#easy's gettin' harder every day

[pandapetals]

Just Friends

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

You and Logan's are dating and he seems to get jealous of how close you are with Hank.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

Logan had been hunched over a pile of student essays in his office, scowling as he graded, when he heard it—your laughter drifting up from downstairs, clear and bright. It was the kind of laughter that spilled out uncontrollably and made you gasp for breath. It was a sound he didn’t hear often enough, and damn it if it didn’t get under his skin a little—especially because he had a good idea who was making you laugh like that.

His jaw tightened as he tossed the essay aside, pushing back from the desk. His boots thudded heavily against the hardwood floor as he stalked down the hallway, each step falling harder than the last. He told himself he was just stretching his legs, maybe taking a break from the endless red pen corrections. But the knot forming in his gut said otherwise.

When he reached the kitchen, he stopped short, standing in the threshold. There you were, leaning against the counter, looking effortlessly beautiful as always, your head tilted back as laughter spilled from your lips. Hank stood beside you, close enough that your hand brushed lightly against his forearm, and whatever joke he had just finished telling had you in near tears. The sight of you with your hand on Hank’s arm hit Logan like a punch to the ribs, that familiar twist of irritation flaring up despite himself.

Logan’s voice came out rougher than he intended. "What’s goin’ on in here?" he asked, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t all that amused.

You turned at the sound of his voice, your laughter tapering off into a smile. "Oh, hey, Logan," you said, a hint of breathlessness still in your voice. "Hank was just telling me about that time he tried to explain astrophysics to the kindergartners. It didn’t exactly go as planned." You chuckled again, glancing back at Hank with an easy familiarity that made Logan’s jaw clench tighter.

Hank, completely oblivious to Logan's tension, grinned and gave a casual shrug. "They were bright kids," he said, still laughing. "But it turns out that theoretical cosmology is a bit of a leap from finger painting."

"Yeah, hilarious," Logan muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as they shifted from Hank to you. He took a few steps into the room as if staking a claim on the space—or maybe just reminding Hank that he wasn’t the only one around. "Don’t you have somethin' better to do than stand around tellin' jokes, Hank?" There was an edge to his voice, an underlying gruffness that wasn’t hard to miss.

Hank raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by Logan’s sudden intrusion. "Just taking a break," he replied, his tone light. "You should try it sometime, Logan. I’m sure even you could use a laugh every now and then."

Logan grunted, his gaze shifting to you, catching the way your eyes sparkled with amusement. You weren’t entirely oblivious to what was happening; in fact, you seemed to be enjoying it. "You always seem to show up when Hank and I are talking," you remarked, your smile widening as you tilted your head at him. "Starting to think you’ve got a radar for when I’m around other people."

Logan’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker in his eyes—something almost like a challenge. "Just makin' sure nobody’s slackin’ off," he said, his tone rough but carrying that hint of protectiveness that you’d come to recognize. "Don’t want you gettin' distracted, sweetheart."

You shot him a playful look, folding your arms as you leaned back against the counter. "Distracted, huh? I think I can manage a conversation with Hank without losing focus," you teased. "Unless you’re worried he’s going to steal me away with all his science talk."

Logan’s jaw tightened just a fraction, and he let out a low, gruff chuckle. "Not worried," he replied, though the way his gaze flicked to Hank suggested otherwise. "Just don’t see the appeal in listenin' to a bunch of fancy talk about stars and black holes. Figure there’s better ways to spend your time."

You smirked, noting the way his hands flexed slightly at his sides as if he were barely restraining himself from taking a step closer. "You know, Logan," you said, your voice dropping just enough for it to sound almost intimate, "if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous."

He scoffed, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Ain’t about jealousy," he shot back, though his tone betrayed him, laced with a subtle edge that made your stomach flutter. "Just don’t like people gettin' the wrong idea."

"Oh? And what idea would that be?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. There was a heat in the room now, a tension that hadn’t been there before, and you could feel it in the way Logan’s gaze settled on you, sharp and unyielding.

Logan took a step closer, finally closing some of the distance between you. "The idea that I’d let anyone come between us," he said, his voice low and rough.

You felt your breath hitch, and for a moment, you were keenly aware of how close he was standing. "Is that what you’re doing?" you whispered, a playful lilt in your voice. "Making sure Hank knows his place?"

Logan didn’t answer right away, his gaze flicking over your face, lingering on your lips for just a beat too long. "Somethin’ like that," he muttered, his voice barely more than a growl. "Just don’t want anyone thinkin' they’ve got a chance when they don’t."

Hank, who had been watching the exchange with quiet amusement, decided to make a tactful exit. "Well," he said, giving you a quick, knowing smile, "I’ll leave you two to… whatever this is." He nodded to Logan. "Good to see you, Logan." And with that, he was gone, leaving the room suddenly quieter, the air thick with the unspoken.

As soon as Hank was out of earshot, you couldn’t resist turning back to Logan, a teasing grin tugging at your lips. "You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to scare him off," you said, stepping closer to him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body.

Logan’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of mischief. "Maybe I was," he admitted. "Did it work?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you reached out to lightly touch his arm. "You’re ridiculous," you whispered, though the fondness in your tone was unmistakable. "But I guess I can’t complain."

Logan’s hand came up to gently cup your jaw, his thumb brushing along your cheek as his gaze softened, just a fraction. "Good," he murmured, leaning in close enough for his breath to mingle with yours. "‘Cause I’m not gonna stop.

[thecapricunt1616]

Hello all I’m still working on my requests daddy Carmy has just been taking over my fucking brain.

I’ve been seeing the trend on tik tok of wives asking their husbands questions about their babies it just got me thinking how Carmy would KILL this challenge and he would be super proud of himself because he’s so competitive I think it would go something like (Drabble below)

You walk out onto the patio of your gorge house where he’s in sexy daddy mode cooking breakfast on the little black stone grill while he drinks his coffee and you’re like -

“Babe I saw this video about this dad he didn’t know anything about his baby but I know you know cause you’re an awesome dad can we show the people what a good dad you are?”

and ofc he gets all blushy and is like “I’m not a good dad because I know stuff about my kid but I love talkin’ bout’ em so you can ask me questions sure.”

So you start off easy “What kind of formula do we use for cub when I’m taking a break?”

He answers straight away “Yellow one Enfamil neuropro I’m like 99% sure it’s in a yellow container”

“Correct and how many naps does he take a day?” You ask and He chuckles

“Uhm well when he’s bein’ good he’ll take 2 er 3 even if he’s doin’ a lot ‘er he’s sick, but we can usually only get one outta him.” He said while shaping the pancake batter into little Mickey Mouse shapes

“He gets being a bad sleeper from his dad, and what time does he usually nap?”

“Ye’ but he gets the attitude from you. We try gettin’ ‘em down at 12:30ish 1 but he usually fights us and he doesn’t go down until 2” he teased

“What brand and size diaper do we use?” You panned the camera down as he sprinkled blueberries on top of the batter

“Huggies - you like the snug and dry ones - he likes the snug and dry ones cause the box has Mickey on it- and he’s size 4 I think - ye’ 4 now cause the 3’s were lookin uncomfortable - are you filming my hands?”

You laughed, blushing a bit having been caught “sorry you have nice hands, how does he like to be held?” You moved the camera back up

“Uhhh depends? Is he tired is he upset is heee-“ he questioned

“Mm puttin him down f’bed” you said

“Ohh lil’ man likes the football hold” he demonstrates “likes to be all curled up here in my arm like a football and I’ll give ‘em his bottle. But w’you he wants t’fall asleep eating” he said and you smiled big at how attentive he was

“You got an A, I knew you would” you said and he grinned proudly

“That was it? Cmon! Those are easy gimme harder questions then that!” He chuckled

“Hmmm… alright-“ you think for a moment “oh! What’s his favorite movie”

“Monsters inc and monsters university” he said without missing a beat “he goes nuts he loves it he makes us do scary feet with ‘em” he laughs a bit at the thought

“Also correct, what abouttt…his favorite-“ he cuts you off

“Animal? A Bear” he smirks and you both laugh

“Okay what makes him laugh every time?” You asked

“Ohhh hmmmm…” he thinks with a big grin “well there’s a lot- oh well I’m gonna get you that always makes him crack up, also coughin’ if anyone coughs kid is done for” you giggle

“Which is why he is always wakin’ up laughin’ when you cough up a lung in the middle of the night after coming in after a cigarette” you teased and he laughed a bit

“Id rather him wake up laughin’ then cryin it’s easier to go in there and read to em till he falls asleep” he said

“Oh! That’s a good one- what’s his favorite book?” You ask

“Brown bear brown bear what do you see” he smiled “or Goldie locks, but he likes it better when you read that one to him” he said and you heard him squealing over in his playpen happily

“See he agrees doncha little bear?” He coo’d adorably over at him as he bounced up and down

“Dada dada dada dada” he babbled happily and lifted his arms, golden curls like Carmys of course falling over his forehead.

Of course carmen couldn’t deny his little guy so he walked over, picking him up and holding him on his hip and came over to resume cooking

“ you win this challenge bear you crushed it” you told him and your son is just so smitten and happy, cuddling up to Carmy and sucking on his pacifier contently

You post the video ofc it goes viral bc he’s Carmen but also becomes dilf of the year all the ladies in the comments simping over his sexy muscley arms and his tattoos and his ability to hold a baby and flip pancakes at the same time, everyone’s heart melting at the end of the video when your son pointed at the pancakes and went “mi-tee” and Carmy smiling telling him “you’re right cub! Such a smart little man. That’s Mickey Mouse. We gonna watch Mickey house while we have breakfast mm? With mommy?”

[whereslynx]

Sad eyes is brother to reader and she is messing secretly with oscar but they are not really subtle (like being seen in the car or somewhere gettin it on eg) and being caught (but like a funny one) 😌

a/n: totally! i’d like to think that they think they’re somewhat slick, meanwhile, the whole of freeridge already has them figured out HAHAHAHAH

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It was one of those cool, lazy afternoons in Freeridge. The sun was just beginning to dip, casting a golden glow over the streets. You sat on the worn-out couch, flipping channels, your mind wandering, waiting for something to pass the time. Ever since your brother, Sad Eyes, got involved with the Santos, there was always something going on, but for once, it was quiet. Too quiet.

But quiet was a good cover.

You and Oscar—Spooky to everyone else—had been sneaking around for weeks now. The first time? It was as simple as a ride home after you bumped into him at a corner store. One ride turned into talking, which turned into meeting up, which turned into you two making out in his car under a streetlight like you were teenagers. And in a town like Freeridge, keeping a secret wasn’t exactly easy. Especially when your brother was notorious for knowing everything that went down in the streets.

But you two weren’t exactly subtle. Not that you didn’t try.

Oscar had that “bad guy” reputation—leader of the Santos, always serious, always in control. He walked through Freeridge like he owned it, his presence commanding respect, even fear. People knew better than to cross him. His face rarely betrayed any emotion beyond a cold, calculated calm, his eyes scanning every situation like he was five steps ahead. To everyone else, Spooky was all business, no games, the man who handled problems before they even became problems.

But when it was just you and him? The hardened leader of the Santos disappeared. He was soft in a way that made your chest feel warm, like the walls he kept up around everyone else didn’t exist between you two. He’d smile more, his guard dropping as he laughed under his breath at something ridiculous you said, those intense eyes of his lightening up for once. There were moments when he’d pull you into his lap, that familiar smirk playing on his lips, like he didn’t have the weight of an entire crew on his back. In those moments, he wasn’t Spooky, the feared shot-caller—he was just Oscar, the guy who loved making you blush.

But when it came to keeping your thing a secret? Yeah, not so smooth. For someone so good at running the streets, managing a gang, and playing the long game, he wasn’t exactly a master of subtlety when it came to you. Anyone with half a brain could’ve seen the way his eyes lingered on you a little too long, or how the leader of the Santos suddenly “had business” on your block more often than he used to. He couldn’t keep his hands away from you, even if he tried.

Like the other day, when Sad Eyes nearly caught you two in Oscar’s car by the bridge. One second you were kissing, and the next, you spotted your brother’s figure crossing the street in the rearview mirror. You had to scramble, acting like you were just “hanging out,” but the fogged-up windows? That was harder to explain.

Still, somehow, your brother remained oblivious. Or at least, he pretended to.

That afternoon, though, something felt off. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Sad Eyes was starting to catch on. The way he’d been looking at you lately, side-eyeing when you “went to run errands” for hours or disappeared without saying a word.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your stomach flipped like it always did when Oscar hit you up. You glanced at the screen: “Pull up. Got something to show you.”

Without hesitation, you shot off the couch, grabbing your jacket as casually as you could, trying to act like you weren’t bolting out the door. But, of course, nothing slipped past Sad Eyes.

He was already in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, that unreadable look on his face. His dark eyes tracked your every movement like he was piecing together a puzzle. “Where you headed?” His voice was calm, but you could hear the suspicion beneath it. He raised one eyebrow, the hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You swallowed, trying to keep your cool as you shrugged. “Just out. You know, running some errands.”

He didn’t budge. His eyes swept over you, like he was analyzing every little thing—how quickly you grabbed your jacket, the way you avoided eye contact, the nervous energy you tried to shake off. “Errands? At this hour?” His tone was flat, but you could tell he was baiting you, waiting for you to slip.

“Yeah,” you said, shoving your hands into your pockets to keep them from fidgeting. “Why, you need something?”

Sad Eyes didn’t answer right away. He just kept looking at you, that knowing expression growing more obvious. “Nah, I’m good,” he finally said, pushing himself off the wall. “Just funny how you’ve always got ‘errands’ when it’s dead quiet around here. Almost like… you’re meeting someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to play it off with another shrug. “What, I can’t run errands in peace now?”

He tilted his head, his smirk more apparent now. “I don’t know. You’re pretty sneaky these days. Who is it? You think I don’t notice when you disappear for hours?”

You bit your lip, glancing toward the door, then back at him. “Ay, Dios mío, ayúdame. You’re overthinking, just shut up.” You muttered, trying to mask your anxious tendencies with a faux frustration.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, stepping aside just enough for you to squeeze past him. “Just be careful. Not everyone’s good at keeping secrets around here.”

You rolled your eyes, slipping by him quickly before he could say anything else, but you could feel his gaze burning into your back as you left. His teasing didn’t fool you—Sad Eyes was suspicious, and he was going to figure it out soon if you weren’t careful.

You hopped into Oscar’s car a few minutes later, relieved to be away from the house. He looked over at you, that smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned in for a quick kiss. The car smelled like his cologne, warm and familiar, and you instantly felt more at ease.

Oscar turned to you, a playful glint in his eyes. “You got out clean?” He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk as he turned the ignition. Almost as if he got a high off of the adrenaline of doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Barely,” you laughed, shaking your head as you recalled the close call with Sad Eyes. “I think he’s catching on.” The thought sent a thrill of nerves through you, mixed with a hint of excitement.

Oscar chuckled, leaning back in his seat with a relaxed confidence. “Let him. What’s he gonna do? Talk us to death?” His voice was laced with sarcasm, and he waved a dismissive hand, as if your brother’s overprotectiveness was the least of your worries.

You couldn’t help but smile at his nonchalance. “You know him—he’s relentless when he’s got a hunch.”

“Yeah, but it’s just talk,” Oscar replied, glancing over at you with a grin. “We both know he’s all bark and no bite. Plus, he’s got a lot on his plate with the Santos. He won’t have time to play detective.”

As he pulled out of the lot, you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you. It was nice to know Oscar was confident, even if you still worried about your brother’s instincts. But right now, you were focused on being with Oscar, and the thrill of the secret made every moment with him feel electrifying.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. Oscar always had a way of brushing things off like nothing could touch him. You leaned back in your seat, stealing glances at him as the car sped through the streets, the sun setting low. The windows were rolled down just a crack, letting in the cool air as you cruised along.

But as much as you tried to forget about it, the nagging thought of your brother lingered. You didn’t want him to find out like this, but at the same time, you couldn’t exactly keep hiding. It was a small neighborhood, and everyone had eyes.

The car slowed down at an empty lot. You figured Oscar had brought you here to talk, or maybe show you something he’d been working on with the Santos. But before you could ask, he parked under a streetlight and pulled you closer, his lips brushing your neck.

The next thing you knew, you were wrapped up in him on his lap, the warmth of his touch making the world outside the car fade away. His fingers brushed your skin, igniting a heat that was both thrilling and intoxicating. You leaned into him, getting lost in the moment, the soft hum of the engine and the fading light wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

But that blissful bubble popped when someone knocked on the window.

You jumped, your heart racing as adrenaline shot through you. Turning quickly, you found your brother standing outside the car, an amused but annoyed look on his face. He leaned against the window, arms crossed, clearly ready to call you out.

“Yo, what’s going on in here?” Sad Eyes said, shaking his head with a smirk. “I knew it. You two really thought you could pull this off without me catching on?”

You glanced at Oscar, who was trying to stifle a laugh. “Uh, surprise?” you said, attempting to sound casual, but your voice cracked.

Sad Eyes leaned closer, his eyebrows raised. “For real? You think I wouldn’t notice my little sister getting all cozy with the Santos’ main man? I swear, y’all are wilding.”

Oscar leaned back, trying to play it cool. “We’re just hanging out. No big deal.”

Sad Eyes snorted. “Hanging out? She’s literally in your fucking lap.” He exclaimed, dramatically waving his hands towards your position, “Ion’ know what kinda hanging out this is, but I know damn well I ain’t sitting in your lap next time we hang out.” Sad Eyes let out a baffled laugh, almost getting a kick out of the pathetic excuses. “What’s next, a love song? ‘Caught in the Act’ by the Santos?”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, warmth flooding your face. “Come on, Antonio! You’re killing our moment—this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, burying your face against Oscar’s chest to hide your flush. The fabric of his shirt was soft and comforting, but you could still feel the weight of your brother’s gaze.

“Embarrassing? Nah, this is comedy gold,” he replied, shaking his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You really thought you could keep this on the low? I could hear you two giggling from down the block. Sounded like a couple of kids sneaking candy!”

Oscar shot you a glance, trying to salvage some dignity. “Hey, we were being discreet… sort of,” he defended, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. He was trying to look nonchalant, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, betraying his amusement.

Antonio raised an eyebrow, the smirk on his face growing. “Discreet? You mean like the Santo, Bananas, being gay discreet? We call him fucking Bananas! Come on!“

You groaned, your face still pressed against Oscar, wishing you could melt into the seat. “This is just great. First, I have to deal with you being nosy, and now Oscar’s getting dissed, too,” you grumbled, peeking up to see Antonio’s teasing grin.

“I’m just saying,” Antonio said, waving his hands dramatically. “If you wanted to keep it quiet, maybe don’t laugh like you’re about to get caught doing something illegal!”

“Okay, okay, point taken!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in defeat, feeling the weight of embarrassment settle in. “We’ll keep it off the radar from now on.”

“Good luck with that,” Sad Eyes said, stepping back with a mischievous grin that made it clear he was enjoying this way too much. “I’ll be watching you two like a hawk. And trust me, the next time I catch y’all in the act, I’m bringing a camera to share the evidence with the whole block!”

As he turned to walk away, you muttered under your breath, “Great, just what I needed—an overprotective brother on my case.” The words slipped out, laced with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Oscar chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned closer. Sad Eyes called back over his shoulder, “Just remember: if you’re gonna sneak around, at least don’t park 3 minutes away from our house!”

