#if it helps just call me difficult to them. they all saw me growing up i'm already the oddball it's fine

[nametakensff]

Autism rant under the cut

Unmasking autism is really fucking difficult. Telling people they can't just spring things on me the day before, asserting my boundaries and saying I don't want to go to things and I don't need an excuse to not go is literally met with the exact same 'don't be difficult/selfish/antisocial' shit I got BEFORE I was diagnosed with a literal fucking disability

It's like neurotypical society is built on misery and obligation. Like why should I have to care about making a person feel bad by pulling out of an event I agreed to under circumstances that have now changed, when they don't give a fuck about how uncomfortable I would feel by going?

I've sat through countless meals, a fucking terrible wedding this year, so many things just to make other people happy and waste my time and it's getting increasingly impossible to pretend that I give a fuck about these events

Why is it that at nearly the age of 29, a grown adult with supposedly all this autonomy and 2 confirmed developmental disorders, am I receiving even more push back?? Am I not my own person??

Sorry if I'm 'making everything about AuDHD' all the time. It is LITERALLY how my brain works!! It affects EVERYTHING I DO and it ALWAYS HAS. I have spent my ENTIRE LIFE trying to figure out why things are so hard for me and why other people don't struggle the way I do. Being 'high-functioning' just means that people feel comfortable gaslighting me about my own abilities, and expect me to continue to hurt myself for them because I can hide it. I can pretend to care, I can show up and smile and talk shit and do it fucking well, but why should I when I get home and sit and stare at a wall afterwards due to total fatigue and sensory overload??

It's like having an identity crisis. How much of me is the mask? Will everyone hate me once I stop masking? I'm not worried about my close friends or my sister one bit because I'm essentially unmasked around them already but everyone else??.....idk man. I almost wish I was less competent in social settings because it feels like people think I'm lying about my disability

[luna-loveboop]

Wars and Wild as knights in Lu

They have issues.

I have a lot of thoughts on Wild and Wars and their relationship (Order of this post is talking about saluting, Wild and Wars' different perspectives, memory issues, and fire) Rant time.

No saluting!!

So Wild took a formal- almost/awkwardly saluting pose when Wars confronted him in 'Entrance pt.2'

It's similar to the first time Wild addressed Wars as 'captain'. His left hand is up from where a salute should be, and his overall posture is awkward, with his shoulders and right hand raised, but it's clear he's trying to do a salute in the presence of a fellow knight.

In the second example his hand is behind his head, but his posture is very straight and his right arm stiff- he's again attempting a formal saluting position. Which is still awkward

It is less clear but his changes in posture clued me in. He goes from like a deer in the headlights to visibly sweating to straight backed and looking up at Wars- looking at the changes in his body language

Side note but I literally love how Jojo draws the champions tunic so much-

We can't see the action of Wild's body language in a comic, just the positions he went to. But he visibly leaned away from Wars before switching to a straight backed saluting-like posture. He's clearly freaked out, hence Twilight's face: >:(

I think that Wild taking somewhat military poses around Wars is important to their relationship issues because it comes from his struggle with memory and identity

.

So like. All of them have different perspectives

Wars

I adore Wars. He is baby and I love him. I think it is also important to acknowledge that he would not speak to any of the others this way.

And the scarf man cmon it's so pretty they are so cute-

Why is Wars talking to Wild like this? He's called him out and reprimanded him multiple times in front of the others. Wild has taken it well but tbh if it was Legend I think he would be on fire.

To some extent I think he is in captain mode. I think that he has trouble seeing Wild as not a knight. Wars gives Wild respect as a knight who sacrificed for his kingdom, but now it seems he's taking it away as a knight who's not doing well enough since he 'disregarded the plan'

At least I think that's the outside (or Wild's) view of it. But Wars internally really cares about Wild and he saw him run up to a giant and lose it. Different ways of showing concern perhaps?

Who wouldn't want to keep Wild from getting more scars?

I just. Don't doubt for a second Wars really cares about Wild- even if the way he's acting still isn't cool. He has no right to treat him like a soldier any more than the rest of the chain, and right now I think Wild is acting as the more mature person.

Wild

I adore Wild. He is baby and I love him. I think it is also important to acknowledge that although he is clearly making efforts after Twilight's injury, Wild has ignored Wars for the majority of Lu, by not speaking to him much, and not thanking or acknowledging Wars when he directly helped him. (Small example being walking with Hyrule not Wars when injured and not directly responding to Wars)

Wars cares about and respects Wild, but it seems Wild wants nothing to do with him, and he's been cold towards Wars for the majority of Lu. To Wild, Wars reminds him of his perceived failure. Which is valid feelings, but still not fair. And I think that ask is talking about these two.

The thing I love about this is each of them are right and wrong in some ways, leading to the tension between them. So fully blaming either of them is not logical

The rest of the chain is just vibing. Except twilight who's mad and wants them to just grow up, but. Heros of courage not wisdom @uniquevoidflowers ;)

And that ask- '''Are any of the Links ever jealous of another Link for adventures that were less difficult/life threatening?'' ''When you hear Wild say he 'hates' someone you'll have your answer.''' somewhat leads to my next point-

Wild's identity and memory issues exacerbate all of this

In Entrance, Twilight is being stressed and defensive, that's ok. What concerns me most is that Twilight has talked with Wild through stuff like this in his rough moments

Wild has tried to be formal several times- he is not very good at it

Four's face I can't didnwidkekfjej

Wild isn't and can't be 'him'- the same 'perfect' (<actually has crippling anxiety) knight he was before, and Twilight knows this. And I agree with him a bit, I think, that Wars is making things worse in Wild's mind by being that perfect soldier, and seemingly holding Wild to a standard he isn't

Wild's attempts at saluting is symbolic of that- Wars makes him feel like a failure trying to be the person he should be. But Wild shouldn't be anyone but himself.

Anyways. Fire.

Wars and Wild have issues, and I want them to work through all their relationship drama so they can reach their PEAK dynamic, which is obviously this

I mean like. We need these two to be friends

Anyways. Wild is in this constant state of identity crisis, and being around Wars has not been beneficial- neither of them is or has been showing the other the respect they deserve. Not as knights, but as people and brothers. They need a get along shirt.

All this Art is by Jojo @linkeduniverse au!

:)

[nurse-floyd]

MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON MAX VER-STRAP-ON

Oh Viv...this is PURE absolute filth and you are 100% to blame haha!

Warnings: pure pure smut, pegging.

Max was pissed. You could hear it in the way his voice sounded when he let his engineer know his car was actually on fire. Couldn’t miss it in the way he stomped out of the car and ripped his helmet and balaclava off and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. You wanted nothing more than to run to his side, hug him and tell him it was okay. But, he still had a job to do, a race to watch and a debrief to attend. Later that night, you’d just have to show him just how much you loved him and give him a reason not to write the whole day off as a shit show. 

“Hey Maxie,” you knew he loved it when you called him that, “come here,” you said softly as you held your arms out toward him. 

The weight was still heavy in his shoulders as he practically fell into your arms, his head resting on your shoulder. You knew Max inside and out and could see he was still beating himself up, despite it not being his fault. 

Yeah…tonight was going to be all about him. You were going to remind him of his worth, why Max Verstappen deserved to be called world champion. It was going to be a night to erase the day he’d had. 

Max dragged his feet as he moved across the hotel room and sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders sagging as he let out a long sigh. You followed him and climbed on the bed behind him and wrapped your arms around his chest. You could feel his frustration as you gently massaged his shoulders, stroked his hair and offered him comfort. 

“You’ll get them next time,” you whispered in his ear,” that ended with you nipping at his ear. 

He leaned his head back, his eyes closed as he let out a groan. You could tell it was working, could feel him relaxing as his body sagged against your chest and you knew it was time to take things further. With your free hand, you ran it down his chest and stomach before you teased at the waistband of his jeans. It had the desired effect as you saw the bulge in his pants grow at your touch. 

“Let me take care of you tonight,” you murmured, your hot breath tickling his ears. “Just relax baby, let me take away all that frustration. Make you feel good.” 

You stood on your knees and made an attempt to unbuckle his belt, it was difficult from the angle but he gladly helped. As soon as the belt was off and the button and zipper were undone, you slipped your hands beneath the waistband of his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his hardening cock. 

Max gasped at the contact, letting out a hiss as his eyes fluttered closed at the pleasure that shot through him. You started slowly, your movements gently as you teased him, knowing exactly how to drive him crazy. 

“That’s it sweetheart,” you growled softly in his ear, “you might not have won today, but we're definitely going to make up for it tonight.” 

You could feel just how much he was enjoying it as you watched his chest rise and fall quicker as his breathing picked up. This was only the beginning though. He groaned as you released your grip on his cock and stood up from the bed. He watched as you slipped out of your own clothes, revealing the lacy lingerie set you knew he loved. Regardless of whether he won or lost you knew you’d be having sex with him that night, so you were prepared. 

“Got a surprise for you tonight, baby,” you said as you retrieved a strap-on hardness, lube and a pink dildo from your luggage. The perks of traveling on a private jet…no TSA. You strapped it on, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. The sight of you taking control with the bright pink dildo strapped around your waist had his cock twitching all over again. 

“Get undressed for me, Max. I’m going to take charge tonight. Give you just what you need,” your eyes darkened a little, you loved watching him like this, all submissive. “I’m going to fuck you Max, peg you hard and remind you just how fucking special you are.” 

Max didn’t have to be told twice. He pulled his top off, revealing his toned abs and shrugged his jeans and boxers all the way off, throwing them to the side. He was putty in your hands. 

You made a move to where he stood, completely naked and pushed him backwards onto the bed. Max’s breath caught in his throat as you joined him, straddling his waist and positioning yourself between his legs. 

“Like the view?” you teased, seeing the way he was staring at you, chest heaving as he focussed on the bright pink dildo. “You’re going to let me take care of you tonight. Take my cock like the good boy I know you are.” 

He nodded, licking his dry lips. You leaned down, capturing his lips with your own, deepening the kiss as your tongue dipped into his mouth. You gripped his hard and swollen cock and gave it a few tugs as you stroked it in time with your kisses. 

“I want you nice and hard for this, baby,” you whispered into his ear with another nip before you sat up and positioned the head of the dildo at Max’s entrance. With a gentle but firm push, you entered the tip of the dildo, pausing for a moment for him to get used to the stretch. 

“Such a good boy for me,” you groaned, as you looked at his face, wanting to savor the pure bliss of his expression. “So tight for me.” 

Slowly, you pushed in further and let him adjust to the girth a little longer before you began to slowly move your hips in a steady rhythm. Max’s eyes closed, his mouth open as he became lost in the sensation. The bliss was heightened further when you leaned down, angling the dildo just right as you kissed and nibbled at his neck. 

“You like taking my cock like that, baby?” 

“Fuck…yes,” he moaned as he moved his head back, expposing his neck for you further. 

His response only encouraged you further as you increased the pace of your thrusts, sliding the dildo in and out of his tight hole. Your hand joined in as he wrapped around his cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts. 

“Cum for me, baby,” you urged, “want to feel you tighten around my cock as you explode.” 

Those were all the words he needed to hear, the angle of the dildo and the strokes on his cock were enough to send him over the edge as he cried out, his body arching as the waves of pleasure washed over him and he released himself. 

He collapsed back on the bed, chest heaving as you pulled out from him. You lay down beside him, tracing patterns on his chest as he calmed down. 

“That was incredible,” Max murmured, his voice hoarse from the night's activities, “I needed that.” 

“Anything for my man,” you replied. 

As you lay side by side, Max forgot about the frustrations of the day. He knew he’d make it up next time. For now he was content to just lay with you and enjoy what the rest of the night had in store.

[honeybeefae]

Potions (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Eris Week Day Two: Heir

Summary// A recent concoction has hit the fae market that is said to bring about your primal instincts to help fertility. When Eris first suggests it you laugh, thinking it is just another herb or supplement that will fail, until you both drink and realize just how primal it turns you.

(This is hot, filthy, dirty, just primal smut. I’m talking about knotting, A/B/O, breeding, fucking. If that’s not your vibe then you have been warned and if it is, well, we should definitely be friends. Enjoy!)

@erisweek2023

WARNINGS: SMUT, Knotting, Primal Play, Aphrodisiacs, Breeding, A/B/O Dynamics, Slight Cum Inflation?,  I don’t want to spoil anything else but it is dirty. 

With how hard fae pregnancies are to come by it is a wonder that something like this hadn’t been made sooner. Eris had had it delivered to him by one of his healers and advisors, their eyes sparkling at the idea of an heir being conceived with the special potion made by the healer himself. 

At first, Eris hadn’t even wanted to bring it to you, knowing how difficult it was for you month after month of not becoming pregnant, but as he saw you grow sadder each week he finally caved.

 This is how the two of you came to be sitting in the quiet of your secluded cabin, away from the court’s gossip and stares, with the heart-shaped bottle resting on the table between the two of you. 

“So what is this supposed to do exactly?” You ask quietly, gingerly picking it up and watching as the dark red liquid swirled from the movement of your shaky hands. “And how is this any different from the other herbs and medicines the healer has already been giving me?”

“It is said to call upon our basic, primal instincts to help with the conceiving part,” Eris explained again, blowing air out of his mouth. “I’m not sure exactly how it works or what it does but that is how it was explained to me.”

“And do you think it will work?”

“I think there is only one way to find out.”

You frown, contemplating, before twisting open the top and popping the cork. Eris stands and grabs two small glasses which you pour into. The smell is sickly sweet, almost like cherry medicine, and you try your best not to wince as you bring it up to your mouth. 

“Can we agree before we drink this that if it does not work…we just try not to worry about it? Conceiving, I mean.” Eris says softly, watching you with concern. “I know how much this has been bothering you and I do not want you to feel pressured or think that I am angry with you. These things take time and this drink, at most, is probably just going to be a fun night of sex for us. Nothing more.”

“I know I’ve been struggling I just,” You sigh, your eyes looking down. “I’m so ready to have a child and I know your advisors, the court, and even your mother have been pressing me for when I will finally have one. I just feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

He reaches out for you and grabs your free hand, squeezing it as he says, “You could never let anyone down, Y/N. I cannot say I know the pressures of being a woman in this circumstance but I can imagine them. Just please know that no matter what happens, whether it works or not, I love you and I do not care if I have to wait forever or even if it never happens. All I want is your happiness.”

You give him a sincere smile, tightening your fingers around his as you hold your glass out for him to clink. “Cheers then…to at least a long night of fucking each other.”

“Cheers, little fox.” Eris grins, giving you a flirty wink before downing the potion as you follow his lead. “It certainly tastes…interesting.”

“Nasty,” You blanch, your nose scrunching in disgust. “It tastes nasty.”

“Well the healer is probably more attuned at creating medicines than he is flavorful potions I would assume.” He shrugs, lounging back on the couch and patting his lap. “Why don’t you come over here and sit with me while we wait and see what this does?”

You don’t need to be asked twice as you shimmy over the table and crawl onto him, nuzzling your face into his neck as he kisses your temple and runs his fingers through your hair. It is sweet, domestic, and you savor it as you kiss his neck. 

“I do wonder what it means about becoming primal…” Eris muses. “Do you think it will make us mindless beasts? Just rutting into each other?”

A giggle escapes your lips as you raise your head to look at him, rolling your eyes as he smirks. “I think it will do the same as the other medicines have and slightly, slightly, raise our libido. Though I do not think we need help with that.”

He grins wolfishly and cups the back of your head, bringing your lips to his as he kisses you slowly. His lips never fail to take your breath away as they move against your own, molding perfectly together as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Pleasant tingles are going from your scalp to your toes as you swipe your tongue against his.

“Mmmm,” Eris growls, his hands grasping your hips while you teasingly grind down onto him. You were surprised at how wet you were already becoming, feeling the wet spot growing in your underwear. “It’s not nice to tease, little fox.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord.” You smile against his mouth, your skin starting to feel clammy as you pull back for a moment. “Are you hot? Like sweaty?”

“I’m a little warm…” He trails off, looking down in surprise to see his white shirt almost completely soaked through. “What the hell?”

“Is it the potion? Is it like an allergic reaction?” You stand, touching the back of your neck which is slick with sweat. “Stars I’m the same way-what is that smell?”

You sniff at the air, trying to find the intoxicating smell that was starting to drive you insane. It was like you were one of his hounds are you bent down over Eris who was still looking down at his shirt, finding the source right at the pulse point of his neck. “Fuck Eris, you smell so good.”

Another warm gush of wetness coated your outer lips and thighs as you licked him from the hollow of his throat to the base of his ear, tasting the mix of pheromones and sweat while he abruptly pushed you off and stood. You felt like you were in a daze as you looked up at him, hurt and confused before you saw what had him freaking out. 

Eris’s hair was growing thicker, and coarser, while his body seemed to swell slightly in the muscles and planes of his chest. He raises his hands as you watch his nails become sharper and pointer, almost like claws, as he whispers, “I don’t know what’s happening to me…”

Your eyes trail up as he starts to lick his lips and his teeth, curling his top lip to show off his canines as they also become sharp. His amber eyes turn to gold as he stumbles back, tearing at his clothes until they were scraps on the floor, and unleashing the full change to your view. 

“Eris, what’s wrong? What’s happening?” Your tone is full of worry before your mouth drops open at the sight of his bare body, seeing the hair that has grown on his chest, forearms, and thighs, as your gaze finally falls to his cock.

It was already long and thick before but now, with whatever the medicine was doing, it had become even bigger. You could see the veins throbbing as he became hard under your eyes, the head an angry read as it hit just under his belly button. However, that isn’t the most concerning thing as you see a knot form just underneath his dick. 

A large, throbbing knot.

“Oh my gods.” You breathe, eyes wide, as you look back into his eyes. The man before you was no longer your Eris, no longer the High Lord of Autumn. No, this was a beast. A red, hungry beast who was watching you like a fox would its prey.

“I’ve never felt like this before…” He growls, even his voice an octave lower and gravelly while he licks his lips and stares at you. 

“Like what?” You question breathlessly.

“Like I want to fuck you until you’re overflowing with my cum, your womb stuffed as I drain every last drop into that pretty fucking cunt.”

Before you could fully react to it Eris had stomped over to you and ripped off your clothes, letting them fall to the floor it tatters as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked. You whined loudly, looking up at him as he fisted his cock and slapped it against your cheek roughly. “Suck it, pup. Take this hot, thick dick down your throat like a good girl.”

You opened for him without hesitation, gagging as he rutted into your face until the tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Normally Eris would check in on you before being rough, making sure you were okay, but this wasn’t Eris. He had no qualms about your comfort as he threw his head back and groaned loudly.

And as you took it, as you slobbered all over him, you realized you liked it. 

The way he was treating you, the way he smelled, the knot, everything was driving you fucking wild. You were sure you were dripping onto the couch as he used your mouth for his pleasure. It was so hot and you could feel your mind going blank as you lost yourself in the experience.

“That’s it, that’s it, FUCK!” He roared as you played with his knot, moaning around him. “Swallow it so fucking deep, pet. Oh, fuck.”

He was throbbing inside your mouth as you ran your tongue over the veins and the underside of his dick, tasting the salty musk of him before he unexpectedly pulled himself out of your mouth. “Hands and knees, slut. Now.”

Eris stroked himself as you quickly clambered into position on the small couch, wiggling your ass in the air to entice him as he took position behind you. He landed a rough smack on your ass before he started thrusting swiftly, his cock desperately trying to find your hole as you shoved a hand down to try and guide him.

It only took a few seconds before he found his mark and you cried out in pain and pleasure as he speared you down on his member, fucking you like an animal. You tried your best to stay upright but Eris shoved a large hand between your shoulders, forcing your face into the pillows as he grabbed your hips and fucked.

