#caretaker hazel

[kanerallels]

Back to the Valiant liveblog and we're on chapter 8 which means we're getting to the really good stuff now prepare for me to be abnormal

Also I feel really bad for Saville being stuck the way she is. Her dad is sick, by no fault of either of theirs, and she has to care for him. Which, in this scenario, means she isn't free in any sense of the word. She'll be here for a LONG time

[astroph1les]

maroon [h.c]

summary: hazel’s fight with tucker made you realize how much she means to you. caretaking and ass-kicking ensues.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language, violence and blood, reader has a slight panic attack, attentive and kind! reader, making out (for the distraction of course) mutual pining, sweet and fluffy, hurt/comfort (my weakness), women being bad-asses.

word count: 3.5K

a/n: this is both a request and won a poll. that scene still makes me wince to this day. and yes, the title is a taylor swift song. the lyrics, though, have nothing to do with the actual oneshot. i love you all and enjoy <33

You had told Hazel that agreeing to this would be a bad idea. After Tim had approached Hazel with the chance to humiliate PJ and Josie in front of the entire school at the pep rally before the big game, you got a bad vibe from it.

The sound of Tucker’s foot kicking Hazel’s eye echoed ferociously in your head.

It all happened so quickly, you could barely process seeing Hazel’s limp body on the ground. The sight made your stomach turn as you shot up from your seat in the bleachers to check up on Hazel. You glared in the direction of Tim and Jeff and that fucking psychopath Tucker— who you were pretty sure was a thirty year old man.

Everything had already been so tense in the group after PJ had humiliated Hazel in front of everyone. Finding out that PJ and Josie had started the group to get with Isabel and Brittany was an eye-opener to what their true intentions were.

This crossed the fucking line.

You were running over to her still frame, trailing right behind Isabel. You kneeled down next to her ribs, a bit of her blood getting on your jeans but you really couldn't care less.

“Hazel,” you whisper her name, wincing at the sight of her bleeding eye.

No response.

Panic settled in you as Stella and Brittany began to lift her body. Your eyes watered as you covered your mouth at her now blood-stained collared shirt.

“Is that true?” You heard Isabel ask PJ and Josie who had also come down from the bleachers as the staff and the rest of the students dispersed. Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. “That’s why you started this?”

You whipped your head to the two girls, eyes flaring with anger and hurt for Hazel.

Josie immediately began to protest.

“N-no, not entirely—“

“Not entire—Okay.” PJ cut her off loudly. “Listen guys. It doesn’t matter…the reason that we started this.”

You felt your skin itch with fury as you watched them drag Hazel’s body out of the gymnasium. You couldn't even listen to whatever bullshit excuse PJ had to say anymore. Sylvie began to walk away as did you and Isabel.

All you could focus on was if Hazel was okay.

The next few days, you didn’t leave Hazel’s side. You were at the hospital that same night at one in the morning with Mrs. Callahan in the waiting room and by her bedside when she came out of getting blood tests and prescribed medications. When the group would go over to her house and spend a few hours after school being attentive and showing support, you would stay the night tending to her wounds.

It was night three and the swelling had just begun to deflate, her eye revealing itself just a bit. Mrs. Callahan had been really understanding about you spending the nights as much as you knew you were intruding. She had pulled you aside after the second night to tell you how much she appreciated you and everyone else staying by her side.

Especially you — for a reason she didn’t disclose to.

You were crouched down next to Hazel’s bed, helping her with the eye drops that were prescribed by the doctor. Hazel was wearing one of her grandpa sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. Splotches of red, purple and yellow covered her entire face.

“Hold on, Haze.” You leaned in a little closer to her face to focus on the little opening of her eye.

Hazel had been fidgeting the entire night and you had no idea what had made her this way. She muttered an apology before sucking in a deep breath. You were gently cupping the unswollen side to give you leverage.

You pretended not to notice her untouched eye flicker to your dry lips.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as you held the dropper right above the swollen skin.

You merely hummed in response as you were focused on her eye. Hazel waited until you put the instructed amount into the dry eye, making sure they all got in. You couldn’t risk her getting infection.

“Are you sure?” She pressed again.

You set the dropper down onto the tray full of doctor prescribed pills and remedies for her abrasions. Your brows furrowed as you held an expression of disbelief.

“Haze, I— why are you asking me if I’m okay when you got the shit beat out of you?” You emphasized, chuckling in disbelief.

“I know but—“

“Seriously. If it wasn’t for this fucking club, this wouldn’t have happened to you, Haze.” You expressed with more irritation laced in your tone.

You admit that you haven’t been getting the most sleep since the event; maybe three or four hours at best. Your mind was clouded with worry for Hazel’s well being.

What if Tucker gave her a concussion that would damage her brain forever? What if she went into a coma? What if she dies in her sleep?

Okay, and you also tended to overthink.

“Hey,” Hazel’s tone was gentle with a hint of stern attitude.

You hadn't realized that hot tears were leaving your tired eyes. You had been so busy taking care of Hazel that you hadn’t fully processed what had happened to her. Not a single tear had left your face until now.

“He could’ve really hurt you, Haze.” You whisper, raising your hand to wipe away the tears from your hot cheek.

Hazel remained silent as she knew deep down that Tucker could’ve done a lot more damage than she had received. She just didn't think that you cared this much about her; let alone cry for her pain. She noticed your chest rising and falling faster than she’s ever seen in her entire life. Your bottom lip quivered as you attempted to hold back the burning tears that were threatening to leave your eyes.

“I know but I’m doing okay. You’ve helped a lot, okay? More than I could ever ask for.” Hazel reached for your shaking hand, taking it gingerly into her grasp.

You nod, not trusting yourself to talk as your throat ached from how much you were resisting to let yourself cry. Hazel sat up slowly, her back aching and cracking from being inactive all day.

“Hazel, the doctor said to refrain from sitting upright.” You begin to scold her but she waves her hand at you.

“I’m okay. I-I’m fine.” Hazel shut her eyes, letting out a grunt as she adjusted her body so that she was leaning up against her bed frame.

You reach forward to push her falling strands out of her face, frowning at her wincing.

“Has PJ or Josie—“

“No.” You remark, refraining from rolling your eyes. You already knew where that question was going and still had a grudge against the two.

What hurt the most that you knew Hazel was going to forgive them; specifically PJ. You knew that they didn't hurt her directly but none of this would’ve ever happened if the club never existed. Then again, you never would’ve become friends without the club.

You would’ve still been just admiring her from afar as you passed through the halls.

“Why did you stay here?” Hazel hummed.

You suck in a deep breath as you continue the night routine as normal. You grabbed the tube of ointment and began to apply it to the slit on her high cheekbones.

“I didn't like the thought of you being alone during this.” You admit, hoping it didn't sound so smitten. “I am your friend, you know? I care about you.”

Hazel’s eyes followed the natural arch of your eyebrows and slope of your nose as you spoke. You knew you looked tired but it was truly the least of your worries.

“I know. Now, at least.” Hazel replied, her gaze finally locking on your lips.

“You didn't think I cared?” The dip between your brows depended on her confession.

“It’s nothing against you. I never really had good friends before. It’s nice to not have shitty friends for a change.” Hazel shrugs her shoulders, fiddling with a loose string on her pants.

“You deserve good friends, Haze. You deserve so much.” You express, your voice keeps a gentle yet passionate volume.

The thought of Hazel getting mistreated all her life made your chest ache. Her eyes were darting all over your features as you pulled your hand away from her aching face.

“Well, thank you for all of this.” Hazel replied, not knowing how to take all of your kind words.

You breathe out: “Yeah, of course, Haze.”

You almost missed how she began to lean into your body. You cleared your throat as a tension fell over you guys. You stood up from the bed, brushing your messy hair out of your face.

“I’ll head to bed now. Goodnight, Hazel.” You nod, turning your back to her as you couldn't have her see you so bothered by the fact that she had leaned into you.

You didn't want to have high hopes but they were there. Way, way, up there. Fucking cloud nine up there.

But it wasn’t right. Not yet.

The Huntington versus Rockridge game arrived faster than you could comprehend. You were wedged between Annie and Hazel, waiting patiently for the game to start.

Her eye swelling had completely gone down at that point to where she just had deep brushing all over her pale features. You were happy to see her darling blue eyes once again. Mrs. Callahan insisted that you two come to the game. You were reluctant but maybe it could be something better to do other than sulk around and be annoyed at Josie and PJ.

As the announcer began to cheer on the Vikings, you noticed Josie and PJ walking up the bleachers, stopping right in front of Hazel. Your eyes rolled as you waited to see what they were going to say.

“Okay, first off, PJ has something to say to Hazel, so…” Josie starts, panting through her words.

You stare at PJ along with Sylvie, Annie and Hazel. Her jaw drops, not knowing what to say exactly.

“The apology. Do the apology. Do the apology we said.” Josie muttered to her in a rushed tone.

“Okay! I’m sorry that I called your mom a skank.” PJ exclaimed.

When Hazel merely sighed and avoided her gaze, PJ continued. “And I’m sorry for saying that you have no friends really loud in front of all of your friends.”

Hazel looked down, glancing over at you as PJ could tell she still wasn’t satisfied with her apology.

“And I’m sorry for being an asshole a lot of the time.”

You and Annie give her ‘really?’ looks when she says a lot of the time.

“Most of the— All of the time!” She finalizes.

Josie hums in agreement with her best friend.

“And I do think that it's nice you always have notes and then you type them up and email them to everyone…” Hazel rolls her eyes with an attitude because she knows that they’re helpful. You’ve told her this a million times before. “And I really appreciate it.”

Hazel stares at her blankly for a moment, trying to process what she was going to say.

“Do you forgive me?”

Hazel’s smile creeps onto her lips as she nods with a soft ‘yes’. You send PJ a forced grin before paying attention to whatever Josie was talking about. Something about the Huntington players targeting a single player on the Rockridge team and how you all needed some sort of distraction to save the players.

“Oh, now you want a bomb?” Hazel smirks at the opportunity to blow shit up.

You would be lying to yourself if you said your bruised features didn't make her more attractive to you. You had followed Hazel and the group regardless of your feelings towards PJ as honestly, you didn't have anything better to do.

They still were your friends.

You and Hazel were crouched behind the tree across the yard as she had formulated some sort of bomb out of the blue. Where the hell did she even get this shit?

“Is it the red wire?” Hazel said out-loud, uncertainty laced in her voice. “Shit, or is it the yellow?”

You stare at her in shock.

“You don’t know?” You whisper-shouted at her.

“I-I get them mixed up. Fuck.” Hazel replied back in a panic.

Just then, you hear Annie shout from across the field that the game was about to start. Hazel glanced up at you as she hurriedly guessed which wires connected to one another and grabbed your hand in hers. You blushed as she tugged you along, sprinting across the field.

You did not wear the right bra for this.

The two of you jumped into the group's presence, your arm dripping over Hazel’s back as you all ducked from the expected explosion. After a few seconds of silence, you and Hazel looked up to the tree to see it was still intact.

“Hazel, it's not working.” Annie tapped her shoulder.

“Fuck. Fucking…” Hazel grabbed the remote, releasing your grasp to aim it at the explosive.

“Maybe try turning it on and off again?” You suggest as you stare at the metal antena.

Everyone was clamoring over Hazel to see what went wrong. You hear the crowd grow more and more in volume as the football team and cheerleaders begin to hip-thrust.

“Okay, Plan B, we get the cheerleaders to make out.” Annie stated as she got up and jogged over to the squad.

“What?” You ask in disbelief, trailing after her as did the rest of the group.

“Guys! Guys, kiss each other!” You shout over, making crude motions along with PJ, Annie and Sylvie.

Hazel had run up top to the bleachers, shouting at them to makeout from there. It was no use. Isabel and Brittany were still upset with PJ and Josie, ignoring their requests entirely. You groaned as you noticed the Huntington team begin to make their way onto the field.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered before you feel someone shove your shoulder.

It was PJ.

“Go and make out with Hazel.” She instructed, jerking her head up to the bleachers.

“Wha—“

“Just go! Hurry!” PJ was now full on pushing you now, staring at Hazel who had seemed to give up on the cheerleaders.

You run as fast as your legs can take you, calling her name from the distance. You’ve never made out with someone before and this is how it was going to happen?

Fuck it.

Hazel turned to you, asking: “What do we do?”

You grabbed the side of her head, pulling her into a messy kiss. Her hands gripped onto your biceps through your navy sweater, trying to go along with your jagged movements. You could hear Annie telling everyone to ‘look!’ as the slobbery mess became a sensual kiss.

You inhale as you feel Hazel take the reins, gripping your face to show you how to control your jaw. Her tongue ever so slightly grazed your bottom lip, humming at the feeling.

Was she always this good of a kisser? Who the hell has she been hooking up with?

The makeout turned into soft gentle kisses, your smile growing as you pulled her in closer.

“Oh, wait. I’m gay!” You hear Stella-Rebecca say as you pull away with a sigh from Hazel’s experienced lips.

Hazel tugs you back in with a grip on your face, seeming to completely forget about why you were even making out in the first place. Her cold rings dug into your cheeks making you crave more and more of her.

Me fucking too, Stella.

The announcer calls the attention back to the game that people came for, causing you and Hazel to pull away with a soft smack. Her hand was at your waist now, both of you staring at the field of players. You pull away, letting out a nervous chuckle as you begin to walk back down to the track field surrounding the football one.

Hazel followed behind you, seeming to be out of it as much as you were. You had not been listening to a goddamn word PJ was saying as you thought about Hazel’s hands on your face and her tongue in your mouth.

How can you move on from this?

“They kissed on the mouth,” Sylvie stated cheekily, pointing at your flushed figures. “With tongue.”

“Okay, yeah. It was for the good of the school so if anyone is asking, we’ll do it again.” You quip back, trying not to make it seem like a big deal when all you wanted to do was have her back on you again.

Josie turned to you guys, suddenly realizing what Sylvie had said. “When did this happen?”

“There were no other distractions! The bomb didn't work.” You protested.

“They’re gonna spray the field.” Annie muttered.

You would’ve missed it if she didn’t repeat it in a much panicked and louder tone.

“We’re gonna have to run.”

“Fuck, more?” You complained as you ran beside Hazel, the insides of your thighs burning from how fast you were sprinting.

You had kicked one of the players away from Jeff, a flood of adrenaline running through you. Fuck, that felt good.

