#faye you know exactly what you are doing

[chipthekeeper]

Today I had the displeasure of reading the words “we get it vel is sad and gay can we move on” and several other similarly ridiculous things on twitter a website not to be named, so I spent my whole 45 minute drive home just absolutely fuming with the need to defend my girl. Most of you know I've already done this in a broad sense before (defending her as a character and as half of a complicated relationship on her appreciation Friday), but let me focus in on what we’ve gotten from Vel so far in season two for now. Because yeah, it might not have been exactly what I was hoping to see, but it’s meaningful as hell and Faye is doing a fucking incredible job and deserves to be applauded for it.

Look. Even if all she was doing was being sad and gay, I would be here for that. You know this. Those are two of my most favorite qualities of her. But let’s not pretend that all she’s doing is “mourning her gay situationship” and forget why we’re seeing her in this arc in the first place. She’s Mon’s cousin and closest confidant, and she’s Chandrilan. Stuck between these two facts is a conflict for Vel. She HAS to be at this three-day-long heteronormative child wedding from hell because someone she loves needs her support, but she hates every second of it. She hates this place, these people, this culture, probably even the clothes on her back. She looks uncomfortable just about every second she’s on screen in this arc, ESPECIALLY in the third episode.

See?

Something you may or may not have noticed – even I didn’t really register it until I started thinking about all of this because watching three fucking episodes all in one night made them all blur together – but Vel DOESN’T ACTUALLY SAY A WORD IN THE THIRD EPISODE. She has no lines. Vel’s extreme stress and discomfort are conveyed only through Faye’s body language and facial expressions. To complain about this and cry about her only being “sad and gay” is a huge discredit to the performance and I simply won’t stand for it.

Like yes, she’s sad and gay but why can’t we take a second to think about what that means? Look at her circumstances, even leaving out the Cinta of it all for a second. This is a person who must have realized at a very young age that she was not only different but very likely going to either live a completely miserable life or be a disappointment to her very wealthy family and her society at large, and being back here in the middle of it all for an occasion like this hurts fucking deeply even if it’s a weird tradition and she wants no part in it. I can tell you this for a fact because I have fucking lived it. As a gay person, I have no desire whatsoever to take part in a traditional religious marriage or wedding ceremony like the one my sister had a couple years ago, but being at her wedding and the party that followed was overwhelming and painful because I spent so much time thinking something along the lines of “even if I had someone in my life to do this with, these same people – my family – would never celebrate my love this way.”

Now, is that what Vel’s thinking about as she stands next to the other unmarried women (i.e. teenage children) watching her niece’s first dance with her new husband? Perhaps not. But the way she breaks down after seeing Cinta sure looked an awful lot like how I looked sitting outside in the dark and the rain, drunk as I’ve ever been, while my sister’s reception carried on behind me.

And this, to me in particular, is what’s so great about Vel as a character – as a STAR WARS character – and why I will never ever complain about seeing her be “sad and gay.” For the first time ever in my favorite franchise, I get to see myself so clearly. She’s sad and gay, yes, but she’s also fiercely supportive of her family (the part she likes, anyway) – she takes Mon’s hand in support when she needs it, and she seems ready to snap at Kleya for even being around and creating the possibility of trouble at this function. She’s sad and gay, yes, but she’s on the front line of a fucking rebellion. Just because you don’t see it in this arc because that’s not where the story is focused doesn’t mean that’s not still true, and we’ll see that again come next week I’m sure.

I don’t really know how to wrap this up, but the point is if you’re tired of what’s happening with Vel in this show, you’re probably not paying enough attention. I want more of her and more for her to do as much as anybody (that’s a lie, I want it SO MUCH FUCKING MORE THAN ANYBODY, fucking try me), but there’s already a whole ocean of her character to explore with just what we have, if you only bother to stop and consider it.

[mellosdrawings]

Do you think in the N2 Squad, Jamil will just randomly get a burst of confidence and flirt with Leona and Vil, just for them to turn it around on him and he then gets so flustered he enters Caterpillar Mode™️ (pulls his hood over his face) for a solid hour?

I kept this one in my asks for a long time coz, while I thought it was a good ask and wanted to draw something for it, I am also plagued with the terrible curse of being both aromantic and autistic and struggling a lot with the very concept of ~*flirting*~

So first, gonna thank @aria-faye and @the-fab-fox for their insights and having the patience to explain to me the big strokes of flirting.

And now, I'm gonna quote aria-faye word for word cause he explained Jamil's flirting perfectly well in my opinion :

"I feel like Jamil is just... bad at flirting. He can tease and joke and all that, but when he's doing it with the intention of flirtation, i feel like he stumbles. His version of intentional flirting would probably be just... being overly straightforward. Saying what he's thinking for once."

"I feel like Jamil isn't very charismatic when it comes to flirting, so he isn't saying it [compliments] in any sort of way. Just pointing out a fact, which, to him, is flirting. Because it's not something he'd normally say aloud."

"Here's the thing: I think if they played the flirting game, and if Jamil said something intentionally over-the-top, teasing flirtatious, they [Leona and Vil] would match his energy and do it right back. BUT Jamil would be equipped to volley that back over and over. It's not flirtation that gets him. There's an element of disingenuous in flirting. It's all exaggerated, a bit untrue. It's an act - a mutually agreed-upon act that everyone in the group enjoys, but an act nonetheless. And Jamil is EXCELLENT at acts. He's no blushing flower when it comes to flirting. He would take that stuff all the way to bed if that's where it led him. But compliments? He has no idea how to take compliments. He has such a low opinion of himself for so long that he never learned. Compliments are what make him blush. Not flirting."

"Like, Leona could be like 'Damn Baby, what does that tongue do?' And Jamil would immediately respond by purring 'Come here and find out.' But Leona being like 'You look beautiful today' would have Jamil like "Oh, um. *blushes, pulls hood over his head* Thanks, I guess.'"

"I think something else that would get him flustered is physical affection. Like he gets all hyped up to shakily hold their hands, and they immediately respond by kissing his cheeks and being sweet to him. That would make him blushy too."

"Flirting is basically just manipulation. Jamil knows how to do that. He's really good at that. It might surprise him at first, but if he's the one initiating, he wouldn't do it unless he knew exactly what he was doing. Flirting for real is kind of fake. A teasing dance you do to get to a more intimate set of behaviors. And Jamil is great at this kind of thing. There are a thousand ways to make him blushy if he's not initiating. But if he's initiating, that implies a level of confidence, so the options for making him blushy circles right back around to honesty."

"Leona and Vil flirt by antagonising each other, so it might take them a second to realize that whenever Jamil drops an Honesty Bomb on them like this and speaks plainly, he's flirting. But once they know, Jamil will never know peace again, because they turn it right back on him and compliment him honestly until he's curled up and hiding in his hood and begging them to stop."

(Yes we had a very long discussion about it x))

[bullet-prooflove]

Bread: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @ilariyalavorowrites @spooky-librarian-ghost @wtfc-huh

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Balance - Jack reveals his feelings for you but they come with complications.

Off Limits - An awkward start to the day leads Jack to make a claim on your affections.

Hawaii - Jack discovers who he really is when you book a trip to Hawaii.

Silk (NSFW) - Jack loves the sight of you in silk.

Boston - You reflect on the past after your ex-husband makes an appearance on a trying day.

This God Damn Fucking Day - Jack steps into the fray with things get messy between you and you ex-husband.

Misdemeanour - Jack's forced to step in when you get arrested because of your ex-husband.

Fishtail - Jack helps you decompress in the aftermath of your ex-husband.

Love Language (NSFW) - Jack has his own unique love language.

What Puts You On That Ledge - Jack finds away to pull you off that ledge.

Masochist - You and Jack have an indepth understanding of one another.

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW) - You know exactly how to get Jack off.

Part of the Job - Violence has always been part of the job, but this time it hits a little too close to home for Jack.

Pittfest - Jack's day turns into a nightmare when he recieves a notification from the hospital regarding a mass casuality event.

Snapband - Jack's worst fear comes true during a mass casuality event.

Life Raft - Jack reaches out when he sees that you're struggling.

Baking saved Jack’s life once. He tells you that when you step into the kitchen after a therapy nap to discover him kneading dough on the countertop.

After his brother got better and his niece was returned to his custody he’d felt listless, unneeded. The PTSD he’d convinced himself he didn’t have had hit him like a freight train. Flashbacks, nightmares, irritability, the works. He stopped sleeping, started to disconnect from the world.

“It was my friend Dre that pulled me out of it.” He says as you lean back against the work surface alongside him, watching his motions. “He’s the vet that owns the bakery. He knew when I got quiet that something wasn’t right. He started coming over but I couldn’t really engage, it was like a disconnect between me and the rest of the world. So we started doing this instead.” He says gesturing at the dough in front of him. “There’s something about the methodology of it that just relaxes me. I started to become more present, started talking more and it’s like the floodgates opened…”

He tilts his head to look at you, his whiskey coloured eyes meeting yours.

“For a long time the world didn’t make sense to me but bread, it’s simple. It’s chemistry, physicality and mindfulness all rolled into one.”

“You like bread because you are bread.” You inform him, nudging his hip with yours. “It’s structured, measured and when you get it all hot and bothered it rises.”

“You know this is serious stuff.” He chuckles the left side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

“I know.” You smile, your cheek coming to rest on his shoulder as he continues to beat the dough with the heel of his hands. “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours that’s made you crack out that apron for the first time in five years.”

“I thought I lost you Faye.” He tells you, his kneading becoming more aggressive. “For three hours I was convinced the love of my life was dead and it fucked with me. Sometimes I wake up and I have to check you’re still breathing because this world without you…”

He trails off but you get the picture. He would have stepped right off that roof after his shift with absolutely no hesitation.

“This is my way of working through that, of coming to terms with what happened in a healthy way.”

You duck underneath his arm, placing yourself within the confines of his body, your back against his chest, your hands coming to rest alongside his on top of the dough.

“Will you teach me?” You request. His grizzled cheek comes to rest against yours as his fingers slips into the grooves between your knuckles, forcing your palms into the dough, massaging it.

“Remember that thing I said before about you and bread?” You murmur as his lips brush over your jaw, his hips slotting perfectly against yours. “Well I can feel it rising.”

