#Part XXIV

[randomfoggytiger]

The Scully Family In-Depth (Part XXIV): Guardian Angels and Inverted Nativities

I was struck with the overt nativity symbolism while combing through this two-parter-- not as a direct religious comparison (a mother to an impossible child), but as a poignant antithesis to Scully, Mulder, and Emily's story.

(**Note**: A deep dive into the Scully family spanning A Christmas Carol and Emily can be found in this post here.)

EMILY, SCULLY, MULDER: A DISASTER IN THREES

When we first glimpse Emily, she is cradled in her father’s arms, silent and expressionless in the wake of her mother’s death. She locks eyes with Scully and refuses to look away, following her movements in that room, during Scully’s second visit, during the arrest of Mr. Sim, after the social worker van drives away, and in her hospital room: an intense, though bland, fixation. Emily, it seems, was beckoning Scully to her; and was perfectly content to be in her company while chaos was erupting around her. Although part of this has to do with Chris Carter’s characterization in A Christmas Carol-- which Spotnitz, Gilligan, and Shiban tone down in Emily-- the germ of that idea remains: in short, Emily quite blatantly chose Scully-- whether because she was obeying a supernatural or biological or other more normal and sacred impulse. 

This is important because of two reasons: 

That inclination sends her biological mother into a spiral of questions and doubts, which culminated in a fight for custody and willingness to leave the FBI to raise Emily. If she had not fought to adopt her, Scully wouldn't have been able to keep her safe during Emily’s final hours on Earth.

That inclination creates friction between Scully's intentions and Mulder's subdued resistance.

To set the scene: Scully has been avoiding the temptation to call her partner up to ask for help-- in fact, she bailed on the only phone call to his apartment and worked around him to get answers (Mulder’s friend Danny at the FBI-- not TLG, not Mulder himself.) On the one hand, we know she is conflicted and struggling with her infertility; but the struggle is greater-- much greater-- than she is letting on. As discussed in the previous part, she nearly breaks down in tears trying to convince the social worker to advocate for her: “--” Scully either found out she was infertile during her cancer treatments (but didn’t have the time or energy to abstract that fact into her reality) or she found out afterward (either before or after Mulder dodged-- intentionally or not-- her cheese platter in Detour.) And yet, she has not shared this burden with her partner nor (until Maggie applied a little pressure) with her family.

If this be the case, of course she would avoid Mulder’s calls: her sister’s voice eerily over the phone? A niece, she presumes, who is involved in a cover-up conspiracy? Everything would point, in Mulder’s mind, back to the Conspiracy; and Scully isn’t allowing herself to entertain that notion. But now, against her first inclination, she is left no choice but to call Mulder: Emily is her daughter, and that means she is a part of the Conspiracy with a capital ‘c’. “Well, how did she come into this world?” Scully asks when Mulder arrives; and avoids a direct response when he replies, “Have you asked yourself that?” Because no, she hasn’t-- hasn’t wanted to. 

And that’s the (not-so-subtle) subtext: everything, to Mulder, is the key to everything, to his quest for the truth. And where does that leave her, newly recovered and ready to let her walls down? She tried to change but he hadn’t: he’s still the same Mulder running after mothmen and trying to find answers about his sister. It’s the endless line again, it’s Never Again again, it’s a preemptive taste of a weekend tossed aside for crop circles.

The next big question is: where does this begin and end for Mulder? 

Over the course of ten days (according to this timeline), Mulder receives two phone calls: one Scully drops and another where she asks him down to be a character witness. But that, of course is not the full picture: his partner asks him down to be a character witness to adopt her daughter whose parents have been murdered and whose case she has been investigating without asking for Mulder's help. In short, he feels purposefully excluded and reduced to the boxes of "partner" and "character witness."

Mulder seemed secure in his brief appearance in A Christmas Carol: Scully was out of town, but she’d be back; and he’d get up to shenanigans in the meantime. 

Mulder shifted to being insecure, withdrawn, and downright fearful in Emily: not only had he, in his eyes, already lost his partner right from under his nose, but he might alienate her further because of the information he’d kept from her-- the fact he’d known about her infertility as far back as her early cancer diagnosis. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Scully is calling him in as a character witness to win the adoption rights for her daughter; and all the facts he has to give are deemed unworthy of a normal court’s time. 

Lastly, he knows-- he just knows-- that something is off with Emily. If she is a product of Scully’s ova, there is no way on Earth that the Syndicate hasn’t tampered with her DNA. The clones he met in Memento Mori who called her and other MUFON abductees “our mothers” prove that to be the case. 

And he knows that Scully either doesn’t know or doesn’t want to know this. 

To Mulder, this spells disaster: Scully dropping out of the FBI and leaving him behind to raise a child that is most certainly half-human, half other. What is even more disastrous is that he doesn’t know how to react or respond to this situation: does he council her against the adoption? He can’t in good conscience. Does he support her decision to adopt, which would mean he supports her transfer from the X-Files department? Does he warn her of the consequences and dangers of trying to raise Emily? Yes. But does that change Scully’s mind? No. His hands are tied.

And how do his concerns and his fears factor into this dynamic? In short, how could a miraculous conception-- quote on quote-- spell disaster and doom for him, Scully, and Emily? 

MULDER ARRIVES

Emily opens on Mulder’s arrival at the children’s foster care center, a lone figure asking directions to where his partner and her daughter are. And that loneliness continues when he finds them: Mulder hangs back, observing Scully’s happiness and Emily’s complacency with dread. Already, Mulder is placed as an outsider-- more precisely, he is placing himself as an outsider by hanging back. 

Why is he hanging back? Why, specifically, is he hanging back from Scully and her daughter instead of embracing this?

Simply put, we know Mulder is bracing for disaster. And we also know that he is in no place in his life to make space for a family, to “settle down, have something approaching a normal life” (as Scully says a year or so later.) Put these two factors together,  mix them up with a child he suspects is the half-human result of his partner’s abduction, and Mulder has already set up sky-high brigades to protect himself. 

This is not new for him, either: after her remission, Mulder put barriers back in place between himself and Scully; and when she tried to explore their boundaries, poke them or topple them with a cheese platter in Detour, he purposefully muted his awareness and ran after monsters. And his decided, purposed avoidance of settling down or having a family or-- in short-- leaving the quest was a decision he’d made before Scully came into his life (one he stated decisively to her in The Jersey King.) It’s not until The Unnatural that Mulder realizes he can have both, that his goals won’t suffer by living just a little normally, enjoying life just a little bit. (And afterward, Scully approaches him for the IVF, post here.) 

Combine all of that together, and it explains why he nearly sags when seeing Scully smiling eagerly at her daughter-- a child, he tells her, that was never meant to be: his guard is up, and he's keeping a distance between himself and little Sim (and warning his partner to do the same) despite his kindness and gentleness, despite chasing leads and yelling threats to save her life. In short, he’s saving this girl for Scully, not himself. And because he loves Scully, truly loves her, he's willing enough to lose her for a child that was not meant to be. 

But Mulder is Mulder, and his partner and her daughter are Scullys: he puts on a brave face when Scully looks up at him from the floor, walks over, and tries to strike up a friendship with Emily. He then proves he’s a natural with kids, particularly shy ones: he asks what Emily what she’s coloring, waits for her answer, and makes an exaggerated Mr. Potato Head face to lower her guard. It cheers her up instantly, and makes Scully smile as well.

Another warning sign lights up for him right after: he notices Scully's cross around Emily's neck. His partner is already attached.

But what a conflicting brew of emotions that would be. He wore that cross during her abduction, while her ova were taken and her daughter-- who is now wearing it-- was created. It's a passing of the baton Maggie did for him in Ascension, one that must have stung a little for her as Scully distanced from her mother to draw closer to the work (and Mulder.) But Mulder is given no choice or prior warning (like the keychain in Alone): it's happened; and that connection between them has been made significant another, different way... for someone else.

When Scully insists, “I can protect her, too,” he persists: “And who’s going to protect you?” Despite his reasoning-- that both the Sims are dead to protect the Syndicate’s interests-- Scully replies, “I know. I-I’ve considered that. But I’ve also considered that there’s only one right thing to do.” Mulder doesn’t seem to agree: silently here, publicly in the judge’s chambers; but he supports her decision both times (just as he supports her decision to let Emily die.) 

“Why didn’t you call me sooner,” he asks, the same edge in his interrogation in Elegy. 

“Because I couldn’t believe it,” she answers, the same response as Elegy. 

Predictably, he is annoyed, irritated: he feels the step backward in their dynamic. When Scully states she called him to be a witness on her behalf, he (quietly) snaps, “And I should have declined.” Off her hurt expression, he softens and clarifies, “If I never want to see you hurt or harmed in any way.” 

Branching off of this conversation, the judge’s chambers reveal a deeply rooted psychological insight into Mulder’s character. He lays out the facts as he knows them-- the dangers and unanswered questions-- but states, in closing, “The fact that she can adopt this child-- her own flesh and blood-- is something I don’t feel I have the right to question and I don’t believe anybody has the right to stand in the way of.” ‘Her own flesh and blood’ and ‘the right to question’/‘right to stand in the way of’ are specifically coded in the language of Fate.

The irony, or serendipity, or fate, really-- and this two-parter is dripping in Fate, be it because of Emily’s miraculous birth or Melissa’s miraculous guidance or the lingering vestiges of Scully’s partner and late sister’s belief in Fate-- of Mulder being completely correct (that Scully will get hurt) and of Scully being completely correct (in the face of her family’s disbelief and her own desire to stay at the FBI) is beautifully tragic; and horribly marred by the Consortium's last spiteful maneuver (a coffin full of sand.) “No matter how much you love this little girl, she was a miracle that was never meant to be, Scully”-- that is the theme of A Christmas Carol and Emily. 

It’s not the first time Mulder has alluded to the concept of fate or its working in his and Scully’s life-- in fact, Mulder builds the identity of his quest on top of that concept of Fate (post here.) He lost his sister because of fate; but his fated, mythical quest will bring her back. His father played with the hand of fate and lost. The Consortium choose to tamper with Fate, taking it into their own hands; and Scully was taken and Emily born because of it. But it was Fate to bring mother and daughter back together; and he doesn’t see it as his right to step in the way of or prevent that fate. 

By contrast, Scully’s own beliefs are in direct opposition to Fate: she argues Mulder out of his own biases and beliefs, calls into questions the lies he chooses to believe in (or tells himself), and points out that she chooses to stay by his side, that she chooses to be his partner. “I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anybody but you” is a choice she made as far back as Season 1; and the FBI a choice she made farther back than even that. 

Emily is a wedge of in both systems: she was not fated to be, according to Mulder; but she is there and must be protected, leaving Scully no choice. The Consortium played with Fate, making themselves god, and created a life that had no purpose other than to die; and the Consortium ripped away Scully’s one choice by robbing her of the peace of burying her own daughter. 

(As an aside: this is why I’m so invested in Scully’s pregnancy in Requiem-Existence: William’s conception and birth was not an act of fate, but an act of freewill and choice. Scully chose to stay with Mulder in all things; and he was conceived that night-- according to Frank Spotnitz, post here. Season 8 played with the confusion of “Is this fate?” from all parties; and all parties were proven incorrect. Mulder and Scully’s baby wasn’t what anyone were predicting-- not some special, magical, or given-by-God-to-save-the-world figure. He was simply, and beautifully, normal. “But that doesn’t make him any less of a miracle, does it?” Mulder asks; and Scully agrees. He’s their miracle that they conceived and worked hard for and angsted over during the long, hard months that Fate tried to rip them apart forever. Free will, then, wins.)

After advocating for Emily’s adoption, Mulder waits for Scully on the Scully family couch, attention caught by the Nativity scene-- the same one that caught her attention in the previous episode (post here.) He fiddles with one of the wisemen-- again, breaking that direct comparison between his own ties to this story-- until his partner approaches; then he turns the figurine around and sits back as she approaches.

As touched on previously, the religious imagery filtering throughout these episodes-- the Nativity scene, Mulder pondering Joseph’s figurine, Scully's face fading out to the Virgin Mary's stained glass image-- serves to invert and pervert the Nativity story. More often than not, this episode is read through a ham-fisted, morally superior, distasteful parallel between Mary the Mother of Jesus and Scully’s surprise motherhood. The reality is, the narrative points of the Biblical story do not at all align with Scully or Mulder or Emily’s journey-- in fact, the latter three serve as its antithesis.  

Mulder is not only a man who feels excluded from this miracle but also one who chooses to avoid becoming a father figure. 

Scully is an expectant mother not through divine blessing for her strength of character but because of ruthless, corrupted, and inhumane interference. 

And Emily is a child who doesn’t see Scully as her mother, who staunchly holds her separate from her own beloved Mommy (“Mommy said no more tests.”) 

The writers themselves said they weren’t trying to set Scully up as the Virgin Mary incarnate, either (post here)-- the parallel was simply a Christmas one-- and I believe them. Because they wrote the true parallel between Tara and the Nativity, showing the display first by her side in A Christmas Carol. From then on, Scully and Mulder separately gazed or pondered or played with the Nativity as an unreachable, almost inconceivable notion-- because it is, for them. (For now, anyway, if you cosign canon after Je Souhaite.) 

“It takes two of us to get my sister-in-law in bed these days,” she says, explaining her length of absence and attempting to lighten the mood. 

Sincerely, Mulder asks, “When is she due?”

“Two weeks ago.” 

(Which means-- if the math maths correctly-- that the Scully family expected baby Matthew before Christmas; and since he hasn’t arrived, Maggie and Scully might have then expected to stay longer and help Tara and Bill transition into parenthood. Or maybe Maggie intended to stay and Scully to fly back. In any case, her almost panicky reaction to the baby kicking (mentioned in a previous post here makes more sense in context.) 

When the phone rings, Scully is almost afraid to answer it (sitting on the couch a few seconds longer than necessary as Mulder stares at her.) This time there is no voice, no “go to her Dana”, which would probably be more unsettling than her sister’s instructions, at this point. 

Emily Sim, they find, is deteriorating (Mulder, in fact, finds the green cyst on her neck); and both scoop her up and rush her to the hospital. It’s bad news after bad news (as he predicted.)

“Now, are you two the parents?” asks the doctor. 

Scully looks from him to Mulder, eyes troubled and almost pleading. When her partner notices, he tilts his head away, sags, and withdraws: this is her child, and her call. For Scully, this signals that he is not ready to commit further-- won't, in effect, join her in these new responsibilities; and feels the rejection like a blow. Although Mulder didn’t mean to reject her-- he thinks that she’s leaving the work (and him) to be a parent, something he can’t do; and now feels outside the circle of her decisions-- his meaning is clear. From now on, Scully feels she must battle for Emily’s life on her own, reliving the struggle and isolation of her diagnosis and treatment in Scanlon’s office. 

“How did you know?” Scully questions Mulder after Emily’s blood has incapacitated a doctor. He continues dancing the thin line between keeping information from her and telling her just enough, and the little he gives his partner weakens her resolve and sends her into a mild panic: “She’s just a little girl. You say that I can’t protect her, but I can’t let this be her life. Just a few days ago she was fine.” 

“She was also being treated,” he points out; and Scully’s eyes widen, more proof she is so rushed that she hasn’t considered this circumstance-- her daughter, the adoption, the Conspiracy-- from all angles.  

As Emily’s condition worsens, Scully keeps watch, knowing she has no real authority to save her daughter but hold onto what little foothold she has. The little girl, however, begins to resist: “Mommy said no more tests.” Again, an inverse of the Christmas story: a child drawing away from its biological mother.

Stung by the reality of their situation, she doesn’t deny Emily's statement, carefully deflecting, “We just want you to get better. That’s what these tests are about.” And with each test and each procedure, she has to endure worse and worse news: a tumorous infection, the doctor proclaims; a possible revocation of rights, the social worker warns. After storming against Emily’s possible removal, Scully relents to a quiet, “What do you want me to tell them you’re doing for her?” Pausing, she admits, “I don’t know yet. But I will”: active choice, Freewill, beginning to assert itself. During her daughter’s last round of tests, Scully gently talks her through the procedure. It seems to work, at first, before Emily starts screaming; and she rushes to try to both help and calm her down.

The last glimpse we have of the two together is of Emily near tears and Scully unable to soothe her completely. 

