#I've met all sorts of people in this community

[northopalshore]

Hii💝💝

I'm curious, based of your experience, what is your first impression of each rising sign ??

♀Hello 🌝

Personal experiences with the rising signs

Note that these do not reflect the entirety of those with the rising signs mentioned, these are just my personal opinions of people I've met in real life with these placements.

๑ஓ Aries risings:

All the aries risings I've met up to this point are very direct. They look like they bite but really don't. Also, a lot of them kind of look & act like a dumbass (in the best way possible). The edge lords with no filter, no patience, no tolerance, but most of all no bullshit.

If they call you an ass that's a term of endearment lmao. Sarcasm is their love language, jokes and wit are their strong suits. They're the ones that will debate you just for fun (the guys especially).

Intense, passionate and lively. They always look mad for some reason but they swear they aren't. It's like their eyebrows are just angled that way naturally. I love being around them though. It's always refreshing.

First impression in a single sentence: Annoyingly charming.

๑ஓ Taurus risings:

Literally the most patient and chill people I've ever met. Super friendly, slightly dorky. Perhaps it's because I have Taurus in my 3rd house, but I'm usually at ease around them. Although, sometimes it's rather awkward when we run out of things to say lol.

I'd say they are the goofiest people I've ever met.

First impression in a single sentence: Fun but kind of awkward.

๑ஓ Gemini risings:

Very talkative. Very friendly. Always seem to have some sort of new gossip or topic to think about. They do tend to be a bit two-faced at times especially when it involves gossiping, however I've noticed that if they have sun or moon here they are rather passive aggressive. By that I mean they don't "split faces" or pretend to like something as much compared to those without it. How do I say it .. they have more integrity?

It's not like all the gossip is bad, sometimes they comment on the right stuff but just hide their distaste rather than facing any sort of confrontation.

Maybe it's because my 4th house is Gemini, but I sort of have a hit or miss relationship with Gemini Suns & risings. They tend to "mother" me quite often. Perhaps they remind me of some traits my mother has? Both good & bad. I tend to have a love hate relationship with them for some reason, but I don't dislike Gemini.

There's sometimes this codependent feel whenever I'm around them. But Gemini moons? Those are my bffs lmaoo.

First impression in a single sentence: Gretchen Wieners

๑ஓ Cancer risings:

The sweetest most genuine people I've ever met, regardless of their gender. They are always honest with what they're trying to communicate. (Although most cancer risings I know have either sun or moon in the first house)

Note: I'm realising now I know quite a handful of people with sun/moon in their 1st house.

First impression in a single sentence: "I can't believe people like you still exist."

๑ஓ Leo risings:

Omg. They are super friendly & very caring. They definitely are divas in their own right. Very expressive especially when it comes to their makeup or looks. They love accessories, and outfits that stand out.

I have a leo rising friend with moon & jupiter in her 1st house. Girl, lemme tell you she is extra. Contact lenses, head accessories, heels, the works. She's very confident of herself as well. Posting videos & photos of herself often.

There is a bit of a temper but it's not that prominent & doesn't really last long either. Still, I've never met a single Leo rising that is selfish. Self obsessed yes, but not without the heart to match.

First impression in a single sentence: The bigger the hair the bigger the heart.

๑ஓ Virgo risings:

Edge lord II. There are three types of virgo rising that I usually meet. The self deprecating, the self obsessed perfectionist & the one in the middle.

On one hand, they are a super deadpan, no bullshit typa person then on the other, they are extremely self focused and sensitive towards judgement but super judgemental themselves. Then on the otherr other hand, they couldn't care less about what you think.

Very analytical, as you'd expect from Virgos. I always notice them looking around or at me trying to evaluate their surroundings lol. I appreciate their sense of thoughtfulness.

If they're nice, they're really nice but if they're immature or have issues with confidence or control especially then it's very evident. Still, I don't dislike them by any means. Virgo is my descendant I guess I'm a sucker for an edge lord lmaoo. Maybe that's why I keep marrying Sebastian in Stardew Valley.

First impression in one sentence: Okay Sasha Fierce/ 'cause tonight will be the night that I will fall ferr yeww ovar againn— ♪

๑ஓ Libra risings:

They are usually very sweet & open to communication. The ones I've met in real life are very intuitive, or at least are somewhat of a deep thinker. However, some of them tend to judge things based on looks quite fast lol. Other than that though, they usually have very good (fair) judgement & good values.

They are usually very pretty (conventionally attractive). With symmetrical oval shaped faces and a gorgeous resting face. They just look like an ad.

However, I have a housemate with a libra rising & aquarius degree and she's.. well you wouldn't expect her to be a Libra rising based on her looks. It's not like she's ugly, no. Her features just differ from what you'd expect from a Libra rising.

Also, she tends to be rather biased at times. Saying that one thing is bad, but she acts on something else which isn't "applaudable" by any means.

First impression in a single sentence: Clueless' Cher meets Karen Smith

๑ஓ Scorpio risings:

These are the asian baby girls or "goth chicks". Their favourite colour is usually black or purple. Normally I see them with tattoos or dyed hair. These are my people though, they are very inquisitive. A lot of the scorpio risings I know like to ask questions. Sometimes very.. strange or intense questions.

I love how genuine they are to themselves however, speaking their mind and expressing their feelings through their expressions. Some of them tend to be... Reclusive? They see themselves as this dark entity, either too smart for the others to comprehend or dismissive of what people have to say about them.

Although, I've never met a scorpio rising who isn't slightly obsessed with themselves lmao.

First impressions in a single sentence: I bet they listen to Mitski & Lana Del Rey.

๑ஓ Sagittarius risings:

I feel like people tend to sleep on how attractive Sagittarius risings are. Like, they're giving face, body, curves and everything in between. I have an older friend (27-28) and she's just so pretty. Especially when she smiles. Ngl but I did side eye her man a couple times during their wedding.

Usually very active outdoors as well.

Most of the guys I've met with this placement are rather religious. Like, the type to debate over it. The men are quite preachy (at least the ones I've met are). Most of them are reliable and fun to be around. Certified yappers.

First impression in a single sentence: The bigger the brain the hotter the person, I just hope they don't get too big now.

๑ஓ Capricorn risings:

Usually, the people I met with this placement give a pretty cold attitude towards the things around them. Their muscles on their faces are usually tense or there's this resting b face there. Sometimes they look like they're in a hurry to do something but you see them doing nothing in particular after lol.

They look like they've got shit to do & their lives together. Either that or they look rather unmotivated lmao. When you're talking for the first few times, there's usually no expression on their face. They'll just blink every now & then.

They are competitive too which is something you'd normally expect from an Aries more than anything.

First impression in a single sentence: "They are so practical."

๑ஓ Aquarius risings:

Weirdest mfs alive. Both male & female. Also tend to be the loudest (but differs depending on the degree it's in), though still charming in a way. They tend to be very chill and always down to hang with whoever. Usually always laughing at their own jokes or something they thought of randomly. They tend to be very intuitive, although it manifests differently with every aquarius rising I've met (whether their focus is on society or themselves). There's this tunnel vision aspect as well. They are genuine to a fault lol. The ones I've met personally are a little wild or quirky, always doing their own thing.

Very opinionated usually. Always trying to look at the big picture.

First impression in a single sentence: "I mean, if it works for you great."

๑ஓ Pisces risings:

They are a little erratic, a little strange and other worldly in a way. When you look at them, at times you'll notice that they aren't really there. Their interests are always different from the people around them.

Some of them tend to have this victim mentality to them, but I think it's just because most of the ones I met were when I was younger. They're probably just as immature as other kids at the time.

Very spiritual regardless if they follow any specific religion or not, I've never met a pisces rising (or w the degree) that isn't open to the idea of a higher power or karmic cycles. This seems to be true especially as they grow older. They also always have some sort of connection to music.

First impression in a single sentence: "I wonder if their mind is at Jupiter right now"

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

***entertainment purposes only, reader discretion is advised***

Hope this was entertaining ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ◜⁠✧

@northopalshore

[blackcatxmagic]

Copper hoped that he hadn’t overstepped with Dorothy. After all, he barely knew her, and here he was asking her about her private feelings. But it went against Copper’s nature to ignore someone who was upset, and that was especially true when it was someone he knew, no matter how minimally that may be. Luckily it didn’t seem as though Dorothy was offended. On the contrary, Copper felt like maybe she wanted to talk about it. Nodding, he agreed, “Yeah, and then when those days just keep coming, then everything starts to bleed together; everyday starts to feel the same, and soon you’re not just having a string of bad days. That’s just your life.” For a moment after saying this, Copper just sat there lost in thought; he knew very well what that was like. But then he snapped out of it, saying, “Wow, sorry, I made that really dark, didn’t I?” Copper wasn’t sure how much Dorothy knew about what he’d gone through, but he wasn’t about to bring it up now.

Copper understood what Dorothy met. “Once when I was in college, this guy I sort of knew died. He was gay too, and even though we didn’t know each other that well, when he died, it kind of hit me hard. I think it’s because it already feels like our community - whether it be the gay community, the witch community, or anything else like that - already feels so small, and then it just gets a little smaller when things like this happen.” So yeah, Copper understood exactly what Dorothy meant. 

He hadn’t been sure if Dorothy would know what he was getting at, but at her question, he exclaimed, “Yes!” and smacked his hand against the table. A few people around them looked over in surprise, and Copper mumbled a quick apology to them before turning his attention back to Dorothy, speaking at a normal volume now. "It changed for me too," Copper said quietly. "One minute it was the article about Avalon, and then next..." He trailed off; the memory alone was enough to cause his heart rate to increase, vision suddenly a little blurry as he remembered how he had felt. "Sorry," Copper apologized a moment later once he had himself back under control. "Anyway, the next minute it turned to a picture of me, but like...this grotesque version of me. And the article title became 'we know what you're hiding.' I...didn't handle that well." Copper remembered how he had had to call Aris just to calm down; he didn't know what he'd do without his brother. "Is that what happened to you too?" Copper asked Dorothy.

Dorothy's words felt heavy, ominous even, and Copper shuddered because he agreed. "Yes," he answered simply, his voice quiet, like saying it too loudly would make it too real. "I've thought that ever since that weird storm," he went on. "I had a horrific nightmare that night, and I...I haven't felt right since. Since then, I feel like something is getting closer. It's like I can see it at a distance, and it's becoming clearer with each step in our direction. And though I can't tell what it is, I just know that it's not good."

Dorothy sat quietly for a moment, her gaze flickering over Copper's words as she processed them. His understanding, his empathy - it was something she hadn't expected, but that she was grateful for. There was a gentle sincerity in his voice that made it feel like he wasn't just passing the time with small talk. He got it. And that made her feel a little less alone in her frustration. "Yeah, it’s…" Dorothy sighed, shaking her head as she felt completely speechless for a moment. The warmth of his understanding was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to calm the storm swirling inside her. "It’s hard," she agreed, her voice quiet but steady. "I know what you mean about those days stretching out. It’s like… like you wake up and it’s not even one bad day. It’s a string of them, and before you know it, it feels like it’s been weeks."

The mention of Avalon had her pausing for a moment, and a weight seemed to settle in her chest. It wasn’t just one thing, but the whole mess - Avalon’s death, the chaos surrounding it, the memories of terrible moments in her past that it reminded her of, the strange silence that had followed, and that damn newspaper... It was all tangled up inside her, pulling at her and making it hard to breathe. Dorothy was surprised by how quickly Copper had pinpointed that it was connected to Avalon - he was right, and even more scarily correct at the mention of the newspaper. Surely he couldn't have meant...

"Yeah, Avalon…" Dorothy finally said, hesitance soaked up in her tone of voice, her head nodding slowly. "It's always going to be hard to lose someone in the community, especially someone who I practically grew up beside, even if we weren't ever the closest," Dorothy's eyes flitted back up to finally meet Copper's again. "But it's also... It's a whole string of things that comes after it, and after..." did Copper have the same experience with the newspaper? Or was he talking about something entirely different? Hesitantly, Dorothy decided that she needed to find out. "The newspaper, when I was reading about Avalon... Did you see something wrong with it?" She questioned, specific enough for it to make sense if Copper had had the same experience, but vague enough to later brush off if that wasn't the case.

Her own words hung heavy in the air, and Dorothy shook her head, trying to gather herself. The vulnerability she felt was strange - she wasn’t used to letting people see her struggle, but something about Copper’s quiet, steady presence made it easier. Almost comforting, in a strange way as Dorothy was so used to relying on the same specific people, or else bottling up all of her troubles. "I don’t know if it’s just me overthinking things, but I can’t help but feel like something's happening in town, and… I’m not sure if it’s just the grief making everything harder to see straight or if there’s really something more to all of this." Dorothy gave Copper a searching look, her voice quieter now but with a clear sincerity. "But I appreciate you asking. I guess, maybe, it’s just helpful to talk about it with someone who doesn’t think I’m crazy for wondering..."

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[theirloveisgross]

.

[fantasy-costco]

Ramble vent in the tags about. Tumblr.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I don't not mean this offensively at all but is blows my mind that you are a lawyer but also writing jjk fics bc I work at a law firm and cannot for the life of me imagine any of the lawyers that work there writing fanfiction LOL kudos to u seriously I know how busy schedues can get due to court dates haha

im working in like. big city criminal law stuff right now and have been told by people in my office that i come off as a very deadpan and straight-laced legal nerd so i don't think the people who know me from my attorney life are imagining me writing jjk fanfic in my free time either

[wild-at-mind]

Don't want to tone police anyone else, but I kind of hope that if anyone sent me a misguided ask trying to 'correct' some terminology I used for my own self-identity, I'd be able to reply in a way that didn't frame myself as superior for being out longer than the asker.

[katrafiy]

Hiya tumblr! Let's have a talk about bioessentialist enbyphobia, transmisogyny, and how to make sure transfeminine people, enby or not, feel completely unsafe and unwelcome at your events. First take a look at this group description, and then lets get into it.

First some context. Those of you who know me know about the kinds of clubs I go to. This screenshot was taken from a local event page, and I've blocked out their name because in the months since this event was hosted the group has updated their description to be more inclusive.

Seeing that description, I avoided going to events hosted by that group.

"But Kat, why? You're a woman and it says women are allowed!"

It also implicitly lumps all nonbinary people who were assigned male at birth with men and calls them males.

So why is this a problem for me? Well, if this group sees all AMAB nonbinary people as "male" then it says a lot of things about the ways the see trans women.

Many, and I would venture to assume most, trans women know well the feeling of our womanhood treated as conditional, subject to immediate revocation without warning.

Spaces that are "Women and AFAB exclusive" are often rife with this, and often lead to a lot of really gross and abusive power dynamics where transfems get treated as second class to anyone who was assigned female at birth.

(Side note: Gretchen Felker-Martin did, I believe, a masterful job of portraying this sort of dynamic in her book Manhunt)

If you are a trans woman in one of these spaces, you quickly learn that you are on the thinnest of ice.

Laugh a little too loud? You're male.

Sit or stand a little too close? You're threatening.

Smile at the wrong person? You're making other people uncomfortable.

Transfems, in these spaces, quickly learn that standing up for ourselves in the face of flagrant abuse is verboten, and will be met with swift and decisive punishment and exile.

I personally don't like the word "theyfab" and don't use it. I'm writing this thread to hopefully help people better understand the social dynamics that were being addressed when that term was coined.

It was coined because transfems are forced to navigate a community of things like "afab only" apartment rentals.

It was coined because transfems constantly have to listen to other trans people implicitly describe us as disgusting, hideous freaks.

In short and in closing: consider that the reason why the term "theyfab" exists and "theymab" really doesn't probably lies somewhere in the fact that the sort of person who would call someone a "theymab" doesn't need to, because they *already* just call AMAB trans people "male".

[lazyflower48]

Dazai and Ranpo: The Two Geniuses of the ADA

The thought about making a post about Dazai and Ranpo's teamwork has been plaguing my mind for a while now, and so I finally found some time and decided to go through with it.

So let's talk about one of my favourite underrated duos for a moment. The two geniuses of the ADA- Dazai and Ranpo. Two people who make a wonderful team and are actually, in my opinion, the backbone of the agency.