As he walked away, you and Oscar burst into laughter, the ridiculousness of the situation finally sinking in. Keeping your secret was turning out to be a lot harder than you thought, but at least you had each other to navigate this messy—and now hilariously exposed—situation.

Oscar leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair like it was all just a casual inconvenience. “Guess the secret’s out,” he said, a grin still plastered on his face.

You wanted to sink into the seat and disappear, but the laughter bubbled up again as you processed how absurd it was to be caught like this. Of all the ways to get discovered, this had to be the least graceful.

Suddenly, Sad Eyes opened the door again, leaning in with an exaggerated expression of faux seriousness. “And stop stealing my fucking condoms!” he yelled with disgust, shutting the door without letting you defend yourself.

You huffed, slapping your hands over your face to hide your flushed cheeks, hearing Sad Eye walking away, muttering something about how he was “too old for this kind of thing” as he disappeared into the shadows.

Once Sad Eyes was out of sight, you looked over at Oscar. He was still smiling, a relaxed vibe about him, his hands resting comfortably on your thighs like nothing could faze him.

“Think he’ll tell anyone?” you asked, half-serious, half-teasing, your heart still racing from the surprise.

“Nah,” Oscar shrugged, looking nonchalant. “But even if he does, it’s our business now.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned closer.

With that, he pulled you back into his embrace, his lips finding yours once more as the car idled in the empty lot. The night was quiet around you, and though your secret was out in the open now, it felt right—just the way it was always bound to be.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 15 🍒

"Shameless"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,469

Summary: secrets are revealed at Sarah's birthday party

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), takes place July 2003, (not-so) secret relationship, morning quickie, unprotected piv (reader is later mentioned to be on birth control), Joel being a grumpy protective dad, jealousy, oral (m receiving), someone walks in on you and Joel during an intimate moment, revelation of your relationship (at last!), no use of y/n. If I've left out any tags please let me know!

Author's Note: there was a lot I wanted to cram in here because the next chapter gets quite serious. Also, anyone interested in the "Shameless" song can find it here. Fun fact: it was written by Billy Joel about a decade before Garth Brooks covered it and quite honestly, Garth sings it better. I feel like it just perfectly captures Joel’s feelings about helplessly falling in love.

Series Masterlist

Your phone rings on your nightstand, the tinny Nokia ringtone interrupting your morning quickie with Joel.

"Don't answer it," he pants behind you, slamming into you as he grabs your hips.

"Wasn't going to," you gasp, closing your eyes when he leans down to kiss your neck.

The phone rings again.

"Who's calling at 5:30 in the morning?" he grumbles, lips grazing your ear, his breath hot on your skin. He pulls you upright, his movements slow and steady. He palms your breast in one hand and toys with your clit, enjoying your little cries of pleasure as you snake your arm around to bring him to you for a sloppy kiss.

It doesn't take long for you to come, Joel hitting that hidden spot inside you this way. He stills long enough to relish the sweet, strong pull of your walls seizing around him. "That's it, my beautiful darlin'," he whispers against your neck. The scent of your skin keeps him spellbound, your pulse pounding just beneath his lips. He's going to think about this moment all day at work.

The phone rings again and, frustrated, you reach out to shut off the noise. Joel doesn't part from you, flattening you to the bed as you scramble for the little silver phone. "Not gettin' away that easy," he grunts, his chest pressed to your back. You turn off the phone ringer, cutting the annoying ringtone in mid-play and toss it on the floor where your clothes from last night are discarded.

Joel sweeps your hair to the side, his thighs on either side of your legs as he pumps into you, hands on your waist. Trapped between his legs you feel him even more snugly inside you, the friction almost too much. "Joel!" you moan, half-muffled by the pillow against your cheek.

"That feel good? You gonna come on my cock again, babygirl?"

Just him mentioning it causes an automatic reaction, your body so acclimated to him by now that his pleasure is yours and vice versa. "Yes," you moan again, pushing yourself up slightly to be heard clearly. "Harder!" you eke out.

He rumbles low in his chest, pulse racing, heart feeling like it might just give out, but what a fucking wonderful way to go. Your pleas for more are answered as his thrusts become aggressive. "Fuck!" you whimper, your body on edge as he continues his hard work.

"I can feel ya grippin' me so tight, sweetheart.. Jesus, I never get tired of feelin' you this way."

"Joel.." you beg. "Don't stop, don't stop..."

He sustained his pace, beads of sweat starting to surface on his skin and yours, his hands on your shoulders for leverage. When you break apart, cunt throbbing, hips and ass arching up to get every inch of him soaked with your sweetness, he can't help but finally let go, slamming into you one final time as he spills every drop into you, staying still, keeping you at an angle so that you get all of it, all of him.

With Joel in the shower (it took a lot of willpower not to join him, but he was already late for work due to your morning fuckfest), you find your phone on the floor and see who called you.

Of course it was your mom.

Three calls, two voicemails, and plenty of texts.

Suppressing a groan, you dial her back, quickly wrapping a blanket around yourself and heading out to the hallway.

She answers with an annoyed tone. "What are you doing that's so important that you can't call back immediately?"

You roll your eyes. "Mom.. it's super early and it's my day off. Can't I sleep in?"

"You should start waking up early, go outside, get some exercise, it's good for you. Plus school is starting soon anyway. Don't you want to pursue good habits?"

"Yeah," you tell her, though it's honestly the last thing on your mind. This summer has distracted you from everything you hoped you'd do, and given you something even better, something you never thought you'd have.. love.. sex.. things most people took for granted but you'd been gifted with simply for being in the right place at the right time.

"Tell me why I have a bill from my insurance for a gynecologist visit."

A large lump forms in your throat, as if a natural instinct to block the truth from coming out. You'd rarely lied to your mom simply because she was good at hounding the truth from you.

"I had a UTI. Sofia recommended a good doctor." In truth you'd gone to get on the pill, a decision you'd been proud of, taking care of your sexual health. Not to mention it made Joel more excitable than ever, and almost every night had been spent with him filling you up.

"Okay.." your mom doesn't sound completely satisfied with that answer, but she lets it go. You talk a little about your summer so far, talk about her boyfriend and the road trips they take. You pray she never makes the trip out here to ruin the peacefulness of the newfound independence you've forged for yourself.

"What're you doin' out here?" Joel asks, finding you leaning against the wall. He's freshly showered, dark hair slick, skin scented with Irish Spring soap. His dark red tee clings to every muscle, even the little belly you're so fond of that he sometimes feels insecure about.

"I had to make a call," you tell him, exhaling sharply as he removes the blanket hiding your body.

"Come on, lemme see."

Your heart thuds in your ears as you open your legs, the remnants of his cum leaving a sticky trail on your skin.

"God damn.. I never get tired of that sight.. gonna fill ya up again soon, babygirl. And don't forget about tomorrow."

Tomorrow.. Sarah's birthday barbecue..

"Sure thing, darlin'. Oh by the way, I put some air in your tire, it was lookin' a little flat. Don't want you runnin' off the road and gettin' hurt," he says.

"Thanks," you're genuinely touched by his gesture.

"Next weekend I'll change the oil," he says, putting the blanket back on you. "But only if you bring me some lemonade while wearin' a cute little skirt." He narrowly evades a swat from your hand as he ducks, laughing. "All right, all right, I'm goin'. Love you." He kisses your lips softly.

About to head out to the mall to get a birthday present for Sarah, you spot a CD on the console of your car. It's Garth Brooks' Ropin' the Wind. The blue-eyed country singer poses on the cover, clad in a black and blue dress shirt against a blue sky background. You had this poster when you were a kid. It's probably still in your room if your mom hasn't redecorated.

On the back of the CD there's a sticky note: play #6

You smile, seeing what track that is, and as you make yourself comfortable in the car, starting it and letting the AC cool your heated skin, you listen to 'Shameless'. The lyrics feel like they come from Joel himself, the passion and devotion, how you've transformed him, stripped away the person he used to be for someone better, happier.

A teardrop splashes onto your lap before you realize you're crying. No one has ever shown you this kind of love, this much love before. If Joel was here now you'd kiss him.

You put the song on repeat, the anthem of your love, the anthem of your last innocent summer.

"Ice cream cake? In this heat?"

"Do you have any extra towels? And sunscreen? I forgot mine."

"I think we're gonna need some more aluminum foil."

Your house is bustling with guests, mostly friends of the Millers, other people you know, and kids Sarah hangs out with. Not one for attention, she's still enjoying celebrating her day, even more so because Joel allowed (hesitantly at first) for her to invite boys.

"One boy," he said at first.

"A boy with a bunch of girls? At that age? He'll be scared shitless," you told him.

"Good. Then he'll leave early."

You and Sarah managed to sweet talk him into agreeing on inviting two boys.

Right now they're both in the water with Sarah and her friends, splashing, being kids.

"How's it feel to have a fourteen-year-old?" you ask him as he prepares the meat to put on the grill. The air is scented with seasoning as he expertly adds it to the chicken and ribs. Tommy's at the other counter making a margarita.

He shrugs a little, glances outside at the pool where the teens are shouting and diving. "Makes me feel old."

"You're not." You rest your head on his shoulder, and hear Tommy behind you saying, "Aww. When's the weddin'?"

"What?" you force a little laugh as you turn around, watching him watching you and Joel. Joel ignores him, face turning red as he prepares the food.

"I'm just sayin'.. y'all are cute together."

"I--" there's no other reaction you can think of on the fly except to act dumb, as you're woefully unprepared for his remark in the first place.

"Let her be," Joel grunts. "Babygirl, can you open the sliding door for me?"

Following you, Joel gives Tommy a look.

Hailey from the cafe shows up, bringing some Smirnoff Ice. You sit in the shade, sipping your drinks as you surreptitiously eye Joel at the grill, listening halfheartedly as she talks about the latest guy she dated, what a disaster he was in bed. Little could she possibly know the fun you've been getting into with your own man.

"He's so hot," she says suddenly.

"Yeah," you agree, still in your own daydreams. "Who?" you ask, alert.

"Joel Miller," she answers, eyes looking past you and at your boyfriend, at the grill, laughing at something Tommy's saying.

"Oh.. yeah.." Her assessment comes so suddenly that you aren't sure how to answer. What feels like jealousy starts to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

Hailey's eyes don't leave him, and it starts to irk you. You feel a smidgen of what Joel must have felt when that idiot at the saloon had his hands on you without your permission.

"I'm fucking him."

The look on her face is priceless. "What? You're kidding.. I thought you were a virgin!"

"Was," you say with some smugness.

"Damn, girl!" Hailey looks impressed. "Is that why you asked me about what it's like with older guys?"

"Sort of. Well, yeah."

"What's he like?" she asks in a whisper.

Now this is the part you want to keep to yourself. Let the world know this man is yours, but you won't give any more details than that. It's private, it's sacred. But now Hailey thinks it's just physical.

"I'm not wearin' that," Joel chuckles at Tommy, averting his eyes from the navy blue apron his brother has produced from a shopping bag.

"At least try it on."

Sighing deeply, Joel removes his old, faded black apron and puts on the new one, unable to take himself seriously.

It reads, EAT MY MEAT on the front, with a picture of a perfectly placed hot dog.

"I ain't wearin' this," Joel repeats.

"You don't gotta. It was just a joke. That's supposed to be your birthday present by the way, so happy early birthday."

"Thanks." Joel rolls his eyes, stuffing the apron back into the bag and tending to the barbecue.

"So.." Tommy sips the margarita in his hand. "How'd an old sourpuss like you land a college girl?" He motions to you, walking back towards the house. "And don't tell me 'nothing' because that ain't true. She was leavin' your house that one mornin', you brought her home the other night, carryin' her though the front door like it was your honeymoon. You're with her all the time."

Joel shakes his head, purses his lips as he ignores his brother's look. He's tempted to say, 'She's just a cute, feisty eighteen-year-old who takes care of my daughter and gives great head.' But he doesn't have it in him to denigrate you to his own kin.

"Keep this between us," Joel warns him. Tommy nods. "But yeah, we've been seein' each other."

A little smile forms on his little brother's face. "I knew it! Sofia owes me twenty bucks."

"Don't tell her. Not yet."

Tommy nods. "Okay.. but you might not wanna wait too long, brother. Makes you look guilty."

"Sometimes I feel guilty," he mutters. "I'm twice her age. What's she doin' with someone like me?"

"I'm askin' myself the same thing," Tommy laughs. "You deserve to be happy," he adds.

"I appreciate that," Joel says warmly. "And she does.. she makes me happy."

Coming back outside from taking a break in the AC, the first thing you zone in on is Joel. And Hailey is next to him, flipping her blonde hair. Touching his shoulder. They're laughing together.

Jealousy is not an attractive trait in a woman, you can almost hear your mother say, but for the first time in your life you feel it, like a cold spike in your belly, altering your brain chemistry, blinding you to everything except them.

Before you realize what you're doing, you're marching over to them, looping your arm through Joel's, telling Hailey that you need to talk to him.

You're on autopilot, your brain screaming at you to be normal, to stop while you still can, but the green-eyed monster has taken over, and it's this monster that brings you to your room, closing the door behind you as you tear his stupid apron off him and unbutton his cargo shorts.

"Babygirl, what--"

"Why were you talking to her?" you ask, relieved that he's not hard because of Hailey and disappointed that he's not hard because he's alone with you.

"She was askin' me when the food was gonna be ready," he replies, a little exhalation of surprise when you get down on your knees before him and stroke him. "What's this about, baby? Are you.. are you jealous?"

"Of course not." You seem offended he would even suggest it, but there's a desperation to the way you're handling his cock, as if you're afraid if you stop touching it it'll go into someone else.

"Baby, it's okay. I don't like her. Don't even know 'er."

There's silence, a small grunt as you get him worked up for you, finally hard and pulsing in your hand.

"She knows." you tell him, licking the salty precum off his tip. "I told her."

His dark eyes narrow a moment before going wide as he thrusts against your touch, needing friction, either the softness of your hands or the wetness of your mouth. "I told Tommy," he admits.

There's a brief moment where the air is filled with a sense of harmony. It's a relief to you both.

With a heart full of warm, fuzzy feelings, you bring him to your mouth, cupping his ass with your hands.

"I want to do the cake!" Sarah announces, emerging from the pool and wrapping herself in a towel. Her friends follow suit, still kids at heart despite the fact that they're about to go into high school. Sofia brings out the ice cream cake, perfectly thawed out, and Tommy places the candles on - trick ones that don't extinguish - as everyone begins to gather around.

"Wait, where's Dad?" Sarah asks. "Wait, let me go find him."

The house is calm and cool inside, chilling her still-damp skin. Joel's nowhere to be seen, so she searches deeper into the house.

Getting closer to your bedroom, she hears something, a soft sound, a sigh or a moan. She doesn't think about what it could be, only who.

Your bedroom door swings open silently, and it's a long moment before Sarah can grasp what she sees: you, on the floor in front of her dad, the soft sighs coming from both of you.

It's just a second but it feels like an hour goes by as she leaves, closing the door behind her louder than she intends, walking back out to the party, a thousand-yard stare on her face.

She walked in on an intimate moment between you and her dad, and though she'd teased you about it, even predicted that something like this would happen, seeing it was very different. If she's walked in on you kissing it would've been different, but it's as if you've ruined her hopes, as if you've skipped the fairytale ending and shown a cruder, lewd side of being an adult.

When she returns, brushing the tears from her eyes, she simply says that she doesn't feel well, they can skip the birthday song, please serve her friends first, she's going home next door to lay down.

Joel's a little disappointed when he learns Sarah left early, attributing it to her burgeoning teenage attitude, which he'd rather not deal with at the moment.

Selfishly, you're more preoccupied with whoever it was who closed the door on you and Joel earlier. Obviously someone had seen you, accidentally, and left quickly. It could be anyone at this party. Walking back after your hookup feels like going in front of a firing squad. A glance from this person means one thing, a word from another person means something else.

As the day grows late you keep at Joel's side. He doesn't try to push you away. You make yourself comfortable, sitting next to him as you eat, letting your thigh brush his. You even lightly brush an imaginary piece of lint off his shirt, your hand lingering on his shoulder as you talk with the other guests.

You forget who's idea it is to tie knots into cherry stems. You've never heard of the challenge, and when a bowl of leftover cherries from the cocktails made earlier that day is brought to the table, you bite the sweet bulb of red fruit and easily tie a knot on one with your fingers. Joel teases you, telling you, "No, babygirl, with your tongue."

A little moment passes between you, a shared look that is not lost on the others. You take another cherry and he bites off the fruit while you take the stem and place it in your mouth.

It's a hidden talent, one that impresses the table when you effortlessly tie a knot into the stem using only your mouth.

And that's how you get the nickname Cherry.

"You know what this is s'posed to imply, right, darlin'?" Joel rasps, twirling your tongue-tied knot in his thick fingers.

"No idea," you smile, lost in his eyes.

"It means you're good with your tongue," he murmurs.

It happens so quickly, so naturally that you don't realize it until it's happening. Your lips are on his cheek, loving the feel of his stubble against your soft skin, and everyone else is looking at you.

"What?" Joel asks, addressing the table, pink showing up on his cheeks. "My girlfriend can't give me a lil' kiss?"

Cleaning up the kitchen later on, Sofia comes next to you, busying herself with packaging leftovers and rinsing off dirty dishes. You can feel the tension between you.

"I don't approve," she says sternly, not looking at you.

"Of what?" you try to sound innocent, but you know she can see right through you, that it's pointless to lie.

"Of you and Mr. Miller," she says, using the formal surname you should have been using all along.

"You don't have to approve," you say, scrubbing particularly hard at a stubborn spot on the stove.

"He's twice your age, cousin," she says with concern. "I'm supposed to be looking out for you while you're staying with me. How's it gonna look, me letting you date someone older?"

"That's all you care about? How it's affecting you?" you shoot back. "Please. You sound like my mom."

Sofia sighs. "This kind of relationship can't be healthy. He's done more, he knows more.."

"I know."

"Please don't tell me you've-"

"We have." There's no pleasure in telling her this, but it's a massive relief to tell someone.

"God damn it," she mutters. "Are you at least being careful?"

"Of course!"

Sofia's at a loss, unsure of what to say, the warnings countless on her tongue, but unwilling to part from her lips.

"I love him," you tell her. It's whispered confession, as if your own truest feelings carry the worst sin of your life.

Another author's note: just wanted to clarify that Sarah didn't see anything too inappropriate, but she definitely understood what was going on.

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dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[testingthewatersss]

Three Nights Night one Trigger warnings for PTSD and nightmares, mentions of war, torture, phantom limb etc, wintersolider flashbacks in future parts. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Part One of three 2300 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Apparently it takes three days to form a habit, you decide to see what three nights can do.

Falling in love had been easy. Easier than breathing.

So easy in fact that Bucky hadn’t been able to stop himself from worrying about it all for at least 10 hours a day.

Worrying about being so dependant on another person, when he’d lost everyone else that he’d ever cared about, aside from Steve.

Steve who had laughed at his concern, a quick “That’s why they call it falling, Buck— It’s not meant to be difficult, and if anyone deserves something nice like this, it’s you.” being the end of their conversation on the matter.

Truthfully, he isn’t that dependent on you. Not yet, anyway.

But, fighting to not fall is definitely not easy, and right now, he’s clawing onto everything he can, just so that he won’t let himself go too far too fast.

