#sometimes that thing wrong with them is deep setted anger

[pucksandpower]

A Little Arson as a Treat

Logan Sargeant x protective!Reader

Summary: after news that Williams has dropped Logan mid-way through the season comes out, you decide that revenge is best served hot

Warnings: they literally set James Vowles’ house on fire

“You think they’ll be able to tell it was us?”

Logan’s voice is shaky, his eyes locked on the flickering flames dancing up the side of James Vowles’ house. The orange glow reflects in his wide eyes, making him look like a boy who just realized he’s in way over his head. His hands are buried deep in his jacket pockets, and you can see the nervous twitch of his fingers beneath the fabric.

You snort, not taking your eyes off the fire. “No way. They’ll think it was an electrical fault or something. We were careful.”

“We weren’t that careful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, biting his lip. “This is ... this is insane.”

“Maybe,” you admit, leaning a little closer to him, feeling the coolness of the night brushing against your skin in contrast to the heat radiating from the fire. “But what were we supposed to do? Just sit back and let them throw you out? Nine races left, and they think they can just-”

Logan cuts you off, his voice tight with emotion. “It’s not just the races. It’s everything. It’s like ... they’re saying I’m not good enough, that I never was.”

You turn to face him, your heart squeezing in your chest. He’s not looking at you, his eyes fixed on the fire like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “Logan, that’s bullshit, and you know it. You are good enough. They’re just too blind to see it.”

“Am I, though?” He finally meets your gaze, and you can see the doubt etched into every line of his face. “I mean, if I was, they wouldn’t be dropping me, right?”

You sigh, frustration bubbling up inside you. “This isn’t about your talent. This is about politics, money, and a bunch of old men who can’t see past their spreadsheets. You know that.”

He’s silent for a moment, just watching the flames as they start to consume the upper floor. “So, we burn down his house?”

You shrug, a small, defiant smile playing on your lips. “Sometimes you’ve got to make a statement.”

Logan shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. “You’re insane.”

“You love me for it.”

His eyes soften, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Yeah. I do.”

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. His fingers are cold, trembling slightly as they curl around yours. “We’re gonna get through this, okay? You’re not done. Not even close.”

“Tell that to the team that just replaced me with a kid from F2,” he mutters, but there’s less bite in his words now, more weariness than anger.

“They’ll regret it,” you say firmly. “They’ll be watching from the back of the grid while you’re out there somewhere proving them wrong.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him.

“You will.”

He looks at you like he’s trying to absorb your confidence, to borrow just a little of the fire that keeps you burning so brightly. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” you say simply, squeezing his hand. “And I know that you’re going to fight like hell to get back on the track. And when you do, they’ll all see what they lost.”

Logan takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Only because I’m right.”

He laughs again, a real laugh this time, and it warms you more than the fire ever could. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable enough to commit a little arson as a treat?” You tease, nudging him lightly.

His smile fades a little, and he looks back at the house, the flames now licking at the roof. “You really think we’re going to get away with this?”

You tilt your head, considering. “Even if we don’t, what are they going to do? Kick you off the team you’re already off of? We’ve got nothing to lose.”

“I’ve got you to lose,” he says softly, his grip on your hand tightening.

Your heart skips a beat, and you swallow hard. “You won’t lose me. Ever.”

He turns to you fully now, the fire forgotten, his eyes searching yours. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

For a moment, the world shrinks down to just the two of you, standing together in the night, hands clasped, hearts beating in time. The fire is a distant roar in the background, a symbol of the chaos that’s been following you both for weeks, but it’s nothing compared to the storm inside Logan, the one you’re trying so hard to calm.

“So,” he says, his voice a little lighter, “what’s the plan? We just walk away?”

“Pretty much,” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

He hesitates, glancing back at the house one last time. “No ... I guess that’s all we can do.”

“Good. Because I’m starving, and I’m thinking burgers.”

Logan blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Burgers? We just committed a felony, and you want to go get burgers?”

“Don’t you?”

He stares at you, then shakes his head with a disbelieving grin. “You’re insane.”

“I’m hungry. Big difference.”

Logan chuckles, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he lets out a long breath. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, squeezing your hand again. “I really do.”

You smile, pulling him away from the sight of the burning house, guiding him down the street like it’s just any other night and you’re just two people out for a walk. “Come on, there’s a place a few blocks over that makes the best burgers.”

Logan falls into step beside you, the smell of smoke fading as you put more distance between yourselves and the scene of the crime. “I’m still on a diet plan, you know. Think they’ll have something that fits?”

“Probably not,” you admit with a grin. “But I’m sure we can figure it out.”

He laughs again, a sound that makes your heart swell. “You’re seriously insane.”

“Maybe. But you love me for it.”

He shakes his head, his smile softening into something more tender. “Yeah. I do.”

As you walk together, hand in hand, you can feel the weight lifting off Logan’s shoulders. It’s not gone entirely — it won’t be, not for a long time — but for now, in this moment, it’s lighter. And that’s enough.

“So, what do we do after the burgers?” He asks, his voice casual but laced with something deeper, something that says he’s already thinking about the future, about what comes next.

“After the burgers,” you repeat, pretending to think it over. “We find a way to get you back on that track.”

Logan glances at you, surprised. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

“Never,” you say firmly. “This is just the beginning. We’re going to prove them wrong.”

He’s silent for a moment, then nods. “Okay. What’s the plan?”

“First, we get you back in a car. Then, we show them what they’re missing.”

“And how do we do that?”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “One step at a time. We’ll figure it out.”

He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize this moment, to hold onto it for as long as he can. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be stupid. You deserve everything.”

He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in it, like he’s not quite sure he believes you. “I just ... I don’t want to let you down.”

“You won’t,” you say, your voice soft but certain. “You never have.”

Logan doesn’t respond, just pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk. The night is quiet now, the fire just a faint glow in the distance, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s a sense of peace between you.

“Burgers sound good,” he says after a while, his voice warm and content.

“Yeah?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Yeah. And then maybe we can figure out that plan of yours.”

You grin. “Deal.”

As you walk, the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, together against the odds, against the world. And in that moment, you know that no matter what happens next, you’ll face it together.

The fire is behind you, but the real battle is just beginning. And as long as you have each other, you know you can win.

[d-targaryenshoe]

A Petal For Love - Anthony Bridgerton

Word Count: 1600

Summary: When one has their passions, would they just let them go to waste for love?

Anthony Bridgerton stood in the doorway of your quaint flower shop, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the vibrant array of blooms.

The scent of roses, lilies, and orchids filled the air, creating a fragrant symphony that clashed with the tension in his chest.

He watched as you moved gracefully among the flowers, your hands deftly arranging a bouquet, your hair cascading over your shoulders like a waterfall of silk.

“Anthony,” you said, your voice warm and musical as you glanced up and saw him standing there. “What a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

Anthony stepped forward, his polished boots clicking on the wooden floor. “I needed to see you,” he said, his voice lower than usual. “We need to talk, y/n.”

Your smile faltered, and you set down the bouquet you were working on. “Talk? That sounds serious. Is something wrong?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he had been dreading. “Y/n, there’s something we need to discuss about the shop.”

Your eyes widened, and you crossed your arms over your chest, a defensive gesture he had come to recognize. “What about the shop?”

Anthony hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been thinking about our future, about what it means for us to be married. And I’ve realized that things will need to change.”

Your brow furrowed. “Change? What are you talking about?”

Anthony sighed, stepping closer and taking your hands in his. “I want you to close the shop, y/n. Like Mondrich had to do.”

Your reaction was immediate.

You pulled your hands away, a look of shock and disbelief on your face. “Close the shop? Anthony, you can’t be serious. This shop is my life. It’s everything to me.”

“I understand that,” he said, trying to remain calm. “But our lives are different now. We have responsibilities, and appearances to maintain. It’s not proper for the wife of Viscount Bridgerton to be running a flower shop.”

Your eyes flashed with anger. “Proper? Anthony, this shop is not just a hobby for me. It’s my passion, my livelihood. I’ve worked hard to build this business from the ground up. I can’t just abandon it because of some outdated notion of propriety.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened. He had known this would be difficult, but he hadn’t anticipated just how deeply you would be hurt by his request.

“I’m not saying you should abandon your passion. But there are other ways you can pursue it. We can have a garden at our home, or you can arrange flowers for society events.”

“It’s not the same,” you said, your voice trembling. “This shop is more than just flowers. It’s my independence, my sense of purpose. You can’t ask me to give that up.”

“I’m not asking,” Anthony said, his tone firmer now. “I’m telling you that this is how it has to be. We have to think about our future, our family.”

You took a step back, your eyes filling with tears. “I thought you loved me for who I am, not for who you want me to be.”

“I do love you,” Anthony said, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. “I love you more than anything. But sometimes love means making sacrifices for the greater good.”

“For the greater good?” you repeated, your voice incredulous. “Or for your good? Because it sounds to me like you’re asking me to sacrifice everything I care about for your image, for your status.”

“That’s not fair,” Anthony said, his frustration mounting. “You know how much I’ve sacrificed for this family, how much pressure I’m under. I need you to understand that this is what’s best for both of us.”

You shook your head, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. “I can’t do it, Anthony. I can’t give up the shop. It’s a part of me, just like you are. And if you truly love me, you’ll accept that.”

Anthony felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. He had always prided himself on his ability to solve problems, to take control of any situation.

But this was different. This was you, the woman he loved, and he couldn’t bear to see you so unhappy.

“Y/n,” he said softly, reaching out to you again. “Please, just think about it. We can find a way to make this work, together.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. “I have thought about it, Anthony. And my answer is no. I won’t close the shop. I can’t.”

Anthony stared at you, realizing that he had underestimated your strength, your resolve. He had expected you to acquiesce, to trust his judgment.

But you were not a woman who could be easily swayed.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice heavy with resignation. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. I just hope you know what this means for us.”

Your expression softened, and you took his hand in yours. "It means that we'll have to find a way to make this work, Anthony. Just like we always do. Because I love you, and I believe in us."

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the scent of flowers enveloped you. "I love you too. More than you'll ever know. And I'll do my best to support you, no matter what."

You stood there in the middle of the shop, surrounded by the vibrant blooms that you had so carefully nurtured.

It was a place of beauty and life, just like you. And in that moment, Anthony realized that he couldn't take that away from you, no matter how much he wanted to protect you.

Days turned into weeks, and Anthony found himself grappling with the complexities of his new life as a husband.

He adored you, but the expectations of his family and society weighed heavily on him.

Every time he attended a social function or met with his peers, he felt the unspoken judgment, the questioning glances.

Why was his wife still running a flower shop? Why hadn't he put an end to it?

One evening, as you sat together in the drawing room of Bridgerton House, Anthony broached the subject again, though with more caution this time.

"Y/n, have you considered what we talked about?" he asked, his tone gentle.

You looked up from the book you were reading, your eyes steady. "Anthony, I told you my answer. The shop is important to me. It's not something I can just walk away from."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, but the pressure is increasing. My family, our friends... they all expect us to conform to certain standards."

"Standards that hide who we are?" you countered. "Anthony, I understand the pressures you face, but I also need you to understand mine. This shop gives me a sense of fulfillment, of independence."

Anthony nodded slowly, struggling to find the right words. "I don't want to lose you. But I also don't want to see you hurt by the harsh judgments of society."

You reached across the table and took his hand. "Then let them judge. We can't live our lives according to other people's expectations. We have to find our path."

The following morning, Anthony decided to take a different approach.

He visited the flower shop, determined to understand your world better.

As he entered, he was greeted by the familiar scent of flowers and the sight of you bustling about, your face glowing with happiness as you tended to your creations.

"Anthony," you said, smiling warmly. "What brings you here so early?"

"I wanted to see what you do here, to understand why it's so important to you," he replied, his tone sincere.

Your eyes softened. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

You spent the next few hours showing him the various aspects of the business.

You arranged bouquets together, assisted customers, and even dealt with suppliers.

Anthony watched as you interacted with everyone with kindness and professionalism, your passion evident in every task you performed.

As the day drew to a close, Anthony felt a newfound appreciation for your work. He saw how much joy it brought you and how much it meant to the community.

The flower shop was not just a business; it was a haven of beauty and warmth, a place where people came to find solace and happiness.

Later that evening, as you sat together in your cozy sitting room, Anthony broached the subject once more, but this time with a different perspective.

"I-," he began, "I spent the day at the shop, and I saw how much it means to you and to everyone who visits. I understand now why you can't give it up."

You looked at him, your eyes shining with gratitude. "That means the world to me."

"But," he continued, "we still need to find a balance. We can't ignore the pressures we face as a couple in society. There must be a way to reconcile our responsibilities with your passion."

You nodded thoughtfully. "I agree. Perhaps we can find a way to manage both. I could reduce my hours at the shop, delegate more duties to my workers, and be more present at social functions."

Anthony smiled, relief flooding through him. "I think that could work. We need to support each other, to stand together in the face of whatever challenges come our way."

You leaned in, kissing him softly. "Thank you for understanding. I love you."

"I love you too. More than anything."

[elizabethsnuts]

What about Jemily missing their daughters first soccer game bc they are called away on a case. They have never missed one before and they all have to navigate the outcomes of not only the game, but the feelings of them missing it it from both parent and daughter perspective.

Missed Game

Jemily x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Emily and JJ were helping you get ready for your very first soccer game, though they called out on a case at the last minute.

A/N: I like to think that Elle stayed in touch with JJ and was able to meet Emily. Live Laugh Love Auntie Elle 💗

———

It was the early morning, sunlight filtering softly through the curtains of the windows, casting a warm glow over the interior. It was your first soccer game and the excitement was through the roof. Emily and JJ were busy preparing for the day, ensuring everything was perfect for your big game.

In the living room, you were already dressed in your tiny soccer uniform, your face a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Your hair was done up neatly and out of your face, and your eyes were sparkling with excitement. You were kicking a small soccer ball around, your little legs moving with surprising agility for a five-year-old.

"Mummy! Mama! Are you ready yet?" You called out, your voice echoing with enthusiasm.

Emily emerged from the bedroom, holding a camera. "Almost, sweetheart. Just making sure the camera is working!"

JJ followed, carrying a small cooler filled with cut-up oranges. "I’ve got the cooler. We’re all set!"

Just as they were about to leave, Emily’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and her face fell slightly. It was work. She answered, exchanging a few terse words before hanging up.

“What’s wrong?” JJ asked, noticing Emily’s expression.

“We’ve got a case,” Emily replied, her voice tinged with frustration. “They need us in immediately.”

JJ’s face mirrored Emily’s disappointment. “Today of all days,” she muttered, glancing over at you, still happily kicking your ball around, unaware of the news.

Emily took a deep breath. “We’ll explain it to her together.”

They walked over to you, and you stopped playing to look up at them expectantly. “Is it time to go?” you asked, eyes shining with excitement.

JJ knelt down to your level. “Sweetie, Mama and I have to go to work. There’s an important case we need to take care of.”

Your face fell instantly, your little heart shattering with every word they spoke. “But… my game…”

Emily joined the two of you on the floor, taking your small hands in hers. “We’re so sorry, Y/N. We really wanted to be there, but sometimes our job makes it hard. We promise we’ll make it up to you. Trust me when I say we’d drop everything and come to your game if we could… but we can’t, honey..”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “But you’ve never missed my practice. Not once. And today’s my first game. You promised you’d be there!”

The pain in your voice cut deeply. JJ wrapped you in a tight hug. “I know, baby. We’re so sorry. We love you so much, and we’re so proud of you. We’ll ask Auntie Elle to record the game for us, okay?”

You pulled away, your little face red with anger and sadness. “I don’t care about a video! I wanted you there! I don’t want you to go!”

Emily and JJ exchanged a helpless look. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, okay? And we’ll have a big celebration when we get home,” Emily promised, but the words felt hollow even to her.

You turned away from them, your small shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Emily’s heart broke seeing you like this, but there was nothing they could do. Duty called, and they had to go.

Elle arrived shortly after to take you to the game. She tried to cheer you up on the way, but you remained withdrawn, your disappointment evident.

———

Emily and JJ threw themselves into the case, but their thoughts frequently drifted back to you. Images of you being upset and angry just before they left flashed through their minds, the last thing they wanted to do was hurt you but they needed to be there for the case.

———

It was late at night when the case was finally wrapped up, Emily and JJ rushed home, their hearts heavy with a mixture of relief and apprehension. They knew they had to face your disappointment and try to make amends with you.

