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magneto-was-fucking-right · 4 months

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The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 4

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;

Chapter summary: In which Simon fixes his neighbor's leaky faucet and thinks about fixing something else... Word Count: 1.4k

When Riley Thomas had walked into the building’s unreliable elevator that night, barely beating its closing rickety doors, she hadn’t expected to see Simon already inside, sulking. His black hoodie and faded jeans were just as soaked as her woolen jumper and bell-bottoms, her hair in significantly worse disarray as she wiped the rain drops from her forehead, cheeks rosy from the cold.

The young woman hadn’t seen him for almost two whole weeks, the scarce discreet noises stemming from the thin walls hardly giving away his routine – she left too early in the morning to notice signs of movement and usually returned well into the evening, precluding the chance to ever see him return from any possible outings. When she did hear something – anything at all – it was usually late at night, as his tossing and turning in bed caused the mattress’ springs to creak noisily. She knew at least that their rooms fell on adjacent parts of their respective homes (not that she cared), and that he most likely shared her terrible insomnia. If she hadn’t met Simon, she’d think she had no neighbor at all, a vacant apartment next door inhabited solely by a ghost. Mostly silent, eerily quiet.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while.” Her cheeks reddened and she hoped she didn’t look as breathless as she sounded, the quick run from the grocery store to the building tiring her out.

He nodded once in acknowledgement, barely eyeing her, a Chinese food container secured in his large hands. Riley’s smile faltered slowly as she realized he wasn’t planning on indulging her chit-chat. As her hand moved to the elevator buttons, fingers purplish and swollen from the cold, Simon grunted:

“Already pressed’em.” She blushed once again, feeling anxious sweat form in every pore as the elevator doors shut.

“Right…Sorry.” A nervous giggle made its way out her mouth, and she took a deep breath before attempting a new social interaction.

She looked up, observing his side profile as discreetly as possible, eyes fixed on his black facemask.

“Can I ask you something?”

Simon sighed before replying.

“No.”

“Why do you always wear a mask? Got covid or something?” She deliberately ignored his moody reply.

“Would you stay away from me if I did?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, and the man forced a sickly cough so dramatic she couldn’t help but laugh.

As they reached their floor, Simon patiently waited for the young woman to exit the lift first, trailing behind her smaller frame like a massive shadow.

“I love that place” She pointed at his food from the Chinese restaurant across the street, the delicious smell from its contents having filled the elevator, and now wafting down the hall. “Funny…Never took you for a spring rolls guy.”

Simon rolled his eyes “I usually go for chicken fried rice.”

“That’s my favorite!” Riley smiled excitedly.

“Great.” He replied dismissively as he fished for his keys.

“How’s your leg?” she asked, and Simon halted at her soft look of genuine concern, his keys dangling between his thick fingers.

“Quite decent.” He conceded, eyeing his own thigh. He didn’t limp nearly as much, and he had been as cautious as possible with the sutures she had skillfully provided.

“Great, and I’m sorry if it’s been too noisy lately, I’ve been cleaning up the place and I’m still finding permanent homes for most of my rescues.” Riley grimaced slightly, aware of how inconvenient her presence was as a neighbor.

He shrugged, remaining silent as she kept talking.

“Do you happen to know anyone interested in the German shepherd pup?” She asked with pleading eyes “I love Rex, but he’s no dog for a crammed apartment with other pets.”

She observed him as he seemed momentarily lost in thought, his pensive gaze zoning out before returning to hers.

“I do, actually.” Simon shifted his weight “I’ll let you know.”

“Perfect...I’ll be waiting.” Riley smiled brightly at the prospect as she unlocked her door.

She was just about to bid him a good night when he blurted out:

“I didn’t thank you.” He mumbled awkwardly. They stared at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds. “For the stitches. An’ the groceries.”

A slow, mischievous grin crept up her cheeks, two characteristic dimples dotting them as she replied.

“Day off tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you to come fix my faucet.”

“But-”

“And I love your new rug, by the way!” She taunted as she quickly scurried inside, leaving him baffled on his doorstep.

He huffed as he looked down at the pink rug she had gotten him – the one he had reluctantly placed outside his flat, those three annoying words right under his muddy boots.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.”

***

“Hold the light still.” A moody grunt.

“I’m trying!” A whimper of despair.

Simon Riley found himself lying on his aching back under his neighbors’ kitchen sink, firm hands holding a rusty wrench that stained his calloused fingers.

He could easily bear the straining of his muscles on the awkward position, as well as Riley’s aptitude to point her phone’s flash to anything but where he actually needed it, if it wasn’t for the dog constantly biting on his boot, and a large, old cat trying to sleep on top of him.

“I’m sorry about Milo.” She frowned as she tried to push her feline companion away. “He’s old and tired.”

“Me and you both, mate” She tried to suppress a giggle at his comment.

“Can I ask you something?”

Simon grunted “Does it matter if I say no?”

“No. I’ll still ask, but your consent would be greatly appreciated.”

“Go on then.”

“What’s your rank?” He couldn’t see her face from where she kneeled beside him, but he rolled his eyes as he pictured her curious expression.

“Non’ of your business, kid.” He huffed as he tightened the pipe.

“Oh, c’mon…Why are you so grumpy today? Grumpier than usual, I mean.” Simon held her wrist firmly from under the sink, startling her. He felt her body stiffen under his touch, tense silence filling the room.

Slowly, softly, he pulled her wrist to the right position, so she finally held the light properly, and if his thumb had merely grazed her soft skin as it parted his, then it was purely accidental. Surely.

Simon felt awkward as he recalled the way her eyes had momentarily lingered on a glimpse of his abdomen when he had first laid on the floor, his shirt riding up as he lifted his arms to work, rolled up sleeves revealing numerous tattoos. A part of him – a part he longed to bury and dissociate from - tortuously replayed the glint in her innocent, curious eyes, the way her lips had slightly parted, and her cheeks and neck heated involuntarily.

As he finished the task, sliding from under the sink and sitting up against the cupboard, Simon avoided her gaze as he readjusted his black facemask.

“Lieutenant.” He conceded, killing the silence between the two.

She tried not to look too pleased about having her way, pocketing her phone and petting Rex distractedly as she considered the implications.

“Regular army?”

“SAS.”

“Wow…A seasoned soldier then.”

“A bit.” Simon groaned as he stood up, his joints cracking painfully.

“That’s the sound of victory right there.” She taunted and he shot her a glare.

“Jus’ turn the bloody thing on.”

He rolled his eyes as she stood upright, saluting him.

“Sir, yes sir!”

“I’m never tellin’ you anythin’ ever again.”

“Copy that, Lieutenant.” Riley giggled as she turned on the faucet. “Success!” She yelled excitedly as there were no more leaks.

Simon nodded in approval, satisfied with his work.

“I guess you’re good at laying pipe.” The young woman joked, winking playfully.

“Shut up, kid.” He turned around, heading slowly for her door so she wouldn’t notice his flushed ears. “Bugger off with your yank expressions.”

Despite being more cluttered, her tiny flat seemed much cozier than his, and he made sure to avoid stepping on her clean carpet as Milo tried to waddle between his feet.

“Leaving so soon?” She seemed disappointed by his quick retreat, but he didn’t dare face her soft gaze again.

Simon stopped by the doorway and stared at Riley’s baby picture on the thrifted entrance table. She was chunky and missing half her teeth, but the same dimpled smile brightened up the dull background. Right beside it stood a picture of her father, his medals humbly kept in a small glass display.

“I can’t stay.”

“Not even for a cup of tea?” He could almost feel how hard she struggled to blurt out the invitation, her tone laced with shyness.

“Maybe next time, love.”

A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry I took forever to post another part, holidays were crazy! I hope you guys are enjoying it and feel free to drop any feedback or ask to be added to the tag list :) Thank you guys for reading <3

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#ghost cod #ghostxreader #cod #ghost imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #neighbor!ghost #TGND #modernwarfare2

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justagalwhowrites · 8 months

Note

Hi again Bestie!

This is for the Enemies to Lovers Angsty Joel ask. I was thinking a new reader with show Canon Joel? But if that’s too much work and it works better with Lavender Joel and doc that’s fine too!!

aaa thank you so much for responding!!

OMG HI BESTIE!

Thank you so much for the ask and for being patient! I hope this fits with what you're looking for. Thank you for reading and reaching out! Love you!!!

(This ask came in from @dundienominee and they're tagged with permission HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!!)

Loathe/Lust

You have every reason to hate Joel fucking Miller. He knows it. It doesn't stop him from coming to you for help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Legal age gap (reader is 27 and has known Joel since she was 25, Joel is 46.) SMUT :D Canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.4k

Spring, 2013

At the end of the world, there were very few constants.

One, you were fucking tired of jerky.

Two, there was never a shortage of people who needed healing.

Three, you hated Joel fucking Miller.

Everything else could shift and change but those things were facts.

Jerky was a staple of every meal because, with QZ food, there was no such thing as fresh. There was often no such thing as enough, either, but fuck were you tired of jerky.

And QZ life wasn’t easy on anybody. People needed a lot of patching up here. You’d come up through FEDRA school, 17 and a junior in high school when the outbreak happened. You were tapped early for your aptitude for biology and taught the very basics for helping to keep people alive. You didn’t know much about the world before, you’d been a teenager when things went to shit, but you knew what they taught you barely qualified as medicine. Still, you did everything you could to help people. It was nice, having purpose in this shitty life.

Then there was Joel. Joel fucking Miller. Joel fucking Miller, drug smuggler. Joel fucking Miller, guy who got your brother mixed up in his stupid illegal activities. Joel fucking Miller, the man who introduced your brother to fucking Marlene. Joel fucking Miller, the person you really blamed for your idiot brother taking off across the country to help the goddamn Fireflies as though there was a single fucking thing people could do to fix this disaster, to bring down FEDRA. Without Joel fucking Miller, Nathan never would have gotten hooked on drugs to begin with, never would have been vulnerable, never would have fallen for Marlene’s bullshit.

If it wasn’t for Joel fucking Miller, you wouldn’t be here, alone.

But you were.

And you hated him for it.

And he knew that you hated him for it.

Which is why it was a hell of a shock when there was a knock on your door late one Thursday night, just before curfew, and Joel was there, grimacing and panting for breath.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” you snapped, almost slamming the door on him. He threw his hand out and caught it before you could, his thick fingers closing around the edge of it.

“Not any happier about this than you are, Brat,” he spoke through clenched teeth, using the nickname your brother always called you. The name he’d called you for 22 years before he went across the country because of Joel fucking Miller. “But I don’t exactly got another choice.”

He adjusted his leg so you could see it in the light. A knife was embedded there, right where his femoral artery would be.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Can’t exactly go to the clinic with this,” he said. “But you’re dumb enough to take that fuckin’ doctor’s oath seriously so…”

“Calling me dumb probably isn’t the smartest move when you want me to save your goddamn life,” you glared at him.

“I ain’t wrong.”

“Fuck you,” you sighed, opening your door wide and stepping out of the way. He limped inside, going for the couch. “Don’t even think about it, asshole. Kitchen table, if I’ve got to clean your blood off my floor I’m not trying to get it out of the fucking carpet.”

He grimaced but obeyed, heading for the table and sitting down heavily in one of your mismatched wooden chairs. You went to collect what you’d need to - hopefully - keep him from fucking dying in your apartment and came back, propping his injured leg up on another chair before pulling a third one up alongside him. You put a towel down below him and took your scissors and cut his jeans, exposing his leg where the knife was sticking out.

“At least you weren’t dumb enough to pull it out,” you muttered, examining the wound. “Know how big the knife is?”

“Big,” Joel said wryly.

You glared at him.

“I meant in inches. Not that you men can judge inches worth a damn…”

“I can,” he said. “And it’s about 8 inches. Trust me, I know.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he did.

“Alright,” you said, actually meeting his gaze. His eyes were oddly gentle, a softness to them that made your heart ache a little when you looked at him too long. “I’m going to do what I can here and I have my shit set up and ready to go but if this thing shredded your femoral artery, you’re going to bleed out and die in just a few minutes and there won’t be a goddamn thing I can do about it. I’m as prepared as I can be for a heavy bleed but if you’re really fucked you’d need someone to take a blood vessel from one part of your body and use it to patch the femoral and it should go without saying that I can’t do that in my fucking kitchen. I could put a tourniquet on you and try to get you to the clinic but…”

“FEDRA would just finish me off,” he nodded. “I get it.”

You paused for a second, looking at him.

“I really will do everything I can,” you said, actually earnestly speaking to him for a change. You felt… bad for him. For Joel fucking Miller. You didn’t like the guy but you didn’t want him dead.

You pulled on gloves.

“Look, Brat, I know this is a win/win for you, alright?” He smirked a little. “Either I owe you or I’m dead and you don’t have to fuckin’ deal with me anymore. Promise I won’t haunt you if I finally got myself killed, OK?”

You nodded and tried to wrap your head around the idea that Joel fucking Miller might be dead at your kitchen table in a few minutes.

“Anything you want me to tell people if…”

“Don’t have much I’m leavin’ behind,” he said, actually serious now. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him be serious before. He sighed. “Been fine with dyin’ for a while. About time it caught up with me. Just tell Tess and Tommy I’m sorry for fuckin’ ‘em over. Sorry to you, too, for draggin’ you into it. Don’t have anyone else.”

You nodded again. Why was Joel making you feel bad for him? Making you think of him like a person instead of some asshole now? When it’d be on you to keep his stupid ass alive?

“Right.”

You cracked your neck and loosened your body up before putting a hand on his bare thigh. His skin was warm and soft, his leg muscled and thick.

“This is going to hurt like a bitch,” you warned him. “But you need to stay completely still, otherwise something that wasn’t already fucked up might get fucked up. I’ve got to pull the blade out as straight as I can, try to get it to go the same path it went in, OK?”

“OK,” he nodded, his large hands going to the base of his thigh, like he was going to hold himself still. He looked at you again. “Meant what I said. It’s really… it’s alright if it kills me, OK? Don’t want you to feel like shit if it does. Not your fault.”

“Yeah, I’d hardly feel like shit for taking you out, Miller,” you rolled your eyes even though the idea of him dying mad your stomach turn. Maybe it was because it would be on your shoulders and you didn’t want anyone to die because of you. Even Joel fucking Miller, the man you hated more than anyone else. The thought that part of him wanted to die made your chest tight. You took a deep breath. “Here we go.”

You pulled the knife out as quickly as you could while also holding it steady - which, as it happens, wasn’t all that quick. Joel hissed in pain but, to his credit, didn’t move.

There was a fair bit of blood once the blade was freed but it wasn’t a full-blown arterial bleed. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good news, you’re not going to bleed out on my kitchen floor,” you set the knife down and grabbing gauze, putting pressure on the wound. “You missed your femoral artery. I still need to get this bleeding to slow down before I can stitch you up and you’ll need to take it easy for a bit but you’ll be fine.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he smirked a little but still. He looked relieved.

“You’re a constant disappointment so I’m used to it.”

He snorted and relaxed back into his seat, crossing his arms, watching you hold the gauze to his leg. His bare, strong leg. You swallowed.

“Hear from your brother at all?” He asked.

You looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

“Every now and then.”

“He doin’ OK?”

“Fine, from what I can tell,” you replied. “Doesn’t have anyone giving him a steady stream of fucking drugs which I’m sure helps.”

He shrugged.

“Demand is demand, Brat,” he said. “Don’t blame the supply.”

“Want me to go back in and cut your femoral artery?” You snapped. “Because I can make that happen.”

“Honey, I don’t think you could cut the femoral artery of someone who was tryin’ to kill you if you had the chance,” he smirked. “Not gonna do it to me. You should work on that.”

You just rolled your eyes and changed out the gauze.

“In just a second I’m going to get to stab you over and over with a needle,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Think I’ll see just how close together I can get these stitches. Can’t wait.”

It didn’t take long for the bleeding to slow and you did, indeed, stab Joel fucking Miller 20 times in the leg with a needle.

“There,” you said, looking over your handiwork. “Looks like you’ll live to ruin lives another day.”

“Livin’ the dream,” there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. You set the needle down and took off your gloves before getting up.

“Alright, you’re not going home tonight,” you said, squatting down so your shoulder was tucked into his underarm. “It’s after curfew, anyway, and I’m not about to let you waste all the trouble I just went through by getting picked up by fucking FEDRA. I’m moving you to the couch and going to set you up so that leg is elevated. You can go home in the morning.”

He nodded and shifted in his chair until part of his weight was on you. He was big, bigger than you really realized, his weight more substantial than you’d expected. He was so broad. You hadn’t been close to him before, had never realized it. He sat heavily on the couch and he hefted his injured leg up as you grabbed some towels to stack below his ankle.

“Comfortable?” You asked, hands on your hips.

“Think there might be a pea under one of these cushions…” You flipped him off with a roll of your eyes. He smiled. “I’m good. Thank you. For… well, all of it. Appreciate it.”

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “I’ll work on that so next time I can finish you off.”

He smirked.

“Whatever you say, Brat.”

You woke up early but Joel was already gone.

You didn’t see him again until he showed up at your door almost a week later, not long after you got home from a shift at the clinic.

“Who’d you piss off this time?” You asked.

“Just you.”

He held out a book and you frowned and took it. It was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

“What…”

“Saw you had some of her on your bookshelf there,” he nodded toward it. “But didn’t see that one and it’s the only one I’d fuckin’ heard of… Anyway. Thought you’d like it.”

