#at least I got on T. That's nice. Might lose that when I lose my insurance. I'll need to get another full time job again. I'm struggling wit

[theood]

I keep one habit I lose three more. I try to get better, five things go wrong in my life and someone dies again, I try to do good, I do everything wrong. I get a job, I feel miserable, I push through, I feel worse.

The cycle repeats and repeats and repeats. Nothing changes. Nothing will ever change because this is all there is to life for me. It's going to be this, and then I'll die.

I'm never even going to get out of this house. It's been worse since we moved here. There's nothing here. I'm going to fucking rot away here and no one will know or care because in the grand scheme of it, I am so fucking unimportant and worthless and I take up more space than I'm worth

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 1

Moniker: Soap Risk Level: Low. Soap is a part-time resident who is detained as needed. He is currently not detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Oral sex, “69”ing. Note Soap has biologically female genitalia with an enlarged clitoris or “t-cock”. He accepts feminine and masculine terms for this. Safeword: The word RED is to be used by any party if at any point the session must stop. If any party is unable to vocalise they are to signal physically by touching their thumb to each of their fingers in sequence to signify RED. At no point should any party be both unable to vocalise and unable to signal physically. In the event that this happens, RED will be considered in action and the session will be stopped.

Thought losing your virginity on the first day might scare you off so I’ve shuffled the plan around. You’ve spoken with Soap before, helped him diffuse a bomb on the Medusa mission. He’s insistent you got along so hope having him first helps settle your nerves. I’m on cameras for this one, so I’ve got your back - Price

Well fuck you sideways, your first sexual experience with another person and Captain John Price was going to be watching. You don’t know how he thought that was supposed to settle your nerves. The poor paper that briefing was on had been twisted to pieces in your nervous hands as you made your way to the room. This was where you’d go everytime, this was where you worked. You’d seen it once and Kate had stressed that it would be thoroughly sanitized and reset after each use to fit whatever purpose it needed to. She further stressed that anybody who entered this room had been tested for any transmittable diseases, sexual, blood borne or otherwise, and would only be permitted entry if they came back clean. That wasn’t terrifying at all.

Did you knock? That would be the polite thing to do. Well the correct thing to do at least, Soap was a Sergeant and while the ranks were different in your service your equivalent would be somewhere around Corporal, a rank beneath him. Did he remember you or did Price just know as his Captain that you had spoken before?

The door opened and you about had a heart attack as Soap stood grinning before grabbing your wrist and yanking you through. You had sort of pictured him as handsome because he had a nice voice, but you hadn’t expected him to be so damn broad. Bomb specialists tended to be a little more wirey in your experience.

“Price said ye were out there having a moment, but I’ve only got the day with ye so cannae be wasting time.”

The room did not look as it had when you had visited it. It was warmer now, more welcoming. The raised platform in the middle had a big bed on it with a soft looking duvet. You couldn’t help but smile seeing all the bedclothes were tartan. So the soldier of the day had some say then.

“Right, first off cannae believe I get ye first. I bitched Price’s ear off but didnae think I had a chance. Very, very grateful tae my bonnie Captain for naw ignoring me though” he said, loudly announcing his thanks and sending a grin to the camera in the corner. “I ken ye probably have a bundle of nerves rioting in that pretty stomach, but ye need tae get over them and get over them fast because I need tae winch your cunt.”

You started choking as a gasp caused saliva to go down the wrong pipe. He laughed and patted your back, or at least he started on your back but his hand very much wandered to your ass and squeezed, hard.

It was a knee jerk reaction. You didn’t fully catch up to what your body had even done until you saw the blood streaming from his nose. Shit. You thought for sure Price was about to march in here and give you a dressing down for punching his solider in the face on your first day as a glorified sex toy.

“S-sorry! I wasn’t expecting you to… I mean I know that’s why I’m here, it was instinct” you blurted, getting increasingly panicked at the feral glint in his eye as he rubbed a hand across his nose which only served to smear the blood everywhere.

“Look at the camera for me hen, aye that’s it. Now tell Price that nice wee safeword so he kens ye remember it. The non-verbal version too.”

You shakily followed his instruction, freaked out at how calm and warm his voice was when his eyes were still manic.

“That should dae it, aye Captain? All mine until ye safeword out now hen.”

He attacked you, no other way to describe it with how fast and violent he was in grabbing your face and shoving his tongue into your mouth. He was still bleeding and you could taste it, could feel it stick to your skin. It’s not like you had never kissed someone before, but you never realised just how another tongue could bully yours, writhing against it and pushing it around at it’s pleasure. Oh fuck, if that’s what it was doing in your mouth… an almost painful jolt shot to your clit and you jumped at the shock.

He led you backwards until you hit the bed and then his hands were gripping the back of your thighs so he could use a combination of strength and momentum to lift you a little and toss you back onto the bed. You stared at him as his mouth broke of from yours with the movement. His face was a mess, blood and saliva coating his lips and chin even as the fresh blood had started to slow from his nose.

“Fucking need this hen” he said, almost a keening whine, as he shoved your legs apart and buried his face between them. “Been dying of thirst, ye need tae drown me.”

It was overwhelming just how desperate he seemed and you were shocked and embarrassed at the whimper that spilled from you when he started to lick and chew on the seam of your jeans. The scrape of teeth through the thick fabric had you feeling your heartbeat throb through your clit and your legs were trying to close, you weren’t sure if it was to escape the sensation or chase it with friction, but he muscled his shoulders between them and gripped hard around your thighs so they were locked open.

“Think ye can soak through them? I can make ye soak through them, fuck” he groaned, kissing and tonguing your jeans like he had your mouth.

It was so erotic and so wrong, he was leaving them marked with blood and spit and you felt powerless to do anything about it. You didn’t know if you were getting wet over it and you fisted the duvet below, the urge to run your fingers under your jeans and panties and check flooding through you. It was as if he knew because the next moment he was pressing the pads of two fingers hard against your opening over the jeans, but it was enough. Your panties grabbed onto the slick that had pooled around your hole and it was like a dam breaking, suddenly you could feel it everywhere.

“I-I-” you started, not actually sure what you needed but needing something.

“Nae patience eh?” he said, lifting his head to peer up at you, the picture of some decadent predator feasting on his prey. “Say please.”

“Please?”

“Say please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

You felt like your cheeks had just become about equal to the surface of the sun in terms of heat. You had listened to fucking torture sessions to gather intel but dirty talk from this bloodied creature was the thing that tied your tongue up? There was almost an anger at yourself over it. No wonder you were a fucking virgin if you couldn’t even handle this, they should have chosen one of the confident candidates who would already have made demands of him.

“Naw, stop thinking hen. Please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt” he repeated expectantly, keeping his eyes on you even as his head turned and he nipped his teeth into the meat of your thigh.

“…please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

He was about ready to cum from hearing you say that particular nickname so sweetly.

“Good lass” he said, planting a kiss where he had just sunk his teeth and wasting no time undoing the button on your jeans and peeling them down your legs, his eyes taking in everything underneath them on the way. “That all for me?”

You had forgotten the prep you had done over the last week. Hairless, smooth, soft. It hadn’t been a plan so much as a mad evening of bathing, shaving and nearly drowning yourself in scented oils and lotions in some sort of panic. Lingerie that you had nearly bailed on because it was so delicate and lacy and see through that it felt a level of sensual you weren’t confident in pulling off was now on full display for him and the fabric was so thin that your arousal was making it cling lewdly.

“Aye, think that’s all for me” he grinned as your jeans hit the floor with a thunk.

Fuck he was a sight. He looked like he had just been tearing into a carcass. You had around 5 seconds to take a breath and try prepare before his head was back between your legs. You didn’t realise how much the jeans had muted the sensations, but now with barely a scrap of thin fabric between your pussy and his mouth you saw stars. There was a scream that you vaguely realised was coming from you. His hair was so soft in your fingers, you felt delirious almost as you mumbled out a question about what conditioner he used and then about died when he chuckled right against your clit before he pulled back and ever so slowly pulled your panties off.

“Fuck that’s pretty” he commented before bringing your panties to his nose and rubbing them against his nostrils.

It broke some of the congealing blood, caused a little trickle to start up again. He didn’t seem to care and after another huff neatly, reverently folded your panties and placed them on a little table at the side. Your shirt he was quick with and showed less care, it going flying to rest on the floor a few inches from your jeans.

“These are pretty too hen, if Price wouldnae gie me a spanking for going off brief I’d fuck them” he said as he squeezed your tits together. “Just a wee taste.”

A wee taste here meant him crushing your tits together so he could suck both nipples into his mouth with such force you bowed off of the bed and felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your bra was taken off and folded with the same reverence your panties had been, placed on the table with pink marks on the cups from that little trickle of blood. Most of the blood around his mouth was gone now, only a pink tinge left among all the spit and arousal.

“Ye ever cum for anyone else before?”

“I… no. I mean I’ve done it myself. Or with stuff to help.”

“Price remind me tae blow you later!”

With that he latched on your swollen clit. At first he suckled, humming as he did which drove you fucking mad. Then he pulled off with a slurp, gathered more wetness from your hole on his tongue and drooled it back on your clit. The tip of his tongue flicked at it rapidly, ramping up in speed as your body coiled tighter and tighter.

The noises were erotically disgusting, wet. You tried to tug his hair to get him to let up because you were going to explode, his writhing tongue was about to send you right over the edge.

“S-stop, gonna cum” you panted, trying to hold on.

“That’s the idea hen.”

“The brief said you wanted to… do other things?”

“Aye?”

He had stopped at least and your body was slowly stepping back from the cliff which felt awful. But the brief said he wanted to “69” so you couldn’t cum this early. You just looked down at him debauched between your legs, waiting for him to move on to the next part.

“When ye play with this fat pussy, dae ye stop at one?”

You felt a little panicked at his question. Theoretically, you knew people with your anatomy could have multiple orgasms. In practice you usually just got off and left it at that. It didn’t feel good to keep touching when you were so sensitive after cumming anyway. You sort of shrugged in response.

“Oh hen, you’re going tae gie me 2 like this, 2 when I eat ye from the back and then we can move on so you can have a taste of me. Thinking at least 3 while your lips are wrapped around my cock.”

“I- what? I don’t think I can have that many.”

“Thought I told ye tae stop thinking?” he said with a wink before he dove back in.

If you thought he was giving you his best before, you were quickly disabused of that notion. It took him around 5 seconds. His mouth latched onto you and his tongue eagerly abused your clit without any respite. You rocketed right back to that edge and went tumbling off, thrashing on the bed while he just pinned your hips down and kept going. Your pussy clenched in waves that seemed to never fucking stop.

It was uncomfortable when the orgasm was done but you were still being stimulated and you tried again to shove him away, but fuck he was strong. He refused to be moved, lapping messily at you with a desperation that gave you goosebumps.

“Stop, I can’t!”

“Ye fucking can” he barked back, teeth scraping on your now very oversensitive clit in warning. “Now get your legs up.”

He shoved upwards with his shoulders while his hands forced your legs back, bending you in half. Your hips were tilted now, both of your holes so fully on display for him that it made some undignified sound of humiliation come from you.

He feasted. No part of you escaped him - he licked the seams where your legs met your torso, he sucked on your lips and you wondered if they would bruise with lovebites, he lapped at your rim and had you screeching when he bullied his tongue in, only stopping when a beep sounded in the room.

“Aww fuck off Captain, her arse is fair game for oral!”

Another beep.

“Killjoy. Sorry hen, nae rest for your delicious wee cunt.”

You knew the tongue was a dexterous muscle, but fuck it was insane how he managed to get so much of it inside your pussy. He massaged your walls, flattened and curled the appendage and then flicked it fast. The barest brush of his pinky on your clit was enough to set you off again. You were sure you were nearly pulling his hair out when you came and he drank it up like wine. Decadently, savouring.

His face was a wreck, strings of spit and cum connecting him to you and then snapping and dripping off when he moved his head further away. There was a little blood around his nose, the rest long gone from all the fluids helping to dilute it. You licked your lips only to taste iron. That was right, he may have gotten wet enough to soak it off, but his blood was still all over you.

Fuck he looked drunk. His eyes were unfocused and dreamy, a dopey smile on his face as he went to his knees and looked down at you splayed underneath him. There was a wet spot, a large one, on the duvet. You felt boneless, like you had run a marathon. You weren’t sure you could move. But despite that you couldn’t help but drag your eyes across his still clothed body.

The brief had said he had biologically female genitals, but that his clit was enlarged. You’d never heard of the term t-dick but now it was all you could think about. You wanted to make him feel the way you did, boneless and ready to sleep for two days straight.

“Ask me.”

“What?”

“Can see ye thinking away hen, ask me what it is you’re wanting tae.”

“Oh…” you said, trying to bring your fuzzy brain back online and be brave. “I want to see you. And uh… you know.”

He stripped his t-shirt off with one arm and it was like a damn porno as he tossed it on the floor.

“Cannae say I do hen, ye need tae tell me.”

You sighed in frustration and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Taste you. I want to taste you the way you tasted me.”

“Aye ye do. Still owe me 2 before that though.”

You shot up. He could not be serious. You were already about dead. He could not actually expect you to cum two more times before you even got to the next part of the briefing. You’d fucking die, you were sure of it. You snarled at him when he went to grab you and it was an actual fight.

Your wrestled with him, feeling the burn of something like humiliation whenever your pussy rubbed up somewhere on his body. At one point you tried to lock your legs around his torso, feeling like fireworks went off when you rubbed against the hair running down past the hem of his sweatpants. You squealed in alarm when he wrestled you off and it left a shining wet streak across his skin. You fought hard but you had no chance against him as he roughly got you over onto your knees and shoved hard between your shoulder blades to pin you to the bed.

Your hips wanted to follow, to collapse down, but he didn’t let them. He bullied his knees between yours to spread them and gripped hard onto your hips to give him control over exactly where your hot, wet cunt was. Perfect position for him to dig in.

Another beep.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and you whimpered when he wrenched your head up and turned it to the camera.

“Tell him ye still ken the safeword” he growled.

“I still know the safeword.”

His other hand cupped your slippery and unbearably tender cunt and gave a warning squeeze.

“You’ll remember yer manners soldier.”

“I still know the safeword, sir.”

Satisfied he pinned your head back to the mattress, returned his hand to your hip and maneuvered you so your hole was at just the right height for him.

He dug in.

Oh God, oh God from this angle anytime his mouth was at your clit the rest of his face was getting soaked by your gushing hole. He seemed so much closer now, like he was somehow inside you. His beard felt like it was ripping your lips apart and the prickly pins of pain were so sharp against the all consuming pleasure.

He was suctioned to you, only ever pulling of for a second to take a deep, gulping breath. There was a reluctance to breathe, to ever do anything but drink you down even if it meant he was half suffocating himself.

You tried to have any coherent thoughts about this. It was insane. You had signed up to help him get this out of his system but so far you were pretty sure you should be hiring him and not the other way around. You never knew this could be so all consuming, that your whole body would be so easily played by someone. You were at his mercy, every thump of your heart sending blood wherever the hell he decided it needed to go.

The next orgasm was powerful. It sent your body wild, your legs violently shaking and a choking scream fighting past your lips. You fucking hated him in that moment. He was so eagerly eating at your cunt, taking so much pleasure from it. It made you want it. You wanted to eat him out. You wanted to feel what he was feeling. But he wanted another orgasm from you first so he wasn’t stopping even with you screaming at him.

“Fuck you! I can’t go again, I can’t! Let me see you, let me taste you Johnny! It’s not fair!”

You’d lost any sense of shame. You think you might have lost any sense at all when you screamed your throat raw as your body fought the stimulation, tried and failed to get away so then just accepted it.

Cumming this time felt different. It was almost sore to have your muscles contract again, so exhausting you wanted to cry and beg to just sleep.

He slowed down, was gentle in cleaning you up with his tongue. When his grip on your hips loosened you collapsed to the bed, panting.

You could hear him taking his sweats off and it was the only thing to will you to turn yourself over onto your back. You needed to see him. You fucking needed it more than you needed anything as inconsequential as rest.

At first you felt like your brain was shorting out. He was standing at the end of the bed, now totally naked. His body was gorgeous, rugged. Your mouth watered as your eyes trailed down, following the path of hair to his pussy. He certainly hadn’t shaved in a panic like you had, the hair was just as thick between his legs as it was everywhere else. His fingers were lazily playing with his clit and you swore it was a cock.

It stood proudly through the thatch of dark hair, was dripping like you imagined a cock would. But that’s what it was. You understood now why the brief had called it a t-cock. Oh God you wanted to kiss, lick, suck - devour him the way he had you.

“Go on then hen, get that wet wee mouth on my cock” he said, his tone that of a man indulging the whims of some silly creature whose desperation he found cute.

You swallowed thickly, your body slow in moving through the exhaustion as you got to your knees and crawled across the bed to him. At first it was just a kitten lick, a little taste. Sweat, salt and something tangy and sweet. He was so slippery beneath your tongue and it was instinct to lap up the liquid, to keep chasing the strange taste.

“That’s it, good lass. There you go” he said, barely above a whisper as if coaxing some scared prey animal.

You shifted to get a more solid position, knees splaying wide to get you the right height and hands gripping his thick thighs. You needed to taste more, feel more. You fucking needed your mouth on him like you needed oxygen. You needed to drink down his arousal, the proof of what his body thought of yours.

He smiled down at you in tentative delight. You were so gone for this, all that trepidation vanished as you savoured the first tasting of him. No longer the shy thing that he had dragged into the room, now an animal understanding that the feast came before all. He knew the place you had went to couldn’t be permanent but while you were there he intended to enjoy it.

There was no skill in what you were doing, just a clumsy and selfish exploration. Your concept of time floated away as you treated his cunt and cock like the mouth of a stranger in the drunken haze of a club, wet, sloppy kisses against the heat of him.

He was dripping down your chin, the red around your mouth tinging pink and eventually being drowned entirely. His hands were massaging softly on your scalp, your shoulders. You wanted to stay here forever. He could not think of a compelling reason why not.

“Fuck, need tae get your taste back on my tongue” he groaned.