Josie had taken Jeff into her grasp, tugging him up and off of the grass. PJ had her hands over the sprinkler, ready for the pineapple juice to spray everywhere. You stare across the field at the group of Huntington players, eyes widening in a panic. Stella, Isabel, and Brittany joined by the group's side, too, staring down the rivals.

Were you really going to beat the fuck out of the rival football team with the girl you’ve been crushing on and just made out with? To save Jeff nonetheless?

The main player in the middle removed his helmet, staring the group down. He began to scream at the group which resulted in the group screaming back. You saw a large man run up to you, swinging his leg to your chest.

You dodge the force and grab his calf, twisting it clockwise to hear a loud crunch before grabbing onto his helmet guard and throwing him off of you. You feel a blow to your back to see another yellow jersey player, his helmet in hand.

“Fucking asshole!” You scream before throwing a kick to his crotch and throwing a punch to the middle of his face, blooding seeping onto your knuckles.

You don’t know exactly how so much blood got on you. It had all been one huge blur up until you saw Hazel getting punched in the stomach.

You ran over with a shout as you swung a hard punch into his cheek to throw him off guard. Hazel ended it with a kick to the ribs and another punch to the jaw before he fell to the ground.

Your entire body was aching and Hazel looked so weirdly attractive covered in blood.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as gently as ever as she grabbed onto your wrist, leading you to the rest of the group.

“Yeah,” you pant, feeling a burning sensation run up your spine. Definitely not. “I’m okay.”

You had blood splattered all over your blue jeans, running up the sleeve of your sweater with a few dots here and there on your face. There was a collective silence when everyone realized how much damage they had done.

You slowly turn toward the crowd of peers and adults, eyes wide with shock on what had just happened. The sprinklers suddenly turned on and Tim shouted to turn them off once he realized it was pineapple juice.

He slowly began to clap for you and the rest of the girls as the half-dead, half-unconscious Huntington players lay all around you. You let out an awkward chuckle, grabbing onto Hazel’s blood-lathered arm as you lean into her touch. You waved at everyone, snuggling into her maroon-stained shirt.

“So, that was…” You turn to her, not knowing what the fuck to even say about what had just went down.

“We’ll process it tomorrow.” She shakes her head, blood-stained face and all.

“Right, yeah.” You nod mindlessly, slowly blinking at her.

“Did you like the kiss—“

“Are we together now?”

Your question threw Hazel off guard, letting out a soft chuckle as she nervously scratched the back of her neck.

“I mean, I don’t personally just make-out with anyone.” You push out a gust of air, staring into her radiating blue eyes.

“Me neither.” Hazel rushes out, a shy smile on her lips. “So… yeah?”

You nod, laughing out a ‘yeah.’ You look around at the football field now stained with red from the bodies.

“To think, all it took was fucking up some football players for us to get together.” You grin cheekily.

“Oh, I think some of them are actually dead.” Hazel stated as you threw your arms around her neck, more of the blood spreading onto your sleeves.

“Well, the red makes your eyes pop. It’s kind of hot.” You half-joke which causes her to shake her head with a chuckle.

The forgotten tree then exploded, causing everyone to pause in their tracks. The excitement and cheers from the crowd came to a complete halt. You cover your mouth with one hand as the tree caught on fire. Hazel buries her head into your neck, groaning at her failed bomb attempt.

Hazel was right; you’ll process this tomorrow

taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

idk if i've ever talked abt Hazel's backstory on here or not but it's suuuuuper petty and dumb LMAOOOO

basically at some point the PizzaPlex started getting complaints from a few parents that their daycare didn't 'meet standards,' in that the 'child-to-caretaker-ratio' wasn't acceptable. So the solution was to bring an old concept out of storage and dress it up to look like a third daycare attendant! Enter Hazel, a project scrapped after the execs decided that having a rabbit (Bonnie) and a hare (Hazel) was one too many bunny-shaped mascots.

so they rush Hazel together into what is, functionally, a beta-phase of her project wearing a children's-caretaker costume, and management says 'good enough!' and they drop her into the daycare with almost zero training/socialization programming, and Sun and Moon are left with the worlds newest of new hires with little to no warning. Okay you three have fun byeeee!

Sun, not wanting to deal with training a clearly unfinished new hire, and not wanting to essentially share his daycare with some unqualified stranger, 'welcomes' her cheerfully and immediately 'offers' her her own special spot in the daycare: a corner far from where the kids normally congregate, with a small, seldom-used storage closet for her to use as her 'dressing room.' Hazel, not knowing any better and just happy to be here, is SO EXCITED and is ecstatic to start her new job as a fellow daycare attendant- and to be brought under the wing of Sun and Moon as their friend and equal. WRONG LMAOOOO Sun actively ignores her whenever the kids are around and subtly discourages them from playing near Hazel's corner, and Moon keeps to himself so often anyway that even if she had been a more active participant, they wouldn't have interacted much to begin with. She's left on her own, watching and waiting and, eventually, wondering if she was following Sun's instructions to 'stay right there and try not to have any problems' incorrectly.

At some point she wakes up and Realizes, this whole time she had been MISERABLE and LONELY and stuck on the outside looking in, and for what?? Because someone didn't feel like taking the extra three seconds to explain to her the 'proper' way to clean the daycare, or how to calm down a child thats overstimulated and cranky? Because she wasn't made correctly? And who had made her that way, anyway? And why? Why was she like this? Why hadn't anyone fixed her? Why was everything so wrong? And why did it feel like it was all her fault???

To cope with the abandonment, the anger, the loneliness, the sadness, the confusion, she twists it all together into an obsession with her own suffering and inflicting it on others in every way she can- mean jokes, twisted threats, uncomfortable bluntness, sowing strife and distrust into every relationship she comes in contact with, etc, etc. She's angry and hurting and longing for something meaningful- why should everyone else get to be happy?

Is that childish as hell. yea. is it stupid as fuck. yea. is she a dramatic little shit. yea lol

[daisys-reality]

𝙿𝙰𝙲.𝟶𝟷𝟾 : 𝙱𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚊 '𝙳𝚁 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏' 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎! - 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢 𝚆𝚎𝚋𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝙿𝚃. 𝟷)

Hello my fellow shifters 🌱 This pac reading is just for entertainment purposes and for everyone who plans on shifting to a DR that is fantasy/royal/webtoon/isekai-like + for those who want to get some inspiration on how their DR self should look like. Almost all of my DR selfs look different and I thought this would be a fun idea to get some inspo for future DR plans hehe. If you like to read more pac readings from me, feel free to check out my  masterlist as well! Also, I don't own any of these beautiful pics, they're all from pinterest.

🛑 This reading works a little different, so after choosing a main picture/pile, you'll have to choose some more numbers and they will be different for each pile. Please choose a number for each category and go to your pile:

EYE COLOR: 1️⃣ 2️⃣

HAIR COLOR: 1️⃣ 2️⃣

------

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴

Eye color: 1️⃣ strong pink / purple 2️⃣ yellow/orange (tiger eye)

Hair color: 1️⃣ dark blue / purple  2️⃣ dark blonde

Overall vibe: Skin complexion on the paler side (regardless of skin color), creamy skin, round face, strong jawline, round/soft body type with good amount of muscles, short to medium height, darker hair (so here: dark blonde or dark purple/blue hair), emotional/moody, dreamy, affectionate, passionate, dramatic, attractive, psychic, serious, melancholic, burdened/exhausted by life in general or by responsibilities and contracts?, dark colored and black clothes, long dresses, pearl jewelry, big jewels, piercing eyes, strong intuition, powerful presence, being restricted by something or holding yourself back, composed anger, embodiment of karma, fearless gaze, sensual, devoted and eager for power.  

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾

Eye color: 1️⃣ light green  2️⃣  black

Hair color: 1️⃣ light pink 2️⃣ icy blue

Overall vibe: Graceful, tall and slender, long legs, medium skin complexion (regardless of skin color), light colored hair, can’t stand still, arrogant/conceited, condescending, flat chested, cold, emotionless, hidden control freak, easily misunderstood, wise, tragedy as blessing in disguise, intriguing, willing to do the dirty work, you're someone who stands up for themselves, your words might sting, lowkey intimidating/scary to men, doll-like beauty, ribbons and frills, light-colored clothes, poisonous beauty, you’re like the poison that is being used as remedy to another poison, you bring balance and transformation into that world even if people can’t see it.

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

Eye color: 1️⃣ red 2️⃣  orange/hazel

Hair color: 1️⃣ blonde 2️⃣ brown

Overall vibe: Warm colored hair, dark colored eyes, tending more to be muscular built, good posture, strong/heavy jaw, positive and warm energy, Lion-like, majestic, medium height, strong body and mind, spiritual, cultivated, mesmerizing, capable, responsible, peace-maker & peace upholder, humble, nourishing, caretaker, hardworking, abundant, generous and supportive, at times resentful or feeling trapped, you're someone who works a lot behind the scenes and who likes managing, someone with a helper syndrome but at the same time suspicious of others, resistant to change, keen-eyed, all-seeing, full and healthy hair, wearing clothes that enhance your body shape and curves.

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁

Eye color: 1️⃣ light pink 2️⃣  light purple/blue

Hair color: 1️⃣ red 2️⃣ white

Overall vibe: Curvy body shape but overall more lean, pretty waist-hip ratio, cute cheeks, a teasing beauty, perhaps a little fidgety or just nervous energy (?), a hard working person, robust or rough but more so in personality than in appearance, foreign or exotic looking, well traveled, a bit tired looking - perhaps your gaze/eyes but you have a youthful glow, you look like you went through a lot, perhaps that's also why you sometimes give off this ‘rough around the edges’ vibe, detail oriented, a little nit-picky, tendency to be a bit extreme sometimes, fearful vision of life, controlling, looking like someone who needs some time off because you're always overdoing it, organized and resourceful, very busy, someone who carries higher wisdom, perhaps religious or someone who deals with divine energy, someone who people wonder about who they really are or what they have in mind, you are someone who questions things a lot and you don't trust (opinions, informations) easily, there is also something innocent or pure about you, innocent arousal and naive sensuality, compelling and almost addictive to men and with other women there is always this unresolved tension, I see you long dresses with pretty low cut cleavage or turtle neck dresses with see through parts, very teasing dressing style, you might play around with different or even exotic styles, dresses with a tight waist cut or wearing corsets, and also something about cords, fans and scarfs (worn like a vest).

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴

Eye color: 1️⃣ grey 2️⃣ dark grape purple almost black

Hair color: 1️⃣ dark brown 2️⃣ blue

Overall vibe: Piercing eyes, petite and dainty looking, short, baby face, innocent look, very feminine, childlike-charm, adorable, dreamy looking or the vibe of a daydreamer, naive, hidden depth, light hearted, soft beauty, does not fear darkness, patient, prudent, seeking growth, visionary, beaming smile, mystical, easy-going, clever, soft and frilly clothes, light or pastel colored clothes, many layers on the dress (=volumios dresses), hard to grasp, very perceptive, clothes and accessories with ribbons, dots, frills and lace, cute hair accessory, perhaps flower themed dresses, delicate jewelry, adventurous spirit, intriguing, someone who is able to deal with tragedies in a light hearted way, clean beauty, someone very tidy, fresh and eager energy, perhaps sometimes lacking a sense of self, very moldable identity, loves learning and very open-minded persona.

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝚇

Eye color: 1️⃣ red 2️⃣ (apple) green

Hair color: 1️⃣ white 2️⃣ purple

Overall vibe: Round/soft body type, bold appearance, voluminous hair, intense eyes, attractive/alluring eyes, perhaps freckles, optimistic but also kinda nonchalant attitude, inspiring, shining beauty, tall, slightly arrogant looking, emotionless face/poker face, very good-looking, lush hair, no problem standing up for themselves, often clashing with other women and appearing bitchy to them, other women are often competitive around you, one of a kind type of beauty, dangerous like a panther, exotic jewelry, feathers, gold jewelry, there's something dark about you, some people could claim you’re secretly a witch, you seem powerful to others, a little rebellious as well, someone who causes chaos wherever they go, very brave, regal energy, god/goddess like or god-complex? lol, hard to get, naturally seductive, wide flowy clothes, showing skin, very luxurious clothing, intimidating, keen eye, a bit stealthy, someone who hates wasting time and energy (on useless stuff/people), easily bored, expansive presence, and wild passionate person, your the center of your own world, dangerous like still deep waters - which you shouldn’t underestimate...

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

[harlowcomehome]

Can’t sleep:

A Hazel and Jade fic.

“Are you going to bed soon?” You asked as you started to undress, tossing your phone down on the hotel bed.

“Hold that phone up, I’m trying to see something” Jack cheekily responded, smirking tongue to cheek. As he held the phone up to his face. His glasses slid down his nose.

“Jackman- where are our children?” You gasped, earning a laugh from Jack that shook the phone.

“They are brushing their teeth and then they’ll come say goodnight to you. Let me see” he smirked.

It was perfect timing when both of the girls came running into the bedroom.

“Is that mommy?” Jade giggled as she and Hazel climbed onto the bed beside Jack.

Jack handed the phone over to the girls, it had only been a few hours but you missed them dearly.

“When are you coming back? Will you be here for Christmas?” Jade sighed, holding the phone as best as she could, only showing one eyeball and an ear.

“Christmas isn’t for another few weeks” Jack chuckled, knowing she was eager to open her gifts.

“Let me hold that” Hazel huffed, clearly ready for bed as she held the phone at a better angle to get her and Jade in view.

“I’m only going to be gone for a few days but I know you two will have fun with Daddy” you smiled, trying your best not to seem anxious.

Jack was obviously a capable parent, but you had pretty much taken on the role of primary caretaker in your family and took it very seriously.

“Daddy said we can go to the zoo tomorrow!” That was always Hazels favorite place to go.

“We gets to see animals!” Jade giggled as you talked to the both of them about it.

Eventually, the girls were exhausted and it was time for bed, you had prolonged the call for as long as possible. Jack was yawning in the background, so you knew it was time for bed.

“I’ll call you back?” Jack yawned once more and you nodded knowing not to count on it.

Jack had successfully got both Hazel and Jade to lie down in their rooms, quietly making his way back to the bedroom.

“Come on Lucky” he whispered, getting Lucky's attention as he hopped out of his dog bed and followed Jack to the bedroom.

Lucky curled up into the dog bed you had in the bedroom for him, while Jack climbed into bed patting the sheets for his phone.