When they walked in the door, you were sitting on the couch, clutching a small trophy. Elle was in the kitchen clearing up dinner.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ said softly, sitting down next to you. “We heard you played really well.”

You didn’t look up, you were understandably angry. “It doesn’t even matter. You and Mama weren’t there. Everyone else’s mommies were there but you weren’t!”

Emily sat on your other side, her heart aching. “We’re so sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t want to miss it, people needed us, honey. But we’re so proud of you.”

You finally looked up, tears brimming in your eyes, your frown had noticeably deepened. “I needed you too! I wanted you there. It was my first game. It was important and you weren’t there!”

JJ pulled you into a tight hug. “We know, and we’re so sorry we missed it. We love you so much, Gigi. More than anything. We know that saying sorry won’t make it up to you but we really are sorry.”

Emily gently rubbed your back in slow circles. “We’re going to make it up to you, okay? We promise we’ll try and be at every game and if we can’t we’ll get Auntie Elle to record it or FaceTime us, alright?”

You sniffled, your small arms wrapping around both your mums. “Promise?”

“Promise,” they both said in unison, sealing it with a kiss on your forehead.

The rest of the evening was spent showering you with love and attention. All three of you watched the videos of your game, cheering at every goal you scored.

You giggled as the recording picked up Elle behind the camera muttering to herself about the coach and the other mums around. “Auntie Elle isn’t happy!”

JJ nodded and chuckled, whispering to Emily. “Well, I don’t blame her…” It was true, some of those soccer mums were really obnoxious.

Though the day had started negatively, having your mums back at home with you while you watched your game did cheer you up a bit. You knew they’d try their best to be to every game in the future and that today just was an unlucky day for them to get called into work. You hoped that they’d be there for your next game, cheering you on the sidelines in real-time.

[tropes-and-tales]

You'd Be Surprised

For the super-late Winter Prompts (2023 Edition)! The master list can be found here!

This one was requested by the patient @justreblogginfics!

"From Sad Christmas prompts: #9 (being dumped before the holidays) with Beau "Cyclone" Simpson"

CW:  Light angst (talk of infidelity).

Word Count:  1841

Vice Admiral Beau Simpson is deep in thought, lost in the pile of reports and memos on his desk when a soft knock at his door draws him out of his focus.

“Come in,” he calls out, and the door opens to admit you.

TOPGUN, Beau often says, runs on its support staff—many of them civilians, like you.  Tech support, human resources, finance and accounting…it all keeps the machinery running smoothly so he and his pilots can focus on training, on missions, on testing new tech.

It’s always a balancing act, working with the civilian support corp.  There’s a level of respect, of course, but he can’t quite ask his HR representative to drop and give him a hundred push-ups if his pension paperwork is wrong.  Beau has to walk the fine line of being professional without being a drill sergeant, and sometimes he struggles.

He’s never struggled with you, though.

You’re pretty, but Beau is mostly immune to pretty women, since he’s always put his career above relationships and dating.  You’re funny, but no one would ever accuse Beau of having much of a sense of humor.

No—with you, it was your competence that caught his eye first.  You’re that rare blend of book-smart, experienced, and emotionally apt.  You have an aura of wisdom, a whole cool-and-collected schtick that seems to act on those around you.  You run your department as well as Beau runs TOPGUN, but you manage to inspire your team without the threat of calisthenics. 

You’re the sharpest person Beau has ever met, and if he’s mostly immune to pretty women, he’s an absolute goner around smart ones.  He’s been in love with you since the day he sat in one of your meetings and watched you corral a bunch of egomaniac, hot-headed career military men without breaking a sweat.

The only issue?  You’re engaged.

You’ve been engaged for as long as Beau has known you.  Engaged to a grunt in the Coast Guard, the mediocre sort of man that Beau has seen a thousand times in the military:  enlisted because of some vague, Hollywood-fed misplaced notion of bad-assery, does the bare minimum, barely managed to rise to the rank of petty officer.  For all your amazing traits, your relationship seems to be a blind spot to you, because no matter what angle Beau examines it from, he can’t for the life of him see why you bother.

He tried to draw you out, just the once.  The two of you had been holding a working dinner in his office, and the conversation had drifted into the personal over dim sum.  Beau had pointed his chopsticks in the direction of your left hand, made a mild joke about the Coast Guard not paying your fiance enough to afford a bigger diamond.

He felt like shit immediately afterwards, the way your face fell at the comment, the way you tucked your hand away on your lap and replied with something slightly defensive.  But then you added, almost to yourself, that at least you’d gotten a ring, finally, so Beau guessed that there was an entire roiling ocean beneath your calm façade.

Still, he apologized that night, then again the next day, and then again at least three more times before you had smiled at him and told him not to worry about it.

The two of you have been on firm footing ever since, like Beau’s fumbling joke never happened—and he loves that about you too, how you move past things, how you don’t hold a grudge.

But now, as you enter his office, he can immediately tell that something is off.  You look just the same, but that calming aura of yours feels off.  It’s like big spiky thorns of some emotion (Anger? Frustration?) are threaded through, and it follows you like a storm cloud as you set a sheaf of paperwork in front of him.

Beau arches his eyebrows at you, but you miss the gesture.  A beat later, he asks, “everything alright?”

“Fine, sir.”  It comes out terse, bitten-off, like you’re clenching your jaw.

“You sure?”

“Mmm-hmm.” 

Beau watches you for a beat longer, but you only stare back at him, impassive, so he turns to the paperwork.  That’s when he notices it, and he’s not sure how he didn’t notice it immediately because it’s been the proverbial stone in his craw since he fell for you.

Your left ring finger is bare.  The cheap-looking metal band, the paltry diamond—it’s missing.  There’s nothing there but the faintest line, a stripe of skin slightly paler than your usual skin tone.

You notice when he notices.  He glances up and meets your gaze, and it’s no longer impassive.  There’s an entire novel written in your expression:  pain and anger and sadness, and a hint of challenge to see how he might react or what he may say.

If you’re expecting him to make another joke in poor taste, he disappoints you.  He gestures at the chair across from him and offers for you to sit, and then he asks again, far softer, “is everything alright?”

You sit down, but you don’t answer him other than offering a faint shake of your head.

“You want to talk about it?”

Another shake of the head.  “No, sir, but thank you.”

“You sure?”

That makes you smile, even for a brief second.  “I don’t think relationship woes fall under the purview of a vice admiral.”

Beau smiles back at you.  “You’d be surprised.”

You shake your head again, but you lift your hands in a helpless gesture before they fall back into your lap.  “Nothing much to say, really.  He was cheating, and he had been for a long time.  I have no idea how I never noticed it.”

If anyone would have ever questioned the selflessness of Beau’s love for you, this would prove it to them.  At your news, he doesn’t feel relief for you to be single finally, and he doesn’t feel vindication that his bad impression of your fiancé was proven right.  He only feels a low-burning fury at the man for hurting you.  Beau, at his core, wants you to be happy…even if it isn’t with him.

But he’d love to be the one to make you happy, all the same.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, earnest.  “You didn’t deserve that.”

You shrug but don’t add more, and Beau can guess at part of your angst.  The holidays are mere weeks away, and you are an unabashed Christmas-lover.  You love nothing more than all the cliched stuff:  baking and decorating and wearing ugly sweaters and drinking spiced wine while Bing Crosby croons in the background.  It’s your time of the year, but now?  Now you’re facing it single and devastated by being cheated on.

Beau hates to see you looking so sad now, so he adds, “want me to pull some strings and get him posted somewhere terrible?”

It does the trick:  it makes you smile again.  “He loves the ocean.  Hence the Coast Guard.  Nowhere is terrible for him.”

“Atlantic Area has Station Chicago.  As far from an ocean as a guy can get in the States.”

Your smile widens.  “He does hate the Midwest.”

“Say the word and I’ll make a call.”

“How fast can you get him there?  I’d really love to see his Christmas fucked up, y’know?  Since he fucked up mine.”

It startles a laugh out of Beau.  He’s never heard you swear before, and he’s never heard you express any emotion even in the vicinity of vengeance.  Despite the circumstances, he finds he likes it.  There’s a bit of fire to you, and he never would have guessed at it before.

“Don’t let him fuck up your holiday season,” he says.  “Not to sound like some best friend in a Hallmark movie, but he’s not worth it.”

That startles a laugh out of you.  “And how do you know about the tropes of a Hallmark movie, exactly?”

“You’d be surprised.”

The smile on your face turns soft.  “I suppose I can skip the dramatic post-breakup haircut and rally for the sake of Yuletide cheer.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, and the nickname slides out of his mouth so easily that he doesn’t even notice until the words hit you.  He sees your eyes widen the barest fraction, your smile turning a fraction uncertain around the edges, but you don’t say anything so the moment passes and you turn to the business at hand.

You walk him through the preliminary budget reports you and your team pulled together.  Beau makes up for the awkward moment by asking more questions than usual, asking about certain earmarks and program details.  You answer each question with your usual cool competence, but when he chances a look at you, you have the same soft, slightly uncertain smile on your face.

You noted the nickname.  Beau knows you won’t forget it anytime soon.  A lesser man might despair at showing his cards right out of the gate, but Beau didn’t become a vice admiral by waffling about what he wants. 

He wants you.  He’s wanted you since he first started working with you.  No sense in pretending otherwise.  Coy games of cat-and-mouse are for Hallmark movies and children.  He’s a grown man, and you’re a grown woman, and he will respect your need to recover from your disappointing engagement ending, but he won’t pretend that he isn’t interested, once you’re ready.

Once the reports are reviewed, signed, and rubber-stamped, he hands them back to you.  You take them, stand up, and you start to turn towards the door, but he stops you by asking, “are you still planning on going to Warlock’s holiday party?”

That same soft smile with a hint of hesitation before you shrug, then nod.

“I thought I might skip it.  Stay home with a tub of ice cream, you know?  But maybe I’m rallying faster than I thought I would,” you tell him.

“I’m glad to hear it.  I hope you can make it.”

Another nod and you turn to leave, but when you lay your hand on the doorknob, you pause and turn back to face him.

“Thank you, sir.  I…appreciate it.”

“Beau.”  He says it softly, like if he barks it out as an order, he might scare you away.  It isn’t mandatory that you call him “sir” like you do—you’ve always just extended that level of respect—but the two of you have just shared a moment, and he’s loathed to let you feel like you’re on uneven footing.

When you’re ready, and when Beau makes his move, he wants to make sure you’re absolutely clear on this point:  you’re equals, and he’s not a vice admiral but just a man, and you’re not a member of staff but just a woman.

“You can call me Beau,” he adds, and then you do—you nod, and you say his name, and it makes that soft smile on your face bloom into something brighter.

[nokomiss]

If you are still doing a requests, could I potentially have a short fanfic drabble for Jaytim where Jason interacts with Tim during the Joker jr. situation? Or how about one a short domestic drabble for the ship where Jason and Tim live together and are baking together in their kitchen? If not, otherwise have a good day! :)

“Heard you beat me to the punch.”  Jason couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice, though he kept the anger out. Didn’t want to scare the kid off. It had taken some doing to find the kid alone – he’d had to break into the Manor, and then find the kid tucked away in the dark corner of the attic like a forgotten wife in a gothic novel. 

On his way through the Manor, he’d seen a bedroom set up for the kid; the bars on the windows weren’t iron, but he knew a safe room when he saw one. The attic must be where the kid escaped to, a private space that Jason was invading.

The kid doesn’t even look at him. Jason’s not sure that he heard him, but he’s not going to repeat himself.  The kid just sits there, staring at nothing. 

He can tell they’ve tried to fix him up, but some things can’t be fixed. 

He’s hard to look at. Jason can feel that last bright, hot moment before everything went black when he looks directly at him, a miniature version of Jason’s personal boogeyman. He tries not to let it show. He’s betting the kid’s broken more than his share of mirrors. 

He knows the kid should be sounding the alarm – Jason was a stranger in a safe place, a place that should be impenetrable, but he doesn’t react. Doesn’t do much of anything.

Jason had been like that, before the Pit. Is that what it would take to get this kid back to something approaching human? Jason pushes the thought away; what happened to this kid was something entirely different, and the Pit would likely make it worse.

He imagined that face, those laughs, combined with the liquid green madness that had clouded Jason, and knew he would never let that happen. 

“You got anything to say?” he reaches out and nudges the kid’s foot with his own. The kid hunches in on himself, cringes away, and Jason feels the sharp edges of his bitterness soften  under the sheer understanding that this kid has been shattered just as surely as he has. Had his identity blown to pieces. 

Is left scarred in ways that others can’t imagine.

Jason took a deep breath and sat down next to the kid. Tim. His name was Tim, and he wasn’t Robin, not anymore, and even though Jason doubted he felt much like a Tim – Jason hadn’t felt human enough to feel like he needed a name for a long while, after – Jason knew it was important.

He didn’t say anything, and Tim didn’t outwardly react to Jason sitting there, just continued to stare and occasionally let out a strangled little laugh.

The sound made them both flinch.

The thing was, Jason hadn’t planned on coming back to Gotham this soon. He’d had a whole plan in mind that he was fine-tuning, a way to make Bruce really understand what he’d done wrong. He wanted to make everyone pay, because sometimes the rage filled him to the point that it had to explode out somehow, and it might as well be in the direction of the people who had turned Jason into this in the first place.

But then he’d heard a rumor.

He’d heard a rumor so outlandish that he had dropped everything and came back to Gotham.

He hadn’t expected it to be true.

So here he was, trying to wrap his head around a world where the Joker was as dead as Jason always dreamed, and the fact that it was his replacement that had done it.

Not Bruce.

Not Jason.

But this broken kid who had been warped into something monstrous and then somehow managed to do what none of the rest of them had.

“You did good.”  

Finally, a real reaction out of Tim– he whipped his head around, stared at Jason with eyes that were too old and too young at the same time.  It was like looking into a fucking mirror and Jason hated it, but he couldn’t bear to look away.

“Seriously. The–” The name caught in Jason’s throat, even though he’d spit it out a thousand times before. “That bastard. You did good. He didn’t deserve…”

To live. 

Life, Jason had found, could be as much a curse as a blessing, and what Tim’s life had become wasn’t something anyone deserved. He took a shaky breath and tried to continue. Words had never escaped him like this, but words had never felt quite this important.

“Fucker deserved to be put in the ground, and if I couldn’t be the one to do it, I’m glad you did.”

There. Not the entire truth – if Bruce had just done the fucking deed back when Jason was freshly dead, then this kid wouldn’t have gone through whatever nightmare he had. Wouldn’t have the face he had. Wouldn’t hiccup tiny little giggles that made his eyes widen like he thought that the Joker was right there behind him.  

Yeah, Jason couldn’t be mad that this kid had stolen his revenge. 

Something garbled came out of Tim’s throat – a word, he thought, something that wasn’t one of those horrifying laughs – and Jason tilted his head. He’d forgone the helmet – he hadn’t known if Tim would understand the reference, but hadn’t wanted to chance it – and that left him feeling strangely vulnerable as Tim stared at him, wild, mad eyes searching Jason’s domino mask. 

He stayed quiet, waiting for Tim to repeat whatever it was. 

His second attempt at speech was more clear, though his voice was raspy. Jason knew the sound of a voice that had screamed itself hoarse, and said nothing. “You’re not mad?”

“Kid, I want to burn the fucking world down, I’m so mad,” Jason said honestly. “But not at you.”

Not now, not when he’d seen the wreckage the Joker had left behind.

A ghastly smile, then Tim said, “Thanks, Jason.”

Jason’s eyes shot open. He shouldn’t know, there was no way he could know who Jason was. No one knew, not outside of the League. There was no fucking way this shell of a Robin could clock him.

But that explained why he’d sat there, when Jason had slipped into the Manor and into his private sanctuary. It explained why he kept flinching away when he laughed. It explained why he’d hung onto Jason’s words like a lifeline.

He had somehow figured it out. He’d read up on Tim when Talia had told him about the new Robin, and even the League’s write up on him had emphasized his intelligence, and how well-suited he was to taking over Bruce’s role as a detective.

Jason took a breath in, let it out slowly. “If you ever need out of this place, let me know,” he said, in lieu of almost anything else in the fucking world, instead of all those things he’d thought he would say when he broke into the place.  “I saw that room. A fuckin’ jail.”

“Sometimes I can’t be trusted.” Jason could tell Tim wasn’t sure if he meant by Bruce or by Tim himself. 

“Join the fucking club.”  He tucked a slip of paper into Tim’s pale hand – contact info, in case he decides he needs away from all this – and then pauses. Squeezes Tim’s hand. Doesn’t say anything else, because he doesn’t have to.