“I told you it’s chemistry, physicality and mindfulness all rolled into one.” He whispers, grinding against you so you can feel him there, hard, heavy, wanting. “You wanted to know the reason I haven’t had to do this in five years? It’s was you Faye. I don’t need the bread when I have you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cloudedangels]

Extended Leave ♡ Part 3 (18+)

📖Part One ■ Part Two📖

▪ Fem!Caleb x Fem!Reader ▪ AU ▪ 18+ ▪ minors pls do not interact ▪ part 3 of my Extended Leave series ▪︎ 3,486 words

Fem!Caleb watches you across the couch with a book she isn't reading. You pretend you’re not unraveling just being looked at. Later, there's sake, a booth, confessions that go too far—and when the buzz wears off and the ache settles in, you open her gift. Everything's unraveling more than either of you thought.

cw/tags: fem!Caleb, fem!reader, AU, pilot!caleb, childhood friends to this messy almost-love, slow burn, domestic intimacy, tension and tenderness, soft butch x soft femme, mutual pining, emotional repression, unspoken feelings, pining gone feral, watching/listening, voyeurism (non-explicit), soft dom!Caleb, sapphic romance, masturbation, mutual obsession, quiet intensity, sex toys, emotional intimacy, yearning, flirting, sapphic angst, drunk confessions trope, possessive energy, low-key yandere, jealousy, you might match Caleb's freak lowkey o.0

🎧Fic Playlist Here 🎧

The rest of the day passes in that slow, sticky, too-quiet way that makes time feel stuffy, like someone lined the minutes with cotton. Nothing happens, exactly. And somehow that makes everything worse.

You eat lunch together, but the easy banter from earlier has dissolved. Caleb makes miso-glazed tofu and a cold noodle salad, serves it without you asking.

“Remember to take a break, pips. You'll get a headache.”

You thank her, mumble a promise. When she smiles, the silence between you is delicate, like a curtain. Not thick enough to be distance, not light enough to be ignored.

You file reports on your laptop, half-reading, half-thinking. She lounges on the couch with a book you recognize from your own shelf. One of the old ones she used to tease you for liking. She doesn’t tease you now. She’s been turning the same page for fifteen minutes. You can tell, but the feeling in your throat is too thick to tease her.

Her playfulness from the morning has vanished. What’s left is something more subdued, more... careful. Measured.

It almost upsets you. Not because she’s cold, Caleb could never be cold. But because you can feel the shift in her posture. The restraint. Like she’s pulled back just enough to let you choose how close she gets.

Ball in your court. Reins in your hands. It should feel like control. It doesn’t.

You catch her watching you once, gaze flicking up from the book like she forgot herself for a second. She looks away too fast. Your chest tugs with a heat that isn’t quite shame and isn’t quite yearning. You don’t know what to do with it.

She still does her small things.

Your water glass never empties. Your tea is swapped out twice—steamed and sweetened just the way you like. When you leave the room, she folds the blanket you left on the chair and tucks your charger back into the outlet without comment.

It’s so sweet it makes your stomach ache.

You tell yourself not to think about last night. Or this morning. Your underwear. Her sweat glistened abs underneath you. The bag she told you she needed to be gone for you to open.

But you don’t even make it to dinner before the curiosity boils over.

You don't say anything as you get up from your dining room table, even when you see her glance up on your way to your bedroom. The pink gift bag is still on your dresser.

You stare at it for a while. As if it might vanish if you just wait long enough. As if not touching it might make this day go back to normal.

It doesn’t.

You pull it into your lap. It rustles softly. You open it.

Inside: pink tissue paper.

You unwrap it quietly, even though the quiet rustle is likely enough for her to hear you.

Then, revealed: A little blue vibrator, neat and tucked inside like a secret, a sweet egg in its nest.

And next to it rests a note. Folded once, handwriting familiar and annoyingly soft.

hi pips,

I hope I didn't make you feel bad for having needs.

you don’t have to be embarrassed just because I'm here.

hope this helps.

♡ caleb

Your ears burn. You fold it back up. You tuck everything deep in your drawer like you’re hiding a crime. Like she can hear it.

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes and groan, quietly.

She’s giving you space. Letting you choose. She’s being good. Giving any and every tool to accept or deny, when you hardly know what is being offered anyway.

This is how she does things: she tears everything down in just a moment, leaves, and returns, new walls, a locked door and the key to unlock it pressed to your palm.

It feels unbearable.

You take a breath and head back to the living room, your skin buzzing, your stomach full of butterflies, the quiet seeping into your pores. Caleb hasn't moved, but there's no telling if she even turned the page.

“Caleb, I feel cooped up. The house is stuffy today,” you blurt out, standing awkwardly next to the couch.

She dog ears her page, shutting the con closed in a quick, fluid motion. Then she's looking at you with those violet eyes, full attention and bottled care. It's the same look she always gives you, the one that says, ‘Whatever is wrong I will fix it, it doesn't matter what it takes.’

“Do you want me to take you somewhere, or are you gonna head out alone? I can drive. We can go somewhere with music. There's that place with the bar and the hot pot. The one worth the live music?”

You sigh a small relief at the concept of drink and noise. Maybe that's what you need to stop getting swallowed by the things stirring restlessly inside of you like a cyclone.

“Yeah, let's go there!” you try to sound less nervous than you are, but you're sure that you don't.

The drive is short, the radio in Caleb's truck fading into the car sounds. You sneak looks at her in your peripheral, abs and muscle tee, ponytail and focus. You're not sure if she's always looked like this to you. But the warmth in your belly says maybe you’ve been looking away too long.

She taps the steering wheel at red lights, leans into her elbow like she owns the truck and the night and whatever it is that’s starting to stir in your chest. When she glances over at you, just once, soft, careful, you don’t look away fast enough.

“You okay?” Her voice is gentle, but her eyes flicker with concern. Maybe she's reading too much into your silence. Maybe she always has. She's always read you, line by line until she can recite you back to yourself.

You nod. Then shake your head.

“Just... nervous.”

Her brow creases, “About what?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Swallow.

“Dunno. Being out. With you. Like this.”

Her lips twitch. It's not a smirk, not a smile. Just something caught between understanding and wanting.

“You’ve been out with me a hundred times, pips”

“Yeah,” you say, “but I was younger then.”

You don't say ‘and things were different.’

She has an expression you can't quite identify when she says, “I guess I've been gone a while, but I'm still your Caleb. You can relax with me, I promise.”

☆☆☆☆☆

The restaurant is the perfect kind of loud. The live band is playing something resembling math rock. The lead singer is a woman whose voice sounds constantly on the verge of tears. The lights are dim and the smell of the hot pot reminds you just how hungry you are. You relax into the atmosphere involuntarily, quietly thrilled to be outside the house.

You slide into the booth across from Caleb, who surveys the space with a half-interested glance, then looks back at you. You’ve only just sat down, but she’s already watching. Already checking for signs of unease, like it’s muscle memory.

The server brings water. You order sake. She just asks for tea.

“Not drinking?” you ask, and it comes out breezier than you feel.

Caleb shrugs. “Driving. Watching you. Figured I should keep my head clear.”

There’s that word again. Watching.

You should let it go. You don’t.

“Why’re you always watching me?” you ask, low and curious. Not accusing. Not quite.

Her eyes don’t flinch. She leans her elbows on the table, fingers interlaced.

“You’ve always needed someone to,” she says simply.

You look down, embarrassed and something else. Something too soft to name.

The server comes back, and you bury your face in the menu like it might shield you. Caleb orders for both of you, like she always used to. Like she never stopped remembering what you like. She asks the server to make the broth mild, the meat thin, the noodles chewy. She adds egg for you without asking.

When the sake comes, you drink too fast. Your cheeks bloom warm. It’s easier to talk when the table’s full of steam and clatter. Pour another shot into the little ceramic cup.

You lean back, cup in hand, and tilt your head just so. Watching her watch you.

“You think they think you’re my girlfriend?” you ask, nodding toward the band. Toward a table of strangers. Anywhere but her.

She doesn’t respond right away. She doesn’t smile either.

“I don’t care what they think,” she says finally.

You swirl the sake in the cup, sip, then gulp. Pour again.

“Do you care what I think?”

Now she looks up.

Her gaze holds steady. You have seen this same look a thousand times: quiet, dark, slow as a flood. It hits you like déjà vu.

“I’ve only ever cared what you think, y/n.”

You flush, but you don't say anything to that. You can't. Then food comes, and you thank the universe for rescuing you with an excuse to shut up. Even still the heat in your face doesn’t go away. It rolls low in your belly, buzzed and twirling. The sake is warm in your throat, loosening something that had been wound tight all day. You swallow another mouthful, laugh too loud at something the band says between songs. Caleb smiles, soft and patient. Looking at you like she won a prize but needs to stay humble.

You lean your cheek against your palm, elbow propped on the table. The edge of the table bites into your forearm, grounding. You look at her. Really look at her.

“You always do that,” you say, voice low. “Say something ridiculous and brave and then pretend it didn’t knock the air out of me.”

Caleb blinks, the smile faltering just enough to let a flicker of confusion, or maybe caution, show through. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” you cut in. “That’s the worst part.”

You pour another shot. Your fingers are a little shaky now, not from nerves, just... too much everything.

“What if I told you I used to think about kissing you?” you ask suddenly, watching her over the rim of your little cup. “When we were kids. Like, all the time. On the bus. At sleepovers. When you fell asleep first. You’d drool and I’d still think about it.”

The table goes quiet between you. Not awkward this time. It's electric. Thrumming with something underneath the tight surface.

Caleb doesn’t look away. But her throat bobs with a swallow. Her fingers curl tight around her teacup.

“I’d say that I know,” she murmurs. “But I didn’t want to make you feel weird.”

You snort, a little bitter, a little unconvinced. “Too late for that.”

Her face twists a little, the tops of her ears red. She shoves beef into her mouth with her chopsticks, unable to look at you.

“Remember when we pretended to date?” You ask her, taking another sip of sake.

“Yeah, it got people to leave us alone.”

“You were so convincing it almost felt real. It was so silly. You'd hold my hand, and I'd walk around like a star in your varsity jacket. MVP's Girl. No one messed with me then, no more bullies… people still tried to flirt with you though,” you recall it all in a spilling of memory.

She laughs softly, like she doesn’t trust it.

“Yeah, until you gave them that fucking look. You're so lucky looks don't kill, you'd have been a serial killer on death row.”

That makes you laugh, and before you know it, words are tumbling out of your mouth, half-babble and half-confession.

“I watched you before you watched me, you know. I wanted you to myself. Selfish little mei mei, the greediest girl in the world. Everyone has always worshipped you. You're perfect. You always were. I'd call you whatever just to keep you in my orbit, Caleb. I didn't care.”

Caleb blinks at you, staring you in the face like you slapped her. The look only lasts a second before she shakes her head and looks down at her bowl.

“Pipsqueak, I think you're—”

And then it hits you. The room is spinning, the sounds submerged like you're underwater, the waves of nausea.

“Jie jie, I feel sick… Caleb, I mean… fuck…”

It's like she's next to you before you can even blink, sliding into the booth.

“Shhh, it's okay, baby, let's get you home, okay? I'll take care of you.” She waves the server over for a check, arm strong around you, pulling you into her chest.

You're too sick for the petname to sink into you the way it could. Should.

The time between being in the booth and in her car is a blur. Her right hand is on your thigh, she's moved the seat back. She has a hand gripping the wheel as she drives, eyes steel on the road. The short drive feels long.

☆☆☆☆☆

The apartment is dim and quiet when you get back, shadows long across the floor from the hallway light Caleb switches on with her elbow. She doesn’t let go of you—not fully. Even as she helps you out of your shoes and guides you toward the bedroom like she’s done it a hundred times.

