eyes and ears in places your high lord cannot, the one goal in your ruse was to be free of him without breaking what you built. Eris was the way to do that, he was technically on your side and you've spoken of the past, he was a handsome male that could please you just fine.

It didn't matter that he wasn't the one you wanted because, for all you knew at the time, the one you longed for's heart, beat for someone else.

You had never known Azriel to be selfish but lately, he had made it a new habit that you weren't so sure about. How dare he? How dare he do this to you!

The audacity of this man! Azriel would cost you everything and you would pay for it, willingly. He hadn't needed to speak for you to know what he wanted from you.

What you would have given to have him reach for you the way he did that night. The way you pined for him, in your 500 years of living your heart beat for no other male. Fae, Illyrian, both, human, even High Lord at one point. No one could compare to Azriel. Your mind, body, and soul were are his. However, it was time you gave up your unofficial claim on him he wasn't yours nor you his- or so you thought.

Nothing would become of this childish infatuation you grew accustomed to. And so you worked to keep your thoughts on your future without him, a future you knew where Azriel would find someone who would love him.

A century later and here you were, clutching your chest to keep from the panic crawling up your throat.

If only this had happened sooner-

Before it got so messy before you accepted Eris' proposal and appeared before your father claimed your hand. He so eagerly accepted, his hunger for power clear in his eyes, so blind for it that he's unaware of the upper hand you and your soon-to-be husband have.

If only he had loved you when you didn't have all these responsibilities that a relationship- mateship with him would tear down.

After a week of shutting yourself out, you spoke to Eris. He knew all about your feelings for Azriel and though he was jealous, you were his- at the time. When you told him you needed to speak to him he already knew. He gave you one last kiss before making a smartass remark about how he'd be there when you got bored.

You didn't know how you were going to deal with your father just yet but you would clean up one mess at a time.

Days later you finally gathered up the courage to speak to him. It was almost dusk when you had opened up the bond and willed him to come to you. The wind brought him to the middle of your sitting room within a minute.

His head was bent, he looked like a little boy who was caught in the pantry. You sighed and took his hand leading him to your couch and pushing down his broad shoulders for him to sit in the middle. His brows furrowed in confusion as you backed away and intertwined your fingers.

"I am going to talk and you are going to listen," Your eyes flickered between both of his hazel ones. "Got it?"

He nodded eagerly, though he wouldn't meet your gaze.

"I cannot accept the bond-" From your side of the link, you felt his heart clench, "Not yet at least. I need to know this is real Az."

You could tell he wanted to speak but you knew that he wouldn't, not until you've said your peace. Tears begin to well up at how hard it was to say this out loud, "I will always love you. More than you will ever know Azriel, but I will not be a replacement for all the women you could not have. For all, I've known you never showed the slightest bit of interest in me prior to Starfall. Now I'm going to ask you- and I want the truth Az- Do you want this?"

His eyes were glossed over as he looked up at you through his lashes, "Do you want me?" Your voice broke.

He stood from his place on your couch, sauntering over to you, and he reached a hand out. Fingertips softly brushed fallen strands of your hair from your face, behind your ear, tracing a finger from your ear to your jaw. Slowly and painfully he dragged his finger to the tip of your chin forcing your eyes to meet his and you are weak.

"I have been so blind Y/n," He whispers.

"That's not an answer," You shake your head, and he drops his hand. Your voice was like stone though your nerves were on fire, "Do you love me Azriel?"

"I love you, Y/n L/n."

You wanted so badly to believe him. The thought of the mating bond forcing him to make him feel this way made you sick. "What about Elain?"

Azriel winced but spoke cooly, "An infatuation that is over and done."

"And Mor?"

"I loved her," Your stomach turned. "But the love I had for her, in that way, is gone and it does not compare to how I feel for you. The bond does nothing but intensify the love I have for you, the love that I have hidden away long ago."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" You scoff. "You forget that I've been there Az, throughout everything. You are not shy with your love, I should know, I've seen the way you love."

He shakes his head in denial, "I love you Y/n."

"What happens if one day Mor decides she loves you?" Something you knew would never actually happen but you needed to know.

"I love you-"

"Azriel-"

"I love you."

You playfully push him away from you, "You can't keep saying that when you have nothing to back it up with." He takes a hold of your waist with one hand and grabs the back of your neck, attaching his lips to yours. He kisses you with an intensity you've never felt from any other male, you melt into the kiss wrapping your arm around his shoulder and running your hands through his hair. Your body was pressed against his, adding heat to a situation you weren't sure you wanted to add to. His lips were intoxicating, you didn't want to stop but your mind wouldn't stop thinking about all the unanswered questions.

You broke away from the kiss, pushing him an arm's length away. "You said I talked too much."

He barked out a laugh, "What?"

"You told me that a couple of years ago," He took a step toward you but your arm held strong.

"I love you Y/n."

"I snore-"

"No you don't," Azriel snorted and removed your hand from his shoulder, bringing you into him with an arm. He pressed kisses up and down your neck, "I thought you wanted me to prove my love and here you are trying to give me reasons not to love you."

Azriel added his tongue to his kisses and began to suck on one spot in particular that had your knees weak.

"You said it yourself that I'm too much for you."

He paused his attack on your neck holding your face in his large hands, "Because I love you and you deserve better. Besides, I've dealt with you for well over two centuries I think I can deal with you for the rest of my life."

"I need you to prove it."

"I'll prove it to you for as long as I live," Azriel bent his neck down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Taglist: @mulansaucey - @jadepearsonn - @benbarnes-supremacy - @seppys-return-to-madness - @azriel-luvr - @marina468 - @zealousballoonfox

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮 : Short #2

Jungkook deals with the downsides of being a young doctor all the time. One of them being, that sometimes he can't do anything.

Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, dog hybrid!Reader, hints at domestic abuse, MC's age is not mentioned but it is mentioned that she is above 21, first meeting between jk and reader lets goo

Length: ~700 Words

⛔️ I can't Tag people. There is no Taglist for this fic.⛔️

A/N: Please do not come for my throat if some stuff doesn't make sense. I've tried hard, but I'm not a doctor, and so none of this should be taken too seriously. Treat it like a medical drama. Those ain't real either haha

->Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Jungkook has, like many others, bad habits.

One of them is that he can't seem to shut off well- he can't seem to just exist in the moment sometimes, without thinking about work or anything work related. Even right now, at the mall, he's still constantly thinking about the little hybrid infant back in the ICU, better, but still fighting. Did he check everything properly before having him transferred? Did he overlook something?

Jungkook knows not to take his work back home. But sometimes, it's hard.

There's a bit of a small crowd near the store he wants to go. People trying to look at what's happening, others further front talking to each other with concerned eyes. And then he hears it;

"Maybe we should find a doctor?" Someone asks, and Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand.

"I'm one." He calls out, having had this moment once before in a flight into his vacation a year ago. "What's wrong?" He asks, squeezing through he people to get a look at the scene.

There's a hybrid sitting down, an older lady holding onto her.

"She- I don't know, fell I think, but she won't get up now." The lady says, unsure.

"..can't." You quietly try and argue, and Jungkook can feel the tension between you and this woman he assumes is your owner. So he squats down close to you, making all effort not to seem to intimidating even in his dark clothes and rather casual attire.

"Lets get out of the way first." He says, leaning down to you. "Is it okay if I carry you?" He asks, and you nod, shrugging. He collects you into his arms to bring you to a more closed off hallway leading to bathrooms and other things, where he sits you down on a bench. "Can you tell me what happened?" He asks you, and you stare at the woman for a moment, before you look at him. You seem scared- and he worries he might have an idea why.

It's a anger-inducingly common after all.

"..I caught my tail in the.. door." You say, motioning to the automatic glass doors of the store. "And now.. my legs are weird." You worry, and Jungkook nods.

"Lets check, okay?" He kindly tells you, carefully stretches out one leg, moving everything a little to judge your reaction. "Are they numb, or just tingly?" He wonders, and you watch him.

"Tingly. They went.. all gooey for a bit though." You say.

"Thats normal." He nods. "The sensation will come back really soon, don't worry- it's just a temporary nerve blockage from the way you caught your tail. Can you try and move your feet for me?" He asks, and you do so. "There we go. It'll stay a bit sore for a few more moments maybe, but its nothing to be scared of." Jungkook reassures, looking at the lady next to you. "Hybrid tails are connected to the spine- like an extension, so to say. So when she caught it, she basically blocked all nerve signals for a moment." He explains, before he looks at you. "Can I have a look at your tail? It's fine if you don't want to." He makes sure to emphasize your choice, and you nod-

mainly because he leaves you a choice at all.

You turn around and he gently moves his fingers around, apologizing under his breath when you hitch a bit from pain. "How old are you?" He wonders in thought, and the lady cuts him off.