Last time he left the Manor, he’d been a child, optimistic, and had thought he would be back, armed with answers and family. 

This time, he knows he will.

[bellswlw]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ it’s cold here without you 2: you set me on fire ⇨ e. williams

ellie williams x afab!reader

wc: 11k

part one | part 1.5 | masterlist

summary: after the winter dance, you and Ellie find yourselves unsure of where you stand. but after a prank gone wrong during a movie screening, the line before you bolds, and you’re ready.

cw: smut, mentions of homophobia, public humiliation, oral (e!receiving), inexperienced!reader, underage alcohol consumption (wine), mentions of artist!ellie, scissoring, multi orgasm, slapping, some fluff, mutual pining

a/n: this wasn’t supposed to be 11k…. but eat up! this is my first time writing proper wlw smut so pls, pls be nice:,) ps: i highly considering only writing jackson!ellie bc she’s just so cutsie i just love her. proofread.

There wasn’t a single thing on Ellie’s mind besides you. Besides what was going to happen tonight. And besides what she had planned, almost to perfection. almost.

She had been thinking about it all day, just a few after the two of you had your moment in the greenhouse after the winter dance. Which… was something.

Something… out of a movie, some might say. ‘Some’ just by Ellie. Secretly, she had rewinded the memories and let them play out in full from the inside walls of her own mind, afraid to mention even a speck of it outloud.

The images played on a loop inside her head, causing a grin to find its place on her face when she met you at the stables after her patrol shift and prayed that for what she was hoping would finally rise off of her notebook pages, tonight.

In the dining hall for breakfast surrounded by mostly everyone in Jackson, the four of you had contracted a plan. (Mainly Ellie, if she was being honest.)

“Oh come on, they’re just kids.” Dina said, cocking her head to the side to glare back and forth at Ellie and Jesse, silently scolding her for wanting to do something so stupid and looking to Jesse to help tell her off.

“Hey, those little shits deserve it. They totally started it.” Ellie said, pointing her spoon towards her. “Plus, it's totally harmless.” she sighed and took the spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

Earlier in the morning, just before breakfast had begun, some of the kids had started a completely civil snowball fight, and on your way toward the dining hall you had all stopped to watch. And you had to admit, they could be kind of cute sometimes. When they weren’t being absolute menaces.

“I say, tonight, as soon as we get back… we get drunk and play some board games.” Jesse said, nudging you with his elbow with a playful smirk.

You looked over, a soft smile. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.” and watched as Ellie continued ahead of you, her hands shoved so deep in her jacket pockets that they might poke out the other end.

Listen, she wasn’t jealous of Jesse, or the fact that the two of you had grown a little closer after you got to town. She knew he would never try anything, and she knew surely, neither would you. But it still sent a thick stroke of anger through her just thinking about the if.

She tried not to, but eventually it was the only thing running through her head. Like an absolute idiot.

You had only seen Jesse merely as a friend. And sometimes, somebody to help you tick Ellie off with stupid puns or to poke fun at. Sometimes. The other times he was stopping by the greenhouse to bring you back samples of plants he found out on patrol.

Most of them were weeds or dead flowers, but you accepted them all and thanked him kindly. He liked you. And he liked that you made Ellie happy, even as much as it grossed him out sometimes when you found yourself staring at her leaving the stables on Shimmer, galloping slow enough to see the steady jostle of her hips lift up and down with a rhythmic bounce.

Jesse had known, at the dance. He knew before then too. He knew when he saw the same look in your eye that he felt in his when he looked at Dina. He was happy for the two of you.

“Ellie, you in?” he asked, catching her attention and making her turn around. She was red in the face, fuming inside her head from a scenario that was nowhere near real.

“Huh?” she asked, and looked at you.

“Board games, drinking, probably a little…” and you put your pinched fingers to your lips, pretending to smoke a joint before blowing the smoke from your mouth with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” and then she turned back around.

The three of you had slowed down, all watching Dina as she knelt down behind a section of the playground, a snowball ready in her hand.

Ellie had been meaning to talk to Dina. About the dance, about the looks she had been giving you, she was so confused by it all, not really understanding why she did it and now why she seemed to hate your guts. Especially because no one knows. Or, at least… they weren’t supposed to.

You didn’t want to make a big deal of things, and since Jackson was relatively small and it was typically pretty calm, you did not want to be the talk of the town. Or any for that matter. But after Ellie had noticed how hesitant you were to go say goodbye to her at the stables, she knew something was wrong.

And it made her kind of mad. She felt the smallest amount of pride too, if she was being honest. She liked how much you flushed at the thought of someone else being upset that you had her instead of them. But on the offhand, she wanted to kindly tell Dina off for making you afraid to even say a simple ‘goodbye’ before patrol.

“It’s not a big deal, I don’t want to make something out of nothing.” and your eyes were glued to the floor.

“Tell me,” and her voice was so soft, melting on your tongue as her gloved hand grabbed yours. They were so warm, radiating a soft heat through the leather.

“I– it’s just… maybe Dina knows, you know? Maybe she saw and she hates me or something and–”

And Ellie sighed, swinging your hand playfully in hers.

“I told you, it's nothing!” and your voice was high, trying to hide itself in the lie.

“No. it’s not nothing. I’ll talk to her. Tell her to fuck off. If she saw, then who cares? Lucky her.” and Ellie slipped off one of her gloves to cup your face, pecking your lips slowly. Warm.

“I’ll talk to her, okay?” and you nodded. You could live with that.

Ellie came to a halt, her hands gripping the fence before she called out after Dina. “Hey Dina! Can I talk to you?”

And it was then that she finally noticed her, standing up from her kneeling position and throwing her hands up in defense. “Hey, guys? I’m tapping out!”

Ellie turned back to look at you, reminding you of the promise she had made earlier. You took it. “We’ll meet you inside?” and Ellie gave you a quick nod, her head tilting back while her eyes stayed on yours until you smiled at her and turned the corner, continuing your conversation with Jesse.

“So, what kinda board games are we talking?’ and you nudged him, hard enough to make you think you had caused him to stumble over. Which obviously made you burst out a laugh.

From there, it was obvious why Ellie was upset. She lost. Big time. Those kids had annihilated her and Dina, and there wasn’t a soul brave enough to face them again. They deserved this, those punks.

Or at least, that’s what Ellie had said from beside you. “They’re punks. They ambushed us. And they tackled you?!” her sigh was long, and she looked over to you for help, maybe a little bit of approval.

“Well… I mean, it does seem a little extreme Ells.” and you looked a little apologetic.

“Wha— Jesse, c’mon, back me up.”

Jesse jutted his hands out from underneath their place on his chin. “Hey, leave me outta this. I don’t want any part of it.”

Ellie lets out a frustrated exhale. Her hands resting against the table with one potato wedge in each. “IT is a completely non-extreme movie to show to a bunch of 12 year olds. You guys just suck.” she says, eyeing you before sticking one of her soggy wedges in your face.

Your brows are pulled up and your eyes tracking her flail these cold dead sticks of potato around as she continues her spiel. “I mean, IIIII think they deserve to feel their hearts beating in their chests for once… right? Like I’m practically doing them all a favor. We all are… because when screening starts, we sit through the first quarter, and then after all the parents fall asleep, BAM–” and Ellie is suddenly flinging her wedge across the table, landing hard against Jesse’s cheek with a rippling smack.

There's a moment of shrilling silence between the four of you, just before he wipes his hand down his face to dust off the skin of the potato and says. “Thank you, for this.” and plops it onto his plate.

It’s then that’s when you break, leaning forward against the table and letting your laugh erupt out of you like some kind of overflowing bubble.

Your eyes are practically sewn shut, and you breathe in just moments before jump starting another round of laughter from everyone around you. Including Ellie.

God, you had loved it when you made her laugh. It usually happens when you aren't trying. But it was worth it all regardless, just to see her lips break apart with the sound of your laugh alone, her teeth revealing themselves before she hung her head away from you to try and regulate herself.

She never knew you noticed that about her.

When you finally opened your eyes, letting the stars clear from your vision, you saw Ellie’s head had fallen back, and a wide grin was etched into her freckled face, the red hue blending between the constellations of her skin.

You felt Dina’s eyes on you just then, barely deep enough to cause you to look over at her and watch the look wipe itself right off her face. Did she see the way you were looking at Ellie? Did Jesse? Did everyone?

The two of you hadn't told anyone about what had gone on last week, mostly because you yourself didn’t really know. You had never ever expected for Ellie to admit she felt the same way as you did, let alone first.

Since then, the two of you had definitely been more than friends, but it was just that. You were still obviously friends, there was just a shift. You two still hung out as much as you did before, just now, they lasted longer. Day’s usually. And you had started going with Ellie to the stables more often, saying goodbye to her and coming back after her patrol shift was over if you weren’t busy working.

Your days usually ended the same, either you coming to Ellie, or her meeting you wherever you were scheduled that day. (mostly the greenhouse.)

It had worked better when you were scheduled to actually be working in the stables, helping prep Shimmer and the rest of the horses that were going out that day, or cleaning out their beds and refilling their water after it had frozen over. But you still went. You couldn’t stand not being around Ellie now that you were… more than friends.

There was a sudden worry in your stomach every time you watched her leave from behind Jacksons gates, the gnawing feeling eating away at you that there was a possibility that she couldn’t come back.

You liked Ellie, a lot. Definitely more than a friend, and more than all the words at your disposal. You would do anything you could to make her happy, to keep that part of her that is buried in fear and everything else she hasn’t told you alive. You wanted to push her buttons just enough to make her pinch at the sides of your waist in retaliation and cause you to try and get away from her grasp with scream laughs following behind you.

And to state the obvious, you wanted Ellie, period. You wanted her to touch you like no one else had ever before, even yourself. The execution is what had you stumped though. The line was blurry for you, and you weren’t sure if and how you were supposed to go about all of this. You were too afraid to ask.

And Ellie would never make fun of you, really if you did ask… but you knew that she had been with Cat, and you knew that she had more experience than you. And it made you feel kind of intimidated, and kind of jealous if you were totally honest. You had wanted to keep Ellie all for yourself, for your eyes only.

Which of course you knew was a little unhealthy, but you really couldn’t help yourself. She was Ellie. Everyone who really knew her loved her, how could you not?

You rested your eyes on your lap just then, drawing back into the reality of Jesse’s stupid remark. And her hand had rested high on your thigh, rubbing slow circles there as she tried to rid herself of the jokes Jesse was about to make. You had to pretend you were totally unaffected by it, when in truth you wanted to drag her to the bathroom right then and there.

You didn’t though, obviously.

|

A few hours later, after you, Dina, and Jesse had somehow fallen accomplices to Ellie’s stupid prank, you were sitting around in the dining hall watching the first half of Summer Magic.

There were fewer parents than all of you had expected, but the ones who did end up coming were asleep near the back of the room or leaning against the posts with bored expressions laid thickly on their faces.

You watched as Ellie sat next to you, her arms folded over her chest with a devious glare planted across her face, the light from the projector completely giving her away.

You then look back at Dina who was sitting a few seats behind you, closer to the for-mentioned projector and quite literally sitting on the key ingredient in the form of an old dinged up VHS tape.

Her eyes flickered from the screen to yours, and for nearly half a second, you could have sworn she had rolled her eyes at you.

Ellie noticed your head turn, and free’d a hand from her position to rest it on your leg. “Relax, we're not gonna get caught. Dina’ll throw them off.” and she offered you a small smile, squeezing your thigh lovingly.

Oh it wasn’t getting caught what had made you so nervous, it was the look in Dina’s eyes that read I know what you’re doing.

Soon enough, you did actually relax back into the movie, Ellie’s hand warm against the fabric of your jeans and her thumb slowly moving back and forth to decompress your anxiety.

It unfortunately didn’t last long, because just when you shifted positions to lay your head against her shoulder, the screen had gone dark and the room had swarmed with loud sounds of all the kids groaning and screeching to the sudden darkness of the room.

You had almost done the same, not knowing that Jesse was going to switch all the lights off at once.

Ellie had perked her head up then, watching from her dilated pupils, children standing from their seats and trying hopelessly to find their parents in the pitch black of the dining hall.

It was kind of cruel, watching how much she was enjoying it. You tugged on the sleeve of her gray hoodie, getting her attention. “Ellie, I think this is too much. We should stop before someone narc’s.”

She looked at you for a moment contemplating it. She did kind of feel a little guilty. Not for the kids though, but for you. She could tell how much it upset you, watching all of these little kids run around aimlessly trying to find their parents. It made her wonder if it had reminded you of what it was like before coming to Jackson. She had never had the courage to ask, she was too scared to figure out the answer.

Ellie didn’t want to picture you like one of these kids, screaming with tears running down their small cheeks and their voice cracking as they all yelled for the same thing. Protection. Ellie could give that to you, she knew that.

She hesitated. “I– okay. Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll find Dina, tell her there’s a change in plans. Okay?” and it's almost worrisome, how hard the sigh fell from your lips when the words “I’m sorry.” echoed in your ears.

“Okay.” and you stood up with Ellie, pecking her lips before thinking on it. She pulled her head back, and you could almost feel the confusion radiate off her.

Her hand had squeezed yours momentarily. “I’ll be right back.” and there was one last pinch to your fingers just as the screen lit up, an off-white flooding everyone's eyes.

It was then that you saw all of the kids scattered around the room, some huddled together in groups, and others backs flat against the large windows, hands still spread out in front of them in search.

The horror of their faces flushed the color from your face. They were just kids. And even if it was just a stupid prank, it was real to them. It was like their world was ending all over again.

But it was too late, because there it was, frame for frame what Ellie had talked about just hours before. The street post in full view as the people paraded the street with ease.

Ellie swore under her breath. “Shit.”

She turned her head around frantically, trying to find Dina, only she was now across the room, kneeling down in front of a little girl who was sobbing uncontrollably.

“Ellie,” you said, and there was a twinge in your eye that screamed, stop.

She looked down at you, watching as you shook your head slowly, eyes fighting the tears that so desperately wanted to pool there.

It was then that Seth had stepped into the center of the room, a mere few feet from the screening. “What’s going on here?!” he yelled, trying to find someone in the crowd to blame.

His eyes cut into your and Ellie’s, and he could see from the look on your face that you were scared, and after he realized that… he glanced over to a group of tween boys who were huddled around in a small group. “HEY!” he said pointedly, cutting their group apart with the snap of his dirtied fingernail.

The boys looked up, a different kind of fear ringing off of them. They dispersed almost instantly, moving away to find their younger siblings who were all still crying.

“Who’s doing this?” and he was spinning slowly, trying to make blame.

But it's then that the echo of Pennywise’s voice breaks the sudden silence, instantly turning him and the rest of the kids faces white.

“I’ll kill you all. Ha! I’ll drive you crazy and KILL you all!” Seth had suddenly stopped and stared straight up at the screen, his face dropping completely as he gulped down his fear.

This wasn’t part of the joke, to single him out and make him quite near piss his pants in terror. But it was somewhat entertaining to watch considering what had happened after you left Ellie and Dina on the dancefloor.

Ellie had told you a few days ago, laying flat on her back with a joint resting gently on the makeshift ashtray she had made from a small piece of wood.

You watched as she blew the smoke from her lips, curling in on itself while desperately trying to cling to the ceiling above.

It had made you mad, and Ellie just as much. Even if she didn’t like Dina like that, it was uncalled for in the first place.

Back in the dining hall, watching all of this unfold, Ellie stood there frozen, helpless. She didn’t know what to do. She knew what she should do, she should pull the plug and take the blame for all of it. But that was a harder bridge to cross when she enjoyed the terror that struck through Seth’s face as he watched a fictional clown threaten to kill him.

“I am your worst dream, come true! I’m everything you ever were afraid of!”

Ellie turns her attention away from him momentarily, seeing the curtain ripple just for a few seconds, seeing the flash of Jesse’s shoe slowly creep across the floor behind the screen.

You saw it too, knowing exactly what was to come before Ellie blinked in recognition.

And the entire room went quiet, unable to look away just as Pennywises’ hand curls into a claw and Jesse is jumping out from behind the sheet to tackle Seth to the ground with a loud thud.

He screams, and Ellie can’t help herself but laugh, folding in on herself as she places her hands on her knees. It was truly a sight. Seth is on the ground, kicking and screaming like his life depends on it, all while the rest of the kids and adults watch, doing nothing.

You can hear Jesse's faint laugh, a low chuckle shredding through the fabric and sending Seth into a spiral of utter fear. It was kind of ironic how afraid of clowns he seemed to be when he was one himself.