“Such a good little breeding whore,” He praised, the sound of his hips smacking against your ass echoing across the cabin. “Such a perfect cock slut for me to use. That’s all you’re good for, right? All for me?”

“Fuck yeah-” You choke out, turning to look back at him which only spurred him on further. “Just for you, Eris. Only you.”

His claws dug into your skin and you swore you could feel him piercing your skin but you couldn’t care, didn’t care, as he fucked you dumb. Both of your juices were making the wettest, sloppiest noise as it dripped out of you and onto the couch. 

You started to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the shockwaves of pleasure overtaking your body as Eris found that spot deep inside of you that had your vision filling with white spots. Moan after moan spilled from your mouth as he chased his release, growling at the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly.

“Cum. Cum for me.” He ordered roughly, dominantly. “Fucking cum all over my cock.”

His words unlocked the gates as you whimpered and cried out his name, your entire body shaking while you hit the best orgasm of your life. You could feel your cum creaming out of you as you buried your face into the pillow, biting down, while he smacked your ass once, twice, and then a third before he stilled inside of you.

The knot was trying to bury itself in your cunt but you were too tight for it to fit which caused massive frustration for Eris as his cum started leaking out of your hole. You winced when he pulled out, yelping when he turned you over to your back and loomed above you.

“You’re wasting it pet,” He tsked, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he came face-to-face with your still-sensitive mound. “Let me fix that for you.”

Your back arched as he took his tongue and started tongue-fucking your abused hole, groaning at the taste of both of your cums mixed together as he desperately tried to fuck it back into you. Both of your hands flew to his head, gripping on for dear life as he moved up to your clit.

He flicked it back and forth with the tip of his tongue, his nails digging into your thighs as you tried to squirm away. “Nuh uh, little fox. You’re staying here until I’m fucking finished breeding you.” Eris growled, pushing two of his fingers into your needy pussy as he started to stretch you out. “I’m going to make sure you’re nice and stretched out for me, ready to take this knot like a good fucking slut.”

“Eris, please,” You whine, your hips rutting up as your sensitivity turns to pleasure again. “Please, I need more.”

“You need more, pet? Need more of this cock?” Eris taunted, pulling away after slurping more of your juices up. “Open your mouth for me.”

You did so quickly, sticking your tongue out as he appeared above your head and spat into your mouth. It was dirty and disgusting but it made you tighten around his fingers, the vulgarity of it only turning you on even more as he smirked. His fangs poked out from his lips as he said, “Dirty whore, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Enjoying being treated like a breeding bitch?”

Your head bobs up and down but it isn’t enough for him as he thrusts deeper, harder, and grabs your face painfully. He squeezes, pushing your lips together as his upper lip curls back in a snarl. “Fucking say it.”

“Y-yes I enjoy it!” You admit in a high-pitched voice, groaning when he added a third and fourth finger. “I enjoy being your little breeding bitch, it’s all I want, all I need.”

“Is it what you need, pet? Are you ready to take this knot in this tiny little cunt? Ready for me to fuck you until you’re a drooling, cum-filled cocksleeve?” He stares into your eyes, pupils dilated so big you could hardly see the gold anymore as you whine your agreement. “Then turn back around.”

Eris pulls his fingers out and sucks on them while you get back on all fours, waiting for him to mount you. He watches you, contemplating, before he sits down and yanks you backward roughly. You gasp when he holds you up by your hips with ease, lining up his cock with your pussy before sliding you all the way down.

Both of you moan and close your eyes, the angle making him feel ten times deeper as he orders you to ride him. You place your hands on his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life as you roll your hips. It feels otherworldly and with each thrust down, the head of his dick hits your g-spot with a marksman-like accuracy.

“Ooooh fuck, Eris, you’re so deep,” You cry, biting down on your bottom lip as you throw your head back in pleasure. He growls and jerks your chin back down, your eyes flying open as he kisses you passionately.

“Eyes on me, pet. Don’t you dare fucking look away.” He commands, shifting between your fucked out face and the way your cunt swallows him whole. “Such a pretty pussy taking my cock so well, ready to be bred until your stomach is swollen and your tits are leaking.”

The imagery makes you whine while Eris emphasizes his point by bending down to suck on your tits, your nipples extra sensitive as he nips at them with those long canines. You grip the back of his head, feeling the coarse hair between your fingertips as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. 

Already you feel as if you are getting close and he can tell, can feel your walls fluttering around him. What little control he had snaps and he grabs your ass roughly, leaning back on the couch as he starts fucking up into you. The only sound in the room being his animalistic growls and wet fucking.

Pain blossoms in your uterus as he goes deeper than ever, hitting your cervix, but you could care less as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold onto him. You can smell his scent again, feeling his racing pulse, and you sink your teeth into it just as your orgasm starts to come to a crescendo.

The tangy taste of blood in your mouth doesn’t deter you as you scream his name loudly, feeling him bite down on the junction of your shoulder as he roars and buries himself knot deep. It slips in with ease this time, locking you together as his hips keep rutting deep into you.

His cum is as hot as fire as it coats your inside, filling you up until you could see your lower stomach start to bulge out from just how much he was pumping inside you. Eris pulled his teeth out of your skin, blood staining his teeth and chin just as yours was, and pressed your foreheads together.

Both of you were panting like dogs as his thrusts finally slowed until he was completely still, though you could still feel his cock throbbing. He brushed the hair away from your neck gently, whispering your name into your ear while you sagged into him exhaustedly. 

“So good, pet, you did so well,” He praised, kissing your temple as you gave him a small smile. “I’m so proud of you for taking it all.”

“Thanks, love.” You whisper while running your fingers down his back lazily. “That was…”

“Amazing?” Eris finished for you, cupping your face gently as you nodded and gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes. “I agree. I guess it was different than everything else we’ve tried.”

“I wouldn’t mind trying it again sometime.” You tease, kissing him for a moment until he pulls back with a knowing smile. “What?”

“Did you think that was it, pet? That I am done with you already?” He tilts his head, running his thumb over your cheek. “No, no, no, no, no. This was just the beginning. I meant what I said about fucking you until the very last drop…and that was just the first pour.”

You gulp, eyes widening, as you feel his knot slowly shrink until it comes out with a wet squelch. Eris smirked as he nuzzled into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent, before whispering, “Time to fill you up again, pet.”

[ivymarquis]

So I was being a lil creep on @391780's blog and saw she'd made a comment about how {Valeria}'s so hot and so mean i just know she'd call a fat y/n something fucking terrible and make fun of her size. and whilst Imma not write any body shaming because that's fucked, my brain did black out at the mention of Valeria being terrible and wicked to Reader and this is what I came back to;

Mean Girl

Pairing| Valeria Garza x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 1.8l Kinks/Content/Warnings| Their dynamic probably isn't healthy but everything is consensual, chubby reader, anal sex, strap on, begging, punishment, name calling, slut shaming, Valeria is not dealing with reader's shit tonight, pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare

Your mother always cautioned you about bad boys growing up. You took one look at them, decided they weren’t worth the hassle and hit the books. 

Which was all fine and well when you finished school with stellar grades and no distracting boyfriends, because it wasn’t boys that caught your attention regardless of if they were bad or not. 

Now a mean girl?

As it turns out that is much more your style. 

How exactly one ventures down the “mean girl” to “cartel leader” pipeline is a mystery for the ages, but quicker than you can blink one moment you’re being introduced to El Sin Nombre’s sicaria, and the next you’re her spoiled little house cat.

Unlike the average house cat though, there’s minimal tolerance for any foolishness or shenanigans in Valeria’s household. 

She doesn’t expect much beyond your blind obedience to her every whim, and you’ve got hearts for pupils every time you look at her.  Absolutely no fucking regard to the fact that you’ve gone from no relationship experience through your schooling years and gone head first into the deep end with no life jacket with Valeria Garza of all people. 

That formal education isn’t doing you much good now.

Not that either of you are complaining. 

Valeria isn’t difficult to live with once you learn her quirks and idiosyncrasies. She is consistent in her expectations- sets the rules, and accepts no deviations from them. Anything less is punished. 

Now, considering the shit she’s probably complicit in if not outright done herself, you get off virtually scott free from punishments compared to others. You’ve still got all your fingers, limbs, and teeth thank you very much. 

But that still leaves a whole spectrum of punishment.

You’ve been on your best behavior- usually stumbling into corrections on accident and learning quickly what mistakes to not make again.

By now you’ve been with Valeria long enough that new relationship jitters shouldn’t be fluttering in your belly every time to set your eyes on her. And yet- She’s just sublime. You can’t help yourself. 

As someone who survived childhood and navigates adulthood by being polite and pleasant (occasionally to your own detriment), it is awe inspiring watching her enter a room and immediately take control of it. So far as anyone around her can tell, the world does in fact revolve around her and anyone stupid enough to not understand that is reminded of their place immediately.

You know that you’re not exempt from the firm grip Valeria keeps on her surroundings, but you manage to muck it up and overstep your place anyway.

“What’s that pretty brain of yours thinking about, Bunny?” she asks one night as the pair of you are reclined on the bed. It’s fairly obvious that she’s the subject of your current thoughts, looking at her like she hung the moon.

You don’t think much of it as you reply “Just thinking I have no idea what you see in me sometimes.”

Valeria makes her adoration of you painfully obvious so it’s not like you have reason to question it, but the pair of you are such polar opposites in every category, from build to disposition, that you’re the pinnacle of opposites attract. You wouldn’t survive a day in her world if it wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who might interact with you that Valeria will personally deliver their severed heads to their grandmothers’ doorstep if they don’t watch themselves. And, well- you don’t really do the self-pity thing because you can be hot and fat at the same time, but Valeria is hot in a conventional way that still boggles your mind when her clothes come off. 

So yes, for multiple reasons you often find yourself wondering how the hell you managed to pull her?

The previously soft, bemused expression on her face is wiped to a cold neutral as her eyes narrow sharply at you. Ah, fuck, you have just enough time to realize you stepped out of line with that comment just as she rolls over and straddles you. 

“If I wanted to fuck someone like me, Bunny, I’d just fuck myself. Perhaps you need a reminder of that?”

Next thing you know she’s got your hands bound to the headboard, ignoring the way you tug at the binds and whine as she works her strap inside your lubed up ass.

“Quit fucking squirming,” she sharply admonishes you, one hand gripping the soft flesh of your thigh for leverage as the other circles your clit to make you relax.

The beauty of a store bought cock is it’s the perfect size, part of why you can’t sit still.

As far as punishments go, once again you are getting off incredibly easy (and if you beg very, very nicely and are very apologetic and repentant you will probably get off in the conventional sense too) considering you absolutely love anal, but you’re sure Valeria already has a plan in mind to make sure she can drive her point home. We don’t want to have this conversation more than once, she’ll tell you.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you cum without permission,” she reminds you, ignoring the way you whimper as she pulls her hand away from your clit as she finishes working the length of her strap in, her hips pressed flush to the plush of your ass.

“Valeria, please, I’m sorry,” you start immediately, knowing if you want to wriggle your way back into her good graces the sooner you start pleading the better.

“You’re sorry?” she mocks, ignoring the shiver that runs through you as she pulls out just to press back into you again, “We’ll see.”

Her thrusts are slow and measured with just enough force you’re seeing stars as chills run up and down your spine.

“I don’t know where the fuck you get off,” she criticizes in time with the wet clap of her hips to your ass, “questioning me of all people.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” well, didn’t realize she’d take it like that but she’s making it abundantly clear now.

“You didn’t mean to?” she parrots back cruelly as you whine when she presses up against something inside you that has your leg shaking. “You’re such a little slut, look at how wet your cunt is,” Valeria degrades with her eyes glued between your legs, the way your skin glitters in the dim lighting from your own wetness. There’s very little you wouldn’t be willing to do to get Valeria to pay attention to your empty cunt right now, but you also know you’re on thin ice and don’t want to do anything to cause cracks to form in the ground under you.

Your focus drifts towards the knot winding itself up in your abdomen, getting bigger and threatening to grow all consuming with each knock of her hips. Your hands twitch in their binds, tugging uselessly on reflex.

“Since you’re apparently too fucking stupid to remember the rules, I’ll make this simple for you,” she starts shortly- never mind that there’s several pieces of paper hung up on the wall to prove you’re not stupid. “My decisions are without fault- ever. You do what you’re fucking told, when you’re told. I don’t keep you here to think. I keep you here because I like watching the way your whole body bounces on my cock, got it?” The force behind her thrusts increases in increments as she speaks.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble both in pleasure from your ass getting pounded and to answer her. Maybe with someone else the sting of being called stupid (or a slut) would- well, sting. But when you mind your place and the relationship is functioning like it should, you’re happily in a place where you can turn the white noise in your brain off and just follow orders like a good girl. Good girls don’t think, they just do what they’re told.

“I’m sorry” you plea again, hoping that she’ll be more magnanimous now she’s said her peace. “I’m sorry Valeria I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“You’re sorry? Or do you just want to cum?” She lets out an unimpressed huff, hips thrusting in a way that has you squealing and thrashing against your binds.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” It’s embarrassing the way your neglected pussy is dripping down between your legs and God you just want her to ease this unbearable ache inside of you. Your thighs burn from how much they’re trembling as you scramble to appeal to any mercy Valeria has before you cum against your better judgement and really put yourself in a fucking hole.

“Please, please, please- I’ll be good I promise!” you offer desperately. The only thing you can do is focus on breathing, trying with all your might to head off your orgasm.

“Fine,” She sounds exasperated, like she’s doing you such a favor allowing you to cum. “But you take what I give you and you better be fucking grateful for it.” Valeria hisses and no sooner are you nodding your head is she swatting at your cunt- hard.

You yelp at the sudden attention to your clit, and yelp each time she lands another blow to the swollen nub between your legs. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes between how fucking close you are and the sting from her hits.

She’s not entirely without mercy it seems- or she got bored slapping your clit and wants to watch you cum now- as the hand that is striking at you drops to your clit and rubs in tight, short circles just how you like.

Valeria laughs as you flinch in anticipation of the next swing before tensing in pleasure.

You’ve got just enough sense to squeak out “Thank you! Thank you, thank you-” in a mindless babble as your orgasm washes over you wetly. You’re messy when you climax and Valeria loves watching you squirt, evident by her delighted chuckle as you ruin the sheets.

“What kind of nasty whore gets off having her ass fucked, hm? Absolutely shameless,” Valeria goads but you’re fucked dumb and can’t possibly be expected to be paying attention anymore.

Everything gets hazy after that. At a certain point Valeria does decide she’s done with you, pulling out and laughing at how you’re such a twitchy, overstimulated mess.

When you come back to the land of the living, she’s somehow managed to coax you into the tub, the pair of you relaxing in the warm water. She’s got you tucked in between her legs, leaning against her with your nose buried in the crook of her neck.

“You back with me?” she asks, tone soft and gentle as one hand strokes at your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you hum happily, nosing against her, sated and warm in the tub.

“Good. We’ll see about scrounging up some snacks in a bit, yeah?”

That sounds like a solid plan to you, although at the moment you’re so content in the bubble of warmth she’s got you enveloped in, you could happily stay here all night.

[oonajaeadira]

Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 4: Winter

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)/ Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. Old enough to have been an adult on Outbreak Day. Wyoming born and bred. Sheep farmer, easy-going but confident and self-sufficient. Likes to sing, not a great cook. Childhood friend of Maria. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: Mature.

Warnings: Mentions of sex but nothing explicit. Canon-typical violence, bodily harm, death,  (blood, broken bones, knife wounds, shooting, blunt force) and PTSD.

Summary: Revenge comes calling and you work though it as a family.

A/N: Series set after season 1 and then diverges. Does not acknowledge the existence of further plot/seasons, although it does use some characters/elements from the second game.

I’m so sorry it’s taken this long to get to winter. This one was difficult for me to face writing for reasons that may be made clear. But it was very rewarding. <3

The air is thin and cold this morning, takes your breath and makes a show of it as you quickstep it down to the stables. The sun is just starting to make the frost sparkle and no doubt Goldie will be using up the rest of the firewood at the Roost today.

Good thing you have a Joel who’s ready to chop more.

Although he’s also a Joel that’s forgotten his tea, the “stuff with the things in it” that Willa gave him for the stiffness in his knees. With this cold he’s going to want it today on patrol and the last thing you think you can stand is the tug in your heart when he comes home complaining of the cold and the ache and you sitting warm and cozy with his thermos on the counter when you had the legs to trot it on out to him.

It’s a relief to round the corner and find the patrol party still at the stable gate, Tommy helping one of the teens with their rifle strap, and Joel waiting on horseback, weaving his gloved fingers together, packing them down at the valleys to get his hands all the way in.

He’d laid one of those hands on your cheek this morning. Gentle. First thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Like most mornings now. His thumb rounding the rim of your cheek so he could lean in and take a good long drink of a kiss.

He likes it that way…soft, slow. Likes to pull you in as close as he can, twist his forehead into your temple when he hits his peak, jaw clenched in agonized pleasure, kisses along your jawline when you find yours, his eyes half-lidded and watching you in a hazy awe. He’s quiet but thorough, completely  present like he can’t believe he’s got this little slice of warmth, sighs a hushed curse in your ear and calls you sweetheart in the same breath, and then sleeps like a baby the whole night through.

He doesn’t like to talk about the past much, but listening’s your specialty and it comes out in bits and pieces, stuck between the little he does say. You come to understand that he very rarely got to be very close with anyone while Sarah was growing up. There were the years when everything was a nightmare. Then there was Tess and she brought him out of that, thank goodness. But it took time. And there was also denial and survival and means to their ends. There might indeed have been strong love there. But you have the feeling he’s not had this–or anything like it–for a long, long time.

So if he wants it soft and slow, then who are you to deny him?

Maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising that it was him who pulled you in a little closer.

“What if you didn’t move in with Tommy and Maria this winter?” He’d lingered the morning after Christmas, leaning one shoulder against the frame of your bedroom door, savoring the show of you getting dressed for the day.

“And waste the fuel? Why? So we can cuddle up now and then without your brother down the hall? You keep me plenty warm, Joel Miller, but I’m not going to heat this whole house just for me and your more-than-casual visits. Everyone’s got a responsibility here to conserve in the winter. This is how I do my part. And besides,” you purred as he stepped in to button up your flannel for you, freeing up your fingers so they could run through his curls, “I know where you live and your bed’s good as mine.”

“You seem to like it there well enough.”

“I do.” His beard was growing in all but a patch on his jaw that was now your right to kiss.

“Well I was thinkin’ we just make it ours for the winter.”

His hands had circled your hips and his words had stopped your heart, but there was little for to say with his lips pressed against yours.

So mornings often started as they did today, waking to find Joel beside you, roused because you can feel him watching you with that little half smile that reveals the crack in his weary heart where the light shines through. Who needs spring to come with sunshine like that to turn to? Now there are family breakfasts with Ellie and cozy days knitting in the company of Maria and Riley and then warm nights with Joel on one of those pillowtopped mattresses that were all the rage before the outbreak…the ones that are great when you have a stiff back, but even better because the springs don’t squeak…

“Aw dammit,” Joel says when he sees you nearing the stables with the thermos, “Knew I forgot something.”

“Two somethings,” you say pointing to his bare head and passing your hat up to him in the saddle. “Your ears are already bright red. Here. Take my hat.”

“This’s Ellie’s.”

“Huh. Guess I just grabbed one on my way out. Oops. Be a man. Wear a pompom.”

He pulls it down over his ears and smiles. “Matches my scarf.”

You’d had a small batch of deep red wool you’d managed to squeak a hat and scarf out of and gifting the hat to Ellie around Christmas, but the scarf went to Joel. He may not want anyone to think of him as sentimental, but it was worth your while to make it easy on him by giving him something that was also practical. Even if he had his jacket zipped up all the way, it was always there, tucked around his neck; he may leave his ears to the elements but he never went anywhere without that scarf.