You barely registered your body being moved, only focused on keeping that connection to him. You wanted to crawl inside him, live there. Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs when you muscled your tongue inside his hole and felt the walls of him eagerly try to coax you deeper.

He maneuvered his body over yours and somewhere in the recesses of your brain you knew you should find this dangerous. He was big over you, could choose to drop his weight and smother you. Instead you found it comforting, like a warm nest for him to keep you safe and fed in.

“You’re so fucking pretty hen. Want tae keep you all tae myself.”

“You taste so good” you said, words muffled from the now insistent press of his wet cock on your face.

Everything was so wet, so hot. Touch yes, but scent and sound were both soaking, dripping, gushing. The first time he came you thanked him and begged him for more, more, more as your hips writhed up against his mouth.

--

You were sobbing when you came back online. You had been for a while from how tight your chest felt and the way your eyes stung with dryness. You were crying out broken words, begging him, saying you couldn’t.

“Ye can, one more. Just one more.”

Fuck, everything was tender and sore. No wonder you were such a wreck, your body was too wrung of pleasure that it could only give you pain now. He was relentless at your pussy and when you came this time it fucking hurt. Every muscle was cramping horribly.

“No more Johnny” you whined even as he ground his cock clumsily against your face and moaned through his own pained orgasm.

“Aye, one more. Need it hen, fuck. Could die in this pussy.”

You didn’t know how his tongue kept going, yours was useless now. You could only hold it out for him to rut against. You only knew he came again from how he howled. Your face was so covered in him that another flood barely registered. You really couldn’t anymore. You felt like you were about to die.

“Red.”

You mumbled it so softly and deliriously that you weren’t expecting anything to come of it, but he patted your flank and rolled off of you to lay on his back and pant.

“Jesus Christ hen, where the fuck did Price find you?” he said, voice hoarse and rough.

You couldn’t move. He didn’t seem mad at all that you had safe worded out at least. No, instead he pulled himself up with a long groan to flop down beside you.

“Gie me 20 minutes for a cuddle and a nap then I’ll get ye all cleaned up aye? I’ll let ye use my conditioner.”

And then he was snoring in your ear, his sweaty body wrapped around yours as you drifted off to unconsciousness.

—

Price was exhausted. He hadn’t intended to wank to you, but you had put those big, wet eyes on the camera and called him sir and then all bets were off. Christ alive the two of you had went for hours, writhing like animals on that bed.

He though after he had cum it would relief the pressure, but then you had so sweetly crawled over to lap at his boy’s cunt and he got hard all over again.

Soap certainly did owe him a blow job. You had been perfect for him, let him push his pleasure too far like he loved. And now there you both were boneless and passed out in puddles of arousal. He groaned imagining how the room must smell.

But he wasn’t needed. Soap was exhausted himself yes, but he enjoyed looking after a lover after such an intense experience and Price would not deprive him of that.

Part of him was tempted to change the plan, get you to one of the residents earlier, one of the ones who would ruin you so badly that you would need Price afterwards.

Thankfully, he was just about a good man when he dismissed the thought.

[strawbeelemonade]

We need more of spider punk❤️❤️❤️

ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS (Part 2!): Hobart brown

GIF by fizzytoo

SO many requests for this guy,,, i hope you like!

🕷 - hobbie likes watching you stand up for yourself.

🕷 - he knows you have spunk, no matter how deep down, it’s there.

🕷 - it thrills him to see you fight back, fills him with satisfaction. He will back you up in a heartbeat, no matter what it is he will fight with you and for you.

🕷 - he’ll fall back to back with you, you won’t have to worry when fighting along side him, let yourself go and spread CHAOS. He’s got your back

🕷 - he’s very deep thinking. He values your morals, your conviction and who you are in the face of hardships.

🕷 - He thinks real hard about what he chooses to put his faith in. And that includes you.

🕷 - he trusts you with his life.

🕷 - he’s a bit of a wanderer. There isn’t really a reliable routine he follows, so you might go a little while without seeing him.

🕷 - but don’t worry, he’ll always come back to you. He won’t leave you lonely for too long, gorgeous.

🕷 - he’ll pay you random visits just because!

🕷 - and by that I mean he’ll let himself in.

🕷 - its not uncommon for him to show up in the middle of the night, and if your not asleep, he offers to sneak you out for a few hours of fun.

🕷 - It’s alright, beautiful/handsome, there’s no safer place then by his side.

🕷 - If you live here, you’ll know that the UK can get pretty cold, especially at night. he’ll lend you his jacket if he catches you shivering

🕷 - Hobie will take you to concerts. You’re his first choice.

🕷 - he’s got a lot of connections and he can get you in easily.

🕷 - if you think he is anywhere other than right in the front then you are CRAZY. and he wants you right there with him.

🕷 - the music is so loud it’ll shoot through your chests, filling both your senses. sharing that exhilaration with you means a lot to him.

🕷 - he keeps you close to him the whole time, and makes sure you don’t get too roughed up by the other people around you.

🕷 - If it all gets too much don’t worry, he knows a cushy spot in the rafters away from all the people, and its a great view.

🕷 - when Hobie’s the one on stage he’ll be looking for you in the crowd

🕷 - he plays better when your there

🕷 - knowing your eyes are on him makes him more bold.

🕷 - don’t take your eyes off of him. Don’t you dare look away. He wants to see your face.

🕷 - he’s on the run a lot, so he’ll need to crash at your place often to lay low.

🕷 - “thanks, doll. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

🕷 - if you play guitar he will play solo’s with you

🕷 - if you don’t know how to play he’ll sit behind you and rest his hands over your own, pressing your fingers into the right chords.

🕷 - his chest pressing in to your back are the least of your worries, though. His breathe is hot and his lips are soft. And, oh! your cheek and jaw, which are his favourite places to kiss, are completely exposed.

🕷 - good luck.

🕷 - he’ll give you piggy back rides.

🕷 - wrap your arms around him as tightly as you want. He doesn’t mind. his hair might tickle your face as he turns his head to give you a peck on the cheek, though.

🕷 - when you both sleep next to each other you won’t have to worry about his hair getting in your face. He’ll wear a wrap.

🕷 - his hair is NICE in the movie. those wicks were P R I S T I N E

🕷 - if you play with the little baby hairs poking out from the bundle then he’ll be all over you I bet he’d love that.

🕷 - if he loses his wrap then he might use his mask in a pinch. It’d be really fun if the inside was lined with silk just to keep his hair nice.

🕷 - If he sleeps in that then your gonna have to put something on the spikes to stop them from poking you 😭

🕷 - "nah fam i am not sticking marhsmellows on my head."

🕷 - Honk shoo

🕷 - he will pierce you ears for you.

🕷 - he knows how to sew. mending clothes are more cost effective, and punks have been DIYing outfits since the very beginning.

🕷 - if you don't know how, he can hem or mend your clothes. like i don't he he knows just surface level knowledge either. Hobbie is IN the sewing community

🕷 - he'd get zesty with it too!

🕷 - yeah, he could sew your clothes to look good as new, but have you seen visible decorative mending? there are so many ways to get creative with mending- his personality would really shine through in his work.

🕷 - your favourite pair of jeans that used to have a hole in the knee are now fixed, but with am embroidered spider web spriraling outwards.

🕷 - this is an example of how incredibly thoughtful he is. he spends lots of time and love to turn something broken into something new. and thats one of the ways he'll show you he loves you.

🕷 - you won't really ever be questioning if he loves you though.

🕷 - he's blunt. he'll let you know.

🕷 - tee hee

🕷 - Hobart doesn’t really get Jealous.

🕷 - But he LOVES rubbing your relationship in any clueless suitor’s face when he gets the chance.

🕷 - after watching the movie I am 100% certain that he is willing to clock someone over the head for you.

🕷 - intimidation tactics work great to ward off most creeps. But some people need a demonstration.

🕷 - his hand will snake around your lower tummy or waist, and he pulls you flush against himself

🕷 - he’d lean down to whisper “is this one bothering you?”. Real quietly so no one else can hear.

🕷 - if your friends with Hobart, your friends with Pavitr.

🕷 - and if your dating Hobart, then your basically gonna date him too LMAO

🕷 - Pav thinks you're both so cute! You have his full support. He is INVESTED. The moment he sees you after rough housing with Hobie he gasps! Hello you!

🕷 - he’s all over you.

🕷 - Pav thinks you’re a sweetheart. If Hobie isn’t there you can count on him to have your back.

🕷 - I’ve said this before but he’s canonically got a good read on people, and that’s probably especially so for his best friend.

🕷 - and so he sees how happy you make him. Pav absolutely treasures you.

🕷 - Chances are you'll end up getting close with Gwen too! she stays over in other universes since her situation back in her own isn't great. you guys end up hanging out because of it and ya'll grow close.

[rkvriki]

things enha does for you !

hey guys!!! after tha one last fic im back to soft content lolz. i got this idea when i was in class so excuse me if its crappy tho! this one is a lil smoll :')

make sure to leave feedback. my requests are open and so is my talk box so let's talk!

WARNINGS ! undertones of being naked and sunoo watching its all sfw so dont worry!! might contain grammar errors!

word count: 1k

LEE HEESEUNG !

— makes you homemade gifts

heeseung is pretty good at everything, so once in his life decides to make good use of it outside of his job.

heeseung loves giving you gifts, most of them expensive pieces of clothing or even random plushies he wins when he goes to the arcade with the other boys, but is there anything more meaningful than a gift he made himself?

he makes so many handmade things but his favorite thing to do is scrap books. he tries to collect his favorite pics with you every month and he puts them in a scrapbook with cute and sweet handwritten messages.

he loves seeing your wide smile as you scan every picture he chose, remembering each day like it was yesterday.

PARK JONGSEONG !

— leaves you notes or flowers 

he does this almost everyday or at least when he stays over at yours and he even has special cute and decorated post its just for you :’)

sometimes he will notice that you might be feeling a little more down or stressed with school/work so he waits for you to fall asleep before he leaves after writing a heartfelt note and sticking it somewhere he knows you’ll see it.

or sometimes jay just feels like treating you nicely so he sends your favorite flowers with a postcard to your house or office.

it all just makes you feel so giddy and soft on the inside, you love how much he shows affection to you in all kinds of ways.

SIM JAKE !

— is present in the most important moments

being from abroad is hard and jake knows that because he also came from a different country, so when knows his s/o isn’t from korea he tries to make up for the fact you don’t have anyone like family members around to supporto you.

when you have important presentations he will be in the audience cheering for you with the biggest smile on his face.

most of the times he does this are surprises, you never know when to expect seeing him there and you would bawl your eyes out if you weren’t in front of so many people.

when you have your first job interview he will take you to where it’s going to take place and he will wait outside and when you come out will tell you that you did good no matter what results are gonna be.

PARK SUNGHOON !

— writes you letters expressing himself

i feel like sunghoon is really shy when it comes to expressing his feelings, although it doesn’t stop him from telling you he loves you every day.

every week he writes you a letter in neat and pretty handwriting, sometimes just telling you how he is feeling lately, other times talking about how much he loves you and how afraid he is of losing you.

he puts every feeling there is in him in the paper, always writing you more than one sheet of paper. After you read all of them you alway call him and you both talk about it, which makes him shy and his ears turn red.

you keep every letter in a box in a place only you and him know and you always read them when you miss him when he’s away.

KIM SUNOO !

— prepares you a spa day/bath

we all know sunoo is all about self care with all the skin care he does and the vitamins he takes and now it’s also a habit of yours thanks to him.

he loves taking care of you when he feels like you aren’t doing it, unable to do it either from stress or just being busy with your life.

when those situations happen, he never fails to surprise you when you come home with a warm bubbly bath in your bathroom, now candle lit.

he asks you to get in the tub as he leaves to get you more things.

he comes back with a huge variety of skin care for you to choose and prepares you your favorite light drink.

when you come out of the shower he will have you laying in the bed and will give the best back massage you’ll ever get, breaking all the knots in you, finishing off with kisses all over your back and face making you giggle.

YANG JUNGWON !

— takes time to celebrate important dates

jungwon loves planning things for you, especially your birthday. even though it makes him wanna rip his hair off he makes all the efforts to make it the best birthday party you could ever have.

literally no one can talk to him during the weeks he is planning it because he is so stressed that he will snap at someone unintentionally (he apologizes later, poor won)

he will plan it almost a month earlier to make sure everything is perfect. he look for the best bakeries around and tries to find the best rooftop to have the party.

he contacts every single one of your friends trying not to forget to invite anyone.

then the worts part comes, the present to give you. jungwon knows so much about you, almost every little detail, but one thing he doesn’t know is what to give you in your birthday, even if you reassure him he is the best present >-<

all the stress his worthy when he sees your teary eyes smile at the big party.

NISHIMURA RIKI !

— spends quality time with you

being an idol takes a lot of someone’s time and niki tries to use every second he had of free time to be with you since he’s always in and out of the country and he knows you hate being alone.

niki takes you everywhere you possibly can go. you go hiking, you go to amusement parks, to the movies, trying out restaurants, just anywhere.

he’s always up to try new things with you and sometimes he might bring the other boys along or you bring your friends, but it’s very rare to happen.

he always takes his digital camera, taking pictures of you when you aren’t looking, which he ends up showing you making you complain of how bad you look and he just glares at you.

sometimes you just go to quiet places and enjoy each other presence, like going to parks in the middle of the nowhere, where it’s just the two of you being two fools in love.

© rkvriki 2023, do not copy or translate my works, please.

[louisaland]

SVU Season 16-17 rewatch

Season 16 is really good as a way to get to know the characters if, like me, you stopped watching after Season 12 ended and weren’t sure if it was worth continuing with.

I am very glad I did!

Amaro is just Stabler 2.0, as far as I can tell, but with a little more self-awareness as he realises he needs anger management classes and realises he needs to get out of the force for his physical and mental well-being and that of his kids. 

Olivia was obviously very attached to him, so I felt bad for her as she just keeps losing people. Working with Amaro evidently helped her get over Elliot leaving, and it seems like her relationship with Amaro was healthier than the one she had with Elliot. 

Amaro’s been linked romantically to Amanda, I believe? They are very similar from their upbringing and the way they internalise everything, so I c1n see why they would be drawn to each other.

When the two of them are talking/working  together and Carisi comes to give them some info/an update and they simultaneously answer that he’s not interrupting was funny. 

There’s a courtroom scene where Amanda is being questioned/cross-examined and she is asked about doing the right thing/having enough emotional support/what it means to be a good person and she’s looking in Carisi’s general direction. Very subtle, but made me squee!

I love that he hangs out with her and Fin outside of work, at the video games convention. Fin is still calling him noob/newbie at this point, so perhaps Rollins invited him? Those two always know all the celebrity gossip and who the famous people they need to talk to are. It ties in nicely to their later hang outs where they watch trashy reality TV together. Carisi I can see reading all his sister’s magazines and going to the movies with them to watch rom-coms growing up, as he seems to know a lot about them/says he loves them in the ep with the former teen actress and the producer.

Do we ever get the story about how Sonny was saved by the priests at his Catholic church? He mentions it in the big vlogging/TV religious family episode. I always saw him as a good student. For example  he’d be top of the class but would always ask questions so the other shyer kids who might not have understood and didn’t dare to ask would understand. Or he would tutor them. He seems to work very hard and be very focused, so I think he would be a favourite of the teachers. 

We know he was bullied physically and probably verbally too ( by Bobby Bianchi, at the very least), maybe because he was a bit of a goody-two-shoes. I really can’t see him ever getting into trouble at school or at home. We know he wanted to be a priest, so maybe he just spent a lot of time at church events to escape the bullying/find some real friends.

I was so prepared to hate Mike Dodds but he is very humble, is a bit annoyed to be there because of his dad’s nepotism and he refuses to be a tattle-tale. He apologises when he oversteps his boundaries, listens to feedback and generally gets on with everyone on the team. If he hadn’t had a fiancée, I’m sure he would also have fallen in love with Olivia too! 

Olivia is a very good Lieutenant. I see a lot of Cragen in her, as he would often give the team one-on-one pep talks and always tried to do the right thing when it came to members not doing things by the book. 

Maybe it got lost in translation, or I just struggle to pay attention to and understand the courtroom scenes, but Barba apparently says “Booyah, Fordham Law!” as a comeback/closing argument in a Season 16 episode, but I have never seen it though this is my second time watching. 

He was funny too when Carisi gives his personal and legal opinion on something and Barba says “That’s just your opinion, but yes, it’s correct”. 

Barba also wears fun, brightly coloured socks which are visible when he puts his feet up on the desk. I thought that was a fun way to show that he’s got a soft/emotional/fun side. Maybe because I know how he behaves in later eps towards Olivia, but I definitely find him less cold/unlikeable than I did during my first viewing. 

Something I read about was that potentially the show was going to have Barba and Carisi become romantically involved. Apparently the actors and writers were on board, but the network head said no. 

This would have deprived us of Rollins and Carisi though, and that would have been a big loss. Maybe someone like Dodds could have been gay and had a fiancé, thus having an openly gay member of the team and maybe some tension with Dodds Sr there. However,  Fin’s son Ken gets a storyline in that vein, when he and his husband have a child. 

On the tu/vous ( informal and formal you form) thing, Carisi uses tu with Amanda when she is at the hospital. This may be because they are of the same rank, but it definitely shows a level of friendship/closeness. 

Olivia, on the other hand, uses vous with everyone! Even Dr Huang, who she runs into with Barba, and she’s not in the office. She uses vous with Dodds Jr, even though she outranks him! 

[nuttytani]

Oh no! My suicidal big tiddies man got isekai'd

fandom: honkai star rail

characters: blade and gender neutral reader

tw: none except- maybe not proof read?

a/n: a silly birthday gift for my lovely friend here @tsubaki3192

It was currently 2 AM and you have been playing video games for hours now. Looking at the time made you instinctively yawn and stretch those stiff arms. You were interrupted by a strange gurgling sound coming from somewhere…. Actually, it was just you and your hungry tummy. Since it was super late to cook anything (and risky because it might wake up the entire house), you quickly sneaked into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge.

There were no leftovers. Just some sauce bottles, pickles, butter and milk. The fridge was positively empty of any food. There wasn’t even bread. What were you going to do with sauce and pickles? That didn’t sound appetising at all.