“I do but…” you turned the book over in your hands. It was a nice copy, with a cloth cover and a ribbon bookmark. It would have cost a small fortune on the black market. You looked up at him. “Why are you giving me this?”

He shrugged.

“Saw it, thought of you. Wanted to say thanks for not killin’ me.”

“You really don’t…”

“I know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “See you around, Brat.”

He left while you were still staring at the book.

It was three months before he was back at your door again. You’d read Pride and Prejudice twice since then, disappearing into the story, reluctantly thankful to Joel fucking Miller for the best escape you’d had from the QZ in years.

This time, it was after curfew and he was clutching his arm, soaking wet as it poured rain outside. You just sighed and wordlessly opened your door.

He came in and sat at your kitchen table while you grabbed towels and gave him one.

“Don’t have a knife lodged in there do you?” You asked, grabbing your stash of medical supplies.

“Not this time,” he dried his face and roughly pressed the towel to his hair. “But it’s a nasty cut that hasn’t stopped bleedin’, think I need stitches.”

“Can you take the shirt off?” You asked, going to the kitchen to wash your hands throughly.

“Think so,” he called after you.

You stopped in your tracks when you turned around. The shirt was off and Joel was… fucking beautiful. His chest and arms and shoulders were broad and sculpted, his stomach a little softer and inviting. You wanted to touch him, not as someone treating him but as someone experiencing him, enjoying him. You shook yourself mentally.

He was Joel fucking Miller. You were not going to get turned on by Joel fucking Miller.

“You just love giving me an excuse to stab you repeatedly don’t you?” You said, sitting in the char beside him and pulling on gloves.

“Figured you’d be bored,” he smirked. “Got a big knife if you want to try to take me out this time…”

He nodded to his belt and you looked down instinctively. He did, indeed, have a large knife strapped to his side. You rolled your eyes.

“Sit still while I do this,” you demanded.

“Yes ma’am.”

You disinfected and cleaned the wound before you started stitching it. You could hear Joel grimacing as you did and you tried to ignore just how good his damn arm looked as you worked on it.

“How’s Nathan?” He asked after a minute. You looked away from his wound to glare at him. “What?”

“He’s not here,” you snapped. “You can’t get him involved in your shit, can’t get him running drugs for you again, can’t get him putting his life on the line to feed his damn addiction, you can’t take advantage of his weakness so you can make more goddamn ration cards! So stop fucking asking!”

He was quiet and you went back to stitching.

“S’not why I ask,” he said after a moment.

“Then why do you?” You kept your eyes on your work this time.

“I’m not the one who got him hooked on that shit, you know,” he said, ignoring your question. You scoffed. “It’s true, I’m not. He was hooked well before I met the guy…”

“And how’d that happen?” You asked, harsher than you really meant to be.

“His dealer was a piece of shit,” Joel said. “Asshole named Robert. He knows who’s most vulnerable, who’s desperate, who he can overcharge and drive into debt. Nathan owed him money. A lot of fuckin’ money. He didn’t have it and Robert wasn’t too happy about that. So… I intervened.”

“Intervened?”

Joel shrugged and you glared at him, needle in your fingers.

“Sorry,” he said. “But… Robert’s an asshole but he’s smart enough to know that I’d fuck up him and his guys. So, I made him back off. But Nathan still needed the drugs so…”

“So he took up with you,” you finished for him, making the last stitch and tying it off. You cut the thread and sat back in your chair.

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel said, titling his arm to look at your work. “Wasn’t tryin’ to get him into trouble. Was tryin’ to keep him out of it. Seemed like a good kid. Didn’t deserve to get killed because some asshole was takin’ advantage.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “But still. You deserved to know. And I do hope your brother’s doin’ OK. I know you think I’m bad news but the Fireflies ain’t exactly the Girl Scouts.”

“Well, nothing is anymore, right?” You took off the gloves and started cleaning up. “Sit tight, I’ll find you a shirt. It’s after curfew because apparently you can’t piss people off at a reasonable time. You can take the couch again.”

“See, Brat, it’s all part of my plan,” he smirked. “Come here too late for you to send me home so I can sleep on your strangely comfortable couch…”

You rolled your eyes and found a shirt your ex-boyfriend had abandoned at your place when you’d broken up. You handed it to him and he went to the couch, not needing your help this time.

“Try not to sleep on the side with the stitches,” you said. “That should go without saying but…”

“But you think I’m an idiot?” He asked, brows raised, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Something like that,” you said, turning to to go bed yourself. But you paused, doubling back. He’d settled back in on the couch, his uninjured arm behind his head. He frowned at you, questioningly. “Thanks. For the book, I mean. Hadn’t read Pride and Prejudice since before the outbreak but it was nice, reading it again. Though I think I’d rather you owe me a favor than get the book…”

“Still owe you the favor,” he said and then looked at the spot on his arm where the stitches were. “Two, now.”

You smiled a little. At Joel fucking Miller.

“Good to know.”

He was gone by morning.

The next time you were able to talk to Nathan via radio, you asked how he’d meet Joel. You asked about Robert.

“Oh yeah,” he said, as though this should have been obvious to you. “Think I owe that guy my life, honestly…”

“He was selling you drugs that could have killed you, Nathan,” you wished he were about 2,000 miles closer so you could grab him and shake him.

“It’s all relative,” he said. “He sure as shit didn’t do to me what Robert did, I’ll say that.”

Joel fucking Miller.

What if your brother was only alive because of Joel fucking Miller?

It was two months before you saw him again.

This time, it was at the clinic. He was sitting in one of the small triage areas, just a curtain around the bed and you sighed when you saw him. He smirked.

“What’d you do now?” You asked, looking down at the chart.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m here to lie about symptoms so you’ll give me antibiotics to take back to Tommy. Think an injury of his got infected outside. Don’t want anyone lookin’ to closely at it.”

“Jesus, Miller,” you sighed. “Alright, what symptoms do you supposedly have?”

He rattled them off and you nodded along before sighing again.

“Let me get you antibiotics,” you said. “It’s a miracle none of you have fucking died, you realize that.”

“And I’m sure that’s a big disappointment for you,” he smirked.

“Every goddamn day.”

You went to the medicine cupboard and unlocked it, grabbing the pills you needed before closing it again when a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and ripped you around, so fast it made your head spin. You recognized the man standing so close to you that you could smell him. He’d been in the clinic a few times over the last few weeks, always complaining of pain. Everyone turned him away for drug seeking behavior but you could tell, the last time he was here, that he was getting desperate.

“Look you little bitch,” his large hand went for your throat before you had a chance to even fully realize what was happening, your eyes going wide. He thrust you back against the cabinet with a thud, knocking your head against it so hard that you felt your brain rattle in your skull. You dropped the bottle in your hand and it clattered to the ground as you instinctively clawed at his hand. He tightened his grip. “I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried asking. You’re going to give me what I fucking need or I’ll kill you and get it from someone else, understand?”

He squeezed tighter, your vision starting to get spotty. You couldn’t breathe and it’s not like you’d taken a deep breath before diving in the deep end of your parents’ pool. You wouldn’t last long without being able to breathe. Panic flared, acute and sharp, and your body scrambled to fight, to kick and scratch and punch to get a breath but it wasn’t working, he wasn’t letting you go. Your head was getting light and your vision was already narrowing when, suddenly the hand disappeared.

You collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air and looked up to see Joel on top of the man, a knee in his chest as he brought his fist down on his face again and again and again. The man tried to get his hands up to protect his face, then tried to land a hit on Joel but neither worked. Joel was almost eerily quiet as he pummeled the man, grunting with every blow, an almost unhinged look on his face.

“Joel!” You tried to yell for him as you pushed yourself to your hands and knees. Your body felt so weak compared to just a few minutes before. You couldn’t really talk, an unfamiliar, raspy sound the only thing that left you. You tried again, anyway. “Joel!”

You managed to make it to your feet and caught Joel’s elbow as he pulled it back one more time and he stopped, turning to look at you with that mad look on his face but it vanished the second he saw you. He dropped his arms, panting for breath, his eyes running over your face and neck. You pulled him back from the man as a nurse ran over to start examining Joel’s victim.

One of your hands went to your throat, cradling it gently and feeling for damage and you pointed to the pill bottle with the other one.

“Should get out of here,” you managed, though it sounded more like a garbled mess than actual words. But he seemed to understand. He picked up the bottle and gave you a last, lingering look before leaving the clinic.

One of doctors looked you over and said you’d be fine eventually, you just needed to rest. They offered you some pain pills - the same ones Nathan had been hooked on, the same ones the man today had been willing to kill you for - and you turned them down, just trudging home and collapsing on the couch when you got there.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been attacked. It was the end of the world, after all, it had happened a few times before. But it was the first time you had the feeling that you were about to die. Even when you’d been held at knife point for ration cards you’d had the feeling that everything was going to be fine. Yeah, you’d be short on some ration cards that day but you’d be fine.

Not this time.

You tried to relax, drifting in and out of consciousness on your couch, trying not to think of the man with his hand around your throat. The way his fingers had bruised you, the way his palm had crushed into your windpipe. The ruddy tone of his skin, the desperate and angry look in his eyes, the stink of his sweat. It was all there, every time you closed your eyes and relaxed too much it was there.

You’d just drifted off again when there was a knock on your door. You groaned and forced yourself off the couch and opened the door, your hand cradling your throat. You were half expecting it to be a coworker, coming by to check in on you.

Instead, it was Joel.

“Don’t try n’talk if it’s gonna hurt your throat,” he said. You frowned a little at him. He had a canvas bag over one shoulder. “Can I come in?”

“Not going to try and finish the job right?” You asked, voice strained and scratchy.

He rolled his eyes.

“Move, Brat.”

You made a face but stepped aside, anyway. Joel went past you to your kitchen, put the bag on the counter and started rifling through your cabinets. You followed him, frowning.

“What…” your hand was still against your throat, voice raw.

“Will you go sit down?” He gave you a look over his shoulder before going back to sifting through your things. “Jesus Christ…”

You threw your hands up but obeyed, sitting at your kitchen table and watching as Joel finally found what he was looking for. A pot, apparently. He put it on your stove and turned it on before going into the bag and pulling out a jar that he emptied into the pot. He stirred it for a moment before going into your freezer and finding the ice. He put some handfuls into a towel and came to the table, pulling out a chair and moving it so it was right in front of yours. He sat down and was so close to you that his thigh slotted between yours and you just sat there, looking at him, eyes wide.

“Move your hand,” he nodded toward it and you realized you were still holding your neck. You obeyed and he gently took your chin in his large hand - his knuckles cut and bruised - adjusting your head so he could examine your throat. “Damn, Honey, he got you real good.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Hush,” he ordered. “Hold your head still.”

He released your chin and lightly trailed his callused fingers over your throat, his touch lingering over where you knew was probably damaged and bruised. He took the ice in the towel and pressed it delicately to your skin.

“See, you do know how to listen,” he said. “Even does you good every now and then.”

You scoffed but you took the ice bundle from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. He sat back a little, his eyes running over the rest of you, his leg still between yours, the other brushing the outside of your thigh.

“He get you anywhere else?” He asked eventually. You shook your head a little. Joel nodded. “Good.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, voice a little clearer than it had been the last time you spoke.

“You need to eat somethin’,” he said. “And I owed you.”

“Why don’t I get to pick the favors?” You glared at him.

“I’ll still owe ya,” he shook his head a little. “Dyin’ to know what you’d cash it in on.”

“You and me both.”

It didn’t take long for the soup he brought to be done and he poured you a bowl of it. He got you both glasses of beer, also from the bag he’d brought. Your eyes went a little wide at your first bite of soup.

“What?” He frowned.

“This is good,” you said, going back for another bite.

Joel laughed.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m not totally useless.”

“How’s your hand?” You asked, looking at his knuckles. He flexed his fingers for a moment.

“Fine,” he shrugged. “Had worse.”

You considered him for a moment. He frowned.

“What.”

“Why’d you do it?”

His frown deepened.

“Do what?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Save me. And beat the shit out of that guy. You hate me. Why’d you do it? Was it just that you didn’t want to lose out on the person who will stitch you up in the middle of the night or…”

“Don’t hate you,” he said, taking a sip of beer.

You scoffed.

“You hate me,” you said, taking another bite of soup. The weirdly good soup. “I know you hate me.”

“How do you know I hate you.”

“Because I hate you,” you said, though you were starting to think that wasn’t true anymore.

“Yeah, noticed that,” he smirked a little.

“You call me brat…”

“Nate called you brat,” he replied. “And you are a brat. Seemed appropriate.”

“You’re never nice to me,” you said. “Well, except right now…”

“You’re never nice to me,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want to make your hatin’ me something that wasn’t fun for you, figured I should be mean back.”

“Hating you isn’t for fun you dick,” you glared at him.

“It’s not?” He looked a little amused by it all. “What’s it for then?”

“It’s for ruining my brother’s life!” You dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clatter and set the ice pack down with a little too much force. “For getting him mixed up in your fucking smuggling operation and getting him involved with the fucking Fireflies and making it so he left town and I’m just left here, alone! I’m alone, I have no one and nothing and it’s all your fucking fault!”

You weren’t entirely sure when you started crying but you were. The overwhelming, gasping, choking kind of crying that you had to fight to breathe through. You could feel it in your chest, the pressure of the tears building up behind your eyes, every pain you’d suffered the past year welling up and bursting free at once, all of it directed at Joel.

“Oh, Honey,” he leaned forward and gently took your face in his hand, drying your cheek with his thumb. His legs were on either side of yours. He delicately pulled you against him, your face going to his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you, cradling you securely against his broad body. “I’ve got you, it’s OK…”

You stayed against him like that for a long time. Longer than you wanted to admit to. But it felt nice to be there in Joel’s arms. You didn’t have anyone here, didn’t really have friends outside of work. Your ex-boyfriend had broken things off a few months back and the idea of dating again the QZ sounded hellish so you just hadn’t done it. Joel, in that moment, felt like someone you had. He was someone that made it so you weren’t totally alone.

After a while, you’d calmed a bit, your tears slowing and your breaths coming easier. You kept your face buried in Joel’s shoulder, shifting a little so your nose was pressing against his neck.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you said, voice thick and rough from the tears and your injury. “Why’d you save me?”

He sat back from you ever so slightly, his hands taking you by the shoulders and guiding you back up so you were looking him in the eye. You wiped your nose on the back of your hand.

“You might hate me but I never hated you,” he said, his eyes oddly soft and earnest. “Not once.”

“Joel,” you said quietly. His hand went from your shoulder to your cheek, his fingers threading into your hair. You were suddenly, acutely aware of how little distance there was between the two of you. It seemed like too much.

He slowly, cautiously moved closer to you, his eyes going from your own to your lips and back again but he stopped just short of kissing you. Like he was waiting for you to close the distance, asking your permission.

You gave it.

You pressed your mouth to his and it was delicate at first, your lips brushing his, feather light but electric. Then, Joel’s grip on you got stronger, his kiss growing firmer and more insistent, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you. You let out a little moan, an ache growing between your legs.

Joel released your face and his hands traveled to your waist and he adjusted as he pulled you closer so that your legs went around him and you were suddenly in his lap. You could feel his hard length through his jeans and you realized that he hadn’t been joking about knowing the size of the knife. You groaned a little, grinding your hips down against him, and Joel moaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down and around your back, fingers spread wide over you.

“You sure about this?” He asked, peppering kisses along your jawline between words.

“Yes,” you panted, needy. “I want you…”

“Fuck, Honey,” he breathed. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

His mouth reached the damaged skin of your throat and he delicately kissed each bruise on your neck, his lips warm and soft. His fingers lightly traced your bruises.

“He still alive?” He pulled back from you enough to look up at you from your position on his lap. You draped your arms over his shoulders and nodded. He frowned. “Shoulda killed him for touchin’ you…”

“Not worth it,” you said, kissing him again, harder this time. His hands moved to your front, unbuttoning your shirt.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his mouth close enough that his lips brushed yours when he spoke. “Promise you, you are.”

He nudged your arms down and slid your shirt off, pulling away from you to look down at your half naked body.

“Fuck, Honey,” he groaned, his large hands coming to your stomach and spreading warm and wide against you, moving over you, skimming over your skin with his rough fingers. He pulled you tight to him as his hands went for your bra clasp, unhooking it as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. He took it off, too, his hands finding your breasts, cradling them in his large palms, his thick thumbs brushing your nipples. “Jesus Christ, got no right lookin’ this fuckin’ good…”

He kissed over the swell of flesh before he found your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, licking the tip with his tongue, making you moan, your back arching into him. He did the same to your other breast, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your back like he couldn’t get you close enough. When he released you, he looked up at you, panting and desperate.

“Lemme take you to bed,” his hands slipped down your back to your hips, pulling you down firmly against his hard cock. “Need inside you…”

You just nodded quickly and his hands moved to your ass, holding onto you from below as he stood with you in his arms. You let out a little yelp as he did before he carried you down the hall to your bedroom.

He lay you down so gently on the bed it was almost shocking, kissing you deeply as he did. You fumbled with his shirt until it was unbuttoned and you could slide it off his broad shoulders and cast it aside. Joel moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them and hooking his fingers around them and your panties, pulling them down your body together, crawling back and kissing down your body as he did.