The line of horses start making their way toward the Jackson gates and you squeeze Joel’s shin before stepping out of the way, letting him and his horse follow the group. He simply lets a gloved finger glance your cheek as he passes by.

All the way out here on this side of the apocalypse and humans still have a million variations on saying “I love having you around and I’d like to keep it that way.”

________

“Ellie’s more than welcome around here if you and Joel don’t want to leave her home alone.”

Maria’s lightly bouncing a wet-faced and blubbering Riley on her lap, trying to tempt him with a frozen carrot for his teething. He has tommy’s curls and they sproing with every boing.

“Nah, she wants to come out. We’ll be dividing the ewes and driving part of the flock into the old town for the rest  of the overwinter and she wants to see how it's done. Should see it, if she thinks she’ll be entering the rotation at any point. Speaking of,” you grunt, leaning down to gather your knitting basket and gather your things, “I promised I’d meet her after school. She’s gotten into collecting cassette tapes and the commissary says she’s hit her quota on goods this week. Gonna give up a couple credits so she can discover the wonders of Joan Jett and the Beastie Boys.”

“That’s throwing gas on the fire. She pick those out herself?”

“Nope. My points, my choice. And I say that girl needs to fight for her right to party and put another dime in the jukebox, baby.”

Maria rolls her eyes, chuckles, goes light on the sarcasm. “You’re the coolest auntie.”

“Don’t I know it,” you laugh, tying up your boots.

“Joel’s gonna just love that.”

Leaning in to bop a quick kiss to Riley’s head, you give Maria a crazed grin. “So much.”

Ten minutes later, Ellie has her doubts, holding up a cassette at the commissary. “But there’s a dinosaur on this one! How can it not be great?”

“Listen, missy. I’m not saying Dinosaur Jr. doesn’t have a place in music history, but I’m telling you that you’re likely to be disappointed. Trust me. Just this once.”

Ellie makes a face but you glance past it, distracted by what you see through the window behind her. Following your focus, she turns to look too. “Who’re they?”

All of the patrol horses coming back in have two people on them–a member of the party, and a stranger. And all the strangers can’t be more than teenagers.

“Dunno, but it looks like you’re about to get some new classmates. I’ll sign these out. You go ahead and make a good first impression.”

“You’re just sending me out there because you know if they’re infected, I can’t catch it.”

“If they were infected, they wouldn’t be on those horses or inside those gates. I’m sending you out there because you have a way of reading people. Go.”

Something in that puts a gasp in her throat and a sparkle in her eye and her ponytail whips behind her as she goes, striving to live up to the compliment.

But really, you just want half a minute to take a good look at the kids without Ellie asking questions. They’re all scrawny and filthy. Backpacks. Been traveling and living rough for a while now. Where’d they come from? What’s their story? Not an adult among them. How have they survived? You’d swear something feels off, but that’s the world now. Can’t be too careful. Everything seems off all the time. 

Question is, off by how much?

You find Joel in the group; he’s the only one riding with a kid in front of him rather than hanging on behind. And once he gets down off the horse and reaches up to help his passenger down, you can see why.

She’s pregnant.

Shit. She’s what, fifteen? Sixteen?

Shit.

“There’s a house up near mine has good plumbing turned on.” Tommy’s speaking over his shoulder to the small group and leading his horse to the stable door as you come out of the commissary. “We’ll get you all washed up and fed. There’s at least two beds there and some other furniture fit to sleep on if it makes you comfortable to stay together. Give me a minute to put Lady away here and we’ll walk on up together. Joel? A word?”

Handing off the pregnant girl’s backpack to her, Joel takes the reins of his horse and follows his brother inside, leaving the newcomers to look around them and take in the town.

All but one. A girl with hair that’s neither light brown or dark blonde, somewhere in between. Your mother would have called it dirty dishwater blonde and you always thought that was rude. But your mother also would have said the girl had a hatchet of a face with a strong jaw like that. And it’s that girl whose head whips around the second she heard Joel’s name, quickly scanning the patrol to ascertain who belonged to it, and stands watching the stable door in thought long after the Miller brothers were gone.

Was Joel her father’s name? Her brother’s? Is it hers or close to hers? Is she a Jo or Joelle?

“Abby. Hey,” a boy calls and she turns. “Mel should get a bed and we can share. Manny and Nora can share too…if you’re okay with taking a couch.”

“Fine,” Abby says. Her eyes and mouth all unmoving lines.

“Hey. Welcome to Jackson. I’m Ellie.” Your starling jams her hands in her pockets as all the new eyes turn her way. “It looks like you’ve been wandering. Where you coming from?”

The boy who spoke before blinks and opens his mouth to say something, hesitates. You’d take him for the leader up until the moment Abby speaks for him.

“West of here. QZ. Seattle.”

“Oh. Cool,” says Ellie with a bounce to her nod. Easy. Instantly welcoming. “I came out of Boston.”

Seattle QZ. The same one your dead husband and his sister came from. Not a good place. Warring factions and nothing but oppression and disease, last you heard. Good that they got out. They’re gonna need to be de-loused. 

But Seattle’s also much harder than most zones to break free of. You’ve been told the Western Liberation Front makes FEDRA look like a bucket of clowns.

“Seattle?” Now it’s your turn to pull focus from the group. “We’ve had refugees from there before. You really get out of there in one group like this? With no grown ups?”

Abby rips her eyes away from Ellie. “It’s a long story,” she says, shutting the questioning down.

There’s a moment that hangs between you and that stinks faintly of threat, but is mostly just the smell of feral kids. Tension breaks as the men emerge from the stable.

“We all ready?” Tommy says, making his way down the road and waving a hand for them to follow. “New home’s this way.”

Ellie starts to fall in with the group and you pull her back in close, speak low. “Go with them if you want, but keep your distance.”

“What? Why?”

“These are your first refugees. You’ll learn that they sometimes bring things with ‘em.”

Her face screws into a question mark. “What things?”

“Fleas. Lice. Viruses. Just give ‘em some space for a while.”

After the quickest flash of disgust, Ellie’s tried and true compassion kicks in and she gives an understanding nod as she turns to go, tape cassettes clattering in her jacket pocket.

You keep watching her even as you speak to the owner of the hand snaking around your waist. “Where’d you find them?”

“Up at the old crossing. They were under attack.”

“Jesus.”

“Nope. Infected.”

“Been a while since we’ve seen any of those stumble through here.”

“Infected? Or the kids.”

Turning to him in exasperation you look him over. “Both. And the same goes for you as for Ellie, Foxy. Let’s take you home and wash that scarf and hat. Run a fine-toothed comb through that hair just to make sure.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says, stopping when he catches your zero-temperature glare. If it’s something else you love about Joel, he recognizes when something’s important to you and answers a lady with composure and respect. “Yes, ma’am.”

____

“You couldn’t have found her some Cash or Fleetwood Mac or something?”Joel grumbles into the fireplace as he places another log on the coal bed and moves the poker around like he’s doing something.

Ellie sits on a blanket near the fire, reading a comic book, headphones on, Joan Jett’s grinding guitar bleeding out into the otherwise quiet living room. With his face turned to the fire and Ellie facing away from you, she most likely can’t hear the conversation that’s happening around her if you keep your voices low.

“You’re just jealous that she asked me to pick something out instead of you,” you smile on the couch, picking up your feet and swinging them into his lap as he sits down beside you. “80’s rock is good for her spiky little soul.”

“80’s means trouble,” he counters, considering her as his hands absently squeeze and rub at your feet.

You go back to your book. Seemingly anyway. It’s easy to steal observing glances from where you are. The thoughtful concern he has for Ellie. You can see him looking over the wood in the hopper and calculating how many days of fuel he has before you all head out to the Roost. A twist of a lip tells you he’s realized he might be a day short and needs to chop more. His gaze drops to his lap as he lightly massages your feet–just running his hands along their contours, pressing a thumb in here and there to tenderize a muscle. The firelight loves him, plays at the edges of his curls, slides down his nose, kisses the purse of his lips.

You jump as he slides a tickling fingertip up the sole of one foot. “Hey!”

“What you get for staring.”

“I wasn’t staring at you, I was reading.”

“Must be pretty small print you don’t turn a page for five minutes.”

Taking off your readers and closing the book, you sit up and deposit them on the coffee table. From here it’s easy to scoot up to him and lean an elbow on the couch back. “What’s got you so thinky tonight, hmm? You look like you’ve got your worry pants on.” There’s a curl right behind his ear that’s so easy to twirl in your fingers and you indulge. You’ve found a little touch helps him open up.

“I can’t help thinking about those kids, thinkin’ they could just wander out in the world like that. If it weren’t for us hearing the runners….” He goes quiet a minute and you let him, his gaze haunting Ellie’s direction but living somewhere in the past. “They gotta be somebody’s kids. I can’t believe Seattle’s so bad they just let ‘em run wild…let ‘em run away from the best you got for ‘em.”

A faint guitar blares from Ellie’s headphones as she flips a page, purses her lips, absently nods along.

“Yeah, well teenagers rebel, Foxy. That’s what they do.”

“No,” he says, softly, resolutely, a tick of his jaw. “Not all of ‘em. Not if they’re loved. And fiercely. And I don’t know a love that isn’t fierce.”

It’s the look on his face that makes you believe him.

Love isn’t a word that Joel bandies about. It’s easy to see it work in him. The way he tells Ellie no when she wants to do something reckless but promises her something just as exciting, going to any length to make her smile. The way he holds Riley’s head in the crook of his arm, his other hand reflexively coming out in defense if anyone gets too near the baby’s soft spot. The way he shoves his brother with a laugh when Tommy picks on him or how he helps Maria to her feet when she’s been on the floor too long, even if she says she doesn’t need it.

The way he… with you he…

His hands work at your feet again. He understands the minute levels of his strength, knows how firm to go without bringing pain.

With you, it’s the way he rolls over and shows you his soft places, invites you in to be a part of it.

Not really what you’d call fierce. Does that mean he doesn’t–

“Is a cherry bomb like a little bomb or a big bomb?” Ellie asks, an earpad pulled away from her ear and spilling Cherie Currie’s stuttered chorus.

“It’s a little one. A firework. But it packs a big punch. It’ll take your fingers off. Hello, world, I’m your wild girl, I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch cherry bomb,” you sing, pushing your foot against Joel’s thigh with every beat. 

“Alright, that’s it,” he says, wrapping a big hand around your ankle to secure it. “Ellie, run on up and get my guitar. Lemme teach you a better song.”

In the minute it takes for her to come back, Joel foregoes softness for force, tickling relentlessly, almost ending up with a foot in his face with how much you squirm.

___

Church isn’t really your thing, never was. You have your own way of listening to the beauty of the earth that doesn’t mean sacrificing a morning sleeping in to listen to lessons you’ve already learned and hold true.

But today you’ve come to the after-brunch curious to welcome the new residents and managed to show up a little early. So you’re standing in the back of the mess hall with Maria and Riley, waiting for the final hymn to end, for the preacher to call an end to the service and a beginning to the meal.

Maria leans in and murmurs in your ear as the final chorus comes. “Tommy and the crew are working on one of those bigger houses with the vaulted ceilings in the new district so the church can have its own building.”

“They’re not gonna like having to walk over there.”

She shrugs, adjusts Riley’s teething toy and bounces him up a notch. “Might cause some of them to move over there. Thin out the density. Easier on the power grid. We do have five new residents.” 

You watch as one of the new boys–Owen–helps the pregnant Mel to her feet. “Soon to be six.”

Once the kitchen starts serving, Owen and Mel find their way over to your table, eager to meet Riley and ask Maria all kinds of questions about childbirth and your friend finds herself in a mentoring role she didn’t ask for. She’s not opposed to being helpful, just lets her judgment slide through on the whole babies having babies thing which completely flies over the kids’ heads.

They’re good enough kids, but something tastes a little sour when Owen tries to include you in the conversation.

“What about you? You and…is his name Joel? You gonna have any kids?”

It’s a rude question. He’s earned your side eye and he knows it, but smiles through it, playing innocent.

“Already got one. One’s enough,” you laugh, sly, chewing through some boiled oats and letting him know you’re gonna let that one slide.

“Oh, yeah, right. Ellie, right?” he asks, with a flick of his eyes to a table behind you. Turning, you find Abby at a table with some other residents and when you turn back it’s with a dry expression that tells him he’s worn out his turns at beating the bush and should be out with it.

“We just were wondering if she’d show us around,” Mel explains. “She’s the only one of the children here who will talk to us.”

You snort. “Don’t let Ellie hear you call her a child. She’s short for her age, but she’s not much younger than you. She likes people, but that won’t win you any points.”

“And don’t worry about the other kids,” Maria takes over, shooting you a look. “They’ll come around. A lot of them were born here and they don’t see a ton of new people.”

“Are they not coming to the brunch today?” Owen asks.

“Who?”

“Ellie and Joel.”

Shaking your head, you swallow your latest bite. “Joel and Tommy are off getting some work done in the new sector and Ellie would bite my face off if I woke her up before high noon on a weekend. But she knows where you’re staying. I’ll send her around to you once she’s up and acting like a whole human.”

You’re about to change the subject and ask them a few questions of your own but Riley starts fussing and Mel asks to hold him and the whole baby talk starts up again.

When you look over your shoulder, Abby is gone from the table. Left her dish for someone else to clean up.

There’s a thought creeps in that maybe Ellie can teach them all some manners. And then you remember the mouth on your starling and smile.

____

“And Owen showed me some of his drawings and they’re so amazing. He’s like a fucking Picasso or something. He says he’ll give me lessons if I can get Mr. Scowlface here to take him out hunting. Says he misses hunting deer with his dad. And Abby wants to go too. I told her how you taught me to use a shotgun and she seemed really interested to learn. She might want to join the patrols some day. But I told them not this week since we’re going out to the Meadow and they all had questions about that. Abby especially–” 

Ellie has a remarkable talent for chewing and talking at the same time. She catches a piece of apple that escapes her mouth, slurping it off the back of her hand where it landed, then downs the rest of the milk and wipes her mouth with the cuff of her sweater, leaving you to negate your silent praise of her manners from earlier in the week and giving you a break in the chatter to speak.

“Well, you’re a little young to be recruiting your own Roostlings, but if Abby or any of the others want to come out sometime and see what the fuss is about, they’re welcome. I’d rather them wait until spring though, or at least until we get the whole of the flock back from the deep winter holding grounds. Chickadee’s taking up the caboose on that.”

As you push the carafe of chicory coffee toward Joel and clear the breakfast plates, Ellie snatches the last hunk of bread you left on yours, shaking her head. “Abby’s afraid of heights. Didn’t even have time to tell her about the Roost being up on stilts. What’s a caboose?”

Joel scoffs. “Last car on a train.” He takes a long, loud drag of his coffee, pouring on the annoyance to get a glare out of the girl and succeeds. “Well, if she don’t like heights, she’s not going to enjoy learning patrol duty either, not with the watchtowers and the mountain trails. And don’t go promising services you can’t guarantee. I’m not a scout leader.”

“What’s a scout leader?”

“Someone with a lot more patience than me. Get.”

Taking up her backpack, Ellie makes her way to the front vestibule to pull on her gear.

“Don’t forget your hat and scarf!” You call to her, but smile at Joel as you perch your butt against the table and tuck a little curl behind his ear. He’ll ask you to cut it soon. And you’ll put it off for as long as possible.Tickles, he'll say. I know, you'll say.

“Thanks, Gramma Betty!” she calls back and pulls the door shut behind her as Joel lays a warm hand on your outer thigh.

“What’er you getting up to today?” he asks.

You shrug. “I’m in carding mode. Got a whole bag of washed fleece needs combing. I’d ask you what you’re up to, but I assume you and Tommy are gonna be tearing down some poor old house.”

There’s a moment where he squints, thiinking. His thumb tracing the outer seam of your jeans. 

“I want you to come with me. Got something to show you.”

“Really. Well I like the sound of that. I could use a little walk in the bitter cold with a mystery at the end of it. Gonna have to go pull on a heavier sweater though. Might need to take this one off first. You wanna come watch?”

There’s a knock at the front. Tommy. The door opening.

Joel only grins fondly and pats your thigh, sending you off, before pushing the chair back from the table and separating himself from his coffee mug. “I’ll catch the later show. ‘Specially if it calls for audience participation.”

Five minutes later, bundled and booted, the three of you head out toward the new section, Joel with his scarf tucked in tight and hat pulled down low, and Tommy with a set forced upon him because you’re quickly becoming the winter clothing police around here.

It’s not a long walk. Jackson was never more than a few miles wide and this is just the first expansion of the wall. You’ve wandered over during the construction crew’s activities enough to know the way without being led, but what you’re expecting is for Joel to lead you away from the furthest street, away from the beautiful A-frame house so neatly repaired along with its pretty neighbors and up the street with Tommy to the next clutch of houses they’ve been working on. 

But instead, Joel tells his brother he’ll be along in a minute, and Tommy smiles knowingly as he continues on, leaving the two of you in the walkway up to the pretty A-frame that’s so much like the Roost’s bigger sister.

“You know what today is?” Joel asks, hands in pockets, squinting up at the peaked roof.

“Friday?”

“Probably,” he says, shifting focus to his boots. “I was thinking more holiday-wise.”

The air’s particularly crisp today, hitches in your lungs as you take each mental step and catch up with him.

February 14. Valentine’s.

As your mouth drops open, he jerks his chin at the house. “You like this one, right?”

“What…what are you….Joel?”

There’s a cringe that belies his confidence, maybe a tinge of regret. “I just figured we were gettin’ along so well, that maybe you’d… It was just an idea–”

He can’t even look you in the eye until you yank his hand awkwardly out of his pocket and wrap your gloved hand around his. He seems almost shocked to see your tears welling up–true, half from the cold–but he’s also relieved. Big breath in, big breath out. That must have been the hard part.

Words aren’t Joel’s way. This is how he tells you just how deep his feelings go. You know he’s had time to imagine with every window replaced, every floorboard leveled out, every load bearing wall reinforced,  just which family was going to get to live in this house and what kind of life they might make in it.

What kind of life you might make together here.

So you take his lead and say only what’s necessary, as steadily as you’re able. 

“Take me inside.”

His sheepish grin confirms that it was exactly what he’d hoped to hear.

The interior’s simple, but gorgeous. The dark wood gleams, and the whole back wall of the A frame is windowed. The triangle at the top replaced with a leaded stained glass in a sunrise of orange and rose that reflects the undertones in the timber inside and the pines out the window, the mosaic just high enough to catch the last rays that will come in over the mountains at the end of the day and turn the whole place into a dream. The open floorplan has the kitchen near the door, but over by the windows….

Joel gives the tour. The hand-laid stones in the fireplace. The built-in shelves for your books. This is the corner where your favorite chair can go, nearest the fire and where there’s good light for spinning. This rug was here, still good. He points out to the little shed in the back–a place for wool dying, he can hang pegs in there however you need them.

If he weren’t so occupied in explaining the wood he chose to finish the countertop, the way he followed the original dovetailing in the doorframe, the pattern he made with the reclaimed wood in the floorboards, he may have seen you admiring the most important part of the house…or, rather, the most important person in it.

There’s more. Two bedrooms, one off each side of the main part of the house, each with its own bathroom, the larger one with its own porch overlooking a little creek.

“The basement’s not quite done, but I figure I’ll just use that for my own. Felt you might not like the…vibe…”

Ah yes. The former owners. He took care of that too. 

He took care of everything.

“I love it, Joel.”

“Yeah?”

“If there was a stronger word, it would be yours, believe me.”

He only wraps his arms around you as you dive in to squeeze him.

“Good,” is all he says. Breathes in the scent of your hair. “That’s good.”

