#I think I've got my groove back. Maybe

[carnation-damnation]

Keep your friends safe by pushing them away.

(Kind of) a continuation of this! wow..that art is so old

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunnyy, can I please have a blueberry muffin with a hard lemonade for Lando?💕

the bakery menu

want to submit your own order? the follow to the main post above! i am still accepting orders! these paws are rolling out the dough as we speak! as for this one,

blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, big cock!lando, possessive behavior, missionary, sweet sex, mechanic!reader

"i don't think it'll fit, lando." you swallowed.

"shh, shh, shh." he said as he rubbed his cock up against your achy slit, "it'll fit. the more you tense up, the less it'll fit. so, relax." then flashed you a smile.

you swallowed, "please don't bruise me, norris."

he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek ever so gently, "i would never. the last thing i want is for my mechanic to not do her job."

this all started because you took a job with mercedes, leaving poor lando all by himself at mclaren (he really wasn't alone). you were his favourite mechanic, you made his car purr like a kitten and hug the curves of the track just right.

so it broke his heart that you just upped and left him. how could you!

after you left, lando made is known that you were still his mechanic. he added the possessive pronoun to your job title, even though on your resume it said that your employment with mclaren ended two months ago.

it was an event for staff that some of the drivers attended, lando included. it was for the smaller awards throughout the season for things like mechanics and other support staff. it was an excuse to let loose before the second leg of the season.

a driver was only as strong as his support team, so many of the drivers came to support their teams! but lando was glaring daggers into the back of toto wolff's head for stealing away his mechanic.

how dare he! lando had barely seen you since your departure from the team two months ago. you had been so busy getting into the groove of mercedes that it felt like you totally forgot about him and your time on his team!

after the dinner, it came time for the actual partying. while that means most got into the harder alcohol, it gave lando the chance to get closer to you.

he seated himself beside you at the table and when you looked over, he slung his arm across the back of your chair. he smiled at you, "there is my favourite mechanic."

you lit up at the sight of lando and pulled him into a tight hug. he swore you made a gleeful noise at the sight of him, which only stroked his ego.

maybe he was a little too hard on you. maybe you did miss him quite a bit. when you pulled away, you held him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"oh my god, lando!" you said, your smile big as you let go of him, "i've been seeing your messages, but i've just been so busy lately! i'm so, so, so sorry!"

aw, he really couldn't be that mad at you. you were just so painfully cute that it was like being mad at a puppy for chewing up some socks.

lando smiled back at you and wiped some of the dinner you had off your cheek, "still a messy eater as always, huh?"

you blushed a little, "oh shut up, lans." you laughed and playfully pushed his chest which caused him to grab your hands and keep them on him. you said, "i have missed you though!"

then why did you leave me, he thought.

he offered to get you another glass of wine so the two of you would keep talking. he wanted to hear all about mercedes. in reality he wanted to see where mercedes was failing in comparison to mclaren that he could convince you to come back.

your voice was music to his ears as you rambled about the other team. you hardly noticed lando's hand on your thigh until he gave it a hearty squeeze. your eyes went wide, "lans!"

he chuckled and leaned in closer to you, "i missed you. i really missed you. team's not the same without you." i'm not the same without you.

"oh! don't be silly! the new mechanic that you guys got is like a million times better than me! don't make me blush!"

all he wanted to do was make you blush. he wanted to see if it went all way down. then again he wondered how hot he'd be in the face when he was between your legs.

but he made that a reality a lot sooner than he expected.

apparently you really missed him. and you felt that you missed out on your chance to be with him. but you also were plagued with self-doubt that he'd even be into you. but lando covered up that anxiety with a hot kiss at the table before you were leading him by the hand to your hotel room with key card in your other hand.

your hotel was quaint, cute in a way as he started to get you undressed. his lips would find safety on your hated skin, his cock was heavy in his pants before he took them off.

you got up onto the bed and pulled him for some soft kisses. he melted against you, loving the feeling of you. he can't believe you missed him. it made something strange curl in his gut as he got between your legs.

"how much did you miss me?" he asked as he rubbed his hard cock against your slick pussy, "did you think about me all the time?"

you nodded, "i did lando, all the time. i felt so bad when i couldn't reply. i was worried you'd hate me." you gave a small pout.

he felt a shiver run through him, "oh, no, no, no. i could never hate you. you're my favourite!!" you blushed and covered your face. but lando took your hands away and leaned in for another kiss as he dribbling pre-cum against your pussy lips, "it's true." he said.

"lans."

he chuckled as he threatened to push his cock into you. he could feel the heat rise in his body. his heart was racing it did during a race.

"what if it doesn't fit." you said once more.

"trust me, alright? just the way i trusted you on the grid. right?" he said, almost begged. he needed this, he needed you.

you nodded, "of course." you braced for impact, but tried to keep yourself relax as he slid his cock into you. the stretch felt intense for a moment before it started to feel good.

"i'd never hurt you." he said as he planted both hands on either side of you and rutted against you. you wrapped those strong legs around him. his words were a promise as he moved against you.

"i'm sorry i didn't try to do anything sooner."

"aw, don't be. you just didn't want to ruin our jobs. i understand. i guess now that you're working for the other team, now we can do this as much as we want." he laughed.

the sex between you was almost sweet. lando peppered your face with kisses as he rocked against you. you felt so good around his cock, like two puzzle pieces.

"you feel so good."

"thank you, lans."

"i missed you every day on the grid. i got a little jealous when i'd see you working on the cars. you always looked better in orange." he admitted.

"i always thought i looked like a cheez-it."

lando kissed your lips and held onto the covers under you. his lips trailed across your skin before he said, "no, no. you looked amazing in it."

you held onto his shoulder tightly as you moved against him. it wasn't rough sex, but it wasn't too gentle either. regardless it really felt nice. it was a steady pace that allowed pleasure through your body.

the kisses your shared were wet and sweet. you could feel lando's praise of you through his lips. you held onto him. part of you wished you had done this sooner.

lando on the other hand wanted his mechanic back, he wanted you in the orange coveralls and always excited to see the cars. he just thought that you were painfully cute in the garage.

you once told him that working on a car of that caliber was a like working on a high tech puzzle, and it made the job exciting. to see your hard work (and the hard work of your former co-workers) on the track was amazing!

and lando wanted to make you proud on the track! put that hard work into action. you two worked hand in hand, and now you were tumbling in the sheets together.

you felt near to your climax and held onto him tightly. you kissed at the apples of his cheeks and moved against him, "you're amazing, lans."

he held tightly onto the covers, or else he was going to dig his hands into his hips. he picked up the pace a little bit more and captured your lips in another kiss.

you cupped his face and let him rut against you. you clenched around him and moaned into the kiss as you climaxed. you held onto the driver as he continued to thrust against you.

"shit." you moaned as you relaxed on the bed and clutched onto the white hotel sheets. you looked up at lando and smiled.

that only egged him to keep going. and the sight of your sweet face allowed him to finish inside of you. with a few heavy thrusts and he finished in a huff.

it led to more kissing, his arms wrapped around you. he whispered praises you could barely hear against your skin as you both soaked in the feeling of post-orgasmic bliss.

"you're perfect." he exhaled.

"i missed you, lans."

you get comfortable under the covers of the bed and could feel lando moving around to get comfortable as well. he laid next to you and felt comfort in your warmth.

as he laid with you, tangled up in the hotel room sheets. his nose in your hair with your head on his chest. maybe he'd find a way to get his little mechanic back, make sure she's really appreciated this time. <3

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door- Pt. 2

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: Simon finally accept your offer for dinner. Did you mention you can cook?

A/N: I was a little slow on this but the idea of them getting close was stressing me out, okay? Also my MIL was in town and I couldn't get in the groove. All the support so far is amazing, thank you guys so much! If y'all like it there will be more to come. Warning: still slow burning

Join my Taglist

Part I

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon sits across from you at your tiny dining table pressed against the wall of your cramped kitchen. You managed to lure him in with a fairly nice bottle of unopened scotch you found in the back of your cabinet that had potentially fallen into one of your own boxes when moving from your ex's house. 

He looks around your quaint little one bedroom apartment. It was a lot different than his own. The literal layout was the same. No extra rooms or walls but you’d done something different in here. The whole space had a cozy feeling to it. Every surface was decorated with useless gadgets and trinkets that he didn't understand the purpose of. Lots of blankets, pillows, soft things. You had music quietly playing through your TV speakers in the living room. A few lamps fill the dim room creating a subtle yellow glow that hits the high points of your face, softening your tired features.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" you suddenly blurt out.

"S'cuse me?" Simon asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Lately I've been feeling like there's something inside of me that attracts horrible guys. Like, is there a beacon coming out my head that says 'hey, come over here. I'm vulnerable and easy'."

Simon pauses, unsure how to respond. He watches your face closely. You're sad eyes looking to him for an answer he doesn't have. "I think you're...nice," but he has a feeling that's not what you wanted to hear.

"nice?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe that's the problem. Nice must translate to doormat," You sigh and drop your head into your hands. 

Simon takes a sip of his drink. He's growing concerned this is entering too friendly territory. Then you pop your head back up.

"So, how much did you hear?"

"Not much"

"Yeah right," You toss him a coy smile. “Can I tell you what happened?”

“Sure,”

“Alright, so” you take a sip of your own drink and a deep breath before recounting your story. "I met him at work. He was really nice and offered to pick me up a coffee on his way in one day. I haven’t made any friends at work yet so it was nice just to chat over a coffee. Then we started having lunch together. Nothing serious just in the break room but it felt good to hear about something other than notes from my editor. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I mean I moved here to focus on myself not continue dating more crappy guys. So of course he started texting me and he was really sweet. He complimented my outfits and thought all my jokes were hilarious apparently. I really wasn’t trying to get involved with this guy though. He said something about hearing I can cook and of course I said I do. It’s part of my job, duh. He’s giving my shit about it so I invited him over for dinner. I made this creamy potato gnocchi with Italian sausage that I got from that great butcher on the corner. I even hand rolled the gnocchi. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an authentic Italian meal?"

"He's sounds like some guy"

"Not really, I was testing out a new recipe for the column so, two birds one stone. Anyways, he comes up and we have some wine and listen to some music. It was going really well so far. Then I go to bring out a nice charcuterie board for an appetizer while the pasta finishes baking. While I'm bringing it to him I can see he's on his phone, texting someone and literally giggling. I walk up behind him and he is sexting. On my couch!" you throw you hands up incredulously. "Well, I thought he was. He’s looking at a picture of some girl bent over then I realize it’s me. He took a picture of my ass, while I was making him dinner. I couldn't fucking believe it. What kind of a scumbag does that to a woman preparing a fucking meal for him? Now, this is not something I'm proud of so let the record show this is very out of character for me but these were extraordinary circumstances. So, I dropped the fig chutney on his head. Right in his stupid quaffed hair. He jumps up and he's all mad and starts yelling and I'm yelling back. He calls me a crazy bitch then I call him a perv. After that he left." you conclude with a shrug.

"Wow" Simon responds, truly taken aback by the series of events. 

"Yeah, then you know the rest from there. I don't know what came over me. I guess after my last breakup I haven't felt very good about myself and this guy made me feel, I don't know- fun? That feels silly to say. I should’ve known better from a guy that works the celebrity gossip section. I probably looked like a big baby out there, how dramatic. I'm sorry about that, again."

"You don't need to apologize."

"After I moved here I thought things would be different. I thought guys in the city were classier I guess. Turns out all guys are the same. Just take what they want and go. Do you want another drink?" You point to his now empty glass. 

"Sure." You snag his cup and stand. He watches you walk over to the counter in your silky slip dress. The sleek fabric clings to your waist. Flaring around your hips and down your thighs. The warm light reflects on the shiny material, shifting with each step you take. It tightens perfectly about your waist and cinched with a neat little bow in the back. He wonders why you would wear a dress like that for this guy.

"So, do you date?" you question in a seemingly casual tone.

"No" 

"Yeah right," you laugh and look over your shoulder to see his stoney expression and your smile fades. "Oh, sorry, I just- I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that?" He tilts his head and you focus back on filling his glass. 

"It's just, you're a good looking guy. I would think you'd get plenty of female attention," You pivot back around and place the glass before him. You lean on the table with one hand and prop the other on your waist. 

"'M not interested," his gaze stays fixed on the brown liquid, grabbing it and taking another sip. He doesn't miss the way you deflated the slightest bit. 

"Maybe I should take a page out of your book, as in maybe swearing off men completely" The oven timer dings. "Oh! pasta!" You jump over and grab your oven mitts. You drop the oven door and slide out the sizzling dish. An aroma of cheese and basil fills the air. Your stomach audibly growls.

You pull down two plates from your cabinet. You serve up the steaming pasta, sprinkling parmesan and fresh chopped herbs for garnish. You proudly carry over the two dishes and place them carefully on the table. You place your hands on your hips while gazing down at the platter.

"This looks...great." Simon is truly taken aback by the incredible looking dish. 

"Wait, don't eat yet. Let me get a picture." You scamper into your living room, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and scurrying back. You hold your phone high above for a birds eye view. Simon scoots his chair back to avoid the gaze of the lens. The camera clicks with a flash. You examine the photo, seeming satisfied with the quality and finally taking a seat in your own chair. "It was okay if you were in the picture. I don't mind." 

"I do," he says simply. 

To anyone else, Simon comes off as rude or callous but you, you never seem to let his shortness affect you. You take his words and just keep going. You don't mind his lack of conversation. It seems you are totally satisfied with having someone there to listen. He was starting to think he didn't mind listening so much. 

"Oh," You shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Sorry then. Well, let me know what you think. Try to be detailed with your feelings about it if you can. You're my guinea pig and be honest. I don't want to put this out when it's garbage."

He proceeds to take a forkful in his mouth. He cannot control the groan that escapes his throat as the bold flavor hits his tongue. This is far cry from his usual take away food. He can't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal now that he thinks about it. 

"This is quite good." He grumbled between bites. Not caring to finish chewing before he's stabbing at the pasta on the plate once again. 

"Really? You don't need to be nice to spare my feelings. I don't mind criticism."

He shoves more in his mouth. "I’m serious"

"Thank you" You giggle watching him scarf down the still steaming hot meal. 

The two of you finish your respective plates without much more conversation to be had. On your last few bites you meet Simon's eyes as he reclines back in the creaky wooden chair, hands laying across his stomach. His head tips back with a satisfied grumble making a proud smile play across your lips. This may be the first time you've seen him express a true human emotion in your presence. 