He had turned the light off, the room slightly illuminated by the small nightlight in the master bathroom. He FaceTimed you, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

“Hi handsome” you smiled, eyeing over his features. He had small indentions on his nose from his glasses, his eyes were slightly red from exhaustion.

“Mmmm hi” he mumbled, fighting to keep both eyes open as he shifted around in bed.

“Retainer” you sternly reminded him.

He wagged a finger at you, grateful that you remembered knowing he wouldn’t have. He rummaged through the drawer beside the bed and quickly put it in his mouth.

“I love you so much” his speech slurred a little, mainly from exhaustion but also with a retainer-related lisp.

“I love you baby daddy” you whispered making him chuckle.

“You know mmm- I have a love-hate with that” he smiled, opening one eye to see your face.

“Are we sleeping on FaceTime?” You asked realizing his shoulders were already relaxing as he repositioned you on the pillow beside him.

“Please?”

“No snore strip huh? I guess I’ll let it slide” you teased knowing he was already halfway to dream-land.

Jack unlike you could fall asleep in a matter of minutes, some would argue even seconds.

You admired him for a moment as he started to loudly snore.

You plugged your phone in and whispered I love yous, something you had always done before you started to toss and turn in bed.

You had just started to fall asleep when you heard a commotion on the other line, it sounded like something had fallen, and a loud crash echoed the house. You would have convinced yourself you were dreaming if Lucky hadn’t started to bark.

Jack's eyes shot open, grabbing his phone and instinctively ending the phone call to check out what was going on.

He had grabbed the Louisville slugger he kept on the wall for “decoration” and made his way to the kitchen.

You continuously called his phone, and after getting his voicemail for a third time you started to pace around your hotel room. You were worried, thinking maybe calling wasn’t the best choice, thinking maybe if his sound being on blew his cover.

Jack saw that the kitchen light was on, wondering who could be in there, he cautiously took a step forward, trying to be as silent as possible.

Lucky bolted out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Lucky! Shhh” A small voice came from the ground, and Jack recognized immediately that it was Jade as she started to giggle.

He set the bat down gently, not wanting to scare her as he turned the corner.

Jade was sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, surrounded by pots and pans. Her face and hands were covered in cream cheese frosting that Lucky was now licking off of her.

“Jade! You scared me!” Jack noticed immediately the frosting that was stuck in her hair and all over her face.

“I was hungry and I couldn’t sleep” Her eyes started to water, worried that Jack would be angry with her.

“Where did you even find this?”

“The cabinet” she mumbled quietly.

“Bug, come get me next time. You could’ve got seriously hurt” he started to pick up the pans and pots from the floor and placed them on the counter.

“You’re not anggy?”

“No but you know you shouldn’t have been eating this, especially at this time of night.” Jack picked the half-eaten frosting up and set it on the counter too.

“Why do you sound different?” Jade couldn’t focus on anything Jack was saying.

He ignored her question, remembering you had originally been on FaceTime and were likely freaking out. He reached for his phone and snapped a quick picture of Jade before FaceTiming you.

“Jack- baby- is everything- oh?” You stifled a giggle as Jade waved to you. She was still sitting on the floor covered in frosting.

Jack flipped the camera over to himself, “Yeah… everything is fine. I’m going to start the shower and have her wash up and go back to bed.”

You wanted to laugh, but you knew deep down Jack was exhausted.

“Hazel slept through the whole thing” he smirked, as he and Jade walked over to the bathroom.

“I’m kind of surprised you didn’t too” you teased.

[silky-nereid]

— jealousy is not a pretty look on you

Yanderes being jealous

Crumbled King / His majesty Casimir Dragomir

Yandere!Crumbled king who notices you getting too comfortable with the local vegetable stall and he will secretly do anything to make the vegetable stall owner not reputable to you.

Yandere!Crumbled king who smiles when he finds a rotten vegetables in the bag and purposely puts them in the front of the bag.

Yandere!Crumbled king who purposely makes himself sick after eating the meals, only for you to rush over to him and desperately try to help him.

“He..I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t notice. I’m sorry, your majesty.”

You pulling his hair back while hearing the him seemingly throw up the remaining food into the bucket. Your hand rubbed his trembling back; perhaps he overdid it.

His hazel eyes flickered over to you and your hands gripped the handkerchief, wiping away the remaining saliva and food from his lips. The cold rings on his bony hands gripped your shoulder before tightening.

You left for a moment to get the pitcher of fresh water to help him get rehydrated and replacing the bucket with a empty flower pot. You helped him drink and covering your nose, dumping out the contents of the bucket in the dirt patch in the backyard.

“I’ll figure something out,” you mumbled.

You removed the pot from him and immediately replaced it with the bucket. You poured out the contents and stopped, bones ached. Standing in the hallway that pointed to the small dining room to where he was, you looked down then to the window that shown the greenery that you occasionally stepped onto before entering this place.

You couldn’t quit besides if anyone found him; former king and stain on the royal family. He would end up tossed away in an unmarked grave and it would be your fault for it.

“I will try to plant some vegetables for us.” You sighed, walking into the dining room and sitting down next to him.

Caretaker / Ellison Sawyer

Yandere! Caretaker who continues to treat your injuries and reassures you that nothing bad will happen to you but often has to hide you whenever anyone comes into the farmhouse.

Yandere! Caretaker who notices you clinging to the remaining shirt that was accidentally left behind by their friend and notices you stubbornly refuses to give up the shirt.

Yandere! Caretaker who manages to get the shirt to wash it to return it to their friend. They took off the fur/feathers that somehow stuck on the shirt and was surprised that it wasn’t torn.

“I’m returning this to them, okay.” They held up the shirt and away from you. “No, stay there.”

Your pupils dilated, staring up at the shirt and a light purr/chirp escaped your mouth. Your limbs stretched out, rolled on your back while you sprawled on the tiny couch, then you went to them; still desperately trying to get back the shirt.

They lost. Your face was buried in the shirt that somehow still held remnants of their friend’s scent, limbs curled up on the tiny couch.

“Come on.” They waved around food in front of you. “I know how much you like this.”

Your dilated eyes looked up at the food and dug in the food which they managed to swipe away the shirt to wash it again despite being covered with fur/feathers in such a short time. Soon, they would look down while putting the shirt back in the washing machine and return back to the living room and wipe away the remains from your mouth.

Race car driver / Richard Temples

Yandere! Race car driver who begrudgingly takes you to your therapy appointments and doesn’t enjoy how the therapist’s eyes are constantly on you when you do specific movements.

Yandere! Race car driver who watches you on the empty track, desperately trying to work on your skills on relearning how exquisite you were before the accident that pushed you into a long awaited recovery.

Yandere! Race car driver who watches old race videos where you win the competitions and sees the joy in your eyes. He sees how much the accident took from you and occasionally heard the phone calls that rang through the empty halls that once held extravagant after parties.

Your hand trembling, grabbing the mug and putting it on the counter before using your better hand to grab the mug, drinking the contents.

“You don’t need to be here every single day,” you said. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Practicing done for the day,” he said. “Just had to see you again. Do you still have to go to that?”

You looked at him before sitting down on the wooden chair, putting the mug down on the table.

“You mean my therapy?” You replied. “From the accident that you caused. Yes, I still have to go to that to help my recovery.”

You looked at him again, still wearing the racing suit covered in vibrant colors due to the amount of sponsors, helmet plastered with the same amount of vibrant sponsors on it. You gritted your teeth while getting up and grabbing the countertop for stability.

“Why are you even here?” You asked. “Don’t say that you want to learn from me.”

“But,”he said, “I didn’t want it to get that bad, you need to understand. It was a mistake.”

“Then, why didn’t you tell my crew chief?” You questioned. “Why—get out, just get out.”

Cult leader / Charis

Yandere! Cult leader who helps you with your appearance the day after finishing your cleansing ritual since you must’ve been too exhausted to dress yourself.

Yandere! Cult leader who makes you stay awake during the sermon and has you stay after to give you daily reassurance that you’re still magnificent and has assigned simple jobs for you.

Yandere! Cult leader who notices the wandering gaze of a fellow member on you, their eyes shouldn’t be looking at you with such deviance. He kept you close to him for the remainder of the time you were sent to work on the simple tasks.

His hands pulled you closer to him, he smiles and kissed your temple in the same spot.

“Such deviance cannot be tolerated.” He looked down at you. “I know that it is not your fault but they need to be dealt with.”

“Can you perform the cleansing on them?” You looked at him. “It helped me and it must help them, right?”

“My heart,” he said, ” I cannot perform it on them. I only manage to save you in the mere seconds before you almost were fully tainted but they’re far too gone, mind wrapped in deviant intent. The only option is to remind them.”

Dinner was pushed further back than usual but you still managed to sneak in small pastries to eat them to hush your aching stomach that was still recovering. You sat in the front row of the chapel, your hands still trembling seeing him as your eyes focused on him who bound them with rope; face was somewhat recognizable and blouse was drenched in dried and fresh blood.

“Don’t be afraid.” He smiled, holding the hot poker. “Wicked, blasphemous eyes such as yours must be exterminated.”

Noble friend / Evangeline Abel

Yandere! Noble friend who always has her hands on you such as on your waist, shoulder or just simple hand-holding or elbows interwoven with each other.

Yandere! Noble friend who still has to dress in her mourning dresses and she noticed a fellow noble asking you to dance despite you starting to wear color after finishing your mourning period. She still pretends to be saddened by the loss of her late spouse but feels a boiling rage in her because she should be the one asking you to dance, not them.

Yandere! Noble friend who holds you close to her while you wear somewhat soft colors despite your heart still aching from the loss. She still tries to understand the feeling but she can’t help but feel the still boiling rage as why were you still thinking about a person who was long gone?

She untied the robe and sat down across from you which the latest day you had taken sanctuary in burying your face in the vanity. Her hands held a handkerchief that always seemed to be soaked with your tears from the previous days, her hands softly squeezed your shoulders that hung low.

“My dear,” she said, “always crying these days that’s my job. I’ve put our son to bed and the night is still young.”

You looked up at her, eyes reddened from crying despite the vibrant colors of your undergarments; you should be happy now.

She carefully placed a soft tune on the recently bought item called the gramophone and helped you up and her hand wrapped around your waist.

“Let’s dance,” she said. “A simple waltz will suffice, I will lead it. You shouldn’t let other people dance with you, my dear.”

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic Joel Miller

It's been a time in my world. Busyness and writer's block has been troubling. I think a lot of it stems from just feeling behind in general, so I thought I might launch into a catch-up campaign for myself ... in reading fic.

And I had a lot of this fella to catch up on.

So hold onto your butts, my friends, because herein lies the fics I loved in my several weeks of just. reading. Joel. <3

Spinner by @insomniamamma Joel has such a caretaker streak in him that being observant and taking to a neuro-divergent reader rings so true. I love a huddling-for-warmth tale--I do so enjoy a good cuddle with a gruff broad man.

The Reason for the Season by @prolix-yuy Now here's a fun idiots-to-lovers take where one of the yearners is our Joel. When Ellie has questions about old traditions, he takes her to the other idiot--a school teacher with a warm smile and some yearns of her own. Aka you. I very much enjoyed this tale of finding the many varied and true meanings for the Holiday in all its forms.

Please Mister Please by @grogusmum Hazel imagines Joel as a kindred lovely soul, one that has a song of his own that brings sorrow, just like yours does you. But is seems he has a better song in mind....

Carpe Diem by @boliv-jenta I love that fic writers want nothing ore in the world than to tell Joel he's going to get taken care of and doesn't have a choice in the matter. I'm so glad this one afforded him the chance to actually speak and grab the moment...even with a little help from a friendly weed...

Year of Small Joys: A Quiet Night In by @keldabe-kriff I'm in love with this little slice of post-apocalypse life. It gives me hope that even if the world falls apart, there will still be the chance to find the quiet somewhere, and with someone...

Simple Pleasures by @julesonrecord Listen. i don't care if the info trail goes cold or not. If it means getting off with Joel--even this cranky, somber version of him--I already consider my self lucky.

Able by @ladamedusoif I have no doubt that a cane would come in handy during an apocalypse, and for many reasons. It's fun to watch Joel realize it too, and to walk the reader through one of the things he knows--a full-blown panic attack. Disabled reader represent!

Snooze by @tightjeansjavi Short. Sweet. Quiet. A soft drabble of everything I want--now that Joel is safe and sinking into a domestic life, he loves him some naps. And with naps comes warmth and lazy days, and a big ol' bear of a man to cuddle with.

Mine by @secretelephanttattoo I really really love this beautifully written meditation on Joel and Tess' relationship; how they share intimacy and how they won't. It's heartbreaking and beautiful and so very real.

When His Eyes Open by @undercoverpena A beautiful train of thought from Joel as he opens his eyes to find you awake next to him, thankful for what you represent in his life. It's so soft and wonderful. It's a drabble, but I could read a whole multi-chapter fic of this.

.

BY @something-tofightfor

Birthday Kiss #7: Joel Miller If I was stuck at the end of the world, I'd be thankful to have a Joel Miller to find me in the early hours, knowing exactly where I'd be and exactly what day it was, just to sing me a Happy Birthday.

Smutsgiving Feast 2023: Turkey - Joel Miller It's Thanksgiving in Jackson and Joel's been helping you get settled in after a traumatic past. Everything you need is here--family, an invitation, Joel carving a perfect turkey with his sleeves all rolled up...and perhaps there's more going on upstairs later....

Snow and Mistletoe (series) Rachael loves Christmas and I always look forward to her holiday fics since the coziness always comes through so strong in them. This series is no exception by far. A no-outbreak fic where you own a music store and Ellie's your niece and Sarah's her best friend and the two girls pull a parent trap on you and Joel in the very best way. It all unfolds against a backdrop of different holiday gatherings--social, work, family--and all of them sweet and beautiful and enticing in their own way. The season may be over, but this zinged me back in time a couple of months and I'm not mad about it. In fact, I'm thankful for it.

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BY @missredherring

Wrong Until You Make it Right A yearning Joel is always good in my book, but the earnest way he years after his plus-sized coworker here is so very juicy and sweet. I love to see him watch a lady do what she does best.

J.M. + "Tell me what you like" I think if I was stuck at the end of the world and asked Joel Miller to read to me because I had no glasses and he said yes, I might die of happiness on the spot.