The smell came before anything else, and it hit Jesse first, causing him to jump off of him with a gag to follow. “Did you piss your pants?” he says, just loud enough to reach the ears of the gaggle of tween boys that were standing near the front of the room.

“Holy shit! He pissed himself!” and that’s what started the domino effect of laughter, soon filling the room with giggles from the children who had all finally sponged up all their tears.

You followed suit too, giggling into your hand before hearing Ellie cackle, her head falling back and a loud laugh erupting deep from within her lungs. She had been holding that one in for some time.

As the laughter had begun to subside, the door could be heard slamming on his hinges, and a few moments later the lights flickered back on and Tommy was standing next to Maria. Fumming.

Oh shit.

Ellie straightened up at the sight of him, knowing that they had all been caught. Not just Dina and Jesse, but the entire room.

Tommy eyed the two of you, squaring you away in his head. Ellie’s eyes had glazed over from her laughter, but were soon pushed away to the corners when she cleared her throat.

He looked over his shoulder, watching as Seth had struggled to stand with a big wet spot on the crotch of his khasis. Wincing, he took a few steps over toward him.

“Seth,” he said, a little hesitantly. “What happened here?” and it was then that he finally found the strength to pull himself upright, not hesitating to rat you all out.

“Those kids, is what happened! They ambushed me, and that one even assaulted me!” he yelled, pointing to Jesse who had the sheet balled up in his arms across the room.

Tommy eyed him, and then without saying a word he shoved the sheet over to one of the boys next to him.

|

“You guys wanna tell me what the hell just happened back there?” the four of you stood outside in the cold, your winter jackets folded in your arms unprepared for the sudden eviction.

You didn’t even have to look up from your spot on the ground when Ellie had chirped up an apology. “It was all my fault. My idea, they didn’t have anything to do with it.” and she eyed up Tommy, begging him to take the bait she laid out for him.

He sighed, and blew out a sigh. “Wh… I- Jesus, I can’t deal with all of this. Just go home. All of you.” Tommy was beyond frustrated, but he didn’t have it in him to give out punishments right now. He was going to leave that to Maria.

“Tommy, they aren’t a part of this-”

He looked at her, and then one by one, the rest of the group. “Go. Home. We’ll settle this in the morning.” and he didn’t wait a second more to turn his back on the four of you and return inside. Slamming the door for a second time.

As soon as the door is calm against its frame, Jesse turns inward and slings his jacket on. “Told ya,” and he shrugs his shoulders before shoving them deep into his pockets.

Ellie’s eyes are glued to the still door, making sure that it stayed shut until you all left. Which would probably be sooner or later, considering it was freezing and it would take a few minutes to get home.

“He got what he deserved.” and Ellie pulled her coat over her shoulders, nudging you with an elbow to silently tell you to do the same.

“Guess so.” he said before looking over at Dina, who was looking right at Ellie.

You tried not to overthink it… but it was so hard to look away when it felt like you were looking in a mirror, watching Dina look at Ellie the same way you had been for months.

Ellie finally perked up, her voice hugging around your waist with a sting. Her hand was freezing under your shirt. You prayed no one noticed, but of course they did.

“Hey, you guys wanna come hang out? We can get drunk and play board games, just like you wanted.” and her hand slips out from beneath your skin to playfully backhand Jesse’s arm.

You didn’t want her to let go, your skin forming goosebumps in protest, the silent and microscopic atoms of your skin trying to prick hers and lock them together forever.

But of course she did, she had to. Because she knew if she didn’t she would want to hold you forever.

Ellie was hopeless, in her mind. She had tried over and over again to try and forget that she had essentially spilled her guts to you last week. She wanted to tell you she had lied, or that she didn’t mean any of it, or trick herself into thinking none of it had even happened in the first place. But of course it did, and of course she had meant every word she said.

You liked her. And she liked you. It was as simple as that.

But of course, it wasn’t. These feelings were too big, too overwhelming and neither you or Ellie had any idea what to do with all of them. And sure, maybe they had been slowly spilling out into tonight, or yesterday, or a few days before that… but what would happen if they exploded, and made a huge mess of everything.

What if Ellie had something she didn’t mean, all because she was so fucking nervous to mess this up. To make you hate her. She feared it everyday since she met you, and that fear would either fuel her to do what she desperately wants, or eat her alive until she's nothing but a shaky bundle of nothing.

Jesse looked to Dina, hoping she might help him tell a flawless lie. “Ah, we probably shouldn’t. We’re probably gonna get scheduled to patrol because of tonight. Soon though.” and he shrugged an arm over Dina’s left shoulder.

Her eyes cut to you for the split of a second, just enough to make you squirm and look at your feet.

Ellie of course didn’t catch on. “Yeah, sure.” and she cocked her head up at him as the two of them walked off, making thin footprints in the snow.

“I thought you said you talked to her.” and you look up to meet Ellie’s eyes. Your lips were tucked in an unforgiving line. You were just the tiniest bit mad. You hated the fact that she didn’t like you, more so that you didn’t know what you did wrong.

“I did! She said she didn’t know what I was talking about. I let it go.” and she seemed genuine. But really? She didn’t know what you were talking about?

Before you could fire back, before a single word slipped past your lips, Ellie spoke again.

“How come you kissed me in there?” Ellie says now, the threat of a smile on her lips.

You drew back a bit, shocked. “Um, I dunno. I didn’t think about it.” and you search her face, trying to blink a response out of her. “Can you not change the subject?”

“I was kinda surprised if I'm being honest. It’s so… not you.”

You were fumbling, your hands clasping together to try and gain some control back into your system. “Ellie, you said you woul– wait, what do you mean not like me?”

Ellie’s smirk was hiding in plain sight. She was getting a rise out of you. And successfully changing the subject. Her hands found their way to her pockets, shoving them deep inside for warmth. “I just… I dunno. It was different from how you usually act.”

You knew secretly what Ellie meant. And she was right. It WAS out of character. But in the moment, in that dark room with over at least 200 people inside, that same feeling came flooding back into your stomach, and before you knew it you were kissing Ellie how you would if she were being sent off overseas. “I just… wanted to. Was it weird?” and you look at Ellie for approval, hoping she would tell you no. And if by some chance she said yes, you hoped she would let you down easily.

But she laughed, her breath catching the light just outside the building that was beaming down on the two of you and reflecting the glistening snow. “No. I thought it was kind of cute.”

“Shut up.” you said, nudging her just enough to express another laugh from her before speaking up again. “What did Dina say?”

“She doesn’t hate you, I’ll tell you that much.” and Ellie laughed again, but this time, it was stale, dried up and knocking against her throat on its way up.

“Ellie.” you couldn’t find her eyes, she was avoiding you.

She looked a little flushed now, even a little frustrated that you could easily get past her bullshit of a lie. Which wasn’t completely, it was a half truth.

“Okay, so she didn’t say it, but I mean it’s what she meant. Swear. She likes you.”

She didn’t hate you, that was true. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

Ellie hesitates, before pulling a hand from her pocket to slot it in with yours. She doesn’t know if she should even be doing stuff like this, and to be completely honest, she has no fucking clue what she’s doing. And her lips quiver. She convinces herself it's because it's cold out. But god she’s so afraid.

Ellie somehow managed to get you as her friend, but now, now is when it mattered. She didn’t want to fuck it up. She didn’t want to cross a line that she couldn’t take her word back on, lie her way out of or make a stupid joke to make you forget about it.

She was more than lucky to have met you, and certainly the luckiest girl in the entire world to have you like her. And she liked her just as much, probably even a little more.

How could she not? How could someone so bright walk into a place like this and not have people drawn into your beaming light and infectious laugh? It certainly worked for Ellie, there must have been half a dozen people who thought the same as her.

Your eyes drift from your locked hands to her face, she’s staring right at you. Right through you. “She likes me? Really?” and the smile is soft on your purpling lips.

“Yeah.”

You sigh, a little relieved. “She has a hard time showing it. More than you.” and you chuckle before wrapping an arm around her back, drawing her closer to you.

She was warm. Finally.

|

You opened Ellie’s door with ease, the laughter pushing you further and further inside with her hand on the small of your back and the other clutching a wine bottle.

She was covered in snow from head to toe. All to hear those giggles that were echoing around the room. Ellie had never been much of a drinker, but when she did occasionally, man was it a sight. She had shed her protective shield, leaving her to act like a 14-year-old boy who thought the word “Balls” was the funniest thing in the world.

Where you had even gotten the wine? Neither of you could really remember. But what you can picture clear as day is Ellie standing with her arms stretched out wide, with the bottle in one hand and the other flailing around as she yelled at the top of her lungs how much she loved Shimmer.

The snow was piled high, leaving you to stand at the bottom to watch as she confessed her love for her horse.

“She- she’s amazing. She… she’s such a good horse.” and she stood there, holding in a breath just seconds before exhaling with a laugh, something so deep in her stomach that hearing it made you do the same. You loved seeing her laugh, and so far this was the most of it you had seen since you met her.

“Ellie! Be careful, you’re gonna fall.” you said, the giggles threatening to rise in your voice as you watched her slowly move her hips back and forth. It was then that the snow mound had shifted under her foot, causing her to drunkenly slide down the side of it with an “Oof” and the wine to splatter across the blinding snow. It had painted itself all over Ellie, almost looking like blood in your hazy vision.

You couldn't help but laugh, and a minute later after you had come back to earth to see Ellie was laying down on her back chuckling to herself quietly.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Your hand flew over your mouth to smother your laugh.

Ellie was unsure, considering the sharp pain that was quickly forming against her back, the ice burning a hole there at what felt like lightning speed. But as soon as she saw your face, and had seen the glimmer reflecting off of the snow. She was perfectly fine.

“Yeah,” she said, taking the bottle to her lips and chugging down a few gulps. Ellie never liked drinking much, she didn’t like how it made her feel. IE: horny. Horny for you, most definitely.

The tingle in her legs had begun to grow the second that you bent over to help her stand, and the flash of your cleavage sent a bold brush stroke through her. She looked away, but the image was already burned behind her tightly shut eyes.

Fuck, she wanted you so bad, it had made her dizzy. Or was that because of how fast she stood up? Now she didn’t know. It didn’t stop her from kissing you though, with one hand clasped around yours and the other hanging onto the half empty wine bottle.

Your hand had touched the side of her face gingerly, and the feeling of her warm skin lit something bright inside you. So much so that it nearly poured right out of you with a quiet moan against Ellie’s lips.

They couldn’t do this here. But god did they want to. Both of them, right now, had never felt how their skin was on fire. Especially Ellie. And now she could crave that feeling for the rest of her life, chasing the high of your lips and the small sounds you made when she touched you.

“Let’s go,” you breathed against her, and without hesitating Ellie passed you the bottle and dragged you by the hand until you were back inside her room.

You both stood there now, a little breathless and unsure of what to do.

Ellie was undoubtedly covered in wine AND snow, and you were covered in goosebumps from watching her strip off her layers, leaving her in a white tank top and her jeans.

“This fuckin’...” she trailed off, and shimmied the sleeve of her hoodie off of her, tossing it on the ground next to her. You looked at her, mouth hanging open with dilated pupils. A look full of lust.

There's a knot inside your throat, tying the words together so tightly that all you can do is breathe, watching Ellie as she steps closer to you. To her bed.

Her hand is in yours again, and she’s taking you so far, tipping you over the edge of something that can never be undone. There are no do-overs. This is it. And it's happening, now.

“Ellie,” you rasp just as she sits on the edge of her bed, her hands instantly flying to cup your hips and draw you in closer.

She looks up at you. And the thought fuzzies out all of your other worries, underlining it in bold black ink. You want Ellie. You want to grip at her thighs and feel the wetness between her legs. You wanted to be between those same legs.

“I want you.” and you can’t fucking believe the words left your mouth, low and a little slurred. But it was true. It was all so unbelievably true that you had to laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” Ellie said, moving her hand ever so slightly off its comfortable place on your waist, flaring out her fingers to enunciate her question.

Your head fell between your shoulders, hovering over hers. “I don’t know.” you knew. You were so nervous. Excited, but nervous. Because it was real. And so was she. And so were her thumbs slowly making circles on your hot skin.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

Was it that obvious? You couldn’t even look at her when you said quietly, “Yeah…”

Ellie cocked her head down, searching for eye contact. “Why?”

“You make me nervous. All of this does. I dunno.”

Ellie was baffled. She made you nervous? Oh, if only she knew. “I- I make you nervous?” and there was something playful behind her words, something that only made the smile on your lips grow. “Why do I make you nervous?” and her hands crept forward, to the opening of your jacket, threatening to pull it off of you.

You gulp back your words, a hitch in your voice when you finally find them again. “Because… I’ve never, I- I dunno. You just do.” and your coat is on the floor by now, leaving you in a gray long sleeve shirt.

“You never what?” her hands were making you dizzy, your eyes shutting softly before Ellie shifted your shirt just under your ribs and exposing your stomach.

The same stomach that was doing flips on itself, aching for something to touch it deep down inside.

Your breathing was uneven, shaky in some places and so, so shallow in others, unable to catch it.

“I’ve… never done anything before. B- by myself, but.. No one else.” and it was then that Ellie’s hands stilled against your skin, almost like they were suddenly same-faced magnets.

Your eyes met hers with a shrilling silence. The kind that burned.

“You’ve never…?” and all you could do was shake your head.

“No. But I want to. I want… you. I want to… you know, on you,” and the words were barely audible, even with Ellie this close. She was utterly shocked. You wanted… to go down on her? Ellie couldn’t fucking believe it. Her timid, giggly best friend –more than best friend– had just admitted that she wanted to eat her out.

Ellie had never been more turned on, and she didn’t even need a reason for it. She knew, she knew then that it was because of you, and because of those two words “on you” that checked Ellie into a state of mind she never wanted to leave.

“Oh yeah?” she was losing it. Big time.

Ellie’s cheeks were on fucking fire, she was burning up from the inside out, a pool of wetness already filling her underwear. She gripped your hips a little tighter now, unleashing the part of herself that she never wanted you to see, the greedy part. She was so fucking greedy, and she wanted you all to herself. She wanted to mark you as hers somehow, and show you off to all of Jackson.

She kissed you like you were the sun, soaking you in after a long 10-month drought. Your hands flew flat against her shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself before she was leaning you back, her back resting gently against the mattress while your hands boxed her in.

A suppressed moan slipped from your lips, feeling her hands ride up your sides and traveling across your back to snap your bra strap. Her chuckle etched its way across your skin before her nails scratched their way back around to the front and dipped below the button of your jeans.

“Fuck,” her voice was low against your skin. You wanted her to say it again. You wanted her to never stop talking, ever. You wanted her to do everything to you. Everything. You wanted Ellie so bad nothing else mattered to you right now as much as the desperate need to feel as much of her skin on yours.

“Ellie.” you said her name like a warning, the sirens in your head going off with the shift of your body, inching closer to her zipper.

Your shaking hands fumbled there, unsure if there was a certain way you were supposed to take off someone else’s pants, all while they watched. Ellie had now sat up on her elbows, resting there with her eyes glued on you, glued on how your delicate hands were brushing up against her folds that were pressed up against the crotch of her jeans.

Your hands gently pulled them off her hips, dipping underneath before Ellie bucked upward to help you. It was then that you had felt how hot her skin was. And it was all because of you. Because of your mouth and your hands that raked against Ellie’s thighs mercilessly.

You eventually got them off, hanging low around her ankles as one by one you took off her shoes and the rest of her jeans, now completely leaving her exposed besides the thin material of her tank top and underwear.

Ellie had fully sat up soon after, the look in her eyes pungent with lust as she quickly unfastened the button on your pants and stripping them off you with ease. You held onto her shoulders for support as you finished stepping out of them.

Oh so that’s how you do it.

She lifted her head up quickly, just seconds before her hands slowly grazed the bare skin of your thighs. You were so reactive, and Ellie loved every second of it. She knew that if you weren’t covered in goosebumps, you would be soon.

But she stopped herself then. She wanted to let you do what you wanted to do. To go down on her, as you said yourself. Ellie’s hands lifted away from you and you suddenly missed the feeling, leaning into her to try and fall back in her orbit.

“Say it.” was all Ellie said, holding her hands away from you in protest. She was refusing one of the only things you wanted, and that made her bloom with a tingle between her legs. Seeing the look on your face. The way you so badly wanted her.

You snapped back to, reeling back from Ellie. The look in her eye was all consuming. something that no matter how hard you wanted to look away from, you couldn’t. So you spoke instead. Low, with a slight rasp. “I want… I want you Ellie. Please. To go down on you. Let me, let me please.”