"There's more if you want?"

"No, I'm stuffed." 

If you know one thing as a part time chef, food is the way to a man's heart. You knew if Simon tasted what you could make his ice exterior would melt away. You stand up and walk to the fridge. 

"Too stuffed for dessert?" you pull out a glass bowl filled with layers of custard, strawberries, cake, and whipped cream. "I made a traditional English trifle. Y'know for the holidays coming up and who doesn't love custard?" you shrug while carrying the bowl over to the table. You hurry back to the kitchen to grab two saucers and plate up the dessert.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to butter me up." he comments, intently watching as you carefully slice through the layers. "What do you know about English food?" 

"Not much, which is why this is a special occasion. I can get some insight from a genuine Englishman," you slide the saucer to him. "Everything happens for a reason, I guess you were meant to be here tonight" you don’t realize how weird that comment is until it's already left your mouth. You suppress the feeling and internally cringe. You take a seat with your own plate and try a bite. "Hey, that's not too bad. I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud"

Simon actually chuckles when you compliment yourself making you giggle in return. This whole night is very different than you expected. Not that you were complaining.

Your leg bumps his underneath the narrow table. Your bare foot brushing up the edge of his pant leg for the briefest moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks the second you realize it's his leg instead of the table's. 

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly draw your legs underneath your chair. Simon pauses his eating and meets your gaze. 

"S'alright," he slowly slides his long leg across the distance and nudges the shin of your tucked legs with the toe of his boot. "You scared?"

"What?" you allow your legs to relax, your calves sitting on either side of his outstretched leg. It felt natural, almost domestic. "You don't scare me." you're lying paired with an anxious laugh.

"No?" As he says this his foot shifts underneath the supports of your chair and yanks it forward causing your chair to skid a few inches across the tile, pressing you further into the table as you let you a surprised yelp. Hands brace against the edge of the table. Simon maintains his calm composure. "Are you sure?" he takes another bite of the fluffy dessert. 

You weren't sure if it was the liquor going to your head or the rush of adrenaline but you felt bold. You rest your cheek on your propped up hand, offering the most innocent eyes you can muster, as you delicately slide your foot along the smooth leather of his boot. Simon swallows and gently places his fork back on the table.

"What do you think of it?" you question in a hushed tone. your foot travels further up his ankle, dipping under his pant leg to feel his hot skin underneath. 

"It's sweet," He states simply but his words roll off his tongue smooth as butter. 

"Not too sweet?" You tilt your head the slightest bit.

"Hm," he hums in contemplation. Your eyes drift down to watch his hands grasp his drink. He grips the glass in his large palm. The rolled sleeves of his long sleeve reveal the muscles in his arm shifting when he raises the glass to his mouth. For the first time you notice a faint raised scar cutting through the outer corner of his lip and stopping just shy of the edge of his nose. He takes a long swig of the brown liquid, not quite finishing the drink. As he pulls back his lips glisten in the warm light. "Not bad when it's paired with a stiff drink," his tongue is quick to swipe across, collecting the residue. 

"I'll be sure to make a note of that." you smile sweetly. "Can I get you another drink?" You look down at the last sip coating the bottom of the glass. You make sure to flutter your lashes when you look back up at him. 

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" A smirk raises the corner of his mouth.

"No," you laugh. "Why, do you want me to?" 

He releases a deep gravelly laugh that makes your stomach stir. Then he glances at his watch and your stomach drops. 

"I need to get going." He mumbles. He pulls his leg away from yours and rises out of his chair. 

"Wait," you rush to stand, almost knocking your seat over in the process. "Can I- uh- get you a bit of pasta to go? There’s plenty left" Trying to think of any excuse to keep him here a moment longer. 

"S'okay, save it. Maybe I'll come by another time." He turns and steps out of your kitchen and into the hallway leading to your front door in only a few wide strides. 

"Are you sure?" You don't intend for your voice to come out as needy as it does. You follow on his heels like a lost puppy.

"I've got an early morning." Before he reaches the door he turns, seemingly surprised by how close you are to him. He looks down at your big round eyes. 

"Okay," you smile trying not to look defeated. "Well, you're welcome over anytime. I mean it, just knock and I'll probably be home. I'm gonna try writing at home more. Try to avoid that guy." You let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Maybe, you should get my number. Y'know, in case you want to check if I'm home."

"I'm alright, I'll just knock" His hand finds the doorknob. "Thanks for dinner, it was nice" Then he turns to go. Closing the door politely behind him. 

You rush to the peephole, watching his distorted figure step out of sight followed by the sound of his own door shutting. You rest your hot forehead against the cool wood grain of your door. 

You step back in the kitchen and begin putting away the leftovers. Piling the pasta into tupperware, rinsing the plates, collecting silverware. His glass remains in place with a sliver of scotch leftover. You hold the glass up in the light and see a faint smudge on its rim. You twist the cup around so your own mouth lines up with the imprint he left. You swallow the last bit slowly, savoring the way the sharp burn eases into a smooth, smoky aftertaste. You never liked scotch, but now you are starting to understand the meaning of an acquired taste.

The low atmospheric music is abruptly interrupted by an ad loudly cutting through the calm space. You rush into the living room to find the remote, hiding among the cushions and various throw pillows. Growing frustrated you end up walking over and manually hitting the power button. The silence that replaces it isn’t much better though. You step back and let your weak legs carry you until you collapse onto the comfort of your couch. The wine followed by the glass of scotch you polished off makes your head feel light but your limbs so heavy. You turn from your back to your side, realizing the used glass is still clutched in your hand. 

You reach across the gap and set it down on the coffee table with a thud. Your hand retreats back to rest under your head. You stare at it, taking in all the imperfections left on its reflective surface. Your eyes trace the rim once again looking for the smudge. On the corner you see the shadow of an impression peeking out underneath the red lipstick mark you have smeared over it. 

𝜗𝜚

Across the wall Simon falls back on his own couch. He looks around his dull apartment wondering what you have done differently to make your place look so welcoming. He never minded the minimal decorations he had. A photo frame with his team that his buddy gifted him and a couple of books always seemed like enough. After comparison though it just feels empty. 

He can hear you stomp across your floor. Footstep rushing from the kitchen until you're straight ahead. The sound of your TV turning off bathes the room in sudden silence. Only thing he can hear now is the rushing of his air conditioning unit. He considered your music annoying but now he couldn’t deny the way it added an unconscious energy to the small unit. Now sitting here, the cool tone of the overhead kitchen light illuminating into the living room he feels as though something is missing. Maybe a nice lamp would help. 

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Masterlist

Taglist

@azkza @neurolept @contractedcriteria @hidden-treasures21 @sprokat @stark-red19

Join the taglist here to be updated about new stories!

ﾒ𝟶

[earthchica]

whiskey kisses

logan howlett x black! reader

summary: You are sexually frustrated and Wade tries to hook you up with Logan.

warning: explicit smut (18+), drinking alcohol, protected sex, dirty talking, foreplay, oral & vaginal fingering (f), pet names (sweet pea, baby, etc.)

__

"Hey Peter, how about another round?" You inquired with a smile, sliding your empty glass across the counter.

You were attending a party that your neighbor friend, Wade Wilson was throwing.

He's been encouraging you to socialize more ever since your messy divorce.

So here you were, all dressed up and feeling pretty. You were told there would be eligible bachelors here which got you thinking about having a lighthearted post-divorce fling.

You jolted back to reality when a familiar voice called your name. You swiveled around to find Wade.

"Anyone caught your eye yet?" He chirped, plopping down beside you at the small bar.

"Wade, you promised eligible bachelors at this party, but I'm not spotting any," You exclaimed, swiveling on your stool to scan the room.

"Yeah…I know sweet pea. I just told you that so you can hook up with the perfect guy to blow your back out" He quipped, gesturing towards Logan who was sitting in the corner, sipping a glass of whiskey.

"What about Logan? He's single, trustworthy, and easy on the eyes.," He whispered that last part with a grin.

"No, Wade. No, I can't ask him. That would be weird; plus he's a friend," You declined, shaking your head.

"Why the hell not? Maybe he'd say yes if you asked. Come on, you asked me for help and I've given it to you" He pressed.

"Ugh…what? No way…I can't just be like, 'Hey, logan feeling lonely, wanna…you know fuck?" You joked, rolling your eyes.

"Oh my god, if you go up and say that to him…I think I'll die happy" Wade says, sharing a glance with you, and you both burst into laughter.

"Okay, that was a bit much, but still. Logan….I don't think he's the type of guy who would be into that"

"_____, I'm gonna be honest. You gotta stop being so fucking uptight and just go with the flow, sweet pea"

"Whoa, hold up! I am not uptight," You fire back, arms crossed in defense.

"sweet pea, this is me you're talking to. You know I'm right" He teases, raising an eyebrow.

"Ugh…fine," You shake your head, slightly irritated. "Yay, now come on!" He chuckles, tugging you along.

"Where are we going?" You ask, feeling a bit jittery.

"Going to have fun, something you're overdue for," Wade replies, pulling you to the dance floor.

You take a deep breath, let loose, and groove to the music, swinging your hips from side to side.

"Oh look who's watching you," He whispers in your ear, and Logan looks at you with a deep gaze, jealousy gracing his face.

He was eyeing you like a lion tracking its prey, a new look that intrigued you.

It's kind of, a turn-on.

"Take the hint!" Wade nudges before going to join Vanessa. A favorite song of yours started blasting.

It was time to crank up the sass and put on a show for his eyes only. You shut your eyes and let your hips groove, causing a commotion with your ass.

A cheeky grin crept onto your face as a familiar hand landed on your lower back.

"You took your sweet time," You teased, sensing his flawless frame snug against yours.

His touch glided over the silky material of your dress as we swayed in sync on the dance floor, perfectly attuned to each other's beat.

"You look so gorgeous tonight, sweetheart. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you…I've been holding back saying this but I want you," Logan murmurs in your ear.

"What do you mean, you want me?" You inquire, fully aware of his intentions, yet craving to hear him verbalize them.

"You know what I mean! I'm attracted to you, always have been. When we first met I thought you were the most gorgeous woman" he declares, gently turning your body to meet his gaze.

His gaze pierced through you, those hazel brown eyes longing for something untold.

"You'll be amazed by how irresistible I am," You teased, nervously nibbling on your lip.

His lips inch closer to your ears, the warmth of his breath dancing tantalizingly on your brown skin.

"Can I kiss you?" he murmurs, and in a split second, you yank him closer for a fiery smooch, tangling your fingers in his hair.

His hands decided to take a detour from your waist to my backside, giving it a playful pat.

Breaking away from the kiss, he rose to his full height, enjoying how he towered you.

"Let's go somewhere…more private" he declares, not bothering to hear your response.

You both waved goodbye to everyone, made your grand exit, and quickly made it to your apartment

_

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll forget your name" Logan whispered, leaving kisses down the back of your neck.

You both triumphantly crossed the threshold of your front door, while kissing and touching all over.

Logan pulls away to lift you up and secure your legs around his waist, before carrying you to your bedroom following your instructions.

He sets you down on the bed before enjoying you. He begins kissing and caressing your neck.

His hand moves under your dress to softly stroking through your panties.

You gently pushed him back, removing his shirt and tossing it across the room. Then, your hands move to his pants' belt.

You played with the belt for a second until it was finally unlatched. You noticed a noticeable bulge starting to emerge in his underwear.

You lightly grazed against his pants, and he let out a groan. You swiftly turned him onto his back and liberated him from his pants and underwear.

You couldn't resist a dramatic gasp! You looked at his big, juicy erect member.

How the hell was that going to fit?

"This is all for you, amor" Logan teases, almost tearing your dress off in one swift move!

He let out a gasp when he caught a glimpse of your big, plump breasts and your black panties

"Oh sweetheart, you have the most perfect tits I have ever seen," He says, cheekily flipping you over and playfully swiping your panties off!

He makes his way down to your entrance, giving you a few light circle strokes before inserting two fingers into your dripping core.

"Logan, please!" You moaned in pleasure, trying to push him away because the faster he thrust his fingers in and out of you.

The louder you get.

"Tell me what you want, baby? and I'll give it to you" He asks, pressing his forehead against mine while still fingering the heck out of you.

"I-I-want you to fuck me." You screamed through your orgasm and as you came down from your high.

Logan begins leaving sweet kisses down your neck as you catch your breath.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, watching him slurp his fingers spotless. He nodded and dashed off the bed to grab one from his pants.

Logan gets back on the bed, rolling the condom on his member before spreading your legs open to position himself at your core

"Ahh Fuck!" You gasped, feeling how huge he was and loving how he stretched you out.

You placed your hand on his hip as he began to thrust in and out, holding your waist.

"Shit baby…you feel like heaven. I could stay inside of you forever" His thrusts became faster, looking down, admiring the way his member moves in and out of you.

"Logan, don't stop" You let out a dramatic moan as he lifted you and plopped down on his back.

"I would never stop" He starts pounding up into you with some unbelievable force, making you scream in pleasure.

You threw your head back, placing your hands on his chest; trying to match his rhythm of thrust.

"Yes! Yes! Just like that" You moaned, feeling another orgasm getting closer and closer.

"You like that huh, does it feel good? You've always dreamed of this moment huh, baby?" Logan moans, grabbing your breast for a second, letting you bounce up and down his shaft.

"Yes, so good! It feels so good, Logan" You cried as he kept going and going, feeling like you were gonna lose your damn mind.

He stopped you for a second and pulled out, changing the position with your face down and your ass up.

"Oh…baby. You also have the most perfect ass" Logan groans, smacking your ass over and over again while pounding into your core.

"LOGAN!" You cried, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. He brought you up and wrapped his hand around your throat while his other hand rubbed your entrance.

"Come. Come for me, my sweet girl!" He whispers in your ear, and you let out a scream, feeling the great release.

Logan curses while pulling out, rips the condom off, and comes all over your ass.

You landed smack on your belly, catching a mischievous grin on his face before closing your eyes.

"Fuck…I love you…You are so…" Realizing what he was saying, Logan went into full panic mode.

He looked down to see your reaction but breathed a sigh of relief realizing you were out cold.

[yaekiss]

*crawls in here again* hi qi! for #mailroom open, I'm sending my letter to yan!zhongli. I'll take any gender neutral/masc nicknames, and I'm writing in meme 2. oh, and nsfw reply please lkjhdfg cheers to 400!