Your head lolls against her shoulder, the nausea subsiding just enough to let the warmth of her body register again. She moves with purpose, with care, saying nothing, only humming under her breath like she’s trying to soothe a scared animal.

You catch a whiff of her shampoo—sweet green apple. Something about it makes your eyes sting. You’re too sick to say thank you, and too drunk to pretend you don’t want to cry. Caleb doesn’t ask anything of you. She just holds you a little tighter as she steers you gently down the hall.

“Almost there, pips, almost ready for landing.”

You breathe a short laugh through your nose.

“Dork.” You whisper-moan it, tucking your head into her.

After laying you down onto your sheets, She tucks you in all too quietly. Tender fingers and whispered devotion. Sweetness and warmth. She leaves for a second, returning with antacids, a couple cups of water, and a couple ibuprofen.

“Drink this and take these, it'll help, okay?”

You grumble an agreement into the pillow.

“Good girl.” She whispers brushing your hair back with the back of her hand.

“I'm gonna sleep on the couch tonight, okay?”

Your brow furrows, “Why?”

“Call for me if you feel too sick alone, or if you need me to comfort you, I promise I'll come. You deserve your whole bed tonight.”

She leaves you there and you roll over to take the medicine and drink water before falling asleep.

☆☆☆☆☆

You wake up a few hours later, groggy, and restless. Alcohol worn off, but face still too hot. You almost call for Caleb, but something deep inside of you is against it. ‘She's probably asleep. I feel fine…’

You lie there, eyes to the ceiling. You try to will yourself to sleep to no avail. After a too-long / too-short period, you get up. Walk over to your dresser.

The gift bag sits where you left it, buried haphazardly beneath t-shirts. You stare at it for a moment like a person staring down at a bomb, before you pull the blue toy out of the bag, stumbling back into your bed.

It feels almost too heavy in your palm. You think about it in Caleb's hands, picked for you.

You shift under the covers, thighs still warm from sleep, the faint hum of discomfort still curling in your gut. Not pain. Something else. A pressure. A question.

You hesitate, thumb brushing the soft silicone. The little button gives under your touch with a quiet click.

It whirs to life.

You flinch. The sound is barely audible under your comforter, but it still feels loud. Still feels like a secret shouted. You glance toward the door, half-expecting Caleb to be standing there.

She’s not.

Still, you press the toy to your lips first, like a dare. Like you’re trying to understand it through your mouth, not your skin. It tastes like nothing. But it still feels like her.

Your free hand slips beneath the blanket. The other follows, the toy trailing after. You press it against your stomach first. Then your inner thigh. Testing. Pretending.

Then closer.

The first touch makes you gasp—not because it’s too much, but because it’s not enough.

You’re more wound-up than you thought. You’ve been holding this thread taut since the moment you saw the note. Since the moment Caleb handed you the reins.

It’s slow at first. Press, release. Trace. Tease. You don’t want to rush. You don’t even want to come. Not really.

You want to feel something that makes this real. That makes you understand the shape of her attention. The way she sees you. The way she’s always seen you.

You let the vibrator rest against you. Not inside, just over your panties. You hum into your pillow.

Your hips rock once, almost involuntarily.

You think about her fingers brushing your hair back earlier. The back of her hand, soft at your cheek. The way she’d said good girl like it meant something. Like it had always been true.

Your breath shudders.

You slide the fabric aside.

The vibrator is slick now. So are you. You press it closer, let your legs fall apart.

A soft, unsteady moan slips out. Quieter than your breath, but heavy enough to feel sinful.

You’re not thinking anymore. Just moving.

The sound of the vibrator seems to fade behind the rushing pulse in your ears, behind the memory of her voice, the feeling of her arms steady around you in the booth, her jaw against your temple, her breath whispering ‘baby’, her body under yours this morning, her sweat-soaked body.

You bite your lip and tilt your hips, your whole body seeking something more. Something deeper.

The pressure builds too fast. Or maybe you’ve been on the edge for days. Weeks. Years. You’re not sure if you come with her name in your mouth, or just moan dedicated to the thought of her. But you come hard. And a moan escaping your lips.

And when it’s over, you don’t cry. You thought you would. It settles in you, warming through your skin.

You just lie there, heart beating so loud you think it might shake the ceiling. The toy is still humming, faint against your thigh.

You switch it off. And everything feels too quiet. You toss it into the drawer of your nightstand, too tired to move to the dresser again. Too tired to stay awake and sit with what you've just done. You give in to sleep, for real this time. The sheets still smell like Caleb's sleeping in them.

☆☆☆☆☆

Caleb never made it to the couch. Her head tilted back against the wall next to your door, outside your bedroom. Her knees were up, a pillow against her chest like a knight's shield.

“Just making sure she's okay,” she muttered to herself. A lie that didn’t even convince herself. She was waiting for you to call for her, to need her so that she could release her self-imposed restraint and control.

She sat there for an hour, maybe two, eyes closed. Not resting or sleeping, but not moving either. Then she heard you moving around. She sat up, waiting for you to call her name, even just once. ‘I'm giving her space, if I want her to want me she needs to think I'm giving her space…’

You didn't call out for her. Not like that. She heard you move around, the opening of your drawer…

Then the rustle of tissue paper.

Her breathing stilled, her hand a tighter fist next to her, knuckles pale, nails digging into her palms.

Then the sounds came. The low hum of vibration, your whimpers. They were more desperate than the night before in the shower, noisier. She debated getting up and going to the couch when she heard it, so quiet she could've imagined it.

“Caleb…”

You moaning her name. Her eyes screwed shut as tight as they could, with her hand flying over her mouth to stop the choked sound she almost made. When she heard her name a second time, barely audible and desperately whimpered, something in her ribs shifted. Her palm pressed harder over her mouth. The other hand… curled into the pillow, as she grew warm between her legs. Shaking.

She didn’t let herself come or let herself knock on the door.

She waited. Quiet until your room was too. Then she stood, quietly walking to the couch, laughing down with the pillow clutched tightly in her arms. Any hope for sleep was gone with the strength to pretend for much longer.

Tags 🏷: @chewbrry @grlpartdoll @jetterdonna @starryeyed-apple

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series lmk in comments or reblogs! (Must have age in bio)

[cantstoptheimagines]

Their Reaction to You Losing an Eye

Summary — Preferences for Atreus, Kratos, and Thor from God of War!

Requested by @nickeverdeen — Hey there! Can I please ask for hcs with either God Of War or Horizon Zero Dawn characters with a reader who lost their eye and is insecure about it? If for God Of War then pls hcs with: Kratos, Atreus (older or young is up to you) If Horizon Zero Dawn then pls hcs with: Aloy, Talanah (you don’t have to do Talanah if you don’t wanna) Also pls let me know if you’re uncomfortable with the request Take time and care about yourself ❤️

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Depictions, discussions, and mentions of severe injuries (losing an eye, fainting as a result of pain); canon-typical violence; envisioned Ragnarök!Atreus for this work; I tossed Thor into this request because he’s my husband.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 433. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ I recently met T.C. Carson, who was the original voice for Kratos in the God of War series, after which I ran to write this request (even though it’s intended for Christopher Judge’s version)!

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

atreus

in all honesty, he wouldn’t quite know how to act. his emotions would be all over the place, tears streaming down his face as his father and freya tried to help you. the coverings on your face are soaked in your own blood. “don’t leave,” muttered atreus. he finds himself kneeling by your side as he pleads with you, one of your weak hands held tightly in both of his, “please don’t go.” but his newly discovered godly abilities are still out of sorts. his sadness quickly shifts to anger at those who caused you harm. his wrath is unlike anything the world has ever seen. he won’t stop until you, his dearest companion, is properly avenged, so don’t be surprised if he returns with your attacker’s head.

kratos

this man does not hesitate. in mere seconds, kratos is lifting you into his arms and calling out for someone, anyone, who can help. he avoids looking at the blood that decorates the place where your eye should be. “i lost faye,” he mutters. “i won’t let you go as well. stay awake!” everything is a blur. whatever vision you have left is slowly turning to gray as a sudden wave of tiredness overtakes your body. the pain of it all is settling deep into your bones. as kratos’s muffled voice calls out for you in a panicked tone, you allow unconsciousness to take over, and the world finally fades into darkness.

thor

he breathes heavily, staring down at heimdall with such rage that the golden-eyed god realized he was experiencing fear for possibly the first time in his life. a gentle touch on his arm, however, tears thor’s focus away from his father’s devotee. his eyes drop to the deep scar on your face — a new habit he’d developed recently — before they drifted to meet your lone eye. heimdall scurries away at the same time thor’s fingertips graze your cheek.  “why do you keep me from tearing him apart?” whispered thor. “he needs to be punished for what he’s done to you.” a sharp inhale came from him when your touch caressed his strong chest, exactly where his heart lay beneath his skin. he was quick to let his rough palm overlap your gentle hand. “heimdall is a fool,” you replied in the same quiet tone he had been using. “why waste your days threatening him when you could be with me instead? his punishment will come when the time is right.” he was only convinced when you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. perhaps, for now, he could set revenge aside.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 6

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

As unsurprised as you were when Faye shunned you, you’re even less put off by her sudden reappearance. She does this. There was a whole month in high school when suddenly she was too busy trying to fit in with the local Regina George and her minions. You know she only came back then because she had to work to impress them. 

You’re not insulted. You know who and what you are, even without her father reminding you. You reread the text, tempted to hit those three dots and tap gleefully press ‘block’. You’re still friends, even if she can be a shitty one. You care about her.  

‘Can we meet?’ 

You already have your response typed in; ‘where?’ You’ve been trying to send it for the last hour. Something keeps you from push your thumb against that arrow. Is it worth it this time? 

Before you can think too much, your phone vibrates again. Almost as if she can sense your doubt. ‘Please. It’s serious.’ 

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck. As if you don’t have enough to deal with. 

You send the text and grab your bag. The kids are already asleep, your mom’s here, probably sleeping too. You hurry to the door without a response. This is it. The last time. You’re going to tell Faye exactly that. Next time she can call her dad. You don’t need the trouble. Besides, she’s doing all this to piss him off, it has nothing to do with you. 

You put your shoes on and leave as quietly as you can, double checking the locks behind you. You stomp down the front walk as the streetlights shine down and head down towards the bus stop. Your phone shakes. What the hell? 

At least it’s close. You read the address again. You know it. Two blocks away on Wilmington; dealer district. This isn’t good. 

You put your chin down and set your eyes ahead of you. Don’t look at anyone, just keep going. You sling your purse around your body, keeping your hand on it. You have your phone firmly in the other. 

Wilmington. Even your mother has enough sense to warn you against going around there. You head down and count the numbers from the corner of your eye. You slow as you near the house in question. What do you do? Knock on the door? You don’t know if that’s a great idea. Looks like a flop house. 