But God knows he’s in over his head already. He spends every waking second thinking about you, and when he can next see you, and talk to you, and maybe hold your hand for a moment-

Yeah, it’s like you hung the damn moon.

and now, you're standing in front of him, looking lovely as ever, in a towel fresh from the shower you've shared, and just like you do every night, you're offering to let him stay the night in your room. "Where you might actually get some rest for once"-

-and he’s trying not to say yes. He’s fighting against every fibre in his body that wants to curl up beside you right now, this second, and it’s— It’s... It's much harder than it should be.

“…Sweetheart…” you murmurs, voice concerned, “…You tell me every mornin' that your bed's too cold. I'm just reminding you that mine is very warm, and if you want to, you can start spending the nights here, you leave late and come by early as it is…”

He wants too. He really, really wants too.

And it shows.

His face is so easy to read.

You thinks absentmindedly that it’s no wonder HYDRA kept him masked so much. You wouldn't have wanted to look into his eyes all day if you were them, either.

He’s just watching you silently. Jaw ticking as he argues with himself about how to reply to your repeated offer. Not wanting to pressure him, you decide to laugh it off and kiss him goodnight, but then, you sees his eyes drop to the floor.

The expression that’s on his face now is so hopelessly forlorn that you can’t help but reach out to stroke his cheek-

His whole head snaps sidewards in an automatic bid to protect himself from a slap and you feel a dagger slice through your heart as you realise what's happening.

“Oh, Sweetheart” you whisper, fighting to keep your tone calm, “You’re tired, huh?”

He gets jumpy when he’s tired.

He gets quiet, too, and teary on occasion, and now, he looks like he’s on the verge of something new.

When he drags his gaze back to your face, he looks like a cornered stray. Like someone who’s about to be beaten half to death for flinching without permission.

“You don’t have to stay” you remind him softly, “Bucky, of course you don’t— just try and get some rest okay? I'm gettin' a little worried...”

Your hands are back at your side, and your face, he notices, your face is nothing short of adoring.

And that… God, oh, god, that is what is going to make him lose his grip;

“I, god, doll I’d love to stay with you…”

He’s said it now, and he knows that just like that, that it’s over.

That he’s giving up to the free fall and that the best he can hope for is a better landing than the last time he fell and ended up at someone else’s mercy.

“I… I just, I- I- I wanted to do it different.”

Your head tilts curiously to the side as you watch him ringing his flesh hand in his metal one.

"Different how?" you ask, a genuine quirk in your brow.

Bucky hears himself huff as his cheeks flush hottly, "I'm a lot to deal with at night" he confesses dryly, "I- I was hopin' to make it easier on you, doll- give you more time to back out"

"Back out?" You echo, almost offended by the idea, "That's-"

"I.. I really can be a lot, doll..." he cuts in, voice gruff with embarrassment, "...I know you love me, and you've always been real patient with me, you're... you're a damn angel, and I've always wanted to spend the night, I've always hated leavin' but I- I just couldn't put all of that on you, because I know it's too much-"

“-I don’t think I know what you’re talking about” you say, interuppting him with a smile, “Buck, you’re gettin’ awful flustered”

He scoffs at the playful lilt in your words and reaches up to paw at his chin, grateful for the way you'd stopped him from rambling.

“Yeah” he agrees after a breath, “You do that to me, sugar, haven’t ya noticed?”

Slower this time, you reach out to stroke his cheek again.

This time, he lets himself keen into the feeling of your fingers against his face, almost purring in delight at the contact.

“I have an idea” you say softly, “why don’t we try three nights”

“Three nights?” he echos quietly, “Three nights of what?“

"Of sharing" you tell him, beaming now, "Tonight, tomorrow and the night after, if you want to stop before then, then we will..."

I wont, Bucky thinks instantly, I won't ever want to stop, thats the problem. "If you want to keep going after that, then that's what we'll do"

"It's not me I'm worryin' about" he murmurs gruffly.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "I've been inviting you for half a year, Barnes. I'm not going to be the one kicking you out."

"But if you do want more space, doll- then you'll tell me, right?"

You look at him, seeing the stubbornness already setting on his features, and then you nod in agreement, knowing any further argument would be pointless.

"During the three nights" he pushes, "You'll tell me, if I do anythin' that is too much for you, then you'll tell me and give me chance to fix it- promise me"

And then, you lean in and kiss him. Your palm flattens out against his jaw, and before he knows how, his own arms have laced around your waist, holding you against his chest as you pull away to nod, your free hand reaching down for his metal hand, so that you can twist your pinky around his. "Promise” you murmur, “and, will you please try remember that I love you, and want you here... don't worry too much, okay? nothin's goin' to change that”

Your tone has shifted now, you're not playful, you're genuinely asking because you care about him, and it shows.

"Promise" he says, smiling as he squeezes his little finger gently around yours before bringing your hands up to his lips, where he can kiss against your knuckles, hiding his clear emotion for a second.

Before you can get suspicious about the way he's trying to bury his face in your fingers, he’s throwing himself into your front, grabbing you into such a tight hug that you have to gasp for air in between a bout of surprised laughter. You flex your newly freed fist and waste no time in squeezing him back, trying and failing to return the strength that he is putting into the embrace.

Bucky’s not laughing, though. He’s just holding you.

He’s just clutching you as tightly as he can without hurting you, and burying his face in your shoulder, while he tries to convince himself that he won't end up doing something that makes him lose you forever.

You give him a minute, not wanting to try and break free from the stifling position when he so clearly needs the closeness;

and then, you realise that his pulse is racing. You can feel it thrumming against your front, too fast to be your own.

“Sweetheart” you murmur, voice betraying your concern, “You okay?”

Your breathlessness jars him. He remembers himself instantly, and releases his grip with a flush of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry” he bursts, “Shit- doll, I- I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“What? Hug me?”

“Crush you” he corrects, grateful for the playful tone you're using, “I didn’t—”

He looks so bashful. His eyes are firmly set downwards and he’s wringing his flesh hand in his metal one in an obvious display of awkwardness. and because he wants to reach out and hold your hand, again-

“I’m fine” you tell him calmly, reaching out to stroke his cheek, “you look exhausted though, huh? Shall we turn in?”

Silently, he looks up at you, and you can physically see a layer of bravado falling away.

This is difficult for him, you realise, being vulnerable doesn’t come easy to him, especially not right now, and sleeping next to someone? It doesn’t really get much more vulnerable than that.

“I love you” You decide to say, disregarding how often you've already said it, “It’s going to be alright.”

And then you're reaching out to take his hand, and he’s letting you, because he's yours, and he doesn't want to pretend not to be, not now he thinks it might all work out, and then, the next thing he knows, he’s in bed.

The journey there, and getting undressed is a blur.

He’s so nervous that he’s in a daze.

He thinks that that's ridiculous.

You've been intimate, more intimate than just getting undressed and being under a blanket together, anyway. But for some reason this feels much more intense than all of that.

And then, he’s back to starring.

He’s on his side, a few inches away from where you are, and he’s just looking at your face. Trying to drink in the sight of your features, trying to memorise the curve of your jaw, and your cheeks, and your mouth—

“C’mere, sweetheart”

Your voice is like honey, and he’s blushing like a teenager;

“How do you like sleeping?” you ask, genuinely curious, “Cuddled up? or with some space?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then he closes it. Swallowing dryly and reaching up to paw at his jaw while he thinks of a way to tell you that he honestly doesn’t know anymore without it sounding tragic.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve had options” you say for him, “Did you ever share a bed with a girl before?”

A crease forms between his brows as he tries to force his mind back;

“Does my ma count?”

you laugh at that, soft and airy as you reaches out to stroke his temple.

“No” you murmurs, “No, I don’t think so…”

“Then no” he sighs, “I never did more than kiss the dames I courted, doll”

“This is ‘more than kissing’?” you tease softly, “We’re barely touching, Barnes.”

“Barely” he agrees, voice almost a breath, “But back then, things… things were different.”

“I know” you say, sympathetic now, “I’m sure you were a perfect gentleman”

“I wouldn’t say that” he murmurs, edging his front towards you, “a gentleman wouldn’t have been kissing them either”

“Well I’m sure they weren’t complaining” you sigh, “a handsome officer like you, they could’ve done worse.”

You're beaming at him as he scoffs, small and shy under your consideration.

“Want to try gettin’ closer?” he hears you offer, “You can always go back to your side if you get too warm.”

It’s almost too good to be true. The idea of being curled up in your arms. Of being able to sleep tucked up against your chest, of maybe, just maybe, being able to drift off without his thoughts spiralling into panic because everything is too quiet and he can’t convince himself that he’s not back in some awful cell—

“C’mere…” You purr, adjusting your position to receive him, “…It’s alright…”

It’s more than alright.

He's pressed against you. He can feel your arms wrapped around his back, holding him close and the skin on skin is so soothing that he has to bite back a moan of delight as he settles into position. His flesh arm is bent up, with his fist under his chin, and his metal one is draped over your waist so that he can feel your pulse thrumming through the censors in his palm.

It’s stable, and calm, and he is so, so in love that his chest feels like it could burst from the pressure, and he wouldn't have a single complaint—

“I don’t want to speak to soon” you murmur, “but I think this might be a winner, huh?”

“Yeah” he agrees quietly, “I— I think so.”

The idea of tearing himself away from the embrace is heinous.

The idea of going back to his own room in three nights, knowing what heaven feels like is worse.

This, is the closest to calm he’s felt in a life time. This, feels a lot like the mercy he used to beg for, back when mercy hadn’t been something he understood.

And then his eyes are closed.

And he’s falling asleep, and he thinks dreamily that he should be trying harder to stay awake. That he shouldn’t be giving in this easily—

but then, he hears you.

He hears you hushing him, exhaling gently into his hair as you stroke a slow circle across the bare skin of his back, and he decides that if he is going to fall, then he’s glad it’s with you. The fact that he's deeply asleep in minutes doesn't really surprise you.

The fact that he stays that way does. You'd been prepared to soothe him for hours, if that's what he'd needed, but then again, you think, as you start to drift off yourself, he probably has a lot of actual resting to catch up on.

x | night 2 | night 3 Masterlist

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 3 (gravity falls g/t)

omgggggg i'm still doing this! i actually have so much written! i didn't think i'd get this far but i just can't stop. enjoy!

parts 1 and 2!

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

“Alright, shorty, where does this go?”

“Right there. In the – yeah, that one.”

“Are you sure? This doesn’t look right.”

“How would you possibly know what looks right?”

“Don’t question me! I can look at a picture and know what it’s supposed to be!”

“Diagram. It’s a diagram.”

“Psh. Whatever. S’just a word to make dumb nerds seem smarter than the rest of us.” 

“Pretty sure Ford is smarter than the rest of us.”

That’s how pretty much every conversation had gone today.

The first couple of days weren’t too bad, though it was mostly spent by Stan working on something alone until he remembered Jay was there. Sometimes, he would disappear into the portal room for hours, trying to get it back on by sheer willpower.

Now, it was day five – no, six – seven? – of the portal reactivation effort, and if Jay had to put a number on it, she’d say zero progress had been made. She was trying her best to honor this truce of sorts that they made, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the days went on, especially the ways he’d mock their size difference. 

“Hey, hand me those pliers, won’tcha?” he would say, a wicked smile plastered on his face. Or he’d be sitting on the floor and pretend he couldn’t reach the table when he needed something. More than once, Jay threatened to drop something on his head, but that just seemed to make him laugh even harder. 

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just teasing you, tiny,” he would say, feigning innocence, and then he’d give her a hearty poke in the back and she’d stumble forward, often half-falling and needing her hands to stop her momentum. “Don’t take it so personal!”

“Easy for you to say,” she’d mumble, rubbing whatever part of her body was now sore.

“Take it from me, kid. When life punches you, you gotta punch back. Don’t be such a pushover.”

It was almost like he was giving advice to himself as much as he was lecturing Jay. She didn’t need to be told how to survive, least of all by a giant. 

Jay tried to keep her distance, offering up nuggets of wisdom where she could, but Stan was mostly dismissive of anything she had to say. 

Until she actually figured something out.

He was mindlessly flipping through the journal one day when he suddenly stormed off, presumably to find a soda, or something a little stronger. Curious as to what got him so mad, Jay trotted over to the open journal and ambled onto the page, setting her hands on her hips as she read over the impossibly large display.

Jay’s eyes scanned the page dutifully, trying to pick up the little things she learned from Ford. He had shown her that equations that seemed like a random amalgamation of letters, numbers and squiggles actually had meaning when you knew what stood for what.

That’s when she spotted it. It was a large, red W – something Ford called the “weirdness coefficient.” She didn’t know exactly what it was used for, but she actually recognized the string of data that succeeded it. She followed it along, running across the page a few times to get it all in her head. She was so distracted that she never noticed Stanley enter the room, drink in hand. The loud cracking of the can’s tab snapped her back to reality. 

“Ew,” Stan said, eyeing her with suspicion as he sat down. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“No! Don’t sit! You’ve gotta help me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think I figured something out.”

Stan nearly spit out his drink. “You? Figuring something out? Hah, sure, and I’m a millionaire.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Jay retorted. “It’s not like you’ve done anything.”

“It’s only been a couple of days, squirt. I’m just gettin’ started.”

Jay rolled her eyes. Stan’s machismo attitude was really unmatched. “Okay, well, can you hear me out on this one?” Stan took a long sip of his soda, then nodded. “Okay, you see this here? This big W? That’s the weirdness coefficient. It’s supposed to account for the average amount of weirdness – or, anomalies – that can leak through to this dimension at any given time. So this equation here, it stipulates the maximum amount of W – weirdness – that can be allowed through P, or the portal. So, we have to make sure the leakage output doesn’t exceed this number here.” She pointed to a bold number circled in red, looking up at Stan, a little winded from all the talking. 

Stan blinked. “I have no idea what you just said.”

She groaned. “It means we have to input this number,” she tapped it again for good measure, “into that machine over there.”

Stan squinted at her tiny arm pointing outward, trying to hide his amused smile. He turned around, then turned back. “How do you know that’s the right one?”

“I just know. I saw Ford using it a million times.”

“What if you’re wrong and we blow up the place?”

“Hey, if you don’t trust me, you can just say you don’t trust me.”

“Alright. I don’t trust you.”

“Okay, you weren’t actually supposed to say it,” Jay said, crossing her arms. “Come on! How can we work together if you won’t listen to me?”

Stan tapped his chin. He seemed to actually be thinking about it. “You bring up a valid point.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Now, could you put the number in?”

For the slightest moment, Stan hesitated. The inflection in her voice, and the authoritative way in which she spoke, sounded so much like Ford that it almost made him scream. Yes, yes, I know might as well have been his catchphrase. Stan tried really, really hard not to think about it, but for a nanosecond, his mind was filled with so much pain at the reminder of this little person spending so much time with Ford that she picked up on his speaking patterns that it made him want to curl up his fist and –

He stopped. Come on, Stan, you need her. You know you do. The sooner Ford is back, the sooner you’ll never have to see her again.

“Where am I putting it in, short stuff?” he finally asked. Jay tried to point him in the right direction, but even when he found the right knobs, he didn’t know how to do it correctly.

“Ugh, why don’t you just do it?” Stan sighed angrily.

Jay furrowed her brow. “This again? Are you serious?”

“Don't think this doesn't hurt my ego. But the only thing worse than having you do it is listening to you squeak about it,” Stan grumbled. “Now, c’mon, just do this so we can move on.”

Jay nervously laughed. He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Stanley, I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t exactly walk over there and start pressing buttons.”

“What, I thought you wanted to be all self-sufficient? And didn’t you say you were good at climbing?”

Jay clenched her jaw. Maybe telling him little things about borrower life wasn't such a good idea. “Well, yeah, but I don’t – that would take a while, and I don’t think you want to wait. So just, listen, you just have to–”

“Nope! Not this again,” Stan declared. He took a few steps toward her and was now looming over her, hand twitching. She knew what he was about to do, but was powerless to stop it.

“Be – careful!” she yelped. She felt her arm bend uncomfortably against her body as Stan stuck his hand underneath her and lifted her into the air. She shut her eyes tight as the pressure in her head mounted. Even when they stopped moving, it didn’t feel like it.

Stan stared intently, wondering why she wasn’t moving. “Uh. You okay?”

His booming voice only made her ears ring more. It had to be 30 full seconds before she finally felt centered again. Her stomach dropped when she opened her eyes and saw just how far the ground was. Sure, she had been up higher, but the anxiety of sitting in Stan’s hand only exacerbated her unease. She never even felt 100% secure in Ford’s hand, given the way he would sometimes forget she was there. Fidds was the only one she felt remotely comfortable holding her.

“Tiny? Hello?” Stan shook his hand a bit, as if the issue was that she forgot where she was. He felt the tiniest of pressures as she pushed her palms into his, and he immediately stopped moving. Oh.

“Please – move slower,” she croaked, not even bothering to look up at him. “And don’t just pick me up without asking.”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” he said, sounding a bit dismissive. Truthfully, he was fully aware and then some about what he just did, but he didn’t want to admit that he probably fucked up. He walked the few steps over to where the control console was and stuck his arm out, holding her out in front like a platform.

“Okay, short stack. Just tell me where to move you.”

“The row of five switches with the red light up there.” Stan pointed to confirm, and she nodded. “Yeah, that one.”

She should have prepared for how fast he was going to move, but it still caught her off guard. She wanted to yell at him for not listening, but getting fresh with a giant while she was in their hand was not something she was interested in.

Stan chuckled in amusement at how much effort it took her to turn the knob, and it turned to a full-blown laugh at the way she couldn’t push one of the switches back up.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” she huffed, clearly exhausted.

“Oh, yes,” Stan grinned. “Extremely.”

“Just – flick it yourself, please,” she sighed, plopping down in his palm. His hand reflexively twitched at the movements, and he shot her a brief look. Man, she actually looks beat from that.

“Fine, fine. Let the big guy show you how it’s done,” Stan said with that smarmy smile. Jay watched incredulously at the way his arm seemed to stretch on forever from his body to the panel. It hung over her like a heavy barrier; something her weight wouldn’t even register against. He could swing his arm and knock her off his hand and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

It was even worse watching him flick the switch with ease. Sure, she had watched Ford and Fidds do crazy human things all the time, but something about the way Stan did it was different. It was almost… taunting.

“There. Now what?”

“Well, if I’m right, it should–”

Suddenly, she couldn’t speak. It was as if her entire body was frozen. A dull sensation reverberated through her, and then, pain. A loud popping sound zapped her ears and she fell backwards, landing hard on her butt, her head ringing, her body aching.

“Woah!” Stan shouted, flinching back. A small spark jumped out from the panel, but he narrowly avoided it. “Was that supposed to–” he started, but stopped. She wasn't moving. Again.

“Hey, tiny, you alright?” Nothing. “Kid?” Still nothing. She was definitely breathing, but seemed to be in a lot of pain. “Jay, you okay?”

She grit her teeth, trying to usher the pain out of her body. Luckily, it melted away after a few seconds, and even though her head was spinning, she was alright. It was no worse than being whipped around on Stan’s hand, anyway.

“I’m fine,” she finally said, though her voice almost sounded like it was glitching. She took another moment to recompose herself. “Guess it didn’t work.”

Stan almost forgot to respond. “I don’t even know what it was supposed to do.”

“It was supposed to – once you put in the W maximum, it should have calibrated a couple other systems. Thing must be fried after the portal was turned on.”

“Oh,” Stan said, pretending to understand. “So, how do we fix it?”