"Old enough to be on her own if she wasn't so incapable of taking care of herself." The woman complains, running a hand through her hair. And while it doesn't tell him your exact age, it does tell him that you're at least above 21- the minimum age for a hybrid to be considered 'independent' if they're between the categories of one to four, which you seem to be placed in. If he had to make a guess, he'd probably say a three, maybe.

For now, he ignores her snarky responses however. It's not his problem, and he shouldn't get involved in things that do not involve him, down the line. "Did you break it in the past?" He wonders, feeling something that hints at past poorly healed fractures, but the lady cuts in yet again.

"She's clumsy." She snaps. "Can we go now? We have some urgent things to take care of and we're already late." She tries to sound friendly- but she's really not.

But all Jungkook can do is nod. "Just.. have it looked at if the complaints don't clear up entirely by tonight." He says, and the lady nods- though she's already occupied searching for something in her bag. It makes him pretty convinced that no matter if your complaints resolve themselves or not, she won't do anything about it.

And so he watches you leave on slightly unsteady legs, dragged a bit by the hand around your wrist, and he can't help but feel a little hollow inside, especially when you turn around to wave at him politely, way too nice to be treated like this. He's sure, if you met under different circumstances, you'd be a very lovely person to be around.

But right now, all he's left with at the end of the day, is the fact that he can't save everyone.

[izukuisbaby]

hello daughter.

saw that your requests are open and i swooped in to leave one.

can you do nanami encouraging you for a work exam? (i have mine next week) sfw and fluffy plz <3

⊹˚.⋆ COMFORTING YOU DURING YOUR EXAMS - JUJUTSU KAISEN

℘. flora's notes : ABSOLUTELY I CAN MOM, I wish you the best of luck for your exams <3 I'm sure that you put in the work to succeed and I'm so proud of you, let me know how they went ! ALSO I THINK U MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN THIS

℘. no gender specified ! pure fluff

m.list | comment or reblog w tags if you enjoyed !

℘. dni : invisible blogs, default pfp blogs, spamlikers dni you'll be blocked and reported. LEAVE A COMMENT OR REBLOG W TAGS INSTEAD OF SPAMLIKING PLEASE

⋆ NANAMI KENTO

okay this man would be SO supportive

he would stay by your side during your revisions because he wants to be there in case you need help understanding something

and he's so kind when he explains things to you, he does not want you to feel stupid for not understanding, he is as gentle as possible

he rubs soft circles on your hand while he does

he will find exercises on the internet and do them with you so he's sure you got it

he never loses track of time, he wants to make sure you eat your 2 meals a day and a good breakfast

he knows what you have to eat in order to be energetic and efficient during your study sessions

so you'll get homemade cereal bars, your favourite coffee at precise hours so you still get some sleep at night, healthy delicious meals at noon and in the evening

and he will present them so aesthetically too, he sees it as "your break", the moment where you will really take your mind off everything

obviously, he will eat with you. he has always considered eating meals with your family SO IMPORTANT

and staring at his angel face definitely takes your mind elsewhere 😫

if you are particularly anxious before your finals, you can count on him to make you feel better

he will carry you to the couch and trap you under a blanket

and make your favourite hot beverage to soothe you

he will put you on his lap and caress your back with one of his hand and your cheek with the other

and tell you how proud he is, you've been putting so much energy into succeeding

there is no way you will fail, and even if you do you will not disappoint anyone and especially not him

this man lives to make you happy, he will just take you out on a date to make you feel better !

on the D- Day, he will personally bring you to school, give you a forehead kiss of encouragement and a big hug

AND OFC HE WILL REMIND YOU OF HOW PROUD HE IS

and he will also pick you up from it with a beautiful bouquet of flowers<3

give me a nanami please

⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

okay so this may seem weird to some people BUT I can see toji as science and maths smart

like an assassin has to strategically plan their attack and it must take some logic and maths or something idk y'all I never killed anyone

so if you are studying something in those fields, he will help you

but toji sucked at school, so he developed his own way of doing maths and it's confusing you more than it helps💀

I feel like he would be pissed that you're busy so he'll casually drop in your flat without warning

like he wants to be there for you

and he wants you to know that he's trying to support you... in his own way

occasional thighs rub and kisses at the back of your head

toji often tells you that he will kill whoever gives you a bad mark which is not so comforting 😍

but that's kind of a motivation because OBVIOUSLY you don't want anyone killed

he will bring you coffee but will try his best to act like someone accidentally put this in his hand and he was forced to take it to you

yeah he tries his best to believe that he's not completely whipped

" 'brought you this" and he will deadass whisper it like he's a kid who just told his mom he broke her favourite vase

he almost threw it on the table it was about to spill all over your books, thankfully you caught it in time

and he walked out way too fast for it to be normal

episode 2 of toji not understanding he's whipped : he will take the day of your exams off so he can bring you and get you back home

on his motorcycle because he can't help but brag

also he likes your friends' reactions when he comes to your school, obviously your boyfriend is the kind of hot you only see once in your life if you even see it at all

he was internally stressed out for you and didn't realize until he knew your were in that classroom writing and he was just walking around with no purpose

once you tell him you did well on your exams, he will have such relief that he'll be down to watch Christmas movies with you

⋆ SATORU GOJO

he will barge in your flat - almost giving you a heart attack - with an enormous bouquet, a personalized teddy bear the size of half his body that says "so proud of you baby, you're gonna slay" and your favourite coffee

how did he know the word "slay" ? he spends all his time on tik tok and his screen time is insanely high

and that was of no exception during your revisions. he will watch tik toks in the same room as you, with the volume wayyyy too high

but being alive for so long got him kind of deaf

and between us, he probably exhausted his own eardrums by being so loud all the time

he will hug you - I mean, crush you - from behind your chair

"You're so sexy being all schooly"... and of course he smirks

and I hope that you hit him with one of your books because he deserved it

he won't help you because school has never been his thing and he doesn't remember anything

yet he will whine about being touch-deprived and pushed aside, BEGGING you to give him attention

you've scolded him once or twice so now he's just occasionally playing with your feet

yes with your feet

at some point, you had to kick him out

he spammed your phone with apologies and kept on sending you bouquets, you almost couldn't walk in your place 😭

you eventually let him come back in and he was so traumatized by your punition that he shut up and let you study???

WHIPPED.

he will personally insist on taking you to your exams and will take 2 hours to get ready

"damn babe I look so good, your friends are gonna be jealous of you dating such a hot man"

and he's sadly right...

he will flex SO BAD, he'll drive you in one of his limousines with tinted windows and open the door for you

no gojo doesn't know discretion btw

after the exam, he will bring you back home in that same limousine and will be the clingiest mf

good luck, honey. he's heavy

you come back to all the flowers carefully put in vases and it's kind of a vibe actually

© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)

[eupheme]

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE | part iv: long road ahead

[masterlist]

joel miller x f!reader

Rated E - 4.6k

Tags: brief canon-divergence, reader is mid/late 30s+, soft!dom Joel, angst, references to anxiety, mentions of hunted food and meals, sort-of romanticization of a wound, manual restraints, unprotected PiV

A/N - this is it! Thank you to everyone who has read along and commented. I appreciate you so much! 💕

The days grow longer. And you find that all good things must come to an end.

The ground crunches under your steps, one after another.

He walks beside you now. Those worn leather gloves stuffed into pockets, the soft brushing of fingers and knuckles - never quite entwining.

Silence has been a third companion this morning. Along with the bright sun glinting off the melting snow that collapses under your steps. A rare, warm moment.

A good time to get from one place to the next, if there ever was one.

You wish it was like the time you went out before.

That walk from a few days ago, after those stolen moments in the barn. Steps taken afterwards, in a contented haze - even through the twinge of soreness between your thighs.

Over-enthusiastic, in his recompense.

You think you understand it now, after his words. Realizing there was nothing that could make him do anything. That maybe he had just been waiting all those weeks, like you had.

There's an inhale of breath, as his steps crunch alongside yours. Something weighing on his mind - enough to steal his voice, to hide it away.

You've picked up that much at least - the silence of thought looked different on his face than the silence of listening, of holding his tongue.

But on the next breath, he lets his thoughts free - flying straight like an arrow.

"You have a good thing goin'," His voice is low, as if he might be overheard. As if the trees around you can listen, as his tongue wets his lips.

A pause, "But it's only you out here."

You glance at him, steps slowing when you see how serious his eyes are. Examining you, as his jaw works - before they're dropping.

His tone changes, going lighter, "You could come with us."

The words sit heavy between you. Bringing you to a crashing stop as his offer curls inside your brain and your heart.

You can't pretend it's something you haven't thought about. Dismissed. Thought about again.