________

The ewes hate the leader ropes, but they follow, bleating now and then as you slowly guide them through the woods toward the Meadow’s north entrance. Joel’s got two behind his and Ellie’s horse, and you’ve got four behind yours, a small party, but the only ones that were ready to come on back out after the coldest weeks.

Goldie’s happy to lead them out to the rest of the flock while you and Joel go up and get situated, get warm, get ready for the week ahead. Ellie follows Goldie and Joel hangs his watch by the door. All’s quiet in the Roost.

Until Joel’s tongue clicks. “That beam is bowing,” he points up to one of the main rafter struts on the far side of the room. “Wood stove keeps this side warm and the snow melts off, but there’s no balcony on the other side. No way to rake the snow off the roof. Tommy should have known better.”

“Well it’s not like he’s had a lot of practice with big boy tree forts, I’m guessing,” you say, dumping a sack of potatoes near the cook pile and throwing the stack of fresh sheets onto the bed. “Does it need to come down?”

“Don’t think so. But come spring we’ll add on another balcony and do some reinforcement.”

As he runs his hand up the wall seam, you come up behind him, hugging him from the back with the sole purpose of distracting him, your way of letting him know he’s obsessing like an old man. It gives you the right angle to grab onto his open jacket and start pulling it off him. “Take this off and stay awhile.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Goldie takes her leave on your horse, guiding Joel and Ellie’s behind, glad to be going back to more warm water than she can heat on a stovetop, and Ellie helps to cart a few buckets of the colder variety up from the stream so you can all just stay in for the night.

Then it’s stew and cards, and Ellie kicking Joel’s ass at Scrabble, all of you bundled in wool sweaters and slippers handmade by you and Chickadee, the firelight glinting off the game tiles, highlighting the glee in the girl’s eyes, the resigned agony in Joel’s smile.

Almost a whole year now she’s been coming out here with you, and it’s wondrous how much she’s grown inside and out. You never felt lonely at the Roost, in fact, you had always very much enjoyed the solitude. Now you don’t think you could abide it. It’s only a home for a week at a time, but only when they come out here with you now.

It’s a nice night. Stars are out. Ellie’s still staring out at them as you and Joel fall asleep in the big bed.

_____

It’s the scent of woodsmoke that wakes you in the middle of the night, sitting you up straight in bed. Or so you think, except that the embers in the stove are low, so it can’t be that. 

No. It’s a voice outside.

“Burn in hell, Joel Miller!”

Is that…Ellie? What’s she doing outside? No. Not Ellie. No it’s–

“Abby?” Ellie says blearily from the bunk above you.

There’s someone in the room moving swiftly toward you from the windows, hulking, with a rifle–

Joel.

“Get up. Both of you. Get out. The place is on fire.” 

It doesn’t register.

“What? What fire? Joel? What’s happening–”

He shakes your shoulder, pulling you from the bed. “Get Ellie out. Now!”

There’s no other thought, just fumbling in the dark as Ellie jumps down beside you and dives for her jacket, shoving her feet into her boots without doing up the laces while you reach out one hand to catch hers for when it comes to you. The other gropes the near table for the walkie and thumbs the button.

“Meadowlark to patrol. Meadowlark to Goldfinch. We’re in trouble, there’s a fire and–”

The whole cabin sways. A gunshot from the balcony. Joel growling over his shoulder. “Get out! Now!”

“Joel–!”

“NOW!”

The ladder is still sliding down into place when you jump on it and ride it part of the way down, still waking up as Ellie’s boots come fast, almost kicking you in the face as she follows you down the rungs two at a time, moving through a plume of choking blackness only to come out below it to a roaring bonfire that’s eating through the Roost’s supports.

Oh god. The Roost…

is burning….

“JOELLLLLL!” you scream up as your stocking feet hit the ground hard, as you catch Ellie and pull her off the ladder and stumble backward, as something hits your head hard and causes you to let go, as separate sets of arms grab each of yours and drag you roughly backward, fast enough to keep your feet from catching up until you’re on your knees.

There’s a crackle in the air– “Patrol to Meadowlark. What’s the trouble?” 

The walkie lies somewhere in the pine needles just out of reach and you’re screaming at it for help but all that comes out of your mouth is a string of names and no’s and helps. You’re able to yank your non-dominant arm free, pitching forward, clawing for the radio, until a flash of hard silver–a meteorite, exquisitely dense and smooth, malignant, swift, direct–cracks down on your forearm with a sickening thud, shattering the bone.

The world slides out of focus through a screen of sudden pain.

At first, you assume you’ve been shot in the arm. But then a figure steps around to your line of sight. Abby. With a golf club? What? Why? Where did she get that? The commissary? Why the fuck would they stock golf clubs? What the fuck is going on? 

And you watch as Abby picks up the walkie. Tosses it into the fire.

The hands are back upon you now, forcing you back to your knees, and a third set joins them, wrapping around your forehead and chin, pulling you back against a belly and you struggle.

Where’s Ellie.

You’re able to twist your head to one side despite being held. She’s there on the ground, face down, groaning, with Owen’s knee in her back.

“Ellie? Honey?”

One pair of hands holding you twists you hard, meaning to pull you further away from her without compliance from the other hands or consent from your muscle structure and there’s a sickening pop as your shoulder leaves its socket and then your scream drowns out everything even the roar of the fire.

“She keeps it in her pocket,” Abby says. Rooting into Ellie’s pocket, Owen finds the knife and pulls it out–the one she cherishes, imbued with the legend of her mother, given to her on the same day as her name, her life, and her orphanhood.

The day Ellie told you the story, you’d taken steel wool to the knife and cleaned it. Oiled the hinge. Shined it up good and pretty.

It flips open easily in Owen’s paw. It twirls swiftly around, and points downward, his fingers closing over the hilt, thumb curling over the butt of the handle to give it more leverage when he’s ready to bring it down.

The night is horribly black and lit along the edges in orange fire.

There’s a loud crack. Owen’s thigh explodes in a splatter of blood and he falls backward off Ellie, screaming. The hands around your head let go and Mel runs to him.

Joel stalks out of the plume of black smoke, cocking the rifle, pointing only long enough at Owen to confirm he’s down and then swinging the barrel around to Abby.

A stand off. No sound or movement but the whoosh of flames and a few ground-muffled cries from Owen, a few sniffles and shushes from Mel.

“Who the fuck are you,” Joel growls out over the steel barrel, his cheek quivering in barely hinged anger.

Abby stands, solid, unyielding, straight as the blonde braid hanging down her back, club wound up tight, ready for the pitch, a face full of lines and soot and destruction.

“The last survivors of the Firefly massacre. You didn’t think to check the rest of the compound? Like the whole team was just one-offs? Like none of them had family, you sick fuck? You fucking orphaned us. Left us to fend for ourselves. Go ahead and shoot, old man. Marlene always said you weren’t so good at keeping kids alive, actually surprised you got as far as you did. So go ahead. Not like we’ve got nothing to lose. We just came to return some favors and finish the job.”

It’s only in the moments later, before the dawn, when you’re laying on your back looking up at the stars, one arm laying broken and useless in the snow beside you, the other cradling a weeping Ellie Williams as tight as you can, that you’ll be able to slow the film of your memory and play out the next thirty seconds frame by frame.

The series of snaps and cracks as the support under the Roost gave way and the whole structure tumbled out and away from the scene, pulling several pines down with it, the crashing and burning the only sound you remember now.

Ellie trying to shuffle along the ground toward you and away from the fire.

Owen pulling himself up enough to raise the knife and bring it down into the meat of Ellie’s calf.

Owen’s body flying backward as a bullet ripped through his skull.

A wrench of your neck and the warm splash of blood from above you as another shot rang out, one person holding you falling away and back, gone, but still pulling you down with their dead body.

The roar of an angry Abby and the clank of a club shaft on a rifle barrel.

Another gunshot.

The sound of metal hitting flesh.

Thirty seconds. And now you can see the stars. Orion. The Milky Way.

Somehow you’re lying yards from the little patch of burning trees with Ellie cradled in your good arm. Someone dragged you here.

There are voices and flashlights. The patrol. Bear and Tommy. Goldie and Willa and Chickadee.

And Maria. Laying on the ground beside you, exhausted from the effort of dragging two humans out of the burning thatch of trees.

“Joel. Where’s Joel.” It hurts to speak. Breath comes fast and shallow.

Then he’s there with the others, a bruise blooming purple beneath his eye, saying only what scant words he needs to move past them and get to you. To Ellie. 

His hands are gentle, but his eyes are cold.

Two still, black pools reflecting fire.

_______

Perhaps unsurprisingly, you dream of Troy, his mangled face open and bleeding, laying in the hole next to Ash, mutilated, stopped at the moment of transformation into something more sinister, your ex-husband and his sister lost to you because they were headstrong, foolish, too devoted to each other….

Ash’s eyes open, what’s left of them anyway. “Abby’s afraid of heights. Didn’t even have time to tell her about the Roost being up on stilts. What’s a caboose?”

They didn’t know the Roost was elevated. They followed us out here and didn’t have a good plan. Is that it?

They don’t answer. They get up and climb out of the hole, turn their backs on your and walk into the forest. You call after them, desperate to have them back after all this time, begging them not to leave you.

But you’re calling after them wrong. You can’t seem to say Troy. You can’t say Ash.

You’re only calling out for Joel and Ellie.

_____

The next thing you know, you’re sitting up in the snow, leaning against Goldie, the girl patting at your cheek as you’re coming around. “Come on, come on back, baby.”

The sun’s up, but not high enough to breach the mountains circling the meadow. Everything’s still lit by the slowly dying flames.

The one two punch of Willa setting the bone and popping your shoulder back in must have sent you off. Looking down, you see you must have thrown up as well. 

“Holy shit,” you groan, “I’m sorry. Oh my god, holy shit that hurts.”

“I know, I know,” says Goldie, smoothing your hair and kissing your forehead. 

“Here,” says Willa, handing you some dark root. You forget what it’s called, you just know you gotta chew. “Don’t swallow,” she reminds you. “You ride with Goldie. She’ll keep you upright once that sets in.”

“I gotta get up,” you mumble, struggling to stand and inhaling sharply at the twinge of pain the movement brings to your bandaged and immobilized arm. Goldie’s able to help get you up, but seems hesitant to let you go. “Ain’t nothing wrong with my feet, lemme go. Where’s Ellie?”

But you don’t need to ask, she’s just behind you, laying on her back in the snow, one arm flung over her eyes, breathing heavy to manage the pain, leg bandaged and tourniqueted.

Good. Next priority. “Where’s Joel?”

Goldie points to the fire. It’s starting to die down, enough to make out the bodies of three teenagers consigned to the flames. Past them, the group of the regular patrol. Joel shaking his head at them, speaking. Jacket zipped up to the top, no scarf, no hat; probably got left behind in the Roost. Rifle over one shoulder. A backpack over the other.

But not his backpack. Why would he have someone else’s backpack? Why would he have one at all…

He’s…. No.

Pushing off Goldie, you immediately find out that walking is hard. Even if the pain’s just in one arm, everything’s connected, everything hurts; it’s disorienting. Your knees are bruised and even your soft sleep pants feel like sandpaper on them. Feet cold and wet, no boots…

Joel sees you struggling to get to him and walks away from the group and the fire, meeting you partway, catching your good arm as your fist falls hard on his shoulder and yanks, fingers digging in hard to his coat, doing your best to hold on tight, to keep him here, to convince him not to go.

“Don’t you dare, Joel Miller. What do you think you’re fucking doing???”

He says nothing, only lets you collapse onto his chest, to sob. There’s not even an arm to comfort you, he gives you nothing but the bare necessity, a wall to keep you standing, and you know nothing you say will make a difference. In essence, he’s already gone.

“Please. Joel. Don’t. Please don’t go.”

“Trail’s fresh. Best to get on before it snows and covers the tracks. One of them’s the pregnant girl. One of them’s bleedin’. They can’t get that far.”

“You don’t have to. Just come home.”

“They’ll just come back. Maybe not soon, but someday.”

He’s right. You know he’s right. Stepping back, it hurts to look at him. The Joel you love has been asked to step aside, the care and fondness he’s come to show you locked up somewhere secure, somewhere where it won’t get in the way. 

I warned you, this Joel seems to say, void of emotion, jaw set, brow even and low, hand on the strap of his rifle. You took me in knowing exactly what I am.

He’s right.

“I need you here, Joel. Ellie needs you here. Don’t you dare go…unless you can come back.”

“I need you here too. ‘S why I’m going.”

Nothing. No kiss goodbye, no waiting for approval, he just turns and walks. 

Maybe this is the last of it, just one last loose thread, then he can finally leave off wandering, finally shake off the killer and just come home, just be your Joel.

Convincing yourself of this is the only choice you’ve got.

________

You find yourself out on Maria’s back porch that night. Unable to sleep from the ache of the mending bone and the swell of your assaulted shoulder, it seemed like the best remedy was to find the toughest jerky in the kitchen, to sit on the porch in the cold and chew through the pain, and to lean back in one of the porch chairs with a soothing snowpack between it and your back.

The moonlight plays illusions like the canteen filmstrips–a summer image of Tommy and Joel teaching Ellie the mechanics of tackle football. The twinkle of the fireflies lending veritas to the picture…which in reality is only the twinkle of a dusting of new snow.

Not enough snow to make tracking impossible, but enough to make it difficult.

The back door opens and a blanket lands over your lap.

“Was gonna ask you if you wanted company, but then I decided, it’s my house and you don’t get a choice.”

Maria plops her own blanket in a nearby chair before disappearing and returning with two steaming mugs of tea as offering for the table between you. She takes her time covering you just so before wrapping herself up and joining you on the porch. “Suppose I should have asked if you want that cold pack changed before I get too comfortable,” she says, not really offering, but leaving the suggestion there between you if you need it.

It’s not necessary to talk for a while. She knows exactly what you’re thinking. Sees what you see.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Riley did,” she lies. You’d heard her shift when you got up from the bed–her bed, well, hers and Tommy’s. But hers and yours for now.

“Thanks for taking care of us.”

“You say that like you’re not my family.”

“Well then, thanks for staying behind as if you are.” 

It’s hard to see her out of the corner of your eye, backed by dark shadows. But the moon plays little crescents on her face, the curve of her nose, her cheek, her chin. Her voice comes out velvet from the dark.

“I know you’re pissed at Joel for going, but he’s doing the right thing.”

Now you make the effort to turn, rotating more from the waist than the neck to save the injury from twinging, but it does anyway, mirroring your spike in irritation. “Really? You think so? Is that why you sent Tommy with him? After all that time you spent bemoaning the things Joel made Tommy do all those years ago–”

“This is different. This is about the greater good.”

“You know that’s what the villain always says, right?”

She presses her lips together, hating that you’re right. “Okay, so maybe not the greatest good for the morality of the remainder of the human race, but. For the good of Jackson.”

“Two grown men hunting down two teenage girls is the greater good.”

“They won’t be teens forever. They’ve both got reasons to come back for their revenge. And now they know where Jackson is. They get taken in by the wrong people, and then the wrong people will know where Jackson is too and when they come back they won’t be alone. They’ll know exactly how many and what kind of folk to bring.” She holds your gaze for a few seconds, steady and wise but also warning, her warmth only thinly veiling the matronly protectress behind it, like a Durga on her throne. “You know why we have patrols. You know what happens to people that get too close. Two more drops in the bucket is all.”

“Three. One of those little girls is pregnant.”

She has no answer to this. Rather, your dig brings no new argument to the table. It’s just words, just a fact on the wind. It doesn’t sway the needle one way or the other.

It’s exactly what you’d been thinking about, staring up at her bedroom ceiling. Then out here on the porch. It’s like she knew you needed to hear the justification out loud.

“They would have killed him, lady. And Ellie. And you. I’m surprised you don’t want them hunted down like dogs.”

You turn your attention to the back yard, the smallest hump of leaves under the big tree there not quite scattered to the wind, sparkling with snow cover. You can almost still hear Ellie’s high laughter as it sounded the day she experienced her first leaf pile.

“Oh, I want them run down,” you say. “I’m all for that, let ‘em eat lead. I just didn’t want…” It’s not really necessary to continue. Maria knows exactly what you want. She always does. That’s why she sent Tommy with him. To keep him tethered to humanity.

To the way Joel watched Ellie jump and disappear into a poof of leaves. The sun in his smile. At peace. At home. Free from the old violence. Reborn.

I just didn’t want Joel to be the one to do it.

______

Maria’s dinner table feels empty. Funny, you think, it was always the two of you. For a while there was four, what with Troy and Ash, but most of the time just the two. Then Tommy. Then Joel and Ellie. Now Riley…well, that is, if he’s still up during family dinner.

You’ve slept through most of the light of day and was hoping to talk to Ellie at dinner, but Maria’s been taking all her meals to the guest room for her. Mostly so she doesn’t have to walk down the stairs on her healing leg, but also because Ellie’s not been talking since that night.

And you can guess why. It has less to do with the injury and assault or the fire, and more about the truths she learned during them. 

Not much to do. The arm has to stay stable, strapped to your body. At least they fucked up the non-dominant one so you can still hold a fork, still brush your teeth. But knitting? Spinning? Helping Maria clear the dishes? Fat chance.

Not much to do but chew root, smoke wild weed, and sleep it off.

Maria reappears with a plate needs washing. “There’s a break in the clouds. I got three whole words out of her. This might be your chance.”

“Oh. Joy.” It’s getting to be less of an effort to stand now that you’ve got rest and food in you. The stairs are daunting only because of the conversation that waits at the top.

A knock on her door only grants you silence.

“I’m coming in, Starling girl. Best not be naked.”

No answer. You take that as the opposite of opposition. Tolerance.

She’s sitting on the bed, propped up by pillows behind her back and under her knee, her bandages freshly changed, no more blood pooling or free bleeding. She plays with the cuffs of her sweater, tugging at a loop in the knit, a book abandoned by her side as if she’d put it down when you knocked. A good sign. She doesn’t want to hide.

You crawl in beside her, awkwardly, one-handedly, a big showy sigh of relief when you finally land. “You know, if I was your mom, I’d probably start off with ‘what’cha reading there, kiddo?’ just to get you to say something, but I’m not your mom and I’m not here to make you talk if you don’t wanna–”

“Well I don’t.”

“Good. I didn’t come up here to hear you yap anyway.” You detect the tiniest twitch of her cheek, not quite a smile, perhaps a sneer…to scare away a smile. “Don’t talk, just listen.”

“I don’t wanna do that either.”

“Tough titties. I’m cashing in exchange for all the time I had to listen to you go on about Sally Fucking Ride.”

Now she does smile. Barely. Gives you the teenager face you wanna slap sometimes. “Tough titties? Really?”

“They didn’t have tough titties in the orphanage? Seems off-brand.” The smile fades. “Tell me how you’re healing. I’m not asking, I’m demanding.”

A big breath in. But the air doesn’t come rushing back with a dramatic sigh, just melts out of her with a single tear she doesn’t move to brush away.

So you do. “That bad, huh.”

“It fucking sucks. It fucking sucks so bad.”

“Heh, tell me about it. I miss the good old days of ibuprofen. Shit. I miss morphine. You’re young though, you’ll be up and running in a week or two. Me? I’m gonna be aching for–”

“He fucking lied through his teeth.”

Ah. There it is.

Now the colony of tears follows the first scout, pouring out over the plains of her cheeks until she covers her face with those cuffs she’s been picking at, relieved at being able to let it all out in front of someone who might understand, but probably scared as hell to let herself be this messed up in front of someone who might not. A gamble.

And a win. You’ve still got one good arm and you put it to good use, pulling her into your side. “Yeah, you’re right. He totally did. He’s a fucking asshole. Why the hell would he do that.”

“It wasn't time that did it,” she hiccups from under her woolen cuffs.