My dearest, Zhongli

I'm writing to you under the moonlight of Sumeru. There's... as much to say as the forest is vast. On my travel to the city, a kind forest ranger had given me directions to lodge with a pair of men while I stay. They remind me of you, actually, if you were split in two. They're both quite knowledgeable, being alumni from the Akademiya, but one has a more calm temper like yours, and the other has more refined taste.

I've had a lot of fun here for the time being, but I miss you so. I must be transparent... I may have partaken in some drinks in their company once, a delicate, local vintage. Please forgive me my darling, you must know I'm prisoner to your heart. I wasn't in a clear state of mind as I... kissed them. That's as far as it went, I promise.

I'm sorry to end this on a sour note. And I'm deeply sorry for my actions. My precious, I'll do anything to show you you're the only one for me. All you need is ask.

Awaiting to be in your arms again, your Andi.

(along with the letter is a bouquet of Sumeru roses wrapped in paper and pink ribbon and a pair of handcuffs)

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! Top! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Zhongli, no gendered terms for reader, reader can be read as having a cock or a strap, polycule/polyamory (Zhongli, Alhaitham, and Kaveh are all mentioned in this), small mention of aphrodisiac but not used, possessiveness and unhealthy relationships, worshipping (reader receiving), biting (Zhongli receiving), snowballing, handcuffs (not used on reader), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: I think you better check the contents of your box before bringing it back up to your room. I got some troubling reports from the staff in the mailroom... Tell me if anything is off, I'll be at the counter! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

A not-too-hefty box is passed to you in the hotel lobby when you return to rest for the night. Asked kindly by the staff to double-check its contents, you settle down on a nearby lounge chair before opening it up to inspect what’s inside.

You find a Liyuean tea set, fit for a group of four, the colour of the teaware a beautiful earthy brown, reminiscent of your dearest back in Liyue. In the hotel lighting, light bounces off the surface of the teacup you’re cradling in your hands and reveals an underlying pattern of sheer golden dragon scales. A breath. Oh. He crafted this himself.

Setting the cup back into its cushioned groove in the box, you pick up a sealed bag of tea leaves. Zhongli was the one to introduce you to mixing different types of teas to create a layered taste that you couldn’t find anywhere else. No one else knew your tastes quite like he did, always so frustratingly addictive. You read the attached tag, “An aphrodisiac blend of tea leaves, so I am not the only one left wanting.” That sly dragon, desiring you carnally even miles away.

Of course, no gift from Zhongli is complete without a letter. It’s a little strange that the envelope is not sealed properly, terribly unlike your lover to flub up. But he does seem to always forget to bring his wallet around, perhaps a mindless slip. You know how excited he gets when it comes to matters concerning you, so you chalk it up to enthusiastic forgetfulness.

After removing the letter from the box, you gently close the lid. His letter is written on paper with a stunning gold trim, one he reserves only for letters to you. The words are evenly spaced out, neat, pleasing to the eye (and maybe looking at his handwriting feels a little like coming home). His letter reads: 

“In loving correspondence to my heavenly pearl,

First of all, it is simply wonderful to hear from you again, my pearl. It puts my mind at ease to know that you are still here, present, on Teyvat with me. I know not what I would do if I never heard back from you, I have lost too much, I cannot lose you too… Forgive me for being direct, it must be the aching longing to see you again.

Moving on, I suppose we must address the issue which you deem so pressing. I am sure you will be delighted to hear that I am no stranger to the concept of having multiple lovers, for you are simply just that magnetic, my pearl. This dragon has learnt to be more than generous over the countless millennia I have existed.

(The handwriting seems to get a little more compacted together starting from here, as if he’s growing increasingly frenzied the more he writes.) However, when it comes to you, I wish to be a little selfish. I’d love you to love me, most. I am willing to share but let the two see that only I can please you, that I was the first to capture your heart. Perhaps, if you allowed it, I could even restrain their hands as they watch on at the sight of you pounding into me, marking me up with bites that leave lasting marks. All while I can only hazily mutter out my reverent devotion towards you. How charming you must be, to have an archon grovelling at your feet. But my pearl, you deserve all of me and more.

Would you let me service you, pleasing you until you finish on my forked tongue, before I snake my way over to the two scholars, kissing the both of them? The only way they could ever taste you is through me alone. In my presence at least. Imagine how they would writhe and beg for you in their cuffs, their hard cocks straining against the fabric of their pants, yet they are unable to do anything about it, so pitifully close yet so far. You might call me sadistic, but the thought excites you, no?

(The handwriting returns to its usual normal spacing and formatting at the start of the letter.) …It seems that I have gotten too worked up, I shall leave my response at this. When you return, do bring your two loverboys in tow, yes? I look forward to meeting them.

Utterly yours,

- Zhongli -”

“Thought we’d find you here! What do you have there?” Kaveh’s voice rings out from before you. Looking up, Alhaitham and Kaveh greet you. Kaveh sports a blinding smile while Alhaitham’s face, although appearing neutral, radiates a sort of softness towards you.

“A reply from my lover in Liyue after I sent them a love letter recently.” Your eyes roving over Zhongli’s words in your hands again, you miss the way their eyebrows pinch slightly at how tenderly the words “love letter” rolled off your tongue. 

“Is it the one with the brown tea set?” There’s a tinge of… something in Kaveh’s voice. 

“Yes, he did send me a lovely-” Your mind stills. You’ve never mentioned anything about a tea set yet. The box is closed. The envelope was strangely open when you first took it out.

Your gaze snaps up to them, and they share a conspiratory glance before Alhaitham leans in, whispering lowly next to your ear.

“Kaveh and I were simply thinking we could get a… headstart on showing how much we want to worship you, our prince.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[eregyrn-falls]

Gravity Falls Revival Prospects Teased by Disney TV Boss (Exclusive)

By Russ Milheim Posted: June 05, 2024

(From "The Direct", original article linked above.) While Gravity Falls may have ended in 2014 on the Disney Channel, fans are still hoping for a revival—thankfully, that doesn't look too far out of reach, at least according to an update from a top Disney executive. The series may have ended in 2014, but since then, creator Alex Hirsch has published several books in the universe. This included Gravity Falls: Tales of the Strange and Unexplained, Lost Legends, and Journal 3. In fact, another book is even coming out later this year, called The Book of Bill, which tells the story of the show from the perspective of the big bad. However, while books are great and all, a continuation of the show would absolutely thrill the franchise’s fanbase. In an exclusive interview with The Direct’s Russ Milheim while promoting the release of Big City Greens the Movie: Spacecation, Executive Vice President of Television Animation and Disney Branded Television Meredith Roberts gave a hopeful update on a possible Gravity Falls revival. She confirmed that they’re “in conversations with [creator] Alex [Hirsch]” before ending with an encouraging “never say never:” “You know, we're in conversations with Alex. He's about to publish a book with Disney on his project. And we also do some shorts. So never say never.”

What Could Be Next for Gravity Falls? While the update is a small one, plenty of fans will be thrilled to see even a slight glimmer of home. Sure, the new book releases are exciting, but not nearly as much as having the show back. If the show were to return, creator Alex Hirsch would likely want to introduce a new threat other than Bill. Admittedly, that's a high bar to clear. Perhaps a continuation would also age its leading characters, Dipper and Mabel. However, having older leads could transform Gravity Falls into a much different, more adult-based narrative. Either way, there's plenty of demand from fans to see the world of Gravity Falls again. Hopefully, that's something Disney can capitalize on sooner rather than later.

Since this is going around, and I haven't seen it posted here... well, here you go. What does it mean? Nobody knows! It may not mean anything. It's hard to tell whether this is just a Disney exec making noises for promotional purposes or what. I honestly would take this with a grain of salt until or unless Alex himself posts or tweets about it.

(My own thoughts: to be worthwhile, I strongly feel that any new Gravity Falls content would need to have the involvement of Alex Hirsch AND a good chunk of the other folks who worked on the show. People like Rob Renzetti, and others like Matt Braly, Alonso Ramirez Ramos, Emmy Ciceriega, Dana Terrace, Matt Chapman, Jeff Rowe, etc. etc. It would probably be difficult to impossible to get everyone back, unless it was for a very limited project, like a TV-movie or something.

I'm not saying they would ALL need to be back, and I do also think you could find some new folks to work on the project who would be very good replacements for some of the original crew who might not be able to come back. But, I've said many, many times: Gravity Falls was not the work of only one man. I respect the hell out of Alex Hirsch, but, the show that we love had contributions from a lot of other people that went into creating the final product. If what we want is something as good as the original show, then I think it would need input from those people.

And even then, we still have to keep in mind that it can be difficult to recapture lightning in a bottle. Even if they got back a majority of the original team, it's 10 years later (ish), and all of those folks have been through a lot, and most haven't been working with each other. There's a groove that the crew of the show got into at the time, and they'd have to recapture that groove. It would be different in at least SOME ways. Maybe a GOOD different! A lot would depend on the enthusiasm they had for doing it.)

So, we'll see! Keep an eye out, though, for more news.

[muraseclinic]

This is the dumbest post I will ever make online. Anon on to keep my last shred of dignity. Hope the post doesn't break.

All of your pretty words have been plaguing my fucking mind recently. Been thinking a lot about the type of shit you say. I'm normally a sadist dom, but your posts slip me into a stupid fucking masochistic stupor. I've read at least every word about a dozen times over. It's pretty fucked up how desperate I am about all this. I doubt you even care, but I don't think I want you to.

I picture the scene pretty vividly, you telling me exactly what steps puppy has to follow. Maybe I fight back, helplessly trying to turn the tables, but it doesn't work. It'll never work against you. You'll only mindfuck me harder. Telling me I don't know what I want, telling me to get over it. How I don't deserve to be in control. Slipping me further and further into absolute submission, I won't be able to resist anymore.

You'll tell me to cut my veins open, let it all bleed out, and I'll obey. 'Cause it's what you want. My desires don't matter. It's all about pleasing you. The knife'll sink deep into my flesh, carving deep grooves, brilliant shades of red rising to the surface. The blood scent in the air is fucking pungent. You'll laugh, almost angelic but truthfully cruel. You'll stomp down on my wrist, the blood spurting out of the cuts onto your boot, maybe you'll even fracture the bone. You'll tell me to clean up my mess. I'll stick my tongue out like the whores in pornos do, idiot and crass, and I'll lick up my own gore off the vamp of your boot without a second thought. That copper taste so familiar, it's all I'll know beyond this point.

We'll go for hours, days even. I'll be a fuckin' drugged up cut up mess, sobbing and broken, and you'll be laughing through it all. You'll get bored eventually, I know you will, and then you'll give me one last command. You'll tell me those lovely parting words, tell me to kill myself for you, it's the final act to our fucked up scene. And I'll do it. A kicked puppy only wants to please its ruthless master. I'll make it slow, just so you can take in my gargled cries like an alluringly haunting symphony of pain. Choking on my own blood, fucking filthy.

Then what comes after? That's for you to decide. Not me, of course.

fuck anon .ᐟ ,, you’ve really outdone yourself this time haven’t you (ㅅ´ ˘ `) i gotta say, i'm flattered that my “pretty words” have been rattling around that head of yours . . .

now, for that very very nice scene you mentioned . .

i'd peel away that last shred of dignity, leaving you a broken mess at my feet. it’d take some effort, considering you have the same knack for violence and defiance as an untrained mutt, but we’d eventually get there wouldn’t we .ᐣ i'd savor every agonized gasp, every gurgled cry as you choke on your own blood. it'd be one of the most beautiful, and most disgusting things i’ve ever seen, and it’d be all for me . . .

i’d enjoy the moment, might even record you killing yourself just to add it to my personal collection. but, once the deed has been done, and you're lying there in a pool of your own blood .ᐣ well, my interest tends to wane pretty damn quick. ᓚᘏᗢ i dunno - i've got better things to do than babysit a corpse. . .

but just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t be useful, now does it .ᐣ you’ve got a little more left to give until i get sick of you. . .

i’m sure i’d find something, anything, to make it so that even in death you weren’t a waste of time. cut into you with zero-surgical precision, rough and uneven, take out whatever interests me or whatever i think might taste good (๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘) maybe i won’t be able to hold back, might not be able to wait til’ everything is clean, cut and organized. might start tearing into you right then and there, making more of a mess of things. you won’t mind, right .ᐣ for the rest of you, i’ll find ways to utilize every last scrap. maybe i’ll tan your skin, craft it into a wallet or a glove . . might take a picture of your body n’ hang it somewhere. your corpse, once i’ve gotten everything i can out of if, will probably be left behind some dingy motel or in an alleyway.

if i’m feeling nice, i might even send it home to where your family is as a surprise. they can burden themselves with it now ᥫ᭡

[putschki1969]

Kaji Fes.2023 Day 2 FULL Video

»»——  CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

❗FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗CREDIT me if you SHARE on other sites❗

Yes, finally we have a recording of Day 2. Even though I was there for Day 2 back in December, I was still excited to experience the whole thing again. Unfortunately, I never got to write my report so I guess I will use the opportunity to share some of my memories and current thoughts.

Here goes nothing┗(•ˇ_ˇ•)―→

street corner: Looks like they cut this. I am surprised because they had a much longer slot for Day 2 (3 hours instead of just 2) so I was sure they would be able to squeeze all of it into the broadcast but apparently not. Oh well, can't say I am said about that because being confronted with the accordion right from the get-go at the live really didn't leave a good impression on me. I had pretty high expectations for the whole thing and this intro left me more than underwhelmed. Thank God we transitioned right to "希望の光".

希望の光: Now THIS is the intro I was hoping for. What a gorgeous melody! I wasn't familiar with the track but my God, I got goosebumps all over. I literally felt this in my entire body. The gradual build-up to a more grand-scale symphonic arrangement towards the end really impressed me. I am just obsessed with the uilleann pipes and the Celtic sound. I honestly struggle to get beyond this because I keep rewinding the video.

prelude to Act 1: The look on my face when I heard those first few notes. I was shooketh to say the least. I most definitely did not expect them to do the Kalafina block this early in the live but I knew that if they were doing the Madoka instrumentals, the most logical thing would be to transition straight into a Kalafina track. While I have never watched the anime, these are melodies I hold very dear to my heart so I loved this. It was also a great pleasure to hear Eri Ito live for the first time. I will never get enough of Yuki's more classically trained vocalists. it's such a pleasure to listen to them.