Warming Up Joel deserves a good teasing, which is a little of what he gets for sleeping in while you go outside to shovel and then return to his furry, heated body to warm up. and, of course, maybe get a little recreational. After all, nothing warms up cold hands like all the bits and pieces of a Joel Miller.

A Flower in February I really love this story. Rachel does a good job of placing you firmly in the QZ with all of its bleakness, giving you one spot of color--a crocus in the snow. After a spot of bad luck with some bad people, Joel's there to set things right--well, as right as it can be. And I'll take it, because in the world of TLOU, it's everything.

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BY @ezrasbirdie

Observations This is so so sweet. Neuro-D reader is so observant about not being accepted or invited to be part of groups, it breaks my heart. But Joel sees her. Worries about her. Likes her. And he's getting better at pasta.

Sticky This one left me a mess. Maybe not as messy as the toy reader gives him to play with while she's gone or while she's on the phone, but I may have had to wipe the drool off my chin...

Crystal Now this one was made for me. Here we have a witchy reader and Joel has a lot of thoughts about her. Surprise though, because none of them are negative. They're curious and wondrous and endearing. He's bewildered by the hanging herbs and the rocks and oils, but they make her happy and that's all he asks. Sweet man.

Sparks Fly Two words: eating ass. That's what falls out of reader's mouth under the influence and perhaps that's a good slip because there's gonna be plenty going in her mouth--and Joel's--later on. And it's gonna be hot like fire.

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BY @blueeyesatnight

There's a Word for It As Blue says in her notes, this is where she lives. As in, it's what she does best. This here is a no nonsense meditation on Joel and Tess and how they met and how they functioned. There may or may not have been a word for what they had...it was many words. And they're all here in order, comprising this fic.

Trimmed This fic hit something deep in me, the way it uses memory is really lovely and really feels steeped in canon. The little things we share with someone, not worth mentioning to anyone else, hard to put into words how meaningful it is to you personally or maybe you don't know until they're gone...or until a familiarity with someone else triggers it...

Trouble This is a masterclass in examining Ellie and Joel after they return to Jackson. It weaves in and out of their shared POVs, examining their feelings about who they've become, how they justify Joel's actions and words, who they are to each other, how far they can trust one another, and maybe how tainted that love is. But it's still love all the same. It's amazing and packs a really good punch.

Honest Mistake A short and sweet trope reversal where Joel makes an honest mistake and instead of retrieving Tommy from a situation, kidnaps a boss instead. I love the way the brothers' relationship comes out in the dialogue.

Trying This fic broke my heart a couple of times. Blue imagines the Joel of beforetimes and then bridges the gap to Tess. The man just keeps at it, over and over....because its' what he knows. It makes his arrangement with Tess and actual heaven and I thank her for it.

I Like My Girls A Little Bit Older - (Over the Hill pair) And I like that Joel likes it. He certainly has a type and the reader in this fic has a real sassy, no-nonsense attitude that can meet Joel's in a pretty good dance. And that last sentence may be a spoiler for this story...maybe...

I Know Just What You're Saying - (Over the Hill pair) I love that when Joel is having trouble understanding a teenage girl, he has the foresight to go talk to someone what WAS one once. And that he cares enough to ask for the biiggest favor...and that the reader has no choice but to give it to him.

I Thought I Could Be Someone - (Over the Hill pair) There are so many forms of grief and some of them come out of nowhere from sources you never even knew. Blue does beautiful job in finding that moment here, all wrapped up in an unexpected softness from Joel. This is my favorite of the series yet.

Just Like Heaven - (Over the Hill pair) This brought me back to being a teenager, that "does he like me or want to keep me at arm's length" feeling, that "should I kiss him or is he gonna kiss me" feeling. Of course I get the ending I'm hoping for though! Blue is not gonna leave us hanging when it comes to Joel Miller.

That Summer Seemed to Last Forever - (Over the Hill pair) I still don't forgive Blue for this one. How dare she make me love so bittersweet? That's not to say it isn't beautiful and artfully done. Grab yer hankies, all.

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BY @morallyinept

O' Christmas Tree by @morallyinept This is a precious, delicate story, one in which Joel loves so deeply and hurts so much that the thought of losing you--a real possibility since you've been very ill. But he'd do pretty much anything to see you smile, even if it means facing down a day int he cold to bringyou something to warm your heart.

Northern Lights Imagine camping with Joel. Sharing a sleeping bag. Under the aurora. Hand stuff in the wild has never been so sweet and hot.

Saviour Harsh and heartbreaking and real, this Joel is almost beyond help and I love the way Jett so beautifully details the many little deaths of a survivor. Angst to spare here, but true to character all the way.

Adoration Imagine you are married to no-outbreak, breast-man Joel. Happy. Loved. With a lump. I'm so awed by this fic, that Jett takes a very common nightmare and examines it, never sugar-coating, never denying the difficulties. It's a hard process and maybe I cried. But then there's Joel and his beautiful, steady consistency. I've never been more in love.

Home I can't imagine the love of my life just disappearing one day...but Jett can. Don't worry though, there's a happy ending waiting for you.

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BY @maggiemayhemnj

Happy Tuesday There's no need for Valentine's Day if there's a Happy Tuesday. I love this take on a couple who know how sappy they are for each other but make a joke of subverting the sap. A no-outbreak Joel who's still 20 years on, 20 years in love, and 20 years loving it. Which is exactly how long I'll be loving these two.

A mini Happy Tuesday interlude (Spring prompt: Bees) - (Happy Tuesday pair) Maggie's damn good with a drabble, but even better with a good ending line. I smile every time.

He Sees You - (Happy Tuesday pair) If this is what goes through Joel's head as he watches you assess yourself in the mirror, then that man is in L O V E love.

Breakfast Is Served - (Happy Tuesday pair) I would do anything to be able to cook well, if only to be able to make biscuits for Joel Miller so we can sit at the table with messy bed head and use breakfast as Sunday foreplay.

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[anlian-aishang]

He could feel you staring. And indeed, you were. God, you sighed to yourself, he was so fucking beautiful.

tags: levi x reader, angst, smut, hurt-comfort, gun mention, injury descriptions, self-sacrificial thoughts, caretaking, insecurity [felt by levi], body worship, canonverse, fem!reader.

word count: 5400

It was a miracle you found them, even more miraculous that Hange did not snipe you first. Over the barrel of the gun, their hazel eyes ran bloodshot. A murderous, fight-or-flight fear you had never seen on the commander’s face. If not for the moonlight that outlined your surrendering hands, surely, you would have joined the two corpses on the ground between you both. 

“Hange!!” Your frantic scream scared sleeping birds off their branches. Flaps of their wings matched the spasms in your nerves. “It’s me!”

Your ears picked up the graze of metal as their finger twitched along the trigger. Eyes focused in to meet theirs in promise. Your jaw fell further, not at the proximity between you and death, but at the single tear that slid down their cheek. Trauma spilling over Hange’s bright and bubbly facade. 

They lowered the rifle with a sigh, one you could see in the thick white cloud of their breath. With an exhausted exhale, beneath their hood, they offered.

“Do you want to see him?”

// // //

Hange walked slower than you would have liked. On the other hand, they probably thought you were going too fast. They had not had the time to blink, let alone sleep, in days. It was what you reminded yourself as you dampened your pace for their sake, the sedative to your aching legs, yearning to sprint to him. 

They made intentional small talk, asking how your intelligence missions were going - wondering if you had a good grasp on what the Yeagerists were up to. Of course, it was all pointless now. Obviously, Floch and his faction had succeeded. The end of the world had already started. 

The commander could tell, and you knew that they could. They would not ask you such blatantly meaningless questions, unless there was something to hide. 

“Hange,” your voice was deathly low, “just tell me.” Eye contact deliberately, mutually avoided. “How bad is it?”

Another heavy sigh. Twigs crunched beneath boots. A silence that felt like forever, that almost spoke for itself. Hange looked to the starry sky above, and for a moment, your heart sank. Is he…?!

Hange shot you a smirk, pained but genuine. “He’s a tough lil guy, isn’t he?”

He’s alive. 

“Anyone else would be sauteed to bits, and to be honest -” Hange parsed, “- I still can’t figure out how he made it.” 

Sauteed. Fire? Bits. An explosion? 

“I can only think -” they gave a loose tug of their hair tie, “- it’s because he’s an Ackerman.”

You had not put it all together, but the bloodstained patch of grass, the worn handle with lone fingers attached, the bodies of former comrades rotting outside - all the traces you tracked along your journey here painted an awfully vivid picture. Through those tiny details, you constructed the larger story. Levi had been targeted, and if not for Hange’s intervention, your partner would have been murdered by either Zeke’s or the Yeagerists’ hands.

Yet, in the commander, you could sense a tremendous guilt. Blinded by Levi’s current critical condition, or perhaps the recent killings of their subordinates, they saw themselves as no hero. Finally, you recognized why Hange was slugging along: a delay. Conscious or not. Procrastinating the revelation of the new Levi to his old lover. 

While they wallowed in their own failures, you only saw their successes. Each trudge of their steps against the earth felt heavy, you longed to lighten them, to have Hange see themselves as the savior they were.  

“No, Hange.” A gentle hand to their back. They startled, then soothed, at your touch. “It’s because of you.” 

With hesitation, they finally met your gaze. Their skin a staunch pale even in this pitch black night. A stark frown, regrets within. And Levi would not have liked that.

“He’s alive, not because of his last name, but because of you.” Your delicate touch morphed to a fierce grip, shaking them. “Hange, please,” clenched teeth, quivering lip, “you know that, right?”

Certainly, they were smart enough to know that.

Hange pushed a single finger to their glasses, “Y…Yeah.”

“Hange.” Your smile was both sincere and serious. You clutched their hand with both of yours and squeezed, “Thank you.”

They cleared their throat and swallowed, an awkward, guilty laugh. “Maybe you should save your thanks until you see him.”

// // //

Nauseous with both fright and excitement. Anxious as you anticipated touching him, counterbalanced with the fear of causing him further pain. Relief as you watched his chest rise and fall. Disheartened at how labored those breaths were. The emotions you felt at his sight, all but indescribable.

Considerate as you always were - even to your own detriment - it was what everyone loved about you, especially him. Knowing how defeated Hange felt, and in the wake of all the reassurance you had provided them on your walk, you knew all your comforting efforts would have been dismantled if you started to break down. Subduing yourself, you clenched fists at your sides and dug your nails into your palms. Trembling lip dipped beneath your teeth, biting down to still. Toes curled within your leather boots, stabling yourself as knees began to buckle. 

Witnessing your reunion, emotions were contagious to Hange. They artificially lifted their voice and offered instructions - a thin veil of distraction. “Well!” Hange gleamed, “He’s been out for a couple hours now, ever since Eren's… well, you know.”

That was one way to put it.

“I really have no idea when he’ll wake up, but he will.” Hange promised. “If he doesn’t get up on his own, you may have to help him. Bandages need changing in a few.”

Bandages? You had yet to notice until then. Upon entering the camp, you froze the moment you saw him. At that distance, he was just a bundle of blankets. You brought your sleeve to your eyes and wiped away the blur, and only then did you see the gauze that engulfed his face. 

Another pang of nausea. Mouth gaped to sob. You threw your forearm over it. A contrived cough to conceal your reaction, it failed. 

Behind you, Hange frowned. This time, it was their turn to cup your shoulder in their hand. In your peripheral vision, they pointed to a decorated tree stump. “When you do, make sure to clean his wounds first.” Atop the makeshift table, an even more crude construction was this mobile infirmary. Missing even the bare minimums of battlefield first-aid. More horrific than not: black thread, long needle. Thin vial of clear liquid was significantly less than full. Its alcoholic sting, you swore you could smell it from here. The thought of pouring that shit on him made your stomach flip again. 

“If you didn’t come, I was going to have to do it,” they chuckled this time, instead of severity, Hange used a lighthearted approach to comfort you, “but I’m sure he’ll be more receptive to you putting him through pain! It seems you’ve got the magic touch.”

If Levi was awake, oh - a swift ass-beating that would’ve been, but you were much more merciful, happy to share a harmony in crude humor. A moment of blissful ignorance in an ignorant, humorless world. Your smile widened to a grin and you tossed a playful shoo, “Get out of here, you.” 

You had not expected them to take you seriously. Hange smiled contentedly, turned on their heel, and strode even deeper into unexplored forest. A dramatic shift in mood as you swerved from joking to panicking, “Wait - where are - what are - where are you going?” 

Hange shrugged their shoulders, palms turned up to the sky. No slow in their pace, not even a glance back to you as they called, “Can’t save the world on no sleep!” 

As their figure grew tinier, your jaw that had fallen open gradually began to close. Their footsteps faded away, from faint to silent. Whether they eventually flopped from fatigue or continued their stride, you never found out for sure. You saw how exhausted they were, mentally and physically. At the same time, you could only imagine the pressure and responsibility they must have felt. Insomnia or collapse? Likely a coin flip. 

And just like that, the two of you were alone. 

// // //

Survivor’s guilt, you were familiar with. After this long in the Scouts, among those you knew, those who had experienced it outnumbered those who had not. You yourself had lost count of your diagnoses. 

But what the fuck was this? 

He had not died. He wouldn’t die, that’s what Hange said. You had not taken your eyes off him, not for one moment, and his breaths were as recognizable as your own. Undeniably alive, so why were you grieving? 

Perhaps it was regret. Without him there to talk you out of it, you wondered why you shouldn’t feel any and spiraled into its acupuncture. If only you had been at the right place at the right time - there were so many chances to stop it! You could have overheard any conversation about the wine and warned him: stay the hardass captain, the wine’s dangerous! More intelligence about Zeke could’ve shown you how reckless he was, and if you had communicated that to Levi, he would’ve known better than to bring thunder spears anywhere near him. Fuck, even if you had just been there! Maybe you could have thrown yourself between Levi and the explosion. Better me than him.

Your hand snapped to your head and seized a punishing pull of your hair. You knew better than to think such thoughts. Not even for your own sake, but for his: he wouldn’t want you to feel that way!

It was disrespectful to him, and let us respect the wishes of the dead. 

You fucking idiot, he’s not dead! 

Angst of this intensity, at any other time, you would scream, throw things, thrash about. But with your insomniac sound asleep beside you, you would not even allow yourself that release. All you could do was mewl silently, rip grass from the ground, and hug your knees to your pitted chest. 

