#angst out the wazoo

[the-sunhold-coven]

So I have it where my Mc is going after Alarik...which is questionable lol. But Mc can't help it 😅. But I love playing a shy Mc and also how protective he is with them. But i also hope we get to question ourself on falling for them and get to talk about it. Bc I just imagine them questioning it bc of everything and what not.

But I hope we get to see more of the ros point of views. Especially once they start crushing on our witch. 😊

Also sorry for the long ramble and everything lol. But do keep up the good work and make sure you take care of yourself. 🥂

There is nothing to apologize for. While I was reading I was sitting here like 🥰

I fully support your MC's questionable choices! Alarik is incredibly protective as a person, although misguided at times *ahem* Witch hunter *ahem*.

I don't want to spoil too much but you shouldn't worry, I have so much angst planned for that route. You'll be able to have an existential crisis later on in the romance, or even more than one if you feel extra angsty.

[tickletastic]

Fear Toxin, Love, and Other Sh*tty Drugs

Fandom: DC

Ship: JayRoy

Warnings: canon typical violence, panic attacks (sort of- after effects of fear toxin?)

Summary: Jason and Roy have a rough night out on patrol in Gotham, nothing goes as planned, and an Arkham breakout is just the cherry on top. (not a whole lot of tickling, i got carried away, cross posted to my AO3 bc I planned a second, non-tickly chapter)

The streets of Gotham had not been kind last night.

The previous night started just as expected, a crime syndicate carelessly offloading giant tin shipping containers of the world’s most dangerous weapons, a plan in the works for them to leave them in crime alley, to leave them with the most desperate people in the city and watch Gotham crumble. It was a kid that had tipped Jason off, just some kid with a shitbag dad who thought Jason could save them, thought Jason could save anyone. Jason found out the rest from some of his undercover contacts, who sounded nearly afraid when discussing the kinds of weapons that would soon reach Gotham’s streets. 

Jason was now waiting, impatient and annoyed, on the corner of a tall building, waiting for the right time to jump into action. The building used to have some mom and pop restaurant on the main floor, one that Jason would frequent after long nights of patrol, when he couldn’t drag his body any further. Apartments were above, but they had been condemned at some point after the restaurant closed down. Now, Jason has a safehouse set up in one of the old rooms, and, though he’d never admit it, he uses Wayne funds to stock the old restaurant with frozen pizzas, chips, mac n cheese, and other snacks for the kids that wander by, hoping that they’ll find food somewhere like this. 

Roy is at his back, eating greasy chips from a tupperware container. Jason had insisted that Roy didn’t need a patrol snack, but, after caving in, he made sure, at least, that the snack wouldn’t be so loud. If it weren’t for Roy, Jason would’ve lunged into the action by now, not caring if the syndicate dealt him a broken leg or a dislocated jaw while he took down enough of them to get the weapons somewhere far from here. Roy had always been the patient one, and he manages to keep Jason’s irritability at a low by talking about some book he wanted to read.

The crimes are cresting, the final load now on Gotham’s dock, a sound of trucks in the distance. Now would be the best time, Roy can see every opportunity laid out in front of him, but then Oracle’s voice is ringing out over the comms, panicked and urgent, announcing that tonight, some random fucking night that was just supposed to involve stopping petty robberies and killing a syndicate boss, was the seemingly biannual Arkham breakout. 

Roy and Jason are caught in a heated, whispered debate, Jason thinking they should strike before some goofy D list villain can come interrupt them, but Roy thinks it’s too unpredictable now, that they should return the following week, when Jason knows the syndicate planned to do inventory of their new stash. Jason stands up, Roy grabbing him by the leg of his pants, just as Oracle makes another announcement, the silence between Roy and Jason so tense that it could be broken in half. Roy’s heart started to beat faster, his palms suddenly sweaty where he gripped his bow, the world around them suddenly a cacophony of noise. In spite of the precautions, the two-foot thick concrete walls, and the fucking manual entry external lock system for the cell, he had gotten out too. 

Jason tensed, but otherwise showed no emotion towards the situation– no reaction to the fact that the man who killed him is roaming the same Gotham streets that he is. It was always like this when it came to the Joker, Jason always tensed up and pushed people away, claiming he’s okay until the second he’s not.

Bruce had a protocol for this exact situation– Jason would be moved to Star City, or JL Tower, or Central City, or even the Amazons– just as far as Bruce could get him as quickly as possible. Then, Tim would find Bruce, Duke, or Steph, and stick to them like glue. Damian was expected to find Dick and stick by his side, but that was more of a formality of the plan, since Damian was usually glued to Dick’s side on patrol anyways.

Jason had never been aware of the plan, too stubborn to ever leave in the face of danger, too eager to throw himself back into fear. Sometimes, Wally would come, taking Jason back to Dick’s apartment in Bludhaven despite Jason’s displeasure and squirming. Sometimes, it would be Diana, or “Aunt Di,” as the Robins had always called her, and Jason couldn’t help but agree to whatever she asked, still awestruck by her presence. One, it was even Hal and Barry, Barry gushing about having gone back in time and seeing a Shakespeare play at the Globe. Usually, though, it was Roy calling Jason, coaxing him back to Star City by faking some non-emergent emergency or begging for Jason to help Lian with a spelling test. Usually it was Roy, but Roy was in Gotham tonight. Roy was in Gotham and he would have to physically pry Jason from the roof to get him to give up the sting he had been planning, and there would be nothing that would convince him that his life, his sanity, might be more important for the time being. 

Nothing except for Oracle’s frantic voice, followed by Nightwing’s– Red Robin hasn’t reported, and nobody’s seen him for at least half an hour, caught up in the noise of the Arkham breakout. They have no clue where he is, and, before Oracle can formulate a plan, or even examine the situation with his non-functioning tracker, Jason is hastily grappling from building to building, searching the database in his helmet for a list of every abandoned warehouse in Gotham. 

The communications system is entirely silent, creeping on as each of the bats scramble to understand where Red Robin would have gone, how they had managed to lose track of him for so long. Roy gives panting, out-of-breath updates periodically, telling of the buildings Jason has checked, falling behind as Jason throws himself from rooftop to rooftop. 

Oracle’s gasp rings out over the speakers, hollow and practically shouting, “we have CCTV! The car manufacturing place on the East Side, the corner of 2nd and Church– Hood is the closest!”

“No!” Bruce shouts over the comms, the worried ebb in his voice coming out more like Bruce than Batman, “Signal and I are not much further, we’re on our way.” 

“Absolutely not, 30 minutes is more than enough time for the clown. I’m not letting another fucking Robin die tonight,” Jason grits, hauling ass towards the building as soon as he can see it, the car company’s logo practically decaying, peeling off the building’s facade. 

“Arsenal, do not let Red Hood enter,” Bruce grits over the line, a hardened command, before his voice softens, “please, don’t let him go in.”

Bruce sounds the most scared Roy has ever heard him, and Roy is terrified. He’s desperately trying to keep up with Jason, throwing himself recklessly over the edges of roofs and down rusty fire escapes, but the distance keeps growing. 

“Jay, I can’t keep up,” Roy shouts, a desperate tone, almost a plea, “Jason Peter Todd, you better not go in without me, you better fuckin’ not.”

“It’s him or me,” Jason grunts, “it’s him or me, and I’m not letting him kill another fucking kid.” 

Jason disappears from Roy’s vision, dropping from the sky, and Roy curses, desperately trying to catch up. When he finally drops from the roofs himself, Jason isn’t there, and the door to the warehouse is wide open, dented where a heavy boot kicked it in. Roy rushes in, zeroing in on the direction of the noises he’s hearing– loud clanging and snotty begging– but there’s another door in the way, another door between him, Jason, Tim, and the monster.

“Fuck- fuck! Jason, let me in!” He screams, throwing his body against the door, desperately trying to make a dent as he bangs and kicks and yells. Over the comms, his own voice, shaky and desperate, shouts to the bats, “he’s in there! He’s fucking in there and I can’t get in, I don’t know what’s happening!”

Roy isn’t calm enough to hear any of the responses, breathing heavily, fighting the encroaching panic. He takes one of his explosive arrows, backing up until he thinks he’ll be able to take the door off its hinges with his shot. He lines it up, shaking in spite of all the practice he’s had, all the years he’s spent protecting himself, protecting Jason. There’s a thick thud heard from the other side of the door, and a staticky buzzing playing out in the building, and Roy sees plumes of smoke seep out from the door’s cracks, he hears maniacal laughter announcing itself, the sound of metal dragging on concrete. 

“Jason, if you can hear me, tell me if there’s someone on the other side of this door,” Roy tries to sound commanding, supportive, but his voice is betraying him, hoarse as he shouts, “Jason, I’m going to blow this thing to shreds, I need you to fucking answer me!”

There’s crashing on the other side of the door, noises that sound pained, gasps and shouts and pleas. Roy starts screaming Jason’s name again and again, desperately hoping he has clearance to blow the door to pieces. He finally backs up, aiming again at the rusted, bolted door, when it swings open, Roy hearing the voice over his comms and in person simultaneously. 

“We’ve got them,” Nightwing announces, and he emerges with Tim over his shoulder, gas masks on both of their faces. Despite the masks, Tim looks less than conscious, slack where he hangs over his older brother’s shoulder.

“Where the fuck is Jason?” Roy asks, shaky and scared, caught somewhere between vomiting or hyperventilating, “please, Dick, please don’t tell me-”

Bruce emerges, the sweat on his face visible between the cowl and his own air mask, one arm under Jason’s knees and the other under his back. Unlike Tim, Jason’s eyes are wide open, frantic, while he shakes violently in Bruce’s grip, muttering horrified under his breath. 

“Why isn’t he wearing a mask? Dick, why isn’t Jason wearing a mask?” Roy shouts, hysterical, “Jason, Jace, are you okay? What the fuck happened?”

When Roy approaches, Jason flinches away with a piercing scream, fighting desperately to get out of Bruce’s grip, seemingly terrified. 

“It was fear toxin, Arsenal,” Bruce responds with a grunt, working hard to keep Jason in his grasp, “Jason was given a direct dose, the mask wouldn’t have helped.”

“What the fuck will help? He looks terrified, what is he seeing? What did that fucker do to him? Where the fuck is he?”

Dick takes a second to turn around, having begun making his way to the front door, “Arsenal, the Joker’s dead.”

Roy just gapes, obediently following Bruce and Dick out the door, hoping to god that the bat won’t use this as another opportunity to ice Jason out, hoping the bats have some hidden remedy to Jason’s current paranoia.

The Batmobile awaits them outside when they get out, the Gotham streets feeling quieter than they had when Roy entered, his heart beating in his ears. The Batmobile is small on the best of days, but Roy ends up taking Damian back to the docks and equipping him with enough padding for a skydiving mission, strapping him securely to the back of Jason’s motorcycle before climbing on. Jason would never forgive him if he left the bike in crime alley anyways, knowing a bit too much about crime alley kids and their penchant for stealing expensive tires.