You hear your name and a shadow ripples on the crooked porch. You look up as a dark figure staggers to  the top of the steps. Faye looks willowy and drawn out as the moonlight hits her skin. The skin around her eyes baggy and discolored and she’s wearing the same outfit she wore to the club. 

“What the hell?” You hiss as you march forward. She stumbles down the stairs and you barely catch her, “Faye?” 

“I’m sorry. I was scared,” she murmurs as she latches onto you, “you gotta help me.” 

She reeks, she’s shaking, and she’s slurring her words. 

“Are you high?” You whisper at you hold her at arm’s length. 

“Not anymore,” she sniffles, “please, my head is killing me.” 

“What the fuck?!” You barely keep from shrieking, “how-- why the fuck would you do that?” 

“That guy... we were just snorting a little and then... I don’t know. I can’t remember.” 

“Faye,” you whine, “are you out of your mind?” 

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t...” she shakes her head and her voice drifts off, her frazzled eyes dimming, “I don’t know...” 

She scratches her arm and you notice the scabbing there. You sigh and shake your head. You’re so tired of this. As if you don’t have enough to deal with at home with three siblings. Faye isn’t your problem, she won’t be after this. 

“Fine. I’ll take you home. Your dad can deal with you--” 

“No, please. You can’t,” she pleads and grabs you again, “I can’t-- He’ll kill me.” 

“Faye, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I don’t have anywhere else to take you.” 

“I’ll stay in your room--” 

“No,” you say bluntly, “I have work and my siblings can’t be around you like this.” 

“Why are you being so mean?” She whines. 

You grit your teeth and look around as you hear voices from unseen mouths. You exhale and grab her wrist, dragging her hand from your arm. 

“Let’s get out of here first,” you turn and tug her after you. “Fucking Wilmington? Wilmington?” 

“Please, don’t be mad,” she snivels, “my dad’s gonna lose it if he knows. I need you. I need you to be nice--” 

“I need you to stop fucking me around,” you snarl, “don’t you understand? Every dumb shit decision you make her brings down on me?” 

“Huh?” She staggers heavily in her dirty wedges. 

“Your fucking dad. Thinks he rules the whole damn world. And who is he gonna blame for this? You’re in my neighbourhood. You think I want to deal with him?” 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. 

“You’re not,” you insist, “this is the last fucking time.” 

“Please--” 

“No, Faye,” you spin on her as you turn off of Wilmington. You have to keep yourself from shoving her, instead letting her go and throwing up your hands. “You have everything. You get to go back to school, you get to go home to your nice little suburban castle, you get to have your dad pay for it all. I have to go work at the goddamn grocery store and watch my life spin down the fucking sewer. I get to lay awake at night and worry if my siblings are gonna end up over here or if my mom’s going to come home at all when I haven’t seen her in two weeks!” 

You ball your hands to fists, overwhelmed by the eruption of repressed emotions, “you get to smile and cry and get out of it all.” 

“I...” she breathes, “I... didn’t know--” 

“You never cared. Never listened,” you drops your arms and slump. “Go and live your life. Live it up in college, move somewhere nice, get married, do all that fun shit. I’ll stay. I don’t get that choice.” 

The roll of tires near as you stand in tense silence. Faye mopes and hangs her head, swaying and scratching, “can I just stay one night?” She whispers. 

You sigh again. 

You sense a car draw up to the curb. Great, some jackass thinks you’re a street walker. You’re ready to tell him to fuck off but swallow the sneer. You could still say so. 

Walter steps out on the other side of the car, “Faye,” he snarls. 

“See,” you turn to her again, “don’t you realise who he’s going to blame now?” You face the man’s broad shadow, “don’t worry, Mr. Marshall, I was just telling her to go home and never come back. You win. I quit.” 

“Both of you, get in,” he growls. 

You scoff and Faye cowers behind you, “daddy--” 

“Faye, just go,” you try to nudge her ahead of you, “I have to go home.” 

“I said both,” Walter stomps around and rips open the back door. “In.” 

“Here, she can go--” you urge Faye towards the backseat as she fights weakly.  

As you push her head down and she surrenders, curling onto the seat, you’re shoved from behind. You barely keep from hitting your brow on the metal and throw your arm back at Walter. He catches your wrist and twists your arm behind you. 

“It’s late. I’m on duty. I can’t leave you here,” he insists. 

“What do you care?” You hiss and fight him. 

“Don’t make me get the cuffs.” 

You recoil at his threat and fall inside the car. You turn back to sneer at him but his face in covered in black shadow. Your nostrils flare and you shake your head. You bite down on a million insults and pull your legs inside. 

Once he has Faye safe, you’ll figure a way out. 

[curdled-blood]

*an ancient creature arises from the ground, now covered in bits of dirt. It just sits up and glares at you through bits of dangling moss*

Do you mind >:(

... *looks around*

... *unholy screeching*

[colettebronte]

She Rings Like a Bell Through the Night: Chapter 5

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Pairing: Vampire!Anthony Bridgerton x Witch!fem Reader

Summary: The Protector offers a way for The Witch to get what she desires most and shares his past with her

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ for the overall fic. Specific to this chapter: not much aside from an Anthony Bridgerton-appropriate angsty back story, shaky vampire lore, and brief, non-graphic discussions of blood drinking

Minors DNI. I will put this up on Ao3 so please do not repost my work elsewhere

Author’s Note: So the time has come to reveal The Protector’s backstory. Please do enjoy! Thank you as always to @fayes-fics for betaing 🫶❤️

The Wee Small Hours of the Morning, Somewhere in Rural England, 1695

“What I truly desire is to have more time.”

For a long moment, your words hang between you as Anthony goes still, your hands still held gently in his. However, he looks away, avoiding your gaze.

“I won’t turn you,” he whispers, emphatic, his eyes firmly on the sheets under you. “It’s one thing to be born a vampire, but I refuse to subject you to the agonizing process of making you into one of us.”

You release his hands and reach over to tip his face up until his eyes once again meet yours. When you have his full attention you say, “It’s all right, truly. I know what I desire is not possible. You merely asked me what I wanted most and that is my honest answer. In truth, I don’t think I have the fortitude to be a vampire.”

Anthony huffs a quiet laugh. “You are far stronger than you think.” He reaches out and tenderly touches your pendant and again, you feel a jolt as his magic mixes with yours. He stares at the pendant for a moment and then he looks back up at you, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “There is a way for me to give you what you desire most, without having to turn you, although you may find it unpleasant.”

You sit back against the pillows and take one of his warm hands in yours. “Unpleasant how, exactly?”

Anthony moves to sit beside you. “I can extend your life, but you would need to take some of my essence,” he adds, “You will need to drink my blood.”

You stare at him wide-eyed, feeling both horrified and despite yourself,  intrigued. “How . . . how much of your blood would I need to consume?”

Anthony reaches out to rub his fingers over your pulse point, “Now that you’ve allowed me to drink from you and magnified my power, it shouldn’t take more than a few sips to extend your life,” Anthony pauses to run soothing circles over your wrist before answering the questions swirling in your mind, “No, you won’t crave blood. You will still have to consume food as usual. Yes, you can go out in daylight; the sun shall have no effect on you.” He reaches up to cup your cheek and you can’t help pressing a kiss into his palm as he finishes, “As for exactly how many years your life will be extended, well, once infused with my blood, your lifespan will be nearly infinite.”

You pull back from him in surprise. “Nearly infinite?”

Anthony nods. “Though you’ll be set free from disease and the ravages of time, your life is still precious. Accidents can happen.” He turns away from you to murmur, “And things that are not accidents.”

Something cold settles in your stomach as you process this and his earlier words. Anthony was born a vampire and he once lived in the village with his family. The cottage, while small, has an array of furniture, far more than what one person needs. In addition, you had noted many shut doors when you descended the stairs to enter Anthony’s room. 

You take another moment to recall the history of the village. Lord Edmund Bridgerton, the founder, had a large family. Eight sons and daughters in addition to his wife. How did it take you this long to figure out that Anthony isn’t merely his descendant but rather, one of his sons? 

You reach out to take his hand but he flinches away before slowly reaching back to take it. You gently tug on his hand until he turns back to look at you. When you have his full attention you say, “The Elders tell a story about how one day a fire swept through the village and Lord Edmund saved many lives before it ultimately took his.”

Anthony huffs a bitter laugh. “That story is a very neat little tale, but it leaves out most of the truth.” He swallows thickly and you give his hand an encouraging squeeze as he continues, “By nature, my kind are wanderers, never staying in one place for any extended period of time, for reasons I’m sure you can understand. My father was the very best of men and he and my mother wanted a place to call home so he founded the village. I was just a child then, but soon after, they decided to expand our family. Others came to the village and it grew and prospered. We were happy for many years. But my kind ages slowly and one day strangers came to stay in the village and grew suspicious. One night, they attacked my father, which started a fire that set the whole village ablaze. My father ordered me to get my family out and not come back for him,” he breaks off with a choked sob. You pull him into your arms as his body shakes.

Knowing this man as you do, you surmise, “You went back for him though, didn’t you?”

You feel Anthony nod against your shoulder. “After I got my siblings and my mother, who was heavy with child, settled in here, I did go back the next night. The fire was out but the village was still smoking, with the remaining villagers encamped by the lake. I found the bodies of the ones who attacked my father consumed by the fire along with him. Though still young myself, I  cast a spell around the village, protecting it from the outside world and its hateful influence. Those left behind didn’t know what truly happened, so I spun a story that over time, turned into the one you’ve been told, alongside the tale of The Protector.

You don’t want to tell him that the village has become hateful all on its own and that outside influence would be a vast improvement. You shake off your bitterness and tend to the man in your arms, asking, “And what of the rest of your family?”

Anthony sits back to look at you, “We stayed here together until my mother gave birth to my youngest sister. We then decided it was for the best that we separated into small groups. My mother went with the baby and my youngest brother, still just a child himself. My three other sisters left together as did my two remaining brothers. I chose to stay behind to keep up the protective barrier around the village.”

You brush away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs. “Anthony, I am so sorry for all you’ve endured.”

He heaves a deep breath and forces a bitter smile. “Thank you, My Heart. At least I am comforted by the knowledge that the rest of my family is safe, far away from here.”

He stands up and pulls a robe out of the wardrobe and then goes to the trousseau in the corner and after rummaging around, takes one out for you. Though the style is old, it’s soft and smells vaguely of wildflowers as you put it on. Anthony ties the sash around his waist and then rejoins you on the bed. 

Anthony brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Thank you for listening, my sweet, clever witch. I’ve never discussed this with anyone before now.”

A warm feeling cracks in your chest. “Thank you for trusting me,” you murmur. You glance down at your pendant and silently vow to rewrite the entry in your Book of Shadows about vampires. Taking a steadying breath, you look back at Anthony. “I’m ready,” you tell him. He merely raises an eyebrow when you add, “I want to have some of your essence.” When he continues to stare at you, you grasp your pendant and reiterate your point, “I’m ready to drink your blood.”