Please. Saying her name was more than enough, but the please. Oh you could have her any way you wanted. She loved the way it rang in her ears. So much so that she scooted away from you, setting herself up against her headboard. Just for you.

“C’mere,” Ellie said, and there was no more hesitation. This was it. This was fucking it. You were starving, and Ellie had just offered you to feast.

You were soon following suit, crawling onto Ellie’s bed, and sitting gently on your knees. You found yourself waiting for Ellie to give you further instructions. You wanted to please her, and please her. You wanted to do this justice, memorable even.

You actually found yourself asking for help. “Um… what next?” and you pulled your hair behind your ears with a slight shake to your hands. You were unbelievable.

Ellie looked a little blank then, realizing you really had no idea what to do, she found it cute. And kind of hot if she was being honest. The thought of you being so selfless and wanting to please her, when she hadn’t even asked. that is what Ellie was thinking as you sat on your knees in front of her. For her.

“Do.. you want me t’ tell you?” and she was only met with a singular nod, one that had only made her fume with desire.

“Yes. tell me, please.” and you were whining. You didn’t care.

“Okay.” was all Ellie could say. Her heart was beating out of her fucking chest.

She held out her hand for you, her fingers curling around themselves to usher you in, in between her legs that were already spread for you. “C’mere, for a sec,” and her hands found the soft spot behind your ears, pulling you into her so much that your chest was pressed hard against hers.

The moan vibrates through you, sending a shrill of wetness to collect between your legs. And those same legs had just done the unthinkable, a single knee slotting between the soft spot of Ellie’s clothed cunt.

Her mouth fell open with a moan crashing against you, snapping and cracking into yours. She felt it. You did it again, rubbing your bare knee against her core, getting the same reaction from her. It made the smile on your face shift to a grin. You felt so much pride.

“That– fuck.” Ellie mumbled out, her hands still resting lazily behind your ears. She wasn’t letting you go.

You continued, letting your knee move up and down against her wet folds, sending mass signals to keep going by the sensation that was building up in your stomach listening to the deep sounds that came from within Ellie.

She kissed you again, this time, letting her hands finally fall from their position on your face. Fuck, she needed you now. There was no time for teaching. She wanted your mouth on her cunt, and she wanted it now.

One last moan and Ellie was nearly unraveling, her hands swiftly moving to stop your knee from shifting against her. “Now.” she whispered.

You followed orders, and with her help, you stripped her of her underwear and soon you were met with the rarest sight of her pink pussy.

It was slick with her fluids, nearly glistening against the moonlight that creeped through the curtains, lighting up your back moments later when you inch toward Ellie’s pulsing cunt.

“Just…” Ellie was breathless, her chest rising and falling with hot anticipation.

You wanted to please her, and give her what she deserves. So it's then that you swallow back your worries and attach your lips to her burning nub. Your tongue ran slow circles around it, unsure if what you were doing before Ellie’s hands touched the top of your head, her hands fumbling with strands of your hair and then pressing your head closer to you. Skin to skin. Just like you wanted.

You took her clit between your lips sucking generously as you pulled a groan from deep within Ellie’s stomach, the cord there stretching with ease.

“F…” she mumbled, and Ellie’s fingers were tangled in your hair, curling and pinching at the root. It only made you hornier.

Your tongue danced against the bundle of nerves between her legs, just before you let it lay flat against her folds to collect the wetness for you to taste. Unexpectedly sweet. You did it a few more times, not getting enough. The voice in your head had diminished, leaving you to place your hand between those same pink folds and caress them slowly.

Edging. You were edging her, and you hadn’t even known it. Some part of you had just known exactly what to do. You just needed a little shove. Like Ellie’s hands, pushing your head down again and arching her back off of her bed to try and bring herself closer.

She let out what could only be described as a pornographic moan, a sound so guttural that your free hand had actually rode up the center of Ellie’s stomach, holding it in place as you began to unravel her from her tight knot.

It was when your fingers had dipped through her tight walls, the sensation alone making you moan against her heat before Ellie finally released her hands from you and let them fly toward her sides, flexing her fingers wide in preparation for the orgasm that was soon to come.

“Fuck, shit… jus’ right.. there.” and you felt her stomach tighten, tipping over that same edge.

Two of your fingers had slowly started pumping in and out of her, so agonizingly slow, but soon were quick enough to cause Ellie to lose her breath and draw in as much air as she could before stopping all together.

The sudden image flooded Ellie’s brain, smudging in the messy lines of your hair falling against her thigh as you devoured her whole. It was thrilling seeing you like this– in a position Ellie never could've even imagined you in– with your ass perked up, your stomach relaxing against the mattress just barely grazing it, and the small of it on full display as your shirt was still coiled up below your ibs, a little higher now, barely revealing your bra strap. But it was perfect. It was all so perfect.

Her orgasm hit her hard. Sending her flying over the edge with a loud groan, followed by the snapping of the cord in her stomach and warm liquid dripping from her as she clenched hard around your fingers.

You soaked up her cum, licking it with the tip of your tongue as you continued to help her from what you must have known was her high.

Ellie arched her back against the hand on her stomach then wrapped both hands around your forearm to ground herself. She was soaring, clenching around your gentle fingers as you fucked her with what she thought had to be the hands and mouth of someone who’d done this before.

Her mouth was agape. She couldn’t stop, letting the moans roll out of her with ease. She didn’t fight it. She couldn’t. Ellie was stupid to think that this would’ve never happened. Because if it wasn’t you, it’d be her between your legs. Which is what she so desperately craved.

“Fuck.” Ellie finally said. Her fingers were still wrapped around your arm, tight enough to leave crescent shaped marks that might even bruise.

You drew back to catch your breath, wanting to go back in for more before she had stopped you, gently tugging on your arm to pull you up closer to her. She looked at you in the low light, the glisten of your spit and her cum all over your face. Traveling as far as the tip of your nose and a single bead down the center of your neck. You were covered. And it pleased Ellie more than she’d ever admit –if it weren't for the look of lust piercing through your eyes, wide like a spooked cat–

“Where, the fuck did you learn that?” she asked you, the hold on your forearm strong, but not painful.

You licked your lips and managed to collect the sweet taste of Ellie before you spoke. “I–”

“Did you just lick your lip?” and Ellie was completely stunned. You had licked your lip. You licked your lip. Surely you were asking to be fucked.

“What?” and you threw your hands up at your sides with a laugh. You knew what you were doing. You loved getting this kind of reaction out of her. And there was a small tingling feeling in the nape of your neck that told you you had ticked her off enough to get something out of it for yourself.

“You're such’a brat.'' Ellie smirked.

In the matter of seconds, the hold on your hips was so tight that she had managed to flip you on your back with ease and the tiniest yelp to escape past your lips. Ellie’s lips connected with yours, dipping her tongue in your mouth with whatever resistance she had left as her hands tugged at your underwear before pulling them off in one fast motion.

You had gone so slowly with her that her fuse had come and gone, leaving her to hungrily take you in her hands like a fucking animal.

“Shit,” she teased, a hand cupping your dripping pussy, all for me, she thought. And that was true. It was all for her, it always was.

And then she asked, the two words that were echoing inside your head now with her voice pinning them down permanently. “For me?” and the smirk had developed fully now, all of the ink flooding to her face, a red hue visible to you even in the dark.

Her fingers found themselves hovering over your clit, rubbing the lightest circles possible with the pad of her finger just barely grazing it. This alone made your back contort forward, meeting Ellie heart to heart. Both yours and hers beating out of their chests.

The moan that echoed into Ellie’s mouth was low, almost like a whisper. But Jesus did it make her want to hear it again. Again and again and again she wanted it. She fucking needed it. She needed to hear how good she was making you feel, even if this was just the start.

Ellie held herself back with what little resistance she had left in her, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before she drew back from you to sit on her knees. Her legs were spread wide enough that the reminisce of her unmade bed and rumpled comforter just barely grazed against her irritated clit, sending a shock through her in the form of a wince and the biting of her bottom lip. Along with a sudden jolt of her hips, adjusting herself closer to you.

Her hand shifts again, palming your cunt with a light hand, only to suddenly reel it back and slap it playfully. It wasn’t a mean smack, just enough of one to send you rolling forward and upright. Your hands now holding you up and eyeing Ellie with the slightest bit of worry spread across your face. You had never seen her act this way toward you. So dark… and vulgar. And you of course had never had her hit you. But there was something about it that you kind of… liked. It was indescribable, the feeling you got when the sting reached you. It… it woke something up, something that was always there. And there was a sudden hunger for it that only she could and would fill.

“Do that again.” you said, and the words sounded so matter-of-fact coming out of your mouth that Ellie didn’t even hesitate before there was a small cold gust of air that flooded your core when her hand drew away from you, only to come crashing down with a stifling smack that made the moan in your throat stagger out in broken breaths.

Ellie wanted the image burned inside her brain for the rest of her life. And her wish was granted when she had quickly laid her thigh over yours, wasting absolutely no time and turning herself at the perfect angle to align your dripping pussies.

Your hand is fumbling to touch Ellie, to touch any part of her really. And when you run your fingers along your leg, you meet with the edge of Ellie’s hip. You grip hard against her skin, pulling her forward until you meet flesh to flesh. The feeling alone seals your eyes shut with a flutter. And soon after Ellie’s drawing comes to life.

You with your mouth agape, and your eyes pinched shut along with your brows that had begun to pull together. She hadn’t even shifted against you, but feeling her warmth against you was already sending floods of blood to pump through your entire body.

This doesn’t last nearly long enough because Ellie lifts your leg up over one shoulder and grinds herself against you, fast. She gives you no warning, her hot heat rippling against yours like a bullet at a high speed, sending wave after wave of pleasure to shoot through you with a loud and unexpected moan.

Ellie laughed, but that didn’t stop her. No. Now, her only mission was making you feel how she’s been dying to for months; and a little extra, because after all… you really had deserved it.

She gripped onto the back of your thigh with both of her hands, opening your legs wider to make sure you felt as much of her as possible. She wanted to dive into your slippery folds, soak up every ounce of wetness that was designed just for her.

And she did just that, continuing to thrust against you until the moans were bubbling out of you, with no remorse. You were flooded with feeling, tingling from head to toe with the way Ellie felt against you. It was everything you had ever thought and so so so much more.

This did not feel the same as when you did it, your hand disappearing below the elastic of your underwear to feel how turned on you were after waking yourself up from a wet dream in the middle of the night. Your hand was sloppy as it swept back and forth your swollen clit, your other hand cupping and playing with your ice cold nipple, trying to sooth yourself any way you could.

But Ellie was persistent, her rhythm proficient as she pulled and pushed against your core, soft moans leaving her perfect bow-shaped lips.

It wasnt much later that your soft whimpers transformed into earth shattering moans, leaving you completely breathless as Ellie fucked you into the next 10 years.

Her hand grazed your bare abdomen, tugging at the fabric of your shirt to motion for you to take it off. Which you did absentmindedly, lazily pulling it up past your breasts and over your head, along with your sports bra soon after to reveal all of you to Ellie.

“Fuck, just like I pictured,” and her voice was light, clearly out of breath and raspy because of it.

She reached forward, cupping your tit with her ice cold hand. The moan had lodged itself back down your throat at the feeling, sending an immediate signal for your nipples to harden ever more than they already were.

“Ellie,” you croak. You were close, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust she made.

“Fuck.” her stomach was hollowing out, spilling all over you with a low bellow falling from her lips uncontrollably, gripping into your breast as she continued to grind herself against you,more rapidly now.

“Fuck, Ellie. Shit!” and you were gripping the sheets of Ellie’s bed like your own, coming so close against her that she felt it, she could feel your walls clenching around nothing but her lips.

Your orgasm washed over you completely. You let yourself ride out the high with no remorse, your leg shaking hard over Ellie’s shoulder while she slowed her pace to bring you down together.

You opened your eyes a few moments later, letting yet another moan fall from your lips while you watched Ellie’s chest heave with every shallow breath she took.

Her grip on your tit had softened but not before the shape of her nails were imprinted on the soft skin there. You hadn’t minded though. You liked knowing the next morning that you really didn’t dream it.

“Shit.” you whisper, trying to find Ellie’s eyes.

Once she notices your voice, her eyes shift toward you and she rests your leg back down against her bed gently just as she untangles herself from you and rests down next to you.

Ellie comes back down slowly, thousands of images running on the insides of her head with the speed of her heartbeat, fueling them all.

“Hey,” you say, gently rubbing small circles against her back.

Ellie doesn’t say a word. She can’t. Her head is traveling with her inside and she can’t slow it down no matter how hard she tries. But when she feels the light touch of your hand against her, she’s drawn back, back inside her room, with you. Just you.

She looks at you over her shoulder just moments before she sees your legs shake, the goosebumps prominent against your skin due to Ellie herself and because suddenly, with no clothes on in what previously was a garage, you realize just how cold it was in here.

Ellie does too, and she reaches over you to grab ahold of her comforter to pull it up and over your shivering body. It warmed you instantly, along with the feeling of Ellie laying down beside you and finally speaking. “Holy shit.”

She’s laying down on her back next to you, staring up at the ceiling as you watch, your elbow propping up your head to get a better view of her profile.

She's silent for a beat, not knowing if she should say what she’s dying to. She really likes you. Ellie wants you, more than a friend, more than anything. And she wants you to know, and tell her the same thing. But what if you didn’t–

“I really like you.” she says. Her eyes go wide. She’s afraid to move, praying that maybe you had already fallen asleep and hadn’t heard her.

But you were awake. You were stunned back into the reality of Ellie telling you the same thing you were thinking and had been for quite some time.

You blush. “I really like you too.”

The small smile on your face grew when Ellie's head turned along with her body to face you head on. Her breath had caught in her throat, a shaky and shallow version taking its place as she reached with curled fingers to place a stand of hair behind your ear

She needed to know. “Was it okay?” and she met your eyes, the uncertainty in them was cute to you. You found it so sweet that she was worried.

“No.” you said, breathing in slowly. You were fucking with her, prodding for a raction.

“No?” and she reeled her hand away from your face. She was kicking herself– of course it wasn’t okay. She had no clue what she was doing. She shouldn’t have kissed you, in the greenhouse, tonight… she–

“I’m fucking with you.” and you can’t help but giggle into your arm. “It was more than okay. Better than anything.”

“Jerk.” she scrunched her nose and pulled the covered tight over your shoulder, cocooning you in.

You let out a laugh then, the kind that had the pull of Ellie’s lips forming into a sly grin before she took a playful jab at you. “I’m surprised, y'know… about the.. Y’know. You have the mouth of like ah, what's the thing? Venus fly trap! Yeah…”

And you laugh in Ellie’s face then, loud enough to make her crack a full smile. God, her second favorite sound. “What?” and the sound had ripped something heavy off of Ellie’s chest. A slick sludge that was weighing down her ribs. It was stripped clean with the sound of your giggles alone.

“I– Like the…” and she pinched her fingers to demonstrate. Dropping her hand against your covered waist when she had failed to show you what she meant. “What I'm trying to say is… I had a good time. I just wanted to say that.”

Your laugh subsides then. Relishing in the overwhelming truth.

“I did too.” you smile at her. You couldn’t help it.

“Good.”

Ellie hesitates a moment, her hand laying atop of your side softly before she reels back and pulls herself underneath the covers with you.

Once she’s settled beside you, you take it upon yourself to inch closer to her, resting your head on her chest that was still somehow beating 100 miles an hour.

“I’m kind of tired. And pretty drunk.”

Ellie chuckles against you softly before drawing in a deep breath. “Same.”

And just as your eyes begin to flutter closed, you murmur against her. “Hey, now you can draw me like… all the time. Now you know what I look like naked and stuff..”

And just then, the thought alone would keep her up most of the night. You had no idea what you’d just done to her.

She didn’t care. For now, this was enough.

Soon though, she would get you to pose for her. For real this time.