A never-ending loop of what-ifs that you have to force yourself not to dwell on - too painful to consider. Never thinking he would actually ask.

"I can't." There's a tremble in your voice that you shake away - a pain that pricks at your eyes, "This is all I have."

There's something like pity in the look he gives you.

A tension between his eyebrows as he coaxes, "What if I told you there was more out there? This place ain't going to last forever."

His hand flexes, as if to reach for you. Moving to grip onto the wire fence, instead - curling around the ice-cold metal.

"That generator has a year left on it. Two, tops."

Your eyes drop. Part of you knows this. That you've kept up the cabin the best you could. But it's been twenty years since the world ended. Some things you can't fix anymore.

"You can't live like this. All alone." He means it kindly. But it twists in your stomach, your sorrow turning into anger.

An acid souring your words, spitting them back his way, "At least it's livin’."

Neither one of you are the best at talking things out. Losing the craft when actions spoke louder.

His own anger flaring - unsheathing that sharp edge.

"They ain't coming back. The person you're waiting for. You know that, right?”

His words are like a slap, staggering you. Cruel, even if he doesn't mean them that way. Even if he only wants you to see what you've been ignoring, avoiding, for years now.

It steals your words, as you stare back at him. The twist of his mouth, the angry tilt of his eyebrows above those eyes that seem to pierce right through you.

It transforms him into someone you don't recognize.

Taking him back to the man he was, on that first night.

You turn on your heel, then - your boots sinking into the damp ground with the force of your steps. Leaving him standing at the fence, his arms now hanging at his sides.

It feels like an impossible choice. That tiny bit of hope eroding into a sliver of nothing. You've told yourself a hundred times that you wouldn't ask them to stay. That you couldn't.

That it wasn't fair.

But it's on the tip on your tongue, now - even in spite of your anger. Trying to force their way through your lips.

His voice comes first.

Low and soft, but still freezing you in place.

"Ellie is immune."

And slowly, you turn.

He stands where you left him, dark eyes solemnly searching yours. Wanting, needing you to understand what he is saying.

"What?"

You heard him, but it still doesn't make sense. Thoughts seem to buzz in your head - the words scooped up with the wind, taking them with it.

"Been bit twice and hasn't turned." He takes a step closer, and you find yourself doing the same.

Another, and then another - until you're in front of each other, again.

“I'm taking her to a group in Salt Lake City. Might be able to find a cure."

All you can do is stare, as his words sink in. Emotions flickering in your chest, like those old kodachrome slides - each breath changing the photo. Shock bleeds into worry, melting their way into sadness. And then, hope.

"Is she, really?" You breathe.

A mark still settled deep between your eyebrows, as you think. How Ellie must have felt, that first time. You can't imagine the fear of a bite - and to have experienced it twice? At her age?

So capable, but so young. She shouldn't have had to grow up like this. To have gone through that.

"I've seen the mark." His hand rakes through his hair, before bracing on his hips, "Made a promise I'd get her there safely."

You nod, automatically.

The unseen burden - their drive - making sense in a way you never understood until now. The weight of their journey replacing the heavy one in your heart. What a difference, this girl could make.

You see her in a new light.

Maybe she could prevent what happened to you from happening to anyone else.

His fingers brush yours, and you take them - his grip warm and familiar. Standing for a stolen moment, before you acknowledge the impossible impasse.

He can't ask you to go.

And you can't ask him to stay.

Your eyes burn.

You tell yourself it’s just from the wind.

———

As the days pass, you pick up on it.

The slow packing of things.

A spare zip-up jacket that’s taken up residence on the old wooden chair, now tucked away into a bag.

The small pile of tools - a swiss army knife, the skinny phillips head screwdriver.

Spending weeks cluttering the little side table. Sharing the space with an old iron lantern, so Joel could see when he tinkered on things in the evenings.

Now, swept away like they never existed. The pieces like magnets - slowly working their way back to each other, back to where they came from.

It makes your chest ache, but the days are getting a little warmer. The mark on his stomach starting to fade instead that raw, red splash.

Healing, with the time that has passed.

It has you wanting to withdraw, even though you should be blooming - sprouting up through the thawing soil.

Instead, you find yourself tucking yourself in your room a little more often. Leaving them alone.

Not every day - there’s moments when you forget. When you are just happy to be with them, spending time. Soaking it in.

It’s in the mornings, when your bed is empty. When there’s that flip in your stomach when he’s not there - when you remember that in the no-so-distant future, he won’t just be on the other side of the door.

That’s when you linger. Letting yourself press into the bed, softer than the floor.

You’ve never been good at goodbyes.

You’ve never gotten the chance to give them.

And when you finally have the chance, you don’t want to. You want it - them - to linger.

To be tethered, like you are, to this place. Moss growing over stone.

But you can’t ask for that. And with what you know now, you won’t let that happen.

There's a finality in the way you pluck things off the pantry shelf tonight. As you prepare the meal - passing things to Ellie to open, watch over for you as they begin to cook.

Giving Joel the best cuts of meat from the deer. It had taken him two days to track it down. It's become harder and harder to find food around these parts.

You should ration it. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. Letting you season it with an abundance of spices, almost too much, before he takes it to the fire.

Pulling as many comforting things as you have. Letting your mind wander back to your childhood, trying to adapt it to now.

Canned potatoes, a hearty chili, peanut butter sandwiches. Applesauce and and old packet of kool-aid.

In the past, you would have nibbled away at each one. Stretched them into days, wanting to save these small indulgences.

Tonight - you don't care.

It becomes a patchwork of flavors. You're not even sure if it will go together. But if it's good - you make it.

Wanting them to go to bed tonight, full and happy.

That you can do, at least.

The food fills most of your cookware, finishes dishes spilling across your counter. Plates piled high as the sun sets - the golden beams making the kitchen feel hazy. Softened in the evening glow.

It takes most of the afternoon, but it's worth it. To have that moment of sitting down together.

Of actual tableware set out, instead of standing at the counter - shoveling in a bite. Running off to finish what ever you'd been working on.

Tonight, metal clinks against ceramic. Steaming food and a swirl of red in wine glasses - a smattering of giggles with Ellie's exaggerated "pinkies out".

It feels - normal. In spite of everything.

It makes you wistful.

Like if you closed your eyes, it would be back then. That maybe you'd be home - still young and without all these unshakeable burdens and memories.

And if not that, then it makes you think of what could be.

What can't be.

A heaviness begins in your heart, stretching down to your fingers. Weighing down your fork - each bite slow.

But not because you're savoring it - when you look back, you won't remember the flavors.

Trying to soak the evening in. Every detail. Trying not to drag down the mood with your melancholy. Ignoring the way Joel's eyes sweep towards you, the pinching of his brow.

You don't want to make it weird. To cling on, even if your fingers itch to. It had been change and luck that had brought them your way, and hopefully that would follow them on the road ahead.

So instead, you throw yourself into conversations with Ellie. Really trying to listen, to remember all of it.

A smile, as you conceed that perhaps Batman wasn't a superhero, after all. A conversation you’ve touched on before, when Ellie found a stash of comic books on the shelf.

“I think his powers are his intellect, and disicpline. His humanity is his power, you know?"

“Bruce is just a rich dude in a suit. He's no different than Tony Stark."

"Iron Man is a hero. His suit gives him superpowers. Plus he's like, stupid-smart."

"How can he be both stupid and smart?"

"Joel, you don't even know who Iron Man is."

The dishes left in the sink, for you to tackle tomorrow. They will be welcome distraction, then.

Clearing the space for candles, as the streaks of purple and grey fill the rooms.

Cards flicking across the table. Throwing yourself into the Texas Hold'em that's been the favorite lately. Ellie catching on quickly, finding joy in calling out the bluffs.

Played for pennies, buttons, things found around the house. Carefully coveted when won, as if they actually held a value. It’s easy to throw yourself into it, getting caught up in the game.

It's late, when the round ends. When you're left looking at each other, the single candle not strong enough to keep away the creeping darkness.

You stand.

Still unwilling for things to end. Not yet. Just a few minutes longer.

So you find another candle instead. A thick one with three wicks - until the glow is warm and filling the space again. Washing over expressions that resemble your own.

"One more."

You play one more, and then another. As the minutes tick by, and the light burns low.

———

His thumb sweeps feather-light over the mark. Slightly faded with time that has passed - the angry slash fading to a swooped line.

You’ve spent nights mapping each other out in the dark, but not like this. The curtains drawn back to let the moonlight in, the candle from the kitchen moved to sit on the side table - making his skin glow in the golden light.

Touching you like he wants to remember, wants to actually know each scar and mark on your skin.

“This looks new.”

“It is,” You smile, a soft laugh. “That’s from the night we met.”

