#and to be fair that's my reaction anytime I see him. even if I knew before lol

[running-in-the-dark]

OH MY GOD that's Brent Spiner

[artmolonara]

Snow Day - A Lumpy Where's Waldo Story

A continuation of the Uncle Waldo series I've been creating. You can read the last two chapters, Lullaby Bye and Peek-A-Boo, via the links.

Also shout out to @nami-ramen again for continuing to make awesome illustrations based on my writing. You can see their rendition of the Peek-A-Boo chapter here (I also love the idea that the Detective was awake :oD)

Ok, fair warning: this one is a doozy, and deals with some VERY HEAVY subject matter that may be uncomfortable to some (Nothing bad done by our titular Waldo tho, he a "good" boy in this)

*** Proceed with Caution, and Enjoy ***

Two years. Seemed hard to believe how the time was flying. Waldo felt it not in his own body, but saw it on those he had been watching. That being, the Detective, and their child, Junior.

Enough time had now passed since Wenda's death that grief no longer clung to the Detective like a shadow. Waldo now only saw it periodically, in the night.

And Junior, they were now walking and talking, kinda, all over the place. The pair of them had begun to take walks over stroller rides, and Waldo had enjoyed tagging along on their strolls as a distant watcher. Every now and again, Junior might spot Waldo, and he'd give a wave. The kid seemed better at finding him than the Detective was.

Truly an marvelous development.

...

The end of the year was upon the world, and with it, snow had arrived.

Waldo liked snowy days, and not just because he liked to paint the snow with stripes of red, or watch screams become visible in the cold air, but also because the world could truly be still on winter days. Never was anytime truly as quiet, calming.

Though quiet wasn't what he was seeking right now. What was bringing him more joy was the squeals of delight carrying on the breeze as Junior and the Detective slide down a snow covered hill on a toboggan for the 11th time in a row.

It was a popular spot in the park, and a bunch of other families were sledding and snowboarding there as well, all enjoying the winter break.

Waldo watched from the other side of the frozen pines, unseen by all.

It was a rather fun thing, sledding. Part of Waldo wished he could join in on the activity, but alas, he must remain unseen, as per the game. For now, he was content to just observe. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he might watch one of the sledders, other than his hunter and their ward, wipe out spectacularly.

The wish was clearly a premonition, as within the minute, a rambunctious teen lost control of their snowboard, tumbling and crashing into a tree at incredible speeds, leaving their leg twisted backwards. Waldo smirked to himself at the screams that filled the air.

The responsible adults there, the Detective included, were immediately drawn to the scene. The Detective turned to Junior, speaking and gesturing to them in a way that Waldo recognized as "stay put." They then walked over with most of the other parents, leaving a series of kids sitting on the slop.

Junior was well behaved, Waldo knew, and was very good at staying put when told to, so there was no fear of them wandering off.

...

That was when Waldo noticed the man.

He seemed to come from behind a tree, as if he had always been there. Waldo was surprised he hadn't spied such a festive sweater.

Slowly, he walked in the direction of everyone, pausing to look at the commotion. After a moment, he looked towards the hill, and all of the children there.

The hairs on Waldo's neck stood up straight in recognition. He knew a predator when he saw one.

It began to make a beeline for Junior at an even pace. Waldo's grip tightened on his walking stick.

Did it dare?

It crouched down next to Junior, saying something to them, to which the child gave no reaction. Then, with a final glace around, the dingo scooped up the baby, and began to walk briskly away.

Oh, it did.

No one else had seen, all their attention had been on the lame teen screaming their guts out. But Waldo had seen, and when he was done, he was going to make those wails sound like cries of joy in comparison.

Oh, this will be fun...

...

Waldo could move extremely fast when he wanted to. Teleportation was one mode he traveled, but he could move in the space between that as well. Were anyone to see, they might just notice a strange, slightly sparking, gust of wind moving through the park, and how the lamps it passed seemed to blink on for a second.

He tracked the creature to the parking lot, seeing just as the car began to turn out. It moved at an leisurely pace, obviously not wanting to draw attention to itself.

Waldo kept pace with it, until it came to the first stop sign right at the park exit. Then, Waldo made himself reappear, inconspicuously, right next to the sign. Feigning a smile, Waldo waved at the car, and began to cross the road, acting like a common pedestrian.

The creature in the driver's seat feigned a polite smile back, acting like a common human. Waldo got a better look at it. The person suit it wore was unremarkable, a rather convincing disguise. His gaze looked then to the passenger's seat, where Junior was sitting. The child's blank face of confusion suddenly turned up to a smile in recognition at seeing their Uncle Waldo.

Waldo felt his smile twitch into a sneer. They were sitting in a booster seat.

A damned booster seat.

It had done this before.

I'm going to take my time with this one.

Stopping directly in front of the car, Waldo leaned forward on his cane, and began to stare daggers at the driver, still keeping his smirk. The creature's grin faulted a little, and it gave a polite beep with the horn. Waldo just shook his head, and rested his foot on the bumper, smile now becoming much, much wider.

The dingo caught on now, all pretense gone. In an attempt at retaliation, the gas was floored, but the tires only spun in the slushy snow, unmoving against Waldo's heel.

Enough preamble. Waldo slammed the end of his cane into the compacted ice, and there was a sudden sparking light in and around the car. Streetlights overhead flared and exploded, the car's engine sputtered and died, and before the beast had time to react, another cane appeared from the dark of the back seat and hooked around the creature's neck, pulling it taught against the headrest with no hope of air.

Move, and you die.

It was a command said by him, but not by HIM him.

While the creature's struggling stilled, an arm, identical to Waldo's own, reached passed and hit the child lock button. Waldo nodded, walking over the the passenger's door and opening it.

Junior's eyes had been locked on Waldo, and now seeing him closer, they reached out their arms, "Wally!"

Waldo's smile softened, "Hey, kiddo. Quite an adventure you're on today, but I think it's time we go back to the Detective. Don't want them to think something," he glanced up at the tumor, "bad happened to you." His teeth bared a bit wider as the cane around it's neck tightened to the point it's eyes bulged; the gurgle was pleasant to hear.

He undid the straps and picked Junior up and out of the car. As soon as he kicked the door shut, the car came back to life.

Drive.

The vehicle took off, and Waldo took a moment to wave goodbye, Junior mimicking.

He would catch up later.

...

No less than fifteen minutes had elapsed since the start of the whole ordeal, and over the sound of the distant ambulance sirens, Waldo could hear the Detective calling out for Junior. Their voice was just starting to shift in pitch from worry to general concern, and there was at least two other voices calling out as well.

As they reached a spot nearby, still out of view, Waldo slowly lowered Junior down to their feet, kneeling beside them.

"You OK?" Waldo asked, taking a moment to look the child over to makes sure nothing was out of place.

Still in good spirits, glancing off in the direction they were being called, Junior just gave a distracted, "Uh huh."

Waldo sighed, a worry now filling his chest, which was a very strange sensation, "OK well... listen OK?" He put his hands on the their shoulders.

Bright eyes looked to his, focusing when they saw how serious he was.

"You have to be careful of people you don't know. There are adults out there that could-"

Another call for Junior. There wasn't time to go into a full stranger danger lesson, unfortunately. He hoped the Detective would do that for him soon after.

"Just try to stay close to your Uncle Waldo and the Detective, OK? And if anyone else tries to take you somewhere or do something you don't like, you bite them." He put up his hands to mimic claws, "Like a T-Rex."

Junior smiled, and made a soft "Rawr!"

Waldo chuckled, "Rawr, that's right." The worry still swirled in his chest, and acting on it, he hugged Junior to him protectively.

"Just... be careful OK? I can't always be around to protect you..."

Almost as if comforting him, Junior's tiny hand patted his arm, followed by a soft, "Oh kay."

The Detective called again, and Junior turned away as Waldo let go. He smiled, "Race you to the Detective, ready?" He faked prepping a sprint, to which the child bounded in place with new adrenaline, "ReadysetGO!"

Junior took off, leaving Waldo sitting in the snow. He took a moment, quelling the waves of anxiousness he wasn't at all used to, before standing up and watching again from a distance.

Junior was found immediately, the Detective seemingly going through the same motions and emotions Waldo just had with Junior, talking somewhat sternly before hugging with relief. The pair soon left the park in the wake of the ambulance taking the forgotten lame teen to the hospital.

...

Later that evening, Waldo visited the Detective residence. Junior had already been sent to bed, having just transitioned out of the crib. The Detective now sat alone in front of a small smoldering fireplace, staring into the embers with an exhausted expression, a half finished mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table before them.

Waldo knew what they must be thinking, as his thoughts were there too. And while Waldo could see down the current path and knew that things would turn out alright, the worry and looming fear of what could have happened or happen was as oppressive as the cold night.

When the Detective nodded into sleep, and a passing car's engine roared, Waldo let himself in. He put out the remaining fire, then found a blanket on the couch to lay across the Detective's from. Long hands rested gently on weary shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze.

"Don't worry, they'll be alright," a gentle reassuring pat, a thumb caressing the base of a neck, "They have us. And we are in this together."

Tension slowly left the sleeping form. Waldo smiled, picking up the mug and downing the rest of the lukewarm liquid, lips on the rim touching the ghost of the Detective's in an indirect kiss.

A grandfather clock began to chime twelve. Waldo smirked with his last sip.

Time to have some fun.

"I'll see you for the holidays," He promised before vanishing with a crack. The Detective stirred, blearily looking around, before getting up to check on Junior.

...

It was at the final stroke of midnight that Waldo materialized before the darkened building on the edge of town. The perfect playground where he and his selves wouldn't be interrupted.

A small concrete room awaited. Inside had been strung up with red and white lights, glinting off the various tools and blunt objects strewn about like x-mas toys. Seems his alters also couldn't wait for the holidays to begin.

They looked at him as he came in.

"Ah good, we're all here then." Five sets of eyes feel on the dangerous cancer tied to a chair in the middle of the room. It struggled against its bonds, whimpering out muffled pleas for mercy behind duct tape. All futile.

It was a shame this work was going to have to be unaccredited. He would have loved to string this monster up by it's intestines for the Detective as a present. But unfortunately, the game required him to be subtle. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't play.

The situation had already been explained to it, why this was happening, and what was going to happen. The horror in it's eyes was at it's peak. Good, now they could get the party started.

A small radio was switched on, the static of cycling through stations rung the room like a drum. After a couple channels of festive music were passed over, a station playing Queen's Don't Stop Me Now was selected.

The tune filled Waldo up with anticipation, and he began to prance about to the rhythm. He channeled it all, all the new emotions, into a feeling of righteous fury that fueled him. Oh, he would make this last. Last for a very, very long time.

And as the Waldos began to harmonize with Mercury, dancing towards the beast with canes and weapons raised, the inhuman thing screamed out in glorious terror.

...

"COLD" CASE BODY FOUND

Warning: This news story contains graphic descriptions of crimes that may disturb some readers.

A dismembered and decimated body was discovered on Friday, February 14th hidden in a snowman in a local park.

This killing, according to police statements, is connected to the body parts found in snowmen that have been found over the last few months. DNA testing has identified them as belonging to the individual, but identification of the victim has yet to be determined.

The first of the body parts, a thumb, was discovered in early January of this year, hidden inside of a snowman in a local picnic area. Several others were soon discovered in the area, including more fingers, toes, and teeth. All had minor stages of decomposition due to being encased in snow, and analysts determined that all were removed from a living victim.

More snowmen appeared over the next few weeks, including more and more body parts taken from a still living victim. Evidence of torture was found, including blunt force trauma, stab wounds, electrocution, asphyxiation, poisoning, removal of skin, insect and animal predation, and burning via gasoline.

The body recovered showed extensive abuse, according to witnesses. "It wasn't even a person anymore," one witness described, "just a torso with it's heart exposed, like one of those anatomy classroom statues, but burnt to a crisp and if the peeled muscle side was the whole thing."

The final cause of death was determined to be hypothermia, and set just hours before the body was discovered. It is possible that the victim was encased into a snowman while still alive.

The hunt for the perpetrator is still ongoing. Our reporters got the following statement from the chief of police during yesterday's briefing.

"The person who committed this heinous act will be brought to justice. The manhunt has been expanded to the neighboring counties, and we urge anyone with any information to come forward."

When asked if this is at all tied to the Waldo killings that occurred almost 3 years ago, the chief of police stated, "There is no evidence linking those cases at this time. This appears to be just a single victim over a long period, which does not match the MO of Waldo."

Identification of the body is expected to be determined next week.

...

Alert

Be on the look out for this man, Fred-----------. Last seen three months ago.

The assailant's vehicle was discovered in ---------- with evidence of child kidnapping and -------------- discovered in a hidden compartment.

If you see this man, contact authorities immediately.

...

Missing Children Found

5 children have been discovered after having been missing for months.

They are identified as ------------, ---------------, ---------------,----------------------, and ------------------------------. All were victims of kidnapping at various different times last year. According to reports, all have evidence of various types of abuse.

The children were discovered outside the local detective office, having apparently been dropped off.

The children have been reunited with their families and are expected to receive treatment for their trauma.

We reached out to the families and the officers on this case for more information.

"Well of course, we're really relieved that she's home, and she's safe now," the mother of one of the children told us in an interview. "According to ---------, she was saved from a bad man by a bunch of Santa's elves. I've never been one for praying until our baby was taken, and I think perhaps someone must have heard our prayer and returned our baby to us."

All children seem to identify that they were being held somewhere dark and abused by a man described as -------------------------, then being left alone a long time without food before being "rescued" by multiple different people. These individuals reportedly fed and cared for them for a short while before releasing them.

One child described the rescuers as looking like "Mr. Mint from Candyland".

At this time, no assailants have been identified. Investigation of this case is still ongoing.

...

It would be a couple weeks more before the Detective figured something out.

The placement of the snowmen seemed random at first, but after piecing it together in order of appearance, words began to form in red string upon the town map.

The last one, the body, was the final dot in the exclamation:

DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS!

~FIN/to be continued~

OK, a long one, I know, but god, I just needed a creep like that to suffer, and to make Waldo go full Dexter/Rorschach on them. Also if it wasn't obvious, old Freddy K was the inspiration for that guy (the remake one at that) F that guy!

I think I have just one more Junior focused Waldo fic planned, and perhaps a "X-mas special" involving the Detective and a sprig of mistletoe.

By the way, if you like my work, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi, would really help me out a lot right now.

BUY ME A KO-FI

[spcewild]

Hey... After playing mk1 i had this idea lingering in my mind as i was maining smoke. Could you write simething like, everytime reader and smoker fight together against a common enemy he always put himself in front of you, like a natural reaction for him its to protect you even tho you know how to defend yourself... And this being his mind not knowing how to express how much he likes the reader. Sorry haha i have no idea what i want im so sorry i love you and your fics

Hiii anon!!

Tysm for the request, this is such a cute idea <33

And I'm glad u like my fics!<3

I had to do some research on smoke so I can get his personality on point lol, if I wrote something that doesn't quite sound like something he'd say then please let me know! :)

Now here it is! ☆

Smoke x (gn!) Reader

Warnings: fluff, violence, smoke being a cutie patootie, and maybe some other things I missed.

Summary: Smoke is an obvious sweetheart who is willing to help you in battle - no matter what. But.. even if you don't need his help? You bet! He's still there!! :)

"You know I can defend myself right?"

You speak almost in a pout, when you see yet again - Smoke haul his body in front of you when you two were ambushed by some enemies. (Ones probably sent by Shang Tsung)

"Of course I know that!- it's just.. what if you get hurt- or-"

You half heartedly paid attention to his rambling when he started defending himself. Yet despite him speaking in his defense, he was still able to take out the remaining enemies surrounding you two.

You knew he didn't think you were weak or anything, it's just the way he was - a habit he made anytime he sensed danger or anytime an enemy would even come within 10 feet of you.

It didn't click in your mind that the reason He was doing this was because he liked you.

At first you just shrugged it off as him trying to be helpful.. or slightly too protective? It only took a few incidents that actually made it obvious to you though finally.

One being;

During training when you were put into a duo team - you were paired with smoke. You two fought against Johnny and Kenshi, a fair fight but anytime he saw either Johnny or Kenshi even look at you, he'd sprint over in front of you like he was some sort of human shield. It shocked you as much as it did Johnny and Kenshi the first time he did it. It didn't take long for them to get used to his habit of the action.