“Oh Honey,” he said once your pants were on the floor and he was kneeling between your thighs. He was looking down at your dripping slit. He spread your legs a little wider, opening the core of you to his gaze, before he ran a single finger over your folds. He left it against your clit, giving it the gentlest pressure. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. You achin’ for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” you were practically squirming below him, your whole body raw and needy, the heat in you burning. “Please Joel…”

“Gonna make you come first, Honey,” his finger started working in slow circles, the pressure growing. “Make sure you’re ready for me. Get this pussy so fuckin’ wet for me.”

He sank a thick finger inside you, moving his thumb to your clit, and he moaned as you whimpered at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” the hand not working your pussy went to your lower stomach, his fingers spread out wide against your skin. “Jesus Christ, you feel incredible, fuckin’ incredible and that’s just my finger, fuck…”

He worked you harder and you rocked your hips against him, your hands going to your breasts and holding them, squeezing them.

“Holy shit,” he moaned at the sight. “Fuck, need you to come Honey, need you to come for me so I can get inside you, come on baby.” He added another finger and hooked them up into the softest part of your core, making your breath catch in your throat. You started tightening around him, the heat in you growing. “There she is, can feel it, come on Honey, come all over my fingers, you can do it. Come for me, don’t make me beg for it, baby, need you too fuckin’ bad…”

You came, gasping his name when you did, your hold on your breasts relaxing as your whole body throbbed with your release.

“Fuck, there we go,” he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping. “Doin’ so good coming on these fingers Honey, getting yourself all ready for my cock. Gonna take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.”

Your body went slack and he smiled and almost devilish smile, sliding his fingers from your body and sucking them clean before he opened his pants and took them off. He climbed between your legs, crawling up your pliant form, kissing a trail up your body until his lips were on yours and you could feel his thick length brushing your dripping core.

“What if I want you to?” You panted, your hands running over his bare back.

“Want me to what?” He asked.

“Beg for it.”

He smiled a little.

“Please Honey,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Please, let me inside you. I’m past fuckin’ want you, baby, I’m past needing you. I swear not havin’ you is gonna fuckin’ kill me. I will beg you all damn night if you want, I’ll beg you all damn year if it’ll make you give yourself to me.”

You laughed softly, your fingers twisting in his hair as you pulled him closer.

“Guess you should fuck me then,” you smiled before you kissed him.

He felt as desperate and needy as he sounded, his thick head catching on your entrance before he pushed into you in one long, firm stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, feeling every inch of his cock as he opened you to him, the tip of him finding a place inside you that you didn’t think anyone had reached before. You were so exquisitely full it was like your body had been holding space for him your whole life. It was something entirely new, so good you were almost happy the world ended just so you could find a feeling like this. You looked up at him, your eyes wide, wondering if he felt it too.

“Fuck,” he panted, holding himself within you as your body adjusted to taking him, his eyes searching yours. “Jesus Christ, I’ve never… fuck, Honey, I ain’t gonna last long, you feel too good, too goddamn good.”

“Joel,” you breathed. It was all you could think to say, every thought that wasn’t him gone from your head. Your pussy was already starting to tighten around him, just from the feel of his cock inside you. “Fuck, please…”

“You already about to come baby?” He asked as he started to move inside you, slow and heavy at first. You moaned and nodded quickly. He thrust into you, hard and firm. “Fuck, fuck, not gonna last when you come, can I come in you, need to come inside you, fuck Honey I need to come inside you.”

You just nodded again even though you weren’t on birth control and you sure as fuck didn’t know what was happening between the two of you outside of this bed and the fact that you knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing. It couldn’t be, not when he felt this good, like he’d been made to fuck you and you’d been made to take him into yourself. You wanted him to leave part of himself inside you, plant it deep so you could feel him there all warm and wet tomorrow.

With your nod, he started fucking you - really fucking you. His cock was so deep when he pushed into you you could feel the thick weight of him pressing up against your skin, like you’d be able to see him inside your body if there was enough space between the two of you to look. He pulled back almost totally, leaving just his head inside your grasping hole before fucking back into you, every stroke hard and desperate and your nails sank into his back as your hips rose up to meet his on every thrust. You never wanted him to leave your body, wanted him to make a home deep inside you so you could always be this full, this complete. His body worked your clit and your pussy got tighter and tighter around him, your head swimming with the pressure of it all, your body so needy it felt like you might burst.

“Want to come with you,” you whimpered. “Please, come for me Joel, I’m so fucking close, want you to come deep inside me, please…”

“Fuck Honey,” his thrusts stuttered and he groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good, leave this pussy so fuckin’ full of me, fill you up again and again…”

He thrust deep, so deep it almost hurt and you felt him start to pulse inside you. Your hands went to his lower back, pressing him impossibly deeper and you cried out as you came around him, your channel milking his cock, throbbing around him until there was nothing left inside him to give to you.

He collapsed on you as you went limp below him and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he panted for breath. He stayed inside you as his cock softened and you could feel him leaking out of you.

“Holy shit,” he said eventually, kissing your throat and then your chin and then your lips. He kissed you deeper as he slid out of you and lap beside you. You hesitated for a moment but he reached over and pulled you on top of him, so your head was on his chest and your legs were nestled between his own. His cock was wet against your skin and you liked it, the reminder that he’d just been inside of you. “Fuck, Honey…”

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. His hand went to your back, tracing up and down your spine.

“Still hate me?” You could hear Joel fucking Miller’s cocky smile on his voice.

“I will if you never fuck me again,” you kissed his chest.

He laughed.

“Don’t gotta worry about that. Even though you still found a way to be a brat during the best goddamn sex I’ve ever had.”

You smirked.

“Would it be the best sex you’ve ever had if I didn’t?”

“Guess not,” he said. “S’it OK if I stay the night? Think we got some shit to talk through but I ain’t got it in me to do it tonight.”

“If you insist,” you teased, pressing yourself a little tighter to him. He held you a little closer. “Night, asshole.”

You said it the way you’d say baby or love. You meant it that way, too.

He laughed a little.

“Night, Brat.”

His voice was soft, like it was when he called you honey. Something told you he meant it that way, too.

#joel miller x female reader #fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #enemies to lovers

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buzzheadchick · 3 months

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Okay time I do my Walten Files posting. I’ve noticed some confusion regarding timelines and what’s happening when, so I want to try to write down what happens and when. Now someone this stuff not make much sense, and some may possibly be retconned, but this is what we are given.

The crash happened the night of May 2nd. Multiple times in the series we are told this. Jack calls Felix that night, Felix does not pick up. Jack goes to Felix’s house (12:23 AM according to CC), Felix does not answer. Jack says “I know you can hear me” and “I know you’re in there,” but we are to presume this is wishful thinking on his end, because Felix is not actually home. Felix was out until early hours of the morning the next day (May 3rd) digging the graves (still sitting in one as of 8:56 AM according to CC), throwing the bag into the river, and then going to the police station. Even earlier in the morning, presumably after Jack went to Felix’s house (which was past midnight and thus morning), Jack had already gone to the police. We learn this in the description under Lacrimosa.

"Report 90892 May 4th, 1974 - Brighton City Police Department

Wrr: Frank Davis

Felix Archer Kranken reportedly arrived at the station in the morning on May 3rd, He had a broken pair of glasses, dirty blue pants and a yellow dress shirt covered in dirt and blood. When I got the call He was already taken into custody, we sat him down for a few hours and he revealed valuable information about a case we were previously told about earlier that same day by Mr. Jack Walten. Walten's 2 youngest kids, Edd and Molly Walten, had disappeared with Kranken the night prior. Felix's alibi stated he was unconscious or about 20 minutes, when he woke up the kid had ran off."

In TFW4, we get a sort of update from Felix from “3 days after the accident.” He said he “finally told them what happened” in his office, which I think we are to believe he told them the truth, as opposed to the lie he told the police. However, he still lies about the Rocket doll. In the description under Guilty, we see this:

"In memorial of Edward Walten - Molly Walten:

- Ed (12) and Molly (9) died Thursday, May 2nd, 1974 in a fatal car accident, they were leaving a party made by their school to celebrate Spring. Jack Walten (father, husband) couldn't take the kids to the celebration because of work. A friend of Mr. Walten would take the kids instead. On the way back home, Jack's friend would be driving in questionable conditions, thus crashing his car near the road next to Saint Juana's forest. Instantly taking both Edward and Molly's lives. You will be remembered, our little angels, our little red children."

The video Guilty is from three years ago, so this may be retconned, but it is the current understanding that by the time of the funeral for Ed and Molly, they knew the truth of what happened. This points to the idea that during the meeting in Felix’s office, he told the truth. However, it is unclear if this truth went out to the police. There are a few reasons why The Waltens may not go forward with the information Felix told them, but I don’t cover them here as they aren’t explicitly stated.

It is unclear when the funeral is, but based off of the memorial, it is after Felix came clean. In TWF4, on “05/13” (May 13th) Susan and Charles only find out “weeks” later about the funeral, but it physically couldn’t have been more than ten days, implying the funeral was held quickly after the accident, possibly as soon as they Waltens found out the truth. With it also being clear it was “family only,” it seems in addition to not telling the police, the family hadn’t told ANYONE. It is unclear if Susan and Charles know the full truth, or only the truth given to the police, only that he was “drunk while driving the car.” By that time, Susan says she hasn’t heard from Jack “in a long while.” Both of them think there’s something off with Felix’s story, implying that they maybe don’t know the full truth, but they could just be doubting what we the audience have been shown (which still may not be the full story). Charles asks if the kids are “gone,” which is ambiguous wording. I think it may be intentional that we don’t know what they know. Some point prior to that, Felix hid Rocket at Bon’s Burgers, and told Susan not to tell Rosemary or Jack. Jack disappears almost a month later, on June 11th. Susan dies even later, on June 30th.

So that’s the timeline of the events we see surrounding the new video. I can’t tell you if maybe there’s more than Felix even knows happened that night, or who knows what, or why the Waltens haven’t gotten Felix arrested. But that’s the timeline.

#The Walten Files #the walten files spoilers #TWF #twf spoilers #twf 4

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prairiefirewitch · 11 months

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I’m hagging out a day early because I’m headed out of town for a couple of days, but I was not about to miss this month’s hag party. I love making infusions and have managed to turn infused witch things into my full time job, so this is my strawberry jam. Strawberry vanilla hibiscus infused mead, specifically.

I try to make at least 2 batches of mead a year; one at Yule to be shared at Midsommar, and the other made at Midsommar to be shared at Yule. It’s a nice way for me to slow down and apply patience (I’ve got zero) to a project, and eventually reap the delicious benefits of waiting for the mead to mature. And it’s very sweet to taste the labors of summer in the middle of winter, and then to taste the warm spices of winter in summer. It’s alcohol-fueled time travel.

This mead is my favorite of all the batches I’ve made, so I made 3 gallons instead of the usual 1 gallon batches I make.

Mead is incredibly easy to make; once you toss everything together, it’s just a waiting game. Here’s the down and dirty but there are many good recipes online if you want something more complex. Sanitizing your equipment is the most important step and you can use San-star from a homebrew supplier, or make your own with a gallon of cool water and about an ounce of household bleach. Everything you use here needs to be sanitized.

You need all this stuff to make a gallon:

2.5 - 3 lbs honey

1/2 pack sweet or dry yeast mead (I used champagne yeast because I like it bone dry)

1 gallon spring or purified water

2 cups berries

Vanilla bean, split and scraped

10 raisins

1/2 cup dried hibiscus flowers

You’ll also want a gallon sized glass carboy, a big funnel, a large cooking pot, a small cooking pot, an airlock, a sieve, a rubber stopper that fits your carboy, and a big spoon to stir with.

Put your honey in your large pot and add about half a gallon of water. Warm it on low just until the honey dissolves. Watch the heat, honey scorches quickly. While it warms, put your clean chopped strawberries into the small pot with about 2 cups of water. Bring it to a low simmer and use a potato masher or an immersion blender to make a purée. Add your hibiscus flowers, heat for a few minutes to let them soften and turn off the heat. When it’s just barely warm, use your sieve to filter out the seeds and flowers.

Once your honey water cools to about 100 degrees, pour it into your clean carboy. Add the other half gallon of water, and your sieved strawberry purée. Top up with additional water if needed, leaving about 3 inches of head room. Add your vanilla beans and raisins. Raisins provide nutrients for the yeast. Sprinkle the yeast on top, but be sure your mixture is 90 degrees or cooler or your yeast will die.

Pop your rubber stopper into the carboy and insert the water filled airlock. Now you wait. Let it ferment for 2 weeks. Most of the activity will have stopped.

Now you need to filter the mead into a second carboy. If you don’t have one, use a sanitized pot or bucket while you wash your carboy for the secondary fermentation. You want to pour or siphon slowly and carefully, using a fine mesh strainer, so you leave most of the settled yeast and bits of strawberry out. Once it’s carefully filtered, add it back to the carboy, put the stopper and airlock back in. Now wait for a long time. This mead should be ready to drink in 6 months, but it’ll be a bit rough and unrefined. You can bottle it at this point, which is what I do, but lots of people just let it age in the carboy. I like heavy duty swing top glass bottles, but wine bottles work too.

If you’re patient, save a few bottles to age for a full year. This is when your mead becomes a nectar fit for gods, with all the roughness gone, and the delicate honey flavor gets complex. Keep your bottles in a cool dark place.

Thank you @msgraveyarddirt for hosting!

#hagging out #mead #hail dionysus #Midsommar

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smilesrobotlover · 6 months

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Whumptober day 26- working till exhaustion, you look awful

Ok this one is honestly a mess but this prompt almost killed me. I did some love at twilight midlink stuff, not connected to yesterdays lol, BUT the others will will connect to day 25. For now, enjoy this little snippet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Midna hopped up the ladder that led to Link’s home. It was early in the morning, and the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. She expected Link and Kori to still be asleep, knowing that light dwellers slept when it was dark outside, but she was surprised to see Link’s bed empty. She frowned and went to his basement where Kori slept. She peeked her head through, she barely saw anything, but it was enough to hear Kori’s gentle snores. She couldn’t help but smile as he slept peacefully, wanting to hug him but decided to let him rest. She walked back out into the main area, confused. Where was Link?

She left the home and heard Epona whinny. Link and his horse emerged from the trees, and she hopped off the ladder. Link flinched but relaxed when he saw it was Midna, and she ran up to him.

“Link! What are you doing awake? I was hoping to surprise you,” she said with a smile. Link looked down and grinned.

“I couldn’t sleep, figured I could clean Epona in the spring.”

“But it’s still dark out!”

“I get up before sunrise everyday, Midna. It’s the farmer’s life.”

Midna smirked and pulled him into a hug, which he leaned into a little too much. Midna shifted her weight so she could balance herself and pulled away to study Link.

“You look awful,” she noted.

“Thanks Midna.”

“I didn’t say that to be mean, Link,” she scoffed affectionately, but she stared at him in the eyes, concerned. He had dark bags under his eyes, his usual tan complexion was a few shades lighter, and his gray blue eyes looked cloudy and dazed. He looked away from her and guided Epona to his home. “Link, are you ok?” She asked.

“I’m fine,” he quickly said, and Midna frowned.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re sick again!”

Link groaned and turned to look at her. “I’m not that sick.”

“Yes you are! This isn’t some cold, this looks serious!”

“I’m fine, Midna! I’ve done work feeling worse than this, ok?”

Midna made a shocked noise. “You’re still gonna work? Link you can’t! Not like this!”

Link spun around and glared at her. “I have to Midna! Not everyone has the luxury of letting people do the work for them!”

Midna crossed her arms and glared at him back. “Link, you have a family here. Let Rusl or Fado take care of the work today.”

Link shook his head. “They got enough they need to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get ready.”

Link turned away and walked over to the ladder. Midna glared harder at him and couldn’t take it anymore. She reached out with her hair hand and grabbed him before he could reach the ladder, and he let out a yelp as he was pulled away.

“Midna! Why are you like this?” He yelled, quiet enough as to not wake Kori up.

“Why am I like this? Why are you like this?” She yelled back. “Why are you so against rest? Rusl and Fado will understand if you need help, but nooooo you need to do it all by yourself because– because you’re an idiot!”

Link squirmed in her hold, trying to get his arms free, but Midna’s grip remained firm. He groaned when he was unsuccessful and finally stopped, glaring at Midna. Her gaze softened and she pulled him closer, cupping his cheek with her hand.

“The Twilight invasion is over Link, you don’t need to push yourself so hard anymore.”

Link’s gaze softened as well, and he looked down. “I really can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“Nope. I can read you like a book, Link,” She said softly, kissing his forehead gently. “Please, just ask Rusl to cover for you. I’m sure he’ll happily do it.”

Link stared at her, and something in his eyes almost read submission, but he shook his head.

“Put me down, Midna.”

She huffed and set him down gently, releasing him from her hold. He wavered a bit, but turned to the ladder where he started climbing. When he reached the top, he turned to her.

“I promise, I won’t do more than I’m supposed to, ok?”

Midna frowned. “Fine.”

He gave a small smile and entered the home, while Midna stayed standing there. She let out a sigh and decided that she might as well spend the day with her son, and she prayed that Link wouldn’t do anything stupid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just as Midna feared, Link did something stupid. She was playing with Kori when Colin came into the house.

“Midna? Um… Link… He…”

Midna sighed, interrupting Colin. “Where is he?”

“At home. He’s not doing very well. He kinda passed out.”

Kori shot up and looked at Midna worried. Midna stood up and walked over to the door.

“Is he ok?”