And where is Mulder while all this is going down? Hunting down and assaulting men that won't “Help that little girl!”, causing havoc and mayhem and disruption… and finding yet another Scully baby submerged, alive, in green goo (post here.) But he does not save this baby or any other baby there-- knows he cannot, now, with so much at stake-- but instead grabs a cure for Emily; and flees. 

Mulder is committed to protecting the innocent; and, though he fears how this will play out, he is willing to stand by Emily’s hospital bed (and Emily’s coffin)-- there for his partner, and for her daughter, as much as he can. It might not be in ways Scully needs from him, but it's the best he can do.

Unfortunately, Emily Sim slips into a coma before the cure can arrive. 

Scully is staring at her body, watching her breathe up and down, when Mulder rejoins. She is gutted, but accepting, knowing without having to ask what he’s thinking: “I’m okay, Mulder.” 

As they stand there together, she shares her resolution: “It’s what’s meant to be,” she says. Paths and purposes, saving a girl to deliver her up to death, guiding her from life into her sister’s arms in the afterlife. She was meant for the FBI, and Emily was meant for her for a short time; but both weren’t, ultimately, meant for each other. 

“But if you could treat her--” Mulder begins; and is shocked by her conviction. 

“I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t do it to her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mulder, whoever brought this child into this world didn’t intend to love her.” 

Surprised at her stability-- and trusting to it-- he carefully admits, “I think she was… she was born to serve an agenda.” His way of having her back, of saying “I would do the same thing.”

“I have a chance to stop that.” Face crumbling, she mourns, “You were right: this child was not meant to be.” 

Looking from Emily to his partner, he assures, “I’ll stay with you”; but Scully, still remembering his gun-shy distance, feels she must grieve this loss alone-- a loss she knows he sympathizes with, but hasn’t internalized for himself. And, despite Mulder’s growth since the early days of their partnership (post here), she is right.

“I think I’d like to be alone,” she requests, casting her watery eyes up for understanding. And as rejected and dejected as he feels, he understands. 

Mulder retreats without telling her about the cure, sparing her the moral quandary of second guesses-- knowing his partner well enough to know she would doubt herself and revive Emily, only to watch her die a second time. 

Alone, Scully climbs into Emily’s bed, cuddling up against her daughter. The scene transitions to a stained-glass window of the Virgin Mary-- another mother doomed to lose her child to the cruelty of others; one with, however, a happier ending-- as the girl quietly passes away.

Alone, Scully sits in the church, withdrawn. But alone no longer: Mulder wanders in, last but not least; and surprises (and amuses) his partner with flowers he'd bought for Emily, determined to do this right. He may be a man who doesn’t see the value in convention, who remembers birthdays in dog years, and who kisses hands one day and runs off to the woods the next; but he is also a considerate soul who understands these conventions are meaningful for other people-- for his partner, most of all. 

“Who are the men who would create a life whose only hope was to die?” Scully questions, seeking the truth from the only one who will give her that truth. 

“I don’t know.” Seeing the pain in her face, he reassures, “But that you found her… and you had a chance to love her…. Maybe she was meant for that, too.” Melissa would certainly agree. 

“She found me,” Scully replies; and, again, this draws me back to my earlier theory on Emily’s psychic prescience (post here): in each dream, Emily made herself known; in each run-in, Emily sought her out with her eyes; at each step of the way, Emily looked up to her like a guardian angel-- her rescuer. And, in turn, Emily rescues Scully, as well (All Souls.) 

There is no evidence of Calderon’s work, Mulder explains; and Scully quickly realizes, “There is evidence.” Walking up to the coffin, she stands before Mulder’s bouquet, shooting him a shaky last side glance before raising the lid; he, in turn, pivots away, unable to stomach what he suspects she will find. 

And there is nothing but sand; nothing but second guesses. Scully concludes, as the episode’s opener, “It begins where it ends, in nothingness. A nightmare born from deepest fears, coming to me unguarded, whispering images unlocked from time and distance. A soul unbound, touched by others but never held. A course charted by some unseen hand. The journey ahead promising no more than my past reflected back upon me-- until at last I reach the end. Facing a truth I can no longer deny: alone, as ever.” 

Season 5 was, as I’ve previously discussed, a rough season for Mulder (post here), but the loneliness and guilt and indecision that molds to Scully will not be torn from her until All Souls, and then only under more painful, more disharmonious circumstances. 

ALL SOULS AND ALL THINGS

All Souls begins and ends with Scully’s confession, the doubts kicked up from A Christmas Carol-Emily doubled and tripled in the two-fold issue of religious uncertainty and biased doubt from her partner.

This episode, for Scully, does not end kindly: she must make peace with Emily’s loss, and let her go; and she must begin a serious battle with her own abilities-- is she helping anyone? Can she help anyone? Emily died, Mulder’s struggling, her resolve is cracking. Soon The Pine Bluff Variant will play on that distance, and Diana Fowley will swoop in to exploit it. Soon the office will burn; and, in spite of all her efforts, Scully will feel like she failed herself, her partner, and their work. Soon, she will embrace him as he stands in transfixed horror, unable to reciprocate back. 

All Souls is set up to break and subvert the patterns the previous two-parter set up, just as that two-parter set up just to subvert the Nativity scene: Scully calls Mulder for help from the get-go, but he dodges her call; Mulder sneers at rather than investigates other possibilities; and Mulder comforts her about seeing Emily in a vision but believes she is allowing herself to be compromised on a case. At least in Emily, Mulder knew the answers (or suspected them), and advocated for her exactly how and when she needed him to. What she recounted, he confirmed; what she guessed, he affirmed; what she grieved, he comforted with larger concepts like Fate. But here, Mulder is detached-- religion and its religious superstitions and beliefs are such an ugly concept to him that he gave no credence to Scully’s visions and tried to talk her down from her intuition instead of supporting her in crisis.  Mulder is proving, again and again, that he has not changed from the ditch in Detour-- and, moreover, that he can’t: this year, he’s just trying to keep his head above water. Like I’ve mentioned before, Scully has changed, Scully has grown, Scully is working to lower her shields… but over and over, she finds that Mulder is not ready for that vulnerability and avoids it: “Have you ever thought seriously about dying?” she asks in Detour, and chuckles-- at the time-- over his flippant “Only once, at the Ice Capades” response. 

But All Souls also provides an interesting flip in her relationship to Emily-- i.e. mother and daughter reverse roles. Like Scully had last Christmas, Emily is there to save vulnerable children and guide them to a better afterlife. And like Scully, she has accepted, in death, that her role on this Earth wasn’t “meant to be”: she pleads with Scully, “Mommy, please, let me go.” 

It’s striking, then, that Emily becomes the spiritual medium instead of Melissa. I understand why it was written that way-- Scully connects her sacrifice and Emily’s death to the church, and her faith, to bring her comfort. (And I don’t think Melissa Scully would be too keen to dabble around with Catholic mythologies.) It’s even more striking that Emily becomes the only truth Scully clings to or believes in: no one else, be it deeply entrenched priest or well-researched paranormal partner, believes in her eyewitness accounts. (Or, in Mulder’s case, does… but suggests it’s born from outside manipulation.) 

This episode is yet another ouroboros: Scully her only witness, Scully her only source of strength-- a pattern that began in Beyond the Sea and loops back around and around until she puts it to rest in all things. And there's another parallel: Melissa acting as her conscience and guardian angel; Emily acting as her literal conscience and guardian angel. It was Scully herself who spotted the physical similarity between the two; and the narrative continues to connect that similarity to Scully's emotional growth.

“You believed you were releasing her soul to Heaven?”  the confessor asks after Scully admits to a fourth girl's death.

“I felt sure of it,” she says, tears brimming. 

“But you still can’t reconcile this belief with the physical fact of her death?”

“No. I thought I could, Father, but I can’t.” 

“Do you believe there is a life after this one?”

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She stops, confused; and doesn’t answer. Second-guesses, doubts, and an inability to know her own conscience: all bubbling to the fore, once again. The ouroboros.

“Has it occurred to you that-- maybe this, too, was part of what you were meant to understand?”

“You mean accepting my loss?” 

“Can you accept it?” 

Tears trickling down her cheek, Scully trembles out, “Maybe that’s what faith is.” 

Her journey of faith has always been fraught (will continue to be so, post here) but Scully is mistaking belief in faith as an acceptance of loss-- a loss which she believes to be a punishment. She is afraid of attaching to others, has been since as a little girl; and that has driven her to and from God in different moments of extremis.  

Further, the struggle to be always in the dark, to never fully understand, is not one she gives much thought to… if she doesn’t have to face it, alone. However, Mulder-- her backup-- has been drifting aimlessly in recent months; and, because her own family can’t completely understand the strange horror of her reality, there is only one person left to lean on: her faulty perception of God. 

Why can’t Scully accept and believe what Emily has asked of her-- to let her go-- when she believed and accepted that truth when her daughter was dying? Because her conviction was shattered when she saw Emily’s coffin filled with sand: a spit in the face to her deliberate choice and hard-won decision. She has lost faith in herself; and the one person who she relies on-- as she admitted in Irresistible and Elegy-- for strength (inadvertently) withheld that comfort and support in All Souls, shattering it further. 

And the reality is, Mulder withdrew in All Souls because he was afraid of her (as he perceived) blind faith. Mulder himself is in desperate straits; and the thought that he could lose Scully-- to adoption (Emily), to a belief in aliens (The Red and the Black), to a wackier belief in God and angels and demons (All Souls)-- scares him to death and stirs up his distance or anger. While they were working towards a common goal in the cancer arc, neither needed to feel out-of-sync in their partnership, or question her nosebleeds, or withdraw from each other (more than their normal withdrawal parameters.) But now? Now, they’re completely out-of-sync-- Scully two steps ahead, doubting her progress, doubling back; and Mulder slouching, slumping, then sliding down a wall. 

THE GREAT CHANGE

What sets them right? 

Mulder’s confession in Fight the Future (post here) is mandatory to the shift from Season 5-- his dissipation and disbelief; her discouragement and lack of self-esteem-- to Season 6-- her assuredness and slow-build to loneliness; his wobbles forward into embracing a life on this planet with his touchstone. (I also recommend my meta on their Season 6 push-and-pull, post here, to understand why both had a lighter tone and higher confidence compared to last season.)  

TLDR: Scully was walking-- “You never needed me, Mulder. I just held you back”-- because she felt useless and worthless. Mulder was forced to battle with his own fear and insecurity or lose her forever; and, clutching his courage, chased her into the hall and tried his best to convince her to stay: by telling her, honestly, how much he truly needed her. 

CONCLUSION

Emily Sim was not meant to be; just as Scully was not meant to leave the files, nor Mulder to set aside his mission and walk away with them. Her birth, her life, and her death were a circumstance forced by a tampering with Fate-- the antithesis to Scully's freewill.

While Mulder rules his life by Fate-- parroting its principles, enshrining his quest and his losses in those terms-- Scully rules hers by choice: it is her choice to join the FBI, her choice to stay, and her choice to leave when she chooses (e.g. Season 8-- to be discussed in future.) Without her, Mulder’s life would become chaotically imbalanced, thrown about on every whim that promised to satisfy, toyed with by every voice that sold him lies; and without him, she would be confused and lose faith in herself and her choices.

This child was not meant to be... but what about those that were? That is a meta for another time~.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

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PRIMA PAGINA La Discussione di Oggi martedì, 17 settembre 2024

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minigame XXIV

self-portraits of polish artists! i have three parts of this planned to be posted as three consecutive minigames, so if you do not see your fav artist's self-portrait posted today you might yet see it in the upcoming weeks. as usual with minigames, paintings that were competing in the tournaments were disqualified (sorry, bilińska...)

tap to view full images

[bengals-barnesbabe]

“Thank You TikTok” Masterlist

~ a series of text imagines between you and Joe all inspired by random TikTok videos ~

Started: 12 September 2024

Last Updated: 31 December 2024

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

fluff - 🌞 smut - 🌚 mix - 🌗 angst - ☄️

most popular - 🌙 newest - ⚡️ request - 💫

i. booktok ~ ever since he downloaded TikTok, Joe’s learnt a lot more about his beautiful bookworm 🌗

ii. say high ~ Joe takes part in some recreational activities and tries (and fails) to hide it from those who know him the best 🌗💫

iii. the real afterparty ~ y/n comes across a TikTok of a bride and groom doing a wardrobe change together, so naturally, she asks her fiance his opinion 🌚

iv. happy weight ~ nothing says a great relationship like two people falling in love while getting fat together, well that’s what TikTok says 🌖

v. pay attention ~ cons to working with your man... he's you're a distraction 🌞

vi. come home ~ it’s been a while since you’ve seen your man, so you left him a present🌒

vii. how that shit tastes ~ they say it's a man's drink so you've never tried it, so you ask your man about his drink of choice 🌗

viii. you like that ~ inspired by another TikTok, Joe compiles a list of things he likes about you🌖

ix. babies ~ you tell your husband about your daughter's supermarket antics, and he gets baby fever? 🌖

x. heroes & princes ~ everyone makes mistakes, even great boyfriends but especially if he has Tee and Ja’Marr as friends 🌞

xi. roses ~ you have a new favorite song and a certain TikTok gives you an idea on how to introduce it to your man 🌚

xii. you're enough ~ you and Joe feel losses hard, so you try your best to make him feel better after this one 🌖

xiii. i can fix her ~ you end up on Joe's fyp for the worst reason possible ☄️

xiv. im a fan ~ Joe finds your secret TikTok account in the best way possible 🌖

xv. it's just a trend ~ you participate in a certain dance trend with a song Joe does not like ☄️ 🌖

xvi. hey shawty ~ you watched a TikTok on how to domesticate your boyfriend, let's see how he does ☄️🌞

xvii. treat me ~ despite always receiving royalty treatment from your boyfriend, you decide to tease him with one of your favorite songs🌚

xviii. ruined me ~ Joe ruined you for all men, this is how he reacts when you tell him 🌗

xix. hey daddy ~ in order to keep your relationship fresh, you do what all couples do... send each other ridiculous pick up lines 🌘

xx. boyfriend blindness ~ your boyfriend becomes a comedian, so you have to show him who he's playing with 🌖

xxi. mini gossip girl ~ your daughter comes home and spills everything about her dad's life 🌞

xxii. daddy duties ~ Joe's left alone for more than a few hours with his boys and chaos ensues 🌞

xxiii. mini gossip girl 2 ~ your daughter is at it again, but this time it works out in Joe's favor🌖

xxiv. talkin nonsense ~ relationships should be fun, especially when you both are on the same level 🌘

xxv. speechless ~ you sent your friend Joe some messages that were not for him to see 🌖

xxvi. mini gossip girl 3 ~ now older, your daughter's mouth reveals some truths she was not ready for 🌖

xxvii. bye week ~ Joe gets caught lying to his pregnant wife 🌖

xxviii. wait, pause ~ you and joe are in the middle of a fight, but he has some tea to spill 🌗☄️💫

xxix. we listen and we don't judge ~ Joe has an idea, Joe regrets his idea 🌖☄️💫

xxx. tatted truths ~ your true feelings for Joe are exposed by decisions you made on one drunken night 🌘

xxxi. hearts on deck ~ ~Joe needs to apologize for his acts… in his fiancée’s dream 🌗☄️💫

xxxii. bending your rules

xxxiii. just friends ~ 🌗💫

updates about twice a week🪷

requests to join this series are open! just send me a quote or link to a video and your fav pic of Joe (along with anything else you desire) to be included!

