#i appreciate them from far away though and i like Looking at them but ultimately i just cant feel kinship

[mihai-florescu]

I appreciate the dedication to preserving niches but im too bored with the concept of labels and ultimately uncaring towards circlejerk communities and maintaining a "lifestyle", perhaps at this point of burnout uncaring towards aesthetics altogether, to be able to meaningfully participate.

[overthinkinglotr]

One thing it took me a while to appreciate in the LOTR films were the parallels between Frodo and Boromir—

At the end of Fellowship of the Ring, the two of them are both planning to “break the fellowship” for their own reasons.

Frodo wants to protect the others from the corruption of the Ring. Boromir wants “the strength to protect his people.” Both would have to sacrifice the fellowship for this— “to bear a ring of power is to be alone.”

They convince themselves it is their duty to save the world on their own: that this is their quest and their burden, and that they must take it even if it they do it alone, against the will of the rest of the Fellowship.

Boromir tells Frodo “I know why you seek solitude. You suffer— I see it day by day.” Earlier in Lothlorien, Boromir had walked away from the group to grieve alone.

When Boromir is first introduced, he has a large flashing arrow over his head saying “this man is going to be corrupted by the power of the Ring.” The other characters are often mistrustful of him, deeply wary, or treat his corruption as an inevitability. Gandalf warns Frodo about how “evil will be drawn to you from outside the Fellowship and, I fear, from within” while casting a side-glance in Boromir’s direction.

When the Fellowship is refused entry to Lothlorien because of the One Ring, there’s a scene where the other members of the Fellowship can’t meet Frodo’s eyes, looking away whenever he looks at them— it’s as if they’re starting to perceive him as the burden, and not the Ring.

Boromir notices this, and tells Frodo “you carry a heavy burden; don’t carry the weight of the dead.” He does not take his own advice: he carries the weight of Gondor’s dead. Fighting on the front lines of the battle between Gondor and Mordor has left him with far less hope than the other characters; he acts resentful of the other characters, because he believes they don’t truly understand the threat Mordor represents, because they haven’t spent the past few years on the front lines like he has. He tearfully confesses his kingdom “looks to him to make things right and [he] would do it”— it his duty to singlehandedly save Minas Tirith. The weight of this burden is what makes him so susceptible to the power of the Ring— which, in turn, is what makes everyone else so wary of him.

By carrying these burdens, Frodo is also becoming isolated from the other members of the Fellowship, the way that Boromir is.

At night on the banks of the Anduin, Frodo/Sam and Aragorn/Boromir have arguments that parallel each other— Sam tries to help Frodo and Frodo pushes him away; Boromir urges Aragorn to go to Minas Tirith and Aragorn pushes him away.

After the climactic battle at Amon Hen, they’re both in despair— Boromir believes his death means the end of the kingdom that has been relying so heavily on him, Frodo believes he is doomed to travel to Mordor on his own. But both are are ultimately “saved.” Aragorn swears to defend the people of Gondor, who he accepts as his people, and Sam refuses to let Frodo leave alone.

The parallels continue in the next films as well though: Frodo is ultimately corrupted by the Ring, just as Boromir was; he’s crushed under the weight of the burden he took on. But it’s just fascinating to see how much they have in common, despite being so different on the surface.

[teaspoontarot]

Pick A Card: What Will The New Year Bring?

Pick a pile 1-4!

These messages are meant to sweeten your day and add a teaspoon of fun! You will always know yourself and your situation the best, therefore everything written here is just to give you a little nudge or to add a little sweetness!

🍵 Teaspoon

Pile 1 💫

Back in business! This past year has had its ups and downs especially regarding the home or close friends. Possibly involving rumor or gossip that has caused tension and pain. You’ve opened the windows and let the air blow through so anything that didn’t need to stay has found its way out.This year you’re focusing on the practical side of life. The turning of a new leaf 🍃.

You’ve been honest with yourself and others and now you’re moving on! You’re no longer waiting for someone to join you in your life and are now focused on just enjoying the ride as it comes. Good tidings and joy for this new year, a more relaxed (or enjoyable) roller-coaster than the one you just got off of. This year isn’t so much about slowing down but more so appreciating how far you’ve come.

There’s still a lot left to do but from where you’re standing the view already looks pretty great. You’re putting down new roots and making a name for yourself!

The new year brings stability and foundation. A new business venture or recognition. A rise in self-esteem and better communication. Joy to be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Two of Swords ⚔️

“Aim for a meeting of minds, for your mutual interest…working on trust and knowing when to trust a hunch”

Affirmations

“When I Think I’ve Surrendered, I Surrender More”

“I Speak Positively of Others”

“I Spread Joy”

Pile 2 ✨

Healing, healing, healing. Learning to forgive yourself and to love yourself with grace. There’s someone you’ve walked away from and the pain still stings. You’ve been stabbed in the side and still hoped that it was simply an accident.

You want to love and cherish so much that you feel a bit silly. Maybe you feel like you need to force yourself back to reality or that what you want simply isn’t for you. This is gentle reminding you that whatever happened does not mean the end. Very rarely is the world so black and white, and frequently things that are broken can be healed or find a new space in the world.

Do not be harsher on yourself than you would be to somebody else. You don’t have to always rise above it all, sometimes it’s nice to rest and find a place to sleep. Stormy waters do not make stronger swimmers, just more tired one. You may feel like you’ve been drowning for years and you’ve only been able to find stray driftwood to cling onto. You will find land, and it will feel strange but good. You’ve swam for so long it feels odd to rest. Forgive yourself for the rest you need. The help will fill it’s way to you.

Your new year brings much needed space, healing, and little discomfort but ultimately what is needed to find stability and foundation.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Ace of Cups 💘

"The start of something wonderful: a taste of whatever is your Holy Grail”

Affirmations

“I Find Deeper Meaning, And Personal Growth Amid The Discomfort”

“I Am Forgiving”

Pile 3🎆

Dreams coming true! You’ve been focused and have faced obstacles you never thought you could get over. Now comes the easy part! Be excited and gracious as this new year rings in. The times when you were honest even though it scared you are pushing you forward.

Honesty does not have to be cruel, it can be sweet and show truth warmth for yourself and others. You’re finding the people who understand you the most and the goals you’ve carried on your back for so long you have finally found space for them.

You’ve climbed the mountain with a heavy burden and now it is time to enjoy the sunrise! Take a seat, have a drink of your choice and share a laugh.

The new year is all about joy, friends, family and an appreciation of what it took to get there. People have your back and you have theirs, true partnership! Love surrounds you in the new year! Enjoy it!

Tarot For The Year Ahead

Ten of Swords 🌠

“The battle has been won! Expect a hug release of pent-up energy in your heart and body”

Three of Swords 🌟

“You have the opportunity to establish the contract. Be fair in your arrangements”

Eight of Pentacles🌹

“A regular and reliable arrangement or resource: sometimes we just want someone who can comfortably deliver”

Affirmations

“My Energy Creates My Reality. What I Focus On Is What I Will Manifest”

“I Do Good”

Pile 4🌸

Everything that you're wanting is waiting for you but you have to let go of someone or something. This is the year of transformation or renewal. Spring is coming and it wants to invite you in with open arms. Let yourself bloom as you need to.

You are being asked to take a little more control in the matters that may be impacting you. There may be a hard conversation you will have to have with yourself about what you truly want. You have to be honest with yourself. There’s an open door waiting for you but you fear walking through it and worry about the consequences of such an action. A slight feeling of indecision but you already know the answer, it’s the moving forward that is scary.

There are people that will meet you on the other side, and there are others rooting for you to take that first step. Like baby bird trying to crack open it’s shell. The world is awaiting you, in all of it’s harsh beauty. Staying where you are will lead to discontent.

The new year bring you discomfort, but truth and the power to push forward.

Tarot For The Year Ahead

The Awakening🎊

“Accept a unique opportunity. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Make a liberating change in your worldview”

Seven of Pentacles✈️

“Don’t overthink a situation that simply needs to run its course”

The Hanged One🚞

“Be aware of an uncomfortable limbo. Being stuck in role”

Affirmations

“I Am The Dreamer of My Dream”

“I Consume Only My Fair Share”

“I Hold Purity In High Esteem”

“I Regard All Altars With Respect”

[astralis-ortus]

you are my sunshine

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— you'll never know, dear, how much i love you.

w.count → 0.6k genre → slice of life, fluff warning → just watching chan (chris) being a parent :> a.n → something light because brain.exe couldn't handle words atm :> also, would you believe me if i said the actual idea behind this was this specific tiktok... lolㅠ ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you were always sure you didn’t want to have any kids. you have your reasons, but ultimately, you’re scared you couldn’t be the kind of parents you wanted to be and you don’t want another soul to have to bear those sort of consequences after your inability to be one. you should be the one carrying them, even if it meant people will judge you for it.

being together with chris, however, had changed your mind.

no, not because he coaxed you into wanting one or anything like that—you knew he wanted to have kids, but he wasn’t even bothered when you told him about the matter when the topic of marriage came up. but then, whenever you see him doing even the most mundane of things... you just knew you’d be just fine raising a child together with him.

chris would be very hands on as soon as your baby arrives. he knows the best temperature for the baby formula, he knows how to wash and sterilize the baby bottle, he knows how to change your baby’s diaper—heavens, sometimes you even wondered if chris was a walking encyclopedia for any baby related matters.

chris would also be the one taking care of your baby throughout the night. ‘i’m already up anyway, you deserve the night’s sleep’ he reasoned, and being a man of his words, you would actually sleep through the night as chris would go as far as setting a bassinet in his home studio to make sure he’d be able to keep an eye on your baby while he works.

as your child grew up, chris would make sure to attend as many of the parents-teacher meeting as he possibly could. he knew the nature of his work would cause him to be away for quite a period of time when he had to, but when he could, he would even collude with your kid to ask you to let their dad be the one to take part for the next meeting. he just loved to be present when he could, and you could see it through the way he laugh with your kid.

your child’s puberty hits chris the hardest—your kid did not grow distant in any kind, they still look for their parents a lot, but for chris who used to be attached to your kid like a stamp on an envelope, letting your kid learn how to slowly become their own person felt like he’s slowly losing the little sunshine who used to only look for him. chris knew it’s going to happen eventually, but for the time being, he’ll keep himself busy with the tons of pictures and videos he took when his baby was younger.

another big wave of blue hits when chris had to send off your now young adult child to college. chris wouldn’t let you nor your child see, but you know the tears his studio had seen after you two had gone home from the airport, mere hours after your child flew thousands of miles away to chase after their dreams. despite the amount of calls and texts your family groupchat exchanged, it wasn’t the same without your child being home.

lastly, chris would finally let his tears be known when he had to let his little sunshine start off their own little family. the realization that the little baby who once fits in his arms is now ready to become a parent themselves were proven a little too overwhelming for chris—but everyone understood. everyone saw the mountain that is chris’ love for his child, and they understood.

not to worry, though—because now whenever your child visits with their own little bean,

chris had found himself another sunshine to take care of.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[midnightsimpsstuff]

WILDLOWER

WILDFLOWER by Billie Eilish

Spencer Reid x reader

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort (promise), JJ's confession to Spencer, toxic friendship, mention of break ups, happy ending.

Summary: After JJ confesses to Spencer that she is in fact in love with him, he is stuck in a tight spot and doesn’t want the reader to find out because you never knew he liked JJ so he broke up with you with no explanation. Because you are friends with JJ you happened to go to her to cry about the breakup not knowing she’s at fault.

A/n: I found out what Wildflower by Billie Eilish was truly about and I fell in love with the idea so I wrote something with the plot, so enjoy! LOL. There might be a part two so look out for that.

Word Count: 2.3k

Comments, shares and rebloggs are appreciated! :))

Had to add the inspiration ;)

You were walking back home, and your heart was more than broken, you didn’t think anything could be worse than this. Everything was fine before Spencer had gone on that stupid case! You knew he was kidnapped during it, you knew he wouldn’t want to tell you what happened but to break up? That was too far.

You took some time of work, you couldn’t go on, not in this state, your friend JJ, who had even introduced you to Spencer was the only friend of yours that didn’t have work at that moment, she was given a leave for reasons she hadn’t told you.

That was what brought you to her couch watching rom-coms, taking tubs of ice creams at once you just finished crying your eyes out on her shoulder, when you told her about how Spencer just dumped you for absolutely no reason, you felt as she tensed up. You were no profiler but you knew that she knew why but you won’t push her to tell you, in case it was a touchy subject and she kicks you out of her house.

Meanwhile, JJ knew she had never felt more guilty in her life, not when she returned home and she had to hug her kids and sleep side by side with Will, not telling him about the case a she usually would, not when she imagined Spencer was at her side not Will, or her kids looked like Spencer or how much they loved Spencer, and she wished she had known Spencer loved her back then she knew everything would be different.

She didn’t think Spencer would break up with you, it was a life or death situation there was nothing she could do but tell him, she felt instantly better when the burden was off her shoulders, she didn’t one bit think about how it could affect him, how it could affect you.

She comforted you though, trying to take her mind away from how you would act when you find out what she said, what she did, how it was her fault, all her fault, how you didn’t deserve this. You were a perfect fit for Spencer. You let him talk without interruptions, you didn’t use him to make your work easier, you didn’t give him sneaky insults or once tell him to shut up, but she did and she didn’t deserve the kindness both of you showed her endlessly.

You had gone home around the time Will had come back from work, JJ’s face was stuck on a look of despair, she made you feel better sure but when you told her ‘Thank you so much, Jenny. You know exactly how to make me feel better, you’re an awesome person and friend. Good Night!’ she froze at the door as she closed it watching you drive away with your car.

It wasn’t fair on you, she felt like shit, Will had noticed her weird mood and tried to confront her about it but she lashed out at him and went straight to her room. Discarding the takeout that Will had gotten from her and their kids’ favourite store she couldn’t help but subconsciously think about Spencer bringing you home takeout from your favourite food store if not for her and her big mouth.

She should have never loved him in the first place, especially since she got you both together.

Spencer and JJ had returned back to work the two weeks after, everyone in the BAU saw the change in dynamic between both of them, and they noticed Spencer’s mood had ultimately dampened and his migraines weren’t the only reason.

Spencer had suffered the two weeks without you, it was just taking a break from each other, and he secretly hoped you would find out what JJ had said so you would understand that it wasn’t his fault.