Joel’s head lifts, a question in his eyes.

“Ellie.” You tell him - a soothing brush through his curls when he frowns, “She’s one hell of a kid. Out of all of us, she’s the one that’s gonna be just fine.”

He makes a sound at that, a low acknowledgment. You wonder if he had more time, if he’d press for more information.

Head dipping as he presses his lips softly against the scar, instead.

“I’m sorry.”

It could be an apology just for this. For what he said before. Or - it just could be for all the things that has happened. To you, to him.

It’s too tender.

You’re not used to soft. Neither one of you are. Awkward and fumbling over words, trying to hold things back.

Knowing there’s not much time left.

You shake your head, “Don’t be. I don’t mind, it’s-“

It’s a reminder that the two of you existed. A memory, for when you’re gone. That it wasn’t just a dream.

It’s fucked up to think that way. But then again, what isn’t fucked up about the world, anymore?

“It’s fine. She was trying to help you.” You deflect, “Can’t fault her for that.”

He hums, his hand flattening against your stripped-bare skin. Drifting along the curve of your waist and hip, fingertips carefully dragging.

It makes your stomach flip, something bubbling up to burn in your chest.

You don’t want soft tonight. You don’t think you can take it.

Teeth gritting as you try to shift the weight. Trying to pull him on top of you, from where he rests on his side. A palm tucked under his cheek, his curls soft and tousled from a recent shower.

It’s domestic.

That bubbling feeling rises, choking you. Blinking back the sting of your eyes, as he resists for just a second - confused.

As if you could really move him, all on your own.

You second tug is softer, and he moves then. Rolling on top of you until his hips are cradling yours, elbows digging into the mattress on either side as he hovers.

Surrounding you, until he’s all you can see. A hand curving against your jaw, a thumb brushing against your cheek.

There’s a pinch between his brows. Something that’s been there since that morning walk, those days ago.

A permanent etching, above eyes that see too much.

Your own eyes close, to break that connection. A hand curling around the back of his neck to bring his mouth down to yours.

The groan sounds broken in your throat, when his body melds against yours. That weight pressing you into the bed, as you deepen the kiss.

Your thigh hooking around his waist, pulling him closer. The sound echoed when your teeth scrape his lip in your eagerness.

That look again, as he pulls back. You know he can read yours.

Desperate.

All but clinging to him, as his sharp look softens. You hope he knows what you need, because you don’t think you have the words tonight.

If you open your mouth, you’re afraid the rest will flow. That you’ll say something you’ll regret - all your feelings wrapped up so tightly, scrambling over each other to burst through first.

But, you think you can manage one. For him.

“Please.”

Those dark eyes flick back and forth between yours. You wonder if he needs the same thing because suddenly, his head is ducking back down.

The hand on your cheek sliding to cup the back of your neck. Thumb and forefinger pressing into the muscle, holding you in place as his hips start to slowly rock.

Grinding himself against you, as his tongue flicks at yours. Slowly swelling, growing hard against the soft curve of your thigh, your hip.

Leaving a sticky streak behind, as your fingers grip at his shoulder. As he swallows the moans that grow softer, as the neediness takes over.

Angling himself so he slides between your thighs. His hot length nudging against your core, shining from the way his mouth presses to yours. Slick now, as his other hand cups a breast.

Teasing, then pinching. The slight pain makes you gasp, the pleasure layering over it as he swallows the sound.

Your hips lift, seeking him. A frustrated hand snaking between you - wrapping around his length, lining him up.

His hips slow, to where he’s just pressing against you. Not nudging inside, not yet. Eyes open and dark as his head tilts back.

Watching. Observing your change of pace, a shift in what’s become the usual. A question in them, unspoken but you can read it as well as he can read you.

This what you want?

You need this?

Your lips are on his neck, as you shift. The tip parting and then splitting you as he starts to sink inside. Tasting the salt of his skin as your arms wrap around his strong shoulders, holding yourself against him.

Joel groans as he’s enveloped in your heat. The hand dropping to the curve of your waist and squeezing, as he drives into you.

It steals your breath, a soft gasp against his neck as his cock makes room for itself. A sharp stretch in the way he fills you.

Nails biting into the meat of his shoulder as his hips sit flush. Before his hand is moving - reaching for yours. Dragging one from his shoulder and pinning it against the mattress.

Pushing you back, bracing himself above you. That forearm still pressed into the bed, his fingers still cupping the back of your neck.

Head dropping, so he can nose against your cheek. His voice a low rasp, barely audible in the soft shell of your ear.

“If you want it, you’re gonna take what I give you.”

It sends a flickering thrill up your spine. How he has you held so firmly in place. Thumb pressing into the hollow under your ear - keeping your face tipped up towards him.

You do expect him to take. Bracing for it, a flutter of your eyelashes - waiting for the sharp, unyielding snap of his hips.

Instead, his hips rock. A lazy, slow drag as he nudges deep, and then deeper.

Your free hand clings to him, wrapping around a thick bicep. The heel of your foot pressing against the curve of his ass, urging.

But he keeps it up. Small thrusts into where you’re warm and wet and aching for him, tilting your hips up to meet him.

All while his eyes stay on yours. Rarely blinking - just taking you in.

You wonder if this is how you looked earlier, at the table. That greedy inhalation of anything you could.

Wanting to remember.

It has your jaw gritting. His tenderness would be something you’d marvel at, if it was another night.

But you want to forget. Everything that isn’t him, that isn’t just this moment.

There’s a pink flash of tongue as he wets his lips, framed by the peppered-grey strands of his beard.

“More?”

“More.” You parrot, a jerky nod to your head.

That sharper thrust comes, and then another. Each one pushes a thought from your head, replacing it with soft, hazy bliss.

The grind of his hips as he finds the angle that he knows well. The one that has you gasping, the coarse hair a much-needed friction against your clit.

Each thrust like a tooth on a gear, slowly winding you up. Twisting in your belly until you feel like it’s about to snap - your breath a ragged gasp with each harsh punch of his hips.

It’s almost enough. The fingers around your wrist tightening, as he hold himself back. Your thighs gripping around his hips as you clench, his own breath equally harsh.

His name, breathed out the feeling begins to overwhelm you.

“Joel. Joel, I’m-”

Those arms move, then. Releasing that tight grip, as his lips brush yours. His words an echo of that first night, when you had fallen in bed together.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come on.” He coaxes - needing it as much as you do. “Come for me.”

Wrapping his arms around you, as you shatter.

———

He wakes her quietly. A hand on a sleepy shoulder, a gentle shake.

A finger raising to his lips as her eyes open. Bleary-eyed as she yawns, looking around the dark room. It's early - the morning light is just starting to crest over the mountains.

"It's time." Joel tells her quietly, no more than a whisper, "You got your things?"

Ellie frowns as she nods, foot pointing at the bag at the end of her bed.

"Alright then. Get dressed, we gotta head out."

A moment, her voice hoarse with sleep.

Almost sounding small, "Is she coming with us?"

He stares at her for a moment, before his head shakes, slowly.

Her voice drifts after him as he turns - not wanting to see the disappointment, "Then, aren't we going to say goodbye?"

"You know we did. Last night, that's what that was all about." He tells her, a bit of that old bite coming back, "We'll never leave if-"

We'll never leave if we see her again. We'll want to stay. We already do.

His jaw grits, "-if we don't get started now.”

She nods sullenly.

He gives her space.

Taking one last look around the small cabin. Flashes of the time that has passed - dinners by the little fireplace. How they all managed just to fit on that old worn couch.

How he hadn't seen Ellie laugh like that, not since Kansas City. Not since Sam.

He leaves it for her. Took him a while longer than he'd like to admit. Tucked into the book that rests by the window - the place where it all started. She'll find it there, he's sure.

Never been good at goodbyes. Not before, and not now. Not even when he's been afforded the extra time.

Hands shoved in his pockets so he doesn't touch anything else. Jacket already on, the rifle slung across his back. Itching to get out the door, because being stuck in this limbo is weighing him down.

Thoughts threatening to burst from the ground and wrap around his ankles, anchoring him until he has no choice but to stay.

But, they have a job to do.

Soon, the door opens. Ellie is staring - walking past him, to the kitchen counter.

Where some bundles had been left out. Cans of food and supplies wrapped in canvas bags. A bit of color peeking out of the top.

Those scarves she’s been working on. Finally finished, the ends weaved, neatly tasseled. She must have worked hard to finish them, putting this last bit of kindness together.

Ellie hesitates then, fingers tracing the woven pattern - glancing at the shut bedroom door, across the hall.

"Joel-" Ellie begins - but he's shaking his head.

"We gotta go."

"I know about it, that you-" She's protesting,

"Ellie, please."