[moamidzyism]

one for the road (h.kk + k.th)

ʚ♡⃛ɞ another tale of boy likes girl... but so does his best friend.

fluff + angst ౨ৎ ୨୧ huening kai x fem!reader x kang taehyun, rockstar!au, college!au, suggestive featuring all members of txt, all of itzy, wonbin from riize, yunjin from le sserafim, ningning from aespa, and huening lea started. sep 1 ended. dec 29 status. completed posting schedule. sundays, tuesdays, thursdays, saturdays [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

event masterlist

profiles: protagonists and friends

i. opening sequence ii. it could be fun iii. the battle begins iv. 365 party girl v. lea's fan club and others vi. party animals (written; 749 words) vii. slut acknowledging viii. score! ix. twice as hard x. ayahuasca in bali xi. sucks to suck! xii. the plot thickens (written; 781 words) xiii. round of eight xiv. relationships r hard xv. the most wonderful time of the year xvi. project partners (written; 1122 words) xvii. which could mean anything xviii. busy busy bees xix. crazier things have happened xx. party of the century (written + smau; 2119 words) xxi. the girls are fighting xxii. the end of an era (written; 1008 words) xxiii. the whole house sad xxiv. is this fucking play about us? xxv. weird n good xxvi. care xxvii. cherry xxviii. tiny moves (written; 1551 words) xxix. sinners (written; 910 words) bonus chapter. so what had happened was? (written + smau; 2016 words) xxx. real love baby

comment or send an ask to join the taglist for this series! fill out this form to join my permanent taglist! author's note: if you saw the first iteration of this series, no you didn't! this is part of my college au series~ also disclaimer: all depictions of any idols in this are fictional, for story telling purposes only. every idol included in this i love and i do not feel negatively about them !

[rollingsins]

all hers, epilogue

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Tara and YN try their hand at some healthier habits.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence. Smut.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: it's been a wild ride. thanks for all who have come along. all hers is over, but I will still be writing gf!tara drabbles in the same universe - maybe some college oneshots in the drabble files. Until then: enjoy the final chapter! :)) 

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months, slowly, the pain subsides.

Your normal? It’s potentially forever gone. It shouldn’t be a surprise, at this point.

Once you’d just been a teenage girl, crazily in love with another girl.

Who turned out to be a serial killer. Who’d somehow turned you into a killer.

Who’d made you cry, and laugh and love harder than you’d ever loved in your entire life.

In the grand scheme of things - the scar on your belly is probably the least of your worries.

But that doesn’t stop you toiling on it.

It always seems to be the way, doesn’t it? Worrying about the things that don’t really matter.

You worry nonetheless.

“It’s pretty,” Tara murmurs in comfort when you’re staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, shirt lifted slightly, eyebrows pinched in dismay.

It’s not pretty.

It’s wiry and long and stems from the tip of your bellybutton down to your navel.

“It’s hideous.” You say, voice a little fraught.

It’s hideous and permanent.

You’ll never be able to wear a bikini again. You’ll never be able to take your shirt off again without being reminded of it.

Of her.

The woman who had tormented you for weeks.

The woman who you’d tormented for weeks. The woman whose son you’d taken from her. The woman who’d repaid you in mental scars to last a lifetime.

A belly scar to last a lifetime.

“It’s beautiful,” Tara says, pressing her lips to your shoulder, “It means you’re alive.”

She squeezes your hips, then lifts her own shirt.

“And it matches mine,” She says, eyes shimmering, “Matching knife wounds. Like soulmates.”

You snort.

Because of course Tara tries to make stab wounds romantic.

But to her credit - it works.

Your heart sings.

Soulmates.

Because that’s what you are.

“Who needs a wedding ring, right?” You say, biting your lip, insecurities suddenly fading.

Tara entwines your hands, lifts the back of your hand to her lips.

“You do,” Tara says, “And you’ll have one. Soon. I promise.”

You pull back.

“Not before-“

“College,” Tara says, rolling her eyes, “I know, babe.”

You press a lingering kiss to her cheek.

“I just don’t want to be one of those couples who rush into marriage and fall apart the moment they turn twenty-one.”

“That won’t be us,” Tara whines, and then she pouts, “Plenty of high school sweethearts get married right after high school.”

You groan.

“Tara, we talked about this already-“

“I know,” Tara says, voice hasty, “I’m just excited. I want you to be Mrs. Carpenter already.”

“Mrs Carpenter, huh?” You say, ignoring the fluttery rush that blooms through you at the thought, “And what if I want you to take my name?”

Tara cocks a brow and considers this.

“I don’t care, babe, I’ll change my name to garden gnome if you want, as long as I get to be your wife.” She says after a moment.

You smile. Squeeze her hand.

“You’d suit it,” You tease, “But Mrs and Mrs Carpenter has a nice ring to it.”

Tara tilts her head hopefully.

“So, maybe a high school wedding?” She asks, voice sly, “Mrs Carpenter would look good on your college application forms.”

You press a warm kiss to her lips.

“There’s no rush, babe,” You tell her, “And I need to save up. Get you a pretty ring.”

Tara squints.

“I’m proposing first,” She says immediately, “You promised, babe.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yes, you baby, I know.”

Tara tilts her head, seemingly satisfied.

You press a kiss to her lips. She’s cured your insecurity, for now.

But a new feeling gnaws at the bottom of your stomach.

Dread.

As you realize what comes next. You try to keep your voice light. Lighter than the heavy pit at the bottom of your stomach.

“Come on,” You say, trying and failing not to sound anxious, “It’s time for therapy.”

-

Dr Colmann is a five foot woman with long, flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

Her office is bland. Gray walls. Little decoration.

Like she wants your attention on her.

You’d met her first, a few weeks ago. Like a pterodactyl scouting out a potential nest for her baby.

Your situation is tricky - there’s only so much you can tell her.

And you’re no doctor - but even you know surely it’s impossible to diagnose an illness without knowing all the symptoms.

“I want to get something out of the way,” You’d said after a long moment, clearing your throat.

Dr Colmann had looked over at you, pen tilted and ready to write. With all the intimidation of a woman who was about to change your life.

“I’m aware my girlfriend is…” You had paused, trying to think of the right word, “A little… possessive.”

Dr Colmann said nothing.

“I know that, and that’s why we’re looking for help.” You’d bitten your lip, nervous, “And I’m also sure the first thing you’re going to tell me is to leave her. But that isn’t going to happen. I love her. And she loves me. We’re looking for coping methods. I want to help her feel secure. But I will not break up with her.”

Dr Colmann had just listened.

Her silence, if possible, made you all the more nervous.

“She’s not abusive or anything,” You’d clarified, hastily, “She doesn’t hurt me. She just gets… jealous.”

“And what does she do when she gets jealous?” She’d asked, finally breaking her silence.

“Um-“ You’d said, voice a little high. Memories flashed before you like nightmares and you’d been entirely grateful your thoughts couldn’t be seen.

“She lashes out. Not at me. At other people.”

Dr Colmann scribbled something in her notepad. Long, wiry, black inky marks.

You’d squinted, trying to make up the words, but she’d looked back at you before you’d had the chance.

“Do you have any examples?” Dr Colmann prompted.

You paused.

You had a fair few of those.

None of which you could disclose.

“Little things,” You said, “I used to play soccer. But I had to quit because Tara thought some of the girls might become interested in me.”

You chew your lip.

“And… I was just in the hospital. She got jealous of the nurse.”

“The nurse?”

“She tried to… give me a sponge bath and Tara freaked out.”

Dr Colman stared.

You swallowed. The words out loud somehow seemed even more ridiculous than they are.

“How did she freak out?” Dr Colmann asked.

“She tried to…” You swallowed again, “She didn’t want the nurse to touch me again. Not even to change my bandages.”

Dr Colmann pursed her lips.

“I told her that was stupid,” You’d said, hurriedly, “But when she gets like that, nothing can stop her. She calls it The Rage.”

Dr Colmann tilted her head.

“The Rage?”

You’d nodded.

“Yeah. It’s like… it’s like something takes over her. Like a demon or something. Something she can’t control.”

Dr Colmann had closed her notebook. She’d looked over at you, surveying. You’d blinked back, eyes wide, surely screaming help me, or something to that effect.

Then, she smiled.

“When can I meet her?”

-

You’re no less nervous the second time.

You greet Dr Colmann with a tight smile, draw Tara down into the seat next to you. Your knee bobs up and down, unable to quell the tide of anxiety rising deep within you.

Please, you think, a little desperate, please help her.

As Tara and Dr Colmann exchange pleasantries, you blink. Too many times.

Like you don’t know how this is going to go. The worst case scenario flashes before you: Dr Colmann in a body bag.

Tara in a jail cell.

You in a jail cell.

Never able to touch her, or hold her, or kiss her ever again.

You need therapy, the little voice in your head leers, judgmental, not being with Tara is worse than a woman dying?

“So, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, when you’re all seated. With all the cheeriness of someone who isn’t aware you’re imagining her as a corpse.

“Tell me about The Rage.”

An awkward silence settles over the three of you.

Tara shoots a hesitant look towards you.

You squeeze her hand and nod.

Then, she looks over to Dr Colmann.

“It’s an anger thing,” Tara mumbles, not looking her in the eye, “I’ve seen shrinks before, none of them can fix it.”

Dr Colmann tilts her head.

“And what did these other doctors do?” She asks, “Anger management classes? Medication?”

“Both,” Tara says, “Nothing ever worked.”

Dr Colmann hums.

“I’ve read through your file, Tara,” She says gently, “Fourteen different therapists across the state. That’s a lot of doctors. Especially for such a young girl.”

Tara assesses her. Her face is tight, guarded. Like she’s not sure if she can quite trust her.

Dr Colmann scribbles something in her notepad.

“Lots of kids have problems with anger,” Says Dr Colmann, “But anger is just a symptom, like any other emotion. From what YN has told me, anger isn’t the problem. Sharing is the problem.”

Tara frowns.

“Plenty of children have issues with sharing,” Dr Colmann continues, “Usually, it’s the parents who stamp it out. But not always. I see in your file your sister used to bear the brunt of most of these anger issues.”

Tara folds her arms.

“Not always,” She says.

“But most of the time,” Says Dr Colmann, pointedly. She squints, reading through her notes, “It says here you attacked your sister when you were four years old because she tried to play with one of your Barbie dolls. Then again, later that week for taking a bigger slice of pie.”

“Four year olds are allowed to have boundaries, aren’t they?” Says Tara, defensively, “That Barbie was mine.”

“And YN? She’s yours too?” Asks Dr Colmann, evenly.

Tara blinks.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tara says, diplomatically. The question is a trap, one she’s determined to avoid.

Dr Colmann tilts her head.

“And you don’t like when other people play with her? Is that right?”

Anger flickers through Tara’s features. You bite your lip, and squeeze her hand. Try to keep her grounded.

“I suppose not.” Says Tara, voice tight.

“YN told me about the nurse,” Dr Colmann says, “And the soccer team. You made her quit? Why?”

Tara looks over to you, a little helpless.

“I didn’t make her quit,” She says, slowly, like she’s being very careful with her words, “I just… suggested it. Strongly.”

Dr Colmann makes a noise of dissatisfaction.

Then returns to madly scribbling on her notepad.

Tara frowns again, looking self-conscious.

Dr Colmann looks up.

“And what if someone on the soccer team had been interested?” Dr Colmann asks, “What would you have done?”

You avert your gaze.

Kill them, is the answer.

It’s already happened.

More than once.

Tara shifts.

“I wouldn’t like it.” Tara says.

“No reasonable person would like that, Tara,” Dr Colmann prods, gently, “But what would you do?”

“I don’t know,” Says Tara, sounding aggravated, “Not let her see them anymore.”

“And do you think that’s an appropriate request?” Dr Colmann asks, “Do you really think you should have control over who your girlfriend associates with?”

Tara narrows her eyes.

“YN would do it for me,” She says, “We’re in a relationship. Relationships are about compromise.”

“That isn’t compromise, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, gently, “That’s you demanding she do something and her complying. Do you not trust her?”

Tara blinks.

She looks over to you, then back to Dr Colmann.

“Of course I do,” She says, voice soft, “It’s other people I don’t trust.”

“And what do you think these other people are going to do?” Dr Colmann asks.

“I don’t know.” Tara says, voice small, as if she’s never really thought that far ahead.

She looks like a little lost puppy. You want to wrap her in your arms and tell her you’ll never talk to anybody else again if that’s what she wants.

You resist.

Healthy wife, happy life, is what you tell yourself instead.

Dr Colmann’s face washes with sympathy.

“Jealousy is pointless, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, voice gentle, “Worrying is pointless. If YN is going to cheat on you, she’ll cheat on you. If she’s going to leave you, she’ll leave you. There’s nothing you - or The Rage can do about it.”

Tara blinks.

“I-“ She says, as if Dr Colmann has just spit in her face “What?”

Dr Colmann sits forward in her seat. Her notebook discarded.

“What you need to do - is trust. Your girlfriend loves you. Clearly. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”

Tara frowns.

“You’re afraid of losing her,” Dr Colman says, eyebrows knit, as if Tara is a particularly difficult puzzle she can’t quite get her head around, “But why? We’ve already established she loves you. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”

Tara blinks. You soothe a finger across the back of her hand. Resist the urge to press a kiss to her pretty forehead.

You let the doctor do the work.

“Have other people you loved left you, Tara?” Dr Colmann prods, gently.

Tara’s shoulders tense.

Dr Colmann waits a moment.

“Who?” She asks, "Your Mom? Your Dad?”

“Both.” Tara says, voice small, “They both left me.”

Your heart aches.

If you could - you’d sucker punch the two of them right now.

It isn’t an option. Instead - you grip her hand tight, offer her a small smile of encouragement as she speaks.

Tara swallows.

“My Dad tried to fix me,” Tara says, “For years. I was an angry kid. They could never figure out what was wrong with me. Eventually he just… gave up. He walked out on me and My Mom and my sister. Left us, just like that.”

“That must have been very traumatic,” Says Dr Colmann, “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.” Says Tara, “My Mom never left. I mean, she did. She threw herself into work to cope with my Dad leaving. She started going on these long business trips. But she never officially left.”

Dr Colmann offers her a small smile, “And that’s why you get so jealous, is it Tara? You’re afraid YN will leave you? Like your Mom? Like your Dad?”

Tara hesitates.

She looks down at her hands.

“Yes.” She says, after a long moment.

“Baby,” You say, voice hushed. Tara squeezes your fingers.

Dr Colmann hums.

“That makes a lot of sense, Tara,” She says, her voice kind, “That gives us something to work with.”

She closes her notepad, offers the two of you a reassuring smile.

“Your anger - we can work through that. We can figure out some coping methods. But the main problem here isn’t anger, Tara. It’s trust. I know you said you trust YN but you’re still scared. Deep down you’re scared she’ll abandon you, just like your parents did. We need to work through that.”

“Is it something we can fix?” You ask, a tad desperate.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d promised Tara you’d never leave her.

And each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears the moment The Rage was invoked.

“We can try,” Dr Colmann says, “I can try. And it’ll take some hard work. But Tara, it’ll only work if you’re open to it. If you’re open to changing. Is that something you can do?”

Tara thinks for a moment.

And then she nods.

“Yeah,” She says, “I want to do it. I want to be different. For you, babe,”

She squeezes your hand. Thinks hard.

“And for me too."

-

You’re silent the entire way home.

Tara too.

She grips your hand so hard you think it might fall off at one point. It’s only when she pulls into the driveway, she speaks.

“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” She asks, chewing her lip as she looks over at you, “With all my… problems.”

“Never, baby,” You say immediately.

You lean over to kiss her cheek. She relaxes.

“I’m going to need a lot of therapy, aren’t I?” She says, sounding worried.

You press another warm kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be with you the whole way,” You assure, “I'm not going anywhere, Tara.”

You hesitate.

“You know I’m not like your Dad, right?” You say, “Or your Mom. I’m not going to leave you.”

Tara offers you a small smile.

“I know, babe,” She says, “At least in theory, I know.”

You press a kiss to her lips.

“I guess I’ll just have to remind you then,” you say, “Everyday. I love you. You’re stuck with me. I’ll say it until you believe me in theory and in practice.”

Tara rests her forehead against yours.

“Okay,” She says, “And keep saying it after that, okay babe?”

You kiss her.

“Deal.”

-

Your Mom’s still in the hospital.

Her leg had been amputated after the attack, and the procedure hadn’t been easy on her or your Dad. She’d come home after two weeks and then been admitted once more when the wound became infected.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask her now, chewing your lip, phone pressed to your ear.

Tara finishes up the dishes, setting down the washcloth to nestle in beside you, squeezing your hip comfortingly.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” She says, “Will you come and visit tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there,” You promise, “Sam is going to pick us up after school.”

“And everything’s alright at the house?” Enquires your Mom.

You were staying at Tara’s place until your parents came back home, a decision that was quickly agreed on, for once.

“Everything’s fine, Mom,” You assure, “Sam’s working now, but she’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

Your Mom hums.