“Awe… There’s nothing,” you said while closing the fridge. Then you opened it again and finally grabbed that milk. That was your only hope.

At least it’s good for my bones, calcium and shit yeah?

Your legs and particularly knees have been creaky and making weird popping noises recently. Maybe those bones might be thanking you for the milk. Chuckling to your silly thoughts, you head back to your room, with a cup of milk and proceed to turn your computer off.

A weird green horizontal line appeared on your screen and your wallpaper surrounding that line turned pixelated. The speaker connected to your computer emitted creepy static-y noises like those really old radio. Something was not right and that something would land you in shit because this wasn’t some cheap ol’ computer. You painstakingly saved up for this bad boy after hours of part time jobs here and there while also struggling with your uni life. The model wasn’t anything new but it was good enough for you and it was your baby. That very baby was dying in front of you. You needed to fix it.  You instantly scrambled back into your chair and tried to check for cables. Maybe some cables were loose. Before you could even touch a wire, the entire screen turned green and turned black. The static noises stopped as well.

“Well… Guess I’m doomed.” You slide your hands down your face and slump down like that Shinji in a chair meme. If this was some horror story though this would be the perfect timing for a hacker or weird murderer to send a message like “I see you” or something of the sort. Actually, what if some weirdo dark web hacker was onto you and wanted to kill you for whatever reason?

Okay, that’s it. This was sleep deprivation talking. You need sleep. Like right now. There’s no hacker that wanted to murder you, it’s probably the lack of sleep frying your brain cells. You were a normal college student, trying to survive in this cutthroat dog-eats-dog world. Even if something does happen, it won't happen to you. Well, your computer dying aside…. NPCs such as yourself don’t get “fun privileges”.

That’s what you thought about 5 minutes ago when you didn’t have a razor-sharp blade pointed at your eye and you laid in your bed wondering what wrongs you committed in your past life that was happening to you. Did you steal a priest's robe? Did you offend some god by swearing at them? Fuck you past life self.

The person holding the sword was still hunched over you and didn’t move their sword. Not even a single centimetre. One wrong movement and you could lose your lovely sight once and for all!

“What is this place and who are you?” asked the person. Judging by their deep voice they were probably a man. They sounded really familiar. You squinted your eyes at the person. Hmmm, bluish-black hair, red highlights… He had some… Real nice assets... Meaning nicely shaped tits…. Hmmm.

“W-what are you doing!” the person raised their voice in surprise and took a step back.

Oh, they must have noticed you ogling. Was it that obvious? You keep staring at their assets because who knows when you’ll have the chance next time? And then your attention finally falls on his sword, it was a deep black that slowly turned into red towards the end and the shaft of the sword had golden crack patterns, you assumed it’s kintsugi.

Wait hold up, that sword looked too familiar. You have seen that many times.

“Holy shit! Are you Blade? Like the Stellaron Hunter Blade?” you exclaimed at the person.

“....Yes. Don’t you dare call the IPC. Or you will face my sword.”

“Well, I’ve been facing your sword for 10 minutes now…. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m talking to THE Blade. One and only Blade. Like actually from Honkai Star Rail? Who is basically lovers to enemies with Dan Heng? Can I touch you? Actually, I always thought your hair was pretty, can I please braid it?”

Blade was speechless and looked like a fish out of water and slowly sheathed his sword.

“Am I dreaming right now or is this what you call a sleep-deprived hallucination… I can’t tell.”

You were met with silence… He didn’t reply.

“I guess it’s a hallucination. ‘Mkay, goodnight, Mr. Dream-slash-hallucination-Blade.”

Just like that you slumped back into your bed, closed your eyes and snoozed.

.

Blade was left terribly confused.

Well, he was a Stellaron Hunter, you should be scared for your life. He kills people for a living. Most people would just have one glimpse of him and go running down the hill while screaming for their lives. But you didn’t? Even when you knew his identity? And his not-widely-known relationship with Dan Heng?

Clearly, you didn’t see him as a threat. He also noticed the way your eyes lingered around his chest.

Silver Wolf did say that he had “some big tiddies” for a man. Whatever that meant. And he’s currently stuck in this room. He had no idea how he ended up here. Just that he was speaking with Kafka about their latest “script” and the details given by Elio. And poof. Some strange glitch happened, and he ended up here. In this tiny room. A huge mess of a room. It was devastating to look at. The desk was covered with stacks of unorganised documents and some random trashy novels. There were also a few strange items that looked nearly identical to him… he tries to recall Silver Wolf’s terminology sessions… Merch? Clothes were all thrown over the office chair like it was some cover.  And the bookshelf was a wreck. An absolute wreck. He could even see how your closet wasn’t even fully closed! How many things were just packed in there?

Looking at the room triggered his migraine. He needed to do something about the state of this room, as soon as possible. Since he basically had nothing to do, he decided to clean stuff up. He organised your shelf– the books were in the order of the genre as well as the titles. He folded and hung your clothes and lined them up according to colour, as well as length. Cleaned up your desk, put away your documents into your drawer, hung up the merch on your cork display, vacuumed and mopped your floors and everything else that he noticed that was out of place.

By the time he was done it was already morning.

.

The birds were shining– no, hold up, that’s wrong, it was supposed to be the sun was shining. Yeah so, the sun was shining! The birds were singing! But why was your favourite game character in the flesh, right in front of you. Were you still dreaming? That’s impossible. You were definitely 100% awake. So you decided to simply stare at the video game character, who was acting like a total malewife cleaning your room. Your mind quickly flashed a Pikachu surprised face at the scene. You were sure that your face was looking like that too.

After what felt like an eternity of staring, you finally spoke, “So you’re real….?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Blade replied in a deadpan voice and a straight face.

Ok so he was real. That was established. Here’s the issue though. How were you going to keep a used-to-be-a-bunch-of-pixels-but-isn’t-anymore man in your room and your house? How were you going to explain this strange man being present in your room overnight to your family? Although you loved your suicidal big tiddies, man…. He needed to go. All those isekai stories and novels you read never talked about what to do when a fictional man just poofs into your house that you share with your family. How does one handle the situation? Someone better make a novel on this now… How does anyone even expect to cope with something like this? What to do now?

You muttered under your breath while thinking and paced around the room like a manic and started, “Should I hide you under the bed? No, you’re too huge for that. My closet doesn't have enough space for you either…. Oh, maybe you can hide in the bushes? Like jump out of my window and stay in there… for some time till I call for you.”

Blade motioned to you to shut up. Fair enough. You guess you were being too loud. Suicidal man needed some quiet time, you supposed.

“No need, I can simply do this.” Blade snapped his finger and he disappeared into thin air. There was another snapping sound, and he came back.

“This is a high-tech feature made by the Stellaron hunters that helps us to appear as if we’ve become transparent,” Blade explained.

“Cool. You should have just told me that sooner.”

And that is how your daily life with the suicidal big tiddies man started. Well it started-ish. He needed to go back to his universe but he said that the Stellaron Hunting could wait. Blade decided that he was on a paid vacation. Thankfully he could still converse with his colleagues, and they were figuring out how to get him back, although they assured you and Blade both that it wouldn’t be a difficult task except it might take a few months till Blade could reunite with the Stellaron Hunters. In the meantime, however, you were tasked to take care of Blade by Kafka and Silver Wolf. 

You and Blade had lots of fun, or at least you think he did. Every day was like a sleepover. Having facials and putting on face masks on each other while watching movies. Or playing some multiplayer games. Blade sucked at gaming, so you had to teach him a bit. You also read him trashy romance novels and even some funny fanfics to him. One day you two even went out to go shopping for some clothes because your big tiddies man could not wear the same pair of clothes every day. Plus, he needed some variety and those cowboy jeans needed to go. Immediately. He looked funny with them on, and no one wore bell bottom jeans in this era.

Though Blade was very sad to part from his fanservice clothes, he fell in love with hoodies and sweatpants. He said they were soft and comfortable to wear. He also wore his hair in a high ponytail or a low bun to blend in with others. You suggested him to get his hair trimmed but he didn’t like that suggestion at all. Blade even gave you a nasty glare for that.

Meanwhile, your family thought you were getting too lonely because they kept hearing you talk to yourself or “someone”. They tried to gently poke you about it every now and then since they were concerned for your mental health, but you would always brush them off.

Recently they saw you holding hands with thin air. Your family definitely knew something was going on now. They even considered calling an exorcist because that was so weird. They even heard a man’s voice speak.

That’s a whole different story though. Maybe for another time!

Until then, Fin <3.

a/n: yeah this was very crack and not serious lol.

here's my taglist if you ever wanna get notified about my fic/hc posts!

[oonajaeadira]

Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 1: Spring

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

Pairing: eventually Joel Miller x f!reader

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

Rating: T for now

Warnings: Mostly just Ellie being a swear mouth. There’s a lamb birthing. Fluff…this fic is sloooooow.

Summary: Joel and Ellie return to Jackson and you introduce them to the sheep.

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

Here it is, y’all. Not much happens. It’s just life in Jackson. There’s more Ellie here than Joel, but that’s because I figure Joel wouldn’t even turn his head toward someone if Ellie didn’t love her first. I’m just setting the stage for healing, for giving Ellie and Joel a nice home and good things. Nothing happens. Life is slower and softer here. Welcome to the Roost.

You were there when Tommy Miller was ushered–bloodied and busted–by the patrol through the gates of Jackson. The hard steel of Maria’s eyes through the slit between her hat and kerchief found you in the crowd and told you with a glance, I know what I’m doing. Meet me at home.

“Yeah, he’s one of them,” you’d confirmed to her later that afternoon as one of the Roostlings tended to his split lip and eyebrow in her living room. “I say we leave him to the coyotes.”

You’d trusted them once upon a time, the Fireflies. But your experiences with them were a deep education in morals and humanity. What you’ve come to believe is that everyone has an equal right to life and compassion and protection. And you might not have found that in yourself if the Fireflies hadn’t come through your papa’s ranch touting that sentiment but living up to a totally different set of rules, one where everyone had an equal expendability for the greater good of the survival of the species.

Fuck the species. If humans were meant to die out, then they would. Nothing is permanent. Not civilization or any one species, not even the mountains that surround your town–even the wind and rain would take them someday. All you can do is be good to those here and now, nurture what you have, and mourn what you lose with a little humility and gratefulness that you got to enjoy it in the first place. There’s already enough suffering. Why add to it? Or prolong it? Just let us all wane with kindness and compassion. Spend our days eating good food and caring for sheep, wildflowers swaying in the sunshiney breeze and stars twinkling at night–

“You go somewhere, Meadowlark?” Tommy teases as he passes you a plate of honey-glazed carrots, bean salad, and egg souffle, breaking you out of your reverie. You’ve come to prefer his tamales, but Maria wanted to use up some of last year’s supplies, so this Sunday’s family meal is harvest plate.

“I was just thinking about the day you came to Jackson.”

Leaning back in the wooden dining room chair, dark eyes glinting in the candlelight, his smug little smile is insufferable. “You wanted my hide on a fence.”

“Stretched and tanned. Could have been useful for patching boots at least.”

“What was it changed your mind again? Oh yeah. Weatherproofing the storehouse, building out your Roost, constructing a working loom–”

“It was the cornbread. And maybe the tamales.” Keeping a deadpan glare between you while stabbing a carrot and taking a bite, you point your fork at your best friend. “And you’re good to my girl here.”

Maria chuckles through a mouthful, shaking her head down at her plate like a mother trying not to let two warring siblings know how amusing they are. “I regret everything. And nothing.” The same dark eyes that glinted with reservation on Tommy’s first day hold back none of her big, tough heart as they seek him out now. “But speaking of mending shoes…you reminded me. Tommy’s brother came by while you were at the Roost.”

Your fork, halfway to your mouth, drifts back down to the plate. “Joel? Here? How’d he find you?”

Tommy answers carefully, chewing slowly, thoughtfully. “He didn’t, really. Patrol found him. Him and a teenager. They were looking for the Fireflies because…the girl belongs to them or something. Used my last known location and headed out west.”

“From Boston? On foot? And he survived?”

“All the stories I’ve told you about him and that’s what surprises you?”

Tommy’d been an open book from day one, answering Maria’s questions about his background, the QZs he’d lived in, why he felt the need to leave the Fireflies. As they’d grown closer and he joined in your family dinners, there were stories traded from the beforetimes, about his construction business with his brother, how his niece’s death changed them both, the things they’d done to good people just to survive. He held nothing back and owned up to his mistakes. Although he often blamed Joel for actions he willingly took part in. Still, admitted that he used his army training to teach Joel to shoot and unwittingly turned him into a killing machine.

But even so, he missed him. You could see that. Tommy missed his big brother. Wished it could be different, that he could have changed him, brought Joel back from his numbness before it was too late. Best he could do was run away from his regret, swing the other way and try to even out all his wrongs…but then found out that the Fireflies weren’t the answer to any of it. And despite all Tommy had admitted to doing, it was this ability to forgive, to take some fraction of responsibility, and to shelter his light through the darkness that Maria took a shine to.

You involuntarily glance toward the living room, toward the mantle where there’s a polaroid of a ruggedly handsome thirty-five year old man and a girl in fluffy brown pigtails. “Shit, Tommy. You think he’ll head back here?”

“Said he was counting on it.”

There’s a somber silence at the table as everything comes to a halt. Maria’s not exactly chilly, just… reserved. Ah. They’ve already been talking about it.

“Should I be congratulating you on a family reunion or….?”

The sudden winter of their discontent warms to a spring as your old friend goes back to her plate. “Well, it’s yet to be determined. Of course he’s welcome here, but not if he brings trouble.”

“He’s not going to bring trouble, sweetheart. You should have seen him that night we talked. He’s got demons chasing him, but he’s tired of running. He needs good people. We’re good people.”

“Unless he finds those Fireflies and they take him in first,” you interject. “Seems to me they’re just like everyone else, and a man who’s that good at mindless, morally-gray protection is a valuable asset.”

That sets him laughing, breaking the tension, throwing you unexpectedly off-guard after you’d just darkly insulted his kin. “Joel? Join the Fireflies? Not a chance in heaven, hell, or all the shit between! He’ll be back. He’s an asshole, but he’s my brother and I know him. He’ll be back. You’ll see.”

________

The day after coming back from your next shift at the Roost, you find yourself ass to the mud on the street outside the Jackson stables. Two bodies–yours, and that of a larger child–rounding a corner in colliding trajectories. You’d been fiddling with the buttons on your walkie, not watching where you were going, your boots taking you home the way they’ve done for years.

But she’d been moving fast–not running, but walking with that speed that teenagers are only capable of when they’re stomping off in a probable fit of angry hormones.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she curses, diving for your wayward walkie and the batteries that spit out all over the ground as you get yourself up and your ass dusted off. “Here,” she says, clumsily dumping a cluster of plastic and tech into your hands. “I hope I didn’t break it. Are you like one of the marshals here or something?”

A quick rummage through the jumble in your hands shows no damage and you start pumping the batteries back in, casting a glance around for the compartment cover. “Not quite.” Seeing what you need a few feet away on the ground, you nod at it. “Would you mind getting that cover, miss…er… You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.”

“Ellie.” She watches with interest as you clip the walkie back together and push the activation switch. “I’ve never seen one that small.”

“It’s actually an old kid’s toy. Meadowlark to Whippoorwill,” you mumble into the walkie, your lips nearly touching the plastic speaker, “just had a butterfingers. Testing the walkie.”

“What’s a butterfingers? Are those like code names?” Ellie asks.

Her eyes–black and sparkling–hold your own, a tense moment for both of you as you both hope for different reasons that the machine still works. “Something like that.”

“Whippoorwill here,” comes the voice through the can. “I hear you. Actually need a favor. Send a change of clothes through patrol tomorrow. The big one finally popped and she was a gusher.”

“Damn! I missed it by one damn day? Shit. One or two?”

“Three!”

“Uuuugh. Well that’s just fuckin’ fantastic. Glad you were there to catch ‘em, Whip. This is gonna be a good year. I think Hank’s on the round over there tomorrow. I’ll go pawing through your closet and send some things along.” Starting off in the direction of your friend’s house, you wave back at your new acquaintance. “See ya, Ellie. Nice to meet you. Take it slow around those corners, ‘hear?”

_____

The run-in wouldn’t have been memorable but for the next night when you show up at Maria and Tommy’s place for family dinner, carrying a warm basket of muffins, happy and singing to yourself as you dance in through the door…and come to a stop when four pairs of dark eyes turn to you from the dining room.

Guests? At family dinner? A man and–“Hey there…Ellie, right? Fancy meeting you here…”

The girl smiles from her seat at the table, waving with a hand covered by the sleeve of her raglan top. “Hi.”

“Oh. You know each other,” Maria says, lifting the basket out of your hands. “Then you must have met–”

No. You haven’t met him. But he stands up from the table, wiping a hand on his jeans and extending it to receive yours. Manners. Polite. That’s unexpected knowing the little that you know. His hair is gray now and he’s a bit softer around the middle, more gravity in the cheeks. His ample shoulders have taken weight over the years–literal and emotional.

No, you haven’t met him. But you know him. You’d know those eyes anywhere; studied them in an old polaroid on the mantle just over there. Soft but strong. A good person from another lifetime who was scarred deeply by this one. Someone who cut his soul right down to the quick in order to keep others alive. Those eyes may be a bit more haunted now, but they’re still just as keen.

You never stopped to think that you might someday meet them in person.

“Hi. You must be Joel.” _____

It’s the girls at the table that notice your interest. If left unchecked, your eyes wander across and start to examine the gorilla grip on the fork, the protective hunch over the plate, the beard that’s been newly trimmed and hair recently shaped up (by Maria, no doubt), the scars across the knuckles…temple…nose…

The man’s been through hell and back since the polaroid.

Ellie though…is unscathed, unmarred.

Protected.

And observant. She finally smirks the third time she catches you staring.

Maria’s knee bumps yours to reign you in. He’s not a threat, her eyes say.

This isn’t the time to correct her assumptions, so you put all your focus on your plate or whomever is speaking, whatever isn’t Joel Miller.