The two words are quiet. Just a small, short thing.

She nods. Reaching for the smaller of the two bags, shoving it into her own backpack.

Trying to be quiet as she zips it up, fitting it back on her shoulders over the heavy, plum-colored coat.

Waiting at the door as he does the same, before the front door is opening. Letting her step out first, those scarves wrapped tight around their noses, still smelling like the cabin. Like her.

His fingers reach up - a quick brush against the steel horseshoe above the door. Like he’s watched her do. For luck, she said.

And then, he's shutting the door behind them.

"It's west, to Salt Lake City." Joel nods, as she follows behind, "Let's get Callus, and see how far we can get today."

And they start off together - again.

———

You wake alone.

You were expecting it - it was the right call.

But it still hurts.

The spot next to you is cool, but there's still an indent in the pillow where he laid next to you. Last night and all those ones before.

The spot smelling like him, and you resist the urge to bury your face in it. To just stay in bed, all day. Maybe forever.

You can't be upset - you were the one who said no. The offer had been small, but it had been there.

But it was too complicated. Too dangerous.

You both knew that the world was like now.

These weeks had been a reprieve. A moment you never should have had, because the world doesn't work with kindness anymore.

Better to appreciate, remember fondly, and then - move on.

So you busy yourself, instead. Catching up on things put on hold for all those weeks.

Taking stock of what you'll need.

Trying not to think too much about the heavy mass in your stomach - to wonder if it’s grief, or if it’s regret.

So instead, you turn roll your sleeves up. Tackling the plates and pans and mess of shining, silvers forks and spoons.

The stack slowly dwindling, until everything is in its place again.

It's mid-afternoon when you finally sit. On the far left-side of the couch, though there's room for you to spread out, now. Looking out the window at the path that leads to the gate.

Wondering if footprints remain in the snow.

Wondering if the weather has been kind to them.

Wrapping a blanket around you as you reach for the book that you've only snatched small moments of, thinking you'll finally get a chance to finish it.

It falls open, to the middle. A folded piece of paper tucked between the pages, at a different spot than the scrap piece working as a bookmark.

Curiously, you unfold it.

Words scrawled neatly across the page. The handwriting you don't recognize, but you still know it, because it reminds you of him.

Taking a long second to memorize the way your name looks in his writing, before you read the rest.

I know what we talked about.

If you change your mind, I got a brother in Jackson.

It's good place, with good people. They'd take care of you.

Just mention my name to Tommy.

Might find our way back there, when all this is over.

Yours,

Joel

You read it, again and again. Something twisting in your stomach, curling into knots. Catching in your chest.

Thinking about everything. About all the years you’ve spent here - a prison and a sanctuary. About that walk in the woods. His words.

They ain’t coming back.

What if there was more?

A long while passes, before you slowly unfold yourself.

Crouching down by the old bookcase. Looking past the spines of books and comics - the briefest of smiles at the memory, before you're reaching for that stack of old maps.

Dragging one out onto the kitchen table.

Unfolding the creased, worn pages.

Your finger dips over the valleys. Finding your home, nestled in the woods and mountains.

Then, dragging it slowly - finding the roads, the highways.

Tracing a path towards Jackson.

Would love to know what you thought of this series / this ending! 💕 thank you again for reading! edit: okay, not quite the end! There is an epilogue up now, linked on the masterlist.

[walalppper]

Little Game - dark! Rafe Cameron x (Y/n)

Dark Rafe Cameron x Reader (x Pope Heyward) Part I

(Reader is 19 years old) warnings/tags: 18+, obsessive!Rafe, violence, physical/verbal abuse, toxic relationship.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Little Game

Everyone in Outer Banks knew who Rafe Cameron was for obvious reasons, and everyone also knew to not mess with his girl. But in the midsummer fest (Y/n) met a wonderful person, he made her feel safe, loved, and beautiful, feelings she never experienced with Rafe. It’s not like he abused her, he just had a weird way of letting her know he loved her, and Pope was aware of that.

He just wanted to make her feel protected, and eventually, she let herself go and started a secret relationship with Pope behind Rafe’s back. At first, she didn’t think much about the consequences of her actions, but slowly with time she was starting to grow paranoid, disgusted, and awful in general. Rafe was an awful boyfriend, but he didn’t deserve this.

But here she was again, promising herself to meet up with Pope Heyward one last time and end everything.

“We can…I can take you away from here (Y/n). Just-” Pope softly spoke to her. Shaking her head as no, she gently pleads. “Pope…you don’t know what he’s capable of doing-”

“Capable of doing what?” Rafe’s voice echoed in the small cabin they were in. “Oh no…am I interrupting something?” He chuckled, slowly closing the door behind him, and glancing over at both.

“Rafe…” (Y/n) trembled with fear.

“No need for that…” he nodded. “I know exactly what’s going on here. You were about to leave me for this pogue.” He nodded, slowly reaching out to grab the crowbar that stood against the wooden wall of the cabin.

“(Y/n) get behind me…” Pope whispered, rolling his hands into firm fists. At the sight of the scene, she knew something bad was about to go down. Rafe was already swinging the crowbar in Pope’s direction. Rafe was predictable, she knew him too well, there was no way Pope could beat him alone. Running as fast as she could to the entrance door, she looked over at Pope “I’ll go get help!” and disappeared in the next second.

“Sure, you will…” Rafe whispered under his breath, glancing over at Pope with a malicious smile.

xxx

Panting, sweating dripped down her forehead as she ran as fast as possible through the woods. She had to find JJ, John b, Kiara, someone!

It was a stormy night as the wind blew violently through the tall trees ahead, it was freezing. Shivering, (Y/n) pulled her blouse tighter around her as she slowed down. Gasping for air she started looking around. Finally slowing down she felt a bit safer that the man was no longer chasing after her. Her mind was racing all over. ‘Why did I do this? Now Pope might be hurt or even-’

The sudden strange noise behind her startled her, making her wake up from the sudden memories of the events that happened she shook her head no in total disbelief at the man right in front of her. He was standing just a few meters across her, maybe she could still make a run for it and get back before him.

“I told you to stop running.”

“You’re psychotic!” She yelled in the hope someone was nearby and could come to save her.

"And you cheated on me."

"That doesn't give you the right to beat him..."

A small ‘hm’ escaped his lips as he started approaching her. “Stay away!” She yelled once more, throwing a small rock in his direction. Dodging the rock that was just thrown to his figure, he grabbed her by the back of the neck, looking her dead in the eyes. “I killed Peterskin. Did he tell you that part?” It was obvious she didn’t know by the expression of shock on her face. “Where did all that courage you had just go?” Rafe joked.

Tears were starting to form in the corner of her eyes. “You’ll be in jail for what you did…not only to Peterkin but to-” “Those pogues?” He cut immediately after her, furrowing his eyebrows he tightened his grip around her. “They got what they deserved.”

She couldn’t even look him in the eyes after everything he did. But she had the courage let people know the truth about what happened, the people he murdered, and the ones he attempted to. Chucking a bit to himself he lets go of her. “But you know what? I’m a fair man…” Beyond being high off his mind he was also loving seeing her so tense and nervous, fighting with all her strenght to get back to that Pogue. A sudden grin grew on his lips, understanding exactly what she was thinking. “You know what? Fine.” He nodded his head, “Let’s play a little game.”

Looking at him confused, (Y/n) was about to open her mouth to speak. “You run…and I try to catch you. If you get to that pogue first I’ll hand myself to the police.” She knew it was impossible to run from him, and he knew she knew it. But what choice did she have? Even if it was 1 chance in 100, she would take it.

“But-”

Locking his eyes with hers, he smirked. “But if I catch you, you’ll have to go back with me. Stay quiet about this whole situation and…” Caressing gently her cheek he spoke. “Never talk to those pogues ever again.”

Her teary (e/c) stared back at him. “You’re fucking psychotic…” “Yet you still love me, don’t you?”

Letting go of her he took his jacket off and wrapped it gently around her shoulders. “Or we can just cut the bullshit and you come home with me right now.” Pushing him away she shook her head no. “You might even be surprised by the outcome of this stupid game.”

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Part II (Available Soon)

English is not my first language but i hope you enoyed :P

[pedgito]

Eddie with his cute and soft sadistic girlfriend. Just feels right.

author's note: okay, but why is this so fucking cute?? i always have different interpretations of the requests people send in, so i hope it's not too far off from what you were going for.

cw: 18+ (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, threats of violence (words/weapons), sub!eddie (if you squint really fucking hard), breath-play/hair pulling (small pain kink i guess?), aggressive but soft reader (i swear), and more smut, as per usual (heed the tags)

word count: 1.9k

It wasn’t something Eddie noticed at first, just how aggressively you came to his side whenever people were talking shit about him, spreading rumors, it seemed like normal behavior, until he realized there was a different tone to the way you talked to people. 