“He has a fever, but Ma and Pa assume that he’s just exhausted.”

Midna sighed again. “Thanks for telling me, Colin. Come on Kori.” She hid in Colin’s shadow and the two hurried over to Rusl and Uli’s home. When they entered, Link was lying on their couch. Luckily he was awake, but he looked much worse than before. Midna popped out of Colin’s shadow when the door was closed and she gave Link a look. He glanced away ashamed.

“Papa! Are you ok? What happened?” Kori asked, and Link ruffled his hair.

“‘M fine, just sick is all,” he said simply.

“Uncle Colin said you passed out. Why?”

Link glanced at Midna and looked away. “I… I wasn’t strong enough to do my usual chores. I’m sorry Midna.”

Midna’s gaze softened and she knelt at his side.

“Link, next time, will you just listen to me? I only yell at you like that because I hate seeing you push yourself so hard. I hate seeing you… get hurt.” She grabbed his hand and ran her thumb along the back. “I don’t want to lose you because you wouldn’t give yourself a break.”

Link stared at their hands and brought hers to his lips, giving it a small peck. “I’ll keep that in mind, Midna. Afterall, there’s no reason for me to push myself to my limits anymore.”

Midna smiled and pulled him in, kissing him on the lips. He quickly pulled away and gave her a look.

“Midna I’m sick.”

“You just kissed my hand!”

“Y-yeah but… you can wash it off! I don’t want to–”

Midna kissed him again. “Twili don’t get sick, stupid.”

Link grinned and kissed her nose. “Ok, but if you do end up getting sick, don’t be mad when I say ‘I told you so’.”

Midna rolled her eyes and they both giggled. Link’s family all cleared their throats, interrupting their moment.

“We’ll just leave the two of you alone,” Uli said awkwardly, and Midna buried her face in Link’s neck as he groaned in embarrassment. The others laughed at the two and left the house, even Kori followed them out.

“Feel better papa!” He called out, and Link waved at him. Soon the two were alone.

“Link,” Midna started, more serious than before, “I’m serious. About all of this. I know you’re tough, but you’re not invincible.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

“I’ve seen you almost die too many times in my life. Just… please. I can't take it anymore.” Midna ran her hand through his hair as he stared blankly at the wall.

“I’m sorry Midna.”

Midna looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry too. I do love you.”

“I know.”

Link kissed her near her eye and rested against her head with his eyes closed. She smiled and gathered him in her arms so she was holding him on the couch, and he drifted off from her stroking his hair.

#they make me so soft #poor Link #he doesn’t know how to give himself a break anymore #smiles writes #whumptober #whumptober 2023 #whumptober day 26 #midlink #love at twilight #Kori #I didn’t write a lot of stuff about Kori this month cuz I don’t want to whump him #he’s 10 it makes me uncomfortable #he’s just a wee baby #which is why I’ll make his parents suffer

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

HELLFIRE THANKSGIVING

Perv!Eddie x Fem!Reader

W.C 1.1k

Summary: you’re making thanksgiving for the boys when Eddie shows up early

A/N: I became feral last night and thought of this while delirious. Enjoy 😉

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS— heavy smut, degrading to some degree. foodkink! Haha sorry

Since graduating 2 years ago, the Hellfire Boys still got together every week. Whether it was to play D&D or to celebrate some obnoxious holiday, (National Hotdog Day) they still made time for each other. This week was Thanksgiving and you had spent hours making and prepping the turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, dinner rolls, etc. The boys were in charge of bringing drinks, paper plates, cups and ice. You had the rest covered. So when Eddie showed up an hour earlier than planned and you were still running around your tiny apartment with rollers in your hair, wearing pajama shorts and a small tank top on— you were flustered.

Eddie never knocked, he insisted on himself having a key to your apartment “ya know in case of an emergency”. There were never any emergencies—Eddie would just always show up, uninvited and with the charm and pervertedness cranked up high. So when he saw you bent over the table arranging the mashed potatoes amongst the smorgasbord of other items. He immediately dropped the red cups he was holding to palm himself in his jeans. “Goddamn, I swear you do this shit on purpose.”

You didn’t hear Eddie come in and you jump slightly at his words, causing the gravy you were holding to spill all over the table covering everything. “Eddie! Fuck, look at this mess!” Eddie waltzes over and puts a ring finger deep into the mashed potatoes curling it upwards and popping it into his mouth.

“Still tastes good, and I bet something else tastes even better” he says wiggling his eyebrows at your tiny shorts.

Normally Eddie’s advances towards you just caused you to roll your eyes and ignore him but this time was different, he looked so fucking hot today Wearing a long sleeved black button up shirt with all the buttons but two undone, his chain necklaces fell like icicles against his broad chest, his tattoos peeking out sexily. He wore black jeans and those heavy ass boots he always did.

He teases you all the time. It's time he got a taste of his own medicine “You’d like that wouldn’t you? And maybe today we could have crossed that thin line of our friendship and added some benefits to it…” you push your ass into his clothed dick and wiggle slightly as you throw an arm up over his neck bringing his lips closer to yours, “but now, I’ve gotta clean up this filthy fucking mess you made.” You throw your ass back into him and shove him away as you go to the kitchen to grab a washcloth.

Eddie’s cock is ready to spring free from its denim confinements, you never did this to him, you never made a fool of him this way. He was already so cock drunk on your pussy and he hadn’t even kissed you yet. You waltz back into the small dining room and lean over purposefully in front of him, your tank top rides up and your black thong is just visible to catch Eddie’s eye. He’s had enough of the teasing. “Don’t clean it up.”

“What?” You ask spinning around to face him.

“I said don’t clean it up,” Eddie grabs a fingerful of gravy and wipes it on your cleavage. He lowers his hot tongue to your heaping chest and licks the savory gravy off your sweet skin. You lower your tank top straps and shove his face in between your tits, grabbing a handful of the green bean casserole and wiping it along your chest as Eddie consumes both you and the food. His hands are on you in a flash, grabbing you up to him so that you’re grinding down on his cock, you feverishly unbutton his shirt as you place wet tongue thrashing kisses against his throat.

“Fuck baby, I’ve been dreaming of this day for so long.”

Eddie slams you down into the table, mashed potatoes and gravy go flying all over your apartment, you sip your hands into the cranberry sauce and wipe them down Eddie’s chest, licking it off with broad stripes. Eddie’s demonic tongue makes his way from your neck to your tits twirling angrily around your nipples as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Eddie lays you down and removes your shorts. “Look at this sweet little pussy, can’t wait to fill you up with my cock, make you mine for good.”

“Mmmm fuck” you moan as Eddie spits on your already wet cunt. He wiggles his hips to get his jeans and boxers off. The sight of Eddie’s thick cock springing up and leaking with precum as you practically foaming at the mouth. “Please Eddie, I need you”

Eddie slams his heavy cock into your weeping pussy. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight oh fuck,” Eddie pants as he slides every delicious inch into your dripping hole.

You let out a gasp and moan his name, twisting your nipples as he slams into you harder starting his cock drunk rhythm.

“Mmm yeah you like that? Like me treating you like a little whore and fucking you on your kitchen table?” Eddie grabs a fingerful of gravy and puts it into your mouth, you suck his finger like a Hoover vacuum licking it and swirling spit around and around. “Mmmm fuck… you like me fucking you raw? Teasing me all these goddamn years, finally giving it up to me on thanksgiving all over this table ruining the food, mmm fuck baby, this pussy is so good Jesus Christ.” Mashed potatoes are wedged in places you couldn’t even imagine, but you didn’t care. All these years wasted for what? Fuck he was so hot, his cock was fucking huge and filling you up so perfectly.

The tight coil in your lower belly is ready to snap, Eddie flips you over so your chest is flush with the filthy table. Eddie takes the whipped cream set out of the pumpkin pie and rubs it all over your ass cheeks. “Mmm look at my girl spread so pretty for me,” Eddie begins to kitten lick his name across your plump ass, “fuck baby you look so good with my name on you Jesus Christ,” Eddie runs his cock in between your folds and begins fucking you so hard you see stars.

“Eddie! Oh my G—od” you whimper as he annihilates your pussy. Green beans are squashed between your tits as Eddie fucks you mericilessly. “I’m gonna cum Eddie baby oh fuck!”

Neither of you hear the door open.

“That’s it baby, cum all over me, I wanna see you shake beneath me” Eddie’s thrusts become sloppier as you release onto him. Clamping down on him hard Eddie cums at the pressure, his hot cum filling you up and dripping out of your pussy.

“Eddie?! WHAT THE FUCK!” Gareth screams as he covers Jeff’s eyes. Dustin closes his own eyes and runs into a wall falling over and screaming.

“Happy Thanksgiving boys!” Eddie cheers to the boys as he slaps your ass, “What are you thankful for this year?”

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie smut #thanksgiving #hellfire club #Eddie Munson smut #stranger things #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson

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lifeofkaze · 5 months

Text

Scattered Stars

Saturday morning began early for Lizzie.

The sun had just begun to show its face on the horizon, its first tentative rays filtering into the dormitory, when she gently pushed her cat off her, quietly got dressed and slid from the room with her peacefully sleeping friends.

The Hufflepuff dormitory was close to abandoned, with only a handful of house elves wandering about cleaning out the fireplaces. Lizzie smiled as she passed them, even more so as her eyes fell on the other person who had just stepped into the common room.

“You’re up early, Captain,” she greeted Orion with a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s barely even light outside.”

“What’s early for one is late for the other.” Orion inclined his head. “Care to join me to greet the rising sun?”

“If only I could,” Lizzie sighed, only partly as a joke. “I’ve got a full day ahead of me. There’s loads to prepare.”

“An evening of peace tastes much sweeter after a day’s worth of work.” When Lizzie didn’t reply, he tilted his head. “You haven’t forgotten about tonight, have you?”

A smile spread on Lizzie’s face. “How could I?”

Having given her a short but sweet kiss goodbye, Lizzie pulled herself together and fetched some parchment from one of the study nooks. For now, she would have to put the thought of her date with Orion aside; she had other things to take care of first.

Almost an hour later, Lizzie wearily put down her quill. Preparing the study material for her tutoring lessons had taken longer than anticipated, and the common room had begun filling with students in different states of sleepiness. Her stomach rumbling noisily, she stuffed her notes into her bag and joined the stream of Hufflepuffs headed for the Great Hall, her mind already on the next task on her list.

After a quickly gulped-down breakfast, Lizzie made her way to the Transfiguration classroom, where a flustered-looking Andre Egwu was already awaiting her.

“Where were you?” he called out as soon as Lizzie had closed the door behind her. “I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

“I’m only five minutes late, at most.”

“Five minutes we could have spent working,” Andre tutted. “No time for squabbling now, darling. The Spring Ball is in two weeks, and I have so many outfits to finish. I’ll be forever grateful you’re helping out with modelling but I do need to ask you to get undressed now. And stop laughing,” he added when Lizzie started giggling, “this is fashion, not fun.”

Over an hour Andre directed Lizzie to try on dress after dress, turning this way and that. They were still far from done, and way behind the schedule Lizzie had worked out for the day. When Andre was finally satisfied, both their patience had worn thin, as had Lizzie’s cushion of extra time. She hurried on to the empty Charms classroom, in front of which Penny was pacing back and forth.

“The meeting of the ball committee is about to start,” she called out as soon as Lizzie was within earshot. Hectic red spots were dotting her cheeks. “What took you so long?”

“I got held up.”

“By what?”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get inside.”

The meeting turned out to be more of a chore than Lizzie had expected. The discussion turned from matters of drinks and snacks to whether Firebugs were a suitable means of providing ambience light. Lizzie grew increasingly frustrated with her peers’ unwillingness to reach any sort of conclusion and earned herself more than one irritated glance from Penny.

As soon as they were done, she shot out of her seat and from the room. When she arrived at the library slightly out of breath, Rowan had already piled up Arithmancy books and writing utensils all around her. She looked up with a frown as Lizzie slumped into the chair next to her.

“Where -”

“Yes, yes, where have I been, I know. Late, sorry.”

Rowan pushed her silvery glasses up her nose. “No, I meant, where is your bag?”

Lizzie looked down at the feet of her chair in astonishment, half-expecting to see her bag with her notes and parchment standing there. Realising she must have forgotten it either at Andre’s or Penny’s she cursed, which earned herself an indignant look from Madam Pince, and hurried to retrieve her things.

Studying usually came easy to her, but today, Lizzie had trouble concentrating. She was hungry and tired, and the topic Professor Vector had them cover rather complicated. When she was nearly done with her assignment, Rowan glanced at her parchment with a frown.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, pulling Lizzie’s parchment toward her. “That’s different from what I have.”

“Of course I am,” Lizzie said, sounding more irritated than she had meant to. Rowan had broken her from her thoughts about her upcoming tutoring session. “I did it exactly according to the book.”

“The new part, yes,” Rowan said, shaking her head, “but the base calculations are all messed up.”

Lizzie snatched her parchment back, groaning when she realised that Rowan was right.

“I’ll change it tomorrow,” Lizzie sighed, rolling up her parchment and cursing quietly when she realised the ink hadn’t fully dried yet. “Looks like I need to rewrite it anyway.”

“We can revise it together if you like.”

“I know what I’m doing, alright?” Lizzie snapped. “It was just an oversight. And I don’t have time anyway, I have some tutoring to do.”

A couple of minutes later, Lizzie arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, once again late. The parts she had prepared in the mornings went well, but when it was time to improvise what she hadn’t been able to complete beforehand, Lizzie found herself becoming increasingly snappy with the hapless students trying to turn their mice into snuff boxes.

Everyone was glad when the lesson was over. On Lizzie’s part, the sentiment faded when overheard their students whispering among each other as they left the classroom.

“What was up with her today?”

“Snapping at Maddie like that for making a small mistake.”

“Have you seen her snuff box? I swear it still had whiskers.”

Feeling the strange urge to accelerate her steps and bump into the gossiping students from behind, Lizzie let herself fall back. When they were out of earshot, she slumped into one of the cloisters, fighting the tears welling up in her eyes.

They were right. Her Transfiguration had been awful, but she had still been thinking about what Rowan had said about her assignment, and Penny’s strong case for roses in favour of peonies, and all the gossip Andre had told her without asking and her head was so full that it felt close to bursting.

The rest of her day carried on much in the same fashion. Somehow, Lizzie was always late, always distracted, and wherever she went, her annoyance grew. Hungry, tired, and thoroughly fed up, she made straight for her dormitory once she was done and curled up beneath the covers to instantly fall asleep.

She woke hours later when the door creaked and light spilt onto her face.

“Oh,” Penny’s voice gasped, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Where else would I be?” Lizzie grumbled, turning from the light and pressing her face back into the pillow.

“Don’t you have a date tonight?”

At that, Lizzie immediately sat up straight, almost falling over herself in her hurry to get changed. Hastily pulling fresh clothes from her dresser, she risked a look at the alarm on Rowan’s nightstand, cursing when she realised the time. Not bothering to give Penny a goodbye, she rushed from the dormitory and out of the common room.

By the time she reached the foot of the Astronomy Tower, she was breathing heavily. Heart still thumping in her ears, she tilted her head back to where the metal staircase in front of her spiralled upwards into darkness. Contrary to when she had first gone up there with Orion exactly one year ago, there was no moonglow lighting the way up but even from down here she could see the stars glittering through the openings in the walls.

Taking another deep breath, Lizzie began to climb. She had almost reached the top when footsteps sounded on the metal above her, prompting her to stop. A moment later, Orion came into view on his way down. A look of surprise crossed his face.

“Thank Godric you’re still here,” Lizzie blurted out before he had a chance to say anything. “I’m so so sorry for standing you up. So sorry. I just wanted to quickly lie down for a second because the day was so horrid and I must’ve fallen asleep and I… I…”

Before she could say anything more, the tears she had pushed away for the better part of the day finally spilt over. The end of her sentence got drowned in a sob, and Lizzie had never been more glad than when Orion took the last few steps separating them and closed his arms around her.

“I didn’t get to see you the whole day,” he murmured, running his hand up and down her spine in a soothing manner. “As fleeting as a gust of wind.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lizzie sniffed. “You know I didn’t. I hope you know I didn’t because I honestly didn’t.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing. Everything,” Lizzie said. She wiped at her eyes, furiously so when her tears wouldn’t stop coming. “Everything I touched today went wrong, and everybody is angry with me, and the only thing I was looking forward to was stargazing with you and now I’ve even missed that.”

“The stars will be here for a little longer, but when your mind is scattered like a pile of leaves you won’t have the mindset it takes to enjoy them,” Orion said gently. “I need you to pull your thoughts together, Chaser. I need you to be here with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I said. Come on.”

He took her by the hand and led her up the stairs until they stood on the platform of the Astronomy Tower beneath the starry sky.

“Look up,” he told her, doing so himself. “How far away they are. And yet, don’t they look so close?”

Lizzie dipped her head back, breathing in the cool night air. “As if you could touch them.”

“As if they’ve come to tell us something.”

“And what would that be?”

“Listen.”

Sceptically, Lizzie turned her face skywards again and became still. Having listened intently for several moments, she glanced at Orion from the corner of her eye.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Don’t you?”

“Not really.”

“Because I do. I hear the rush of the trees below. I hear the wind falling from the sky, blowing around the castle. I hear the beat of my own heart. Don’t you hear these things, too?”