Ellie would have you all to herself, and the feeling would send her into a soft sleep.

taglist: @hazelnutsforellie @coeurify @bunification @0atm1lf @aklxojjk @trouble-mans @soleilmoons

[lick-me-lennon22]

How they'd comfort you after you've been betrayed by your friends

(requested by anon, who's recently experienced something that would be difficult for anyone to cope with 💘 I hope I'm able to provide you with some comfort during this rough time 💕)

John

when you share this news with John, he reacts with a mix of empathy and righteous indignation

he is gutted for you and vengeful, channeling his protective instincts and offering to confront the betrayers on your behalf

he recommends some of the outlets he uses to handle his anger (most of them aren't exactly healthy, but he means well)

he suggests writing a song together as a form of catharsis, spouting silly lyrics full of jabs at your "friends"

John would plan a date and take you out to the pictures to see a nice feel-good film

he records your favorite songs and some affirmations (as well as a few silly jokes) on cassette for you to listen to on particularly rough days

You know what? Screw 'em. You're too good for that kind of nonsense. You're a gem and anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve a spot in your life. It's their loss - not yours. Those so-called mates don't know what they're missing. And if you need me to kick some arse on your behalf, just say the word.

Paul

when you explain what's happened, Paul invites you to vent your frustrations over a few drinks or a cuppa

he adopts a gentle and reassuring tone, validating your emotions and reminding you of your strengths

he reassures you that what happened isn't your fault and that you've done nothing wrong

Paul would offer to arrange a small gathering or cozy night in with some friends and the other lads, complete with homemade food and lighthearted conversation

You invested a lot of trust and time in those relationships and you don't deserve to be hurt in such a way. It's beyond me how people can be so cruel, especially to someone as wonderful as you.True love, true friendship, they're built on a foundation of honesty and respect. Chin up, my dear. You're a beautiful soul with so much to offer. They're missing out on something truly special.

George

after you divulge what you've just been through, George shows you to a secluded spot - one where he often meditates - so you can vent in the privacy of nature and without feeling judged

has to tamp down his own frustration on your behalf - he knows people can be pretty unreliable, and he wants to guide you towards growth instead of resentment

he offers a reflective and philosophical perspective, telling you to have patience with yourself and set boundaries that honor your worth

he reminds you that sometimes these painful experiences can serve as catalysts for profound growth and self-discovery, and that karma has a way of taking care of things

George suggests exploring creative outlets and introduces you to some literature that will foster healing and help you take on a different perspective

Betrayal cuts deep, but it also reveals the true nature of those around us. You're not defined by the actions of others. The right people will be drawn to your radiance, and you're better off without that drama in your life. Trust that the universe has a way of aligning things in your favor and know that you're worthy of nothing less than genuine, unconditional love.

Ringo

as you vent your frustrations to Ringo, he offers a listening ear and shoulder to lean on without judgement

he provides constant reassurance and reminders of your worth and strength, making sure you know that the behavior of your "friends" says a lot more about them than it does about you

he tells you to focus on the present moment and emphasizes the importance relationship of self-care when it comes to healing

he'll lend his help with practical support such as running errands and helping with daily tasks, allowing you space to recover and take time for yourself

Ringo would suggest a spontaneous day trip or adventure to lift your spirits and create new memories

I know you've had a bit of a rough go lately, but you've got me to lean on. And I'm here to listen, to comfort, to support you in any way I can. You're strong, you're resilient, and you've got a whole lot of love to give. Rise above it - keep shining your light. Life's too short to give those pricks any more of your time. You're a treasure, love, and don't you forget it.

[incorrect-mtg]

A meeting in Korozda

One does not earn the moniker "Thousand-Eyed" by letting thing slip by. In the ruins and dark alleys of Ravnica's undercity, every bug is another potential set of eyes for her to keep track of those going through Golgari land. Which is why she noticed an anomaly immediately.

A hooded woman exploring the broken down ruins of Korozda wouldn't be a cause for alarm. It had almost become a familiar sight, after it was brought up to the surface. But this was no surface explorer carefully mapping their way: it was a local. One she quickly recognized.

The most noticeable thing, at first, was the lack of any signs of allegiance. In the wake of the invasion, the Swarm had broken down into my factions and each was quick to establish their own symbols to identify their presence. None of which the stranger carried on her. And then Izoni was able to get a look of her face. She looked human, but the height and facial structure were eerily familiar. The kind of details a cheap disguise wouldn't cover, particularly if there were more important things to hide.

So she followed and, at the right time, she struck.

She pushed her target against a wall, a knife on her throat and making sure her sight was blocked before calling on her swarm to follow. A tidal wave of insects and arachnids spread around them, covering the walls and the ground, their chittering and buzzing drowning all sound.

"You have a lot of gall, to return here" she says her knife digging into flesh "Give me a reason I shouldn't just kill you right now and feed you to my pets?"

A moment of silence, followed by a sigh, "I can't. Or at least if our roles were reversed, nothing would convince me."

In the blink of an eye the magical disguise is unmade, revealing distinctively organic scales and head tendrils.

"For what it's worth" Vraska says, eyes looked to the wall in front of her "I did not come here for a fight, Izoni."

"Oh? So what is this? A scouting mission? Doing some groundwork for the next invasion you will bring from beyond the Blind Eternities?" she asks, her pets increasing in loudness with her anger.

Through their eyes, she can see Vraska grimace and close her eyes.

"That wasn't me. As soon as I could, I fought the phyresis."

"How comforting. I'm sure the Simic would be interested in how you did it, even. Now, why are you here?" she insists, even as her mind connects some dots. Vraska had been the best of the Ochran. With access to disguise magic, if she'd wanted to go unnoticed, she'd have done it.

So she… Had let Izoni find her. This was a trap-

"I wanted to talk to you," Vraska replies, bringing her thoughts to a halt "how are the Golgari?"

"You… You came for ME. And that is your question?" she asks incredulously, her anger only growing when the answer is a nod.

"It will take generations for us to recover from all the deaths and compleations. Generations more for us to be a proper guild again" she says, her anger winning out against the knowledge she should not be talking to the gorgon any longer "millenia of knowledge are gone for good, there are literal species of Kraul that you helped eradicate. You want to know how the Golgari are? We are broken. We are a nest you covered in phyrexian oil and set on fire."

As she rants, she see Vraska is deliberately holding back any reaction. It only makes her angrier.

"Thank you," Vraska says once she is done, in a tone Izoni might even call meek "One last question… Do you have any hope? For the Golgari?"

Izoni sneers in response. She almost wants to say no, because that is how she feels sometimes. But she is nothing if not prideful.

"The Golgari are dead" she says "but death's never stopped us, and that isn't about to change now"

"Good" Vraska answers, before taking a deep breath "take care of them, Izoni. Be better than me or Jarad. You won't have to worry about me again."

Then she nods and everything goes wrong.

Izoni feels an attack against her mind only a moment before it breaks through, using her own magic to disperse her swarm. Her thoughts grow cloudy.

"You won't remember we were here" Vraska says, finally able to turn and look her in the eyes "Good luck. Goodbye Izoni… Goodbye Ravnica."

Those are the last words Izoni hear before she falls asleep.

[everythingmp3]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✧

adult!Van x fem!reader (smut)

you´ve been dating Van for a while and a heated argument turns into something else, when you can’t hide that her rage is kind of a turn on.

minors dni. warnings: bottom!reader, fingering, slight degradation/domination

(disclaimer: a little longer/more plot, inspired by the few outbursts we see from Van in the show, hate sex if you wanna call it that but also more to it. anyway, I hope it conveys the vibe i was going for! enjoy xx)

fights were a rare occurrence for you and Van. you could count on one hand the amount of times you´d actually gotten loud with each other, but there was a through-line with all the fights, the same issue connecting them all: Van refusing to let you in. there were moments when you could tell that something had triggered a memory in her, which made her shut down completely but she refused to talk about it or accept help. she´d brush it off, isolate, leave you guessing, and it ate away at you every time. it was not something that happened often, but that night it just rubbed you the wrong way and it escalated to a fight. you were standing in the living room, she was by the counter in the kitchen nook, both of you pretty riled up at that point, arguing from across the room.

"you don´t tell me shit, Van, ever! I have told you everything about myself, all of it, yet you don´t tell me anything!" you said, visibly pissed off, she shook her head, eyes intense, hands grabbing the counter for support, "that´s not true. i tell you things all the time".

"you know what i fucking mean, not the things that matter! not the reason you sometimes get that look and space out and get all strange for an entire night. how do you think that makes me feel, to not be trusted with any of it?".

"it´s not about trust, i´ve said this a million times! it´s about protecting you, not dragging you into it!" she yelled, arms gesturing wildly, you just scoffed at that, "bullshit, that´s bullshit Van, i am grown, i can take it and you know it. that´s a lame excuse for your inconsiderate way of shutting me out" you were tired of the same old argument.

she got even louder then, "you have no idea what you´re fucking talking about. the kind of shit i am dealing with, that´s not for you to know, okay, it´s better this way."

"you seem to have no idea what´s better for me"

"oh really?" a sudden quietness to her tone that somehow sounded more threatening, she went over to you then, getting closer. "you think i´m wrong? you wanna know about all the fucking horror in my head? you think that´s what you need from me?", she was almost backing you against the wall then, her eyes burning into yours, her stance solid and unmoving, her chest visibly flushed from the anger. you nodded, challenging her.

"yeah? okay, you asked for it", she became spiteful, it all bubbled up in her then, "what detail do you need, huh? that i survived those 19 months in the woods by fucking eating people, friends, teammates, that i did that", you were staring at her then, your eyes fixed on hers, breath shallow, she was seething, "that they weren´t all natural deaths, that we we hunted them like animals, that we set traps, that we turned into fucking monsters out there, that i know the look of human flesh so well, that i get nauseous when i cut my finger. that´s what you wanna hear, yeah? that i was a brutal evil person, that i am scared i might still be? you happy now?" the pain in her voice was just as strong as her anger then, and all you could do was stare at her, take it all in, the sight of her overflowing with everything she´d left unsaid for so many years, her body practically on fire. in that moment, it struck you, all at once, how her strong deep voice, her attempt to corner and intimidate you, the animalistic look in her eyes, her unusual meanness; it was so different to her usual sweet way with you, that it stirred something deep inside of you. it wasn´t intentional, it just happened, your body, a sudden visceral need, a primal kind of pull towards her. you were trying to mask it but not very successfully, at first she mistook your wide eyes and shallow breath for fear, but then, she noticed it, she knew your body too well not to sense the shift, she shook her head in disbelief, leaning closer to you.

"are you fucking turned on right now?" she hissed, her eyes unrelenting, searching your face for an answer you weren´t willing to give, "you are, aren´t you? fucking hell. here i am eaten up by guilt because i am being a bitch to you and you´re getting off on it??" she was at a loss, she expected disgust, fear, shock, but not that, not the look on your face that you usually gave her when you were extremely desperate for her. "oh, so now you can´t talk back anymore, yeah?" she came even closer then, close enough to make you fully back against the wall, her breath so close you could feel it on your lips, trying not to make a sound, initially she was baffled, then something crept up in her: satisfaction. she realized she had the upper hand, which was delicious after a fight where she felt cornered, you could see it in her eyes, the switch, and you knew you were fucked.

"speak." she demanded in a stern tone, hands on your arms then, pinning you to the wall, it was horrible how hard it was not to moan just from that, your voice wavering as you returned her gaze, "i told you, i can take it.", you did it on purpose and she knew it, that way of wording it, rubbing it in her face, the repetition of earlier words suggestive then because the air was so charged, she pushed even closer to you then, fingers digging into your wrists, restraining you, "oh yeah? is that what you wanted all along? for me to be brutal and make you take it?" emphasis on the last words, almost a kind of disdain in there, "careful what you wish for" she said before pushing her knee up between your legs in one hard motion, making immediate contact with your pelvis, a sensation so violently arousing you let out a pathetic moan, wincing from it, she kept her knee there, not moving an inch, but you were stubborn, trying hard to not give her what she wanted, stifling the other sounds that were forming in your throat, so she moved her knee up against your most sensitive area through the fabric, you were whining then, breaking, losing your composure second by second, a slight grin on her face, not a generous one.

"fucking slut" the word hitting you across the face, she was not into degrading you, quite the opposite, the list of sweet names she called you during sex endless, so the harsh tone as she spat that out made you even more dizzy with heat, with the need for her to just have her way, and by that point she was deeply into the dynamic of it all, not truly angry anymore but riled up, willing to be rough, if that was what it was going to take to make you fold. you tried leaning forward to kiss her, but she let go of one of your hands and put her forearm across your chest, pressing you into the wall to keep you from doing something tender, shaking her head "i don´t think so", you were begging her then, "please just.." , an intense expression on her face as she groped your tits pretty hard, forcing more whining out of you, making you surrender, "jesus fuck i´m sorry okay".

you crying those words out softened her a little but she could tell you weren´t actually trying to apologize, you were just desperate to have her fuck you, which she couldn´t deny, so she wasted no time, "what´s that, i didn´t hear you?" she teased, as she took advantage of the fact that you´d already showered and changed, just loose sweatpants and no underwear in the way, her cold hand on your cunt in one second, a sharp breath in from you at the contact, "fuck you" you uttered, not very convincingly, shutting your eyes, she was only pushed further by that, "oh okay I see" she leaned forward, her hot breath on your cheek then, as she felt how wet you were, practically leaking, not even needing to push her fingers between your lips to feel it slick against her skin, usually she´d be gentle but in that moment she couldn´t be, pushing two of her fingers all the way into you without warning, no mercy, a loud cry escaping you then, immediately thrusting her fingers into you repeatedly, while still having you pinned against the wall, her breath ragged against your skin, her voice low and sultry, "this is what you wanted, isn´t it?".

Van was enjoying it, the power, there was a slight pain from her relentless motion but it just added to your arousal, you´d gotten soaked enough for it to feel good, the sudden change from zero to a hundred, your moans almost pornographic then, your walls throbbing around her knuckles, she leaned down, not to kiss you but to leave bites all over your shoulder, your neck, teeth digging in just enough to drive you insane, "fuck Van" you kept pleading, as she was doing her best to push you towards an orgasm, hitting the right spot, doing so with more force than usual, not wanting you to savor it but to be overwhelmed by it, pleasure as punishment, something like that, your hands were free to move again by that point, so your nails were digging into her back hard as you were chest to chest, she had no words left in her as she felt you cumming against her fingers, increasingly turned on herself, mind blank, groaning so close to your ear it just made you finish even harder, her fingers not slowing dow at all while you felt your whole body shaking, once your grip on her loosened she finally let you go, backing away from the wall, panting, her hand cramped up at that point, collecting her thoughts as you almost collapsed to the floor because your legs were done for, so you stumbled over to the couch, falling down against the cushions, exhausted.

the second Van turned and saw you resting there like that, she felt a wave of guilt rushing over herself, she was coming back to her senses and it hit her like a ton of bricks; that all you were trying to do during the fight was to get close to her, that all you ever fought her on was her unwillingness to let you be there for her during her darkest moments. you were younger than her, yet more patient, more emotionally available, which made her feel awful all of a sudden. she walked over to sit down next to you, giving you some space for a moment, the two of you just sitting there in silence, until she turned to you, reaching for your hand, her voice soft and quiet:

"hey, listen. I think I owe you an apology." you shook your head, "it´s fine really don´t-" she interrupted, "no, no i do. you weren´t saying anything crazy, it obviously just hit a nerve because it was true. i should be grateful you want to help me. sorry, really. i´m fucking stupid sometimes." a faint smile from you then, you slowly climbed over to her, half on her lap then, hands in her hair, "it´s fine. you know, i just wanted to make it clear, that nothing you could say or reveal about your life would make me leave you, ever. but i get that it´s hard to talk about it, so i´m sorry if i forced something out of you." her hands on your back then, under your shirt, caressing you as she stared up at you, enjoying the feeling of your fingers pushing her hair back, "stop that, you´re being too sweet, i don´t deserve that right now, not after all that..", you grinned then, amused "right, after calling me a slut", Van shook her head,"god don´t even-", you laughed then, "didn´t know you had all that in you", she was glad you weren´t truly hurt by it, joking about it, her gaze fell to a spot on your shoulder where she´d left a rather prominent bite mark, "jesus christ i really need to get a grip" one of her fingers tracing it, you shook your head, grinning, "oh, that part you don´t have to apologize for. I think it´s hot when you get like that. as you clearly realized and took advantage of", nudging her as you said this, she smiled then, "i did like seeing that look on your face" she admitted, a grin, "but don´t get used to it, i like this much better", leaning in and placing a tender kiss on your shoulder, your neck, pulling your face down to lazily press her lips against your cheek, your temple, your forehead, hearing you sigh softly, pulling away after a while to face you again.