Although another incident made you question why he truly did it-

When you and Smoke decided to stroll down to Madam Bo's for a dinner (in his excuse taking you being a "professional" dinner of two combat partners) you two were walking on the sidewalk of the cobblestone earthy floor of road. But as you two were walking past a few food stands - you heard it before you could even see it; a crashing sound coming from one of the carts. Your mind processed what was happening but not in time for your body to react. Yet you felt strong arms wrap around your body as you squeezes your eyes shut, waiting for some sort of impact.

When met with nothing but silence you slowly opened an eye. Then the other.

You were now able to take in the view in front of you - Smoke with his arms wrapped around your waist , his body hovering over yours as his back was flushed against the cart that had tipped over. With little effort he managed to push the cart back into place with his back.

"Are you okay?!-"

You heard the man call out as his head turned back to you, his eyes wandering over your body as if he was checking for marks.

"I'm fine Tomas- thank you.."

Throughout the entire dinner you caught him taking glances at you as if he was making sure you were okay.

(Which he, of course, paid for all himself)

But what made you suspicious of most was when he jumped in front of you while you were solo dueling against Raiden.

You and Raiden were casually sparring, in request of Liu Kang to help train you both. Some people including Kung Lao and Johnny were watching as some were elsewhere. And surprise - Smoke was watching over you two like you would shatter at any minute.

While sparring you had to admit - you were losing. And it was... pretty obvious. Raiden was a very skilled fighter and losing against him would not be an uncommon occurrence.

Despite that, when Smoke saw Raiden pulling his arm back seemingly about to give a fatal blow - Smoke ran over onto action and jumped right between you and Raiden.

Standing there shocked for a moment before the fight continued - mostly just Smoke taking over your own fight.

That was the big giveaway for you - there was no way he was just doing this out of the kind of his heart? Right?

You finally decided that there was something going on about him, deciding that soon you would need ask him about it.

☆

Author's note:

Sorry this was so short! I wanted to finish it by the end of the night lol, I hope you enjoy this <3

REQUESTS: OPEN

[mymelodymia]

Girls pt 2 Dad!tony stark x lesbian!daughter!reader

Summary: "meeting" the parents

Warnings:

A/N: I love this series <3

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

After coming out to your dad, you immediately called cam. You were crying with joy and excitement, "cam! I did it! I did it! Aaaaaaahaha" you squealed the moment she answered.

"What did he say!?" You heard your lovely girlfriend scream from the other end of the phone. "He got all sassy at first but THEEENNNN, he said 'well when am i gonna meet her?' Gaaaaaahahahahah!"

"Did you tell him it was me?" She asked, knowing the answer "nope!" You both continued screaming and squealing untill you were exhausted and plopped down on your bed, you both just talked for a while.

+•°+*°•+

It was the day your parents were "meeting" your beloved camilla. Little did they know.

You walked through the front door, her hand wrapped around yours, you were quite nervous for peppers reaction even though you knew she'd be fine with it.

You walked around the corner to reveal her, tony and pep were sitting comfortably on the couch beside each other. Their strict expressions immediately turned to confusion upon seeing cam!

Though pepper was confused because you hadn't yet come out to her, and tonys confusion was from seeing your best friend since kindergarten holding hands with you, the way she gripped your hand, and you did the same clearly showed you were both nervous.

"Mom, dad, this....is my girlfriend" your breathing picked up a bit as they continued staring, before pepper spoke up. "Y-you like....girls?" She asked leaning back, "yep, i dont know how you haven't figured it out yet. I mean, i show no interest in guys you point out"

"Thats pretty fair, but cam, i want you to know that, i accept you dating my daughter, i made the decision so fast because i know you, and i know youll care and love my daughter. Buuutt, you still gotta watch it." Tony said standing up, you let out a sigh of relief.

"Pep? What about you" she had stayed quiet so long you didn't think she'd like the idea of you having a girlfriend. But she stood up, and took cams hands in hers.

"I also accept you to be with her, youre a very sweet and wonderful girl, and youre welcome here anytime" you both grinned from ear to ear after she said that.

And what was supposed to be a stressful evening, sitting down with your parents. Was actually pretty fun, tony took his girls (and her girl) to get pizza and ice cream, and you all even caught a movie too. You had an amazing time.

But of course, it was time for cam to go home, you walked her out, hugging her just before she got through the door. You kissed her gently.

You heard tony yell "hey!" Pointing a finger at the two of you. You both giggled at this, and you kissed her again anyway. Once she left you went to bed, you were so happy with how today turned out.

+•°+*°•+

Tags

@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @zebralover // @carellmcu //

[fictionlovingnerdgirl]

Oh my gosh, I absolutely love the fic you did for me, it was perfect. I was wondering if you could do a part two of the infatuation fic with Scott, but from the reader’s perspective. Maybe the reader knew all along that scott is obsessed/ stalkerish with them, they feel his gaze on them. Hell they even like it and tease/ show off to scott.

The Red Means I Love You (Pt 2)

A/n: TYSM!!! I think this is a great idea actually.. same as last time!! I'm trying not to use Y/N. It's a little shorter but would anyone be interested in a continuation? Maybe a 3rd part? If so give me some ideas or scenarios.

Warnings: Intense infatuation over reader, flirty teasing, maybe more sexual teasing but nothing explicitly NSFW!! Just adult flirting.

(haven't read the first part? Go read it here)

Your interest in Scott was very well hidden, at least to everyone around you. Scott was always focused on you, it had to be obvious, your interest in him. Looking him up and down while no one else was looking. You couldn't see under his visor or glasses, but you could feel his eyes on you almost anytime he was in the room.

Sometimes even when he wasn't.

Last night in the kitchen almost backfired on both of you, as Jean threw her little fit, in her normal Jean nature. Jean always puts up a pretty sweet front, being sweet to the kids and smiling and nodding, but she wasn't as sweet as she seemed. She was Scott's ex, she slept with Logan multiple times before Scott had enough and "broke her heart" as she says. She was never fair to Scott, that's why you caught his eye.

You liked to see how he reacted when you praised his leadership, thanked him after missions and outings, and you even saved him once or twice. You were perfect and loyal like a dog, and seeing his reactions to your praise ("you're such a good leader, Scott.") was empowering. His face flushed and his breath quickened, he could always say it's from being out on the field. But you knew better.

Sometimes you'd look up from the library and Scott was there, his head tilted down and a book in front of him, but you knew his eyes were on you. It was more than obvious, and it happened everywhere, dinner, training, classes, (you were both very likeable professors, but you weren't as strict as him so you're definitely a favorite.) and almost anywhere but your room and the girls locker room after training.

And now you were together, you just finished training as you walked over to him and sat beside him on the bench, about a few inches away. "You did good today, Scott." You say as you both are breathing heavy and sore, sweat on your neck as you try to cool off, looking over to see his face red. (It wasn't just the training, you did that.)

Scott nods after a minute, "thanks, you.. you did well too." He turns his head to look at you and while you can't see his eyes, you know he's looking directly into yours, so why not play with him a bit?

"Well, I had a good teacher." You wink at him and see his breath falter and his hands squeeze his arm a bit tighter than before. "I- uh. Yeah" he stutters out, looking away as it finally starts cooling down. Man, he was easy to get going.

"I could use some more lessons, one on one." You say soft and nonchalantly, now usually asking for one on one danger room lessons is completely innocent, but with you? With Scott?... it meant more than that, he goes to nod, still looking away and making a small "mhm" noise.

It was fun seeing the great fearless leader all flustered and speechless, and it's not like you were just playing with him. Maybe you'd say that you were joking if confronted, or try to convince yourself of it, but something in you yearned for the leader. Scott summers wasn't only beautiful but kind and loyal, Jean never deserved him.

To your surprise he actually replies, no small noises as he talks softly and his voice sounds brighter, "We uh, we could set that up." He says as you turn and notice he's looking at you, his face softens, and you want to tease him some more but instead you just lightly nod and reply quietly.

"I'd like that."

[winchesterszvonecek]

It Made Me Think of You - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ]

Summary: Otis gives you a gift that made him think of you as a way to finally confess his feelings for you requested

Word Count: 2152

Warnings: female!reader, fluff

Masterlist | Otis Masterlist

Otis couldn’t stop himself from thinking about that little crocheted animal he’d seen. Couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much it reminded him of you. How much it made him smile, made his heart warm whenever he pictured what your reaction might be if you saw it.

He could see you now, smiling wider than ever before. Your cheeks dipping into those cute little dimples, the ones he always loved to see. He knew you’d love it. Would probably even talk all cute towards it, like you often did with your stuffed animals, something he found utterly adorable. Would you blush? Would you get nervous? Flustered even, that he’d gotten it for you? Otis didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or you. He never stopped thinking of you.

It’s what made him double back for it, thinking of you. It’s what made him walk all the way back to the entrance of the craft fair he’d decided to stroll through on his way home. It was the very first stall, the one he saw the very second he stepped foot under the sign, that’s where he spotted that tiny, handmade version of your favourite animal, the one you always talked about. The one that decorated many of the things you owned. Many of the belongings that littered your apartment, your car, even your locker was covered in stickers, most of which he’d gotten for you anytime he’d seen them.

He always loved getting you gifts, just so he could see your reaction and feel the hug you gave him afterwards, the ones where you always lingered for a couple extra seconds before pulling away. The ones where he could smell your shampoo and your perfume. Feel the softness of your hair as it brushed against him. All the little things that had made him fall for you.

It’s part of the reason why he bought you the present, so he could use it as a way to finally tell you how he felt. He’d spent months trying to figure out whether you liked him back, something he still didn’t know but that he could only dream you did, especially with how you looked at him sometimes… It was different to the way you looked at the others. But whatever the answer may be, yes hopefully, he would find out soon enough.

He’d find out in a few minutes actually as he’d just knocked on the door to your apartment, the nerves in his stomach building rapidly as he heard movement inside which told him you were home. He almost backed out. Almost dropped the present at your door like a stalker and ran off, but then the door opened and the second he saw your pretty face appearing from behind it, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not unless you told him to.

“Otis, this is a nice surprise.” You said with a beaming smile, one which almost had him on the floor it made his heart beat that fast. You stepped back, opening the door further, a sweet smelling scent escaping out into the hallway as you revealed your outfit. Your pyjamas to be exact, which were themed the same as the little stuffed animal he held in his hands, as were your socks which he couldn’t help but smile at. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh…” Otis began, clearing his throat before he lifted the little gift bag he held in his hand up, watching your eyes drop to it with a semi-furrowed brow. “I saw this on my way home and it uh, it- It made me think of you.” He finished, feeling incredibly nervous as his gaze shifted from you, unable to see how your eyes softened.

“Oh, that’s so sweet.” You said softly, touched at his gesture as you took the bag from him, your stomach fluttering when his fingers brushed against yours. “Thank you, Otis… This is really nice of you.”

“It’s nothing.” Otis shrugged off, praying the heat he felt on his cheeks wasn’t showing.

“Do you want to come in? I just baked cookies.” You said happily, watching the way his eyes widened a little as you always knew he loved your cookies. Which may be why you always made them and brought them to work with you, just so you could make him smile.

“I’d love to.” He breathed out, his smile widening as you stepped further back, allowing him to enter your sweet smelling apartment. He heard the door click behind him as he delved further in, taking in the surroundings he’d only had the pleasure of seeing a few times since he met you.

Otis couldn’t help but notice the array of animal themed objects, all of which were of your favourite. They made him smile, even more than he already was, as he pictured your face when you saw his gift. He couldn’t help but wonder where you’d put it. Whether it would go atop your shelf or join the other stuffed animals that he had no doubts covered your bed.

“Do you want some coffee?” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts as he spun on his heels, having been staring at a little glass animal that sat atop your bookshelf. His eyes landed on yours, your head tilted a little as you waited on his response, something that was taking longer than it should to come out.

“Please.” He said quickly, mentally cursing himself for being so awkward. “I uh, I’d love some.” He said a little calmer and more human-like, making you smile briefly before you nodded your head and moved towards the kitchen, setting his gift bag on the counter.

“Do you want a boring mug or a fun mug?” You asked, holding up a plain white mug in one hand and an animal shaped mug in the other.

“Fun mug, definitely.” Otis chuckled, coming to lean against your breakfast bar, his eyes unable to stop shifting between you and the rack of cookies that lay on top of the granite counter beneath him.

“See, I knew you’d get it.” You said, satisfied with his answer. “The other day Herrmann frowned at me when I asked him if he wanted a fun mug.” You added with a chuckle, setting his coffee filled fun mug in front of him.

“Fun mugs are the only way to go.” Otis said humorously before thanking you for the drink and taking a sip, feeling the warmth of it trickle down his throat, on its way to join the nerves in his stomach.

“Exactly.” You nodded, laughing a little as you took your own sip of coffee. You could see his eyes darting to your cookies, your still un-decorated cookies as they hadn’t cooled enough yet for icing. You smiled, rolling your lips before you picked one up and held it out to him. “They’re still a little warm but I know you don’t mind.”

“Thank you.” Otis said quietly, taking the cookie from you and biting into it, having to refrain from literally moaning over how good they tasted. “Seriously, why are you wasting your baking talents by being a paramedic? You could open up a bakery, you're so good at making these.” He added, voice a little muffled as he was still mid chew.

“I’ve thought about it.” You sighed out, leaning your elbows against the counter top. “But if I opened a bakery, I wouldn’t get to spend time with the guys at fifty-one. Or with you.” You added quietly towards the end, making Otis’s stomach somersault.

“Trust me, if you opened a bakery you’d be seeing a lot of me.” He replied, making you chuckle softly as your eyes fell from his. You always wanted to open a bakery but you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave fifty-one. Or leave Otis. Your eyes shifted, gazing across the counter before they landed on the forgotten gift bag. “Oh, I totally forgot you’d brought me something.”

Your words had Otis’s stomach knot together as you reached for the bag, the excitement practically radiating from you as you pulled out the tissue paper that covered the small crocheted animal. The second your eyes landed on it, softening as you slowly pulled it from the bag was enough to remove any doubts Otis had in the back of his mind about telling you the truth on how he felt about you.

“Oh my goodness!” You all but squealed from excitement, the empty gift bag dropping to the floor as you held that very thoughtful and very cute animal in your hands, feeling the softness of the wool against your skin. “This is so cute! Where did you find this?”

“The uh, the craft fair.” Otis told you with a touch of nervousness as he scratched the back of his head. He knew that you knew craft fairs could be expensive and the last thing he wanted was for you to reject the gift over it being too much. “I walked through on my way home and this little guy caught my attention… I remembered how much you love them so I couldn’t leave him there, not when it reminded me so much of you.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest over his words, his utterly thoughtful words that had you thinking that he literally couldn’t get anymore perfect if he tried. You brought the animal up to your chest, leaning your chin down against it before you finally mustered up the courage to look back at Otis, who was staring at you with such adoration in his eyes that you couldn’t help but think that he liked you the same way you liked him.

“Thank you, Brian… This… This is really sweet.” You said softly, the use of his real name almost throwing Otis off completely had you not started moving. You rounded the counter towards him, setting the stuffed animal aside before pulling him in for a hug, one he happily returned.

Neither of you could tell the other's heart was beating fast, you both just figured it was your own you felt and you prayed that one another couldn’t feel it. Your hold on him lingered, as it usually did, but this time when you pulled back, you didn’t pull back fully. Instead, you pulled back just enough so that you could look him in the eyes, the tips of your noses almost touching.

“Why did you really buy me that gift?” You whispered, your breath hot against his lips as it puffed across them, sending a chill down his spine as his hand twitched to reach out and hold you. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He replied, his voice hitching a little from nerves as he slowly lifted his hand, lightly brushing the back of his knuckles across your cheek.

“I need to hear you say it.” You said, your eyes closing for a split second at his touch on your skin, one which had your body breakout in goosebumps. Your own hand raised a touch, coming to rest on the back of his neck as he opened his mouth to speak, your touch against his skin making him need a second before he finally said the words he’d wanted to say for so long.

“Because I like you.” He whispered, your stomach fluttering furiously. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you from the day you walked in to fifty-one… Because I think…” He continued, his hand coming to rest properly on your face. “…if given the chance, we could have something really special.”