What I find interesting is that (though I believe that Dazai respects and admires all members of the ADA) Dazai openly admires Ranpo A LOT. He's always quick to praise Ranpo (basically fanboying over him and it's quite adorable to see Dazai gush over someone like that other than Oda) and in 'Dazai's Entrance Exam' we see him being surprised over the fact that Ranpo's ability is not actually an ability and we see him further praise Ranpo's intellect after finding that out.

Despite the fact that Dazai is a huge mystery, even to the people around him, Ranpo figured out that there was something up with Dazai in just a single glance (in 'Dazai's entrance exam'). And despite knowing that Dazai was probably hiding a sinister past, he didn't press him any further for details (probably in order to respect his privacy or his wish to not disclose his past OR maybe due to the the fact that knowing Dazai, he most likely wouldn't answer truthfully even if questioned about it)

What I also love is that even though both of them are extremely intelligent, their intellect differs in such a way that Ranpo is a master of deduction and Dazai is a master of manipulation (as stated by Kunikida in 'The Daily Routine of the Detective Agency'). However, one thing both of them share in common is that they both felt isolated due to their nature.

They may have limited interactions but their interactions are always my favourite, for instance-

1. Dazai's entrance exam - Dazai's admiration and respect towards Ranpo

2. Season 1 - Murder on D-Street - Dazai showing a good understanding of Ranpo's deduction process and acknowledging that Ranpo caught onto more details than him

3. Season 2 - "Mountains or sea?" " Sea. "

Showing their unspoken communication. They can read each other's minds at this point lol.

4. Season 3 - Ranpo basically acknowledging that Dazai would be a tough opponent to go up against by comparing Fyodor to him (sort of praising his intellect in a way)

5. Season 5 - The Strongest Man in the Agency- Ranpo

Dazai keeping an eye on Fyodor while leaving the rest to Ranpo

Dazai relying on his allies- trusting Ranpo to negotiate with Bram in order to undo the vampire curse.

6. Dead Apple - Ranpo seeing through Dazai's plan beforehand.

7. 55 minutes - Seeing through upcoming events beforehand, one thing Dazai made sure was to inform Ranpo about the whole fiasco on Standard Island in order to save the Agency in the end.

Also, sidenote: I found out that the Dazai and Ranpo duo is named Souheki, which translates to double jade. Now, I'm not sure if this information is fanon or canon (feels more like fanon tbh but I really like it because it's a pretty name)

Anyway, one thing we can say for sure is that as long as the two geniuses of the Agency- Souheki work together, the ADA will most likely remain undefeated cause no one really does it like them

Lastly, just some food for thought. I've always wondered how Dazai would react if he found out that Ranpo met Oda TWICE and the second time he met him was right before Oda went on to his certain death.

Honestly, I would LOVE to see more fleshed out and direct interactions between these two.

[homunculus-argument]

Sorry if I’m overthinking this but after reading the post that goes “Me and my boyfriend grew up with very different styles of communication. I learned early that if someone asks you a question, you should quickly assess what the asker actually wants to know…” I started thinking about those posts where you say that people think you are stupid when they specify on or add onto something you’ve said when you think the specification should be obvious. Maybe that feeling boils down to this sort of thinking? That you’ve been taught to analyse every single word to find the hidden or real meaning while most just don’t really do that, at least not to that extent.

Of course I don’t have the full context for all those situations. Apologies for trying to psychoanalyse you

It's honestly not even a conscious thought, as much as just... semi-instinctive behaviour? Like the way you don't have to think about grammar rules when talking in your first language. The way you'd naturally assume that a surface that looks like grass is going to be grass, and you step on it as if it was grass, and then get surprised when you sink right in because it was actually a pond with very grass-like algae growing on the surface.

This one time I was out with a friend, whose family background is about the most similar to mine as anyone I've ever met (two kids, father who is a cunt, undiagnosed ADHD, financially fairly well-off but neglected kids, etc). We were walking to their car, and as we were just about to get to it, I starteld the shit out of my friend by grabbing their purse by the strap. Legit didn't even think about it, and I was just as startled by my friend's reaction as they were by me.

It was only then that I put together that whenever I had been out with my sister, and we were approaching the car, she would adjust her purse strap in that exact same way, and with her it was an indication of "here, take my purse", and without a second thought with no thought at all, I had just gone "time to grab purse" and startled a friend who had not actually communicated anything like that.

[pearlessance]

Lust Among Thieves [part two]

[part one]

Summary: Fifteen years after escaping your captors, leaving them and the cabin in the woods behind, you end up in a community named Jackson and find yourself repeating the same old habits. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, angst galore, mild infidelity (Tommy is with Maria but he and reader share one [1] kiss), canon typical violence, mention of kidnapping, mention of blood, angssssttt but with a happy ending (reader ends up with one brother!!!) NOTE: this is a cowrite i've done with my BFF joelmillersgirlfriend!! make sure to go and read her other stuff on A03! thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on this one, I'm glad you guys are liking it! let us know what you think about the ending <3 [MASTERLIST]

The sun is so warm that it’s beginning to melt the snow, turning it from soft and fluffy to a wet sort of slush. A comforting relief, because the winter holds memories you’re better off leaving behind. Memories of scowls and whittling knives, of the taste of whiskey and lighthearted laughter.

After fifteen years, you thought you’d grow out of the feeling, that you’d grieve the loss and go on instead to appreciate the recovery of your autonomy. But every winter, without fail, you remember your time in that cabin. You remember them. 

You’d never grown out of the feeling and you’d never grown into the now tattered canvas coat. If you closed your eyes and imagined the burn of the winter snow grazing your skin, you could remember how Joel smelled. You could remember how Tommy’s lips tasted.

But years had passed. The memory was now a faint one and one that you tried not to dwell on for too long. You have met a lot of people over the years and had dangerous encounters daily. Why was this one different?

Joel and Tommy had turned you into a new person within the four walls of that cabin. You weren’t the same afterward, now you were sculpted into a being with a sharp tongue and a toughed exterior yet… the core of you was soft. If you dug deep enough, the creature that Joel and Tommy had created was still inside of you, tender and vulnerable. 

For a while, you considered what you would do if you ever encountered them again. You were so far away from the outskirts of the Boston QZ, the death of your father and the weight of the situation turning into a calloused scar instead of a leaking wound over time. Over the past fifteen years, you had made your way across the country, searching for something. Whatever that something was, you weren’t sure of yet.

If you saw the brothers, would you be angry? Would they? They were heavy on your mind that morning as you made your way through the abandoned, ice-covered streets of Jackson Hole Wyoming.

You had left a compound back in Nebraska weeks ago. The people there weren’t bad, but it felt like another washed-down version of living under FEDRA. Constant patrolling, ridiculous rules. It was no surprise that you felt trapped because you had always felt trapped. It was only a matter of time before you ran away. It was the only thing that you were good at. 

You jumped from house to house in Wyoming, occasionally spending a couple of days if you were tired of the constant headache of moving every day. Most of your days consisted of you laying on an old, lifeless mattress, staring up at the ceiling and asking yourself ‘What if I never left?’ Would you have more of a purpose now? Would you not be alone?

You practiced your regular routine of bouncing through dilapidated houses, grabbing what supplies were still left, which was practically nothing. For an area where you had encountered absolutely no one, the houses were surprisingly scarce. 

It was getting late in the evening, and you had picked a house to settle down in for the night. The house had a rough exterior, similar to yours, but the inside was surprisingly still in good condition. You crept through the house, picking through each drawer and cabinet to once again, find nothing.

Truly, the master bedroom should have been an indicator to leave, but you were always a sucker for taking things that did not belong to you.

Just when you were about to call searching the house quits and crack open a book from your bag, you noticed a shifted floorboard in the bedroom. You hummed to yourself in curiosity, reaching down to investigate the suspicious piece of wood. It came out of the floor easily, revealing the contents buried inside. 

Ammo, water, packaged food, medicine. 

But most importantly, a bottle of Jack. Jesus, how long had it been since you had seen one of these? You laughed to yourself when you pulled it out of its hiding spot, half empty but still the perfect amount for a lone wanderer. 

You grabbed your pack, slipping all of the things you had found into it before you heard the voices. 

Fuck.

Moving swiftly, you grabbed everything you could before glancing around the bedroom. Footsteps and conversations were coming up the stairs, and you couldn’t believe how stupid you were for not checking the perimeter of the neighborhood before poking through the houses. 

“Jesse, go get the stuff from the master. Maria is gonna be pissed that we weren’t able to find more. Might as well bring back what we can,” you vaguely heard a gruff voice say. 

Into the closet you went, quietly tiptoeing across the room. Your hands were shaking as you grasped the straps of your bag, praying that luck would be on your side, just this once. 

The second you faded into the darkness of the shadows in the closet, a man stepped into the bedroom. You could see him through the panels of the closet door, especially if you squinted in just the right way.

He appeared young, with long dark hair that fell into his eyes when he glanced around the room. You held your breath when his sharp, determined eyes shifted to look over at the closet momentarily. It didn’t last long, which you were grateful for. You could feel your pulse ticking in your neck as he moved away to check the floorboards, knowing that he wasn’t going to be pleased with what he found. 

He was turned away from you so you couldn’t physically gauge his reaction, but his voice told you all you needed to know.

“Uh, we have a problem here. Stuff’s gone!” he shouted, standing back up quickly to unholster his gun. He glanced around the room once more, waiting for his partner to shout something back.

The voice was distant when it spoke, most likely still downstairs, waiting. “What do you mean, gone?”

The man who was only a few meters from you sighed, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s gone, someone must’ve taken it!”

You could hear heavy footsteps, every movement clearly laced with annoyance as he climbed the stairs. And then they stop a short distance away, and you hear the familiar click of his gun. 

In the holster strapped around your thigh sits your pistol. You have only two bullets—enough to kill a clicker in a pinch, but not enough to fend off two grown men who are also armed. You tighten your fingers around the handle of the old knife, leather now cracked with age, formed perfectly to the hills and valleys of your fingers.

Heart hammering, you know and accept the fact that you’re going to have to take your chances and run. You could already see the shadow of the man entering the room, grumbling at having to come up the stairs. His back was to the closet, approaching his partner.

“It was here two days ago,” he began before quickly stopping. His hand reached out, gesturing towards the ground. Your eyes squinted, following the gesture down until you saw what he found. Wet footprints.

You lunged out of the closet before anyone could even move, and latched onto the man's back like a starfish. You looked at the first man, Jesse, before pressing your knife against the second man's throat.

“Just let me leave. Let me leave and I won’t kill him,” you said coldly, the tip of the blade pushing into your prisoner. 

Jesse’s eyes widened, his hands spread in an attempt to calm you. “Hey, wait a second. We’re not looking for a fight. It doesn’t have to be like this,” he spoke, loosely holding his gun in his hand. You glanced at it with hesitation, which was enough time for your prisoner to grab your wrist and whip you around.

He was much larger than you, probably almost three times your size. There was no way in hell you would’ve been able to keep him restrained for long.

You whimpered in pain at the feeling of your wrist being twisted, the knife dropping out of your hand and clattering to the ground below.

“Stupid girl,” the man said, turning slowly to face you. There’s something about the way the words sound in his mouth that twists up your insides, a timbre that makes your hands tremble and shake. “Shouldn’t make threats when you’re outnum—” He stops. 

And your heart does, too. “Joel?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just narrows his eyes and clenches his teeth, jaw feathering. His hair has gone a little gray and there are defined wrinkles around his mouth and a scar across his nose that didn’t exist the last time you’d seen him, but you’re sure of it. As sure as you are of the ground beneath your feet, you’re sure that a ghost stands before you. 

His eyes soften as the realization hits. You know you’ve aged, too—though perhaps not as drastically.

Jesse is the one who speaks. “Do you know each other or something?”

“Yes,” Joel says, in perfect time as you answer, “No.”

“O…kay.” Jesse shifts uncomfortably on his feet before he closes the space between himself and the place you and Joel stand in what seems to be an eternal face-off. He plucks your knife up from the ground and hands it to you, hilt first. “Here. We don’t want any trouble.”

The shine of the blade catches Joel’s eye, and he scoffs as he processes what he sees. He takes the knife from Jesse’s hand before you get a chance to do so. He raises it in front of his face, no doubt inspecting the two letters etched into the metal.

“T.M? Tommy?” Jesse’s brows furrow as he turns his attention to you. “Is this Tommy’s knife?”

Neither of you answer him. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and sweat beads your hairline. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears and every cell in your body urges you to run as far and as fast as you can. 

“Joel,” Jesse says, voice a little more firm. 

“Just let me go,” you plead, staring Joel in the eye, trying to hide your fear. Not of him, but of the feeling that rises in you upon seeing him. The yearning, the desire, the familiarity. You’d convinced yourself it’d be gone by now, eviscerated. But feeling the warmth of his skin, smelling the pine scent of him—it all comes flooding back with a vengeance. “Please. Just give me the knife and I’ll walk away and we can pretend—”

“She’s coming back with us,” he tells Jesse. “Feed her. Get her some new clothes. If she wants to stay, there’s that empty house over by the cemetery. Fixed it up last week.”

“Stay? Where?”

“A town,” Jesse answers. He smiles at you and it’s warm and inviting, something you haven’t seen in some time. “A community.”

Your stomach growls at the thought of a decent meal, but your fear has you shaking your head. “No, I can’t. I’m—”

“You what?” Joel’s voice cuts through you. “Don’t got anywhere else to go. God knows how long it’s been since you last ate.”

You want to protest, to argue with him, to prove him wrong. But you can’t, because he’s right, and that fact enrages you more than anything else. 

Still, you agree. One night, you tell yourself. A good meal and a good night’s sleep and then you’d leave, never to be seen again.

Jesse helped you onto the back of his horse, leading the way back to the settlement while Joel followed. Every time you glanced back, unable to prevent yourself from looking at Joel, you saw his icy gaze watching your own. You swallowed nervously, pulling back into Jesse. You wondered what Joel was thinking. If he remember everything, if it meant anything to him.

Jackson was huge. There was food and people and walls. It wasn’t like the QZ. People lived like a family, working together for the better of humanity. It brought tears to your eyes to see. 

You felt overwhelmed as you trailed through the streets of Jackson, still mounted upon Jesse’s horse. Random strangers on the street greeted Joel as he led the way like he was some sort of beloved member of the community. All you could do was force a smile and nod during the random greetings, wondering if they knew who Joel really was.

“That jacket looks real familiar,” Joel spoke, gesturing at the worn coat swallowing your shoulders. It was large and had outlived its life, but you couldn’t let it go. It had been with you during some of the coldest winters, keeping you warm. 

“Looks a lot like the one my daddy gave me before he passed. I went crazy, thinkin’ I misplaced it. All this time, it was just you stealin’ shit that don’t belong to you,” Joel scoffed, but without malice. You stuttered, closing it around your body to cover your chest, a habit stemming from pure nerves.

It had been your jacket for years, your only source of comfort during cruel winters. It belonged to you just as much as it belonged to him. You were the one who had taken care of it all of the time.

Joel chuckled at your reaction, grinning down at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask for it back. I’m happy that you’ve gotten some use outta it.”

It was bewildering, how one sentence he spoke could come across filled with resentment, with ire, and the next be filled with something that felt sort of like relief.

But even back then, even fifteen years ago, you’d never been able to quite understand him. And though his anger was a kindred spirit to yours, Joel was so confusing. 

Once in the stables, Jesse helps you dismount. Before you even swing your leg over the horse, Joel’s handing his reins off to the stable hand and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight. 

Jesse sees your attention follow him, no doubt reading the expression of confusion on your face. “Don’t worry about him,” he says. “Joel can be a bit of an ass sometimes.”

You think that might be the understatement of the decade, but you keep that to yourself. 

“C’mon. Let’s go meet Maria to see where we should place you for housing and then I’ll let you get settled in.”

As Jesse leads you through the streets of Jackson, you can’t help but feel a bit of shock at the way things operate here. There are so many people you can’t keep their faces straight. Children of all ages, people your age, and elders. A rare occurrence these days.

There’s electricity powering lights strewn between the buildings. A carpenter and a grocer and a bar. It feels like something out of a dream.