"trying to make up for something there, Palmer?" you teased, hands on her neck, she eyed you, head tilted to the side, smiling, just taking in the view of your flushed face, "i think i can do better than that if i´m really trying to make it up to you", you raised your eyebrows, "oh yeah?", she nodded, hands on your waist then, pulling you closer, "yes. I´ll have to get on my knees to really deserve forgiveness, don´t you think?", your eyes wide then, impressed by her sudden smoothness, "i won´t stop you from trying", your lovestruck eyes giving away that she was of course already forgiven, feeling her shift from underneath you, pulling you up, "come on then, let´s go to bed" a gentle squeeze on your hand, making you realize that her being rough had its appeal, but would never compare to the feeling of her being all sweet and loving.

it didn´t fail to make her emotional that night; the realization that you truly did not care about what she´d shared with you, that you still saw her as just as worthy of your love as before. it would lead to her spoiling you even more the days and weeks after, if that was even possible.

[justdontaskme]

Fights All Around (Patri Guijarro x Reader)

A/N: Long time no see. Got another fic here from a prompt a while back. Not sure if I followed through fully with the ask, but hope it’s still good.

Things have been tense between you and Alexia for the past few days. Most of the team tried to stay out of the drama, but it seems as if things were getting worse between the two of you as the silent treatment slowly evolved into micro-aggressions of shoving and snide comments targeted at one another. 

It was strange for the team because no one knew what had happened between the two of you. One day you were two peas in a pod, staying late to work on shots and set plays together. But then the next day, it's as if you couldn't get far enough away from each other. 

No one asked what was wrong. Your teammates knew better than to get in the middle of a sisterly squabble. Besides, they figured that things would work themselves out in a matter of hours. It usually did. However, it’s almost been a week now and it didn't seem like there was any light at the end of the tunnel. 

Even the upcoming game couldn’t get the two of you to reconcile. Luckily for the team, though, you and Alexia were good at putting differences aside while playing. 

When you and Alexia were on the field together, it was magical. Even when the two of you weren’t seeing eye to eye off the pitch, nothing could destroy the chemistry on it. The two of you were just so in sync, knowing what the other was thinking without saying anything. It's what made the two of you a deadly force to reckon with. 

The opposing team’s strategy for winning this game was quite clear from the get go. Divide and conquer. They immediately threw bodies your way, keeping you from working with Alexia.

At first it was mainly to overwhelm, but it quickly grew physical. Unfortunately for you, you had been the one on the receiving end of many tackles. Each tackle was getting more reckless, and you knew you’d be waking up to countless bruises littered across your body from the hard landings and nasty collisions. And throughout all of this, not a single foul was called in your favor. 

It was nearing the end of the game when all hell broke loose. Between you and your sisters, you were always the hotheaded one, lashing out quickly before apologizing later. Sometimes your emotions just get the better of you.

So when an opposing defender came in deliberately shoved you from behind to keep you from advancing with the ball, you were over it. After a rather hard landing, you shot up from the ground, stomping to the player who had just taken you down. Without an ounce of remorse, you roughly shoved the girl, tripping her up and having her land flat on her ass. 

Now that she was vulnerable, you hovered over the girl, shouting in her face about the cheap shot and how tired you were of her nonsense. You saw her try to get back up, but you immediately pushed her back down. There was still a lot you had to get out. 

You felt a few hands on your shoulders trying to pull you back, but you brushed them off. When some of the opposing team's players tried shoving you away from their teammate, you found yourself lunging at them. 

Your assault was put on pause when you felt a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, physically lifting you and walking you away from the altercation. That didn’t stop you though. You struggled in your captor’s arms, still yelling at the other team for not playing fair. 

Quickly, more of your teammates crowded you, creating a wall between you and the other team before things could get worse. 

Almost instantly, your girlfriend was standing in front of you. Patri cradled your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her. “Querida, let it go, please,” she said, “If you don’t calm down, they’ll take you out of the game.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall backwards into your teammate who had managed to drag you from the chaos. With Patri's guidance, you took deep breaths in, the anger still brewing inside you but much less than before. Eventually, your body sagged, your willingness to fight leaving you for the moment. 

Lucy’s arms were still around your waist from behind since she had literally grabbed you and walked you away from the altercation. Her hold had loosened, but she was still hesitant to let you go, just in case you decided to go back in. With a subtle nod of your head and a silent promise to stop fighting, she released you. 

Patri quickly wrapped you in her arms, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head. “You’re okay,” she whispered to you.

Surprisingly, after all of that, you had only managed to earn a yellow card, considering it was only your first warning of the game. You decided to thank your lucky stars and not argue with the ref for the rest of the game. You had no idea that during the entire fiasco, Alexia and Irene had gone and pleaded your case. 

The pace of the game slowed down considerably, especially after Aitana managed to slot one in, putting the team up by one goal. This allowed you to sit further back in the field, keeping any other physical attacks from taking place. 

Once the final whistle blew, you let your shoulders fall. You took deep breaths, begging your burning lungs to take in the oxygen and relieve the pressure you felt in you with every inhale. 

Despite the win, you couldn't find it in yourself to be courteous to the players who had it out for you the entire game. While you no longer wanted to fight, you still were in a sour mood. Normally, you’d just chalk it up to no hard feelings because it was just a game, but not today. You avoided all of them, even bypassing some of your teammates who came to check up on you. 

Everyone steered clear of you as you sat down in a random spot on the field, shielding yourself from the crowd as your head fell between your bent knees. You forced yourself to continue taking deep breaths in and slowly letting them out, hoping that the anger would dissipate with each exhale. 

All you wanted was to expel all these feelings, so you weren't tempted to take them out on your friends, but somehow your sister didn't seem to get the hint to leave you alone. Instead she came over to you, grabbing your arms rather harshly and yanking you from the ground. She was fuming and you were not in the mood to try to placate her. 

“What were you thinking?” Alexia demanded, her eyes narrowed, her nostrils slightly flared as she stared you down. 

“Just leave me alone, Ale,” you grumbled, brushing her off and turning towards the locker room. 

No such luck. Your older sister spun you around, forcing you to face her. “That was so unnecessary. Why are you always trying to start fights?”

Many of your teammates started to congregate around the two of you, still keeping a distance, with the exception of Patri. Your girlfriend carefully took a spot by your side, waiting to intervene if necessary. 

“I didn’t start that!” you shouted indignantly, the volume of your voice raising slightly. “They were all over me the entire game. You saw it!”

“That doesn’t make it okay for you to go knocking people around. Grow up, already,” Alexia grumbled, standing right in front of your face, ignoring the hand on her chest from Patri, physically keeping the older girl from getting too close. 

“I get it. I’m not perfect. What do you want from me?” your voice desperate, the emotional toll from the last couple of days really coming into play. 

"We have to be better than that," Alexia reminded you. 

For some reason it was your sister’s use of we that set you off. Like she was lumping the two of you together. In the back of your mind, you knew she meant no harm from it, but after the week you had of arguing with her nonstop and the crazy game that just took place, rationality was the furthest thing from your mind. 

"I'm not you, Ale! I only know how to screw everything up, right?" You shouted at her, your pent up emotions getting the better of you. “I don’t know how to be great unless I do everything you tell me to do.”

That started to lay the clues in your teammates mind as to what the two of you were angry about this entire time. They were quite surprised by this revelation because you two are normally really close and most times you idolized Alexia, asking for her advice in navigating your professional career. 

As you took a look around, your teammates were staring at you with mixed looks of concern, worry, and maybe a few of the pitiful ones you hated. Their stares quickly became too much as you took off in a sprint to the locker room, needing to be away from here as soon as possible. 

Patri made to go after you, but was stopped by Aitana who said to give you a moment to yourself. Your best friend knew how overwhelmed you could get and how crowding you was not in anyone’s best interest. 

Your teammates were stuck in their place, watching as you ran off the field. Alexia looked stricken, as if her words and actions were finally catching up to her. Seeing the look on your face just before you ran away, that was not something she’d want to see again. 

As your older sister, she was meant to look out for you, protect you, but instead she had pushed you away. Immediately guilt filled her body, and shame followed right after when she saw how her teammates had turned their attention to her. 

She had failed you. 

When everyone eventually returned to the locker room, they found your space cleared out, meaning you had already left, which worried them. Patri immediately grabbed her phone, calling you multiple times but getting sent straight to voicemail every time. She texted you, hoping for an answer but even those went unanswered. 

After everyone had showered and changed, a search party had been gathered. They began pairing off and narrowing down the places you were most likely to be. Just as they were about to take off, Patri had received a text from you. 

I’m fine. Just need a moment to myself. 

While it didn’t exactly instill a lot of confidence in her, she knew to give you some space. She told you to call her if you needed anything and also made you promise to check in every now and then until you were back home safe. 

****

Hours later, Patri and Irene are roused from their rooms in their shared apartment by a loud series of knocks. They are instantly out of their rooms, congregating in the hall leading to their front door where the incessant knocking was coming from. 

The two players looked at one another confused and slightly terrified by the desperation as the knocking got louder and quicker.

Patri approached carefully, peeking into the peep hole before stepping back and swinging the door open immediately. Her hand reached out, dragging you into the apartment. 

Irene gasped as she took in the dried blood all over your face. There was a cut from your eyebrow, the beginnings of black eye forming, and a split lip. Your clothes were a mess and your hair was sticking out every which way. 

"What happened?"

Neither girl was surprised when you had stayed quiet, your mind shutting down in front of people familiar to you. Instead, you just walked into Patri’s body, resting your head on her collarbone as you waited for her hands to wrap themselves around you. 

Your girlfriend began whispering sweet words into your ear, trying to get you to open up, but it wasn’t doing much. Patri looked up and made eye contact with Irene. The two of them had a silent conversation before the young midfielder was leading you to the bathroom to clean you up. 

As gently as she could, Patri lifted you and placed you carefully on the counter by the sink. She went digging around for the first aid kit as you sat there quietly, fiddling with your fingers and avoiding eye contact. 

That’s when Patri noticed how bad your knuckles were, which led her to believe that you had gotten into another fight since she had seen you last. 

"You know that you have to be more careful, querida," Patri reminded you softly, her touch gentle as she helped wipe the dried blood off your face. 

"I know," your head fell in shame, hating that you had gone and disappointed everyone again. “I know.”

Those were the first words you had spoken since arriving at your girlfriend's apartment and they were also the last. 

She disinfected all of your wounds before bandaging them. Once that was finished, Patri lifted you up and carried you to her room. After tucking you under the blankets, Patri temporarily left the room to grab you some water. 

“Call Alexia,” Patri told Irene. 

“I already did,” Irene said, her hand on her head as she tried to think about how they’ve all come to this. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Patri answered honestly. “She’ll heal, but I’m worried because she won’t tell me anything. I don’t know how to help her if she won’t talk to me.”

“You’re doing exactly what you should be doing,” Irene told her. “Just be there for her. She’ll talk eventually.”

Patri nodded her head, walking back to her room with the determination to be whatever you needed from her. 

****

Less than an hour later, Alexia was frantically pounding on the door to Patri and Irene’s apartment. Irene opened the door to let the other woman in. 

"Where is she?" Alexia asked, rushing into the room, her head on a swivel as she searched for any sign of you. 

Irene carefully grabbed her friend's arm, turning her around. "Alexia, calm down, please."

The two of them waited until Alexia's breathing was under better control and her mind a little more clear. 

"What happened?"

The defender shrugged, "We don't know. She hasn't said anything about it."

"Is she okay?" Alexia asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. From Irene’s tone over the phone, things did not look good and Alexia felt like there was no one to blame but herself. 

"Patri is taking care of her. They're in her room right now," Irene replied, tilting her head in the direction of where you were. 

Alexia thanked her friend before heading to Patri's room. She knocked lightly, peering inside when she thought she heard a voice inside. As the midfielder walked into the room, she could literally feel her heart drop into her stomach.

On the bed, you were laying half on top of Patri, eyes staring off in the distance as she was reading a book to you. Without taking her eyes off the book, Patri waved your sister in, motioning to the other side of the bed.

As Alexia approached, she got a better look at you. She took note of your injuries, filing them away in her head to clean and care for later. The closer she got to you, the more clear the finer details became. She noticed how you were clutching Patri harder than normal, as if you were afraid your girlfriend would leave. 

Carefully, Alexia slipped into the bed on your other side, one hand rubbing your back up and down. She smiled fondly as she noticed your features relaxing just slightly at the movement. But other than that, there was no other reaction to her presence. 

You continued to lie there motionless, eyes more focused on the wall than anything else, the sound of your girlfriend’s voice lulling you into a trance of sorts. For the next thirty minutes or so, the three of you sat in place, continuing on with everything you were previously doing. 

Once Patri finished the chapter, she placed the book back on her bedside table, careful not to rouse you too much. Instead, she adjusted her body so you both could be more comfortable. 

Between the three of you nothing was said, the quiet settling in the room as you all waited for someone to break the ice. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, just quiet, each of you playing with your thoughts and imagining the possible outcomes of this talk. 

“What happened?” Alexia asked softly, afraid of breaking the tranquility. 

Silence followed the question, but you all knew you were going to answer. It was just going to take a second. 

“I got into a fight at Leo’s bar," you finally managed, your voice small as you curled in on yourself. Well as much as you could while still mostly laying on your girlfriend. 

"Did you win?" Patri asked, earning a slap to the back of her head from your sister. 

"Do not encourage her," Alexia reprimanded the younger midfielder. 

"Security broke it up," you answered. 

"Y/N-" Alexia started to say, but getting cut off by you. 

"Don't worry, Leo said he'll take care of it. No one will know," you said, face still dejected as you could only imagine the disappointment on Alexia's face. 

"That's not what I was going to say," Alexia sighed, hating that your first reaction was to correct or explain instead of expressing what was going on in your head. Yes, your sister was glad that things were taken care of discreetly, but she wanted to know what led to the fight and if you were okay both physically and mentally. 

Right now, she hated that you felt like you couldn’t just talk to her. But she left it at that for the moment. In times like these, it was better not to push and let you offer as much as you were willing to. In the days following, things will start to make much more sense. 

With the lull in the conversation, Alexia decided now was the best time to do what she’s been wanting to do since she saw you walk off, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” You said, reaching behind you to grab your sister’s hand, holding it in yours. “You never have to apologize to me.”

Alexia literally could have cried at that moment. She and Alba always joked that you were the ticking time bomb in the family. You had the shortest temper, but you probably also had the biggest heart of them all. 

“You might not think I have to, but I want to,” Alexia said, squeezing your hand firmly. “You are my baby sister and I should be protecting you, not tearing you down. We can fight and argue, but we always have each other’s back.”

In response, you squeezed her hand, and that was it. Your thoughts haven’t settled in your mind enough to voice them. So you continued in autopilot mode, trying to draw comfort in your girlfriend’s steady breath and your sister’s protective presence. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I know that I’m hard on you,” Alexia began, understanding that you probably weren’t going to be saying anything else about the fight at the bar for the rest of the night.  “It’s just, I know how this world can be and I don’t want people to have any reason to be mean and tear you down. I was only trying to protect you by trying to keep you from making any of the mistakes I made. I wasn’t trying to rule your life. I didn’t realize what I was doing to you in the process.”

"I don't know how to be like you, Ale," you told her, eyes still drawn to the patterns you were drawing on your girlfriend's stomach. "That's not me, and I hate disappointing everyone when I fall short of expectations."

"I don't want you to be me. I want you to be better,” Alexia said, scooting just a bit closer to you on the bed. “You are the best of us.” 

Those words coming from her meant more than you could explain. You could literally feel tears welling up in your eyes. 

"Thank you," you choked out, starting to feel your body fully relax.

Finally, all the events today crept up on you. In a few short minutes, you were snoring softly against Patri's chest, Alexia's one hand wrapped up in one of yours. 

Patri ran her hand through your hair, a smile on her face now that you have finally let your body heal itself. 

"Patri," Alexia called. The young midfielder turned to your sister curiously. "Thank you for taking care of her."

"You don't have to thank me. I know she'd do the same thing for me," Patri said, kissing your head. 

And while you were sleeping your girlfriend and your sister sat there grateful you were okay and feeling lucky that they had someone like you in their lives. 