“It’s too bad stupidity isn’t painful.” You interject one day, attempting to knock Jason down a peg during one of his rants about how this town was turning to shit and it was all because of those damned ‘devil worshipers’—god forbid you wear black, or listen to heavy metal music, or even so much as stray from the normal, clean cut image of the other people in town, because if you did, you were doomed. 

“The fuck did you say, freak?” Jason seethes, eyes squinted. “You think you’re funny?”

“Mm, yeah—actually,” You cock your head ever so slightly, shoving a painted nail in his direction, “what’s even funnier is when I sneak into your room at night to watch you sleep—I bet no one knows about Mr. Fuzzy, right?”

Low blow, but the look on his face is worth it. You found out about his stuffed bear after Chrissy mentioned something to you when they first started dating—“Should I be weirder out that he sleeps in bed with it?” She’d asked, feeling guilty for thinking oddly of it. It wasn’t that big of deal—but he was beyond his normal level of assholery today, and you could give less of a fuck (plus, creeping Jason out was always the cherry on top of an argument with him). Chrissy never told him you were friends, afraid he might view her differently. It was fine, really—Chrissy was a sweet girl and you had formed an odd, but comforting friendship with her, even if no one knew about it. 

Jason grips the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white. He wants to retaliate—physically, emotionally, his fuse was getting shorter and shorter, but so was yours. You shoot forward in an act of defiance, scaring him back into his seat.

“Pussy.” You mumble under your breath, sinking back into your own seat. 

⋆·˚ ༘ *

And then there was the time that Jason thought it would be hilarious to send one of his basketball minions to mess with Eddie, stealing his guitar pick necklace out of his van. He hardly ever took it off, but during a particularly wild sex morning between the both of you he’d set it on the dashboard—it was ridiculous, the length Jason was willing to go to make your life miserable, and in turn, Eddie’s.

You’d caught them after school the next day, huddled up for their evening practice, talking about some party—or girl, or whatever it was that they liked to brag out. 

“Hey!” You call out, fist connecting with Jason’s face. “Where the fuck is it?”

Eddie was hot on your tail, attempting to pull your arms back. But, you forced yourself out of his grip, as difficult as it may have been. Eddie was more scared of you hurting someone, than hurting yourself—but part of him couldn’t find the need to stop you now. So, when you wriggle out of his grasp, he doesn’t try to hold you back again.

“What are you talking about?” Jason retorted, trying to sound nonchalant about it. He looked meek, terrified even. “Get the fuck out of here.”

You couldn’t help but see red, grabbing onto the lapels of his letterman jacket and forcing him against the wall, even Jason was surprised by the upperhand you had. “The necklace, where is it?” Your grip tightened, squeezing around his throat slightly. 

He coughed, hands coming up to grasp at your wrist, forcing you away from him. “What fucking necklace?” He asked, dumbfounded. 

“Fuck this,” You grumbled, pulling out the pocketknife tucked into Eddie’s pants, shoving it at Jason, who immediately retreats away from you, back against the wall, “Tell me or you’re going to have one very serious problem to deal with.”

You weren’t actually going to use it, not really. You knew that Jason was easily subdued when he realized he couldn’t outwit or overpower you—he was scared. You fell into the image of the psychopath he viewed you as, it’s exactly what you needed to have him cowering in fear, embarrassing himself in front of his entire team. 

“It’s in the trash—the trash out by the front entrance of the school.” He blurts out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Him. He was the problem. 

You took the basketball from Patrick’s hand, slicing into it with the small, sharp blade of the knife before handing it back over, staring directly at Jason.

“If I see or hear one more joke about Eddie come out of your mouth, it’ll be the last thing you say.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“You know you don’t have to act like that.” Eddie tells you, curled up against you on the sheets of his bed. “I can handle it.”

“But you don’t, you just let them say all of this shit, even when it’s not true.” You couldn’t understand why it didn’t upset him, not with how strongly it upset you. But, you cared about Eddie, that’s where your weakness lies. “It’s not fair.”

“I stopped caring a long time ago.” His face is blank, staring up at his ceiling. “That shit doesn’t even faze me anymore—it used to, but you just have to embrace that shit, you know.”

“Yeah, I think I might’ve scared Jason into pissing his pants.” Eddie laughed, hand absently stroking your thigh from where it was resting on top of his lap. “Ever since I turned him down freshman year, it’s like he can’t stand the fact that I chose you and not him.”

“Well, good thing you chose me.” Eddie smiles fondly, maneuvering you until you’re resting over him, arms folded over his chest, chin resting against your hands as you stared down at him. “I really don’t think he could handle you.”

“And you can?” Eyebrow raised slightly in amusement, watching Eddie’s expression change. You knew that look. “Prove it.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“So fuckin’ tight,” Eddie groans out, fingers in a vice grip around the curves of your waist, watching the way his dick disappeared inside of you, again and again, as you moved frantically above him. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart, Eddie.” You gasped out, the palm of his hand coming down on your ass in a rough slap, bound to leave a mark. His shirt is bunched high up his chest, both of you too impatient to bother taking it off. You twist your fingers in the fabric, using it to rock yourself down onto him, Eddie just as eager as he lifted himself up, hitting something deep inside that had you pulling tighter, moaning out his name, the crisp air doing nothing to cool your feverish body.

“Come on, baby.” Eddie begs, fingers tracing lines up your body, over the sensitive skin of your stomach; a slow, tantalizing trace around your nipple, and then the other, until his fingers were a few inches from the nape of your neck, winding it your hair and pulling it taut. “What’s wrong with sweetheart?”

You would never get over that. 

You laugh softly, feeling the tinge of pain as your neck strained back. Eddie was observing you, still while somehow encompassing the softness he always held with you. 

“You better watch that mouth,” It’s a playful warning; but a warning, nonetheless. Eddie liked to fight back, he always did. 

“Or what?” His free hand came up to run along the slope of your lips, finger dragging down your bottom lip teasingly, until Eddie was forcing his pointer finger inside the wet heat of your mouth, waiting a few seconds before adding another. “Can’t shut me up, not when you’re bouncing on my, fuck—my dick, like this.”

He’s close, his voice tightening, thighs flexing underneath you. You’d spent enough time learning the signs, learning his body. He groaned at the faint squeeze of your walls against his dick, a careful warning that if he kept it up, this would all be over sooner than you both wanted it to be. 

Your hand follows the lines of his chest, up along his neck, moving the thin material of his shirt out of the way and wrapping your delicate fingers around his throat. It was a light touch, barely any pressure at all. Eddie closes his eyes, nodding slightly. He wanted it.

“Let’s test that,” Your voice is dripping with sweetness, but laced with a faint trace of warning, “ready?”

He nods again, hand still in a vice grip, wrapped up in your hair. He’s staring at your breasts, shamelessly, but you needed his attention. You two always had boundaries, despite how far you would take it—you both always had an out, never push the other too far. It was a sacred rule that you both promised to abide by. “Need to hear you, babe—say it.”

“Yes, fuck—yeah, I’m ready.” 

You apply pressure, the lightest, tiniest bit—feeling the pace of Eddie’s thrust slow, losing himself in the feel of your hand around his throat, his dick buried inside of you—so fucking deep, you thought. It was the only thing dragging your focus away from him, the feeling of being full. 

He breathes out, lips curving up into a smirk—he enjoyed it way too much. “More,” His hand grips your hair tighter, the other squeezing your ass as he lifts you up and slams you back down, “I can take it.”

More pressure, his hips faltering in their pace—“I didn’t tell you to stop fucking me,” His eyes slowly connect with yours, “More?”

Eddie nods, whimpering out a soft—“Yeah.”, as his nails dug into your skin, leaving faint crescent shaped marks. Your fingers tighten a fraction—but Eddie can’t make it, the feeling of you around him, all over him—“I’m close, babe.”

You nod, quickly removing your hand from his throat, allowing him to flip you both over. Eddie rearranged your legs easily, knees forced to your chest as he fucks up into you, leaving you to do nothing but take it—crying out from every inch of you being consumed, desperately grasping onto Eddie’s arm.

His hand sneaks between your legs, helping you fall apart beneath him, knowing exactly what you needed. “Good girl.” He murmurs, mouthing along the line of your collarbone, “So cute when you come like that—fuck, love those little sounds you make.”

If there was anyone to soften your hard exterior, it was Eddie. It was always Eddie. It doesn’t take much longer for him to come undone either, groans muffled into your skin, hands gripping onto your for dear life, afraid if he let go he might not make it back.

When he finally recovers, he has the nerve to look amused, a smile creeping onto his face, “Good girl,” His hand brushes a few stray hairs out of your face, “that one’s okay?” You nod, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Got it, no more sweetheart.”