Numquam vincar: After "prelude to Act 1" this was no surprise at all but damn, I am so glad they played this. I've never actually had the chance to experience this track live even though they obviously performed it numerous times during Kalafina live intermissions. What a pleasure to be there and truly feel the epicness of that intro. Once more I was covered in goosebumps.

Magia [quattro]: At this point I knew it was coming but it was still a shock to my system. Like I said earlier, I was sure that they would wait until the very end to do the Kalafina block (that's what they had done for earlier lives) so I thought I had some time to prepare myself and get into the groove so to speak. My body certainly wasn't ready so maybe that's why my brain couldn't properly compute the whole thing. I remember not being as hyped as I expected to be and that made me kinda sad. I am so grateful that we are getting this recording and a blu-ray release because I feel like I couldn't fully appreciate the performance while I was there. Getting to see it again is a real treat and I must say, I like this much more than the previous FJ "covers" we have gotten of this song. Hikaru and Keiko sound so perfectly in tune and I just love their powerful delivery. For the most part, I don't mind the higher harmonies provided by Yuriko and Joelle. Although during some parts (e.g. mayowazu ni yukeru nara), I feel like Joelle and Keiko don't harmonise very well together but whatever, it doesn't bother me too much. On a random side note, I wasted way too much time wondering about why I thought that Keiko's arms looked kinda naked until I finally realised that the puffy sleeve pieces of her outfit were missing.

storia: I did not expect this to make it onto the setlist but I am a big fan of the song so I was happy when I heard the first notes. Overall, I think I like this version well enough although I will admit that my favourite part has always been the chorus with Keiko and Wakana so it is a bit jarring to hear Joelle for these parts. Don't get me wrong, Joelle sounds great and I feel like the harmony between her and Keiko works better here than during "Magia" but still, it can't quite touch my heart. I mean, just thinking of all the Kalafina performances where Wakana and Keiko gaze lovingly into each other's eyes while they sing the "yasashii uta..." line makes me tear up. Nothing will ever be able to replace that for me. A few days later I attended Wakana's concert where she also performed "storia". This may sound ridiculous but hearing those performances more or less back to back almost felt as if the three of them had been reunited. Even though this might have been a coincidence, just the idea of this little connection had me in tears.

君の銀の庭: Oh, another cut song. Thank God we are getting the Blu-Ray. I will be honest with you though, I am quite sad that they chose two Kalafina songs that I don't particularly like. I couldn't get as excited as I wanted to be. I think I had no complaints about this performance, enjoyed everyone's vocals and didn't really notice Wakana's absence. But I guess that's because I wasn't a big fan of the song to begin with :P

to the beginning: It will forever be a mystery to me why this is such a fan favourite but oh well, let's not linger on that. In some way, it's almost a blessing in disguise for me to not have such a strong emotional connection to these songs because it helps me appreciate the new versions a lot more. No matter how skilled of a singer Joelle might be, if I am invested in a performance with a prominent Wakana part, there is no way anyone will ever live up to that. It's 100% a me problem, I realise that but I doubt I will ever be able change that way of thinking. Anyways, this was a perfectly fine rendition.

海と真珠: Don't think I've ever heard a JUNNA song. Not a huge fan of her voice, it's just too generic for me. But there's something about this song that I like, especially that those hey-hey woah parts. The chorus is decent too. It's not a track I would skip but also not something I would actively seek out.

太陽の航路: Not my cup of tea. I can tell that there is a nice melody hidden in the chorus but it's a bit too fast-paced for me.

time to sail!: Yet another cut. I loved this. Was already familiar with it from a previous recording so I really appreciated getting to hear t live. It's somewhat of a very epic and grand-scale version of "Umi to Shinju" which I am only realising now XD

The main theme of “L.O.R.D”: Can't tell you how very much I am in love with this song. The first time I got to experience this live was in Taiwan back in 2019. The song is so fucking good, I will never get tired of it. I was utterly blown away by Joelle's vocal prowess. I know it always sounds like I am low-key bullying her but that's really not my attention. I am just forever too hung-up on Wakana to ever be able to accept anyone else taking up my favourite parts of her.

I talk to the rain: Can't wait to hear this again on the Blu-ray.

a song of storm and fire: In my report for Day 1 I did talk about tis and "salva nos" being my first introduction to Yuki Kajiura's music. I feel so privileged to have finally been there for a live performance. Needless to say, it was everything that I could have asked for. Watching the recording now doesn't even do it justice. It was so much more powerful at the venue.

ring your song: This always brings tears to my eyes. The melody is just so beautiful and when they all join in, it's literal perfection.

ことのほかやわらかい: God dammit, I really want to like this song because in theory it should be right up my alley. I mean, the instrumental intro is to die for, it's so promising but then it's just all over the place and I can't get into it T_T

夜光塗料: Not a huge fan of ASCA unfortunately and I do not care for the song either.

雲雀: Surprisingly fond of this. Very nice melody. Can see myself listening to it on a regular basis.

君が見た夢の物語: Not much to say about this except that I enjoyed Keiko's lower harmonies. It's not a bad song per se so I probably would have liked it more if it didn't have ASCA on main.

everlasting song: This is always fun although I do enjoy the version without FJ ASUKA more. I know that sounds horrible considering it's literally her song but I will never be a fan of Yuki's vocalists with a more generic voices. Wakana's "kimi no me ni..." will forever be my favourite!!

世界の果て: No thoughts really.

優しい夜明け: Joelle is a much better fit for this See-Saw song than Yuuka. Very enjoyable.

君がいた物語: A favourite of mine. Do I prefer the version with Wakana? Of course! Do I have fun with this version too? Mostly yeah! Kaori's always work for me here but I can tolerate it.

Rainbow~Main Theme~: This was a nice treat. Very fond of KOKIA as a vocalist and this is just a super beautiful song. Have always liked it.

風よ、吹け: Not as smitten with this new KOKIA song but it's nice enough. I certainly wouldn't skip it

lotus: Wow, two Hanae cuts! How rude!!

inverse operation:

目覚め: I do love the Wakana versions but I also enjoy versions with other main vocalists. And of course, Hanae does an amazing job.

夕闇のうた: I know this didn't leave a good impression on me when I first heard it and I can't say I feel much different about it now.

荒野流転: This upcoming FJ Yuuka corner didn't do anything for me, it was the point where I started to get really tired and distracted. It was a struggle to still pay attention even though these were all more up-beat songs.

Silly-Go-Round: Nope.

cazador del amor: Meh.

nowhere: The only song I actually enjoyed from this corner. ASCA thankfully used a voice that I didn't find too grating (which can't be said about rito, JUNNA and Lino). Almost wish I had stood up for this performance and the next because Keiko was spending a lot of time on the left side of the stage (I had an arena seat pretty close to the stage on the left) but I probably wouldn't have had a good view of Keiko anyway so I preferred to just watch the screen. And to be honest, I am not the type of person to stand up and do some weird moves anyway so it was probably for the best. No need to embarrass myself in front of people who actually know how to move their body.

zodiacal sign: I mean, when is this ever not an absolute pleasure?

into the world: I was hoping to see Hikaru again since almost all the other guest vocalists had had a second appearance and yay, she came back on stage for the final song before the encore! "into the world" was such a perfect ending. I definitely got choked up, especially towards the climax of the song when Keiko was really putting all of herself into it.

red rose: Not my favourite but a good track for all the musicians to shine again.

Parade: It's my favourite song from the album and a fitting ending for this behemoth of a concert. At this point, everyone was close to tears after Yuki's little speech so that made it so much more moving. Love, love, love!! Right after they all take a bow and everyone is leaving the stage, I am glad they zoomed in a bit on Keiko who was wiping away some tears and leaning on Hikaru. That moment killed me at the live.

[thiscanbegood]

WHAT IS THE SECOND FUNERAL?

So I've been going crazy trying to figure out a timeline of events based on the episodes descriptions we got. We know Luca makes an appearance and that something happens to Marcus that makes him lose his focus enough for him to need a moment to get his groove back (which we all are pretty sure it's his mom's passing). All of that happens from the start to mid season.

BUT there's a mention of a funeral at the last episode.

Some people are guessing Donna's or Jimmy's but I feel like their passing in last ep would be such a huge cliffhanger that giving it away in the description like that just doesn't makes sense. Plus, Carm hasn't been seen actually processing his grief for losing his brother, Donna passing would be another huge blow and we wouldn't get to see each process separately, consecutive and similar punches might be cool in a fight but in a tv series would feel too much.

My guesses are on either one of these two (or a mix, they aren't mutually exclusive):

1. Something like a Michael's funeral redo for Carm. Giving him more closure and acceptance, maybe get in his brother's head somehow (his real head and not the persona's he liked to use with his weird messages and catch phrases) to understand his suffering and why he kept Carm away.

2. The Bear is gonna be put to rest. Either by an accident that compromises the building or by money problems (considering Mr. Eleven Mad is going cray cray with the budget making daily changes to the menu), the restaurant closes and the crew morn the loss. In this case (love this plot, have to admit) I think we'd get a light at end of the tunnel kinda thing, like Syd having an offer in the bag to open her own place (maybe the opportunity she gets) and take the crew with her or some investor looking to put money on a sydcarmy's restaurant.

Anyway this funeral goes, I think the restaurant is gonna finish the season in very shaky legs even if they get a star, like the opposite of the end of S2, which was "disaster just happened with this guy in the freezer but good things ahead maybe", S3 could be "great thing just happened but there's an incoming disaster, stay tuned for S4" lol.

Let me know what you think the another funeral is going to be if you want, would appreciate it!

[etirabys]

alright, I'm going to make a post detailing things I liked about my wedding because I think it will help my long term psychological health about it or something

the flowers were lovely, I liked the palette we gave our florist and she did a nice job. I've been fingering one of the leftover roses on and off for a day and slowly shredding it

when all the flowers dry up I think I'll try making rosewater

we chose alcohol we liked, and we have a lot left over, meaning we're set to host spontaneous parties and such

my boyfriend told me that while my hair dress and makeup made me look quite unlike my usual self, I looked very bridenappable

we set aside 5-10m for our photographer to take photos of us with our other partners, which was nice

my parents were happy!!! oh my gosh they were so happy. I managed to not ruin it for them out of revenge for making me do it which was a feat of heroism and also benzodiazepines. I have ancient brain grooves of punishing them for making me do hateful things by trying to make them just as miserable, and the temptation was immense, but I largely did not do it and I have a bunch of photos of them smiling and dancing

I don't have photos from our main photographer yet but @drethelin sent me some of his and they look great. I didn't expect to be this into the photos but I'm so psyched to have the rest. Will probably post some when I get them

the fancy cake we got had fondant that I liked. I had gotten small heart shaped samples of the fondant before and I had fully expected to enjoy eating a cake covered in it. And I did. It was like marshmallow with more conviction.

my two favorite college friends crashed at my place over the weekend and it was great catching up with them. they got along really well with my other friends and partners. just going on and on about French zoning policy

I look eh in hanbok but the giant looks beautiful in hanbok. He prefers hanbok to a Western suit and frankly looks more natural that way.

the DJ did a great job! Originally we planned for "maybe a little bit of dancing" (I looked at the guest spreadsheet and guessed maybe 7 people would be willing to dance, tops) but we got like 20 people in on it.

the afterparty I put together last minute was the most enjoyable part of the day. I was pretty dead (I'd gotten up at 7:30am to get hair done) but it was nice to be my normal self, not constrained by relatives. I occasionally went around rooms, noted what conversations were going on, and matchmade by fetching someone who I thought would especially enjoy that conversation

the giant and I didn't have the usual "we'll be able to call ourselves husband and wife" motivation since we got legally married years ago, so we invented "wife plus" and "platinum husband" to describe some imaginary next level of marriage we are on.

I was forced to learn how to iron to get the hanbok presentable, and now I feel like a more powerful human being

my relatives gave me money as a wedding gift. but my dad drummed it into me that they expect it back when their kids get married and I go to their weddings. and that it would be quite inappropriate if I failed to do this. I ventured tentatively that this would all be simplified if we simply did not give each other money gifts and he was so offended at my attack on tradition & decency that I hastily backtracked. but in theory I still win because of inflation? because it's an interest free loan. also their kids might not get married. or invite me

[penvisions]

final chapter celebration! {by the grit of sandpaper}

i kinda wanna give celebrating this fic a try since it's been such a journey! was thinking of taking a leaf out of the book of @macfrog, since they did the same for their lovely fic sweet child o' mine that i had an absolute blast following along from the first chapter

{by the grit of sandpaper} has brought me so many new followers and readers and i want to complete the fic with y'all in mind! i've got it mostly outlined but have to actually write the scenes out, so i'm tentatively saying it'll be ready for posting in the next two weeks. with that in mind y'all can be rest assured all your questions about olive and joel will be answered then! i have loved writing this little universe and sharing it with you, the comments and replies on each chapter have blown me away in the best way possible, the energy surrounding this fic has rivaled that of {garnish} and i am so grateful

send in an ask with an emoji between 04/26 and 05/10 and let's celebrate!

🤎 send in an ask about the fic! can be anything from more background on olive or how things between the scenes played out

🍄 send in a mushie for three out of context images for a sneakie peak from the final chapter and epilogue (maybe even one shot ideas and deleted scenes 👀)

🐎 send in a 'small talk' subject and i'll write a small snippet about olive and joel while out on patrol (kinda like the favorite chip flavor convo they had while clearing teton village)

🌲 just share your thoughts on the fic as we come to a close on it, maybe a favorite line or scene

🪚 send this in for a reference pic of what joel's beautiful hands have created!

feel free to send more than one or even multiple! this is for y'all to have fun and for me to get back into the groove of being excited about writing again once things calm down and i'm settled in my new residence, love y'all ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

taglist: @joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal @merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon

@keylimebeag @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel @blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @r4vens-cl4ws @picketniffler @joeldjarin

[buckymorelikefuckme]

spice up your life

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 1k

warnings: none i don't think?? maybe a tiny bit of secondhand embarrassment. otherwise this is just fluff! but let me know if there's something i should tag pls.

a/n: i've had a beloved girl group stuck in my head all morning and this was my outlet for that. sorry not sorry for yet another jakey story. that's my baby and i love him. no proofreading whatsoever, just vibes!! any and all mistakes are mine, feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated ♡ xoxo

On this blessed weekend morning (afternoon, actually, but that’s not important) you’ve just finished your shower. You’re dressed in a tiny tank-top and a matching pair of panties, your hair wrapped in a towel while you sit on the bench at the end of your bed and rub lotion into your freshly shaved legs. The Spice Girls are blasting through your bluetooth speaker and you’re happily singing along without a care in the world.