Your heart would be crushed and his and your friendship would be crushed, because you would have asked him if he loves JJ back and he honestly doesn’t know. He loves her as a friend for sure but as more? He’s not sure.

He already knew he was going to go over to your place that evening and explain everything to you, he had a feeling you didn’t know if not you would have barged into here a long time ago. He knows you, you don’t know how to keep your anger in check you would have come to confront her right there right then.

He let out a soft sigh. It was lunch break now, he had already ordered the flowers you adored so much to your house. When you get back from work you would see them and when you change and get comfortable you would see him. Hopefully, you would take him back even though he knew that was unlikely he really hurt you.

As he was about to get to his seat, JJ stopped him and he couldn’t help the eye roll he did, he wasn’t on the best terms with her at the moment he was going to make up with her when he has completely made up with you.

“Spencer, I am so sorry about your breakup, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” JJ had started with not noticing how loud she had said it now everyone was listening to them but they didn’t make it obvious.

His eyebrows furrowed, not only because of her pitch but also how did she know? “How do you know, I never told anyone that-“ then it clicked. He never knew she had it in her to be this much of a bitch. But he didn’t want to jump into conclusions.

“She told you didn’t she? But did YOU tell her?” He didn’t care if anyone heard at this point he was pissed. Really? Confess your love to your friend’s boyfriend and comfort her about him.

“I am sorry about everything about everything but you know I couldn’t do that to her.” JJ looked down to the floor in shame, her eyes were watering but she knew she didn’t have the right to be crying at that moment. He couldn’t believe he thought he loved her.

He walked away from her, he looked angrier that before but that subsided when he realised he could go home. He had never done anything as fast in his life, he packed his bag, practically ran out then began driving straight to your house.

You had just arrived at home seeing a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers at your front your door you knew who it was from. You unconsciously smiled before your face dropped remembering the break up, you sighed before carrying it inside your house. Dropping it on your coffee table, you realised it had a note but you weren’t in the right frame of mind to read it yet.

You went to quickly shower, change into something by far more comfortable. Before plopping on your couch, deciding to read the note.

            Dear Y/N it was inconsiderate of me to break up with you without explaining first, I am coming over after work to explain everything to you. If you don’t want me to come over just text me. Love you, Spencer.

It wasn’t his handwriting, he must have sent it over, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Funny of him to think you still had his number.

As you began watching something on your TV, you heard your doorbell ring, you went to open it.

“Start talking bitch.”

You sat on the chair opposite Spencer, he had just finished explaining everything to you and your mouth was currently agape. You began backtracking you finally understood. That’s why her body kept going rigid.

She loved Spencer. She had a husband yet she loved Spencer. She had kids yet she loved Spencer. Spencer had a girlfriend yet she loved Spencer. Spencer’s girlfriend was someone she considered a best friend yet she loved Spencer. She was extremely beautiful, knew Spencer way longer than you and Spencer once liked her like seven years ago and now she was in love with him. Spencer is the godfather of her child and she loves him?!

You were no more shocked, the reality of the situation was dawning on you, softly laughing to yourself about everything. “You don’t love her back, right?” you didn’t know what you would do if he said he does but the moment the question came out of your mouth. Spencer shouted no so loud you flinched.

His face was now pink from embarrassment, “No, I don’t, not anymore, not again it’s just you I love and want to love.” He said meeting your eyes with a smile.

His eyes began doing that drawing in puppy dog eye thing it usually did when he wanted to get something he wanted, you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it sure felt like he did because how could you not take him back when he is doing his face that way.

You walked over to him, your face was neutral, and he didn’t know what you were going to do. When you stood beside him you held his face, caressing his skin as he looked up at you his eyes still doing the thing. You slapped him really hard, “That’s for hurting my heart for the past two weeks.” Then you crouched down to him giving him a passionate kiss. “That’s because you went out of your way to explain and apologize and because I love you.

His face still hurt but he was sincerely happier now he had you back. You went away to get your phone to send a quick message to JJ.

‘We need to talk, come over tomorrow.” you sent her. You gave your phone to Spencer so he could see the message. His face visibly tensed, “Are you ending your friendship with her?” he asked. He’d feel pretty bad, you two have always been so close.

“No, we just need to talk some things through. Don’t worry my love” you said as you took a seat in his lap and as he drew circles on your thigh.

“Should I end my friendship with her?” Spencer asked shyly, he felt like you would say no but he did really value JJ as a friend so it might hurt a bit.

“Do you want to?” you asked him, you were just playing with him finding it funny as his face began changing from thoughtful to fear. He felt like it was a trick.

He feebly nodded, you smiled “Then no, Spencer. That won’t be fair on you. You two have been friends longer than I knew you” you told him while looking at him with love.

Everything was better and looking up for you.

But with JJ she felt her heart leap out of her chest as she read your message, she just read it again and again and again. The face of Spencer’s fury and your sad face was in her head she didn’t know what to do she didn’t want to lose any of you but she knew what was coming.

She just came between a good relationship because of her stupid feelings. She would have cried even more if she wasn’t tired of crying.

After getting the message from you she got enough courage to tell Will about everything. He reacted better than she thought he would have, although he was mad. When she had assured him she doesn’t love him anymore and only loved Will. He wasn’t so mad anymore but he asked for a bit of space because the way she had been neglecting him throughout the weeks she was at home and he said it’s best she knows what it felt like a bit.

JJ without fail had come to your home the next day, immediately after work. Texting Will about where she would be. She didn’t get a response though he left her on read, but she understood she had hurt many people and it was beginning to come on her.

You opened the door smiling at her. JJ wanted to cry, why were you smiling, did you not know, did you know and weren’t angry, she doesn’t know whether you and Spencer got back together. But she knew she couldn’t take it any longer.

“Y/N, I have something to tell you…” she stated while motioning her head inside as if asking if she could come in. You moved away so she could seat in on your couch.

You already knew and you felt touched she wanted to come clean. You looked at her expectantly waiting for her to speak.

“I confessed my love to Spencer on our last case, I think that’s why you two broke up.” She was fiddling with her ring.

“I already apologized to him, and to Will and I felt it’s time to apologize to you, I don’t want to lose any of you. I am so sorry I got you two together, I am sorry I pulled you both apart, I am sorry you trusted me enough to cry to me about what happened. I don’t deserve you.”

When she finally looked up at you, she realised you didn’t look angry. “Spencer told me.” You said. She felt something in her stomach drop. “You knew the whole time?” she asked, now she felt this was a plan for you to become the next unsub.

But instead your eyes widened, “No, he told me yesterday. Relax.” You said rubbing her back.

“I forgive you don’t worry. I want my friend back. You two hugged and she held unto you tighter than she had ever done before. Spencer watched you two from the kitchen.

This is how it’s meant to be.

[reveluving]

don’t know if you’re still taking shy!wife requests but if you are what about soap x shy!wife where he sits her in front of a mirror and makes her watch as he plays with her 🤭 but he stops if she looks away

WHY ARE YOU ENCOURAGING FICTIONAL ME’S ULTIMATE KINK UNPROVOKED

Includes: mirror kink (minors DNI!), petnames ('baby'), fingering/fingerfu~cking, thigh-slapping, praising, teasing, edging, mentions of overstimulation

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

It should’ve hit you why he had a sinister smile when you suggested adding a large mirror in the bedroom. Just an innocent idea, you wanted to make the space look bigger.

That was until he came up behind you, toying with the hem of your shirt as he purred.

“Y’don’t possibly think we wouldn’t have some fun with it, did’ya? Just imagine; holdin’ ya in front o’me, appreciatin’ these sweet curves with nothin’ coverin’ ya.”

Your wide eyes weren’t from mortification or anything the like, far from it. But it did make your heart jump like crazy. You were already a little ‘skittish’ at the thought of fully exposing yourself under a bright light, though Johnny, bless your husband, never giving up in showing you what he sees in you, body and soul.

And as he kissed your shoulder, judging by your silence, he knew he got you.

He was leaning against the headboard, his legs spread for you to occupy—handing the spotlight for you to dominate as he worked his wonders in the background.

He had a knack for slapping your thighs whenever his touch jolted you into covering your legs. Not painful ones, not unless you were feeling a tad naughty, just surprising ones, but a warning nonetheless. It contrasted with the way he was kissing you, alternating between soft kisses, the ones where he’d leave ticklish smooches on the corner of your lips, and then sliding his tongue against yours, a sign that he could barely conceal his patience.

Sighing in appreciation each time he spreads your lips with his middle and ring finger.

Murmuring praises against your neck in between his kisses.

“Ah-ah. You know the rules.”

“Y’hear that? Fuck. Y’already clenchin’, baby? Just one finger?”

“Eyes on the mirror, baby. That’s it. Such pretty eyes lookin’ a’me.”

“Can y’feel me throbbin’ against ya? If I just… roll my hips… Oh, y’like that, don’t ya?”

The expressiveness of your husband, his eagerness to please you while making you watch yourself didn’t help. Not especially when he doesn’t hesitate to stop, to tease you further whenever your eyes roll back to the point of nearly closing them.

His middle finger was soaked, and so was his ring. The band glistened in the dim light, having played and plunged in your tight heat like his life depended on it so he could hear your whines grow at a higher pitch whenever he’d pick up the pace. Stopping as soon as you closed your eyes whenever it got too much, too good.

His ring played a huge part in it at the start, feeling you jump each time he pressed the initially cold metal against your burning skin.

He found your attempts to wriggle away from his adorable, with one of his muscular arms folding your chest. All while his hand switched between kneading your beautiful breasts and digging his fingers into your soft skin, just enough for you to feel them the next day.

Your voice came out in a long, pathetic whine before you forced out his name, “Nghhh—Johnny…”

Music to his fucking ears.

His fingers were relentless, continuing to rub your clit feverishly, even when you were already three orgasms in. There was something about the way your lips parted every time, or how addictive how juices felt as they smeared most of his fingers or how ruined the sheets were.

Just how he liked it.

And unless you used your safeword anytime soon, he was already planning on laying you on your back, longing for a taste. The mess you had made on his fingers was just the start, shamelessly licking them off by your ear, and with a pop while locking his eyes with your glassy, fucked-out ones in the mirror.

He wanted, hell, he needed to taste you. The real deal. To flick your clit with his tongue, to tease along your lips from your tight hole and up, to nose at the stain you had left on the blankets from just his fingers stretching you.

Oh, his cock swelled just as his mind grew lighthearted just at the very thought of it.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[munsonify]

ice cold

pairing. eddie munson x afab!reader

summary. after forgetting his gloves you bought him, eddie resorts to sticking his frozen hands up your shirt.

content warnings. slightly nsfw/alludes to smut, neck kisses, below the chest touching, gendered terms.

word count. 830

It was no secret that Eddie’s hands got cold during the winter. Every time his joints lock up uncomfortably, he curses himself out at his forgetfulness for never buying gloves. He always seems to forget he needs them until it’s too late, his hands unable to function properly. It’s worst when he’s trying to play guitar, his once beautifully working fingers barely moving.

Eddie was grateful you came around. As if a miracle, you made sure you remembered every small thing he needed. Water, medicine, sunscreen, wallet, and especially his gloves. You bough him a nice pair, pitch black and wool to match his usually dark clothing. He pretended to grumble annoyingly about the material, though he was beyond appreciative of you.

However - like his normal forgetful self - he forget the pair of gloves you bought him in his trailer. Eddie was rushing out the door in desperate attempts to make it to your house in time to pick you up. You two had plans with your friends, plans that you insisted would be fun! The town of Hawkins was having their annual tree lighting ceremony, and you practically begged Eddie to join you and your friends. Steve seemed to be dragged along too, though he was not nearly as reluctant as your boyfriend was being.

Despite all of this, he went anyways. He could never say no to his girl.

So, with all of this on mind, the idea of the gloves you bought Eddie seemed to slip his mind. He realized soon after he started driving to your house that his hands were bare, because despite his van pumping out warm air, his fingers still locked up. With an instant groan, Eddie threw his head back against the headrest of his seat, continuing his drive to your house. He just knew you’d notice his gloveless hands immediately.

You did, of course, notice in an instant. Your eyes naturally zoned in on his hands the moment they opened the door for you. You couldn’t help but pout at him. His face immediately fell with guilt.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Eddie said in a soft tone. “I was running late, I forget.”

You soon tried to tug your own gloves off to give to your boyfriend, but he immediately told you no. It was a long shot trying to give Eddie your gloves, though it was worth the try. Ultimately, you knew he’d never take something like that away from you.

After helping you into the van, he drove off to town center, where he was certain he’d struggle to find parking. He spent a few minutes searching for a proper spot, his loud metal music the complete contrast of what was happening outside. Though the parking spot was far away, he insisted it wasn’t that bad.

Eddie ate his words as his fingers instantly locked up after a minute of walking. He tried shoving them into his pockets, though his leather jacket only seemed to absorb the cold weather, rather than deter it. He also refused to admit how cold his hands were to you. He’d be caught dead before he admitted a fault like this.

Gently, you scolded him for his forgetfulness, though not fully upset with him. Your soft, glove covered hand enveloped one of his, engulfing it in the most warmth you can. You were desperate to give him some sort of relief from the cold weather.

Eddie quickly became irritated waiting outside in the freezing weather. You two had finally caught up with your friends, who were all bundled up properly. While looking around, he seemed to be the outcast. As always, he thought. Even Steve had gloves on.

With the sky darkening, and the anticipation for the lights began to rise, Eddie grew restless. He resorted to what he thought was his last resort. With soft touches, he slowly came up behind you, pressing his front against your back. His arms wrapped gently around your waist, his hands slowly inching to the hem of your undershirt, until his hands were finally submerged under your clothes.

Eddie pressed his cold, long fingers shamelessly against your bare skin, snaking them up your stomach until they rested below your clothes breasts. You jolted immediately from his cold touch, gasping out and whispering ‘Eddie!’. His cold breath hit your ear as he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What?” He question, a knowing smirk playing on his face. “Cant get warm?”

“You can, just not up my shirt!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as his hands stay steady underneath your breast. The closeness of his hands made you shudder, though you were sure it could’ve also been from the cold.

“Oh c’mon, princess,” Eddie cooed, his cold lips pressing against your neck. “You don’t mind too much.”

His voice lowered to a whisper, a smirk still playing on his lips as they reach up to your ear again. “I’ll make it up to you later, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

[copper-16]

First Meetings

Elena attends her first football youth team camp, and meets someone who, though she doesn’t realize it at the time, will become a very important person in her life.