“Tomorrow’s work is barrier wall on zone two,” Tommy chews both his words and his venison at the same time. “Once we’ve got that fortified, internal barrier can come down and we can incorporate it as a new section, start safely upgrading the housing there. It’s got a school facility. Be nice to restore that for its intended use instead of using the old record store.”

“Sounds good, count me in,” Joel grunts once he’s politely swallowed his mouthful. “Just put a hammer in my hand and point me at a wall.”

“Just like the good days, eh, brother?”

“Sure.”

“I could swing a hammer” Ellie pipes up.

“You can go to school.”

She scowls darkly at Joel. “Your face can go to school.”

“Ellie–”

“Whippoorwill to Meadowlark.” The walkie on your hip crackles to life and you swallow quickly as all forks stop and all eyes swing to you.

“Meadowlark here. I hear you.”

“Wanted to let you know that all three lambs are hale and made it through the night. Mom’s a little restless, but they’re all safe in the enclosure and I’m doing a sit-in.”

“Thanks for the update. Good to know. You’re in the lead.”

“I know, but Chickadee comes in next week and I bet she takes it. Anyway. Thanks for the clothes and the book, I knew I forgot something. I’ll leave you be unless there’s any change.”

“I’m giving the walkie to Chickadee tomorrow, so you’ll have to egg her on.”

“You know I will. Whippoorwill out.”

Once the radio goes silent, there’s a mix of reactions around the table; pleasant surprise from Maria and Tommy, Joel on guard, his eyes flicking between you and the others waiting to know what it all means, and Ellie’s head twisting around, trying to catch up.

“Three?” Maria trills. “You didn’t tell me there were three new lambs!”

“Yeah. Just missed them. Whip got to do the honors–”

“The big one popped! She was a gusher!” Ellie smiles as the table turns to her. “You were talking about sheep pooping out babies?”

“Ellie, manners. People are eating.” Her guardian glares at her before checking in sheepishly with Maria.

“It’s fine,” you make her excuse. “Ellie head us over the walkies yesterday and–”

“So what’s with the code names?”

The girl is practically vibrating out of her chair with curiosity.

This time it’s your turn to be scrutinized by the newcomers; two pairs of brown eyes hungry for answers.

So you explain while you pick at your dinner.

“There’s a wide acreage outside the settlement walls, on the west patrol loop. We have a good herd of sheep out there. Can’t raise ‘em all in town, there’s not enough room or grazing, although if the winter’s bad, we’ll bring ‘em in to some barns over at the old ranch house.

“But there’s four of us shepherds, each one taking a week at a time out there. Doesn’t require much. Sheep do the hard work of eating and sleeping and rearing their lambs. We do the shearing and milking, send back daily gallons with the patrols–that’ll be the cheese on your salad there. But mostly just make sure they’re healthy and taken care of. Scare off wolves and coyotes if they come sniffing.”

“You go out there alone?” She asks, wide-eyed.

“Sure. It’s pretty secure and the patrols check the fences every day. The Roost is added security for us, since it’s elevated.”

“What’s the Roost?”

“Ah, it’s kind of a fancy treehouse?”

“Thanks to me, I’ll add,” Tommy pipes up. “When I got here, it was nothing more than a shack on a platform. This one here had a target on my back until the day she had four stout walls and a pretty little porch. Won her over pretty quick.”

“Stick built?” Joel asks, shoving a fingerling potato in his mouth.

“Yeah. Reinforced. A-frame. Even pulled windows out of a lodge.”

“Smart.”

Ellie obviously has no time for Construction Corner with the Millers. “You don’t get scared?”

There’s something about her eager wonder that grabs your attention, pulls you in tight, makes you want to answer whatever question she’s got. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I mean, not for us anyway. All of us Roostlings grew up around here. We know the sounds of the animals at night, know they’re more scared of us than we are of them. We’ve seen infected out in the wilds, sure, know what to listen for, but we also know how to defend ourselves if the barriers don’t hold…and they always hold.

“But mostly, it’s relaxing. Quiet. Slow. Time to think. There’s nothing better than a night suspended in the treetops, with the sheep below and the moon and the stars above….”

Joel has stopped chewing, a wistfulness showing from underneath his gruff mask. There’s something thrilling about catching his attention.

A goofy smile cracks Ellie’s face and she giggles, reaches out to punch him on the arm. “Did you hear that? Sheep and stars. It’s everything you dreamed of, buddy!”

“I didn’t mean…” he winces at her brute force and shoots a guarded look at you. “I think I’ll leave the sheep to the shepherds. You said you grew up here?”

It’s the first thing he’s really said to you unprompted and now that you have an excuse to look him in the eye, it’s actually hard to do. “Ah, yeah. Family sheep ranch down in…well, down-river. Not far. Maria too.”

“Spent a lot of time at that ranch growing up,” she smiles. “You and your sister were bad influences.”

“Is that why you up and left us for the big city?”

Maria laughs. “Had to get out before I spent my whole life here. Whoops.”

Joel reins the conversation back. “So you haven’t spent any time in the QZs?”

“No. Holed up at the ranch with…with some folks,” you say as Maria looks away. “Then Jackson was starting up and it was safer here, so I brought in my flock.”

“Hmm,” he grunts, reading your expression, catching the slight omission in your speech. Recognizing survivor’s talk.

You hold his gaze for a few seconds, wondering what your answer is worth to him. You’ve heard of the quarantine zones, knew how rough and miserable they could be. Tommy and Maria both had their stories and you count yourself lucky for never having been unfortunate enough to have to scrabble for existence in one of them. Would have languished and suffocated. Wouldn’t have been able to breathe without the big sky, or sleep without the mountains keeping watch…

Does he think you naive? Or that–wrongly–you’ve had it easy? Does your answer tip the scales in his opinion for the worse?

And what about him? Has the QZ made him dangerous? Hard? Dishonest? Tommy always said he was an asshole…

“Can I see it?” Ellie interjects. “The Roost. Can I go out there with you?”

The question is surprising in more ways than one; most noticeably in its boldness and by your shock in a kid getting so excited about sheep. “Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, that’s why there’s a bunk bed. We bring folks out there all the time. But you have to be willing to work while you’re out there.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Joel grumbles with a tight jaw, stabbing a potato with his fork.

Maria had explained to you the circumstances of Joel carting the girl across the country. To get her that far unscathed? To get her to the Fireflies… He must not have found them or he would have come back alone. Maybe they were dead.

Not that that would be a bad thing.

The girl is smart. Better off here.

But it seems no amount of time can take the father out of the man and he’s fallen into the role for her pretty hard, his jaw twitching as he balances between politeness and worry.

“It’s completely safe, brother. Walled in. Patrolled. In communication, as you’ve witnessed. And the Roostlings are all pretty skilled with a shotgun. She’ll be fine. Might do her some good.”

“Come on, Joooooooel. It’s sheeeeeeeep. In a treehouuuuuu-suh.”

He takes his time chewing. Keeps his eyes on his plate.

“We’ll see.”

“Well,” you smile, winking at the girl across from you, “I just got off my shift, so you’ve got three weeks to warm up to the idea before I go back.”

“Do I get a codename?” She wiggles in her seat, grinning hard at Joel, goading him.

“Sure. I don’t know. You’re pretty spikey. How about Thistle?”

“What?” This dismays her and gets a choke–and then a chuckle–out of Joel. “Why can’t I have a bird name?”

“Because you’re not a Roostling. You have to earn your wings.”

This sets her jaw in a challenge. “Oh. I’ll earn it. I’ll earn it so hard you don’t even know. Bring it on. Take me to the fluffy bastards.”

“Ellie, dammit!”

_____

“So, he’s, uh….” you hand a dish to Maria so she can dry.

“Less than personable?” She finishes, keeping her voice down so as not to be heard by the brothers chatting on the back porch.

“Got some adjusting to do if he’s gonna fit in here, I was going to say.”

“He makes you nervous though. I can tell.”

“No. Not…like that…I just…” It’s best to avoid her keen eye, but catch her surprise out of the corner of yours. “It’s just–”

“My oldest friend in this god-forsaken world,” she declares, throwing the dishtowel on the counter and settling hands on hips. “You are telling me that? That is the man that is turning your head?”

“No. That’s not…He’s…” a growl of frustration follows, trying to scare your thoughts into cohesive order as you scrub glaze out of a pan. “It doesn’t happen that often, you know? Someone from the past showing up and there’s all this…change. I mean, he’s not really from our history, but you’ve had that picture of him and his daughter sitting out and there’s this face from the past just…looming. Like, there was this man who lived and worked construction and then the worst day happened and his child was killed and the person he was just got…replaced with that guy. It’s…I’m just morbidly fascinated by what twenty years in a post-hell society can do to someone. I mean…that smile in the polaroid…he was so warm and healthy…”

It isn’t until this moment that you realize what Maria begins to surmise. The pan and washcloth are abandoned.

“So you’ve had a crush on a man from the past all this time, making your castles in the sand. And you’re disappointed that he showed up and was that.”

She generously and lovingly gives you the time to think.

“Maybe. I don’t know. He’s still good looking, so you have to give me a little slack there. But I don’t know him. Didn’t know him. It’s just an interesting thing, you know? A little fantasy of the beforetimes? One that didn’t really line up way I imagined it?”

Maria begins to laugh kindly and quietly. Then a little less kindly and a lot less quietly. “Oh shit, that man came here for sanctuary and didn’t know he walked into a full-on trap.”

“Hey!”

“No. No. That’s not fair and I’m sorry,” she concedes, taming her laughter somewhat unsuccessfully. “Just go easy on him, okay? He’s Tommy’s brother.”

“Well, then that’s as good a reason as any for me to stay on my side of the creek bed. And, to be fair, those other guys? They came after me first. I have no interest in men that have no interest in me. So it looks like he’s safe.”

“For now,” she smirks. “But. If Tommy keeps me up at night complaining that you’ve busted a bottle over his brother’s head–”

“That was one time! And that guy was a fucking jerk!”--now you’re both laughing–”Which, I guess, yeah, if Joel’s as much an asshole as Tommy says, then maybe I should play it safe and apologize to y’all in advance!”

Thank goodness you have each other to lean on, or you’d both be rolling on the floor in a cackling mess. _____

It only takes a fistful of days and as many shy nods in passing around town for a knock to come at your door one evening.

“Well…hey there….Mr. Miller. What can I do for you this evening?”

The generated streetlights don’t come all the way down your block, and he blinks in the candlelight coming from your open door, his jaw gaping slightly before sealing shut, blocking any words that want to come.

Stepping back, you let the door open wider for him. “I was just putting a snack together. You wanna come in?”

“No, I..don’t…”

You’ve seen this look before from folks new to Jackson. From folks who’ve had to keep what they have to survive. Folks who lived among others who would never offer up anything for free without the expectation of payback and therefore have forgotten–or perhaps never experienced–the simple joy of receiving hospitality.

“You don’t want to come in? Or you don’t want to eat my cooking? Because I’d be offended by either.”

Walking away from the open door has the desired effect and he finds his way to the front room sofa in view of the kitchen on his own.

It allows you to watch him check off the boxes as you put together a tray. Telltale sign of the long-hauler as he scans the rooms for exits and places where a threat could be hiding. Check. Then the sign of the QZoner as he studies his surroundings, taking in a home that’s lived in but not damaged by twenty years of decay or depression. Check.

That finally leaves him open to be vulnerable, and you watch to see if he’ll allow himself to be at ease.

The way his fingers curl and uncurl on his knees, how he looks away when you catch his eye.

You wonder if he’ll ever really sink in. Having family here will help.

“You drink, Joel Miller?”

“Depends,” he answers vaguely, but nods with certainty.

Your offering is simple, rye crackers on a plate, a disk of sheep’s milk cheese with a knife in it, two tumblers, and a bottle of sunshine.

“You all are sure generous with your whiskey around here,” he comments as you pour him a full glass.

“Not whiskey. Cider.”

He frowns. “Cider? You make this?”

“I’m not that talented,” you wave your hand over the cheese and crackers. “As you can see, this is what I consider cooking. Like most things here, I traded for it. There’s an orchard a ride out. Gone wild. It gets harvested once a year and there’s a cider press in town. Couple of ladies spend a good month canning and bottling.”

“Seems like the women run the show around here,” he says, impressed, taking a sip and then staring hard at the glass. “Holy shit.” You’re not sure at first if that’s a good or bad expression until he goes in for another drink.

“That make you nervous? Ladies brewing up the good stuff?” You only laugh at his impression of a deer in the headlights. “I suppose if you’ve spent enough time around Maria, it’s easy to think that. It’s just a very empowered place for everyone. Everyone’s got something to contribute that gives them some pride and gets them some respect. And I guess, in that way, you don’t have to worry about Ellie here. I can tell she’s gonna find her place and do just fine.”

“That’s actually what I came by for,” he says, distracted by the cider. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve had a drink of something that doesn’t burn?”

“It’s sweet, yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s been a minute since I had anything sweet.”

You let that hang, watch him examine the amber liquid…or, rather, a memory swirling in its depths.

Twenty years of a broken heart can’t be good for a person.

“You came to talk about Ellie?”

It takes him a second to realize you’re addressing him, but he only nods, and finishes the glass. When you pick up the bottle to pour him another, he quietly stops you with a gesture and the tiniest shake of the head. No. “You ever have raiders come by your Roost?”

“We’ve seen raiders in the area. They’ve attacked the town border before. Always small groups. Hungry. They don’t have the numbers or the ammo round these parts.”

“But what about out there in the open?”

Crossing your arms and leaning back in your seat, you let him know he’s being assessed, let it sink in that he might be over-protective and has the right to be scared but doesn’t need to be. Realize he may never grow out of his defensive conditioning.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Joel Miller. There’s always a chance. But I don’t know if there are any words I can say that would magically put you at ease. There’s one thing I can see though, you care a lot about that girl. I reckon you’re here tonight because she’s bugged you about going out there. And you hate disappointing her, so here you are. But you’re also afraid of letting her out of your sight.”

He doesn’t look at you. Just rolls his glass between his wide palms.

Ducking forward, you do your best to get your smile in his eyeline. “Since I can’t convince you with words, I’ll do it with evidence. Ride out there with me tomorrow and see for yourself.”

“I don’t…that’s not what…”

“Hey. Good parents want their kids to be safe. I know the type.” It was meant to put him at ease, but you realize a bit too late that your words were poorly chosen. It’s difficult to read his emotion; there may be a few going on at once. 

Most of them break your heart. 

An apology would only make it worse. “Tomorrow morning. Stables. Dawn.”

________

He doesn’t like to talk much, Joel Miller. Knows his way around a horse like a true Texan should, completely at ease with a shotgun strapped to his back, but doesn’t seem to want to spoil the silence. Or perhaps he’s just always on guard. That’s okay. You like the sounds of the morning. The crunch of the woodland floor, the sweep of the wind in the leaves. The birds have been up for hours already, their voices warmed up and singing clear. It’s still chilly at daybreak this time of year and steam rises from the horses’ noses, mixing with the fog of the dew evaporating in the rising sun.

After a good half-hour ride through dappled forest light at a leisurely pace, you take up the walkie that you’ve borrowed from Chickadee.

“Meadowlark to Whippoorwill.”

Seconds and trees roll by as you wait for your answer. No hurry.

“Whippoorwill here. You taking another shift? You’re a day early.”

“Nope. Just giving a new resident a tour and letting you know we’re coming in at the north passage. Put some clothes on and don’t shoot us.”

“I make no promises.”

“Don’t ever change, Whip.”

As you come to a ravine and dismount, Joel finally pipes up. “Put some clothes on?”

“Yeah,” you explain, leading the horse down the steep incline, “Whip’s a nudist. Don’t ever show up at her house unannounced if you aren’t ready for a lot of skin.” When he doesn’t know what to say, you smile over your shoulder. “Just fucking with you. Although, there is a stream to the south we all like to skinny dip in come summer.” Another baffled look from him, and another sly smile from you.

He’s distracted by this to the point that he actually flinches when the barrier appears before him. “The hell?” he exclaims, examining a hedge of vines growing up over a twelve-foot tall wall of stone. “You don’t even notice this from the top.”

“Nope. That’s the point. Doesn’t look like a wall from up there, just looks like a hedge from down here. Most people don’t want to make the effort to climb down but if they do, they just assume they have to find another way.”

“This is the meadow perimeter?”

“Well, this gate anyway. A lot of it is woven steel gage and cliffs that only goats can manage. Most of it is natural barrier or camouflage like this so you wouldn’t even know there’s anything being protected.”

“Huh. Clever.”

“Welcome to Jackson Meadow, home of the Roost.”

After displacing and replacing some facing shrubs, you’re able to coax the horses through a narrow tunnel and up a gentle rise that eventually opens out into a sweeping field in a valley under the face of the butte.

It’s still early enough that the wildflowers are just slivers of purples and yellows behind their bud casings, but they spread far and wide across the green expanse, broken only by the random white-gray lumps of grazing sheep. The sun is just beginning to break over the surrounding mountains to the east, but once it spills over, it will only make the spring colors of the valley more vivid than any surviving photograph, more picturesque than any oil on canvas…probably. It’s been decades since you’ve seen a landscape painting, so what the hell do you know.

Able to ride side by side now, you make another study of your companion. And there’s a war going on inside him. You can tell he’s taken by the raw beauty of the meadow, but twenty years of looking over his shoulder makes him nervous in wide open spaces and his eyes won’t stop moving between the grasses and the treeline, constantly appreciating, constantly scanning.

“Relax, Mr. Miller. Enjoy the view. You’re in good hands. See that patch of trees up there?” You nod to a wooded area near the center of the expanse. “Roost is in there. I guarantee you Whip has eyes on us and everything in this valley right now.” Raising a hand over your head with three fingers raised, you use the other hand to point to them.

The walkie smacks on and Whippoorwill’s steady drawl comes out. “Three.”

You wave. Smile at Joel. “See?”

He relaxes in the saddle and a quiet, ponderous minute goes by before he works up the bother to ask whatever’s tumbling around in that head of his. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What.”

“Mr. Miller. I’m no mister. It’s just Joel.”