“I – don’t know,” Jay admitted. “I’ve never been inside there before. Not really sure what to do with the wires.”

Stan hummed, unsure of where to go from here. This was the most tangible progress they had made since forming this unlikely alliance, and it got them nowhere.

“Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better… good job.” Jay winced at the way he sounded like the words were being tortured out of him. “Figuring this thing out, I mean.”

“I got it,” Jay said, a small smile forming on her lips. Why did that compliment make her feel so… warm? “Thanks, Stanley.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t be expecting any more compliments from me,” he shot back, though there was no bite to it. “Don’t want you going soft on me.”

“Psh. Never in a million years,” Jay teased.

To her surprise, Stan set her down slowly on the table before burying his head back in the journal. He was only half-reading it, though, because he couldn’t get his mind off Jay. It was so contradictory – every time she did something impressive, like spout mathematical nonsense she had no business knowing, she would be rendered immobile by a slight altitude change or a small electric shock. She was so much more fragile than he thought. It was beginning to dawn on him that he actually did have to be careful, or else he might accidentally kill her. He shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t be so reckless when it came to someone’s entire life. 

Not again.

Ever since then, he seemed to care a little bit more about her opinion, which confused Jay to no end, but she didn’t complain. Even if he was invasive and had no regard for her personal space, he seemed to have a... gentler air about him. Like he was trying more.

But it didn’t always show, especially when he got frustrated. They were rapidly approaching that territory right now.

“I think the red wire has to connect to the other end,” she said, glancing at the journal. “No, not that one, the other one! Right there – you keep missing it!”

Stan clenched his teeth. He was getting tired of being bossed around. “Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you come do it?”

Jay felt her blood boil. “I hate when you say that.”

Stan grinned wildly. “I know.”

“Ugh.” Jay flopped on her back. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“We? You’re not even doin’ anything.” Stan abandoned his rewiring effort and joined Jay at the table. “Maybe you’re reading this thing wrong.” He grabbed the journal and pulled it to him, taking Jay along with it. She yelped and held on tight as she was moved at a blinding speed from one side of the table to the other.

“C’mon, get off,” Stan began to shoo her away like a fly, and Jay quickly jumped off the book. “I gotta look at this thing.”

Jay stumbled when she landed, staring up at Stan with a disapproving look until she gave up trying to telegraph her annoyance. The worst part was he didn’t ignoring her maliciously; he genuinely didn’t care that she was there. She swallowed, her unease growing at the extended silence as Stan scanned the journal. She had been in close physical proximity to him for basically a week now, and it was unnerving. She had no idea what he was ever going to do, and the only thing stopping him from picking her up all the time was that she grossed him out. But that didn’t feel like a strong enough motivator to stop him from swiping her clean off the table if he got mad enough.

“Ugh, what am I missing?” Stan groaned. He tilted his head, along with the journal, trying to find some hidden message.

Jay marveled at the way he so easily swung the book around. “I don’t think you’re missing anything. There’s only so many ways to read it.”

“C’mon, short stack, you hung out with my know-it-all brother more than any female ever has. You gotta know something. What about these…” he narrowed his eyes, “weird secret codes?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried my best with those, but I don’t think I know enough to figure them out.”

“I’ll say,” Stan mumbled under his breath. Jay heard it, but chose to ignore it.

Stan took a moment to think. Maybe I should go to the library and find a book about this or somethin’. Hah, now I’m really thinking like Ford. But the last thing he wanted was to go into town. There had to be an answer in the journal somewhere. Where there’s a test, there’s always an answer sheet.

But first, he was going to do it his way.

“I’m gonna go shove the lever around again,” Stan announced, grabbing the tool box and disappearing into the portal room. Jay knew it was a futile effort, so while Stan got himself needlessly tired, she would go back to working on her secret project — the new hook that would buy her freedom. 

At best, Stan was tolerable, and being at his mercy was giving her increasing amounts of anxiety. If she couldn’t go back for the contraptions that Fidds made her, she’d just have to do it the old fashioned way. But she only went to work when Stan was asleep or in the portal room. There was no way he could know about this.

Jay had been relegated to sleeping on the table while Stan was here. He had only gone upstairs to get food and drinks, often falling asleep right on the table and getting back to work when his own snores jolted him awake.

Thankfully, there was plenty of material to work with. Not so thankfully, none of it was a rope and a paper clip. She had already fashioned two hooks out of sharp pieces of metal, so her next step was either finding something long enough to lower her to the ground or tying a bunch of short but sturdy things together. Even a parachute could work at this rate.

Her mind flashed back to times with Ford, when they would test out her physics with paper hang gliders and makeshift obstacle courses out of rulers and tape dispensers. He went through a phase of trying to see how far a fall she could take before hurting herself, but that only lasted a week before Jay made him drop the subject. His final conclusion? “Very far.”

Evidently, though, she got too into tinkering, because she didn’t even notice when Stan walked back into the room, jacket shed and face sweaty from all the work. He watched her curiously, trying to see what exactly she was doing. Maybe she just messes with metal like it’s a toy or something. She was working on sharpening her hooks and finding heavy enough things to wrap them around when Stan cleared his throat, and she nearly shot 500 feet in the air.

“What’re you doing?” Stan asked.

“Nothing!” Jay squeaked. “I mean, not nothing nothing, I’m just – it’s –”

But Stan was no longer interested in her ramblings. He reached down and carefully pinched one of the metal hooks between his fingers, ripping it right out of her hands.

“HEY!” she yelled, but to no avail. Even if she could fight him for it, it wouldn’t have mattered, because her legs turned to jelly and her arms became numb the moment his massive fingers came next to her, filling her entire body with a sense of dread. She quickly let go to avoid being pulled up into the air.

“What is this…?” Stan turned the object, observing it intently, marveling at just how damn small it was. Jay felt sick at how miniscule her only path to freedom looked between Stan’s fingers. 

“It’s nothing! Give it back!” she tried, but one glance from Stan promptly shut her up and even pushed her back a few steps. God, he’s so far away.

“Huh… you made this?” he asked, holding it out to her. She just shrugged, unwilling to answer.

Stan wouldn’t have been suspicious otherwise, but he had spent the better part of his life either around criminals or being the criminal. He knew what guilt looked like. He also knew a bad liar when he saw one. He just couldn’t figure out what she was trying to hide.

Not at first, anyway.

He tried to think: if he was that tiny, what would he need something like this for? It certainly wasn’t for fixing the portal, so what was it for? Fun? Stan didn’t know what was so fun about bent metal. Maybe she was just bored? Then there was no reason for her to act so suspicious. She would have just said so.

Then it hit him. What’s the one thing she wanted more than anything, besides getting Ford back? To be left alone. And it wasn’t like she could just walk out of the room whenever she wanted.

She had been looking for an escape since Stan found her. She was manufacturing a way out.

Stan ahh’d in realization, and the way Jay’s face went pale was all the confirmation he needed. 

“Not sure how you were planning to escape with this, and I admire the effort. Really! But you can’t hustle a hustler, kid.”

Jay didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter. Her heart was pounding, her breathing labored. She had no clue what was coming next.

“Look, if you don’t wanna be here, I won’t stop you. In case you haven't noticed, I’m not running a charity here. I’m trying to get my brother back, and I can’t seem to figure out if that’s really what you want or not.” He callously tossed the metal back to her, and she scrambled out of the way as it clanged a few inches from her. “So scram, alright? Get outta here.”

Jay blinked. He was… really going to let her go like that? She didn’t believe him. Humans didn’t do that. They never did. They’d always be back.

But that part didn’t even matter, because she did want Ford back. Even with the threat of opening the portal, she wanted her best friend back more than anything. She just really, really hated working with his irritating brother, and she didn’t know how to deal with him. The only people she had ever dealt with this closely were Ford and Fidds. She wasn’t used to anything else. She couldn't handle anything else.

“I’m – I’m not trying to – to leave,” Jay stammered. God, that sounded so pathetic. “I just – need some freedom, that’s all.”

A light went off in Stan’s head. “You can’t leave, can you?”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Of course I can leave–”

“No, not this room, this house. You don’t want to leave here. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”

“I–” Jay started, but she had no words. He was right. He was right, damn it! He saw her as this helpless little thing, and he was right.

“Huh, so the squirt that thinks she’s better than me needs me to keep her safe. Right?”

“I don’t – I don’t think I’m better than you!” Jay said, but it didn’t sound convincing. And she didn’t even try and dispute the other point.

Stan’s face scrunched up. “Huh, you sure act like it. Well, squirt, you may need me, but I don’t need you. If you disappeared right now, I wouldn’t waste my energy lookin’ for you, because I’m the one who actually cares about fixing this damn thing and saving Ford!”

Jay knew fighting back would be a bad idea. It had never, ever worked before. But she couldn’t take the constant antagonizing. She just couldn’t.

“Stop acting like I don’t want him back, either!” Jay blurted. Stan looked at her in surprise, but it was too late. The floodgates were open. She was tired of hearing this. “It’s just – it’s dangerous! And there’s only so much I can do!”

“Yeah, and you do a pretty terrible job! Half the time you sit there and mock me for not knowing the “difference” between a picture and a diagram! And there isn’t even a difference!”

“There is!”

“See! You’re just like Ford, always talking down to me, acting like I’m just some – bumbling idiot who can’t possibly be on his level.”

“That’s not true!” Jay asserted. “I don’t think you’re an idiot!”

“Well you certainly fooled me!”

“You’re just – so stubborn!” Jay was nearing the edge of the table now. “You ask for my help, and yet you can’t even fathom that I would know something you don’t!”

“Maybe I’d listen to you more if you weren’t so damn tiny! I’m taking orders from someone who can’t even walk up the stairs by herself!”

Jay’s eyes widened in shock. Oh, so that was it. Of course it was. How could she think it was anything else? Her heart was racing now, her stomach churning. How could she respond? Why did she ever think she could fight a giant?

“And you act like you’re so much better because you were best friends with him,” Stan sneered, placing particular mocking emphasis on that part. “He’s MY brother! MY family! He probably only talked to you because you’re – weird and small and he felt bad! You’re just a thing, an experiment for him to get all excited about! He never cared about you!”

Jay knew responding would be a bad idea, but her lips moved faster than her brain. “Oh yeah? He didn’t even want to think about you! I didn’t even know you existed until you showed up here! Maybe if you weren’t such a lazy freeloader, he would–”

It was at that moment her life flashed before her eyes.

[thatdeadaquarius]

I have recently come to the conclusion that if my Genshin Impact account was self aware, my Bennet would be slightly even more unlucky than a regular Bennet. This is due to my birthday and since its coming up I've been brainrotting for the past few days. Let me explain:

Bennet's birthday is February 29th, aka Leap Year. This means Benny only has a real birthday once every four years, which is bad enough. But according to canonical game lore, when he doesn't have his actual birthday, he celebrates it on the 28th.

My birthday is February 28th.

Now, I'd like to think that in your typical SAGAU the creator's birthday is a BIG DEAL. I'm talking festivals, parades, feasts, gifts exchanged between friends and family as well as gifts offered to the creator! The whole nine yards! An entire world partying from sunrise to moonset.

So with this in mind, Bennet's birthday would either be celebrated the day after the biggest holiday party in Teyvat (meaning everyone who attends would be all partied out) or during my birthday (meaning that everyone would be focused on ME instead of Bennet, which is just unfair! He can't even take pride in being born the same day as the creator b/c he was born the day after!!!!).

Anyway, if I was isekai'd to Genshin and worshipped as a god, I would simply give Bennet his own holiday. Poor kiddo deserves a win and if it takes me telling my acolytes quote, "Everyone will to celebrate Bennet's holiday. No exceptions, no excuses. And if his holiday party doesn't end up a success, I will destroy all of Teyvat and then myself. :3c" then so be it. That last statement is a joke, but watching everyone try their absolute hardest to give my adopted little brother the best birthday possible would be worth the fear of the vague threat of the world's destruction in the eyes of my worshipers me thinks.

If you add to this brainrot, please feel free to ignore that last part if everyone panicking over the possibility of apocalyptic destruction makes you uncomfortable. Likewise, don't rush this out by my birthday if you don't have time. I'm also in college and have multiple assignments due both before and after my birthday so I know this upcoming week will be hellish in terms of academics. So don't push yourself, okay?

So yeah. Thanks for reading! Hope you have a nice day!

JOKES ON YOU IM DOIN THIS FIRST BC ITS NEAR UR BIRTH WHEN I SAW THIS - HAHAHA (also timezones r wack so hope i timed it good enough for u lmao)

HOPE ALL UR ASSIGNMENTS VANISH / R SUPER EASY AND TAKE NO TIME AT ALL TO DO SO U HAVE MORE FREE TIME TO READ MY BIRTHDAY GIFT TO YOU ANON <3

Have a pretty miku hatsune gif <3

YEAH SO U ENTERED UR BDAY INTO GENSHIN U KNOW THAT RIGHT??

WELL SINCE THAT WAS THE BASICS OF THE GAME/AT THE START-

TEYVAT HAS KNOWN YOUR BIRTHDAY AS LONG AS LIFE HAS LIVED ON TEYVET LOL

◇

So if it's your birthday and you have been isekaied to Teyvat in time for it,

or been there for that long bc how does one un-isekai themselves?? anyway

and its like,, pandemonium.

bc idealistically u surprise these bitches around/close to ur birthday, so everyone's gettin in that festival mood and then BAM- itd be like if the spirits/demons showed up irl for Halloween randomly one year, like- ???!!!

so everyone's just

"well we usually have a lot of fun/praise the highest being anyway, hoping they'll hear us thru whatever barrier's between us (coughstupidcomputercough), but now... we've got to go harder than any century before guys, they're actually here, nobody panic, this isn't a drill- somebody fucking grab the champagne- "

◇

So for a second, imagine the sweetest anyone has ever been to you.

now imagine another person does something just as sweet for you, now add another, now add another, now add-

yeah i hope u got a hoddie so u can go to sweatertown when u get too embarassed/shy, bc the compliments??

"I really like your voice btw, this may sound strange but it was always so comforting pulling those all nighter for another akademiya project, and just hearing you joking around or humming, what felt like only for me or to keep me company ;) " - Lisa

"I hope you don't mind me doing this, as I wasn't trying to invade you privacy when I came upon this knowledge, but I thought it would make a useful gift. I know you were frustrated when you came here that there wasn't as much cosmetics so I used alchemy to aid your cause, this is some color changing nail polish-"

-Albedo has gotten u ur exact foundation shade, concealer, a skin clearing serum that works 100x better than any skincare routine u had going/or not lol, and if you dont really wear makeup or do skin care, he has a backup of all ur fav perfumes/colognes that u wish u had in ur old world (he heard u ranting abt wanting those scents/stuff u liked like cherries or sandalwood etc.)

◇

bc even if ur not the type to feel that way when ppl do things like that for u, i promise u will be by the end of your birthday week.

everyone in teyvat wants your first in person birthday to be perfect,

ESPECIALLY the allogenes, or the playable characters

doesn't even matter if your FTP and dont have a single character outside of the beginners,

(they all had access to things like your voice, your actions, your social media, yae miko may or may not have personally printed off enough copies of a book full of any selfies/pics with you in it to reach every corner of teyvat ahem, she means what- nothing at all my beautiful god-)

anyway that is to say, your birthday month is generally really bountiful, both in festivals and teyvat itself, regardless if its dead winter or scorching summer

◇

but for the sake of ANON'S BIRTHDAY-

You have now been forcibly converted into a Pisces - gasp - from this moment on,

ik tragic im an aquarius 😔,

Bc this is anon's Teyvat rn and we're just living in it

(genshincharactersaboutyoubelike-)

◇

You don't know which authority figure to thank first for helping organize your week so you can go to a different city's festival for you every day of your bday week, it must have been hell to make 💀

(rip ningguang alhaitham jean and ayaka/ayato yall will be missed 💧🙏)

U kind of worked ur way backwards actually from game release country's dates, like Sumeru, Inazuma, Liyue, Mondstadt

Bc when they asked if u had a preference u whole heartedly spoke up in front of a room full of arguably the most influential and powerful people on the continent, in the world really- well besides you-

"Mondstadt would be a great festival to have on my actual birthday! After all one of my best boys Bennett, also has his birthday that day too!" :)

...

.....somewhere in the Wolvendom wilds Bennett shivers with a bolt of anxiety,

Razor is confused and asks if he's ok, he gives a shaky thumbs up,

"yeah i just... got the scariest feeling.. like something bad's gonna happen on my birthday this week... haha probably nothing!... probably..."

◇

So everyone's been pretty chill and happy for Benny to be so favored/spoiled by you, esp since ur sharing ur bday (most ppl think ur a saint bc of this)

But for some pretentious assholes, who think traditions should be adhered to, they kinda dont even like the stuff ur changing-

"Oh well, if you don't just celebrate Benett's birthday with mine, and really anyone else who's bday is also mine, I'll just ruin your country ;) "

...

Some ppl get ur joking, like alhaitham would never believe u,

But these poor old fools, coughsagescough,

R just like-

"...an eldritch god is angry with us."

Needless to say u get ur way,

And poor Benny is just like, shaking in the corner, he can't tell if this is more unlucky or the luckiest he's been lol

(He's also one of the allogenes who did not rlly get ur joke lmao,,, also Itto💀)

◇

If your somehow not overhwhlemed by gifts and acts of service on ur birthday,

Benny is.

Benny is for you.

Lol, he's like gonna make himself sick bc he cant just say "No thanks" to all the ppl giving you food, but end up giving him some too by proxy

He cant even count how many candies and baked goods are weighing down his pockets

Oh did i mention you've just like, linked arms with the little guy and dragged him wherever Mond's citizens r dragging you for the birthday festivities :)

◇

While he was mostly just in shock all day, Benny does take the time to tear up and thank you for sharing your birthday*

(*both of your birthdays, u correct him all day)

Jean, Barabra, Diluc, Kaeya, Amber, Traveler, Razor Sucrose Fischl and Klee (and Varka + older adventurers/his dads)

are all super happy to finally see the poor kid get the biggest break ever for his birthday finally

Esp after they saw the last few... yknow... non-existant ones... bc he only has a bday every 4 years lol

◇

Nearly starts sobbing publicly when u give him a present for his bday too :')

And after you all do a big toast for an evening bday dinner, u hug him and he actually cries a little, and he squeezes u back super hard

"I always thought I was too unlucky to get a birthday like this, but I guess if even a god like you hasn't given up on me, I shouldn't give up on me either, thank you for the best birthday I've ever had Your Majesty!"

:')

♡

(Tho Klee did sneakily give u and him some of her best and brightest bombs as a bday gift, so he did get a little singed but he barely noticed lmao)

♡

I hope my ass writing/ideas was a decent bday gift anon! :0

I love Pisces sm, i hope ur bday was/will be incredible anon!! :) <33

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 49

Things change in Jackson but the most important things stay the same. The final chapter of Lavender, found in its entirety on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut! No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 7.3k

Sunday, October, 4, 2026

“Hey Joel!” Suzanne, a woman who worked at the clinic with you, ran up to him as he made his way home after an overnight patrol. “Do you know where Doc is?” 

“Think all my girls are at home,” he frowned a little. “Not sure, haven’t been there yet since gettin’ back but I’m heading there now… Everything OK?” 