“Sure, but…”

“That means you have arrived,” Orion said and pulled her into his arms, “right here, in this very moment.”

“Haven’t I been here before?”

“Do you think you have?” When Lizzie didn’t reply, he continued, “The whole day, your mind was torn apart, dwelling on things that lay behind you and in the future alike. Splitting yourself up like this, you won’t ever be able to live in the moment at hand, finding balance in all the small wonders surrounding us.”

“I just wanted to help my friends.”

“Have you, though?”

Lizzie hung her head. “I promised them. I can’t just go back on my responsibilities because I don’t feel like I can ‘appreciate the moment’.”

“I never said you should. A gust of wind can scatter leaves, or it can blow away the dust and leave behind nothing but clarity. It’s a matter of perspective.”

“I don’t know about this, Orion,” Lizzie sighed, resting her head against his chest. “I messed up, there’s no talking around it. We all have bad days. It is what it is.”

“One bad day shouldn’t spoil a beautiful night.”

“I’m trying, okay? It’s just not that easy to let go.”

“Then I know exactly what you need.”

He leaned in and kissed her, long and lingeringly. When he pulled away, Lizzie took an inadvertent step after him.

“I might need more of that.”

Orion laughed and turned from her, and it was only now that Lizzie saw that he was holding his wand behind his back. Before she could ask the reason, he’d already stepped towards the platform’s railing, where two slender shadows had appeared, hovering at knee level.

“You’ve summoned our broomsticks?”

“It appears to be so.”

“Why?”

Orion mounted his broom, pushing Lizzie’s towards her with his foot. “You’ll find out in a minute.”

Her curiosity sparked, Lizzie climbed onto her Silverswift and followed Orion as he steered his broomstick away from the castle. They flew down and away from the lights twinkling in the old windows, staying well out of sight, until they reached the shore of the Black Lake.

Much to Lizzie’s surprise, Orion didn’t land. He accelerated instead, going so low over the water that his feet would have gone beneath the surface had he stretched them. Confused, Lizzie did likewise. Wind whipping through her hair, she lay flat on her broomstick to become even faster, flitting over the surface of the lake until everything around her was reduced to a blur.

When they reached the middle of the lake, Orion stopped.

“Look around, Chaser,” he said, taking his hands off his broomstick and crossing them behind his head as he turned his face skyward. “Up is down. Down is up. Earth and sky, both the same.”

Still somewhat sceptical, Lizzie did as he had bade her, and the sarcastic remark on the tip of her tongue faded.

The wind that had blown around the top of the Astronomy Tower had ceased. The water beneath her feet was smooth and still, a perfect layer of black ink in which the myriad of stars in the firmament above were mirrored. The sight stretched as far as the eye could see, and as Lizzie raised her eyes, the sea of stars continued there, scattered everywhere around her, above her, below her, as if she were floating in the endless vastness of the universe.

“Up is down,” she whispered.

“The world is full of wonders, full of beauty and inspiration,” Orion said softly. “We only need to be present enough to see it.”

Lizzie pried her eyes away from the glittering star-sea, resting them on Orion and his patient, loving smile. Suddenly, her throat became constricted and she could feel the tears rise in her chest but this time for entirely different reasons. She flew closer to him, so close that she could lay her hand against his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “for everything. I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

“I wanted to show you this for a long time.”

Lizzie’s eyes went soft. “I love you, you know.”

If Orion was surprised at her admittance, he didn’t let it show. “I love you, too.”

Butterflies swarming in her stomach, Lizzie leaned in to kiss him but before their lips could touch, a sudden gust of cold water had them break apart. Too stunned to even squeal, Lizzie had just enough time to see the end of a giant tentacle vanish in a big ripple on the otherwise smooth surface.

Shaking his wet hair from his face, Orion burst out laughing.

“Something tells me the Giant Squid isn’t a fan of romance.” He chuckled at Lizzie’s dark look. “Let’s go back. This little universe around us may be beautiful, but it sure is also pretty cold.”

When they had reached the Quidditch pitch and changed into the training gear they had found in the changing rooms, Orion took Lizzie’s hand, intertwining their fingers as they made their way back to the castle.

“How do you feel now?”

Lizzie grunted. “Cold and wet.”

“And besides?”

Lizzie paused and turned her head so that she could see the surface of the Black Lake in the distance. The wind had picked up again, and it was bitingly cold and made her shudder, but it also made her feel the warmth of her cheeks, and Orion’s hand in hers, and how her body was thrumming with the heat of her blood as if there was fire coursing through her veins.

“Lizzie?” she heard Orion ask. “Are you still with me?”

“Yes,” Lizzie smiled, turning her back on the lake and its beautiful darkness and toward Orion and the light of the castle. “I’m here. Right here.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #lizzie jameson #orion amari #happy birthday lizzie #it's been quite the ride girl #but we're not finished just yet

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uloelu · 7 months

Text

Location: Windslar, Windenburg

(Transcript under the cut)

Next (Part 2)

Scene 1 - Outside the Fosters home (28 Windslar)

Wes: There you are. Thought you might have run away already.

Haven: God, you’re clingy. I checked out a record store in Copperdale with Cassandra. Pretty fucking cool. The perfect place for a jam sesh.

Wes: Cassie, huh? You move fast.

Haven: Very funny. You know she’s dating someone, right? That Sidney Price guy.

Wes: So?

Haven: So, I’m not her type in the slightest. I might as well get used to being a lonely Windenburg farmer.

Wes: Well, then, allow me to be your fairy godmother. Got an invite to a nightclub from Wolf. Remember him? The club’s all the way in Evergreen Harbor, but he swears by it. Here, I’ll send you his text.

Haven: Got it. Dew Point? What kind of name is that?

Wes: They’re weird in the Harbor. But they’ve allegedly got good drinks, they don’t check IDs too closely, and weed’s legal there. What’s not to like?

Haven: And you’re sure it’ll be...my kind of scene? You know what I mean.

Wes: Haven, Haven, Haven. When have I ever led you astray?

Haven: Well—

Wes: On second thought, you don’t need to answer that. Wolf seems right up your alley—don’t think I’ve seen him in anything other than black outside of school. You’ll love him.

Scene 2 - Inside the Fosters home

Heather: Thanks so much for staying over, Rani. To be honest, I thought I’d be all alone on my birthday.

Rani: Alone? You’ve got 5 other teens in this house! I’m jealous, honestly.

Heather: I guess so...but I’ve only known them for a few days. Chloe’s nice, but she’s always at soccer practice or the gym.

Rani: I get it. I know we don’t know you that well, but Marissa and I had fun. And sorry she had to duck out so early—her parents might actually keel over and die if she misses a single science fair.

Heather: That’s all right. I’ll see you both in school on Monday. Have a safe trip back to Oasis Springs!

Scene 3 - Inside the Fosters home

Haven: Makeup done, hair done...I clean up pretty good!

Cassandra, on the phone: [Why am I traveling all the way to the Harbor tonight?]

Haven: Because your new BFF needs a wingwoman. Some guy named Wolf invited Wes to a club, and Wes invited me, and I don’t know anybody else there.

Cassandra: [Wolf invited you guys? He said he had work tonight! That bastard.]

Haven: You know him?

[Do I know Wolfgang Metzinger? snorts Only since he bit my arm when I wouldn’t share my chorizo back in second grade. That asshole’s usually one of my best friends.]

Cassandra: Haven: Usually.

Cassandra: [He does stupid shit sometimes. Can’t help it.]

Haven: Well, let’s hope he’s trustworthy tonight. When I go too long without a date, I shrivel up like a raisin and waste away.

Cassandra: [Haven, you’re sixteen. Dramatic much?]

Haven: Seventeen as of next week, and hardly. [pauses] All right, Wes is ready to go. I’ll be waiting for you at Dew Point, and if you want me to remain a voluptuous grape, then I’ll see you there.

Cassandra: [Never say those words in that order again.]

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ismelinor · 9 months

Text

Who did it better? (1/2)

Read on AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic | word count: 2,035

Summary: When things aren’t adding up following the events of Dreamland, Mulder and Scully look for evidence of what happened. They find the CCTV footage of them leaving Kersh’s office… i.e. a contrived situation which allows Mulder and Scully to watch ‘Mulder’ slap Scully on the butt.

It started small, with two coins fused together and a general sense of wrongness. The term was vague and un-scientific, and she’d never hear the end of it if she said it to Mulder – but nevertheless, something was just off.

It was like…when you wake up from the deepest of deep sleeps (which was a distant dream to her – when was the last time she’d woken to anything other than an alarm, the phone ringing, or Mulder pounding at her door?) and it takes a few minutes to remember who and where you are. She’d felt like that walking away from the confrontation at Area 51: What was she doing there? Who was the man standing next to her? What day was it?

Only – the feeling hadn’t quite faded the way it usually did after a shower and a cup of coffee. No, everything still felt…out of focus.

And then there were the odd little knick-knacks that kept appearing. The fused dime and penny was weird enough, but then she found a handful of sunflower seeds in the pocket of her overcoat – and then a folded up paper doily, stamped Little A’le Inn, Rachel – and then, the kicker, a receipt for a pack of Morleys from a gas station in Nevada tucked into her drawer, when she knew she and Mulder hadn’t stopped on their way back. She called the bank to query the expense: they had no record of the payment. None of it made any sense.

~~~

It would have taken Scully a long time to admit out loud that a few sunflower seeds and errant receipts here and there were making her question reality. Fortunately, Mulder had no such qualms. He pulled her aside after lunch one day, and launched right into it: “Scully, I think we’ve experienced some sort of time jump.”

Scully just blinked at him.

“It’s not unheard of, you know. There’s several well-documented cases in the files: individuals who unaccountably knew what was going to happen, or claimed to have brought items from the past or the future.” Off the look she was giving him, he added, “Need I remind you that you’re the one with a thesis defending the possibility of time travel?”

He’d brought it up enough times that she had little hope of forgetting it. She sighed. “What makes you think we’ve travelled in time?”

“Ever since we got back from Area 51, I’ve been finding these…these relics of a week I know I didn’t live. My apartment’s all cleaned up – I’ve got a waterbed now – yesterday I found a pair of handcuffs on my pillow.” Scully raised an eyebrow. He leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Scully, I might forget a little spring cleaning, but you know I wouldn’t forget handcuffs.”

Scully tried to bite back her smile. “Those have all happened to you, Mulder, and frankly they sound like symptoms of early-onset dementia. You said we experienced a time jump. How am I involved?”

“Scully, I’ve seen you take those coins out of your drawer a hundred times today alone. Tell me you’re not finding things too.”

She wasn’t ready to concede yet, so she said, “These could all be accounted for by someone playing a strange prank on us. Why are you so ready to believe it’s time travel?”

“When I focus on these objects, I start to remember the other timeline. It’s fuzzy, but it’s there: I remember going inside Area 51, Scully. It was like I was living someone else’s life for a week. There were these bratty teenagers – I think I had a wife, even. It was awful. The problem is, I get this headache every time I try to remember.”

Scully sighed. “It’s the power of suggestion, Mulder. You already had this theory, and now your mind is filling in the gaps.”

Mulder grinned. “I have proof. Well, the lone gunmen have proof, but I’m going over this evening to check it out. They called me just now because their systems registered an anomaly: a blip in the CCTV recording of their office. When they looked over the footage from yesterday, they saw you and me talking to them for almost half an hour. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly sure I was eating pizza on my couch all yesterday evening.”

Scully raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Come on, Mulder. It’s far more likely that they mixed up the footage from yesterday with another day.”

“They’re not just pretty faces, Scully: they’re tech experts. Don’t you trust their abilities?”

“Trust them? Mulder, they’re the most paranoid, delusional people I’ve ever met. Byers I might listen to, but Langley and Frohike think they’re living out James Bond, when-”

“When they’re a little more Revenge of the Nerds?” Mulder finished.

Scully grimaced. He wasn’t wrong.

“What, you don’t like that one?”

“Mulder, I’m a woman with a PhD in physics. If I wanted to see angry, sexually aggressive nerds, I’d open my yearbook.”

Mulder laughed delightedly. “Alright, Scully, just pretend you agree with me for a minute. Focus on the coin and see if you remember anything.”

She huffed but closed her eyes. That coin was strange: like two objects trying to occupy the same space – a perversion of the most basic laws of physics. And, casting her mind back, it was like…like two memories were trying to occupy the same space in her hippocampus. “I remember…I think I remember a gas station…and sitting with you in Kersh’s office…you were acting strange…and, oh, I remember going over to your place…huh, I remember your bedroom, and the handcuffs-” She opened her eyes wide to take in Mulder’s expression, already shifting from surprise to a smirk. She blushed; damn her complexion, never hid anything. “Not like that. I handcuffed you to the bed-” Mulder raised an eyebrow and she reddened even more. “Not like that. You weren’t…you.”

None of it made sense. Her memory must be confused: yes, just like Mulder, she must be creating false memories out of the objects they’d found. Her head was pounding all of a sudden.

Mulder hummed. “Well, if video tape captures this…alternate version of events, why don’t we check out the CCTV here? You said we were in Kersh’s office: maybe we can catch us leaving.”

Scully was too curious to argue, so she followed him up to the security office. It didn’t take much to convince the guard on duty to look out the tapes for them – which was slightly concerning, actually. When he came back to the desk, he was frowning. “There’s two tapes of the sixth floor corridor from Tuesday. I don’t know how they got mixed up.”

Mulder shrugged, taking them both. Scully thanked the guard and followed Mulder to the lift.

“We can’t watch these in the bullpen, or we’ll get questions. My place or yours?”

“Yours. But we’re waiting till after work, Mulder. We’re on thin enough ice as it is: I’m not risking suspension over a weird coin and a pair of handcuffs.”

Mulder sighed like the petulant child he was but took his seat anyway. Back to piles of manure.

~~~

Sitting by his side on Mulder’s leather couch, Scully could almost pretend that they were normal people. When he held out the two tapes for her to choose between, she could imagine that he was letting her pick a movie: that he’d put the tape in, grab them beers from the fridge, and they’d lounge around and laugh at the bad special effects.

But no, of course not. They were examining unethically obtained CCTV footage to investigate whether there had been a rip in the space-time continuum. A much more sensible use of her Friday afternoon. She pointed to Mulder’s right hand and he put the tape in. The time stamp read 13:00, Tuesday. They watched as grainy FBI agents rushed up and down the hall, a few familiar faces here and there. Mulder picked up the remote and put the tape on 2x, then 5x speed. The agents zoomed every which way, but there was no sign of Mulder or Scully. The only people to walk in or out of Kersh’s office were his secretary and Kersh himself. Nada.

Mulder switched the tapes. 13:00, Tuesday, again. The same camera angle. It even looked to be the same agents bustling down the corridor – Scully spotted Stonecypher at 13:14, just like in the first tape. Huh. Someone must have copied the tape: it was strange, but not outside the realm of possibility. But then-

Scully stared at the screen incredulously: Mulder was right. There they were, walking out of Kersh’s office at 13:35, when Scully knew for a fact that they’d never been to that meeting. How the hell was that possible? They sat forward on the sofa simultaneously. On the screen, they stopped just outside the office. It was hard to read their expressions in the grainy image, but it looked like Scully was giving him a dressing down. Mulder walked back into the office and Scully threw up her hands in frustration, clearly watching him through the doorway. After a few moments, Mulder walked out again and – and –

Scully sputtered out “Did you just-” at the same time as Mulder’s “Did I just-”. She wheeled on him, flushed with disbelief and anger. “You just slapped me on my ass!”

Mulder put his hands up like she was pointing a gun at him – and there was an idea – and coughed up a rather pathetic barrage of “No – I didn’t”s and “I wouldn’t”s. And then – he started to laugh.

She gaped at him in outrage, a perfect match for her doppelganger on the screen. He attempted to rein in his laugher.

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s not funny – it’s just – I mean, come on, Scully, there’s no way you can think that’s really me.”

Scully narrowed her eyes at him, but – well, he had a point. Mulder could be a flirt – he was incorrigible, really – but he’d never crossed the line. Even when it really, really seemed like he would. Given the two tapes with the same time stamp, the strange objects popping up and the confused state of their memories – yes, she was willing to concede that the Mulder on the tape might not be (for lack of a better word) her Mulder.

Still, she wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. “What are the chances that two different people are somehow able to impersonate you perfectly? And what are the chances that they both use this fantastical power to hit on me?”

Mulder raised an eyebrow in an expression she assumed was meant to convey: oh, we’re talking about Eddie now, are we?

She raised an eyebrow right back at him: serves you right for laughing, asshole.

“Well, Scully, once you’ve eliminated the impossible, and all that.”

“I think we have different definitions of impossible, Mulder. I’d call two separate men with uncanny shapeshifting abilities pretty impossible.”

Mulder grinned and she nudged his shoulder to let him know she’d forgiven him. For now.

“I don’t think we’re gonna get any more from the CCTV, and thinking about it is hurting my head,” said Mulder. “I’m going over to Byers’ to check out their tape. You wanna join?”

If anyone had told Scully six years ago that she’d be happy – excited, even – to spend her Friday evenings drinking cheap beer and debating the likelihood of time travel with four conspiracy nuts, she’d have laughed in their face. Today, though, she just ducked her head and smiled.

“If we can pick up food on the way. I’m never eating Langley’s cooking again.”

Mulder handed over her coat. As they left his apartment, he turned to her and asked, “For future reference, who did it better, Eddie or Tape Guy?”