[cienie-isengardu]

Mortal Kombat 1 Behind the Scenes AU: Brothers between filming (5) - the last ice cream

Author's note: I have this headcanon that cryomancers do not eat cooked or fried food and generally prefer cold things. So naturally the ice creams are the favorite/comfort food for them. But since it is hot summer Kuai Liang (and most likely every member of film set) sometimes just eat all of them and then must face Bi-Han's wrath. For Kuai Liang being grounded usually means helping Sektor over the Lin Kuei's place, something he is never too happy about 🤣. If you wonder about Smoke, then well, Tomas is simply better at stealth, so he is less likely to be caught by Bi-Han 🤣

[Cage’s Mansion] [Waiting for Liu Kang] [Special Bonus] [Grandmaster’s commentary] [Climbing scene] [Madam Bo’s Inn] [Cage’s Mansion 2 (fire extinguisher)] [Medic] [Shang Tsung’s sad face] [Smoke’s Fall] [Scenography (1)] [Scenography (2)] [Show off!] [Favorite brother] [Climbing on the wall (nonsense)] [Tomas’ commentary] [Perfectly fine] [Sexy, sexy man~♪] [Brothers between filming - Scenography(3)] [Wrong team!] [Since when you two are friends?!] [I like being evil sorcerer more] [I forgot my line, sorry!] [Read the script Kuai!] [Get. Lost.] [Dating] [Permission] [Why date a punk like him…] [Panic (Mom is visiting)] [Decapitation then] [Deep in trouble (Mom is visiting #2)] [Cultural differences (paid leave)] [Why date a punk like him… (Lin Kuei Mom)] [Why date a punk like him… (General Shao)] [Stop closing your eyes!] [There is never a god around when you need one] [(Over)protective brothers, p. 1 - upset Tomas] [(Over)protective brothers, p. 2 - Control your anger] [(Over)protective brothers, p. 3 - the perfect solution] [A mother knows best, p.1] [A mother knows best, p.2] [Good at multitasking] [One moron to save] [(Over)protective brothers, p. 4 - BUT ARE YOU SURE?] [It’s bad enough there is three Shang Tsungs + BONUS] [Tolerate, maybe] [Losers. I’m Lin Kuei + bonus] [Shao learns about Paid Leave (p. 1)] [Not paid enough for this nonsense…] [Brothers between filming (4)]

[windvexer]

Hi, I hope you are not too busy lately. May I ask for advice ? When it comes to hexing, I heard someone advising to but the remains of the ritual as far away as possible from the house (I can't but the remains of the spell near the targets house but I can put it away). But I also remember reading that one should keep the remains of the spell in case something goes wrong. Is it dangerous to keep the remains of a hex inside my house or would it better to keep it ?

Ooo! Resolving conflicting magical information, are we? :D Love it.

Short answer:

Longer answer:

IMO, both of these plans of action are predicated on some assumptions.

Taking the remains of a hex very far away from the home (and sometimes, as you mention, ideally near the target) is, from what I've seen, generally done by witches who are pretty much fuckin' done and are washing their hands of the situation.

Hex-casting is often an intensely emotional experience and can feel like a deep 'purge' on the part of the practitioner, a bloodletting of the poison within the practitioner to flow downhill to the person who, as far as the witch is concerned, ought to host it instead.

When the experience of the hexcasting is one of purification of rage, a practitioner may just want to get the fuck rid of the spellcasting remnants and get on with their life.

This is not an amagical action. Inasmuch as your magic probably should make you feel really good about the world you live in, your life, and your actions, deciding to be completely over it and get rid of spell remnants can be deeply magical, both in the personal and metaphysical sense.

Another reason people like to get rid of hex remnants is because they can reek of that nasty soul stank you've just bled out all over into the world, and hanging out with them can be uncomfortable and bring up unwanted emotions.

Fortunately, witches gonna witch, and if you desire to keep spell remnants without them leaking all over your nice life, there are many methods to contain and control magical objects.

All that being said, do I find that keeping hex remnants is actually dangerous? Well, no. I find it to be uncomfortable. They remind of of anger and injustice and all the bad things I felt that made me want to do it in the first place. "Negative vibes" spilling out into your environment isn't dangerous so much as it is a bit icky.

If we take a moment here, we should consider that most probably, the average hex should not be so dangerous that the spent spell remnants are actively generating danger for any random person who comes into contact with them.

I mean... do what you want to other people, I suppose. But if you are casting spells in such a way that they are so powerful and tumultuous that the little blob of burned candle wax or whatever is constantly generating harmful, dangerous effects even within a magically protected household, idk. Probably do just get rid of it at that point. Or try new spellcasting methods. Etc.

On the topic of needing to keep spell remnants so you can continually work over the spell, it's a decent option, but also:

On a personal level I'm not sure why you'd go out of your way to try and harm someone with magic, and then keep the remnants to make sure it's doing the exact kind of harm you want in foreseeable ways. Either get after 'em or don't, you know?

You can still influence and control prior spells you've cast even if you do not have the spell remnants.

Overall I really think that you should just do what makes you comfortable. I don't think you should feel obligated to hold on to hex remnants just because something hypothetically might happen down the road. If things can go to far you can do a reverse uno on your own magic and cast new spells to help.

On the other hand, if you feel like it's a good idea to keep the remnants around, set up a magical situation that safely holds these remnants in "jail" so you don't have to worry about the vibes leaking out into your house.

[None of this takes into account spells that dictate something specific must happen to materia magica, etc.]

[feybeasts]

Bit of advice for y’all from someone who learned this all too late.

Learn to be kind when someone commits a minor faux pas. If someone is too forward or makes you uncomfortable or says something that comes off as rude, if they make a mistake or do something that is… wrong but a product of ignorance, not malice, don’t just… drop the hammer on them. People don’t learn that way, and while it’s not your job to educate strangers, sometimes just a gentle correction will well and truly end it then and there.

Online, it feels like we’re all too quick to jump to wanting to destroy people, drive them away from our sight if they wrong us, and while the block button exists for a reason and should be applied judiciously, vindictiveness sets in so often, people get dogpiled, absolutely crushed, and I truly feel we have so little understanding of what that can DO to a person who, genuinely, could have been having a bad day or said something out of ignorance.

I’m not calling for everyone to be all hold-hands-and-sing buddy-buddy, that bird don’t fly, and real, honest malice exists out there, but always being on the defensive, always feeling like if someone slights you, you need to CRUSH them, it… takes a toll.

I spent a lot of my years, even years of recovery, feeling this… deep, hot rage at the back of my mind, always ready to strike out at people who wronged me, to just stamp out a problem before anyone could hurt me again. And you know what that made me?

Angry. Bitter. Tired.

It’s only now, looking back, that I feel like some part of the person I am now is… scorched, almost. Hollowed out by flames and fury, reduced somewhat. I try to be a kinder person, I feel I just don’t get up in arms about little things anymore, but all those years of anger, they took a part of me away that I’ll never get back. An energy, a vigor, something I can’t quite place.

A lot of you are young- you still have time to let go, to find peace within yourselves and to ground yourself in what is real and what you can love. Please- for your own sakes- try to nurture that part of you. Don’t feed the flames if you can help it.

Keep yourself warm, folks. But don’t burn down the person you are.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s1 episode 12 thoughts

another episode that had me. STRESSED. OUT.

first of all... the episode being about an irish guy who sets the british aristocracy on fire... the insensitivity there is fascinating. the 90's really were a time, huh?

second of all this phoebe is very pretty and very bold to kiss mulder right in front of scully. i was shocked. and it kept getting more and more shocking! (shoutout to scully for averting her gaze when they kissed. a respectful coworker!)

and the whispered "she hates me" from phoebe and tiny waves goodbye while otherwise entirely ignoring scully's presence... yeah this is sick psychological torment

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! he's terrified of fire! and this ex wants to get him involved on an arson case! what could go wrong? (seriously though why does he want to do this. why wasn't there another person who could take this case. i'm seeing no appeal to getting involved)

AND he leaves scully to go attend to this nonsense. betrayal.

! FURTHER MULDER LORE REVEAL ! the two broke up because she cheated on him which is revealed in the same breath as the fact that they hooked up on arthur conan doyle's grave. i will be doing my best to not psychoanalyze that and then failing. how can i look him in the eye with this knowledge.

(i think they're going for a sherlock-irene parallel here but counterpoint: i don't like it)

<3 <3 <3 scully in glasses... think my heart skipped a beat <3 <3 <3

this whole thing was soooo sick and twisted. when phoebe said "i've booked a hotel for the night" (cut to mulder in deep distress) that was evil

(also scully calling and saying she had something important and he completely blew her off... only for her to show up anyway... queen shit she literally said idgaf i'll solve ur case for you dumbass)

i'd actually like to copy out what i wrote in my notes verbatim for this next part:

"Mulder in a suit Phoebe in a backless dress. Tension is palpable oh they're dancing. SCULLY WALKED IN ON YHAT WJAT THEBHELL OH THEYREKISSING WHAT THE HELL OH SHW'S ROLLING HER EYESAT THIS OH SHE JUMPED IN"

i think that speaks for itself

but in case it DOESN'T: scully pacing outside watching them dance and kiss was distressing to me. i will reblog many gifs of this when i find them eventually. free her from this situation y'all she did NOT deserve it. luckily a fire provided an excuse to make her presence known.

when mulder was scared to go into the fire and then he passed out and then he pushed scully's hand away while she was shifting into Doctor Mode... nearly screamed. he resists the tenderness offered to him.

and then cutscene to him waking up in bed shirtless and she's there offering him water! phoebe brings him into this fire- his worst fear- and the symbolism of scully bringing him WATER!

and YET the first thing he does is: ASK FOR PHOEBE! MULDER I CANNOT KEEP MAKING EXCUSES FOR YOU (phoebe once again entirely ignores scully beyond a quick goodbye the commitment to pettiness is remarkable)

then he shows up to save the family from being lit on fire and phoebe is kissing the dad. muldershockedpikachuface.jpg (was anyone surprised. raise ur hand if u saw this coming)

but he jumped into the fire to go save the children!!! because he needs to be a hero and conquer his fears!!

i think scully had a very raw end of the deal this episode and when she knocked on his door pretending to be phoebe and asked in a british accent if he was going to buy her lunch. well. she had a good spirit about the whole thing. it's important for her to be mean to him sometimes.

during this episode i fell victim to exactly what i knew the screenwriters were doing, purposefully provoking anger in the viewer through an outrageous ex that also served as character exposition in revealing mulder's background. but once again this episode proves that dana scully deserves the world for putting up with this nonsense and somehow still choosing to have a positive attitude. give her a raise and a vacation.

[drewsbuzzcut]

Meeting The Brothers

Warnings: mentions sex and alcohol consumption (this is short and unedited sorry! The jealous barzy blurb should be better)

“I still can’t believe you have 3 brothers and I’m meeting all of them right now… at the same time,” Mat exasperates in the driver’s seat of his car.

You reach out to caress the back of his neck, a wry smile on your face. You sort of feel bad for having your boyfriend meet all of your brothers at once, but it’s just better to rip off that bandaid.

“It’ll be okay, hotshot. You’re Mathew Barzal, star hockey player. If anything, they’re probably going to be intimidated by you,” you try to assure him, but you’re so wrong; you just don’t know it yet.

-

“So what’re your intentions with our sister?” Your oldest brother, Nate, asks. He doesn’t hold back his annoyance towards Mat and you feel your stomach start to sink.

Mat goes to answer, but is interrupted by your youngest brother, Michael.

“Just because you’re some hockey player, doesn’t mean that we’ll look past the fact that you’re 5 years older than our little sister.”

You gasp in shock, because you truly weren’t expecting this interaction.

“Mikey, cut it out. There are no intentions like you’re insinuating. We’re in love, our age gap has nothing to do with anything,” you snap.

You can feel your blood start to boil and your patience run thin. It’s bad enough that you sometimes have daunting thoughts of being too young and naive for Mat, but for your brothers to question Mat’s motive because of your age gap, it makes it worse.

“Look, I love your sister so much. Our age has nothing to do with it. I understand your worries, though. I have two younger sisters and I’d do anything to protect them. I get it, but I’d also like for you all to give me a chance to love myself,” Mat responds calm and collected.

Nick, Nate, and Michael stay quiet and simply nod their heads. The conversation moves on, them still interrogating Mat but not being harsh and taking into consideration your happiness.

You’re quite proud of Mat for how he handled your brothers coming in hot and loaded. It makes you fall deeper in love with him.

-

“I still can’t believe you’re with a hockey player,” Nick mutters after his last sip of beer.

You furrow your eyebrows, not really understanding what he meant.

“Why? Because she doesn’t like hockey? I think I’m making a fan out of her,” Mat chimes in, his hand settling on your shoulder. His thick fingers rub at your warm skin.

“No. Because she used to have a thing for baseball players,” Nick spills, alerting you that you’re about to stumble upon rocky waters.

“Nick-“ you try to cut in, but get interrupted by Nate.

“Oh yeah! Our dear sister here actually was hooking up with Michael’s friend. He was a baseball player, and for a while we thought they were going to end up together.”

“Nate,” you groan and slap a hand on your forehead.

“I never had feelings for him; we were just sleeping together,” you continue, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment.

You cannot believe your brothers are really bringing this up right now. You subtly take a peek at Mat to see his features set in deep contemplation. You’re not really sure what’s going through his mind, but you’re sure it’s nothing good. You lean into his side and press a kiss to his bicep, hoping to calm the storm that’s surely raging in his head. He looks into your guilty eyes, but there isn’t any judgement or anger. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead and faces your nightmares of brothers.

“Well, I guess she likes hockey more than baseball,” he states nonchalantly and you stifle your smirk. Yeah, you like hockey a lot more.

[brandogenius]

neeed more phoebe and ya similar to spiraling fic i love their relationship so bad

(this has been in my drafts for a while + not proofred. was contemplating on posting it or not but have y’all phoebe & younger artist crumbs)

‼️RPF‼️

ONE SHOT - phoebe & younger artist - frustration

word count: 673

“i can sense tension” you stopped strumming your guitar, hands sweaty, fingers callused, frustration and anxiety settled deep in your chest. phoebe was stood at the opened door to the backstage room, staff and crew were flying past phoebe at a million miles per second, busy and in a hurry to get ready for the show tonight.

“the vision.. isn’t visioning- this stupid guitar” you grumbled, roughly setting the guitar down onto the ground by your feet. your notes app was opened on your phone, disregarded to the side of the couch. phoebe walked over, sitting down beside you. “im sure it is-“

“it’s really not.” you cut phoebe off with a heavy sigh as uou ran a hand through your hair in frustration. it wasn’t working and it had you stressed- nothing was working. everything was wrong. lyrics written in the notes app but no cords or pattern seemed to fit the vibe. you gave up

“the struggles of being a musician. we’ve all been there.” phoebe chuckled to herself. picking up the acoustic guitar and propping it into her lap. she busied herself by messing around with chords she heard you play.

“how can you just..pick up from me and create a good melody? why doesn’t it work for me?” you huffed in defeat, slouching back on the couch, eyes scanning phoebe, analysing what she’s doing.

“practice makes perfect. it’s a cheesy saying but it’s true. every musician gets frustrated or burnt out like you are right now. but, that’s what makes a good musician. progression” she stopped strumming, turning to face you with a serious look on her face.

“you can’t force things to happen. it’ll happen naturally. i usually look at stuff for inspiration. go on writing trips, listen to other music. if i find a song that has a good melody, i’ll write down the chord progressions and take inspiration from them” she turned back to the guitar and started to tune it.

“yeah- i get that. sometimes i just feel like.. i’m not a good musician. nothing works right, lyrics are shitty. i look at other songs by i don’t know- muna and i think woah- how can they do that but i’m here like-“

“i’m stopping you right there, kid” phoebe talked over you, sensing where this is going. “i’m not having a repeat of last month. we do not compare ourselves to other musicians and singers. each to their own uniqueness and individuality” she placed the guitar down, turning to face you directly, sitting criss crossed on the couch.

“yeah but-“

“respectfully dude, shut up. you’re an amazing and super talented singer and musician. you put yourself down too much and i don’t like that. that’s not a healthy mindset to have. comparing yourself to other people isn’t good either.”

you looked down at your hands, picking at the nail polish.

“everyone has their own flaws, i do, you do- julien and lucy do too. you let yourself spiral from overthinking about something small to getting yourself worked up and then put yourself in a bad mood which is not good. you can’t be doing this kid, it’s not good for your mental health”

“i don’t really need a lecture from you” you sighed, looking up and staring at the ceiling.

“i’m not gonna lecture you. im only stating the obvious. you’re young, you have so much ahead of you, so much to live for and see. you don’t need to put yourself down. you don’t understand how cool and talented you are. when i first met you i was like ‘damn, that kid’s cool as heck’ and im right!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head a bit. phoebe grinned.

“see? i made you laugh” she patted your thigh and stood up. “don’t spiral into negative thoughts alright? if you find yourself doing it, just come talk to me. don’t bottle shit up until you get frustrated and take your anger out on the poor guitar, alright kid?”

“yeah- i guess so”

“good”