“I don’t know what that means, Starling” you say, unable to stop yourself from kissing the crown of her head.

She wipes her nose and comes up for air. “I mean I know why. But he fucking lied about everything. Straight to my face.”

“Well, you’ve got every right to demand an explanation and an apology when he comes back. Straight to his face.”

“If he comes back.”

You let that sit a moment between you. It’s her way of saying that she knows you’re mad at him too, that she heard the conversation you had with him when he left. It’s her way of poking at your own fears and getting you on her side.

“Those girls aren’t armed and the Miller boys have a lot more experience with being hunters than those kids do being prey. He’ll be back.”

“I hate him.”

“I know. But also. You don’t.”

“I had a… a purpose. A fucking purpose.”

“Well….I know you did, but…probably not so much as you think.” She looks up at you but you can’t meet her eye, she’s right to mourn, and you can’t deny her that. “Remember what I told you about my sister and her treatments?”

“The research hospital.”

“Yeah. Cancer’s been killing people on this earth far longer than cordyceps and they’d had millions of patients to test on. Still couldn’t crack it. How many people are immune like you? Because if it ain’t millions, you just become one part sample in a petri dish and another part dead body that maybe give some vague clues and then you’re all parts in the bin, end of story. I mean, I’ll be honest. I don’t blame him. You’re quite a keeper.”

Now her sigh is dramatic. “And then he fucking lied about it.”

“So you would feel good about it. Accomplished in your goal. Also so you wouldn’t hate him for caring about you more than you do.”

“Why didn’t he just say–?”

“Do you know that man to be good with words?”

This quiets her. Both of you. For a few minutes. She goes back to picking at her sleeves.

The sun’s set completely now and her little bedside lamp can’t even drown out the stars so bright on the other side of the window. Clear night. Cold out there.

After a moment you take your arm back, jostle her with your shoulder. “Hey. I’m going out to the Meadow tomorrow, check in with Willa, look over the damage. If I bring you back a piece of the Roost, you wanna do some carving or whittling or something? We’ll build a platform like the old one and it’s probably just gonna be a tent up there for a while like it used to be, but hopefully this spring or summer we’ll get a structure up there and we’ll need a cornerstone or a plaque or something signifying its importance. Since you’re on your ass all day with nothing better to do, and you’re the star recruit, I’d love for you to do it.”

Her lips twist, half smiling at the request, but then in regret. “I lost my knife.”

“The one from your mom?” She nods. “Well if you’ll do some carding for me while I’m out there, I promise to look for it, ask around, maybe one of the patrol picked it up, okay?”

“Okay. Oh. By the way…How are you healing?”

“I’ve been worse. But mostly I’ve been better. Thanks for asking. ‘S kind of you. But don’t you worry about me.”

“Okay. Um…I’m…sorry about telling them about the meadow and all.”

“Why? You’re a Roostling. It’s your story to tell.” Sliding off the bed you head for the door. “Oh hey. I meant to ask–” you nod at the book by her side. “What’cha reading?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh…just porn.”

“Cool. G’night.”

“‘Night. Hey Meadowlark?”

You poke your head back in before the door closes completely. “Hm?”

“Thanks. For all that. But mostly for not calling me kiddo.”

You smile. Nod. Give her a warm wink. “Sure. I gotchu, kiddo.”

It’s worth the eyeroll you catch as you close the door.

________

The most sickening part of coming in through the north passage isn’t seeing the burn scar on the pine grove in the middle of the Meadow, isn’t missing the outline of the Roost through the trees, but rather the feeling that your home has been breached, that for a moment it wasn’t safe and now you’ll always wonder if it will be.

Riding across the north plain, you close your eyes and breathe, let the horse plod on without your guidance, he knows the way. Once spring comes and the valley fills with flowers and the music of the lambs calling for their ewes takes over from this cold silence that comfort will be renewed. 

But for now, there is no comfort on the Meadow in winter, not without a pretty little fireplace and a warm spot to watch the snow build up on the mountains.

You know what’s coming, but it turns your heart inside out all the same when you open your eyes.

Where once there was a cabin in the treetops is now a void leading downward to a pile of blackened rubble and debris. Off to the side under some lower trees is the old canvas tent with the vent hole and a friendly little trail of smoke rising from it. Willa always knew her way around a fire and didn’t mind keeping a low one going on the inside. You never were that confident, even with a fire-treated tarp.

She’s been at work out here, pulling useful things out of the rubble. The woodstove. The pulley jacks. A few timbers that are mostly unburned. 

But there’s a pile of other things too, useless items that shouldn’t be mixed back in with the earth: a burned walkie. Twisted silverware and blackened plates. The iron tools from the rafters. Shattered tile. Your charred and mangled boots.

All that’s left in the major wreckage is wood. And glass. And bones.

Three blackened skulls, three sets of eye sockets and three jaws gaping up at the sky as if they were caught in the moment of realizing their plans were going terribly awry. 

Stupid fucking kids. ….Just kids.

If someone asked you how you knew which one was Owen’s, you wouldn’t be able to say. You just know. The memory of him sinking that knife into Ellie’s leg…of hurting her…intent to kill… His skull breaks like a cracker when you put your weight on it.

Willa doesn’t say anything when she comes up along side to stare down at the bones with you. It's not the first time you've stood with her at the edge of a burned down home.

"I hate that it’s gonna take me a while to sift though all this,” you say.

“We’ve decided to skip your turn for a while. At least until there’s a new platform.”

You nod, resigned. You don’t love it, but it’s best. Trauma lingers longest of all hurt. 

“How’s the flock?”

“They’re over it.”

“Figures. Fluffy shits. Any chance you found a pocket knife out here?” You ask her.

She nods, reaches into a jacket pocket and there it is, like it’s been waiting to come back to its keeper, made itself shiny and easily found. It’s passed between you like a sacred object, holy, a relic saved and cared for, a thing infused with deep love and meaning. There’s an instant relief as your fingers curl around it, your shoulders relaxing and releasing a little of the pain.

“Thank you.”

“There was this too.” From the same pocket Willa pulls a disk of silver and glass, turning it over and placing it in your hand with the knife.

The watchband is burned away. But it’s otherwise unharmed.

Willa may be a stoic, but she knows enough to recognize a release through tears and to hold you while you cry.

Later that afternoon when you knock on Ellie’s door, you’ll hand her the knife and a piece of the old Roost to carve to consecrate the new one. And then you’ll give her the watch and ask her to be your hands, to help you with one more thing.

________

Two days later, you’re standing in Joel’s living room, never having been here when it’s so quiet, dark, and cold. With you and Ellie staying with Maria, there’s been nobody here to light a fire, to make the place live. You wouldn’t be here if Maria hadn’t made a side comment about maybe you and Ellie’d been in the same clothes for a day too many. Not that you thought you’d be with her that long.

She was right. It was nice to change into something clean–a soft fleece and some sleep pants. While the sword of Damocles kept things in check at Maria’s house, it did feel just this side of an extended girl’s night sleepover, might as well dress for it. Ellie had asked for something soft and comfy so you decided to go for it, an assortment of sweats and sweaters in the duffel at your feet.

What you’re eyeing at the moment is an empty hook on the wall by the fireplace.

You put your hand in your jacket pocket and pull out the watch.

Ellie did a beautiful job with it, took directions like a champ. Sitting together on her bed, listening to Joan Jett and Pat Benetar, you’d instructed her how to design the plaid stripes into the strap, how to knot and plait in patterns.

“Macrame. MACrame. Mac. Ra. Mayyyyyy,” Ellie’d chanted. “It’s a fun word to say. What’s it mean?”

“Fringe. Knotting. It’s just the name of the technique. I dunno. Probably something prettier in French.”

The strap clasps had been lost in the fire, so you’d had Ellie work him a new strap out of dyed and tightly-spun wool, something a little longer so he could tie it on. Most likely he’d come back here first, so you want to put it somewhere he’d see it, that way he could have it again without a lot of fuss but knowing at the same time you were thinking of him. So you slip the end loop over the hook, gently let it slip through your fingers and rest against the wall.

If he comes back…

The front door opens. Boots on the wood. The thump of a backpack.

By the time you’ve turned, he’s coming in through the front hall.

When he sees you standing here, he stops.

You never imagined this moment. You should have. It might have prepared you for the yellowing bruise on his face, the majority of his left pant leg browned with dried blood, his knuckles raw and just beginning to heal over.

You struggle with finding the right question. Find ‘em? They dead? Finish the job? No survivors?

I’d ask you what the hell you did, but I know and I don’t wanna hear you say it.

Instead all you can muster is a nod at the blood on his jeans.

His eyes slide to the staircase, already looking to move on, and he only answers with a short and shallow nod of his own before doing just that.

You find yourself sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, the duffel, the watch, back at your hands. Listening as he moves around upstairs, dropping boots, his belt buckle clapping to the floor. The shower running for a long, long time.

Sun’s going down. Getting colder.

The squeaks from the staircase are slow, softer than usual. He’s taking his time coming down. Doesn’t want to force himself back into a space so safe and quiet after pushing through one so big and mean.

He barely shifts the couch as he sits on the far side. Clean shirt. Clean jeans. A pair of socks you knit him.

“Where’s Ellie?” He sounds like he hasn’t spoken to anyone in days. You’d wager he hasn’t.

“With Maria. We’ve been staying there. I was just getting us some clothes. Didn’t think you’d be gone this long.”

“Neither did I. They had a head start. Younger. Faster. But you’re safe now. You’re both safe now.” He’s quiet long enough for the house to give a settling creak as the wind picks up outside. “How’s that arm?”

“Joel, you can’t keep us safe from the world. The world is what it is.”

“The fuck I can’t,” he whispers back, defiant, stubborn, with enough venom that he seems to scare himself and he breathes in deep, keeps it, holding back.

All you want is your Joel back. Even in all this mess. All you want is for him to lay down his fear and love you the right way. 

So instead of arguing, you get up and stand before him, give him the time it takes to understand you’re going to straddle his lap whether he helps you or not. He reaches for you on your way down, guides and supports you, allows you to rake through his wet curls before leaning in to take possession of his lips, to will him–by kissing through to his very soul–to come back to you.

He can’t help but respond, his whole body coming to life, and in the cold, twilit living room, you become a tangle of silhouettes as his hand pushes up under your sweater–somehow still keeping an aura of care around your ruined and wrapped arm–to squeeze almost painfully at your curves, rough and wanting, panting between devouring kisses as he paws beyond the waistband of your sleep pants, sucking at your neck when you throw your head back as he reaches what he was searching for….what you hoped he’d find…

There’s a tousle of repositioning and a clatter of belt and zipper. You’re both raw and rough and needy, and you both take advantage of the emptiness of the house to fill it with the sounds of desperation, of effort, the song of casting off of all inhibition, a duet of total and grateful release. 

But through it all, it’s the way he holds onto you that tells you how much he wanted to get back to you, how close he intends to hold you and never let you go, a desperation that tells you exactly where his faults lay…

…that it was necessary–and always will be–to eliminate any chance of someone taking you from his world by force.

It’s not so much possession as a fierce and burning need to be possessed. A need to belong, concentrated down to its basest form.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he softly kisses your temple, spooning you in the afterglow that burns bright in the darkening room.

“For what? You didn’t hurt me.”

“Rushed it a little. Tend to act before thinkin’ sometimes.”

You’re not completely sure what he means by that. At first you think he’s talking about the rough sex, but you get his meaning. Stalking off after Abby and Mel so impulsively. For being impulsive in general.

For acting out of trauma.

Or love.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to for that, Joel.”

You can tell the moment he understands when his forehead gently meets your shoulder. “Shit.”

It’s probably the best time to break it to him, while he’s still a little softheaded and euphoric. “She’s ready to listen. But I won’t promise it’ll be easy. It might just be you and me here for a while.”

Once his breathing evens out, he shifts, still holding onto you, but just coming back down, settling back in.

“What’s that?” He mutters, just on this side of falling asleep, lazily pointing at the watch on the hook by the fireplace.

“Your Valentine’s Day present. From both of us. Sorry it’s late.”

________

Taking some shifts off from the Meadow rotation affords you time to start slowly moving things over to the new A-frame, Maria helping you to load up a skid now and then and unload it, walking beside you as you lead the horse that tows it.

After a week or two, Ellie’s up and walking–well, limping, but healing–and starting to talk to Joel at dinner again. She’s on the verge of actually gracing his bad jokes with a smile or even a laugh, but she’s making him work hard for it. Good for her.

You haven’t asked either of them how the talk went. Don’t know if you ever will. That’s between them, the less you interfere, the better.

But you know that things are on the mend when you find Ellie playing Joel’s guitar–learning some Johnny Cash song you know he loves.

And you have a feeling that spring is on the way when you drop off another load at the new house and find a new frame on the wall–a handmade, custom carpentry display shadowbox.

With a watch hanging inside.

_______

PREVIOUS: AUTUMN

NEXT: SPRING AGAIN (coming soon)

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

[homeofatlas]

Wasted Days

Summary: Being in the public eye isn’t easy. Especially when you’re in love with your best friend. 

Authors note: Y'all.......I'm sorry this has been sitting half finished forever and i just needed to get it done and out there. Not edited. Also yes this is lowkey based on that line from call me by your name. but not really but inspired from it.

Word Count: 3.2k

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Being somewhat famous isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You loved the fans' sweet messages, the way they encouraged you and supported you when you had bad games, and how much dedication went into the edits and the fanpages. You’d even be lying if you said you hadn’t looked up your own name on tumblr to see if their was any fanfic of you. It flattered you, all these people you didn’t know idolising you and watching your interviews. What you didn’t appreciate was how they began to read into your relationship with your best friend. Could you call it reading into when they were just calling it like they saw it? It’s hardly their fault whenever you and elisa posted pictures of your excursions or you had interviews together you were staring at her like she’s hung the moon and the stars. It seemed quite rude of them to have to point that out though, in your opinion. 

The recent influx of comments asking whether or not you two were dating made your heart beat faster in your chest. Surely there must be something there that other people can see and you aren’t just making it all up in your head, right? If not then it’s blatantly obvious for the entire internet to see how in love you are with your best friend, Elisa. You honestly can’t help the way you allegedly look at her. You’ve tried to rein it in, you’ve tried to like other people, you’ve tried to not tell anyone and make it go away. But apparently no matter where you go as soon as anyone sees you interact with her it’s like you’ve got I’m in love with her tattooed on your forehead. 

During your professional football career you’d been at Montpellier with Elisa for a year before she’d left to join PSG. Giving you just enough time to learn everything about the girl and fall in love with her, convince yourself she might feel the same way, and then be heartbroken about her transfer. You’d kept in contact and tried to see her as regularly as possible but with training and games and travelling it’d been difficult until one day when you got the call from your agent telling you PSG wanted to sign you. Immediately you’d said yes in every way but in formal writing. 

Upon your first connection with the PSG team they’d noticed something was different about you. The way your hug reuniting with Elisa lasted longer than it potentially should have. The way she was more distracted with you around. The way she stuck to you like glue and smiled more than she had before. You’d gotten into the habit of constantly being around each other again. When you two played together there was no stopping you. You could read what the other was thinking before they did it. It was like watching one person be split into two bodies. Unfortunately none of these things made your crush on her go away or dull even a little. That old saying “Absence makes the heart grow fonder”? They had a point. 

In your time away from Elisa you’d forgotten the way her eyes crinkle when she smiled and the sound of her voice without the glitchiness of the phone. Constantly being around her again made everything better and worse at the same time. You were so screwed it wasn’t even funny. Which is why it took less than three weeks for the girls to corner you and ask about your relationship with Elisa. They’d assumed something had happened in the past or you were currently together. Either way that had been your first inkling you weren’t hiding your feelings as well as you tried to. Realistically there was only so much you could do before you started to avoid the girl or be constantly dead faced. You couldn’t help smiling at her the way you did or being the one she ran to when she scored a goal. If you’re being honest, it’s her fault for being so loveable. What were you supposed to do?

Pulling into the PSG parking lot you ready yourself for the teasing you know you’ll face. Elisa posted a photo last night which showcased you two looking awfully close together while on a night out with the team. You’d already skimmed the comments and they were the same on every post which had the two of you together. 

“Are Elisa and Y/N together?”

“They are such a cute couple!”

“My OTP”

Yeah, you thought bitterly, mine too. Scanning the parking lot to see which of the girls were already getting ready your eyes landed on Elisas car. Knowing she’s already there puts a pep in your step. Walking towards the change rooms weaving into corridors and making turns you come up on the hallway before the change room. You can hear voices inside speaking with one of the voices distinctly agitated. As you move to enter you hear your name. It’s Jackie and Elisa speaking about you. Deciding to wait for a moment, you want to hear what they’re talking about. You hear Elisas voice cut through the tense silence. 

“Drop it Jackie, we’re just friends. I don’t have feelings for her and I never have. Plus if anything was going to happen don’t you think it would have by now? We’ve been friends for years.” 

You can practically see the face Elisas disbelieving face as someone once again questions the nature of your relationship. Are you really so bad she can’t even see how someone else could see the two of you together? Your stomach turns at the thought. It never gets easier to see her with other people, or hear her refer to your love as being strictly platonic. It never feels strictly platonic whenever you shiver and she immediately throws an arm around you pulling you into her side. Or when she grabs you to tell you something when she could have called your name to grab your attention. Or when she cracks a joke and she looks at you first to see if you’re smiling. Those moments rarely feel entirely platonic. 

The words straight from her mouth saying she hasn’t got feelings for you makes you want to turn around and call in sick for training but you have to get over this at some point. You have to learn your place in Elisas life, her longtime friend, perhaps even her best friend. Not her lover. The realisation never hurts less despite the dozens of times you’ve come to it.

You give it a couple more minutes letting the conversation truly die out before walking in as though you hadn’t heard a thing. As you walk in you notice the way Jackie glances between you two. You’re sure your melancholy is written on your face, everything always is. You avert your gaze before she can decipher why. Thankfully she’s quiet while you change silently you really can't handle any teasing right now. Small bits of you break off every time you have to tell someone you and Elisa are just friends. Going up to the pitch and beginning to warm up Elisas words are still ringing in your head. Day 1067 (roughly) wasted thinking of a girl who doesn’t want you back. Story of my life, you think to yourself. 

—-------

A team dinner is the last place you want to be tonight. It’s good for bonding but you’re attached to Elisas side the whole time anyways. You aren’t sure you can get anymore bonded to her. You wonder how much of it is you sticking close to her and how much of it is her keeping you close. You wonder how far you’d get before she pulled you back into her orbit. Not very far, you reckon. 

Sakina slides into the seat opposite of you. You’d say her grin is wolfish but her features are too soft for the term. 

“So you two looked pretty comfy on instagram the last couple of posts. Anything you’d like to share with the team?”

Your eyes flicker to Elisa beside you only to find her making eye contact with Jackie a couple people down. Whatever telepathic conversation they’re having right now makes your chest burn. You’re supposed to be the only one who knows her that well. Your mouth is filled with a bitter taste and something clenches and flexes in your chest. You look down trying to contain yourself before replying to Sakinas comment. 

“We hang out a lot, sue us.”

You can feel Elisa nod more than you see it. 

“Plus Y/ns a good photo taker I’ve got to put her skills to use when I have them!” She says jokingly. She leans forward in her chair propping one elbow up on the table the other coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You glance to the side meeting her eyes and smile. Yes keep your focus on me, the beast in your chest sighs and relaxes. 

“Yeah but she’s been here for a while now. You’d think you guys would be sick of each other. I mean you’ve been friends for so long. What else do you even have to talk about?” 

You have a feeling it's time for Sakina to start drinking water. Luckily Elisa saves you from having to answer again. 

“Anything, everything, whatever we feel like mostly. Sometimes we talk about nothing at all and it’s the best conversation I'll have all day.”