By the time the two are back at the manor, Tim and Jason are in separate medical rooms, Tim out cold, hooked up to machines galore, and Jason fighting with everything left in him to escape the room. He still has the same terrified look in his eyes, and he’s begging, over and over, not to die, crying for help as if he’s back in Ethiopia. 

Roy can hear Bruce trying to shush him, saying comforting, paternal things in Jason’s ear in spite of the physical force he’s using to keep Jason in the room. “You’re not there, Jay. You’re home, you’re with your dad.”

In spite of the comfort, Jason keeps thrashing, tears freely streaming down his face. Roy looks on from outside for a moment, scared that he’ll make it all worse for Jason if he tries to intervene. 

Roy visibly jumps when a voice sounds from next to him, turning to see Dick, discowled but otherwise still in his costume, his brow furrowed, “we gave him the antidote, but it’s going to take a couple hours. The Joker gave him three times what Scarecrow would have, and strapped the mask to his face so he’d have to breathe it all in.”

“Fuck,” Roy sighs, rubbing over his face with one of his hands, “there’s nothing we can do until then? We can’t just let him go through this.”

Dick sighs, mirroring Roy’s tense expression, “Bruce is trying, I’ve tried, you can give it a shot? Maybe you’ll be able to remind him he’s older than he was back then, that might break the illusion, at least a little bit.”

“Okay, yeah,” Roy says, dropping his hands to his sides, “yeah, I’ll try.”

Dick gives him a reassuring pat on the back before entering the room, dropping his voice to say something hushed to Bruce. Bruce nods, turning to glance at Roy, exhaustion written all over his face. He motions for Roy to enter, and, once he’s sure Roy could hold his own, exits with Dick. 

“Hey, Jay,” Roy says, just above a whisper, “Jay, it’s Roy.” 

Jason is silent now, entire body shaking violently, entire face painted with terror. He’s got a thousand yard stare, seemingly aware that someone is in the room, but looking past Roy. 

“I’m going to come closer, Jason,” Roy announces, stepping towards Jason as if he were some scared animal, because, in some way, he is.

Roy is afraid to touch Jason, afraid that it would trigger him to fight off whatever the hallucinations are making Roy look like. What does he do when Lian’s scared? How does he get her back to sleep when she thinks there’s something lurking in the darkness of the bedroom?

Roy tries to touch Jason as little as possible, maneuvering him so he’s at least close to the edge of the bed. He then rounds the bed to the other side, dropping the weird hospital handle softly so it doesn’t block his way, lying down on one side. He laughs a bit to himself under his breath, trying to shed the shyness from the possibility that one of the other nosy bats could walk in at any time. 

Softly, just loud enough to break the room’s silence, Roy starts to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart, melodic and sweet, like he would sing to Lian when she got scared and crawled between him and Jason in their bed. Roy gets through three quarters of the song before he notices Jason’s shoulders are no longer tensed, that he’s leaning against the bed voluntarily.

Just as Roy is about to start his lullaby rendition of Faithfully, Jason slumps, turning his head. His face is still covered in nervous sweat, and Roy still gets a sense that Jason is not really seeing him, but Jason tries for a hoarse whisper, “R-roy?”

Roy reaches out carefully, easing Jason so his back is on the bed, so he can maneuver them so Roy is holding him, Jason’s head listening to Roy’s heartbeat. “It’s me, Jaybird. Just close your eyes, it’ll all be over soon.” 

Roy feels the spot Jason occupies on his chest getting damp, and starts to run a hand up and down Jason’s back. “I c-can’t stop seeing him. He’s here, he’s g-going to kill me.”

Roy shakes his head, though Jason doesn’t see it, “he can’t hurt you, Jay. He’s gone, and I’d never let him.”

Roy is not entirely sure if Jason believes him, not sure if Jason even knows where he is, but he keeps singing until Jason is shaking a little less, until his breathing has evened out and the spot on his shirt starts to dry. 

When Jason wakes up the next morning, feeling like he has the worst hangover of his life, he coughs hard and long until he’s being manhandled upright, a glass brought to his lips. Dick is helping him drink before passing him a handful of pills. Jason has no clue what any of them are, just that he’ll swallow all of them dry if it means he won’t have to deal with the headache and the nausea anymore. Instead, he feels almost instant drowsiness, and he falls asleep yet again. 

The next time he wakes up, the pain is mostly gone, though there’s something foggy in how he’s perceiving everything around him. He hoists himself up so that he can see the entire room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sitting with his legs open on the floor, facing the bed, is Roy, reading Jason’s well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. 

“Didn’t know you knew how to read,” Jason tries to joke, but his voice doesn’t work the way he wanted it to, coming out garbled and hoarse. “What the fuck happened to me?”

Roy looks up, a soft smile on his lips when he sees how different Jason is from last night, “you don’t remember?” 

“Ran into a warehouse,” Jason shrugs.

“And after that?”

“Not a lick.”

To Jason, Roy has a weird glint in his eye, a slight strain in his brow, “I honestly think that’s for the best, Jaybird.” 

Jason rolls his eyes, sore as he picks himself up from the bed. He goes to where Roy is sitting and plops himself in between his boyfriend’s legs, his back to Roy’s chest. “You know, it’s pretty fucked up not to tell me what I experienced first-hand.”

It's Roy’s turn, now, to roll his eyes. He sighs, putting Jason’s book off to the side and hugging Jason tight, his chin on Jason’s shoulder, “it was fear toxin. Fear toxin, you, Tim, and the Joker.”

“Fuck,” Jason sighs, “of fucking course it was.”

“You’re fine, Tim’s fine, everything is alright,” Roy says, running soft fingers through Jason’s hair, curly and unruly from his sleep. 

Jason turns his head to the side, making quick, anxious eye contact with Roy, “I think I’ll take your word for it.” 

“You better.” Roy has a mischievous smile on his face, one that Jason can’t see, but he senses the shift in tone, feels Roy’s fingers migrating down to his tummy. He’d rather huff fear toxin for a second, even third time than admit it, but sometimes, when he feels the fear thrumming in his veins, feels like if he’s not touching Roy then he’ll disappear, that he’ll be underground at 15 again, he yearns for Roy’s soft fingers, his teasing touch that ebbs all the fear from Jason’s system. 

When the fingers start to move, Jason doesn’t even try to hold back, giggling freely into the sleeve of the old Gotham Academy hoodie he’d been put into sometime last night. Roy’s fingers tickle in teasing circles around his belly button, clawing at the skin. 

“C’mon,” Roy says, his voice dripping with the sickeningly sweet softness he always showed Jason at times like this, times when Jason would just accept it rather than prickling away from it, “I want to hear you.”

Jason blushes a light pink, his face heating up, but he moves his hands from his face in favour of lightly grasping Roy’s wrists. “Yohou’re a dick!”

“Oh am I?” Roy’s voice rumbles in Jason’s ear and Jason squeaks, throwing his head back. Roy is grinning so hard it almost hurts, and he kisses the top of Jason’s forehead. Jason scrunches his nose, shaking his head back and forth. 

Roy leaves soft kisses down Jason’s neck, his hands moving up to draw soft shapes over Jason’s sides. Jason’s giggles are bubbly and uninhibited, letting Roy explore. He starts to squirm when Roy’s fingers nearly reach his ribs, scratching just below and eliciting a snort and an embarrassed whine. 

Jason leaves his neck wide open, and Roy takes the opportunity to give him a raspberry, Jason kicking his legs out with a squeal, on the verge of real laughter. Roy makes sure his fingers stay just soft enough, his lips just teasing enough, to have Jason giggling himself silly, happily leaning in to the redhead.  

Roy’s fingers slow a bit, wanting Jason to hear everything he’s about to whisper, “you don’t even know how fuckin’ glad I am that you’re alright.”

Jason’s blush grows hotter, feeling another wave of shyness creeping up. He moves his head to give Roy a kiss on the cheek, his boyfriend’s blush almost matching his, just to even the playing field and all. “I’m soho glad you’re hehere.”

Roy smiles before leaning in for a proper kiss, his fingers just barely grazing over Jason’s sensitive spots. When they both pull away, breathless and awestruck, they’re wearing matching goofy grins, Jason still giggling under his breath. 

Jason spots his book again and uses the very tips of his fingers to pull it close enough for him to pick up. He places it into one of Roy’s hands, smiling mischievously at Roy’s confusion. “Nohow read to mehe, asshole!”

[kaeyas-beloved]

omg... no sympathy november where every day in november i post the most heart-wrenching genshin angst i can think of and enjoy everyone's cries of sorrow as i drink their tears... >:)

[squirrelno2]

love poking through my documents like. "wow all these fic ideas slap, these scenes I wrote are great, I should finish and publish some of these!" and then. proceeding to not do that.

[therealraewest]

@aphemorpha that is actually what's happening in the scene. City of the Dead just be like that.

"My Son, I bestow unto you: a fuckin Glock"

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part three

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant

WC: 12.4K

A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.

Series Masterlist

He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.

So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.

But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.

That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.

"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.

"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."

He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.

"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.

"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"

Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.

"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."

He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.

"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.

"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.

He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.

His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.

"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.

"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."

"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.

"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"

"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.

You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.

"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.

His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.

"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.

You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.

"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.

"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.

You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.

Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.

Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta

Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut

You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.

"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.

"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.

"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.

"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.

"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.

"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.

"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.

"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.

"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.

He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.

But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.

"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"

He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.

"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.

"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.

"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.

You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.

Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?

He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.

"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.

"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.

"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.

"Should be fun," you said.

"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.

"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.

"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"

"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.

"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.

"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.

"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.

"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"

Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.

"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.

"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.

"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.

"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.

"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."

Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.

"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"

"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."

"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.

"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."

"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.

"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.

Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.

You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.

After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.

Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.

You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.

You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.

You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?

You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.

Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??

You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.

Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess

Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.

Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.

Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.

Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.

You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap

With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.

You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.

Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.

Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.

"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.

"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.

"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.

"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.

Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."

Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.

"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.

"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.

You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.

Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.

"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.

"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.

"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.

"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.

"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.

"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.

"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.

"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.

"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.

"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.

"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.

"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.

"Do you love her?"

Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.

"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.

"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.

"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.

He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.

"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.

Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.

"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.

"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."

You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.

Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.

"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.

A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.

"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.

"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"

"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."

"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.

"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.

"You heard her," he said with a grin.

"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.

"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.

"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.

"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.

But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.

"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"

"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.

"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.

You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.

Joel Miller: Miss you already.

"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.

When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.

"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"

You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.

"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"

"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."

"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."

You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.

"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."

"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.

"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.

"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.

"These are in Austin," you said slowly.

"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."

"Cas-"

"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"

"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.

"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.

"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.

"What?"

"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."

"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."

"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.

"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.

"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.

"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.

"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.

"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.

"I heard about that, might be a lot."

"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"

The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.

"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.

When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.

"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.

Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.

"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.

"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.

"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."

"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.

"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.

"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.

You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."

"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."

After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.

Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.

"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.

"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.

"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?

"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.

"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.

"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.

"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.

Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.

You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.

"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.

You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.

He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.

"It's not a big deal, just-"

"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.

"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."

"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."