The second Otis finished speaking, your lips were on his, taking him by surprise. You didn’t need to hear anything else, not when he’d just told you all you needed to know. You kissed him gently. Lovingly. In a way the two of you had only ever thought about before.

It was everything you’d imagined it would be. So soft. So utterly perfect that you wanted to melt beneath his lips, and you almost did too had he not wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you closer to him as you began to feel the slight burn of his facial hair against your skin. Your fingers thread through his dark curls, pulling him closer to you as you deepened the kiss, the one neither of you ever wanted to end.

The gentle ringing of your animal themed kitchen timer pulled you both apart, the two of you almost gasping for air as your foreheads came to rest atop one another’s.

“My brownies are ready.” You whispered, a soft chuckle leaving both your reddened lips as Otis brushed your hair behind your ear, pulling back just a little so he could see you better before he spoke.

“If you hadn’t had me already… then you’d definitely have had me at brownies.”

Like this? Apply to my Otis tag list here!

tagging: @sancochillo @kellykidd

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

[starynightcreator]

It's Not All Bad

Chapters: 2-8

Characters included: Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, and Steve Harington

Word Count: 4,893

No use of Y/N

18+! May be triggering to some!

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Kissing, Shy/ Anxious Reader, Sweet/Protective Eddie, Jealousy, Cursing, Alcohol use, Yelling, Heartbreak, Betrayal, & Friends To Lovers.

Summary: After a betrayal from your best friend and boyfriend, you find comfort in the arms of eddie.

Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. This is my first story and I'm a little nervous.

!Must give credit when re-sharing/ sharing. Don't take credit please and thank you!

PART TWO:

“Star it’s me, may I come in?”

That of course made you laugh (which Eddie heard giving him butterflies and a silly smile. He was happy you didn’t see that.) as it was his van but man did you love how he was so sweet to you. “Yes Edds you may enter.” Once in the van Eddie sits on the pillow next to you. “Hmmm sweet little place you got here.” As you laughed you said “Well it actually belongs to this really sweet guy I know. But he lets me borrow it occasionally.” You could see Eddie's smirk which gave you butterflies. It wasn't fair you thought. How even his smile could drive you crazy. You knew if he said a damn thing you’d be a goner so before he could get a word out you ask. “Hey Edds?’’“Yeah?’’“Do you wanna go to the party with me tomorrow? Steve and Nancy have barely been around so I don’t think they’d wanna come.’’'I'd love to go with you Star.’’“REALLY!? I mean okay cooollll.”“Oh my gosh yes *mimics REALLY!”“You’re an ass.”“I have one thank you for noticing.”“Wait I-”“Star have you been staring at my ass?!”“NO!”“Then why’d you call me one?!”“I hate you.”“No you don’t.”“You like me oh and it seems you like my ass too.”“EDDIE SHUT UP!” (at this point you are bright red). “Look I hear your words but your face says the complete opposite.” You always hated how easily he got to you or how red you always got. No matter how hard you try to hide your reaction from him your face would rat you out. “I’m not going to look at you anymore.” “Awe no Star don’t do that.”“Why not?” Eddie had to think for a moment as what he wanted to say he couldn’t. He wanted to say well then I can’t look at your beautiful face or then I can’t kiss you…But he couldn’t. You were with Steve, happy or not. You are a very loyal person and he knew even if it was something you wanted but it happened while still in a relationship with Steve you’d be crushed to know you just cheated on your partner. So he said this instead. “Because if you turn around then I'll leave.”“Hey wait! Don’t do that!”“See you do like me!” At this point you are so red that you are now burning up. Normally you’d leave the person causing this or ignore them. But you liked spending time with Eddie and never wanted to waste a minute. “I plead the fifth. But umm could you maybe take me home. I don't wanna walk.”“Yeah I can do that, come on.” The drive home was silent but a comfortable silence. The kind where you feel safe and wish it was like that all the time. The silence that feels like a warm hug. Times with Eddie were always good. Even when you’d have fights as you’d make up and go back to whatever y'all were doing. Steve hated silence so anytime it got like this he would do something loud or disruptive. People always thought differently about the two boys but Eddie spent so much time running around being a dork at school by the time he was home he needed time to relax. But Steve was like a switch one minute he was chill the next minute he was go, go, going. Eddie finally arrived at your home and once he pulled in he parked and as usual he ran to open your side of the door for you. (such a gentleman) “M’lady”“Oh why thank you. What would I ever do without my knight in shining armor” You knew you were going to forever regret those words but you didn’t care because they were true. He was that and more to you. But boy will he tease you for saying that. But shockingly he was more flattered and his teasing was a bit more flirty….you got so many butterflies just from his smile alone. Once you’ve finally made it to the front door Eddie finally speaks. “Oh I'm your knight now am I?” Eddie slowly starts walking towards you as you both speak (you are leaning on the front door that has yet to be opened). “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you are hearing things.” “Star, my hearing is fine. Don’t be a smartass now.” You knew you weren’t getting out of this so you thought you’d try something. “You gotta pay the Star fee first.”“The Star fee?”“Yup.”“Okay what is it?”“A hug.”“A hug?”“A hug, yes.” You thought he’d decline and maybe change the subject so you figured you’d move on until…..

[justonemorewallflower]

Finally a cousin BSG update!! Took me a while as I've been working on other things/haven't had the time to collect all her thoughts into one thing haha.

This will be Season 2 Episode 18 Downloaded through Season 3 Episode 17 Maelstrom! As well as Razor! So I have to cover almost an entire season haha but it's okay! Since I have so much to cover in this one I will only really share her reactions to big events/twists or anything she said that I just found funny. Also obviously of course, major spoilers!!

Razor she thought was interesting, I think she was on the fence on how to feel about Shaw but ultimately didn't really like her. She still hates Cain too, Razor didn't change her opinion on Cain at all which is fair.

She was upset about the whole faking Hera is dead thing.

She was surprised/interested to find out there's a Six who sees Baltar in her head like Baltar sees her.

She was very concerned/confused about Chief and his breakdown thing where he had beat the shit out of Cally. She became even more confused when at the very end of season two it showed him and Cally together and Cally pregnant. She thought they could be cute during the scene where Cally like forgave him, etc. but she didn't know how to feel because of what he had done to her.

I'm not sure how she felt about the Caprica resistance getting rescued but she was annoyed because that meant Kara and Sam and she was super uncomfortable/annoyed during the scene where Lee walked in on them kissing and Kara introduced him to Sam lol.

She was a bit annoyed about Laura and them trying to rig the election but she understood it too because she also did not want Baltar as president.

For the end of season 2 my cousin expected Gaius to win the election for president and even mumbled something about how he's not gonna be good at it. In the one year flash forward she was slightly confused, wanting to know what happened between the election and then especially between certain characters (like Kara and Lee). She was also taken back and mad when she found out Kara was married to Sam lmao, she was like "Married?! Excuse me?!" 😭🤣 And then when the Cylons showed up she wasn't really surprised, mostly just annoyed as she sighed.

Beginning of Season 3 with all the Leoben/Kara stuff she absolutely hated it and she hates Leoben. She got even more annoyed and confused/worried for Kara when he introduced Kacey. She thought Kacey was actually their child until she got back on Galactica and her mom took her back and then she felt bad for Kara.

She also felt bad for Tigh and was annoyed at Ellen for frakking Cavil.

She had pretty much guessed/knew that Gaeta had been the resistance's inside source and was really annoyed when the mass shooting/execution had been about to occur, as well as the suicide missions/bombings. And she was super annoyed when once back on Galactica the circle was trying to convict him of treason and send him out an airlock. She was relieved when Kara got him to admit the truth which ended up saving him. She was mad that they killed Jammer and was actually relieved when Sam had left the group she was like "thank you you're the only smart one" and she was PISSED when they asked Kara to replace him.

She found Lee being fat humorous and was mad again when she found out he and Dee were married also.

She was glad that Tigh poisoned Ellen as she felt she deserved it and never liked her anyway. Her hatred for Ellen is lowkey funny because literally almost anytime she was on screen she would get immediately annoyed and/or disgusted.

When Balter was questioning if he was a Cylon or not my cousin was like I could see it that would make sense but she also just wants him to be the special human haha. Rn though Baltar is one of her guesses for the final five but she doesn't really know for sure lol.

She was kind of annoyed with the episode Hero.

She was glad for Unfinished Business and how it explained things that had happened during the time jump and she was loving/hating the tension between Kara and Lee. She had loved the scene between them on New Caprica, smiling like a dork during it, and was confused and upset when Kara married Sam the next day. She was very upset about it because she was like "we could have had Kara and Lee!"

She also thinks Laura and Bill are really cute and wants them to get together already.

She wasn't really surprised about Kat's death, she had kind of expected it, knowing how someone was gonna let their radiation levels get too high and try to be a hero and she guessed it would be Kat. She was pretty neutral about it as she didn't necessarily hate Kat but she didn't necessarily like her either.

She was originally confused when Athena had Helo shoot her before realizing why and she was happy she got her baby back.

She was really annoyed when Kara got shot down on the Algae planet and Lee refused to let Sam rescue her and the arguing about Kara between those two because of it and then how Lee sent Dee to rescue her and the interaction she had with Kara. She was also just annoyed with the scene with Kara and Lee in the raptor and discussion divorce, etc.

She reallyyyyy wants to find out the final five and it's bugging her so much haha like when D'Anna saw them in the Temple she was nearly begging "show one of their faces, do it! Show a face come on!" 😭🤣

She was SUPER upset about Kara's death haha she said "she better be a Cylon or come back somehow" and I'm just over here like well... she does but only to disappear again later haha 🤣😭

She's very much in distraught right now and purposely had that episode be the last one we watched that night because she didn't want to move on to the next episode yet as that would either confirm her death and have everyone grieving over her or not and she said she's not ready for that yet and needs some time haha.

She and I will be watching more today and will likely probably get to either beginning or quarter of way into season 4.

I can't wait to see her reaction to finding out 4 of the final 5 as right now it doesn't seem like she expects any of them. Maybe Chief just because of his whole questioning himself thinking he's a Cylon thing but she didn't really believe it so I think she'll be surprised, especially since that isn't the first time he's hinted at being a Cylon. She definitely doesn't expect any of the other 3 and Ellen she probably will be mad about since she hates her haha but she won't be surprised.

I also can't wait to see what she thinks when Kara returns and what theories she ends up coming up with regarding her and he return, etc. I wonder if she'll think she's a Cylon like I had or not. I'm also just curious to how much she'll like her character after she returns since she's pretty different just because she's so focused on trying to fulfill her destiny to lead humans to Earth and seems crazy because of it.

I also can't wait to see her reaction to cult Baltar haha she'll probably be so weirded out. Same with the weird Six/Tigh plot line.

***

I feel like I'm missing some things but I'm not sure haha I covered a lot so I'll just leave it at this!

[okaydoll1301]

A Bullet Dodged, A Bullet Taken

Small warning as I got ahead of myself on this one, but this is a possible spoiler for what I have writing now with this pair.

Warning: nsfw, blood mentioned

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

Miles turned his head when he heard Catherine walk in. It was a mild reflex to the sound of her jangling keys as she put them on the hook and the small thumps of her tucking away her shoes at the front door.

"Hey, Cat." He called for her and even with socks on he could hear her footsteps taken just a tad quicker. The small chime of the bell rang, reminding him so much of a cat, but if she was anything, she was a dog; a detrimentally loyal, obedient, always seeking approval dog.

Miles could sense her smile already by the way her hands rubbed down his shoulders. She'd been so much more affectionate since she had asked to put their little play collar back on. He tapped the top off her hands. "C'mere, will you?"

"Yeah," She answered immediately, moving around to the couch. However, she took a slight step back, faltering when he saw the expression he had on. His jaw was tight, his gaze cold, and he looked anything but relaxed. When she saw him point down to the floor before him her lips tightened as she chewed them. "Kneel." In an instant she was on her knees before him, her hands tucked in her lap as her eyes kept glued to all of him. She was seeking, searching for what he wanted eyes darting between each of his eyes and the subtle moves of his brows and lips.

Right now, he was mostly curious. Could she read him the way he could read her? He sat back thinking to his time within WRU walls. He'd been working late or at least that's what he told her. But anytime beyond their work for the day was spent learning the little tricks of the trade. He'd learned the positions they had their pets learn, all 40 something of them. They were tedious and he wasn't interested in having her learn them. What did interest him was the different reactions of each pet and how they circumvented the worst of their resistance.

He'd watched Catherine grow up alongside him, and watched as she'd become so many different people throughout the years. He'd found himself falling in love with each version. But as she looked up at him with those big brown eyes, he knew this was the version he wanted to stay. He stared at her for a moment, her body tensing as her gaze dropped. "Look at me, kotenok."

She swallowed, her fingers just barely digging into her thighs, but still she looked back up at him. He frowned and tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her up until her face was pressed to his crotch. She kept her eyes frozen to him, as her hands reached to undo his pants. His hand came crashing down on her cheek, immediately leaving her skin red and her head twisted to the side. She kept completely silent other than an initial gasp.

"Did I give permission?"

"No, sir." Fuck all. She looked up at him with sweetest look of shame and so help him god he wanted to see it some more. He stood, his fingers curling under her collar as he dragged her back. Maybe she hadn't noticed yet, but he'd moved the coffee table against the wall to have more room for his plan today. "What are you-" Her voice cut off as he pulled the collar taut.

He crouched beside her, as he slowly pushed her on her back onto the rug. Her eyes went from fearful to a slow realization. "I should have asked, moy korol."

"Right. So what's going to happen now, hm?" His voice challenged, hoping she wouldn't fail again. He already found himself disappointed she was still addressing him by their nicknames, but in all fairness, this also gave him good pretenses to let her really have it this time. He'd baited her and she'd taken it.

"The...the cane, korol." The answer was soft and gave her nervousness away. He knew she hated disappointing him.

His lips twitched and he pulled the collar tight again and watched her legs kick and twist in a struggle to regain her breath when he held on too long. "What's my name, kisa?" He asked, his irritation finally showing as he turned her on all fours and made her crawl forward. "You agreed to this, didn't you?" His hands moved quickly as he grabbed the ring on her collar and found the small chain under the coffee table. It didn't have enough slack for her to lift her head, forcing her to either completely prostrate herself or lift that lovely behind for him. To his delight she chose the latter, making the perfect view for him as he stripped her of her shorts in one uncomfortable pull. The way her body fell forward caused her to strike her face on the bottom edge of the table, but he did nothing to console her.

His hand reached for the retractable cane they kept concealed under the lip of the table and she visibly flinched when he flicked it to its full length. Her ankles crossed over each other, probably anticipating being bound, but she was still shivering. "Yes, master." Her voice tapered at the end as if she was still ashamed to say it. No that's not right. She was embarrassed she made a mistake and they both knew it.

Thwack. The thin rod made contact with the back of her thighs and she lurched only to be stopped by the chain keeping her caught. Without even checking, he knew she was biting her lip to stop her cries. "That won't do, kisa. Not this time. Open that pretty little mouth or so help me I will do this until your entire back bleeds." His arm raised again and this time she let out a pained yelp. Again and again, he struck, until her voice turned into squeals and she was making herself as small as she could. Gone was the obedient woman he'd enjoyed before she made a mistake, replaced instead by sniffles and sobs of a beaten pet. He used his foot to push her legs apart, pushing the cloth of her panties aside and slid his fingers teasingly on her. She squealed again, but this time not in pain.

He laughed now, a hearty one, "Nravitsya li eto moyemu kotenku?" When she didn't respond he slipped his fingers in, feeling just how slick she'd gotten for him. Her back and legs were covered in gnarly welts, most bleeding, and yet her body would always respond well. "Answer me." His tone was soft as he rubbed the tip of the cane on her skin, spelling out his name absent mindedly in her blood before shoving the handle between her teeth and standing up. For a good moment he watched as she stayed head down, biting into the handle so it wouldn’t drop.

He moved around her before getting an idea. He took quick long strides to his office, making a beeline to retrieve a small metal object he'd been keeping tucked away in a drawer. It had been a small gift from Glen; one Glen had insisted he use soon to up the ante just a hair. When he returned to her she put her head down so the handle was resting on the floor and she wouldn't drop it. It almost made him laugh and wonder if maybe she could last the night with what he had in mind.