“And Tara’s there with you, isn’t she?” She asks, sounding a little worried, “You’re not alone?”

“Tara’s here,” You say and Tara kisses the back of your neck, “You don’t have to worry, Mom.”

“Is that Tara?” Asks your Dad through the phone, a little gruff, “Can I speak with her?’

“Dad wants to speak to Tara, YN, bye for now,” Says your Mom, “See you tomorrow.”

You barely get out the goodbye before you hear your Dad’s voice once more.

“Tara?” He asks.

“It’s me Dad,” You say, and he makes a noise of vague disappointment.

You roll your eyes.

“We’re fine, thanks for asking.” You say.

“Yes, yes, I heard you speak with Mom,” He assures, “Put Tara on the phone.”

You hand off the phone to your girlfriend and pry yourself out of her grip, busying yourself with playing the leftovers into their containers.

“Hello, Sir,” Says Tara, the way you might speak to the President.

She bobs her head, eyebrows knitting.

“Yes, I did see the 49ers play.”

You huff.

Tara averts her gaze.

“Yes, I did think they played like a bunch of seven year old girls.”

You roll your eyes once more.

Tara’s newfound friendship with your Dad is better than the alternative, at least. You’d lived the alternative.

It hadn’t been much fun.

“We’re okay,” Tara promises, suddenly, “I have every door locked down, alarms set and cameras operating.”

Your Dad murmurs something down the line you can’t hear.

Tara smiles, and then reaches for your hand.

“I’m not letting her out of my sight, Sir, you don’t have to worry,” She says, “I won’t let anyone hurt her. I promise.”

She hangs up not long after.

You should be used to it by now, the flutter in the pit of your stomach every time she gets protective, or calls you hers, but you’re not.

Butterflies cascade through your belly, branching out to the tips of your fingertips where they settle. You curl in around Tara and press your lips to her neck.

She smells good. No perfume, just the tinge of her skin and her coconut body wash.

You squeeze her hips and nip your teeth against the nape of her neck.

“Oh.” Tara sighs as you slip your fingers into the waistband of your jeans. She leans back into your touch, titling your head to capture your lips.

“Really?” She asks, a little excited.

You laugh.

You’d not had sex in a few weeks, hardly in the mood. Your wound aches most days, and the rest are spent really remarkably unsexy, despite Tara’s constant reassurance you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.

She turns in your arms, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Sam won’t be home for hours,” You murmur against her lips, “Just you and me. The way it should be.”

“Your stomach doesn’t hurt?” She asks, a little soft. Her eyes swim with concern, “We can just watch a movie, if you want?”

You shake your head.

She looks good. Her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. No makeup, her spill of freckles poignant, her pretty lips pouty and red and kissable.

“I want you, baby,” You murmur, nuzzling your nose to the side of her face, “Do you want me too?”

You don’t have to wait long for a response.

She presses a searing kiss to your lips.

“Do you even have to ask?” She says, biting her lip.

“No,” You smile, “But I want to hear you say it anyway.”

“I want you,” She says, immediately. She’s excited again, you can tell by the way her eyes flicker, “I want you all the time.”

“Come take me then,” You murmur against her mouth.

She doesn’t have to be told twice.

She leads you up the staircase, walking backwards. Her mouth fused to yours, her careful hands roaming every span of skin she can get her hands on.

She helps you onto the bed, far gentler than her usual gig of wild hands and wild lips. Instead, this time she touches you as if you might shatter into a thousand pieces.

You make an annoyed murmur as she pulls your jeans down your legs. It feels like an age, the way she softly untangles the button and the zipper. Her touch is light, so un-Tara.

When she finally pulls your legs from your jeans, you almost cry out of frustration.

“Babe, I’m not going to break.” You tell her, but it falls on deaf ears.

She’s pressing her lips to your thigh, tiny, gentle touches as she pulls your underwear down your legs at a pain-stakingly slow pace.

“Don’t rush me, babe,” She says as you reach down to help her, “And lie back. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I feel fine,” You say, tilting up to meet her kiss, “Please hurt me.”

Tara huffs, drawing back slightly.

“It’s not fair to say things like that when you know I can’t.” She pouts, “The things I want to do to you will almost certainly rip your stitches.”

Arousal coils deep in your belly.

Then annoyance.

“Now who's not being fair?” It’s your turn to pout.

Tara nudges her lips to your neck.

“I’m going to make love to you, baby-girl,” She promises, her eyes dark, “That’s more than fair.”

You tilt your head up and press a lingering kiss to her lips.

“Besides. If I rip your stitches I think your Dad will have something to say.”

You wrinkle your nose.

“Let’s not talk about my Dad when we’re getting naked, babe,” You suggest.

She hums in agreement.

And then you reach for her shirt.

“Off.”

If she’s going to spend the entire evening getting your underwear down your legs, the least she can do is give you something to look at, you reason.

Your touch is impatient.

You pry off her jeans like there’s a time limit. Strip her of her shirt and her bra until she’s hovering naked above you, making your mouth water.

And suddenly, what little patience you had left is gone.

You rise up, starling her.

“Babe-“ She protests, but you can’t be reasoned with.

You tilt her around, until she’s lying back on the mattress, nudging her bare legs apart with your thighs.

“Too slow, my turn.” You murmur.

Your lips are hungry.

You kiss her, fierce, groaning slightly as your hands get to work. They work down the curve of her hips, to her thighs. You squeeze her, a little rough, and then move your hands to take her nipples between your fingers.

She gasps, her hips involuntarily jerking up towards yours. You detangle yourself from her lips, leaning down to press hot kisses against her neck.

She threads her fingers through your hair, tugging, tugging, as she moves against you. She’s still holding back, being careful not to touch your stomach.

You can tell by the way she’s groaning it’s hard for her.

And so you make it easy.

Your lips move down from her neck to her breasts. You circle each nipple once, then twice, before you’re taking her in your mouth, curling your arms around each of her thighs.

“Baby,” Tara murmurs, “Baby, your stomach-“

You release her nipple with a wet pop and a frown.

“I’m fine, babe.” You say, and it’s true.

It aches, slightly, but it always does nowadays. No matter what you’re doing.

And if it’s her you’re doing, at least the ache is dampened by the forest fire of arousal surging through your veins.

You return to your pilgrimage down her body.

Your lips graze her belly-button, your tongue slips down over the jut of her hips to the crest of her thighs.

She sighs, seemingly satisfied as you slip down further. Moving your body to settle nicely in between her legs.

Then, she tilts her head up, biting her lip.

Her eyes are hesitant, though encompassed with want.

“Tell me if it hurts,” She says, “Tell me and we can stop. Or…re-adjust.”

You nod, impatient.

“Alright babe, I will,” You say, raising an eyebrow, “Can I go down on you now?”

Her cheeks flush red with arousal.

“Please.” She whispers.

She’s beautiful, as ever.

You press your lips against the soft skin of her inner thighs, grazing your lips just gently. You use your tongue to work your way inwards.

Your breath catches in your throat the moment you taste her. Wet, syrupy, bittersweet goodness.

You lick it up, greedy for more. You press your lips to her folds, use your hands to spread her open for you. You lose control of your tongue.

One minute you’re ready to tease, the next, you’ve worked yourself up too much.

Your tongue moves hot across her folds and then down to her entrance. Your top lip brushes her clit and she sings.

A low moan that vibrates through the room.

A moan that indicates it’s been far too long since you’ve touched her like this.

You apologize with your mouth.

Low strokes of your tongue at her entrance. The quiet murmur of your own moan as your tongue moves up to circle her clit.

Lazy, slow, movements.

Then fast.

Like you’re changing your own mind too quickly.

You settle for writing words with your tongue.

babygirl, is what you spell out against her clit.

Your name. Her name. You connect them with a heart.

And then: mine.

Tara lets out a quiet moan as you take her clit between your lips. Sucking gently until her thighs are gripping like iron bars around the side of your head and her nails against your scalp bruise.

You give up on using the alphabet.

You slip two fingers inside her, sighing as she encases you. She’s tight and wet and begging for more.

You give it to her.

Curl your fingers up in just the right way. Lap your tongue over her clit just the way she likes.

And then she’s gasping as she tightens around you. She cries your name in a breathy moan as she cums hard around your fingers and mouth.

It’s always over too quickly, you think briefly as you reluctantly slip out of her. You need to learn patience. You need to learn how to tease.

But there’s something about her, and you don’t know how she does it. You just have to give her what she wants.

She lets out a happy sigh as you climb up her body and press your lips to her forehead.

She’s still a moment, but you know better. She recovers quickly.

In less than a minute she’s shifting.

You groan as your back hits the mattress.

Her hands slip down to your thighs, gripping you like she has an agenda. And she does. You know it by heart.

First, the gentle touch of her lips against your neck.

Then she’s sliding your underwear down your legs.

She kisses your lips, slips her tongue into your mouth for only a moment. And then she’s trailing kisses down your body.

Your chest. Your breasts.

She pays special attention to your nipples. Her eyes locking with yours as she sucks, ever so gently.

Your body feels hot.

You grip her face, holding her in place.

And then she’s nudging out of your grip, dipping down to press her lips to your navel.

She doesn’t kiss your scar, but you can tell she wants to.

She looks up at you, eyes wide and vulnerable as she squeezes your hips.

“You’re beautiful.” She murmurs. She ducks down and presses a kiss to the top of your inner thigh, “You’re perfect. My perfect girl.”

“Tara,” You say, voice a little gravelly, “Baby, please.”

She doesn’t make you wait.

One moment she’s pressing her lips to your thigh. The next, she’s dipping down between your legs. You lean back onto the pillows with a sigh.

Her lips graze.

She kisses your inner thigh.

Drags her tongue over your entrance and you gasp.

Then, her lips are on your clit.

You moan as she snakes a hand around your waist. The other slips between your legs. She teases for only a moment before she’s slipping her fingers inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.

It’s not as though you’re not ready for it.

You’re so wet you’d give her a snorkel if she wasn’t such an experienced sailor.

But she rides your high seas like it’s her full time job.

Lips on your clit, fingers working in and out. She squeezes your hip with her free hand. Her talented mouth is like fire. Dancing around just where you need it most.

You close your eyes and let out a low moan.

She’s being careful.

Gentle.

Loving you like she doesn’t want to hurt you.

You take back the impatience. You take back the need for more, more, more.

Your sweet, loving girlfriend is all you need.

Gentle mouth. Careful tongue.

Her between your legs, working you into oblivion like sex is just a vehicle to express how deeply she loves you.

“Tara.”

You cum with her name on your lips. Her mouth fused around your lips. You cum feeling safe and wanted and needed.

And when she’s done, she climbs back up your body and presses the softest kiss to your lips.

Nestles herself with her head in your chest. Right next to your heartbeat.

Where she should be.

You close your eyes once more.

Thread your fingers through her hair. Press the softest of kisses to her forehead.

And then she looks up at you, her pretty brown eyes shimmering.

“Love you.” She murmurs. She punctuates her words with a kiss.

Your chest is heaving. You allow yourself the moment. Body thrumming with your orgasm, the love of your life pressed tight to your side.

Tara curls into you. She waits a moment, then looks over at you,

“I’m going to be better for you,” She murmurs, “I’ve put you through hell, baby, and I know that. But it all ends now.”

You frown.

“I’m in heaven with you, no matter what you’ve done,” You say, after a quiet moment, “After what we’ve both done. Right or wrong, I love you. And you love me. And that’s all that matters.”

Tara tilts her head to yours.

She takes your lips in a long, searing kiss.

She says what she can’t with words.

You say it too.

And when you pull back, you know she understands.

She’s yours.

And you are undeniably, irrefutably, entirely:

All hers. 

[grugruel]

Masterlist

All my fics are labeled oldest to newest to keep track of how my writing improves!

On requests and asks: I might not write every request im sent, but I appreciate getting them all the same!

I'll write most things if I find the suggestion interesting (supplying me with prompts/ideas/wishes is really helpful).

Consent and appropriate reader age are crucial in my fics, I wont write something that's lacking in either.

And please, if you have any critique feel free to tell me. I really want to improve my writing!🎀

I also really appreciate you guys interacting with- and commenting on my posts!☺️

Personal favs = ⭐️

Angst = 🎭

Fluff = 🎀

Smut = ❗️

Arthur Morgan (RDR2)

Saint, or Sinner. ❗️🎀 XII

Big Iron | bounty hunter!Arthur Morgan x outlaw!f!reader❗️XIV

You've Kissed Me For Less ❗️XXII

Benedict Bridgerton (Bridgerton)

The Artist and the flower ❗️🎀 XX

Bucky Barnes (MCU)

An Affair to Remember | collegue!bucky❓️I

Bad News | dbf!bucky

- Part 1 | Baring Throats❗️🎭⭐️ VII

- Part 2 | Cold Thoughts❗️🎭 VIII

Let the Light in | priest!bucky❗️🎭🎀⭐️IIX

Little bit | roommate!bucky❗️🎭 XI

Movement | mob!bucky ❗️ XIII

Save A Horse | cowboy!bucky❗️🎀 X

The Girl Who Cried Cowboy | dbf!cowboy!bucky❗️🎭⭐️ XV

Your Daddy Know 'bout This? | dbf!cowboy!bucky❗️🎭 XXI

Wicked Game | cop!bucky❗️IX

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul (Fallout)

His little killer ❗️XVII

Say it again ❗️🎀 🎭 ⭐️ XVIII

Quiet on Set | pre-war!Cooper Howard ❗️ XIX

Father Paul Hill (Midnight Mass)

Lust for Vampyr ❗️ III

Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)

In progress

Silco (Arcane)

The Game❓️ II

Sleeping With the Enemy | ❗️🎭⭐️ XXVII

Blue Eyes | young!silco x f!reader❗️🎀 XXIII

Jayce (Arcane)

Can you do that for me? | ruined!jayce x f!reader ❗️🎀 🎭 XXII

Taking Care of Her | ruined!jayce x wife!f!reader ❗️🎀 XXV

Viktor (Arcane)

Keeping Him Company | ❗️🎭 XXIV

William Afton (FNAF)

Fun at Fazbear's❗️ IV

Horrific findings, sweet nothings❗️🎭⭐️ V

Princess❗️ VI

[inurnctdreams]

it’s the way you are - l.dh

haechan x fem!reader

genre: fluff, comedy, strangers to lovers, college au, soccer au, smau with a couple of written portions

warnings: dark humour, suggestiveness, lots of swearing, mentions of general frat/college shenanigans (e.g. drinking, smoking etc.), the author’s lack of both fraternity and sporting knowledge lmao, mainly nct but idols from other groups are also here

status: ongoing (updates every saturday!)

y/n suh is going into her second semester of her sophomore year at snu. as a self-proclaimed snu lions fangirl, she can’t believe there’s a new player on the team she hasn’t met yet, especially one as cute and funny as lee donghyuck, who nearly everyone she knows seems to already be friends with. how did she manage to avoid him (even if unintentionally) for almost an entire year and a half? he seems way too good to be true… and then she remembers; he’s in the frat.

taglist (open): @ilovejungwonandhaechan @neozon3nha @sunflowerbebe07 @minkyuncutie @multifandomania @amrqxz @wonbin-truther @livingdoll-hara @gomdoleemyson @sehunniepot @remgeolli @gela0205

profiles:

the too broke for therapy squad

the mark take a break challenge (impossible) squad

the y/n’s fake older bros (1 real) squad

chapters:

i. HE’S MY HERO

ii. what is yuta putting in their water

iii. you’re a menace to mankind

iv. yay capitalism

iv s. does he not know

v. okay and what’s wrong with jeno?

vi. SO NO YANGY/N??

vii. rawr XD

vii s. alexa play hands up by 2pm

viii. are you starting a freshman babysitting service? (written)

ix. what’s the opposite of slut shaming

x. you’re not okay

xi. bros before hoes and all that

xii. men ain’t shit

xii s. that’s the goal… ha, get it?

xiii. just because you have the tastebuds of a five year old

xiv. rule two of sleepovers: never be the first to fall asleep 😈

xv. y’know they’ll hold you to that

xvi. you KNOW i love bitching

xvii. help they’re flirting on main now 😓

xviii. not a date

xix. normal day at the studio right?

xx. brownies take priority 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

xxi. i… was not aware he was doing that

xxii. SHOTS FIRED

xxii s. livin la vida loca 💚

xxiii. i’m not fuelling your ego even more (part-written)

xxiv. i don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger

xxv. drippin should just hire me at this point

xxvi. this is bullying i hate it here

xxvii.