You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.

"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.

"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.

"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"We're going to New York City?!"

"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."

You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.

"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"

He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.

"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome," you said with a smile.

He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.

After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.

When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.

The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.

"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.

"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.

"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.

Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.

The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.

When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.

"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.

"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."

He nodded and took a shaky breath in.

He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.

"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.

Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.

"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.

"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

"Yep," was all Joel said in response.

"What time's her flight?"

"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.

"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."

"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.

"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.

"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.

"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.

"Yeah, but-"

"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."

"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.

"Get goin'."

Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.

Joel Miller: You awake?

He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.

You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.

"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.

"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.

"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.

"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.

He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.

"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.

"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.

"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.

"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.

"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.

"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.

"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."

He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.

You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.

So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.

You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.

He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.

"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.

"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.

He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.

"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.

"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.

"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.

God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.

"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.

"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.

You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.

He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.

You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.

"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.

You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.

"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.

"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"

"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.

"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.

You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.

"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.

You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.

"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"

"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.

She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.

You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.

"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.

"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.

Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.

He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.

The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.

"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.

"What?"

"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.

"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.

Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.

"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.

"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."

"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."

Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.

"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.

"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."

"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.

"'Course I didn't ask her-"

"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.

"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.

"Did you tell her that you love her?"

Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.

"How did-"

"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.

"Go get her, Dad."

Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.

He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.

"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.

"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"

"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.

"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."

"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"

"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.

"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.

"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.

"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.

He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.

He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.

What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -

"Joel?"

He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.

"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.

"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.

"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."

He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.

"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.

You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."

"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."

Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.

"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.

As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.

He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.

And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

[partycatty]

Omg youre feeding me!!!! I've been obsessed with Johnny Cage too and your blog is like an oasis, THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!! Also... would you mind writting some fluff/angst of johnny cage and reader? Like you trained with him in the wu shi academy and he always treated you like, a bit colder and distant than the way he treats the other 3 earthrealm champions. But thats atually not because he hates you but he likes you??? And he doesnt know how to express himself so he prefers to stay away, part because the reader is an amazing sorcerer under and is very battle-smart. But also the reader being like EXTREMELY SHY and introverted but very kind and reliable to the point that like all the guys from the earthrealm gangs make excuses just to spend time with the reader because they like them that much...

I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRYYYYYYYYYYY I WAS CARRIED AWAY I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG BUT NOT AS MUCH AS I LOVE JOHNNY CAGE BYEE SORRYYYY AGAIN

NO YOURE SO FINE DONT APOLOGIZE MWAH THANK YOU

johnny cage > envy

johnny can't find the words to describe how he feels around the new recruit, so he decides to say... nothing.

warnings: sad :(, ooc johnny? idk he's insecure

notes: reader is an outworld native sorcerer that lives in earthrealm. also, pretend that outworld natives can fight for earthrealm in the tournament LOL

masterlist <3

• you owed liu kang a favor after prior personal matters, so here he was asking for your strength at the wu shi academy. of course, you agreed. you may be an outworld native, but earthrealm was something to truly fight for. you considered yourself a lesser protector, one call away from fighting if necessary.

• you were highly respected in the field. liu kang knew that your powers were unmatched, probably matching titan shang tsung, and you still chose the good side. liu kang silently thanks himself and fate for keeping you on the side of justice. the lin kuei brothers also know you're on their side. as a secondary protector, you were acutely familiar with their styles and dynamics. in short, you were exactly what earthrealm needed.

• you didn't necessarily need training, but considering you were a contender for the title of champion, it was only smart to hone your skills.

• the boys warmed up to you very quickly; any friend of liu kang is a friend of theirs! kung lao had endless questions that easily flustered you, raiden found your sparring inspiring, and kenshi enjoyed your late night deep chats. the only one missing from the adoration was... johnny cage.

•it was... strange. you'd seen his movies, his public appearances. he was always a smiling, flirting ball of charm. you wondered if perhaps his recent divorce and failure in films contributed to his sour mood.

• but even so, he was still a charming devil around the others! references up the wazoo, loads of banter and he always had something to add to a conversation. it's just that, when you'd contribute something, his smile would fade while others laughed.

• it started with a king of the hill sparring to gauge everyone's skills at first. liu kang said the champion at the end of training would be selected the same way.

• "(reader), you are first," liu kang gestures to you with a smile. "please step forward."

• "cull the weak first," johnny smugly chimes in, hands on his hips. his smirk faded when liu kang said he would be first up as well. you, thankfully, were humble amidst your shyness. even so, you could kick major ass. johnny was knocked to the ground in only a few seconds.

• words were... hard for you. so instead, you extended a hand to johnny who was laying on his back against the cold stone. you smiled warmly and nodded, silently congratulating his efforts and genuinely enjoying the fight. sitting up, johnny let out a deep sigh with furrowed brows, and sat up on his own. he completely rejected your kindness, and for what? even the monks were taken aback by this.

• and again, since that day, johnny's just been incredibly cold toward you. spars after that day were increasingly more challenging. johnny's punches felt more... targeted. his anger was coming out in bursts, and it wasn't healthy. he gets borderline childish when he loses.

• "this can't be fair! you've got magic at your fingertips," he'd groan as he's knocked on his ass for the thousandth time. his skin was bruising from the repeated blows, and you weren't even being rough. "i've just got... fists. can you turn it off for one goddamn round?"

• "this... could be a learning experience?" you ask sheepishly, standing - one again - over johnny.

• "just forget it," he grumbles before walking off, rolling his shoulder. "showoff."

• completely stumped for an explanation, you ended up confiding in the man you grew closest to since beginning training: raiden. he was similar to you in many ways. shy, sweet, and endlessly humble. too humble, actually, to the point of not fully understanding your own strength. in a way, he reminded you of liu kang.

• "i don't understand, raiden. was it something i said? perhaps i'm not as aware of earthrealm culture as i thought i was?" you ask, perplexed.

• "have you considering asking him about it?" raiden replies with a frown. "he seems fine with the rest of us. it's only you he shows hesitation toward."

• he's right. you didn't once consider to actually... ask him. it just sounded like such a foreign concept, to confront someone. the thought made your skin crawl, but you were far more unsettled with johnny's behavior. you had to know.

• so, at the next meal time, you make it a clear effort to sit beside johnny, blocking him off from the rest of the guys. raiden gave you a shy thumbs up before you turned to face the star.

• "mr. cage," you spoke quietly so as to not disturb the others.

• "johnny," he coldly corrects you, eyes fixated on his plate.

• "johnny..." you're already flustered, but you try to swallow it deep down to keep control of the situation. "i'd... i'd like to talk with you, if that's alright."

• johnny's eyes lift to meet yours, but he seems upset. he leans forward to view the other boys and shakes his head.

• "no," he mumbles. "later. after training."

• the conversation stops dead in its tracks as johnny abruptly stands and relocates himself to the other side of the table. you're left dumbfounded as how blunt he is. raiden locks eyes with you again and just shrugs.

• training passes by slower than usual, probably because you're anticipating the conversation. that, and johnny won't stop staring at you every chance he gets. even across the training grounds, you find him staring with a completely blank face. he's cooking something up in his head, you just know it. lord knows what it'd be, though.

• night falls, and you weren't sure where or when to find johnny. as you shrug off the heavy robe and leave yourself in your skin-tight underclothes, you hear a gentle knock in the doorway.

• you spin around, face immediately flushed at the idea of being seen. instinctively, you launched a ball of energy toward the figure, but he dodged just in time.

• "good lord—!" johnny shouts out, slapping a hand on the top of his head to make sure his hair wasn't fried off. "remind me not to sneak up on you."

• "what are you doing in my room?" you ask, blushing deeply as you hug yourself to hide your curves. johnny scoffs and puts his arms up in disbelief, like you're dumb for asking.

• "you're the one that wanted to talk to me," he points in an accusatory way. once your shock wears off, you plop down on your cot with an embarrassed frown. he steps closer, standing above you. it wasn't until now that you realize his physique is incredibly intimidating. and kindaaaaa......

• you tense up, realizing your thoughts are wandering when he's literally right in front of you.

• "well come on. i haven't got all day, fancy pants," johnny jabs at your powers with a sour tone. something about his attitude makes your shyness completely vanish for a moment.

• "why do you speak to me like that?" you inquire bluntly, starting to raise your voice. "i don't understand. was it something i did? said? you've been nothing but cruel to me since i arrived. we're on the same side, johnny. help me understand why you hate me."

• johnny freezes completely, his eyes widening. his once crossed arms tense up before falling to his sides. he lets out a deep sigh.

• "i don't... hate you."

• "so you heavily dislike me."

• "no."

• "then what is it?!"

• "i-i don't know!"

• johnny rakes his fingers through his hair with a frustrated groan.

• "it's like... i want to hate you. i want to hate you so bad, (reader). but i can't. you're just so smart and perfect and... and wildly attractive... but a part of me wants to just—" he holds his hands out in a strangling motion as he rambles. when the thought finally clicks in his head, he sits on the ground, up against the wall opposite you. "i want to hate you because you're everything i could never be. you've got all these fancy powers. the guys love you. i'm just some washed up, divorced, broke—"

• you stand up and make your way to him, crouching down in front of him. your cheeks feel warm at the subtle confession of attraction, but your primary focus at the moment was reassurance.

• "none of those things define you," you say calmly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "for what it's worth, i think you're an incredible fighter. you do your own stunts. you stand up for what you believe in. that is admirable. you're quite funny, too."

• he looks down at you with a weak smile. he seems internally defeated, but outwardly flattered.

• "you're too kind," he chuckles breathlessly, looking around. "god i... i'm sorry to fall apart like that. please don't tell anyone you witnessed that."

• "i won't," you promise, returning with laughter yourself. suddenly, your mind calls back to his confession, and a smile tugs hard at your lips. your face burns. "did you say i'm 'wildly attractive?'"

• "yes! god!" johnny is now giggling, waving his hands at you. "have you looked at yourself? drives me crazy just sittin' here with you!"

• you let out a whimper and cover your face, burning hot. you try to protest in a muffled tone, but johnny just grabs your hands and holds them in his. he smiles warmly, the first real smile he's given you.

• "you're hard to hate, you know. you're just so damn cute when you're flustered. it's so easy to rile you up, isn't it?"

• you wiggle, flustered. you can only yelp out his name as you wordlessly beg him to stop the teasing. tragically, you opened the flood gates. he wasn't afraid of you anymore.

[galwithalibrarycard]

There was consideration of casting BEN'S FAMILY?????? Kill me dead right now oh my god. I don't even care who they'd have cast, we could have had HOBBES FAMILY CONTENT??????? PARDON?????

2014 was the perfect time to readapt much ado, not because of the rise of youtube or vlog formats in general, but because of the popularity of ben-edict cumberbatch. how many ben(edict) jokes can beatrice make in one video? never enough to beat the allegations

[attapullman]

ONE NIGHT ONLY // series

It wasn’t supposed to be anything. Meaningless sex. A laugh or two. Home before dawn with a coffee from the place on the corner. Bob Floyd never expected to meet a wide-grinned early riser who has him questioning his policy on dating. But he's glad he did.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x OC (Maggie Brentley)

Warnings: 18+ (minors and blank dni), explicit language, suggestive content, smut, anxious attachment style, angst out the wazoo.