That lasted a couple hours, and it may have even longer, but the chill hit you like an early winter. Goosebumps had pricked your skin, chattering teeth had become audible. And if you were cold - he must be freezing. 

Selfish. Selfish! You chastised yourself as you stood from your stone turned seat. Seemed like there was some spare wood from whatever Hange’s latest project was, you set it gently atop the fire, cringed when it collapsed with a series of clatters. You winced and checked on Levi. Still sound asleep. The last two logs, you set them on the side closest to him, simultaneously the least and most you could do to keep him warm. 

But was it?

He looked so tiny on the forest floor so vast. So lonely on that slate of tarp. The crickets began to chirp: there’s room for you, too. 

Still, you stood there debating. Weighing internally: better to lay beside him or leave him be? You did not want to wake him, for he appeared to be in a semi-comfortable peace. At the same time, each time he shivered, you felt your veins run cold with responsiblity. Not doing a very good job at the whole caretaking, significant other task. 

Nature made the choice for you. A merciless gust of wind hissed through the trees, breaking branches along the way. Acorns and twigs tumbled to the ground with the gravity of heavy hail. Icy was its howl, providing only seconds of warning before the sharp drop in temperature. Almost immediately, the captain whimpered himself awake and bunched the blanket to his body. Even faster, your sprint to his side. 

Like a survivor to a raft, a plant to spring rain, that was how you clutched him. “Levi…” you soothed, “Levi, it’s me.”

Trying to open his eyes, eye, induced a splitting headache. Thankfully, his hearing had recovered from the piercing explosion and was able to recognize: it was you. Throat scathed dry, Levi failed to summon a response. The apple of his neck twitched in his attempt at a swallow. Water. 

In the pocket of your cape, a full canteen, “Thirsty?”

A subtle nod was all he could muster. Mouth sealed off, streaks of red tainted the white gauze, you supposed it was time. Time to strip off his bandages, to see him again, to learn what had happened. 

Hange had debriefed you. There was no need to ask. His pupil was a lens through which you could see it all. The disbelief still raw, the disappointment in himself, the trauma glazed over. Curiosity screamed within you, longing to know everything from the tiniest details to the major events. Louder, though, was your urge to tend to him - and you knew that an interrogation was not the right remedy. 

There was something more subtle, and perhaps even more telling than words.

“Levi, let me see.”

Hesitation.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Normally, he would slip in a snide remark. His own take on a joke. Tonight, it wasn’t there. 

But you were right, it was time. He felt disgusting. Gauze glued to his face - blood and sweat - the neat freak squirmed. The cool air of a wilderness night and spring water down his throat sounded most refreshing. 

Refreshing - like the new perspective you would have of him. Levi had not seen himself yet, but based on the immense pain he felt, his face of all places, he knew it couldn’t be pretty. In that way, perhaps it would have been easier if it was Hange. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him, but you were the only exception. You alone could scare him, the fear of how you would react to your lover turned monster. 

Slowly, you reached to your hip and unsheathed your dagger. Trustworthy eye contact silently conveyed that you would cut him free. Levi answered with a slow blink, an attempt at a smile, an attempt that was quickly retracted by his newly irritated nerves. They screamed at him for it, he subdued them by digging his nails - all eight of them - into his palms. With a mere fraction of his face visible, your ever stoic Levi looked even more so. His mouth completely covered, you misread his response. Your first hint towards a long road of recovery ahead, your relationship forever altered.

You crawled behind him and aligned your arm with his spine, “Can you sit up for me?” Like a true combat nurse, you did not wait for an answer before getting to work. Slow but sturdy, you lifted him just enough so that you could get to his nape. Though your care was tender, his reaction was harsh: sharp hisses and exasperated groans. It saddened you, how these strained grunts no longer frightened you - you had heard so much worse from both him and others. 

At the tail of his undercut, you pinched Hange’s knot and lifted the ties from his scalp. An inch of space, you slipped the point of your blade between them. New breeze on his most sensitive spot, knife at the back of his neck, Levi shuddered in your arms. 

“Don’t worry,” you rubbed your palm against his shoulder, “I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you.” I won’t let you get hurt anymore. 

One swift swipe! You slit the gauze, almost like pulling a zipper. Hand on his thigh, you pivoted to his front. Left hand was both hasty and soft, pulling the wrapping from the top of his head all the way past his chin. 

The mask was off. 

With his face now unveiled, you withdrew a handful of inches. A habitual up and down to evaluate his state, just like he trained you. 

The irises that snared you, there was now only one of them. Fresh stitches. Unforgiving black pierced his ivory skin. Crimson blood between the threads. A red so raw, you knew it was never meant to be seen. 

Your throat tightened, the words retched out. “It’s not -” you swallowed, “- that bad…”

A bad liar, you always were. Adorable at other times, gut-wrenching now. You had totally frozen, and all he could do was blink helplessly in wait for you to accept him. In those few seconds, voices in his head made a thousand comparisons. Uglier than a titan. More jarring than a corpse. All the shit you’ve seen, and you’ve never reacted like this. As your eyes glassed over, his reflection became even clearer to himself, confirmed his fears: hideous, he was hideous. 

Even though you stared, you gawked, he could not blame you. In fact, blaming you was his furthest thought, far beyond his first: blaming himself.

“I’m sorry.” Levi whispered. “I’m sorry.”

No. I’m sorry. Again, you ran through all the ways you could have prevented this. If only you had spied better. If only you had been there! He had absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

“I really…” Levi sniffed, his voice raspy, “I screwed up.” A single, silent tear rolled down his cheek. Then another, and another. “...stupid, fucking stupid.”

Seeing him cry always made you do the same. This time, though, your typical techniques left you. This Levi was unrecognizable, not just his physicality, but his personality as well. Even after the bloodiest expeditions, you had never seen such defeat in him before. 

Levi barred his teeth, blood had pooled in his lower lip and leveled with the rim. As tears spilled into open wounds, stinging relentlessly, he did not even flinch, for he felt he deserved it. Not just because he had put himself in that lethal situation, but because he had killed his former self - the only version of him anyone had ever loved - your soulmate.

“Levi…” your fingers ran down his chest, extra delicate this time. Beneath your touch - its insinuation familiar - his heart fluttered, “you deserve to feel good.”

Despite your kindling fire, Levi remained cold at your contact and stayed startlingly still. He couldn’t even meet your eye contact, instead, choosing to stare straight down at your knees, as if needing to absorb and accept that you were actually knelt before him. 

His words wavered, but his voice was a constant low. Hardly audible. Deeply depressed. “You… still want me?” 

Instant, unfathomable heartbreak. Chills, widened eyes, and a ringing in your ears, disbelief at what you had just heard. Against his chest, your fingertips dwindled. Overwhelmed with pity, nevertheless, he still could not bear a glance towards you. 

“Levi,” you cupped his cheek, beckoning his gaze. Tilting your head, a smile both teasing and kindred, “don’t tell me you’ve got amnesia, too?”

He scowled - halfway between too soon and smitten admiration. Only you would dare test him at a time like this. 

“Cause it seems you’re forgetting all we’ve been through already.” 

In each other’s eyes, everything came flooding back. The death of his squad and the months of ensuing grief. The broken leg that held him back from the tower, Eren’s capture, and the rescue mission - the one that costed Erwin’s arm and many more their lives. The return to Shiganshina, even fewer - including the late commander - returned from. Tremendous weights both physical and emotional, you had always been there to shoulder them with him. This was just another one of those spells, and you were a veteran by this point. 

“Prim and proper without any problems… that’s not the you I’m used to.” Curled knuckles tucked stray locks neatly behind his ear. Nails scratched the cusp on the way, summoning shivers from the man beneath you. 

You took his hands in yours. Fingers intertwined, two were notably missing. No matter, you concentrated, determined to hide your adjustment to this new hold. 

“What I am used to, though, is the way you’ll recover - even stronger than before.” You tugged his hand to your lips and spoke gently, confidently against them, “You always have.”

Levi shook his head and grit through clenched teeth, “I don’t know if I’m coming back from this one, sweetheart.”

Indeed, the path forward was hard to see. His body had been torn to true shreds. The Ackerman bloodline was gifted, but they were human. Regeneration of his sight and his grasp were impossible. Humanity’s strongest soldier had been knocked down a permanent rung. 

Suddenly, you feared that the superlative title had done him more harm than good. Love was not something you measured, and his combat abilities meant nothing to you, least of all now. Who said he had to climb that particular ladder? Why must he be a Scout first and person second? Levi had embodied the hope of humanity - and you could not blame the population for placing their faith in him. However, you were not just another member of the population. And to you, Levi was far more than his labels. Foremost, he was alive and he was yours. 

He’s alive! He’s yours!

“For fuck’s sake, Levi…” tears fell, your smile rose, the words tumbled out, “all you have to do is breathe and that’s already enough.” Tenderly, you hooked your fingers over the seam of his blanket and tugged down. Shamelessly, your gaze swallowed him, relishing in his flushed chest and its heightened pulse, “and look at you, you’re already doing that.”

The end of the world, nearly the end of his life, but your tears were what broke him.

It started with a couple shakes of his head. Matted bangs fell over his features, but the shaking of his body and his crackling voice revealed all. Levi pulled his hand from your grasp and clutched his wrinkled forehead. Thumb ground his temple, a coping technique from childhood. A few deep breaths, after then, rattled and shaky: the telltale start to his breakdowns. 

Salted tears poured into his split lip. On instinct, your thumb seeped into his mouth, replacing the burn with your sweet taste. God, how he needed it. 

He needed it. He needed it. A painkiller, but not a pill. Warmth, but not a blanket. To be loved, adored, and made to feel useful, no matter what it was he could do. He could hardly talk, could not even sip water on his own. But there was one thing you knew he could do, one thing that would lift his spirits, if only the length of an endorphin release.

A smile both sweet and seductive, innocent and intimate. “You’re going to make me cum. I’m gonna make you feel good.” One hand on his stiffening lap. One hand on his cheek. “And I’ll show you that you can still do both.”

// // //

It was not the same, and you would not pretend that it was. Not worse, just different. Even better in some ways. 

Inexplicably adorable. Learning to work with his left hand, he would lift his right hand to your buttons only to halt halfway and switch to the other. Pure, flustered concentration as he learned to communicate with his non-dominant hand, the most intimate practice possible. In the glaze of moonlight, his red blush radiated. Internally, he cursed the buttons and belts of the Scout uniform. Externally, he released exasperated sighs and frustrated moans. Undressing you used to take seconds, but after many minutes, your shirt was only halfway undone. Despite his mental irritation, it seemed neither of you truly minded: your arousal stirred with anticipation, his pupils dilated as he savored every second - every inch of your skin. Sex taking longer, who would complain about that? 

Extra weak. Each of his movements was accompanied by shakes, emphasizing the efforts he put into making love to you. Twitches in his reawakening muscles kept his touch active, keeping things exciting. His vice grips of your skin had melted to grazes and dances. His squeezes no longer cut off your circulation, but coerced blood into every capillary. Entirely conscious, desperately yearning for more. You realized: it was not his strength that overcame you, but the craving that faint touch incited. Exerted grunts and curses under his breath were melody to the hum of mosquitoes and crackle of campfire. The most surprising setting to be spicing up your sex life. 

Hyper-sensitive. The strain embedded in every motion had unraveled him quickly. And then there was you. Licking his wounds, tracing your tongue along his scars, you had thrown him off the tightrope balance of pain and pleasure, leaving him to scream in freefall. Teeth grazed his jawline, drawing screeches that felt sinful to listen to, but that didn’t stop you. Lips on his navel drew back-breaking arches of his spine. Acute and uncontrollable rolls of his hips. Touch-starved. Love-deprived. The feeling of unworthiness made every bit of affection that much more treasured. Every touch, a lightning bolt. Each wake, a calm. Mini orgasms wherever, whenever you felt him. 

So conscious of his body, of his injuries, your diligent attention revealed perfections you never noticed before. Tendons in his arms cast contrasting shadows over his skin, they flexed with every sensation he felt and every one he provided. 

You had always assumed it was the color of his eyes that was so magnificent, and indeed it was a lovely shade, but it was his angular brows and straight lashes that highlighted them so beautifully. 

New appreciation for his muscles - not just eye candy, not just strength - but their persistence and importance in keeping him alive. Across his abdomen, seamless symmetry, pair after pair of ridges. Overstimulated sweat covered and complimented every curve, his own spotlight. 

Your goal was to kiss every inch of him, make love to every inch of him. Lips curled to meet his crevices, leaving saliva and praise all throughout your path. “You’re perfect, Levi.” Again, you were crying. Tears dripped to his skin, medicine. “Perfect.”

Having danced with death, Levi was also experiencing a new infatuation with you. After hours of seeing nothing but black, your body was a constellation to explore. He had lost some digits, but two were enough to run his fingers through your hair. Smooth skin invited his hands to savor you, further welcoming with your singing nerves and satisfied sighs. Likewise, after hearing nothing but silence, your whines and whispers moved mountains within him. When he felt so broken, so useless, you managed to lift him up. You tugged him free from his constraints and marveled at his livelihood. Long and admiring was your stare at his erection, forcing him to acknowledge the proof that one thing still worked. 

Labored was his attempt to sit up, to take hold of you, but you placed your palms to his pecs and pushed down, “Levi, it’s okay.” Leaning over, your breast met his chest as your lips fell beside his ear, drawing shudders as you cooed, “I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Mindfully, you reversed the roles: using him as a crutch, signaling his worth and aid to you. By your hold on his shoulders, you sturdied yourself as you lowered your sex down onto his lap. You were ready. Your bodies were ready. Anticipation clearly coated his cock from tip to base. Your folds yearned to be filled, drooling onto your thighs with hunger. 

The back of your hand grazed his forehead, brushing his bangs - slick with sweat - aside. Unbroken eye contact. Unbroken vows: to love each other in sickness and in health. You smiled, he nodded. You inhaled deeply. He exhaled shakily. Lowering yourself down, he pushed himself up as much as he could. Enveloping him. Within you. Together at last. 

In that moment, the separation nearly felt worth it. In the sea of your love, a current of sympathetic sadism. The strife of his injuries had strung him to his last wit, making the second he entered you that much more intense. Levi strained beneath you, immaculate curses fallen past his cracked lips. Bringing Levi to tears and to the brink of bliss, you were certain there was no bigger confidence boost, no greater incentive to fuck him with all you had.