See? It’s stuff like that which makes you wanna scream and shout and call bullshit on being platonic. 

It's like watching everything you've ever worked for go down the drain as Sakinas eyes light up. Something in her brain seems to scream BINGO!

“So have you guys ever….you know?” She looks between you two, clearly hinting at something. “Clearly you’re great together and have been in the same places at the same times coincidentally.”

Yeah coincidentally, you think. 

Elisa leans back in her chair seemingly nonchalantly, “I mean I liked her when we were younger but it was never the right time.” She shrugs as if she hasn’t just blown up the ground you’re standing on. 

“I mean we were young and starting out in our careers, we didn’t know where we’d go. There was no point in saying anything at that point.” You try to recover. Jumping in so it seems like you’re also unbothered and knew this information. You might pass out. It feels like the lights got brighter than they were a minute ago. 

Sakina puts down her drink and seems to take a pause before replying. She goes unnaturally still for a moment before she relaxes and looks between you two with a confidence you see projected towards crowds but rarely in spaces with her friends. You’re starting to think she’a lot more sober than she’s let on and this a massive ploy or some sick fucking prank you’re the victim of. 

“So why aren’t you now?”

Oh, Fuck. 

Damage control. 

Act like this is the first time you’ve thought of this. 

You see Elisas eyes darken and an intense look in her eye directed at Sakina which the girl seems to pointedly ignore instead putting on a vague attitude of indifference which seems to suggest she’s just come to an observation, not blown up your carefully constructed weird homoerotic friendship. 

“We could never jeopardise our friendship.” Elisa answers lamely. 

You feel nauseous. Someone might need to call an ambulance because you aren’t sure if your heart has beat at all in the past five minutes. You’ve got to get out of here, you need to be alone. Just as that crosses your mind, a warm palm goes to rubbing circles on your lower back. You know she’s trying to soothe you but right now she’s a match stick and you're an old crumpled newspaper. Glancing back you give Elisa a tight smile before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, instead you walk out the front door and go home. 

—----------------

You aren’t expecting to hear from her. She’s made it abundantly clear in the last 12 hours she values your relationship but strictly as friends and used to like you but doesn’t anymore? You sigh, needing a minute to shut your brain off. 

So when there’s a knock at the door you’re confused about who's at your door on a thursday night at almost 11 pm, you know it’s the one person who would’ve noticed you slip away. 

She’s the last person you want to see and the first one you want to go to about all of this. Being in love with your best friend is too frustrating, you think as you unlock the door. 

“You left.” She’s pouting in your hallway. 

“I’ve filled my quota of hearing why I’m not relationship material to you today. Thanks, come back tomorrow.” Crap. You’re tired and you just want to go to bed, it slipped out. 

“So this is about dinner?”

You’ve had enough. 

At 11:08 pm on day 1067 (roughly) of being in love with Elisa you’ve decided you’ve had enough. 

“It’s about us. I’ve loved you for a quarter of forever and I've spent all day listening to the ways you don’t like me in front of our teammates so excuse me if i had enough and came home.” 

“Can I come in? This feels like an inside conversation, not a hallway conversation.”

You hate how she’s right and how she places her jacket on the hook that’s unofficially hers. When you turn and she’s made your home hers. She does that a lot, gets into your stuff and makes it her own. Your heart was the first thing she ever did too. 

The moment you make eye contact with her again, it comes spilling out. 

“I’ve loved you since forever. Honestly I can't pinpoint a specific moment in time where I knew I was in love. But when I listen to music there’s montages of your smile running through my head and your spirit feels like everything good in the world. Violins and guitars remind me of you. You’re music. You’re art. I love you, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t.” Everythings comes out of Elisa at rapid fire. You’re left blinking at her tiredly. 

Word’s have done enough today. You’re too tired to talk. You walk over to her and tangle her hands with yours. Her fingers run along the sides of yours and you’ve never felt simultaneously at home and like you're on a rollercoaster. You love that feeling best when you’re with Elisa, she makes everything down to going on a walk feel like an adventure but also like you’re coming home and taking off your shoes and falling into bed when you’re tired. Safe, you realise, she makes you feel safe. No one ever felt this much like home before. In fact, you think if there is a home where all the atoms in the universe started your’s would be next to hers. 

She pulls you closer to her body and before you can register it you feel a soft kiss, tentative kiss on your lips. It feels so right. You’ve always felt like your bodies were made to fit together and now you have confirmation. 

“Sorry, I had to do that, I couldn't wait any longer.” 

You hum at the sentiment. 

She pulls away before bumping your foreheads together and letting it rest there. You love how Elisa knows you. Kissing is great but you know there’s more way to be intimate in a moment without you being attached to each other. Sitting here in this silence with her is filling your lungs with life again. You hadn’t noticed how little air you’d been breathing before, now every breath is a big heave and you’re trying to fill all your senses with her. You can see her, you can hear her breaths, you can feel her warmth against you, you can smell her, you can taste the chapstick she keeps in her car. This is where you’re supposed to be, you’ve never been more sure of anything. 

Her hand comes up to cup the side of your face. Speaking quietly she utters,

“We wasted so many days.” 

She sounds like she's laughing at the irony of it all. You know her well enough to detect the hint of bitterness in her voice. You think back to all the days you spent throwing her longing looks, waiting until she looked away or turned to look back at her. Everytime she smiled or laughed or frowned and they all went into a file to document exactly what she looked like. When you were younger and she would run up to hug you after a goal or the late night phone calls or the times where the moment hung just long enough for you to consider saying something. A light on the dark sea looking for a boat to say I see you, come home to me, I'll keep you safe. You wouldn’t trade any of those moments for the world. 

“No, my love,” you whisper back bringing your own hand up to clutch hers, “I haven’t wasted a single day loving you. You make me feel like I’m somebody when I'm next to you. I don’t care about how many goals or assists I have, none of that matters. I don’t need to be somebody to anyone, I want to be someone to you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

You love her so much it’s utterly overwhelming, you can feel your throat beginning to close up. Sometimes it’s hard for you to tell her you love her because she means so much to you. Words could never portray how essential she is to your being. All you can do is hold her and try to give her the same sense of safety and wonder she gives you. Your hands tightly grip hers. You can feel her lips ghosting over the skin of your face. Her warm and heavy presence reminds you that this moment isn’t a dream. 

You feel her press small kisses from your temple to your hairline, her hand moving to cradle the back of your head. Eventually she trails her kisses along your nose before hovering over your mouth where you meet her to connect your lips again. This kiss isn’t as soft as the last. This is the kiss which tells you she’s waited long enough to have you, she isn’t going to waste another moment. Your arms creep up to wind around her neck pulling her closer to you. A deep inhale from your nose tells her you don’t want to let go just as much as her. With a small bite to your lower lip, you knew you’d been right in assuming your chemistry would translate to the physical side of the potential relationship. 

Pulling away with great effort you ask her to stay over tonight. 

She replies by kissing you harder than before. 

Perfect, you think, you’re not going to waste one more day.

[tw1l1te]

Your writing is sooo good, i especially love the suggestive's one. And the smut 🙈

I really loved your story with the reader showing skin et flirting. Do you think you could do the same with War (my fave) and Time pretty please? ✨💖

And sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

Anon 🐎

I love Time so much, he helps with the daddy issues

𓇢𓆸.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Wars

Being a Captain was difficult in so many factors.

He had to be precise, smart, authorative, put together.

And right now, he is the complete opposite of those things.

After a messy run-in with some enemies from Legend's Hyrule, most of the group was covered in blood, monster guts, mud, you name it.

So Time suggested they all go wash up in some nearby hot springs, specifically the more private ones for your sake.

By some blessing or curse, Wars was allocated the same hot spring as you, the hot mist of the spring already getting to him

You told him that you'll go on the opposite side of the spring to avoid any awkward eye contact or body's touching.

You both turned around to give each other privacy, stripping all of your clothes and setting them on the side to be washed after they were clean.

You got in first, sighing at the hot water encompassing your entire body. You kept your back turned as Wars got in, letting him have some of his dignity

At the go-ahead, you turned around propping your back against the rocky wall, lazily scrubbing away at the caked-on blood and mud on your forearms.

Wars followed your motions, trying to distact himself from the growing bulge under the water. It was impossible considering the curve of your breasts was very visible through the water and your bare shoulders looked a little too unmarked-

"Wars? Can you get the mud off of my back, you know how unflexible I am."

He nodded, knowing if he said a word his voice would crack, giving away his little problem

Just half a foot away from him, he gently scrubbed the mud off, not going any lower than the surface of the water, after all, he was a gentleman he didn't want to be

You suddently spinned around, your face meeting with his chest

"Why don't I help you out...?"

Pardon-

Did he hear you correctly?

Did you want to...

"Turn around! I'll get your back, you stink!!"

By the Three, he needed to keep his mind out of the gutter.

Time:

He wasn't sure the last time he saw himself wearing the Hero's Garb.

It must've been, what, 5 years ago? 10? He lost track of time.

So when Wild showed him the outfits he had stashed in his Slate, he was suprised to see that it was the very same tunic, and not a replica.

He was suprised a second time when he saw the whole set being worn by you: his Sunflower

You walked back to camp, entranced in a flower you were holding, too preoccupied to notice the eldest taking your form in

By the Three, he forgot how skintight those tights were... but you made them look tailored to you

You look up, a slight blush on your ears, "O-oh, hey! Wild gave me your old tunic to wear, I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all, Sunflower."

He wish he could've taken a picture of how cute you looked, stuttering and blushing.

You walked up to him, the curve of your ass being just barely visible for him to see. Something about you in his clothes made his darker side ignite.

You were called by Wild, needing you to taste something by the fire. You jumped up, jogging up to wild as the short green tunic flounced at your movement. Your chest bounced slightly as you skipped to the cook, Time's eyes slightly lidded at your form.

You leaned over, hands on your knees, giving Time the perfect tease. You looked back at him for a second before biting your lip, giving him the thought that you were doing this on purpose.

You were gonna end him-

𓇢𓆸.𖥔 ݁ ˖

[envysparkler]

“Got Scarecrow,” Nightwing chirped through the comm, accompanied by a stream of mad rambling about worst nightmares and reliving terror that thankfully cut off when Crane was passed off to the police.

“Everyone, report,” Bruce ordered, finishing with the zipties around the hands of the last of Scarecrow’s thugs.  The battle had been hectic, and Bruce had lost sight of all his children during the melee.

“Nightwing, heading away from the police, no injuries.”

“Robin, southwest corner, no injuries.”

“Robin, you have a sprained wrist,” Nightwing chided.

“No injuries,” Robin snapped.

Bruce suppressed his sigh and dropped down to the alley where his eldest and youngest were bickering.  “Red Robin, report,” Bruce reminded across the comms, before kneeling to check Robin’s wrist.

It was sprained, and Bruce called the Batmobile to their location instead of letting them grapple back to it, ignoring Damian’s pointed huff.

“Red?” Nightwing said warily, and Bruce felt an icy curl of dread in his stomach.  “Red Robin, check in.”

No response.

“Who last had eyes on him?” Bruce asked, heading back into the warehouse and ignoring the police picking over the scene.

“I lost him at the start, I was trying to stay close to Robin,” Nightwing said, following him.

“I saw Red near Crane,” Robin huffed, “The next time I looked, Crane was alone.”

“Red?” Bruce called again, scanning the warehouse for any hint of red-and-black in the shadows, his unease growing stronger.  Crane had been raving about the prototype of his new toxin, had Red Robin—

A ping sounded, and Bruce pressed the button to connect to whoever was trying to reach him—had Red Robin’s comm been accidentally disconnected during the fight?

“Will someone,” Jason’s growl cut through the comms, “Tell me how the hell—” he sounded furious, and an alarm started blaring in back of Bruce’s head—“The Replacement knows where I live?!”

“Hood?” Nightwing froze, twisting to look at Bruce—he didn’t need to see past the mask to know that Dick’s eyes were wide and worried.

“What is Red’s status?” Bruce asked, wincing when it came out more like a demand—Jason’s temper was fickle at the best of times, but if he was already in a bad mood, then Bruce was one misstep away from waking up to see half of Gotham levelled.

“He broke into my safehouse while I was sleeping,” Jason snarled, “What do you think his goddamn status is?”

Not good.  Very not good.  They had all breathed a sigh of relief when Jason decided to stay off patrol due to his broken ribs, and doubly so when they received word that Crane had broken out of Arkham.

“Hood,” Bruce tried as they exited the building—Jason had safehouses scattered all over Gotham, and Bruce was sure he didn’t know about half of them.  “Where are—”

“Robin?”  That was Tim’s voice, echoing oddly through the line.

“The demon brat’s bedroom is on the other side of the city,” Jason snapped, and Bruce registered the too-fast breathing and desperately wished he was standing between his sons.

“Hood, Red might’ve been hit with fear toxin,” Bruce managed to get out, but it didn’t do anything to calm Jason down.

“So, what, he came here to finally finish off the big, bad Hood?” Jason sneered, and it was difficult enough to talk Jason down when he was standing in front of Bruce, Bruce had no idea how he was going to do it over the comms.

Jason, stop he discarded.  Wait, Jason listen except Jason wouldn’t definitely not listen.  Jason, please but Jason would take offense at that.  Don’t murder your brother was unlikely to be received well.

“Hood, just tell us where you are,” Nightwing tried, “We’ll get him out of your hair, I promise.”

Jason inhaled sharply and Bruce inwardly winced, waiting for the diatribe—

“Robin,” Tim sounded distant and choked, “Help.  Please.”

Damian jolted forward, visibly surprised.

Jason’s connection closed with an audible click.

Bruce stared at Nightwing and saw his own trepidation reflected in his son’s face.

~#~

It took them twenty minutes.  Twenty minutes of Oracle hacking the security cameras to figure out where Tim had fled, twenty minutes to confirm that one of the prototype vials of fear toxin was missing, twenty minutes to listen to Crane’s cackling about trapping people in one of their worst memories.

Between Tim and Jason, there was enough past trauma to cause several murders.  Everything about Jason’s past was a landmine, and while Tim was usually good at navigating it—better than Bruce, at any rate—he would be oblivious while trapped inside his own head.

Finally, Oracle managed to catch Tim slipping into a side street in Crime Alley, and not appearing out the other side.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Nightwing murmured as they followed the coordinates, “You know how protective Jason is over his safehouses—”

“When Hood stops being an insane murderer, he can have his privacy back,” Robin snapped.

“Come on, baby bat, Jason won’t actually hurt Tim,” Nightwing said quietly, “He just needs some time to calm down and get out of his bad mood.”

“Drake is currently drugged and vulnerable, it would be the height of foolishness to place your faith in his continued survival in the hands of Todd,” Robin sneered, taking the fire escape down, and Nightwing shot a startled glance at Bruce before following after him.

Jason’s apartment was the third one Bruce checked, and he felt the tension in the air as the window slid open with a near-soundless squeak.

“Get out,” Jason said, voice low and rough, before Bruce had even cleared the threshold of his room.

“Jason,” Bruce started, slow and quiet, but Jason cut him off.

“Get out,” Jason snarled, but his voice cracked halfway through and Bruce stepped inside the bedroom, alarmed.

“Jason?” he called out, finding the curled up figure in the shadowed corner.

“You found him,” Nightwing said breathlessly, and Damian shoved past him with a terse, impatient sound.

“Get. Out,” Jason snapped, his breath…hitching.  He sounded like he was crying.

Bruce immediately turned to find the lights.

Jason was sitting, back pressed to the corner, with Tim in his lap, head pillowed against his brother’s chest.  The mask was gone, as was the cape, and Tim blinked open half-closed eyes at the sudden emergence of the light.

Jason was hunched protectively around him, a glare already forming on his face, but there were splotches of color on his cheeks and his eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“Robin,” Tim breathed out as soon as he saw Damian, reaching out a hand.  Damian stared at him, clearly taken aback, but shuffled forward until he was close enough to touch.  Jason watched them both with narrowed eyes.

Tim made a half-lunge forward, snagged Damian’s cape and dragging the younger boy into an embrace as he curled back into Jason.  Damian squawked, but Tim was holding him too tightly—Damian would have to break something to get out of his grasp.

They could all see the exact moment that Damian realized this and subsided with a scowl.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

I need tsundere gap moe

HK416/WA2000 going too far on a specific aspect her partner is uneasy at and lowering their walls, trying to make it up

(GFL) HK416 and WA2000 letting their walls down for S/O

tsundere gap moe is what I live for

To say 416 had a sharp tongue was a dramatic understatement.

Not a day went by where she wouldn't admit something solely due to pride.

She had thought her actions spoke louder than her words, but sometimes she isn't aware just how loud she is in general, especially her insults.

Even with S/O, her habits refused to back down, leading to an occasion where her usual snark had genuinely hurt S/O's feelings.

(S/O) "416, you need to calm down-"

416 clicked her tongue in annoyance as she put her equipment into the locker, one eye glancing over to S/O.

(HK416) "Like hell I will! I have a right to be angry, my ass is always out there, always about to be blown up into a billion damn pieces!"

She spun around and jammed a finger onto S/O's chest, her voice only increasing in volume.

(HK416) "I don't see you risking your neck out there! You're just sitting around here doing nothing while us T-Dolls do all the work! I don't wanna hear a single fu-..."

416 quickly cut herself off seeing S/O seemingly shrink back from her, and detecting their heartrate growing at an alarming rate, as if they were in danger.

When she pulled back, S/O winced when their hand brushed over the area she had jabbed them with, suddenly being reminded that she was a T-Doll, and S/O was human.

Her voice grew quiet as she hesitated, stepping forward carefully as to not spook S/O again.

(HK416) "S-Shit, I'm sorry, I-..."

She looked to them for permission to approach, and seeing them sigh and relax their shoulders, she gently rubbed the spot she had presumably hurt them, cursing at herself under her breath.

(HK416) "I...I didn't actually mean any of that-"

(S/O) "It's okay, I know you didn't. I want to help you out on the field, I truly do, but I know I'll just slow you and the rest of 404 down."

They averted their eyes from meeting hers, still looking understandably hurt.

Her fingers fidgeted for a moment before she checked the hall behind her, ensuring they were alone.

After doing so, she slowly and awkwardly wrapped her arms around S/O, trying her best to not let her usual language slip up and hurt them even more.

(HK416) "Honestly, I'm glad you're here. It's a lot safer at the base than it is out there..."

She wanted to say more, but found the words getting caught in her throat, unable to voice them.

So instead, she hugged them tighter, relaxing when she felt S/O's arms wrap back with their heartbeat stabilizing.

(HK416) "You'd never slow me down, S/O."

(S/O) "Hah, that's a lie and you know it-"

She put a finger onto S/O's lips and sighed.

(HK416) "Let's get something to eat. It's on me tonight."

A paid dinner was not nearly enough for how bad she hurt S/O with her carelessness, but hopefully it was a start.

Trying to get WA to say what was truly on her mind was like getting a cat into a bath: annoyingly difficult.

She barely did so with any of the other T-Dolls and the Commander, even the presence of her S/O seemed to exacerbate the issue.

But WA was always remorseful in private that she wasn't as honest as she could be.

S/O had become used to her antics, and that only made WA further irritated.

S/O had truly entrusted their heart to her, a T-Doll of all things.

And she could barely do the same for someone who saw her more than that, maybe one of the only few who would.

It was only a matter of time when WA childishly called them names would be the last time, right?

(S/O) "...WA?"

She snapped out of her thoughts as her finger stopped tracing the outline of the wine glass, turning back to S/O.

Their brows were slightly furrowed out of concern.

(S/O) "You alright?"

(WA2000) "...Just thinking. P-Promise me you won't laugh!"

S/O nodded and held her hand, turning her cheeks as crimson as her eyes.

(S/O) "I promise. Go ahead."

(WA2000) "How are you not sick of me?"