Jesse leads you into what looks like a cafeteria. There are a handful of tables with hundreds of mismatched chairs around them, and a low chatter that greets you the moment you step through the doors. 

You notice him in a second.

Tommy’s laughing. His hair has grown out long enough that he can tuck the dark blonde strands behind his ear now, curling just slightly at the ends. 

He’s got a couple more freckles and wrinkles around his soft eyes. And seeing Joel was jarring, but it’s Tommy and his boisterous laughter and that wide grin on his face that makes your chest crack wide open. 

You love him, and you’ve always known it. You love them both, but it’s the loss of Tommy’s warmth you’ve felt the deepest since escaping from that cabin. It’s taken you a long time to accept it, but you have—and seeing him brought back a burning feeling that you thought was long gone.

Tommy notices Jesse, waving at him wildly, looking past you as if you were transparent. He didn’t recognize you yet, which wasn’t surprising. You were standing a handful of meters away, and from what it appeared, you seemed to be a ghost from a past life. One that he never anticipated seeing again, with how settled down he appeared to be now.

“Jesse! You have to hear this shit, man! Get over here,” Tommy gestured, a shit-eating smile still filling his face. You noticed the way Jesse looked at you first, evaluating your reaction, which was little to none. You’d grown good at hiding your emotions over the years, a calloused exterior being your own personal form of protection. A shell.

Your brain felt like it was pounding against the walls of your skull when you followed Jesse over to Tommy’s table. You kept your eyes glued down at your feet and prayed, that maybe, he wouldn’t notice you. But, of course…

“Hey, Tommy. I think I found an old friend of yours,” Jesse starts off with, the bastard. Tommy’s soft eyes move over to you, staring blankly for a couple of beats. The noise from the cafeteria droned out as you looked into his eyes, locked on those deep irises that you had dreamt about for years.

The sound of Tommy’s metal chair scraping against the floor pulled you out of your haze. His arms wrapped around you, engulfing your frame - swallowing you in his own body. He was so warm and firm. You hadn’t touched another person for so long, not like this. 

But you still were so uncertain. Your hands wavered, shaking nervously as you considered hugging him back. Things were so complicated, incredibly taboo, and filthy. You shouldn’t want to hug him back. You opt on loosely hugging his waist, too nervous to match the pressure of his embrace.

He pulls back, his large palms coming up to cradle the sides of your face. It reminded you of that night all those years ago when you first kissed him. You could still taste the bottle of Jack on his lips, warm and heavy against your tongue.

Tommy was contemplating kissing you, you had seen the look before. It was all too familiar.

His eyes were heavy, but the look left almost as quickly as it had appeared. He awkwardly shifted back, pulling out of your incredibly loose embrace. Jesus, Tommy was just as conflicted with you. His remorse for what had happened was clear on his face, those heavy puppy dog eyes searching your face desperately, praying that you would forgive him. Forgive Joel.

It was all too much - your head was spinning and your tongue was stuck to the roof of your mouth. Tommy glanced over at the table he had jumped up from, directly at a woman who was sitting next to his seat. Her freckled face was etched with a frown, one that was full of confusion about the situation.

“Christ, you’re alive?” Tommy whispered, wavering away from you. His disbelief wasn’t one that you had expected, nor had Jesse. The young man was still standing beside you, watching the events unfold with wide eyes. 

“I’m not really hungry, Jesse,” you turned and said, needing to get out of there immediately. Something was unraveling deep inside, what that something was, you didn’t know. Your palms felt slick with sweat, your legs unintentionally pulling you back, protecting you from the conversation.

“Please,” Tommy begged, “Let’s talk. Settle in, get used to everything, but don’t leave town without comin’ to talk. And for the love of God, eat .”

You nodded, backing away from Tommy like a scared puppy. The sound of your heart beating filled your brain as you turned and walked away, Jesse hot on your heels. You heard Tommy’s voice speak, “Maria, come on, we gotta go over some things.”

The air is cool against your heated skin, and you greedily swallow the icy air. You press your palm against your sternum, trying to will your heart to slow and your blood to settle in your veins.

“Hey,” Jesse says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder that makes you jump out of your skin.

When you turn to face him, you don’t even remember unsheathing your knife from the holster strapped to your belt. He has his hands held up in surrender, that friendly smile on his face, and guilt begins to trickle down your spine.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You lower the knife quickly, returning it to its rightful place at your hips. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, too. Uhm…instinct, I guess.”

“I get it,” he says, and for some reason, you believe him. There’s such understanding in his voice that it’s hard not to. “Jackson is a lot to adjust to. Doesn’t happen overnight.”

You nod slowly in response. 

“There’s an empty house over by the cemetery. I can show you, and you can rest or look around or…you know, do whatever you need to. There’s hot water, you can shower, and some staples in the pantry if you feel like cooking. I can run to the community hall and get you some new clothes and drop them off if you want some space.”

The words sound foreign in your ears as if he’s speaking a different language. Cooking, showering, hot water …the thought crosses your mind that you’ve somehow died and this is all some kind of strange hallucination. 

But a moment along sounds like bliss, and a shower sounds like heaven, so you find yourself nodding and following him through the streets of Jackson. Jesse tries to make small talk, but you’re not in much of a talking mood and he seems to pick up on it and doesn’t press for much more information.

He tells you there are towels in the linen closet in the hall upstairs and promises to return in less than ten minutes with a basket of clean clothes. “I’ll set them just inside the door,” he said. ”Take what you want. If there’s anything that doesn’t fit, I’ll bring it back to the hall later.”

The house is nice, bigger than any of the places you’ve ever holed up in for a few days, and more secure, too. Upstairs there’s a massive bathroom and before you do anything else, you turn the handle to the hottest setting. The water spits and spudders and is freezing at first, but the second it begins to warm you’re stripping off your clothes and stepping beneath the stream.

And you’re not quite sure why, but the sensation of it brings moisture to your eyes, salty tears mixing with the warm spray from the showerhead. The water that pools at your feet is dark and grimy, ridding you of the dirt that clings to your skin. 

You scrub your skin raw and still don’t feel clean enough. But when the water runs cold, you leave wet footprints on the wood flooring of the stairs and find that Jesse stayed true to his word. 

Just inside the front door is a laundry basket full of clothes; denim and fleece, cotton t-shirts and undergarments, socks, and even a half-decent bra. You settle on jeans and a hoodie that’s just a little too big, but still hold tight to the old coat you’d stolen.

He also left a plate of food, which you assumed was from the cafeteria. Even though you didn’t think you could’ve eaten earlier, not after seeing Tommy, you were suddenly famished. The food was gone in under a minute. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had something fresh, rice, green beans, onions. It was life-altering.

There’s a big bed in the center of one of the bedrooms upstairs, and you tell yourself you’ll rest just for a few seconds. A few minutes. But the moment your head hits the pillow, you know it isn’t true and you don’t have the energy to convince yourself otherwise. 

When you finally wake, the room is dark, and the rays from the rising moon are silhouetting the bedroom in a blue haze. You sigh, relaxing into the bed sheets. It was crazy to reflect on your current circumstances. Just a day ago, you were starving, sleeping on an old rotted mattress with a gun held tightly in your hand. Now, you could hear the laughter and shouts of children from the street outside your window.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you stood up, deciding to leave the house and explore. It would be beneficial to know where everything is, you think. If for nothing else than to know the best escape routes, to become familiar with the routine of the watchers on the walls.

You brush your teeth before heading out, the night air rushing against your face when you step onto the front porch. Even though it’s late in the evening, the streets are still filled with people; families walking back home together, couples holding hands. It almost feels unreal.

Walking past the cemetery, you notice some people crouched at the gravestones, crying. Even when you were somewhere safe, you could never escape the horrors of loss.

It felt like you were floating through the streets of Jackson, an outsider peering in. The closer you got to the center of town, the more people you stumbled upon. Icicle lights were strung across the powerlines and street before you, random strangers greeting you in passing. 

You finally grew tired of the attention, the stares, the forced conversations. You ended up pulling up the hood of your jacket over your head, shielding yourself from gazing eyes. 

A small church was planted near the center of town, and the doors cracked, allowing you to glance in. Though it wasn’t entirely full, many people filled the pews and watched the priest give his sermon. You could pick up a few words from where you were standing, but you didn’t really care to hear. You gave up on a religion a long time ago. 

A couple of meters away was an open space that had a bonfire square in the middle, with a handful of picnic tables spread across the space. The hum of the people talking drew you in, despite not knowing anyone, or so you thought.

“Settlin’ in good?” you heard from behind you, the voice making you jump in surprise. You turned back to see Joel, his dark eyes watching you from a couple of feet away. Those dark eyes still made your palm sweat and your cheeks burn bright. He had always held something in him that made you docile. 

You cleared your throat, subconsciously pulling at the strings of your hoodie. “It’s surreal here. Not like the QZ.”

Joel huffs, nodding in agreement. “Thank God it ain’t.“

There is an awkward pause where you stand shyly in front of Joel, uncertain of what to say next. Making small talk with him was never your forte, because typically he never even wanted to speak with you. Now, here he is, actively trying to pull a conversation out of you. He had changed. 

“You’re not like how I remember,” you say, your lips moving quicker than your brain was able to think. Joel stiffened, rubbing the scruff of his beard.

“Yeah? And how do you remember me?”

It’s a test, one to see how you would describe your relationship with both him and Tommy. A mutual romantic bond? Or something much more sinister, much more taboo? You don’t fall for the trap because you aren’t even sure how you want to interpret everything. Not entirely.

“Quieter. Less gray hairs too,” you said, not expecting the warm sound of Joel’s laughter to hit your ears. He smiled down at you, the grin boyish and full of hidden memories. It made you ache for something you never even had. 

“It’s been a long time. When you left…” Joel trailed off, his expression morphing into a dark cloud. You knew that leaving would hurt both of the brothers, and it felt shameful to admit that sometimes you regretted your escape. Yes, you were free, but what difference did it make? You had lost companionship. Love?

“We both hated to see you leave, but we understood.” Joel was no longer looking you in the eye but was instead staring down at his feet. “What happened there? It wasn’t right, the things we did with you. I can be the first to admit. It was the actions of two desperate, lonely men. But I’m not here to make excuses.”

His eyes moved back to look at your face, to gauge your reaction. 

“I’m sorry. Tommy sure as hell is, he beat himself to death over all of it. You don’t have to forgive me or forgive either of us. But, please, just hear him out. He wants you to come over to dinner tomorrow so you can meet everyone. Then maybe we could all talk?”

You stepped back, crossing your arms and shaking your head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you tried to explain. The idea of being trapped in a house with people you didn’t know didn’t exactly sound appealing. Joel had apologized for both him and Tommy, truthfully, there wasn’t much of a point to even go now. What more was there to talk about?

“Joel!” shouted a voice from where the bonfire was taking place. Both you and Joel turned to watch a young girl run over to where you were standing. When she arrives you’re able to get a good look at her - pretty blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose that reminds you of the constellations.

For a moment you considered that maybe he had a kid. She looked no older than sixteen - it could be possible. But she didn’t look like Joel, much too soft in the cheeks. Joel had strong features while this girl was the epitome of a cherub, her rounded lips turned up into a smile as she grinned at you.

“Joel. Is it alright if I spend the night at Cat’s? I don’t have garden duty until the afternoon so I’d have plenty of time to get back,” she explained. Well, if she wasn’t Joel’s daughter then she was certainly Joel’s something. The sick thought crossed your mind that maybe something was wrong here, but the moment Joel reached over to tousle her hair, you knew that you were wrong.

“Of course not, El. Be back by dinner tomorrow,” he said, shooting her away, back towards the crowd at the fire. She gave you a farewell wave, one that you returned, as she ran off to find her friend.

Your face was warm when you thought about how you had considered that Joel might’ve been in a relationship with her. Joel noticed your embarrassment, watched the way you huffed into your palm, and shook your head.

“What?” Joel questioned, the distant fire casting a fire over his face. It reminded you of the cabin, of the fireplace. Of his warmth.

“You kidnap her too?”

The small grin that he had on his face disappeared in an instant, replaced with rage and disappointment.

“Of course not,” Joel sputtered, scoffing at the accusation. “I would’ve never- I mean, she is just a child,” he hissed.

“And I wasn’t?” you whispered back just as angrily, pulling your hood off of your head. You wanted him to look at you, to see you. 

“I told you, I’m sorry. I’ve had fifteen years to reflect and I can admit that I was,” Joel pauses before snarling, “a goddamn monster back then. But, Ellie, she’s like a daughter to me. She gave me a purpose. With her, things were different,” he sighed, shaking his head in frustration. 

Tears were burning the back of your eyes, but you forced yourself to keep it together. You weren’t going to show Joel that he had hurt you. That you had missed him. 

“And why wasn’t it different with me?” you questioned, a genuine curiosity behind the words. 

Joel only stood, looking down at you with his lips pressed into a frown. This girl, Ellie, had broken Joel, but you hadn’t. What was so special about her that she was able to receive his empathy?

The answer to that question was easy. You knew that deep down, it was never about you. It was about Sarah. 

You hated that you weren’t able to watch him grow and change, to help him change. He never gave you the chance. 

“I’m going to go,” you said, turning to leave both Joel and the conversation behind. Before you could walk off the sidewalk, you felt a familiar hand wrapped around your arm. A heat rose in your chest and settled in between your thighs just by being touched by Joel. 

His dark eyes softened as he took you in, his gaze tracing the lines of your face, your body, your palms. His large hands dwarfed yours when he pulled you towards him, wrapping you in a hug. It was different from Tommy’s, one that was full of surprise and longing.

Joel’s was tender and soft, his large palms moving in small, gentle circles as if he was afraid he’d break you. 

“Is this okay?” Joel questioned, one that took you by surprise. He had changed, that’s for sure. You nodded, melting into his touch, practically cemented between the pressure of his arms. It had been so long since you had been touched, focused purely on survival. It felt good, to feel wanted.

“When you left we searched for you,” he spoke into your hair. “With the raiders and all, we thought that maybe more had come and taken you. Took us a little while to realize that wasn’t the case. We understood why you left, why you felt like you had to leave, but… fuck .”

He had pulled back now, unable to meet your eyes. “I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to be by your side until it was too late. I fucked up. We both did. But it was me who treated you badly, who excused it. So, I’m sorry.”

It was Joel’s third and final apology of the night. You had decided that you did forgive him, for all of it. There was no point in wallowing in anger forever. You had to let it go.

“I know,” you whispered, reaching to hold his palm in your hand. He wasn’t a bad man. He had never been, and it hits you only now that maybe you’ve always known from the very first moment that he’s not bad …he’s just like you. 

Quick to anger, quicker to self-preservation. Neither of you has ever seen the best in others before the bad, your psyche molded always to expect the worst, tragedy burned in like a bad memory.

“I know,” you say again. “And I forgive you.”

His shoulders deflate as if setting down something so heavy he’d become accustomed to the weight of it after all these years. He gives you this smile, but it’s sort of sad and the sight of it quietly breaks your heart. 

But Joel regains his composure quickly, casting his eyes away from you and clearing emotion from his throat. Your hand still sits in his, a firm, warm hold on you, full of surety, devoid of hesitation. You try not to think about how much it feels like home. 

“So, would you think about dinner then?”

You don’t know these people. You know Joel and Tommy but everyone else remains a mystery, and though nothing about Jackson raises any immediate red flags, there’s still a nagging warning that rings in the back of your mind. Don’t get close. This is only temporary. You don’t belong here. Yet still, you find yourself nodding, pleased with the look of further satisfaction that finds its way onto Joel’s face. “Okay. Dinner.”

When he releases your hand, it feels like a loss all over again. You swallow it down, bury it deep, pretend it’s not there like you’ve always done. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he says. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. Been a long day.”

You nod and force the words out of your mouth even though all you want is to beg him to stay, to wrap his big hand back around yours and pull you into his side. “Goodnight, Joel.”

Even though it makes you feel a little pathetic, you watch him walk away. But he’s turning back to face you, slowly walking backward as he quickly says, “You’re free to take any leftovers, by the way. No, uh…no thievery needed.”

It makes you laugh, the joy of the tender moment seeping deep between your bones. “Good to know,” you say. “I’ll keep it in mind, but don’t be surprised if I pocket a silver spoon or two.”