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XXIX

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII, Part XXIII, Part XXIV, Part XXV, Part XXVI, Part XXVII, Part XXVIII

----------------------

“Satoru, this is [name]… Of course you know it’s me. Uh, anyway, I know you may not want to see me now, but I’m locked out of my apartment. You still have that spare key, right?... Could you come over?” your voice asked hesitantly. “Or send it with someone if you don’t wanna see me, but…” you sighed, ”I’d like to see you, Satoru. Really. I… I want to see you, okay?... Anyway, give me a call when you get a chance, please.” Silence. “I love you.”

How many times had he listened to that voicemail? Gojo was not sure, especially not now that time seemed to have slowed down for him.

He had come to the hospital as fast as he could, but he had not been able to see you yet. He had learned from Ieiri, who had made a brief stop by his side, that you were still in the operating room when he arrived. He wondered how bad your injuries were, what had happened in your apartment, who had hurt you, but above all, would you recover?

Yes, they will. They have to, Satoru told himself.

But it did not ease his concerns that Ieiri had not come back to give him an update in a while, or so it appeared to him, and those doctors and nurses parading in front of him from one side to another had not told him anything either.

What was taking them so long? Why had they brought you to that hospital? Shoko had explained to him you had been taken to the nearest hospital, and they had contacted her since she figured as your GP.

“I did some practices here in the past. The personnel are capable. They are in good hands,” Ieiri said after briefing Gojo on your current situation.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you treated them?” he asked without looking at her. Shoko could see just enough of that flash of blue behind Gojo's shades to know his eyes, as his mind, could not focus on anything now.

Crumpled shirt, wet hair...

She gave him a quick look before focusing on their surroundings. The hospital staff in white and blue threads, the other people waiting like them, and the persistent smell of antiseptic.

“I saw them,” she was talking about your injuries, “It wasn’t a curse, but I’ll do whatever I can as soon as I get a moment alone with them.”

It hung heavy over Ieiri that she had not been allowed into the operating room immediately after she arrived. However, she knew the medical staff were already doing all they could, all that was humanly possible, and what may be left for her to do was not meant for them to see.

She thought she saw Gojo nod in acknowledgement but when she turned to looked at him, he seemed to be entering a trance of his own.

“I’ll go in even if they kick me out and come to update you later, okay?” Shoko told the white-haired man sitting next to her before leaving him in the waiting room.

But it was already later, and Shoko had not come back, so Satoru turned to the only source of comfort he had right now and hit replay.

“Satoru, this is [name]…”

***

Shoko stared at your form.

Even after all bleeding had been stopped and a successful surgery to remove the bullet, and even after Shoko herself had treated you, she still did not like the numbers on your monitor or the fact that you showed no sign of coming back to consciousness.

She told herself it was probably a matter of time. You were to be kept under observation and if remaining stable, you would be moved to a room.

Now she was sitting close to your bed, doing just that, observing. She had been right, it was not a curse what did the most harm, but she knew cursed energy had definitely been used, and Gojo would pick on it too when he saw you.

“You asked me what the worst part of being a doctor was,” her voice was soft, without hesitation, although she did not usually talk to unconscious patients. “This is it, doing everything you can but not knowing if it has been enough.”

***

“Don’t you dare support this nonsense,” it was your mother’s voice.

Satoru had not meant to eavesdrop. He was there to visit, as he had kept doing over the last couple of years that he had been spending a lot of time in Tokyo, where he was to attend high school next year at Jujutsu High, with you. That if your mother allowed it.

“Aren’t there good schools here? They can attend any. It doesn’t have to be Tokyo. It doesn’t have to be that school.”

That school.

Of course.

Satoru had always known he would have to go to Tokyo. Unlike you, he had no choice. But when in the spring of your last year in junior high, you had told your mother you were planning to go learn jujutsu with him, she was not pleased. Anyway, it was surprising that six months later, she was still against it.

“Can you let them do what they want for once?” your father asked in that mild tone that made it difficult to say for certain if he was upset.

“Is it what they want or what you want?” she questioned with a hint of an accusation.

Your mother was not a sorcerer, never had been. Your father was, in fact, one of the few members of his own family who could see curses. Despite it, the woman he had married was familiar with the many caveats of the sorcerers' job and was not willing to let her child start a career that could likely lead them to their death, which she proceeded to state.

“Is that so? You either want you child dead or want them to continue following the Gojo heir even if it kills them,” she insisted.

“Enough,” your father barked. “It’s enough.”

She exited the room only to find the Gojo heir in the hall, who looked at her as if caught red-handed, but before he could give her any excuse, she spoke.

“[name] is not home yet but should be back soon,” and she left.

Satoru did not mind her sometimes straightforward treatment. She had looked as if she was about to cry.

When Satoru looked into the room your mother had fled, he found your father, looking at his untouched tea over the table, lost in thought. The sight of the boy pulled him back to his senses.

“Satoru,” he pronounced his name softly.

It was refreshing, Gojo thought. Most people at his family’s state had started to address him as they once addressed his father, treat him as the head of the clan he was bound to become despite him being just a teen. But not your father, to him, the powerful heir of the Gojo clan was just little Satoru, your friend.

“Did you..?” the man did not need to finish the question to know the boy had heard him arguing with his wife. “I see. I’m sorry you heard that.”

Satoru thought he should say something to him, but all he could do was ask the most natural question.

“Will [name] still come to Tokyo?”

He looked at him as if he had expected the question.

“If that is what they want.” Your father nodded. “I know the air is different there, and so are the curses. [name] has never left this town, so of course I worry.” He looked outside, half-expecting to see his wife’s disapproving stare from the yard, but she was not there. “But I know [name] will be fine because they will be with you.”

***

I failed you, sir.

I failed them too.

Satoru was not sure of how long he had dozed off. Maybe only a few minutes. That was fine, that was all the sleep he needed. I was enough to go through twenty-four more hours of waiting. Waiting for you to wake up.

He looked around the room you had been transferred to, spacious but small at the same time. Or maybe that was just his perception, the feeling that came with knowing he could not leave this room until you opened your eyes.

After your condition had shown little improvement, Ieiri had told him to go home, but there was no way he could leave. Never again.

“When was the last time we were this quiet in the same room?” he asked you although he knew there would be no answer.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again, feeling the need to talk to you even if you would not talk back.

“I’m sorry, [name].”

Had you been conscious, you would have known he was apologizing sincerely as his voice was almost a whisper.

“I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have let you leave.”

It came with a staggering sense of powerlessness, the realization that he had thought those same words after Suguru deflected years ago.

He put his hand over yours, the gesture was a silent plea for you to not leave him now too, and even if your hand was the coldest it had ever been and even if Satoru had never been religious, he allowed himself to pray to whatever gods there were that you could stay.

----------------------

Note: I'll proofread at some point... Anyway, it's our beloved's birthday eve (at least for me). How are you all?

Thanks for reading!

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke

[himasgod]

King Deshret x Reader IV part II

Where Deshret interrupts your wedding with a sincere apology and at the altar, next to Morax, you must decide what to do.

XXII.

The skies of Liyue were painted in gold and crimson as the sun slid behind the mountains. Nobles, merchants, yakshas and Archons from all nations gathered atop Mount Tianheng to witness the long-awaited union between Princess Phoenix and the Geo Archon. Everything was set for a marriage that promised to be legendary.

Under a canopy of red and gold silk, decorated with elegant floating lanterns, you stood, dressed in a red robe embroidered with symbols of your lineage. The melodies of the musicians filled the air, and yet, in your heart, you felt an emptiness that not even the splendor of the ceremony could fill. Beside you, Morax watched you calmly, his countenance calm as stone, but his golden eyes shining with a curiosity that you could not ignore.

“You are ready,” Morax whispered to you, his voice low and warm, though with a slight hesitation that only you could sense. “But if your heart hesitates, it is not too late to retreat.”

Before you could respond, a restless murmur spread through the crowd. All eyes turned to the entrance of the altar as an unexpected guest appeared:

King Deshret.

XXIII.

The imposing god walked towards you, defying the astonished gazes of those present. His golden robes were dusty, his eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. Despite his worn appearance, his bearing still held the nobility of a king. The Archons watched him in silence; Nabu Malikata, present in the crowd, had an expression full of sadness, knowing that he had come to reclaim what he had lost.

“My dearest, my Queen..." his voice echoed through the altar, a murmur full of regret. He knelt before you, something no one, not even you, would have imagined.

“I cannot… I cannot allow this wedding to take place without begging for your forgiveness.”

The gazes of the guests intensified. Morax, at your side, showed no emotion, but his presence was a constant reminder of the weight of your decision. Time seemed to stand still as Deshret, such a proud god, humbled himself before you.

“I lost my mind by choosing my ambitions and Nabu Malikata over you,” he continued, his voice cracking with despair. “I was a fool to let you go. I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it. I beg you… I beg you to give me one last chance to make amends for my mistakes.”

Tears threatened to fill your eyes, but you held firm.

For months, you had tried to forget the man who once meant everything to you, the one you had loved with a fervor that defied the gods and fate. But here he stood, before you, vulnerable and defeated.

XXIV.

Morax, witness to Deshret’s plea, took a step forward, his golden eyes assessing the situation.

“Deshret, your presence here defies the laws you yourself swore to uphold. This ceremony symbolizes the end of what you once had. Do not come to interrupt what is already decided.”

But before Morax could say more, you raised your hand to stop him. “Morax… please,” you murmured, your voice shaking slightly. He fell silent, respecting your wish.

Deshret looked at you, his eyes filled with hope, a hope that broke your heart.

“I know I have failed,” he said. “But I cannot live knowing that I will never see you again. I will give up everything for you, give up my dreams, my kingdom… if only you will give me the chance to love you one more time.”

The crowd watched in silence, as if the entire world had stopped breathing. You could feel the tension in the air, the silent judgement of the Archons and the nobles. But in that instant, all that mattered was the truth that lay in your heart.

XXV

You took a deep breath, and the words that fell from your lips were like a balm to Deshret’s soul.

“For so long, I hated you, Deshret,” you began, your eyes filled with tears.

“I hated you for abandoning me, for letting our flame be extinguished by your dreams of glory. But in this time, I have learned that holding on to that hatred has only chained me to the past.”

You moved closer to him, your shaking hands caressing his cheek covered in sand and sweat. “I forgive you, Deshret… not because you deserve it, but because I need to free myself from the weight your betrayal left on my heart.”

Deshret gasped, his eyes filled with childlike wonder, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But before he could speak, you looked at him with a firmness you had never shown before.

“However, my forgiveness does not mean that I belong to you again. I have learned to love myself more than any broken promise.”

Morax looked at you, his golden eyes shining with a glint that only you could understand. He had been willing to offer you the stability that Deshret had not give you. But your heart, despite all the pain, remained anchored to the god who now knelt before you.

You took a deep sigh and turned to Morax, who nodded in understanding before speaking.

“If it is your wish to return to him, I will not prevent you,” Morax said, his voice firm but with a tinge of sadness. “I only want you to find the peace you so deserve.”

XXVI.

You extended your hand to Deshret, helping him to his feet. He looked at you as if you were a miracle, a second breath of life that he never thought he would have again. “I am not going to marry Morax,” you said in a whisper that only Deshret and the Geo Archon could hear.

“But I cannot promise you that our relationship will be the same either. If you truly wish to regain what we had, you will have to prove to me that you have changed.”

Deshret nodded fervently, his eyes filled with determination. “I will do whatever it takes, my Queen, to win back your love. I will not fail you again.”

Morax, his dignity unwavering, stepped aside to allow the two of you to leave the altar. The crowd gasped as you and Deshret walked away together. The murmurs turned to a roar of disbelief, but you ignored them. In your heart, you felt like you had made the right decision, though the road to reconciliation would be long and arduous.

In the end, it wasn’t about returning to the past, but about building something new among the ruins of what once was.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 9k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. i don't even know what to say. i normally don't talk a lot and i'm mostly very unserious, but this is the last chapter of the farmouse and honestly, i'm super emotional about it. i'm really grateful for those of you who took the time to read and support this fic, every kind word has meant everything to me. i wrote this fic during a tough time when i needed warmth and joy, so i hope that this fic was able to bring even just a little bit of that for you while reading. (the writing of this chapter was quite literally delayed because my three year relationship ended midway through lol) this was also my first piece of writing in years and it's safe to say that i was able to fall in love with writing again because of this fic, so it'll always hold a special place in my heart. thank you times a hundred again <3 

part ten: the midsummer festivalㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ   previous. epilogue. masterlist

  xxiv. the midsummer festival

squeezing through bodies in the stands, it took all of your focus to not drop the popcorn and drinks wedged in your arms. you should have asked someone to come with you, but you were in such a rush, not wanting to miss a thing. finally, you made it to your seat, plopping yourself in between jiwon and yoongi, and your eyes remained fixed on the lawn the entire time.

  amber valley had the most beautiful days you’d ever laid eyes on and today was no exception. you weren’t sure if it was because of the natural charm in the sleepy town or a biased sense of nostalgia towards the countryside that you carried. the midsummer festival was held at the peak of the season, where humidity was as thick as honey and not a single cloud escaped being casted away from the cerulean of the sky. you had no choice but to throw on a tank top and shorts because anything else would feel like suffocation.

  “i didn’t miss anything, did i?” you didn’t mean to scream, but there was no other way for your voice to beat the crowd amongst yourselves.

  jiwon shook her head, her hair splaying from underneath the baseball hat that she so obviously stole from her brother. “no!”

  the show-jumping competition was one of the newest additions to the fair and it proved to be one of the most popular. not only did the majority of the town come out to observe, but the fair also drew in an impressive number of visitors from elsewhere - some of which attended the fair specifically to watch the show-jumping. 

  “LETS GO KOOKIE!” screamed hoseok at the top of his lungs, holding up a customized poster board with a printed picture of jungkook and leo, depicting the words ‘go jungkook!’

  yoongi groaned, “can you sit down? they haven’t even finished setting up for the jump-off yet.”

  at this point in the competition, it was down to jungkook and another competitor, a man a few years younger named yesung. up until now, they both achieved the same score after the round performance and both cleared nearly perfect showings. the jump-off was a shortened course with tighter turns and higher jumps, intended to break the tie and determine the winner.

  the crowd began cheering when jungkook and yesung reappeared, standing and waiting for instructions. you found jungkook adorable in his outfit, a dark green show jacket and breeches that emphasized his leg muscles. you had to catch yourself from staring too hard at his thighs because it seemed like yoongi caught you, waving a hand in front of your face with a snicker. you only glared at him.

  it was mayor kim with the microphone, explaining the rules to the crowd. “and, to decide the order for performance, we have conducted a random draw. as a result, we will see. . .choi yesung go first!” he proclaimed, eliciting another round of cheers from the crowd.

  from where you stood, you noticed jungkook naturally relax his shoulders. for that, you also breathed out a sigh of relief. he stepped away to where leo was, making way for yesung to complete his round.

  when it was time to begin, everyone rose to their feet. from what you saw and heard of yesung, he was also a well-seasoned equestrian. he wasn’t as decorated as jungkook, but he had the advantage of winning the last show-jumping competition in the spring. you didn’t realize jungkook was out for vengeance, but he was indeed looking to reclaim his name.

  every fraction of a second mattered in the jump-off round and so, your eyes were glued. the pressure was on and you watched yesung charge ahead. he decided to take some risky turns, likely to shave off time. the first one was executed perfectly and you nearly jumped at the second, challenging turn. it was not calculated well, as it resulted in a rail down at the penultimate fence.

  “oh shit!” one of the boys yelped, watching the unfortunate accident. 

  yeung finished the course at a respectable, but flawed time. it was shame, since his speed and ability could have easily secured a victory. he knew it, too, judging by the disappointment in his eyes. you almost felt bad for him, if it wasn’t jungkook off to the side and gearing up for his turn.

  now, it was jiwon screaming as loud as she could. “YOU CAN DO IT!” she screeched, cheering for her brother and you joined in. 

  already mounted on leo, jungkook looked up, right at your section. he gave a small wave and you all went wild - even mrs. oh, who brought her own sign to cheer him on. you guys weren’t the only ones, though, as it seemed that jungkook was a favourite amongst fans.