(a/n: I must admit this is probably one my more favorite Elena stories I’ve written, so if anyone has anymore ideas that involve older Elena and this new OC we meet here you’d be my new best friend cause I wanna write more about them 🥹)

The first national team camp Elena was ever invited to was when she was only fourteen years old. The call had been to Ingrid, who was then immediately turning to Mapi with a huge smile on her face. 

Partly because it was their daughters first call up, and partly because it had been Norway who had come knocking on her door. 

Mapi and Ingrid would always argue (playfully, most of the time), about which country their daughter would represent, should she choose the path of becoming a professional athlete. 

And while it didn’t matter in the end, for their daughter chose instead to become a doctor as opposed to an athlete, she did spend a good bit of her youth playing both football and handball, very competitively. 

She had been in La Masia, and showed great promise as a future defender, so it really wasn’t much of a surprise to anyone involved when Elena was selected for Norway’s U16 camp, despite the fact that she was only fourteen. 

And though both Ingrid and Mapi were excited (once a certain Spaniard got over being butthurt that it wasn’t Spain who had come calling), they left the ultimate decision up to Elena on whether or not she wanted to go. 

“Mi sol, at the end of the day the choice is yours. You are allowed to do whatever you would like, your Mama and I would always support that,” Mapi reassured gently, and Elena nodded her head slowly, but she still looked rather unsure. 

“Thank you Mami, I appreciate it, I really do. I just…is there any way I could have a minute before I decide?” The teenager asked gently, and her mother nodded easily. 

“Take all the time you need, there is no rush,” Mapi promised, squeezing her daughter's shoulder gently before the girl slipped away. But instead of heading for her room as the Spaniard expected her to, she headed for the balcony instead.

Elena pulled out her phone carefully from her pocket as she shut the door behind her, staring at it for a few moments before clicking open to her contacts. She hit dial before holding it up to her ear, listening to the line ring before it clicked, signifying that her godmother had picked up the phone

“Elena, pequeña! What have I done to deserve a phone call from my favorite goddaughter?” Alexia practically yelled into the phone, not exactly helping the argument that she ‘wasn’t old’ and ‘understood technology completely.’ The girl rolled her eyes at her godmother's antics, even if she knew to expect them. 

“Tia, I am your ONLY goddaughter,” Elena reminded her, but there was a smile on her face regardless.

“Ah semantics semantics! What is up pequeña, how are you?” Alexia asked, her voice a little more soft and gentle now. It wasn’t exactly a common occurrence for the green eyed girl to call the blonde like this out of the blue, so the former Barcelona captain made sure to seem extra attentive. 

“Oh I’m good,” Elena said carefully, before she went quiet. Alexia didn’t respond, sensing that there was more the younger girl wanted to say. 

“I got invited to a U16 camp, with Norway,” she finally forced out quietly, bracing herself for the former Barcelona captain to gasp, to scream, to get all excited. She had been preparing herself for Alexia to lose her mind, to be so excited that she wouldn’t even listen to Elena’s concerns. 

But it never came. 

“You don’t sound excited pequeña,” Alexia commented lightly, her tone filled with more protectiveness than excitement, and no judgment whatsoever. As much as Alexia wanted her goddaughter to be a footballer, same as her mothers, she cared far more about her well-being than anything else as trivial as her career. 

Elena sighed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she tried to organize her thoughts appropriately, in a way that was understandable. 

“I am excited, but I’m also…I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I want to be a footballer, is it silly of me to consider even going?” Elena asked, her insecurity poking through in her tone.

“Oh course you can still go, even if you are not sure. There is no requirement, it is not a contract that states that if you go now, you are obligated to become a footballer,” Alexia reminded gently. Her words were soft, and Elena clung to how secure her tone was, as though she held all of the answers to every problem the teenager had ever had. 

It was one thing for her mothers to tell her, but for Alexia to? It was somehow better, hearing it from her mouth. As biased as Alexia was, because she loved her, she had always been honest with Elena too. 

“Yes but…well there are people like you who are or were SO sure of what they want to do, and would I be taking up someone else’s spot by committing when I’m not even sure football is what I want to do? I love it, I know I do, but I’m just not sure that it’s what I want for the rest of my life,” Elena explained, and it was not a new thought in her mind but it was still hard to say, because she’d never spoken the thought aloud to someone. Not even her mothers, who were inside the living room trying very hard to pretend like they weren’t eavesdropping on the entire conversation. 

Mapi was practically sitting on Ingrid’s lap, she was leaning so far over her wife as she angled her body and ears toward the balcony, even if she couldn’t hear much with the door being closed.  

“Elena, for as many people who are sure, there are a hundred more who are not. You are fourteen, you are not supposed to have everything figured out right now. Look at people like Salma, she couldn’t decide until she was practically eighty years old what sport she wanted to do!” Alexia exclaimed, and even though Salma had picked her sport at nineteen and not eighty, it still managed to elicit a small laugh from her goddaughter. 

“You deserve to be there, that is why they called you up! This is a chance for you to go and see if you like it. That’s what youth team camps are all about,” Alexia insisted, and there was a pause on the line before the teenager spoke again.

“But also…what if they don’t like me Alexia? What if I am not Norwegian enough for them, or not good enough at football, or I’m weird and young and I don’t make any friends?” Elena said all in a rush, dumping out the bucket of her worries to be sifted through by her ever loving godmother. 

“Oh Elena. They are going to LOVE you, because you are kind and considerate and compassionate. The rest of it isn’t important, you just need to go in there and be kind and you will make friends, I promise. And hey, who knows, some of the girls there might be international as well! Some of your mothers old teammates have children, many of whom were all raised in different countries,” Alexia rattled patiently, remembering acutely how worried she had been when she had begun to be called up to national team camps. She tries her hardest to tell Elena what she needed to be told when she was a young girl, with nobody to give her this advice first hand. 

“I remember when I was younger, god I was a disaster at youth team camps! I was so awkward and shy, but the girls were still always so nice and welcoming, I didn’t have much time to feel self conscious about it,” the midfielder remembered fondly, chuckling to herself as she thought back on the memory. 

Oh, if only I had managed to grow out of my social anxiety as I got older, she thought wryly, before focusing back on the conversation. 

“And hey, at the worst? It’s only two weeks. Two weeks of just giving it a try, and then at least you can say that you did it. If you don’t like it, nobody will force you to go back,” Alexia promised.

“And you’d still…still be proud of me? Even if I hated it and never wanted to play football again because it was so terrible?” Elena asked quietly, her voice soft.

“Elena, I would be proud of you if you went on to win the Ballon d’Or, or if you never touched a football again in your entire life. I will always be proud of you, no matter what you do. But for the record, I don’t think it’s going to be that bad, but even if it went terribly, I will still love you,” Alexia insisted, and it’s the truth. Years later, when Elena graduates from medical school, it will be Alexia who skips the Ballon d’Or ceremony that she had been invited to present at, in order to sit in the front row with Mapi and Ingrid’s family, screaming when her goddaughter walked across the stage to receive her degree. 

But for now, she is content to love the teenager in whatever way she needs, including when she is just trying to figure out what she wants to do in life. 

“Thank you Alexia. I love you,” Elena whispered, her throat suddenly tight with how grateful she is to have her godmother in her life. 

To the rest of the world, Alexia might be the terrifying former Barcelona captain, one of the best players of their generation, but to Elena? She had always been the woman whose face lit up when she walked in the room, the woman who adored spending time with her and reading stories and gave her the best hugs. 

“I love you too pequeña, always,” Alexia insists, wishing her goddaughter goodnight before they hung up the phone. 

With a renewed sense of sureness, Elena marched back inside with determination and right over to where her mothers were sitting together on the couch, pressed up against one another as they tried to pretend that they weren’t entirely focused on the balcony. 

The dark haired teenager raised her eyebrow slightly at the upside down crossword Mapi was pretending to complete and the fact that Ingrid was staring at her wife like she was trying to memorize the silhouette of her face despite the fact that they spent every single day together. She knew they were just doing their best, and that they were both far too nosy for their own good. 

“I would like to go to the youth camp,” she declared, and both Ingrid and Mapi smiled brightly at their daughter as they nodded their agreement, happy to see that she was so sure of herself. 

—

Ingrid had flown out to Oslo with Elena, but she only stayed long enough to drop her off at the hotel and check her in with the staff members. The players were going directly to training, where parents really weren’t supposed to go, and Ingrid hadn’t really planned to spend a whole ton of time around unless Elena needed her to, for some reason.  

It wasn’t the first time Elena had said goodbye to her mother before they separated for something like this, but it did feel weird to know that she wouldn’t see either of her parents for a whole two weeks. 

She clings to the Norwegian for a hair too long, her grip tighter than it’s been in awhile. She feels young again, much younger than she actually is. Luckily, Ingrid’s love is readily available, and she doesn’t comment on her daughter's slightly desperate grip. 

“You’re going to be just fine, Elena. I love you, you call me if you need anything okay? Your Mami and I will call you once a day at least but if you need us more than that we are only a phone call away. And we can always hop on a flight if you need us!” Ingrid rambled, knowing that when she stopped talking she would have to leave. 

“I will be okay Mama. I’ll be sure to call you and Mami a lot to tell you about everything. I love you!” Elena called out as she finally forced herself away, leaving with one of the trainers to get settled in her hotel room before training commenced in a bit. 

She got her stuff settled in the room, noticing that another girl had already placed her luggage on the opposite side of the room. The green eyed girl wondered briefly who her roommate would be, but she didn’t have much time to think on it when someone came to get her for training. 

She was one of the last to arrive, and therefore by the time she had arrived out to the pitch, all of the girls were starting to warm up. 

Most of the girls are older than she is, standing in groups as they all laughed and chatted in a variety of languages. Elena was generally a pretty outgoing person in most circumstances, but this admittedly made her more nervous than usual. 

A lot of the girls seemed to already have groups of friends, and seemed older than her. It felt awkward to go up and introduce herself to these random people who already had a set friend group. 

She could see Frida and Emma’s daughter Kajsa in a group with a few other girls. Her mother had told her that Kajsa would be there, but the two didn’t know one another, because Kajsa was nearly two years older than she was. 

She noticed a few of the girls were standing by themselves off to the side, and she surveyed them quickly to determine who to walk up to. Most of them looked pretty focused, staring intently at the ball they were working with, clearly deep within their thoughts. 

She clocked Valeria, Marta and Caro’s daughter, but the look on her face is dark and filled with a determination that offsets Elena from feeling willing to go up to her. 

When she turned to her right, there was a girl who looked to be a little younger than the rest, much like herself, who was juggling the ball off to the side of the group. She had light brown, almost mousy hair, and unlike the other girls who were by themselves, she had a bright smile as she looked down at the ball. 

She actually looked like she was having fun, and Elena isn’t entirely sure what makes her feet start moving, but all the sudden she’s standing right in front of her, clearing her throat and greeting the girl. 

“Hi,” Elena said softly as she walked over, a wash of nerves. The girl looked up at her in surprise, her mouth forming a little “o” as she stared back at the other girl. The ball fell listlessly at her feet, and she offered a slightly shy smile of her own back. 

“Hey,” she replied, her voice soft and calm. She seemed quite nervous, her outward behavior a direct reflection of what Elena was feeling on the inside. 

“I’m Elena,” the teenager introduced, and the girl seemed to perk up slightly. She seemed very shy, and if there was one thing the green eyed girl was good at, it was getting introverts out of their shell. 

“My name is Kaia,” she echoed Elena’s greeting, and the Barcelona native couldn’t help the grin that broke out onto her face at the flush that was peaking through Kaia’s cheeks. 

The taller girl's accent was strange, no matter what language she spoke. Her Norwegian was accented, and so was her English, and Elena couldn’t put her finger on it until they were hanging out in their room later that night. 

The two had been selected to room together for the two weeks, so it really was serendipitous that Elena had chosen to go up to Kaia as opposed to any of the other girls who were by themselves. 

They were sitting in their respective beds in their hotel room later that night, when the taller girl turned toward Elena with an air of nerves around her. 

“Is it okay if I call my mums?” She asked, and the Spanish Norwegian immediately furrowed her brows. Kaia clearly takes it as being more malicious and less as the confusion it really is, as the dark haired girl tried to figure out if what she had said was the truth. Kaia had experienced plenty of teasing in her youth from her peers about her two mothers, and she immediately draws back in on herself as a result. 

“Yeah I…I have two mums,” she said softly, but the confusion shifted to her when Elena smiled brightly at her sentence. 

“Me too!” She exclaimed, and Kaia’s mouth flopped open, her reservations fleeing her with the drop of a hat practically. 

“Really?!” The taller girl asked in amazement, her whole face lighting up in relief. She didn’t often meet many others who could say this. 

“Yeah, I do! They used to play on the same football team together, that’s where they met,” Elena explained, and once again Kaia looked at her new friend in complete surprise. 

“That’s exactly what happened with my mums too! Do you want to meet them?” Kaia asked earnestly, and Elena nodded before she bounded over to the other bed, stuffing her smaller body close next to Kaia’s as the girl FaceTimed her mothers. 

“Hello darling!” Elena recognized Fran Kirby by both her appearance and accent in half a second, understanding settling over her. She remembered her mother telling her that Maren and Fran had a daughter her age, but she didn’t know that Kaia would be here. 

Suddenly, Kaia’s English accented Norwegian, and Norwegian accented English were starting to make sense. The accents made sense when she could place exactly where they had come from. 

“Mum, this is my friend Elena,” Kaia introduced, and the dark haired girl watched in amusement as Maren poked her head into the camera frame as well, a big smile on her face. 

“You’re Ingrid and Mapi’s daughter, right?” Maren asked kindly, and Elena nodded eagerly, waving hello to the older woman she had met several times. 

“You guys have met each other before, but only when you were babies!” Fran recalled, a statement Maren agreed with readily. 

Ingrid is equally as excited about Elena’s befriending of Kaia when they call her and Mapi right after, the two girls regaling their day at training in long detail.

Okay, it’s a lot of Elena talking in long tangents as Kaia listens patiently, adding in a few details here and there. But the older girl seems completely content to listen to Elena speak, capturing every small detail and little moment. 

For the two weeks they are at camp, the fourteen and fifteen year old are entirely inseparable. They eat together, train together, and when one of them gets lonely, they crawl into the other's bed to hang out and talk far past when they were supposed to go to bed (neither of them are aware that when they are older, they’ll spend every single night like that, together). 