You hardly sleep the entire night. All you can think about it the weight of his calloused palm, of the timbre of his voice as he told you they looked for you.

No one’s ever looked for you before.

Just before sunrise, you allow yourself a moment to regret running. It’s the first time in all your life that you think maybe flight was the wrong response. 

Tommy knocks on your door early. He’s got on a pair of Levi’s and a black and red flannel, and there’s a long-barrel rifle slung over his shoulder with a scope attached to it. “Morning, sweetheart,” he says. The familiar sobriquet sends a warmth slithering down your spine. “Thought we could go out today. Just the two of us. That sound okay?”

Before you have the chance to think better of it, you're stepping outside and closing the door behind you. Tommy chuckles softly at your lack of hesitation and throws an affectionate arm around your shoulders. You can’t resist leaning into him, can’t think of another place you’ve ever felt safer. 

But then you think of that day so long ago, with Joel wrapped around you, his strong arms encircling your waist, and you think tucked into Tommy’s side might be the second safest place in the world.

The streets of Jackson are relatively empty compared to yesterday. The sun is up, casting orange shadows over the puddles of melting snow, and the lack of prying eyes makes you curious. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s Sunday,” he says simply. “For one day of the week, no one’s got any jobs to do.” 

Truthfully, the concept of a weekday or a weekend has been foreign to you for so long you’d nearly forgotten its existence. “Oh,” is all you can rebuttal. And then a few moments later, “Where are we going?”

“Hunting trip,” Tommy explains. “Just like old times. Joel says you still got my skinnin’ knife.”

The words hold some accusation, making you flush, but there’s a proud smile on his face and you know he’s not angry for your stealing. You can feel the weight of it at your hip, and pull it from the sheath attached to your leather belt. Slowly, you turn it in your hand, polished silver glinting. 

“Figured you’d taken it when I couldn’t find it. Looked everywhere for that thing. Looked everywhere for you, too. But…I just hoped it kept you safe. Wherever you were, I kinda liked the thought of, ya know…just being able to protect you somehow. I’m glad you had it.”

His confession cracks your chest wide open and leaves you bleeding. You think of all the times his knife had done just that; protected you, fed you, saved you.

“S’alright,” he says. “Go on an’ keep it. S’yours now, sweetheart.” 

You slide the blade back into its home on your hip and follow Tommy as he feeds and speaks softly to an all-black horse in the stables. He saddles it quickly and with precision before pulling you up onto the horse behind him.

Instinctually, you wrap your arms tight around his waist and rest your cheek against his spine, inhaling the familiar but long-forgotten scent of him. The watchers on the walls let the two of you pass with only a nod to Tommy, and you ride slowly through the wet grass until you come to a clearing in the woods.

There’s a tree blind, hidden at the edge of the brush. Tommy ties the horse’s reins to the post and he lets you climb up the ladder first. 

Once you’re both safely inside, the horse grazing on the grass below, Tommy sits the end of his rifle on the edge of the window before settling into one of the rickety wooden chairs that have been hauled into the blind. 

You take the one beside him. Even though you know a big part of hunting is the silence, a million questions press against the back of your teeth. After a few minutes pass by, you can take the pressure no longer and ask, “Who’s Maria?”

A smile climbs onto his face. Unsure of what to expect, it surprises you as he answers simply, saying, “My wife.”

“ Wife ?” It raises a plethora of new questions. How long have they known each other? Did Tommy ever tell Maria about their time in the cabin? Did the two of them build Jackson together? Why does his answer sting?

He seems to sense the confusion and reaches across the open space to squeeze your hand in his. “After you left. Jesus, I think both Joel and I had a moment of realization. I missed you like hell, the feelin’ of you, the warmth. To think that you had gone back out there, with raiders and God knows what else, because of me and Joel? Christ.”

Tommy sighs, pausing before staring out into the wooded distance. You could see how much he had on his mind, an unbearable weight that he had been holding for years. It was wearing him down, weakening his bones. 

“I know Joel talked to you, but I really can’t explain to you how sorry I am,” Tommy began. You glanced down at his palm which was still holding your own, large and heavy against your skin. 

“There’s no excusin’ it. You were so young, and innocent. Something that we hadn’t been around for so long. We had seen horrible things, had done awful things. We took advantage of you. I took advantage of you.” He turned to look at you, a deep sincerity held in his eyes. “Please, forgive me. I don't know how I’d be able to keep livin’ with myself if you don’t.”

There wasn’t anything to forgive. You had wanted everything that happened, at the end of the day. You had missed both him and Joel. 

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me for stealing from you,” you said in an attempt to break the ice. You knew it worked from the way Tommy’s face broke out into a toothy grin. 

“You’re forgiven.”

Tommy explained to you what had happened after you ran away from the cabin. How he had gone back to the Boston QZ in search of you, eventually abandoning Joel there to join the Fireflies. From there he had ditched the Fireflies, deciding that their methods were too extreme, and then, he met Maria. She had saved him, washed him of all of his sins, and gave him a purpose again. 

“She’s a good woman. An amazing woman, Jackson wouldn’t even exist without her,” he said, but it felt like he was convincing himself and not you. Tommy looked over at you, a dark lust behind his eyes that you hadn’t seen since the last night you shared in that faraway cabin. 

“She is,” he breathed. “But… sometimes I think about how different things would’ve been if I made better choices back then. I’m happy here in Jackson, beyond happy, but-“

You closed the distance quickly, knocking your wooden chair into his own. His lips were warm and soft, just like you had remembered them. It was easy kissing Tommy, like second nature. He hummed into your mouth and didn’t push you away. There was no huge rush of passion behind it, but something much more important. Catharsis. A conclusion.

“For closure,” you whispered into his lips. Tommy nodded, kissing you once more before leaning back in his seat, his hand still holding yours.

“For closure.”

On the way back, Tommy fills you in on Joel’s relationship with Ellie. They met in the QZ, where he agreed to take her across the country to Salt Lake City. When you ask why, Tommy insists it isn’t important, that if it was he would tell you. “It’s Ellie’s secret to tell, anyway,” he says.

You let it go, far more interested in something else entirely. Your arms are wrapped around his waist on the back of the horse and you’re breathing a little easier now as you ask, “Does she make you happy? Maria?”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Or rather contemplation, perhaps. But then he nods slowly and says, “Yeah. Yeah, she does.”

You’re glad to hear it. Truthfully. Even with all that’s transpired, you’re thankful Tommy was able to find this slice of bliss in the hellish affairs of the world. 

“Does she know? About what happened?” you asked shyly. Tommy sighed, nodding.

“She knew bits and pieces but not at all of it. After Joel and Jesse found you, I told her everything. It wasn’t fair for her not to know.”

You would’ve guessed that he told her. He seemed to really love her, to trust her. If Joel even trusted her, then that showed the strength in the relationship. It didn’t bother you that she knew. It was for the best.

“And…Joel? Do you think he’s happy?”

This time it’s definitely hesitation. Tommy’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. He lets out a long breath, misting in the cool air. “He hasn’t been the same since…”

“Since Sarah, right?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes, but…”

There’s something he’s holding onto, and you’re not sure if it’s for your sake or for Joel’s. Either way, this is the secret you decide you need to uncover. “Tell me.”

“When you left…I mean, I know I already said it was hard but it was different for Joel. I had the Fireflies and then I had Maria and Jackson, all things that filled the emptiness but Joel…I don’t know. S’like he never came back from it. From losin’ you.”

You can see Jackson in the distance now. A silhouette of a town, of a home. Your stomach turns, thinking that all this time you’ve both been suffering from the same plight and the cure has simply been forgiveness. 

But can you live with entirely forgiving Joel? Completely? He advocated for your death, held you hostage, and shot you in cold blood. You can acknowledge and accept the fact that he’s changed, that you all have, that you’ve grown and matured and established a firm line between what’s right and what’s wrong, something the three of you once lacked.

You’ve finally found closure enough to move on from this, but if you let go of your anger, let it dissolve into nothing, what would be left of what you feel for him but longing?

If you let it all go…there would be nothing left inside you for Joel Miller but love, and you’re fairly certain that that would be even more difficult to navigate than your anger. 

Once back in Jackson with nothing to show for your hunting trip but ease in your shoulders, Tommy secures the horse back into the stables and offers to walk you home. You laugh and joke the whole way and it feels natural, just like old times but perhaps even better now that you’re here of your own volition. 

Once in front of your house, Tommy takes your hand in his and kisses your palm. “I’ll always care for you,” he whispers, dancing around a word far more intense. Once again, you’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or for his, or if it’s for Joel’s.

You lift his hand to your face and lean into his caress, feeling the warmth on your cheek, the roughness of his skin brought on by age and hard labor. “Me too,” you admit. And then quieter, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I know it was…”

Tommy shakes his head. “No, sweetheart—don’t you ever apologize for that.” He used his free hand to thread his fingers through your hair, not dissimilar to the way you’d first touched him all those years ago. “You needed it. I needed it.” 

He wraps his arms around you and you lean in close, soaking up his warmth, his safety.

You share so much in one embrace—longing, lust, regret, forgiveness. And when he pulls away, it all fades into the ether, leaving nothing behind but this deeply rooted fondness for him, a desire for him to be happy above all else. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, come and find me. We live next to the daycare. Maria said to be there after nightfall tonight,” Tommy spoke, knocking his shoulder across your own playfully. “I hope you’re ready for a home-cooked meal. How long has it been?”

You stand, truly considering his question. Eating in the QZ wasn’t exactly pleasant. Typical meals consisted of stale bread and watered-down soup. You couldn’t even remember your last fresh meal.

“Too long,” you sighed. Tommy smirked, his warm smile making the skin of your cheeks burn.

“Soon enough. See you tonight.”

The day goes by quickly. You fill the empty space with exploration, walking through the greenhouses, around the buildings, and through the one currently being constructed in the northwest corner within the walls.

The people begin to emerge a little after midday, socializing with one another, smiles on their faces and ease in their shoulders. You see Jesse at one point while you’re walking the perimeter, checking for weak spots, and he waves at you and it feels so strangely normal that it startles you. 

When the sun begins to set behind the heavy clouds, you find the house beside the daycare and stand a few feet away. You can see through the open windows that you’re likely the last to arrive—and for a second, you consider turning back and running as far away as you can. 

Because beneath the yellow light, they all look so happy. Maria, Ellie, and someone else you can’t put a name to, all work together setting the table, six place settings with mismatched cutlery.

Joel and Tommy can be seen in the kitchen, sharing a few concerned looks between warm smiles, once in a while knocking the neck of their glass bottles together. They’re all at home here and have all curated a routine, a familiarity. 

And you know without a shadow of a doubt that if you walk in there, you’re going to disturb it. You’re going to break the tranquility they’ve worked towards, you’re going to be the odd one out, the sore thumb in their causal, familiar cacophony. No matter what, you’re not going to belong. 

The only hope you have is trudging through the unfamiliarity until it becomes familiar, hoping to integrate yourself into their already established lives. 

But after all you’ve done since leaving that cabin, after all the blood on your hands, is that the sort of thing you’ve earned?

It’s not. You know it. You turn to leave.

The front door swings open, yellow lighting silhouetting his familiar frame.

He must see the terror in your eyes, must see the flight response kicking in because he’s off the porch in a second and taking your hand in his. 

You’re shaking your head and your breath feels stuck in your throat, amassing into a stone of instinct that sits heavy on your chest. 

“Tell me,” is all Joel says.

The words come spilling out, mechanical, one after another. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve this. I don’t belong here. I’ve killed people. I’ve lied and stolen and—”

He takes your face in his strong grip and forces you to look at him, the sight of adoration in his eyes like a balm to your heart. “It doesn’t matter if we deserve it,” he says. “Do you want it?”

More than anything.

Tommy’s voice cuts through the intensity between you and Joel. “Dinner’s ready,” he says. “Come eat, sweetheart.”

You do. Maria’s made a whole platter; roast and vegetables and some sort of broth soup with rosemary. There’s red wine and whiskey and sweet tea. Joel sits beside you at the table. Ellie sits across from you, beside her girlfriend who you learn is named Dina.

They’re all incredibly nice, asking you questions about your life before Jackson, never pressing too much, sensing when a topic is brought up that you don’t particularly want to recall and quickly changing the conversation.

The chemistry flows far easier than you’d imagined it would. You find you even like Maria, and you especially like that fond look in her every time she glances over at Tommy. 

The food is delicious and you’re bringing a forkful of roast to your mouth when Dina asks, “So, how did you meet Joel and Tommy?”

The table goes quiet then, and Dina and Ellie share a confused glance. You chew slowly, hoping someone else will answer the question or, better yet, ask something else entirely. 

But then Ellie jokingly says, “What? Did guys kidnap her or something?”

You nearly choke, Tommy lets out a long breath, and Joel is stone still apart from the feathering of his jaw. Even Maria looks uncomfortable. 

Ellie sees the unsaid words and quietly mutters, “Oh shit.” She turns to Joel then, eyes narrowed into slits. “You kidnapped her?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you supply. “Not exactly. I stole from them first. Back when food was a lot more scarce.”

“So you held her captive,” Ellie corrects, unrelenting.

“A story for another day, maybe?” Maria suggests. “How’s the soup, El?”

You can tell she’ll circle back to the conversation the moment she can, but for now, Ellie lets it rest. And you’re thankful for it, because you’re not sure how to explain a moment of your time spent in that cabin even to yourself, let alone someone else.  

After dinner, you help Maria clean while the brothers drink beer out on the back porch and watch Ellie play guitar. From the kitchen you can see Dina stretched across the wooden floor, propped up against the rails of the porch. The sound of Ellie missing a couple of strings makes Maria hum in amusement. 

“Joel’s been teaching her for a couple of weeks now. She picks up quickly,” Maria informs you, taking a now cleaned dish from your hand to dry it. It didn’t feel weird, being around her, despite the fact that you had kissed her husband just a couple of hours ago. 

“Yeah. She seems like a good kid.”

Maria places the plate into the cabinet before turning to you. She leans against the counter, taking a moment to look you over. 

“You weren’t how I imagined you when Tommy told me about everything.”

Her words didn’t feel rude or passive-aggressive. They were more so honest, and revealing. 

“How did you imagine me?” you asked, continuing to wash the dirty dishes in the sink. Focusing on the soapy suds melting off the plate the more you scrubbed it distracted you from the conversation. You knew that Maria was trying to understand you, but it made you feel anxious either way.

Maria sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not so quiet. Fiery, like Ellie. I suppose you are, deep down, especially if both the Miller brothers like you.”

You used to have more of a spark inside of you, but over time, it had slowly fizzled out. You had killed too many people, done too many awful things. After your father was murdered, you lost the majority of the fire that was meant to burn in your chest. You learned how to be a drifter and not get attached, because getting attached meant losing them someday.

The only exception were the brothers who you could hear laughing loudly from the back porch. Even after all this time, after leaving them, they had found a place to call home where they could love freely. 

“They both care a lot about you. You had Joel pacing back and forth, wondering if you’d actually show up.”

A warm blush washed across your face and didn’t stop until it reached the bottom of your spine. Joel was waiting for you? How was it that he had shut you off, practically hated you all those years ago, but now, suddenly was worried about you? What had changed?

As if she could read your mind, Maria spoke. “Ellie helped him open up a lot. According to Tommy, she’s got that same spitfire energy as Sarah. Maybe back then, it wasn’t the right time. Joel was too far gone. But now, it could be different. You could take advantage of his weaknesses this go around if you think it would make you happy.”

You understood why Tommy loved Maria. She had created this town, a haven, and even cares about people she doesn’t know. She allowed her husband’s people to be her own.

“Maybe,” you agreed, focusing your attention back on washing the dishes. Maria didn’t pry and instead moved back into the pattern of taking clean dishes from your hands. 

Once you finished, you followed Maria onto the back porch, trailing through the sliding doors. Ellie and Dina were so focused on singing a Foo Fighters song that you hadn’t heard for years (that you were sure Joel introduced them to) that they didn’t notice your approach. Tommy and Joel did, Tommy smiling at Maria before extending his arms. She walked to where he was sitting and joined him, sitting on the edge of his lap. 

You were glad that you didn’t feel anything but happiness to watch the intimacy of the couple.