INTRODUCTION: Just For Tonight

ONE coming soon

[revelisms]

New WIP has me deep in the emotional whumpzone (per usual)—so even more Ghost headcanons: Angst Edition. Because why not ❤️‍🩹

CW: Family dysfunction, parentification, negative self-image, anger issues, relationship issues, grief. Also some heartwarming-ish moments? Sorta kinda? (;-;)b

Primo

Faced the harshest transition within the church as the first successor to the new Order, having to meet both the old clergy's expectations as well as the standards Nihil, as part of his bargaining, had been pressured to achieve.

Also saw first-hand much of the darker underbelly of the church (e.g., murders caused by the ghouls, corruption in the clergy, etc.), which he tried to shield the younger ones from witnessing. It's not all champagne and caviar in these halls—especially at the top.

Has had few consistent lovers in his life, but has loved them all deeply. Getting beneath his surface-level affections can be challenging, though. He has a kind, nurturing presence with most everyone, especially those he likes to have around—but as a partner, he can be protective to the point of patronizing. Very cautious, at times condescending, and ultimately fearful of ever losing someone again. Loves like a dragon guarding a horde of gold, and can get just as ugly for it.

Didn't want to have to step into the role of essentially father and mother for the boys, but he felt he had to. There's a hardness to him, for that, and a sense of young adulthood that he's lost; he feels ancient in a way that's difficult to explain, and always has. There's very little of him that feels youthful anymore.

His love for gardening runs deeper than most take it for. He's always been interested in healing magick and herbal remedies, and it's an older field of study he gravitated to in his earlier days. He's been on the cusp of too many tragedies to turn a blind eye to it, now, and so this is his way of doing something. He sees himself as too old, too frail, and frankly too booksmart to do so, otherwise; it's an underlying resentment of his, after watching too many ritual acts go wrong.

Having the Sight of clairsentience (aka: seeing into the minds of living things) has made him a bit of a chronic skeptic. He has lost his trust in most things; the few that he keeps to are the realms of possibility and self-determination: that what he sees in one moment does not have to be Truth, overall. But it hurts, being cursed to know what others truly think and would wish to do, even if they won't voice it. He tries to stay kind, despite that.

Secondo

He was always an angry child, and wrestles worse with his frustrations as an adult. His spite and his rage have fueled him; in many ways, Wrath has been the one constant of his life. But it has broken countless relationships in the process, and created a reputation that most siblings fear.

He's a very bitter, armored man—and, as a result, can be a bit of an ass—but he's aware of it. (Unlike someone else. Grumble grumble.)

Despite their theoretical closeness in age (I HC a bigger gap here), and quite a few shared emotional traits, he and Terzo couldn't be more polar opposite. Since Secondo was unwantedly looped into Primo's surrogate parental role once he got older, he took the brunt of this with Terzo, who was hell to manage. He has a lot of regrets over this, and puts silent blame on himself (in fairness, more than he should) for Terzo not getting the support or affection he should have when he was younger. Their relationship has always been strained from this.

Daddy issues out the wazoo—and it's translated into most relationships (work or otherwise) he's had with authority figures, since. He's a beast to deal with, when it comes to the clergy; most members of the cloth will toss him straight to Nihil before they have to even think of handling him (which is disastrous, in itself; he's inherited much of Sister's traits when it comes to bickering Nihil into place, and their All-Father can't stand it...but c'est la vie).

In short: Hell forbid you share a table with these two. Copia and Nihil's mess is tame, comparatively.

Genuinely one big tender-hearted teddy bear beneath it all, but few are given the privilege to see it. He's a very romantic man stuck in a complacent chain of disposability, and he's made his peace with that. He's certainly not an easy person to love; being in a relationship with him is a constant yo-yo of moods that can explode at the drop of a pen—but with the right balance, with someone who can ground him, he could rival the poets of old with his lavishness. Roses and wine and sweets for days. (And kisses. Satan, don't forget those.)

Having the Sight of retrospection (aka: seeing the the past) has been both the root of his fascinations with history and, ironically, his complete disgust of those who claim to study it (...which he is, but anyway). It's also led to some hard wounds due to Primo trying to safeguard him from the darker nature of the church as a child vs. the realities he was forced to bear witness to once gifted the Sight. It broke a lot of his security in the doctrines, and his trust in Primo. As a result, he views their eldest, above all, as a liar and has learned to take the guidance he shares with a grain of salt.

Terzo

Was a very rambunctious, escapist-driven child, and it has led into him being a flippant, snide, and at times callously individualistic adult. However, this battles with his desire to be valued by others—most of all, to help someone feel better in themselves. He's incredibly kind and soothing, when he wants to be.

The mix of priorities can be puzzling. As much as he can be selfish in one moment, he would roll out of bed at 2am to conduct a blessing for an insomnia-riddled sibling of sin, without question (which is...other WIP shh). This can make it hard to know where one stands with him, and whether any special treatment they've seemingly been given is all that special, after all.

Can be extremely petty for the spite of it, often through comments that cut to the bone, but almost as frequently in performances he knows will pull eyes. Nihil and Sister are often the joint instigators of this, and it tends to trickle down, unfairly, into his treatment of Copia—though he knows it shouldn't. He's not proud of this, and attempts to curb it when he can, but in many ways his temper is a mirror to Secondo's own; once something sets him off, he can become fiercely cold and hurtful. Getting on his bad side is a vile place to be.

Has, for lack of a better term, a tightly controlled persona: almost impeccably funny, sly, and suave, especially once he's ascended into the papacy (and been put on a tightwire of clerical demands). Few have seen the quiet, withdrawn, fidgety side of him. Few, he doubts, would want to.

At his most fundamental, he is heavily driven by a need to feel seen, accepted and loved—but he's repeatedly sabotaged it once it's been given. The siblings dubbed him a "loose kite" well before his Cardinal days: someone without a tether bound to land wherever (and with whomever) he wants. Most are aware that he's an egregious flirt, and little else, and have learned to never take his affections too seriously—and, to an extent, that's exactly what he wants. On the other hand, he's shot himself in the foot with this: a self-fulfilled prophecy of nothing ever panning out (and one he fears ever panning out at all, as much as he wants it).

Having the Sight of premonition (aka: seeing the future) has been dual-edged. He's seen the beauty of his own future, and of select others, countless paths over—and, just as wickedly, their demise. Countess potentials, countless lovers, countless beings, countless deaths. It has never been a source of peace, for him; he can only know with certainty what may occur once he has taken the first step onto a bounded path. Starting the route to his Papacy was his only confirmation that he was doomed to fail—but, for years, he knew little else.

The biggest splint in his Path, always, was Omega. Saints and demons, it was always Omega.

Copia

You could fill a jar with the things this man would nitpick about himself—and still, he would nitpick more—but he is nothing if not a source of reassurance for any who have known him: both in his bumbling Cardinal days, and in the slow-sewn confidence he's found in his senior roles. One of the sweetest, if sweetly awkward, souls one could meet—but give him any passing compliment, and he'll scrape it under his heel.

For all he craves true praise, hungers for it, he is so hesitant to believe it. He has never felt good enough in his own skin. Not for Primo's success, not for Secondo's intelligence, not for Terzo's confidence. Certainly not for the clergy's standards. And Sister—Mother—well. He's never quite known how to untangle the dreams she poured into him from his own.

Was effectively the black sheep of the family for much of his youth, despite receiving more affection from Sister—which, in retrospect, only added to the resentments. He had always been seen as an other, most harshly by Terzo, who felt that his ability to even have a relationship with his own mother was squashed by Copia devouring her attentions.

Losing them all made it easier, in some ways. It had to be done. (Hell, he misses them. He misses them so much.)

Loving him can be an overwhelming experience. As a partner, he goes overboard on the regular (often, humorously, with disastrous results). It's challenging sometimes for him to realize he doesn't need to perform, in this; that he can just be. He hadn't taken the best cues from Terzo, in that—but who else could he have looked up to, but Terzo: who was beautiful, and desired, and bright as a star?

There's a cruel irony in that. Terzo had never quite opened up to his little brother—but if he would have, Copia would have only known how much they had in common: how much of their black-sheeped image-loathed performance-pillared suffering they'd shared. (But the past is the past, now. Copia can't think on that, too long.)

Having a belatedly repaired relationship with Nihil and Sister has been complicated for him. There's an unspoken attempt at correction, for their (seemingly) final and "true" heir—attempting to be a better father, a better mother, to be a family. He'd never quite had that, in all those years before. A part of him loathes that only now he's being given it.

The Sight of clairvoyance (aka: seeing the Bridge between realms) is strange sort of blessing, in this. They're all with him, always. Through life and death, through all of it. And perhaps that's what he'd always been meant to be—a homestead for those lost souls to gather; to live free again, if for a moment. He finds comfort in that, much as he can.

[theonemeathead]

Hello!

Unsure if your requests are open—if not, disregard this—but if I could request something that’s Medic x reader. SFW is my only real request, but hurt/comfort, fluff, a bit of angst, anything you’d like!

Have fun with it. I’ve read your sniper fic and your spy fic, and I absolutely loved both of them.

You’re doing amazing! I’m excited to read anything you make in the future <3

Medic x Reader, "Harsh"

hello! omg im sorry this took so long, ive been so busy working. i love medic, i hope i wrote him well, it's my first time! warning for light gore and some hurt/comfort angst. enjoy!

"You failed!"

The Administrator croaked, her voice ringing out through the speaker. The fight had been gruelling, all of you were exhausted. The other team had pushed you all back into your base, beginning an onslaught of terror. You were blown to pieces by an enemy Soldier, the enemy Demoman was using you for easy kills, and the enemy Engineer had sentries set up out the wazoo. You had been sent through Respawn countless times, your frustration growing everytime you were taunted as you died. At one point, the enemy Sniper had shot out both of your legs and then proceeded to point and laugh as you tried to crawl away. It was safe to say you didn't get far before your brains were strewn, unceremoniously, across the battlefield.

Back in the locker room, it was obvious nobody was happy. Normally, your teammates weren't sore losers, save for a few exceptions. But today had been so exhausting that even Pyro was in a sour mood. You sat down on one of the benches, rubbing your aching muscles as the other mercenaries cleaned themselves up.

"Man, that frickin' sucked!"

Leave it to Scout to break any amount of peace and quiet. You didn't feel like arguing with the wall, otherwise you'd tell him off for not staying on the point. You were bitter with multiple of your teammates, but none of them had quite pissed you off quite like Medic had today.

"AGREED, MAGGOT. I AM FILLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND CANNOT FEEL ANYTHING FROM THE WAIST DOWN."