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taglist: @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @faye-tale @cosmiclove330 @abridgerton @fiction-is-life @kmc1989 @alexandrainlove @ietss @multi-fandom-lover7667 @turtle-cant-communicate @liliac-dreamer @hottytoddyhistory @laniec03 @sky0401 @queenofmean14 @jtheteenagewitch

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Five

Chapter Five: A Biting Truth

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: You and Walter talk about some things, you listen to a voicemail, and then talk a little more.

Warnings: anxiety, fluffy moments, mentioned smut, a lot of shirtlessness in this chapter, spicy late-night texting (not sexting technically)

A/N: Thank you all for being hella patient with me as I worked on my mental health. It has only been a month but I feel tons better already. I hope you enjoy this one. A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. 

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The tension in your muscles wakes you up. You had quite a night but you weren’t exactly upset about it. Stretching out your arms, you reach over to find the space next to you is empty and cold.

The last time you checked, there was a sleeping werewolf in bed with you. Now, there is just a wrinkled set of bedding that only serves to get your brain working double-time.

Did he leave? Were you too much for him? Did he change his mind about needing to care for you?

You pull the covers off you and sit up only to feel light-headed. Your senses dull and return to you tenfold, the smell of coffee invading your nostrils and giving you hope. 

You tiptoe out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up. Splashing water on your face, brushing your teeth, and doing something quick with your hair has you feeling a bit better about the sight that first greeted you in the mirror. You tiptoe back into your bedroom and pull on some sleep shorts, an old t-shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks.

This totally looks like I just ‘woke up like this’, you think to yourself.

Making your way downstairs, you are greeted at the bottom of the stairs by a shirtless Walter holding a fresh mug of coffee in one hand. He hands you the mug and kisses your forehead.

“Bacon and eggs are almost ready. I hope you don’t mind me raiding your fridge. I was starved and I figured you would be too. And there is more coffee where that came from,” he says, smiling down at your surprised face.

You suddenly smell the bacon and your stomach grumbles, as if on cue. Walter laughs and ushers you to sit down at your dining table. He soon brings out two plates of scrambled eggs with cheese alongside bacon. Setting your plate in front of you, he takes your mug and refreshes your coffee and you enjoy the view of his ample ass as he walks away.

Once seated again, Walter opens up to you. “I’d like you to know a couple of things about me. Maybe should have told you these before we… you know. But, better late than never, right?”

You nod silently while picking up a slice of bacon and taking a bite to keep your mouth occupied.

“Right, well. I have a daughter and an ex-wife. They’re with my old pack. Faye, that’s my daughter. I miss her so much. We talk on the phone every week but I know her first shift is coming soon. I can feel it. Angie, her mother, and my ex-wife takes great care of her. I know that. But I wish I could do more. I had to leave the pack, though, because I disagreed with the Alpha. Well, less of a disagreement and more of a fight where I almost killed him. I didn’t want to kill him so instead I left. My best friend Jace, another pack member, is keeping an eye on Faye and Ang,” he peeks up at your eyes for a moment before continuing, “I just didn’t want to keep that from you. You deserve to know what you’re getting involved with.” He sits back and looks into your eyes for some kind of acceptance.

You reach over the table, putting your hand in Walter’s before speaking up. “Thank you for telling me, Wolfie. I appreciate you bringing me in on what you’re dealing with. It can’t be easy missing your daughter like that,” you reassure him, knowing that it’s your turn to open up, “I told you a bit about my ex-fiance, James Syverson, but you should probably know that I was the one who broke off our engagement.”

Walter nods for you to continue.

“Our relationship was always pretty fast. We got together while he was home for a bit from active duty. And then, we were making plans to get married. I wasn’t upset about that because I thought he was ‘my Sy’, ya know? But then, everything came crashing down right before he was deployed again. He wanted to get me pregnant so badly. I wasn’t ready to be all alone with this little life inside of me that wouldn’t know their father until he came home.” 

Bad manners be damned, you pick up another slice of bacon and chew while you speak, “We just couldn’t see eye to eye on that and in the end, I gave him back his ring and told him that I didn’t want to be an Army wife and have our kids be without a father for the most part. I broke up with him just before he deployed and I still feel awful about it. But, I mean, he did expect me to fall in line and I’m just not a soldier. I had my own plans for how things were supposed to go and it was much slower than what he had in mind. That being said, it’s kind of funny that I met a werewolf less than a year later and after one night, he may have gotten me pregnant. Not exactly in my plans, but for some reason, I’m not afraid to see what happens. And that is new for me so all I ask for is a little patience.”

You sit back in your chair, looking down at your plate, half-eaten and surely cold by now. You feel overwhelmed after talking about Sy, you still feel like shit for not giving him what he wanted. For so long, you thought he was your everything. You wanted to make him happy, but you chose your own happiness in the end. And that had been the hardest decision that you had ever made.

You are still in your head when you register Walter kneeling at the side of your chair and turning you face him before he speaks to you. “Tell me what you need.”

You look down at him and smile, his bright eyes are focused on you and his hands are soothing at your waist. You reach your hands to his face, cradling his bearded jaw before leaning forward and kissing him sweetly. You lean your forehead against his and sigh.

“I just need you, Wolfie.”

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere, Pup.” He pulls you from your chair and into his lap so you wrap your arms and legs around him. Holding you tight to his chest, he shifts to sit cross-legged. You enjoy caressing his back while he sighs and kisses your neck. You can’t stop the mewl that escapes your lips at his tender touch.

You pull back and look into each other’s eyes, smiling and wondering if the other is thinking the same thing. 

Walter looks at his watch, looking back up to you with hopeful eyes. “I have about an hour before I need to get home and changed for work. How long do you have?”

“I don’t have to be in til 1. We’ve got time,” you offer, tangling a hand in his unruly curls.

Walter stands, holding onto you like a koala bear as he walks to and up the stairs. Getting to your bedroom, he sits down and lays back so you straddle his hips. As you lean up, taking off your shirt, his hands settle on your hips. You can feel how aroused you are for him as he guides your hips to glide over his clothed, yet hardening length.

And that is when your phone decides to ring.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “Are you serious?” You both speak at the same time and can’t help but laugh.

You reach over to your nightstand for your phone, picking it up to see Olivia’s smiling face greeting you. You answer it and sit back in Walter’s lap.

“Hey, Liv. What’s up?” You put a finger to your lips and Walter nods so you slowly grind your hips into his. Watching his brows furrow as you give him just enough friction to enjoy himself.

“Hey, girl. I was just checking up on you. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking it day by day, you know?” You place a hand on Walter’s abs and glide your fingers through his chest hair. Apparently, he is ticklish and he chuckles despite trying to be quiet.

“Girl...is that your mystery man? Tell him I said hey.”

“Olivia says hey, Walter,” you announce, to which he replies: “Hi, Liv.”

“Well, I won’t keep you. You enjoy yourself, girl. Lord knows you needed it. If he has any cute friends, keep me posted. Talk to you later. Bye, Walter!” 

“Bye,” You hang up, tossing your phone back on the nightstand before leaning forward to kiss the grin off of Walter’s face, “Now, where were we?”

He grips your hips and turns you both so he is on top. “I think we were right about here,” he coos, sitting back on his heels and pulling your shorts off, your socks following after. Keeping his jeans on, he slides them just slightly down his thighs.

He takes his time with you, listening to your body telling him what you need. He licks and nips at your neck. Grabbing at your legs, he pushes them back so he can go deeper. He holds on tight to his own orgasm until you have had two of your own. The only sounds in the room are his groans, your moans, and your shared breathing.

Once finished, you lay in bed cuddling until Walter checks his watch again and grumbles to himself. You watch as he gets out of bed and pulls his jeans back up. Grabbing a robe, you follow him down to your living room as he gathers the rest of his clothing.

He puts on his coat and turns to you, unsurprised that you are still watching him. He makes you promise to call him tonight after work. Leaning down, he pecks your lips and retreats a bit before you pull him back in for a steamier kiss. He smiles into it and you smile back.

You see him out and giggle again as you see that he actually did park on your lawn last night. He grimaces and ducks his head but you just scratch behind his ear and he is all smiles again. You watch until he is out of eyesight and then close the door so you can get ready for work.

Work is grueling for the first few hours. Well, one might say grueling, another might say it makes time go by faster. All you know is that you could use a break. Even though you quit smoking, you did miss the built-in ‘breaks’ that habit came with.

Once you sit in your car, you feel the stress of the last four hours ease off your shoulders. Though it lurks outside your car window, ready to jump back in place when you exit.

You scroll through your phone, replying to various emails and checking in with Liv. A notification pops up as a reminder to check your voicemail. Right, Sy had called and left you a message a day ago but you hadn’t opened it yet.

You navigate to the Phone icon, then to voicemail to see Sy’s unread alert. Pressing on the voicemail, you raise the phone to your ear and the message starts.

“Hey, Bug, it’s Sy...but of course, you knew that already. Caller ID, amirite? Anyway, uh, just wanted...wanted to say it was good seeing you today. Yer looking...good. Healthy. Jesus, I swear you’d think I was leaving a damn voicemail for the Queen or something. You remember you used to call me smooth, right? Not anymore, damnit. I just wanted to check in with you, ‘cause I went and got into a scuffle with a wolf out there in the woods. I’m fine, don’t you worry none. He got a couple nips in. But I got him right in the gut. The big bastard should be feeling that for the next few days at least. Hopefully, soon, we can put this wolf business behind us all. That’s all I had to say, I’m getting tired and you’re probably already in bed as it is. This damn message is getting too long, I think. Talk soon, bye now.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and pressed the button to repeat the voicemail. Yeah, you heard that correctly. Turns out Sy is the one who shot Walter.

And just to make this even a bit more complicated, Walter may have gone and given Sy a bite. A bite that may or may not turn him into a werewolf.

You sit in the driver’s seat and debate just driving home for the day, but you pull up your big girl panties and force yourself to finish your shift. You clocked out and changed before anyone knew what hit them, all but running back to your car to make it home. 

Your thoughts run from Sy to Walter and back again so many times, who do you call first? Your ex, who may be struggling through turning right now, OR your boyfriend who doesn’t yet know anything is wrong. Right.

Turning on your car, you let the heat warm up the vehicle while you turn back to your phone. Hitting Sy’s contact, your phone starts to dial him. Three rings and you were just about on the verge of driving out to his house when he picked up.

“Hmph...’lo?” Sy’s sleepy voice sounds downright melodious.

“Oh, my God. Sy, are you ok? I am so sorry I didn’t get your message until now and I had to make sure you were o–“

Sy cuts you off in his confusion. “Bug, it’s...after midnight. You just leaving work?”

“Yeeeeeah, shit. I am so sorry. I just had to make sure you were ok. Getting into fights with wolves and all that, ya know?” The heat permeating your face was enough to make you wish the Earth swallowed you up.