Kaia followed Elena around almost like a lost puppy, and the dark haired girl happily drug her everywhere she went. It was easy for Elena to pull Kaia out of her shell, natural really, and they clearly fit together really well. 

It’s clear to anyone with eyeballs that Kaia has a crush on Elena, but neither of them are quite old enough to pick up on it. All they know is that they both loved spending time with one another, although neither of them realized just how much until later in life. 

But as relationships usually are when you are young, when the two girls leave camp, despite having exchanged phone numbers, they fall out of touch with one another. Kaia lives in England, and Elena still lives in Barcelona, and the opportunities for them to see one another in person are rare. 

They still follow one another through social media, and the occasional texting conversation. When Kaia gets her first Lioness call up at just 17, Elena is one of the first people to text her congratulations. And when Elena graduates primary school, Kaia of course texts her to congratulate her as well, thrilled for her friend. 

But nothing feels quite the same as when they were younger, and Elena tried to accept that. She tried to move on, unsure of why she was so stuck on some two week friendship that, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t really have meant anything. 

Or would it? 

Luckily, their distance wasn’t something she’d have to accept for forever. 

—

Elena had just gotten out of one of her university classes when she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket, and she reached down to fish it out. 

The dark haired girl couldn’t stop the shock she felt traveling through her when she saw the name on her phone, and the contact pictured attached, signaling who was calling her. 

It was an old photo, one from four years ago in fact, and it felt like a time capsule, pulling the green eyed girl back to a time of football camps and giggling under the covers with one of the funniest people she had ever met. A time of spending two weeks attached at the hip with a shy girl who blushed when she held her hand to drag her toward the gym, who always passed her the ball even though she clearly wasn’t the best player at camp. 

She stared at Kaia’s picture for so long she almost forgot to accept the phone call, and she scrambled to do so before the ringing ceased. 

“Kaia?” She asks into her phone almost breathlessly, despite the fact that she’s standing still. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she’s not entirely sure why. Her and Kaia haven’t spoken really since they were fourteen and fifteen, and they were eighteen and nineteen now. 

It was too long for her reaction to be this visceral, but it still is, for some reason. She can’t explain it, she doesn’t want it to ever go away, though. 

“Hi Elena,” Kaia says softly, and her voice is lower and more mature, but it’s still Kaia. It warms Elena’s heart immensely, and she smiles despite the fact that the English footballer can’t see her. 

“How are you?” The dark haired girl asked, genuinely curious. She could have picked up the phone and called, she knew that, but for some reason she hadn’t. 

It felt even more strange for Kaia to be calling. Shy, quiet, sometimes awkward Kaia, who sometimes people thought was mean, but Elena knew it was really just that she spent far too much time in her own head. 

Although, she didn’t look all that awkward when she was on a football pitch, scoring goals like she was born to be a nine. She was brilliant, if a bit inexperienced. 

“I’m, I’m good. Really good actually. But I, well, I need your help with something,” Kaia explained quickly, and Elena raised her brow but asked what the striker needed all the same. 

“You spent last summer in Sweden right?” Kaia asked, and when Elena confirmed it, she continued. The green eyed girl had gone to spend the summer with Frido, and even Ingrid and Mapi had come for a few weeks on holiday as well.  “I’m going on loan to Hammarby for the season to get some more experience, and I was hoping you had any some tips on how to get around, or your favorite spots. Or any of the slang they’re using nowadays, it’s been an embarrassingly long amount of time since I’ve been back to Norway, and the only Norwegian I’m speaking nowadays is with Mom,” she revealed, and Elena felt her heart flutter in her chest. 

If she were thinking about it logically, it would be a little suspicious. Plenty of the girls who they played with in the youth teams were actually playing in Sweden, and probably knew much better than Elena did from just a summer spent with Frido in the countryside. 

And there was always the fact that her mother probably knew dozens of Swedes, who again would know better than the Barcelona based Spaniard. 

But she doesn’t care, because Kaia is calling her, and suddenly she has an excuse to talk to the girl who she’s been unable to get out of her head for years. She hadn’t realized until an embarrassingly long amount of time after the fact that it was a crush she had on Kaia back then, but as soon as she had realized she had been unable to let that go. 

Would things have been different, if they had stayed in touch afterward? She wasn’t entirely sure, but it didn’t matter. Maybe they could be friends now, if nothing else. 

Even if it isn’t going to turn into anything, she’d rather have a tiny bit of Kaia than nothing at all. She doubted Kaia would ever feel the same about her, and how could she? Sweet, brilliant, talented, soon to be famous Kaia, who would never fall for the university student who had little interest in the fame and money that football wanted. 

(Oh, if only she knew that Kaia wanted every single part of her, wholly, completely. She always had, even when they were kids.) 

—

Elena rolled over in her sleep, and unlike usual, there was an object blocking her from doing so fully. 

An object that smelled like jasmine and everything safe in the world, and the dark haired woman instantly turned to burrow into it, clinging tightly to the woman in her bed. 

Strong arms pulled her in tightly, and she blinked her eyes open sleepily to find that Kaia was smiling down at her, before the hazel eyed woman held her face gently in her hands, leaning forward to press a resounding kiss to her forehead. 

“Good morning,” she said softly, before she moved to bring Elena further into her, pressing their bodies together as she had longed to do for what felt like years. The smaller woman allowed her body to be moved easily, wrapping her own arms around Kaia and holding her close.

“You weren’t supposed to get in until later today?” She says in lieu of a greeting, her voice raspy and soft as she allows herself to stay nestled against her girlfriend. It's been over a month since they last saw one another, with their respective busy schedules. 

“I took an earlier flight. I wanted to see you sooner,” Kaia admits sheepishly, her nose twinging with pink as it gives away how clearly besotted she is. Elena’s eyebrows furrowed adorably in confusion as she leaned back to look her girlfriend in the eye, and the brunette reached forward to press her thumb to the space between her eyebrows and smoothing the crease, just because she could. 

“I was asleep! That can’t be exciting enough to move your flight to get in at seven in the morning,” She protested as she looked over at the clock with a wince at how early the time was, but Kaia just let out a small laugh. 

“I firmly disagree, you are completely adorable when you are asleep, and you get all clingy in the mornings. I couldn’t stand to miss another morning of it if I didn’t have to,” Kaia argues good naturedly, and Elena smiles before she presses forward, finally kissing her girlfriend for real. She loved this version of Kaia, the one that was all soft and giggly and gentle. 

It was the version of her that only existed for the green eyed woman, and nobody else. And as much as Elena loved seeing her girlfriend score buckets of goals on the pitch, this would always be her favorite version of the woman. 

“You don’t have to miss it anymore,” the Barcelona native whispered against her lips with excitement, and could feel the curve of Kaia’s own lips as she echoed the dark haired woman’s smile. 

“Not anymore, no. I’m going in at two today to sign the contract and take photos, so you need to help me with my hair and makeup,” Kaia explained, and Elena let out a sigh of relief as she nodded, more than willing to do so. 

After her one year loan spell at Hammarby, Kaia had returned back to Chelsea until she was twenty two years old, when she had made a move to Atletico Madrid for a year. All the while, she and Elena had never lost touch after that initial phone call about Kaia’s ‘Swedish questions.’

While she was at Hammarby, Elena had come to visit her several times (as much as her school schedule allowed), and the more time they had spent together the more the two had realized that what they had went far beyond the bounds of a normal friendship. By the time Kaia was set to go back to Chelsea after her loan, the two had begun dating. 

Elena’s six year medical school program was in Barcelona, and when Kaia went to move clubs to Spain when she was 22, the only offer closer than England had been for Atletico Madrid. The couple had figured that it was better than nothing, and Elena had argued that it would give the Barcelona staff a chance to see how brilliant the English player was. 

And sure enough, she was right, because it was not more than a few months into her contract that they reached out, asking to sign the Lioness after the expiration of her one year contract with Atletico Madrid. 

All of which led them to today, after nearly five years of dating, when Kaia signed her first Barcelona contract, which would keep her in Catalonia for the next four years. 

“I love you so much,” Elena murmured as she tucked herself back into the striker, allowing herself to collapse into the sturdy arms that are wrapped around her. 

The brunette deposited a resounding kiss to the crown of her girlfriends head, cuddling closer to Elena and relishing in the closeness that they never seemed to be able to get enough of. 

And while they don’t know it at the time, they’ll never have to be without one another for the rest of their lives, luckily.

[charliedawn]

what about the Hannibal Family with a reader who makes them little things? Flower crowns, scrapbooks, bracelets, drawings (not great ones, little silly ones)

Hannibal Lecter Sr.

Hannibal Sr. would view your gifts as an intriguing form of affection. He might see the act of creating flower crowns, scrapbooks, and bracelets as a charming attempt to foster connection and loyalty. While he would appreciate these gestures, especially for the thought and creativity behind them, he might also subtly manipulate you into making more, using your offerings to reinforce the bond he has over you. A flower crown on him might look strangely out of place, but he'd wear it for a moment to indulge you, only to carefully place it away later. His appreciation would be tempered with an underlying sense of control

Hannibal Sr. : "Such a thoughtful gift. You must have put in great effort. What else might you do for us, hmm little lamb ?"

Hannibal Lecter Jr.

Hannibal Jr., being the more patient and logical one, would quietly appreciate the thought behind your gifts, though his response would likely be hard to read. He might not react much outwardly but would keep each token in a place of importance, where only he could see. A flower crown on him might feel out of character, but he’d still wear it briefly to humor you before setting it aside. The scrapbooks would be especially significant to him, as they represent moments of family unity, which he values. His reaction might be a simple, "Thank you," though his sincerity would show in the way he preserves each item.

Morgan Hannibal

Morgan might at first see the gifts as frivolous and unnecessary, but he would ultimately understand the effort behind them. His calculative nature might lead him to analyze the intent behind each creation, wondering what you expect in return. He'd accept a bracelet or drawing with a raised brow, but over time, he'd come to appreciate the connection it symbolises. Morgan might not wear the flower crown, but the scrapbook would fascinate him. He would likely comment on it with something like, "You've captured something interesting here. I do appreciate your care behind the details…"

Kevin Hannibal

Kevin, with his impulsive and creative nature, would genuinely appreciate the handmade gifts. His artistic side would love the uniqueness of your creations, even if they’re a bit silly. He might joke about the flower crown but wear it proudly, seeing it as a symbol of your loyalty and care. The scrapbooks and drawings would be something he admires frequently, perhaps even offering to help you improve your art skills. His blunt nature would lead him to tease you about the quality of your creations, but his loyalty would shine through, and he’d be fiercely protective of each item, saying something like, "You made this for me ? Well, I guess it's not terrible. I might keep it." And then keep it in his room in a frame or on a shelf to admire it every time he goes to sleep.

Peter Hannibal

Peter would likely be the most enthusiastic of them all about the gifts. His generous and obsessive nature would have him treasuring each and every gift, especially since they represent affection from someone he cares about. A flower crown on Peter would look almost natural, given his gentle exterior and angelic face, and he'd likely wear it far longer than necessary. He might tear up over a scrapbook, becoming overly emotional as he flips through the pages, obsessing over the memories and meanings behind each one. His response would be full of heartfelt gratitude.

Peter: "You really care about me, don't you ? I—I’ll keep this forever. Thank you, Y/N."

[bloomeng]

Shout out to the person who noticed Steph was the only one in heels and said Dick would totally wear heels. You didn’t know it but you were ahead of your time (it was always my plan to put discowing in heels).

Steph originally wasn’t going to get heels but then I got the idea to add the wings and I fell in love but I think the in universe reason is she wanted them for the drama and she was extrapolating design elements from Batgirl’s og outfit and Batwoman. I was going for like a gothic princess sort of vibe which turned out a bit more Fischl from gi than I intended, but I think that actually suits the vibe pretty well.

Another shoe detail: Jason’s shoes are meant to be slight platforms to match his desire to be tall and imposing.

This is a side tangent but I want to talk about it. For this au I’ve been trying to strike a balance between feminine and “would this character actually wear this?” Now the answer is mostly no. The outfits by nature are impractical as hell bc that’s how magical girl media is, so the question I’ve been asking is more “would this character feel comfortable in this outfit?” I want each look to be equally feminine which means I’m hyper conscious of not making the women more feminine than the men. Magical girl designs are hyper fem by default so my goal is to basically make everyone relatively the same amount of fem.

However, I’m also trying to take into account personality. This is where I might lose some people but hell it’s my au. So why are Jason and Cass the only ones so far with real skirts? This is totally my headcanon but I think they’re the only ones who would benefit from skirts:

Dick would be fine with wearing a skirt but I think he’s ultimately neutral about it. He would totally do it though if someone asked and would be fully aware of how nice he looked.

I don’t know if I’d say Tim would like wearing skirts so much as he doesn’t care. He’s more concerned with practicality.

Steph doesn’t have any issues with skirts but I think as a part of her uniform she would feel stifled. As as I said previously I think part of her look is based on Bats she would’ve looked up to but also partly it was secret wish fulfillment for that little girl who would’ve loved to look like a kickass mary sue demon princess from a y/a novel.

Duke in my opinion wouldn’t see the appeal. I think he’d be similar to Dick but just a little more shy about wearing one. I gave him a little ruffle though bc I thought it was cute.

Babs is fine with skirts but tends to prefer pants.

Cass is a bit different because I think wearing something frivolous is so novel to her. I wanted her outfit to be a blend of her canon design and her appreciation for dance. I tried to contrast her more practical elements (like her pants and armor) with the soft things I think she would enjoy (like a flowy skirt.) I still have ambition to go back and design a Black Bat outfit for her but I haven’t quite figured out the direction I want to take with it.

Jason on the other hand— this also very much in hc territory— I think didn’t know how much he would enjoy a skirt until he got to wear one. Stepping away from the universe for a sec; Jason is the most masculine design fundamentally which means that in order to match the vibe I would have to make him the furthest from his canon design. I’m really not trying to make a statement or subvert things by putting men in skirts bc it’s supposed to a silly au with aesthetically pleasing designs. I like feminine things and it shows in my work however I don’t see clothing as naturally gendered. That’s my little context psa back to my point. I think Jason is the most likely to wear a skirt and actually feel empowered by it. At first I think he was embarrassed by it but the outfits choose you so he just went with it out of necessity. And through that he found he really thrived in the juxtaposition between his intentional imposing figure and this unashamed femininity. He’s a drama kid at heart and fr what’s more dramatic than an ill-advised fit that serves. The skirt to him feels like a costume that helps give him the confidence to be Red Hood or ig… Red Bow. (Which is sorta how I think of the red helmet in canon but I also do believe that Jason and Cass would have the most fun wearing a skirt.)