“Say you can handle my love, are you for real?” you croon, wiggling in place of dancing until you’re done with the lotion. “I won’t be hasty,” you wail louder, “I’ll give you a try. If you really bug me then I'll say goodbye.”

You stand with a bounce, alerting the room at large that you’ll tell them what you want, what you really, really want. As you put away your lotion, you shimmy your chest and shake your hips. You even stop for an extended dance break.

“Slam your body down, and zig-a-zig ah! If you wanna be my lover,” you finish with a flourish, giggling.

The next song starts playing and you let out a gasp of delight, reaching for your hairbrush and using it as a microphone. You set yourself up in front of your mirror, using yourself as a makeshift audience and doing what you can remember from the choreography.

“Slam it to the left, if you're havin’ a good time! Shake it to the right, if ya know that you feel fine!”

You have a split second of thinking that you should probably calm down, since you just showered, and working up a sweat because you can’t help yourself from putting on a one-woman show would be very annoying. But… it’s the Spice Girls. It’s next to impossible to not dance and sing along. At some point, your now damp hair has fallen out of the towel, and instead of using your brush for its intended purpose, you continue singing into it. When you start getting almost too warm, you make yourself stop flailing around and actually brush your hair.

You pull it up into a messy bun on top of your head when you’re done and skip out of your room to the kitchen, taking your speaker with you. You’re feeling kinda hungry, so you go about fixing up a sandwich for yourself, still warbling away with whatever song that plays.

Since it’s early spring, the weather is still relatively cool out, so you’ve got your windows open to let in the fresh air and natural light. It never crossed your mind that perhaps your audience of one was actually an audience of two. However, when you’re in the middle of singing through a mouthful of your sandwich, you just so happen to glance out the window in your living room.

“All that joy can bring, this I swear—“ You freeze, eyes growing wide, cheeks bulging with food, and heat crawling up your neck when you lock eyes with the tenant across the courtyard of your apartment complex.

It’s just your luck it turns out to be the new guy—the cute, nerdy, beefy one. He’s equally wide-eyed behind his glasses, mouth open a little in surprise. You squeak and dart out of his line of vision, mortification consuming you as you lean against the wall and groan. What a fucking first impression to make. Prancing around in next to nothing and stuffing your face like a goddamn squirrel. Jesus.

Your music is still blaring, though, and you've kind of lost your groove, so you hastily scamper back across the kitchen to jam your thumb on the button to lower the volume. Even with the song continuing to play, it feels much too quiet now. You try to finish your sandwich and act normal and not like you were just caught parading around in your underwear. Very pointedly, you do not look out the window again. If you can't see him, then he can't see you. Seems logical.

Except… You sigh dreamily. Oh, man, he's so cute, and he looked even cuter with that dumb look on his face. You try to fight it for as long as you can (which is, to your shame, not long at all) but your gaze drifts back over to the apartment across the courtyard. You're not sure if it's excitement or dread that swirls in your stomach when you see he's still standing there. He waves, sending you a lopsided smile, and you find it impossible to prevent yourself from smiling back.

“Nice moves,” he calls out of his own open window.

“Thanks, I try my best,” you reply with a bashful laugh as you approach the windowsill.

“We should tango together sometime,” he offers, immediately flushing after.

You see his mouth move as he whispers tango? under his breath, an incredulous expression on his face as he shakes his head. You cover your growing grin with your hand.

He scratches at his jaw and shrugs. “Or, you know… any kind of dancing.”

“I just do whatever comes naturally,” you flirt, tilting your head coyly.

“Right, yeah, makes sense,” he agrees with a lot of nodding.

Good grief.

“If you came over,” you start, raising your eyebrows significantly, “I could show you.”

It looks like he short circuits for a second, standing perfectly still as he processes what you just said. He suddenly jerks back to life and points a finger at his chest.

“Jake.”

You laugh and mimic the gesture, saying your name in return. Jake grins as he repeats it, soft and pleased, like he's trying it out on his tongue.

“So, I’ll just…” He trails off and waves in the direction of your apartment with a question in his eyes.

You tell him your unit number, then bite your lip to tamp down on your smile. “See you soon, big guy.”

Jake giggles, high and nervous, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, see you soon,” he replies in a gruff tone.

You cover your mouth again to stifle your own giggles, wiggling your fingers in a wave. He starts backing away from his window, his shoulder knocking into the doorway because he isn't paying attention to where he's walking. With a salute that he appears to regret instantly, he hurriedly leaves, the slam of his door echoing across the courtyard.

Okay, so, maybe your day took a turn, and you might have to shower again anyway, but it's so worth it.

[billys-pretty-babe]

Hi love! How about getting a part 2 to ur wonderful ‘pineapple’ smut. Maybe this time Billy really wants to deepthroat her?

Return the Favor

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : 2 weeks have gone by since you gave Billy head and now, you're in desperate need for release and Billy still has a favor to return.

Warnings : Swearing, sixty-nine, spitting, protected sex -> unprotected sex (please don't do this), praise kink, nicknames (pretty girl, bunny, babe, baby) and aftercare

Word count : ~ 2.3k

A/N : Part 2 of Pineapple Juice. A lot of this was pre-written but I did try and add the deepthroat concept as well as I could :) I can definitely write something separate if you'd like :)

2 weeks had gone by since you tasted him and each time you thought about it, your thighs clenched, wishing you would've accepted his offer. It was close to one in the morning but nonetheless, you walked to Billy's house, giving you time to think. You arrived and went to his window, seeing his bedroom light on still and you pulled open his window as he laid in a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. 

He looked over and smiled, stubbing out the cigarette. "Hey pretty girl." You smiled, "Hi B." You shut his window and closed his curtains before sitting on his bed. "Billy," you softly said and he hummed, his eyes on yours. "Um, I think I'm ready for you to return the favor now." He smiled, "Thank God, I've been waiting," he exclaimed, not needing to be quiet because everyone had gone to Indianapolis to see some of Neil's family. 

He pulled you close to him before kissing you, humming at the taste of your chapstick. "Is that cherry?" You laughed and nodded before pulling him back in for another kiss and he moaned softly, holding your waist, trying to bring you closer to him. “Need you closer,” he mumbled against your lips and you moved to his lap, holding his shoulders, gently scratching his back with your nails. 

You felt him harden underneath you, his erection pressing against your thigh as he gently moved your hips. “Gotta taste you,” he panted out, a string of spit connecting you to each other. “I wanna do the same,” you softly said, suddenly growing shy under your best friend’s lust-filled gaze. “Bit of a predicament.” You both giggled, breathing in each other’s oxygen with how close your faces were. “Fuck it, sixty-nine.” You raised a brow, new to the whole ‘oral sex’ scene. “You get on my face and suck me off or give me a handjob, whatever you’re comfortable with babe.” You thought about it and nodded. “Can I get some words? Voice is too pretty to be hiding it.” You smiled, “Yeah, we can do that.” He smiled and quickly pecked your swollen lips with his before swiping the pillows from his bed, leaving one in the middle and he helped you strip, kissing your soft skin that smelled like your favorite lotion and perfume. 

You were done to your bra and underwear as he trailed wet kisses down to your shoulder and he took your bra strap in-between his teeth before snapping it against your skin making you flinch a little. He put his thumbs in the elastic waistline of your underwear, his eyes looking up and you nodded, putting your hands on his shoulders as he slid the underwear to your ankles, helping you step out of them. 

He took his shorts off, leaving him bare. “You just go commando now?” He rolled his eyes, lightly swatting your thigh making you laugh. He laid down as you moved so you were hovering over his face as you face his lower half. “Is it okay if I eat you out?” You quivered and he moaned below you, “Please,” you let out meekly. He kissed your thigh quickly before placing a feather-light kiss to your clit making you jump a little. “It’s okay, I got you, promise.” You calmed down before trailing your hand down his stomach, his abs constricting under your hand as your fingers danced through the grooves of his abs, touching every freckle, every small dip he had on his torso. 

Your fingers danced down, down, down until you reached the base of him, taking him into your hand as he groaned against you, making you clench around nothing. Billy moved your thigh a little, making you spread wider for him as you licked his tip, licking off the pre-cum and you hummed. You took him into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks like he taught you to do before taking a few inches, breathing in through your nose so you wouldn’t gag. 

You felt Billy’s fingers on your thigh before he danced his fingers up, flicking your clit with his middle and ring finger before he traced your entrance, “Hell pretty, you ever been fucked before?” You pulled off of him and hummed, “Twice, been a while though.” He hummed and spread you, puckering his lips slightly and kissed your entrance, making you tense before relaxing. “Has anyone eaten you out before? You’re so jumpy.” You hummed, “No, didn’t really get much foreplay before I lost my virginity.” Billy scoffed, the air blowing onto your entrance and you moaned, digging your nails into his hairy thighs. 

You licked up his length, taking him back into your mouth as his fingers circled your entrance, playing with your slick. You hummed around him, moving up and down, flicking your tongue over his tip each time you came up. He bucked his hips, making you take more than half of him, triggering your gag reflex as you pulled away from him and coughed as he mumbled an apology against you before suckling on your clit making you moan, digging your nails into his tanned skin, making you arch your back as you looked at his ceiling. 

“There she is,” he murmured before sinking one finger into you and you were consumed by Billy, everything on your mind was just Billy, Billy, Billy and a side of Billy. You gathered yourself, taking a deep breath before working your mouth over him once more, making sure to keep breathing through your nose and you put your hand at his base and moved your wrist in a twisting motion, his entire cock coated with your saliva, some matting in his pubic hair. Minutes passed as you both pleased each other and you made your way down to his base, your tongue dragging around it, trying to fight your gag reflex as you swallowed around him, the air in the room filled with the sounds of Billy fingering you and you deep throating him, small gags coming from you as he hit the back of your throat as his hips bucked every few seconds. You both pulled away from each other to breathe.

“You okay?” You laughed and wiped your lips, “You taste like alcohol, did you put cologne on?” He snickered, nipping your thigh gently, “Maybe.” You both laughed. “My legs hurt.” Billy laughed and helped you get off of him before laying you down on his bed, softly kissing you. “Condom?” You nodded, “Don’t need baby Hargroves running around although, you’d make some cute babies.” Billy laughed and leaned over and grabbed the box of condoms before grabbing a foil packet. 

He tossed the box to the floor and looked at you, putting the packet to your lips, moving the condom to the very bottom of the wrapper. “Bite down gently.” You nodded and took the edge of the packet between your teeth and he tore the package, taking the sliver of foil from your teeth before rolling the condom onto himself. He took a hold of your legs and placed them around his waist, “Tighten them, ‘kay?” You nodded and locked your ankles behind his back or, at least you attempted to because although his waist was small, he had muscle. He kissed your cheek softly, his lashes fluttering against your temple, his forehead resting on your temple. 

“Tell me to stop if I need to, okay?” You nodded and he shook his head, “I really need words, pretty.” “I’ll tell you to stop.” He nodded and kissed you once more before taking a hold of his cock, moving one of your legs a little before pressing himself against your entrance, his eyes closing at how you felt, even through the rubber. “Baby, Christ,” he groaned as he worked himself inside of you, your nails digging into his shoulders, tracing the birthmark on his shoulder to distract yourself from the stretch. 

“I gotcha, just relax.” He kissed your jaw, nipping at it and running his tongue over his teeth marks. He bottomed out and he softly moaned your name as you moaned his name loudly, your back arching so you were chest to chest. His chest shuttered with his breathing as his Saint Christopher pendant landed perfectly in the valley of your breasts. “Move, B, please.” He placed his hands on both sides of your head as he began to thrust, the thrusts slow but deep as his hips hit yours, thighs slapping against your ass. 

“There you go, good girl for taking it all,” he said, smirk on his lips, remembering how you reacted to praise. You couldn’t reply, your senses were filled with Billy and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Billy looked down at you, your eyes hazy and he knew he had corrupted you as he gripped the bedsheets tighter and thrust harder, picking up speed and you moaned his name sweetly. 

“Billy, feels so good.” He smiled and ran his nose up your neck, placing his lips on your pulse, “Good, it’ll feel great in a few minutes,” he said before nipping at your pulse and sucking on it. Your hips tried to meet his and he put his hand on your hip and pinned it to the bed, “Uh uh, lemme do all the work.” You whined, “Wanna ride you.” He raised a brow before pulling you to his chest and he rolled over, almost hitting his head on his bedside table and you both quietly laughed, your lips centimeters apart. 

“Get to it then, bunny.” A shiver ran down your spine at the nickname and he placed his hands on your hips. You began to grind, his pubic hair on your clit, stimulating it slightly and he moaned, tightening his grip on you. “Wanna try and bounce for me? Promise it’ll feel good.” You nodded and put your hands on his pecs and before he could say something stupid you experimentally bounced and his head lolled back, “Fuck,” he let out breathlessly as you bounced, wiggling your hips as soon as your ass connected with his thighs. “Good girl, just like that. Fucking pro at this, cock-bunny.” Your eyes rolled back as your nails dug into his pecs, scratches arising on the skin as they became red and lifted from his skin. 

Your legs began to tire as Billy pulled you down to his chest before sitting up and moving to the edge of his bed, planting his feet on the floor before bouncing you on his lap. Sweat decorated you both, Billy’s hair was a frizzy mess, the strands everywhere. “Trust me?” You nodded as his thrusts knocked the air out of you. He held the back of your head before dipping you down so your back was on his thighs as he held your chin. “Open.” You furrowed your brow before opening your mouth and he held your jaw in his hand before spitting into your mouth and he squished your cheeks, “Mine now,” he said before bear hugging you as he thrust quickly, knocking your body up his chest as your grabbed his hair, not tugging and not holding too tightly. 

“Gonna come, please B.” He softly hushed you, “It’s okay, let go, babe. I got you, you’re okay.” You took your hands out of his hair and hugged him tightly before biting his shoulder as your high hit you, making your body tingle. He held you, helping you come down and you kissed his neck, nibbling his ear lobe, “Take the condom off.” He stilled, “You sure?” You nodded and he lifted you off of him for a mere second, taking the rubber off and dropping it into his trash can before you sank down onto him and you both moaned as you felt every detail of his cock and he felt you clench around him. 