But then, when you did, you realized the true motive: how he made you feel. 

Face scrunched with each rise and fall, fingernails threatened to pierce his skin. Clutching him, you stumbled through your words - breaks between your repetitions. “It - It feels… You feel…” 

Levi swore his heart could have exploded with tension over what you were going to say, that was until you uttered the words that made his heart stop, “so fucking good.”

On his face, relief. Within your walls, elation. “Y-Yeah?” Levi moaned, a combination of clarification and pleasure. “F’Feels… good?”

“Oh yes, baby…” So good, you couldn’t stop. So good, you lost yourself. His passion so lively, so blinding, you nearly forgot about his critical condition. Rolled back eyes snapped open, checking on him. You nearly halted your pace and panicked, “You doing okay?”

Canines bit his lip, but its sting was washed away in your presence, captivating. Squinted eyes, narrowed brows, Levi threw his hand over his mouth and muffled himself, nodding instead.

You smirked, too cute for his own good, that was how you usually reacted. Tonight, though, after all the loathing and depreciation you had both witnessed and felt, your vision was swayed. Lightly but deliberately, you pinched his wrist and lifted it above his head. “No need to hide, darling.” Tongue pried his lips open. “Let me see you. Let me hear you.”

Levi managed just a sliver, but that shred of his silver gaze was enough. “I - I’m f’fine!” He stressed. “I… promise.” 

You lowered one brow in dubious concern, but he insisted breathlessly. “Please…” he whimpered, “Please keep going!” 

Finally, you rolled your head back and sighed, he asked you for something. Something you could provide. Something you could fix for your lover so broken. With this goal in reach, you shared his desire for utility. Sex was survival, evolutionary, feral. The only thing that could make you fuck a patient senseless. The only thing that could make him forget his failures. The only thing that would heal both of you.

Oh, how he needed it. So hard against your soft insides. A length that reached for the stars. Warm passion mortared with yours, inciting smacks and screams that echoed for the voyeuristic pines. 

“P-Please…” Levi begged. Let me cum. Don’t leave me. Stay mine forever. He yearned to say everything, but with your tidaling sensation and his fogged mind, the most he could manage was just the one word. Louder and louder, “Please, (Y/N)...” until his own climax cut him off, “P-Plea - hah’Ahh!!”

Steep and rapid thrusts, you were made speechless - not only by the pleasure they brought within you, but by how impressive they were. So much about him had changed, and he had every reason to be lethargic, but the power he demonstrated had not faded. Your heart sang with admiration, humanity’s strongest for a reason. 

You hummed, unabashedly drinking up the symptoms of his release. Well familiar with his display, your hips knew just how to match the rhythm of his convulsions. Eventually, they slowed. Eventually, he was able to open his eye again. You saw his panic, the embarrassment, having finished first. When his seed hit your furthest depths and you seized around him, though, it was wordlessly communicated: he had no regrets, nothing to be sorry for, for his climax was what brought you to yours. 

Well, wordless in a sense. Your incoherent cries and broken syllables were of no lexicon, but a language he was fluent in. Eight fingers clutched your back, helping you through your last few rhythms, “Come on. Come on, I’ve got you.”

“Fuck!” You reveled. You were the luckiest person in the world. Even before the pillowtalk, in the midst of your orgasm, you could already see: no one else would mute their stinging nerves just to make you feel a bit better, no one else would prioritize your happiness over their own, no one else would share your tears in the same night they shared your bed. In this dying world, there was only one man alive who would love you as you did him. And he was yours.

All yours. 

masterlist

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: What happened to our guardians? I forgot it was Valentine’s Day. Happy Valentine’s Day!

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams

TW // Curse.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| • {Chapter II}

“Another one?” You deadpan at your ditsy roommate. Her hands holding a little Death Guard that looked around him all confused.

“I don’t know where I keep finding them!” She said, not really sounding… to thrilled. Her hazel eyes looking down at the poor smelly thing in disgust. Her nose scrunching up.

Well, at least she has some… humanity? To pick one up and take it to a safer place. Most people wouldn’t even do that for a sickly kitten.

“Anyways, i’ve got a club date to go to. Mind taking it?” She suddenly said, pushing the little Death Guard towards you, your hands scrambling to unfold from your chest to grab the little thing. His little form practically rolling onto your hands.

“Wha- since when? I thought you had work tonight?” You questioned her, helping the little Death Guard in your hands to stand up right with your fingers. A little sound coming from him.

“Uhhhh, an hour ago! I did, but my boss let me off again!” She shouted from the hallway. Sounding like she was putting on some heels.

“Are you gonna—” The front door slammed shut. Shaking the whole apartment. “Never mind, I’ll just do it myself.” You mumble, looking down to observe over the little Death Guard.

The little guy looked fairly normal for a Death Guard. He had the basic dirt green, and concrete color of his armor. Two sets of bull-like horns on his helmet, a pair facing downward and random curved spikes on his pauldrons. No extra mouth, horns, or spikes so far. No wounds either, that’s good.

“You seem rather healthy.” You mostly talked to yourself, getting another little sound from the stinky guy.

This… ‘mini’ situation had you puzzled. You never would have thought you would see the Astartes be so small. Usually, they were these huge, bulked masses of armor walking around wherever they pleased. Protecting a person rather than the other way around.

It even had the Apothecary astonished, when you took the other three there. Saying they have never seen such phenomenon, before they immediately started running all sorts of tests on the little guys that admittedly had you a little worried for them.

Those tests lasted for about three days? You had the right to worry about it. What if they accidentally killed them with those big ass needles in the back? What if they really weren’t an Apothecary?

Honestly, you weren’t expecting to be called back into the Apothecary to come and collect them, becoming assigned to them as their “caretaker.” Their reasons being: One, they don’t know who their warband is, or if they even have a warband. And two, you were the first person they ever saw, and care for the miniature Astartes.

Now, you were stuck with a World Eater, Thousands Son, Night Lord, and an added addition. A Death Guard that Sharon somehow found out of nowhere.

Multiple tiny squeaks called out to you from the kitchen countertop. The rest of the group standing there looking up at the little Death Guard in your hands that moved to look down on them. Curious of them as well.

“Well, little Death Guard. You’re going to be stuck with me for the time being.” You informed him. Bringing your hand forward down slowly to the rest of the group so he could meet the group.

You watched as the Death Guard gave you a warble before hopping off your hand. The rest of the tiny group surrounding the stinky guy, observing him, distinguishing him. Seeing if he was a threat or not.

They didn’t seem to be disapproving of the little Death Guard, so far, by they way the chirped at one another. There was no weapons drawn, and crouched positions. It was just like a regular greeting. A far better meeting than what the Night Lord, and the World Eater had. That you think, it stared off by the Night Lord teasing the World Eater, based on the Thousand sons gestures, and tiny chatter.

It didn’t help the little greeting battle when the World Eater still had his “Butchers Nails” the Apothecary mentioned of him having. They couldn’t remove them because he was far too small for such a procedure to happen. So from time to time, the poor World Eater goes into a fit of rage. Tearing up anything in his way. Sometimes going after the other Astartes.

That’s where you step in most of the time. Slowly snatching him up from whatever surface you find him on. His tiny, squirming form struggling in your hold, desperately stabbing, hitting your gloves that you were smart enough to put on.

When his raged energy had cooled down. You have felt bad for holding the little guy in such a confiscating way and apologized to him. Putting him up to your collarbone as a resemblance of a hug in hope for his forgiveness.

Surprisingly, that spot was one of the groups favorite spot to just sit there, and hang on to. Probably liking the warmth, and “height” advantage it gives them.

“Need something?” You ask the group, seeing the egyptian blue gauntlet of the Thousand sons pointing up at you. Small chittering coming out of the group; It took you a moment to understand what they wanted, but you eventually got it after a few more gestures.

“You? Want a bath?” You asked the Death Guard, raising a brow at him. Knowing that Death Gaurds don’t take kindly to baths much. You had to read a whole book about their quirks the Apothecary had sent you with.

The Death Guard paused then nodded. Hesitant on a such clean request.

“If that’s what you want.” You told him. Moving away from the counter to grab a small container. The group casually chatting away as you got the “bath” prepared.

Turning on the sink to warm water. You grab a small plastic container from your cabinets and filled it up with the warm water and some soap. Waiting a tiny bit, It mixed with one another; creating a bubbly container rather than just a basic watery container.

This was probably one of the first “baths” the Death Guard would have after a long while. Might as well make it count.

Placing the container of warm water and bubbles next to the group. They all turned to look at it, and surround it. The Death Guard touching the container before quickly pulling away like it burned him.

“You don’t have to take a bath. Instead, I’ll just throw him in it.” You mention to the Death Guard, pointing at the Night Lord who hissed in response, backing away slightly from the container of the soapy water.

The little Death Guard just peeped, and suddenly vaulted the side of the container, jumping into it. A little plop rising from the container where he submerged himself in. Bubbles moving together at the heavy movement.

Carefully watching the container, the Death Guard popped up from the water. Bubbles sticking to his armor as another peep came from him. Chirps coming from the rest of the group, talking to him. Maybe encouraging him? Teaching him?

Well, either way, it was all going well. No one needed to go to the Apothecary tonight, or in the morning. Until the Night Lord pushed the World Eater into the container. Another plop rising from the water as the Night Lord armor rose up, and down in a laughing matter.

The World Eater rose slowly from the water with a growl, even more bubbles sticking on his armor than what the Death guard has. He didn’t hesitate to start shouting threats to the Night Lord who stood above him on the container looking very prideful of himself.

Who can resist such an opportunity?

On the act of vengeance, you snuck your hand behind the dark blue space marine, and pushed the Night Lord into the container yourself. A squeak coming from him as he plopped face first, right into the soapy water. Small chitters interrupting from the group with the Thousand Sons just shaking his head on the side lines.

[iolitedoll]

Doll for Doll

Roaming the halls of a witch’s mansion, there existed two very special dolls, Elara and Amelia. They were two amidst many treasured dolls, however these two dolls shared an eternal love as subtle and natural as a quiet breeze.

Elara, a flawless porcelain doll with vibrant blue eyes and hair as soft as silk, she had once been the caretaker and playmate of the witch's daughter, her demeanour still soft and motherly towards the other dolls. Meanwhile, Amelia, a cuddly plush doll with deep hazel eyes and a reserved personality, had been lovingly handcrafted by the witch herself.

From the moment their eyes met, Elara and Amelia knew there was something special between them—a magic more beautiful than that of even their own witch’s. In quiet solitude, they met, hidden in the sanctuary of the attic, away from prying eyes, They shared secrets and dreams. As the days became weeks and the weeks became months, their love blossomed. They would lay together beneath the starry sky and made wordless promises of forever into the stillness of the night.

And so, as the seasons changed and the years drifted by, Elara and Amelia remained inseparable. Each night as darkness fell, they returned to their hidden sanctuary in the attic and danced beneath the rays of moonlight that shone through the window, their love spoken in a silent appreciation of one another's company. ~

Celeste settled herself upon a secluded wooden bench with a contented sigh. Her garden hummed with life as mischievous fae played hide-and-seek among the flowers. She took a sip of her tea, its warmth spread through her body, chasing away the chill of the cool night air. Her gaze drifted across her estate carefully to the round attic window, where a silhouette of eternal lovers could be seen dancing elegantly.

The witch smiled as she took another sip of her tea.

[joanofexys]

tell me about Merrick?

@themundanemudperson @codename-adler

thank you guys for asking about him

as always quick little overview of Merrick Carew:

usually goes by Merr

he/him

25 years old

gay aspec, trans man

english major

played for the foxes for 5 years and attended on a scholarship

5’7, brown hair, hazel eyes, has tattoos under his top surgery scars (and other tattoos lol)

striker, plays pro for a team i will come up with a name for eventually

had an older sister

quick warning now that Merr touches on a variety of heavier topics cause yk he is a fox so yeah just be prepared for that

specific tws i can think of: substance abuse, suicide, domestic abuse, child abuse, COCSA (SA)

this got really long so it’s under the cut 😭

Merr was recruited to the foxes after his coach recommended him to Wymack. His coach had noticed a variety of signs that pointed to abuse at home and also signs of addiction. When his coach asked why he hadn’t applied to any colleges Merr admitted that he couldn’t afford it and that no one wanted to put up with his attitude since he wasn’t much of a team player.

When he was offered a full ride to PSU knowing their reputation and it meaning that they’d be the only school who would take him

Now for the reasons why he’s a fox:

Merrick grew up in a big house where he lived with his parents, his aunt and uncle, his older sister, and his 4 older cousins

He and his sister were close and pretty much attached at the hip and they got along with their cousins as well. Both his parents and aunt and uncle were neglectful and his uncle was abusive to both his aunt and his mom while his dad tended to look the other way. Because of this they were largely unsupervised and it landed on his sister to do a lot of the caretaking.

His dad was an alcoholic and his mom seemed to like pain pills a little too much so substances went largely unchecked in the home and Merr was even offered things like alcohol at a very young age which was the start of his own addiction. Merr didn’t love alcohol but he did learn to mimic his mother and developed a preference for pretty much any pills he could get his hands on.

As they got older his uncle’s abuse also turned onto his cousins and in turn their abuse turned on him (and his sister when she tried to intervene). One of Merr’s cousins started to sexually abuse him when they were 14 and he was 11 and it didn’t end until a few years later when his uncle was fired and they had to move to a different state for his new job.

Until that had happened Merr’s family had realized how dependent they were on his uncle and aunts income and they lost their house and ended up living in a variety of hotels. In this period of time both Merr’s and his parents addictions got really bad and his sister was put under a lot of stress working and trying to take of him and their parents. Eventually she started skipping school, she got rejected from all of the colleges she applied to (all out of state), and she ended up committing suicide on her 18th birthday when Merr was 14

After her death both of Merr’s parents decided to get clean, shocked by their daughter’s death and realizing they were so wrapped up in their own addictions that they hadn’t noticed anything going on with her. They both started going to rehab, group therapy, and locked down to full time jobs and got to the point where they could afford an apartment when Merr was 14. Merrick, on the other hand, got worse and became more dependent on any substance he could get his hands (even harder now that his parents were keeping a clean house). Because he had never had to worry about a lack of access to drugs before he started going through withdrawals and with it he started heavily lashing out. At his school he found ways to get high still but it wasn’t the same as what he had been getting before and he remained irritable. He snapped at people a lot including his parents which led to a lot of fighting which turned into verbal abuse

He started looking for excuses to be out of the house and decided to try out for his high school’s exy team and actually made it. He played all through high school, it forced him to keep up his grades, and well he still didn’t get clean but he had another outlet and a coach who was doing their best to look out for him.