Sculled rolled her eyes. He had nerve, she’d give him that. “I’d prefer a bottle of wine to a slap on the ass, if that’s what you’re asking.” Mulder smirked. “But, for future reference, you do it better than either of them.”

That wiped the smirk off his face.

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s-creations · 9 months

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Dude DUDE I ABSOLUTELY LOVE ur writing. U have a way of just weaving everything into this beautiful tapestry of a story. I'm in absolute awe. I really like ur YPRG Au!! Anything related to it I inhale. It's so cool and interesting the way every character interacts with each other and the world. And I'm so so soft for both sets of bros🥺. Would it be ok if u did 🌱 and ☁️ for them? Only if u want to of course no pressure!!

First off, THANK YOU! This was an awesome message to wake up to! This is going to sound absolutely corny, but I love hearing from people about my stories. Because there are some times where I really don’t feel confident in what I’ve written. It’s nice to hear/read that I’m somewhat competent. Again, thank you for the kind words!

I too am also soft for the bros. XD

With that said, I’d be happy to answer your emoji asks! (Original Post)

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

Wario - When Waluigi was born, though he’ll never ever admit it. He swears if he was even remotely artistically competent, he’d be able to paint a picture of what the room looked like, where their parents were, and how it looked when he got to hold Waluigi for the first time. It’s so well stamped into his mind that he recalls it on days he’s really stressed out. As a reminder for why he keeps working so hard.

Waluigi - The first ‘invention’ he and Wario made. He barely spoke at the time as Wario knew what Waluigi needed, so he never had to ask for anything. But working on making a prototype for their ‘Chores Robot’ (so the worry of keeping the house clean wasn’t such a burden), it was the first time that Waluigi took over. Telling Wario what he needed and what part needed to go where. Even if it didn’t work (seriously, why the heck did they think sticks and rocks would be good materials?) Waluigi was still thrilled by the idea of building.

Mario - It was a conversation between him and his father. Learning about how sick Luigi was and how scary it could be. But also talking about what they could do, together, to keep the younger twin safe. It was the first promise Mario made to anyone. A promise to his parents, said to his father, that he would keep Luigi safe and well, no matter what. Because he loves Luigi, and he wouldn’t let anything keep them apart if he could help it.

Luigi - When he was able to go outside for the first time. While the twins were a little older at this point, Luigi’s early early memories consisted of white walls and doctors. This was the first solid memory he had. He remembered it was nearing the end of Spring, if not already in Summer, when he saw something outside the window that he really wanted to see. He was well enough to leave the house, but still fearful, until Mario agreed to take him outside. While he could only reach the edge of the patio, he was still able to get a better look at the flowers that interested him. Mario told him they were looking at roses. Those are his favorite flower to this day.

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

Wario - He loves to hear Waluigi snoring. It lets him know that his brother’s still there. He wouldn’t listen to it on end, but it’s a comforting reminder.

Waluigi - He started to learn how to cook so it was one less burden Wario and his mother had to deal with. But he says it's because no one in the family besides himself knows what spices work together.

Mario - He’s very shy about it, but he loves to sing. Mainly to Luigi with a lullaby from their childhood, on days when they're feeling nostalgic and missing their parents. But…if asked…he wouldn’t say ‘no’ if Peach asked to hear him.

Luigi - He took up baking as a way to stay close to their mom, as well as to learn how to embrace every second given to him. Because nothing lets you think about life like waiting for cake to rise.

#luigi #mario #mario and luigi #wario and waluigi #wario #waluigi #yellow purple red green #s-creations #creator speaks #answering asks #emoji ask game

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yeehawbvby · 1 year

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Leah with a farmer that was trying to be an artist, but got stuck in the dead-end Joja job and decided to quit to be a farmer, but now they miss being able to make art cause there's like no time in the day for it, so Leah sets up a whole thing for them to just make art for a whole day.

I’ve barely written for Leah before, so fingers crossed this is alright!! :’) Hope you don't mind the established relationship either.

Thanks so much for your patience, I hope you enjoy! x

Down by the River (Leah x GN!Reader)

Rating: G | WC: 933

Sometimes when I’m out amidst my crops, I lay down for a bit and look up at the sky. I study the way the clouds make vivid shapes from their vapor; how birds fly in a perfect pattern, going Yoba knows where; the way the inner atmosphere of our planet looks hand-painted by Lupini himself.

Other times, I’ll sit amongst my chickens and ducklings by the pond, amazed at how brightly their feathers contrast against the dull dirt, and how the water sparkles as it splashes against their plump little bodies that float atop it.

There’s so much beauty in nature, and while I love what I do, I want nothing more than to be able to create something just as beautiful as the scenery I work in every day, of every month, of every year.

My wife gets to do such things for a living. I love Leah more than life itself, but I can’t help the jealousy that seeps through me as I watch her etch away at old wood, or paint anything she wants on hand-stretched canvas at any given time of the day. It’s one of the things I love most about her – her love for art being just as fierce as mine – but I wish I could be at her side, collaborating on pieces, or simply being in each other’s presence while we do our own thing.

One early spring morning, I wake up to an empty bed. I’m used to this, though. Leah’s always been an early bird. Unlike most mornings, there’s a note waiting for me on her pillow.

“Hope you slept well <3

There’s something I wanna show you! Meet me at my place at 10.

(Don’t worry about the farm – I got up extra early to water the crops and feed the animals.)

Enjoy your morning off! :)

P.S. There’s some freshly cut fruit in the fridge, if you want some with your breakfast!”

Relief washes over me as I lay back down on my pillow. Even through winter, I’m often busy cleaning the barns and coops or upkeeping our wine and cheese fermentation... It’s been so long since I’ve been able to simply be, much less spend even a few mere hours with my love. I take the opportunity she’s given me to sleep in a little bit longer.

_______________

As I approach Leah’s cottage, I shift through a few different emotions.

First up is confusion. What’s all this stuff laid out on her front lawn? There’s a huge, yellow gingham picnic blanket sprawled by the river, with a small record player next to it. The blanket is covered in paints, small canvases, wood blocks, clay…

My second feeling is happiness. I notice that on the blanket is also a bottle of Blue Moon wine, with two cups and two water bottles all placed neatly in a straw basket. There are two palettes and two sets of brushes of varying sizes. Two sets of pencils, charcoals, pastels; two clusters of tools to carve and sculpt with.

Third? Love. Having expected me, Leah exits her old home just as I near her set-up. Her hair, as usual, is draped to the side in a long braid, but today she’s woven small flowers into it. Her freckled, sun-kissed cheeks are dusted beautifully pink as she looks at me from large, periwinkle eyes, waiting for my reaction to her surprise.

“Do you like it?” she asks, basking in the scene she’s created. “I know it’s been bugging you that you never really have time to make your own art, so I figured we could spend the day doing just that!”

I nod, tears welling in my eyes. “Leah, this is perfect,” I sniffle, pulling her into my arms. Her hugs have always been just as warm and welcoming as her paintings. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you.” She pulls away from my embrace, takes my hands in hers, and meets my lips with a soft kiss before explaining herself. “You’re the reason I’m able to spend as much time on personal projects as I do commissioned work. You’ve given me the best life I could’ve asked for.”

Leah beams at me, and I swear her smile makes my stomach flutter with butterflies. She continues softly, “You know, you can ask me for help on the farm any time you want. I know you take pride in your work, but you deserve time to do the things you love too. Okay?”

I nod again, feeling a weight that I didn’t know my shoulders bore being lifted off them. Untangling our fingers, I cup Leah’s face and kiss her again. “I love you so much.” Placing my forehead gently against hers, I whisper, “Seriously, thank you for this.”

“I love you too.” My wife plants a kiss on the tip of my nose before pulling away again. She playfully quips, “You can thank me by making some cool stuff for me to look at! Come on!”

I follow her onto the blanket, my cheeks sore from grinning so widely. “Let me draw your portrait?”

“Only if I can paint yours!” she counters.

Having been so long since I’ve last made anything, I start off feeling a bit rusty. But just as fluidly as the river flows, I sink back into a familiar rhythm. With some of the most picturesque scenery one could ever imagine, everything I need to create anything I want within an arm’s reach, and my amazing partner at my side, I have the most perfect day I could’ve asked for.

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susiron · 1 year

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I’m still rlly bummed out about going to my local park right now.

For years now, mostly during late spring-early fall, I’ve been biking to the park in my neighborhood and drawing with chalk on the concrete of the picnic area. Part of the concrete sticks out away from the picnic tables so it’s a perfect spot to draw-- and it sticks out from under the roof so the rain usually washes it all away in a reasonable time frame.

I never draw or write anything derogatory. I mostly draw dragons, wolves, and other animals-- sometimes Pokemon, sometimes plants. Sometimes if there’s a holiday nearby, like Halloween, then I’ll draw something that fits the theme.

I’ve even drawn little “Happy Pride!” things before during June with gay and trans flags.

But earlier this week I went and drew with my chalk and I decided to include the gay and trans flags next to a doodle of a cat. I cannot stress enough that these were small drawings, and not at all the focus of what I’d drawn. They were just little doodles in the corner, completely eclipsed by a bunch of wolves and dragons and shit.

WELL, two days later I come back to the park, thinking I’ll just draw around what I left their earlier in the week-- only to find that someone had clinically powerwashed away everything I’d drawn.

And like, there was a brief moment where I thought “did it rain? did it rain and I forgot?” but I could see the telltale lines from a powerwasher

But it gets worse.

Cause if they’d powerwashed the entire thing, I could have just assumed that they didn’t like any chalk on the patio (despite this never happening before, over Years of drawing here), but... there were some doodles made by kids Right next to where I had drawn, and they were all left untouched. Faded doodles that had been there awhile, but they were visible enough that anyone who was cleaning this patio just for the purpose of cleaning it would have gotten rid of those two.

But no, they just got rid of my stuff-- all of it. And the only difference between this time and every other time was that my drawings had a gay and trans flag beside them outside of Pride month.

I drew a bunch that day after finding that out-- and I put back a new pride flags. Again, they weren’t the focus, but they’re there. They mean a lot to me and shouldn’t upset anyone, but like-- of course they do.

And I guess I just liked thinking that maybe there was no one in my neighborhood hateful enough to methodically wash away a little trans flag (because I can only assume that, of the two, was the tipping point). And now having proof that someone is is just... depressing.

With everything going on these days-- with all of the fucking hate directed at trans people like an arrow-- it’s just fucking upsetting that you can’t even put the colors down without someone needing to fight back and show just how much they hate you.

I’m a trans artist who has drawn in that park for years, and I’ve had nothing but positive interactions with people while doing so (excluding the First time I did it when I got harassed, but, well, that’s not important right now).

And god it just sucks that the moment you are like “this is important to me” all of that positivity gets tainted.

I haven’t been back there yet to see if the new flags got erased. Idk if they have been, and idk if I want to know if they have been. I also don’t really know if I want to make this an entire Thing, me trying to put it back every time it gets erased.

It’s funny, had they not erased it, I probably wouldn’t have drawn another one until June, but now...

And now I’m worried that someone might approach me directly when I got there to draw, or maybe they’ll just start erasing everything I put down there as soon as I leave the park.

It just fucking sucks. I just wanna draw with some chalk and share some doodles, not feel like shit-- angry-- over it.

#susi howls #trans things #susi growls

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abellyfulloffriends · 6 months

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Evergreen

I’ve had this story in my drafts for months and forgot it existed so I finally decided to post it somewhere.

Story contains: Soft, Safe, Nonfatal and Nonsexual Vore. Willing/Unwilling Vore. G/T Vore. Borrower Siblings, Human third party. ANGST SO MUCH ANGST. Hurt/Comfort. Switching perspectives. Also typos.

Jericho

Cold temperatures were lower than I ever expected this early. We’ve had a few too many nights where it falls below freezing, and it’s not even November. With such a low yield, My sister, Chloe, and I won’t be able to stay and shelter in place again. We barely made it by last year, and spent the spring recovering after she got sick. The two of us were bringing back what little we could find today, over the last week we picked the forest clean. Every berry picked, and every tree nut gathered. We even took the bitter weeds.

“This isn’t going to be enough. We wouldn't last even a month on this.” Chloe worries. She worries a lot. I offer to carry her satchel. She hands it over to me and wraps her tail around her body. “I’m cold Jericho…”

I don’t let her words get to me, if I stop to panic, neither of us will get through the winter. We trudge through the damp leaf litter. The wind whistles through the trees, and it is freezing across my bare face. Chloe huffs and runs ahead, bracing against the wind and pushing her body underneath a marked tree stump. She lifts a wooden door built into the side and I usher myself inside.

Chloe lays down on her side on the raised bed of evergreen needles. I set down our haul and began to get a fire going, striking for sparks. “Can you look through and see what needs to be eaten first? You should eat.” Chloe reaches over and silently opens her satchel first, flinching her hand back as she reaches in. “You okay?” I take notice of the splinters in her fingers. She carefully puts her hand back in and pulls out a clutch of acorns. “Here. These will go bad soon.”

I put down the flint and reach over for her hand, softly holding her wrist. “Hey, you okay?”

She sets down the acorns next to the firewood. “Just… scared.” She relents. “I’m worried about us, making it through the winter.” She sighs. “Thanks for asking, honestly, I’m also sore, these acorns are huge, and it's hard to haul them like this.” Chloe was right, being only six inches tall makes it hard to carry anything that wasn’t nearly microscopic.

I crack open an acorn, splitting it between the two of us. “I think we should try to propagate the dandelions during winter, in order to keep food stocks up.”

Chloe smiles, then frowns. “I wish it were that simple, but the soil is so dry and dead nothing grows, even weeds, sure they can handle the cold, but with the temperature not changing they won’t get water.” She slowly reaches for my hand, “Actually, I wanted to ask you about my plan.” I morph my face quizzically.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

She nods, “Thank you. Well, back in summer, I spent a lot of time on my own, and met some other borrowers. I want to try something they suggested. We should borrow from a human. I know you don’t like the idea, but it’s getting desperate.”

I crush another acorn under my foot. “That’s suicide.” I say flatly. “Humans eat borrowers like us, as do their pets. We’re nothing but prey to them.”

Chloe sighs under her breath, “I knew you’d act like this, but I can’t say I agree this time. I heard stories, Jericho. Stories about-”

“Stories. I heard stories too, and I’ve seen it too, you’ll get yourself killed.” I interject.

“It’s not that simple!” She raises her voice. “We will starve to death if we stay, I know you hate humans, you never made that a secret, but I have a plan. I won’t stay long, they don’t even have to know I’m there. I’ll get some supplies and drop them off by the river.” Chloe starts to shake, “I won’t be gone long, and I won’t overstay my welcome.”

I hang my head, “You better come back.”

Chloe looks at me, “Does that mean?”

“Yes. Go. But please be careful Chloe, and don’t get noticed.”

She quickly begins to gather a few things. I know I can’t argue with her, she’s always been headstrong, and as stubborn as me. She really does share my blood. “Here, take this too.” I hand her my gathering blade. “Just in case.”

Chloe

Jericho warned me a few dozen more times before I left that night. I bundled myself up a bit further, and made sure to bring my favorite gear. Sneaking into the human’s home wasn’t the most difficult thing, I managed to pick the lock on the window, a trick I learned last summer, with Jericho’s blade. My brother worries an awful lot for me, but I care more about making sure we get fed, then entertain his phobia. Humans can’t be all that bad, after two days of hiding out here, I haven’t been noticed, and I’ve collected enough food to last us the next month, a few more trips and by the end of week we would be set. I set out into the doorway near the kitchen.

The loud footsteps sound around the corner from across the room. I roll underneath a fallen article of clothing. I peak out as the human walks past. The size between us is difficult to describe. They tower over my hiding place, and reach down. The human grasps onto a plush cloth next to me. I cover my mouth, making sure not to give myself away. “Perfect, this will go perfectly with that cute top!” Mercifully, the human seems preoccupied. Soon enough they leave, giving me an opportunity to dash. Using my climbing gear, built out of scrap and threaded twine, the same gear my brother and I use to scale large trees, I hop up onto the lowest drawer of the cabinet, then looping the gear around the next handle, off the floor and into the drawer. I heard the sound of footsteps again, I quickly shut the drawer on myself and held my breath. Muffled through the wood I hear their voice again, “Mmm, Chocolate!” The carefree voice and lilt make me chuckle a bit, before I suddenly cup my mouth. I have to focus.

Soon, it’s nothing but silence. I push out against the drawer, but it doesn’t budge. The climbing gear is wedged between the lip of the drawer and the sliding railing. I wrap the rope of the gear around my wrist, and pull on it with my other hand, I extend the body weight and I feel a give. I pull it with my all, until the rope snaps. The force launches me backward, knocking me out.

As I open my eyes, the back of my head aches. And I can see light pouring from the slit in the drawer. I stumble forward to reach out for it, bumping my head on the top drawer. I cry out in pain, holding my head and falling over. Taking a second to breathe, I noticed a spot of dried blood on my forehead. I attempt to regain my composure. I push the pain back in my head and peek out of the drawer. I’m met with a strange sight, and blinding lights. Straining my vision, I make out the form of my satchel. Sitting on the floor, along with a gathering of small snacks. The lights seem to dim as I get closer, then it gets dark, looking up, the horror sets in as the human locks eyes with me. My body freezes.