“Think we’ve got an appendicitis,” she winced as she said it. “If she’s home, can you send her our way? Save me the trouble of going to look at your place.” 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Joel said. “I’ll see if I can track her down if she’s not there but it’s Sylvie’s nap time so can’t imagine she’d go far…” 

Suzanne smiled gratefully and ran back into the clinic, her ponytail swinging. 

Joel was eager to get home to you under any circumstance but even more so after doing an overnight patrol. He’d been away from you too long. He never slept well on patrol, never slept well if he was somewhere he couldn’t touch you, feel you breathing next to him. Whenever he got back, he usually spent five minutes just holding onto you, centering himself on you and the feeling of you in his arms again. But now you’d be running out the door right away. Even though he knew appendectomies were relatively easy and that you’d only be gone a few hours at the most, it was hard to not be a little frustrated by it. 

“Hey Love,” you smiled when he came in, stretched out on the couch with a ribbon tied like a headband in your hair and his daughter asleep on your chest. “Didn’t want to risk moving her, both of your kids have been in rare form today…” 

Sylvie, now 18 months old, shifted ever so slightly on her mother’s chest, her little features drawn in for a second - as if to prove a point - before relaxing. Her hair was getting long, her thick, dark curls a clone of her father. Her eyes were, too, when they were open. Joel knew them well. It seemed like he’d done nothing but stare at her for months after she was born, the combination of you and him something too beautiful to look away from. 

It sometimes felt to Joel that there was some part of the universe that always wanted your child to exist. You got pregnant so fast. He couldn’t be sure but the timing of the day at the lake made sense, like the only thing stopping the creation of you and him together was the power of modern medicine. The moment there was nothing preventing it she sprang into being, all but inevitable. 

Joel was surprised at just how much he loved seeing you pregnant. It hadn’t been something that he’d ever considered before now, not something he’d ever been drawn to before now. But looking at you, knowing you were growing his child, knowing your body was changing because of him somehow made you even more beautiful. 

Lucky for him, your hormones made you practically insatiable - not that you’d ever had a low sex drive. But it went from sex most nights to sex every night, often twice, and once again in the morning if you woke up with enough time before needing to get yourselves or Ellie out the door. He loved finding new places on you to touch and hold, loved kissing your stomach over where you were growing his daughter, loved holding your swollen breasts as he sank into your tight heat from behind, always cumming deep inside you because it’s not like he could make you any more pregnant. 

It took everything he had in him to not try to get you pregnant again. You’d told him, flat out, no. The pregnancy hadn’t been rough but it hadn’t been easy, either. You were tired but had a hard time sleeping, sensitive to all kinds of sights and smells, throwing up more days than you didn’t. It was easier, you said, than your first pregnancy, the one that was lost. But you were 20 years older now, everything was harder on your body now than it was then and the last thing he wanted to do was cause you any pain. 

But seeing you be a mother to his children had a tight hold on him. Every time he was inside you he had to fight the urge to plant himself deep, resist the drive to give you another child of his to grow and raise with him. Logic didn’t matter when he was inside of you, all that mattered was you and the primal need to give you as much of him as you would take. 

“Both of ‘em, huh?” He asked, coming over and pressing a deep kiss to your forehead and stroking your hair before sitting on the edge of the coffee table. 

“Yup,” you smiled a little. “Sylvie has not been on board with eating anything but she’s been crying half the day because she’s hungry. Ellie got home about an hour ago and didn’t say a word before stomping upstairs. So yes, your daughters have been in a mood today.” 

“Why are they my daughters when they’re actin’ up?” He asked, gently resting a hand on Sylvie’s back, feeling her little chest rise and fall with her sleepy breaths. 

“Because that’s when they take after you most,” you smirked a little. “When they’re angels who have never done a damn thing wrong, they’re mine.” 

He laughed once and went to scoop Sylvie off your chest and getting to his feet. You frowned. 

“I’ve got this little troublemaker since she’s apparently mine today,” he said, his youngest daughter stirring and scrunching her face as she yawned, her plump lips immediately falling into a pout. She buried her face into Joel’s neck with a little whine. “And I’ll go up and check on the other one. They need you at the clinic, appendicitis.”

“In that case, I leave you to be the outnumbered one,” you said, getting up and stretching out your back as you did. Joel took a second to admire you, the added thickness to your hips and legs and softness to your stomach and fullness to your breasts after carrying his daughter somehow making you even more lovely. Before, he didn’t think you could get anymore beautiful. Of course you’d find a way to prove him wrong. You reached up to kiss him, smiling against his lips before brushing Sylvie’s hair back. “Think you can behave yourself for your father since I’m sure he’s tired and hungry after a long day out patrolling?” 

She groaned and pushed her little face into his shoulder. He laughed. 

“Not like I haven’t dealt with moody girls before,” he said. His heart, he found, hurt less when he thought of Sarah now. The fact that she wasn’t there was still something that was missing. An emptiness and an ache of loss where he knew there should only be fullness and light. But he saw so much of her in Ellie and Sylvie and you. It made it so he could think about her, remember her, without it consuming him. He could miss her and remember her without suffering her loss. “I’ve got this Baby, go save a life.” 

You kissed his daughter’s chubby little hand and gave his arm a squeeze before leaving. He looked at Sylvie, her face still in his shoulder. 

“Alright Baby Girl,” he said. “We’re gonna try puttin’ you down for 10 minutes so I can talk to your sister, let’s see how that goes…” 

He carried her upstairs and set her gently in her crib. She stretched and yawned and pouted, her eyes closed - lashes so long they were splayed across her plump cheek - until Joel tucked a rag doll Ellie’d made her into her little grasp. She tugged it against herself and settled a bit and Joel all but tiptoed out of her room and down the hall to Ellie’s. He knocked gently on the door. 

“What.” Her voice was sharp. 

“It’s me,” he said. “Wonderin’ if you wanted to talk about somethin’.” 

“No.” 

He waited a second. 

“Can I come in?” He asked. 

“Your house.” 

He sighed. Why were teenagers so hard? He opened the door slowly and found her curled up on the bed, her eyes red and her arms crossed, her back to the mural. 

“What’s goin’ on, Baby Girl?” He asked gently, coming and sitting beside her on the bed. 

“I said I didn’t want to talk,” she snapped. “And I really don’t want to talk with you.” 

“Well, I’m who ya got,” he shrugged. “So I’d like it if you did. Want to help you if I can.” 

“You can’t help,” she glared at him. “You’ve done plenty.” 

“Wish you’d tell me what you mean,” he frowned. “I’m at a loss here, Baby Girl.” 

She sat up, crossing her legs and looking him in the eye. 

“There’d be a cure right now if it wasn’t for you, wouldn’t there.” She didn’t ask it, she said it. A statement of fact. Joel’s stomach dropped. 

“Where’d you get that idea?” He asked. 

“That’s not an answer, Joel. Would there be a cure if it wasn’t for you?” 

He sighed. 

“Let’s talk about this when your mother…” 

“No,” she shook her head. “No, she’s not my mom and you’re not my dad. You’re just some assholes who took away the one chance I had to make a fucking difference!” 

That hurt, more than he’d have thought it would. It’s not like Ellie called you Mom and him Dad but it felt like she thought of him the way he thought of her. You’d both tried to help her see how important she was, how much she mattered, what a difference she made to the people around her every day. It hadn’t seemed to stick.

“This about Lucas?” He asked softly. She glared at him but he took that for a yes. 

Her friend, Lucas, had been killed out on patrol a month earlier. Ripped apart by infected. It was tragic, the first loss on patrol in years. Lucas had been competent and likely kept the carnage from being worse, holding off a hoard long enough to get his patrol partners out alive.  Ellie had been distant and sullen a lot since then. 

You’d talked to Joel about it and the both of you figured she was mourning the loss of her friend. Neither of you thought it would be something like this. 

“Baby Girl,” he said gently. “Why don’t we talk about this when Doc gets home? You can ask us whatever you want, we’ll answer you. OK?” 

“Why, want to wait to get your stories straight?” She snapped. 

“Not gonna lie to you,” he said. “We’ll tell you whatever you want. But she needs to be here for it, too. Not right for it to just be you’n me, OK?” 

“Fine,” she snapped, curling up again. Sylvie started fussing in her room. He sighed and she just looked at him. “Go, I’m not allowed to talk to you until Doc’s here, anyway.” 

He fought the urge to fight her on it and went and picked up his youngest daughter, instead.

You’d been right about Sylvie. She wasn’t in the mood for eating anything but kept giving her hungry cry, wailing too much to actually form words, instead toddling around inconsolably. Eventually, he broke into a jar of canned peaches and handed her a sticky slice, the syrupy juice from the jar dripping down her hands. She chewed it, hiccuping, her tear-streaked little face calming. 

“You just wanted sugar,” he shook his head, smiling a little. “Should’ve known.” 

He found himself glancing at the clock every few minutes, waiting for time to pass, waiting for you to get home. For the first time, he was almost dreading it. Because the conversation with Ellie had the potential to ruin everything. He wouldn’t know how to fix it if she hated him for it. Wouldn’t know what to do if she decided to leave because of it. You’d tried to tell him that you had to explain it when it happened but he’d convinced you to do what he thought was the right thing to do. He’d convinced you to all but lie. 

If Ellie left because of it, would you leave, too? To stay with her? She would know it was Joel who wanted to hide it, she was anything but stupid. If she levied an ultimatum, would you leave him and take Sylvie with you? Would he deserve it if you did? 

All things considered, you weren’t gone long, home well before you’d either start cooking or head over to the mess hall for dinner. He met you at the door, Sylvie on his hip. 

“Hey,” you smiled, making your eyes go extra wide to get a little giggle out of your daughter. “She looks happier, I’m guessing you got her to eat something?” 

“Broke into some of the canned peaches,” he said as you put your arms around him and Sylvie, stretching up for a kiss. 

“Well if it works,” you said before you frowned. “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong…” 

“Ellie wants to talk,” he said, holding you a little closer. “About Salt Lake City.” 

You winced. 

“Shit,” you dropped your forehead to his chest and took a deep breath. “Well, we knew it was coming eventually. Think Tommy can take Sylvie for the night so we can hash this all out and make sure we’re focused on Ellie?” 

“Good plan,” he kissed the crown of your head and gave you a squeeze, some of his anxieties eased. You were here. Somehow, it was going to be OK. 

Tommy, thankfully, was fine to take Sylvie and didn’t ask many questions after he saw the look on Joel’s face. Instead, he took his niece inside to play with Jake, his son, and Joel came home to find you and Ellie on the couch. You’d made tea and Ellie was rapping her fingers against the side of her chipped mug. She narrowed her eyes at Joel when he came in, her small body tucked into the corner of the couch, her legs crossed in front of her. Joel sat in the arm chair near your end of the couch. He couldn’t settle back into it. Instead, he sat on the edge of it, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. 

“OK Baby Girl,” he sighed, looking at her. “What do you want to know.” 

“What happened?” She asked, staring him down. “With the Fireflies. What actually happened. You’ve never told me the truth about it but I need to know now. I can’t keep living with you fucking lying to me about it!” 

“OK,” you said gently. “It’s OK…” 

“No, it’s not OK,” she snapped. “And I’m tired of pretending like it is!” 

“They were gonna kill you, Baby Girl,” Joel said, struggling to speak past the lump in his throat, the tightness in his chest. 

“What?” Her eyes were a little wide. “No, Marlene said…” 

“Marlene lied,” you said, your voice sharper than Joel was used to hearing. “Their doctor was purposely vague with me because he knew I wouldn’t go along with his plan…” 

“What was the plan?” Ellie asked. “What did they need that would kill me?” 

“Your brain,” Joel said. It hurt him to even think about it, to think back to those horrific minutes where he wasn’t sure if he’d get to her in time, where he thought he might have lost her forever. “They needed the Cordyceps that have been in you since you were born and they grow inside your brain…” 

“You should have let them!” She cut him off, her eyes wide and teary. “Why would you stop them?” 

“Ellie…” he began but she smacked her mug down on the coffee table with a loud thud. 

“This was my one chance!” She looked between the two of you. “I could have actually done something! Been something, made a difference! My life would have mattered!” 

“Your life matters just the way it is,” you said, tears in your eyes. “Ellie, you and Sylvie are the most important things in the world to us, nothing could matter more than you…” 

“What about every other person in the fucking world?” She demanded. “What about…”

“The science was flawed,” you cut her off. “You were the only sample, to even test it would have killed you. Do you know how rarely something works right the first time in science? Basically never. Do you know how many combinations of things I had to try before my treatment worked in testing? Thousands, Ellie. They were going to kill you on the off chance he had it right and then when it didn’t work, what would be the point? That you got to die a noble death? That we lost you for nothing? 

“I had notes from the treatment I developed and he wanted to wait to try anything with it until after he took the cordyceps from you,” you pressed on. “He could have said stop. He could have decided to exhaust every other option first and he didn’t. He was convinced he was right and that’s not a good way to conduct science, I couldn’t trust him to do this right. The other option wasn’t for you to save the world Ellie, not really. Yes, maybe it would have gotten there eventually but it was so far from a certain thing.” 

“But…” she protested. 

“You’re not a parent,” Joel said gently. “But would you have let them kill me or her for that? Or Sylvie? Would you have let them kill your little sister for somethin’ like that?” 

Ellie just stared at her lap. 

“So what happened?” She asked, her voice thick. “You said the place was attacked but it wasn’t, was it?” 

Joel looked at you and you reached out your hand for him. He took it, holding onto you for dear life. 

“They weren’t goin’ to listen, Baby Girl,” he said. “I did what I had to do to keep you safe.” 

She nodded slowly. 

“And that’s how Doc got shot,” she stated it again. “They were trying to protect themselves from you.” 

“Yeah,” he said, your hand still tight in his own.

“How many people?” She asked quietly, looking up at the two of you. “How many people died there?” 

He clenched his jaw for a moment before he was able to meet her eyes. 

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I… I was so focused on gettin’ you out, I just did whatever I had to do.” 

“So you killed all those people,” she said. “Brought me here… and Doc, you just gave up? You never tried to do anything with all that shit you did? You just let people keep turning?” 

“Ellie…” you went to reach for her but she flinched back. 

“I can’t…” she shook her head. “I need to think… I’m going to stay with Dina for a bit.” 

She got up and Joel did, too. 

“Baby Girl,” he said but she shook her head. 

“Lucas might still be alive if she’d just done something,” Ellie shook her head. “But she didn’t. Neither one of you did. And it’s all fucking because of me.” 

She left and you were staring at the spot on the couch where she’d been. 

“Baby,” he said cautiously. He didn’t like the look on your face. “I’ll go after her…” 

“No,” you shook your head and wiped your eyes. “No, let her go. She deserves some space from me.” 

You got up and went for the stairs. 

“Baby…” 

“I’m going to shower,” you said. 

He watched you go, wishing he could find some way to fix it. 

*** 

Tuesday, May 11, 2027 

“Don’t like this,” Joel stood next to you, holding Sylvie, frowning. “It’s too dangerous…” 

“I’ll be fine,” you put your palm in the middle of his chest and kissed him. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 

He pulled you tight against him, his lips in your hair. 

“Mama,” Sylvie grabbed your braid. “Can I go on the horsie?” 

You smiled and brushed your daughter’s hair back. She looked so much like her father it made your heart ache. 

“Not this time, Baby Girl,” you smiled. “But soon. Promise.” 

“You ready?” Tommy rode up along side your horse. 

“As I’ll ever be,” you gave him a tight smile before kissing Sylvie one more time and giving Joel a longing look. “I’ll be back soon. I will.” 

“You’re not back by Labor Day I’ll come get you back,” he said, voice dark. “Make sure they fuckin’ know it.” 

He kissed your forehead and you mounted your horse, heading with Tommy outside Jackson. 

The day after Ellie left was your birthday and it was the worst it had been in years. You stayed in bed most of the day, Joel just holding you. 

“She’s right,” you said as the sun went down, your husband’s fingers tracing up and down your arm. “I should have done something with it, I’ve just been letting people die by not doing something with it…” 

Joel tried to talk you out of it but you were determined then. You pulled Tommy aside and talked him into tracking down old Firefly contacts he had, seeing if he could find Dr. Anderson. After making some carefully placed radio calls over a span of months - much to Maria’s chagrin - he found him, at a hospital in Boise. 

“You’re not goin’,” Joel paced your kitchen, his arms crossed. “I don’t give a shit if you can save everyone on the goddamn planet, you’re not goin’.” 

“Yes, I am,” you said, sitting at the table, voice calm. “I respect your opinion but you don’t get to make this decision for me.” 

“What if somethin’ happens to you?” He asked, stopping in front of you. “You’re talkin’ about meetin’ up with a bunch of fuckin’ terrorists who already damn near killed you…” 

“They need what’s in my head,” you said. “They won’t kill me.” 

He knelt in front of you, almost the exact place he’d been when he’d proposed years earlier, and took your face in his hands, holding you gently. 

“I can’t do this without you, Baby,” he said, his deep brown eyes soft and scared. “Don’t ask me to try’n live without you, I don’t want it…” 

“I can’t live with myself if I don’t try,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. “Please, Joel. I have to do this. I have to.” 

He made it obvious that he wasn’t a fan of the idea but he agreed to it, staying behind to take care of Sylvie and keep an eye on Ellie, who had started coming around again, more to see Joel than anything else. You hadn’t told her you were leaving or why. You didn’t want to get her hopes up in case something fell through or have her feel responsible for you choosing to go if something happened to you out there. But you left a note to her, Sylvie and Joel, just in case you didn’t make it home. Just to be safe. 

“Been a while since just you’n me got into trouble,” Tommy said as the gates closed behind you. “Should be fun.” 

“Whatever you say, Tommy the Commie,” you smirked. 

“Jesus,” he sighed. “Been how long and you’re still on that? Gotta get a new schtick, Kid.” 

You laughed. At least you got to go on this damned trip with one of your best friends.

The ride to Boise was uneventful and you made it in just five days. The Fireflies were about as happy to see you as you were to see them, holding the two of you at gunpoint as you rode up to the city. Tommy looked about as happy about it as Joel would be. 

“Dr. Miller,” Dr. Anderson said when you came to the hospital, giving you a stiff nod. “Can’t say I ever thought I’d see you again.” 

“Feeling’s mutual,” you said, standing up as straight as you could, jaw squared. “You tried to kill my daughter.” 

“And you kept me from saving the world for mine,” he said. “So I think we’re even.” 

The two of you struck up an uneasy working relationship, Tommy hovering like a body guard for the first week you were there but apparently trusting the Fireflies enough to not kill you for at least a few hours at a time. 

You’d brought some vials of Ellie’s blood with you, taken by one of the nurses at the clinic under the guise of running a few standard tests when she was sick with the flu weeks before. It took some time, but you were able to narrow down what you thought at least stopped the progression of cordyceps in her, even if it wouldn’t go as far as making someone immune. By late July, you’d developed an emergency injectable you thought would work to halt the progress of the cordyceps. Dr. Anderson distributed it to the Fireflies who were most likely to encounter infected. Then, it was a waiting game. 

It took three weeks to discover that it worked. A patrol was overwhelmed by infected and one man was bitten. They used the injectable at the bite and the spread stopped. He was rushed back to you and Dr. Anderson, where the two of you carefully extracted the cordyceps from his arm. 

“It’s not a cure,” you said after the man had been monitored for four days with no sign of infection. “But we can stop new infections.” 

“That’s a whole hell of a lot,” he nodded. “We can synthesize it, spread it. It’ll take a while but it’s a start. A start to getting our world back.” 