"Yeah, well, that wouldn't be the case if we could've gotten some healing from, y'know, the one guy who's whole job is to heal." Your words came out passive-aggressive. You knew it was immature, but you also knew everyone had the same gripe you did. You instantly regretted even mentioning it as the locker next to yours slammed shut. Medic was unstable when he was upset, and he seemed to be the most torn up about this loss out of everyone. Silence overfell the locker room, yet again.

"None of you understand how tedious my job is," he began. You could hear the grit in his words, the emotions that were brewing and starting to boil over. Medic liked to praise himself as one of the more rational mercenaries, talking about how you must always have a cool temper when you're a doctor. Yet, here he was, his face slightly flushed from frustration.

"Your job wouldn't be as tedious if you did it properly," you challenged him. You stood up straight, as you folded your hands across your chest. You eye twitched slightly as you scowled at the back of Medic's head. You could feel other gazes, followed by various murmuring and receding footsteps; it was probably smart to leave before this escalated.

"Oh, really, maus? Well, if that's the case, then I no longer see why I'm needed on this team. Auf wiedersehen!" He forced a smile as he turned on his heels, hastily stomping off towards his quarters. He pushed past you, making a point that you were in his way.

"Fine! Be that way!" you called out, but your yells fell upon deaf ears. You looked around the locker room at whoever was left, making eye contact with Scout, who flinched away under your gaze.

It was going to be a rough night.

-

It had been hours since you and Medic had last spoken, which was unusual. You two were nearly inseparable, but enough time had passed for Engineer to start prepping dinner. You leaned against the counter of the kitchen, absentmindedly observing the tinkerer as he began slicing various vegetables. Engineer had always been a mentor, of sorts, to you; A beacon of wisdom. He was one of the few people on this godforsaken team who wasn't batshit crazy. He seemed to have picked up on your quietness, opting to fill the spaceless void instead.

"Y'know, sweetheart, I think tensions were just high earlier. Ain't no sensin' both of y'all bein' upset, why don'tcha be the bigger person and, I dunno, apologize?" He asked, earnestly. He looked up at you, smiling. His expression was slightly unreadable, due to the goggles he was wearing, but it was warm nonetheless.

"I guess, but—Everyone agrees that he was slacking on the field! I'm not in the wrong!"

"I know, darlin', but everyone has their off days. Hell, even I have those rounds where it feels like I can never catch a break from that damn Spy sappin' my sentry." He chuckled to himself, low and comforting. Engineer's laidback atmosphere was always so calming. "I reckon you have your days too. Last thing you would want is for somebody to point out how you missed a Heavy, who was about an arm's-length away."

"You saw that?!" You gasped, embarrassed. He was right, you didn't do too well either today. Maybe you were unfair to the doctor earlier. You pushed yourself off the counter with a sigh. "You have a point, I'll go see what I can do."

The journey to the infirmary was nerve-wracking. It wasn't full of anticipation and excitement to see your lover, no, it was anxiety-ridden and nauseating. You felt horrible, like you were wearing cement bricks, rather than shoes. You reached the sterile area of the base, the cold air of the lobby immediately sending goosebumps through your body. You took a deep breath, shakily knocking on the steel doors of the actual operating room. You were met with silence, although you could hear the various shuffling of papers and the familiar cooes of his doves.

You hesitated, pushing on the door slightly. You opened it, just enough to peak your head in. The sight before you was disheartening, to say the least. He was surrounded by multiple forms of paperwork, his hair slightly messy and his movements erratic. He seemed to frantically be searching for something, flipping between books and whatnot. You cleared your throat, the echo of the sound stopping him in his tracks immediately. He froze, not daring to turn and face you. "Medic...?"

"Ah, of course. I'm busy, can't you see?" His tone held a faux sweetness, as if he was one snap away from losing his composure completely.

"Medic, I— I'm sorry. I was mean to you back in the locker rooms, I let how I felt get the better of me. I was harsh on you and I shouldn't have been," you started, your voice shaking slightly from your emotions. He clicked his tongue, humming slightly in response. Although, he seemed to relax his posture, yet still refused to look at you. "Medic, we need you... I need you. You're a good doctor, I can't imagine anyone else fit to surgically implant baboon hearts—"

"Mega baboon hearts."

"Right, mega baboon hearts... into people. I love you, Medic." He swiveled his chair around, one leg crossed over the other as he had his arms crossed over his chest. He faced you, seeming to finally scan your features. He tilted his head, giving you a small smile. He tsked, pleased by your apology.

"Ah, schatz, you are forgiven." He beckoned you towards him, opening his arms up wide for a hug. You happily obliged, tackling into his large chest. He caught you, holding you and rubbing soothing circles into your side. "Ich liebe dich auch."

[textsfromthetva]

I feel like you need therapy cause why else do you wanna see Brad angsted out the WAZOO

Okay, first of all, I go to therapy once a week, so jot that down.

Second, it’s just whump, and that's a perfectly normal genre. In this case I also think it’s the most realistic outcome. You can argue for “break the haughty” as another relevant trope. No matter what, if we get to see Loki cry and fall apart every other episode for our twisted enjoyment, I should get to see Brad do the same. And then maybe even get better. As a treat.

In summary:

[stayandot8]

g's masterlist

hi :) welcome to my corner of tumblr. This is everything I've written so far. If you read, thank you. Leave your thoughts if you please, I would love to hear them. If you have any ideas or comments, my inbox is open.

<3

Color Code:

Black Title - Chan pairing

Green title - Seungmin

Orange Title - Ateez

Stray Kids (in order of newest to oldest)

Whispers in The Dark (newest)

Based on the song by Monsta X with the same name, this is a college AU. Not all of the members will be mentioned by name, if at all.

Talk spreads. Rumors fly. But what is to be believed? What's in front of you? Or the Whispers in the Dark?

Part One: Lying Through Your Teeth

Just One Yesterday (Completed)

this one is a little different than anything else I've written. An AU where the members work in a bar with my MC, no idols among them. It's also going to be on the longer side. The fluffy Chris we know and love is nowhere to be found. He's broodier, moodier, and has jokes up the wazoo. So buckle up, kitties. This one's gonna be good.

Angels Choking On Their Halos

So Only Say My Name

Heaven's Grief

Hell's Reign

Just One Yesterday

Playlist Series (Completed)

Your boyfriend Chan makes a playlist of all the songs he's had a hand in writing that were about you or relationship.

Track Zero: Connected

Track One: The View

Track Two: Airplane

Tracks Three & Four: Mixtape: Oh & Your Eyes

Track Five: Give Me Your TMI

Track Six: Fairytale

Track Seven: Case 143

Track Eight: Drive (18+)

Track Nine: Time Out

Track Ten: Red Lights (18+)

Requests

Chan

One Day (Request, idol!Chan x actress!reader)

Touches (request)

Nightlyfe (request, bumping into Chan at a club)

Heart and Seoul (request, nonidol!chan x reader w/ daughter)

Come With Me (Part two of Stay With Me) (Request)

Seungmin

Drawn To You (Seungmin request, I.N Childhood best friend x idol!Seungmin)

Picnic (Seungmin request, father seungmin tossing the baseball with his daughter)

Add-ons and one shots

18+

Peaches

Cravings

Notice

Angst

Y(our) World

(y)Our World (part two) (angst turned fluffier)

Where There's Smoke... (angst turned fluff)

A Case of Friends and Lovers (angst turned fluff bc ofc)

The Listener (more angst than fluff but turns fluffier imo)

Stay With Me (angst bc of what he's going through rn, reader tries to help, ends well)

Defrost

Thaw (Defrost part 2. angst?? then fluff? I can't tell anymore)

Emergency Contact (comfort fluff; chan in the midst of a panic/anxiety attack)

Fluffy

Sunday Morning

Thrice (an add-on to Track Six)

Always Find Me (an add-on to Track Two)

Pieces of Light

This Lover of Mine

Under the Sheets

Day One (Part two of One Day)

For Your Eyes Only

Birthday Gifts

The Hoodie Boogie

An Inning with Minnie (Seungmin Fluffy drabble)

Warmth

Ateez

Gentle Breeze (yunho x fem reader)

Prologue: Angel of Song (Angel Mingi x reader) (could continue...maybe)

[daniwib]

I have not had a WIP grab me this fiercely since empty, broken, lonely hoping.

This one has whump. It has angst. It has tension and drama and intrigue. Unreliable narrators and obsession and kidnapping (my beloved); worried found family, presumed dead, did I mention angst and hurt/comfort out the wazoo.

I am enthralled. Obsessed. Excited. Exhausted. I can't wait to finish it and share it with you all - hopefully before Halloween.

Tentative title is Misery's Echo.

Asks are open and welcome!

[punkshort]

'i'll be home for christmas' masterlist

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant (any additional warnings will be listed in each chapter)

Status: complete (but one-shots updated sporadically)

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you.

Main:

⛸️Part One

🎻Part Two

✈️Part Three

One-shots:

🥂something only you can give

❤️weekend getaway

🍼saturday

🍺dad jokes

🏠home

🎂birthday wishes

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

[smallraindrops-blog]

I Know A Place (just for you and me)

Part 5

WMFTD!Y/N X Hypnos

Word count: 7.3

Warnings: Fluff, heavy angst, implied sex, death, AUs out of the wazoo, no beta.

Notes: 

I was going to hold off on posting this but with how long it's been since I posted anything I made, I decided to push this one out a little earlier. Thanks everyone for their patience and I hope y'all enjoy this!

also everyone go tell @jun-yng thanks for their big brain idea of ‘How to train your dragon’ AU, it wouldn’t exist without them. ( also look at their pretty art and pet the screen as you mutter like a feral person)

All parts can be found on the Masterlist

~

Fighting Evil by Moonlight (Magical girls au)

Hypnos wanted it to be noted in the records that she wanted nothing to do with any of this. 

Like she was going to hire a handsome lawyer who would nod with compassion as she told him everything and yell ‘objection!’. He would do it for her honor, then he would confess to falling madly in love with her the moment she stepped into his high rise office. 

She had been more happy to stay home with her clay mask and her softest pj on while she reread ‘The Surrender of Aphrodite’ for the millionth time. 

Unlike Zagreus who had seen the shiny dumb egg fall out of the night skies and went chasing after it. 

”Duck!” Zagreus yelled to the team, her dark hair fanned behind her as she twisted out of the way of the queen monster’ glimmering beam, causing her black skirt to lift up.

Hypnos landed on the damp, cold ground of the park, cursing as the disgusting mud touched her bare thighs. Her - stupid, too short, too ruffled - ruby red skirt hid nothing as she rolled to get out of the way of another beam.

Once this dumb thing was sent back to the underworld or wherever they went to, Hypnos was going to treat herself to a double cheeseburger with some fries and a good crying session in a very hot shower.

“We need to kill these things and fast!” Melinoë called out. Her swift form was a blur of orange as she swung her weapon, taking one of the freaky and smaller monsters out.  

“Like you don’t say? I thought we were going to invite them over a sleepover!” Hypnos snapped between chatting teeth. 

Hypnos took the chance to get back on her two feet, wobbly on the high heels and flipping her long curls over her shoulder. In a desperate attempt to summon her own weapon, she waved a hand in front of her chest.