He began to twitch, his arms bulging, his cock twitching gently, his balls constricting. “Where do I cum,: he asked breathlessly. “Inside, please.” He held your hips down, keeping a tight grip on them as he painted your walls, his head falling back, your name leaving his lips with curses following right after. He came down and caught his breath. “Wanna keep going?” You shook your head, “My legs hurt.” You both laughed and he helped you off of him, grabbing the tissues from beside a bottle of lotion as he cleaned you up. “Come on, I’ll help you to the bathroom so we can shower and then sleep.” You nodded and he helped you to his bathroom and left you to do your business and as soon as you finished he was back with towels and clothes. 

“Hot water okay?” You nodded, “Not scalding hot though.” He nodded and turned on the water and waited for it to heat up before you tested it with your hand before you both got into his shower as you washed each other, neither of you washing your hair, neither of you could be bothered with the task. Billy turned off the water after he washed the suds off of you and as soon as you were both dried off, the exhaustion hit you and you yawned and slumped against Billy and he softly laughed. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” You nodded and let him help you into the bed after he put the pillows back on it. He laid down and pulled you to his side, “Are you okay? Wasn’t too rough?” You shook your head, “I’m okay, tired but okay.” He nodded and kissed the top of your head, putting your head on his chest. “Go to sleep, I got you.” You nodded, kissing his chest before being lulled into a deep sleep as you listened to his heartbeat.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for going out for lunch without a friend?

Everyone here is 20F.

So my friend, who we'll call Sarah, recently got out of an abusive relationship. It was really bad. He was hyper controlling of her and really restricted her social circle. Since the relationship ended, she's been trying to get back out there.

I've been out with her as much as I possibly could have this summer. I work a lot but I've been making an effort to see her because I know she's been shut up away from people and I want to help her get her groove back.

We have another close friend (Issy) who hasn't seen her as much, but Issy regularly works 13 hour shifts and sometimes that is what it is when you're working in the service industry. Issy is also a really bad texter. She's not malicious she's just very forgetful.

Last week I ran into Issy by chance in town and we decided to go out for lunch. It was a spur of the moment decision. I wasn't thinking about Sarah tbh and we went out just Issy and me. While we were out, Issy's BeReal went off and she took a picture with the two of us and our lunch (I don't have BeReal but I don't mind being in other people's).

I didnt think about the situation again until I saw Sarah two days later. She was very upset that we had gone out without her and felt very abandoned. She was so upset that she'd dyed a strip of her hair green in the moment, which really concerned me because that's a very intense reaction to a lunch. I explained the situation but I don't think she believes me (?) She's acting like I conspired to leave her out and I truly didn't, I just ran into someone I know and went for lunch. I understand she's been through a lot though, and maybe I should have been more sensitive to that and told her we were going out? I feel really awful about it, but Issy says she's overreacting and we didn't do anything wrong.

What are these acronyms?

[hopepetal]

A bit of writing I've done for @tibby-art and I's au!! :D

Enjoy!

--

It wasn't often that Mumbo woke up in a featureless gray room– was it concrete? Probably, judging by how his back ached as he slowly pushed himself up off the hard floor, wincing at the pain that shot through his bruised body. It was too dark to really see anything, and although light seeped in through the cracks of an iron door, Mumbo found himself almost completely blinded.

He felt the floor around him, frowning as he noticed little bumps and grooves in the material. A little further back, Mumbo noticed as he turned around, was a chair. Probably wooden, but it was still too dark to make out the details. His eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, flitting around anxiously as his breathing began to pick up.

Okay, Mumbo, think. What happened? Why are you here?

“And for goodness sakes, where is my jacket?” he muttered out loud, after noticing he had lost the black coat that usually went over his white shirt. He felt cold without it, a little more bare– something that made him feel a little less secure.

He thought back to last night. How he had stepped outside briefly for something he couldn't quite recall at the moment. He had been well aware of the attacks happening around Boatem recently, but– oh. Of course. He'd been attacked. And, to top it all off, kidnapped. Apparently.

Mumbo could hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching from outside, freezing up as they got closer and closer. Whatever was happening, hopefully he was about to get a bit of a clue.

Or die. Which would suck, but hey, respawns.

The door opened up, and Mumbo stood– perhaps in a moment of adrenaline and courage stupidity– ready to face whoever was coming in through that door. A foe? A stranger, who didn't belong on hermitcraft? Or maybe a friend, and this was some kind of elaborate prank.

Mumbo blinked rapidly, trying to make out the person's face in the faint torchlight that seeped in from the hallway. His eyes lit up, and he heaved a great sigh of relief. “Oh, Scar! What are you doing here, mate? Or, I guess–” He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck– “What, exactly, am I doing here? Is this some– some sort of joke?” Laughter, again. This time more nervous, high-pitched. “Mate?”

Scar, silent as an oncoming storm, took a few steps forward. Mumbo, in his anxious haste, stumbled back and nearly tripped over his own feet. “Scar?” he asked again, his voice pitching higher, “Scar, mate, you're scaring me.”

Electric blue sparked in Scar's eyes as too-sharp teeth shone in the faint light. Surging forward, he practically pushed Mumbo into the chair, which creaked under the sudden weight. Mumbo let out a yelp as he crashed into the chair, staring up at Scar with wide and terrified eyes. For a moment, they remained like that– silent, eyes locked on each other's.

Then, Scar reached out and fluidly grabbed Mumbo's tie, pulling him a little closer as he leaned forward, crooked grin colder and sharper than ever before. “Oh, Mumbo, Mumbo, Mumbo...” he crooned, and Mumbo had to bite back a full-body shudder, “did you really think I'd let you get away with it? That I'd let you be CEO of boatem?” He chuckled, in a voice that was nothing like Scar. “You? In all your bumbling incompetency?”

Immediately, Mumbo knew something was wrong. Well, not just with Scar, that had been obvious– but that wasn't the reason this was happening. Mumbo wasn't really sure how he knew, but... he certainly did! Know, that is.

He had to get to the others. If he was in this situation, then it was more than likely that Pearl, Grian, and Impulse were as well. And none of them would do too well alone.

Well. Only one way out of this!

Mumbo kicked Scar in the shins, and ran for it while the man yelped and stumbled back. But... The kick hadn't been that hard, and Scar really shouldn't have taken that long to recover, and why wasn't he chasing after Mumbo why was he laughing–

Mumbo found out the reason for Scar's casual reaction very quickly, when he took one step out into the hallway and was slammed into the wall by a wave of magic.

“Oh, Mumbo...” There stood Cub, wearing a very familiar mask and the same grin as Scar, his eyes glowing bright blue from behind the mask. Faint blue wings shimmered behind him as he stepped forward. “Now, that wasn't a very good idea.”

[tinybookgirl]

Can You Forgive Me If You Don't Remember What I've Done?

This is actually one of the most difficult things I've ever written. It was supposed to be about both Martin and Timballisto but now it's really just about Timballisto and his trauma. This is also me experimenting with trying to make my prose more eloquent because I always feel like it's so plain and everything else I read is so beautiful. Unfortunately I could never in a million years matches Brian Jacques amazing style, so I can only hope I at least got the characterization correct. I find Martin very difficult to write but we've tried.

Timballisto had scars on his wrists. Thick bands of scar tissue wrapped all the way around, only now finally given the time to heal properly, but the chains had cut deep over the seasons. The fur had been scraped away, dug deep through his skin leaving heavy indents and even now it almost seemed as though the chains were still there.

He didn’t bother hiding them. Some of the slaves freed from the Bloodwake had left, rejoining the shrews or heading off to see what was left of their old homes, or maybe build themselves a new one. Still, many others had stayed with the woodlanders in Mossflower. Timballisto was far from the only creature in Brockhall to bear the scars.

Martin had scars on his wrists. Not so thick, not so deep. If he brushed his fur the right way he could almost hide them, the grooves where the fur would never grow back nearly disguised. Enough at least that one might not notice if they didn’t bother to look. 

Timballisto had seen them as Martin had pulled him onto the deck of the Bloodwake. What Timballisto had long suspected, but long since given up hope on getting an answer for, finally confirmed. 

They weren’t deep enough for Martin to have been a galley slave, Timballisto was certain of that. At least Martin had escaped that fate, suffered by Timballisto and the rest of their tribe. There was no doubt about it, though. Martin had been kept in chains.

*

It was nearly a week after waking, long after the battle with Tsarmina, that they realized she had left Martin with more than mere physical scars.

It was Timballisto who realized it. Martin was still confined to bed in Brocktall, no matter how much he insisted to Abbess Germaine and Columbine that he was more than fine. It only took a single glance to make it clear that was not true. Just sitting up in bed was an effort, the heavily bandaged wounds still prone to reopening and bleeding if he moved too much. Even simply being away too long was a chore.

Yet, Martin continued to insist that he was fine, repeating that he had been through worse. The statement made Gonff laugh, but filled Timballisto with nothing but guilt. 

Both Gonff and Timballisto were reluctant to leave Martin for long, the Abbess having had to force them out of the room more than once when she and Columbine needed to attend to him. For now though, Martin was awake, Timballisto seated on one of the chairs next to his bed while Gonff stood on the desk, in the middle of telling a rousing tale about one of his trips to the Kotir larders.

Timballisto laughed as Gonff pulled his cap low over his eyes, grabbing an old quill to mimic a sword.

“Martin,” Timballisto said, “do you remember, I think you were maybe four seasons or so? And Vurg and Twoola had-”

Martin frowned, “Who?”

Timballisto straightened instantly. “Vurg and Twoola?” He repeated, a note of desperation entering his voice. “They were in our tribe… Vurg was your father’s best friend. You… Martin do you really not remember them?”

Martin’s brow creased, struggling through the fog both the pain and the medicines left in his mind.

Something was wrong, Timballisto realized. There had been other things too, Timballisto remembered. Little things, things they had put off to nothing more than the coma, the injuries, the medicine. 

Martin staring at the Abbess for far too long before managing her name. Martin simply nodding and going along when Gonff mentioned parts of their adventure, adding no memory of his own to the tale.

When, three days ago, Martin had woken up and nearly panicked, unable to remember where he was at all.

This could be nothing more than that. He had lain at the gates of the Dark Forest, after all. Surely it was all normal? Surely, struggling with things as simple as names and places and events was normal after all Martin had just been through. 

Timballisto couldn’t shake the feeling that something much worse had happened to his friend.

Upon realizing they were no longer watching him, Gonff trailed off. He tilted his hat back onto his head to see them properly. “Everything alright, matey’s?”

Timballisto was staring at Martin. Martin glanced between the two of them.

“Yes,” Martin lied, “you- you said… you said Cludd almost spotted you?”

“Martin-” Timballisto said, but Martin cut him off.

“I’m fine,” Martin insisted. No one in the room, including Martin himself, looked convinced, but Gonff continued with his tale anyway.

*

The firelight was bright and warm, the shrew’s celebration in full swing for the return of those thought long lost, the former slaves of the Bloodwake.

It couldn’t last forever, of course. Martin still had a job to do, they were nowhere near Mossflower and still had days of travel ahead of them. They still have to defeat the wildcat Martin had told him about. For now though, Timballisto would allow himself to enjoy his newfound freedom as much as he could.

Timballisto joined Martin, leaning comfortably against a fallen log in front of one of the fires. Martin’s paws were running over the hilt of his new sword. Timballisto set a plate piled high with food between them. 

“I quite literally don’t think I’ve ever had food this good,” he said. They had always managed to keep the tribe above starving, even after Luke and his crew had left, even on the harsh coastline where so little. There had been enough to live on, but never enough to cook like this, never enough for as much as you really wanted.

“You’ll make yourself sick if you eat too much,” Martin said, choosing a chunk of cheese studded with nuts from the plate.

Martin had his sleeves pushed up against the warmth from the fire, and the scars on his wrists, the ones Timballisto had seen when Martin first pulled him from the galley, stood out stark. Timballisto picked up a scone that looked to be more fruit than bread, dripping with honey. “Good.”

Even as night was falling the festivities continued around them. Gonff was entertaining a group of shrewbabes with magic tricks, Dinny helping a shrew at one of the cooking fires. Even Log-a-log looked happy, holding tight onto the children whose lives he had missed out on so much of.

Something panged harshly inside Timballisto. He forced himself to finish the scone, pulling the last of the crumbs from his whiskers. Martin was right, it was making him sick.

“Martin, that wildcat you told us about,” Timballisto said, “you’re going to kill her.”

“Yes,” Martin said. He pulled the sword from its sheath. The firelight bounced off the blade, making it glimmer like pure gold. It was a far cry from the blade Timballisto remembered. Martin, only a few seasons younger than him, dragging the sword about wherever he went, always leaving a furrow in the sand from the end of the blade. It had rarely been hard to find out which tracks in the sand where Martin’s.

That had been sturdy sure, a good blade no doubt. But it had been old as well, and starting to show its age. This one… well, it was hard to imagine a blade more impressive. 

“Have you killed before?” Timballisto knew the answer before Martin said it. It was the way Martin carried himself now, the determination and strength that now sat behind his eyes. 

“Yes,” Martin didn’t look at him.

The silence stretched between them like a gorge. Martin sheathed his sword. Even tucked away, the pommel stone glinted.

“What happened?” Timballisto said. “When you- we looked, Martin. I swear, we tried, but-”

“I don’t want to talk about what happened to me,” Martin said, his tone leaving very little room for argument. Timballisto argued anyway.

“Luke left me in charge, Martin,” Timballisto begged. “Please, what happened?”

“I can’t talk about it, Timbal,” Martin said. He was staring into the fire, arms resting across his knees, the scars on his wrists still on full display. Timballisto couldn’t look away. He placed his paw over Martin’s wrist, Timballisto’s freshly bandaged by the hares from Salamandastron.

“Please.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Martin pulled his arm away, clasping his friend's paw in his own instead. He looked up. “We’re free now. Both of us.”

It wasn’t a lie, but Timballisto knew it wasn’t the full truth. Martin wouldn’t really be free until the wildcat was dead.

Timballisto didn’t feel freed either.

*

“Something is wrong with Martin,” Timballisto said.

Columbine looked up, busy grinding herbs for another set of medicines, not only for Martin but for those who still carried injuries from the battle. “What do you mean? I changed his bandages yesterday, he shouldn’t be bleeding again-”

“Something’s wrong with his mind,” Timballisto clarified. “His memories.”