“Wouldn’t say I got into a fight with him. More like, he whooped my ass and I had to shoot him,” he snorts, clearing his throat before speaking again, “Go ‘head and drive home. We can talk while you drive. So you know I’m safe, and I know you’re safe.”

“Yeah, got it,” you pushed the Bluetooth button to take over the call so you could drive and talk at the same time.

The short drive from work to home was just long enough for Sy to reassure you that he was feeling just fine. You made him send you a picture of his bite after you got off the phone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he would send a fully shirtless pic of him in bed, barely zooming in on the wound on his hip. He looks really good.

The wound looks really good, you shut down whatever your brain decided to get stuck on and ask him for another closer pic. 

At least this time, you can only see half of his six-pack and much less of his happy trail. Thank God for small favors. You can see bruising around the bite, but it looks like it barely broke the skin. What does this mean for a werewolf bite? Who knows. But at least, he—the bite looks good.

You text him to keep you posted if he starts to feel feverish or anything, you can remember from movies and television that werewolves tend to feel feverish when they are changing. Is that accurate? Again, who knows?

But, you know who would know?

You respond with a wink face when Sy thanks you for checking up on him. He responds with his signature kissing heart wink face and you refuse to put any more thought into that shirtless man tonight. You shake your head and exit the messaging app to make a call.

One ring and he picks up, “Hey, Pup. You make it home ok? Just thought you were gonna call a bit ago.”

“Hi, Wolfie. Yeah, I made it home ok, baby. I just had quite a night and had to check in on a friend. I…had to check in on James. Seems you two have met. Uh, there’s no easy way to say this, baby–”

“Slow down, just start from the beginning.” Walter’s calm voice cuts you off and you just blurt everything out.

“You may have turned my ex into a werewolf. You bit him, and he shot you. So, can we freak out now or did you have a better time in mind?” You close your eyes, not sure what you were expecting him to say.

“Now is good, I think.”

Ok, I guess you could have predicted that.

To be continued...

A/N: Very sorry that this took about a month to get out, but my mental health was declining and I had to work on a few things.

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 If you are crossed out, tumblr won't let me tag you.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Hi! Could I request a Ganondorf x fairy reader? Reader has always followed Ganondorf throughout time, and they are able to shift from a small fairy form to a human size fairy form!

Hope you having a wonderful day!

-the fairy anon 🧚‍♀️

Well hello, fairy anon! Please allow this fairy of fiction to fulfill your request! ✨ (I'm gonna make you a Great Fairy, but not exactly like the ones from BotW/TotK - you'll see what I mean)

To the naked eye, the small, zipping ball of light could easily be mistaken for a sunset firefly. Skittering around the desert may have been a little strange, but not wholly uncommon. For these facts, you were very grateful. On your tiny wings you flitted through the very open windows of top floor Gerudo bedchamber. You half expected it to be empty, a plan in mind to simply wait and surprise the person you'd planned on visiting - but fate would have other plans in store for you.

"To what do I owe the honor of a Great Fairy at my humble abode?" His tone was a mix of curious and cocky, with just a touch of threatening. With a quick spin, sparkles surrounded your body - and suddenly were a normal, human size. Rattling your wings gently to relieve them of any excess sand that clung to you, you simply made a sound akin to an interested huff. Your long lashes lifted to allow your sweetheart eyes to connect with fiery amber ones,

"Just stopped by to visit an old friend is all..." painted lips turned up in a minxish smile, "But then again...we weren't always only 'just friends' were we...Ganondorf?"

The Gerudo chief eyes you with suspicion, his originally smug expression faltering to something untrusting. You have information he clearly doesn't - a weakness that he doesn't like having exploited. Still, he approaches you, standing tall and wide to loom over your smaller frame. A full head taller than you are is he, yet that does not move you from where you stand. Peering down at you his voice evens out to a tone you can't read, "You speak as though you know me, sprite - but I don't recall ever knowing you."

There's a bitter chuckle in your throat, though you swallow it down. This is always the part you hated the most. You bit back a few oncoming tears, trying desperately to shrug away the hurt that hits you every time you hear an iteration of those same words. Ganondorf watches your eyes grow a tad misty, his brows furrowing at your sudden shift from your initially playful demeanor. "Not yet you don't," your wavering voice whispers up to him. You don't give him time to react, kissing the tips of your fingers and pressing them lightly to his forehead. Immediately Ganondorf jumps back from you, his head beginning to pound as visions bombarded him at full velocity.

"YOU!" he barks, pain swimming in his head. His vision flashes, your faye visage totally different now - soft green vines envelope the length of your body. He remembers vividly the fountain he'd always frequent to find you. Remembers the way your long nails felt against his scalp when his hair was much, much shorter than it is. He recalls sealing you away in a rage, the evil inside of him unable to fathom why you'd help the very person meant to be his downfall.

His skull throbs again, and suddenly he feels a salty breeze upon his face. He sees your iridescent skin, revels in the memory of how smooth you were against his ruggedness. He remembers telling you how much he'd missed you, and how the sea was lonely, but punishment in the sacred realm just without your reach was far lonelier. It comes back to him the nights spent watching the waves with you, your long illustrious locks floating about against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Once more the rush of pain stabs at his head, his visions swiftly reconnecting to a darker world. One surrounded in a shroud of twilight and deep hues of the chaos he had caused. He has your soft face in the palm of his hand - you look so scared - and yet you clung to him. He remembers promising you a new world at his side, you choose not to hear it. You've done this before - though he does not know this. Your big eyes brim with tears, but he brushes them away before they can fall. His memory jogs as he hears you tell him you love him, your luminous, opalescent wings flittering as your heart does. Ganondorf remembers sealing his lips over your own, pinning you to the nearest wall and etching a love on your skin that has transcended the many lifetimes he's lived already with you.

Suddenly the pain stops.

Ganondorf heaves, realizing he's been brought to his knees from this ordeal. His large hand clutches his head, thick fingers weaving through his long scarlet locks. There's a struggle to catch his breath, but he ultimately does as he blinks the scattered memories back into the confines of his mind. Lifting his head, he sees your tearful expression with all the recognition in the world. His steadying hand drops to his knee - he picks himself up. Heavy, thudding footsteps make their way toward you slowly, and judging by his hardened, blank expression, you're a bit fearful for what the sudden onset of several lifetimes' worth of memories could have done to him so you brace yourself - ready to transform and leave at a moment's notice.

You shut your eyes as he's suddenly in front of you, only for them to open once more. His hand caresses your cheek with complete tenderness, "You..." comes his strained voice. When your eyes meet, you see it: him. The Ganondorf who has loved you through every version of him that's existed. You lean into his hand, crystalline tears rolling down the gentle curves of your face, "Me..." Ganondorf wastes no time claiming your lips. A kiss that you very enthusiastically meet him halfway with. Before you know it, your legs are scooped up and wrapped around his waist, all while his lips are still connected to yours.

At your brief parting, Ganondorf lends you a genuine smile. He rests his forehead against your collarbone.

"You always know how to find me, my love. Faye of my heart, you've come back to me."

Arms coming around his head, you embrace him tight to your chest, "No length of time, nor change of your looks would ever keep me from finding you."

And you always would. You had found love once...with him. It made you thankful that you were blessed with eternal life; because although Hylia would strike him down at all costs; though you knew of the evil he truly was deep down; though you were sure the goddess would curse you for the atrocity of laying with her enemy - you would love him every time.

[bullet-prooflove]

Off Limits: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagged: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @noxytopy @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Balance - Jack reveals his feelings for you but they come with complications.

You spend three glorious days in Jack’s bed during his concussion leave. Three days of being the entire focus of his attention, of having his hands roam all over your body, his mouth chasing over every inch of your skin. He loves you with a fierceness that rivals any other man, with an insatiable appetite that leaves you aching in all the right ways.

The problem is that all good things must come to an end and that’s exactly what happens when you leave his house that day to prepare for your shift.

The bubble the two of you have created, it bursts and he goes back to being Doctor Abbot and you return to Doctor Doran.

When you run into him in the parking lot of the hospital you don’t know what to say, how to act. Eight hours ago you had this man’s cock buried inside you as you pulled his hair so hard you made him see stars, now he’s back to being the consummate professional. His expression impassive as he scrolls through his phone. He falls into step alongside you and the tension, it’s palpable as you walk side by side.

“This is weird.” He mutters, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

“I’m sorry, it’s me.” You say softly. “I don’t know how to do casual, it’s gonna take me a minute to figure things out-”

He stops, his hand slipping into yours, tugging you to him.

“Faye, this isn’t casual for me. I don’t just jump into bed with people, I don’t…” He sighs as his thumb traces over your knuckles. “I’m not good at this, being with someone but I want to be… It’s just going to require a little time and a little patience.”

“Of which I have both.” You smile, your fingertips trailing over his grizzled cheek and his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “You know if we stay like this, people are going to start talking.”

“Let them.” He whispers, kissing your mouth with a tenderness you’ve never felt before him. “I want everyone to know you’re off limits from here on out.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[accio-victuuri]

i have been doing cpn posts here and there about wyb’s alleged song list and here is another one. i’m just gonna name it wyb’s playlist cpn from now on. so the explanation is, some people know wyb’s personal qq music account so if you follow him you can see what he has been listening to. i am not really familiar with the app so idk how the settings work if he can hide some. no one is saying how they found out about the account, which makes sense for privacy. in a similar way that some fans know zz/wyb’s gaming account till now. feel free to not believe it cause i understand that things like this can be sus & people on the internet tend to lie.

for me personally tho, i love this cause i think music really speaks of what someone is feeling. and you have wyb who is not exactly big on social media so we rarely know anything. aside from his now extensive movie list, his playlist is something that is interesting too. not necessarily cpn-wise all the time.

this post will cover golden hour & some recent eason chan tracks added. 🎶🎵

The first one is GOLDEN HOUR which was used in ZZ’s vlog in Milan. It was a pretty popular song back then but it became more know because of ZZ’s post and even the singer reacted to it. Since then, it’s been a favorite among BXGs considering the meaning of it too.

This is what WYB’s playlist looked like on 3/28/23 People who follow said he hasn’t updated it for a week and then suddenly this track is added in. A piano version of Golden Hour. They say WYB usually adds relaxing music like piano tracks and some of nature, but not often. So it’s interesting how this one was added. At the time, they just don’t know the relevance. ( this screenshot was taken 00:38 3/29 but it has been this way since 3/28 )

and um hello to the rihanna songs! he is such a fanboy! as he should. and also kendrick! 👋🏼

then XZS posts the vlog with that BGM the next day.

dude, what are the chances. these vlogs are edited real time, we know that xzs team were working hard to feed content so the song must have been decided then and there. wyb listening to that the day before, next day it’s the BGM for ZZ’s vlog? i’m just thinking about ZZ sending it to him first to watch then WYB decided to add the song to his playlist. Or maybe they have already been lovin it and decided to use it on ZZ’s vlog.

so sweet!!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹

the most recent one is this updated 2/13 ( the 3rd track i blurred sung by faye wong, i already talked about here ) :

The first one is this song ⬇️⬇️⬇️ which is about accompanying someone as a form of love. and isn’t that so them? it’s a known message that they both believe in, accompanying that person is a way of showing your love. screenshot 1 is from YT of a native speaker translating the title and that’s the one i’m going with.

also, sorry but i’m linking R1SE’s cover of the song cause it’s beautiful. 🫶🏼

AND THESE LINES! WYB is such a romantic! I cannot! It’s so him! Someone who will like and love this one thing and will stick to it till the end. 🥹

Accompanying you to turn loneliness into bravery

I lost again and again, I didn’t leave

Accompanying is the longest love confession

How long is the future

Stay with you until the story is finished

This is the second one, cloudy day. Which he was also allegedly listening to back in 3/2022 when he was filming and they haven’t seen each other for month.