  “jeon jungkook, jeon jungkook, jeon jungkook,” chanted the boys and you weren’t sure who started it, but you also began chanting, too.

  he readied himself and at the sound of the horn, blasted off. the tensions were thicker, with the stakes at hand and the pressure on a seasoned competitor looking to re-establish himself. you couldn’t imagine the weight of the crowd under the beating of the july sun, considering the heat made you already down your water bottle by the first hour of the competition and were in half the clothing jungkook was in. between you and jiwon was a shared usb handheld fan, as the two of you silently took turns holding it - eyes too glued to the show and shouting jungkook’s name.

  he was fast and sharp, yet every movement of his was so well thought out. at full force was a risky approach, but was so far bearing perfect results. you felt your heartbeat getting louder and louder, making your head pound with adrenaline. the last few seconds, the world became quiet and all you could focus on was jungkook. then, the eruption snapped you back into reality.

  “LET’S GOOO!”

  if someone was somehow not on their feet watching the final round of the show, they certainly were now, as jungkook zoomed to the end with no flaws and an incredible time. even you had to blink a few times, trying to see the time recorded clearly and realize your eyes were not deceiving you.

  “there’s no way that’s not a record!” you heard jimin exclaim and you didn’t doubt him.

  there was a hushed murmur over the crowd, as mayor kim stepped to the podium once more. tapping the microphone a few times, you and the rest of the crowd winced at the feedback that came with it. then, mayor kim spoke.

  “ladies and gentlemen. . .” he begun, loud and clear.

  jungkook was still catching his breath to the side, having yet to even take off his helmet. all eyes were peeled on mayor kim, as he took an extra pause for dramatics. if you weren’t also about to jump right out from your skin, you’d roll your eyes.

  “. . we have a winner AND a record setting time. jeon jungkook, young man, please join me on this stage.”

  no longer holding your breath, you roared along with your friends and the earth practically rumbled. jungkook’s smile was as bright as the day, as he whooped in response and raised his fist in the air. you were filled with nothing but joy. 

  before he stepped up onto the stage, jungkook displayed his integrity by walking towards yesung and enthusiastically shake the other man’s hand. yesung didn’t look too upset, more bewildered at the quality of performance that his opponent put on. they exchanged words, smiles reaching their eyes.

  “that’s my brother!” screamed jiwon, as if no one knew the obvious.

  jungkook then took mayor kim’s hand in one and attempted to balance his new, golden trophy with the other arm. in a split second, your friends, jiwon, and the oh family began filing out of the stands and you could hear hoseok yelling for you to follow. you widened your eyes, shuffling out of your seat as quickly as possible.

  of course, jiwon was the fastest and made it to the lawn first. she squealed, as jungkook embraced her in a hug and spun her around. the cheers didn’t falter and only grew when namjoon and taehyung momentarily put jungkook on their shoulders.

  you trailed behind everyone, nearly stumbling on your way down. you couldn’t see much, tiptoeing as far as you could. the chatter was still loud, but then the small crowd parted as you heard jungkook call out. it was your name. he was calling for you to come to the front.

  “oooooh,” someone said, but you ignored it.

  there was no doubt in your mind that your cheeks were a cherry red, but you refused to look anyone in the eye - even jungkook. you and your friends gathered around the podium with jungkook, as the event photographer asked you to move closer for a picture. everyone made way for you, as jungkook gestured for you to be the one on his right side, while jiwon and mrs. oh were on his left. 

  “congratulations,” you finally said, straining for your voice to be heard over the cheers. you still did not meet his eyes, finding yourself in a kind of shyness that was unknown to your normally headstrong personality.

  that was something that came natural to jungkook, having an innate ability to bring out parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. before moving back to amber valley, you walked around with your chin up, thinking that you knew everything you needed to know. 

  now, at 25 years old, you knew harvesting soybeans and playing cards at the local pub with your new friends. you knew the smell of the ocean in the sweltering summer and you knew riding horses in sunflower fields at sundown. looking at jungkook, you knew what it was like to be slowly, but surely, swept off your feet. the realization creeped up on you, a sneaky little thing.

  namjoon was the one holding onto leo, as your group huddled together for the picture. you instinctively hugged into jungkook’s touch, holding them in front of the camera.

  jungkook spoke, right into your ear. “i’m so glad i was able to have this moment with you.”

  that made you finally look up at his eyes and in that moment, a flash went off. this is when you also snapped out of your daze and despite his stare unwavering, you turned back to the photographer.

  “oh, maybe we should take another -” you started, knowing that neither you or jungkook were looking in the camera, but he waved you off.

  “no, no! this picture came out perfect,” the photographer winked at you and asked for everyone to disperse, before you could argue. something told you that you were going to see a picture of you and jungkook gazing into each other’s eyes on the front cover of the local newspaper.

  he proceeded to take a few more solo pictures of jungkook with leo, followed by some shots with the mayor. jungkook was supposed to be kept busy, but he continued sneaking glances your way.

  it was mrs. oh who gently tapped your shoulder. “now’s the time, honey. come to the store quick before he notices.”

  beside her, sangwoo rolled his eyes. “he’s going to notice, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of her.”

  regardless, you scrambled to follow behind mrs. oh. you weaved through the crowd, who all wanted to take a look at their champion in disbelief of the amazing time jungkook scored. the show began relatively early in the day, too, so the streets were only now becoming more and more full with the midsummer festival in full swing.

  the roads were blocked off for pedestrian access only, as the fair was one of the busiest times of the year for amber valley. today was a day that drew crowds from outside of town, as the festival was an adored regional celebration and served as a tourist destination. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were told that the midsummer festival attracted the highest visitors of any other day in the year for the town.

  carnival games, market booths and amusement rides were already set up since the morning and it was already getting tiresome to navigate through the festival goers. but, of course, you were trailing behind the force that was mrs. oh, who made way with ease with her commanding voice. 

  “time to get to work,” she sighed, pulling out a key from her pocket upon reaching the general store.

  you said, “it’s a shame you can’t enjoy the festivities, mrs. oh.”

  “oh, i don’t mind. i’ve lived in this town all my life, i’ve been here, there and everywhere when it comes to the fair,” she mused, unlocking the front door for the two of you. “business is business, the traffic the store will get is more important.”

  a cool blanket enveloped your skin once you stepped in and you were never more grateful for the invention of air conditioning in your life. she was right, though, as you noticed some people nearby the store and already eyeing it.

  “most businesses are closed today, but not us!” mrs. oh smiled, as she turned the sign by the window from ‘closed’ to ‘open.’

  this is how you knew how much jungkook truly meant to mrs. oh. “jungkook is real lucky for you to open late just to watch him,” you said, examining the front counter and spotting a pair of jungkook’s work gloves.

  “the store opens late every time he has a competition. sangwoo adores him and that young man and jiwon are family to us,” mrs. oh mused, seemingly lost in thought, before blinking back into the moment. “ah, don’t mind me. i almost forgot why you’re here, sweetie - the flowers are in the back room!”

  you thanked mrs. oh, following the direction that she pointed towards. jimin called you corny for getting jungkook flowers for your first official date, but you thought it was fitting, given the competition. it was even better with the results of the show and you could only hope that jungkook liked the ones you picked out. you figured that men deserve to get a nice bouquet of flowers at least once, too. 

  the bundle of fresh sunflowers were actually your favourites, but that wasn’t important. you grabbed them from the backroom fridge, wrapped in cellophane and yellow paper. this was when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and your eyes widened, hoping it wasn’t jungkook just yet.

  unfortunately, your hopes disappeared, but the text still put a smile on your face - just because it was him at the end of the day.

  are you at the store? i saw you and mrs. oh lol i can be there in a few minutes. 

  you replied yes and came out to wait. the store already had its first customers within a few minutes of opening and mrs. oh was ringing them out. she met your eyes and winked, mouthing some encouraging words to you. 

  with the same smile on your lips, you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her. 

  although you would have loved to loiter inside the store for the air conditioning, you were already bashful enough from everyone watching you and jungkook at the show and you would have rather met jungkook away from mrs. oh’s nosiness. she was lovely, but she appeared to be one of your and jungkook’s biggest fans and you didn’t want to act awkward, knowing that you were being watched.

  the bouquet was hidden behind your back, as you patiently waited outdoors. you didn’t know what to expect out of your day, but the longer you waited for jungkook, you grew more and more nervous. it was odd, knowing that the anxiety pooling at the bottom of your stomach was because of your childhood best friend. 

  the thoughts were promptly swept away when you caught sight of jungkook approaching you. he changed clothes from his riding gear, sans his favourite dirty boots that remained on his feet, and was now wearing a plain white t-shirt and denim jeans. you always had to take a moment to admire the definition of his muscles and his sharp gaze that left you breathless, but you were distracted this time by the bundle of golden flowers in his grasp.

  jungkook looked a little bit concerned at your expression, as you were stifling a laugh. you almost felt bad, but the sight was too funny for you to ignore.

  “hey - uh, what?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

  you revealed the identical bouquet from behind your laugh and he, too, looked dumbfounded. the wrapping and greenery differed from one another, but it was clear that the two of you picked your flowers from the same field by your houses. it was the same field the two of you rode on the past summer and played in as kids.

  “congratulations again for first place,” was all you could manage to say, offering your flowers towards him.

  jungkook finally broke out into a chuckle, shaking his head. “thank you. congratulations, for uh. . “

  “for what? being jeon jungkook’s date to the fair?” you chided, as you took his flowers in your hands.

  “shut up. am i not original or something?” jungkook asked. “like, come on, we got each other the same thing. i’m already failing at this date thing, aren’t i?” he joked.

  you rolled your eyes and flicked his arms. “it’s been, like, five seconds.”

  “ow!”

  “we’re not just on a date today, jungkook. we’re on a mission to win some prizes,” you declared. 

  jungkook tilted his head slightly with a smile growing. “oh, are we?” he paused. “then, am i allowed to hold your hand during this mission?”

  the idea startled you, but you didn’t shy away. nodding without a word, this was the signal for jungkook to pick up your free hand and interlock his fingers with yours. somehow, it wasn’t a moment that sent ringing sensations in your ears nor was it one in slow motion. it was familiar, almost, and felt. . . right. it felt natural, like it was coming home after a long day.

  you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “and thank you for the flowers. you remembered my favourite.” you weren’t even sure how he knew, but you knew that jungkook would only give you a gift with a well-thought out meaning behind them. 

  this time, it was jungkook’s cheeks who reddened slightly. he didn’t say anything else, only squeezing your hand and leading the way.

  ***

  jungkook was tired. you were tired of telling him to suck it up. you had gone two summers in a row without winning a single prize and you were determined to walk away from the fair with at least one thing. albeit, at this point, you ran out of tickets to play games and you knew jungkook had extra, since he received some from his parents, but your grandfather also gave him some. he was your last hope, as you begged him to use the last of his tickets to get you something.

  “hoseok hyung told me these games are rigged. can’t we just go do bumper cars, bunny?” jungkook groaned, as the two of you walked away empty handed from balloon darts.

  you pouted. “no. i just want one of those big charmander stuffies, i know you can win them!”

  “why don’t you play the games?”

  “because i’m bad at them, how do you think i lost all of my tickets so quickly?” you responded, crossing your arms over your chest.

  jungkook grumbled more complaints under his breath, while you forcibly dragged him towards the ring toss booth.

  “hey kids! giving the ‘ol ring toss a try?” beamed the booth attendant, who was the same every year.

  you weren’t entirely sure what his name was, but you and jungkook collectively agreed on calling him “carnival man” and he recognized the two of you each time the festival was in town. though you were about four feet of fury at the time, you had quiet rage against carnival man. you were convinced he cheated you out of getting the xl sized penguin prize last year and you wanted revenge. 

  “kookie will do it!” you exclaimed, smugly pushing your best friend forward.

  “yeah, whatever, kookie will do it,” jungkook rolled his eyes and handed over a single ticket to carnival man.

  carnival man happily took the ticket from jungkook. “it’s nice to see you kids again. you’re always together, huh?”

  “unfortunately,” the two of you said in unison, only for you two to shoot each other identical daggers.

  at this, carnival man guffawed in amusement and gave jungkook his sets of rings. 

  here, jungkook did not win. in fact, he didn’t win you a single thing that summer and you didn’t speak to him for the following day because of it. only a day, though, since carnival man was right - the two of you were always together. you eventually gave in after the first day of silent treatment and showed up to jungkook’s house with your horse, marshmallow, and convinced him to join you by the sunflower fields. he had scoffed, called you stupid, and then without missing a beat, came outside to accompany you.

  ***

  “kookie! and. . .bunny? is that you?”

  carnival man was a lot older than you remembered, but you weren’t sure if it was just the tricks of time playing a game on you. it seemed like everything was so much more youthful and bright in your childhood memories. however, the brightness in carnival man’s smile didn’t falter and it only widened upon laying eyes on you and jungkook. then, his eyes trailed over to your clasped hands together and it widened even more.

  “you remember me?” you gaped, as carnival man took your hand and shook it vigorously. 

  “of course i do! well, i remember the two of you, specifically,” he exclaimed. “i see jungkook here, but i’ll always remember how you two kids came around together every summer! you’re all grown up now!”

  although lines of age creased his smile and streaks of grey contrasted against his black hair, seeing carnival man again made you feel like you were ten years old all over again. the fair seemed so much more larger than life and this moment was one of those moments that reminded you of why you loved summer so much.

  jungkook smiled, “it’s nice to see you, mr. lee.” he appeared to be a bit shy, as the older man was fixated on the sight of you two holding hands.

  it occurred to you that carnival man was never his real name and meeting him as mr. lee felt like a call to the reality in which you were now a grown up. you realized that jungkook continued to see mr. lee at the fair over the years without you and didn’t feel the same rush of nostalgia.

  the only reason why jungkook couldn’t also shake mr. lee’s hand was the abundance of prizes nestled into his arms. the two of you left your sunflower bouquets at the general store - luckily, it was now busy with tourists wanting water bottles or sunscreen and the two of you avoided any gushing or questioning from mrs. oh - and thank god you did because you did not expect to be carrying around so many things. a mini teddy bear, a sheet of temporary tattoos, a t-shirt, some gift cards, and a larger kuromi plush toy that was double the size of your head.

  thankfully, jungkook held onto everything without complaint and remarked that you had no business carrying anything so long as he was there. the funny part was that you two had barely visited all of the games and the only reason why you’d won so many prizes was because you two were competing at each one.

  “and you know i refuse to lose,” jungkook said at the first game, which was a basketball shootout. 

  with the same competitive spirit, the two of you both did very well at each game and walked away with a prize from almost every one. it also probably helped that you were now adults with disposable income and could pay to participate in as many games as you wanted. jungkook had announced that he was ready to make up for his past failrures, never forgetting the summer that resulted in your silent treatment because of his inability to win you a prize. you didn't think that meant struggling to carry around your prizes within the first hour.

  now, mr. lee began setting up the ring toss for the two of you. “so, you moved back to amber valley, young lady?”

  “yes, sir. i’m running the family farm now,” you replied.

  “congratulations, bunny. that’s some hard, honest work, my best wishes to you!” mr. lee said. “you know, i always thought you two had quite a special bond, even at a young age.”

  jungkook avoided eye contact. “mr. lee, you’re kind,” he chuckled, nervously. 

  “i mean it! it fills my heart with joy to see you two here after all these years.” there was twinkle in mr. lee’s eyes as he spoke. “for some people, their universes are stitched together with unseen threads that will always lead them back to where they belong.”

  it was your turn to squeeze jungkook’s hand and neither of you said anything more, only exchanging a look.

  ***

  jungkook wouldn’t stop pouting and you weren’t sure what to do about it. it really wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help the fact that, like most young girls, you got your growth spurt earlier than your male friend. you were a few inches taller than jungkook at this point and he was deflated to learn that you were tall enough for the rollercoaster, while he had yet to measure up.

  “sorry kid. maybe next year,” the ride attendant gave jungkook a small smile.

  you were disappointed, as well, as you and jungkook had waited nearly thirty minutes in line. all for jungkook to not be able to ride the coaster. you turned to him, who sighed.

  he said, “it’s okay, bunny. you can go on without me.”

  a part of you did want to get on the ride, especially after waiting for quite some time, but you didn’t hesitate to shake your head. 