You were excited, of course. Thrilled that your idea had worked, that you’d been able to help begin to stop the suffering caused by infected. But mostly, you wanted to get home. You missed Joel, you missed Sylvie, you missed Ellie. You missed your life with them. You and Tommy left for Jackson the next day. 

The ride back to Jackson felt longer than the ride to Boise. Maybe it was because you were so ready to get home and because your husband and daughters felt so close but so far. By the time you got back, you all but jumped off your horse at the stables and ran home. 

“Joel?” You called as you pulled open the front door. You heard something clatter to the sink in the kitchen and he appeared in the doorway. 

“Baby,” he ran and grabbed you, clutching you close to him, almost knocking the air out of you. “Fuck, I’ve been so worried, I’ve missed you so much…” 

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears as he held you to him, kissing every part of you he could reach. 

“I missed you,” you held onto him, your fingers in his hair. “But we did it, Joel. We made something that can stop infection…” 

“I’m so proud of you,” he pulled back from you enough that he could kiss you. “But I care much more about you bein’ back than anything about infected…” 

You laughed at that. He went and got Sylvie from her seat in the kitchen, where she’d been coloring. 

“Mama!” She started squirming when she saw you, stretching and reaching. 

“Hi Baby Girl!” You took her from her father and tried to keep from crying. She was bigger now than you remembered, her hair longer. You held her to you and breathed her in, Joel pulling you both against him. 

“They didn’t have…” Ellie said, coming in the front door. You twisted to see her and you heard something clatter to the floor. “Mom!” 

She hurled herself at you, holding onto you tightly. 

“I’m so sorry,” she was crying. “I didn’t…” 

“No, Baby Girl,” you wrapped the arm not holding Sylvie around her and kissed her temple. “You were right, I should have done something with this so much sooner…” 

“I’m just so glad you’re back,” she said, burying her face in your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have said that shit, I’m so sorry…” 

“Just keep calling me Mom and you can say just about anything else you want,” you said, voice wet. She laughed. “I love you, Ellie. So much.”

“Love you, too.” 

October 5, 2029

The first time you heard a plane overhead, you instinctively ducked. The last time you’d heard that sound was the day of the outbreak, almost 25 years earlier, and a plane had almost come down on your head. 

You were walking home from the clinic and you ran the rest of the way to your house. 

“Joel!” You yelled the second you were in the door, but you didn’t have to go far to find him. He was sitting on the floor of your living room, playing with Sylvie. 

“Baby?” He frowned, a doll in his large hands as Sylvie held the bottle and sat on his lap. “What’s goin’ on, everything OK?” 

“There was a plane,” you said, breathless, eyes wide. “Overhead, outside. There’s a plane.” 

“A plane?” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re sure?” 

“Damn sure,” you said and then you laughed a little. “People are flying again. There was a fucking plane.” 

That was when you got your idea. It was probably a damned stupid idea but it was an idea. 

Maria and the rest of the council had been getting regular updates from the outside world since the drug had started being distributed. Things were changing, quickly. 

Now that traveling was safer, people started moving a bit more freely. Caravans started first, then train lines opened. It didn’t take long for FEDRA to fall and be replaced with a government more closely resembling the former United States. 

Now that there were planes running again, you imagined that meant things were stabilizing. And if things were stable - if people could travel across the country - maybe you could do the one thing you’d wanted to do since coming to Jackson: See if Andrew and Jess would join you. 

You missed them and Elizabeth and Jonah fiercely. They were still young enough that they could have a childhood here, that they could learn and grow and lead something close to a normal life here. 

Talking Maria and the council into it had been surprisingly simple. Jess’ psychology training would be a boon, adding more children to the community was welcome. And you got the impression that, after five years of treating the people here at the clinic, they wanted to do something for you. There was a train line that ran to Salt Lake City from Boston, and you radioed Andrew for the first time in almost five years. 

“Holy shit!” He said when Abe got him and put him on the line. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again, I have so much to tell you…” 

“I have a lot to tell you, too,” you said, trying not to cry at the sound of his voice. “But I wanted to ask… How attached are you and Jess to Boston? Feel like hopping on a train west and starting over? I promise, where I live? It’s worth it.” 

They came out a few months later and you were there, back in Salt Lake City with Joel and extra horses, meeting them. It was the second time you’d been reunited with someone you loved on your birthday. 

You recognized Elizabeth immediately as she jumped out of the carriage first, even though she was far taller now than she had been the last time you saw her. You had to stop yourself from crying. Jonah was next, then Jess, then Andrew. 

“Hey!” You started running for them. Andrew saw you then, dropping his pack and running for you, the two of you slamming into each other so hard you were sure Joel heard the thud. 

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he said as you clung to him. “Holy shit I missed you…” 

“I missed you, too,” you said, choked up. “So much has happened and I kept wanting to tell you fucking everything and I couldn’t and it sucked!” 

“Me too,” he laughed. “Me too.” 

It took you five days to make it back to Jackson, giving you plenty of time to catch up. Things got worse in Boston after you left. FEDRA’s grip tightened, life becoming more and more locked down. Andrew and Jess did everything they could for their children, trying to give them a normal life but there was only so much they could really do for them. They’d been looking for a place to go when you’d radioed. 

Andrew wasn’t shocked that you and Joel had ended up together. He was a little more surprised that you’d had a baby, though. 

“I’m so happy for you,” he said, looking a little teary. “You deserve it. You have for so long but I’m so glad you finally got what you wanted.” 

The house behind yours in Jackson was open and they moved in there. After giving them a few days to settle in, you invited them over for dinner and game night with the kids. There were so many people, your kitchen table had never seemed quite so small. You loved it. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you said, hugging Andrew goodbye as his family left for the short walk back home. 

“Me too,” he said. “The codependency squad is back in the same place and all is right with the world.” 

You laughed and the two of you watched as Lizzy twirled with Sylvie on your back deck, Ellie playing guitar perched on the steps, Jonah watching her, enraptured. Joel put his arm around your shoulders and you leaned your head against him as Jess slipped her hand into her husband’s. 

“See you around?” He asked. 

“Don’t think you’ve got another choice,” you smiled. 

Sylvie went down easy that night, worn out from playing with her newfound cousins. You could still hear the quiet chords as Ellie practiced guitar in her room.

“Night Ellie,” you called as you went to close your bedroom door. “Don’t stay up too late, guitar down soon.” 

“I’ll take it easy,” she called back. “Night Mom, night Dad.” 

“Can’t say I ever thought I’d be hosting a game night for anyone,” Joel said as you both climbed in bed and turned out the light. 

You laughed. 

“Me either,” you said. “Crazy what five years can do.” 

You snuggled up against him and he put his arm around you, kissing your cheek, working his way down to your jaw and then to your mouth. 

“What do you think you’re doing there, Mr. Miller?” You teased, your arm going around his waist. He was softer and thicker there now, but you liked it. A sign of the fact that he wasn’t struggling anymore, proof that he was still here to grow old with you, raise your daughters with you. 

“Gettin’ my hopes up, Mrs. Miller,” he said, voice low as his hand slipped below your tank top and found your breast, holding you gently, his thumb brushing your nipple. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down,” you smiled against his mouth and he pressed you closer. 

You hooked a leg over his hip and ground your aching core against his already hard length. It didn’t seem to matter that you were 50 years old now, that you’d first slept with him almost 30 years before, that he was there in your bed every night, you always seemed to want him and he always seemed to want you. 

He slipped the straps of your tank top down and off, tugging the fabric to the top of your shorts before kissing down your throat to your bare chest. He kissed along the curve of you there, his lips and tongue and teeth brushing along the tender flesh until he sucked your nipple into his mouth and moaned around you, teasing you with his tongue. You groaned and instinctively rocked your hips against nothing, already desperate and needy for him. He moved to your other breast, giving in the same treatment as he held the first one in his large hand, gently rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and finger.  

“Joel,” you breathed, arching your back into him. 

“Someone sounds needy,” he breathed, pressing his lips to your sternum and kissing down your stomach - still soft from when you’d carried Sylvie years before. Joel had never seemed to mind. 

“I am,” you groaned as he tugged down your shorts and panties, taking the tank top with them, leaving you naked before him. “Fuck, I need you…” 

“Can’t let you go unsatisfied now, can we?” He asked, spreading your legs and settling between them. He put your thighs over his shoulders and he teased his tongue along your seam, curling it around your already swollen clit. He hummed in approval. 

“Taste fuckin’ delicious,” he said, licking you again. “Can’t believe this pussy is all mine…” 

“All yours, Joel,” you groaned as he pressed his tongue into your aching entrance, making you gasp. 

He ate you gently at first, his lips and tongue working with his fingers as they softly toyed with your clit. But your husband knew your body well, maybe better than you, and the second he could feel you starting to tighten around him, he was harsher, more eager. His beard scratched against your sensitive skin as he pressed his tongue deep, his nose against your clit as he swallowed up your wetness, two of his fingers hooking inside of you so that they plunged deep as his tongue pulled back, one always replacing the other so you got the delicious friction and push and pull without ever feeling empty. 

“Joel,” you panted, your fingers winding in his hair, your hips rocking against his face. You felt the edges of his mouth pull up but he didn’t slow his pace, not even as you exploded around him, your grip on his hair tightening. He ate at you until your orgasm eased and you were left, pliant and gasping for breath, below him. 

“That’s my girl,” he said, crawling up your body and wiping your slick on the back of his hand before he settled himself between your thighs. His thick, heavy length brushed against your dripping sex and he kissed you, tasting like toothpaste and your own cum. You looped your arms around his neck as he pressed just the head of himself into you, the stretch at your entrance delicious enough to make your back arch into him. 

“I want you,” you breathed when he pulled back from your lips enough for you to speak. “Please…” 

“Past wanting you,” he said, sliding himself into you inch by devastating inch. “Past needing you, too. Don’t think there’s a word for how much I want and need you, Baby…” 

You whimpered below him as he sank into your body until he was fully within you, your channel feeling so full and stretched but so damn satisfied. 

“Belong inside of you,” he leaned down to kiss your throat. “Made to be inside you…” 

You wanted to say something back but could only moan as he started to move inside you, his thick cock dragging along your inner walls, his head catching on every ridge of you as he worked his length within you. 

He started out faster and harder, your nails digging into his back, the air getting knocked out of you in little gasps with every snap of his hips. Your second orgasm was building fast and, when you began to tighten around him, he pressed as deep as he could reach, slowing is pace so you could feel every exquisite movement. 

“You’re gettin’ close,” he panted, hips moving slow and steady, pressing yours down into the bed so firmly you wondered if you were going to have a bruise in the morning. You didn’t care. “Can feel it, you always get so goddamn tight right before, Baby, love feelin’ you like this…” 

“Can’t help it,” you were keening below him, doing everything you could to take him deep. “You feel too good, Joel I can’t…” 

“Cum for me,” his whole body was covering yours, every inch of him against or within you. “Need to feel you, Baby, need to feel this pussy - my pussy - cum on me…” 

“Fuck!” You gasped as your walls fluttered around you and he let out a strangled moan as he fucked you through your orgasm. 

“That’s it, Baby,” he sounded almost choked up, straining to hold off his own orgasm for another minute. “Doing so good for me, takin’ me so well, feelin’ so goddamn good…” 

Your orgasm faded and he all put ripped himself from your body before pressing his cock head against your clit and spilling his seed over you there, his warm cum making your oversensitive, wrung-out nub throb. 

“Fuck Baby,” he collapsed next to you for a moment before he reached into his bedside table and grabbed a clean washcloth, reaching between your legs to wipe away the combination of his spend and your slick. “How are you always that fuckin’ incredible?” 

“If you were made for me then I was made for you,” you said, still catching your breath as you rolled to wrap around him. He pulled your naked body tightly to his own and dropped the washcloth on his nightstand, next to the candle you’d made the year before. It was lavender scented, made with oils taken from the plants you’d grown in your back yard. They came from the buds you’d taken from Bill and Frank’s when you first headed west. You’d made several of the candles, liking the fact that the smell helped reduce stress and anxiety. You, Joel and Ellie had seen enough of that in your lives.

Your mind drifted as you lay in your husband’s arms. You drifted through the past 30 years of your lives, the pain of deep loss, the profound connection to the people you’d come to love, the life you’d built with Joel in Jackson. You thought of your daughters that were here with you and the daughters you lost - Sarah and your unborn child. You’d started picturing her as a girl, always a girl. Joel, you were certain, was built for raising incredible girls. He’d done it with Sarah and now he was doing it with Ellie and Sylvie, too. He’d have done that with the baby you lost, too. You could feel it. That feeling hurt less now with Joel beside you.

You thought of Joel playing guitar in your living room, next to the pictures of Sarah and Tess and a sketch you’d made of Ellie and Sylvie. You thought of the way he called you and Ellie and Sylvie “his girls” as though you were everything that mattered to him. You thought of the way that, even as he’d fought to push you away for so long, you kept finding each other again and again because there was something inside of you both that was always reaching for the other. You were made for him and he was made for you. Of that, you were certain. 

His lips found the top of your head, his hands splayed wide over your back as he held onto you. 

“Love you, Baby,” he whispered in the dark. “More than anything. Always have, always will.” 

“Always love you, Joel,” you whispered back. “Until the day I die.” 

You drifted off to sleep in his arms, in your home with the family you’d built with the man you were always meant to find. He was yours, you were his and you were happy.

A/N: I can't believe it's over! I sincerely hope you are happy with where Joel, Doc and Ellie wound up in Jackson. They're finally all at a point where they can do more than survive, they can thrive together, just like they were always meant to.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you times a million for reading this story. Your kindness, love and support have meant so much as I've written this piece. I don't think it's possible to thank you enough for that, so I'll just say it again: Thank you.

If you've ever liked a chapter, commented, reblogged, anything at all, please know that I appreciate you. Every notification I got on this fic made me smile. You helped make this journey an absolute joy.

I did start a new fic, called Yearling. It's another TLOU Joel fic and you can find it here.

I'm not great at goodbyes so I'll just say this: See you around. I hope you'll join me on another adventure one day. Until then, take care of yourselves, spread some kindness and share love when you can. I love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy@pedritosdarling@winchestergypsy90@imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11 @maknimuk1@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@pedrosaidsheispunk@commanderawkward@n7cje@elliesgirlll@tsunamistorm123@spookyxsam@leeeesahhh @anoverwhelmingdin @untamedheart81 @pedropascalfan221 @pedr0swh0r3 @pedrobae@fifia-writes@fatima-marisa @acf2023 @1soff@encephalitiskat @ashleymsnodgrass @karlinspace

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 6- Your Boys

Summary: Easy Company is in the Ardennes Forest, outside of Bastogne, Belgium, trying to defend the Allied line against a German counterattack. You all face a bitter winter with insufficient ammunition, food, and medical supplies for the long, grueling battle. Historically known as the Battle of the Bulge, you rush soldier to soldier assisting Doc Roe treating the wounded during the peak of the attacks. Liebgott experiences his first real scare, almost losing you when you’re injured ignoring a direct order. 

A/N: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Mentions of death, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, German to English Translation, Descriptive Wounds/Injuries, Blood/Gore, Smoking, Banter, Pining, Consensual Physical Contact/PDA, FOREVER FLUFF 💚

German is identified with (g)

This chapter continues from 1x5 Crossroads then transitions into 1x6 Bastogne

While writing this, I ended up gravitating more towards the reader’s platonic relationships with the other soldiers of Easy.

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~ 

October 1944 

You bury your face into Joe’s chest, both of your hands fisting the front of his uniform taking deep breaths as you fight tears back. Joe’s arms embrace you pinning your body against his as he rests his cheek on your head. Your breathing syncs with his while you listen to his bounding heartbeat, his hands caressing your back sending chills through your entire nervous system. 

Your mind is a void. Nothing is there or around you except you and Joe. You stand there holding eachother for what seemed like hours. With his cheek, Joe nudged the side of your head still hiding in his shirt. You raise your eyes to his as a few tears cascade down your cheeks. He smiles at you, gently kisses your forehead pulling you back in to hold you again. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent, then exhale. 

“Joe...”  

“Yeah?”  

“What happens now?” you ask. 

You each slightly pull away to look at eachother. 

“Whaddya mean?” he questioned. 

“This makes everything so much harder.”  

“How?” Joe asked, tilting his head to the side inquisitively. 

“I don’t know about you, but if anything happens to you-” you trailed off at the horrible thought of ever losing him, “I-I don’t know what I’d do...” you struggled to say without more tears streaming from your eyes. 

Joe cupped your face bringing his face level with yours. 

“Look at me, we’re gettin’ through this shit together. You understand me?” 

You nod, “Mmhm.”  

He brushes your stray hairs away from your face as he studies every freckle, each worry line, committing your face to memory so whenever he’s out in the field without you, he can see you again when he closes his eyes. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen...” he whispered, bringing his eyes back to yours. 

You melt back into him, risking the borrowed time each of you had together before he had to leave again. 

~~~~~~~ 

Outskirts of Bastogne, December 1944 

You walk with Doc through the frozen Ardennes Forest, trying to find your way to the 3rd Battalion for supplies, but to no avail...you were lost. You make your way back to where you started before you lost your way. You come upon Winters sitting on the edge of his foxhole preparing to shave with an ammo can filled with ice cold water. 

As you approach him, he waves the both of you down after hearing a clatter in the distance. 

“Doc! Doc! Y/L/N!” he shout whispered to you. 

Winters grabs his rifle, and waves you on to come with him to investigate the unknown noise. You come upon a German soldier ready to squat to relieve himself in the distance. Winters tapped you with his elbow prompting you to communicate with the German. 

“Beweg dich nicht! (g) (Do not move)” you call out to the man. 

The German soldier froze, doing as he was directed. 

“Steh langsam und halte deine Hände so, dass wir sie sehen können. (g) (Stand slowly and keep your hands where we can see them)” You instructed.  

The man complied, raising his hands high over his head.   

With this soldier as your new POW, Winters had him brought back to Regiment for intel. You were lucky to score a new bandage off the German upon searching his gear. You had very little medical supplies left so you and Doc were left scrounging for anything you could get. 

As the prisoner is taken away, a jeep pulls up with Col Sink, and the Division Commander, General McAuliffe. You stand with Eugene off to the side as you listen in on the conversation. 

“We’re under sporadic artillery fire, General. We’re taking a lot of hits and have no aid station.” Winters continued. 

Nixon joined the conversation. 

“General, I took a walk on our line about 0300 last night. I couldn't find the 501st  on our right flank. We've got considerable gaps in our perimeter.” Nixon explained. 

“I don't have enough people, sir. We're spread too thin.” Winters added. 

“Hold the line. Close the gaps.” Gen McAuliffe replied curtly. 

“How?” You spat viciously outloud before you could stop yourself. Eugene’s breath hitched as he nudged you. 

Winters, Nixon, Sink and McAuliffe looked at you. You stood there holding your breath. 

“Excuse me, Corporal, you got something to say?” Gen McAuliffe dared. 

Winters offered you a look that told you to proceed with caution. 

“-No, sir.” you reply almost as a growl. The men resumed their conversation. 

Eugene leaned towards you, “If I didn’t already know ya, I’d say you had some Cajun in your blood.” he whispered. 

You each exchanged a weak smile. 

~~~~~~~ 

You and Doc Roe split up to scrounge around throughout the other companies for any aid supplies the guys can spare. Doc is on a personal mission for a pair of scissors after he lost his in Holland. 