“I’m not sweet, Eddie.” It was a fair statement, the description didn’t fit. “I never have been.”

Eddie laughs softly, hand curling around the back of your neck to tilt your lips up to meet his own, tongue swirling into your mouth, pulling a soft squeal out of you when his hand dives lower, squeezing at your ass. 

“And I don’t want you to be.” Eddie never tried to change you or force you to act a certain way. He wanted you for what you were and how strongly you protected the people you care about. Eddie was the only one who’s ever cracked the surface, he knew all of you. The soft center, the hard edges—it didn’t matter to him. “I love you, baby.”

Your face softened, finger coming up to trace the outline of his nose. “I love you too.”

[rotomblr-snapshots]

[ACTUAL SUBMISSION RULES UNDER THE CUT]

Hi! I'm Professor Camerupt Wattle, but just call me Cam! I specialise in studying behaviour of people and pokemon, and actively go through Ultra Space to observe all kinds of people!

I'd love to hear about any people or events you know, and the larger sample size, the better. Who knows, maybe they'll join Rotomblr next! And I'll point out people as they join, so that we can put a picture to the person!

You can find my gorgeous wife Joey @hauoli-hybrid-clinic !

Stay picture perfect!

Hi! This is @darlingsuperstition / @oh-shinx , she/it. Welcome to the Rotomblr Snapshots resource blog, where you can share those random ideas you might just not want to do yourself, but think someone else might!

To submit ideas, just describe it to any degree of detail in either an ask or submission! Feel free to do it in or out of character, either way works! New one's will be tagged with [#new snapshot]

If you make a blog based on one of these ideas, I'll reblog it with [#matched muse!] and promo your blog

Anything in character as Cam will be [#cam's camera]

Please be patient, this is the first time I'm doing a resource blog

Have fun!

[noforkingclue]

The Proposal (Thomas Shelby x reader)

Summary: with the road leading away from Arrow House blocked, you’re forced to spend more time with one of the people you hate the most. Turns out, he has an interesting offer for you.

Author’s Note: written for @runnning-outof-time celebration!!! I went with the last column on the right: snowed in, enemies to lovers, must include: a proposal, angst

So, I might’ve stretched the prompts a liiitle bit. It’s more ‘enemies to future lovers’ and you didn’t specify that the proposal had to be romantic! Hope this still counts!

Any way, hope you like the fic! I had a lot of fun writing it.

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Peaky Blinders tag list: @stylesofloki, @ohshititsfenharel, @lenaskyler02

Thomas Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts, @darlingdevil, @lyrxbz, @watercolorskyy, @notyour-valentine

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You shivered as the icy wind gusted over you. You took a deep drag of your cigarette and slowly blew the smoke out. Snow fluttered to the ground, the only flakes visible to you were those right in front of you. The rest of them were lost to the inky darkness of the night. You didn’t realise just how dark the countryside got at night. How quiet and unnerving it was to someone who was used to city life. How easy it would be for you to disappear and get lost in a place that most city dwellers saw as a romantic escape.

A heavy coat was draped over your shoulders and you half looked over as Tommy came and stood next to you. He wordlessly lit a cigarette as the two of you watched the snowfall.

“You should come inside,” he said, “It’s too fucking cold out here. I’ve had a fire lit in your room.”

“I like the cold.”

“Why.”

“It reminds me just how far we’ve come. How far my family have come.”

You still remembered those bitterly cold nights huddled up with your siblings for any sort of warmth. Your father clawed his way out of the gutter, determined to build a better life for your family. If only you had known what the role he had given you was to be. You threw your cigarette stub onto the snow covered ground, smiling slightly as it hissed out.

“When will I be able to leave?” you asked

“You should stay.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Not until Monday.” Tommy said and you swore you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice

Fuck. Today was Friday. You didn’t want to spend the weekend with Thomas Shelby. Strong hands gripped your shoulders and you tensed under his grip. After a second you shrugged him off and hugged yourself tightly.

“You’d be more comfortable inside.” Tommy said

“And I’d be more relaxed away for you, yet here I am.”

Tommy sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“I know you don’t want to be here.”

“No shit.”

“But you’re stuck here now.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

You walked off slightly as you took out your packet of cigarettes. The snow beneath you glowed slightly orange from the lights from Arrow House. You cursed as you tried to find your lighter.

“Looking for something?”

The crunch of Tommy’s footsteps slowly approaching you made you stiffen. The click of the lighter cut through the night like a knife and the glow from the flame cast eerie shadows over Tommy’s face. The darkness around him seemed even more deep and foreboding.

“Thanks.” You muttered as you reached for the lighter

“Let me.”

“I’m more than capable of doing this myself.”

“I know.”

Still, for some reason you let Tommy light your cigarette for you. You found yourself unwittingly captivated by his blue eyes and wondered just how many women had been in the same situation before you. The snapping shut of the lighter dragged you back out of your thoughts. A surprisingly comfortable silence lapsed over the two of you.

“On Monday you will be free to leave.” Said Tommy tensely

“You wouldn’t have been able to stop me.”

“Your father might have words to say about that.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what my father thinks.”

“A lot of people do.”

“Including you?”

The look Tommy gave you told you everything. You let out a disgusted noise and said,

“I’m more than just a pawn for men to push around a fucking chessboard.”

“I understand.”

“Not really. You could never understand my position.”

Tommy’s hands were back on your shoulders. He rubbed small circles against them and whispered,

“I have a proposal for you.”

You tried to pull free but Tommy roughly pulled you back against him. You swallowed thickly as his warm chest was pressed against your back. His hands slid down your arms and circled around your wrists.

“I’m not going to marry you,” you said, your voice cracking slightly at the thought, “I don’t want to. I’m not doing what my father wants me to. Not any more.”

“There are many types of proposals, are there not?”

“And what did you have in mind? I thought I made it very clear that I want no part of my father’s plan.”

When you tried to pull free Tommy sighed and spun you around. He used his coat to secure your arms against your sides. He pulled you close and you felt his lips brush aching close against yours.

“I know what you want.”

“And what’s that?”

“Control.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“I can help you gain that.”

“And what do you want in return?”

“A partnership.”

“I have no interest in having a partnership with you.”

“I’m sure I can change your mind.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“But in this case I mean a strictly business partnership.”

“And what if I say no?”

“I doubt you will.”

The falling snow seemed to adsorb all sound. You could feel the flakes soak through Tommy’s coat and you resisted the urge to lean into his warm embrace. You wanted to accept his offer, to seek a bloody revenge for how your father had treated you.

But you couldn’t.

If you turned against your father who knew what he would do to those you cared about. Your mother, sisters, friends, fuck, even your brothers might be at risk. You had been on the receiving end of your father’s abuse once too often and you winced when Tommy brush a thumb over the bruise under your eye. Something flashed across his face, a look you had seen all too often.

Anger.

Tommy, as though he had read your mind, stepped away from you. You found yourself missing the warmth of his arms and you quickly looked away. You shuffled your feet as Tommy continued to look at you and you wished the darkness would swallow you whole. You wished that your father hadn’t sent you to Arrow House. You wished that there was any way out of your family other than the obvious choice that lay before you.

“My father,” you said, “If I turn against them in this way who knows what’ll happen.”

“Aren’t you turning against them by not agreeing to unite our families?”

“He’ll get over this,” you said, although doubt coiled in the pit of your stomach, “He’ll find another gang.”

“I can protect you from him.”

“There’s only so much you can do,” you said bitterly, “Even the almighty powerful Shelby family will eventually meet their match.”

“And you think it’ll be your father.”

“Has to be someone. Why not him?”

“You overestimate him, love.”

“Or maybe you’re underestimating him.”

You walked back towards Arrow House, brushing passed Tommy as you went.

“Now I’m off to bed,” you called over your shoulder, “Alone. You said a fire has been lit?”

“Correct.”

“Good. You’re right about one thing- it is fucking freezing.”

Tommy’s chuckle followed you as you made you way back towards the warmth.

“Y/n.”

You stopped at the door and turned around. Tommy slowly approached you, the deepening snow crunching under his foot.

“What.”

“You still have my coat.”

“My apologies.”

You lowered your arms as Tommy slowly slipped the thick coat off of your shoulders. He leant closer, lips brushing against your cheek as he said,

“Don’t forget, we still have two more days together. I’m sure I can change your mind.”

“I’ll look forward to your attempts.”

As you made your way to your room Tommy couldn’t help but smile. What he didn’t tell you was that it was predicted to continue to snow even heavier on Monday. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

By the end of the week, you’ll be completely his.