Joel’s eyes were watching you, dark and full of thoughts you wished you could understand. You wondered how he would react if you closed the space and sat on his lap - not that you had nearly enough courage.

“I think I’m gonna get ready to head home. I gotta organize the pantry in the morning,” you said, glancing over at the two girls who had moved on to singing some song you didn’t recognize.

All three of the Millers looked disappointed in your confession. “At least let me walk you back,” Joel begged, but you shook your head.

“No, stay. Don’t wanna miss out on this,” you said, glancing back over at Ellie and Dina singing. 

There was something like hurt that flashed across his face, but it didn’t linger long. 

“Feel free to come back any time,” Maria said.

“For anything,” Tommy adds. 

Joel says nothing, even though you linger there on the porch for several seconds, secretly hoping he would. But you nod silently, thank them for all their hospitality, and compliment Maria on the food, before parting ways to the soft sound of Ellie’s strumming on the guitar. 

For several days, you find yourself grappling with a decision. Should you stay, or should you do what feels most natural and flee? 

Fleeing would be what you’re used to. A rehearsed, calculated event. Premeditated. You’d been thinking about it from the moment you set foot in this place. Take a backpack full of supplies; food, medicine, water. You’d probably even get away with taking a horse and a couple of guns from the armory.

You’d do it first thing before the sun rises on a Sunday morning when the whole of Jackson is sleeping apart from the watchers on the walls. You wouldn’t say goodbye because you know Joel and Tommy both would convince you to stay. 

Instead, you’d leave a note on the table in your kitchen. One Saturday night you even sit there with a pen in your hand, but all you can manage to scribble down are the words I’m sorry. 

You trash it before sunrise. And that morning, Ellie stopped by to ask if you’d help her tend to the greenhouse. “It’s an eight-hour shift,” she explained. “Four with an extra set of hands. They have that dance going on tonight, down at the community hall. Dina really wants to go.”

Of course, you agree. And as the hours tick by, you understand Joel’s attachment to her. Ellie is probably the funniest kid you’ve ever met. Intuitive too, and so smart it’s jarring. You like her, mostly because she reminds you a little of yourself when you were her age. 

She talks briefly about her journey with Joel to Salt Lake City. Says he started out as this gruff, overbearing man, but towards the end, he was the only source of comfort remaining in her grasp. She says Joel saved her life but then gets really quiet for a while afterward. 

You don’t pry. The silence is comfortable, the dirt between the creases of your palms and beneath your fingernails is warm, and you realize that fleeing is going to hurt an awful lot more than you thought. 

After your shift in the greenhouse with Ellie, you begin to consider staying. Jackson is a good place, a safe place. One without the tyrannical rules of a standard QZ.

The following weekend, a fight breaks out between two men at the Tipsy Bison. One is drunk and sloppy and he has a knife strapped to his belt. You watch from a far distance as the drunken man stabs his opposition between the ribs, blood pooling in the mud beneath his feet. 

You don’t see Joel right away, too focused on the commotion that breaks out over the event, but the moment he steps in he’s hard to miss. He has that strong, domineering energy about him. He breaks up the fight in a second and has the man with the knife unclenching his fist, silver glinting in the pool of blood as the weapon drops to the ground.

Maria and Tommy arrive a short moment later and the man with the stab wound gets carted off to the infirmary. Joel towers over the man with blood on his hands but says not a single word.

You’re not sure why, and you’re too exhausted to attempt unpacking it, but the way he just… controls the situation so easily has your thighs pressing together.

Joel and Tommy take the man someplace, but you don't stay around long enough to find out where. You half expect them to make some scene of it; whippings in the center of the town, a public execution as a display of power. You’ve seen such things before in the QZs you’ve drifted through. 

But nothing like that happens, and all anyone can talk about is Rick’s miraculous recovery and what they plan to bring to him in the infirmary. 

You ask Jesse what happened to the drunken man who stabbed him, wondering if they killed him someplace away from prying eyes. 

Jesse laughs and shakes his head. “No, we didn’t kill him. He was exiled.”

You’re not sure why it surprises you, but it does. 

The next time you see Joel, he’s in the stables. The first taste of summer has presented itself, spring slowly giving way, the earth thawing further each day. He’s wearing a navy t-shirt that stretches tight across his biceps and a good-fitting pair of blue jeans, and you watch from a safe, non-conversational distance as he moves haybales from one end of the stables to another, making room for the new ones loaded into the back of Tommy’s truck. 

A light sheen of sweat coats his sun-kissed skin, and it makes your mouth water. All you can think about is that first time with him, how he’d gripped your hips with calloused fingertips, how he’d kissed your lips until they were swollen, how he’d pressed himself between your spread thighs.

You run home so fast you’re out of breath when you close the door, and the moment you make it up the stairs and to your room, you're slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your jeans to alleviate the ache that has settled and made a home between you legs. 

Telling yourself it was a fluke, you don’t think of it again. In fact, you try very hard not to think about that day in the cabin, you try not to think about the way he looked at you before leaving you and Tommy in the bed on that last day, you try not to think about the way his muscles flexed in the stables. 

You fill your time with chores. The greenhouse, watch, patrol, shifts at the Tipsy Bison. Anything that keeps your mind from Joel you greet with ready and willing hands.

But it happens again. Of fucking course it does.

It’s raining hard and has been for several days. The western wall begins to flood, and it’s an all-hands-on-deck situation, moving sandbags from one end of Jackson to the other. Everyone is running around, moving as fast as they can, piling them into the back of one person’s truck and then someone else’s the moment one pulls away. 

Maria woke you up in the middle of the night with a yellow raincoat in her hands, and of course, you didn’t waste a moment before you put on your sneakers and ran out the door with her. 

She stations you at the western wall with a handful of others, unloading the sandbags and stacking them as high as possible to detour the pooling water.

Joel stands two feet away from you, yelling orders over the sound of the rain, commanding the situation in that way of his. You’re shivering, even with your raincoat, and as Joel’s hand brushes yours when he helps you lift a sandbag onto the pile, it sends an electric jolt down your spine. “Jesus,” he huffs. “Here. Take off your jacket real quick.”

You do, in time with him as he removes his canvas coat, soaked through with water. He pulls his flannel off and hands it to you, and normally you would argue he needs it more considering your dry t-shirt, except you’re freezing.

The soft fabric is warm and it’s a little too big but it’s the most comfortable thing you’ve ever worn. It smells like him, like pine and rain and Joel. For a moment you consider not returning it back to him and adding it to your collection of clothes you’ve taken from him. But for now, you relish in its heat, in its softness. 

He goes right back to instructing others after shrugging his coat back on, as if the act of kindness was nothing, as if he’d give just anyone the shirt off his back. And maybe he would, but you’ve never stuck around long enough to find out. 

It’s still dark when you finish, sunrise still a while away. Maria and Tommy thank everyone for their help and send you home, telling everyone to try and get some extra sleep, that shifts will start an hour later than normal. 

You do as she says, noting the way the muscles in your back ache from strain but finding it strangely satisfying, feeling less like you’d lost sleep and more like you’d protected something that was worth protecting. 

Joel’s flannel remains on as you climb back into bed. And though you’re exhausted, all you can think about enveloped in his scent is how he would feel beside you, on top of you, between your legs. Heavy and warm, strong and so incredibly safe.

It doesn’t even feel like there’s a choice when you wiggle your fingers beneath the elastic of your panties. And even though it only takes a matter of minutes to make yourself reach the pinnacle of bliss, it feels unsatisfying. Like it’s not enough, like it’ll never be enough.

You still wear Joel’s flannel while on patrol with Jesse later in the day. You vow to return it, promising yourself this is your chance to change. To be a better person, to reinvent yourself here in Jackson, to stop running, to stop thieving. 

But you don’t return it. Several days go by and you practically live in the goddamn thing.

You lost count of how many times you squirmed against your pillow with the flannel pressed against your lips, imagining that Joel was there. 

“Just like that, baby girl,” Joel would say gruffly, his strong palms pressed against your thighs to make your hips rock. “Missed listenin’ to those little moans.”

If you squeezed your eyes closed just enough, you could feel him on you, guiding you. You prayed that he still thought about you, but you were scared to know what it meant if he did. It would mean that Joel reciprocated your lust, your feelings.

One evening you walked past Joel’s house after a long, tiring day of helping create concrete for the expansion of the South wall. The summer project was to create space for new houses. Jackson was growing day by day, getting stronger. 

You stopped outside the concrete steps, looking at the path to the front door. Would you have the courage to walk up that intimidating trail and knock on Joel’s front door? Would you have the courage to ask him to kiss you, to show you how much he missed you?

Your question was answered once Joel’s front door opened, and a dark-haired woman stepped out. She was turned back, telling Joel something that you couldn’t quite make out. The steps of your sneakers crunched across the gravel of the road, your feet carrying you as far away from Joel’s house as possible. 

One last glance back allowed you to witness the faraway silhouette of Joel passing something over to the woman, something that you were much too far away to see. You had done something stupid again - assumed that Joel was single. You weren’t trying to jump to conclusions but Tommy was married after all. It would make sense that Joel had found someone too, someone to settle down and raise Ellie with. 

The happiness that you felt seeing Tommy and Maria together was not what you felt when watching Joel with another woman. A big, ugly, green monster bubbled inside of you and threatened to crawl out of your throat. 

You hated this feeling. You hated it so much that you’d ended up going to Joel’s house later that, shortly after his bedroom light had turned off. The streets were completely empty except for the night shift patrollers walking towards their posts, the day saying its last goodbyes in the same way you meant to. A basket with Joel’s flannel and his original jacket from fifteen years ago was left on his porch. They were rejected and discarded, like how you felt. 

The basket mocked you when you walked away from his porch, a visceral reminder of what you were actually returning. Your devotion. 

It was impossible to sleep that night, too many rampant thoughts running wildly through your head. You stayed up the remainder of the night, a scratchy wool blanket tucked beneath your chin as you sat on the couch.

The moonlight streamed in through your living room window, painting colorful silvers and purples across the peeling walls. It was eerily peaceful to watch the earth sleep.

A stark opposite to the peaceful moonlight was the sudden rough knocks banging against your front door. You couldn’t help the way you jumped up, your bloodshot eyes glancing over to watch the wooden frame shake with each knock. 

You move over the back of your couch to glance out the front window to see who is pounding at your door. The top of your head peeks over the blanket, your eyes straining to see. It’s Joel, of course, it’s Joel, and seeing him with that frantic look in his eye has your heart in your throat.

When you open the door to ask what he wants, you see both his flannel and his coat clutched in a knuckle-white grip. “Is this your way of saying goodbye?” 

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” You open your mouth to speak but he raises his free hand and stops you. “An’ don’t lie to my face, don’t…don’t look at me and tell me you’re staying just to disappear in the middle of the night.” There’s a kind of aggression in his voice you’ve never heard before, even when he shot you. “You’re leaving.”

It’s not a question this time. And you know he’s reliving it, remembering every moment in that cabin, the same way you’ve been since setting foot in Jackson.

The urge to comfort him rises in you, to promise to stay, but you can’t. Not when all you can see is that dark-haired woman on his doorstep. So, you swallow thickly and cast your eyes away, staring at the clothes you’d return instead. “It doesn't matter. Keep them, Joel.”

“It does matter,” he insists. “How can you say that?” He pushes into your house, this desolate place that suddenly comes to life with him in it. “After everything we’ve done, after everything we’ve seen… it matters. This place matters. You —”

Your breath catches at his near confession. It’s the first you’ve heard it from anyone, and the young girl you were fifteen years ago silently begs for him to finish it. She begs to be seen, cared for, and loved. 

But you’ve spent so long shoving her into a box in your heart that it’s second nature when you do it this time. Joel shakes his head. He begins to speak, stops, and tries again. “I…you…”

“What, Joel?”

He runs an exasperated hand down his face. Whatever it is he’s trying to say is bothering him, an irritation dug in deep like a tick. “Don’t…”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s none of your business, yet you still find yourself crossing your arms over your chest and saying, “Should you even be here right now? Isn’t there someone else you should be giving the pleasure of your company to?”

Confusion sinks in quickly. “What are you talking about?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, so I can’t lie to you but it’s fine if you lie to me? Typical, Joel. You’ve always been a hypocrite.”

"Hypocrite? What are you talking about? I’m here, trying to convince you to stay in Jackson because it’s safe. Even if you want nothing to do with me, if you want me to…to stay far away, that’s fine. But this place needs people like us and we need it.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel—I saw her. Don’t fucking play dumb.”

“Saw who? ”

You throw your hands up, anger rising to the surface of your skin. “I don’t know! And I don’t want to know! She was leaving your house with a really big smile yesterday so I guess I should say congrats, right? To you and Tommy both, for finding whatever it was you were looking for in me fifteen years ago.”

Joel shakes his head. “No, no—you’ve got this all wrong. It’s not like that.”

“Right,” you say indignantly. “Because that’s believable.”

He closes the space between you and wraps his hand around your elbow, holding tight enough to bruise. Joel stares at you with his eyes filled with intensity, so much of it that you actually start to believe him when he says so quietly, “There’s been no one. No one since you.”

“Oh, so it’s just the start I interrupted then? My bad, Joel, should I apologize?”

“Will you stop?” His jaw ticks, and you can see his irritation as it rises, a near palpable thing. His neck flushes, and his eyes narrow. “She’s Dina’s mom. She came over to meet me formally since Ellie’s been staying over there so often. She doesn’t mean anything. Not like…”

“Like what, Joel?”

“Not like you,” he finally says. It feels like a breath of fresh air, and you think he must feel that way, too. Because his grip on your elbow loosens, his shoulders drop, and his eyes soften instantly. “You…you mean something. To me. An’ I don’t…I want you to stay. I’m…I’m askin’ you to stay. Please.”

In all your life, in all the places you’ve passed through…not once has anyone ever asked you to stay. Not once has anyone seen you like this, seen and known you well enough to know when you’re tempted and have enough time to deter your decision. 

Well, until now. Until Joel. 

“Don’t do that,” you say, shaking your head, trying to clear the moisture that pools in the corner of your eyes. 

He takes your face in his hands, calloused palms rough and warm against the tender skin of your jaw. “Stay,” he says. And again, softer this time, a plea. “ Stay.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t give me false hope.”

Joel presses his forehead to yours. “I mean it,” he promises, and you want so badly to believe it, so you do. “Do you have any idea how long I looked for you? And even when I stopped lookin’ I saw you everywhere. Saw you in everything. That first winter without you…Christ, couldn’t think about anythin’ else.”

All you manage to say is his name like an escaped breath. Your skin prickles at his closeness, and you’ve never been good at resisting your impulses so you don’t even try to keep yourself from pressing your lips to his. 

His hands slide into your hair, pulling you in closer, his tongue running across your bottom lip. You grant him access in the form of a moan that he echoes the moment he tastes the inside of your mouth. 

You forget everything. Everything. All you know is the way this feels, and you suddenly think that maybe all this time you weren’t running from anything. Maybe you’ve been running to him. 

“It’s always been you,” he says against your lips. His hands trail down your spine, gently caressing your soft curves.

The pad of his thumb brushes against the bare expanse of your spine where the smallest bit of your shirt has ridden up, but you feel the touch like lightning skittering across your skin. You wrap your hands around his neck, anchoring yourself against him, and it feels like second nature when he pulls you closer and lifts you off your feet. 

In fifteen years nothing has changed—you still melt against him, defenses giving way, legs wrapping around his waist. You break the kiss long enough to whimper direction, saying, “The bedroom is upstairs, second door—”

“On the left, I know. Tommy and I fixed it up a couple months ago. Talked about you the whole time,” he says. And you’re not sure why but the knowledge has your heart flipping in your chest.

It’s almost like he knew, like they both did. Like they could feel you somehow, out there, wandering, finding your way back to them.

Joel lays you down and strips your clothes off slowly, fingers familiarizing themselves with every inch of your skin as if he’s learning it for the first time. He kisses your lips until they’re swollen, leaves marks in the shape of his mouth down your chest, and leaves moisture from his tongue over the hardened peaks of your nipples.