"Catherine. I have a little something for you. It was bought with you in mind, you know." He reached down and smoothed her hair out of her face, where she proceeded to swallow the bit of saliva that was about to spill onto the rug. "Give it." He held out his hand and she lifted her head to drop the handle in his hand. Her spit smeared on his palm, but he simply wiped his hand on her cheek where she grimaced unhappily. That earned her a smirk. "It's present time, kisa," His voice was deep, deeper than usual. He'd been itching to use this for a little while now, seeing when would be best.

In his other hand he showed her, "Do you recognize this?"

Catherine shook her head. It was metal covered in black silicone, a metal jutting out like a tongue, and oddly shaped almost reminding her of those novelty wind up teeth.

"Open." It was a command, which she obediently obeyed. The item was unceremoniously shoved into her mouth and she whined in surprise. It was a gag and the way he'd tightened it, it spread her mouth just a little too much to be comfortable long-term. "There we go. Pretty as a daisy." His hands patted her cheek, rubbing the corner of her mouth just barely against the metal joint that were a centimeter shy of biting into her. "Comfortable?" He asked, but it wasn't the truth he was seeking. She could tell that easily by the way his eyes lit up, looking at her so she nodded.

"Don't drop it," He warned with a pause before continuing. "And Catherine? Consider it a small blessing since we were able to avoid a permanent trip to WRU, hm. " He stood back up, watching as she avoided looking at him again. He could feel his brow twitch when she wouldn't face him. Fine. She could sleep there tonight. Maybe then she’ll learn to act right.

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Truth or Dare- Eddie Munson (1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Characters: Eddie Munson

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 712

Author: Charlotte

You tried your best to not spend too much time with the Hellfire club outside of the actual club. You cared for them all deeply, but they were all knobheads and you had to spend time with them in moderation or you’d lose your mind. For years prior to Hellfire even being a thing, you had been friends with Eddie, so when he focused a lot of his time on his D&D club, you joined. Maybe if you weren’t completely in love with him throughout your whole friendship, you wouldn’t have been stuck with the group of losers playing a game you didn’t care nearly as much about than he did.

They met up somewhat often outside of their normal club meetings, but you made excuses to get out of them, but this weekend you didn’t have one. You were stuck sat on the floor of Gareth’s living room whilst the boys that you deemed on the cusp of graduation and adulthood, giggled like little children, influenced terribly by the newest freshmen members of the group.

“Really?” You sighed. “Truth or dare, aren’t we a little beyond that?”

“It could be fun,” Jeff shrugged.

“Think of the revenge you could get on these losers,” Eddie grinned. “All you’ve done is complain about them for years, now is your chance to make them regret annoying you.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back onto your hands to support yourself.

“Fine, but if this is just some sick joke for you bastards to be perverts, I will not hesitate to kick you in the balls,” you frowned.

The freshmen winced, having learnt quickly that you weren’t to be messed with and the only one of the group that ever got away with anything was Eddie.

They started taking turns forcing each other to tell them something embarrassing or do something stupid and it only made you dread when it would become your turn.

“Y/N,” Dustin grinned. “Truth or dare?”

You didn’t know which would be worse. You knew either way they were going to humiliate you and would quickly regret it when you got to return the favour. Not wanting to end up having to reveal anything intimate about yourself, you decided to pick dare.

Dustin leaned into his fellow freshmen, whispering and laughing as they tried to pick your fate.

“Kiss Eddie.”

It felt as though your heart had leaped up into your throat. You had liked Eddie since you first met, not that you would ever tell him that. You valued your friendship too much to ruin it and knew that if he didn’t return the feeling, he was far too cocky to ever have that information.

“What?” You said in almost a squeak.

“Kiss Eddie,” he repeated.

You glanced over to the dungeon master to see his reaction. He tried to seem confident in his smile, but you knew him too well to not notice the underlying nerves.

“Is that really fair to him?” You asked. “It’s my dare not his.”

“Do you have a problem with kissing him?” Gareth smirked, having been more than aware of you liking your mutual friend, although you vehemently denied it anytime he implied knowing.

“Just his breath,” you huffed, pushing yourself up onto your knees to manoeuvre over to Eddie.

You moved over to him, kneeling in front of him, ready for a moment that you had dreamt of, although you never thought you’d have such a crowd when you finally got to kiss him. You looked down at his soft smile that instantly melted any nerves you held onto.

There was no time like the present. You leaned in pressing your lips to his. His lips were soft but chapped as they parted to move against yours. Your heart pounded against your chest as you rested a hand onto his shoulder to steady yourself. When you moved back to end the kiss, he leaned into your, extending the kiss by a second.

Your eyes stayed locked to his as you parted, not caring about the comments or laughter your friends made. Finally, you got to kiss the man you had been in love with for years and even if you never got to again, you were glad to have experienced it once.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

I am so sorry that it’s taken me THIS DAMN LONG to get around to screaming about this installment, I have been the busiest bee and finding time to completely and accurately express my feelings about it has been difficult BUT! I’ve been thinking about Joel and the sheeps (and a lot more) since you posted it, so please know that this story has joined the pantheon of AUs that live rent free in my head.

And now for all the reasons why that is true:

Ellie and Reader’s reactions to Reader seeing Ellie’s bite scars was really well done. It shows how easily she could have slipped in front of someone she didn’t know or trust, someone who wouldn’t be such a critical and calculating thinker as Reader. The only real danger in Jackson is complacency and becoming too comfortable with safety and forgetting what the world is like outside the walls. Not that Ellie is likely to forget that anytime soon, but had this been with someone other than Reader it could have gone really badly.

But here it just serves to build trust between them. Ellie asking questions and Reader opening up and answering them so transparently says a lot about her character - she's been through tough times, has seen her fair share of hardships both before and after the outbreak, knows about loss, knows about making hard choices... but also knows that it's worth it to keep going because good can come after bad. That's a huge deal, especially for someone like Ellie who struggles with her survivor guilt. Reader is just a really good person and a great influence for her.

Reader putting together that the story of what happened at the hospital and how it doesn't add up with what she knows of medicine and what she's seen of Joel... perfect. She knows something went down and her first instinct isn't anger or contempt or "how could he ruin this chance?!" because she's had run ins with the FFs before so she knows how they operate. She's no friend to those weirdos so she's definitely a friend to Ellie. (And me.)

HER SISTER'S NAME WAS ELLIE. WOW. I got a chill. There's so much power and memory in a name - in hearing it or saying it. Meeting a new person with the same name as someone you knew or loved or got hurt by is always slightly jarring because it's almost impossible not to think of that other person when you hear or say it. But it sounds like Reader has mostly warm, happy memories of her sister, despite how heartbreakingly her life ended. And now she's going to get the chance to make really good warm memories with someone else with that name and I love that for both of them.

Ellie trying to set Joel up with someone will never not be gold to me. Tell 'em, kid. Let that man get all up Reader's ass. It *would* be good for both of them. *smirky face emoji*

A honeybee hive!!!! BRB lemme get my suit I'll take care of it!! (as somewhat of a hobby beekeeper, I love this inclusion.)

OH THE CHEMICAL BURN! IT WAS READER'S IDEA! WHAT A GREAT FUCKING WAY TO USE THAT BIT OF CANON! I just love her she's got a lot of nerve to suggest burning the bite off Ellie's arm without running it by Joel and that makes me love her even more. Yeah she knows Joel is likely not going to be super thrilled but she also knows it's really Ellie's call. It's her arm and her life that's at risk if someone saw the bite. Let grumpypants be pissed, this is about the kid.

Ellie to the rescue when Reader thinks Joel just doesn't like her. No, silly, he can't hear you. That explains so much. I can see the lightbulb going off in Reader's head as she goes through every interaction with him like well shit wouldn't you know it i been chatting up his deaf ear.

Bear can have Missy. I hate her.

Willa though, she's my girl.

BAHAHAHA Joel marching up to Reader's door ready to go apeshit about Ellie's arm only to go all tongue tied when she shows up in a towel. Again, gold.

Tommy and Ellie's relationship makes me so happy. He's the fun uncle and she's the wild niece and they are perfect.

Joel saying he will burn everything to the ground if Reader "hurts" Ellie ever again... sir, yes sir. *shivers in attraction*

Inviting him out to the Roost again and apologizing and stressing that she only had Ellie's best interests (like, you know, survival, the ability to live as normally as possible, the ability to wear a goddamn t-shirt) at heart is a good move. Giving him the callsign Grey Fox is a baller move. *sunglasses smiley face emoji*

she says she needs a home. i'm fine.

I truly love your Ellie. You're nailing her voice. Calling Reader the catch of the day after she hooked her own toe - classic Ellie Livingston.

Oh. Joel's coming with supplies. Okay. Okay. Cool cool cool cool. Act normal.... and OMG HE'S BRINGING HIS GUITAR *hyperventilates*

Joel throwing "ya know we don't have a lot of these antibiotics lying around" line back at Reader is peak grumpy yet concerned Joel Miller.

RECORD SCRATCH!!!! JOEL MILLER'S WRISTS ARE BARE?! NO WATCH?! HE TOOK IT OFF???????? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!!?!?!?! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! wow wow wow wow wow wow wow that's a big move. That's a big comfort move. That's SUPER surprising. I'm... not sure what to do with this information. *wide-eyed emoji*

Joel Miller sleeping in the sunshine in the middle of a clusterfluff of sheep is a balm to my soul. Thank you for providing that which I did not know I needed so desperately.

I'm so sorry it took me 18 years to finally scream about this chapter. As you can see I had A LOT of things to say and I wanted to make sure I was able to say them all because this story is so wonderful and deserving of all the screams. I love the world you're building and the characters you've brought to life and the way they interact with the characters we already know and love. Your version of Jackson is so fleshed out and alive and the Roost is its own entity and I am just so very excited to see what happens next for this bunch.

Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 2: Summer

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)/ Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. Old enough to have been an adult on Outbreak Day. Wyoming born and bred. Sheep farmer, easy-going but confident and self-sufficient. Likes to sing, not a great cook. Childhood friend of Maria. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T for now

Warnings: Hunting and skinning squirrels. Chemical burns to skin. Piercing injury. Joel being a dick in a moment of self-preservation. Ellie's still a swear-mouth. Everybody makes some mistakes.

Summary: You solve a problem for Ellie and Joel really doesn't take it well.

A/N: Set after season 1 and then diverges. Does not acknowledge the existence of further plot/seasons, although I claim the right to steal ideas and bits of cannon from the second game if I want to for plot reasons later.

Listen. I know those warnings up there seem like a bit much, but I promise you all of that is in passing, in service to the plot, and not described in detail. (With the exception Ellie's cussing. That will persist indefinitely.) This is stupid fluffy.

Your gut reaction is to fetch your gun and point it at Ellie’s head.

But the girl is calm.

And the bites are healed.

“Wanna shoot me, don’t you,” she challenges with a mismatched set of cocky mouth and world weary eyes. “This one happened before I met Joel. And this one the day after. This is why he took me to the Fireflies. He told me not to tell anyone. That’s why I freaked out.”

Earlier in the day you’d gone looking for Ellie, hoping to show her the honeybee hive you’d discovered at the edge of the meadow. She’d been bathing in the stream, stripped down to nothing. She’d shrieked when she saw you coming near and you’d laughed and kept your eyes averted, understanding the self-consciousness of teenagers, about to tell her to come and find you when she was done.

And then she roared.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! GO!”

It had been a punch to the heart if not a slap to the face, which you were certain by her tone you would have received had you been close enough.

Saying nothing, and simply obeying her wish, you’d turned and gone back to the Roost. Ellie stayed away so long that her hair was completely dry and her nose was sunburned when she finally joined you.

Every footfall had been an apology on the ladder. And every slow creak along the porch was following an olive branch to the broken down sofa you perched on to keep watch over the north meadow.

Taking a reticent seat beside you, she’d rolled up her sleeve. “I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t want you to see it. It’s kind of a life and death thing.”

“Obviously,” you answer, shellshocked. “Reaction warranted.” Dropping her arm to her lap and reaching up to pull down her cuff, you stop her, holding out a waiting hand. “Can I?”

Suddenly doe-eyed and struck by your acceptance, she nods and lays her forearm in your palm.

There’s instinctual revulsion at first, but it melts to wonder as you get a closer look at the scars. There’s nothing of skin breakage, no mycelium running underneath, nothing reaching for you through holes as there would be if you were having one of your nightmares.

Immunity. Statistically speaking, it had to exist, but she’s the first you’ve ever seen or heard of.

“I wondered why you’d choose to wear long sleeves in this heat. I see now. Joel was smart to tell you to keep it covered. This’ll get you killed faster than infection, that’s for sure.” The tendons in her arm flex involuntarily when you run your fingers over the marks. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to tickle.” She relaxes as you release her. This time she doesn’t move to cover the skin. “Out in the open with Joel, I can imagine why you were bit the second time. How’d you come by it the first time?”

“Messing around with a friend where I wasn’t supposed to.”

Ah. By the pull at her brow and the same laws of statistics, you’d hazard to guess that friend didn’t make it. Probably another kid like her. Tragic.

“I see. And that’s why you were being smuggled. That’s why they wanted you. Well, what did the Fireflies make of you?”

She clearly catches the way you slather contempt onto the name of the terrorist organization, but answers your question. “They wanted to make a cure from my blood. They had me on the operating table but raiders attacked the hospital and killed everyone while I was under. So I guess we missed our chance.”

A quiet minute passes as you watch her tracing her thumb over the scar, lost in thought, brow twisted, recounting the ordeal of that day. Something doesn’t sit right with her about it.

And neither does it sit right with you.

Doctors don’t put a person on an operating table just to draw blood.

And you’ve heard stories of what Joel’s capable of.

You’ve witnessed just how protective he is over this little girl.

Her reverie dissolves when you lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. “While I’m sorry they never got the chance to find the possibilities, I understand enough about research medicine to know that the likelihood of their finding a cure from just one person is almost impossible. So while they might have been able to study your blood, they most likely wouldn’t be able to get enough of it or keep it stable long enough to find any answers.”

“How do you know that?”

Over the next hour as the sun sinks in the sky and she soaks up your history, you tell her about your sister. How you and her and Maria were a tight-knit team growing up, how in love with Maria she was, how you were certain they were going to get married one day.

Then you tell her how Maria went off to law school and your sister got sick, that the cancer was rare and the treatment was long and expensive, so your parents had opted for research to fray some costs and keep the ranch.

In the end, there were no answers, not without more donors of her ilk.

Your parents took a loan against the ranch, knowing full well they would lose it, but everyone agreed it was worth it for whatever time it would buy her.

And then Jakarta fell. And the world went to hell.

A few of the elderly residents of the Jackson basin came to hole up on the ranch and most of Willa’s family and tribal branch moved over from their land to form a protective new family group. It worked for a few years. It was safe. It was a thriving little commune.

And then the Fireflies came.

“There were Fireflies out here too?”

“Oh yeah, they were in every QZ, spreading their lies and chaos through the telegram towers, recruiting poor young suckers wherever they took root and getting them all killed. You tangled with them and I’d say you’re lucky you’re alive.”

Ellie frowns down at her arm again. “What did they do when they came here?”

Another story then. Now you explain with a little less nostalgia how the Fireflies came to use your ranch as a base. Trucks coming and going at all hours. Gunshots in the night. Catching the attention of roving packs of raiders. People got hurt. People died.

There was one day when two Fireflies went out foraging mushrooms with old Ms. Celia. They brought her body back on a makeshift sled. Just keeled over, they said.

Funny how the same thing happened the week before with old Ms. Margie. What a coincidence that it was happening when the food supplies were running low.

But the last blow came when the ranch was attacked by raiders a third time. There was a plan in place to create a distraction, draw their attention away from the ranch. The Fireflies knew your sister was sick and designated she do the job. They put a gun to your head when you protested.

It’s okay, she’d said, I don’t have much left to lose. If I’m going out, at least the people I love will be safe.

It was a shit plan.

A lot of people died that day. Most of them were raiders, thanks to Willa and her tribe. Some of them were Fireflies thanks to you and your shotgun.

“So did you win?”

“No. The barriers were still broken. And the ranch was burned to the ground.”

The evening sky is a mix of purples and gold now, the flocks of birds swooping over the meadow are starting to vie for their meal of mosquitos and gnats with an increasing number of bats. Ellie watches one in particular as it swoops up and over the roof of the Roost.

“What about your parents?”

“They burned with the ranch.”