What does the sky look like

What is love like

Several clouds forgot where to go on a cloudy day

Missing and loneliness

Blowed into the left ear

Maybe I can’t remember, but I can’t forget the time

That secret happiness

What to say to the cloudy day

From what i can gather, it’s about thinking of love and the good things even if it’s a cloudy day. Usually it must feel sad, but this person still chooses to see the good in it. Again, this is so WYB. He sees it and does not mope, he remembers the blue sky and white clouds instead.

Eason Chan is a famous singer that a lot of people listen to so i know that WYB is not the only person in China who probably has one of his songs on his playlist. Compared to Golden Hour which was unusual and the timing being sus. However for this, the fact that it’s added close to Valentines Day? Is this what he is feeling? So freakin in love! ♥️🥹

Anyway, I hope they had fun with the time they had together last CNY break ( allegedly ) and that their love endures & flourishes in the years to come! 🫶🏼

sources: one // two

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Study Buddy 4

Warnings:this series will include dark elements which may include bullying, noncon or dubcon, or violent behaviour. Mind the warnings.

Summary: a group project leads to a tense partnership.

Character: Walter Marshall

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️

“She’s sleeping, fever’s still there,” you say as you ease the door shut behind you. 

As you come down the hall, Walter puts his phone away. He sighs. His curls are mussed from his stressed ruffling. He looks even more grumpy than usual. At least, what you know to be his usual. 

“Right,” he sighs. “Just called the captain...” 

“Captain? You military?” You ask before you can stop yourself. 

“Detective. Left the force a while back,” he sniffs. “I can’t exactly call in, you know?” 

You nod awkwardly. You’re not sure what to do and you know better than to say anything. He barely appreciates your opinions on fiction, let alone his life decisions. 

“You know, when she was a kid. A real kid, small one, I'd put her in the back seat with her teddy and blanket. Drive her around with me. She slept like a rock...” he shakes his head. “It’s too cold and she’s too sick. Too big for that now.” 

You fold your hands behind you. You don’t feel too bad for him, but you feel awful for Faye. She’s old enough to take care of herself but she’s in such a state, she should be left to. 

“Well, I don’t work tomorrow. I could—uh, I just realised how presumptuous--” 

“What?” He asks desperately. “You’ll stay with her?” 

His expression changes in an instant. Hope, concern, the face of a father. You nod. 

“Sure, I could,” you shrug. “I mean, I’ll keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t get worse.” 

“Really?” He asks. 

“She’s really sick,” you say. “And I mean, you’re a cop. That’s a hell of a lot more important than what I do. Oh, I’ll even finish the report. A draft of course, I'll let you edit out all my mistakes.” 

He nods and scratches his beard, “hm, alright. I guess... you don’t got any priors and you look harmless enough.” 

“Wait? You don’t trust me?” 

“I just said--” 

“Priors? Did you... Did you look into me?” 

“If I’m going to bring someone into my house, I’m doing a background check,” he says nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, you passed.” 

“I’m not so sure about that. I pocketed a tootsie roll at the corner shop when I was eight. Maybe I should just go--” 

“I was just being safe. She’s my daughter,” he insists. 

“I know, I look like a criminal,” you go and grab your bag. 

“Please--” 

“Relax, I’m not going anywhere. Faye didn’t run a search on me,” you say. “I’m just grabbing my phone charger.” 

“Oh, right,” he drawls. 

“So uh, I’ll just work on that paper then. You probably gotta get ready soon, huh?” 

“Right about now, yeah,” he grumbles and rubs behind his ear.  

“Cool, I’ll get back to it,” you go to the table and plug the cord into the outlet behind the chair.  

You plug in your cell then turn the laptop towards you. You pay Walter no mind as you review the paragraphs he added in your absence. Or you try not to notice him. He looms and you feel the heat of his gaze on you, for about a minute before he disappears down the hall. 

You focus on your task. You might as well get the report out of the way. Faye won’t sleep very long. You can’t let her either. You have to make sure that fever doesn’t get any higher. You’re no nurse or anything but you know that at least. Writers do tend to have peculiar search histories. Even aspiring ones. 

The night promises you little rest. You’re a bit disappointed. You hope for a break to refresh a bit. You can’t be too upset, you should feel lucky you’re not sick as a dog. 

Walter returns. He smells like pine and mint. He moves around the kitchen wordlessly. He opens a few cupboard before nearing the table. 

“Kid likes grape soda, there’s lots in the fridge. Some mac and cheese in the cupboard if you feel up to it,” he offers. 

“No problem. I think I’ll probably just finish this then deal with my other assignments. More than enough to last the night,” you assure him. “Uh...” you sit back and look at him. “Good luck?” 

His brows furrow, “thanks. Well, I’ll be off. Call me if you need anything.” 

“Sure,” you agree and go back to typing. 

He grunts and stomps off. He rustles around in the entryway as you try to concentrate on the half-finished sentence before you. Even as the door shuts and the lock grinds, you find it hard to add anything. This is weird. You definitely didn’t expect this. 

Another hour and you call it quits. It’s good enough. Besides, he will be sure to make it perfect. At least, to his standard. 

You get up and stretch. You pace around restlessly then go to check on Faye. You were never much of a babysitter. The few times you did so, you felt wildly incapable. You tap on the door before you enter. 

She’s awake but groggy. You touch her forehead. She’s still hot but not feverish. You’re relieved. You bring her some more water then leave her to rest some more. 

Your keep your ears pricked as you go back to the kitchen table. You open up another course and work your way through the lesson. It won’t be so bad if you can even get ahead of schedule. 

You cup your chin as your eyes turn fuzzy. You blink and make your vision clear. You can do this. There’s nothing else you can do. You gotta make it through the night, make sure Faye is okay. With how Walter gets about novels, you can’t imagine what would happen if you failed at this. 

You yawn and rub your temples as you try to shake some life into yourself. You get through the lesson and submit your discussion response. You go into the assignment then start to plot out your project. The clock ticks by. 

Nine turns into midnight before you stop again. You stand and jump around, getting your blood going. You look in on Faye again. She needs tissue and tea. Does he not have any honey? You leave that with her as she scrolls dully through Tiktok. 

In the kitchen, you stare at the blinking cursor. You don’t get much done. Your brain clogs with molasses. Your eyelids droop. 2am. You blink. 2:07. Blink. 2:22. 

You don’t realise you're asleep until you wake up. The smell of coffee tickles your nose and draws your head up with a gasp. You wipe the drool from your cheek and feel the imprint of the table’s edge on your skin. You bat away the glossiness in your eyes as Walter stands on the other side of the laptop. 

“Oh, hi.” 

“Morning,” he says as he puts down one of the plain paper cups. “Coffee.” 

“Uh, thanks,” you glance at the cup. “Er... Faye’s fever broke. I think she’s feeling better. I must have... must have dozed off.” 

“That’s fine,” he says. 

“So I guess...” you stand and close your laptop. “I should get out of your hair. Finally.” 

“No hurry. If you need to sleep, there’s the couch,” he offers. You hesitate. You look at him and his cheek ticks. “What?” 

“Hm? Nothing. That’s nice of you.” 

“I can be nice.” 

“I didn’t say--” you begin to argue. “I know. Thanks for the coffee.” 

You wrap up your charging cord and scoop up your phone and laptop, balancing the cup in your other hand. You turn and groan at the stiffness in your hips. Oof, those chairs are not forgiving. 

He follows you like a shadow as you head for the door. “I am nice,” he insists. 

You look up as you put the cup on the corner table and pack up your bag, “I know. First draft is done.” 

He huffs. “Thank you.... you know, for keeping an eye on her.” 

“Oh, it’s no problem,” you assure him as you go to pull on your shoe, only to nearly tip over. “Oomph.” 

“Look, you shouldn’t go right away. I can see you’re beat, so why don’t you get a few hours in. Buses don’t come out this way more than once an hour before ten.” 

You look at him again. He crosses his arms, his thick chest bulging beneath. Is he suggesting or commanding? It’s hard to tell with him. And you are exhausted. 

“I don’t want to bother.” 

“If it was a bother, I wouldn’t offer,” he retorts. 

“Oh, of course, I guess...” 

“I’ll get you a blanket,” he spins and marches off before you can finish your sentence. You never said yes. 

[ilovebuckers5]

✧･ﾟ: Strawberry Love･ﾟ:✧

kate martin x oc

themes:

fluff

a bit of angst idk

explicit language

reassurance

A/N: this is so short i'm sorry. i might make a master list pretty soon because writing these are so much fun for no reason. (i did not spell check this so idk if there are any mistakes)

arguments had to be my worst thing of all time. like to ever exist. so whenever me and Kate would get into one i would shut off and lock myself in my room for as long as i needed.

"that's not what i meant Liz please!" Kate called out towards my back as i stormed off.

i slammed my door behind me and sat myself on the bed. Kate immediately ran up to the door and tried opening it calling out my name and apologizing. now i will admit, i was being a bit dramatic but i could definitely tell that all these random girls were trying to make moves on Kate, and she wasn't making an effort to stop them. she didn't exactly bang on the door but she kept trying to get it open.

"Lizzy i'm really sorry. can you please let me in so that we can just talk" the heat that was in the room slowly started to fade away as her voice softened from pleading to just wanting. i sighed still sitting on the edge of our bed letting a few tears fall down my cheek. my fingers messed around with the lace i had sewn onto our bed comforter. still swirling the lacy between my fingers, Kate decided to lean her back against the still locked door. she let her body slowly slide down the door onto the floor. she pressed her ear against the cold wood to try and hear what i was doing, which was nothing but staring at the wall. i bit the gummy part of my inner lip and bit around in my own cheeks. Kate placed her head on the door and waited patiently for me to cool down like i usually did.

finally i let all my anger out by practically strangling a couple of my pillows and brushing my hair out a bit aggressively. i slowly approached the door and opened just for Kate to fall backwards onto the floor.

"shit!" i watched Kate fall before quickly kneeling down to help her up. she let out a stifled giggle then stood up straight. without saying anything and without giving me a chance to speak she pulled me into a long with soft kiss. her hands cupped my jaw and she then switched the kiss to a hug. i was a bit caught off guard but quickly eased into the kiss, smiling along with her lips.