Before S/O could ask what she meant, WA continued while looking at them directly.

(WA2000) "I...know I struggle with telling you how I truly feel, but you've always been so patient, no matter how many times I call you an idiot, or a pervert, or whatever. But, why are you still with me?"

S/O was silent for a moment, one finger idly tapping the top of her hand.

(S/O) "Truth be told, I'm actually astonished you're still with me. Considering that I can barely do anything to help you directly."

WA immediately wanted to call them an idiot for even thinking that they have done so little for her...But, that would have completely defeated the purpose of why she brought this up.

Instead, WA shoved her glass further into the counter before her head leaned onto S/O's shoulder, still holding onto their hand.

(WA2000) "I think the fact I can even talk to you about this proves that you've done more than you think..."

Being this close, she didn't even need her scanners to detect S/O's heart beating faster, feeling S/O hold her closer.

(S/O) "I'm glad..."

WA shut her eyes as her voice grew even quieter. Maybe it was the alcohol or her own feelings, but it let her speak her mind clearly.

(WA2000) "I'm glad you're here too, S/O. Don't forget that."

[cupids-chamber]

— I'M GONNA LOVE YOU, RIGHT TILL' YOU HATE ME GENDER NEUTRAL READER 

IMAGINE: Yandere!Twst cast, dreaming of the MC, before they ended up Twst, and even though they searched for them, they couldn't quite find them... now that they've found them.. they can't seem to let you go.. how would they feel when they've learned that there are more competitors for your love.

A/N: I'm gonna call this the dreaming of you au! I have some plans for it.. I had to split this in part, because of tumblr's fucking word limit.

SAVANACLAW / HEARTSLABYUL / DIASOMNIA / OCTAVINELLE / SCARABIA + IGNIHYDE / POMEFIORE

He couldn’t recall when the dreams had first started, it was quite suffocating.. Looking back, he was tired of the same dream over and over again, yet it changed.. Slowly, he watched you growing up along with him, it was as if his dreams mirrored your own life.. And at one point, he believed that these vivid dreams held some meaning, there had to be a reason why he’d keep seeing the same person over and over again… At one point, he even started to believe that you were his.. Someone meant for him.. And as he grew older, he couldn’t help but search for you, wanting to validate his thoughts and imagination, which has gotten rather out of hand over the past few years. 

He didn’t even consider that others would have taken interest in you as well, ‘did they see you in their dreams as well?’.. The thought would have driven him wild, had he not been patient thus far, he might have truly lost himself then and there.. However, if he had waited this long, then it wouldn’t have been difficult to wait a bit longer.. After all.. He knew you a lot better than you know yourself.. He just needs you to realize.. That you’re his.. and he is yours…

YANDERE!MALLEUS, The first meeting he had with you, felt like another dream.. He couldn’t help but wish that it was a reality, but he quickly came upon the realization that you could see him, and that this was in fact, not an intricate dream.. Whether it was a blessing or a curse that you were here, he couldn’t help but let his enthusiasm slip through his composure and create cracks in his behaviorisms. He gazed at you in a soft endearing manor, that was sure to waver one’s heart, he knows you much better than you had expected, you couldn’t help but find it odd, that he could just tell how you felt, and conclude what certain mannerisms had meant, how you would fiddle around when you were anxious or growing impatient.. You should’ve been concerned.. But Tsunotarou was your dearest friend.. And of course a dear friend would know of your feelings.. wouldn’t he..?

YANDERE!LILIA, Lilia didn’t have something so unexpected happen to him in quite the while, he had seen someone in his dreams, upon his move to NRC, maybe it was the change in climate getting to his head, or his age finally catching up to him.. Well if that was the case, he surely would have realized sooner. His dreams consisted of someone, a human.. And overtime, as year one passed and year two slowly approached, Lilia had started harboring and developing a sort of interest in this little human.. One who was not of this world, but much far away in fact.. He couldn’t help but grow more and more intrigued by that revelation.. He didn’t plan on doing much, despite being more than capable of doing so, he was captivated by you.. Yet he knew better than acting upon desire towards you.. Until of course he saw you here at NRC.. if you were so near.. Why should he stop himself.. He had no reason too.. and he didn’t intend to either. 

YANDERE!SILVER, Silver had always been one to dream of a sweet and caring relationship, when it came to the aspect of love, even during childhood, not having much of a couple that he saw growing up, he didn’t quite have a label or definition on how someone should love, and he doubted getting his fathers advice would help, so when he had seen you in his dreams, he paid no mind.. He had given you a charming dream even, “Mrs. Fairy” it was rather odd calling you a miss, while you were most likely his age or younger at the time.. He never really interacted with you, finding it more or less peaceful watching you from afar, you were majestic.. and amazing.. He analyzed everything you did, with great fervor, he couldn’t tell as a child, but as he grew.. He knew that he had fallen for you.. The aspect of love in a foreign sense felt ever so foreign to him, yet he couldn’t help himself from falling for someone as charming as you.. So it was to no dismay that he had fallen for you.. Someone as charming as you deserved only the very best.. And when Silver first laid eyes on you in person, he felt as if he had fallen for you all over again, mumbling under his breath about how all the more amazing you were in person, he could’ve sworn he saw an angel, but once he had come to realize, others were hindering in his perfect romance, he had decided to take on a different approach, after all.. This was his fairy tale to tell and create. 

YANDERE!SEBEK, Sebek didn’t know how or why he was dreaming of you, to be quite honest it ticked him off more than causing him any sort of pleasure or comfort, yet over time.. He found himself falling for you.. It wasn’t explainable, in fact he couldn’t recall how he had fallen for such a lowlife such as yourself.. Sebek felt awful for loving you, yet he wanted to keep you his at the very same time.. But you were a fragment of his imagination no less, he’d feed himself these useless words of comfort, thinking they’d hinder his thought process and undo the threads of love that so tirelessly binds him to you, he despised you and yet wanted you, this human.. From a dream no less! Too look at him.. Only him.. And yet.. you.. you.. never did. He had hoped and prayed that by entering school, he’d busy himself enough to forget about you and your ever so disturbing existence.. If you ever did truly exist.. Yet his hopes were in vain when he saw you.. With another.. well that wouldn’t do.. no this wasn’t what he wanted.. nor would he tolerate such disrespect from an insolent human such as yourself! 

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[veala2]

✦ “ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜꜱɪɴɢ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ.” ✦

fluff (angst?) prompt: “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

SYNOPSIS - It was your choice, and he didn’t like it. After coming back from helping your allies in Wholecake, tensions grow between you and your captain and your interactions become awkward. The now freed Wano gives you and Law the chance to speak to one another and express both of your true feelings.

CW - spoilers! mentions of stuff from Wholecake to the end of Wano, gn!reader, usage of “Y/N”, mentions of arguments, reader fights off and kills a beast, mention of fainting, holy this is a lot more angsty than I imagined.

A/N - Sorry guys, a lot is happening in my life rn so if I’m not posting that much that is why. Hope you all enjoy this :))

To say your captain is always stressed is like saying a cat likes milk. It’s just so common. Unfortunately, Law’s stress levels currently were as common as a pig that can fly.

The Heart Pirates made it to Wano just a week prior. You’d decided to follow the handful of strawhats to Whole Cake to help them retrieve their friends and the poneglyph that Big Mom kept in her protective castle.

Much to your captains dismay, to say the least. The two of you fought before you left. He hadn’t wanted you to leave, and you wanted to do something to help with your friend's crew.

Words were said. He argued the strawhats as not being their friend, and how you should “join them if you loved them so much” while storming off. Leaving you saddened and upset. As the mission went on, you couldn’t help but worry for your crew.

Well… more for your captain than crewmates.

Due to the strong currents of Wano upstream entrance, you crash landed in the country and were now searching for your crew in an attempt to keep yourself out of any danger. Which was a lot trickier than you imagined, being that you were venturing through a forest that was packed with dangerous animals. Leading you to your current situation.

“Take this!” You exclaimed, taking your weapon and striking the creature. It screeches in pain, dropping to the ground and effectively disabling it for good.

You take a second to breath, walking up to the beast and dealing the finishing blow. The rush of adrenaline slowed and you steadied your heart rate. All of a sudden, you hear a loud sound of feet coming towards you. Without a second thought you ripped the weapon from its place from the beast's corpse. Ready to attack. When the threat you had thought was completely different.

“Y/N! IT’S US! DON’T ATTACK!” Called a voice that you had remembered. You jumped with joy as you ran over to your crews very own first mate, Bepo. As he wrapped his soft body around you in joy.

“Bepo! Oh my god- I missed you so much!” You gushed. From behind, Sachi and Penguin came up and hugged you tightly as well. It wasn't long before your captain came.

“Captain…” You mumbled. He kept his gaze on you, a frown displayed prominently on his face. Though, you could make out a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Law was always a very proud man. Things not going his way would be difficult for him, and he’d say and do stuff he soon regrets later. He has his faults for sure. But he always made up for his mistakes. In his own Law way.

His silver eyes looked you up and down. You couldn’t help but notice his hands that slightly shook. It was clear his eyebags had gotten heavier and darker since last you saw him. You wondered if it was because of the plan or you.

Before you could say anything, he walked up close towards your direction. Your heart rate increases once again. His arm reached up, causing you to close your eyes in a knee jerk reaction. After a couple of seconds you opened your eyes. Only to find your captain holding out a leaf in front of you, and a lingering feeling of a hand in your hair.

“You had something in your hair.” He states, tossing the leaf aside. A blush came on your face, and you awkwardly laughed.

“Ah. yeah, I guess so. Thanks, captain.” You sputtered. Walking away, you turn your head back to your captain talking to Bepo.

He turns his head to you, and your eyes lock together for a second before the both of you let go. A sinking feeling surfacing in your stomach. It felt bad… but also felt good. A confusing feeling for sure.

Trafalgar Law was at a standstill. For one, he had a pounding headache and his stress levels almost made him feel nauseous. At the same time, he felt funny at the sight of seeing you again. He couldn’t tell if he was happy or upset.

It was just a confusing feeling for sure.

The war was over.

After days of preparing, planning and fighting, the country of Wano was free and it was the perfect time to party and rest.

At the sound of Kaido defeated, you fainted. The fight took everything out of you. You had awoken to the sound of your friends cries for you to wake. And it had taken a moment before you realised you weren't dead, and your crew was cheering with joy and not fear.

After wandering around you had caught your captain. Sat upon an engawa that viewed the entirety of the Flower Capital in its joyous and festive mood.

He sat with his clean kimono and usual hat put off to the side. Letting you gaze at the back of his raven hair. He seemed content with his relaxed gaze peering over the city.

With caution, you waltzed over to him and lounged next to him. Not saying a word. He glanced over in your direction.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re awake.” He says, surprised. You keep your mouth shut and keep on looking ahead. He starts again, taking a long breath before.

“Y’know, those idiots wouldn't stop crying about you. They kept asking if you were awake every five minutes. God, they’re so annoying…”

You figured he was talking about Bepo, Sachi and Penguin. As they burst into tears at the sight of you awake and well.

“The whole country is celebrating after everything. It’s ironic how they’re the same people who supported the bastard.” He comments, with a scoff.

“I can still feel the pain from before. All that planning and strategizing went to waste thanks to Strawhat- ya’s idiocy. What would he know about a good plan? He invited you to go on that stupid rescue mission.”

“God, I was so furious when you left. You were reckless, stupid and a fool. So adamant about “helping a friend” and “doing it for us”. You didn’t have to prove that you were a good person by leaving.”

“You have no idea how worried I was. For our plan to work, for us to come out of this alive… for you. I’m still a little shaken from everything.”

“Why did you leave us? I’m still…”

“Damn it, Y/N, will you say something!?”

He asks, loudly and with a hint of anger behind his eyes. Along with another hint of sadness. You couldn't help but smile at his silvery eyes as they tried to pierce through your own. But with no avail.

Your hand went up, a finger pointing towards his messy, black hair. You giggle.

“You have something in your hair, um… do you want me to get it out?” You ask, smiling.

A small blush forms on his pale blue cheeks, stretching out to the very tips to his ears. He slowly nods and lets you gently remove the pale pink sakura petal out. A stark contrast to his hair. You giggle once more and with a soft blow, you watch the petal fall down to the restless crowd below. Disappearing into the Flower Capital.

“And this time I asked.” Adding on with the question. Making him embarrassingly scoff and look away. Like a little boy.

“Yeah, thanks…” He mumbles, crossing his arms together.

Without hesitation, you scooch in closer towards him and rest a head on his shoulder. Mainly to test the waters to see what he’ll do. Law tenses, but lets you do what you please. A shaky breath leaving him.

“Law, listen,” You start, gaining his attention by him turning his head to you, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know how much stress I put you under, really. The guys wouldn’t stop talking about it. And- for the record- you weren’t the only one worried. I couldn’t leave the thought of something happening to you in the back of my head.”

His eyes widened. Not leaving your illuminated face. You look over to him, smiling.

“And… for the record again, I was mainly worried about you. You and your stupidly cute worried face.”

A pregnant pause took hold. You wondered if you said something wrong, your heart skipping a beat. Glancing over, you guessed a not so pleased Law. But instead, you were given a captain with a smile. A growing and bright smile.

“God, that’s so stupid. Just like your stupidly cute face, too.” He says, repeating your last sentence in a way that made you playfully nudge him in the shoulder.

The two of you spent the night together just sitting and watching the night progress. After your confessions, everything seemed to go so smoothly. Laughing at your friends partying and tripping while under the influence. It made you feel like parents, in a sense. Watching over your stumbling kids. Law takes a long breath before speaking again.

“Please don’t leave me again, Y/N. I love you too much to lose you.”

“I love you too much to make you worry. So, don’t worry about it, Captain.”

[purpleberiii]

"You belong to me"

☆Prompt: Shalom and Reader has been friends since childhood and Reader has always been in love with Shalom until one day, Reader had to move away and she never saw Shalom again. Shalom hadn't figured out her feelings for Reader but one thing she knows for sure is that Reader belongs to her.

☆Warnings: Possessive Shalom, G!P Reader, nothing too intense, quite an innocent reader, Slight Anne x reader, beef between two of my wives (Anne and Shalom)

Growing up in Syndicate, it was not a good life. You got bullied and beaten every day, made fun of because of the way you looked. When you moved to the East Side, under the care of the Nineth Agency, life became immediately better, and it became the best point in your life when you met Shalom. Together you and Shalom battled the world and every danger it threw at you. One thing you knew for sure was that you were in love with her and when you told her, she replied with this, "Oh? You like me? That's quite unexpected. But I can't give you an answer now. I don't understand how my heart works."

The next day, Shalom disappeared. You knew she wasn't dead, but she just randomly disappeared. You grew up years later, still stuck on that beauty. Even after being appointed Chief, and hundreds of women threw themselves at you, you rejected them, your heart and love was for Shalom. But with recent events, you ended up back in Syndicate, and you met a wonderful doctor, Anne. She was gentle and soft spoken, reminding you of Shalom and slowly your feelings dissolved for Shalom and re-grew for Anne. The two of you started hanging out, it wasn't nothing to serious but you saw potential.

You were peacefully in your office when you got a call from the arrest captain that an unknown Sinner was there. She was accompanied by some members of FAC, meaning that she was VIP. She even requested to meet you specifically and when you entered the room, your heart left your body. "Shalom?" You whispered softly.

Shalom had that gentle smile, one you had grown to love and cherish. "Why isn't it the Chief of MBCC? How have you been, old friend?" She smiled, her smile carrying a familiar warmth in it.

"Cut the crap! Where have you been?! Why did you suddenly disappear like that?!" You approached Shalom and pulled her into a hug. Shalom didn't hug back for a few seconds.

"I've been quite alright. How are you? Did you meet anyone interesting these days?" She smiled, a knowing smile.

Now that you met her again, feelings that you've buried deep down resurfaced back again and you suddenly felt it difficult to speak. "I-uh...I no...yeah...."

"Yes? No? Which one is it? Don't be shy tell me." She chuckled slightly.

"...I can't tell you where I was. But all that matters is that I'm back and yes... I've missed you as well." Shalom returned the hug, and buried her face in your neck, inhaling the scent of your body which made goosebumps arise.

"I've heard what happened these past few months. I didn't know my y/n had the courage to stop two black rings," she sat on the chair as you did on the opposite one.

"It was my duty to interfere."

"Hmm? You've gone cold y/n. Did my absence affect you that much?"

"You-" you gritted your teeth before sighing.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. Shalom I-"

"Shh~ no need to tell me more. I can clearly see how you feel."

"...what do you mean?" You hadn't realised you were crying until you felt a tear rush down your eyes. Quickly, you wiped it away before returning your gaze to a smiling Shalom.

"Why are you here?"

"I've been sent by the FAC to assist the MBCC on their tasks for the next few months."

"I don't need your help. The MBCC is capable enough to handle our own problems."

"Well... don't tell me... tell the FAC."

Facing the FAC was a big no for you. You already have problems with the Nineth Agency so you don't wanna get under the radar of the even higher ups.

You stood up and motioned for Shalom to follow you. The two of you walked through the MBCC building, showing Shalom around. When you arrived at the nurse's quarters, you were immediately greeted by Anne, who had a bright smile on her face. "Ah Chief, I've wanted to see you," she peeked behind you to see Shalom standing behind you with an expression you couldn't read.

"Who is that?"

"This is Shalom, she'll be assisting us for the next few months. Shalom, this is Anne my um... Nurse."

"Nurse? It's a pleasure to meet you Anne," Shalom smiled bitterly. Anne returned the smile.

"Likewise Shalom." Although no words were spoken after that, you could tell that a battle had started between the two. Anne didn't sense any good vibes from Shalom and Shalom didn't like the fact that Anne was close to you.

"Well uh-we-we-i have to keep showing Shalom around. I'll see you later, babe-um I mean Anne."

Anne looked at you with a raised eyebrow. Why did you change your nickname from babe to Anne. "Are we still on for tonight, Chief? I've bought a beautiful red dress that I'd love to try on for you!"

"Ah, yes yes I-we're still on." You nodded before hurriedly pushing Shalom out. The two of you headed back to your office where you immediately collapsed onto the couch.

"Anne huh? More like babe," she chuckled darkly. You didn't understand why she suddenly changed behaviour but all you understood was that Shalom was jealous and it was radiating off of her like perfume. "Do you think that the higher ups will let this slide, Chief?"

"T-they don't know."

"How long do you think this secret will be hidden? Eventually, they will find out. I advice you to quit your relationship with that nurse of yours." Something in her tone suggested that she was pissed.

"Okay? And why do you care all of a sudden about who I date huh?" Shalom chuckled as she straddled your lap, cupping your face while stroking your cheek.

"Because my dear Chief, you belong to me."

[tlou-reid]

Timeless ❆ Aaron Hotchner

☃︎ SUMMARY: a timeline of Aaron’s and his soulmates’ love life.

☃︎WARNINGS: random asshole character at the beginning, aaron and jack being cuties, death and mentions of an undisclosed illness, a funeral :(

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

“We would have been timeless, ‘cause I believe that we were supposed to find this. So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.”

Day One

“Aaron!” the barista called into the busy cafe, setting down a carrier of four drinks. His name was quickly sketched across all four, signifying his loss to the team.

Aaron, Penelope, JJ and Luke had made a bet that Aaron would have a home cooked meal for five out of the seven days they were in town. He’d caved on day four, getting home late and craving the acidic burn of pizza sauce and greasiness of mozzarella cheese. He couldn’t help himself, forgetting all about the silly bet he’d made.

He remembered in the morning when he came eye to eye with the Italian man on the pizza place’s logo. Aaron figured it would be easier to just come in with their prize, coffees from Penelope’s favorite local place, and accept defeat than have to confront each of them.

So, he picks up his tray with a sigh and continues his way to his car, hoping to get to the BAU as soon as possible.