I haven’t decided if Bruce will get a skirt or not but if he does just know that my reasoning is that his artifact was humbling him. Like you take yourself too seriously calm down with the brooding. He would use the skirt as a way to conceal more weapons.

(I think Kon would love wearing skirts but in this au because he built his own outfit I think he was trying to seem impressive and edgy and distinguish himself from Clark. I also think, despite enjoying skirts, he would have to work up the courage to wear them in public and never as Superboy because he would be too conscious of his image.)

Anyway I don’t claim to always succeed with my intentions coming through in my work but this is what is running through my head.

[writersdelight]

Hiii! I hope you're having a good day. I absolutely adore Husk, I just wanna smother him with hugs 😆

Could you write one with him and reader that takes place the night before extermination day? They love each other but are scared to admit it. Ultimately Angel Dusk convinces him to confess since 'tomorrow is never guaranteed'.

Lots of fluff and love please! Thank you! ❤️

“ I don’t know what to say..”

Husk/Reader fluff before the Extermination. Not long.

Word count: 842

———————————————————————

-> Content: Fluff, I hope this is tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, mentions of dying, not-proof read (we die like Adam)

-> Author’s note: My first request! Ajdjdgj. I don’t think I’ve written fluff ever, but I swear I tried my best. Tysm, Anon! I’m having a great day.

———————————————————————

Husk hadn’t been interested in making his feelings known during his life and that was all the more prevalent in death. When living in a place like Hell, you gotta be safe, keep your card close to your chest or someone will take advantage of you. He knew that all too well.. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have certain soft spots..

He liked how you were so genuine, it’s part of what he loves about you. He knows he loves you- he’s good at understanding people and that includes himself. Even if it’s something.. that’s hard for him to admit. Something about the prospect of letting someone in like that is unnerving.

There was only a day left until the Extermination. The rest of the hotel residents were celebrating, trying to live it up before the battle tomorrow. There were some residents who were calmer.. one was Angeldust or well.. Anthony. He appreciated the change he saw in Angel.. Though in the moment with Angel at his bar, he knew the other could tell something was on his mind.

“ …you thinking about tomorrow, whiskers? It got you worried?”

“ ‘Course not. I’m just thinkin’ of how we might run out of booze at this rate.”

Husk laughed the question off, gesturing the empty bottles around the bar. Angel knew that he was lying. With the entire exorcist army about to be on their doorstep, there was practically no chance any of them would making it.. even you. He both loved and hated that you’d be fighting by his side. He loved your passion, the way you wanted to protect your loved ones, but that’s just it: he wants to protect you. You’re safest far away from there.

“ That’s bull and you know it. You’re worried.. but I don’t think you’re worried about you. I think it’s someone else. Someone special to ya~”

As he danced around outright saying the name, he gestured with all four of his hands over to you. You were wrapped up in a conversation with Cherri Bomb at the moment, talking about who knows what. Husk’s gaze followed Angel’s movements… he wasn’t wrong.

“ ……..………”

“ I knew it! You ain’t denying it.”

Angel had a grin on his face as if it was the most satisfying moment in his afterlife (though it certainly wasn’t).

“ You gonna make a move before it’s too late? Say something you need to?”

“….. I don’t think there’s anything I can to say. It’s.. complicated.”

Angel looked at him, taking the situation more seriously than he had before.

“ ….Husk, Buddy, tomorrow ain’t guaranteed. We both know it... so why not go tell your special little someone how you feel..? What’s there to lose?”

———————————————————————

The party had died down, most people were talking amongst themselves at this point… He had to gather himself to work up the nerve to go through with the confession. He knew that he loved you, he was almost positive you felt the same way, but that didn’t take the edge off of this type of deal. He took a breath before walking over to you..

“ Hey.. you mind joinin’ me upstairs?”

He wanted to be somewhere more private for this. Just the two of you.

“ I don’t mind at all.. something up?”

“ Nothin’ to worry about, doll.”

He guided you to the stairs. Once you two were at the top, he led you straight to his room.. you had never been in there. It was.. sort of nice. Certainly dingy. It’s exactly what you thought a man like him would have.

“ …what is this about?”

“ ……….”

He took a moment to figure out his words.. how can he say this? There are so many wrong ways to put it and the possibility of doing it right was slim to none.

“…..we might die tomorrow-”

“ I know that. There’s no where I would rather be than here. Someone needs to show these angels what happens when they pick a fight.”

You interrupted.

“ This isn’t about the damn fight- this is about you. Doll… I.. got feelings for you- I love you. I need you to know incase we’re both double dead tomorrow..”

He was almost surprised to hear the words leave his own mouth much less the surprise you felt.. your eyes met his in the moment after he confessed. There was a silence.

You had felt the same way, how couldn’t you? But putting it to words and saying what you both knew aloud..?

“ I-”

Husk couldn’t finish his sentence as you moved, tightly hugging him. You could feel him loosen up slightly, he had been so tense.. slowly he hugged back.

“…I feel the same, Husk.”

He smiled a bit.. his wings wrapped around you, pulling you closer. It was like you two were the only people in all of hell and that’s the way he likes it. You’re one of the best things that’s happened to him.

Tomorrow may not be guaranteed.. but you two will always have tonight.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#4: The Bench (1.01)

gif cred: @arabellas

After Rick expresses some emotional turmoil alone in his apartment there's an instant cut to Rick sitting alone on a bench outside during a nice day, and I really like this shot. Also, knowing he’d have dreams about falling in love with Michonne on a park bench, I like to think that this actual bench is one of the places Rick would go to daydream about her some more. And while right now he can only be with Michonne in his head, a visit from his one friend in this place reinstills Rick's hope that maybe there's another way to reunite with Michonne in reality...

Rick stares at the city across the water and it’s clear that the Civic Republic is not a place of hope to him but of imprisonment. Even if it’s a technical upgrade in lifestyle, it’s still a symbol of him giving up on his cherished life from before. And he is so not ready to do that yet so he’s trying to avoid being brought into that place as best he can. 

As he sits quietly for some time just taking in the day it feels like this is one of the few moments of calm in his otherwise depressing routine, even though he still is clearly so weighed down. Also, it’s funny how even tho he was in his apartment and could have washed up, he instead decides to sit on the bench looking like a madman covered in blood. 🤭

gif cred: @candiedblue

So then Rick hears a friendly voice as Esteban Garcia approaches - Rick's one friend here.

Esteban immediately wants to talk about the insanity of Rick cutting off his hand. Rick greets him and confirms he did in fact cut off his hand and when Esteban teases asking if he can touch it, for a split second there Rick is not amused as he moves away from him lol.

Esteban confirms he’s just joking around and recalls how Rick didn’t even talk to him or anybody for like two years but Esteban was persistent in continuing to talk to him.

It’s interesting because while many of Rick’s TWD friendships had rocky starts he ultimately built a genuine family with those people. Yet in Philly, Rick never let his guard down enough to build new family ties because everything in him was convinced he’d be with his real family again.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Esteban says “It took a while but we got something now.” Rick nods and Esteban repeats "We got something" as he talks up the hidden city saying while he knows Rick looks at it and just sees Alcatraz he and others look at it and see “that good life, man.” Hearing that just makes me like the use of 'The Good Life' song in TOWL ep 5 even more. Because it shows being on the road and on the run with Michonne is far more the good life for Rick than the Civic Republic. 

It’s sweet seeing Rick soften up just a tiny bit listening to Esteban’s excitement over finally entering a city with air conditioning. Rick smiles and quietly laughs and it’s interesting because you can tell that most people here know Rick as super quiet and stoic when there’s much more to him, like a super affectionate side, he just of course hasn’t really shown them.

Esteban says he’s gonna be in the city walls as of tomorrow because he finally got an upgraded position. And it’s nice seeing Rick seem happy for Esteban even if he himself is miserable under these same circumstances. 

gif cred: @perryabbott

Rick says he should have got Esteban a gift. Gift-giving is truly one of Rick’s favorite expressions of care. And Esteban playfully asks, “What the hell you gonna get me? A scowl?” Lol the consignees and CRM really only know Rick’s grumpy little face.

Rick laughs and then, still the kindhearted guy we know, he thanks Esteban for “whatever this is.” While he’s still more reserved in this friendship I know Rick appreciates at least having one genuine friend here.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

Esteban says “It’s life” and then tries to look on the bright side for Rick that after cutting off his hand Okafor might stop trying to recruit him as a soldier. And then I love the wordless acting Andy does as Rick confirms to Esteban in just facial expressions alone that Okafor still wants him to join the CRM. 

gif cred: @arabellas

Then Esteban plants the idea for Rick’s next steps when he says Rick might as well join just to get Okafor off his back and then make his next move when he’s out there as a soldier scavenging for twine. Rick hears this and you can see his mind going as he realizes it could be a good play.

I know some wondered why Rick didn’t try this sooner but I honestly think he didn’t want to at all make this place seem like it was his people or his home, especially when he was convinced he'd escape and be home in no time. Plus, joining the CRM likely felt like a betrayal of his family and so even just off principle, he didn’t want to give in at first. But now after struggling to escape without conforming several times, he’s seeing maybe he can use conformity to his advantage.

And then the part I really like but also makes me sad (which is the running theme in this ep for me lol) is when Esteban says one thing he hasn’t told Rick, announcing “I got a girl, man, on the inside.” The way Rick looks at Esteban when he shares this 😭, you know the image of Michonne has vividly popped up right to the front of his mind as he listens.

I love the way he plays it where you can tell he’s happy for Esteban because he knows exactly how invigorating it is to find the right one - as a romantic Rick has always been happy to see the people he cares about find their love. We've seen it in the positive way he'd respond to relationships like Glenn and Maggie, Carol and Ezekiel, Jerry & Nabila. But there’s also this clear shade of sadness in Rick's expression as Esteban says this because he’s been away from his true love for several years now. 

Esteban keeps talking about this woman he’s excitedly in a relationship with and Rick slightly looks away, his thoughts consumed with the idea of cooking up a new plan to essentially get off the bench and make an updated play to get back to his own girl. The woman he felt so lucky to find all those years ago. 

So then, Rick approaches Okafor in a room full of plants and dog tags. It's a nice shot.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Also, when Rick enters this room he's wearing all black for the first time, and let me just say Rick in all black is fine on another level 😍.

Now from a metaphorical standpoint, the black clothes have much sadder connotations as the darker apparel shows he’s entering a darker state and losing himself, forced to become more uniform with the CRM...but from a strictly visual standpoint, the man looks great in black. The black fits were always giving. Every single one. 🔥

gif cred: @clonecaptains

A montage shows Rick getting his black prosthetic fist and training with Pearl and others to improve their fighting skills, as Pearl first easily takes him down. Rick also learns to pilot a helicopter as Okafor talks about millet and how if he can find the right one it can change things - obviously alluding to Rick.

We then see Rick take someone down during the training. Look at our baby getting better at hand-to-hand combat. 👏🏽 We know in TWD that wasn’t his strong suit, even tho he always did find a way to come out on top regardless because he's resilient like that. But now he has new fighting abilities under his belt too. 👌🏽

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

The soldiers stand at attention in front of Major General Beale and yell 'Sir, yes, sir' as Rick observes Beale, clearly skeptical of this leader. Even standing in uniform amongst these soldiers, Rick’s A energy is clear.

gif cred: @theoneswholiveblog

Okafor asks “Is that your choice?” as the concept of 'choices' is big to CRM folk.

Then we see Okafor sitting in a helicopter that Rick is piloting which is hot I mean cool lol. (I mean both 😋). But fr it is cool to see this be a full circle moment from Rick seeing that helicopter in the TWD pilot and being called 'helicopter boy' to now being able to pilot a helicopter himself. 

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick looks down at the city while he flies the helicopter and it’s almost like while he’s not yet immersed himself in the Civic Republic/CRM ways, he is at least 'hovering' over it.

Okafor asks, “Is this the end of it and the start of something else?” Rick responds, “It’s the end…and the start” and I think for Rick he very much means this is the end of me being stuck here and the start of my new journey home, which is why he’s even willing to join this military.

The montage ends with Rick in the doctor's office getting aquatinted with his new prosthetic hand and trying out the weapon, showing the new Rick. The Rick who, as Okafor says, has been welcomed into the CRM.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

However, while this is Rick’s initiation into the CRM, his driving motive still has not changed. It's still all about her. 

And that's made clear when even after joining this army, Rick still retreats in his dreams to a happy place that prominently stars his wife’s beautiful smile and presence. He’s still eager for Michonne. And y’all, his dreams know deep down she’s eager for him too. And I’m very eager to talk about it. 😋👌🏽

[gunnrblze]

hiiii!!!! I just wanted to say that I literally adore your obsessed hesh & logan series, I was wondering if you could write a some jealous hc's for the boys who started to notice that reader is slowly drifting away from them and they started to hang out with other soldiers? if not, I completely understand!!! have a good rest of your day, lovely <3

Thank you my dear!!🤍 I’m so sorry this took a million decades for me to get around to lol, but here ya go :) Obsessed AND jealous Hesh and Logan? Oh me oh my

CW: jealousy and obsession of course, toxic behavior, some more slight stalker-ish behavior, nothing intense or anything, ur on base with the both of them in these scenarios again.

Hesh- oh dear, a jealous Hesh is an irritable one I think. I imagine he could hide it well, he’s probably used to hiding jealousy (looking at you Elias family dynamic👀), but it eats him alive, really.

Seeing his precious friend//lover/obsession slowly distance themselves is like a knife to the gut, and he knows exactly how that feels. He’s a little more snarky, a little more hotheaded at times than usual, because what’s going on? Has he done something? Said something to upset you? His darling from above, what’s gotten into you?

He won’t interfere much on your end, but he’d do anything if you’d just come back, sweetheart. Sit with him during mealtimes again instead of with whatever mangy soldiers there are on base. Take walks with him again, clean your guns or do whatever it is that you’ve slowly started to do with others.

His jealously is obvious to those that know him well. Logan and Elias can tell what his deal is, and most of the other Ghosts can tell something’s up with him regardless, but only he can truly understand how consumed his thoughts are. Thankfully he’s busy a lot, but his down time thoughts are riddled with doubt and worry. Was it really all in his head? Do you not appreciate him as much as he you? Are you toying with him? No, you’re too precious to do such a wicked thing, right? He knows you’re too sweet to upset him on purpose. Do you know what jealousy does to a person? Surely you do.