Her impractical red flower brooch began glowing from its place in the middle of her giant bow but no weapons formed. Again.

Instead she coaxed her own magic forward, pale and misty. So unlike the vibrant colors of the other princesses, Hypnos thought sourly. 

A moment later, red flowers bloomed from the mist in her palm.

While everyone else got cool weapons and flashy attacks, Hypnos just had these dumb red flowers. However if she tossed enough in her foe’s face, they went down for a nap time. 

That little fact she discovered the first time in pure panic when Zagreus found that egg and a slime monster tried to eat them. 

One of the monsters rushed toward her, the eyes in the skull glowing an ugly yellow, its mouth a gaping black maw and Hypnos readied the flowers in a tight fist. 

Only to realize in horror that two more were charging from both sides.

Hypnos froze, her breath caught in her chest as she tried to work out what to do. She wasn’t a fighter- she wanted to go home- they had only been magical girls for two weeks-

Just as the monsters were about to jump her, their fangs sharp in the moonlight, Hypnos felt something heavy wrapped around her waist, yanking her up against a solid form as they leaped away from the oncoming monsters.

The monsters slammed into each other, so hard that they vanished. 

Hypnos blinked, dizzy as she realized that she was unharmed, her hands grabbing at the heavy arm around her waist. Then she saw the fluttering cloak in the breeze, matching the scarlet of her ridiculous outfit, and the golden shine of armor. 

A gleaming spear moved in front of her, another barrier of protection.

”Protect the princesses!” Her knight in shining armor roared to the other arriving knights, each one swiftfully taking out the monster far more faster than any of the princesses did.

Zagreus and Meilnoe weren’t going to be happy about the Knights coming to the rescue once again but Hypnos couldn’t find it in herself to be that upset. She slumped against the knight with a heavy sigh. 

She parted her lips to thank her knight.

Only to get dragged away and shoved into a bush. She winced in pain at the sharp jabs of the leaves.

”Hey- what is the-” Hypnos went quiet as the gloved finger pointed at her. The knight’s face was hidden by the golden helmet and shadows. But Hypnos still felt the intensity of their eyes on her.

“Stay here. I will fetch you when it is safe.” The knight growled then turned away, still muttering. “I swear you all are a butch of boneheads. Pains in my ass, all of you!” 

“Am not!” Hypnos called back, suddenly wishing that the knight didn’t save her just so they would have felt guilty when Hypnos got hurt. She huffed as she watched the knight neatly killed off the monsters.

Zagreus was yelling at one of them, silver armor with a black cloak. Melinoe was just trying to help finish off the last few with her knights in silver and orange. 

Hypnos’ knight - not that she liked calling them that but it seemed the magic wanted them all to be color coded for whatever reason- looked far too dashing in their golden armor and red cloak as they ruthlessly killed the queen monster in a single hit. 

Like a knight from a storybook that Hypnos would daydream over. 

Deciding for herself that it was more than safe, Hypnos stood with a huff and went to join her fellow princesses. 

~

It was after five minutes or so of listening to Zagreus arguing with the knights that Hypnos decided she was far too cold and hungry to stay out much longer.

Besides, it was a school night anyway. And she was done wearing these heels.

”I’m leaving.” Hypnos informed the group in a loud yawn. Not that anyone was paying attention to her anyway.

Hypnos turned on her heels and began the long walk back home. Hopefully her brothers or mom won’t notice Hypnos sneaking through her bedroom’s window, she will just act like she was asleep the whole time when they finally do see her.

A moment later, she sensed rather than hear the knight join behind her, a watchful guard - or a babysitter if she was being honest. 

“I will be fine. Shoo, go polish your armor or kill a dragon or whatever it is that knights do.” Hypnos waved a dismissive hand over her shoulders. 

“What knights do is watch over their foolish princess, especially when she tries to walk home alone in the dark.” Her knight shot back. Hypnos felt her cheeks flushed at the implication of the words but only scoffed.

She lifted her arm up, scowling at her flower brooch, and with a tap on it, her school uniform was restored in a gentle light as the brooch changed back to a dainty bracelet with a single charm of a red flower dangling from it.

Thankfully - or unfortunately depending- it returned her school bag as well, but her knight picked it up before Hypnos could, swinging it onto their shoulder. Hypnos gave them a cool glare before she began her walk again.

If her knight wanted to carry her stuff, so be it. Less work for Hypnos.

While the long sleeves of her button up and longer skirt helped a little, it wasn’t as much as she hoped. Shivering, Hypnos crossed her arms. She really needed to remember to get her beloved coat from school tomorrow.

“I swear you guys don’t know how to take care of yourself at all.” Her knight grumbled. Before she could snap back, a heavy, warm weight enveloped her form. 

The cloak. 

If Hypnos was like Zagreus, so desperate to prove herself, Hypnos might have protested but she wasn’t. Hypnos sighed deeply in relief, wrapping it around tightly and buried her face in it to get warm. There was a faint scent to it, almost like a campfire maybe. 

Whenever it was, it smelled good.

For a long moment, they walked side by side in silence. Even with the armor, the knight moved with a quiet, easy grace that Hypnos was envious of. 

“Thank you.” Hypnos said finally, peeking up from her lashes. Gosh, but the knight might be one of the tallest people she ever met. Beside Asterius.

If the voice was deeper, more masculine, it could be Asterius… Hypnos felt her heart flutter with hope.

“Just be more careful next time.” Her knight grumbled. Their voice was low, more like warm silk but most certainly not Asterius.

Hypnos nodded, her hopes dashed but she was surprised to find that she wasn’t that upset. Asterius and his ‘friend’ had something going on even if Hypnos was the only one to notice. “I'm just not made for fighting. I don’t even get a weapon.” 

“You are the reincarnation of a sleep deity or something right? Why would you be near a battlefield anyway?” The knight asked. From the way their tone sounded, it seemed like that question had been on their mind for a while.

Hypnos shrugged, her tone dry. “Seems wrong to get some type of power and not help out my fellow princesses. Zagreus also wouldn’t leave me alone. And I don't want to upset whatever god tossed that egg our way.”

Another silence fell between them. The trees rustled, losing more of the bold leaves. 

“You know what?” Hypnos said suddenly. “I wouldn’t mind all this- the fighting, the late nights -that uniform- you saw how short that skirt is right? Especially with those heels. Anyone could see my panties.”

At that the knight made a strangled noise, like they were in great deal of pain but Hypnos decided it must be their version of laughing in agreement. 

Hypnos sighed, waving her hand around, scowling at the sparkling charm. “I wouldn’t mind if I was actually useful. All I can do is create those dumb red flowers- ow!“

She stopped, hissing at the sharp pain in her scalp. She twisted her head, staring at the charm that was caught in her curls.  Hypnos heard the knight muttering something under their breath, stepping far too close. 

A gloved hand caught her chin, their thumb pressed against her sudden flushed cheek. The leather was cool against her skin but it didn’t help to cool her skin. Hypnos’ heart raced, like a bird caught in her chest as the knight leaned in. 

With gentleness Hypnos didn’t expect, the knight began to untangle the charm out of her curls. 

“Stupid flower.” Hypnos said, desperately trying to look anywhere else. Her other hand tightened on the cloak.

”Poppy.” The knight said abruptly. Hypnos frowned up at them with a quick glance, her eyes on them once again. Even this close, their face was hidden away.

”Those flowers? They are called poppies.” Her knight chuckled, they sounded too amused for their own good. 

“Oh. Wowie, didn’t know that.” Hypnos whispered, once again unable to look at the knight. She sounded like a fool and she wanted the ground to open up to swallow her.

That little laugh had sent a pool of warmth to her chest and Hypnos was torn between running away, her hair be damned or leaning in closer. 

Hypnos wanted to say something else, something clever or seductive like Lady Aphrodite would come up with but her tongue felt heavy as she caught a whiff of that spicy scent again.

“They are supposed to help with pain and with rest.” Her knight spoke up, their voice low. “That's why the chaos egg gave you these gifts. Poppies belong to you, princess, just as sweet dreams and gentle sleep all belong to you.”

Hypnos felt the moment that her charm was freed, the knight’s warm hand curled around her wrist. With a shaky breath, Hypnos looked up, wishing desperately that she could see their eyes.

The knight shifted closer, there was barely any space left between them. Hypnos licked her lips nervously, her heart racing. Like a flash, Hypnos wanted to stand on her toes and kiss this stranger.

Then they jerked, as if realizing how close they and Hypnos were. Her knight immediately stepped away, dropping their hands away.

Hypnos swayed, thrown off balance by the abrupt change. She had been sure they were about to say something else. Her knight shifted the bag on their broad shoulder, already walking away. 

“Come on, princess. It is getting late.” They snapped. 

Hypnos gasped in outrage. She almost didn’t follow them but then remembered they had her bag. 

Fuming with a childish anger, She stuck her tongue out behind their back.

”Put that back in your mouth.” They called out, not even turning around to look at her.

Hypnos sighed loudly and had to run to get caught up.  Nothing was more said between them. Hypnos kept glancing over them but unable to find the right words.

“We are getting near the park’s entrance.” Her knight informed her and Hypnos blinked in surprise. She didn’t realize how close they were, too lost in her thoughts.

“Oh.” Hypnos said. They were still hidden by the evergreen shrubs but it would be easy for someone to spot them once inside the park.

Hypnos gave her Knight a side glance. “You should probably change back. People will notice someone walking around in shiny, gold metal. The movie set thing won’t work, trust me.” 

She couldn’t hide the hopeful tone of her words. Hypnos wanted to know the face behind that helmet. She wanted to know the person that damn egg had paired her with.

”Nope. Sorry, princess.” Her knight said, not sounding all that sorry. Hypnos resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a toddler.

The knight handed over her school bag and she huffed as she looked back at the city. “Stay in the lights, I will protect you until you get home safe.”

Hypnos frowned, turning back to glare at the knight but the space next to her was empty.

“W-what-“. Hypnos turned in a circle, trying to find her companion in the shadows of the park. “Oh come on!”

Hypnos tightened the red cloak around her like a blanket. She stomped her foot. “This is so unfair. I am keeping your cloak!”

~

(The next morning)

At the sound of a motorcycle, Hypnos lifted her head up to scowl at her new guest. Next to her in a sleek sport bike, you peered at her through the visor as you stopped the vehicle in the bike lane.

Thankfully this street was empty with no traffic, making it easy to hear.

You were dressed in your uniform of jeans and your worn leather jacket open carelessly to reveal a black shirt with your parents’ gym logo in the middle.

She felt her cheeks flushed, those familiar butterflies returning to her stomach. She pointly didn’t look at your chest. Or shoulders. 

It was so unfair how much cooler you were. All of Hypnos’ life, you were always this untouchable cool girl that everyone wanted but couldn’t have. 

It didn't do anything to kill her crush on you however, if anything it just made it worse.

“Get on.” You ordered, with a nod toward the backseat. “Did you sleep in again?”

“I was up late last night, you know, saving the world and all that.” Hypnos replied cheerfully. She could be lackadaisical as she wanted, she knew you wouldn’t believe her.