However, this would prove difficult. Aaron is shocked to see a big SUV blocking him in, and a lady jumping out of it. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” She yelled into the open door, slamming it at the end of her sentence. Aaron could see the passenger side window roll down. He heard a man’s voice this time, with a much darker, violent tone, “YOU SHOULD’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE YOU GOT IN THE CAR, BITCH!”

The law enforcement officer in Aaron kicked in when he heard the foul names being thrown towards this lady. She was gearing up to retaliate, but he stepped in front of her. Aaron used his free hand to quickly pull out his badge. It was a bit clumsily, due to the weight of the coffees in his other hand.

Once he was standing protectively in front of the lady and had his badge on full display, Aaron spoke, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave before you cause a further public disturbance.” His voice was low, the same way he talked to suspect. “Oh, fuck you.” The man said one last time, making eye contact with the lady, before pulling off.

“Are you okay?” Aaron turned around to face the lady. “Yeah, the guy’s just an asshole. Fucking offers me a ride and thinks that means he’s getting laid?” You’re rambling at this point, aggravated at the entire situation. “Where are you trying to go?” His entire plan of getting to work quickly went out the window when he saw how beautiful your eyes were.

“I work at the office around the block. I usually drive but someone hit my car yesterday and it’s in the shop today,” Aaron was growing more and more concerned with your wellbeing as you spoke, “I’m just gonna walk. Thanks for taking care of that asshole, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to see him later.”

Aaron knows he should probably walk away, but he can’t stop himself from asking, “See him later?” You nod, “He’s my fucking neighbor. Sorry, I don’t usually cuss this much, he just really pissed me off.” Aaron laughs at this, seeing as the first thing he heard you say was “fucking asshole”.

“You’re sure you don’t need a ride?” He asks one more time. “No, I could probably use the walk to cool off some. Thank you,” Your voice trailed off, not knowing what to call him. He stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Aaron.” He filled in the blank for you.

You told him your name, shook his hand, and bid him goodbye. You made it maybe six steps before you turned back around, “Aaron!” You hollered, walking quickly to catch up to him. “I know this is bold and I don’t even know if you’re single, but you were very kind and I think you’re very good looking. Could I get your number maybe?”

Aaron meets you with a laugh. You’re wary, not knowing that a laugh from Aaron was extremely rare, and something a lot of people would kill to hear. Your nerves are eased when he says, “I’d love to give you my number.”

Day 16

The night was going wonderfully. Aaron was proving that chivalry was, in fact, not dead. Just lost in older men. He was comfortable meeting you at the restaurant, he pulled out your chair for you, ordered a bottle of the fancy wine the restaurant carried, and was currently sliding his credit card into the check holder.

The conversation between you two flowed beautifully all night, making it seem like time flew by. He signed the bottom of the receipt, leaving a very generous cash tip, and turned his attention towards you. “Ready to go?” Aaron asked, not wanting to rush you away. You gave him a shy nod, trying to figure out a way to say you want to see him again soon without sounding obsessed.

Aaron stood and you followed, interlocking your arm with his. You two walked out of the restaurant, only letting each other go when he held the door for you. “Which one’s yours?” He asked, wanting to walk you to your car. You held out the key, clicking the lock button to get it to light up.

Aaron walked you over, opening the driver’s side door for you. “Look at her!” You squealed, excited for him to see your car, “Fresh out of the shop!” Aaron laughed at your excitement. Once you were comfortable in your seat and buckled up, Aaron went to speak again.

“I had fun,” He smiled at you. “I did, too.” You replied. “Would you like to do it again, sometime?” He asked, fumbling over his word a bit. You couldn’t help but find the way you made him nervous adorable.

“I would love to, whenever you’re free.” He’d told you about how hectic his work life could get, which you understood. “I’ll call you.” He promised, getting ready to close the door. “Goodnight, Aaron.” He gave you once last smile, repeated your sentiment, and closed the door for you.

Day 102

“Why’d you pick him?” Aaron’s son, Jack asked. “Jack!” Aaron laughed, loading up spaghetti noodles on his plate.

It’s your first time meeting Jack. You were both scared and excited, not knowing how he would react to Aaron bringing home a new girlfriend. “He protected me the first time I met him, I felt like I owed him.” You joked as Aaron passed you the pasta. You smiled when Jack let out a loud laugh.

Dinner continued like this, with teasing and laughter. You felt incredibly welcomed in the Hotchner household, loving the energy both of the boys created. You fit like a missing puzzle piece, being able to help Jack team up on his dad, and be there when Aaron was feigning sadness at one his jokes. Plus, both of them were happy to have a home cooked meal for the first time in about a week. Jack even said you could come over whenever you wanted, as long as you cooked.

“I think he likes you,” Aaron said as he climbed into bed next to you, later that night. “I think so, too. We laughed a lot.” Aaron nodded, moving over to press a kiss to the side of your head.

“Welcome to the family,” He muttered as he wiggled down into the blankets, falling asleep quickly.

Day 1534

“I do.” You said as you slid the ring onto Aaron’s finger, missing the first time due the tears welling up in your eyes.

Everyone seated for the ceremony cheered as the pastor said, “You may kiss the bride!” Aaron pulled you in by your waist, pressing himself as close as possible to you. The kiss was appropriate, considering there was a crowd watching, but full of love.

After you pulled away, you moved yourself behind Aaron, pulling his best man in for a big hug. Jack smiled against your neck, squeezing you tight. You grabbed one his hands, and one of Aaron, walking back down the aisle with both of them by your side.

“Mr., Mr., and Mrs. Hotchner,” Jessica smiled, introducing you three to the reception. You were ready to dance and celebrate with the people you loved most in the world. And you were so excited to share their last name.

Day 12152

You had always hoped it would be you to pass first. Something easy for Aaron, Jack, and his children to handle. Passing away in your sleep, peacefully and free of pain.

But, wishes are rarely granted. You were sat next to Aaron when he passed. As hard as his battle with illness had been, he fought as best he could. You knew he’d spent his whole life fighting, so you, as sad as you were, you relieved to know he was somewhere safe and relaxing. Somewhere where there was no fight to be had.

He would be surrounded by people he loved, more than he had around him in his old age now.

Jack held you tight at the funeral, knowing you were heartbroken. Part of him was relieved too. His father was no longer in pain. When he knelt at his dad’s casket, he made one last promise to look over you. To take care of you, to love you, and to protect you, just as Aaron had done since the day he met you.

You weren’t too worried about it, though. You knew you’d join him when the time was right, and he would be waiting for you. You two were meant to be, even if you’d met late in life. No matter how long it took, or where you guys were, you and Aaron would find each other.

[thatfrailsoul]

– Autumn's fallen leaves

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, )

"The princess out of school", Edward Robert Hughes

Each year, time and time again as their leaves fall, the trees show us their courage. Their incredible strength to let go of a part of them that no longer serves them. Even if it took them so long to nourish them and grow... They let go of everything, accepting and embracing this needed end. Gifting themselves a chance for a new beginning, full of growth and better health.

They are preparing now to do it once again. And as life and its cycles guides them... It tries to guide us too this time. It tries to help you... to let go of something. Something that is only weighting on your tired shoulders, slowing you down.

Take a deep breath, give yourself a needed moment of reflection and rest. Wander through this painting, through its details... Which one caughts more your gaze? To which part of the painting it belongs to? Pay attention - it is showing you where your message hides and awaits.

_

_

These days have been... a little harsh on me. It was difficult to bring myself to fight it and endure it, even though I so desperately wanted to make it through. So this reading, these messages, speak right to my heart. Giving me a needed reminder and moment of reflection. And I hope it will help you too..♡

I had this reading in mind for a little while, but wasn't quite sure. At least until I've received a request from the kindest soul exactly about these same thoughts and concerns. It was the needed (gentle) push for me to do it, so I deeply thank the one who requested this reading.♡

_

– Pile One,

the queen of swords, the emperor, the four of wands

There is so much control, so much presence within you, in the way you choose your life... But in that strength and power, if looked at closely, one can see the shades of fear, of desperate need...

Every little detail was already planned, analysed. Every outcome is expected, good or bad. Every path is already prepared so it can change its course in case of an obstacle or its end... Everything already leads to that one specific goal and outcome. The one that you imagined, perfectly pictured, for so long in your life... That it just can't be otherwise, it just can't pass you by. Not this one.

You are giving constantly to this so much work and intention, so much of your mind and heart, that even the slightest deviation feels like the whole world, your whole life, falling down.

You don't know what else you can do, how else you can make it more secure and successful, more perfect in your eyes... Or perhaps in the eyes of others... And it is consuming you, the pure stress and fear of just a thought that things might not work out.

It is all changing, shifting, day after day, in every area of your life. It is all evolving, and not really in a direction and way that you would've choose, in those that you would feel comfortable to be and live... And the only remaining thing, project and situation that is so important and indeed so powerful to give you back that control on your life, helping you to regain your balance back... Is becoming strange. Sometimes too slow, sometimes too sudden. Sometimes too stagnant or too confusing and dark. It is slowly but surely using all your back up plans, without slowing down, without showing you its horizon and its end... Making you afraid of the moment in which you won't simply have any other idea, opportunity or choice... While the path will continue to evolve, leaving you behind with that little that remains of yourself after all these sacrifices...

But is it really changing so much, this path? Is it really being ruined by everything you try? Or were you the one that made so many deviations trying to avoid all the obstacles and catastrophies that you thought you saw and needed to don't let closer to yourself?

Because there is an incredible power within you. Power of will, of hope, of patience and courage when it comes to protect yourself and your desires and dreams. A power strong enough to clear out a path as you will walk through it. But also... Enough to destroy it, if only you convinced yourself enough of it.

And this is something unique, not at all so easy to find in us, not so easy to learn and use. And when we, desperate and afraid, find this power within us... We tend to use it to protect ourselves from the obstacles and opponents of the outside, instead of using it against the thoughts and feelings inside our heart and head... that have much more power over our journey, its ups and downs, and sometimes their end.

This is indeed for you - this goal, this dream, this journey. It's not only you who wants this outcome, but that goal wants you too, that desire wants to be yours.

It is the right path, you are on the right path. It is the safe one for you, even if so many times you expected the worse and tried to flee.

There weren't any problems impossible to resolve, or obstacles too heavy to remove. There was only you who made a "mistake" of thinking that you never could be able to face those things or do them. There was only you who had so much passion and desire, conviction that it is for you, fused with that fear and uncertainty still present within you. There was just this mix of certainty and, ironically, confusion. The inner knowledge of what you want but confusion on how to get there, if you even could.

There was just this strong, incredibly powerful, courageous heart and mind. That, confused exactly like you, tried their best. Focusing more on avoiding and finding new routes. And not on showing you, teaching you, how you could've make it work regardless, following your original plan and decision, without sacrifices and changes that you felt forced to make.

Now it is already done. And it's just fine the way it is. It's not worse nor better. It wasn't the wrong way. It was just different. You tried and you felt it. You felt deep down in you that the way you chose again and again, perhaps was not quite the easiest one...

But now, today, in this moment, you have once again the possibility to choose how to do it. You have a chance to stay, to not run away. And to try to do your thing, how it feels right for you, and not how it seems more safe.

This journey is safe and right one for you, for who you want to become, regardless. So start to go through it with the same way that desired you would. Use your knowledge, your confidence, your power of choice. Not to avoid things, to escape and hide in hopes of finding another opportunity somewhere somehow... But to stay tall and strong and, gently, fight it. Showing this world, those people, this environment and to your own self, that things can and do work differently sometimes.

Showing and reminding all of you that it is not always the journey that changes us, but sometimes we are the ones to simply remember how much it means for us, without holding back. Without giving up.

P.s. Let me know if you chose this message and how it felt to you, if it resonated at all..♡

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Two,

the four of cups, the queen of swords, the empress

It is quite easy to find, to constantly notice, all the things that are not working out no matter how hard you try. It is quite easy to remember all the things that you pictured, all the things that you so ardently wanted... and that never really manifested in your life.

It is easy to focus on them because it's so hard to ignore them. To ignore that pain, pressure, frustration that you feel in each moment of your life... when all you ever wanted was to just be safe, living a good and peaceful life.

So no one can tell you to don't do it. No one can have a say on how you should feel as you go through so many problems and challenges in your life now. But... Your heart and mind can and will still do it.

They will show their tiredness and sadness through the emptiness that you feel in your chest. Through the fog that is overwhelming your mind and making your thoughts so difficult to follow or find. They will show it to you, they will speak to you in the only way they can: a tired body, that doesn't have anymore the needed strength. The needed health.

And you know it. You already see it in the way you react less and less to this life. At least on the outside... Because you are still human, it still hurts, you still feel so many emotions that explode bottled up in your heart.

You are becoming calmer, in the eyes of others, but you are slowly destroying yourself from the inside. The only place were you used to feel and be safe, and that now is not anymore able to hide you from the reality of your life.

It is difficult, impossible, to ignore all of this... And you don't need to do it. But in the same way you shouldn't ignore those little, tiny, good things that are still present in your days either.

It might seem so useless, to try to focus on them, holding onto them so desperately when they are so few... But they are enough for your heart and mind that just need to know that there is light and warmth too. It is so little, but it is exactly what you need to find that strength again. To find that hope and simple knowledge that things can indeed be different. That it will not always be this way. That this is not the end...

Or perhaps it is. An end of this long and troubled phase of your life. An end of this tiring fear. Perhaps it is finally the moment of change. A shift that will start first within you. In that mind that will realise a one little but important thing: you don't need to choose between seeing life all in black or white, you can see it and feel it as it is. Complicated, different, strange... Just real.

A life that needs and gives importance to both things. A life that doesn't ignore. Exactly like you shouldn't. Not the bad things, that you just need to feel in order to be able to remember, overcome them and in the future avoid... And not with the good ones, that even if little, are still a demonstration of how things can and will be different. How they can and will transform.

You gave a lot of yourself to all your problems, challenges, obstacles on your path... But you gave so little credit to your strength, your patience, your own existence and everything that transformed you in the incredible soul that you are now.

A soul that perhaps, indeed, can't be the one to resolve it all... But that can still make it through.

Just don't ignore it. Don't ignore those good parts of your life or you that are still here, that are still relevant, that are still deserving of the same acknowledgment, attention and trust as the ones that you give to those negative and challenging parts of your life.

P.s. Let me know if you chose this message and how it felt to you, if it resonated at all..♡

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) you can find out more about it here!♡

_

_

[happypeaceperson]

It's just a crush

Ethan landry x male reader

Slight sexual refrences and actions but nothing too in depth, a lot of making out tho ;) !!

No scenes related to the movie so no worries about spoilers!

You're still a virgin?" Quinn asked Ethan as he finished making the popcorn.

"Can you shut the fuck up, please" Ethan said, clearly offended by the question. He places the popcorn bowl onto the table.

Quinn lets out a laugh "Have you even made your move on him yet?" She reaches forward, placing her phone down beside the popcorn before taking a handful.

"No. Ok. I haven't, not everyone is as carefree as you." Ethan sits next to her placing a hand over his face.

"Well, tonight could be the night, if you grow a pear." Before Ethan could deny what she stated, he heard the door open.

"we're back!!" Ethan shot his head over towards the voice. It was Y/N. Anika walked in before him.

"Here's the snacks." She throws the snacks onto the table before sitting next to Quinn. Ethan knew she did that on purpose, so the only seat left would be beside him.

"And the alcohol" Y/N said, shaking the cans as he entered. Placing them on the table before sitting down. Ethan felt their legs brush. He felt a blush grow across his face. He started praying that no one noticed.

Thankfully Quinn started the movie before anyone could. Ethan thought the movie was boring, almost falling asleep,but its helped as a distraction from the man beside him. When the movie ended he saw Anika and Quinn get up together, whispering something. He worried he knew what they were planning

He looked over at Y/N, his head resting on his hand. He looked cute sleeping. Y/N awoke with the sound of shuffling behind him.

"Hey me and Quinn are wrecked, i think we're gonna call it a night." Anika announces, giving a mischievous smile to Ethan. He knew it. They both say bye to the boys before walking out.

"God I'm wrecked too" Y/N said looking over lazily at Ethan. Y/N noticed a red hint on Ethan's face, he began to worry if Ethan felt sick. "Are you feeling ok?" He got up to place a hand on Ethan's head.

"Yeah, Yeah i'm fine, just a little warm" Ethan replies slightly moving away from the cute guy's hand that was resting on his forehead. He felt Y/N's hand resting on his shoulder. The blood rushed all over his body. His heart was pounding. He looked over at Y/N, into his soft eye's. Fuck, he was not about to get a hard on over his friend's worries about his health.

"Dude, are you sure? You look like a tomato" Y/N leaned to the side to get a better look at Ethans face. Ethan began to panic. Y/N's hand landed onto his thigh, worsening his already difficult situation. He was not about to embarrass himself right now. Ethan got up, quickly excusing himself to the bathroom.

Y/N grabbed his arm. "Ethan, what's going on?" He pulled Ethan back onto the couch, their faces inches from each other. Y/N looked directly into Ethan's eyes, confusion plastered all over his face. Ethan didn't know what took over him in this moment but he just leaned in, kissing Y/N. He pulled back instantly,shocked from what he had just done. Before he could apologise he felt lips meet with his again. Y/N's hand reached up to brush against Ethans cheek. Ethan felt the tightening sensation in his pants grow. Fuck. He was really making out with his best friend.

Ethan took dominance, pushing Y/N down into the couch, climbing on top of him. The apartment was filled with the breathless moans of the two men, their hands roaming over each other's bodies. Their lips crashed together, barely giving the other enough time to catch their breath. Ethans hand runs up the back of Y/N's thigh, causing him to groan. Ethan began to pull at Y/N's shirt, practically begging to allow him to remove it. Ethan felt like he was rushing this, like he was going too fast, but Y/N wasn't complaining so he must have been doing something right. Y/N lifted his arms, allowing Ethan to remove the shirt. Ethan removed the shirt as fast as he could, throwing it down on the ground beside them.

Ethan looked down at the boy's body that lay underneath him, fuck he was beautiful. "Are you gonna stare or can we continue?" Y/N asked with a sarcastic voice. Ethan laughed at this, before meeting his lips with Y/N's again. Ethan remembered what he saw in those videos he watched, at least he could put them to good use now. He removed his lips and went to start kissing Y/N's neck, sucking at it, listening to the groans of pleasure being released from him. He began to move downwards, kissing over Y/N's body, going down past his chest to his stomach, kissing every piece of skin he could on his way down. Y/N's hand traced over Ethans back. He reached the waistband of Y/N's pants. He grabbed at it looking up at him. Y/N groaned in agreement. Ethan smiled as he began to unbutton the barrier to what he desired most.

Before he could finish the unbuttoning process he heard the door open. His heart dropped as his eyes met with Quinns. Y/N slightly turned his head. "Oh hey Quinn" He said, removing his hand from Ethan's back and waving at her.

"Omg did I just- Fuck I'm sorry" Quinn covered her eyes.

Ethan got off of Y/N, quickly passing his shirt back to him. "What do you want?" Ethan asked, clearly getting annoyed.

Quinn removed her hand from her face before pointing to the table. "I um… I forgot my phone" She walked over, grabbing it quickly before heading back towards the door. "Have fun you two!" she shouted before running out.

"Fuck I'm sorry about her" Ethan said sitting back down. Y/N finished putting his shirt back on.

He laughed, Ethan looking over at him. "Well as I said, I'm wrecked." Y/N dragged himself off the couch, turning around to look at Ethan. "Maybe we could finish this another day?"

Ethan smiled "Sounds like a plan" He watched as Y/N walked towards the door, hearing him call out a goodbye before it slammed shut. Ethan laid back down on the couch, placing his hands over his face. A smile plastered over it