She nods solemnly, without horror, the attitude of a child that’s seen too much.

“And your sister died too then?”

"She got away at first. Found her in the woods a week later with a bite like yours, but she was long gone by then. One of Willa’s brothers did the shooting.”

Another quiet nod. “What was your sister’s name?” she asks as an evening bird calls.

It was bound to come up.

“Eleanor. We called her Ell. Ellie, when she was little.” When you can see the unearned guilt building in her face you bump her shoulder playfully. “It was almost twenty years ago. I hold onto the good memories. She was sweet and kind to everyone she met, never backsassed our parents, never disobeyed. So basically nothing like you at all.” You laugh when she shoots you an annoyed look. “Not that she was an angel though! She had her fire; you didn’t want to get on her bad side. And she was whip smart. That’s where the two of you meet I think.”

“Sounds like you lost everything at once.”

“I did,” a fact you aknowledge as you stretch and get up, heading back into the cabin to light the lantern. “But Willa helped me through. And then Jackson got its walls up and Maria found her way home and I had family again.” Once the lantern flickers to life, you grab your bag and start pawing through it. “You keep going for family.”

“That’s what Joel says.”

“Huh. You know what? I believe you. Here,” pulling a tank top out of your pack you toss it at her and it smacks her in the face. “While you’re out here you can wear that and not die of heat stroke in those knit tops. But when you’re out in the sun, put something over your shoulders or use the tsuga paste. Your skin hasn’t seen sun in a while and the last thing I need to do is bring you back cooked like a Christmas goose and have Joel all up in my ass about it.”

“That actually sounds like a good thing for both of you, if you ask me.”

“Watch it.”

“What? I didn’t say anything! Look at the time! We should be spinning wool! How I love spinning wool. Whoopee!”

“Like I said. Nothing like my sister. You little shit.”

________

“Meadowlark to patrol.”

“This is patrol.”

“Starling and I are on the southeast side of the meadow near the chokecherry copse and we’ve found a honeybee hive. I’m going to tie red flags to the surrounding trees. You wanna put the word out that some of these cherries are ready to go and get someone suited out here to scope out this hive?”

“This will make four hives now.”

“I know. We’re getting lucky this year.”

“Will do, Meadowlark. We’ll radio in before we cross borders.”

“Copy. Out.”

On the way back to the Roost you and Ellie stop to greet a group of sheep lazing in the grass, sitting down and sharing cherries with them from a basket between the two of you.

“They can eat these?” she asks.

“Sure. They can pretty much eat whatever we do. Chokecherries are fine. Just don’t give ‘em the leaves or stems. Those are poisonous.”

This means taking the time to pull cherries away from the branches until there’s a handful to feed the sheep. Normally you’d be fending them off during this, they’d be insistent and impatient, but the heat of the day has them lazy and languid.

It’s also working on Ellie as she yawns, stretching her white arms plastered in pine and sunflower paste for protection, her scar marring her otherwise unburned forearm.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you hand her another branch to start shucking. “Willa does tattoos. She could cover that for you.”

Ellie hesitates. “Maybe.”

“What. You don’t want a tattoo? I thought you might like that. It would be pretty badass. We could cover it with a starling or something….”

“I guess.” You wait for her excuse. It’s a decent one. “I just…It would mean Willa would know too. Joel told me not to tell anyone. I don’t think I should.”

“I understand. That’s kinda why I suggested Willa. The woman’s a vault.” But Ellie’s fingers stop picking berries, as if she doesn’t know what to do or what to say. “Oh. I see. You don’t want Joel to know you told anyone. Even me.”

She nods.

She changes the subject then–something about him wanting to keep her safe, even teaching her to use a shotgun to protect herself–but your mind keeps working on the problem.

It’s only when you make it back to the ladder at the Roost, one foot frozen on the bottom rung, that you find the answer.

“What’s wrong?” she asks from behind you.

Under the posts of the Roost is a load of firewood. And under that wood….

“Ellie…if there was another way to get rid of your scar, would you?”

“What. You gonna give me some kinda bird tattoo yourself? Is it gonna look like a blob or–”

“I mean, do you want it gone at all?”

She pulls herself out of her slouched position to her full height. “I mean…yeah…I think a tattoo is actually a great idea I just…”

“What if Willa didn’t have to know? What if she thought she was covering up something else?” Pulling a few armfulls of wood away from the side of the pile, you uncover a wide plank of wood, once a handsome cedar coffee table top, now a sunken excuse for a forest cellar door. Prying the wood out of its depression, you reveal an earthen pit housing a couple of shovels, a couple pairs of oilskin mittens, and a covered earthen pot.

“This,” you point to the pot, “is lye. We keep it out here in case one of the sheep dies from infection or illness. It’s important to bury the sheep to keep it away from the flock. But even if you bury a carcass, bear and coyotes will come sniffing around and dig it up. We discourage that with this. Lye breaks down organic matter. That’s why we have gloves in here. It burns skin.”

Ellie frowns into the pit, understanding slowly dawning until she asks with a gasp, “Does it hurt?”

“Hells yes it does. It’s a burn, Ellie. It hurts like a son of a bitch, there’s no way I’d lie about that. But it will twist the features of that scar. You’ll never have to dodge suspicion again.”

“Mother. Fucker,” her whisper shakes, but she eyes the pot in steady fascination.

“You know what?” You throw the tabletop back down over the hole, “I saw a whole lot of squirrels around those chokecherries and they’re actually good eating if you get a few of them and throw ‘em in a pot with some potatoes and onion and garlic…. Too bad their skins are too small to be useful. But we can’t just leave ‘em lying around, you know. So if you and I were to go out and get a few and make a stew, and say I was to show you how the lye works with the leavings… well, something might happen.” The girl looks you dead in the eye, her jaw dropping open a little in disbelief. “What do you say? You wanna go out and do some target practice? Get some squirrel for dinner?”

A switch flips in Ellie’s spine and her eyes spark cold and bright, two supernovas in a smiling galaxy.

“Fuck yes. I’ll get the rifle.”

________

“Good shot!” you cheer as a third squirrel drops from a branch and you share a high five. “Wonder who taught you that! Damn, girl! Three for three. Tonight, we feast.”

“So, when are we doing this?” Ellie smiles as you walk back to the Roost, the barrel of the rifle slung over one shoulder, a string of fuzzy dinner swinging from the other.

“Tomorrow morning. Willa will be coming in at noon and that should give us some time to get a good burn in before she arrives. It should be fine, but if anything goes wrong, she can help and that makes me feel better about it. Ellie…. You sure you trust me with this?”

“I can’t die from it, right?”

“No, but you might want to. It’s sure as hell not gonna be pleasant.”

“Lady, I spent half a year walking across the country with Joel. I’m a master at dealing with unpleasant.” By now the sheep are familiar with the sound of Ellie’s laughter and a few perk up on your way past to follow you lazily back to the Roost. “But, like, I don’t understand why we have to go through all this with the squirrels. Don’t get me wrong, I like the target practice and all…”

You take the squirrels from her and set up a makeshift butcher’s block on a stump left waist high specifically for this purpose. “I don’t want to lie to Joel when he freaks out about you getting hurt. We had squirrels. We disposed of the leavings. You got burned with the lye. Truth truth truth.”

“You think he’ll be mad at you?”

“Oh, I’m already counting that into the equation. I know you seem to think he’s fond of me, but not all the evidence leads up to that. You know how to clean a squirrel?”

“Sure do,” she grins as she trades the rifle for your boot knife and, taking the first rodent in hand, she works it skillfully, tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth, skinning the critter in one go. “Thanks, little buddy. You were cute, but you’ll be gooooooood eating.”

“You’re a hell of a kid.”

“Yeah, well, guess who taught me this?” she says as she morbidly slices through another one, making dramatic death noises as she goes. “Why do you think he doesn’t like you? Joel’s stupid about you. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Jesus, Ellie.” With a sigh and a shake of the head, you indulge her question and your own immature angst. “Well, for starters, I can tell he doesn’t think much of some of my conversation.”

“What do you mean?” Another skin lands at her feet.

“He just…doesn’t answer questions sometimes. Ignores comments. Doesn’t like to join in on the joke.”

“This is a big one,” she grunts, tugging at the final squirrel. “What side are you standing on when he ignores you?”

“Huh?”

“Where are you standing when you talk to Joel? He’s deaf in his right ear.”

You blink.

And suddenly a hell of a lot of things make a hell of a lot of sense.

That one time you complimented his shirt and he said nothing, you were on his right.

That one time you poked fun at his scowl. On his right.

You cracked that joke, offered a piece of pie, told him everything would be alright.

Right. Right. Right.

“I…didn’t know that,” you stammer stupidly, flinching when Ellie hands your knife back and heads for the ladder.

“Yeah, that was obvious. I’m gonna go get a bowl.” You’re still in shock as she starts climbing. “Don’t expect him to get down on one knee when he asks you to marry him; he’s got shitty knees too. He’s happy to complain about it if you ask him. Make sure it’s in his left ear.”

________

“Okay, look at me, Ellie. Breathe.”

She nods, her eyes burning with determination over the shirt you’ve tied around her nose and mouth to protect her from inhaling the mix.

As you sit in the grass a few meters from the stream with her arm resting in your mittened hands, you lay the lye-laden cloth over the scar and enclose it with pressure.

Her breath comes heavily. Bravely. Then you hear it change as the lye begins to work.

“Shit. It itches,” she hisses. “Shit. Shit shit fuck fuck ow it’s getting worse–”

“You want me to stop?”

“No shit fuck I can do this I got this shiiiiiiiiiit!”

“I won’t let you go too long but you let me know if you need–”

“I’m fine! FUCK!”

It’s when she screams that you know it’s enough and releasing her, you order, drill sergeant style, “Go! Go! Go! Fifteen minutes! Don’t look at it!”

Ellie bolts into the ice cold stream, sneakers and all, gasping as the water washes the cloth away from her. “Shit. I thought it would feel better. It doesn’t!”

“Does it feel worse?”

“No, it just fucking burns!”

A sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good. Just… just let it rinse. Do you feel woozy at all?”

She just shakes her head, looking down through the water. “It’s getting red. And puffy.”

“No broken skin?”

“No.”

“Good. It’ll probably blister up some.”

Ellie might not be feeling woozy, but you sure are. Was it a reckless idea? Probably. Will it actually work? Hopefully. Do you feel bad that she’s gonna be in pain for a while? Fuck yes. But then you remember when she put on your tank top and just … laid in the grass and smiled. Even if she never wore short sleeves again, at least nobody was going to make a fast decision with a gun to her skull.

You really should have checked with Joel though. No matter what Ellie wants, you know full well it wasn’t your call to make.

Another problem for another day.

“Everything okay down there?” Willa’s black braids glint in the sun as she walks down from the Roost.

“Ellie had a run in with the lye,” you call back.

“Yeah, I see you were composting. I filled in the hole.” She hardly even stops when she reaches you, simply pulls off her boots and heads straight into the water. “Let’s see. Oh yeah. That’s a burn alright.”

As Willa inspects Ellie’s submerged arm, the girl looks up and smiles at you, giving you a wet thumbs up. “Hurts like a motherfucker!"

“I’ll bet,” the woman hums dryly. “That’s going to swell up and scar pretty bad. Why don’t you sit and let the water do its work. Meadowlark and I will go pack your things and I’ll grab the gauze in the first aid kit.”

Willa doesn’t ask questions as you pack up, just the regular routine of information trade off. You tell her that you’ve marked a few sheep with blue dye to keep an eye on for injuries or dehydration. And she lets you know what’s going on in town, including the fact that there’s gonna be a wedding with a reception at the food hall over the weekend.

“Really? Who?”

“Bear and Missy Tippet.”

“Your uncle??? Willa, I can stay; don’t you wanna be there?”

She laughs. “Hell no I do not. You know exactly how I feel about Missy Tippet; same as you. I’d rather be out here. Perfect timing. They’ve been keeping each other warm on and off for years now. Maybe this will finally keep her on. As much as I hate to picture that,” she shivers.

Willa’s such an even-keeled soul and it’s not just anyone she’ll shit talk in front of. “Well, your secret’s safe with me. If it is a secret that is.”

“What’s a secret?” Ellie interrupts as she pulls herself up to the balcony from the ladder with one hand.

Willa takes a little time to show her the correct way to bandage the burn–not too tight–while you pack the horses, as well as instructing you where to find her stash of willow bark if Ellie needs it for the pain.

But something tells you that Eliie’s gonna tough it out. Though she holds her arm gingerly as she rides, fisting the reigns in her left hand, the girl grins all the way back to Jackson like she’s just pulled off the heist of the century.

________

Jackson is busy when you ride through the gates midday, folks passing by on their way to visit, deliver, build. Purpose in Jackson is taken seriously, as is leisure, and both are on display as you pass by the rustic main drag, in many different ways frozen in time–log storefronts and Mickey Mouse tshirts, leather-saddled livestock and Japanese fans.

You spot Joel waiting at the stables before he sees you, distracted by none other than Missy Tippet. Getting herself married or not, the stunning woman is a glutton for attention and a class A flirt, and she’s not the only one in town whose head turned the minute Joel took up residence.

Not that you can blame her, with him in that tight grey tshirt, busting a carpenter’s arms out of its sleeves and contouring it with sweat…. By the dust on his face, he’s been working today. Probably took a break to wait for–

“Ellie. Hey! You decided to come home.”

“Yup,” she says, throwing him the reins to distract him while she gingerly dismounts. “I shot three squirrels!”

You avoid Joel’s questioning glance as you slide down from your own mare and lead her into a stall. “Go on, you two, I’ll stable up. Nice to see you, Cinnamon Roll.”

But they’re already on their way, an engaged chattering, laughing questions and energetic answers…and your teasing goes unheard. Ah. Wrong ear, you realize.

Missy smirks; condescends.“Cinnamon roll, huh? Good try, I guess.”

You don’t rise to her bait. “Just giving him sass. He’s obviously not a fan. You gonna help me with these saddles or keep slobbering all over the men that aren’t your fiancee what come on by?”

Okay. Maybe a little rising.

________

It’s your ritual, first thing back from the meadow. The Roost holds a special place in your heart, but the one thing it can’t deliver is a shower. Great gods of earth and sky, let there be thanks that warm water’s still a thing, even in summer.

You’re still dripping, one head tilted to the side as you drain the last of the water out one ear, when there’s a knock at the front door downstairs.

Well, let’s see. There aren’t that many people who know you’re back yet and Ellie’s come home with a bandage on her arm. It’s easy to guess who’s knocking. Okay. Let’s get this over with.

When you answer the door wrapped in nothing but a towel, it obviously wasn’t what Joel was expecting, and if he walked over here with any ire, it instantly freezes and shatters like a bubble on the tundra when he takes in all the skin on display.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t invite you in for snacks at the moment.”

Deflated, he simply rams his hands in his pockets, squinting. “You wanna tell me about Ellie’s arm?”

“I had planned on it at a time when I wasn’t wet and naked, but sure.” When he throws his hands up in defeat and turns to leave, you stop him, catching at his sleeve and stretching the fabric so it snaps back against his arm. “Hey. Wait. Yes. I was going to tell you.” As you cross your arms over the towel and lean on the door frame, he does much the same on the other side, averting his eyes and trying not to fidget. And failing. “It happened this morning. She shot some squirrels and we dressed ‘em for dinner last night and buried the bones and pelts. Gotta lye ‘em or animals come digging. I thought she could handle it. Looks like we both got burned, so to speak.” His face is stony. Unamused. You continue. “Willa looked at it this morning, we got it a good rinse. I’m gonna go by her place later and grab some willow bark and show Ellie how to compress.” He shakes his head at his boots. “Hey. She’ll be fine, Joel.”

“I don’t want her getting hurt out there.”

“And I do? It’s a chemical burn, not a clicker bite. She’ll learn from it. Kids can’t be put in glass cages.” It’s here that you pretend not to see the flash in his eye at the mention of bites, meanwhile noticing a bad scrape on his forearm. Seeing your opening, you reach out to draw a finger over it. “Jesus, Joel. Look at this. This. See? We all have occupational hazards. Come on.”