Things are slow in Jackson, people take their time. As you do with your answer. “Maybe it’s my way of keeping a distance, Joel Miller. You seem like the kind of man that likes people to keep their distance so he can get a good read and make sure it’s safe to approach.”

Twisting with a frown, he scans you as if he’s never really looked before, maybe a little annoyed that you have his number.

You dismount your chestnut mare some distance before reaching the trees, leave the reins to the saddle and let her be, walking over to the nearest duo of sheep–a mother and baby. The ewe bleats at you out of habit, but knows you’re no real harm. She watches her lamb though, chewing when she remembers to.

This lamb is still very young and you’re not sure if it will remember. There’s a bounce to the left, and then two to the right, and then each leg steps carefully as he haltingly makes his way forward. You’re able to scoop him up and turn him over in your arms like a baby, instantly quelling him, and his legs hilariously splay.

“What’d you do to it?” Joel, having followed suit and let his horse graze, walks up and there’s the tiniest smile as he gazes down at the creature in your arms.

“Nothing, that’s just what they do when you turn ‘em over. Here.” You don’t even tell him to put his arms out or ask if he wants to hold the lamb, you simply get close enough and the man’s instincts kick in. All you have to do is hand him off.

Joel’s surprised at first, flinches a bit when the lamb wiggles in his arms–the tiniest protest to being transferred to an unfamiliar nanny. But then both of them calm and you have to stifle a laugh as the two of them just…stare at each other. The lamb in his lamby wonder, and Joel like a new, star-struck dad.

Going about your business, you begin checking the creature’s general health, pushing at the belly, checking the mouth. “This one was born on my last watch, so he’s only about ten days old.”

“Really,” Joel sighs, totally enchanted, not even realizing that he’s instinctually bouncing the lamb a bit. The father in him showing its face again.

“Yep. And,” you indicate the mother, now watching a bit more closely since there’s an unfamiliar human involved, “I birthed that one too. And probably most of her whole line for the last twenty years or more. All of them were as little as this one, and all of them survived. And if the Roost can raise flocks and flocks of dumb little sheep, we can certainly take care of one smart little girl.”

When he scans you this time, it’s clear you’ve given him reasoning that resonates.

He allows you to lift the lamb from his arms, watching thoughtfully as the little thing springs away past its mother and tumbles into some lupines head first. After it recovers and bounces a little more, you bring Joel’s attention to the trees a few hundred meters to the south.

“You can just catch the Roost there, see? The A-frame sticks up above the treetops. And that’ll be Willa at the porch railing.”

He squints. “How do you get up?”

“Retractable ladder. Tommy rigged it for us. You gotta be in it to win it. You’re either up it or fuck it. Ergo, if the ladder’s up, you don’t get in.”

“Huh. How do you get supplies up? Pulley?”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

It’s a quiet ride back to Jackson, and you do your best not to look over your shoulder to gauge his reaction, like Orpheus leading Euridice out of Hades trying not to lose a tenuous chance for Ellie to spread her wings. It’s not every day a young person wants to learn the shepherding gig. Most of them want to stay in town near their friends, or are too afraid of the world to venture out. Ellie though, she’s been in the world. Observant. Eager to learn. Fearless.

The sheep could use someone like her.

You could too.

It’s when he’s busy unsaddling his horse in the stables that he clears his throat, and you let the curry brush lighter over your horse’s coat so you can hear him think out loud.

“Yeah that works,” he mumbles. “Think it might be good for her.”

Poking your face over your mare’s shoulder and waiting to catch his eye, you release the hounds of smiletown. “You’re right. And probably good for you too, Joel Miller.”

____

“Whoa, coooooool!!!” Ellie says for the fourth time on the ride from Jackson as she spies the Roost through the trees.

Over the past few family dinners, Ellie asked a million questions about this week–how to stay warm, where to bathe, if the sheep bite–anything and everything, even if it was common sense.

And with every answer she’d listen, enrapt, her eyes flicking to Joel now and then. It became obvious to you–although maybe not to the others–that she was asking not so much for her own good, but to calm Joel, signal that she was thinking ahead and covering all the bases, that even if she already knew the answers it might calm him to hear them too.

A little overkill. But the concern they showed for each other while trying not to be sappy about it was endearing you to both of them.

And perhaps Joel was calmed; maybe not so much by the answers you gave, but the way you gave them--calmly, indulgently, and with just a little bit of sass to show you could keep up with Ellie’s tongue and put her in a figurative headlock when she got too cocky. You caught Joel smiling down into his plate a few times. And at you a few more.

He’s got a good smile. It comes out more often now.

A duffel bag lands on the ground at the base of the Roost’s tree and your horses jump a little. Then there’s a cheerful trill from above, “I’ll be right down! Just packing up the wool!”

“No rush, Goldie! We’ll go water the horses while we wait.”

Ellie follows your lead you as you dismount to pull the packs off the horses–bulky with a week’s weight of food, water, and clothes–before climbing back into the saddle and heading off to the south.

“There’s a creek up here flows right down from the Tetons. Purest, cleanest water you’ll ever see.”

“Can you drink it?”

“Absolutely. You, me, the sheep, it’s for all of us. We humans boil it first, of course.”

Ellie’s nose wrinkles. “Seems a waste. I mean, if it’s coming down from the mountains it’s really cold right? We hardly ever had cold water in the QZ. It’s so good when it’s cold.”

“You’ll be singing a different tune when you have to bathe in it.” Her face falls and you can’t help but laugh, hauling yourself out of the saddle and guiding the beast through the pebbled creekbed. “Believe me, come summer, you’ll be plenty happy with how cold it is.”

Once the horses are watered it’s a leisurely stroll back to the Roost, handing the reins over to a tall, veritable Viking of a woman, stong-boned and willowy all at the same time, the long golden braid spilling down her back and curls springing out from the sides of her face giving her the appearance that she’s wearing a lazy albino scorpion on her head. Her blue flannel matches her eyes and clashes with her sunburned cheeks.

“Ellie, this is Goldfinch, our junior Roostling.”

The woman takes Ellie’s small hand in her long, sturdy fingers. “Maybe not so junior if you pull yourself up on board.”

“Goldie started with us about ten years back when she was around your age.”

“Ten years ago?” Ellie asks. “There hasn’t been any new shepherds since then?”

The Rootling shares a concerned look with you before you answer, “Well, there have been, but not all of them stuck.” And you put the question to rest by helping Goldie pack up your horse. “Shit, this is a lot of wool. How many did you do?”

“About twelve?” She answers. “I’m only taking ten worth. Left the rest for you.”

“Damn, you must have been bored. Ellie, can you hand me that duffel? Thanks.”

As Ellie brings the bag to you, she’s also scanning the thatch of forest where the Roost stands. “So she’s taking the horses? She doesn’t have her own?”

“Horses are a sign of civilization,” Goldie offers. “Especially if they’re on a picket line. And we like to keep it not so obvious that we’re out here. We’d have to keep them on picket or they’d just wander off back toward the gate an s hang out there wanting to go home and give away that location.”

“Besides,” you explain, “won’t need ‘em until we go back to Jackson. Safest place to be in the whole pasture is the Roost with the ladder up and a loaded shotgun nearby, not trying to saddle up to ride off. If there’s trouble, we can hold out the time it takes for a posse to come down from town.”

“Is there ever trouble?” Ellie wonders, just slightly concerned.

“Never yet,” you wink.

Finally there’s the ceremonial clink of the walkies, acknowledging that the leaving Roostling is taking hers home and the new occupant has one with a completely restored battery. “Patrol, this is Meadowlark taking over for Goldfinch.”

A few quiet seconds. A pinecone drops nearby.

Then a man’s voice from the speaker. “Meadowlark, this is patrol, we read you. We’ll be hitting east gate around noon today. Anything you need?”

“Nope, we just landed. By ‘we’ I mean me and a learner. New girl, Ellie Williams. Callsign Thistle.”

“Copy. Welcome to the Roost, Thistle.”

Ellie beams, then blinks as you hold the walkie to her face, and you nod her a nod of encouragement.

“Thanks…patrol. Uh…Thistle over and out.”

“Good job, kid,” Goldie says, hoisting a leg over the horse and taking the reins of Ellie’s mare from you. “Have a good week, you two. May your days be filled with storms.”

Once she’s out of earshot, Ellie turns to you. “Storms?”

You strap a pack over each shoulder and start climbing the ladder. “We’re in friendly competition with each other to have the most lambs born on our watch and shear the most sheep. If it rains it can be miserable work at best and impossible at worst and we’re less likely to make good numbers. So it’s an affectionate curse.”

“Oh. Seems cruel to the sheep.”

“What do you mean?”

Shouldering a smaller pack, Ellie starts climbing behind you. “Wishing for storms when they have to be out in it.”

“Eh, they’re happy as clams when it rains. They’ve got wool sweaters already.”

“I’ve never worn a wool sweater.”

Reaching the top, you wait for her to crest so you can see the look on her face when she does. “Then you’re in for a treat. It takes a lot to waterlog wool. Rolls right off. You’ll see. You’ll love it. And that’s not even mentioning the socks!”

“What does happy as a clam mean–” she begins, but stops abruptly as her face comes to the top of the ladder, her mouth opening in awe, rounding in concert with her eyes. “Whoa! Holy shit!!!”

The Roost as a whole isn’t all that large and can be crossed in half a dozen steps. Roughly a seven meter square platform, it holds a one-room cabin with a balcony running along the north and east sides. The windowed, A-frame peak looks out to the north pasture and the roof slopes just out and above the east balcony to shade it in a cascade of knotty pine. Windows wrap all but the west side, the interior wall of which has a simple built-in double cabinet bed with a single bunk running across its head above.

It’s this cabinet bed that draws Ellie inside, and you watch her slowly take in the rest of the cabin, with its rustic table and chairs–Goldie left a couple Indian Painbrush in a mug of water in the sun–the windowed corner with the soft, plush, patchwork pillow chair and a basket full of wool roving, the opposite corner with its woodstove upon a harlequin tilework patch of floor and the spare array of cooking tools on spiraled iron hooks in the knotted wood walls.

The honey dark timber stretches overhead to a peak, from which hangs dried strands of vegetables and herbs, higher up a set of snowshoes, a number of straps and ropes–a butcher’s hook among them, the one arguably ominous tool, meant to make dragging a bloated carcass easier…although it is rarely needed anymore.

Even though the Roost has become your home away from home, the fresh smell off the boards and the dust motes dancing in the sun make you pause and smile every time.

It’s just comfortable enough for two people, a generous hideaway for one, and your favorite place in the whole world. There’d been more than one occasion where you thought about asking Tommy to build you its replica in Jackson, but it would be a shame to ruin its uniqueness…and, of course, there were higher priorities in town.

“Is that where you sleep?” Ellie points at the cabinet bed.

“Yep. Or you, if you want. There’s a bunk. I’ll take whichever you don’t want.”

Bouncing over to the side of the cabinet with the recessed ladder, she climbs, pats the mattress, and frowns. “Why’s it all lumpy?”

“It’s filled with fleece. Same down here. It doesn’t feel lumpy when you sleep on it. Feels like a cloud hugging you. How’s the view up there?”

Ellie pets the bunk mattress another second or two, considering it, before turning out with a smile, “It’s–” but the smile fades when she sees beyond the four meter peak of the cabin and out through the windows for the first time.

Turning to face outward--to see though her eyes–-the sun is breaking fully over the butte, filling the valley like a warm, golden bath, serving up a green to the eye that exists nowhere else in the world. It never gets old and is beautiful from every angle, especially this view from the treetops, birds-eye.

Wordlessly she descends the bunk ladder behind you and wanders out to the balcony, resting her forearms against it, staring out at the vista, and you let her have it while you unpack the bags, situate the supplies, assess the woodpile, toss a set of fresh sheets on each bed.

Once finished with the settle in, you join Ellie where she’s drifted to the other side of the balcony, looking out at the north pasture where the sheep like it best.

After a moment she asks quietly, “What was this place before?”

“This land?” you specify, and she nods. “It was just this. A valley meadow. Native land.”

“It’s hardly touched out here. No broken buildings. No bomb craters.”

“Nope. This place was never really that urban. Even with all those people, some wild places remained. Some were actually sanctioned by the government as untouchable natural places, just to let the animals live and the trees grow. It was for everyone to enjoy.”

“National parks.”

“Yeah, that’s right. This was part of a park like that. But Jackson wasn’t densely populated. Didn’t spread as fast out here. We were low priority. No bombs. So many of us lived on our own land that when the governments came to round any of us up, we’d take up arms and hold our ground. It’s what my sister and I did when they came at our ranch. I think after a while military just left the area thinking if we all got infected it could only spread so far before it just finished off the population and had nowhere left to go.”

“Did it?”

“Oh it came, but it didn’t take everyone. It wandered in later, like everything does out here. Cordyceps are like a fashion. It spread in the urban areas first and made its way out here eons later. But there were fewer people in a lot larger space…and a lot more guns. It was easy to stamp out.”

Ellie’s not like most of the other kids in town who nod at your ancient stories of the olden times. To them, this is the world as it is and how it will be and stories of how it used to be are less than monumental, just a passing curiosity for aimless evenings around a fire. But Ellie’s attention reaches beyond the meadow, beyond the mountains, beyond what she can see. It stretches out in time and tries to divine the past and what might have been; she tries to calculate what exactly was lost and in what ways it’s actually better. A life she could have had versus the one that’s brought her here to this balcony in the morning sun.

A far off bleat becomes a signal for the reverie to break, and you bump your shoulder against hers.

“C’mon. I’ll show you how we do the rounds.”

_____

After a few days, Ellie is doing the morning rounds on her own, reporting in when she notices an ewe in a lay, keeping an eye out for cast sheep–“You see a sheep on its back, do whatever you can to right it, you’ve got about twenty-four hours until they die there of bloat and stupidity,”--and generally letting them all get to know her.

“You’ll need to take your time. Let the lambs come to you or the mammas get emotional about it. Treat ‘em light and gentle for a while. If the ewe sees no need to watch you anymore that means she trusts you and you can pet and pick up the little ones if they let you. But they start cryin’, best to put ‘em down and let ‘em run. Never chase them. You chase them and never let them come to you, they’ll run when you need to get to them most. Take ‘em some apple or carrot and they’ll be your friend forever. Squash and pumpkin are good too. Sometimes I’ll bring out a pocketful of oats. Don’t tell the stablemasters in town; they’d have my ass.”

By mid-week if you couldn’t find Ellie, all you’d need to do was climb up to the Roost and survey the green meadow for the contrast of her red tshirt and you’d spy her sprawled out in the grasses surrounded by a clutch of lambs and ewes. The girl was a sucker for animals.

Shearing went by faster with someone there to hold hooves and legs or just keep the lambs within sight so any ewe under the shear wasn’t kicking to check on her baby. It might have been Ellie’s least favorite part except for the evening time task of carding wool (“Boring”) and drop spinning (“Impossible”).

“Motherfucker,” she whispers, singing a song of hatred at the breaking threads on her spindle, throwing her hands out and taking a dramatic fall backward onto the wool rug she’s sitting on.

“Patience, young grasshopper. It’s not a fast skill; it can take years to learn to spin consistently,” you laugh in the warm glow of the lantern, your spindle wizzing as your yarn pulls at an even gauge, “and all you have out here is time. You’ll get it.”

“Grasshopper? Have I graduated from Thistle?”

“Nope, sorry. Old joke, before your time.”

Abandoning her work and rolling over to her belly, Ellie kicks her stockinged feet lazily in the air and pulls at the fibers in the rug. “There’s only one more day left and there haven’t been any new lambs.”

“Season’s slowing down some. They’ll be fewer and further between.”

“Don’t you wanna win?”

“Win at numbers? Not if it means the health of the sheep. They’ll birth when they birth. Besides, nobody’s beating Willa this year. Those triplets made that a certainty.”

“Whippoorwill’s name is Willa. Chickadee’s name is Addie.”

“Yup.”

“So everyone turned their name into the closest sounding bird except you.”

“Nah. We’re just not real clever with the names is all. Goldie’s name is Pam. We just call her Goldfinch because she’s a blond. Probably wouldn’t even have callsigns but that it makes it easier to hear over the walkie.”

“So what about yours then? Why Meadowlark?”

You smile. “Larks are songbirds. I like to sing when I’m out here. I’ve been caught at it so many times, I don’t even hide it anymore.” You belt a made-up melody loudly out through the open window into the night, “Isn’t tha-a-at ri-ight you wooly ba-a-a-asta-a-a-ards!”

A sleepy sheep calls back in irritation.

“You’re a weird lady.”

“You’re a weird lady.”

Ellie laughs begrudgingly, sits up with a grunt and starts picking at her thread again, squinching her mouth at the lumps. “So if I become a Roostling, I don’t get to pick my own bird?”

“I’m sure we could make an exception. Why? You got one in mind? Because left to us you’d probably be a red-bELLIEd something-or-other.”

“Ha ha. Fine. I don’t know much about birds. Mostly just pigeons in Boston.”

“Well fuck if I’m gonna call you Pigeon.”

The night’s starting to chill down a little and she hugs her knees into her chest, setting her chin on them in thought. It’s about time to close up the window and put a few logs in the stove, but Ellie’s attention wanders up and out among the stars.

You have so many questions. Were all the kids in Boston as stubborn and wild and foul-mouthed as her? Where were her parents? Dead, most likely, but how did she survive them? How did she meet Joel? Did she smuggle run with him? She’s a fair shot with a shotgun, but not practiced. Did he get her here all by himself? That takes a lot of luck and skill. He must care about her a lot to bring her with him all this way, to keep her safe….

“So it was just you and Joel out there for a long time, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“I bet you’re happy to finally have somewhere warm to sleep. Traveling during the winter would have been rough. Good thing it was a milder one this time around.”

She gives a pathetic shrug. “I dunno. I liked it. Just us under the stars. We looked out for each other.”

“Well, you have a lot of folks who will look out for the both of you now. And if you need someone to look after, well, these sheep could really use you.”