When he parts your thighs and tastes you, he’s still fully clothed. And you begin to feel exposed, like the two of you are standing on uneven terrain, but then he lets out a feral-sounding moan and you think maybe he’s suffered in your absence even more than you yourself have. 

His tongue is soft and hot and makes your back bend off the mattress. Twice he makes you come undone with nothing but his mouth. And when he rises to his knees, peering over you, he looks sated. Relieved, somehow. As if being this close to you has healed him, stitched up some long-opened wound. 

Unhurried, he begins to discard his clothes onto the floor beside yours. His flannel first, and then his t-shirt, and you let out a pathetic moan as you drink in the sight of him. His scarred, masculine hands working at the metal buckle of his black leather belt, his toned arms and his soft tummy, and that trail of thick, dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans. 

Everything about him ignites you, calling to you like some sort of beacon. Your skin prickles as he discards the remainder of his clothes. 

And before you have a chance to speak aloud your fervent need, he’s settling between your thighs and pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. He cradles your face in his hands, gently smoothing your hair away from your face, and there’s so much devotion in his voice that it makes you tremble as he says, “You were made for me, little girl. Do you know that?”

You think you do. You think you’ve always known it, always known that whatever god-like, mystical being that resides in this world had crafted you with Joel in mind. All you can do is nod and bask in the moment, in the sanctity of your creation, in the wickedness of his. Carefully, he pushes his cock into you. 

The stretch is painful at first, even with how wet he’s made you. But it’s a bearable pain, a sweet ache, especially with the way he whispers in your ear and presses soft kisses to your cheek with each breath. “S’okay, you can take it. I know you can. See? There you go. So fuckin’ proud of you, baby. You’re so perfect. Perfect for me.”

Joel rocks his hips against yours at a gradual pace. There’s nothing rushed about it, no aggression in his movements. It’s so different from the last time but the change in him just brings the two of you closer. Your orgasm builds like a fire in your belly, burning more and more with each thrust, heightened by the gruff moans that escape him, by the pressure of his body on top of yours. 

He’s so warm and he feels like home. A sensation you’ve never felt since leaving that cabin, a safety like you’ve never known since. You love him. You forgive him. And so you tell him.

And as the words escape your lips, as you make that final confession that will alter the course of your life forever, his breath stutters in his chest, and that fire that’s been building in your belly reaches its full height, flames licking at your skin. He says, “I love you, too, little girl,” and it tips you over the precipice.

You reach the high of bliss together, at the same exact time, and everything but this feeling fades into nothing. All that remains is you and Joel and this otherworldly closeness. There’s nothing left to forgive, nothing left to navigate. As one, singular soul, you simply are. 

He takes the time to clean you up afterward. You shower together, and he massages body wash into your skin, relieving the ache from your muscles. You don’t ask him to stay because you don’t need to; he just does. Because he knows you like no one else ever has. 

You fall asleep quickly. It’s late and you’re exhausted, but for the first time in fifteen years, you feel stable. He holds you through the night. 

But when he shifts just slightly, it wakes you a few hours before sunrise. His eyes are wide open and bloodshot, clearly straining to stay awake.

Shifting on your elbow to lean up, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

Joel just shakes his head and gives you a small smile. “Nothing,” he says. “Just go back to sleep. Get some rest.”

It’s clearly a lie. Something is tugging at him, and you’re determined to fix it. “Tell me,” you say.

He hesitates for a moment, working over his words in his head. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and tries again. And then he says quietly, unable to look you in the eye, “I wanted to be able to talk you out of leaving. If you changed your mind again.”

The words break your heart, cracking open your ribcage and allowing a trace of bitterness to settle there. It’s your fault, you know. Your fault he worries about you leaving so much, that he allots time to talk you down from a ledge you’re not quite sure even exists anymore. You swallow down the tears that threaten and crawl into his lap. You kiss his face a hundred times, leaving no space untouched until you’re both quietly laughing. “You can sleep easy tonight,” you say.

He nods as if he believes you, but you can tell there’s still anxiety lingering within him. It’s quiet for a long time. He just holds you tightly, arms wrapped around your middle. You think he may have fallen asleep, but then he whispers into your hair, “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Just don’t leave me behind again. Please.”

It’s a plea. He’s begging, in his own way. You kiss him hard, and in only moments he’s snoring with his arms locked around you.

You only wiggle out of his grip when the sun rises, yellow and orange hues cast across your bedroom through the glass pane of the window. You pull Joel’s t-shirt over your head and make your way down the stairs as quietly as you can.

This will be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. You know it will be. You know Joel will pull things out of you you’ve been shoving down deep, know he’ll poke and prod in an attempt to heal all within you that’s been broken. 

Because that’s the kind of man he is; one who takes care of those he loves, who sacrifices his own comfort for others. You don’t deserve someone like him and you know it. No matter how much you forgive, no matter how many times you try to wash your hands clean, you know it’ll never be enough for his devotion. 

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, eyes glued to the front door. It would be easy to leave, you know. Second nature. Instinctual. You wouldn’t have to face all you’ve done, wouldn’t have to unearth all you’ve buried, wouldn’t have to open that closet with all those skeletons. 

Hands trembling, you try to catch your breath. Try to make that final decision, try to forgive a little more. Not to forgive Tommy or Joel, but to forgive yourself. 

The longer you stand there in the kitchen, the less you believe you’ll ever possess that sort of absolution.

But it’s worth a try, isn’t it? To find mercy in a place it’s never existed.

You take a slow breath.

And then you put on a pot of coffee.

taglist; @arizonadreamingg @sirendyes @untamedheart81 @pinkiec6-rubi @galway-girlatwork

[manikas-whims]

hi lovely, first of all i wanna wish u a good day and i hope everything is going good!

i was cooking in the background but got to a block here, and i would like to know ur opinion on this:

lets say sylus (pre - relationship) somehow messes up bad with reader, to the point they distance themselves from onychinus. how do you think he would react and make up? I feel like he would observe from afar and then go ahead try to talk to them, but i have no clue what he would say, whats ur perspective?

tysm for ur work and im so proud to see u grow as a writer ❤️ byebye lovely!

Hiii! I've been wanting to respond to this for so long.. I'm just so tired by the time I'm home these days 😭

And I'm glad you think I've grown a little as a writer 🥺 means so much to me ♡ so sorry it took so long..🙏

As for the ask itself..

If Pre-relationship Sylus messes up,

then you'll definitely distance yourself from him and Onychinus itself because you still don't know him that well. He did abduct you from the auction and held you in captivity in his base. So of course it's quite difficult for you to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And Sylus seems to be the kind of person who doesn't easily takes offense to people judging him based on his line of work. But he'll definitely get mad because you aren't just some random person to him. He'll be disappointed because all it took was one mistake for you to judge him so harshly? Instead of treating him like every other person and giving him a chance?! He'd think you're just like the rest of the people who form an assumption of him based on his appearance itself. To think, he even bothered making an effort..

Thus, there's no communication between the two of you for at least 2–3 days..Not even Mephisto cawing and poking his cute, lil mechanical beak at your window 😞

And this leads to you getting even more angry at Sylus cause LOOK AT THE AUDACITY OF THIS MAN!!! He made a mistake and now doesn't even bother explaining himself!? Doesn't even try to fix this mess!? Yeah..you should've known..he truly is like every other person from N109. It's your fault for being foolish enough to believe he might have any humanity behind those glowing crimson eyes.

But after the passage of those 2–3 days, you finally begin to sort through your thoughts and feelings.

You also start seeing some familiar faces around your apartment. Luke and Keiran do drop a bunch of packages full of clothes, accessories and other luxurious items you could barely afford on your Hunter's paycheck. Nevertheless you reject them all, and even yell at them. “Tell your stupid Boss he can't simply buy my forgiveness!”

There are moments when you just consider forgetting everything and make up but you resist the urge because that would only encourage him. He'll think he can get away with anything if you're so lenient. And so you suffer his absence for the entire week, slowly coming to believe that you weren't important to him at all..

But Sylus is a mature guy despite whatever his reputation suggests. He'll be mad for a while and put off but he'll come to terms with the fact that he made a mistake. And now after giving you ample amount of time and space to sort through your own feelings, he'll finally decide to randomly show up one day at your door, completely shocking you when you answer the door.

Before you can yell at him or push him to leave, he mumbles in a gruff tone. “I’m sorry.”

To say that you are shocked would be an understatement for it's not everyday that the dreaded leader of Onichynus utters an apology to someone. Men like him are used to making people bend their knees and grovel. Used to exacting apologies out of others instead.

You blink several times before asking. “What did you just say? I didn't quite catch it.”

His brow narrows and he scrunches his nose in that way he does whenever met with an obstacle. Sighing, he repeats his words. “I said I'm sorry..for what I did. For giving you a wrong impression and ticking off all the boxes of suspicions in your head. For showing you something that I'm not.” He pockets his hands– a sure sign of awkwardness– and cocks his head to the side. “And I vow to make it up to you.”

Out of nowhere, Mephisto comes flying, perches upon his shoulder and croaks loudly in support of his master.

You try your best to hide the smile threatening to burst upon your face. You'd forgiven him on his first apology itself because one glance at him made you realize how much you'd actually been missing him and his stupidly handsome face.

Still, in an effort to tease him a little, you tilt your head and say. “Hmm..I'll consider forgiving you if you repeat your words once more. On your knees.”

There is a brief pause in which you almost believe he will do it. His expression seems as if he is actually considering it. Then, he scoffs at you and flicks your forehead.

“Don't push your luck, sweetie.”

And you laugh in delight, punching his abdomen lightly. “Fine fine, let's start again.”

You smile and offer him a hand. He looks at it, his crimson eyes roving up to gaze at you, then he accepts your hand, and shakes it. “As you say, sweetie.”

hope you liked this lil piece ♡

» MASTERLIST «

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Making Up For Lost Time - Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Based on the following two requests:

can we get an enemies to lovers with edmund that has smut in it??

PLEASEE an edmund smut,, preferably something with a risk of getting caught? or not bb i don’t mind- but a lot of dirty talking too 🤭

It's not necessarily enemies to lovers? But I really hope you enjoy it, this is probably my favorite thing I've written thus far.

Summary: You and Edmund are definitely feeling the effects of your arranged marriage.

Warnings: Language, Smut, not proofed!

Female reader

You couldn't take much more of him, nor him you. The both of you knew why the marriage had to happen, Narnia couldn't risk another war, and Calormen was losing resources due to the Great Desert. As a compromise, Peter, Caspian, and Susan met with Prince Rabadash to secure a compromise. A truce between the kingdoms and a new way for the resources to be traded was sealed with the promise of a marriage between you and Edmund.

And neither of you was happy with it.

It didn't help that you had shared chambers either. You and Edmund had asked The High Kings and Queen about a switch in rooms but they only pushed further.

"Imagine what the people would think if the newlyweds weren't sharing a room?" So you were forced to live with him. Fall asleep next to him each night, and wake by his side every morning.

Granted, Edmund wasn't intolerable. He just wasn't tolerable either. He was a handsome man, sure, but that face also came with his quick wit and sharp tongue, two things you'd grown to loathe.

He'd challenge you, yes. But his tone of speech was never rude or condescending. But the biggest thing you hated about him, he was always so charming. So sweet. So fair.

He didn't earn the title of The Just King for nothing. But it just added fuel to the fire.

He'd always let you use the bath chambers first, and never complained or protested when you took longer baths.

He didn't pressure you to do anything on your wedding night. He simply kept to himself, offering you a smile and a "goodnight" from his side of the bed. You had been told what was to come, your mind was full of stories from other women in your life. Horror stories.

"It is ever so painful."

"Not pleasurable at all!"

"I can hardly wait until it's over!"

Needless to say, when your new husband had simply wished you a good night and went to sleep, you were surprised. The next morning you woke by his side, finding it odd that he had barely moved an inch. You were basically in the middle of the large bed, Edmund sleeping soundly on the edge, right where he was the night before. You were gone before he'd woken up.

Edmund never failed to greet you kindly, entering the room quietly just in case you had decided to take a nap. He never raised his voice to you either.

Was he snarky and sassy? Of course. But he had always treated you and your family with kindness and respect. It was insufferable. Sometimes you wished he'd just be rude so you would have a real reason to hate him, aside from the fact that he was your husband but you never seemed to communicate. You had gotten used to the fact that there would never be any sort of friendship, let alone a relationship, between you and Edmund, so you resorted to hating him.

The only time he'd gotten angry with you was when you hadn't returned to the bedroom one evening. Unbeknownst to you, he began searching frantically for you, creating quite a stir in the grand castle, only to find you asleep in the library. He cursed to himself before picking your sleeping form up in his arms and bringing you back to your room.

You woke up that morning in bed, confused at first about your location, but relaxing when you saw Edmund's sleeping form next to you.

As you rolled out of bed and made your way to the bathroom you heard his voice.

"Don't do that again." You froze, turning around. His dark eyes were on yours and he was very much not asleep.

"Do what?" He sat up, giving you a view of his very shirtless torso. You averted your eyes immediately.

"Not come back." Your confusion brought your eyes to him again. His lanky, but well-built frame, was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What?" He rose from the bed, a hand running through his dark hair. You stare at him while he walks toward you, stopping less than a foot away from you.

"You didn't come back last night. Don't do that again." He brushed your cheek with his hand, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss there too. You could feel your cheeks heating at the proximity. The last time he'd been this close to you was your wedding. He hadn't touched you since then either.

He pulled away quickly, stepping around you.

"Did you bring me back?" You turned your head to face him.

"Yes."

...

That night, there was a ball between the great nations. Narnia was the gracious host to Archenland, the Conglomeration of Nations, Ettinsmoor, and of course, Calormen.

You hadn't seen Edmund since the morning. You had been whisked away by maids to get ready for the celebration. The ball was for you and Edmund, another party after the wedding you guessed.

You were dressed in a gorgeous light blue gown with intricate white floral stitching and lace along the neckline. It was gorgeous. The long sleeves were fitted and the back laced up like a corset. Your hair had been fixed down with small braids throughout as to not disrupt the crown you'd also be adorning for the evening.

Then, you were whisked away to the celebration, the guests awaiting the arrival of the newlyweds. Edmund was waiting in the corridor, dressed in the same light blue as you, his silver crown on top of his head. He looked very handsome, more so than usual, and suddenly your thoughts were filled with images of you and Edmund dancing together, of Edmund touching you, his large hand on your waist, maybe even his lips on yours.

"M'Lady?"

You blinked, eyes meeting his. What had he just called you?

"Y-yes?"

"I said are you ready to go in?" Your cheeks heated once again and you nodded, looking away from him. He chuckled and then he laced his fingers through yours, effectively making your heart stop.

...

As soon as your introductions were over, you slipped away from Edmund's side. The thoughts kept popping up in your brain. Why did you keep thinking these thoughts? Edmund didn't want to marry you, let alone consummate the marriage, so why did your brain keep doing this? You hid yourself well by the banquet table, keeping away from the crowds.

"Queen Y/N?" You turned at the use of your title, looking at the sheer opposite of your husband. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes was staring at you with a dazzling smile. You found yourself preferring Edmund's dark hair, brown eyes, and ever-present smirk.

"Hello..."

"I am Prince Cor of Archenland. It is very nice to meet you, M'Lady."

You had to stop yourself from reacting to the name Edmund had called you only an hour before. You'd much preferred it coming from his mouth than Prince Cor. Oh now you'd done it. This poor Prince was trying to make small talk with you and now you were thinking about your husband's mouth? The blush creeping over your cheeks and shoulders was enough for you to shake yourself out of your thoughts.

"It is nice to meet you too, your Highness."

As you and Cor began to make conversation, Edmund's wondering eyes found you. His hand tightened around the goblet he'd been holding and his gaze narrowed.

"Who is that?" He hadn't even noticed he was interrupting his brother.

"Who is who?" Peter replied.

"The bloke flirting with my wife, that's who." Peter held back a laugh.

"Ed, I hardly think Prince Cor would flirt with Y/N, this is your marriage celebration after all. Besides, she wouldn't flirt with someone else so shamelessly."

Edmund wasn't even listening and was halfway across the ballroom before his brother could finish speaking.

"I really do believe that astronomy is one of the most interesting subjects one can learn about-" The Just King interrupted the blonde prince, swiftly interjecting himself into the conversation.