With a sigh you turn and pad into the kitchen to your first aid drawer, taking a chance that pays off--you’re surprised to hear him actually following. It takes a minute to dress the wound and you’re not ginger about it–water, apple cider vinegar, gauze. It’s a quiet minute though, one you thought you could power through, and maybe you could have, if you were in anything more than a towel…or couldn’t hear him breathing…or feel it on your skin. Trying to play it cool and get a vibe check on him, you look up only to catch his eye shifting away from your bare shoulder back to your work on his arm.

It’s time to break the silence, but you don’t feel the need to be on the defense anymore.

“We don’t have a lot of antibiotics just sitting around, you know. Don’t let this stuff fester, okay, cinnamon roll? You and that daredevil kid are a matching pair, you know that?”

He only grunts, half rolling his eyes at you, jaw set, voice at a soft compromise. “Yeah, well, I don’t want her going back out there until she’s healed up. Limited use of both arms is a good path to more accidents.”

“Fair. You win. Summer’s pretty slow anyway. I could use the quiet.” Laying it on thick, you tie up the ends of the gauze before releasing him back into the wilds. “Warm sun, buzz of bees. Sweet smell of grass and lupines. Meadow’s a good place for afternoon naps. Easier to do without an apprentice yapping my ear off.”

He nods thoughtfully at this--your words showing their effect--and slowly turns and heads for the door.

And you smile knowingly as you watch him go.

“You know,” you call out just before he closes the door behind him, “door’s open at the Roost. You can always come out there with her if you’re so concerned. That is, if you don’t mind sleeping on a broke-down sofa on the porch.”

Without looking back, he pauses briefly in the patch of summer glare. Then he silently steps out and pulls the door shut, leaving only the click of the latch and the sunlight through the leaded glass.

Well. That certainly could have gone much worse.

________

At least you’re wearing more clothes when it finally does go worse.

“What happened here, squirt?” Tommy taps his fork on Ellie’s bandage at family dinner.

And Ellie answers with a light jab to his arm. “Ow, you dick! That hurts!”

“Ellie–” a scold in stereo from both you and Joel.

As her teacher, the admonishment was instinctual. But in current context, it may have been a breach of place. The table goes silent as Joel’s head snaps in your direction and everyone else’s eyes bounce between you two, utterly amused. There’s a moment when you’re afraid he might just continue to glare, but then he cracks half a smile, shakes his head, and goes back to shoveling a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth.

It’s a reaction that lets you know Joel’s forgiven you, back to allowing you to be a rearing force in Ellie’s life.

“Meadowlark let me do some target practice and I shot some squirrels for dinner. Had to bury the skin and bones with lye and I got burned. Oops.”

“Oh my god,” Maria chews. “Are you okay?”

Ellie gives her a precocious smile and follows it with sarcastic condescension. “Yes, I’m going to live. As long as some people let it heal and stop hitting me with sharp things because they think they’re funny and they’re not.”

Tommy sticks his tongue out at Ellie and Maria laughs at them both before getting up to go fetch another jar of pickles from the pantry, holding her growing belly and waving off her husband's attempts to help.

“Rabbit’s better eating,” Tommy points out, returning to the subject at hand.

Ellie pops a stringbean into her mouth, clearly in a good mood. “But their hides are useful. Don’t have to bury them.”

The moment after she says this is like a lightning flash, and your reaction matches hers as you both freeze, realizing what she’s just accidentally said.

“Squirrels are faster, smaller, better target practice,” you say, clearing your throat, trying to act casual.

Tommy shrugs and nods, agreeing, oblivious, going to town on his ear of corn.

But Joel’s gone still, staring you down across the table, then casts a glance at Ellie…and her arm.

Shit.

Tommy and Maria are blissfully unaware of Joel’s turn for the quiet during the rest of the meal, not that he’d been very talkative to begin with. But the hesitant glances and shy smiles are gone now, replaced with a restrained patience and a few calculating glances.

It’s Maria’s turn to wash and Tommy’s to dry and yours to clear the table. But with every trip into the kitchen, you glance through the window over the sink into the yard where Joel and Ellie are having a spirited conversation under the tree at the far end.

'Spirited conversation' might be too polite a term. More like a one-sided lecture. Soon enough you have the table wiped down and you’re making a bee-line out the back door while Tommy and Maria argue about the best technique for drying a glass.

“That is not okay,” Joel hisses, trying to keep his voice low, giving Ellie’s shoulder a rough shake. “What if something went wrong? Huh? You could have burned down to the bone!”

“Joel, Joel, hey,” you whisper as you come to complete the triad. “Don’t. She confided in me. It was my idea.”

Nostrils flaring, lips pressed together, head wagging, he glares. “Of all the reckless, stupid….”

“I wanted to!” Ellie pleads, and you shut her down.

“That’s true, but Joel’s right and I knew it. I shouldn’t have–”

“If you tell anyone–” he warns, his eyes going full retribution against you--a hot coil ready to spring--and it petrifies you, takes you by the heart and squeezes.

“She won’t! Joel!”

“She’d better not.”

It’s a tense moment, one that surprises you. Scares you. In the months you’ve known him, Joel’s been a quiet and withdrawn creature, opening up in increments as you’ve done your best to build your trust, taming him slowly week after week, hoping for nothing more than having him someday eating out of your palm, pushing his cheek into your hand for gentle reassurance…

But in one fell swoop you’re back at the starting line–beyond the starting line. The papa bear in him is showing, bearing its teeth, and you’ve spent too much time among sheep, forgetting the valuable lesson that wild animals can never truly be tamed.

“I will burn this place to the ground if you ever hurt another hair on her head.” The quiet threat is feral and stinging and steals your breath before it’s over.

The things he’s capable of...those things are here and now and he could do them all to you before you had the chance to run.

The way he looks at you pulls the heat from the earth.

Before you can break from your paralysis, they’re gone, Joel pushing Ellie out of the yard toward home.

The stars are coming out. If there are crickets, you don’t hear them. Every sense seems to have shifted into neutral. Except breathing. That comes back with a hunger.

“Joel and Ellie take off?” Tommy calls from the window.

“Yeahhhh,” you call back without turning. “Tired. The heat. Think I might head home too.”

“Take a jar of these pickles. We have too many and Maria can't stomach them right now. I’ve got pickles coming out my damn ears.”

“Okay. Thanks, T. Pickles. Will do."

________

The following few days are...confusing. You should go out and grab some supplies on the main street, but actually fear running into Joel or Ellie. It’s stupid, and it makes you angry; it’s not that you’re afraid of him, it’s just…

You’re disappointed in yourself. Because everything’s upset now. Sure, you wanted to get close to them, but you overstepped, put Ellie in danger, made Joel feel unsafe. Everyone should feel safe in Jackson. Everyone should feel safe in the meadow. And you took that away from him.

Joel.

Why him? What about him do you need to have so badly? Why do you feel the need to fix him? To give him that safety?

Because Joel and Ellie so badly need a home. And you have an excess of home within you.

And little else.

You’ve never been lonely before. Why now?

Something about them….just fits.

Or so you thought. Or may have thought. Before you ruined it.

It’s better to just sit home and knit. Winter will be here soon enough and people need sweaters, dammit. You have a job to do.

But you can’t stay hidden away forever, especially not when there’s a wedding in the community.

________

“Bear, Missy, you’ve said your vows in front of all of us here tonight. We are all witness to your commitment. All in agreement, say aye!”

“AYE!”

“And those of you who want to spoil this good time, say nay!”

Bear’s brother pipes up from the side of the mess hall. “Nay!”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Bear laughs.

“Perfection is tempting devils!” his brother teases.

“Let ‘em come,” Bear shouts. “I’ll tear ‘em all down for my lady love, the prettiest girl in Jackson!” There’s applause and laughter as he kisses his new bride and the mood shifts as he roars, “Drinking and dancing!!!”

“Ugh. Good thing Willa isn’t here to see this. She’d be so annoyed.” Maria yells in your ear over the din as you huddle around your favorite table at the back of the hall. “I thought Missy would never settle down.”

“Bear must earn his name in the sack,” you crack back at her, and she clinks her glass against yours in agreement.

Tommy and Joel sit across the table from you, facing away toward the front. But when Tommy turns to join in the conversation, Joel remains facing out to the crowd, watching as tables are pushed to the side to make a dance floor, quietly pulling sips from a frothy cider.

He’s still pissed at you.

“Where’s Ellie?” you ask Tommy, not even attempting to address the wall of Joel-shaped ice.

“Over beyond, with the other big kids.”

You don’t turn to look, but Joel does after hearing the comment, before turning back to watch the crowd.

A band strikes up. Friends stop by and chat. Some of Tommy and Joel’s work friends come and take over the table–the boys all getting loud and rowdy–so you and Maria escape to the edge of the dance floor, beverages in hand, dancing–but not really–in place.

“What’s going on?” Maria finally asks over the music and the general glee.

“Hmm?”

“You two keep watching each other, but you’re not talking. What’s going on.”

You can’t keep from glancing over at the table…again. You weren’t aware of him taking any interest in you though.

“We had an argument the other day. I think I fucked things up.”

She pulls a face, comically surprised. “I would have guessed the other way around, but okay. You push him too hard or something?”

“Something like that.”

Glancing back over her shoulder at Joel and then back at you, Maria gives you her lawyer face. “He’ll come around. Tommy says he’s the last person to apologize for anything and if he does, you know it means a big deal. But if you’re willing to extend the olive branch first, that can go a long way.”

“Well, maybe not tonight,” you sigh, stealing a glance, watching as he drains his glass. “He’s had a few.”

But you can’t even convince yourself, handing your drink to Maria as Joel sets down his glass, slaps the table and pushes himself up, leaning forward to wish his buddies a good night. You follow him out of the mess hall like some lovestruck teenager strung out on a last hope.

“Joel. Joel!” Catching up with him halfway down the block, the light and noise from the party still follows as you get out in front of him. “Joel, stop. I have to apologize to you. Please let me.”

Though he’s backlit, you can still make out his tired glare. “Don’t. It’s not necessary.”

“Of course it is. Ellie’s important to you. You're her guardian. It wasn’t my call to make. I’m sorry.”

He waits a moment before throwing you an irritated prompt. “But?”

“But? I don’t know. She was hot in that long sleeve shirt and she showed me her arm–I can’t imagine what she went through. I just felt for her. But I did have a gut reaction when she showed me, Joel. Anyone would, but most wouldn’t hesitate for long. And those bites could get her killed. All I wanted was for her to be free from that. To be a kid. I’d say I wasn’t thinking, but...I was, Joel. Fuck was I thinking. I was thinking about her just being a kid and not getting killed.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I guess. Except… I really don’t want you to punish her for my decision. She loves it out there. She thrives. And if you don’t trust me, my offer stands. Come with us. See for yourself.”

A huffed laugh. “Yeah? Do I get a callsign then?”

Your fatal flaw is jumping to the joke and the playful tease too soon, as you do now, anticipating his forgiveness. “Of course you do, grey fox.”

And that’s when he reaches out, pulls you close with strong hands.

Which would be exhilarating, if it wasn’t too close. And if his breath didn’t smell of cider.

“Why don’t you just take what you want,” he growls, quietly, coldly, jaw set, lips hardly moving.

It’s not fear that pings up your spine–now that you’ve had a taste of his anger and gotten over the initial shock from the other night, you know Joel won’t hurt you, not here, not as part of your found family, he knows better–

It’s bitter disappointment.

“What?”

His grip tightens, digs in. “It’s obvious what you want. Just go ahead. We’re both fucking lonely enough and I’m too old for games.”

He’s right here with you in the dark, his breath on your lips, your fingers twisting into the shoulders of his tshirt…but it’s wrong. It’s so wrong. And it’s hurting.

So you slowly push off his chest.

And the light from the mess hall hits your face again; something there causes his shoulders to drop, causes him to let you go.

A cheer rises up from the celebration that you’ve left behind, that you don’t feel like returning to, but neither can you be alone right now, so it’s likely your only choice.

“I’m not playing games, Joel. I never was. I like you. A lot. Both you and Ellie. I just didn’t want to spook you. But...I also don’t want someone who doesn’t want me. So…maybe I read you wrong. Or maybe we need different things.”

“What do you need?” It almost falls out of him, uncontrolled, unemotional, a gathering of facts.

And your answer comes the same way, surprising you as you’re sure his own question surprised himself.

“A home.”

It’s a quiet night, perfectly warm. You’re sure if you went home right now, the fireflies–the good kind–would be out in the back yard.

Instead, you give him a shellshocked nod–of finality, of punctuation–and follow your feet back toward the light, toward happiness and love that you can’t share at the moment. And you don’t look back.

________

When you don’t show up for family dinner that week, Maria comes knocking the next day.

Knocks, yes, but does not wait for an answer. In sisterly fashion, she makes straight for your wool room and sits calmly on the edge on the daybed there, staring at you as you mend a hole in a sweater.

“Missed you at our table last night.”

“I know.”

It doesn’t matter how hard she stares, you continue to avoid it and concentrate on the work in your hands.

“That was an invitation for you to explain.”

“I’m aware.”

“Girl–”

“I’m not getting along with Joel right now. Ellie has…this thing on her arm that she doesn’t want anyone to know about. You notice how she would wear long sleeves even in the heat? I felt bad for her. So I… suggested…the lye.”

This doesn't faze her. “It was on purpose. And Joel found out. I see.” Leaning back into the pillows with a pregnant grunt, she swings her feet up onto the daybed. “Is hiding helping? You know we all know where you live, right?”

“Are you really putting your muddy shoes on my quilt?”

“So you’re just going to avoid him.”

You squint at the binding. “I’m gonna have to raid the commissary for some better glasses. My eyesight’s getting out of hand.”

“You’re going to avoid us. Me and Tommy and Ellie.”

Letting out a huge sigh, you concede to her tenacity because she won’t stop until she gets what she wants. “For now.” When her tongue clicks, you finally look up. “Listen. I apologized and he’s still mad. I agree with you that he’ll get over it, but he hasn’t yet, and that means I haven’t either. And I’m not as good at turning on my bitch face as that one is.”

“So we shouldn’t expect you next week either.”

“Nope,” you pout, tackling the sweater again with focused frustration. “I traded with Goldie. Going out a week early.”

“You’re running away.”

“I’m stressed out and I need to not be here, yes!” You admit, throwing down the knitting. “What is the big deal? I don’t have to get along with everyone in Jackson! You don’t!”

You understand that flat look from her, known it since you were kids. She’s counting to 10, giving you the chance to calm down so one of you can speak the truth and speak it calmly.

“But you want to get along with Joel.”

Of course she was going to say that. Because it’s what you’re thinking and not wanting to say out loud and she can read you like a book.

“Yeah. I really do. You know I do.”

“Okay,” she says, pushing herself up with effort and crossing the room to kiss her fingers and press–nay, slap–them to your forehead before heading out. “Go on and go to your happy place. Go calm down in your little clubhouse. I was just worried about you is all. Brought you leftovers. They’re on the counter.”

“Thanks. You’re too good to me. As always. Love you.”

“I know. As always. Love you too.”

________

At the end of the week you’re up early, your pack and rations slung over your back, pistol on one hip, making your way to the stables while the town’s still quiet, before anyone can notice you going. Your boots crunch on the dirt road in lieu of the birdsong from those lazy bitches not even up yet, the dawnlight casting Jackson in blues and blacks, like a new-world mid-era Picasso.

The problem is, you know all of these blues and blacks, all these shapes and shadows. There’s a new one this morning, something leaning up against the stable door.

And it’s shaped like a fourteen year old girl with a couple of bags.

As you approach, Ellie tips away from the wall, standing upright, waiting until you come to a stop in front of her.

“Joel said I could go with you.”

“It’s a week early.”

“Yep.”

It’s too early in the morning for exasperated sighs, but here you are. “Maria or Tommy?”

“Tommy.”

“Figures. Big fucking mouth.”

“Yep.”

She waits patiently for it to sink in.

Once it does, you pull the walkie off your belt.

“Meadowlark to Chickadee. ETA 30, towing a Starling in behind me.”

________

“So what did you say to him to get him to change his mind?” Ellie takes your fishing rod so you can pull off your boots and roll up your pants.

“Me? I figured it was you said something.” Wading out into the stream at this little ripple point is harder than it looks. The rocks are sharper here, full of crannys that are equally as good for fish to hide in as they are to turn an ankle. It doesn’t help that the setting sun is throwing shadows that make it harder to determine what’s what. “I haven’t talked to him in weeks. Not since Bear’s wedding. Keep that line taut.”