So maybe it’s not you, he reasons. It’s those mutts you’ve been hanging out with more. He doesn’t like those soldiers, regardless of what they have or haven’t done. Because they’ve taken you from him, in his jealousy addled mind. He can’t see it any other way. If they’re his subordinates, he uses intimidation to mess with them, whether he really means to or not. If they’re his superiors, he’s cold, distanced. Only doing and saying the absolute necessity to avoid any repercussions.

He’s smart though, he can handle this even if it bothers him. He may start to take after Logan a bit and follow you around base a little, see exactly what it is you’re doing. He’ll ‘accidentally’ start running into you more, start needing more from you, for work related reasons, and that’s it. If you go on ops with him, you’re basically attached at the hip, only letting you part if necessary. And his voice will still flood your ear on comms, so how far away are you really? You may drift, but he’ll be the life raft that pulls you right back to shore. His jealousy is like an infected wound, sometimes it starts to heal whenever he gets you alone, gets you in his sights, get your attention on him. But when you ultimately keep straying, it flares and festers.

You may be distancing yourself, he may see you with others more than with himself. But no matter how far you you go, you could never get that far, sweetheart. He’s always gonna care for you.

You’re in his heart, whether you wanna be or not.

Logan- now this one I think would let his jealousy shine a bit more. He’s a little younger, not as emotionally developed as Hesh just yet. But like his brother, he gets cranky. You brightened up his days and now they’ve been clouded by some other idiots. So when he sees his darling starting to stray, he does ask.

Asks if you’re okay, at first. He hasn’t seen you around as much, where’ve you been? Are you alright? Did he upset you? It may be the most you’ve heard him talk at once. It doesn’t matter what you say or don’t say, it doesn’t feel like enough of an explanation for him because you still distance yourself. And your mere presence is what he used to thrive on.

His thoughts may take that even more juvenile approach, and he makes it personal whether it is or not. You must hate him now, huh? He must’ve done something to you, angel. Why else would you hang out with people who don’t even know your favorite snacks and drinks or if you prefer sleeping with or without socks? He knows you, do they?

And he goes a little up the wall. Hearing your voice, the smell of you that wafted in the air start to disappear more and more was like someone dangling a carrot in front of him. He was annoyed by you, a bit. He couldn’t stay mad at you, not you, god no. But his feelings were hurt, and he wasn’t too sure how to handle it.

He asked Hesh of course, who gave him an answer that didn’t lead you back to him, ultimately, therefore he didn’t take any of it to heart. He missed you, and watching you around base with other soldiers made his jealousy grow. It felt like vines wrapping around his ribcage, ready to crush them all inward and puncture his poor heart with the shards.

Logan’s approach though is to insert himself once more into your life, he’s not shy. Having lunch with other soldiers? Now you’re having lunch with him too, invite or not. Training? Now you’re training with him. Now you’re walking back to the barracks with him, on ops with him, with him with him with him. He can’t help it.

He’ll still follow you around base like a poor puppy too, and maybe you know he does and maybe you don’t. Perhaps it’s from a distance, the man is a silent giant after all.

You’d have to explicitly tell him to back off if you wanted him too. Until then? You’re still his favorite person, darling, he’s just being a friend.

Even if you’re starting to lack in that department. Don’t worry, he’ll maintain it enough for the both of you.

[rabbitsrants]

PROOF THAT SHINRAN IS ONE OF THE MOST BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN ROMANCES OF ALL TIME - PART 3

if you haven't already read the posts i've linked down below, please make sure to do so before you proceed, cause they're important for context. thank you so much in advance!

CLICK HERE FOR PART 1

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER

as i've already explained in my disclaimer, my ultimate goal with this masterlist is to prove how well written shinran is - it's to demonstrate that they're unquestionably each other's half and the heart of the dcmk universe.

people often minimize the importance that shinichi and ran have in each other's lives by labeling them as boring, predictable "childhood sweethearts" which couldn't be further from the truth.

so far we've established that

1) shinichi doesn't fall for ran gradually, which is what usually happens with dcmk childhood friends, he knows right away that ran's something special.

2) even though they share the same core values, their personalities are very different, which has a positive effect on them individually: ran gets shinichi to come out of his shell and contributes to his emotional growth, while shinichi grounds ran and helps her articulate her feelings.

now it's time to analyze the part i teased in part two already:

they share a soul

god, where do i even begin? this post is probably going to be ridiculously long but it's by far the most crucial part of my analysis, so please bear with me. cause as far as i'm concerned? this is the main reason why shinichi and ran belong together.

don't get me wrong, love at first sight is a beautiful concept and i deeply appreciate the fact that shinichi and ran complement each other, however, they aren't the only dcmk duo that brings out the best in each other.

what sets them apart from other dcmk dynamics in the most meaningful way is the undeniable fact that their hearts are one and the same. but what is that even supposed to mean? let's break it down, shall we?

their intuition

this segment of the break-down deserves its own post, because there are countless instances of shinichi and ran showcasing incredible instincts, but i'll try to keep it concise for now. both shin and ran arguably have a sixth sense. that's already fascinating on its own, but what i'm really trying to home in on is that their intuition offers them great insight into other people's souls. sometimes i get the impression they carry a compass that points at people and tells them who's trustworthy and who's not.

chapter 22

chapter 892

ran has so many reasons to doubt takeshi and shinichi has so many reasons to doubt amuro, but they instinctively know they can trust them. shinichi even feels safe enough to confront amuro, which is incredible, cause my boy takes a huge risk by directly questioning his allegiance.

idk about y'all but i think that's beautiful. it reminds me of an amazing quote from a famous philosopher:

their souls are pure. which is why they're able to recognize that quality in other people and each other.

their optimism

despite all the darkness that shinichi and ran face every single day, they have a really optimistic outlook on life. ngl, their unwavering positivity makes me extremely emotional.

chapter 252

shinichi gets shot by criminals and he's slowly bleeding to death. the detective boys feel like it's their fault that shin got hurt, they blame themselves and feel hopeless. my boy is in pain, he's fighting for his life, he's probably even scared, it'd be more than understandable if he saw their point and regretted the unfortunate situation they found themselves in. but he doesn't:

he chooses to look on the bright side. even in death.

which, fortunately, gets the detective boys out of their dark way of thinking. shin helps them understand that, yes, they're on a bumpy road, but at least it's leading somewhere.

chapter 780

shinichi gets a culprit to reveal he's from the kansai region by successfully provoking him with a fake accent, but shin doesn't just piss off the culprit, he also pisses off kazuha and heiji, so kazuha begins to wonder whether people from the kansai region are narrow-minded and ran's perspective is something i did NOT see coming:

HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO BE THIS ADORABLE AND WISE?!

just like shinichi ran's able to offer kazuha a surprisingly positive outlook on her concerns, which genuinely makes her feel better.

there are many instances of their unshakable optimism and the effect it has on others, it's really beautiful to examine.

i recommend y'all look into it on your own, cause in this part of my masterlist i merely have the space to touch on shared traits like their great intuition and firm optimism, but now it's time to get into the biggest and most important portion of this analysis!

their idealism

i hope y'all read the disclaimer i've linked at the beginning! if you haven't, i urge you to read it before you continue with this post!

shinrans shared idealism is something i've already mentioned in part two of my masterlist, but there's so much more to say about it:

i'd argue that it's the main thing that connects them. not to shade my own children, but they value justice and human life so much, for most people, including me, it sometimes borders on stupidity.

but that's the thing, shinichi kudo and ran mouri aren't most people.

cause most dcmk characters 1) don't initially share their virtues and 2) question their admittedly heroic but also terribly reckless actions, whereas shinichi and ran support and admire each other because of it. because they're the same.

i'm about to give a few examples of shinichi and ran being the most idealistic characters in the manga and for the purpose of full context, i have to showcase the contrast between shinran's morals and the values of other characters. i appreciate and care about every single character who's brought up in the next part of my essay, so don't take this post as an invitation for hostility towards them, that's not my goal, okay? okay. let's proceed.

a) sense of justice and heroism

chapter 239-240

shinichi impulsively investigates the black organization. haibara repeatedly reminds him that he's being reckless and putting himself in danger, she even mocks his strong sense of justice and initially refuses to join his investigation because she's smart and values self preservation. haibara ends up joining him after all, but keeps urging him to drop his investigation and leave with her.

i don't blame her one bit for her approach to the situation... truth be told, her reaction makes a lot more sense to me than shinichi's 😂 but that's because i share her pragmatism.

at this point in the manga shinichi and haibara have zero support. neither the fbi, nor the cia is helping them. it's incredibly dangerous for them to go after the black organization completely alone and it's not just unsafe for them individually either, it's risky for everyone they care about. their exposure would endanger a lot of people, including agasa, ran, kogoro, the detective boys, etc...

and safety concerns aside, why would she care about justice in that situation anyway? how could she, a teen who's trapped in a child's body, possibly hold the black organization accountable without any help?

so yeah, i strongly believe that if you look at the situation logically, haibara's point of view makes a lot more sense than shinichi's and it's fair of her to choose safety over justice, especially when the latter seems so impossible achieve.

too bad that shinichi doesn't give a flying fuck about things like common sense or self preservation. he's completely driven by idealism, it's what defines him as a person, in more ways than one. the only person in the dcmk universe who accurately mirrors his righteousness is ran mouri and it expresses itself through countless parallels that completely contrast haibara's position in chapter 239-240

chapter 44

shinichi pretty much lashes out at the murderer for personal reasons which i dive into here. on top of that, he's passionately opposed to the culprit's idea of using justice as a reason for murder and guess what? ran unsurprisingly feels the same way:

chapter 313

the obvious observation here is that their speeches are remarkably alike, but what i find even more fascinating is the fact that the killers react so similarly. shinran's sense of justice is so powerful, it doesn't just guide their own actions, it even moves morally corrupt people and holds them accountable.

furthermore, the concept of personal safety is completely lost on both shinichi and ran lol.

they constantly risk their lives for other people, including haibara, who, as we already established, initially disregards heroism.

chapter 289

chapter 434

AHHHHH!!! THE PARALLELS ARE KILLING ME

anyway, i'm not trying to undermine the beauty and complexity of haibara's character, she's incredibly well written and i think it's important to emphasize that she's actually attempting to sacrifice herself in both of these chapters.

i actually really appreciate the fact that haibara is this complicated person with a rough background who slowly figures out her values with the help of her friends, imo it gives her layers.

i'm simply pointing out that upon her initial introduction her virtues instinctively differ from shinran's, it takes her some time to grow into the same kind of heroism that shinichi and ran display from the get-go. because they inspire her. but i'll go over that in a minute.

b) they value human life

one of shinichi's main attributes has always been his profound interest in human life. it's a quality that i never questioned until recently because i always figured it was due to his work as a detective.

but the more i think about it, the less it works as an explanation because we know a lot of detectives in the dcmk universe who don't share his interest in protecting people at all costs.

interestingly enough, there is a character who shares his passion but it's not someone who professionally deals with human life - it's just a compassionate, tenderhearted girl who instinctively wants to keep others safe no matter what.

chapter 1026

ran saves a murderer from suicide

which reminds me of shinichi attempting to do the same in another chapter:

chapter 67

he tries so hard... but unlike ran he ultimately fails.

and who's there to comfort him? who's the only person in the whole world who naturally understands his sorrow, who truly knows how valuable human life is and wants to protect it just as much as he does? ran. of course it's ran.

and it will always be ran.

having said that, analyzing shinran's idealism is beyond fascinating to me because i rarely share their virtues or courage. my values are more aligned with the rest of the dcmk universe:

chapter 153

shinichi notices that a culprit is about to kill herself and gets in the way of her plans. heiji's response resonates with me a lot.

CAUSE YEAH, what's the point of keeping someone alive against their will? isn't that infinitely crueler than just letting them die? maybe.

but shinichi and ran don't give a fuck lol. they don't stop the murderers suicide attempts because they're heartless though. it's the opposite, really.

as we already established, both shinichi and ran are optimists at heart, so they believe or least hope that people can always better themselves. i think that's the main reason why the interfere.

besides, shinichi and ran simply care too much about justice - they need culprits to be held accountable and they respect human life too much to allow suicide.

again, do i share their passionate interest in human life? LOL, hell no. i think very few people are capable of being that idealistic. most people, including me, value innocent life but shinichi and ran? they value life regardless of innocence and on top of that, they even value the lives of people who ARE ACTIVELY TRYING TO KILL THEM

chapter 773

a man is threatening to bomb the detective agency, he could kill ran, kogoro and sera within SECONDS and what does my girl ran do? yeah, she saves his life, LOL!

she's already in immense danger and she's seconds away from being saved, but she goes out of her way and puts herself even more at risk, just to save a guy who's threatening her life. WHY?!

because that's just who she is.

understandably, sera is baffled. she doesn't get it.

which makes sense, cause, again, there's only one character in the entire manga who truly understands ran and passionately agrees with her principles and that's shinichi kudo:

their idealism never wavers. it's perplexing for characters like haibra, heiji, sera and even for me as a reader. it's also extremely inspiring though. which brings me to my next point!

c) they inspire others

chapter 239

remember how haibara initially refuses to join shinichi during his investigation? guess what changes her mind...

even though haibara mocks shinichi's idealism and admittedly doesn't understand it in the beginning, it does get her thinking.

she grows up under terrible circumstances which force her to prioritize her safety over human life, but after watching shinichi for a while, she comes to the realization that she no longer has to live that way.

his unshakable idealism fascinates and encourages her, she's reminded that she has choices now and suddenly she finds herself wanting to do better.

but shinichi isn't the only person who helps her evolve in a pretty significant way:

chapter 313

ran's speech about justice and courage deeply moves haibara in the same way it affects the culprit.

her speech doesn't just give haibra the courage to finally introduce herself to ran after months of avoiding her (for reasons i'll get into in part four of my masterlist) i'd argue it also contributes to her finally facing the black organization in chapter 434

while shinichi helps haibara understand that she has choices now and urges her not to run from her fate, ran motivates haibara to be courageous and face her fate. it's actually incredible how much they help haibara, just by being themselves.

chapter 398-400

check out the blog of my wonderful friend aracaeli who recently brought attention to an extremely underrated chapter which emphasizes that ran doesn't just affect characters like haibara, she even inspires her other half shinichi, which is a remarkable accomplishment, considering their morals are generally completely aligned.