You rolled your eyes like Hypnos knew you would. “You are so spoiled. I have your stupid helmet in my side bag.” 

With a half-hearted glare,Hypnos moved quickly as she could, pulling out her cherry red kitty ears helmet. She loved it so much. 

With a practiced grace, she got on the bike as she placed her helmet on.

it would mess up her hair but as long as she didn’t get in trouble for being late for school again, she didn’t care.

She wrapped her arms around your solid waist just before you took off. Hypnos tucked herself in close with a sigh as you expertly weaved around the traffic. 

You should have been in school with her but you had studied harder than most students and graduated a solid year before anyone else to help with your family business. 

You were probably the reason your parents' business hasn't gone under especially with the rumored health problems of Patroclus. 

Hypnos gave you a squeeze, hoping you knew what she was trying to say. 

And oddly enough, afterwards the faint spicy smell of campfire lingered around her for the rest of the day.

She was going to ask you where you got that cologne, it should definitely be a clue on which guy from school was her knight.

~~~~~~

Speak. (Podcaster Au)

It was around three in the morning when you gave up the ghost. 

Sleep didn’t come again.

Your body felt too anxious, sure that enemies lurked in the shadows, ready to bury a blade in your neck. You rolled out the bed and began to pace in your room. You lived alone, so you wouldn’t be bothering anyone else with your craziness thankfully.

or PTSD as the therapist called it, throwing more alphabets at you along with bright orange pills bottles. Colorful pills that did nothing for you and you glared at the medicine on your nightstand.

It was unfair because you knew this stuff had to help others but it had been months, hell years since you got a good night's rest. Even nightmares would be better than insomnia at this point.

You just wanted to be able to close your eyes and sleep.

~

It was the desperation of seeing another sunrise with dry eyes that burned that sent you looking at podcasts, Zagreus never shut up about them. He always seemed to have one on, and constantly sent you links that you never opened.

Maybe there would be one that would bore you to sleep.

You carefully avoid the ones about current events, you were not in the right headspace for that shit right right now. Definitely not the true crimes one. You scoffed at the alpha males podcasts and rolled your eyes at the historical wars ones. 

No one knew what it was like until it was them in on the muddy fields, listening to everyone dying-

You shook your head sharply, slamming it against the headboard. You didn't wince at the sharp jolt of pain that shot your mind like lightning. You welcomed it. You resisted the urge to repeat it.

You closed your eyes as you forced yourself to do the breathing exercises. 

In.

Hold. 

Out. 

Breath. 

Half an hour later, you resumed your hunting, this time on the much softer couch. Beams of sunlight peered in, dust molts in the amber light. You debated trying to eat something but the thought of even trying made you nauseous. 

It was only by luck when you saw it. You remembered that Zagreus had mentioned it, the name unusual enough to stick in the dimness of your mind. It didn’t seem very popular.

You read the title again.

‘Shut up, Hypnos: A rambling podcast.’

Frowning, you skimmed over the playlist. It seemed this guy picked the most random topic imaginable and then spent anywhere from three to- you blinked and squinted, bringing your phone closer- sixteen hours just talking.

Shut up indeed, you thought with an exhausted chuckle. 

Deciding the seven hours episode on the history of the card game ‘Uno’ was a safe one, you began it as you stared up at the ceiling. There was the first minute of ads, a woman talking about building websites in a near orgasmic tone. 

Then.

”Helllloooo, welcome to my closet and to my podcast. If you don’t know me, my name is Hypnos - yes, I know the name is weird, tell that to my mom- and this is ‘Shut up, Hypnos.’ Where I will talk to you until you either toss your phone into a river with pure disgust at humanity or fall asleep from sheer boredom! Whichever comes first.” 

You blinked, of all the voices you expected, it wasn’t that one. It was airy, not bad but something that told you the man might be pitching it up higher than natural. 

But still, not bad.

”Uno. Dos- tres- No, only Uno please.” Hypnos laughed at his own joke. It was a nice laugh. Your eyes traced the sunbeams on your ceiling.

“That game was the bane of my existence from the moment I gained consciousness and the dexterity required to hold the cards. I don’t think I won a single game and I always ended up with half of the deck in my hands.” Hypnos rambled on. 

You never ever saw this man, not a single clue of what he looked like but you could picture it, a child scowling at the cards. 

“A family ‘game night’ brought up the memories of my horrible childhood and I decided to look up who created this game solely to torture me and me alone. So, my listener, if you haven’t driven us off a cliff yet, let me take you to a magical place called ‘Ohio’ in the year of 1971…”

The last thing you remembered was Hypnos’ outraged at the man who mortgaged his house for a mere eight thousands dollars - ‘shush, listener, I know it was the seventies and it worked out for them but still!’- and the way the golden light seemed to dip like honey.

Hypnos began speaking off topic something related to the game but his voice was faraway now, a quiet murmuring that flowed like the river lethe.

You didn’t remember closing your eyes.

~

When you woke up, you had dried drool on your chin with no idea what time or day it was. It was dim inside and it felt like you had been sleeping forever. Your mind was sluggish and it actually took you a moment to sit up. 

Your phone was on the ground, Hypnos’ cheerful voice still going. You rubbed at your face as you tried to wake up. 

He was no longer talking about ‘Uno’. You weren’t sure what it was about but when Hypnos had said something about genitalia and heroin in the same sentence, you finally picked your phone up.

The episode was named ‘The Ballad of Sexual Dependency by Nan Goldin: post Stonewall art’ 

Then you saw the time. 

You had slept for a solid fifteen hours straight. 

Your phone was clinging to life with six percent left and you needed to pee and you felt your stomach growl, hunger sharp in you for the first time in months. You still felt lost in the fabric of time and space, your head heavy with sleep.

Hypnos was still talking, ranting about an art project that a teacher failed him on because it wasn’t showing Hypnos’ truest intentions.

“What does that mean? What the fuck-“ Hypnos ranted, his anger so genuine that you smiled. “Why spend hours telling me art is subjective then go tell me that-“

You never felt better.

~

A week or so later, Hypnos was spinned around in his wheely chair, sipping on his ice coffee, trying to decide if he wanted to rant about the elephant and their pinnae. He eyed his computer with about twenty tabs he had pulled on elephant ears as he kept spinning.

Monie was staring at him, or rather at the iced coffee in his hand. Her little white Pom tail swayed with hope.

“You can’t have this.” Hypnos informed his dog for the millionth time, still spinning even as the world was getting blurry. “You will die.” 

Monie only made her black eyes bigger and wetter and so much sadder because Hypnos loved her enough to make sure she didn’t kill herself with caffeine.

“I know Monie, no one’s life is harder than yours, you silly dog.”

He heard a ping, meaning his Patreon just got something. Hypnos stopped himself, dizzy as he tried to see what he got. He usually got a dollar or two here and there. So he could definitely get more coffee. 

Maybe even enough for some Taco Bell. He was a big dreamer afterall. He laughed to himself as he looked.

His face went numb, his coffee spilled over his lap as he stared open mouthed at the screen.

He was reading it wrong.

Right? Right.

He automatically picked Monie up so she couldn’t lick at the spilled coffee.

Oh gods.

Rubbing his eyes hard as he could with one hand, he leaned forward, Monie still held aloft as he stared like a fool.

A fat, whole ten grand. It had to be a mistake. He was sure of that.

Then Hypnos saw the message, no real name, just random numbers and letters. 

Just a simple ‘Thank you, Hypnos.’

~~~~~~

Fly high (HTTYD Au, Icelos' pov )

The day they lost Dad, all Icelos remembered was fire. Fire and screams in the dead of the night, the black smoke of dragon fire hid even the stars. Her father’s scream of anguish was louder than even the mightiest dragon roar.

She remembered crying, her twin’s face was a mirror of her own pain.

It was the day they lost their Father too, a proud man who left as a hollowed out ancient tree after a great fire, one that still stood, blackened and ruined.

~

The few scraps of information that Icelos got about her Dad came from others, an off hand comment here or there from Achilles or a neighbor. They had uncles and aunts from their Dad’s side but they never visited anymore.

Icelos wondered often if they blame her father for what happened. 

Sometimes she wanted to write to them, her neat penmanship messy from her anger, to let them know, their stones of guilt were mere pebbles to the world that her Father carried.

She never did.

Instead she hoarded the few bit of her dad that she could.

’Your Dad had the worst sweet tooth I have ever seen, especially with honeyed goods.’ That had come from the baker, after waving a wooden spoon at Morpheus for taking a third helping of hard honey.

‘I still expect to see him napping on the porch.’ Achilles had remarked to Patroclus once, not realizing that Icelos was still in earshot.

And when she was younger, she found books tucked away in a box, many with notes inside an unfamiliar handwriting. It had been the mentions of her Father’s name along with ‘my husband’ that she realized it must be her Dad who wrote these.

She devoured every last one, reading the off hand comments and the bad jokes - so many that it reminded her of Morpheus- to some akin to worship. Icelos thought maybe if she listened hard enough, she would hear him like a lost god murmuring her ears.

Father rarely spoke of Hypnos, although sometimes Icelos caught how Father would watch them sometimes, like he saw someone else. His harsh demeanor softened for a moment.

Icelos wanted to ask him, what did he see? 

Was Dad there in the curve of Morpheus’ cheesy grin, or the way her twin brother would find a perfect patch of afternoon sun to nap in like a cat? 

Was it Photobtor and his eyes, perfect honey gold even in the dark of the night?

She had wanted to ask, perhaps more than anything, did she have anything from Hypnos that none of the others had? Something that was purely theirs. Hypnos and Icelos.

Father always turned away before Icelos found her courage, his broad shoulders just slumped ever so slightly.

Unwillingly, their dad had become a shade in their lives, or something so mystical that it would ruin the house if spoken aloud. Or maybe it would just burn away at the last remaining bit of their father, causing him to fall like an old tree, wood too rotten even for warmth in the cold, lonely night.

~

Icelos was so startled by how warm the dark scales of her night fury felt underneath her palm that her breath hitched. The dragon closed its eyes, completely trusting Icelos.

She let out a breathless laugh. Tears burning in her eyes.  

If her Father could see her now…

She looked down at the trusting beast, its hot breath gentle on her skin. 

He could never know.

~

So of course, Father found out a week later.

But there wasn't time, she had to save her best friend, her father and her grandparents, to show her brothers, everyone what it meant to really fly.

What she remembered wasn’t the flames reaching up for her. It was the determination in her night fury’s eyes. 

Sometimes Icelos wondered if she actually heard her Father’s voice, screaming out her name.

~

After everything, years later with dragons flying in the cold skies of winter, it was Icelos that Father brought to the clan meetings. 

She stayed quiet, standing by his elbow as he dealt with clan matters of hunting, food storage, supplies for homes and the construction of new pathways. There were disputes to settle between the clan members- land rights, cattle and so on- and there were so many countless little things that she never thought about before. 

Her Night Fury had fallen asleep about five minutes in and Icelos never felt such envy before.