Unexpectedly, she laughs, something you’ve said keeps her in the giggles for a while. “One night we were camping and I asked Joel where he wanted to go most in the world and he said he wanted to settle down and farm sheep. This is kind of his dream. But then he said that he wanted to be a musician. Maybe he should be the one out here with you to watch sheep and sing.”

“Maybe. Does he have a tolerable voice? The sheep are picky, as you’ve heard.”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t sing for me,” she squishes her cheek into her knee, giving you a shit-eating grin and a teasing sing song. “But I bet he’d sing for you if you asked him.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you smile and wink, trying to hide your chagrin under a swirling cape of nonchalance. “I can be very persuasive. But...I don’t think Tess would like that so much.”

“How do you know about Tess?”

“Tommy has his tales. They were quite a little family unit for a while. I’m actually surprised she didn’t show up here with you two.”

This sobers her, turns her attention back out to the stars, halting her response. “She would have…. but she didn’t make it.”

A chilly breeze sweeps through the window, and you’re not quite sure if it’s the drop in the air or your heart that makes you shiver.

Tess didn’t make it. In the world as it is, that means one thing. You wonder what happened. How. If it was horrific–of course it was, you can see it in Ellie’s hardened eyes that it was–and how much it affects her or doesn’t. It’s so difficult to tell with kids these days. In the end though, it hardly matters how. In all the myriad of ways it could have happened, it would have ended the same.

You wonder if Tommy knows.

You suddenly feel ashamed of that selfish little spark of hope it sparks in you.

But while what you know about Joel Miller could fill a book, what you don’t know about him could fill a library.

And you’ve had enough time pass through you to know that a lot of patience and a little observation can go a long way towards preventing disaster.

Thoughts for another time.

“What about you, kid, hmm? What was your answer? In all the world, where would you go?”

But you’d already guessed, seen the longing in her face every night this week and see it now as she looks out the window at the silent silver satellite in the sky.

_____

“Ow, dammit! Just keep a good hold on her back legs so she stops kicking me!”

The lamb is breach and you’re halfway up to your elbow in sheep, trying to push at the little one’s one back haunch to clear the way for the other leg. Ellie, wide-eyed and trembling with excitement keeps letting the ewe’s leg slip and you’d be laughing if the hooves didn’t pack such a punch.

You must have seen a thousand sheep born and assisted in a high percentage of those in your lifetime, but this one manages to give you a new rush. It’s the morning you’ll be heading back to Jackson and you were afraid you’d go all week without Ellie getting to experience a birth. Here it is, and she’s just as thrilled as you’d hoped and all you have to do is make sure both the lamb and the ewe make it through.

It doesn’t take much–a little push, a little twist, a little pull, a little gasp from Ellie–you’re able to get both back hooves in your hand and the little one comes sliding out in a gloopy mess onto the grass. Your favorite flannel is caked with blood and you’ll have to go straight to the launders with it on arrival back in town…

…but it’s all worth it when the baby bleats the tiniest baa and Ellie giggles and clutches her cheeks.

“Holy shit! That was awesome! It’s so tiny! Can I name it? Like Snowball or something?”

The footfalls making their way through the meadow proceed Willa’s answer, “You don’t have to do that. The earth and the sky and the wind will name her themselves.”

Leaning back to acknowledge not only your friend and her arrival, but also a broad form following her clad in denim and gristle.

“Brought you a friend,” Willa smirks for the girl’s benefit, tilting her head in Joel’s direction.

“Joel!!! Look!!!” Ellie’s grin is so full she can’t even close her jaw, gaping like a kid who just saw her first Christmas tree.

Another tiny bleat escapes the lamb as its mother begins to lick it clean and Joel’s eyes nearly disappear behind cheeks and crinkles. “Hey there, babygirl. You have a good time?”

“Fuck YES.”

Willa extends a hand to help Ellie up and Joel does the same for you, taking care to keep your dripping forearm at a good distance.

“She did real good out here; you’d be proud,” you praise the girl, squelching her grin with a big, wet, slap on the back. “I’d love to have her again.”

“Aw, maaaaaaan!” Ellie reels in disgust as you dig your palm into her shoulder, really getting the juices in there.

“You just earned your keep, kid.”

This snaps her head around. “Really? Do I get a bird name now?”

“Yup. And I think I know what’ll suit you just fine.” In a short second of mountain time, the wind picks up just a little, lifting the brown curls around her face and the sun comes up behind her over the bluff, kissing her pink cheeks as you lean down and look her straight in the eye.

“Welcome to the Roostlings, Starling.”

____

You let them ride ahead of you, allow the father-daughter team to catch each other up on the week’s news, watch adoringly as Ellie chatters on about the lambs and how they tumble and bounce and how cold the water is and how the Roost creaks and sways a bit when it’s windy, which sheep were her favorite and how much she hates spinning wool.

Next time you’ll have to teach her how to knit, you think. She’ll probably take to that a little better.

And when he’s not giving her his glowing attention, Joel’s only report is that he started work in the new section of town, nothing exciting except the house was blessedly quiet for a whole week thank god.

She still has stories to tell Maria and Tommy at family dinner, repeating again some of the highlights you overheard her tell Joel, and new ones she just remembered. Your friends smile and listen, bewitched, time enough to give her an ear and delighted with the novelty of an excited young person at their table.

“Looks like you have yourself a new recruit,” Maria laughs. “What did you settle on for a callsign?”

Ellie tips her head back, answering through a mouthful of potatoes, “Starling!” and slaps a hand over her mouth when a chunk goes flying.

“Ellie, dammit, talk OR chew, not AND.”

Maria ignores Joel’s curse at her dinner table to ask you, “What prompted that?”

You chew and swallow, pointedly showing off the patience that the girl couldn’t muster, a blatant tease. “Seemed a good choice. Kid’s a sucker for the stars.” You match Ellie’s smile before you sweetly add, “And, y’know. Because starlings are loud and annoying as hell.”

That earns you a bird of another kind.

_____

Tommy cuts a good silhouette against the coming twilight as he lines himself up to the peg and explains for his adopted niece how to score a ringer in an after-dinner game of horseshoes. He demonstrates the looseness of the grip, the swing of the iron, and Ellie soaks it up like a sponge, eager to learn.

He’s a good teacher. He taught Maria…who is currently beating his ass. But Maria is good at whatever she does regardless, always has been.

You concluded long ago that it’s not your game. Branded it a Texas thing and took up your spot on the back porch swing with a bottle of cider, kicking off your boots and putting your woolen-socked feet up on the railing to enjoy the setting sun reflecting off the mountain face.

There’s a cheer as Ellie tosses and the shoe lands with a loud clang.

The porch door opens when Joel returns with a bottle for himself. But instead of rejoining the game, he wanders over to sit next to you on the swing, upsetting it enough to pull your feet from their perch.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Pull up a seat, Joel Miller.”

Several lazy minutes pass, a sweet, comfortable silence filled with the occasional sip from a bottle and an exchanged smile as you push at the porch a little, encouraging the swing to do its thing. And he lets his knees go soft, keeps his feet on the ground but aids in a little gentle rocking.

“Thank you,” he says, finally, tipping his head toward his ward as she scores yet again, “for taking her out there. She hasn’t shut up about it since.”

“Yeah? What’d she have to say?”

“Went on about the lambs, complained about how cold the water was. Said she was tired because she liked getting up early in the morning to see the sunrise but liked being in the trees at night and wanted to stay up to listen to the night birds. Said you liked to sing when you work and the fact that she didn’t complain about it–and from what I heard the night we met you–makes me think you’re not too bad at it. Not too fond of your cooking, though.”

That earns a snort from you. “Well I don’t blame her there; I warned y’all. I wouldn’t say she’s the most obedient kid, but she sure is smart, and really capable and brave. That girl eats the world with the spoon she’s so hungry to know all the things all the time. And strong–she swings an axe better than me. Got a mouth on her–”

“Sorry about that–”

“--and is beautifully, brutally honest, and pretty fucking hilarious. She’s really special.”

“Yeah. Yeah she is.” Something like pride melts his shoulders as he watches Ellie joke around with Tommy, and then slowly evolves into gratitude as he turns to you, to someone who can see her like he does. “Funny, that’s what she said about you.”

There’s a pull to share in that pride and gratitude, to lean in and let yourself bask in the glow of the compliment.

But a wall goes up when you reveal, as kindly as you can, “She told me Tess didn’t make it.” As his eyes grow stony and deny you the pleasure of their focus, you chase after his attention by turning your body toward him on the swing, bringing a knee up and placing a hand on his forearm, gently urging him to stay here with you. “Hey. She didn’t tell me what happened and I don’t need to know and you don’t have to talk about it. But I do need to ask you one thing. That man out there might be your brother, but he’s my friend. And Tess might have been your lady, but she was still family to him. She was important to him. And he’s important to me. And I need to ask you if he knows.”

The arm under your finger tenses as his fingers grip the cider bottle and you move to let go–to let him know you’re not forcing him–but a hand claps down over yours. It’s now his turn to urge you to stay, to give him a minute, to let him bust through whatever is starting to well up in him so he can swallow and tell you, “He knows.” Another quiet minute as he stares out at his family on the back lawn, his jaw working to bring the air in and keep the tension out. “He knows. Thank you…thank you for… taking care of him too.”

His fingers flutter a little, scarred knuckles contracting and loosening like he’s fighting the instinctual urge to hang onto something. So you set your bottle on the porch railing and gently lift his away too, slip out of this awkward hold and instead shift his hand between both of yours, giving it warmth, giving it permission to hold onto you like it wants to.

“They’re my family, which means you are now too. As long as you plan to leave off your wandering and let us keep you safe and cared for, that’s thanks enough, Joel Miller.”

“Quit that,” he grumbles, clasping your hand in case you interpret his words as an ask for release, needing a stolen moment of secret comfort in the deepening twilight. “Joel’s enough. You sound like my mother.”

“Okay,” you compromise, trying to tame your eager heart, silently explain to it that there’s nothing here but the time to do things right. “Okay, Joel.” You smile. “Joel Joel Cinnamon Roll.”

“Shit,” he cringes, shakes his head slowly, stifling a laugh. “Now you really sound like my mother. That’s what she used to call me, how did you-- Tommy.”

“Yup.”

“I hate you both.”

“No you don’t.”

Ellie scores another ringer and Joel smiles. “No, I don’t.”

________

NEXT: SUMMER

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

[octuscle]

Support dude, it’s me again, Mike. I hit you up so much I feel like I should pay you. And hey if you need that, I’ve got you just tell me. I owe you a shit ton, dude. Since you last helped me, Jack and I tied the fucking knot (and had a hell of a honeymoon haha hadn’t gotten so many noise complaints since high school) and I even moved into his place. Real big and nice like, would make a suburban man cream his pants and even a socialite would do a double take. For as filthy as he can be with me, big boss knows how to fucking live.

But I wouldn’t be hitting you up if everything was all sunshine and rainbows, eh? (Though one of these days I might convince Boss to let you in on our thing for a night or two, just to say thank you if that’s a thing you wanted wink) One of the neighbors apparently doesn’t like it so much when I invite some of the guys at work over for our, let’s call em team bonding events. He bitches and moans about how loud and rowdy we get and how it’s ruining the value of the neighborhood. I almost kicked his ass the first time he came by all bossy and shit, but Boss told me he was President of their HOA or whatever the fuck and that I couldn’t. So I’ve been trying to ignore the prude but if he comes over and ruins another good night I might lose my cool and I don’t wanna let down Boss like that.

Any way you can make the neighborhood meet our lifestyle choices better, dude? I don’t wanna give up this lavish living so soon, it’s nice as hell. But I don’t want it to change me. I wanna change it! Ain’t no reason we can’t live it up without being able to get down if you catch my drift. Can you help me?

I have not invested so much time in my favorite customers, so that you now become adapted suburban bourgeois. So it's time for me to take care of your neighbor. He may be the president of the HOA, after all. But that doesn't give him the right to regulate your private lives. But I could add a little spice to his.

Actually, the boring buffer is not a visitor to the gym. Thank God. So at least you have peace from him there. But today he feels like working out his muscles. And of course, when he enters the locker room, you run right into his arms. And the slimy ass-kisser can do nothing but shake your hand in a friendly way, as if you were best friends. Oops, sorry that your towel slips down.

Normally you are hard as granite when you come back from training. At the sight of your neighbor, the 8 inches dangle limply between your legs. He still seems impressed. To warn your man, you send him a quick message about what to expect during his workout. And write him that you are already preparing everything for dinner at home. "Everything is fine, stallion! daddy wont b disturbed during his workout. Ill b home in 2 hrs"

Your neighbor is blocking the very stations where Jack wants to work out. He has memorized the gym rules and points out every pissy infraction to your husband. In the beginning. But the more Jack sweats, the more musk he exudes, the hornier your neighbor gets. And slowly he starts to change. Actually, sleeveless tops are not allowed in the gym. You both don't care. And your neighbor now too. With the white wifebeater he looks almost like Jack's gym buddy. And he's starting to smell like one, too. It's hard to believe that just a few minutes ago he was the overgroomed suit guy. His armpit hair is sprouting. He obviously hasn't been to the barbershop in a few months either. He stops regimenting your husband. The two of them start working out together as if they've been doing it forever. Steve (your neighbor) can't get enough of having Jack's sweaty workout shorts hanging in front of his face during the bench press. His bulge gets bigger and bigger. And the damp spots in his shorts aren't just from sweat. Jack asks if it's not time to go to the locker room. Steve replies that he was already afraid that Jack wouldn't even ask.

"is it k if i bring a pal 2 dinner" texts Jack. "he 1't want much mor then ur cum and mine." "then he shud bring big appetite" you reply. Shit, this time when Steve shakes your hand, nothing is limp between your legs. Enjoy the evening with the president of the HOA to the fullest!

Pics all found @thelockerroomblog

[complimentarysadist]

How to write a narc  (someone with little to no empathy)

-by a narc (I have NPD)

The way I write characters is by getting into their head so I´m going to attempt to put you into mine, let´s go.

Step 1: You´re a human person surrounded by badly written NPC´s

They´ll talk to you and sometimes be nice but there are things that they do that always remind you of the fact that you´re not talking to a person and instead to a bloody AI. These things include: playing into any stereotype ever no matter how dumb, doing some empathetic shit for not-you thereby being cringe/woke/a good christian girl(derogatory) because why help AI, being rude to you on any level (because how dare you insult the player character)

Step 2: You only feel good being kind/empathetic to people if they are NOT an NPC, otherwise it’s a chore

I know that a loooot of you are nice to NPC´s but you have to remember that it takes a lot less effort to select dialogue boxes and walk to places virtually. It´s miserable wording things politely and taking time out of your day to help someone with their homework when you KNOW they don´t even have real feelings.

Step 3: Consider the implications of the last 2 steps

Think about how miserable and lonely you are going to be because of your dumb, meaningless delusion. Even after a good day, you won´t feel like you have any meaningful connections in your life. You´re probably going to be (or feel like) a loner. You´re going to feel empty inside and lash out randomly because nobody understands you (even if they pretend otherwise) and at least bullying NPC´s makes you feel better because their inhumanity is the cause of your pain (totally not ur delusion don´t worry about it).

You ´re going to blame the NPC`s in your life for wanting so much and giving so little, not because they are giving so little but because they could never give you enough to convince you they are human. Think about how effective conservative media would be you. Think about how high and mighty you might feel if you joined a hate-group who hate on NPC´s that fit into stereotypes you particularly dislike. Think about how you wouldn´t even introspect about how horrible of a person you are because no NPC could ever judge you enough to make you change and no NPC could ever suffer enough to make you reconsider.

Step 4: This sucks, you NEED to find another Player Character

Predictably, this is going to make any relationship a minefield for them and detective work for you. You have to decide to what degree you think this AI is human and they have to constantly tiptoe around your wild negative assumptions (that maybe you verbalised or maybe they assumed bc they are used to them) lest you won´t treat them like a person. Keep in mind that step 2 still applies and verbalising your wild assumptions is effort AND it would make you look bad.

Step 5: Give up (if you´re going the evil/tragic route or whatever)

You didn´t find anyone! Idk, I never got this far. Probably double down on the hatred and try to bond with people that way because at least its an ego boost?

Step 5 but different: Find a PC OR find them-lose them-find someone else-repeat

This can be achieved via a subversion to your dumbfuck list of stereotypes (gamer girl who is good at games and is smart) OR by being admired or complimenting or your struggles being recognized OR by them immediately calling you out for all of your bullshit a week after you started dating in a manner so bizarrely vicious that it makes you feel some kind of way about it. Like, I didn´t think my wife loved their friends enough to abuse me like that but, fuck, I´m here for it, that´s hot.

This might be a temporary exception to your delusions, like, the detective game still applies unless you´ve fallen really super self-destructively hard for them, think: “oh, god, I´ll do anything just don´t leave me only-other-player-character-kun PLEASE!!”.

Step 6: Consider the implications

You´re going to want to be loved and accepted by this person for who you are. Unfortunately for you, who-you are is probably an NPC abuser. You are going to NEED them to validate the things you´ve said and done or at least like you despite it- lest they are siding with NPC´s and what kind of player would do that. You are going to need them to understand where you´re coming from and all the stereotypes that make these NPC´s non-human. You are still going to judge them and doubt their humanity- unless you´ve really truly fucking fallen for them like I did, at which point you´ll excuse almost anything.

You are also going to want love, without knowing how to sincerely show love. This one hits kinda close to home for me, idk how to explain it. I was never really sincere with people before. I mean, NPC´s could blackmail you with that shit, you know? Who knows what NPC´s are thinking! I have no idea!! It was pretty cringe, in hindsight.

Step 7: Unrealistic but valid character development

Did giving up everything for my wife make me a better person? Vaguely yes but I still have a personality disorder. You cannot cure a personality disorder. Unless it´s borderline, those people can improve like a lot, bless them. Anyway, this is fiction so you can actually totally ignore this fact and just do whatever, you know? Go live your dreams, cure everybody’s lack of empathy. Live your life fully and joyously and write what you would want to read because anyone who thinks your cringe is fucking wrong and that is a PROMISE.

And that´s pretty much all I can think of right now. Idk, repost with questions? If you have any? Also compliments, I mean, can you even imagine the ego death I´ve lived to share this for clout? To prove I´m better than other narcs? And more charitable? God, I´m so awesome and cool, it´s unbelievable.