“According to Maria, you haven’t talked to anyone lately.”

“I had knitting to do,” a dismissal as you follow the line out into the current. “There are hardly any weeds out here; what did this dang hook snag on? A rock?”

“Well, he finally admitted that masking the scar was a good thing. I told him I want to get a tattoo over it. He said no.”

You laugh, tugging at the line, teetering on a flatter stone. “Of course he did. But that’s a good thing. Tattoo’s a permanent mark. Good to have an excuse to think long and hard about what you’d want. Willa’s great with nature stuff. She could probably do you a bird or a tree or something.”

“I was thinking maybe the moon. Or like, a machete.”

“Of course you were. Oh, oh... hang on, I think I’ve found it.” Reaching down under one of the rocks, you follow the fishing line, but it doesn’t seem to have an end. “Well, where the hell?”

“Uhhhhh,” Ellie points to the water at your feet. “I think it found you.”

A fine red ribbon of blood floats away on the current and you follow it upstream to your foot. More specifically, the inner part of your big toe. “Well shit. Did I just catch my own damn self?”

“Catch of the day!” Ellie laughs. “I bet you fry up real tough. Does it hurt?”

“Didn’t even feel it, water’s too cold. Get your knife and cut the line so I don’t get all tangled.”

Once you’re back on shore and take stock, it’s obvious some tools are needed. “Run and get me the wire cutting pliers, the vinegar jug, and the first aid kit, will you?”

Ellie’s off like a shot on youthful legs, making short work of the errand while you keep your foot in the stream and tend to her line. But once she’s back and opens the kit, her face twists into a frown. “Aren’t there supposed to be bandages in here?”

“What?” Snipping the hook in two you slide it out the easy way as Ellie watches in morbid fascination. “There’s not?”

“Nope. Plenty of cleanser and some needle and thread, but no bandages.”

“Shit. I suppose we never restocked it after Willa set you up. Well, I’ll just have to bleed into my sock for the time being and find something up at the Roost.” Ellie moves to help you, but you hold a hand up and go for the walkie. “Hey. Meadowlark to Goldie.”

The walkie comes to life, garbled, full of noise.

“Goldie? Meadowlark to Goldfinch.”

A couple of seconds pass. “Sorry, Goldfinch here. Was in the tavern and there’s an arm wrestling competition in there. Lots of yelling.”

“Really? Who’s winning?”

“Right now it’s Bear. What’s up?”

“Oh, I never restocked the first aid kit after Ellie’s mishap and we’re needing clean bandages. Can you send some along on patrol tomorrow?”

“Sure. Everything alright out there?”

“Yeah, I just stepped on a fishhook.”

“Well, why the hell did you do that?”

“You know, the usual. Shits and giggles.”

“You do you. Don’t ever change. I’ll send some supplies along.”

“Thanks. Put a wager down on Bear for me. Meadowlark out.”

“Will do. Goldfinch gone.”

“Alright, kid,” you groan, hanging onto her shoulder and pulling yourself up, “Bring in your line and let’s take what we got and get a supper going.”

________

The next day, you drop a few old carrots over the balcony railing. “Ellie! Take these with you! You’ll tame that skittish one sooner or later; keep trying!”

The girl scoops up the veggies and trudges out through the pasture, heavy not with the task of doing the rounds by herself but due to the heat. At least she can wear short sleeves now, even if the bandage gets questions. But you suspect she enjoys the clout and attention she gets out of the burn.

Thank goodness she’s here. Your injury gets angry when you walk. So Ellie's tasked with the rounds and taking stock while you elevate the foot and get caught up on some spinning.

Not that there’s any hurry to do so. As you lean on your arms against the balcony railing a little breeze kicks up. Content for the moment, you let it bring you a little coolness, a little movement, the rising and falling music of this year’s batch of cicadas. The meadow's pretty this summer, all purples and reds, festooned with lupine and Indian paintbrush and the air at the Roost smelling like the pines that grow around it.

“Patrol to Meadowlark.”

Damn. You left the walkie on the table inside. Guess the decision’s been made for you to get your ass moving. That’ll be a delivery coming in and you hobble on over to answer.

"Patrol here. You there, Meadowlark?"

“Sorry. Meadowlark here.”

“Sending Joel Miller in with supplies at the north gate.”

That’s…not what you expected. But…wow. Really? Has your heart stopped, or is it just going really fast?

“Put him on the walkie.”

Who cares what you’re heart’s doing, your face is gonna cramp from the smile.

“Hey. It’s me,” he answers, gentle, penitent.

“Me who.”

“Joel.”

So he's olive branching first. Well, he'll have to earn it.

“Yeah, about that, we have procedures around here. Callsign or bust, sir.”

You can almost hear his eyes rolling, but it sounds like he’s up for the challenge.

“Seriously.”

“Sure.”

“Jesus. This is…Grey Fox. Coming in at the north gate. Happy?”

“I will be. Meadowlark out.”

Tottering gingerly back out to the balcony, you land heavily on the old green broke-down sofa. There’s no need to bring the rifle. Even if he was being pursued by a pack of raging clickers, Joel is certain to carry a gun, and certain to use it confidently.

A few slow minutes tick by in the sun and a cicada buzzes in from nowhere to attach itself to one of the balcony supports. The big bug breathes for a minute, its iridescent wings still twitching with the effort of hoisting that bulky little body.

And then, in your eyeline just past the cicada, there’s movement.

Joel coming out of the north woods.

He’s on foot. Green plaid and jeans wading through the flowered fields. With his shirtsleeves rolled up on purpose to let those brown arms and big hands of his swing. With not just the one, but two rifles on his back? Isn’t that a bit overkill?

Wait. One of them’s not a rifle. It’s…a guitar.

Well. Someone’s planned to make himself at home.

Your smile earns more real estate.

Good.

Soon he’s close enough for you to make out his grey curls shifting in the breeze. Then he disappears under the Roost, only to transform into the sound of heavy footfalls on the ladder.

Propping your chin on your forearms crossed over the back of the sofa, you watch through the front windows as he steps into the room and takes it in with a carpenter’s eye. He stops in silent appreciation, gaze scrolling the woodwork, the joints, posts, slope of the peak. The woodstove catches his notice and he taps the tile beneath it with his boot, his interest trailing up the pipe, squinting at the trap around the exhaust. His bottom lip pushes up in approval and he nods, surveying the windows now…and stops when he sees you.

“Hey there, Cinnamon Roll. Welcome to the Roost.”

A half-hidden smile. Without a word, he untangles himself out of his gear, digging through his knapsack and retrieving a box before coming out onto the balcony and making his way over to you. Swiping a hand through the air, he motions for you to move your knee so he can sit beside you, then pulls your foot up into his lap and takes a look over your makeshift bandage–the sleeve of an old blouse–before starting to unwrap it.

It hurts. But you let him.

“Where’s Ellie?”

“She’s making the rounds. Just left before you came in.”

He grunts an acknowledgement, focusing on your toe, moving it so he can assess the wound a little better. A little wince; he can tell it hurts. Grabbing a tiny bottle of cleansing agent and a fresh bandage, he gets to work.

“Just so you know,” he grumbles, “we don’t have a lot of antibiotics just sitting around. You shouldn’t let this stuff fester.”

He must see your smirk from the corner of his eye. He matches it with his own.

“You using my words against me now, Dr. Miller?”

“Not at all. Just passing on some valuable knowledge that was gifted to me.”

He works quietly, carefully wrapping the toe, then your foot, splinting it in a way that should make it easier to walk on. Obviously not the first time he’s cared for a wound. He must have seen a lot out there in his wilder days.

“This one was truly an accident. For real this time,” you attest.

But his smile burns off to the stone underneath.

His sincerity precedes him. “I’m sorry.”

An apology. From Joel Miller. For what? Not trusting you? Keeping Ellie away? Speaking to you the way he did? You assume it’s all of the above. But it isn’t necessary to ask for clarification; you only want to put the missteps behind you and get on with leaning on each other.

“You’re staying, right?”

He nods once to you, then to the sofa. “This where I’m sleeping?”

“I mean, if you want one of our beds, that’s fine, you’ll just have to fight us for it. In which case, you might as well give up now.”

“No, it’s okay. It’ll be like sleeping under the stars.” He stares out at the mountains over the meadow, watching the shadow of a cloud roll over it, your foot warm between his hands, a thumb absently rubbing at the bandage. “This is nice out here. Quiet. I’m not used to it. But it’s good.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit I do better with some wide open spaces. And fewer people to share it with.”

Two lines form above the bridge of his nose. “Ellie told me about your ranch. Your family. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t worth being sorry.”

He's got you there. “Everyone’s lost something. Someone. Several someones. The whole world’s a little sorry. But I appreciate it. It means we’re all in it together, those of us left." You make a study of him, his solemn nod, the way the sun glints off his watch. “I’m glad you took me up on my invitation, Joel. It’ll be nice having you here, being out here together.”

And then he turns to you, making his own study of you, as if watching your clouds roll away too.

“I agree.”

________

“Now, the E7 is the same as the E, you just pick up that third finger. Good. Now let’s do a three-four, E7, A, E.”

As the sun starts to set, your eyes have had enough of the spindle for one day and you’re cleaning up while Joel and Ellie muck around with his guitar out on the balcony. She’s a quick study, even if some of the chords are more difficult than others for her small hands, and it’s obvious he’s been working with her on it for a while.

Using a walking stick that Joel made from a pine branch–stripping the bark and wrapping one end with duct tape for a sliverless handle–you put together a little plate of berries and cheese, sling a thermos full of sun tea under your arm, and head out to the balcony.

“That's it. Thumb, wrist, wrist,” Joel coaches Ellie in a waltz strum as you hand off the treats to him and take a spot at the railing for one last survey of the meadow before the twilight goes. “That’s good. Keep that up, just like that. Hey there, songbird,” he drawls at you, “you know any Hank Williams?”

Rather than turn to him with a smile, you give it to the meadow, but let him hear it in your voice. “Do I? My dad grew up in Montana in the 50s and 60s. What do you think I was raised on?”

“Well go on then. You should know this one.”

Now that you’re truly listening and realize the chords he’s been working her through, you certainly do.

Ellie must have told him how you like to sing out here. So you do.

“Hear that lonesome whippoorwill, He sounds too blue to fly. The midnight train is whining low, I'm so lonesome I could cry.”

Joel encourages Ellie to keep going, and to add a B7 in at the end. “Go on,” he prompts to you when you turn around, smiling blithely as his two girls make him a pretty song to listen to.

“I've never seen a night so long When time goes crawling by. The moon just went behind the clouds To hide its face and cry.

“Did you ever see a robin weep When leaves begin to die? That means he's lost the will to live; I'm so lonesome I could cry.”

“The next verse is the last one, so play her out on some single rising notes and hit the final chord.”

Ellie bites her bottom lip and nods, taking the cue, but she doesn’t need to look at her hands anymore as she’s getting the hang of it, and instead smiles as you take on her favorite subject.

“The silence of a falling star Lights up a purple sky, And as I wonder where you are… I'm so lonesome I could cry.”

Her outro could use a little work, but it suffices and you give her due applause. “How are those fingers doing?”

She takes stock of her hands. “Look. Calluses.”

“You’ve got some work to do before you can call those welts calluses,” Joel teases.

“Well, I think she’s earned a treat. I didn’t bring those out here for you to hoard ‘em.”

Ellie balances the guitar against the arm rest and Joel hands over the plate, stealing a cherry and popping it into his mouth. Bringing her feet up, Ellie rests the plate on her knees and settles against Joel’s shoulder, smiling, content, proud of her progress, eating her reward and watching the night come on.

It’s such an intimate father-daughter scene that you’re about to go indoors and let them enjoy the view together. But then Joel moves his foot slightly as if to block your path. Catches your eye. Drapes his free arm over the back of the sofa and glances pointedly at his free shoulder, then back at you with a jerk of his head as if to say, You too, get in here, this one’s yours.

You do not have to be told twice.

Settling in with a long sigh, you don’t pay much attention as Ellie starts recounting everything she knows and doesn’t know about the first moon landing. You’re more interested in the way your cheek fits into Joel’s shoulder, and how his arm lays heavy and warm over yours, how his chest rumbles when he answers Ellie’s questions and laughs at her sass. How the shadows spill over the butte and pull through everything until they are everything.

And you notice how the moonlight reflects off the plate in Ellie’s hand, off the tuning keys of the guitar…and yet…it’s missing in one place it should be.

Joel’s wrists are bare.

Joel is laughing. And his wrists are bare.

________

Picking up his watch where it’s been living on the little table all week, you pack it into Joel’s knapsack on the last morning before heading out.

“Goldie’ll be here soon. You see Joel come back from the rounds yet?”

Ellie shakes her head as she’s packing her bag. “Nope. Went out an hour or two ago. You want me to go get him?”

Taking his bag and your own to the balcony, you throw them over the side to the forest floor below. “I’ll go. Been on my ass all week. I could use the walk.” You hand her the walkie on the way out, trusting her to take the incoming hail.

Fastest way to find someone on rounds is to walk the opposite direction, so you head south to the stream.

You don’t have to go far.

A group of sheep have gathered in the grass halfway between the Roost and the water, lazing peacefully as if gathered for a little tea party, and you can guess what they’re all discussing.

There, in the middle of their protective huddle, is the man you’ve been waiting for all this time; shoes off, one arm slung above his head, asleep in the sun and the warm, fragrant grass, as if he grabbed your description of the meadow and ran with it, needing the nap of a lifetime.

At first you keep your distance, not wanting to startle him. But then you realize that it might take more than your approach and a couple soft bleats from a lamb to wake him.

Especially with his good ear turned to the ground like that.

Safe. Warm. Content.

Goldie will be coming soon, but you’ll be able to see her from here. No need to wake him yet.

There’s time enough to just sit and shade his face from the sun, watch the steady rise and fall of his hand on his belly, and whisper a little prayer of thanks to the earth and wind and sky–hell, even to the sheep–that Joel and Ellie found their way to Jackson.

And that you found your way to them.

Good. Everyone's got a good reason to keep going then.

________

Lyrics from "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" by Hank Williams

PREVIOUS: SPRING

NEXT: AUTUMN (coming soon)

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

(artwork by @stealyourblorbos)

[wordsofapanda]

The other day my ex and I ran into each other and had closure. He knew my parents were out of town and was weirdly super protective. He’s always been super protective; I think it is because of an incident that happened to his mom once and since then he’s just super protective of me because I remind him of his mom. I live in a decent neighborhood where all of my neighbors have each others numbers and backs, I have an alarm system and friends who know I am alone and have offered to come over if something suspicious happens. Truthfully I was like eh I’ll be fine, until this one weird dude knocks on my door saying he thought my Christmas tree was on fire and he was just “checking up” on me. He said he was driving by my house and saw smoke so he wanted to see if I was okay. I told my ex because it was just WEIRD. And my ex’s reaction was pretty much overprotective. The whole smoke comment is throwing me off because it’s super rainy and gloomy at the moment and the smoke would’ve just blended into the background/sky. But for some reason that interaction with that stranger felt so off putting that I had to tell my ex. My ex moved back into the area and I don’t reach out to him for help or anything but it’s nice to know I have someone within 2 miles I can call. My ex may be a dick but one consistent thing about him is that he is and will always be super protective of me and my cat. Since I’m so kind, he thinks of me as someone who needs to be protected like I’m a damn cinnamon roll stereotype. I’ve always been independent but any time someone is mean to me he’s quick to send me off and rip that person a new one. One time I asked some dude at Halal Guys for no tomato and he gave me the nastiest look because he had to scoop the tomato back into the bin. I don’t like confrontations so internally I’m like “well fuck me specifically then?”. My ex took once look at me, told me to go to the car, and then ripped this little dude into pieces for being a dick to me. My ex may be a shithead but he’s usually quick to throw hands for me. To be fair though, he came from an area that is literally in a fuck ton of rap songs because of how dangerous it was. It made me realize how quickly other people are ready to throw hands for me because I’m nice. Hot guy has offered to come over anytime something scary happens. My cousin doesn’t even need to be told to throw hands, she just DOES. I don’t need to be protected but it’s nice to be surrounded by people who will protect me. Especially because I feel like I am an incredibly loyal ride or die friend.