Kate's hands moved to my thighs and lifted me up onto her. wrapping my legs around her waist, she carried my over to the bed sitting herself down while i rested on her lap. she pulled away from the kiss to get a better look at just me. her eyes stared into mine hypnotically as if she was sending a little 'i love you' through her iris'. neither of us could help but smile and continue to cuddle.

a couple minutes later i was laying on top of her with my head resting on her chest. her hands trailed across the butterfly tattoo that was on my back. i look up at her and wait for her to connect eyes with me.

"are you mad at me" i say under my breath.

"what? why wou-" kate says with slight offense in her voice before i cut her off.

"because i feel like this happens a lot and i feel like such a manipulator when i do it because i know that you will just wait and wait...." at this point i was sitting up pacing the room, rambling about how i didn't want Kate to feel super bad fro things that aren't her fault. my rant had to go on for at least 15 minutes before she pulled me back on top her lap forcing me to calm down and lay back down.

"baby its ok. i'm ok i swear, i only want whats best for us ok?" Kate said in a comforting tone that toned down the tension that started building up in my again. her hands made their way to my waist holding a firm grip against my hips. she placed a couple kisses against my lips and a trail of kisses along my neck. i slowly fall into a calmer, sleepier mood. i let all of my body weight lay atop of Kate's lap, my nose found its way to the crook of her neck and stayed there for while. Kate's grip came back against my hips as she lifted me up from the bed and onto our couch. while i was still glued to her lap with my arms around her back, she sat down and reached for the remote to turn on Gilmore girls. it only took a couple minutes into one episode for Kate to fall asleep as well. i soaked in her sweet strawberry scent and began to drift asleep.

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter three: Stick Season —✿

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: mentions of guns, drugs, cursing, pregnancy

Authors Note: this is mostly a filler, to show that the story follows the plot of season two! Enjoy!!!

—✿

NOELLE HAD BEEN HAVING A ROUGH MORNING. She’s been staying with fezco ever since a few days ago when her parents kicked her out, and it seemed as though Nate’s baby was already deciding to be like it’s dad and piss her off.

“Damn ma.” Fezco said, glancing over at Noelle who was struggling to pull her jeans over her new stomach bump. She groaned loudly, throwing her jeans to the floor in defeat.

“I know. My stupid, jeans won’t fit…”

“You got a baby in there. No Shit they don’t fit.” Ashtray yelled from the other room, causing Noelle to stick her tongue out at him.

“Shut it ash. I don’t have the patience.” She grumbled, sighing as she stood with her hands on her hips, her stomach protruding out the bottom of her shirt.

“It’s kinda cute cuz.” Fez tried, smiling at the little bump she had while she ran an angry hand down her face.

“Please, I look like a beached whale.”

“Nah, pregnancy suits you.” Fezco smiled at her and she smiled back, placing a soft kiss against his forehead in thanks.

“Thanks fez. Cant wait to go to school with this shit.” She grumbled, holding a hand at her stomach as she pulled on sweats, walking towards the door.

“Anyone give you shit you let me know.” He called after her.

“I will.”

“Have a good day ma!”

“Bye fez! Bye Ash!”

—✿

Fezco had a new house guest, and besides Noelle, he had an even newer house guest. Ashtray was so pissed off he couldn't even speak to Fez.

“Good morning!” Faye said happily, opening her Coca Cola can as Fezco and Noelle looked at her with a smile, Noelle running her fingers over her stomach as she did.

“Morning.” Fezco replied dryly, as Noelle sent the blonde a light nod and a smile.

Fezco couldn't understand the whole story. But apparently Faye had pushed the motel manager off the balcony. She got in trouble with the police and Custer didn’t know what to do. Unfortunately, he wouldn't leave her. And the last thing Fezco needed was the cops finding Faye with Custer. Custer told Fez he could find her behind the dumpster of the new Taco Bell. So Faye came to live with Fez.

“Yo, don't touch nothin'.” Fezco said, listing off rules as he walked Faye around the house. “Don't talk to Ash.”

“Okay.”

“And don't go in mine or Ellie’s f*ckin' rooms, all right?”

“I promise.” Faye said, smiling kindly as she sat across from the two who were sitting and eating. Well, fezco was eating, Noelle and Faye were watching him.

“Want some of my sandwich ma?”

“No thanks.”

“Come on, you gotta eat up. Keep yourself good and healthy for the little gangster.” Fezco said, making Noelle chuckle as she shrugged. She took a bite before handing it back to fezco, who smiled at Faye next. “You want some of my sandwich?” He asked next, making Faye smile widely.

“Okay.”

—✿

Noelle had been spending her time with Fezco at the shop, helping him with work until she could get back on her feet. Her old job was working for Nate’s dad and considering Nate hasn’t told his parents about the baby yet…she didn’t exactly want to see him. So she quit. And now she was in desperate need of a job. And I’m terms of fezco, working at the shop was her only option.

“Lexi Howard.” Fezco said happily, smiling widely at the girl as she walked in. Noelle had been very fond of Lexi, having been friends with me and her since we were kids.

“Hi. Hey Noelle.” She said with a kind smile, making Noelle wave back.

“How you doin'?” Fez asked.

Ever since new years, fezco hasn’t been able to shut up about Lexi, and Noelle knew that more than anyone, having been around him so much. It was sweet really, that fezco had feelings for someone. Noelle had been waiting for the day for him to swoon over someone.

“I'm good, um...”

“Hi. I'm Faye.” Faye introduced, not realizing the slight jealousy in Lexi’s eyes.

“I'm Lexi, um...Are, are you guys...”

“Yeah, no, she's just stayin' with me for a bit, but, but she's cool, though. What brings you out here anyway?” Fez asked, making Lexi smile as she walked over to the fridge.

“Oh, I just came to get a, a drink.”

“Okay, well, we got plenty of those. Um... do you need help finding anything?”

“No, I'm okay.”

“Oh, uh, that's the malt liquor.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The doorbell rang, signaling someone walked in. And by the look on lexis face, it couldn’t be anyone good.

“Feel sorry I didn't get to say goodbye on New Year's.” Fezco said, not noticing the nervous looks on both girls faces at the man who just walked in.

“Good evening.” Cal Jacobs said, a stern look on his face as he walked into the store.

“What's up, man?” Fez asked, confused by his intimidating demeanor.

“You got any spearmint gum?”

“I don't know, man. The gum's right here.”

“Hey Noelle.” Cal greeted, smiling over at Noelle who had been hiding slightly behind fez, hoping cal wouldn’t notice her.

“Hey Mr Jacobs.”

“Please, you know you can call me cal.” He said, kindly regardless of his scary nature. Noelle nodded at him before Cal looked down at her stomach. The slight bump protruding from it catching his attention before fezco stood infront of her protectively.

“This your store?” He asked, making fez nod.

“It's a family business.”

“Do your parents own it?” He asked, making Fezco let out a huff of annoyance at all the questions cal was asking him.

“You usually ask this many questions, man?” He asked, an agitated tone to his voice as he watched cal approach the front counter.

“Just you. She tell you who I am?” He asked, gesturing to Lexi before Fez shook his head. He chuckled, before gesturing to Noelle. “Did she?”

“Nah, man.” Fezco said, yet ge knew the second the man greeted Noelle that it was Nate’s father.

“Are you a cop?” Faye asked, as Cal reached into his pocket. The whole room went quiet when the sound of cal gripping a gun came from his pocket. Everyone watched as he carefully pulled out a twenty, and smiled.

“No. Just a concerned father.” He replied. He left the twenty on the table, grabbing his things before leaving as fezco followed him out. The lights flickered with intimidation as Cal drove off. Noelle couldn’t help but curse herself out for letting Nate’s dad see her baby bump.

—✿

“No ma, not again.” Fezco whispered, walking into the living room at the sound of Noelle’s tears.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” She cried, making him sigh as he pulled her into a hug.

“It’s okay ma.”

“I’m so stupid fezco. I’m so fucking stupid man.” She buried her face in his shirt, crying harder as he held her. This became a routine ever since Noelle moved in. Fezco hated seeing her so crushed.

“You ain’t stupid. You just got hurt.”

“This isn’t my life, this isn’t real. It can’t be.”

“It’s real ma. I know, let it all out.” He reassured, rubbing soothing patterns on her back to calm her.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She cried, making him sigh once more.

“It’ll be okay. I’m right here ma, I ain’t goin no where.”

[worth-this-and-more]

why are only merlins succumbing to their blood: a selwyn's tattoo appreciation concerned post

[spoilers for legendborn and bloodmarked, read at your own caution ;)]

sel's tattoos haven't been explained much, they are mentioned here and there but we don't really know much about their story or functions, if any

and the merlin's tattoo, it's only on the merlins, right?? obviously its in the name

and in the whole story, merlins are the only ones who are seen to succumb to their blood. they are the ones who are taught to be bound by oaths to keep their humanity, only natasia who went rogue is able to resist her demonia. and also, valec, even though he has the exactly-half-demon-half-human-bloodwork thing going on, he is still able to keep his demon inside way easily.

so what if the tattoos are the ones that are triggering the imbalance in merlins?? the tattoos definitely have some kind of purpose other than style or identification (lets be real identification is impossible because you wouldn't get close enough to see the tattoo anyway), because nothing tracy has ever said in the story has ever been useless. she has used the chekov's gun fundamental way too many times and I trust her on this. its just a theory, but this seems like a way bigger coincidence.

we know natasia has somehow retained her humanity, so what if with the help of faye she managed to get rid of those tattoos, and regained control of her demonia?? faye definitely helped her a lot considering that she risked her entire freedom just so she could meet bree one last time.

it's not highly unlikely, because just like valec there must be other cambions outside of the order, and assuming that they are not yet slaughtered by the order, they must also retain their humanity?? patricia's ancestor on the memory walk where pearl gave birth to valec said that "you have to cast it away before it grows big enough to do harm" but we all know valec didn't grow up unbalanced like that.

so what if cambions are just generally assumed to succumb to their blood because of the order's lies just so they can convince them to swear their undying loyalty to the order, place their whole existence in the service of legendborn, reduce their life's purpose as to just be a weapon??

merlins are constantly exploited and used throughout the order, at the price of letting them keep their humanity. no merlin with a sense of morality would ever want to go rampant like the very shadowborn they fight against, the largest part of selwyn's self-hatred stems from this. so whats to say order wont just make up another lie for this exact reason??

the orignal merlin probably used oaths to keep his descendants loyal to the order but we all know someday along the line someone is bound to question why the fuck are we supposed to save these people from our own kin?? so probably merlin made up this lie to keep the spell of eternity useful and his descendants loyal.

and then the line or mograine finally had enough of this bullshit and went rogue, ditching the order altogether. they dont seem succumbed to their demons. and I'm pretty sure they would've ditched oaths completely just out of spite, because why would you follow the footsteps of the very same thing they left??

nvm i just really need a whole detailed book chapter explaining each and every tattoo on selwyn.