“Hi there, little borrower.” Their voices sing. “You look hurt, do you need something for your head?” My voice is gone, I don’t know what to do. What would Jericho do? “Can you speak? Or at least understand me?” The human takes a step closer, holding something in their hand. “Here, have some chocolate!” The same tone from earlier. I get a sudden warmth in my chest, and before I know it, I’m holding out my hands. They place a small piece in my hands. “Oh! Where are my manners, I’m Brianna.”

I take a small nip of the chocolate. It’s sweet and incredibly rich. The rush of flavor forces me to smile. “C-Chloe…”

Brianna chuckles. “Chloe? That was your name? I love it!” The girl's cheerful demeanor invites me in. “So Chloe, what brings you here? I’m guessing you’re borrowing from me.” I don’t respond, and hesitate to move. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind at all, little one. I’m assuming you’re hungry then?”

“Please… Don’t hurt me…”

The human holds her hands to her chest, and kneels down slowly. “I won’t. You’re safe here, little one. There have been borrowers around here before, I’m more than happy to accommodate. May I pick you up?”

I shove the last bit of chocolate in my mouth and slowly nod, “Just… don’t eat me…” Brianna offers her hand to me and I tentatively place my knees down on her fingers. I expect her to suddenly grab me, but she remains steady. She hands me my satchel, and lifts me up to the countertop. I’m set down gingerly. The girl takes a single finger and strokes my hair. “You remind me of my dolls, uh, no offense of course.” She hands me a cloth, “Use this for your head, and rest your eyes. I’m going to make some soup for us.”

“Soup?” I inquire.

“Yes,” She snickers, “Because anything else would be hard to portion for you, soup is easy and quick and warm. And I suck at cooking, so I can’t mess it up either.”

Brianna and I exchange stories as the soup cooks. I tell her my favorite forest games as a kid, she describes the disasters she made in the kitchen. I slowly ease into telling this human my situation, confiding that my brother and I need help.

“Oh my sweet dear, that's terrible!” She tears her eyes off the stove. “Why didn't you tell me that before, I would be more than happy to take you both in for the winter.” Lightning surges in my chest.

“Wait… Really?” I’m incredulous. “You’d actually do that for two random strangers?”

Brianna doesn’t hesitate to respond, “Sure! After what you told me about how sick you got and how hard last winter was, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I knew I could have made a difference for you. Please extend my word to your brother, I’m sure you can win him over.” Brianna grabs a bowl for herself and a small saucer for me, and pour warm soup into our dishes. “Enjoy, Chloe. I bet you haven’t had a warm meal like this in forever. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that.”

I take a sip of the soup, notes of celery and chicken dance on the taste buds. “Aww thanks, I will definitely tell him.” I drink more of the soup with fervor. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Brianna smiles warmly as I wipe my mouth. We both share a good laugh.

Jericho

I crest the hill, the sounds of midafternoon crickets are nearly everywhere as I eye up the river. It’s been nearly a week now of borrowing. My heart relaxes as I spot my sister sitting on the grass. I sit down next to her and embrace her lightly. “Glad to see you made it out. I really don’t like this, but I have to admit it was great getting all this food for the winter.” She sighs.

“I told you. I got this, I’m not in any danger.” Chloe stands. “Come on, let's go home, I can’t wait to go back for another haul tomorrow.” Her smile was infectious.

Yet I can’t help but wonder if she’s suddenly an adrenaline junkie, getting excited by risking her skin. “Aren’t you having a bit too much fun with this?” What are you not telling me, what happened between then and now? “Did anything happen while you were in there?”

Chloe looks me in the eye and stops walking. She groans, “Look, it’s not important right now, let's get home before dark.” Did she just dodge my question? “I’m okay, man, you don’t have to interrogate me.”

“I’m not!” I defend myself. “I’m worried! You’re in a house with a vicious monster, and I just want to know if you’re okay.” Sometimes it confuses me how she can be so casual around the subject of humans, doesn’t she know what they are?

“Vicious Monster? You don’t even know her.”

“...Her?...”

Chloe covers her mouth.

“What are you not telling me? Did the human notice you?”

“Her name is Brianna.” She sits under her breath.

Is she implying that she met the human? She couldn’t have, they would have killed her if she did. “Chloe, what are you saying?”

She shouts in frustration. “Fuck! Jericho, you are delusional!” I flinch. “All you’ve ever done is try to put this version of humans in my head that they’re some kind of rabid animal. Yet Brianna has treated me with more kindness and respect than you ever have!” Tears fill her eyes, all I can do is watch. “Furthermore, you always doubt my ability, yet all I’ve ever done for you is try to help you! Why are you like this?”

I raise my voice, “Because I can’t lose you too! I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help but be harsh because I want to survive! Being a borrower sucks, it’s a constant survival mission!”

“Then come with me! I forgive you, you're my brother, and no matter how much you hurt me, I still love you, because you are all I have.” She leans in to hug me. I don’t resist. “Even if you don’t trust the human, you can trust me. I only want what’s best for us, as a family.”

Tears are staining my eyes and I refuse to cry in front of her, I have to be strong. I don’t want her to see how much pain I’m in. “I- I can’t.” I hitch my breathing and force myself to calm. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Chloe hugs me tighter. “You’ll come with me when you realize that I’m not the enemy. Brianna will be more than happy to help you understand how hurt you are, she already has helped me over the last few days. She’s the reason I’ve been happier. She can be trusted.”

I don’t respond.

Chloe

Brianna holds my small form in her hands and breathes softly, leaning back on her reclining chair. “How are you feeling? After that fight with your brother?” Her heartbeat is loud enough I can hear it just sitting on her torso.

“Better. I’m glad I came back here. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” I look up at her and smile, dropping it as I hang my head. “I just don’t know why he’s so freaking stubborn, is something I did wrong?” I just met this human, but I feel like I could tell her anything. “I know he’ll come around, I love my brother so much, and I know he’s hurting.”

Brianna gently holds me closer. “You’re doing the right thing.” She hums a soothing tune. “My sister is like this too. She went off to college and became super distant. I was so sad and angry that I didn’t know how to talk to her. But we eventually made up, I told her how I felt, and she admitted how hurt she was, so I find it reassuring that you see the same in your brother, you’re doing good, Chloe.”

I didn’t notice I started crying. “Thank you. Gosh.” The sobs of relief and validation tug at my heartstrings. “You barely know me, why are you so kind to me? And why do they always seem to understand?” What I don’t say is, ‘I knew my brother my whole life, and he was never this kind, at least, not after Mom died.’

“Simple, really. Kindness is easy for me, and grated I don’t struggle nearly as hard as you borrowers do. You fight for survival and have to prioritize that over the nuance of building a relationship. So in that, I understand your brother, you don’t have to be so hard on him. But I do understand how hurt you are by him.” Brianna slowly gets up, “Want to get some sleep? You’ve had a long day.”

“Yes please.”

After cleaning herself up for the night, Brianna sets me down on the bed, and rubs the back of her neck. “I don’t know how much you trust me, but I wanted to ask you something. And…” She nervously laughs. “...Don’t freak out on me, just hear me out?”

Oddly enough I don’t feel the need. “Sure, lay it on me!” I extend a cheery tone to help ease her anxiety. “I trust you, you’ve already proven you’re trustworthy a few times now.”

“So, I can control my… stomach. I can change my hormones so my stomach doesn’t digest.” I didn’t expect to hear that, but it intrigued me greatly. “And also, it will be the first snow tonight, and I don’t want you to be cold…” She takes a breath. “May I eat you, Chloe? You’d be safe, I promise.” She’s eager and awaits my response it seems.

I don’t really know how to respond to such a new concept. Surely she’s telling me the truth. If she wanted to hurt me surely she would have done so when I was knocked out earlier this week. She understands my brother’s hurt, and offered to help us through winter. If she wanted to kill me, she wouldn’t have done all this for me. “You know what? Go ahead! Sounds like fun honestly!” I don’t know what came over me, but the idea excited me somehow, surely it must be warm inside a person.

“Really? Are you sure, you don’t have to!”

“Really! I’ve never been eaten before!”

“...”

The room erupts with laughter. Brianna chirps with her joy, and I can’t believe I’m about to be eaten by a human, especially after my brother warned me, but after this week, why wouldn’t I?

Brianna lifts me to face, we’re eye level now. “I’m going to taste you for a bit before I swallow you, if you ever get uncomfortable or scared we can stop, I won’t hurt you.” She reassures me once more. I already trust her, and give her a verbal confirmation. With any further hesitation, Brianna opens her mouth, relieving pearl white teeth, and a big pink tongue. I feel something in my spine as I’m inched closer. It almost looks inviting, a big wet drooly mouth looks inviting. I laugh at the thought, reaching out one hand to feel her tongue. I immediately notice how warm it is, and how soft it feels under my hand. I wiggle off her hand and into her mouth, the warmth was more than enough to sell me on this idea. The soft muscle pulls me in quickly, and Brianna closes her lips around my waist. She hums at my flavor, presumably, pushing me gently against her palate, then the inside of her cheek, then tilts me to my throat.

I don’t have any protest, so I take a small breath in, feeling a bit of vertigo as my head slips into her throat, and she swallows, simultaneously throwing my legs in behind me. She closes her lips around me and swallows again, leaving just my tail out. The snug muscles of her throat pull me downward, toward her stomach, a small part of me comes to reality that I’m about to be put in the same place all food goes, and the only thing keeping me from becoming food is Brianna's word. But I don’t struggle, as much as this doesn’t make sense, it would make even less sense for her to betray me. I feel my tail get slurped up like a noodle with a muffle smack of Brianna’s lips, along with a small gulp.

Dropping into her stomach, I bounce a bit as I hit the bottom of the gastric chamber. “Are you okay, Chloe?” Her voice is basey and all around me. I take a moment to assess my condition.

Warm? Check.

Comfortable? Check.

Safe? Check.

“Fantastic!” I shout back, hoping my voice is loud enough to penetrate her internal flesh. “I’m safe and sound, thank you for keeping your promise!” I sink my body into the walls of her fleshy stomach, hearing the soft gurgles and groans of her digestive system moving about. I also catch on to her subtle heartbeat above me. This, I could get used to.

Jericho

I wanted to chase after her after she stormed back to that- Brianna’s place. Was Chloe right? Was I the enemy? Something didn’t feel right, so I decided to find her, and risk meeting this human she seems to know more about than I do. Unfortunately, I waited too long, and night had fallen. An owl had detected my presence. I refused to end up as an owl chow before I made amends with my sister. I stay under the brush of foliage of the forest floor, passing the river swifting by its thinnest shore, avoiding the open air for long.

The hills keep getting higher as I make the trek up the mountain side. Chloe told me the directions before she stormed off earlier tonight, and for that I’m lucky. I hide into hovels and peek out, the owl seems to have lost me. I see a light on the crest of the hill. Eyeing down a house on the edge of forest, just as she described. As I sneak closer I hear footsteps coming fast. I twist my body to view, seeing the dark form of a huge humanoid running at me, a feminine voice sounding to me, “OWL!”

The screech of the owl and its silhouette blocks out the moon, without thinking I dart toward the human, they reach down and grasp me in both hands. I can hear the fast patter of gravel shoes and the loud slam of the front door. The adrenaline and static take a while to clear from my ears. And just briefly enough to help me recognize I was being spoken to.

My vision clears as I look up to my savior.

“Jericho?”

She knows my name? Then she must be her.

“Brianna?”

She smiles, relieved. “It seems we cleared that up, I’m glad I found you when I did, what are you doing out here at night?” The girl begins stroking my hair with her thumb, I wince at her touch. She’s awfully friendly.

Then the realization hits me. “My sister! I was… coming to apologize to my sister…” I look around the room and dart my eyes. “Where… is she?”

The human continues smiling. “Safe, and warm.” Her stomach growls underneath me, “Listen, you’ll forgive me later, but this is what she wanted. Just don’t struggle too much.”

I don’t even get a moment to protest whatever she’s doing when she shovels me into mouth! I flail around desperately. This wasn’t happening. The wet and sticky saliva coats my body and the human quickly gulps me down her gullet. Sending me straight to her stomach. I feel a heavy feeling in my chest as I’m deposited into her growling stomach. Something touches my shoulder and I scream.

“Woah! It’s okay, it’s just Chloe!”

I stare blankly in disbelief. She was… alive? In here?

“Sorry for panicking you, Jericho.” She embraces me tight, lingering on my name. “But I knew you wouldn’t agree to this willingly.” She pats me on the back. “We’re safe. Brianna won’t digest us, she’ll keep us safe tonight, and all winter. Our struggles are over, Jericho. We can rest.”

I open and close my hands slowly, processing her words. “You… planned all this? This was your idea?” She nods. “And you’re not angry?” She shakes her head. I look her up and down, then at the slimy surrounding around us, and the dim light coming from the walls. “I want to sleep.” The day had taken its toll, and I wanted to rest. At least I can take comfort in seeing my sister alive.

Chloe

I spent the rest of the night with Jericho in Brianna’s stomach. Talking about anything and everything, hoping to relax him. As morning came Jericho confessed to me how sad and scared he’s been, sobbing into my arms as Brianna spits us up. We clean ourselves thoroughly.

Outside a large blanket of snow had buried everything. We were practically snowed in. I take Jericho's hand and look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. For everything this week. I’ve been difficult and hard to love, yet you risked your life multiple times to ensure my safety. You are an amazing brother, and even if I hate you sometimes. You’re not all that bad.”

Jericho does the same, “And I’m sorry, for not believing in you, and not trusting you. You are extremely smart and capable. You have proven to me that I don’t know everything.” He looks up to Brianna, “And thank you, Human, for not hurting my sister or I, and for taking us in. We will make up for the sacrifices you make for us.”

I chuckle at that, “And another thing Bri? Thanks for eating me. I didn’t know I would enjoy it so much, but I have never felt so warm or safe in my life, you are an amazing human that we borrowers-” I nudged my brother, “-Would love to get to know!”

Brianna takes a moment and tears well up in her eyes, “Always happy to help anyone in need, Human, Animal, Plant, Borrower, whatever. My love is unconditional. I’m excited for this winter.” She glanced out the window at the snow and falling flakes. “And if you need anything, I will be happy to provide, it’s the least I can do for two cute borrowers who have been through hell.” She nods solemnly at me.

Jericho embraces me, and gives him one arm back and raises my other for Brianna. The three of us share a long hug together, and despite our many differences, I know it’ll work out for all of us.

#safe vore #nonsexual vore #g/t vore #I don’t even care about how rushed this was #i felt like sharing #extreme cuddling #sfw vore #angst heavy #emotional hurt/comfort

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slytherhys · 2 years

Text

Beautiful Boy

AO3

Prompt: Nyx's first birthday party.

A/N: I tried to write some feysandnyx x ic fluff but I'm not sure I like this

Early spring in Velaris was a sight to see. The days were still cold, the nights colder still, but the sun already shone bright in the sky, clearly lifting the spirits of the people. The entire city was still cleaning up after Starfall a few days earlier, but flowers already bloomed in front of the shops and marble and red stone townhouses, the Sira river already returning to its deep sapphire sparkle as it flowed through the city. People greeted Feyre as she crossed the bridge from the Rainbow to her house, where the party had already begun.

The great manor greeted her as she reached the end of the bridge, the marble façade covered in beautiful, lush ivy as well as a few different blossoming flowers that covered her front garden – all Elain’s doing, of course. Opening the front door, Feyre was immediately greeted by the warmth of her home as well as the accompanying sound of laughter and chatter coming from the sitting room. Her friends were already there, sitting and standing around the fireplace as soft music played in the background, but the laughter of her baby boy was the only thing she could focus on.

Nyx was in Cassian’s lap, being repeatedly thrown in the air. His little wings would flex for 2 seconds before he fell again into the awaiting hands of his uncle, who watched him with a proud glint in his eyes. Nesta was smiling as she watched them both, scolding Cassian whenever Nyx reached too high. Azriel stood by the wooden table as he watched Elain sort all the presents, a soft smile on his lips as she got more and more flustered at the ridiculous amount of gifts Nyx had received for his first birthday. Feyre felt her heart warm at the sight of her family.

“There you are,” she heard him before she felt his arms wrap around her waist. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Feyre turned swiftly, her hands immediately cupping Rhys’ face as she rose to her toes and kissed him softly. Twice, just because.

Rhys grinned. “Did you get it?” She nodded and held up the paper bag in her hand, unable to keep her own grin out of her face.

They had gone to the Rainbow a few weeks earlier to a small shop just a few blocks away from Feyre’s painting studio to buy Nyx a custom gift. Ressina had been the one to speak about it, having known the owner, and knowing Nyx was about to turn one. They had already bought a series of presents for their boy, but this one just felt…right.

Feyre groaned, dropping her head against Rhys’ chest. “We’re going to spoil him rotten.”

Rhys chuckled. “It’s nothing he doesn’t deserve.” He said, turning Feyre around so she could see how Nyx now crawled around the floor, still too scared to stand for long periods of time. Feyre pulled away, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. She was feeling entirely too emotional. Today was for happiness and celebration, no one needed her crying over gifts and cake.

Rhys pulled her in again, kissing her softly. “We’re okay.” He said gently, a promise between the two. Feyre nodded once, finding comfort in his presence. A day didn’t go by that Rhys didn’t promise her the exact same thing. She couldn’t be more grateful for it.

She gently settled the paper bag at a little side table, saving Elain from yet another colourful package to sort. Az was trying to coax her away from the mess, since there was really no need to do such a thing, but Elain kept glaring at him whenever he grabbed her hand. Feyre pressed her lips together to fight a laugh– there was something amusing about the shadowsinger bending to another’s will.