[fandangotales]

Head empty just

Sagau but readers cellphone now has infinite battery for some reason and theyre on tiktok and watching genshin edits until one of the acolytes sees and gets curious so reader shows everyone the edits made for then

Zhongli: why am i........geo grandpa

Xiao: morax isn't my father

Yae: what is an........Eiussy and why do these humans want it so bad

Venti: (trying to force scara to have anemo vision after seeing the sad scaramouche edits) BUT THE EDITS, YOUR BACKSTORY IS SCREAMING AIR BOY!!!

Scara: GET THE FUCK OFF ME!!!!

WHOOO MY FIRST REQUEST ASK!!!

anyways-

When I tell you that a phone in TEYVAT would be absolute chaos… I mean it.

I can 99% guarantee you that Albedo has asked to experiment on what he refers to as Their Grace’s “strange device.”

(Please keep your phone away from him, as it will not make it out of his lab intact.)

Other acolytes who aren’t as curious about HOW and WHY it works may find interest on seeing you use your device to watch videos.

The people of Teyvat aren’t familiar with advanced technology, so I’d assume it’s fair to say that they would treat your phone as a Divine Object, comparable to the Anemo Archon’s Holy Lyre.

Since you are The Creator, it would be valued a lot more.

Nobody, not even one of the Archons, is allowed to touch such a holy object. Such a thing would be viewed as incredibly disrespectful. How could any of them, lowly acolytes, have the audacity to come into contact with your beloved “phone”?

Now, assuming that the reader can still watch Tik Toks, of course they would like to share some of them with certain characters, because why not?

Also, why wouldn’t you let them in on some of the jokes that are popular in the Genshin Fandom?

If Zhongli knew that he was referred to as “Geo Grandpa” I think his reaction would be one of initial shock.

“What does the title ‘Geo Grandpa’ indicate, Divine One?”

After a little explanation from you, I think he’d catch on. He is aware of his age, after all.

Others may think that the title “Grandpa” is offensive towards a former archon of all things, but he doesn’t mind as long as you are the one saying it. The term “Grandpa” is often used between mortals in a family, so does this mean that you considered him as family?

Whenever you call him by that name, you can expect to see a soft smile across his features.

When Xiao discovered that the fandom considers his relationship with Morax to be one of father and son, he was speechless for a good minute.

You gave him a look, trying to suppress your laughter.

“So…? You’re not denying it.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Morax is not my father.”

You wheezed, clearly amused by his flustered expression. Xiao was avoiding your gaze, clearly trying his best to convince you that he did not see the older man as a father figure.

The term “Eiussy” was completely unknown to the Lady Guuji… until she joined you in watching the short films know as “Tik Toks” on the magical screen of the divine “phone”

Now, Yae Miko is quite clever, so it was only natural that she would grasp the concept of what “Eiussy” meant.

She watched a few videos which featured similar titles, such as “Tartussy”, “Scarussy”, and “Kokussy”. All of them played a key role in her eventual understanding of just what exactly “Eiussy” meant.

The very moment she learns the true meaning, I can guarantee you that she will casually bring it up in conversation.

“Your Grace, you would be welcome at Watatsumi Island anytime!” Gorou beams, waving goodbye to you from the docks of Ritou.

The Watatsumi ship had finally arrived, after a lengthy delay following your business meeting with the Inazuman Officials.

“Thank you, Gorou.” You started to say… but the ever famed doggy general had already boarded the ship, and was out of your sight.

“Hmm…” a recognizable voice trailed, as her hand lightly touched your shoulder. Miko gave you a knowing look. “I guess he wanted to get some of that Divineussy”

Your expression remained blank.

“Perfect use of that title.” You praised, staring after the ship, as it departed into the sunset.

If and when Venti saw all of the sad Scaramouche edits… let’s just say that you’d have to physically restrain him.

Restrain him from making his way over to the Balladeer as soon as possible, that is.

Scaramouche would just be doing Fatui work, maybe trying to convince the recruits that the stars are indeed a lie…

And… bam.

A random ass bard pops up out of nowhere.

“Good day! Would you be interested in gaining an anemo vision?”

“What the fuck.”

[thelostgetfound-artemis]

Let's talk Body Language aka: Cake Sharing Eiw

The thing that kills me from episode 10 is not only the extremely obvious jealousy from Cake but the proprietary way he acted around Eiw in front of other people. Especially when he felt like his place was threatened.

Eiw was always avoiding Cake in high school so they very rarely did skinship in front of other people. When they did it was made obvious by the surrounding characters reactions. But now Eiw is comfortable in himself and around others, clearly Cake had decided touching Eiw is fair game.

No.1 aka: The One We Saw Coming (thanks episode 10 preview)

The arm Cake put around his shoulder when they were leaving, Cake pulling him in closer and acting as a sheild between the two as they walked away. He made sure he gave Tal absolutely no way to have a physical interaction with Eiw as they left. Stunning work Cake, very casually done.

No.2 aka The Obvious Intercept

Fixing Eiws hair earlier during the photoshoot? Cake stepping in so Tal wouldn't do it was blatant already, but then he goes the extra mile holding Eiws neck? His body language is both possesive for the people watching, and to Eiw specifically it's saying 'only look at me'.

Eiws obliviousness makes this so much better, he really has no idea of the interaction happening between the other two men because he doesn't expect those kind of intentions from Cake

No.3 aka The Unexpected Rival

The last one makes me laugh because the competitor for Eiws attention in this scene is...Cakes own sister?

Now bare with me here, this one is long but I didn't realise just how much nuance there was to it until I started writing.

The body language of the three sitting watching the movie makes Cakes annoyance obvious.

Cream is on the far side with her legs crossed and sitting very casually while talking to Eiw, while Eiw is sitting in the middle, his feet are pointed forwards so initially he's equal between them but his knees often lean towards Cream as they talk through the movie. This imbalance between the siblings is accentuated even more when they film the close ups on Cake: even though Eiw is in the middle, he looks a lot further away because the rest of his body is leaning away from Cake.

Cakes body language on the other hand is the opposite. He has his knee up with his arm resting on it, but the side of his body facing Eiw is relaxed and open instead of closed off, this creates the space for Eiw to lean into him through the movie (and is very reminiscent of how Cake lays with his chest/arms open towards Eiw anytime they sleep together). The added appearance of a pillow in Cakes lap makes it pretty evident with his body language he was most likely expecting cuddle time during this film. And his sister is ruining it.

Cue arguing. When Cake argues in a playful way he's always smiling, you can tell he's teasing. This scene the laughing of Eiw in between them and the bg music creates a fun vibe but Cakes face is serious and he's very persistent when telling her to leave. Cake is annoyed.

Through the argument Cream gets closer and closer to Eiw while leaning over to argue with her brother and more than once Cake actually pushes her away. It's pretty lowkey, only using a finger and a little jab to her shoulder but you can see in the corner of the frame Cake looks at the proximity between Eiw and Cream before he actually decides to get physical in shooing her away.

When the method of verbally and physically trying to get her to leave doesn't work, Cake is instantly aware of the next tool he can use.

Creams phone. The second Cream gets a text she shifts away, no longer leaning against Eiw and for the first time in the scene, stops talking to him too. Aka: what Cake has been trying to achieve this entire time.

And he clocks that change immediately.

Let me tell you as a younger sister my brother didn't have an interest in what I was doing unless it either served him or could get me in trouble. Cakes mission to get Cream to leave is suddenly very achievable.

I knew from the preview jealous Cake was going to be good but damn, I didn't think he'd be so obvious.

[overnightheartbeats]

She walked over to the sidewalk, taking a moment to clip her hair back as he removed his jacket and fetched his shades from the glove compartment. Laurel had previously told him that the shades suited him, and as a gentle reminder, she offered a whistle at the sight. Hyping her best friend up was what she did best after all. Laurel frowned at his observation of her apartment's tiles, but it didn't last too long. Her frown tainted with a sparkle in her eyes. "Hey hey, my tiles aren't that bad." Sure, maybe they were a bit outdated and weird and...okay yeah, they do suck. Defeat was in front of her, so her next best solution was to playfully stick her tongue out at him. "I'm going to begin charging you rent, so you can have free rein of my apartment's decor. But, fine fine. Let' s go get these tiles. I'm leaving you in charge of switching them out."

The more they talked about their friendship thus far, the more obvious it became to her - just how attached she had become to him. Of course, she knew to some extent, but Laurel never gave it more thought. It just all felt natural to her, but listing things off really put things into perspective. "Well, your room is nicer than mine. Okay. You are right, one bathroom cabinet in exchange for an undergarments drawer seems fair. If you had a roommate, they'd hate me for crashing at your place so much without paying rent. I'd let the roommate believe that though, that you were getting it every night." She shrugged at her own words, it wouldn't bother her either way. Though, Laurel couldn't be more glad that they both lived alone, no roommates to worry about or hear complaints about. "Hm, maybe so. We just have the benefit of knowing each other for a long time. Life is short, we're just making the most of our time together. but HR may eventually pull us to the side to tell us to chill, we may need to switch from yelling across the floor to desk notes. I only went on a tangent once!" Or was it three? "I wasn't trying to interrupt the flirting, all I said was that red must be her favorite color, with the amount of red flags she collected. I mean, you heard what she did to Connor. He requested a transfer to San Diego. That's probably why they discourage agents from getting together, doesn't look like it ever ends well. But, okay fair enough - we don't make it easy to distinguish. I'm okay with that."

It hadn't occurred to her yet, but this was the longest that Laurel had thought about kids. Anytime her dad asked, what's next for her, she only shrugged. The traditional life plan (marriage, kids, white picket fence) didn't really appeal to her, especially after seeing how her own family ended up. Talking about hypotheticals was good enough. There was his smirk again, she couldn't help the smile that followed. Involuntary reactions and what not, she only hoped it wouldn't make her nervous like it usually did. "Everyone has brown eyes, not as fun. So yup, it's your green eyes and okay yeah, my hair. This hypothetical kid is super cute, we could even throw in dimples. Earth 24 probably has a very rich babysitter or two then. It sounds like anything's possible on that Earth, but then I'd have to share you with a bunch of kids, your parents, and god knows who else." Laurel knew that the parent topic was iffy, and that there was nothing she could really say to change the pain his past brought. She did know two things, however. One, his parents had missed out on the wonderful person he became. And two, their circumstances led them both to Texas, so despite the pain, she was grateful he was led here to her. There was slight confusion in her features, but already, her curiosity was growing - eager to know what idea he had just come up with. "You know I'm always up for a fun risk, what are you thinking about this time?

He got out of the car and stretched his legs. Giving them a quick shake before he took off his jacket and set it on the seat. It was not even noon and Texas was already blazing. He leaned down to grab his shades from the compartment he kept them in in her car. Again, add it to the number of things that would be considered dating. Leaving shit in cars. "We need to go to the kitchen section. I think the bathroom needs more tiles. Your old ones suck and look like a grandma's shack." Was he an interior designer? No but that didn't stop him from giving out his opinions. To be honest he did live there more than he did at his own place so if anyone had a say it might as well be him.

Continuing their earlier conversation he laughed and nodded his head. "See. We are even. You share your bathroom cabinets and I share my room. You know I never do that. You also got your undergarments drawer at my place. Which let me tell you if I had a roommate they'd think I was getting it every night." He shrugged and thought about it. "Maybe we don't make it easy. We are closer than most best friends and co workers. Think about it. We arrive together, we leave together, we work together at the desk, at functions we stick to each other and when people try to flirt the other goes on their tangent. All that would give them pause to think we were dating. Plus I scream i love you have a good day each time you leave to the second floor."

She had given this kids some thought it seemed which made him smirk. He knew she hated when he'd smirk like that. It was his knowing smirk that would get her so nervous and that was funny. "Mm okay. So you'd want our hypothetical kid to have my eyes. I get it they are pretty in the sun but why not your pretty brown eyes? They're clear like they were hazel. For sure they'd have your wavy hair. God, yeah Earth 24 me would totally have a bunch of kids. Maybe with two parents who wanted me too so they'd have loving grandparents." By now he had gotten used to being the unlovable one that got left behind but it didn't mean it still didn't hurt. As they made their way inside the doors he put his arm around her shoulders to pull her in and walked in step with her as he checked out the kid room on their left. Getting a bright idea he motioned to the door and asked; "How much of a risk taker are you today?"

[luanna801]

Live Renfield Reaction - 5/25

(Note: I owe the idea for these posts to @animate-mush twice over. First of all because the whole idea came from their suggestion that Renfield knows about the details of Jack’s life because he’s overheard Jack recording his diary, which made me immediately want to write out how he might have reacted in real time. And secondly because of course because the concept is borrowed from their brilliant Live Mina Reactions to Jonathan’s journal.

Be warned, my Renfield is a lot less apt to make heart-eyes at his subject, and a lot more inclined to be sarcastic and introspective by turns. Language is blatantly anachronistic in places because we’re going for the ~vibe~ of what Renfield would have been thinking and not necessarily the exact words he would have used, and also I’ve made the executive decision that Renfield should be allowed to say “fuck”.)

Ebb tide in appetite to-day. Cannot eat, cannot rest, so diary instead.

Oof. Tough day there, doc?

I might be more sympathetic if you hadn't decided to make it everyone else's problem.

Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing....

Ahhh, I see. Got rejected? So the enchanting Miss Lucy wasn't won by the prospect of a man with an immense lunatic asylum. I guess that means she won't be joining us here anytime soon.

How strange to sit in a place like this and listen to him sigh over girl trouble. It's at times like this I remember we're all under the care of a man young enough to be my son. That part of my life seems so endlessly long ago.

As I knew that the only cure for this sort of thing was work, I went down amongst the patients. I picked out one who has afforded me a study of much interest.

Is he talking about me???

I'd prefer not to be talked about like a trinket you picked out at a flea market, if so.

He is so quaint-

QUAINT??? QUAINT?????

-that I am determined to understand him as well as I can.

HA. Good luck with that.

To-day I seemed to get nearer than ever before to the heart of his mystery.

Did you? Or did you just ask me an endless barrage of questions designed to show off how smart you are?

I questioned him more fully than I had ever done, with a view to making myself master of the facts of his hallucination.

Kid, I don't even think I'm master of the facts of my hallucination.

In my manner of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty.

GLAD TO KNOW YOU NOTICED IT TOO

I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness—a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell.

How thoughtful. Why do I get to be your oh-so-special exception, exactly?

(Mem., under what circumstances would I not avoid the pit of hell?)

Do you know, I've asked myself that question too?

Omnia Romæ venalia sunt. Hell has its price! verb. sap.

Ooh, nice Latin! Slightly misquoted, but I can't say I disagree. We do all have our price.

And if it's pretentious Latin quotes you want, I can play that game too: Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.*

[*A quote from Virgil's Aeneid, loosely translated as "If I cannot move heaven, I will raise hell."]

If there be anything behind this instinct it will be valuable to trace it afterwards accurately, so I had better commence to do so, therefore—

R. M. Renfield, ætat 59.—

Ohhhhh, this should be INTERESTING.

Sanguine temperament;

Yeah, fair enough.

great physical strength;

Yes. 😉

morbidly excitable;

Also true.

periods of gloom, ending in some fixed idea which I cannot make out.

So much for getting ~nearer to the heart of my mystery~.

I presume that the sanguine temperament itself and the disturbing influence end in a mentally-accomplished finish;

Genuinely, I have no idea what the fuck you just said.

a possibly dangerous man,

😈

probably dangerous if unselfish. In selfish men caution is as secure an armour for their foes as for themselves.

That's a very interesting idea!

I guess I'm honest enough to admit I'm selfish more often than not. If I did consume the life around me and add it to my own, would that be the ultimate selfishness? Or is it justified for the greater cause?

Maybe the true selfishness is that I don't really care. I only know that I must do it; nothing else matters.

Then again, maybe all you can do is look to your own interests, when you're shut away from the world. Amuse yourself as best you can, and survive another day.

Which category would the good doctor put himself in, I wonder? Selflessly laboring on behalf of us poor lunatics? Or selfishly using us for your own prestige?

And is the one more dangerous than the other? What might he do in the name of "helping"?

How dangerous is your unselfishness, Doctor Seward?

What I think of on this point is, when self is the fixed point the centripetal force is balanced with the centrifugal; when duty, a cause, etc., is the fixed point, the latter force is paramount, and only accident or a series of accidents can balance it.

Do you listen to yourself when you talk???