You run into Guarnere. 

“Hey, Y/L/N-” he began. 

“Bill, how’s that leg?” you ask him. 

“The hell with the leg, I’m pissing needles!” Guarnere exclaimed. 

“Bill, later. I need to find morphine and scissors for Doc.” you reply. 

You come upon another foxhole and find Liebgott with Alley.  

Joe beamed at you when he saw you peek over the edge, “Hey you! Where have you been?” he asked smiling broadly.  

It’s become difficult to hold back a smile when you see him anymore. 

“Hey guys. Got any spare syrettes?” you ask. 

Alley passes his morphine to Liebgott to hand to you. 

“Thanks, Alley.” you reply excitedly, “Hey, Lieb?” you continue. 

Joe stood up to get closer to you, bearing his signature smirk. The butterflies stirred in your stomach. 

“Can I have your scissors?” you requested sweetly. 

He furrowed his brows, “My scissors?” he questioned. 

“Yeah, Doc needs a pair, he doesn’t have any.” you clarify. 

“Ah,” Joe went into one of his pockets pulling a small pair of medical shears and handing them to you, “Here.”  

You beam back at him, “Thanks, Joe.” You lean in closer to him, “I’ll make sure to keep yours and give Doc mine. Something to remember you by.” you whisper in his ear. 

You pull away and wink at him. Joe smiled back, pointing to his chapped lips signifying he wanted a quick kiss. You peck his mouth then spring to your feet to go find Doc. 

As you’re running to where you last seen Doc, you hear a blast from German artillery in the distance. You crouch closer to the ground, unsure what was to follow or from where. You look around you in all directions seeing soldiers scurrying to foxholes manning their positions to prepare to fight back. More artillery attacks from the Germans showering dirt and shrapnel everywhere, you run hole to hole seeing if anyone needed your help. You catch Roe doing the same across the way. 

“MEDIC!” you hear in the distance as more explosions erupt all around you. You take cover where you can after each shell hits the dirt, trying to get to the soldiers in need. You and Doc made it to the same foxhole at the same time with Randleman and Penkala. 

“Penkala!” Doc called out. 

“It’s the artery! I can feel it.” Penkala screamed holding his left arm. 

“Pen, let go!” you yell at him as Doc tries to get at the wound on his forearm. 

“It’s the goddam artery!” Penkala repeats panicked. 

“Penkala, loosen your fingers, goddam it! Loosen them now!” Doc barked. 

“I’ll bleed to death!” Penkala cries. 

“Relax your arm! Come on!” you tell him as Doc holds his arm straight for you to see, “It’s not the artery.” you confirm. 

You hear another call for a medic in the opposite direction. 

“Go on, Y/L/N, I got this.” Doc reassures you. 

You turn to sprint towards the shouts for help, diving behind snow mounds and piles of fallen trees for cover everytime a blast strikes close enough to where you are. 

~~~~~~~ 

After the attacks died down, you find Doc Roe with Spina (another medic) in a foxhole. 

“-This is what I want you to do,” Doc began to Spina, “I want you to take someone and work your way over to the 3rd Battalion, all right? You know what we need. Bandages, plasma, whatever you can beg, you beg. All right and get me some goddam scissors. I can’t get any.” he finished exasperated. 

Spina jumped out of the hole as you slip in next to Doc while he looks through his satchel. You pull out your own personal scissors and present them to him. He sees them and looks at you perplexed. 

“For you.” you insisted. 

Doc takes them from you still looking confused. 

“Liebgott gave me his.” you explain with a grin. He flashed a slight smile showing his gratitude. 

“Thanks, Y/F/N.” Doc responded patting you on the shoulder.  

You nod and leave the foxhole to make yourself useful somewhere else. 

~~~~~~~ 

Later that evening, you’re told by one of the other guys that Toye was missing something and that you should pay him a visit. You crawl on your stomach over to the men in the foxhole. 

“Hey, you guys ok?” you ask. 

Toye’s foxhole buddy, McClung, replies with a few complaints of starving to death. 

“Toye? Are you missing something?” you ask. 

“Home.” Toye responds without missing a beat. 

“Ask him to dance, Y/L/N.” McClung hints to you. 

You look at Toye with concern, “Toye? Show me your feet.” you urge. 

Toye directs a look of annoyance at him, “You watch the goddam line, McClung."

Toye raised a leg presenting a bootless foot wrapped in shredded wool blanket tied with boot laces. 

“Where the hell are your boots!?” you questioned him. 

“In Washington, up General Taylor’s ass.” he replies sarcastically. 

“Jesus, what happened?”  

“I took them off to dry my goddam socks and they got blown to hell, okay?” Toye explained. 

“What’s your size?” you ask him. 

“Nine, just like everyone else.” he huffed. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” you tell him as you give him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before you leave. 

~~~~~~~ 

The following morning, the second wave from the Germans hit while you were sitting in a small foxhole by yourself. Gunfire and mortars erupt all around you. Multiple calls from all directions for a medic fill the air. 

“MEDIC!” you run in the direction of the first call you can hear closest to you. Weaving and dodging blasts and pings of bullets flying past your head. 

You see Doc and Perconte carrying Sisk to a jeep, loading him up to take him back to Bastogne for additional aid. When Doc returns, Sgt Martin gathers some of Easy for a reconnaissance mission. When you and Doc try to join, he tells you stay behind.  

As you wait in the quiet, gunfire commences in the distance where the guys just convoyed to. You hear shouting from your guys that someone is hit. You start to run towards the commotion. 

“Y/L/N! Where the hell do you think you’re goin’? Eugene yells after you. 

“I’m going to go help!” you call back without stopping. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed! Y/F/N stop!” Doc shouted. 

You kept moving forward. You find cover behind dirt mounds and trees, cautiously and quickly trying to make contact with your guys. You see them through the fog all taking cover behind a pile of lumber, then you look to the right and see a man on the ground, squirming while clutching his throat.  

“Oh, shit...” you whisper to yourself.  

You crawl up next to Randleman and Martin. 

“Y/L/N!? What the hell are you doing here?? I told you to stay back!” Martin yelled. 

“I heard someone was hit, Sarge!” you justified. 

“Damn it, girl, don’t you listen?” Bull scolded. 

Germans firing from the opposite direction made it impossible to move anywhere. 

“Sarge, who’s out there??” you yell gesturing to the soldier out in the open. 

“Julian!” Martin replied. 

You army crawl to the edge where the lumber ends and try to estimate the distance to get to the injured soldier.  

“Y/L/N! What in the hell are you doin’??” Martin shouted. 

 “I can get him!” you yell over your shoulder. 

“The hell you can! The Krauts aren’t lettin’ up! You’ll get hit, too!” Heffron cried out. 

“I can!” you pushed back. 

Laying completely flat on your stomach and chest, you pull yourself out by your arms and hands from behind the pile of wood. 

“Somebody grab her, goddam it!” Martin yelled out. 

“So close...” you whisper to yourself as you lean on your left elbow to reach for Julian’s left hand with your right until you feel a dull but blunt sting just below your left shoulder on your back.  

The remaining breath you had exited your lungs, and the world around you fell silent. You feel a pool of warmth soak through your uniform when you’re suddenly pulled back by your feet by Randleman. A trail of your blood left behind in the snow from where you had been laying. 

“God dammit! I fucking knew it!” Martin shouted.  

“I gotchya, girl.” you hear Randleman say. 

“Pull back! We gotta pull back! Go!” Martin ordered the others. 

You suddenly feel yourself hoisted over a shoulder being carried away from the position. 

You hear Randleman’s voice again, “Hang on, Y/F/N, almost there.” 

He lays you down as softly as he could when he reaches a safe distance. 

“Goddam it, Y/L/N, why did you go?” Doc whispered as he opened your uniform jacket where the wound was. 

He pulled back the fabric and saw that there was an exit wound, signifying the bullet had gone clean through the front. 

“Well, at least I don’t have to go diggin’ for anything in there.” Doc stated. 

“Where is she!?” Liebgott’s voice rang out. 

Joe pushed past a few of the guys standing around where Randleman and Doc were kneeling on the ground with you. Bull stood up to meet Liebgott as he approached you and Doc. 

“Easy, Joe, she’s ok. Let Doc do his work first.” Randleman said restraining him respectfully by the torso. 

A horrified Liebgott stared at you lying on the ground. Blood leaking from your left side onto the snow leaving a pool of red in its wake. The bullet made contact next to your scapula and exited through the front directly under your left clavicle. Doc had already applied a bandage and a syrette to prepare you for transport. Doc nodded at Randleman to let Liebgott go. 

Joe knelt next to you, not knowing where to put his hands on you.  

“It’s ok, Lieb, you can hold her.” Doc told him. 

Joe scooped your limp body up with soft hands and cradled you in his arms.  

“What the fuck happened?” Liebgott growled without looking away from your face. 

“She tried to grab Julian who was bleeding out on the road while the Krauts were firing at us from the woods.” Heffron explained. 

Liebgott’s jaw clenched, “And?”  

“She was close, Joe, but they got her before she could get him. I pulled her back as soon as she got hit.” Bull added. 

Joe pushed the loose strands from your tousled hair away from your face as you rested in his arms. Seeing your face pale and your breath shallow sent anger and rage boiling over inside of him.  

“Lieb, the bullet missed her lung, and the bone. It was a clean shot. All she needs is plasma and rest. She’s gonna be fine.” Doc reassured as he squat next to both of you with his hand on Joe’s shoulder. 

Joe looked at Eugene, “Thanks, Doc. Bull...all of you guys, for watching out for her.”  

~~~~~~~ 

Bastogne Christmas 1944 

Because of the significant amount blood you lost that day, you remained unconscious for almost four days. Easy company took on another frontal attack from the Germans the night before Christmas Eve. The following morning, Liebgott got approval to take a ride back to Bastogne to see you at the church where all the wounded were being held. 

As he entered the building, Eugene met him at the entrance. 

“Hey, Lieb, she’s over here.” Doc said walking towards a set of stairs with Joe on his heels. 

“How is she, Doc?” Joe asked nervously. 

Doc turned to him, “She’s awake.” 

“She’s awake?” Joe echoed. 

Doc chuckled, “Yeah, she’s doin’ just fine, Lieb. I told ya she’d be ok.”  

Doc stopped at a curtained off area for female casualties. About a dozen beds each boxed off by curtains for privacy, Doc gestured towards the other side of the room where your bed was located. 

“She’s back there, Joe. She’s been asking for ya. Take all the time you need.” Doc added with a weak smile. 

Joe smiled back extending his hand to shake Eugene’s. 

“Thanks, Doc.”  

Liebgott proceeded to the curtained off bed at the end of the row. He peeked through the opening, seeing you laying peacefully in the bed. Your eyes hooded and color returning to your face, he looked upon you like he saw you for the first time. You bear heavy bandages over your left shoulder in a sling. He slowly pushed the divider aside. 

You quickly look over and pure joy stretches across your face as you try to sit up to meet him. 

“Joe!” you exclaim then wince from pain as you move forward to reach for him. 

“Jesus Christ, Gams, don’t move too much!” he chastised sitting on the edge of the bed extending a soft touch on your injured shoulder.  

Joe gently guided you backwards, propping your pillow up so you could lean back against the headboard. 

“I’m fine, Joe.” you respond grabbing his hand. 

He looks you over with serious eyes. Unable to contain the outrage he felt seeing the results of what the Germans had done to you. This thought raised other concerns as well. 

Joe looked at you distraught, “Why would just throw yourself into middle of that shit, Y/F/N?”  

You meet his exhausted face, feeling at a loss for words to justify your actions.  

“Joe-” you began. 

“You could’ve died. We almost lost you. I almost lost you...You understand how close you were to dying?” he interrupted before you could continue.  

You look down feeling guilty, “I wanted to help,” you say quietly. “I wouldn’t’ve been able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least go out there and try.” you explained.  

You steal a glance at Joe. His face was still twisted with worry. He placed his palm against your cheek cradling your head bringing your face up to look at him. 

“You have a lot of good inside you, sweetheart,” he smiled weakly shaking his head, “but you ain’t helpin’ no one if you’re dead.” he added. 

You nod in agreement, “I know...I’ll be more careful, Joe, I promise.” you pledge. 

“I told you we’re gettin’ out of this shit together, didn’t I? I need you on the same page with me.” he reminded. 

“We are. I swear it.” you confirm. 

“The guys have been worried about ‘chya.” Joe added. 

“Yeah?” you ask, placing your hand on your chest pleasantly surprised. 

“All of ‘em. Bull said he pulled you out.”  

“Yeah, last thing I remember was him throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.” you recollect. 

Joe scoffed, “Yeah, and Martin is still pissed at you.”  

“Oh boy,” you palm your face, “I don’t blame him.” you add. 

“Doc said you’ll be outta here soon.” 

“Yeah, I can’t wait to get back out there.” 

Joe eyed you skeptically, then shook his head. 

“I know, I know, Joe, but I promised I’d do better, remember? Doc needs extra hands out there, too.” you explain. 

Joe smiled, entertained and touched by your passion leaned in kissing you gently, tenderly deepening after each breath taken. 

~~~~~~~ 

You had been discharged that same day while Joe was visiting and had returned to the line with him. You made sure to grab a pair of size nine boots for Toye on the way out, as promised. 

That evening, a German bombing run hits Bastogne and the church turned aid station takes a couple of direct hits, destroying the building and unfortunately trapping some left-over casualties and medical personnel during evacuation. Doc returned from the town with this grave news, to which you comforted your medic brother since he lost his friend, Renee in the attack.  

You had a special place for each of these men in your big heart. These are your boys. You would split yourself into fifty to have the ability to be there for them properly. It broke your heart to see any of them in any kind of pain. It killed you more inside to not be able to be there to do so. Having been so close to pulling Julian from that road to no avail will haunt your dreams for the entirety of your life. You felt like you failed him and the rest of the guys.  

Thank goodness for Liebgott. Your Saviour with a mouth and soft touch with calloused hands. 

~~~~~~~ 

[kaaaaaaarf]

So I had quite a few people ask me about Remus' 💖💖🍆🥵Sirius Black🥵🍆💖💖 playlist from chapter two of The Killing Time (unwillingly mine), and you all know how much I love playlists, so....may I present a weird and horny playlist by Remus J Lupin:

My Body ft. Your Lips by The Beaches & Beach Weather

Ooh, I wanna be your bitch I wanna taste your spit I wanna be your bitch Leave a mark on my innocence My body featuring your lips, your lips

2. Young American by The Vaccines

Hold me in the grips of your jaw So you can show me what my mouth is for Suffocate me in between your thighs And take me swimming naked in your eyes [...] Heavy and aggressive, I'm your thug So easy and obsessive, I'm your drug I am yours, take me now

3. I Want To Be Your Only Pet by Bombay Bicycle Club

Oh I want to be your only pet I want to be your only pet I want to be your only pet I want to be your only pet I want to be your only pet I want to be your only pet I want to be your only pet I want to be your only pet

4. Rock My Boy's Body by Joseph Stephens

People stop to ask me, "How do you please your man?" Take it from the black sheep baby, every way I can Sometimes it's with fire, and sometimes with ice Just don't get it twisted, this body's gonna pay the price Gonna rock my boy's body Gonna rock my boy's body tonight

5. Every Breath You Take by The Police

Oh, can't you see You belong to me? How my poor heart aches With every step you take? Every move you make And every vow you break Every smile you fake Every claim you stake I'll be watching you

6. Closer by Nine Inch Nails

I broke apart my insides (Help me) I've got no soul to sell (Help me) the only thing that works for me Help me get away from myself I wanna fuck you like an animal I wanna feel you from the inside I wanna fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God

7. Maps (Early Four Track Demo) by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Wait, they don't love you like I love you Wait, they don't love you like I love you Maps Wait, they don't love you like I love you

8. You're Mine by Phantogram

'Cause you're mine 'Cause you're mine 'Cause you're mine 'Cause you're mine No one's gonna love you No one's gonna touch you No ones gonna look at you the way that I do

9. Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge

Its cute in a way, till you cannot speak And you leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak An escape is just a nod and a casual wave Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days It's only just a crush, it'll go away It's just like all the others it'll go away Or maybe this is danger and he just don't know You pray it all away but it continues to grow [...] As I whisper in your ear I want to fucking tear you apart

10. Cockroach by Miya Folick

Crush me under the weight Bitterness, jealousy, hate 'Cause I'm a fucking cockroach And you can't kill me I'm a fuckin' cockroach And you can't kill me Crush me, crush me Crush me, crush me (crush me) Crush me (crush me), crush me Crush me (crush me), crush me

11. Treat Me Like A Slut by Kim Petras

Ride it, slide it, bite it, get inside it Come on, touch my body I know that you like it, you can't hide it Come on, touch my body Harder, bigger, faster, longer, thicker Come on, touch my body I can see that you gettin' excited Come on, touch my body Treat me like a slut Little dirty bitch, I love to fuck

12. Make Me Feel by Janelle Monae

It's like I'm powerful with a little bit of tender An emotional, sexual bender Mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better There's nothin' better That's just the way you make me feel That's just the way you make me feel So real, so good, so fuckin' real

13. Filthy/Gorgeous by Scissor Sisters

'Cause you're filthy (filthy) Ooh, and I'm gorgeous (gorgeous) 'Cause you're filthy (filthy) Ooh, and I'm gorgeous (gorgeous) You're disgusting Ooh, and you're nasty And you can grab me Ooh, 'cause you're nasty

14. Stuff Me Up by Peaches

I see you sitting, stuffing your face, why don't you stuff me up? Mmmmm, mmm, mmm, mmm

15. Flower by Liz Phair

Everything you say is so obnoxious, funny, true and mean I want to be your blow job queen You're probably shy and introspective That's not part of my objective I just want your fresh, young jimmy Jamming, slamming, ramming in me Every time I see your face I think of things unpure, unchaste I want to fuck you like a dog I'll take you home and make you like it Everything you ever wanted Everything you ever thought of Is everything I'll do to you I'll fuck you till your dick is blue

16. ...Baby, One More Time by Britney Spears

Show me how you want it to be Tell me baby 'cause I need to know now, oh because My loneliness is killing me (and I) I must confess I still believe (still believe) When I'm not with you I lose my mind Give me a sign Hit me baby one more time Hit me baby one more time

17. Wet Dream by Wet Leg

I was in your wet dream Driving in my car Saw you at the side of the road There's no one else around You're touching yourself, touching yourself Touching your, touching yourself Touching yourself

18. Stars Are Blind by Paris Hilton

I don't mind spending some time just hanging here with you 'Cause I don't find too many guys that treat me like you do Those other guys all wanna take me for a ride But when I walk, they talk of suicide Some people never get beyond their stupid pride But you can see the real me inside, and I'm satisfied

19. What's Your Fantasy by Ludacris

I wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes And I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo' Then I wanna, "Ahh ahh, " you make it so good I don't wanna leave But I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy? [...] How ever you want it, lover-lover gon' tap that ass soon See I cast 'em and I passed 'em Get a tight grip and I grasp 'em I flash 'em and outlast 'em And if it ain't good then I trash 'em While you stash 'em, I'll let 'em free And they tell me what's they fantasy Like up on the roof, roof Tell your boyfriend not to be mad at me