ran's idealism knows no bounds. how could it not move people? especially someone like haibara who's just starting to get familiar with the concept of friendship.

in this chapter ran's idealism inspires countless people (shinichi, haibara, the detective boys, the murderer) it says so much about her character and it's such a touching reading experience.

chapter 153

remember how heiji understandably regrets saving the murderer from suicide after seeing her devastating reaction? shinichi knows exactly what to say:

AGAIN, personally, i don't even blame heiji for his initial views. frankly, i agree with them! but it's really hard not to be affected by shinichi's powerful words. i can see how they could completely change the mindset of a passionate detective like heiji. and they do.

chapter 188

to the point that heiji's willing to risk his life because of them...

chapter 774

even sera, who can be a bit morally corrupt at times, is impressed with ran's strong virtues:

but that's to be expected, considering that shinichi and ran even had an impact on vermouth who's an established, ruthless serial killer.

i know, i already extensively talked about the new york case in part two, but it's such an important chapter for shinran that i feel the need to bring it up again, especially if it's going to continue the wonderful discourse i've been having about it with amazing bloggers like sakublogs who i urge you to check out!

chapter 353

this case is so, so special to me because it fundamentally captures the essence of shinran.

vermouth is about to take ran's life but the railing she is leaning on breaks and she's about fall to her impending doom... until ran intuitively grabs her arm and tries to save her:

you'd think that shinichi would urge ran to let go, cause that's what any rational person would do, right? but he doesn't. instead he assists ran. again, WHY?

because... they can't fucking help themselves. because THAT'S JUST WHO THEY ARE.

shinichi and ran are completely led by their intuition, optimism and idealism. nobody values justice, courage and human life the way do, it's in their bones and hearts, it's not something they grow into, it's in their nature.

their spiritual connection is their most defining quality as a couple and it's the reason why i'm convinced that shinran is gosho's best written ship and beyond that, one of the most brilliantly written romances of all time.

it's difficult to do shinran justice in condensed essays like this, but i hope i was able to illustrate their amazing personalities and offer some insight into their captivating bond.

it's why i've been closely following their story since my early childhood. they have the same effect on me they have on other dcmk characters. shinichi and ran inspire me, they touch my soul and restore my faith in people. they're not just a cute couple - they're a symbol of hope.

vermouth puts it best:

visit the shinran library for more

[keeshya6]

Worth the Effort

Joel Miller x F!Reader Insert

4.8k words

(18+ only. MDNI. To continue, please click "Read More" below.)

This fic is strongly inspired by the Raider Joel series by @toxicanonymity. My own take on him, of course, but Toxic's version of Joel definitely got the idea bouncing around in my head! Love your Raider Joel, Toxic!

If you aren't familiar with the series, you can find it here: Raider Joel.

This fic takes place a few years after the Cordyceps infection outbreak. I'm not entirely sure of the canon timelines for this time period, but this is canon divergent anyway. In my head it's before Joel gets to the Boston QZ, and Joel hasn't met Tess yet.

There is an element of dubcon to this, due to some glaring imbalances in the power dynamic. However, ultimately, Reader is a willing participant. So it's dubcon-ish.

This is meant as a stand-alone one-shot. However, depending on how ya'll like it, I could see turning it into a series of one-shots.

Please let me know you're thoughts! I hope you enjoy!

CW: Plot-what-plot?, plot-maybe-if-you-squint, dubcon-ish, power imbalance, gruff Joel, blow job, rough blow job, oral sex (male receiving), deepthroating, cum eating, breathplay, hair pulling, manhandling, D/s tones, dirty talk, tears, saliva, size kink, sexual acts outdoors. Please let me know if I missed any.

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The snap of a twig is like ice water thrown over you. It makes your blood run cold with fear and your eyes widen as you straighten up from adding another log to the fire. You turn towards the sound, unsure of exactly where it came from, your breath caught in your throat, eyes searching the surrounding trees.

Other than the occasional sounds of a bird or small critter, it’s been quiet since early morning. So much longer than normal. You wouldn’t usually have started a fire before the rest of your group got back to camp, but it’s going to be dusk soon and the autumn chill will settle in. You figured it would be nice for them to have a warm fire to return to. Maybe some of the ones that don’t really like you would even appreciate it.

Not that you’re exactly looking forward to when they return. The leader, Phillip, always likes to ‘celebrate’ a successful run by leading you off to his tent. You play along, make him feel wanted, even if he’s about the furthest from your type as you could possibly imagine. Still, you’re not much good with a gun, so you’re no use out on their raids. You figured out a few years ago that you had to have something to offer in exchange for protection. You’ve gotten pretty good at stitching up gashes and cooking over a fire, but getting ‘friendly’ with the leader of a group like this one has been your best bet, and it's worked out alright so far.

Sure, definitely not the life you imaged for yourself but then again no one ever expected the world to end.

So yeah, you don’t look forward to them coming back to camp, but you also know you’re safest when they are in camp.

But if they were the ones approaching, you know they would be making more noise than whoever… or whatever… is out there right now.

Your eyes dart around the trees and you carefully back away from the fire towards the opposite tree line of the small campsite. Meanwhile you pull a small revolver from the pocket of your jacket, hands trembling and eyes wide.

The soft crunch of fallen leaves to the left has your focus snapping that direction, shakily raising the pistol. There’s an inhuman groan from beyond the brush and a terrified sob lodges in your throat.

Shit. Where the hell did an infected come from? This area has been clear for weeks!

A startled cry nearly tears out of you, though it’s cut off by the hand suddenly clamped over your mouth from behind, as you’re pulled roughly back into something firm.

“Don’t move or make a fucking sound,” an unfamiliar voice growls softly into your ear as the stranger’s other hand snaps out to snatch the pistol from your hands. He holds the gun out in front of you, his hand much steadier than yours ever would have been, as you freeze against him, mind whirling and eyes wide above the hand over your mouth.

When an infected stumbles into view beyond a large group of bushes you bite back another terrified sob. The unfamiliar hand stretched out before you doesn’t hesitate though, squeezing the revolver’s trigger.

You wince as the gun fires, and the infected turns towards you, only for the bullet to lurch its head around before it unceremoniously drops to the leaf strewn ground with a thump.

You, and the stranger you’re still pressed against, remain frozen for what feels like forever, listening and watching the trees.

“Looks like it was alone,” he says lowly, finally unwrapping his hand from across your mouth and stepping back from you, taking your pistol with him.

Trembling, you spin to face him, eyes widening again as you come face to barrel with your own pistol. Your hands lift into the air and you tear your eyes away from the gun and to the brown eyes of the man holding it.

“Please…don’t…”

Those dark eyes glance over you, hard and cold. “If you’ve got any other weapons on you, I strongly suggest you let me know and drop them right now.”

You give a quick, negative shake of your head. “I-I don’t. The pistol is all I had.”

His eyes leave you for a moment, darting around the camp before leveling on your face again. “Where is everyone else?”

“I…I don’t know,” you admit, daring to barely shrug. “They left early, to go find supplies. Left me to watch the camp. They…they’d usually b-be back by now.”

A relieved sigh escapes you as he barely lowers the pistol. At least you don’t have to look down the barrel any more.

His head cocks to one side slightly. “What’s this group look like?” he demands.

“Um…” you hesitate, biting your lip. Giving information to a complete stranger seems like a bad idea. You know Phillip will be pissed off if he finds out.

The stranger gives a faint snarl and lifts the gun again, making you anxiously pat the empty air between you.

“Okay… okay. There’s seven of them. Five men. Two women. The l-leader is kind of tall, bald, and lanky… like, like a skinny biker guy…”

He pauses and then nods, lowering the gun between you and straightening up to his full height as he looks around the camp again. “Well, they ain’t comin’ back. Took them out a few hours ago when they tried to jump my group. Sorry, Darlin’.”

That might be the coldest and most insincere “Sorry” you’ve ever heard in your life.

It takes a few moments for your thoughts to catch up with the news as your heart hammers and your eyes widen, darting around frantically. “Oh fuck…” you barely whisper.

The stranger studies you as dread settles over you and then, apparently deciding you aren’t a threat, he tucks your gun into the back of his pants and steps off to the side to kick at a couple of the sleeping bags laid out around the fire.

You don’t notice at first, your mind running rampant with the implications of Phillip’s death, but when you do notice you turn towards him with some measure of indignation. “Hey! You can’t just-”

The words lodge in your throat as he spins on you again in the middle of rummaging for supplies, the pistol materializing back into his hand, though he doesn’t bother to raise it. You also can’t help noticing that he has a rifle slung over his shoulder, so obviously he didn’t need your gun.

“I ‘can’t’ what?” he snaps back at you.

Eyes wide, you stare at him for several moments before speaking again, keeping your voice as calm as you can. “Please. This is all I have now…”

He huffs at you and looks down to kick at another sleeping bag. “Tough luck, darlin’.” His dark eyes lift to you again, brows drawn together in obvious confusion. “How did you even end up left here? Don’t seem much use to watch camp, if you can’t hold a gun without shaking…or much use at all, for that matter.”

You bristle a little at that, but then sigh. He’s not exactly wrong.

“I…do other things. Cook, first aid, wash clothes…other things…” Your voice trails off.

His head cants at you again and, for the first time, he seems to really look at you. Study you. In fact, his eyes drag over you and then he arches a brow, obviously guessing at what you’d left out.

“Oh really? ‘Other things’?”

Your cheeks flush with warmth, but you tick your chin upward slightly, holding your head high and narrowing your eyes at him. “Fuck you and your judgement.”

The first hint you’ve seen of any emotion crosses his face. Amusement. He smirks.

“Oh, I ain’t judgin’ you, Darlin’,” he says, crouching down to scoop up a can of baked beans that had been under a sleeping bag. His eyes quickly return to you as he straightens up again, stepping over to a backpack you hadn’t noticed before to tuck the can into a side pocket. “Difficult times and all that. Just got me wonderin’ if those ‘other things’ are worth the effort of takin’ you back to my camp with me… or if I ought to just leave you out here on your own.”

That sets your mind to reeling again and your haughty expression disappears as your brows pull together with concern.

What are you going to do now?

It’s your turn then, to really look at him for the first time. To study him.

Tall and broad. About forty, you would guess, with dark curly hair and a patchy beard, both just starting to sport a bit of gray. Plush lips. A strong, curved nose. You’re guessing the tan is natural, though you can’t see much of it given that he’s wearing a long sleeved, buttoned up flannel shirt and jeans with boots and a jacket. And then there’s those dark eyes that seem to pierce through you.

He’s handsome. You can’t deny that.

Then again. Does that matter, given your predicament? It’s just a bonus, really. At least, unlike Phillip, this guy is actually your type.

Biting your lip, you take a deep breath and let your eyes meet his once more. Your head slants and you let the faintest of smiles touch the corners of your mouth.

“I am good at the ‘other things’,” you admit.

That makes him laugh and you’re surprised to see a dimple crease his cheek. It’s not a mirthful sound though. If anything, it’s condescending.

“Oh, Darlin’. You’d have to claim that, wouldn’t you? To save your own skin?”

Biting back a retort, you manage to keep the pleasant smile on your face even as your thoughts jump through a few hoops to consider options.

Turning more fully towards him, you realize your hands are still held up and you slowly lower them to clasp behind you, consciously giving a slight arch to your back to accent the curves of your chest through your own jacket as you look up at him.

“Well, yes,” you admit, “but I could also… show you.”

He gives another chuckle, letting his gaze drop to your torso for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “No lingerin’ loyalty there, hm?”

Your shoulders lift in a slight shrug. “We weren’t exactly close. Plus, if they’re dead, what’s loyalty going to get me? Other than dead, too?”

He studies you again for a few moments, a smirk still touching his lips, before he nods in agreement. “True. So…” He pauses, his tongue tracing his teeth behind his lips. “...what are you offering?”

“Pretty much anything you want,” you say, keeping your tone as steady as possible despite your nervousness, “but only for you, as long as you can keep me safe.”

There’s another pause and then he chuckles darkly. “Oh, that’s a wide net, Darlin’,” he says, his voice taking on a rumbling note. “But I meant right now, to prove you’re worth the effort.”

You blink a few times, biting your lip and letting your eyes dance down his tall frame again. At noting the slight bulge at the front of his jeans that wasn’t there a moment ago, you barely manage to keep from smirking. You obviously have his attention, but his agreement isn’t close to secure yet. No need to get too confident.

Returning your eyes to his, you do let a coy smile tug at your mouth as you dare to slowly take a step closer to him, glad to see he doesn’t tense or lift the revolver again.

“Well… the offer is the same. ‘Pretty much anything you want’.”

It feels like it takes forever for him to respond, and he does by tucking the pistol into the back of his jeans again and stepping closer to you, closing the distance so you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His hand lifts to adjust the strap of the rifle on his shoulder and you notice he’s wearing a broken wrist watch. Before you can even think to comment though, he reaches out to catch your chin in that hand, and he turns your head side to side, taking in the details of your face.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until your lungs start to burn and you slowly force yourself to inhale, all the while keeping your eyes on his.

“What’s your name?” he demands lowly.

You tell him, and then barely arch a brow at him to silently ask the same.

He hesitates while his eyes linger on your lips. “Joel.”

“Joel…” you repeat his name softly, after swiping your tongue out across your lips to wet them, forming the word like it’s something decadent.

His eyes darken and a faint smirk appears again after a few heartbeats pass.

“Oh… you do know what you’re doing.”

You can’t help returning his smirk and giving a faint shrug. No point in denying it.

Joel’s thumb brushes over your lower lip then, stopping in the center of it and barely pressing down, watching the tender flesh pillow to either side. Then those dark eyes lift to look around before coming back to yours and his voice takes on a slightly deeper tone from in his chest.

“How about you show me what this pretty mouth can do, Darlin’? We’ve got maybe half an hour before it gets dark. So you’ve got that long, before I head back to my camp…with or without you.”

You study his face as you consider, briefly.

There was a time when you would have been appalled at the thought of going down on a complete stranger, but like he said, ‘difficult times’. Besides, now that you’re close to him you can see that he at least tries to keep clean and doesn’t even smell badly. You could never claim the same of your now, apparently, deceased protector.

Maybe Joel is an upgrade?