(also, I don´t have antisocial personality disorders, that´s different. Those ppl can´t feel regret plus don’t do the empathy- I think? I don´t have that so idk shit about that.)

[ultrone]

✶ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 ꒱

synopsis. u steal ur girlfriend's sweatshirt

cw. no pronouns, just fluff & amber being moody

wc. 1.2k

Amber woke up to her alarm ringing, and as she rubbed her sleepy eyes, she realized it was Monday morning. She let out a deep sigh, knowing that it would be a long day at school. As she exited her bed, she glanced at her closet, searching for her favourite sweatshirt. But to her dismay, it wasn't there.

"Where the fuck is it?" Amber muttered to herself.

She had to find it, she just had to. It was the one that you had given her as a present, and ever since you told her how much you loved it on her, it had become her absolute favourite. She searched through her closet again, hoping that it would magically appear. She even checked her drawers, under her bed, and in her laundry basket, but still no luck. Amber felt a wave of frustration building inside her as she realized that she might have to go to school without it.

"Ugh, why does this always happen to me?" Amber groaned as she pulled out a plain black hoodie from her closet. It wasn't the end of the world, she reminded herself. It was just a sweatshirt. But it was the one you gave her, damn it, and she wanted to wear it.

She checked the time on her phone and realized that she was already running late. With a resigned sigh, Amber slipped on the black hoodie and headed out the door.

Amber found herself struggling to concentrate in class, feeling bored and disinterested. To make matters worse, she had already started her morning off on the wrong foot, and the only thing that could improve her mood was seeing you — though she knew she wouldn't be able to until third block. As she zoned out, she barely registered when Wes leaned over to talk to her.

"Hey, Amber, you look grumpier than usual today," Wes said, trying to be funny.

Amber snapped back, "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Wes. Maybe if this class wasn't so mind-numbingly boring, I'd have a reason to smile."

Wes raised his hands in surrender, realizing he had touched a nerve. The class continued in silence until Amber's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text from her girlfriend, causing a soft smile to spread across her face.

Seeing her sudden change in demeanour, Chad, who was sitting at the same table, piped up, "What got you so smiley, Amber? Did y/n text you?"

Wes and Chad chuckled, but it was clear they were just teasing her. Amber rolled her eyes and told them to shut up before she started typing a reply to her girlfriend.

y/n: can’t wait to see u later, i miss u :(

amber: i miss u too babe, can’t wait to get outta here and see ur beautiful face

y/n: awww ily ambs <33 i want it to be third block already

amber: i know, me too. i'm so bored in this stupid math class. wes is being annoying as usual.

y/n: lmaooo what's he doing now?

amber: just making dumb jokes with chad

y/n: well, just ignore them and think about how we're gonna have so much fun in PE later 😛

amber: oh yeah, so much fun in PE. just what i always look forward to, sweating my ass off and smelling like a gym locker.

amber: but hey, at least i get to stare at your tits, they bounce so nicely when you run ;)

y/n: LMAOO stfu ihy 😭

amber: 😙

As the minutes ticked by, both you and Amber continued to exchange messages, eagerly counting down the moments until you could be together again. Amber was so lost in conversation that she barely noticed the bell ringing, signalling the end of class. With a start, she realized that she needed to hurry to make it to the gym on time for PE. Quickly gathering her things, she rushed out of the classroom and made her way toward the gym, feeling her heart race with excitement at the thought of seeing you again.

As Amber made her way to the gym, her mind drifted back to the missing sweatshirt. She always wore it to PE, and now she was left without it. But worse than that, she knew that you would notice it was missing, and she felt bad for losing something that you had given her.

As she walked in, she saw her classmates getting ready for the class. They were all laughing and chatting, but Amber didn't feel like joining in. As Amber scanned the gym, she noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, she walked toward the lockers to get changed, hoping to see you there.

As Amber arrived at the lockers, she realized that you weren't there either. She quickly texted you asking where you were, but didn't receive a reply. She decided to get dressed and closed her locker, ready to head out to the gym.

Just as she was about to leave the locker room, you suddenly appeared from behind her and scared her.

"Jesus! What the fuck?" she exclaimed, jumping slightly. But as soon as she saw it was you, she relaxed and let out a laugh.

You immediately jumped into her arms, planting kisses all over her face, making her blush.

As Amber hugged you tightly, you continued to pepper her face with kisses, making her giggle uncontrollably. She then leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, savoring the feeling of your soft lips against hers.

But then, Amber's eyes fell on your sweatshirt, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. "Wait a minute," she said, mock-anger creeping into her voice. "Isn't that my sweatshirt?"

You looked down at the sweatshirt you were wearing and grinned sheepishly. "Uh, yeah. You left it at my place yesterday and I didn't want to say anything because it smells like you." You gave her your best puppy-dog eyes, hoping to win her over.

Amber looked at you with a mock stern expression before rolling her eyes and smiling. "I was looking for that all morning, you know," she teased. "But I guess now it'll smell like you too, so I'm okay with it." She leaned in to give you a sweet kiss on the lips. "But you better give it back to me after class or I’ll kill you," she said, her tone lighthearted and teasing. She didn't mind that you were wearing her hoodie; in fact, she found it endearing. But she couldn't resist a chance to tease you.

"Of course, of course," you said, grinning at her. "I wouldn't dare keep it from you. You know how much I value my life." You playfully crossed your heart with your fingers, pretending to be scared. "But can I at least wear it until the end of the day? It's so cozy, and it smells like you." You leaned in and nuzzled your nose against her neck, taking a deep breath to inhale the sweet scent of her hair.

"Mmm, sure. I suppose I can allow that for now," Amber said with a playful smirk. "But don't get too comfortable, because I'm coming for my sweatshirt after school." She ran her fingers through your hair and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before taking your hand and leading you towards the gym.

[opalcicle]

If They Call Me a Slut, You Know it Might be Worth it for Once

Ch. 10 Car Fries

Left you sleeping, borrowed some clothes. 😘

I send Bizly the text and a selfie in one of his big t-shirts from the back of the Uber.

It was late afternoon by the time finally I made it out of Biz's place. I'd made myself up some leftover pasta, washed the dishes, and found something to wear. He was still sleeping, butt-naked and sprawled out in his bed when I figured it was time to go.

I start a warm bath and a coffee when I make it back to my apartment. Humming as I prepare for a relaxing day and letting my good mood carry me through the self care. My legs are stiff, and my whole body aches like a bitch, but damn do I feel great. The water in the tub soothes my muscles nicely.

It's late in the day when I finally have the wherewithal to check any messages.

Grizzly

Dude you sooooo owe me a drink next time we're all out. jk. Unless? ????

No but for real we should catch up soon sounds like you've got a lot going on.

me:

Next weekend man, I drank so much last night.

Jaiden

Saw you on the dance floor. Didn't know you knew Tina. 👀

me:

Met her last weekend at Schlatt's. 😊

Hey do you know if she's into girls or like, just having some fun?

Charlie

Still up?

My heart skips a beat seeing his name. I respond without thinking.

me:

Yeah!

Wait I mean no, it's tomorrow now.

But I'm up, what's up?

There's a missed call from him as well, and a voicemail waiting. At the time I recieved it I would have been in Bizly's garage. I hold my breath for a long second, attempting to stave off the guilt creeping through my chest. Then I listen.

"Hey!" He sounds excited, "Hey, hi. I tried to find you tonight but I think you left. So like um. Are we okay? I mean, it seems like we're not, but also I miss talking to you. Dude, I ate a whole thing of fries in the car by myself and man it was weird as hell. Also I'm sorry I said I love you. I know that's like a crazy thing to do. But also, I do love you. You're for real the coolest person ever. We don't have to be together, or like anything at all. But you're my best friend, my ride or died, die? But died rhymes that sounds better. I think we should hang out. Maybe not tomorrow I drank a lot. But yeah I love you, full homo, get fucked about it, peace out, get friend zoned loser. Okay bye. Oh fuck how do I end the-" BZZZ.

Tears form in the corners in my eyes as I laugh from my belly in a way I haven't in at least weeks. I have to listen to it again, and then a third time before I can hear it without losing it a little. Holy shit, I was not gonna let him live this down. There's a reply from him when I'm done with the voicemail.

Charlie

Hey what's up?

Oh I texted you first lol.

me:

Dude you were wasted last night. Left me a spicy voicemail.

Charlie:

I WHAT

me:

How hungover are you? Pick me up for fries tomorrow?

Charlie:

Okay???

Still sore, the laughter hurts my stomach and I need to lay down. Without meaning to, I fall asleep in the coziness of my pillows before the sun had even set. I dream of peaceful nonsense and wake in the middle of the night.

There are more messages from the evening before, and I work on replying to them.

Bizly

Lookin good in my shirt

come back soon and I'll take it off for you

me:

Dude my insides need a break. 😅

Grizzly

Yeah man! Bunch of us are doing kareyoke on Friday if you wanna come.

Caryoke? Karaoke? Idk.

me:

Hell yeah, send me the location.

Jaiden

No idea man, good luck!

me:

Thanks lol

I figured I should say something to Tina too, and really mull over whats gonna sound right. Jaiden seeing us together, and asking me about it, really had me wondering what was up with the pretty girl I've been kissing while drunk. If I really am just someone she wants to kiss at parties, she's definately got the right girl for the job. Maybe she's just nervous for more? Maybe she likes to move a little slower? I settled on something short and simple:

Thanks for inviting me out, had a great time last night. I'd love to see you again soon.

Last night? Was it really just last night?

Since I'm talking to Charlie again I better send him the first edits for the photoshoot we did. Email sent. Okay cool.

Now what? I pace my living room, try to find something to watch, scroll TikTok from various uncomfortable positions on the couch.

Tina, Charlie, and Bizly. Somehow in one night I had gone from no prospects to three suitors. I giggle to myself, suitors was a strange way to put it. Maybe it's all a little too much. Too much making out, too much sex, and way too much in the feelings department.

I let out a heavy sigh as I try to distract myself with various apps. Maybe I need a vacation. Why not? I sit up, excited by the idea. I can edit from my laptop, take a break from streaming. Ah shit streaming, maybe I'd already taken a long enough break. No. No! I deserve a Holliday. Suddenly I'm browsing travel sites, checking flights, looking for sunny beaches and all-you-can eat buffets. What if I find like, an adventure package?

It's the wee hours of the night and I've eaten, gotten ready for bed again, and settled under the covers all while planning out the details for a next-month solo getaway. By the time reservations are made and flights are booked, my heavy eyes sink closed. Before I fall asleep, one fleeting thought, does this count running away?

In the late morning, confirmation emails remind me of my new plans, and the thought of running is long gone. A message from Charlie sits in my notifications while I start my day. I update my discord, "Streaming tonight, 7pm, dunno what we're playing yet," and close the app before replies flood in. Then I check the message.

Charlie

Hey lmk when you're ready

me:

Dude how do you wake up so early?

But yeah, ready anytime.

I feel nerves build as I wait for him to arrive. The new hickies down my neck are a bright red and I debate trying to hide them, but I don't want to lie. I still haven't promised anything to anyone, but hurting Charlie is easily one of the things I've started to hate the most. When he pulls up I have to fight the desire to lock myself into my apartment.

Climbing into his car, a million things go though my mind, and in the last second I decide on finding another new nick name, "Hey Char... lie, no wait that's just your name. I'm running out of these."

He smiles at me awkwardly, hand nervously readjusting his hair. "Hey," is all he says.

"Fries?" I turn the music up as we pull away. It's still the playlist I shared with him. Thankfully the songs fill the space so we don't have to, and inspite of everything neither of us can resist singing a good song. "I'm working late, cause I'm a singer. Boy you look so cute, wrapped round my finger," I sing the part of the song we'd long ago decided was my line.

"Your twisted humour, makes me laugh so often, My honey bee, come and get this pollen," he continues before we both join together for the pre-chorus. Inspite of all the ways I like to bug Charlie, I always let him have the melody when we car duet. He loves showing off in song and I could never deny him that. We do our goofy dance moves and add our weird vocal quirks, and by the time we've made it to the drive through were laughing at eachother uncontrollably. Charlie has to stop and calm himself before we pull up to order.

Down the road, music low again, I make an attempt at normal conversation, "You know I've never asked, are you okay being the one whose always driving us around?"

He glances at me, raw emotion on his face. Fear, or maybe closer to worry, is plain in his eyes. We don't usually do deep conversation. Even me asking him how he feels about something I expect, it's definately off course.

"Y-yeah, its our rhythm, we just do it this way," he replies.

"Hmm," I barely respond, lost in my own thought. It's quiet until I speak again, "I don't ask you how you feel about a lot of things,"

It's not a question, and he doesn't answer. But after awhile he sighs, "Soo.... You saw Bizly again,"

This isn't a question either, but I sigh back, hand darting up to my neck. "I did," there's a sadness in my own voice that I don't dare call attention to.

"That's fine," he says it so quiet.

"Is it?" I hear my own voice demanding the question.

"It's-" he pauses for a long time, "let's go somewhere and talk."

Charlie takes us to a parking spot near some old baseball diamonds. They're mostly empty today. We pick at the fries for an unbearably quiet few minutes.

"I, uh- look if you'd rather be with Biz..." He trails off.

"That's not it," I shake my head. "It's like, just sex,"

"I know. I can't do that," he looks out over the diamonds through his windshield.

"No, Charlie I-" I hear myself getting defensive and take a breath, "I'm not trying to choose between anyone, I don't want him more than you,"

"It's fine-"

"No, listen!" I cut him off, anger showing its head again. I close my eyes and take several deep breaths this time. "I want you Charlie, and I like you, a lot. Not just as friends,"

His head turns to me and he looks confused.

"I'm sorry I got so mad at you. I'm sorry I freaked out. I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you." Tears immediately start falling from my face and I feel like an idiot. Charlie deserves an apology, an explanation, even if it means I have to experience my own emotions. "I'm scared, Char. I don't think I can be what you want- that I can handle something serious again. And now it's out there, now I'm having feelings and you're having feelings and we can't put them back where they came from. It scares me,"

"It's okay," he tries to sooth me, but I'm not having it.

"It's not okay. You're sad. I'm sad. Everything's fucked," my words come out softer now, the anger and frustration disappearing with my confession of fear.

"We really don't talk about our feelings," he says, looking back out the front window, "I guess this was going to boil over at some point,"

Coldness creeps over my skin as I anticipate him saying he doesn't want to see me again. Instead he takes my hand. We sit there, and he lets me cry. It's uncomfortable, but it's a start. If we've got all these stored up emotions, they have to come out somehow.

"I've been scared too, I don't want to lose you," he says when my tears slow.

"I'm not going anywhere," then I remember the vacation I booked, "except actually, I've got a trip coming up in about six weeks, and I think like maybe, that also counts a little bit as running away." I look at him and smile, exaggerating my discomfort in a toothy grin.

He laughs. This fucker looks at me and laughs. I start to laugh too, doubling over in his car until I have to catch my breath.

"Oh my god, you're so dramatic," he teases.

"You're the weirdo who likes me," I poke fun right back.

As the scarier feelings subside for us both, he asks, "What now?"

"I think maybe we talk about it more," my face scrunches at the thought, "but like later, because I haven't done this whole communication thing in years, and I missed you, and I want to make you listen to the message you left me,"

"Oh gaawwd," he groans, "I was hoping you forgot about that.

"It's really sweet, and I want to make you blush again," I wink at him before pulling up my voicemail.

As he listens his face and ears get red and I watch him in adoration. There really is no going back now. We've opened the door to something strange and new, and will just have to see where it takes us.

I can't help but laugh as the voicemail ends. "Full homo?" I ask.

"Shut uuuup," he complains, shoving fries in his mouth.

"It's cute. Made me laugh," I take a fry as well. "Charlie, I-" it's hard to say the words. The red in his face is still present, making it so easy to look at him. I lean over the center console and kiss him softly in the cheek. "Me too, full homo,"

The blush creeps up his ears and an easy, goofy smile lights up his face. He turns quickly to look at me and the moment feels so right, so much like us. He kisses me softly, slowly. I kiss him back. The heat starts to build between us and I pull away before it can get any further.

"Third time's the charm?" He says it lightly.

"Hmm?" The kiss transfered his blush to my cheeks. I was bright red as well.

"For a first kiss? Third time's the charm,"

"Yeah, Charlie, third time's the charm." I lean back in the passenger seat with a little grin as he pulls the car out and drives off.

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 28.

i scrambled around the house trying to find my jacket. of course, i had to lose it at the worst possible time. i had to pick up my parents from the airport in 20 minutes and i needed to leave about 5 minutes ago. what a good impression after not seeing them in almost 2 years. johnnie and jake were still asleep, so i didn't bother waking them up to ask if they've seen it.

the only reason i really needed my jacket is because i did not want my parents to see the tattoo. they'd talk my ear off about how i tainted my perfect skin or some shit. and on top of that, they'd blame johnnie for influencing me to get a tattoo and hate him for it.

i could feel anxiety building up inside. i was going to introduce them to johnnie and tell them he's my boyfriend. of course, they can't do much about it and they can't make me break up with him, but i wasn't so sure they'd approve of him. i took a deep breath and decided to just take one of johnnies hoodies.

with one last deep breath, i walked out the door and was on my way to the airport. i called my mom to let her know i might be a little late due to "traffic." of course, that wasn't the real reason, but i didn't want her giving me shit this early in the morning.

"hello?" she picked up after 5 rings. "hey, sweetie."

"hey, ma. i might be a little late, traffic is a pain right now." i explained and turned onto the highway.

"oh, that's fine," she sounded slightly annoyed, "luggage is taking forever, anyway."