When he moves to PSU he has no idea what he wants to do with his life, he’s focused on getting his next fix, and he’s so incredibly lonely.

Moving to college forces him to finally process his grief for his sister and he has a breakdown where he keeps trying to call her old, deactivated, number and begging to go home. His roommates end up calling Wymack who takes him to his apartment and he refuses to move back into the dorms for about two months after that. But that means he can’t hide his addiction and when confronted with that he agrees to finally actually talk to Bee. He makes it through his first semester at Palmetto and ends up checking himself into rehab over winter break.

He gets clean, relapses a few times, the summer of his sophomore year he ends checking himself into rehab again for the duration of it and ends up staying clean.

I guess he’s one of Wymack’s successes and he’s plenty fucked up and still feels like a mess trying to be a person most days but he considers Wymack and Abby and Bee and even some of his teammates family and knows he’s got them to fall back on.

When he goes pro the media ends up falling in love with him and he ends up adoring press duty for the positive attention and being surprisingly good at it with a little media training.

He’s not a huge advocate about addiction or mental health necessarily because he keeps his issues incredibly private but he’ll repost little infographics and he’s the always the first to like Jude’s posts about his struggles and leave a supportive comment.

This is getting really long so I’m gonna try and wrap it up now. Other than his addiction and his sisters death he doesn’t end up confronting his other trauma until he’s into his 20’s. After graduating he keeps Bee as his therapist and that’s where he starts unpacking everything that happened to him as a kid. He still has a lot to work on and heal from, a lot of it he’d rather pack up in a box and never address, but when the feelings on it get too big he’s learned a lot of healthier outlets over letting his frustrations get the best of him

And yeah idk if he ever makes court but I am toying with the idea of him and Jude getting together

[punkeropercyjackson]

Team Parent Percy Jackson headcanons

Before i forget to do them again!!He is canonically but Rick dosen't expand on it and i also don't wanna hear any critisism because this is based off irl experiences and Percy used to his full potential because he deserves better

I wanna start off with the canon evidence:He's the eldest main hero in the franchise(T.oa is Not Real)and the most experienced one too,he feels the need to look out for younger people all the time and this is a springoff growing up a bully beater that was so set on protecting the innocent he never stopped even after getting kicked out of 6 schools by age 12,he's constantly compared to Poseidon as a foil to him whos's him but better,Hazel said he looked like a roman god which her dad is and Percy himself even compared his relathionship with Nico to acting like Sally does with him

He also said Sadie looks like his daughter and he specifically used 'mother' for the Nico part so darkskin afro-dominican and transfem bigender Percy is hashtag real <3

Nico and Hazel are his platonic soulmates by choice in every universe and they're known as 'The Dead Sea Siblings'.No Hoo retcons for Nico and Percy's dynamic and in fact between Botl and Tlo they spent the year bonding and reconnecting so when Hazel comes in to complete them they're a proper trio like they were always meant to be and Sally legally adopts Nico and Hazel after Tlo and after Boo respectively but they keep their birth surnames just for shortness' sake

He calls them 'Papito' and 'Mamita' and helps them take care of their hair and they have wash day together with Percy doing the work most often and Nico and Hazel lean on him for support both emotionally and literally when they're exhausted.They hang out almost 24/7 and the younger two are enrolled at a Special ED school as Percy convinced them to out of regret from rejecting Sally's offer to him when he was in elementary school because his internalized ableism was so bad already he had a meltdown and then a shutdown about it.He made sure to tell Nico and Hazel how smart they are too since he knows what it's like to have almost nobody say it to you

He guiltrips Poseidon into giving him money for Nico's chronic pain meds and mobility aids and helps Hazel out with girls,with her love life being as Mabel Pines-esque as she is(Nico is Dipper obviously)

He radicalized them as a multitype punk(afropunk,crustpunk,seapunk and solarpunk-The sea does not like to be restrained)so Nico's goth punk and Hazel's pastel goth punk.He taught them all they needed to know and takes them to safer punk activities like charity events and shows until they get old enough he's comfortable taking them on riots with him too.His battle jacket patches include a skull and a yellow diamond to represent them and a part of punk culture that appealed to him big time was the emphasis on children's rights in the form of older punks taking care of and protecting baby punks.Naturally he did Nico and Hazel's piercings for them too

He uses his powers to make beach days straight up tropical for them and just in general loves making kids happy by doing water tricks for them.He himself is pretty kiddy as a way of healing his inner child and having intergenerational friends where he gets to be the caretaker so he can give kids who're like he used to be a better childhood than he had which includes not making them be his therapist but the reverse is a huge help(Percy just like me fr fr).He loves legos,video games,cats,cartoons,princesses(also his type in women,specifically BLACK princess-y girls since i mean Andromeda?Duh)and pink is his second favorite color after blue

He looks like as much of a dad as he acts like.He's 6'4,thick as fuck(healthy fat and muscles mix),has long hair,super darkskinned and strongfeatured and radiates a vibe that puts off normies and makes children think he's trustworthy.The piercings(tongue ring,eyebrow,spider bite and forward helix on both ears)give him an edge that's oddly friendly

His cooking skills are on par with Sally's so he packs Nico and Hazel lunch and leaves them little sticky notes with positive words/gentle reminders on them.They share the bed often so they can all have good sleep schedules and it was Percy's idea with Hazel's convincing Nico after his initial hesitance out of worry his boney cold build would be uncomfortable to sleep with but they think he's as snuggly as a teddy bear and Percy having boobs thanks to being on estrogen in the past makes his chest comfortable to lay on(Nonsexually for them.If you make it sexual please repent and disintegrate,i literally grew up doing this with my relatives who're girls like me)

Has a 'Protect Trans Kids' banner in his room and a pin of it on his battle jacket.He's known as the cool punk Manhattan dude you go to if you're having gender troubles because he knows his shit and just what to say because of his extreme gender fuckery and obviously Nico and Hazel are his trans kids and inspired him to start handing out knowledge of transgenderism to younger generations in general and same goes for autism,even more so because he's literally the most autistic character ever

The little kids at camp consider him more their parent than their godly ones and some of them even call him 'Dad' or 'Mom'.It makes Percy tear up every time because it makes him feel like really succeeded in breaking the cycle of abuse and changing the system(as if he didn't straight up kill Zeus and cause a revolution he helped out on a lot)

Owns matching Aquapets with Nico and Hazel and it was their idea to buy them so they searched for ones together at thrift stores

He gets maddddddd if someone hurts younger people even if he dosen't even know them and jumps to their defense because it's a built in instinct at this point

Carries around a backpack with emergency items in case anything happens and has important facts about the kids memorized

Wholesome memes connoiseur.These are literally Percy core but he has an entire phone gallery of them saved for when his loved ones are sad:

I wanna make the obvious nsfw jokes but i also want to keep this post to be pg so imma just say Dilf Percy.Yeah that's it

[hauntedif]

Haunted is a darker sci-fi interactive fiction where you make certain choices that will control the narrative.

The story follows you, a scientist known as Dr Moreau, as you find out that your sister, who has disappeared a year ago, is alive.

Only problem, she is trapped on an island of the forgotten.

A place filled with experiments, some that were successful and some that were not.

Still, you make the choice to go and rescue her.

Though, there is another problem, the successful experiments have began to revolt, they wish for freedom.

Are you going to help them or stop them?

Do you feel guilty for your part in their creation or indifferent, because all you did was your job?

And what role does your sister have in all of this?

Your Boss: RO

Name: Anwir Scarrow

Gender: Male

Age: 33 years old at the start of the story

Description:

You will never see him angry or worried, he mostly keeps himself aloof.

He prefers to be seen as a flirt and a jokester. His employees love him, but his competitors fear him.

And you, you've known him the longest, but no matter how much you try, is there a possibility to know the real him?

But do be careful, never look into his eyes for too long. You won't like what you see in those hazel eyes of his.

Physical description:

You will never catch him with messy hair. His dark brown hair is always kept short and slicked back.

Though he keeps himself mostly busy and away from the sun, his rosy skin is clean and smooth, same can be said for his physique.

Description:

Leader of Revolution: RO

Name: Osian Pauper

Gender: Male

Age: 26 years old at the start of the story

Physical description:

Even though he is the leader of the said Revolution, Osian is someone very closed off to strangers and people he doesn't know well.

Often thought of as cold and off-putting, Osian is a very emotionally stunted person, who is never able to voice his true feelings.

Born to a mixed couple, Osian is a mix of a Chinese mother and a Welsh father. As a child, he was told by his grandparents that he took more after his mother, rather than his father.

His black hair is kept as a buzz cut, after [REDACTED].

His dark eyes are always filled with warmth when looking at people he cares about.

Description:

???: RO

Name: [READACTED BY XXX]

Gender: Female

Age: 30 years old at the start of the story

Physical description:

You cannot remember…

Why can't you remember?

You remember her brown eyes that would often turn gold under the sun.

Her voice, was it soft or sarcastic?

How long has it been since you saw her last?

Description:

Your Sister:

Name: Sofia Moreau

Gender: Female

Age: 26 years old at the start of the story

Physical description:

As her main caretaker, she saw you as the only person she could truly trust, whether that was true or not.

Often people would tell you how good, kind, and friendly your sister was.

Now, you wonder what has become of her.

Sofia prefers her hair a bit shorter, reaching just a bit past her shoulder, it was straight and pastel pink the last time you saw your sister.

You and her share very little physically. She is a carbon copy of your father, and you, taking mostly after your mother.

However, there is something you share, your eyes. From their color to their shape.

Your Assistant:

MINOR CHARACTERS:

Description:

Name: Susan Ashmore

Gender: Female

Age: 40 years old at the start of the story

You've never met someone who spoke either with sarcasm or plain rude words.

Physical description:

It is exactly a year of your and Susan's partnership when the story begins.

As your assistant, Susan is both a Godsend and the Devil's second in command.

With a honey blonde pixie cut and stormy grey eyes, Susan is a terror of a woman, both to interns and you.

Description:

New Agent: (possible Minor RO)

Name: Olivia Brown

Gender: Female

Age: 28 years old at the start of the story

From dumb jokes to attempts at flirting, Olivia is an unpredictable force.

As a new agent, Olivia is an active and impulsive woman.

Easily excitable, she never stops talking.

Physical description:

For a woman trained to kill without a thought, she looks far too innocent.

Like her bubbly personality, Olivia is colored with warm colors.

Brown doe eyes and curly brown hair, with tan skin color.

30% of the game has been mapped out.

Since it's still being worked on, some characters will be introduced or changed in the future.

Comments and asks are welcome

- Choose your gender (male or female), personality and sexuality

- Try to atone for your sins or be consumed by them

- Be haunted by your older brother

- Romance 1 of 3 Ro's

- Make choices and deal with consequences

Demo: TBA

Another quick note;

Since this is only the beginning of the story, please keep in mind that many things will change.

~ Nui

[sailtomarina]

The Artist's Daughter

She was here again.

Draco Lucius Malfoy, First and Only Prince to the kingdom, stayed hidden in the stacks next to a row of tomes dictating the genealogies of the royal families dating back hundreds of years. He had his private tutor to thank for the tiresome task of locating the volume listing the exact ancestor Draco had failed to name correctly in his latest exam. The other day, he’d been here searching for a text that would answer which crops their kingdom specialized in for exports. Ridiculous, really. As if he wouldn’t some day have advisors to do all this research for him.

Then, just like today, he’d seen a girl wandering through the shelves. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Draco was far too sneaky to be detected by some muggle, which she had to be given her unaware musings as she walked around with her nose buried in a book.

The first time, he’d remained hidden, even going so far as to cast a disillusionment spell on himself. As surprised as he was to see a stranger, he supposed that if they were to wander any of the handful of libraries in the castle, this was the most appropriate one. It was situated on the ground floor not too far from the entrance and ballroom. This is where most of the muggle texts were organized, along with an unfortunate number of historical texts currently pertinent to Draco’s education.

She’d struck him as pretty, albeit in a muggle sort of way. She’d worn a simple lady’s gown in a pale yellow that contrasted with the rich dark curls tumbling down her back. Freckles sprinkled generously across her pale skin, markings his cousins would have glamoured over from birth. If he guessed correctly, they weren’t too far apart in age, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. That was another indicator of her humble breeding—he didn’t recognize her, not from school or from the countless balls and feasts he’d attended growing up. She couldn’t be a noble.

Today, she wore a dress in a lovely sage green with tiny white flowers embroidered along the scoop neckline. Draco imagined her eyes to match the green, or to perhaps blink at him in a hazel hue. He needed to know.

“Who are you?” His voice came out much harsher than intended. 

He’d stepped out in front of her just as she was about to pass, causing her to come to an abrupt stop before crashing into him. Startled eyes, irises dark brown and glinting with a hint of gold, gazed up at him. He’d been wrong about the colors.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there. I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” She stepped back to an appropriate distance from him, hugging a few books to her chest like armor.

“I’m Draco,” he said simply.

“The prince?” She didn’t sound too surprised, and eyed his unmistakable platinum hair.

“The very same. Why are you here in the library?” He’d finally tempered his tone to a more congenial one. 

“I was told I could read whatever I liked in here. My father is painting your Grand Ballroom.”

Ah. She was the daughter of the painter.

His mother made it a point to elect a new project as soon as the previous one was complete. Previous years had resulted in a reworked Imperial Garden, which boasted rose gardens with every imaginable variety, both magical and non-magical. A formidable greenhouse was added shortly after, and the caretaker they’d employed soon obtained and cultivated the rarest of specimens for use in medicine and potions. 

This year, Queen Narcissa turned her attention to the Grand Ballroom. She and his father adored hosting balls at every opportunity. What better way to display their love for art and beauty than to paint the entire ceiling and all its walls with depictions of magical beasts and figures from history. Circe. Merlin. Rasputin. Titania and Oberon.

Draco had assumed they’d hire a wizard, but he should have known that when it came to art, the king and queen saw no difference between magic or not. They simply wanted the best, and if that happened to be stationary art, then so be it.