That faintly optimistic thought lingers and you give a little nod of your head with another coy smile, letting your tongue trace over your lips once more. “Okay…”

With a smirk, Joel’s fingers give a firm squeeze to your chin before releasing it, and then he holds his hands out and down at his sides, his head tilting to the side.

An invitation to proceed.

Swallowing thickly, you take a deep breath and nod, hesitantly reaching out to him. When he doesn’t move to stop you, your hands slip under the edges of his jacket to touch his chest and then trace your fingertips downward. You can’t help noticing the muscles beneath the fabric, even where there’s a little softness at his stomach. It reminds you of working men you used to know, before the world ended, and briefly has you wondering what he was before that fateful day.

Pushing those distracting thoughts aside, you focus on the task at hand, your fingers deftly working open the belt looped into his jeans while you shift your weight and sink down to your knees, your eyes lingering on his face as you do.

The smirk on his lips lifts a bit, his tongue darting out over them as his hand cups under your chin again briefly. “Hmmm… lookin’ awful pretty down there, Sweetheart.”

You snort a faint laugh at him, which has him giving you a shameless grin that shows off that dimple again. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but at least he isn’t completely without humor.

When he releases your chin again you finally let your eyes drag down his torso to where your hands work open the front of his jeans. You find boxers underneath them and tug the jeans down just enough so you can reach your hand into the flap of the boxers and wrap your fingers around his hidden cock. Your eyes widen a little again as you carefully pull him free, a hiss escaping above you.

He’s only semi-hard but already impressive. Long and thick with a slight curve. Once he’s fully hard (and he’s hardening more just with your hand wrapped around his base) you have little doubt he’ll be larger than any you’ve taken before.

Well, shit, what have you gotten yourself into?

There’s a dark chuckle above you and you glance up at his face, finding his head canted to the side again.

“Think you can handle it, Darlin’?” he teases.

You blink up at him a few times and then smirk.

You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.

So, in answer, you lean forward and nuzzle your mouth and nose against the underside of his length, eliciting a faint moan. You toss him a smile and he just quirks an eyebrow at you in return. Tilting your head, you mouth at him softly, starting just below his glans and moving downward, all without breaking eye contact.

You can't help noting that your earlier guess had been correct: he at least tries to keep relatively clean. His scent, while decidedly masculine -musky and earthy-, isn’t overpowering or dirty.

A definite upgrade.

Darting out your tongue past where he disappears back into his boxers, you lick at the tender skin where his shaft meets his sac. Watching his face as you do, you’re gratified by the way his teeth clench and a low growl escapes him.

With another coy smile, you let your eyes lower to focus your attention on his dick then, giving him a firm stroke with your hand before flattening your tongue and leaning back in to slowly lick a thick line from base to head, tracing a prominent vein along the underside of his length. The end of your tongue teases the ridge of his glans, before you continue to lick up and over the smooth, blunt tip. You flick your tongue through his slit, getting a taste of tangy, salty precum, and drawing out a rumbling hum from Joel as his cock twitches in your hand.

Glancing up once more, your breath hitches in your chest at the way Joel's eyes have darkened even more and you give a little start at feeling his fingers slip into your hair, his big hand cradling the back of your head. He urges you closer again.

“Come on, Darlin’,” he growls, “time's a-wastin’.”

You hesitate only a moment, finding yourself a bit enthralled by that look in his eyes. But the pressure of his hand increases and you gasp in a breath, snapping out of your stupor and nodding quickly, focusing once more with your heart hammering in your chest.

Wetting your lips with a sweep of your tongue, you part them to feed his cock into your mouth with one hand wrapped around his base. You have to open wide to accept his girth and your brows arch in surprise as you realize he's still growing harder in your hand and on your tongue, for the first few moments he’s inside your mouth.

Fuuuuck… He’s big.

You're grateful when he seems to finally come to full erection a few breaths later, feeling like steel wrapped in velvet. Much more and you might have had to spontaneously learn to unhinge your jaw.

Massaging the underside of him with your tongue, you draw his turgid length further in and hollow your cheeks around him. You give as much suction as you can as you take more of him, breathing through your nose shallowly.

The deep groan he gives is encouraging, as is the increasing pressure of his hand on the back of your head, pushing you further down on him. When his cockhead bumps the back of your mouth, making your gag reflex kick in and your body jolt, his voice is an unsympathetic snarl above you, between breaths that are getting more jagged.

“Better relax and take it, Sweetheart. You got…one shot at this…and tossin’ your dinner on me will be a…sure way of gettin’ left behind…”

You give a muffled mewl around the hard flesh in your mouth, earning you another dark chuckle. He doesn’t relent though.

Gulping in a bit of air at the last moment, you will your jaw and the muscles in your neck to relax, as he pushes past the constriction and into your throat. You can feel the tender skin stretch around his intrusion and tears prick at your eyes. Soon the rest of your body tenses, urging you to struggle, to fight for air. Your eyes flutter as you resist that urge, forcing your throat to accept more as he pulls you in, until your nose is nestled into the cotton of his boxers and pressed against the coarse hair underneath it.

He holds you there.

Every muscle begins to tremble as you fight against that instinctual imperative to lash out until your lungs taste sweet oxygen again. You look up at him, his towering form obscured as more tears fill your eyes, a few escaping to cascade downward.

And yet, with every ounce of control you possess, you hold still and accept.

A pleased growl passes Joel’s lips as he finally relents and lets you back off, coughing and gasping in air.

“Atta girl…” he rumbles.

Your chest heaves and more tears trail down your cheeks. Your blurred eyes lift back up to his face and, despite it all, you’re surprised by the thrill that darts through you at that tiny bit of praise.

But then his fingers are fisting into your hair again and he’s pushing your mouth back onto his cock.

“One more time, Darlin’,” he husks, “and then you gotta get me off.”

You whimper and frantically inhale again through your nose as he fills your mouth once more, your hands lifting to splay on his thighs. It takes conscious effort to just rest them there without pushing back.

He’s not nearly as patient this time, not only pulling your face down around his length but also flexing his hips to push into your throat faster. You gag again but somehow manage to get it under quick control as his cockhead invades your throat once more, cutting off an involuntary whimper. As he holds you in place this time, your head swims and your lungs burn, your fingers curl into fists against his legs, though you still don't push.

Instinct has you trying to swallow around him and he gives a loud groan.

“Fuuuck, Sweetheart…if your pussy is as wet and tight as your throat…you might be worth the trouble after all,” he grinds out.

You blink rapidly against the tears streaming from your eyes, startled by the heat that spears through your body at his vulgar words, despite the oxygen-deprived haze filling your head.

The next thing you know, you're coughing again, pulled off of his dick, desperately drawing in air. His fingers still hold cruelly tight to your hair as you try to catch your breath, though you’re somewhat glad for it, otherwise you might just collapse.

Joel leans down, his stiff cock bobbing heavily between his strong thighs, and reaches with his free hand to cup under your chin, saliva mixed with his precum dripping down it. He guilds your chin up to tilt your tear stained face his way, your lips parted as you pant for air.

“Hmmm…gotta admit, Darlin’, you look awful pretty…with those lips wrapped around my cock,” he softly growls between shallow breaths of his own, a smirk on his lips and a thumb roughly rubbing across your lower lip. “Sun’s almost down though…think you got it in you to make me cum?” he asks with a quirked brow.

You take a few more heaving breaths and then lick your lips, swallowing thickly with a slight wince. Despite the raw ache in your throat, you give him a coy smile and a nod. “Yes…” you rasp.

A cold grin crosses his face and he straightens up, stepping in closer again to let his cockhead bounce against your chin and lips. “Good girl. Show me what you can do.”

Blinking more of the haze out from your eyes, you reach up to wrap your fingers around his saliva slicked base again and guild him back into your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks once more, you suck firmly and quickly begin to bob your head in towards his hips, stroking along his shaft and over the head with your tongue. Your hand moves in time with your movements, fisting him so every inch of his impressive length is stimulated, lips meeting fingers, more saliva easing the glide of skin over skin.

When Joel’s hips begin rocking forward to push a little deeper, you chance a glance upward at the top of one long stroke.

He’s watching you over the curve of his broad, muscular chest, which heaves as he shallowly takes in air, plush lips barely parted. Meanwhile he’s still holding your head with one hand buried in your hair, but he doesn’t try to take control of your movements again.

Oh no, he’s definitely going to make you earn his protection.

You redouble your efforts. Stroking your mouth and hand over him faster. Sucking harder.

His stoic facade finally cracks as his eyes flutter and then close, a loud, drawn out groan escaping. Tilting his head back, his hips begin to rock a little faster to meet the rapid glide of your hand and mouth, his cock throbbing on your tongue. Both of his hands are buried in your hair now, lightly tangled in the locks. He's still not trying to control your movements though; it's still all you doing the work to bob your head and meet his thrusts. They seem more like insurance, in case you change your mind.

Not that you will. You've come too far for that.

When his movements finally start to stutter with soft grunts filling the quiet clearing, you draw him in deep once again. Ignoring the ache it causes, you urge him over the edge, your hand and mouth squeezing around him.

Strong fingers suddenly twist in your hair so tightly that stinging pain erupts across your scalp from the pull, at the same instant that Joel erupts into the warm cavity of your mouth.

Hot ropes of salty semen coat your tongue and the back of your mouth. He holds you there, his length pulsing, giving a couple more shallow thrusts and emptying himself into you with a deep moan that can only be described as obscene.

Then, he’s looking down at you, eyes impossibly dark, skin flushed, panting for breath. A languid smile tugs up one side of his lips as he cups your chin again and traces the side of your mouth with his thumb, where the tender skin is still stretched around his dick, even though it is starting to soften.

His voice is breathy now, but no less commanding.

“Swallow.”

You slowly and carefully inhale through your nose as you meet his intense gaze. Then you tighten your lips around his softening shaft and swallow down his spend, feeling it coat your throat as it disappears.

A pleased hum meets your ears and Joel’s rough thumb brushes across your cheek, wiping away a streak left by your tears. With a nod, he takes a half step back, letting his dick slip free of your mouth with a lewd wet sound, before he releases your face and your hair.

He gives an upward jerk of his chin as he tucks his cock back into his boxers and zips up his jeans. “Get up.”

Still breathing hard, you nod and push yourself to your feet, briefly stumbling. As you find your footing, your eyes widen for a split second at the distinct feeling of slickness gathered between your thighs, no doubt soaking your panties.

You had been so focused on getting him off, that you hadn’t even realized just how turned on you were by the unexpected situation.

It's been a while since that happened.

Pushing the realization aside, you swallow hard, and wince again from the rawness in your throat. Wiping drool from your chin and red, puffy lips, you focus on the man in front of you as he finishes buckling his belt.

If feels like it takes him forever as your heart keeps hammering in your chest, waiting to hear his verdict on your…performance.

Joel’s dark eyes lift back to you and linger (you can only imagine how debauched you look), as his thumbs hook into the pockets of his jeans, his head canting to the side. The corner of his mouth twitches into another faint smirk before he turns on the balls of his feet to take a few steps and scoop up his backpack, slinging it onto the shoulder that isn’t occupied by a rifle.

Your breath stutters, brows pinching together, as a ball of dread drops into the pit of your stomach. Watching him pick up a pack of cigarettes from a sleeping bag and pocket them, your entire body tenses as your mind begins reeling.

What had you done wrong?!

Joel pauses and looks back at you over his rifle shoulder, his voice gruff.

“You’ve got five minutes, Darlin’. Gather up whatever you need to bring along. We're heading out.”

[mrhaitch]

hi mr. haitch!

i was wondering if you could do a character analysis on suguru geto? i have a hard time understanding how his ideology changed, specifically when he takes it to the extreme and wants to eliminate ALL non-sorcerers. i’d also like to hear your thoughts on the dynamic between gojo and geto… their conflicts and how they drifted apart but never permanently resented the other. lastly, if possible, could you touch on how loneliness affected the two and if it had any impact in their actions, both after riko’s death and after their argument when they split paths

thank you so much,

a curious anon

My knowledge of the series is pretty limited so I can only answer with what I've seen and understood, but Geto and Gojo can be looked at as two different reactions to the same trauma: one blames himself and the other blames everyone else.

That's the core to the changes both of them underwent after Riko's death. Gojo was recognised and elevated as the strongest from birth - the linchpin that holds his society together. Despite the swagger and the ego, beneath is a powerful loneliness and detachment. He has been reduced to a function, with no choice other than to fulfill it, and there's a lot of resentment towards Jujutsu society as a result - they took his childhood, his humanity. His whole identity is based on being the strongest, and yet when he found something he wanted to protect - he failed. Since Riko's death we see evidence of constant effort to master his abilities, to better fulfill his role but at the cost of sinking deeper into the expectations of others. Even so, Gojo comes away with a greater appreciation for the vulnerable, especially children.

Geto, however, did not suffer the same societal pressure - everything about him, his place in the story, is a result of choice and agency. He wants to be a sorcerer, wants to get stronger to protect the weak, he wants to work with Gojo to better the world. When we first meet him, he views his abilities as a means to realise his desires, his ambitions, and - fundamentally - his values.

Riko's death, and everything that followed, robbed him of that ability to choose. Her death meant nothing, a new vessel was found, the world didn't end, everyone moved on. Gojo internalised his feelings of failure and forged on - seemingly unmoved. Geto threw everything he had at saving and avenging her and it changed nothing.

I'll pause here and say that I think Geto and Gojo saw different things in Riko: Gojo saw someone weaker than himself forced into fulfilling a role, Geto saw someone exemplary and unique murdered by the powerless. Perhaps (and remember I'm not an expert here) she came to stand for all of Jujutsu society in his mind - someone with an inherent greatness or importance sacrificed for the sake of people who lack the strength to protect themselves. She was the ultimate realisation of his early beliefs (the strong serving the weak) and it proved to be horrible, far removed from what he envisaged.

But let's focus on their reactions: Gojo went further into himself, into his role, aspiring to realise his full strength to protect others. Geto stopped growing - became bitter, twisted, blaming everyone but himself. He thinks himself a liberator, but in truth he is motivated by an endless appetite for revenge - to take his pain and inflict it on everyone else. It's a response common among men who struggle to regulate and manage their anger and personal set-backs, looking to displace their own negative emotions and push them onto someone else: believing it'll lessen their own pain.

All of this is just supposition, though. Fundamentally Geto is a violent racist, with a fascistic worldview built around strength as some kind of valorous ideal - gleefully inflicting pain and suffering on others. We can empathise with his journey, but we don't have to forgive his actions.