Columbine frowned, setting the mortar and pestle aside. She wiped her paws on her apron. “Memory loss can be common after severe injuries, especially ones as bad as Martin’s. And the medicines we’ve been giving him for the pain sometimes cause the same issue. Usually they return in time.”

“And what happens when they don’t? What if something more than just memories is wrong, what if- what if Tsarmina clawed his brain or something?”

“I highly doubt she clawed his brain,” Columbine assured him. “As for the memories… I’ll have to ask the Abbess, she knows more about it than I do. What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Earlier today, I mentioned- something. Something from when we were children, but he didn’t remember it,” Timballisto said.

“Are you certain?” Columbine said, “All I mean,” she said, forstowing any argument on Timballisto’s part, “is that it would have been quite a long time ago. Are you sure this isn’t something that it would be normal for someone to forget?”

“The event itself, maybe,” Timballisto agreed, “but that would have been fine. He didn’t remember the others from our tribe that I mentioned either. And I know he would. Something is wrong.”

Columbine tilted her bowl of herbs into a small pot. “The Abbess is more adept with things like memory loss than I am. I’ll speak to her, see what she thinks we should do.”

Timballisto sighed, relieved, “That’s all I ask.”

*

Martin was no longer in danger of death, but he had yet to awaken, and Abbess Germaine had cautioned them all not to leave him alone in case he was to take a sudden turn for the worse. Timballisto had barely left his bedside since Martin had been moved into Brockhall. There was no telling when he might wake, and Timballisto had heard Abbess Germaine whispering of the chance that he never would.

He hoped desperately that she was wrong.

Martin was wrapped heavily in bandages and blankets. He had seized muttering in his sleep the way he had been in the beginning. If not for the bandages one could almost think that nothing was wrong with him at all.

“What happened to him?”

Timballisto looked up to see Gonff leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest.

“You saw the battle,” Timballisto said, “same as I did.”

“And,” Gonff pushed himself off the door lintel, leaning his paws on the back of one of the other chairs waiting empty by the bed, “I saw the lashes on his back.”

Timballisto looked away. They all had when his wounds were being dressed. None of them had said anything about it. There had been no point, Martin couldn’t answer their questions, not while still trapped at the gates of the Dark Forest.

“I don’t know what happened,” Timballisto said.

“Because Martin told me,” Gonff continued, swinging himself around to sit. “That he simply wandered down south on his own. Knew it was a lie the moment we shook paws, of course. Wandering doesn’t get you those,” he inclined his head to indicate the scars on Timballisto’s own wrists.

Timballisto crossed his arms. “I don’t know what happened,” he repeated. He was no longer sure if it would be better or worse to know. 

“If anyone knows, it’s you.”

“If Martin didn’t tell you, maybe he doesn’t want you to know,” Timballisto said. One could only just see Martin breathing, his chest rising and falling slowly under a mound of blankets. As long as he breathed, he was alive. As long as he breathed, maybe Timballisto hadn’t lost everything. 

Gonff didn’t answer. He simply sat there, watching Timballisto expectantly.

“He disappeared,” Timballisto said finally. “One day, Martin and his grandmother were both gone. The only other thing missing was Martin’s sword.” He shook his head. “We didn’t find them. We didn’t find where they might have gone,” he lied. He found himself unable to admit what had really happened, unable to place the blame where it truly belonged. “We just knew… they hadn’t left on their own. We knew they wouldn’t be coming back.”

Gonff studied him. Timballisto tried not to squirm under the mousethiefs gaze.

“That’s all?”

“That was the last I saw of him,” that at least, was the truth, “Until he pulled me from the Bloodwake.”

“He was a slave,” Gonff said.

Timballisto couldn’t look at Gonff, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Martin. “I know.”

Gonff braced his feet on the bed, tilting back on the legs of his chair. “Any warlords up north?”

Timballisto whipped his head around to glare at him. “Martin was my friend first. If I knew anything else I would tell you. I don’t. That was the last time I saw him, and he never told me more.”

Gonff’s chair landed heavily on the floor. “Then I suppose the only question left is for when he wakes up.”

“And what would that be?”

“Do we ask him?”

*

Brockhall was lovely. Timballisto couldn’t argue with that if he wanted to. It was warm and homey, the ceilings were high and the rooms were huge. The place had been built for badgers, after all. As winter approached the fireplaces were always lit, effectively blocking out any chill from Mossflower itself.

Timballisto didn't really… like it. Or, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. It was that being underground, without daylight, sometimes reminded him far too much of the searats galley.

Which was ridiculous, he knew it was. Brockhall was warm and comfortable, it was never stinking and stifling. He could go anywhere he wanted, never chained down. There was all the food he could eat from the kitchens, never starved and waiting for whatever scraps were thrown at them. It wasn’t the same at all.

It didn’t stop him from feeling as though the walls of Brockhall were closing in on him, that he might never be able to escape.

So, Brockhall was fine. It was. He simply would rather spend his time outside in Mossflower when he could. For the past few days, more often than not, that had meant aimlessly wandering. Sometimes gathering firewood or helping with foraging parties or whatever other work needed to be done. Mostly, however, it meant trying to avoid thinking about the fact that he had done nothing but avoid Martin for days.

Abbess Germaine and Columbine had confirmed it. A large portion of Martin’s memories were lost, the longer ago the more that was missing. Anything before his arrival in Mossflower was nothing more than a blur.

Timballisto hated being right.

He was chopping wood alone, more for something to do than any actual need for it, when he heard footsteps. It hadn’t begun to snow yet, but a thin layer of frost still lay across the woods. It cracked under Martin’s paws as he approached, wrapped in cloaks and leaning heavily on a wooden crutch.

“Need some help?”

Timballisto split one more log, looking at Martin only long enough to confirm it was him. “Are you allowed out?”

“Under supervision,” Martin nodded towards Gonff, watching them from just out of earshot.

“I think,” Timballisto said, struggling to sound as though nothing was wrong, “The Abbess would have my hide if I handed you an axe.”

Martin laughed, wincing as he slowly sat himself down on a nearby tree stump. He rested the crutch next to himself. “I’ve been trying to talk with you.”

They hadn’t been alone since the extent of Martin’s memory loss had become clear. Although, Timballisto wasn’t sure they had been alone since that first night after the Bloodwake had been taken. At least, not while Martin was awake. 

Timballisto stared at the axe in his paws to avoid turning to look at Martin. Finally he spoke. “Do you remember me?”

“I know you,” Martin said.

“But you don’t remember me.”

“No,” Martin admitted. “I remember rescuing you from the…” he faltered, “... from the ship. But nothing before that.”

Timballisto nodded. He grabbed another log, splitting it in half with one strike. One thing being an oar slave left you with, even with the starvation, was plenty of arm strength. “You don’t remember anything about our tribe? Our home?”

“I know… I know you,” Martin repeated. “I know my father’s name. I know my sword was his. But, it’s not like remembering. It’s simply knowing. Germaine said some things will be like that. The same way you know how to breathe or walk or speak.”

“So what do you remember?”

“It’s all jumbled. Germaine thinks the things that I do remember will become clearer over time, though perhaps not perfect. Especially if someone else can tell me about them.”

“Except,” Timballisto said, filling in the unspoken implication, “that’s for the things you can remember. What about the things you can’t?”

“Germaine think’s they’ll stay that way.”

“So,” he was out of logs to chop. He picked up one that had already been split and split it again, “even if I tell you everything I know, everything I remember, you still won’t remember it.”

Martin didn’t answer. Timballisto dumped the axe by the woodpile. “I’m going back to Brockhall.”

Martin grabbed his crutch, getting stiffly to his feet with no small effort. “Are you angry with me?”

“No!” Timballisto hadn’t looked at him since Martin had first sat down, and he didn’t look at him now. “I’m not angry at you.” His paws had curled into fists.

“What did I do?” Martin said. “If I did something- I don’t remember-”

“That’s the problem!” Timballisto snapped, finally turning to face his friend. “You don’t remember! Finding you again- seeing you alive- you rescuing me was like a dream. I had…” he shook his head, struggling for anything at all. “You were here! You were alive and- and I- and you could- I had you! I had- I could tell you- I had you and now you’re gone again!

Martin’s face turned to stone. “You think I’m not myself anymore?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

“I can’t talk about this,” Timballisto turned away. “You should know what that’s like.” That was cruel and he knew it. “I’m going back to Brockhall.”

Martin didn’t follow him. Timballisto wished that he would.

*

Timballisto ducked into the central cave. 

“Windered, I was hoping you-” he frowned. It was empty. Odd since Windered was usually there preparing for dinner by now. It was normal for her to be alone in the cave, getting a start before the rest of the tribe, but it was strange for no one to be here at all.

Maybe she had simply been caught up in doing something else. Surely, that was why the cave in question was empty, the fire put out and the ashes long gone cold.

Timballisto let the curtain fall back over the entrance. “Twoola!” He called, spotting the old mouse tottering along the sand. “Have you seen Windred?”

“Not since this morning,” Twoola said, pausing. “She’s not in there?”

“I’m- I’m sure she’s fine. I was just going to- you know, it’s not important anyway.”

Twoola raised an eyebrow but nodded, returning to his walk. Timballisto scanned the beach. A few were tending to the struggling crops up on the clifftops. Two mice were busy repairing one of the curtains used to hide the cave entrances. Another group was braving the cold shallows, gathering mussels and shellfish and whatever else they could find.

Windred was nowhere to be seen. Even more alarming, Timballisto realized, neither was Martin.

Trying very hard to not run, Luke had placed him in charge, it wouldn’t do to look distressed, Timballisto made his way to the smallest of the caves.

It had lain mostly empty since Luke and others had left. More than enough weapons had been prepared in case they were needed, so there was no need to spend time in there making more. There was plenty of more important work that needed to be done.

The firepit in the center was cleaned out, stacks of javelins, bows, and arrows all lined up neatly along the walls. It wasn’t uncommon to find Martin in here, swinging Luke’s sword about where Windred wouldn’t find him and tell him off for nearly taking some beast’s eye out.

Except Martin wasn’t here.

When had he seen Windred last? This morning for certain. She had insisted he actually sit down for breakfast and he had brushed her off. There was too much to get done. He remembered grabbing a slice of bread and heading out as quickly as he could. He remembered Martin running out after him. He had brushed Martin off too.

“I don’t have time to play warriors with you, Martin.”

“I don’t want to play warriors, I want to help!”

Timballisto had stopped, looking down at Martin. Timballisto had his growth spurt last summer and was now over a head taller than Martin. Martin, however, was still young, Luke’s sword at his side, creating a furrow as the tip dragged across the sand behind him.

“You’re too little Martin,” Timballisto told him. “Go ask your grandmother.”

“You’re not that much older than me!”

“No, but Luke put me in charge. If you want to help, I’m sure Windred has something you can do.”

Martin kicked at a stone, skidding it towards the waves. “I can do more! When my father comes back I need to show him-”

“Luke’s not coming back, Martin,” Timballisto said harshly. Martin was the only one still under the impression that he would. Everyone had known the moment the Sanya sailed past the horizon. They wouldn’t be seeing it again. There was no point in wasting time thinking about what would happen if it ever returned. 

Martin’s face fell. Timballisto sighed. “I’ll figure out something you can do tomorrow, okay? I have to go, we’re running out of firewood and I need to make sure we have enough for the next few days.”

*

The Brockhall kitchen was empty except for a young mousemaid, another of the rescued slaves from the Bloodwake. Timballisto found Lissy busy chopping fruit for a pie filling, the counters coated in a thin layer of flour and fruit juice from her work. The kitchen already smelled heavenly.

Lissy smiled at him as he entered, her face stretched out and lopsided from the thick scar that stretched across it. An old result of a searats rapier, Timballisto had been there when it happened. It was nearly a miracle she had even survived it, trapped as they were with no possible medical care aside from rinsing it in seawater when they could.

“It’s nice to see you inside for once,” she said, still chopping away.

Timballisto sat across from her, snatching a slice of apricot. She swatted his paw away playfully.

“I’m inside plenty,” Timballisto said. “What are you making? It smells delicious.”

“Apricot and plum pie now,” Lissy nodded towards the oven, “but I have a nut loaf baking as well. And I might make biscuits.”

Lissy had a clean white bandage around one of her wrists. She had been scratching at her scars again. Timballisto had seen her when she was distressed, trapped too deep in horrific memories. Clawing might be a far more accurate description.

“Lissy,” Timballisto said, “are you feeling alright?”

She paused, the knife trembling in her paw. She returned to work with more force than strictly necessary. “I’m fine. What about you?”

Timballisto leaned back. “I don’t know. It’s… Martin. He’s lost a lot of his memories,” Timballisto said. He stole another apricot.

“I heard,” Lissy set the knife aside, sweeping the fruit into a bowl. “But the Abbess said it should get better, shouldn’t it?”

“No, yes. More recent memories, yes. The older things are going to be harder. She thinks…” he shook his head. “Most of before he came to Mossflower is gone. It’s unlikely it will come back.”

Lissy had started rolling out her pie dough. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding him?”

“I have not been avoiding him!”

“Yes,” Lissy said, “you have. Before he woke up you were with him all the time, by his side all hours of the day. And now it’s been days since you’ve even seen him.”

Timballisto was silent for a long time. Lissy didn’t push him. He watched her rolling out her dough, adding her filling, and carefully cutting out shapes for a decorative crust on top. It was only when she slid it into the oven, taking the nut loaf out in return that he finally spoke up again.

“He doesn’t remember me,” Timballisto said. “He doesn’t remember our home, or our tribe, or- or anything. He doesn’t know that…”

Lissy sat next to him, “Know what?”

“That..” Timballisto couldn’t look at her, “He doesn’t know that what happened to him is my fault.” He leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling, the twisting roots that formed the roof. “What would you do, if you met someone from home again? What would you do if you’re responsible for something horrible happening to someone, but they don’t remember it? They don’t know… they don’t know that they shouldn’t be acting as though nothing is wrong because everything is wrong?”

“I think those are two separate questions.”

“Fine,” Timballisto rephrased, “what… what if you met your brother again? The one who sold you to the searats? But he didn’t remember what he did and expected everything to be the same as it was before?”

It was Lissy’s turn to be silent. She quickly stood, grabbing a fresh bowl and a fresh sack of flour.