When the last of the villagers left, her Father sighed heavily.  “I don’t suppose your dragon won’t mind adding to the fireplace for us?”

“What?” Icelos yelped, waking up her dragon who huffed at her. “But what else is there to do?”

Father smiled grimly as he nodded toward the books on the table. “We shall start with the fun stuff first. We have to go through the incident reports- your dragons are a little too enthusiastic about helping then we have the petitions, expense reports, contracts, reports or requests for help from other clans, livestocks records and so on.”

Icelos moaned in pain as she fell backward into a chair, rubbing her face. Her dragon grumbled at her, sending a burst of flames toward the fireplace. 

“My thanks.” Her father told the dragon, taking a large piece of dried jerky from the table and tossed it. Her nightfury snapped it up greedily, purring in pleasure.

”Father, must we?” Icelos glanced over the piles of books. Was this why she didn’t see her Father until late in the evening? Her knee ached, the false leg cold against her skin. 

She used to like winter but as the weather got deeper and she got older, she found herself not enjoying it as much as she did in her youth.

Icelos shifted and somehow her dearest friend knew, pressing its warm body against her leg, resting their heavy head on her lap. She gave them a pat on their head.

Father approached her, his brow furrowed. “Is your leg bothering you?”

”Yeah but I want to stay.” Icelos said firmly, straightened her back as she met her Father’s hard stare. She kept her head high, not glancing away like someone else might have from her father. 

She may be older now but a single glance from those eyes could still make her feel little like a girl with her hand in the cookie jar.

For a long moment, Icelos thought he would order her to go home but he just nodded, pulling out a leather flask from his cloak. When he poured her a small drink of ale, she nearly went bug-eyed. Father was a hard ass about his kids drinking hard liquor.

”Just this once.” He told her with a wry glance. She thought she almost saw a rare smile. “For the leg. Don’t tell your brothers.” 

Icelos nodded, suddenly feeling very grown up with her drink and paperwork.

After a deep drink for himself, Father brought the books closer to her along with papers and quills. She didn’t have to do any of the paperwork yet but he went over each piece of information carefully, telling her the context and exactly why it mattered. 

It was late in the night when they were done. Icelos slumped in her chair and she watched with heavy eyes as Father placed the paperwork away. 

“Do you know why I chose you?” Father said abruptly, causing Icelos to wake up a little. After a moment, she gave him a goofy smile.

”My neat handwriting?” She guessed, not sure where he was going with that. He huffed, an almost laugh.

”No.” he told her, returning to stand next to her. He placed a large, warm hand on her shoulder. His expression shifted, unreadable in the firelight. “You remind me so much of your dad.”

Icelos blinked, her lips parting but no sounds came out. How long had it been since she last heard Father speak of Hypnos, the shade that haunted their lives? The one that Father still seemed to look for sometimes. 

Father was no longer looking at her, staring into the fire. “Your dad wasn’t suited for leadership but he knew how to… keep me grounded, to make sure I didn’t lead with an ax in my hand and damnation in the other.”

Icelos only nodded, too stunned to speak. She gave her confused dragon a pet on the head, the smooth scales comforting her. 

“You have the best of him. He knew how to stay cheerful even in the darkest times, he was gentle even if he couldn’t help but make smart comments, especially to me.” Father continued, his voice was so quiet, so hopelessly fond. 

Years and years later, he still sounded like he was in love. “Just like you.”

”Oh.” Icelos swallowed, tears forming unwillingly. She didn’t want to cry because if she did, Father might stop.

”You could be a great leader for our clan, Icelos. You have his gentle heart but my iron hand. The fact you already unified our clan and the dragons is only the tip of the iceberg of far you could go.” Father turned back to her, his eyes watchful.

And maybe she was imagining it in her sleep deprivation but- he looked proud. Of her.

She nodded, trying to appear like a leader. She wanted that desperately, to fit in the role her father gave her. “I want to be great. For you and dad.” 

“You already are.” He said, squeezing her shoulder gently.

~

Icelos thought she was going mad. 

Her body was shaking, her breathing kept hitching sharply. Her Night Fury let Icelos braced herself against them, their eyes locked on the pair before her.

A Light Fury was glaring at them, their teeth bared but the man next to the dragon didn’t move, didn’t breath.

How often had Icelos seen those white curls, those golden eyes reflected back in the mirror?

Faintly she heard a noise. Soft and broken. 

Then she realized it came from her twin. Morpheus was shocked into silence, his harsh breathing the only thing hint to his anger, to his pain while Phobetor watched with an hesitant expression. 

“Oh my little starlights.” Hypnos said quietly. the once shade, the ghost that haunted their home, that broke her father beyond repair, smiled warmly. 

His sunlit eyes were bright with tears. “It really is you. All of you.”

Just like that, Icelos and everything she thought she knew fell apart.

~

In the chaos of everything, Icelos had tried to plan for how Dad and Father were going to be reunited after she fixed the issues with the alpha dragon and the bastard keeping other dragons locked up. 

Only for Father to come looking for his lost ducklings. His stormcutter, an old king like her father, has swept in the hiding place with a liquid grace. 

There was no chance to warn him.

Icelos waited for the rage, for the hurt to spill forward like the flames of a Monstrous Nightmare. 

It was clear that Hypnos was doing the same, his shoulders tight, arms crossed over his chest. Father was staring at Hypnos like he couldn't believe he was really there, like he was seeing a ghost. 

Her father was rarely surprised, the only other time she had seen this was when he had caught her riding her beloved dragon. Then he flew in a rage unlike anything she had ever seen.

For painfully long moments, the silence grew. The heaviness of it barring down on her shoulders. 

“I would welcome you to my humble domicile but you didn't even knock.” Hypnos quipped, his voice was airy but Icelos heard the tension in it, a bird’s racing heartbeat. “Just like our wedding night. No manners whatsoever.”

Icelos knew she looked bugged eyed just like her brothers, no one had ever spoken to their father like that. Not even their most ferocious enemies.

Father stepped closer, his eyes locked onto Hypnos. Hypnos swallowed, but didn't look at him, eyes on Father's chest. 

Slowly as if Hypnos was more mist than flesh, Father touched his chin and lifted his head up, studying every line and curve of his husband's face.

Father looked raw, like something made new. His expression tender as a heartbreaking smile broke across his face, his eyes shining. He was about to cry, Icelos realized.

“You're as beautiful as the day I lost you.” His voice was low, rough and so in love. Hypnos gasped, his face crumbling with tears.

They embraced, clinging together so tightly not even the gods could part them now. 

Hypnos was sobbing, his words spilling out of him in a rush. Father was shushing him, his own mighty form shaking as he cupped the back of Hypnos’ head.

At that point, Phan touched her shoulder, jerking his head toward a different, far away area. Icelos nodded, realizing that the other two had already left, giving their parents some privacy.

Later, Icelos dangled her feet off the edge, smiling as her night fury chased the light fury. She had a suspicion her dragon was madly in love but she won't tease them just yet. 

Morpheus had taken off, needing to lick his own wounds, still hurt and angry at their dad. Her twin was speaking to Phobetor of what happened that night. 

He had been far too young the night it happened. 

And Icelos… 

She watched from high above,a stolen moment in the gentle lights, the soft greenery of the cave as her parents swayed together. 

Their voices were too low, too far away but they looked happy, even with tears marks on their cheeks. 

Maybe it was too soon, everything still too raw by the scraping of lost years on their souls but somehow she knew this would be for the better.

~~~~~~

Decisions (Reincarnation au)

Hypnos woke up alone, his cheeks stained with tears. He sniffed, rubbing his face as he sat up. His wings fluttered against his hands. The blanket was spilling off of him and onto the floor.

It was already fading, whatever it was that brought him to tears although the familiar grief lingered in his chest.

Waking up like this was something that just happened sometimes. Hypnos wondered if he would ever get used to it. If he even should get used to it.

”You’re crying.” His captain’s voice was low, gravelly as the bed dipped under your weight. 

“Was. Now I am at the gross snotty phase.” Hypnos corrected, shifting as you pulled him into your arms. Hypnos sighed, tucking his head under your chin. Humans were so much warmer than his species, their bodies hot as a pure summer day.

His wings flared out and lifted up, the tips kissing your cheeks as a greeting. You turned your head, nuzzling against one, and Hypnos couldn’t hide his smile. He loved that his captain tried to mimic his species’ sign of affection with his own human ones.

Your hand rubbed up and down his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hypnos hummed low in his chest, thinking about it. 

It was no secret that you had oftentimes disliked the other versions of you. Your born calloused, possessive and beastly nature against the civilized knight of your mind were often at war with each other. 

Sometimes the knight won, other times it was the beast. Sometimes they coexisted. 

Hypnos didn’t have the heart to tell you that you still carried such behaviors even now. 

Your large hand spread over Hypnos’ lower back when someone else looked a little too long, the way you would dipped your head to listen to him, the adoring nips on his vulnerable neck as you worshiped him like an pagan and their god. 

Beast and man, always at war with each other.

“I don’t agree with some of the choices I- the other me made. I understand but I don’t agree. I think.” Hypnos sighed. He wiggled in your lap until he could look at you. “How do you deal with it?”

“I call them -or myself- a worthless bastard and try to move on. Can’t change it now.” You said, trying to lighten the mood like Hypnos often did.

Hypnos nodded slowly, then decided he didn’t want to think about it. He silded his wings behind your head, pulling you down for a greedy kiss. Your hands squeezed his waist, pulling his slender body flushed against yours.

Later, tangled together like vines and dozing, Hypnos mused on cycles, death and birth, the ebbs and flows of time until his eyes grew heavy and he returned to the realms of dreams.

~~~~~~

Dappled lights (a quiet world au)

In one life, there was a butterfly with gleaming red wings, fluttering slowly on top of a single daisy as it ate. 

It was unaware of the other butterfly watching them, admiring the shine and artwork that was their existence in the golden lights.

They will only have two weeks together, a mere blink in the eyes of gods but for them it was forever and a day.

In this life, one was a wolf, born with a deadly grace and teeth that gleamed. The other was a lost half breed, their fur soft as snow. They ran together under the moon, eyes shining and tongue lolling, they were light and darkness side by side.

When one had to leave, the other followed, curled around their mate in their small den. 

Another, so short was the lives of mayflies, only here for a moment but they fell together.

in this one, they were oak saplings, growing together side by side. Their branches grew out as they got taller. One stopped, unable to grow anymore but the other, healthy and strong, grew the branches downward until they met, tangled together forevermore.

Just one more ( it is always just more life together, just more one moment then they would be satisfied. They never are) 

But just one more, a sheep and its guard dog, bloodied to save their beloved companion. 

But just one more, two sparrows and their wings lifted by the winds, the sun shining down on them.

Just one more, one was fire and the other was fuel.

One more, an impossible, empty sea and a life giving river met, a line marking where they kissed.

One. it was the sun, warm and golden and the other was the cool, dark earth. Life bloomed wherever the sun caress them.

More. They were void and the other was everything.

Again?

Time was a flat circle, reality was infinite and they spun and spun around, laughing as they kissed.

Again.