“Find anything interesting?” He feigned interest, intent on keeping her talking. She was far more entertaining than pouring over volumes of ancestors alone.

She perked up at his question, and Draco could have sworn sections of her hair floated for just a brief moment.

Certainly not.

“I did! Did you know your castle is situated on top of the most powerful spot in the kingdom? All of the most prominent ley lines converge here underneath our feet!” She stomped one foot in emphasis. He wouldn’t be surprised if she went through several slippers a season if she always beat on them in that manner.

Wait.

Did she say “ley lines”?

“Are you a witch?” he blurted out, once again wincing at the gracelessness of his question. His mother would be mortified if she could hear him.

Hermione looked at him as if he was stupid. “Yes. Why else would your family let me wander around here by myself?”

“I don’t know, maybe because this is the one library of many where muggles are allowed? They do come here occasionally, muggle nobles, to garner favor with us,” he sputtered. He still couldn’t quite believe it. She was a witch. She was an unknown witch of his age. “Why don’t I know you? I don’t think I���ve ever seen you before.”

“My parents are muggles. I might have a squib ancestor somewhere, but as far as we know, I’m the only magic user in the Granger family. They sent me abroad for schooling since Hogwarts doesn’t currently accept muggle-borns.” She raised her eyebrows as if challenging him, but Draco couldn’t find it within himself to care about her background.

Hermione didn’t fawn on him like the other girls who had paraded themselves around him at school. She didn’t bat her eyelashes or titter behind a gloved hand. She didn’t wear gloves at all, her slender fingers wrapping around ancient texts as if relishing the touch of the worn covers. She probably thumbed the pages like his instructors told him never to do.

He would have thought that would annoy him, but he instead found himself intrigued in this muggle-born witch who liked reading, wore slippers instead of heels, and forewent glamours.

“Do you want to see the other libraries?”

His words were like a spell, as effective at getting her to brighten as a cheering draught.

“Oh, can I? The king and queen won’t mind?” She nearly vibrated in her excitement.

Her hair was definitely twice the size it was before.

“Not if you’re with me,” Draco said with a smirk, though that was partially a lie. If they’d wanted her in the other libraries, they would have explicitly told her. 

“Well, in that case, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” She made to dash away, but he caught her shoulder before she could do so.

“Allow me,” he said with a gesture towards the books still clutched to her chest.

“Oh, I can carry these.”

“Please, I insist.” It wouldn’t do if either of his parents not only caught him skiving off lessons with the girl, but allowing her to carry around books like some commoner. When she finally let go of her findings, he cast a featherweight charm and looked at her knowingly. She flushed an adorable shade of pink.

“They really weren’t very heavy, but thank you anyways.”

They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring, only making it to two additional libraries. Hermione had only added to the pile of books floating behind Draco. He had to refresh the charm multiple times due to the sheer weight.

“You do realize you can’t remove these from the castle, don’t you?” He hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her, that she’d continue to visit along with her father for as long as there was work. “How long will it take your father to finish the ballroom?”

“To answer your first question, yes, I do understand that I’ll need to reserve these books to read later. I was hoping you could help with that.” He nodded his agreement, even as he inwardly danced with joy at the thought that he now had a reason to continue seeing the girl. “And to answer your second, it could take my father years.”

“Years?” Draco was aghast at the approximation.

“Years,” she repeated. “If you go take a look, you’ll see why. He’s not even working alone—he has an entire team helping with the moldings and scenery.”

Trust his mother to pick a project of such staggering proportions that it required multiple artists. On the bright side, that meant he’d have a long time to get to know Hermione, even if it was only during the holidays.

“It’s a shame you can’t attend Hogwarts.” It wasn’t until she tutted in agreement that he realized he’d said the words aloud. If she’d been like any other girl, she would have pounced on any hint of attachment on his part. She, however, did not.

“Well, if the king’s word is true, then I may soon. In exchange for my father’s work, yours agreed to update Hogwarts’ policies. I love Beauxbatons, but I can’t disagree that staying closer to home would make everything a lot easier on my family.”

“If you do,” Draco said the words slowly, hardly believing they were coming out of his mouth but needing her to know before it was too late, “then you should ask to be sorted into Slytherin.”

His heart sank at the way her nose wrinkled and lips turned downward in a grimace. “Isn’t that house renowned for pureblood ideology? I was leaning more towards Ravenclaw, myself.”

He nodded somewhat agreeably. “Books and cleverness…you could certainly do worse. They’re not a bad lot, if you ignore their tendency to disappear into their studies. Though…” he trailed off, reluctant to give away his feelings again without assistance.

“Though it might mean we don’t see each other? I wouldn’t let that happen outside of exams,” she said offhandedly. “I’ll keep in mind what you said. Snakes can be quite clever, in a sneaky kind of way.” The pointed look she sent Draco reminded him of how he’d approached her in the first place.

“Quite.”

A gentle melody played in the air, noting the top of the hour and finishing with eight long chimes.

“And that’s my cue. Hold on to those for me, would you?” Hermione leaned up onto her toes, laid the palms of her hands atop his shoulders, and pressed a kiss onto one cheek, then the other.

Draco could do nothing but stand still in shock at her forwardness. Then he remembered where she went to school and the strange habits the people of that land practiced. He cleared his throat to cover his awkward silence, but the crooked smirk she wore proved the attempt useless.

“When will I see you next?” He realized how needy that sounded as it came out, and hastily continued,“Just so I know when to have them ready?”

She flitted to the doors and didn’t respond until she was nearly through them, “I’m sure you’ll find me!”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind her stack of books, the echoes of her soft lips on his face, and the sweet scent of apple blossoms in the air. Draco wondered if she had perhaps cast some sort of love spell on him. How else could he explain his complete lack of reservation around her, or why her humble origins didn’t matter to him like he thought they should?

Queen Narcissa found him still in contemplation shortly after, and was impressed at the amount of reading material gathered around him.

“My dragon, there you are! Wilfred said he’d sent you to recover texts on our family history ages ago.”

“Mother, did you know the painter has a daughter?”

Narcissa blinked as she processed the odd question. “Master Granger? Of course. Hermione is a lovely, bright little thing. I told her she could read whatever she liked in our First Library. Why do you ask?”

Her son continued to stare at the wall, and she had half a mind to cast a homenum revelio.

“Draco?”

He came to with a shake and gave her one of his rare, full smiles. “No reason. I think we’ll be wonderful friends. You should make sure Hogwarts changes their acceptance rules before school starts again.”

Bewildered and bemused, she stroked a hand over his hair, so like his father’s. “I take it the two of you met?”

“We did. These are all hers.” He gestured towards the books once more.

“And here I thought you’d finally taken an interest in your studies.”

He snorted and she nearly pinched him on the arm for his cheek. She made do instead with a tickle to his side. He ducked away from her with a laugh, holding up his hands in surrender. “Mother, please! That isn’t fair! You know all my weak spots.”

She desisted in her attack with another indulgent smile. “And don’t you forget it. Just be careful with Hermione, dear.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head in confusion and she nearly sighed at his naivety. The young could be so oblivious, but she envied them their freedom.

She thought back on her own upbringing. The Blacks were more ancient and arrogant than even the royal family; her marriage to Lucius had been agreed upon at birth and as expected as the fact that clouds brought rain and Blacks were as pure as pure could be. She knew she was his from the beginning, and no amount of pining after others or imagining life in another place with a different name would change her fate.

Narcissa looked at her son, a near perfect replica of her husband aside from the softer grey eyes she’d bestowed upon him and his smile. He’d been so much like her at the start, but over the years he’d become more and more like his father. Now, today, he was like his younger self again.

She didn’t care what Lucius intended for his heir. She just wanted him to find happiness.

“True friends are difficult to come by, particularly for people of our station. I have a feeling that, if you nurture your relationship with Hermione, she’ll be someone worth keeping at your side.”

“What would father say?” he asked, caution and desire battling for domination on his face.

“He prizes power above all else.” This much was true. Lucius just happened to have a bit of a blind spot outside of magical families. “Apply yourself to your studies, help one another, and I’ll take care of Hogwarts and your father.”

Listening to his mother, Draco started to relax and let a bit of his earlier hope trickle back in. He wasn’t sure how Hermione had secured her approval, but she had. Greater deeds had been turned into ballads.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit terrifying sometimes?”

Narcissa smirked, immediately reminding Draco of wild curls and a smattering of freckles. The two women looked wildly different, yet they gave off a similar air of confident capability.

“I have been told. Once or twice.”

He made a note to tread carefully around Hermione in the future. If she turned out anything like his mother, he never wanted to be on the opposite end of her ire.

Oh, the feats they would accomplish together.

WC 2606

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 4 - Alternate Universe, September 22 - Royal AU

Cross-posted to AO3

I have half a mind to write a full story in this setting, since it spiraled into something I want to know more about. I didn’t think I used to have a thing for royal AUs, but maybe I do???

[hazelkjt]

Janis Kha is a shepherd for the tribe, in charge of a sizeable portion of their flock of karakul. When not out on hunts, she is assisted by her partner Baato and their daughter Hazel in tending to the flock.

One such karakul was the runt of the flock, at first slated to be cast out. Hazel, however, took pity on the small animal and asked to become the karakul's caretaker. As the tribe had no reason to go against the demand she was allowed to keep the baby lamb.

This was about a year before Hazel was given the opportunity to journey to Eorzea. So when the time came for her to depart across the ocean the small karakul journeyed with her. During that year of caretaking the animal did not grow in size at all, remaining quite small and soft, like a ball of fluff. As such, Hazel named him Floof.

[harlowcomehome]

Sprained ankles and pancakes.

A/N: Hazel is eleven and Jade is 6. Thank you @hoodharlow for the idea. ♥️

You, Jack and the girls were in the backyard playing soccer. You weren’t the best at it but you had fun spending time with your family so you didn’t mind it.

You and Jade were on one “team” and Jack and Hazel were on another. You knew how competitive the two of them were and you and Jade were mostly just playing for fun.

You were goalie, and kept your eyes on Jack and the girls. Jack was running down the backyard and you were cheering Jade on, but Jack was too quick for her. When he went to kick the ball, he turned to look at Hazel briefly. He had kicked the ball without really looking, causing it to hit you full speed in the ankle.

“Ow! Fuck!” You shouted as you fell to the ground.

“Mommy?” Jade was worried and ran to you first, Jack and Hazel following behind her.

“That was not a nice word” Jade mumbled to herself.

You were holding your ankle, rocking back and forth. “My ankle Jack-“ you sniffled, trying to keep your composure as best as you could in front of the kids.

“I’ll go call grandma” Hazel said before she ran inside. Jade sat down beside you patting your head for comfort, not knowing what else to do.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention” Jack kneeled beside you, “can you move?”

“I don’t know, it hurts so bad” you were trying to take deep breaths.

“I’m going to pick you up, hang on to me” Jack scooped you up, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, as he carried you inside bridal style.

“Grandma is on her way” Hazel announced as you three came inside.

“Mommy? You okay? What happened?” Jade asked worriedly.

“I’m okay Jadey, I hurt my ankle” you moved your hand to show them and Jack sighed.

“It’s starting to swell. You know I never meant for that to happen right?” He was worried about you, clearly.

“I know, I know that” you smiled weakly, and that’s when Maggie showed up at the house.

Your trip to urgent care was not very long, and it was exactly what the both of you thought. You had sprained your ankle, which meant you needed to elevate it and to stay off of it for a while.

A while really meant anywhere from 2-6 weeks.

Jack went into caretaker mode almost instantly. He felt guilt although you expressed to him several times that you knew it was an accident but that wasn’t going to change how he felt.

When you got home you showered and changed into pajamas with Jacks help. You laid on the couch and he put a pillow under your foot and explained to the girls that they needed to be weary of your ankle. Jade climbed on the couch and laid next to you, while Hazel helped in the kitchen.

Maggie had made dinner and stayed for a while to help with the girls before leaving for the night.

The next morning was terrible, even the blankets touching you felt absolutely awful. You whimpered in pain and Jack was usually a heavy sleeper but in this instance he was on alert.

“Baby, what do you need?” Jack leaned toward you. “Ibuprofen?”

You groaned and nodded, as he was quick to get up and bring you medicine.

“I have to make breakfast” you started to scoot yourself out of bed.

“No, I got it.” Jack quickly went to your side of the bed and helped you get back in it. “Just stay in bed baby, I’ll bring it to you.”

Jade woke up and crawled into bed with you, “mommy, does it still hurt?”

“Yeah Jadeybug, it’s going to hurt for a while unfortunately” you sighed.

“Daddy is making breakfast?” She questioned and you giggled at her concern.

“I hope Hazel helps” Jade rolled her eyes and you laughed as she cuddled into you.

It had been a while and you and Jade had continuously drifted in and out of sleep.

Eventually Hazel came into the room silently rolling her eyes at Jade so obviously being a mommy’s girl, although she really wasn’t one to talk. “Mom, mom, mommy” she shook your arm as you woke up.

“Breakfast is ready” Jack smiled as he brought it into the room as you woke up.

“Fruity pebble pancakes made by Hazel Renee and eggs made by me” he said proudly and you laughed at how proud he was considering he made the easier item.

“Can we eat in here too?” Jade asked knowing they weren’t usually allowed to eat in their bedrooms.

“Yes, breakfast and movies in mommy and daddy’s room this morning!” Jack exclaimed, handing Jade her plate.

“Jade is definitely getting syrup on the bed” Hazel groaned as she walked back to the kitchen to get her plate of food.

“She is definitely my child” Jack laughed at Hazels concern about the future mess to be made.

“Mommy, when your ankle is healed up will you still play soccer with us?” Jade asked sadly, averting your gaze.

Hazel and Jack had re-entered the room as she asked that.

“Of course, mommy has to break the tie” you winked and Jack chuckled to himself knowing the game was tied when your injury happened.

He pulled up a chair beside you, so that he could eat breakfast by your side, knowing the girls would be getting in bed beside you as well.

“Doesn’t matter, daddy and I are still going to win” Hazel said smugly as she crawled onto the bed beside her little sister.

“Nu uh! Mommy and I are going to kick your asses” Jade giggled before taking a bite of her eggs.

Both you and Jack stifled a laugh, “Jade Harper! That’s not a nice word to use” Jack scolded.

“Sorry daddy” Jade giggled and so did Hazel.

“Competitive like you” you whispered to Jack with a smile, he shrugged in response knowing it was true.