“I’m sorry,” Timballisto stood up as well, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset, Tim,” Lissy assured him. “I’ve just… I have been thinking about it. My brother. A lot lately. And what I would do if I did see him again.” She looked up, locking eyes with Timballisto. “I think I would take the nearest weapon and kill him with it. But what happened to me and my brother is not the same as what happened with you and Martin.”

“You don’t know what happened with me and Martin.”

“I don’t know Martin well,” Lissy agreed, “but I do know you. My brother was only thinking of himself, and didn’t care what happened to me. He was selfish and cruel and he had been that way our whole lives. But you? Timballisto, you are one of the best creatures I have ever met. And you can’t make me believe that you ever, in a million seasons, would hurt Martin on purpose.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Timballisto said. “I would never have done that on purpose.”

“So what did you do?”

Timballisto sunk back into his seat. “Nothing. I did nothing.”

*

There wasn’t enough of the tribe left to risk sending out anymore than one search party, just Timballisto and two others.

The tracks ended where sand became stone. They scoured the rocky coast for anything that pointed towards Martin and Windred. The light was dimming quickly, but they were reluctant to light tortures. If someone had captured them, they didn’t want to bring attention to themselves in return, and by extension the rest of the tribe. Over the seasons they had all learned the dangers of the northern coast far too well. They knew better than to risk shouting either. The only remaining option was to hope they could be spotted.

“Timballisto,” Caitir, one of the searchers, a bowl and arrow slung over her shoulders, motioned him over to where she and Resta were ducked down behind a ridge. “You’ll want to see this.”

Timballisto was instantly on alert. Caitir pulled him down next to them, pointing towards the beach. “Look.”

It was a ship. Crashed onto the rocks, smashed far beyond repair. It hadn’t been there long Timballisto was certain of. At the very least it hadn’t been there the last time a foraging party had gone this way.

Even from here, Timballisto could see what Caitir and Resta had truly been concerned about. It was a galley ship, the oars smashed and tossed aside on the rocks, the rusted chains still attached to them glinting red and orange in the light of the sunset.

“We have to go-” Timballisto tried to stand, only to instantly be pulled back down by Resta.

“We can’t,” Resta said.

“Martin and Windred only disappeared this morning, they can’t be far,” Timballisto snatched his arm from her grasp. “A crew like that can’t move fast, we can catch up with them and-”

“And what?” Caitir said. “You know very well the three of us cannot take on a whole crew of searats.”

“We need to get back the caves,” Resta said. “They may be coming this way next.”

“You want to just leave them?” Timballisto couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice. It wasn’t very becoming of someone who was supposed to be in charge. He struggled to regain a semblance of command. “If they have Martin and Windred-”

“If,” Caitir shook her head. “Even with the whole tribe we couldn’t fight them. Timballisto, you know we’re right.”

“Luke left me in charge!” Timballisto snapped. “Not you! We can’t just leave them captured- or worse-”

“Luke left you in charge,” Resta said, “Because he trusted you to do what is best for the entire tribe. And you know what that is.”

He didn’t want it to be. Timballisto looked back to the ship. It was large, perhaps not the size of the red ship that had terrorized them so long ago, but still far larger than the Sanya had been.

Even if every member of the tribe could fight, which was far from being the case, there was no guarantee they would be successful. Resta and Caitir were both right, and Timballisto knew it.

Timballisto sunk down behind the ridge, his eyes closed. Resta and Caitir were watching him. 

Maybe they didn’t need to take on the whole crew? If all they needed was Martin and Windred they could sneak into the corsair camp once night fell and simply grab the two of them and get out before anyone even noticed they were gone? But surely they had other creatures enslaved as well and it would take more than three of them to get them all? Did they have time to go back to the tribe and gather everyone who could fight? What if the corsairs didn’t even stop for the night? What if there were more guards than expected? Even if they got Martin and Windred out, what if the corsairs tracked them back to the caves? What if they got themselves captured as well? Resta and Caitir both had children waiting back with the tribe, could he risk leaving those children orphans?

Timballisto wasn’t Luke. Resta and Caitir would not follow his decision simply because he was the one to give the order. If Timballisto was to make a decision, it had to be the right one.

Two creatures weren’t worth the whole tribe.

Oh how he wished they were.

“He’s Luke’s son.”

“Then,” Caitir said, “it’s a good thing Luke will never know.”

Timballisto opened his eyes, taking one last look at the crashed ship. “We’re going back. We’ll disguise the caves, wait a few days to make sure no one comes back this way.”

He had to protect the rest of the tribe, didn’t he? Even if it meant leaving some of them behind?

*

"Why are you avoiding Martin?”

Timballisto looked up to see Gonff, leaning casually against one of the nearby beds. Of course the mousethief had been certain to corner him in one of the Brockhall dorms, when there was no one else was around, and Timballisto was standing too far from the door to make a quick and easy escape. Gonff was far more clever than some would give him credit for.

“Will everyone stop saying that?”

“Maybe when it stops being true,” Gonff laid back on the nearest bed, his paws behind his head, his eyes closed, the picture of relaxation. Anyone would think he wasn’t even listening. But Timballisto knew better than to think he would be leaving this conversation without an answer.

“So,” Gonff said, “why are you avoiding Martin?”

“He nearly died,” Timballisto said, “and yet I’m the one he’s worried about.”

“That’s Martin for you,” Gonff cracked open one eye. “Germaine put him back on bedrest, so he doesn’t have a lot else to do. And you won’t visit him.”

Timballisto crossed his arms. There had to be some way to get Gonff to leave. “I’m not angry at Martin.”

“Good. So why are you avoiding him?”

The silence stretched on. Timballisto uncrossed his arms, only to cross them again a moment later. “If I tell you I have something very important to do, can I leave?”

“No.”

“If I tell you I’m going to visit Martin, can I leave?”

“Of course, but I’m walkin’ there with you.”

There was more silence. Finally Timballisto, deciding his options were either run for the door at breakneck speed or attempt to form an answer, he attempted to form an answer. “He doesn’t remember.”

“So? That means you aren’t mates anymore?”

“No!” Timballisto shook his head. “It’s not about him. It’s- it’s about me.” Timballisto sat heavily on one of the beds. “I can’t see him.”

Gonff rolled onto his side, propping his head up on one paw. “Go on.”

There was another very long silence, made worse by the fact that Gonff was now actually looking at him, instead of his previously feigned disinterest.

“It’s my fault,” Timballisto said finally. “I’m the reason Martin disappeared.”

Gonff sat up like a bolt, any and all traces of civility gone. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t hurt him!” Timballisto clarified quickly. “Not on purpose or anything. But… when Martin’s father left, he put me in charge of the tribe. I should have been watching him or- I was in charge. And when Martin and his grandmother disappeared… I called off the search. If I had kept going- maybe we could have gotten him back. Maybe we could have-” Maybe he could have saved Martin. Maybe if he had been able to save Martin he would have known how to save the rest of the tribe as well.

Martin and Windred had been his first failure in leading the tribe, but they had been far from his last.

“How long ago was this?” Gonff interrupted. 

“What? Um, I don’t know.” Timballisto had long since lost track of how many seasons had passed while on the Bloodwake. “A while ago?”

“So, how old were you when you got left in charge?”

“Uh,” Timballisto shook his head. “Ten or eleven seasons maybe? I’m not sure.”

“You were ten seasons old,” Gonff said, taking the more generous estimate, “and you were put in charge of the entire tribe?”

“Luke took everyone who was old enough to fight with him,” Timballisto explained. “And it wasn’t a very large tribe, so there weren’t too many of us left. We didn’t have enough to go after Martin-”

Gonff held up a paw. “There was no one else who could have been in charge?”

“I suppose there was,” Anyone would have been a better choice than him, Timballisto thought now. They would have known what to do when Martin and Windred had left. They would have known what to do when that winter Timballisto hadn’t planned the crops out right and they got hit by an early frost so there wasn’t enough food to go around. They would have known what to do when the searats landed on their shores and tore down every defense they had ever made. “But it doesn’t matter. Luke chose me. I was responsible and I let Martin disappear, I let him get captured, and- and then I let the entire tribe get captured and I couldn’t do anything to stop it!”

 Timballisto leapt to his feet. “It was my tribe! They were my creatures and I let all of them down and now Martin is-” his rant began to falter, the anger that had been in his voice a moment ago fading, “If I had Martin again, maybe I hadn’t failed. Maybe I could fix it. At least… at least I wouldn’t have failed all of them. Except I don’t have Martin anymore.”

“You want Martin to forgive you.”

Timballisto sunk back to the bed. “I was supposed to protect him,” Timballisto said softly. “And I failed. I failed Martin, and his grandmother, and Luke, and the entire tribe. How can I-  how can I be around Martin- how can he be around me if he doesn’t know? If I can’t… if I can’t apologize?”

It seemed like a pathetically small gesture, but what else was there to do? He couldn’t change whatever it was that had happened to Martin. He couldn’t change what the rest of the tribe had suffered. If he could apologize, if Martin could forgive him then… well, then maybe he could at least live with himself. Maybe he could at least look Martin in the eyes without thinking of all the ways he had failed.

Gonff leaned forwards. His expression, for once, was solemn. “Martin doesn’t blame you. With or without his memories.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know Martin,” Gonff pushed himself to his feet. “You won’t believe it from me though. So, go talk to Martin.”

*

It took another day before Timballisto actually managed to work up the courage to visit him. But he couldn’t avoid Martin forever. Maybe he could?

No, he couldn’t. Not unless he was willing to leave Mossflower and somehow that felt like a worse option.

Martin was awake when Timballisto arrived. He was propped up in bed, sketching something out on a parchment alongside Abbess Germaine. Martin looked up, setting aside the parchment the moment he noticed Timballisto.

“Tim!”

“Can I speak with you? Alone, if that’s alright, Abbess?” Timballisto asked. He had one paw clinging to the doorframe. He could still leave. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to know the answer. Gonff had told him not to worry, sure, but the worst outcome wouldn’t leave Timballisto’s mind. 

What if Martin didn’t forgive him?

Abbess Germaine stood, looking to Martin, who nodded. 

“I’ll be back later,” Abbess Germaine smiled, patting Timballisto on the shoulder as she left. Timballisto only just managed to free his paw from the lintel as the door clicked shut behind her. He didn’t move any closer to Martin’s bed. He wasn’t sure he could say it if he did.

The second between the door closing Martin speaking felt as though it lasted an eternity. Martin looked incredibly young. He was strong and hardened and grown now, still heavily bandaged, but propped up under pillows and blankets, with the parchment and charcoal staining his paws Timballisto couldn’t help but think of Martin when they were children, before everything had gone wrong.

Timballisto supposed he himself had been a child too, but it had never felt that way. You were always old, you were never a child, and those younger than you were always children.

Martin hefted himself into a slightly more upright position, “Timbal-”

“Stop,” Timballisto said quickly. If he didn’t say it now, he wasn’t sure he ever would, “I need to go first.” He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. I’m not upset that you can’t remember our past. Well,  I am, a little, but it’s not you I’m upset with. It’s… I need to tell you, because you don’t remember, but I can’t keep going around like everything is normal when-” he was rambling now, Timballisto knew he couldn’t allow himself to stop, “I tried to talk to you about it, after the Bloodwake, but you didn’t want to talk about it, so I assumed that was fine, you had a lot happening, we can talk about it later, but then you were injured and there wasn’t a later because you were injured and when you woke up- there wasn’t a later anymore.

“It’s my fault,” Timballisto said, speaking so quickly the worse almost ran together. The space between the bed and the door may as well have been miles between them. “Whatever happened to you between when you disappeared from the tribe and when you arrived in Mossflower. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, and I know that saying I’m sorry doesn’t do anything, I-”

Martin just shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is,” Timballisto insisted. “Luke left me in charge. It was my choice not to keep looking for you and your grandmother. I was in charge, and I let you disappear. I let you get taken.”

“Whatever happened to me,” Martin said, “is not your fault.”

“How can you say that if you don’t remember?”

Martin didn’t answer at first. He was looking down at his wrists, running one of his paws over the other ones. “I’ve been trying to remember. I can’t.” He looked up, “I never told you what happened to me?”

“No,” Timballisto said. “I tried to ask. You said you couldn’t speak about it.”

Martin nodded. He paw continued to hold at his wrist. It was one of the few wounds on his body that wasn’t currently wrapped in bandages. It didn’t need to be. Unlike so many of the others, these were long scarred over.

“I know you,” Martin said. “I know how I felt when I saw you on the Bloodwake. I remember that I had never thought I would see you again. I…” Martin frowned, his brow furrowed, struggling to sort through whatever memories remained. “Whatever may have happened to me, I never blamed you for it.”

Slowly Timballisto stepped across the room, sinking into the chair by Martin’s bed. The first few days after the battle the chair had never been empty. Either Timballisto or Gonff had been seated in it more often than not. The few times they were kicked out, to eat or bathe, or to simply not be in the way while his bandages were changed, Columbine or Abbess Germaine had taken their place instead.

“It’s not just you,” Timballisto wiped tears from his cheeks. He wasn't sure when he had started crying. “The rest of our tribe is lost because of me. I failed you, and I failed them. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t… I shouldn’t have been in charge.”

He shouldn’t have been in charge, Timballisto realized for perhaps the first time. There had been others more adept at leading the tribe. Windred, Caitir, even Twoola. Anyone who had more life experience than a ten season old orphan who was only alive because he was good at rock climbing. 

Luke had made a terrible choice in who he left behind.

“No,” Martin took Timballisto’s paw. “What happened to me is not your fault, nor is what happened to the rest of the tribe. The only creatures to blame are the vermin who cares nothing for the lives of other beasts. Gonff told me you want me to forgive you.”

Timballisto let out a choked laugh, his throat thick with tears. “Of course he told you. Hold on, did you tell him to talk to me?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me!” Martin laughed, he had tears in his eyes as well, “And Germaine wouldn’t let me out again. But all he said was that you were worried I was the one angry with you. Timbal, I can’t forgive you because there is nothing to forgive.”

More tears poured down his cheeks. A weight he had never even realized was there had been pulled from his shoulders. Timballisto clutched Martin’s paw tighter. “Our entire tribe, Martin. And we’re all that’s left of it.”

Martin didn’t let go of him. He moved the parchment he had been working on back onto his lap. It was blueprints for a castle or fortress of some sort. “Then we can make certain that what happened to our old tribe cannot and will not happen to our new one.”