"Hello, My Love." Your face burned at the new name. Then he turned your face to his and kisses your cheek. You could feel your heart in your ears and you looked down, suddenly interested in the floor. "May I ask what you and Prince Cor are talking about?" The blonde man looked uncomfortable.

"We were speaking-"

"I believe I asked my wife, not you." Cor lowered his head in a nod in return, quickly and quietly exiting the conversation. If looks could kill, Prince Cor would have been dead on the ballroom floor in mere seconds from Edmund's piercing glare.

You began to slip away from your husband before his strong hand wrapped around your arm and gently tugged you back. His front was lightly pressed against your back, his head lowered so he could speak into your ear.

"And where do you think you're going?" His voice sent shivers down your spine. His hand trailed up your arm, resting where your shoulder meets your collar bone, visible from the Sabrina neckline of your dress. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

What? Were you dreaming?

"Because it's working, darling."

Edmund's hand grasps yours again and he begins to lead you out of the room, desperate to get you alone. It isn't until you are outside of the boisterous party that you speak.

"Where are we going?" Edmund stops to look around, before ushering you into a corridor adjacent to the party. "Edmund!"

"Shh!" His hand covers your mouth and he presses his front to yours, making sure you are silent and unseen as guests walk past the hall. He looks at you and almost melts at the beautiful, wide eyes looking up at him. He removes his hand from your mouth, placing it on the wall by your head. You don't even register that the other is on your waist.

You speak gently, making sure your voice is hushed.

"Edmund, why are you jealous?" Your husband takes a deep breath before glancing down the hallway. "Ed?" Your hand timidly reaches up to bring his face back to yours and his eyes widen at the contact.

"You were talking to another man. At the celebration of our wedding."

You had to stifle your shock.

"Edmund, you are my husband, you have no reason to be jealous of a prince from a neighboring kingdom." His lips quirk up a bit.

"How can I not be when you are showing more interest in anyone else but me? I am your husband and you are my wife. I should be by your side tonight." His words are so surprising and you are glad for the wall behind you, and the man in front of you, for the extra support to stand.

"I thought you would want your space."

"Why in Aslan's name would you think that?" You look at him again, taking him in completely, the way he looks in the blue fabric, his dark hair framing his face with that godforsaken crown making him look better than he had a few hours ago. "Y/N, why do you think I wouldn't want to be near you?" His eyes search yours and you blink away, far too flushed under his heavy gaze.

"You haven't ever wanted to before." The words hit him like bricks.

"What?"

The words begin to spill out before you can stop them.

"You always sleep on your side with your back to me, you are always gone when I wake up, I never see you except when you come to get ready for bed, and on our wedding night you didn't..." You push through the embarrassment. "You didn't even touch me. I know this marriage isn't what we had wanted but I thought that maybe we might have been friends-" Edmund cuts off your monologue with a kiss. Your first kiss since your wedding night.

His hand moves from the wall to your neck and the other pulls you to his body, needing to get closer to you.

Your body reacts immediately, melting into the kiss, hands resting on his waist.

It ends too soon, Edmund pulling away first, putting his hand back on the wall while he catches his breath, but the other remained on your waist.

"You think I don't want to be near you?" He stares at you with an incredulous look on his handsome face. The closeness of his face to yours is enough to make you blush, again. "Darling, I haven't..." He takes a moment to breathe, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I didn't touch you that night because I didn't want to hurt you. I'm so bloody drawn to you that I have to sleep on the opposite side of the bed turned away from you so I don't taint your virtue. I leave in the morning because-"

Your hand covers his mouth as another rowdy group of guests wanders by the corridor. You wait for them to leave before speaking again, keeping your hand plastered onto his face.

"So, you don't hate me?"

He shakes his head.

No.

"You never did?"

No.

You remove your hand from his mouth and the two of you just stare at each other. Unmoving. It feels like minutes pass before he covers your mouth with his again.

His hand returns to your neck, pulling you to him once more.

"I'm sorry I ever made you think I didn't want you. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I am the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife."

"Edmund..." The kind words hit you straight in the heart.

"And now, it seems I have something I have to make up for." His smirk appears and it sends your insides to mush.

"But Edmund I-"

"Shhhh." He smiles, his head dipping to yours. "Don't want to get caught, now do we?" He kisses you again, this one full of heat and passion, the lack of contact between you only adding fuel to the fire.,

Edmund pulls your body flush against his and groans into your mouth. You falter at the glorious sound but he is there to support you

His kisses travel down your neck to your collarbones.

"Edmund... What are you doing?"

"Making up for lost time, darling." He grins at you again. "Now be quiet." He kisses you again, his sneaky hands running down your sides to your skirt. He breaks the kiss to look down, his hands pulling the fabric up to your waist.

"Fuck." Your eyes went wide. You'd never heard Edmund use that kind of language before. His eyes lock on yours again.

He looks perfect. He's a king. Your king. Your husband.

"Are you ok with this?" You nod yes multiple times, making him smirk yet again, and then you gasp at the contact of his fingers against your womanhood. Your hands grip his shoulders for support, his muscles tensing at the fact that you are touching him. That he is touching you. His fingers find no resistance due to the effects of his words and his ego grows. You bury your face into his shirt when his fingers slip into you. Though foreign, it is an immensely pleasurable feeling and you can't help but want more.

Then he begins to move them. You push further into him to silence your mouth, the feeling far too wonderful to not have a vocal effect.

But then his thumb brushes on something that makes you let out a loud moan. Your face flushes in embarrassment.

"Do you want everyone to know that I'm defiling you in the hallway?"

Oh dear, you're afraid his words combined with whatever he is doing with his fingers are going to kill you.

He repeats the same action but kisses you once more, your moans muffled.

Edmund can tell you are getting close, you've begun to shake, you're gasping into his mouth, and you are practically rutting into his hand. He makes the conscious decision to break the kiss to suck on your neck, covering your mouth with his free hand to silence any escaping sounds. Then, his thumb presses up again and his fingers hook inside of you and you convulse around him.

He is in awe of how gorgeous you are and what he'd just done.

As you catch your breath, your trembling hands find the waistband of his trousers and gently begin unbuttoning them, eager for more. His eyes avert to what you're doing and he curses again. You falter.

"Do-do you want me to stop?" His head shakes back and forth.

"I think I'd die if you did, love."

Edmund begins kissing your neck once again while you free him from the confinement of his tight pants and you gasp. He laughs into your neck, sending goosebumps throughout your entire body.

"Don't get shy on me now, darling. You wanted this, right?" You nod and feel him smile into your skin.

He makes quick work of your undergarments, tossing them to the side, lining himself up with your lower half.

He halts and you look into his eyes, body shaking in need and anticipation for what you had been so scared of on your wedding night.

With your eyes on his, he pushes into you, stopping when you push against him.

"Are you alright?" His voice is next to your ear.

"Just one second." Edmund waits, trying to distract himself from the way your body is clenching around him. Your small voice brings him back to reality. "Edmund."

"Yes?" You notice the rasp in his voice, the strain in his muscles. To ease him, you follow your instincts and roll your hips against his and his hands grip your hips in response, stifling the moan wanting to leave his throat.

"Fuck. Y/N. You can't do that." It's your turn to smirk. You do it again and he presses your body back into the wall. The soft grip on your hips tightens and his eyes meet yours, blown with lust. Then, they narrow at the smirk on your lips. "Oh, so you think that's funny do you?" He begins to slide out of you and your eyes roll backwards. Then he slams back in.

The moan that escapes your lips sets a fire in him and his hand claps back over your mouth.

"How many times do I need to tell you to be quiet?" He begins to move his hips again, the feeling ten times more wonderful than just his fingers. "Is this what you wanted?" You can barely comprehend his hushed words. "Is that why you were flirting with him? To make me jealous so I'd finally touch you?" His free hand worms its way back to the apex of your thighs, finding that place that made you squirm in no time. "You're lucky I love you." You don't even register his words as you come undone.

Edmund follows behind, pushing into you one last time before falling into you. His breathing is labored and the two of you don't speak while you catch your breath.

"Edmund!" Your heads snap toward the sound of Peter yelling his name.

"Dammnit!" He quickly makes himself presentable and you follow suit, making sure your hair isn't wild and your skirts are back in place. He takes your hand, smiling at you, before leading you back out of the hallway.

"Edmund!" Peter's back was to you.

"Peter, stop yelling, I'm right here!" The High King turns around, a glare present on his face.

"Your guests are wondering where the two of you have been! You disappeared thirty minutes ago! Get back inside, now."

Edmund doesn't reply to his bother, opting for an eye roll instead. Then he turns to you offering you a bow.

"Shall we get back to the celebration, my queen?" You giggle.

"Let's."

...

Peter may have overreacted just a bit because the only people wondering where the two of you had gone was him.

Edmund pulled you to the ballroom floor, his arms draped around your waist. You settled yours around his shoulders with a smile. The rest of the party seemed to disappear as he bent down to place a soft kiss against your lips.

You rest your head against his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I love you too."

AHHHHH! Y'all I'm really proud of this and hope you enjoy it. :)

[sillygoofyqueer]

sorry i send you so many asks i might as well go live in your inbox BUT pangolin!shen yuan is SO CUTE (panyuan? shen yuangolin?), i know he LOVES climbing on wei qingwei's broad shoulders and traveling to the peaks, listening to wei qingwei talk endlessly about all the peak lords and cultivators and their swords.

as a pangolin he has no job or anything so he'd wander off to watch liu qingge train, standing there with his little paws held together in that adorable pangolin way. maybe some bai zhan kids try to kick him and liu qingge immediately punts them to the other side of the field bc everyone knows that if you mess with the pangolins, you mess with wan jian peak, and you really don't want that. or shen yuan goes to qian cao peak to watch mu qingfang work his medicine magics. an ding peak is definitely the best place for treats, esp shang qinghua who just plops a whole bag of nuts and seeds in front of him when he visits.

also he'd hide behind wei qingwei's legs, little claws clinging to his robes like a tiny scaly child whenever shen qingqiu comes by for disciple swords, because that man is intimidating and everyone is so freaking tall when you're only 80 cm long.

shen yuan has also 100% bitten people.

You've actually fallen for my trap that I set out purely to lure you into my inbox and now you're trapped here forever and ever and we WILL be having tea parties every week. Sorry. You're my friend now, that's basically what I'm like with my friends. I've just realised that I'm basically atticwifing you....but platonically. ANYWAY. Shen Yuan absorbs so much information from Wei Qingwei's rambles, even squeaking and offering little sounds to ensure that the peak lord knows that he is listening! While the rest of the sect have gotten used to this little limpet hanging onto WQW, visitors are like "is one of your peak lords actually insane" and the peak lords are like "nah just watch this" and they listen as SY seemingly RESPONDS to something WQW has said with a questioning sort of hum. Shocked Pikachu faces all around. Also, I love to think about a couple of the more spiteful, spoiled disciples of one of the peaks ganging up on poor pangolin SY because they think they're above the consequences of their actions. SY stumbles his way back to Wan Jian Peak, where he is met by WQW. The man is. Very gentle. as he treats the pangolin's wounds. Then he turns his attention to finding who has done this to his precious little pet, and all of the peak lords are reminded of just how scary WQW can be when he has a valid reason to be. The man is horrifying, normally warm and friendly smile wiped completely off his face - instead, there's a scowl. A petrifying scowl that looks out of place on his face. Let's just say that the disciples are very quickly found and...dealt with. Also!! I read the last little paragraph and just...immediately thought of a different kind of panyuan - a little demon type creature that WQW likely took in as a baby because...listen, so what if it's a demon, the shimei on the beast peak said that it's okay because "pangolin-type demons are harmless, trust me bro". This little pangolin baby has a human form, meaning WQW basically has a little baby that is sometimes a pangolin. In human form, he has his little tail and spatterings of scales over his body, and he is just a little GUY. He's just as charming as a little child, peeking out from behind WQW's robes and clinging to him, often just resorting to communicating through his little chirps and squeaks when he gets scared or far too shy for words. He is still taken to literally all of the peak lord meetings, because he's just a little guy, and god forbid anyone finds SY NOT sitting on WQW's shoulders or cuddled in his embrace. Everyone else is, at first, kind of hesitant because bro that's a child get him OUT of our meetings. Then they're hit with the big ole eyes and they fucking crumble.

[arc-misadventures]

So, for your consideration for the VTuber line. VTubers tend to have their specific circles, their regular collab groups. In every group, there is always one in particular who just can't help but suffer from scuff almost every stream, and there is always the one who fills the role of group tech support. I feel like Jaune would absolutely be the tech support for his circle. If that's the case, then who'd be your scuff queen/king. Someone we've already met? Or somebody who has yet to be introduced? Maybe I'm wrong, and Jaune is the scuff king. I'm curious to see what you'd do with this thought.

The VTuber: Circles Within Circles

Among the vast, VTubing community there tending to be many circles of, VTubers that tended to exclusively interact with one another, be this because of similar interests, or from hailing from the same academy, or in some occasions being a part of the same family. There was always a circles one could find someone being apart of.

Such as the quartet that was, CookieMonster, SushiandShibari, DraGunShow, and IHateMyDad2.0. While Cookie, and DraGun were half-sisters, the four of them all hailed from, Beacon Academy, both the agency, and fictional academy, and were once part of the same Huntress team back in the day.

This was just one of many examples of circles being formed, and made by the various, VTubers. However, there was always the outliers of this trend. Then again, he was always the outliner of any particular group.

But, what would one expect from the lone wolf of the VTubing community: ErrantyPaladain.

If the circles among the VTuber community were to be made into a Venn diagram, Errant would be smack dab right in the middle of all of them. Just like when he played, 'The World of Remnant: Hunter's, and Monsters.' A Huntsmen of no, Academy nor a single nation. The vagabond of Hunters' as he was sometimes referred to as.

ErrantPaladin would, as he often still does, would join any VTuber for the occasional collab if asked to, regardless of which VTuber, or agency asked him to. But, in the end just as always, he stood alone.

Some may see this as a weakness that. ErrantryPaladin possessed. But, many would see this as a benifit for one to gain his unique perspective that others often overlooked, or never saw.