"sounds good, i'll see you soon." i replied before hanging up. i sighed and got lost in the song that was blaring over the radio. my phone buzzed moments later with a text from jake.

jake: hey are you out picking up your parents or where did you go

me: yeah why

jake: cause you woke me up

jake: jk

jake: cause aren't they coming here?

me: uhh no i didn't think you guys would want them there and i don't either so

me: i'm taking them to their hotel room

jake: oh okay

jake: do you want me to wake up sleeping beauty

me: actually yes please we're supposed to go out for brunch in like 2 hours

me: tell him not to stress about time though cause they still gotta check into their hotel

jake: on it

jake: i'll have him call you when he's ready

me: thanks stink

jake: bye.

i parked on the side of the street and waited for my parents to walk out after i texted them and let them know where i was. i watched as their old asses waddled out of the sliding doors. they threw their luggage in the trunk and climbed in the back seat together.

"hey, honey." my fathers raspy, tired voice greeted as he buckled up.

me and my father didn't talk much, it was a phone call or two every couple months but nothing more. definitely not as much as me and my mom even though id rather speak to him than her.

my mother greeted me as well. whenever they were both situated i began to drive towards the hotel. i cleared my throat, feeling as if i was about to vomit. i needed to get the talk out of the way, so i did. "mom, dad, i have a boyfriend." i blurted.

they stayed quiet. my mom spoke up, though. "well, isn't that nice?" she seemed to sound slightly sarcastic as she glanced towards my father.

although, he seemed much more enthusiastic about it. “it’s about time, i was starting to worry!”

i rolled my eyes at the backhanded comment. “well, i was wondering if you guys wanted to go to brunch with him after you two get settled into your hotel room.”

my mom seemed hesitant while it was an immediate yes from my dad. he encouraged her quietly in the back, hoping i wouldn’t hear them over the music, but i did. the music wasn’t even that loud, anyway. i had no clue why my amazing mother wouldn’t want to meet him or wouldn’t want me to even have a boyfriend at the age i am, but i told myself not to stress about it. at least my dad was supportive.

-

i sat on my parents’ bed and caught up with them. they told me how they’d been planning on traveling the world sometime soon since they were starting to get old. my father insisted i try to join them on some of their trips, and i agreed. they also filled me in on how they were planning on handing down the owner shift of our cafe solely to me. a weird mix of anxiety and excitement came with that. nonetheless, i was over the moon about being able to own the cafe. i couldn’t wait to tell johnnie. they were planning on selling the house, my childhood home, and getting a smaller house in a more discreet area. they seemed like they had the rest of their lives planned out. my mom ranted about how she has gotten more into painting and will start sending me the things she has already painted for me while they’re working on packing. she also said she’d be sending me boxes of things from my childhood room so i could decide whether to keep them or throw them out. i was really looking forward to that box.

in return, i filled them in on the past few months of my own life. i explained how i met johnnie through the cafe late one night. of course not the details, though. they don’t need to know he was driving illegally. i also explained all of the ups and downs of the cafe that they’ve missed. then, the worst of all of this. i presented the scar in my hair that peeked through on the very top of my forehead while explaining how my apartment got broken into. expecting scolding from my mother, i mentioned how i had already moved in with johnnie because of those circumstances. of course, i mentioned jake in passing since it was the three of us living there. to say the least, they were shocked about how not boring my life was at this point. my mother almost seemed disappointed, maybe at the fact that i had more going for myself than she ever did. surprisingly, my father was proud of me for pulling through all of that bullshit. growing up, he has always been super distant so this came as a surprise to me. i thought maybe things were turning around in our relationship, but definitely not me and my mothers.

my phone buzzed in my pocket and i immediately answered it. my heart was racing as i picked up, far too excited to hear johnnies voice after this already long morning. “hold on, i’m getting a call.”

i stepped out into the hall and greeted johnnie brightly. “hey, baby.” he responded, i could hear the smile in his voice. “i’m ready to go whenever.”

“do you want to start heading there now and get a table? they’re all checked in and they’re just getting done unpacking their shit, so we won’t be too far behind you.”

“yeah, that works. i won’t lie, i’m really fucking nervous. i feel like i’m about to shit my pants, to be honest.” he confessed. i heard him call jake downstairs so he could drive johnnie there.

“don’t be. they were actually pretty calm at the mention of you and everything else has happened. i think this is going to go a lot better than i expected.” i shifted my weight to the other leg.

he sighed, “that’s good to hear. i’ll see you soon.”

“alright, bye.” i hung up the phone and made my way back into the hotel room.

[lucius-morningstar]

You Bug Me

Meeting Vaggie was a trip, one Lucius didn't need, sadly Charlie disagreed. Who knew helping her would be such a pain. -------------- Lucius: She said her name was what, Maggie? Charlie: Vaggie. Lucius: What kind of a name is Vaggie? Charlie: It's the name she gave, even if it isn't her real name give her time. She's new here and needs time to adjust. Lucius: Did she tell you she was new here? Charlie: Well.. Kind of?, Point is she's here now and we need to help her. Lucius: I'm going t- Charlie: *steps in front of Lucius* No. You aren't going to do anything. She's new, she's nervous and wounded. We don't need her more stressed on top of all this. Lucius: Hmm.. Charlie: I know you're uneasy with the idea of her staying here but just give her a couple days to heal. Lucius: Charlie, she lost an eye and got some weird damage done to her back- Charlie: All the more reason to let her rest. Lucius: My point is it takes more then a couple days to heal. Charlie: I know, but she's in a new place and scared. Please just give her some space. For me. Lucius: ..I hate when you do that. Charlie: I know but, you can be a bit.. Intense when I bring sinners here. Lucius: Need I remind you what happened the last few time- Charlie: No. Lucius: Alright we'll make a dea- not that kind. If you are more alert I will give her space and once she perks up a little and starts showing signs of doing better you let me ask a few questions. Alright, sound fair. Charlie: ..Fair. Lucius: Until then keep Razzle and Dazzle near by just in case. Charlie: I can do that, thank you. Lucius: No problem, you hungry? Charlie: Honestly, yea.. Do you mind- Lucius: I can make soup for our stowaway too. It's easy on the stomach and filling. Charlie: Thanks Luci, you're the best. Lucius: Don't call me Luci in front of her at least. I need to keep my image. Charlie: Done. Lucius: *Sighs* Just a few days Lucius, you can handle one stowaway for a few days... Maybe a week or two at most. Then she'll be out of our hair. * Lucius: So how's our "guest" doing. Charlie: Seems more alert today, she's in a lot of pain. Lucius: Yes I suppose losing an eye cause a lot of pain. Let's go see her. Charlie: Promise to be nice, she might be a bit uncomfortable with you. Lucius: I'll do my best. * Charlie: Hi Vaggie.. How are you feeling today. Vaggie: Like my head was split open-.. Whose he? Charlie: Oh um right. Vaggie. This is my brother Lucius, he helped me bring you here. Vaggie: He didn't touch me did he? Charlie: Nope, he waited out of the room. Vaggie: Good.. No offense. Lucius: None taken, you're not my type anyway. Vaggie: ..So um what do you want? Charlie: Well I came to change your bandages and before you worry Lucius will not be looking but is it okay if we ask a few questions? Vaggie: I.. Suppose thats fine. Lucius: You do your thing Charlie, I'll look away. Charlie: Right. Lucius: So was that your first extermination. Vaggie: In a sense yes. Lucius: That's not an answer. Vaggie: My mind isn't feeling too clear okay, ask another. Lucius: Did an angel do that to you? Vaggie: Yes.. Lucius: Why didn't they kill you. Charlie: Lucius what the fuck? Lucius: It's just a question, they usually kill then, Not leave them alive. Charlie: Still that- Vaggie: It's fine, the bell or whatever rang signaling them to go I guess their time here was up. Lucius: ...Is Vaggie your real name. Vaggie: Yes. Lucius: Sounds kinda made up. Charlie: Luc- Vaggie: So what kind of a name is Lucius, the king of hell couldn't come up with something more creative so he named you after himself. I know he's the king of pride but certainly he had a better idea then that. Lucius: *Growls* Excuse me- Charlie: Lucius enough, I get you're curious but don't push the name thing would you. No more questions, you're stressing her out. Lucius: I'm stressing her ou- Charlie: Yes. Let's just drop it for now. Please. Lucius: *Snorts* Fine. Charlie: Thank you, sorry Vaggie he's just a little paranoid after some.. Personal things that's happened. He means no harm really. Vaggie: Right..

[welcome-back-home]

Hi! Noticed your asks are open, (and also, I love your recent work! The dynamic is so cute!!) and I want to request a wally x reader who is a popstar, I wanna see your take on it!!

Also, Have a great day! 💜💜

thank you so much! im so glad you liked my work! i really appreciate it ^^ you have a nice day too and happy reading!

link: puppet reader

note:this is a massive story im so sorry

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the day started like any other...at least at first, wally does his daily painting routine at his favorite painting spot, underneath a tree with a easel in front of him. the painting he was making resembled a apple cut open with many colors inside in a lemony yellow backgound. he figured his beloved would enjoy it. no matter what personality, they always loved his work and almost immediately hangs it on their wall.

he then paused, mid motion of dipping his paint brush into red paint...now thinking about it, he hasnt seen you all day or hardly anyone for that matter. normally you would show up to say hello or he finds you during his journey to his painting spots, but he was so caught up in his own little world to notice that...time passed and you still haven`t shown up.

a chill goes up his spine at the thought of something wrong might`ve happened, getting a breif flashback of the time his beloved developed a daredevil like personality and they almost got themselves killed.

he looks at his painting as he set the tools down, "it can wait" he thought, as he ventures off to find you.

walking to your home he noticed the design has changed again, it was covered in colorful music notes and fake plastic vinyl records here and there and music is playing from inside. a pleasant musical theme. however over the music thats playing inside was the sounds of construction behind the house and friends talking. wally thought you where back there building something. so he walked behind the house to not see you, but sally, julie, and howdy. the three are apparently working on building a stage, it looked to be almost done as its firmly standing tall and decorated with star covered curtains and fairy lights.

the neighbors have been busy most of the day making a mini concert for you, a treat you 'the famous pop star' wanted to give to the community as a thank you for being great friends. of course you didnt ask them to make the stage, they offered to make it for you. the three of them was having fun putting the last finishing touches on the setup while frank gets chairs, barnaby gets snacks, and eddie finishing his final mail run for the day, poppy was nowhere to be found. wally wonders where both you and poppy could be...but he figures the both of you are busy with something else important for this setup. so instead he went to say hello to sally,julie, and howdy.

"hello friends!" wally greets the trio while he waves "wally! where have you been? you was about to miss the show" sally asks with a smile, a bottle of glue and a jar of glitter in her hands, she was making glitter covered shapes on the stages platform to give it extra flare "im sorry, i was caught up with my painting and did not notice the time" wally sighs as he confessed where he has been most of the day, embarrassment and a hint of remorse in his tone "thats ok silly! you`re here now!" julie speaks up, understanding that anyone can lose track of time when they are doing something they enjoy, "am i still able to help?" wally offers, even if its kind to late, howdy holds out a paintbrush to him thats coated with green paint "can you help me paint the rest of the stage?" howdy smiles, even if he had it covered already with his four arms, he would love to have some help.

with a grin wally accepts the brush and helps howdy paint the wooden stage. everyone else returned from their tasks and soon the set up was finished, poppy showed up after a while to sneak someone behind the curtains of the stage and took a seat with everyone else in the small crowd.

and then the show begins.

the curtains open to reveal you on the center of the stage, the fairy lights illuminating the stage and makes you shine brighter then anything in the world in wallys eyes. you was smiling, dressed in pop star getup, and face framed perfectly with the new hairstyle you have for the day. you looked like a angel standing on that stage.

"hello neighbors!" you said cheerfully into the mic thats on a stand in front of you "i wanted to give you something in return for the never ending kindness you've always given me since ive moved here" you continued, a spark of confidence in your voice "i`ve written this one for someone special, i hope you all enjoy it" you say as a song starts to play from the speakers.

as you began to sing the world practically stood still, your voice was so beautiful it practically made wally swoon. his heart sped up and his face grew warm as he rests his head on the palm of his hand, never taking his lovestruck gaze off of you. a song you have made for him you`ve sang with all the confidence in your very soul, each lyric and note he will forever know by heart. he has never fallen as hard as he did at this moment...

and even when the song finished he never took his eyes off of you or even stopped listening when you started the next song, he hung on to every word. just enjoying every second of your beautiful performance...

[cleoselene]

My roommate ordered pizza for us all last night from our favorite place, this Uncle Rico's joint that's across the street practically. It won a national pizza contest for traditional and god it is some immaculate stuff

also got super stoned. I've switched to lozenges mostly lately? Edibles are great but when your tolerance gets high enough eating it straight up starts to feel wasteful. A normie casual pothead can eat a 10mg gummy and feel blasted. I take 500mg and I feel. pretty good. So it just started to get EXPENSIVE

But lozenges you suck on them and they absorb under the tongue and enter straight into the blood stream and it is a WAY more efficient way of consuming than straight up edibles. I was downing 500-700mg of RSO to get something going, but a 100mg bag of lozenges gets me HIGH ALL DAY. like ALL day.

Anyway the lozenges help with the nausea i have from the pain meds. All out of anxiety meds sadly but my roommates have been wonderful. Like they are devasted to lose Ernie, too, but they have been just so sweet and loving to my depressed ass

watching that Escaping Twin Flames documentary. damn cults are fucking fascinating but bewildering to me how people get caught up in it. Though this one woman who was ex-military said one of the reasons she didn't question her cult leader's fucked up orders was because she'd been conditioned in the military to obey and I was like, QUE INTERESANTE, HMM? Definitely says something about what military training does to a person.

Been doing battleground in WoW all week. PvP is really satisfying when you feel like shit. Alterac Valley is my favorite so I'm glad Korrak's Revenge is running now.

anyway, protip: if you lost a pet, never go to the subreddit for it. I thought it might be helpful but so many people were discussing how guilty they felt for euthanizing their pet, and I hadn't felt that way, UNTIL I READ EVERYONE ELSE FEELING IT. And it made me feel like some kind of monster who threw my baby's life away. It is an irrational fear, I know. he was like 12 years old and the vet said he had more problems aside from the cancer that had spread all over his body, and seeing him suffer that last 24 hours was intolerable, for both of us. I would get upset and he would sense that he was upsetting me and it was just a cycle. I know I did the right thing. The vet was trying to convince me it was the right thing. But god if that subreddit wasn't a lesson in "never go to the internet for anything"

I will get another dog, I just don't know when. When Bobo died I literally went to the shelter the next day and got Ernie. But I was living alone in a city I hated with no friends, that companionship wasn 't something I could just give up and stay sane in grad school. But now I have roommates, and a couple dogs in the house, so we'll see. I want a young dog, maybe even a puppy, even though my mom is pleading with me not to. I just don't want to go through this for another ten years at least, it's just gutted me. I got kinda sick this week from immune system crashing/grief/horrible meds

anyway, the weather is really nice. 54 degrees and clear. I had a peppermint hot chocolate to seize the night, not because I am cold (I am never cold lol) but because in usual Florida weather, any hot drink is a no-go. It's so lovely, I am glad it got cold enough to enjoy one

life sure does suck, but love you guys and the people in my life. As Lady Gaga says: if the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you

[orcelito]

Hello would love to see your knife collection if you’re down to share them 🥺

Yesssssssssssss I love my knife collection 🙏🙏🙏🙏 can't exactly easily take a pic of them all together rn bc that'd take too much time, but I can share some posts I've made of my collection

Here's the last time I took a group pic of them all ^ it's outdated tho and it's missing a few pieces.

Here's the cool shits I got in Tennessee last summer ^ love the damascus. The switch blade is so fun to play with. Haven't fucked around much with the butterfly knife yet tho.

Here's one of my favorite knives ^ beautiful butterfly design pocket knife. Feels so good in the hand. I keep it in my bag.

Here's some throwing stars I bought in Estes Park in Colorado, the place The Shining was filmed. (I did not visit that hotel lol but I did catch a glimpse of it!). I'd flown over and I only had a carry on bag so I had someone mail them to me hfkshfkd also this was literally like a month or two after indiana legalized throwing stars. Hilarious story all around.

Here's the cute little leaf knife my sister gave me that I accidentally smuggled onto Two planes during the aforementioned Colorado trip. I forgot it was in my bag </3 but bc it looks like a leaf when closed, they didn't realize it was a knife. And I only realized I did this Afterwards, when I was unpacking my bag. Whoops! This is nowhere near the only time I've accidentally smuggled knives through security checkpoints (did it again just yesterday, in fact!) but theyre definitely a lot more strict about this stuff at airports. So it's a special kind of Whoops. Oh well it ended up fine

Andddddd here's a nonbinary knife that is currently still missing. Idk it's somewhere. I'll find it eventually.

I think there's also another damascus pocket knife I dont know the location of. I also bought another knife in the Tennessee trip that has my last name on it (bc of sentimentality) so I haven't shared pics of it. It's nice tho. I also have At Least 2 knives I got from my dad's house... maybe more??? Idk a lot of things were grabbed and it's been a few months. I need to go thru my shit I got from him lol. Oh I also got an axe thing from him. And a sawblade. Fun stuff!!!

I ALSO...

Bought this historical sword from a thrift shop. It's from uhhh oh yeah The Knights of Pythias. Symbol of the peace lily + FCB for Friendship, Charity, and Benevolence. Overall an organization with a purpose to promote peace. Did a lil research when I first got the sword, though I don't know Too much. Someday I wanna go digging to see if I can find record of the previous owner of this sword, Charles W Stephens (you can see it on the blade in the last pic). That day is not today tho lol.

Anyways yeah that's my knives collection as far as I can remember it rn 🤔🤔🤔 might have forgotten some. As u can probably tell, I have A Lot of knives. Not uncommon for me to lose track of a few every now and then hfkshfkd

EDIT: I FORGOT.. like 4 knives. I also have 2 necklace knives. One is a lil pocket knife and the other is a mini dagger in a sheath. Then there's uhh another dagger. And MAYBE a 4th knife. I don't remember. I really should formally add those to the collection at some point. They've just been in the dubious "I'll put those away eventually" territory so I haven't even taken pictures of them hfkshdjd but trust me they exist I prommy. I use the dagger necklace in my kitchen sometimes for opening packages. Idk it's just hanging out there. And it's beautifully sharp and wonderfully easy to access. If it weren't so heavy on the chain I'd consider wearing it more often.