[damnation-if]

Hi, I just played the demo and I loved it! I was wondering if you could give us an estimate of when the next update is coming?👉👈 (Or link a relevant post, if you already talked about and I just didn't scroll down far enough to see it 😆)

Also, I wanted to check, can you be in a romantic relationship with more than one character, and not just a sexual one? Because I might be in love with every single character in this game 🤭

hi, thank you! i'm glad you're enjoying the game :) i've answered the question about romancing multiple characters a couple of times in a couple of different asks but the posts all kind of link back to each other so you should be able to find all the info by. following the various links in each ask i think, starting here XD

i'm going to put the answer to your other question under a cut because some of it is quite emotional for me

i did Sort Of talk about this at the time when it happened, by which i mean that rather than making a post, i talked about it in the tags of an unrelated post i was using to distract myself (i think it was character playlists and how i'm not sure if it's a good idea to do them or not if i recall), but earlier this year while i was already going through a really rough time, my laptop died and i lost a lot of work on the game.

i knew my laptop was old and that this was possibly approaching so i made regular backups and the good news is that because i write in a separate word document and keep backups of those also i didn't actually lose any Writing. however. my twine has a problem in that every second or third game file that i publish from the build is Haunted - it contains passages i removed weeks ago, or writing that i deleted long before publishing it, that kind of weird annoying shit. (other authors have seen my files do this lmfao) and i just have to hope that the backups i make either won't be needed or aren't haunted. anyway... because hope is futile, the last backup i made was indeed haunted, and utterly useless to me as a recovery file. because it's just twine, i still have all the writing, as i mentioned... but i would have to re-code the entire chapter and put it all back together again because of how much the file did not export, which is a complicated and daunting process.

so i made a rambling explanation of this in the tags of a post and decided to take maybe a couple of days off and cool down from this specific disaster before getting into it.

i wake up the next morning to find the IF community absolutely plastered all over with Helpful Informative PSA posts about how Silly it is not to make backups and how if you just make backups you'll never have problems again and you should know better than to not make backups.

now. i'm not a catastrophist. i know for a fact that nobody was making or spreading these posts out of cruelty or a desire to make me feel bad. i also know that it's not particularly realistic to expect people who don't even know me to hunt down the source of a piece of hearsay that's like "i heard from someone that someone said that an author lost a bunch of their files and is really upset about it" to find out what the situation is and whether or not it's what they imagine. i don't even think the vast majority of people knew who it was that was the author involved, or who i am either.

but to already be going through an extremely stressful time and then lose my laptop on top of that and then be obliquely referenced by people i thought of as my peers as kind of just a big silly bumbling goose who didn't know how to manage my files and a "don't be like this person" attitude really, really hurt me. i can't express just how deeply it hurt me. one particular author was openly laughing at me and saying it was my own fault for being too stupid to make backups using a certain twine peripheral program.

so. there was a period of time where i could have found the motivation to just restart the whole chapter myself and re-code it in a frenzy because i wanted to get right back into writing it because. like a lot of authors, i LOVE writing. that's why i do this even when it's difficult. but that potential recovery was sandblasted away by the reactions of people that i thought of as my colleagues in some sense (even though i understand that they didn't do it with bad intentions, in most cases). and i hope people can understand that it greatly lengthened the amount of time i needed to spend away from the game recovering emotionally, despite being a Very Small issue to most people. i'm literally upset again just typing out this answer lmfao

however one other small piece of good news is that my laptop seemingly just lost the ability to turn itself on (because of its age) so i Think the hard drive is intact. meaning that i think i can get someone to pull all the files off it and just have them back fine once i do. the other piece of bad news is that my life is a trainwreck! and i cannot afford that right now. which is why i sort of pivoted to writing the 2000 follower celebration sidegame as a way to enjoy myself while i hurtle through hell sdjgbdfhfdgh

shortly after this thing with the laptop the house i was living in was sold out from underneath me, even though it wasn't supposed to be, and i had to find somewhere to live with my 18 year old cat, but the city i lived in had zero places that would allow cats (they're totally fine with Dogs though of course) so i had to move to an entirely new city on my own while worrying about her health. and right now i spend every fortnight desperately trying to scrape together enough to survive the next fortnight. there were entire months where i had no access to internet! it's been pretty Bad!!

so i get that people really want updates, and i'm really flattered that people do and it makes me happy that people like the game so much. but i am currently expending so much time and energy trying not to die lmfao, and i need to save up the money to get my files back around that. i truly cannot tell you when the next update will be, but i promise you that it Haunts me, probably more than you can imagine XD the sidegame will Definitely come out before it though, if that's something you're looking forward to.

thank you again for your message, and i'm sorry that i don't have good news for you. but i am trying, constantly. every day.

[ars-matron]

The Tarot Sequence Reread

Nothing has given me brain rot in a long while like the Tarot Sequence by K D Edwards has. And since I just finished reading all the supplemental stuff right when my hold for The Last Sun came back up I thought I would do something I have only done once before-and in a much less flattering way for a book I hated-and live blog my reread.

There's just so much in this series I need to pay closer attention to. And usually I would go on here and read some metas, but there is literally nothing!! The only things in the tags for this series is people wishing there were more people reading it, a handful of very wonderful fanarts, and an account of the decline of a discord that evidently used to exist for it. So, maybe this will encourage some people to read the books too.

Because there are some heavy topics in this series anytime I talk about such topics I will tag for them, but if they don't come up in the chapters I'm reviewing, I won't. So if you have certain things back listed you might not see all my posts on it. Anyone who is reading along and is curious about it can DM me.

NOW! Predictions and things I want to pay attention to under the cut for spoiler reasons.

The Tower. At the end of the prologue of the first book my thoughts were, " So we trust NO ONE!!" Except Queenie, because why would Rune and Brand live with her if she was evil? Then the children showed up and I had to trust them, they were too young to be part of the, whole thing, plus they are so cute. You have to trust them. And then Addam came along, and of course we trust him, he's an Addam, he's a giant dancing teddy bear and I love him! So I read the whole series (that's out so far) expecting we would find out the Tower was an evil guy, that he had had something to do with the fall of the Sun Throne. Honestly by the end of the third book I didn't think that any longer, and I was starting to before that after finding out he was also Qunn's godfather because!!! There is no way Qunn wouldn't have seen if the Tower revealed he had been a part of all that. (I'm still asking myself HOW exactly he or Mayan wouldn't have noticed an astral projection listening device being installed in Rune's room at their freaking tower that is super locked down! But then it happened for two other locations that were supposed to be super warded and protected my other companions too. So maybe it isn't his fault. I do think he might blame himself, I do think that some of his stand-offishness might also be guilt for not being able to stop the attack on the Sun Throne to start with. We will see...) I'm going to go into this read through with the assumption he is just lonely and sad and not a bad guy.

QUEENIE!!!! Because, WHO THE FUCK IS QUEENIE!? I was already suspicious because every time someone asks Rune and Brand where she came from, or how long she's been with them, they say "She's been with us forever." Every time! It reeks of mind fuckery. Then Eidolon and the epilogue that wasn't came along. Current theory is that she is the Empress, and also that she's probably Rune's mother. I would be willing to bet she was the woman at the end of the third book who spoke up to the river after everyone else. Edwards did a good job of making her disappear in the background, but I'm gonna be hunting for every mention of her and how she acts around everyone.

Ciaran, just because I love him and at first also suspected him of evil deeds. But he's just your gay vodka uncle and he loves all his adopted family so much and I just want to keep a closer on him at the start of the series.

Kellum. We only see him once in the second book, but he's mentioned in Eidolon by the Fool (Or Queenie pretending to be the Fool, again I'm not sure, there's Queenie interference for sure) And he was in one of the supplemental novellas. I think he will be making a bigger appearance in the next book.

Quinn's prophecies. I'll probably make a list of those for a separate master post.

Tallas. The Atlantean soul mates. This is a MAJOR spoiler. Rune says that Brand and he formed a talla bond the night of the attack. That it was what brought Brand out of the geas and got them to safety. The bond was gone when he woke up in the hospital and he's spent this whole time thinking he's somehow broken their talla bond. Something definitely happened between him and Addam in the Westlands, and I don't think Addam was wrong in assuming it was the budding of a talla bond. Because something sort of bond-like is also there now after the Hourglass Throne, after he used his bond with Brand to get him and Addam back to their time. My theory here is that they might be each other tallas, all three of them. Together. We know that it doesn't have to be a sexual relationship, though I don't think Addam would mind that one bit. Everything is pointing to the three of them being tied together somehow, and my theory is mostly that, before they were together together, no one talla bond could form and take precedence over the other. Now that they are together all the time, going on missions, living together, they have more opportunities for a bond to fully form and take hold. Assuming it involves all three of them.

And with that, I'm going to go read!