  “no. i won’t go on without you,” you stressed, to which jungkook looked at you in shock. 

  he shook his head. “no, it’s okay. just go, we waited for so long.”

  “i said i’m not going,” you said, standing your ground.

  instead, you walked off from the front of the line, ignoring jungkook calling your name until he ran up to catch up to you. 

  “hey! what are you doing?”

  “i said i’d go with you. if you’re not there, there’s no point,” you shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “we’ll go next time. hey, wanna go see carnival man and do ring toss?”

  you didn’t wait for an answer, as you made a beeline for the ring toss booth. jungkook jogged up to you and you noticed that he was trying to hide the smile on his face.

  ***

  “jungkook. . .this is the kid’s roller coaster.”

  everyone else in the line was about half jungkook’s size, unless they were one of the parents giving the two of you a dirty look for getting on the kid’s coaster. there was no explicit rule that adults couldn’t ride the rollercoaster, but it was a very popular ride and jungkook had the privilege of cutting the line, as the two of you were given a free “fast lane” pass by mayor kim for being local small business owners.  the fast lane pass was costly and the majority of fairgoers opted to wait in the long lines.

  jungkook didn’t seem to care too much, though. “yeah, so what? you picked the giant swing and said the next ride was my choice.”

  “you’re pissing off the kids,” you whispered in a lower voice, as the attendant let out the last party from the rollercoaster. you guys were up next. “i thought you would want to do the drop tower or something.”

  “you promised me that we could go on the ride the last time we were here. remember, when i was too short?” he casually whistled. 

  “jungkook, that was, like, seventeen years ago.”

  he continued, “and i wrote it for our summer bucket list! you may have never seen it, but i was dying to go on this ride.”

  and that was how you found yourself crammed into a kid-sized rollercoaster at the very front with jungkook. with impeccable timing, it looked as though some of the boys were passing by. seokjin caught your eye first and tapped taehyung’s shoulder beside him, who then got namjoon’s attention.

  “oh my god,” you groaned, watching the three of them wave wildly at you and jungkook. 

  on the other hand, jungkook found this hilarious. he waved back and you covered your blushing face with your hands. you were already embarrassed from the cut eye given to you by the parents in line, now this.

  “have fun, lovebirds!” called namjoon, as seokjin and taehyung proceeded to take several pictures of you and jungkook from afar.

  ***

  “my tooth hurts!” you whined, shoving your cotton candy into jungkook’s hands.

  at seven years old, it was on the later side for you to lose your first tooth. you’d been wiggling it for weeks, but cried when jimin offered to rip it out of your mouth for you. this happened just a few moments ago, before jungkook yelled at him to go back to his mommy. 

  jungkook didn’t seem bothered and was actually pleased to double fist two sticks of cotton candy. “thanks bunny!” he ignored your complaints and happily continued snacking away.

  this was the first year that you and jungkook were permitted to roam around without adult supervision - kind of. as long as you were in vicinity of ten year old hoseok, who was sitting on a bench and playing on his gameboy advance, the two of you were free to play together.

  “this isn’t fair, i’m not allowed to eat anything,” you huffed. your grandfather warned you that any sort of sweet will just hurt and you were better off enjoying other parts of the festival.

  “don’t tell my parents, they said i could only have one cotton candy,” jungkook said, as he observed your sad appearance. “why do you look like that?”

  “like what?”

  “you look sad. it’s ugly on you,” jungkook mindlessly commented and you flicked his arm. “ow!”

  you glared at him. “don’t call me ugly!”

  “i said looking sad is ugly on you. so, don’t be sad,” jungkook replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  when your expression didn’t change, jungkook sighed and looked over to where hoseok was sitting. the older boy’s eyes were glued to his screen and was now joined by jimin, who was cheering him on in whatever game he was playing. then, jungkook turned back to you.

  “what?” you asked.

  “wanna go watch the magician show?” he asked, grinning. “so you can stop being sad.”

  your eyes widened, as you took your turn to look over your shoulder at hoseok. “your mom said to stay nearby! what if we get in trouble?”

  “i dare you to come with me to the magician show,” jungkook countered, knowing that was the secret word that made you do just about anything. you hated the idea of losing dares to jungkook and had yet to do so.

  you knew you were going to get an earful if you left hoseok’s sight, who was supposed to be watching over you. then, you remembered that, earlier that day, hoseok refused to let you play a level of mega man on his gameboy and decided you didn’t care if you got him in trouble.

  “okay! let’s go!” your features suddenly brightened and you let jungkook take you by the wrist - not the hand because, ew, it was jungkook - towards the other end of the fairgrounds. 

  the cotton candy had already been consumed and jungkook tossed the paper sticks into the nearest trash can, as the two of you quietly giggled about your mischievous sneak-away. 

  ***

  unlike jungkook, jiwon had no trouble tracking down her sibling at any given moment, even with the large crowds gathered for the festival. she also didn’t seem to care that her brother was in the middle of a date, as you were the one to first notice that she was dragging sangwoo by the wrist in your direction. 

  “is something wrong, jiwon?” jungkook asked and there was a tinge of annoyance in his voice at the appearance of the younger girl. the two of you were engaged in somewhat of a flirtatious conversation and jiwon’s premise immediately killed jungook’s mood.

  “hi y/n!” she greeted and then she turned to jungkook wearing a sickly sweet smile. “oppa, may i have ten bucks?”

  “i gave you twenty bucks this morning,” he raised an eyebrow at her. 

  meanwhile, sangwoo was in awe of the amount of prizes in jungkook’s arms. “woah! you guys won all of those?” at this point, there was an addition of a frisbee and a stuffed octopus. 

  “i won most of them,” both you and jungkook said at the same time, resulting in a shared glare. 

  jiwon cleared her throat. “so. can i have ten bucks, please? we wanna get cotton candy!”

  “what did you do with the first twenty bucks?”

  “we went on the teacup ride! oh, and we got rice cakes and funnel cake and actual cake,” jiwon explained and went a little too fast, so you didn’t doubt that the kids did, in fact, consume all that sugar.

  it seemed like jungkook also didn’t doubt it and while you knew he wanted to scold her, you were taken aback to find him letting go of your hand to reach for his wallet in his back pocket. he sighed and, as he was still carrying all of your prizes, merely held it out for jiwon to fish a twenty out of. 

  “only because today is the festival,” he warned and muttered a second part under his breath, “and only so you can leave us alone.”

  you also had the same feeling that jiwon and sangwoo were not going anywhere without their ultimate goal, especially since the former seemed to have the same persistence that her brother had.

  “thank you, i love you!” jiwon declared, handing the wallet back to her brother and planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “thank you, thank you! we’ll leave you alone now!”

  the pair scurried off together, as sangwoo also yelled out his thanks. they ran through the crowd together, giggling amongst themselves. when jungkook took your hand again, you were still lost in thought, watching the two purchase cotton candy from far away. sangwoo handed the first stick to jiwon and the two talked with one another, cheerily enjoying their treat.

  “don’t get me wrong, making sure jiwon is eating healthy is important to me, but today’s the fair. it’s special for her and sangwoo like it was for us, might as well let her off the hook for today.” he noticed you watching them and followed your stare. “they’re cute, aren’t they?”

  “they are. how long have they been that close?”

  “since they were born, basically. they’re always with each other,” jungkook shook his head.

  “do you think jiwon has a little crush?” you wondered aloud, as jiwon shoved sangwoo playfully for whatever joke he might have had made. 

  jungkook asked, “did you?”

  he was referring to the two of you as kids, as it was clear that your shared wistful stares at jiwon and sangwoo were a product of looking back at your own childhoods. two best friends that stood by each other’s sides at all times and grew up together. you had to admit, you saw your and jungkook’s reflections when you looked at jiwon and sangwoo. 

  upon hearing the question, you rolled your eyes. “you wish, jeon jungkook.”

  but, you weren’t entirely sure. adults joked that you and jungkook would grow up to marry each other, just from watching you two play chess or ride horses together. there was a magnetic force that naturally stuck the two of you together, from day one. you cared deeply for jungkook before you could have a comprehensive understanding of what it was like to have love for someone beyond your family.

  “pretty sure i had a crush on you. that’s probably why i was devastated when you stopped coming to the valley,” he casually mentioned, but you turned to him in surprise.

  “were you really?”

  “yeah. you were my closest friend.”

  “i’m sorry,” you said. “you were mine, too. i just thought you would forget about me, i guess. then, i don’t know - “

  jungkook cut in, “- we grew up. that’s what happened, it’s okay.”

  that was the reality of life. it was sad to look back on, but it was overshadowed by the incredible forces that brought you and jungkook back together. never, in a million years, would you have ever imagined standing in the middle of the amber valley midsummer festival with jeon jungkook ever again. 

  “ever since i came back, you became my closest friend again. even with all the weird stuff going on between us,” you admitted the last part with the roll of your eyes.

  although you were just teasing, jungkook’s expression turned serious. “hey, i am sorry about that. but, honestly. . . “ he sighed. “like you said, we became close friends again. and so fast, too.”

  “it got confusing, didn’t it?” you asked, looking at your feet. “when things seemed like it could be more, i kept trying to convince myself that, you know, this is just how we are. we’re friends, this is how we act and nothing more.”

  “you read my mind. you really did,” jungkook said, looking at you with a surprised expression. “i think i always knew, though. from the moment i saw you again.”

  you thought back to the first time you met jungkook again. you remembered how soft his hands were and how he managed to make you smile on one of the worst days of your life. that was just jungkook, though, and his way of bringing sunlight into your life, even when it was raining. 

  “i. . .i think i knew, too. but, i thought you just saw me as the little girl who used to play with you in your backyard.”

  he shook his head. “i thought you had so much on your plate. and, well, i’ll admit, i’ve had trouble even considering a love life since becoming jiwon’s guardian. she’s always come first in my life before anything else.”

  “i don’t blame you, i can’t imagine what the past few years have been like for you,” you said. “but, you were a tad bit stupid. let’s be real.”

  jungkook snorted. “yeah, i know i was stupid. believe me, the last thing i wanted to do was fully push you away. my childhood best friend came back into my life and i had to confront that she was now a strong, beautiful and incredibly intelligent woman that i had feelings for.”

  this was the first time that things were finally being said aloud and it was as if a thousand pounds was being lifted off of your shoulders. you were light, you were flying. 

  “but,” he continued. “i also had to confront that you were still my closest friend, the person who i can turn to when things go wrong. you were my friend who i laughed with and shared things with and i couldn’t lose that. i have the guys, but no one compares to how in sync we are.”

  “i know what you mean. we complement each other in this crazy way. . .” you trailed off. 

  mr. lee spoke about destinies stitched together and things meant to be. holding jungkook’s hand felt meant to be in a way that it was just natural. so did laughing with him and making him dinner and letting him do things for you, simply because he didn’t want you to do it by yourself.

  jungkook said, “do you see why i was afraid of this?” he gestured to the two of you holding hands. “if i fuck this up with you, i’ll lose both my girlfriend and my best friend. if i fuck this up with you, i’ll have let you down during a time where you just moved to a whole new town for a job with all these expectations that everyone has for you.”

  “you don’t have to be afraid of those things,” you murmured, gently placing your free hand on his arm.

  “i’m not. not anymore, when the what ifs and the idea of missing out on something good with you is even scarier.”

  suddenly, you took a look around your surroundings. it obviously wasn’t planned, but the two of you were having quite the intimate conversation just across from the face painting booth and the craft stalls. you tugged jungkook into a random corner, where there was a lone chair in between walls.

  “can you put the prizes down for a second?” you asked.

  jungkook was confused. “huh?”

  “can you put the prizes down so i can kiss you?” you commanded, giving him a pointed look. 

  then, he chuckled and without hesitation, placed your various trinkets down on the chair. you rolled your eyes with a smile and jungkook hooked a thumb on one of the belt loops of your jean shorts, using it to pull you closer. he leaned in, placing his other hand at the small of your back.

  jungkook, too, smiled into the kiss and like everything else, it felt natural. it felt like home. you melted into his arms as you always do, softly kissing back. 

  although you could have stood there forever with him, lost in his touch, you had to pull away. “you scared of that?” you raised an eyebrow.

  “shut up man,” jungkook said, but stole a quick peck from you before he let you go from his embrace.

  you thought you would never stand in the middle of the amber valley midsummer festival with jeon jungkook ever again. the world worked in mysterious ways and you were proven wrong. more so, you weren’t just standing with jungkook. you were a woman standing in the middle of the town that built your hopes and dreams. you were standing in middle of the fair that never shook off its magic, even years later. you were standing with the man who made you realize that home wasn’t just a place.

  ***

  it was safe to say that you freaked out when jungkook showed you what he stole from his dad’s tool box. you were so scared that jungkook had to beg you to not snitch on him and even threatened that he would tell your grandfather that you’d been making him help you complete your chores in the chicken coop. 

  “it’s just a pocket knife, bunny.”

  “it’s sharp! you could hurt yourself!” you hissed, stepping a few feet away from him like he had mad cow disease.

  jungkook sighed and ignored you, walking over to where your sitting spot was. this year, the midsummer festival fell on what was easily the hottest day of the summer. the heat wave was unlike any other you’d experienced so far and you were surprised that the fair was still going on. the two of you had completed just under ten minutes at the bouncy castle before you insisted you needed a break.

  the two of you had found a random tree to sit under, as you split an ice cream float to beat the heat. this is when jungkook said he had “something cool” to show you.

  you had no choice but to leave your grumbles under your breath, finding your place beside jungkook since the ice cream float was in his hand. “you’re hogging it all,” you complained and he handed it over to you.

  “are you done freaking out?” he asked.

  “what are you even gonna do with that?”

  it was as if jungkook was waiting for you to ask the question. “this.” he clicked it open and turned behind him, to the lower part of the tree of which you were leaning on. 

  your eyes were wide, as jungkook began scratching away at the wood. the first letter you could make out was “J” and you nervously looked around your surroundings. it didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention to the two of you, occupied with the festivities or trying to not pass out from the sun. 

  jungkook completed a “K” and moved on to slowly carving out your initials. “so we remember today!”

  “it’s gonna be there forever,” you sputtered. “my grandpa says that trees last forever if no one cuts them down. . .so, since our names are there, we’ll be best friends forever!”

  a toothy grin stretched across jungkook’s face. “yeah! we are. we’re going to be best friends forever.”

  ***

  considering jungkook’s victory earlier in the day, several people stopped to congratulate him throughout the afternoon. he was hard to miss and he was also just a generally well-known person around town.

  that was precisely why you were scared shitless that someone was going to recognize either of you committing vandalism. 

  “you’re covering me, right?”

  “i am, but can you hurry up?” you demanded through gritted teeth, trying to look over your shoulder to see if anyone was looking your way without looking suspicious.

  from the unassuming eye, it looked like you and jungkook were merely engaged in conversation. . .but facing the tree. you were sat cross-legged, turned to the tree as if it was another person talking amongst yourselves. instead, you were trying to cover jungkook carving into the wood.

  you shook your head. “i can’t believe our names are still on this.”

  “we did say it would be forever,” jungkook reminded you and if he wasn’t holding a pocket knife in his hands, you would’ve shoved him over.

  you always remembered that your and jungkook’s names lived on the bark of a random tree in town. there was no way you could forget the scolding the two of you received for defacing town property. 

  “what if they notice? we’re adults now, we could get charged for this,” you said.

  “then we say it was always like this,” jungkook concluded and caught your eye. “what? what are they gonna do, tell my mom and your grandpa?” 

  at that, you did let out a laugh. “i can’t imagine what they’re thinking, watching us from up there.”

  then, jungkook clicked his pocket knife close and scooted over on the grass, as he’d been blocking his work from your view the entire time. he made the initials deeper into the wood, ensuring that it wasn’t going anywhere, and added a heart around the letters. once depicting you and jungkook as friends “4ever,” it was now framed by the heart and shifted its meaning altogether. 