The Genshin Impact update was one such example:

~~~

SushiandShibari: I don't understand why they couldn't just add more diverse characters to this latest update!

DraGunShow: What are you talking about; The latest update added some pretty interesting roaster of characters, what's wrong with the new characters they added?

SushiandShibari: They didn't add any diverse characters! Look at them, that's basically a tan! Why not add some black characters to the game? It should have more diversity in it!

DraGunShow: I wouldn't mind seeing some more diverse characters to the game. I mean, they all look pretty similar to one another.

SushiandShibari: Exactly! This is what many of the, English voice actors have been saying! There should be more diverse characters, then it just being a bunch of white people!

DraGunShow: Okay...? Look, Sushi, I'm not really sure about what should be done about this, and I don't really think I'm an expert on... any of this. Why don't we ask someone else, and get their opinion on this?

SushiandShibari: Fine. But, who are you going to ask?

DraGunShow: Let's see who's on...

DraGunShow: Hmmm...

DraGunShow: Ahh! Errant's online! Let's ask him!

SushiandShibari: Do you seriously want his opinion, or do you just want to talk to him?

DraGunShow: Don't you?

SushiandShibari: ...

SushiandShibari: Call him.

DraGunShow: I've already done it~!

...

...

...

ErrantryPaladin: Hello, DraGun. May I be of some sort of service?

DraGunShow: Hi, Errant! Is this a bad time?

ErrantryPaladin: No, I was just playing a few rounds of, Sins of a Solar Empire 2. But, I can pause it.

DraGunShow: Oh good! Sushi, and I have been having this debate, and well... I don't know much about it. So we were wondering if you could add your two cents to it.

ErrantyPaladin: Possibly. What is this debate about?

SushiandShibari: We're debating about how the latest update to. Genshin Impact isn't diverse enough, and that they should be more inclusive, and add more characters of more diverse back grounds. A lot of the, English voice actors are in agreement that, Genshin should add more diverse characters, and how the game should be more inclusive!

ErrantryPaladin: Ahh, that pointless argument.

SushiandShibari: P-Pointless?

DraGunShow: What do you mean by that?

ErrantryPaladin: What I mean is the, Genshin Impact is a, Chinese game made by a, Chinese company. They do not give a damn about inclusivity. And, the complaints people are making about that will only fall upon deaf, and uncaring ears.

SushiandShibari: What? What do you mean, surly they care what their player base thinks?

ErrantyPaladin: Not really, no. Listen, this isn't a western game company where a dozen people on, X can complain about something, and cause the game studio to change everything about it just because their encouraged to do to some higher ups being detached from reality, and being swayed by cheap coin.

ErrantryPaladin: This is a Chinese company, they are going to do things their way, and their way only.

SushiandShibari: But, they already have so many white characters, why can't...?!

ErrantryPaladin: Whoa whoa whoa! Did you say, 'white?' Sushi. they're, Chinese. Everyone in the game is based off of, Chinese characteristics. There is nothing 'white' about any of them.

DraGunShow: What are you talking about, a lot of their character designs look... white?

ErrantryPaladin: Pale would be the correct term you're looking for. Okay... Look, look up, 'Chinese movie stars,' and you'll get a wide array of skin tones, and facial features. Of which you will find that many of the, Genshin characters, both male, and female adopt. And, for the record, slim, pale skinned with angular jaws seem to be their standard of beauty. At least I believe that to be... seems evident.

DraGunShow: Whoa... there is a lot of skin tones here, Sushi.

SushiandShibari: Okay... I conceive the point to you... But, couldn't they still add more diverse characters to the game?

ErrantryPaladin: By 'diverse' you no doubt mean that white savior complex argument of adding black people to every, and any game. Of which they won't do, regardless of how much people whine at them to.

SushiandShibari: Why not?

ErrantryPaladin: Nor denying that one, eh? Okay, the reason why they will never add any 'diverse' characters is for one simple reason: The, Chinese are really, really, racist.

SushiandShibari: Eh?

DraGunShow: What?

SushiandShibari: They're racist, what do you mean by that?

ErrantryPaladin: I mean exactly what I said; The Chinese are really racist. Well, most people in, Asia are really racist actually. But, the, Chinese are no exception to this rule. They are racist towards, Americans, towards the, Europeans, towards the, Africans. They are particularly racist towards the, Japanese, that's a whole can of worms right there as to why. But, they are even racist to themselves!

ErrantryPaladin: So that's why I consider it a pointless argument. You're trying to force, Western ideals on a nation, that is actively fighting against them on a global scale. It doesn't matter what you do, nor say, they will not give a damn about any of it.

SushiandShibari: Oh... I see...

ErrantryPaladin: Now, I'm not saying for certain that I'm a hundred percent accurate. There are no doubt gapes in my memory, or I misinterpreted things. But, I am sure, that no matter how much anyone complains about inclusivity to the creators of, Genshin Impact, they will not give a damn. Honestly, I would advise the voice actors who are making these complaints to shut up; They are after all... replaceable.

ErrantryPaladin: Now, does that answer your question, or is there something else you'd like to ask?

DraGunShow: No.. I think that answer it... Sushi?

SushiandShibari: I... I need to do some research... Thanks Errant.

ErrantryPaladin: My pleasure! Now excuse me, I have some heathens to cleanse.

DraGunShow: ...

SushiandShibari: ...

DraGunShow: So...?

SushiandShibari: Shut up.

DraGunShow: Okay.

~~~

Sometimes people found his opinion, and thoughts to be rather controversial, and counter to most peoples beliefs, and often caused a mild controversy. But, ErrantryPaladin, stuck to his convictions, and paid them no mind.

He was asked to express his opinions and he did just so. If people got upset by them, then so be it.

Other times, people went to, ErrantryPaladin for simpler things. His opinions on games, sports and the likes. He was often asked by a fellow, Vtuber who hailed from the, Beacon VTuber Agency name, MochaFashionista for his advice on woman's fashion. Something many found to be quite odd that Vtubings fashionista would ask someone else, much less a guy for his opinions on woman's fashion.

That was until he gave his reviews, and opinions on woman's fashion with her, and everyone came to the same conclusion: 'This guy knows what he's talking about.'

When asked why, and how he knew so much about woman's fashion he simply replied: 'I have a lot of sisters.' And innocent, and simple answers that once again lead to speculation among his fans as to how many sisters did he really have, and if that was the sole reason he knew so much about woman's fashion.

But, being a fashion commentator was an occasional activity he almost exclusively did with, MochaFashionista. What he often did with other VTuber's was something he began to regret having to do. Less so with him being the only one capable of helping with other, and no one else was seemingly capable of fixing their problems themselves. And, more so how they managed to develop such problems.

What were those problems, ErrantryPaladin was so capable of helping others fix you ask? Simple really:

Tech support.

~~~

Fall4Me: Shitshithsitshitshit!

Panic coursed through, Fall4Me's voice as she looked at the bugged out screen before her. She was about to do a co-op game with several of her fellow streamers. But, her screen had begun to glitch out before she even started. She had to fix this before...

ErrantryPaladin: Hey, Ember, ready to play?

Fall4Me: Hey, Errant~! Yeah, I'm totally ready to play, just give me a moment!

ErrantryPaladin: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Haaa...

ErrantryPaladin: What is it this time?

Fall4Me: ...

Fall4Me: My screen is bugged out...

ErrantryPaladin: God dammit...

~~~

DraGunShow: Okay, I'm ready to play!

ErrantryPaladin: Are you sure, because it says you're not live?

DraGunShow: What? I'm totally online! It says so right here.

ErrantryPaladin: On which account does it say that?

DraGunShow: On my other account...

ErrantryPaladin: Other account? Wait, does that mean you bought two copies of the same game?

DraGunShow: Yes...?

ErrantryPaladin: Why are you saying that like it's a question?!

DraGunShow: I don't know?!

~~~

Another usual stream from, Fall$Me, one where she'd be joined by her precious, Wolf as they played another game together.

That's if her mic was on.

Fall4Me: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Ember?

Fall4Me: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Ember you're muted.

Errant had decided to change his stream to her to see what was up, and based upon how her model was moving, he could tell she was live, however.

He saw the panic look that filled, Fall4me's face as she struggled to turn her mic on, but based on how she seemingly developed this panic complexion.

ErrantryPaladin: Is your mike on?

She shook her head as she look at him in confusion.

ErrantryPaladin: Then turn it own.

She proceeded to do so, or at least, Errant assumed she was based upon her body movements. But, since nothing was heard from her end, and how she started to panic again, Errant could only shake his head in disappointment at her.

ErrantryPaladin: Did you at least plug your mic in?

He saw her model move to the side, and then appear stiff, no doubt a sign that she was going to check her mic. She soon came back, and and her model moved in front of the camera, her body adopting a bashful, and embarrassed posture.

ErrantryPaladin: It wasn't plugged in, was it?

Fall4Me: No...

ErrantryPaladin: How the hell did that happen?!

Fall4Me: I don't know!

~~~

The amount of times, Errant had to provide tech support to his fellow, VTubers had forced him to adopt a tech support persona, that eventually lead him to getting a new, VTuber model for people to understand what he was doing, and more importantly:

To shame those that needed his help.

~~~

Fall4Me: Errant?

ErrantryPaladin: Yes?

Fall4Me: Can help me?

ErrantryPaladin: Haaa... one moment.

ErrantryPaladin: What do you require of me, a humble servant of the, Machine-Spirit this time?

ErrantryPaladin's model became that of a, Warhammer 40000, Tech-Priest. He liked using this model because it helped him better understand, and focus on helping other, VTubers with their technical problems. And, generally make fun of those that needed his assistance. Again.

Fall4Me: Nooooo! Not, the Tech-Priest! I'm not having any problems with my computer! You don't need to put that mask on!

ErrantryPaladin: Your record prompts that this form should be the natural form taken upon this devotee of the Machine God when one addresses the, Scuff Queen.

Fall4Me: I'm not a scuff queen! This has nothing to deal with my computer!

ErrantryPaladin: Records prove otherwise. Now, what seems to be the problem; Did you forget to light the sacred incense?

Fall4Me: No! And, I'm not falling for that again!

ErrantryPaladin: Have you beseeched the, Machine-Spirit?

Fall4Me: Does calling it a hunk of junk count?

ErrantryPaladin: What! You dare insult the, Machine-Spirit in such a crewel manner! You have offended the, Machine-Spirit! Light the sacred incense at once to appease it!

Fall4Me: I'm not doing that again! It didn't work that time anyway! It has nothing to do with my computer!

ErrantryPaladin: Then what seems to be the problem that requires me?

Fall4Me: Is 0/bs a bad thing, or...?

ErrantryPaladin: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Omnissiah preserve me...

~~~

ErrantyPaladin's, VTuber career has been marked with a cloister of things. His interactions with his fellow, VTubers; The good, the bad, the weird, and the confusing. The mild controversies he had seen, and been a part of. The fights that broke out between, and withing the various agencies.

Errant had seen it all with in his own little eye of the storm upon a Venn diagram that was the, VTuber community. He occasionally ventured out to experience the thrills, and parrels of the storm, but at the end of the day, he would return to the center where he chose to stay. Called out only to join his fellow streamers for some fun.

And, copious amounts of tech support.

[multidimensionalguidance]

Services

Here's a compilation of notes on composite charts that I've seen and experienced as well. Composite charts blend the individual birth charts of two people into a single chart that represents the relationship itself. It represents the relationship’s dynamics, challenges, strengths, and purpose. Enjoy!

Capricorn ASC/Rising: these are the couples that seem to skip a lot of the initial steps in a relationship and feel very serious right from the start. The purpose of this relationship is to learn the pros and cons of tradition. They'll learn the importance of taking things slow, building a strong foundation, and supporting each other's goals. Together they strive to be a power couple. It is also likely to be a very karmic relationship as well, so obstacles and challenges are expected. With Libra ruling their 10th house they care a lot about how others perceive them, and understand that together they can reach for higher social levels than what they were single. From the outside, they might look like the ideal relationship and others think they look good together. They could have met at work, in a social/public setting, or after some difficult situation. The relationship might be or feel more difficult than most, less romantic, and more traditional than any other, but it's also the type to be more grounded, and committed than any other.

Jupiter in 1st House: There is a lot of abundance, luck, and growth in this type of relationships, and the closer to the ascendant, the more noticeable it is to others how the relationship is surrounded by an air of optimism. They love to adventure, explore, and travel together. There's also a spiritual undertone to these relationships because it feels very "meant to be" for both individuals. The connection elevates their knowledge about life and their deepest inner self as well. Everyone perceives them as well educated, privileged, and foreign in some way. Others assume the relationship to be ideal for both individuals.

Neptune in 1st house: The connection revolves around illusions, healing, inspiration, spirituality, and mysticism. They probable handle their issues by either putting a smoke screen over it or in by taking the spiritual healing route. Others might perceive them as intuitive, unreachable, mystic, or delusional. They might struggle with seeing the relationship through rose colored glasses rather than what it really is. This would be the type of relationship that feels perfect until real issues arise, then confusion appears, and they don’t know how to be grounded enough to resolve it. Misunderstandings between individual expectations of the partnership are often the result of unclear communication.

Uranus in 1st house: There will be a lot of random, spontaneous, and sudden changes in the relationship. It might be hard for them to have a serious long term commitment because there's always some sort of disruption occuring. Both individuals have to learn to give each other as much space as necessary and to be accepting of their mutual eccentricities. These are the couples that people just don't know what to expect from them. One day they might be fighting, and then a few weeks later they might be taking their relationship to a different level. All of these ups and downs can be very challenging for the relationship, and it is very noticeable for everyone around them.

Path of Fortune in 1st house: Similarly to Jupiter, this is a relationship that has luck on their side but on a smaller scale. They'll notice how their day to day issues are resolved easily if they stay optimistic and trusting of the process. Other's might see them as a couple that met by a strike of luck or fate.

Saturn in 3rd house: The growth of the relationship, the communication between the both of them, how often they make local trips, or even matters related to vehicles might be delayed or difficult in this relationship. They are required to put a lot of effort and be patient with how well both parties manage the relationship. This placement is so uncomfortable because every relationship needs a strong and stable communication, but Saturn here pushes them to try harder than in any other connection. It is a connection that requires a lot of effort, so it will challenge both individuals to consider how badly they want to be together and make it work. If they do put the effort, then the relationship will be very rewarding and give them a sense of “of we did it, and we built this from scratch!”.

Moon in 5th house: This is a couple whose emotional focus, needs, and concerns are related towards the joy that they feel in it, the romance, creativity, and fruits of the partnership. They will also experience fluctuations on these matters as well, meaning one day they might feel very emotionally safe on their approach towards children, and then in another they are unsure about it. They are the type of couple that if they have children (which is often seen in this type of placement) they would be very nurturing, understanding, needy, clingy, and overall concerned with their children’s development a lot.

Moon in Taurus: This is a very good placement for the Moon as it is exalted, so on an emotional level the relationship should feel very safe and comforting for both parties unless there is any affliction (Mars, Saturn, or Pluto). If there is affliction, then they will find it difficult to fully enjoy the emotional aspect of the relationship, and will be overly concerned with finances, home, beauty, luxury, and stability.

Moon Opposite Pluto: In here we can find deep issues with the impulses of controlling each others emotions in the relationship. There is likely to be a heavy theme of emotional manipulation. They'll play games, and be very emotionally possessive. A lot of monitoring how the other responds or communicates, as if trying to look for a hidden meaning to everything. This can be a very emotionally draining, yet transformative relationship, for good or bad. It might either make both parties aware of their dark tendencies or leave them emotionally unavailable to a certain degree. A lot of emotional baggage can be felt in and after the relationship as well. Honesty, kindness, and patience is needed to balance out the negative aspects. If these difficulties are resolved, then they'll be very good at managing their emotions and reaching depths with each other that would be difficult to achieve in other relationships.

Juno in 6th house: this is a couple that acts like they are married on their day to day, but the idea of marriage in itself might be a difficult conversation for both. If they do reach a deeper commitment then they will be very practical, exercise together, be very service oriented, and perhaps even adopt pets as well. The sign Juno falls in will color even deeper how their marriage or ceremony might be. For example: If its Gemini, then they'll focus on communication a lot throughout their day to day. The type of married couple that is constantly texting each other, sending memes, throwing jokes, etc. The marriage ceremony might be quick, they'll share their feelings + thoughts, and spend the whole event talking to each other.

North Node in 9th house: the relationship’s shared destiny, purpose, and karmic lessons are related to their higher mind, traveling, philosophy, spirituality, and higher education. It could be that in a past life they didn't get to develop a strong communication between each other or only entertained a basic level of mental connection. Perhaps they didn't get to travel and discover the world, and that stayed as an unfulfilled desire.

Stellium in 10th house: There is a huge emphasis on how others view the relationship, the material goals, achievements, reputation, and career as well. This is the type of couple that gains a lot of fame and notoriety when in public. They look picture perfect in some way, but the dangers lie on looking but not acting the part behind doors. Others look up to their relationship a lot, and think they'll be able to rise to the top easily. All of this is specially true if the luminaries, Mercury, and Venus are involved. Their relationship is very public, in the sense that everyone knows and talks about them, which they are aware of.

For example: a composite chart with Sun, Mercury, Venus, and Mars in Libra will result in a couple that approaches life through the pursuit of harmony, beauty, luxury, arts, and social status. They act and think that their relationship is what life revolves around, and if they break up it might be hard to replicate that "we can achieve anything" energy again. They could end up working together in a Venusian industry (clothes, materials, jewelry, arts, etc) and be very successful in it. Others have high expectations of them and the way they present themselves to the world. Add asteroid Chiron to the mix, and then the wounds of the relationship are also public. The real downside aside from feeling like everyone knows your business is if any of these planets are afflicted, which then make them see life and their relationship through very superficial lenses. Even if there's no affliction, they might feel like things revolves around material matters too much.

Sagittarius in 12th House: the hidden feelings that might develop in this relationship is the need to become more spiritual, travel more, and expand as a couple. This house also rules the way the relationship ends, so it might be quick and while one or both are traveling. It could be that the hidden difficulties in this connecting is the distance between them, be it physical or mentally. There could be background or cultural differences that leads to the break up. It can also mean that they'll be settling in foreign places at some point as well.