“Thank you for coming.” Feyre said as she reached the back of the couch, pulling both Cassian and Nesta for a hug.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Nesta replied softly, her eyes on Nyx as she squeezed Feyre’s hand once before letting it go. Feyre felt her lip turn up at the small display of affection. They still had a long way to go but having Nesta by her side as she raised Nyx was a gift she would forever appreciate. Having both her sisters after everything that happened last year gave Feyre a sense of comfort, one she didn’t even realize she had been missing all her life.

Rhys swept Nyx to his arms, taking him to the overflowing table as he kicked out Elain and Azriel back to the couch.

Cassian watched Nyx over the table, his little arms flapping around as he tried to reach for his presents. “I can’t believe the amount of shit people sent.” He snorted, yelping when Nesta slapped his hand, chiding him for his foul mouth. He looked chagrined before his face turned into something else. Feyre quickly looked away.

“He doesn’t need all this stuff, it’s ridiculous.” Feyre sighed, sitting on the armchair by the fireplace.

“It’s a good sign, love.” Rhys said as he made his way back towards her, sitting on the arm of the chair. “Helion, it appears, has sent at least 4 different gifts. Tarquin and Kallias also seemed to spare no expenses. I’d say our little man is quite popular.” He said, blowing a raspberry on Nyx’ cheek, making him chuckle loudly, squirming away from his dad. His chubby little arms reached for Feyre instead, who didn’t even hesitate before grabbing him. Rhys had a look of feigned outrage on his face, muttering a small traitor before he leaned back, his face pure adoration as he watched them both.

“Well, at least you guys didn’t get him anything.” Feyre sighed, her hands holding Nyx as he played with her necklace. However, when her statement was only met with silence, she looked. Why wasn’t anyone agreeing with her? “You didn’t get him anything.” She was a bit alarmed now. “Right?”

They had agreed there would be no gifts for Nyx. Rhys and Feyre had only wanted a small celebration between their family with dinner and cake, maybe a few drinks after Nyx had fallen asleep. Small, yet meaningful.

But as everyone in that room avoided her gaze, she knew they had all ignored her request. Big time. “Cass?” She called, making the male flinch. He reluctantly looked over at her and Rhys who, much to Feyre’s annoyance, was watching the entire interaction with entirely too much amusement.

“I wasn’t going to get him anything, I swear. But then I just saw the perfect gift and I couldn’t help myself. And then-”

“He got him a onesie that says uncle’s nº1 babybat.” Nesta deadpanned, her face neutral even if she was trying to fight a smile. Cassian frowned at her. “And a baby winger, whatever that is.” She added, a smirk on her lips.

“Wait, you got him the baby winger set?” Azriel’s low voice interrupted Cassian’s mumbles. “I told you I was buying him that.” Az crossed his arms, looking as intimidating as he intended. Elain simply rolled her eyes as she reached for a glass of wine.

“It’s fine, we also bought that-” She started, stopping when her eyes found Feyre’s with an apologist smile.

“Elain.” Azriel snapped. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“For whom?” Nesta raised an eyebrow, nodding her head towards Nyx who was now drooling all over Feyre’s necklace. Feyre gently removed it from his mouth, reaching for the bat plushie Mor had offered him last year so he could play with that instead.

“Wait a minute,” Rhys said, a furrow to his brow. “Why are you guys offering my son a baby winger?” Cassian fully grinned while Azriel had the decency to look a bit sheepish. Feyre wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, but Rhys didn’t seem fond of the idea.

“By the Cauldron.” Feyre muttered. “What is a baby winger?” She asked the three Illyrian babies fighting over presents. They all looked at her like she was insane. Was she missing something? Elain was fighting a smirk, but Nesta seemed as lost as she was.

“It’s only the best thing you can have to teach your son how to fly.” Cassian leaned forward, an excited gleam in his eyes. He looked like a kid on Solstice. “This one even comes with a security system so that he gets to ground safely.”

“You’re not teaching my son how to fly, Cassian.” Rhys rumbled, before looking at Azriel with a raised brow. “And neither are you.”

Both men started complaining as soon as the words were out of her mate’s mouth, Nyx becoming immediately enthralled by their loud voices going back and forth. She was just about to scold them when both Cass and Az went still at the exact same time. Feyre looked at Rhys, knowing he was telling them something through their minds – something that made both warriors pause, blushing furiously. Cassian started coughing, muttering something about water under his breath before leaving the room to the kitchen. Feyre raised an eyebrow at her mate, who was already smiling devilishly at her. She’d have to ask about that later.

“Where’s Mor?” Elain asked. “Isn’t she coming?”

Rhys frowned. “I think-”

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Mor’s soft voice sounded through the sitting room followed by the sound of the entrance door being closed. She appeared as swiftly as one could be, as if summoned by Elain. Wearing a long jacket over her usual casual attire and…carrying a giant bat plushie with a purple bow on its neck.

Feyre could only stare at her best friend, her mouth hanging open. Rhys was already rubbing his eyes and groaning about headaches. Nyx, however, seemed delighted by Mor’s gift.

“I said no gifts.” Feyre groaned, throwing her head back as she watched Mor set her gigantic gift on the floor before stealing Nyx from her arms. She couldn’t exactly say it bothered her how loved her son was among his family, but this was too much. It had to be too much. Right?

She wanted to give him everything she never had growing up, but she didn’t want to overcompensate. She knew Rhys would be careful too, even if he had to be reminded to pace himself. Frequently.

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the waist, sitting under her with such ease she didn’t even notice until she was already sitting on his lap, his lips pressing against her temple.

It’s his first birthday, love. Rhys’ soft timbre sounded inside her mind, startling her slightly. He held out his hand and Feyre happily intertwined her fingers with his. Let him be loved by his family.

He won’t even care for most of these things, Feyre said, watching as Nyx threw himself towards Mor’s gift, bouncing back and giggling as he fell on his butt.

And when the time comes, we’ll teach him to care for all things. Rhys pressed his lips against her hand. You’re his mom, Feyre. There’s not a single thing in this world that could make him anything other than kind and caring.

Feyre looked back at him; her vision blurry as she looked at the man she loved. It wasn’t a secret Rhys adored her, but most days he still couldn’t fully understand the type of man that he was. The amazing, loving father he was to Nyx. “There’s no doubt in my mind, Rhys, that he will be gentle and selfless. He’s half of the man who saved me and loved me on my darkest days. How could he be anything less?” She spoke softly, for these were words he needed to hear – the man who had given himself to protect the people he loved; the man who had saved her, over and over again and had wanted nothing in return. No, she didn’t need to be worried, not when Nyx was surrounded by the incredible people she had the pleasure to call family.

He was going to be okay.

“You think this is a bad time to tell them we also got him a toy dagger?” Cassian asked Azriel.

…

Their bedroom was glowing with the light of the night sky, glowing stars held by magic as they swirled softly around the room. Every once in a while, the shape of a little boy would fly by, followed by his parents as their twirled with the stars. It was like living inside a dream, one where things were simple and calm and only love mattered.

It had been a good gift, Feyre concluded once she saw how Nyx’s eyes followed the boy with wonder and curiosity.

Rhysand was sprawled on their bed, his hair longer and curlier than usual, a lazy smile on his lips as he read a book to Nyx – a tale about Nephelle, gifted to him by Elain and Azriel. The baby eyed both his dad and the stars surrounding him with adoring amazement, fighting hard not fall fast asleep.

Feyre felt herself settle, a smile on her lips as she watched the men of her life read a tiny book. Had it really been a year since her baby boy had been born? She simply couldn’t wrap her head around it. How they had gone from frantic nights and painful recoveries to gentle smiles and peaceful living. Just a year ago everything seemed so fragile, and now Nyx was starting to flex his wings, walking all around the house as he tried to follow his dad around, his little legs clumsy even when Rhys slowed down his pace.

Time had gone by too fast.

Everyone had left moments ago, just a few hours after dinner. They were all chatting over drinks when the baby monitor came alive, and Nyx’s cries filled the living room. Everyone had taken that as their sign to retreat back to their own homes, leaving with tipsy smiles and happy memories. Feyre had been retreating every single toy to Nyx’s room while Rhys tried to put the baby back to sleep – to no avail, apparently.

Rhys looked up, smiling as he spotted Feyre making her way to bed. “Did you enjoy the day, love?” Rhys asked in a soft voice, his large hand holding Nyx close to his chest as the baby sucked on his pacified, his little head resting against his dad’s chest. Feyre kissed his soft cheek, making him smile as he fought to keep his eyes open. She lied on her side, settling against Rhys as she played with Nyx’s dark hair. She couldn’t help but smile at the picture they painted – both sleepy, a lazy smile on their lips as they stared at her. She would paint it tomorrow and hang it someplace where she could see it every day for the rest of her life.

“He’s okay.” Feyre whispered, watching as Nyx finally succumbed to sleep. Understanding flashed through Rhys’ face. He smiled at her, his hand softly stroking Nyx’s back.

“He’s okay.” His voice was soft. “We’re all okay, love.”

#pro feysand #domestic feysand #feysand fic #feyre archeron #rhys x nyx #pro rhysand #rhys acotar #rhys x feyre #high lord rhysand #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #feysand fluff

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jiseck · 8 months

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hi y’all! you can call me mk. (she/they & cst). i haven’t tumblr rp’ed since probably 2017, so please do forgive me as i feel things out around the dash, my blog, and with kit. shoot me a dm if you'd like to plot as kit is totally open (i also have discord if you'd like that, just ask for my info!) and with all of that out of the way... meet my tender-hearted, hard-headed little guy.

stats && plots && pinterest

welcome to infinite entertainment! it's YOON JISEOK ( KIT ), who is a BACKUP DANCER. i’ve heard whispers that the 22 year old is pretty DETERMINED but lowkey HIGH-STRUNG. also, doesn’t he remind you of SUNG HANBIN?

kit is an older muse of mine but as it's been years i'm just going to be feeling him out through character development as time goes on. sorry for the one million words... feel free to skip to the TLDR / tidbits section. the important stuff is there!

EARLY LIFE -- TEEN YEARS ;

jiseok was an only child for the first handful of years of his life. in those first few years, his parents bounced around jobs, and they lived in a run down, one-room apartment while they attempted desperately to get settled. his mom’s life long dream was to be a novel writer, but ended up teaching high school literature. his dad was, and always had been, a teacher himself.

when jiseok’s mom got pregnant with him, she went on maternity leave and struggled with postpartum depression that made it difficult to go back to work. his dad tried to make it work with just a single income, but ultimately it wasn’t enough. she bounced around from job to job, often cleaning up homes and business and taking on other odd jobs as she couldn’t handle the stress of teaching again.

as jiseok grew from being a toddler to being a school-aged child, they finally settled down in seoul after what felt like a miracle situation — his mom got on the proper medication and was able to work a stable teaching job again. unexpectedly, his mom announced that he would be having two siblings come the spring, twins, she had told him excitedly.

with jiseok entering grade school, and the twins being watched by his aunt during the day, she could afford to work longer days. when both parents began teaching again, they enrolled jiseok in a taekwondo class after school. he was good at it. he enjoyed the outlet from the noisiness that was a household that has two new twin babies living in it. he liked being at a place with faces he didn’t recognize from school. he was quite clumsy and rowdy in daily life growing up, spending many saturday evenings in the emergency room racking up bills for stitches and a cast on his arm after a nasty fall off of a slide. so he liked when he’d go to taekwondo and felt like he had control over his body and the way it moved, and what he could do with it.

he was elegant, and quick in his movements, earning himself the nickname " kitty " from one of the instructional assistants at his taekwondo club.

now, he liked taekwondo just fine, but he found another love late into his elementary years. as his mom and dad would often work late nights at the school, his aunt jihyun would often pick him up after his post-school taekwondo lesson. she owned a dance studio just down the street and jiseok, kit, would go there to do homework so he didn’t have to spend all night alone.

the nights he didn’t have much academia work, he would just watch the dancers. eventually, jihyun noticed the careful way he would watch them, and invited him to participate. one half of a dance class was all it took for kit to know that this is where is belonged.

COLLEGE -- CURRENT ;

jiseok stayed in public school as he entered his high school years, which was frustrating as all of his dance team members began to join fine arts schools. it wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was okay with that. with him entering high school and the twins entering junior high, he knew there was no way his parents could afford private or specialized schools for one of them, let alone three of them.

he focused on his studies intensely, knowing he had to score well on exit exams and classes if he wanted to be able to pursue a higher education, already stuck with a disadvantage just for attending public high school. he was dedicated and a perfectionist in all aspects of his life. his grades remained impeccable and he attended his dance classes every day after school. he lost sleep most nights in order to get both dance and school complete in a day.

dancing competitively came shortly after high school began, finally old enough to travel on weekends with his team and compete. the fees were expensive and jiseok was able to fund them with scholarships and odd jobs he picked up here and there. the amount of work that went into it and the nights of sleep he lost didn’t matter to him. he loved dancing. he loved performing.

it was on those long weekends away from home, tucked away in his own little world that he was a little different from other teammates (or so he thought, but much later in life would learn there were plenty of other people just like him). he had crushes growing up, but the first time he remembers feeling like he was in love –– as in love as he could be at sixteen –– was with a boy he met at a dance competition, who he blossomed a quiet, mostly secret relationship with.

he got outed for having a boyfriend relatively quickly after they began dating, and much to his luck, his parents, the twins, and all of his closest friends were more than supporitve. it didn't take away the sting when he'd get looks from other dancers at competitions, or teachers at school, or the elder's he'd pass on the streets, bravely walking hand in hand with his boyfriend.

now, as he’s studying dance in college and continuing to dance professionally, he still battles whether or not he will ever step foot into the idol-side of things. he likes his anonymity, mostly, and being able to return to normal life after doing backup-dance work for an awards show, or a concert, or an event.

he’s pretty heavily involved in the queer space at his university and in the performance sphere, and knows that being an idol would mean giving that up, and he’s not sure he’s ready to do that now, or ever.

LITTLE TIDBITS & TLDR ;

kit started dancing around age 11, the years before that spend in the taekwondo studio where he learned of his own grace and control despite being mostly clumsy and graceless in daily life.

he has two younger twin siblings that he loves like, seriously more than life. hyunsoo & seohyun are 5 years younger than him and have eagerly followed his footsteps in dancing. he's very protective of them.

his primary love is dancing, but has found a real passion for choreographing and teaching. in a dream world, one where he isn't a back-up dancer for idols, he would be a choreographer for some of the biggest names in the industry.

his favorite kind of dancing is contemporary, though it's easily his least practiced –– he just enjoys the vulnerability contemporary choreographies encapsulate.

he's quite the party guy, but mostly casually. it's fun for him on the weekends, especially to be involved in itaewon/the gay scene. he's very proud of himself and outspoken about his sexuality.

capricorn sun, virgo moon, pisces rising. so sorry. god bless. he is equal parts controlling (re: himself, his situations, etc., not so much other people though like with anyone it definitely translates. especially when he's stressed.) and sensitive. sweet little cry baby. for any and all reasons.

he has 4 tattoos! and a handful of piercings. he got his nipples pierced as a dare (but it wasn't very hard to convince him because he had kind of always wanted them done anyway).

he prides himself on having never turned down a dare.

his first year of college, he challenged himself to go on twenty-five first dates, and if nothing else make friends out of it. he got close –– twenty one. one of those dates is one of his best friends now.

bisexual and very open about it

Chronically Tired (he is busy all of the time. perfectionist to his core)

softy softy softy. very affectionate.

like, insanely trustworthy. probably Knows Some Shit

he does smoke cigarettes, pretty regularly. he's super high strung, and this is about the one area of his life where he allows himself this thing that is so clearly bad for him. nictone addiction started pretty young. dance kids.

once he sets his mind on something, he is in it to win it!!! competitive, passionate, determined, whatever you want to call it. all the way down to mario kart.

CONNECTIONS / PLOTS ;

best friend / his person –– i imagine kit would have like a long term best friend, at least since high school. they didn't have to go to school together, since kit went to public school, but maybe they were in the same dance team outside of school? maybe they worked together at an odd job? maybe they were neighbors?

roommate –– although he probably could afford to live on his own with the money gathered from gigs & his job at the studio, it would be much more comfortable to have a roommate !! // song jooha.

"first date number seventeen" –– on his challenge of going on twenty five first dates, he met someone who, in unlikely circumstances, became a close friend. this could have also been a friends with benefits situation, or maybe a slow-burn, or maybe just a friend in unlikely places situation. whatever!!

party / smoking buddies –– again, could be a friends with benefits situation, could be a wingman situation, could just be a we like to drink and bask in each other's presences... maybe they both like to go to the gay bars together. if they're an idol and jiseok somehow knows them, he's confidant number one and will keep your secrets.

dance parter –– dance is where he is the most vulnerable, true form of himself. maybe they dance together at college now, or maybe they've danced together for years, or maybe they do industry work together often.

ex best friend / ex lovers / enemies / enemies to friends / friends to enemies / etc etc etc . . .

very vague plots also listed here... but i am totally open minded, so we can just talk things through or let them happen organically. i love to headcanon though so don't be afraid to shoot me a dm. :)

#infinite:intro #// sorry this is kind of late! and also a whole entire essay! i am me at my core #// also forgive my graphic skills i used canva <3 #&. ✧ musings.

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