  “they likely made a bet about us getting together and the winner is probably rejoicing,” you suspected and jungkook nodded in agreement, snickering under his breath. 

  your hands grazed over the carved design and you thought back to the moment where the two of you first sat under the same tree. 

  jungkook said, “pretty good first date, huh? scammed some booths out of their prizes, pissed off the entirety of amber valley elementary and we vandalized town property.” he looked pleased with himself leaning against the tree and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

  with your legs stretched out and the crime completed, you were able to relax underneath the protection of the leafy branches. “mhm, definitely a first date that i’ll never forget,” you laughed, placing your head on jungkook’s chest. 

  the two of you bought an ice cream float for old times sake and jungkook brought it closer to you, so that you wouldn’t have to move. it seemed to be a constant - jungkook doing things for you just because. just because he didn’t want you to do it yourself. just because he wanted to do something for you.

  “i have arms, you know,” you joked, but took a sip regardless. 

  he responded, unfazed, “i know.” 

  the smile the two of you shared confirmed your thoughts. whether you were kids and jungkook walked you home every time just because or you were adults and jungkook wanted to spend his whole day fixing your windows just because. that was just how he was always going to be for you.

  “well, do you know that a first date implies that there’s going to be a second date?” you decided to be bold for once, as all your anxieties evaporated when you accepted that jungkook was both your best friend and a person you held feelings for - a coexistence that you realized was possible and even exciting.

  jungkook scoffed. “second date? did you not see the tree, you’re stuck with me forever.” his joke resulted in you playfully hitting his chest. 

  “did you just curse me with some witchcraft on this tree or something?”

  “rock hard, huh?” he asked, ignoring your accusation and was referring to you hitting his chest. “trust me, i know.” jungkook flexed his arm muscles and although he was kidding around, it was quite impressive and distracting.

  “i’m totally objectifying you right now, by the way. i can admit that now, right?” you smirked. “‘cause i’ve been checking you out for months.”

  at that, jungkook genuinely appeared to be a bit sheepish, his ears first turning pink like they always do. “drink your float, man,” he insisted, using it as a tool to shut you up. you nearly choked from holding in your laugh as you took another sip, which made him laugh, too.

  you sat up slightly, but still mostly laying your body weight on your jungkook, only to crane your neck to see the letters carved onto the tree. the carving waited for you two for years to return. a part of you couldn’t believe that it was jungkook you were stealing kisses and blushing from. 

  “but, for real,” jungkook spoke, now also looking at his handy work. “a second date is nothing when the tree says you’re stuck with me. that means you’re my girl.”

  he held your chin with his free hand so that you could look into his eyes as he declared the last part. jungkook’s gaze was warm and you now understood what it was like to feel butterflies in your stomach. it was always one of those things that you read about in books and couldn’t comprehend. you understood the moon and stars and you understood economics and science. this moment with jungkook was a pair of fresh eyes that opened your heart to a feeling of completeness that felt like it had always been there. 

  “wow, you’re not even going to ask me? this is the worst confession ever,” you managed to tease, your smile failing to fight the happiness spreading throughout your body. 

  jungkook retorted, “i saw it in your eyes, you were about to ask me first. i had to beat you to the punch, you know i hate letting you win things.”

  “i think i won either way here,” you beamed, placing your head back onto jungkook’s chest. you could feel his heart beating loudly, but he didn’t seem to mind and planted a kiss on your forehead. jungkook wanted you to know how much this moment meant to him, too. 

  your first summer back in amber valley was nothing you expected. your grandfather’s last wishes for you were for you to discover nature and what it meant to make real connections with people. it was a head first journey that you embarked on, all by yourself. yet, months later, you found yourself surrounded by a family you found yourself and the beauty of a town that you thought was forever going to only live in your memories and dreams. you found belonging. 

  jungkook taught you that home wasn’t a place. home was the sunday market with friends. home was doing things you would have never imagined yourself doing, like salsa dancing and paddle boarding. home lived in watching your hard work bloom into something greater than yourself, with each harvest and each morning you spent feeding your animals. home was even a person - a horse-riding man who was unselfish at his core and loved breakfast for dinner. 

  you dreaded the end of the night, as it seemed like the midsummer festival was a blissful magic that you never wanted to end. you could have lived in this moment forever. 

  “goodnight, bunny. i’ll see you tomorrow,” jungkook said, as the two of you stood at the doorstep of the farmhouse. he leaned down and met you in a soft kiss, where he murmured a thank you against your lips for the perfect day you shared.

  there, you realized that the magic didn’t have to end. there was always a tomorrow to look forward to when everyday was a new day to fall more and more in love with your best friend. the magic in the air didn’t even have to end when the last of the summer heat turned into the first chill of autumn, amidst the shifting hues of the leaves. the magic kept you warm throughout the winter and blossomed in the springtime. 

  for the first time in your life, you no longer had to walk away from jungkook come the rain of september. when you were younger, it seemed like the magic of amber valley only existed in the warmer months. summer was a special place in your heart and the memories of your youth, but home was something that stood by you through the changing seasons.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @shellyyy177 @myseokjinji @teddybeartaetae @jalexad @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822 @seokout @taiwan0618 @firelcrds @xwniazx

[metaphoricgibberish]

Nights Like This One: XXIV.

"For the first time since she made it to Jackson, Joel looked like Joel, older now, more wrinkles around his eyes, that deep set between his brows, gray threaded through his curls. But he looked like Joel, her Joel. And she would have cried, if she had any tears left, if she wasn't still terrified that this— that he— could disappear before her in the blink of an eye."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 4.3k a.n. what a wild ride. i can't believe this fic is almost over. i first drafted the outline on christmas eve in 2023. i had covid and i was miserable, sitting with a mask on in my parent's living room. a couple weeks prior, the laundry room at my own house had flooded, and i remembered wishing, in my sick stupor, that joel miller could come fix my fucking drain for me. so, sitting on my mother's couch (not so unlike lily sitting on her mother's ratty armchair) i dreamt up a fic where joel miller was hired to renovate a woman's home. i'd been reading pablo neruda earlier in the day (not unusual, he truly is a poetic genius) and these two lines from Tonight I Can Write kept rattling around in my head: "Through nights like this one I held her in my arms. I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. // Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms, my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her." and I thought about how beautiful it would be to incorporate those lines, to have them be the cornerstones to the two parts of this story. I've been living with these characters screaming in my head for almost an entire year. I love them and this story so dearly. I know fanfiction gets a terrible reputation, i know that people who don't read it (even some that do) don't truly understand what an art it can be. and sometimes i get sad, or angry with myself for focusing so much of my time (and my $120k creative writing degree) on writing things i can never publish. but i really do love doing this. it brings me so much joy and it makes me happier than i can express when it makes you all feel something too. my dream, since i was ten years old, was to write something that other people loved, that made them happy, made them sad, made them feel something. and i always thought that would be a book, hoped it would be, and maybe that's still in the cards someday, but for now, i'll take this. thank you so very much for reading. there are two chapters left after this (maybe three if i decided to break the next one in two). my sole focus after this will be the human condition, then i have two more fics in very early stages that i'm excited to get out (eventually). happy (actually happy this time) reading <3

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[milla-frenchy]

Recs | December 24

December readings ❤️

Please, rb the fics you appreciated, that's how they live ❤️🙏

Check the warnings before reading

Joel Miller

Nights like this one XX | XXI XXII | XXIII | XXIV | XXV | epilogue @metaphoricgibberish

Joel Miller finds the love of his life right before the world ends

Joel x Miller @punkseyes

On a night out, you and your boyfriend Joel, are tended to by a man who happens to have the same name as him. Even though your boyfriend tends to be the jealous type, he lets his curiosity get the best of him

Guilty please: a fic in fetlife messages @wintrwinchestr

Joel is a freak and is tired of keeping it to himself. he finally decides to make himself a fetlife profile and finds just the type of girl he's been looking for to match his freak: you

A doctor's care @pedge-page

Of rage and ruin part 7 | part 8 @corazondebeskar-reads

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though

Doin' time @magpiepills

You’re a client of the criminal justice system and you have a run in with CO Miller

Homemade @pedge-page

After you and Joel officially reconnect, you may be wondering...where are they now?

Joel's house @elliespuns

Difficult @schnarfer

How can you be part of a love story when you don’t believe in love?

Need to pay with something else @penascigarette

Strapped for cash after your car breaks down, you find yourself at the mercy of your dads best friend Joel Miller, a sleazy yet charismatic mechanic who offers an unconventional way to settle your debt

Good neighbors part 3 @joelstummy

Your affair with joel heats up with a week of uninterrupted bliss

Bad Santa @baronessvonglitter

Frantically seeking relief during the Christmas rush, the Santa at your local mall is the last person you'd expect to help.. and the only one who can

Jagged edge @ovaryacted

A good grade @itwasntimethatdidit40

You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade?

Please @itwasntimethatdidit40

BDSMaid chapt 7 @mountainsandmayhem

After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree

See you at three @almostfoxglove

When your sister starts working nights, you're stuck with afterschool pickup duty for your eight-year-old niece. You love the kid, so you don't mind. And, sure—maybe you don't mind having an excuse to check out her classmate's dad, Joel, five times a week, either

A hell of a morning @aurorawritestoescape

Joel has his favorite thing for breakfast. His stepdaughter

The wolf you feed part 5 @arcanefox207

Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter

Lonely hearts club @joelmillerisapunk

Joel meets Sarah's teacher, masturbates about it, and then buys a sex toy about it?

The air cools @toxicanonymity

A few loosely connected vignettes taking place throughout fall and winter, ending with a raider family Christmas

The last day @elflutter

It was the morning of his thirty-sixth birthday the last time he saw you. If he had known it was the last time, he would have spent hours drinking in the sight of you like fine wine. Never would have let you leave for work. Maybe that day would’ve wound up different. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost both his girls—maybe he wouldn’t have lost either

Joel and Tommy Miller

The gusset @toxicanonymity

Your boys @aurorawritestoescape

You’re about to spend the night with the Miller brothers

Bad blood drabble vacation @aurorawritestoescape

Puppy lessons @pedge-page (re read ✨)

No pure blood part 2 @weirdfangirly

Uncle Tommy brings you home 15 minutes too late

Din Djarin

For the first time @sawymredfox

The decision is made, it's time to do it. Hopefully, he'll survive the pain

Javier Pena

Kinktober (cockwarming) @absurdthirst

Lunch break @joelmillerisapunk

Javi edges you at work

Branded @sawymredfox

Javier acknowledges something in the middle of the jungle

Sweet dreams @javiscigarette (re read ✨)

You find Javi awake in the middle of the night and help him fall asleep

Office hours @itwasntimethatdidit40

You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours?

Pretty boy @joelmillerisapunk

The Christmas you made Javi your sub

Late night texts @jolapeno

It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number

Unscripted desires part 3 | part 4 @gothcsz

you’re a camerawoman that shoots pornos. javier peña is the pornstar you can’t stand. why is it that you’re always so affected by him?

Acacius

Prima nocta @fuckyeahdindjarin

Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father

Tim Rockford

Tiny Tim @604to647

Tim takes you to the precinct Christmas party

Just one more @sawymredfox

Tim has one more present for you tonight

Dave York

Law of attraction chapt 1 | chapt 2 | chapt 3 @baronessvonglitter (feat Javi p)

A chance meeting at a museum brings you companionship when you least expect it

Ezra

Little wren @schnarfer

Wild. West. Priest. Ezra. That’s it, that’s the idea

Multiple p boys

Let me get what I want @for-a-longlongtime (Javi p/Tim/ofc)

Fics recs

[tamakigf]

apple cider

XXIV. blobfish

pairing: megumi x gn!reader

warnings: none i think…

series masterlist

previous | next

notes:

ok but blobfish are kinda cute

yuji still flirting like always ofc

inumaki is public enemy #1

this is kind of a filler part LOL

taglist is closed!

🏷️ @kasumitenbaz @satoryaa @al3monkid @kooksmono @hisheadismountfuji @thepup356 @venderretta @arusio @xhxzgn @sarclife @astroswift @akii420 @geombyu @emii4evr @bbysatoruuu @wonugie @yeehawslap @rintarousgirl @nobody289x @m3gitsune @anna-sm1th @sad-darksoul @postmancat @7haze @chocochannie @kiss4kazu @stardusthyuck @sl33pyt1r3 @felixmainacc @becsmarvel @crazychaoticizzy @kilcount @yourmumsthings @pumpkindudeishere @kenmaslittlebrat @ketchupsush1 @anintrovertedechoe @fibrogirlie @bbladie @tar0sw0rld @nineooooo @lucifersidepiece @localgaytrainwreck @iluv-ace @moonlit-mizukage @nymphsdomain

italicized couldn’t be tagged :(

[bengals-barnesbabe]

#Track 9 Masterlist

Pairing: Joe Burrow x RnB Singer!Fem Reader

Summary: When the secret relationship between a famous singer and a popular quarterback is revealed no one could be happier. But when lyrics to an unreleased song are released, the strength of their relationship is questioned and tested when fans, reporters and exes start coming into the mix. Will you get your happy ending or is this the beginning of the end?

Main Masterlist 🤍

Character List🩷🧡🖤

Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, foul language.

Last Updated: 20 November 2024

*slow updates*

a/n: #track9 taglist is open! if you would like to be added to my taglist for this series comment 'tag me🧡' and you'll be added. If you want to be taken off at any point dm me -babe :)

* ~ flashback chapter 🩷 ~ social media post

🧡 ~ private dm

🤍 ~ group chat

🖤 ~ written chapter

Chapter I: Valentine’s Day Tease

Pt.1: 🩷 Pt.2: 🧡

Chapter II: Clothes Are So Obnoxious

Pt.1: 🩷 Pt.2: 🧡

Chapter III: Tell Me

Chapter IV: You Love Me

Chapter V: #Track 9

Pt.1: 🩷 Pt.2: 🧡 Pt.3: 🤍

Chapter VI: Crazy 4 Me

Pt.1: 🩷 Pt.2: 🤍

Chapter VII: Kisses 4 My Exes

Pt.1: 🩷 Pt.2: 🤍 Pt.3: 🤍 Pt.4: 🤍 Pt.5: 🩷

Chapter VIII: Real Shit

Chapter IX: #TMYLM

Pt.1: 🩷 Pt.2: 🤍 Pt.3: 🧡

Chapter X: Training Camp

Chapter XI: Press Week

Chapter XII: prayer for the broken

Chapter XIII: ‘i love you, goodnight’ tour

Part1 :🖤 Part2: 🩷

Chapter XIV: Domestic Tingz

Chapter XV: ‘The Reynolds Pamphlet’

Part1: 🩷 Part2: 🤍 Part3: 🧡 Part4:🤍 Part5: 🩷

Chapter XVI: Robbed*

Part1: 🖤 Part2: 🤍 Part3: 🖤

Chapter XVII: Operation Tiger*

P1: 🩷 P2: 🧡 P3: 🤍 P4: 🧡 P5: 🤍 P6: 🖤

Chapter XVIII: Run Joey Run*

Part1: 🩷 Part2: 🖤

Chapter XIX: #WLT*

Part 1: 🤍 Part 2: 🩷 Part 3: 🤍

Chapter XX: Wish I Never

Part 1: 🧡 Part 2: 🩷 Part 3: 🤍

Chapter XXI: Let’s Be Strangers*

Chapter XXII: Messy Gal

Chapter XXIII: Tour Countdown

Part 1: 🩷🤍 Part 2: 🤍🩷

Chapter XXIV: Mr. Perfect

Part 1: 🖤 Part 2: 🩷

Chapter XXV: Showtime

Part 1: 🤍 Part 2: 🖤

Chapter XXVI: Homecoming

Chapter XXVII: Champions*

more coming soon ♥︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.* ° :⋆ₓₒ

Misc/Blurbs/Extras

#Mars V Chase

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Pairing: Tamlin x reader

Summary: Reader lives an ordinary life in the deep forest without name, past, emotions and dreams until one day she saves wounded beast and takes it to her home. However beast isn't a beast at all and everything starts to change. The past storms into her life and turns it upside down. Will Y/N be able to withstand it and heal? And most importantly will she be able to return in time to save the person who matters the most?

Status: completed

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

Part X

Part XI

Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

Part XXI

Part XXII

Part XXIII

Part XXIV

Part XXV

Part XXVI

Part XXVII

Part XXVIII

Part XXIX

Part XXX

Epilogue

Series taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning @little-nightowl