20. Taste by Lorna Vallings

If I could have just a moment of you Would I be wanting more? If I could have just a taste of you Would I be addicted? If I could have just a touch of you Could I tear myself away? I would pray to be the rain that runs over and in your skin With no consequence To be the liquid in your glass that falls around your lips and mouth Swallow me

21. Gimme More by Britney Spears

Gimme, gimme (more), gimme (more), gimme, gimme (more) Gimme, gimme (more), gimme (more), gimme, gimme (more) I just can't control myself Ooh (more) They want more? Well, I'll give them more Ow! (More)

22. Drive by Melissa Ferrick

Your mouth waters Stretched out on my bed Your fingers are trembling And your heart is heavy and red And your head is bent back And your back is arched My hand is under there Holding you up I'll hold you up And drive you all night I'll hold you up And drive you, baby, till you feel the daylight

23. Killshot - Slowed + Reverb by Magdalena Bay

If I fall in every time Wicked love will leave me blind Yeah I knew it I been through it Oh god Can you make my heart stop Hit me with your kill shot baby I mean it so serious

24. (You Drive Me) Crazy by Britney Spears

Tell me you're so into me That I'm the only one you will see Tell me I'm not in the blue, oh That I'm not wasting my feelings on you Loving you means so much more More than anything I ever felt before You drive me crazy I just can't sleep I'm so excited, I'm in too deep Whoa oh oh, crazy, but it feels alright Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night Crazy, I just can't sleep I'm so excited, I'm in too deep Crazy, but it feels alright Every day and every night

25. Buttons by The Pussycat Dolls

Typical ain't hardly the type I fall for I like when the physical Don't leave me asking for more I'm a sexy mama (Mama) Who knows just how to get what I wanna (Wanna) What I wanna do is spring this on ya (On ya) Back up all of the things that I told ya (Told ya, told ya, told ya) You been sayin' all the right things all night long But I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off

26. Popsicle by Talking Heads

Ask, it shall be given Pay, and ye shall receive Cigarettes and pantyhose Hit me in the funny bone Hynie hole Tootsie roll Jelly roll Time to go Popsicle of love Gimme gimme gimme one of those (It's summertime, boy!) coconut delight Honey honey honey don't let go (It's summertime, love)

27. Horny by Mark Morrison

Get on the floor I wanna freak you, huh Roses are red And violets are blue Get on the floor Oh oh yeah Get horny, get horny (Drop your clothes on da floor) Get horny, get horny, wooh (An close da door, ya know the score) Get horny, get horny (Show ya bod, I don't waste no time, no) Get horny, get horny

28. Sex Bomb by Tom Jones

Make me explode although you know The route to go to sex me slow (slow baby) And yes, I must react to claims of those Who say that you are not all that Sex bomb, sex bomb, you're my sex bomb uh, huh You can give it to me when I need to come along Sex bomb, sex bomb, you're my sex bomb And baby you can turn me on (turn me on)

29. I'm Too Sexy by Right Said Fred

I'm a model, you know what I mean And I do my little turn on the catwalk Yeah, on the catwalk, yeah, on the catwalk, yeah I shake my little tush on the catwalk I'm too sexy for my cat Too sexy for my cat Poor pussy, poor pussy cat I'm too sexy for my love Too sexy for my love Love's going to leave me

30. Hot In Herre by Nelly

I got secrets cant leave Cancun So take it off like your home alone You know dance in front your mirror while your on the phone Checkin your reflection and tellin your best friend, Like "girl I think my butt gettin big" Its gettin hot in here (so hot) So take off all your clothes I am gettin so hot, I wanna take my clothes off

31. Casual by Chappell Roan

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch I thought you thought of me better Someone you couldn't lose You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss, I have anger issues You said, "Baby, no attachment" But we're Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out Is it casual now? Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends It's casual, if it's casual now Then, baby, get me off again If it's casual, it's casual now

32. I'm Your Man by Wham!

Call me good Call me bad Call me anything you want to, baby But I know that you're sad And I know I'll make you happy With the one thing that you never had Baby, I'm your man (do do do that, don't you do that) Don't you know that? Baby, I'm your man (do do do that) You bet If you're gonna do it, do it right (right, do it with me)

33. You Want It Darker by Leonard Cohen

If you are the dealer, I'm out of the game If you are the healer, it means im broken and lame If thine is the glory, then mine must be the shame You want it darker We kill the flame Magnified, sanctified Be the holy name Vilified, crucified In the human frame A million candles burning For the help that never came You want it darker

[underground-boss-clay]

Hello, Gym Leader Clay.

I'm writing to you concerning your romantic relationship with Gym Leader Drayden. If... it is not presumptuous to ask, I was hoping to inquire about the beginnings of your relationship. What... what exactly was it that made you realize you were experiencing romantic attraction?

Ain't no problem ta ask. Just that the answer ain't machine cut clean. 'Course, it'd be easy ta give you that "you'll know on yer own" kinda garbage but I ain't the sort ta lie like that.

See, it's been brought up a coupla times on here, but Drayden wasn't the first relationship I was in. An' well, I knew I loved her. Not think, knew. The feelings I had round her were... Intoxicating. Like there were Beautifly 'n my gut, an' even the rainiest days with her could be sunny. Jus' seein' her made the day brighter somehow. 'Cept well, love don't last long without a decent foundation, an' turns out we didn't have one. Ain't gettin' into the grit of it but the tougher times got, the harder it became to love her--ta stay 'n love with her. Them gut-Beautifly died down, sunny days got cloudy, but I--we both thought we were close enough friends that we could sort things out. ... We didn't. An' that's on both sides, mind: we didn't talk much bout our problems, an' so they just built up an' rotted the already-shaky foundation till it all fell apart under us. Whatever love we had didn't last as long as we were told it would.

An' then, a' course, the part ya actually asked fer. The feelings fer Drayden didn't come up right away honestly--hell, I didn't even realize 'em right away. We'd been friends fer so long, an' he'd been there fer so much a' the bad times, at first I just thought that what I was feelin' was appreciation fer him stickin' by me despite bein'... well, more disliked 'n usual at the time.

It took some long thinkin' before I realized what I was feelin' again, an' uh... well I didn't like it right away. Not only was I unsure after... Errythin' that happened with Celia, but growin' up I was told that feelings towards another man weren't somethin' a fella should act on. Sure I'd had them before growin' up, but as they passed quickly I figured it was just a normal, if intrusive, kinda thought? So why was it comin' back tenfold towards Drayden? I didn't get it.

An' then Mildred hit me over the head with the "it has been how fuckin' long an' you don't know what 'bisexual' is" hammer. ... In my defense it weren't covered when I was growin' up.

But talkin' with her made me realize that I jus' had to bite that bullet an' come clean to Drayden bout how I was feelin'. Even if he didn't return the feelings, least it wouldn't be hangin' over my head no more an' we could find somewhere ta go from there, either still as friends or... not.

Course, y'all know what musta happened. Not only did we talk bout how I felt, an' how he felt back, but we also kept talkin' afterwards, bout how ta deal with each other's issues, disagreements... We stayed as friends, jus'... made sure our foundation was sturdier before we built on top a' that.

Boilin' it all down though, yer gonna fall 'n love with people, they'll make every moment with them feel the best, but it's gonna take work ta make it actually last ferra long time.

[funny-friends]

gosh i have been big thinking about makima x kobeni since i finished p1 thank you for all this delicious food

You ever pondered how they would work in canon? like how would it best be incorporated into the series/what their dynamic would be post p1 if somehow makima lived despite her warcrimes? Regardless amazing art keep it up !

thank you!! i have a lot of thoughts about how it could work in canon and most of it is explored in my 40,000 word fan fiction that ive never posted anywhere

BUT i will share the short of it (putting it under a cut because long/spoilers)

like from what i gathered makima, at least to some extent, seems to equate 'equals' with 'person i cannot defeat in combat' and like her canonical downfall was ultimately due to underestimating denji because she just thought he was so beneath her that she didn't need to bother memorizing his smell and stuff right.

so with that in mind, i assume she also would see kobeni as kind of a weird bug that she doesn't really need to worry about. but imagine one day she just gets in her way Somehow and makima's like '🙄 guess i have to kill her but at least it'll be easy' so like she's gettin ready to blow kobeni's ass into smithereens but thanks to kobeni's shocking reflexes and plot armour she just can't kill her. like its like wile-e-coyote and the road runner like she tries droppin anvils on her and everything.

so ultimately because she underestimated kobeni she ends up getting her own ass kicked and she's just like 'damn i cun't believe i lost to this human' but shes also like '😳' so then its like... i dunno maybe her powers dont work on kobeni anymore and maybe once things smooth out a little she can finally have a human friend who kind of keeps her from going crazy and ALL this happens before everything goes Wrong so power and aki and all of everyone's favs (and himeno) can forever live in harmony because makima is too busy having the best gay sex of her life every day to be evil anymore.

...sorry that was a bit long i have a lot of thoughts abouyt them but thanks for reading if you made it this far.

as for how it'd work in a scenario where it was like... post pt.1 but makima survives instead, i think that's a bit harder to picture just because makima would be so far gone at that point i can't imagine kobeni would really want anything to do with her. it definitely could be interesting and i think it has a lot of angst potential but it's not something ive really put a lot of thought into yet 🤔 there could maybe be something to work with if you imagined kobeni feeling 'thankful' towards makima for giving her an excuse to cut ties with her family, but i dunno how i'd tackle that personally. too heavy

[magical-cookie-anon]

Greetings loved ones

Let's take a journey

I know a place

Where the grass is really greener

Warm, wet n' wild

There must be something in the water

Sippin' gin and juice

Laying underneath the palm trees

(Undone)

The boys

Break their necks

Try'na to creep a little sneak peek

(At us)

You could travel the world

But nothing comes close

To the golden coast

Once you party with us

You'll be falling in love

Ooh oh ooh oh oh ooh

California girls

We're unforgettable

Daisy dukes

Bikinis on top

Sun-kissed skin

So hot

We'll melt your popsicle

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent

Now put your hands up

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

Sex on the beach

We don't mind sand in our stilettos

We freak

In my jeep

Snoop doggy-dog on the stereo oh oh

You could travel the world

But nothing comes close

To the golden coast

Once you party with us

You'll be falling in love

Ooh oh ooh ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're unforgettable

Daisy dukes

Bikinis on top

Sun-kissed skin

So hot

We'll melt your popsicle

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent

Now put your hands up

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

Toned, tan

Fit and ready

Turn it up 'cause its gettin' heavy

Wild, wild west coast

These are the girls I love the most

I mean the ones

I mean like she's the one

Kiss her, touch her

Squeeze her buns

The girl's a freak

She drive a jeep

And live on the beach

I'm okay

I won't play

I love the bay

Just like I love L.A.

Venice Beach

And Palm Springs

Summertime is everything

Home boys

Bangin' out

All that ass

Hanging out

Bikinis, zucchinis, martinis

No weenies

Just a king

And a queenie

Katy my lady

(Yeah)

And looky here baby

(Uh huh)

I'm all up on ya

'Cause you representing California (oh yeah)

California girls

We're unforgettable

Daisy dukes

Bikinis on top

Sun-kissed skin

So hot

We'll melt your popsicle

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent (west coast, west coast)

Now put your hands up

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls man

(California)

(California girls)

- @dinosaurthedealmaker

Is this what you've been waiting for?

Say, "One, two and four"

(You're bound to count to one, two)

(You're bound to count to one, two)

(You're bound to count to one, two)

Guess what comes after

Hi again, I'm Gabe N

A fan of shooters, wizard of computers and a handsome man

(Your grandfather used to blather 'bout him a thousand years ago)

Wasn't easy keeping busy

Every season brings another reason not to make a game

(Oh, why bother, just another wasted day in the studio)

I had it all but tried new things, true

It didn't get us very far

Between controllers and machines, you

Still picked a rusty old crowbar

Nobody sees beyond my charming self

A soul that's never truly free

So, just for once, forget the summer sale

And give it up for Half-Life, Alyx

The valve's been stuck, corroded by the money

Has not been oiled for years

We didn't even hope to see it running

But now you're bound to learn how to

But now you're bound to learn how to

This time you're bound to count to three

Well, here we are again

Except we're long forgotten

My circuits niggling up and down my spine

He said it's worth the wait

His weight keeps pressing harder

But Alyx gave us hope, we'll rise and shine

For soulless card games and hardware releases

The light's been turning green

Life gave you lemons, take them out the freezer

This time you're bound to learn how to

This time you're bound to learn how to

This time you're bound to count

The numbers are intimidating

It's hard to give a fresh new start

When everyone's anticipating

Another masterpiece of art

If this machine keeps playing dead, we

May end up on the other side

So hold on to all your hats

Let's show 'em a triple-A done right

The valve's been stuck, corroded by the money

But after many years

We can't believe the engine started running

This time he's bound to count to three

Full steam ahead, we'll end this idle running

Let's give the valve a spin!

We've got some work to do, so take this, honey

This time you're bound to learn how to

This time you're bound to learn how to

This time you're bound to count to three

Thank you and have fun

[auspex]

(gehenna-calling) ok then. let’s have the song from mark & sampson’s playlist that you are Most Normal About

at first i struggled w this ask and then i saw u specified the Mark And Sampson playlist and not the Mark playlist. so. easy wins.

See I'm so normal about this because it is literally about them? Like IDk why this band The National wrote a song for mark and Sampson like tbh thats so insane. for them. I'm normal about it though. I've ranted about this song before but the lyrics are literally just so perfect OKAY??? It can be interpreted from both Mark's perspective and Sampson's. even the ST said this is the best fitting song on their playlist.

Every time you get a drink And every time you go to sleep Are those dreams inside your head? Is that sunlight on your bed?

From Mark's perspective, abt sampson: Sampson seems to drink a lot, which is fair because of the horrors. He wonder's if its unhealthy but is too distant/nervous to really ask. Not sure if it's his place, you know? As for the dreams - lots of context is required to properly understand this but in short Sampson is worried about a changling invading his dreams to the point where he basically insisted mark get him a bed that is warded to protect against that. Mark wonders what sampson dreams about to make him feel that strongly about it.

from Sampsons perspective, so about Mark: Drinking here is about blood. It's harder for me to go into sampsons perspective cause he aint my character so idk everything, but i can def imagine that Sampson wonders how the changeling is fucking with Mark's dreams (because mark is a kindred he can no longer remember his dreams cause its like hes dead but according to the changeling he still has them). I'll interpret the sunlight bit as being worried about mark being ok.

-

Every time you're driving home Way outside your safety zone Wherever you will ever be You're never getting rid of me

From Mark's perspective about Sampson: Mark knows Sampson is really concerned about being safe and anytime he leaves his home he knows on some level he must be scared. When he interacts with kindred it's always pretty scary for Sampson. And then of course. The bit about not being able to get rid of him. Mark knows that with the ghoul thing he's kind of dependent on Mark and. he doesn't like that. But yea wherever Sampson goes Mark is with him in the sense that vampires and ghouls would know of their connection and there's no gettin rid of that! and he can't flee. And also Mark really needs sampson for reasons of humanity too - he is a touchstone.

From Sampsons perspective about Mark (and also Just about Mark even if Sampson doesn;t think abt it cause again idk all of sampsons thoughts or many of them): Mark put himself in danger soooo mcuh in order to get territory during open warefare w the Sabbat and . idk how much Sampson knows this but mark wanting a safe place / power was very influenced by wanting to protect sampson. not the only reason but a big one. And. again. being his ghoul. makes the last line work. ough.

-

[Chorus] You own me There's nothing you can do You own me

-

So self explanatory. Mark has to be Sampson's domintor because of how fucked up the Camarilla in Detroit is. So even if he doesn't act on it its . kind of a fact that he does. and from mark's side of it he would bascially do anything for sampson out of a WONDERFUL DELICOIUS ANGSTY COMBO of guilt, love, possessiveness, and a desire to stay in touch w his humanity.

-

[Verse 3] You could've made a safer bet But what you break is what you get You wake up in the bed you make I think you made a big mistake

Their relationship was def broke by other things but Mark has fucked it up more with the blood bond and the changeling contract. But its the situation and they live w it every day. The Big Mistake is def the changeling contract.

IDK if sampson feels this way but having sampson is def a risk for Mark - a person who can be easily used as leverage over him. Not a very safe thing. But he didn't really get a choice.

-

[Chorus] You own me There's nothing you can do You own me You own me Lucky you You own me There's nothing you can do

Same stuff as before but i want 2 add that i could totally see sampson word for word saying sarcastically "You own me, lucky you" hhhh

-

[Bridge] You clean yourself to meet A man who isn't me You're putting on a shirt A shirt I'll never see The letter's in your coat And no one's in your head 'Cause you're too smart to remember You're too smart

Lucky you Lucky you Lucky you

Deep fucking breath. OKAY. OKAY. So this fits but. I have to explain.

The first four lines. are about Mark. From Sampson's perspective. Meeting with his sire. He puts on a bit of an act not in a lying way but in the way that he wants his sire to be proud of him and happy about what he's done. And Mark tries to keep Sampson as far away from his sire as possible.

The next part. Is about Sampson from Mark's perspective. Mark has someone in his head - his sire Julius - but Sampson doesn't. And Sampson has memory problems. which is really sad but it in a way it's safer and smart to not know.

but again a sarcastic lucky you cause like. its really sad how bad his memory problems are.

-

Ok i analyzied the hwole song and theres more i could say but this is enough. for you to see. that it is so normal that im obsessed wiht it. <3 thank you

[persephonis-gardens]

Cammy's monolog

Camilla's the fancy name what my mama and papa called me when I was born, but folks 'round here just call me Cammy. You'd be pressed to find a miner in the whole state that looks and talks like me, and I can't change what it makes you think of me but I betcha none of the pretty girlies in town can do what I do everyday.

You see, my brother Cameron -called him Cammy too. When he was around my age he got a lung full of dust from working in the mines. When the doc said he wasn't getting any better, that he would sooner be going to heaven than back to work, my papa went and almost drank himself to death every night 'til he was so hung over on shift he got into an accident with the blasting dynamite.

They say times are gettin' harder is why they're payin' us less and less and why stuff's costin' more and more, but for us folk times' always been hard. So since mama can't make no more baby boys, and we still need to put food on the table, she told me at 14 that I either get myself a husband or follow in my papa's and brother's footsteps and go into the mines myself. Now I'm not the type of lady that fancies husbands so I picked up the pickaxe and went to work.

In the early days the men would all stare, whistle at me and when I didn't return the favor they'd get angry. That's gotten better now I've proved myself. That's when the boys on my shift and guys who were friends with papa and brother started calling me Cammy. But I still hear whispers behind my back of horrible names and such. Not so much from the miners no more as much from the girlies in town. They call me a 'whore,' a 'suffragette,' 'shemale.' Worst if all they call my mama a witch, sayin' she sold my soul to the devil. It ain't easy but still I do what needs to be done for my mama.

I never learn't to read or write but when I was small, Cameron would read me aloud these storybooks word by word. One of them was about Joan of Arc, you ever heard of Joan of Arc? She was a little lady all the way over in Europe way back in the old days during a big war time. She could've done what any little lady did in Europe in the old days, picked flowers, gotten married, made babies, churned butter, but she was different. She would've until one day she heard the voice of God himself, and God told her to do what needed to be done for her people. And you know what she did? She cut off her hair and picked up a sword and became a knight for the king's army. She led her people into battle and they followed her and she done right ended the war, all the while doing genuine saintlike miracles on folks. And you know what they did to thank her for all that? They burned her at the stake.