#i just love them sm they make me so happy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjunbug · 2 days ago

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hehe don’t even worry about it!! ♡♡ i’m so happy that i can finally read all your love thoughts on the prologue!! i’ve been waiting for this~~ but will do! 🫡

THE PLAYLISTTTT!!! i spent so much time on it hehe i’m glad that you like it!! and hehe the bog bodies i love that song so much and it fits so well with the future chapters too!! i’m excited for you to see it all ^^

but omg you got the subtle foreshadowing here!!! i love YOUU!!! and the worldbuilding hehe i’m so so happy that you like it so much!! and your super sweet words… stop i could cry. i’m so happy that my writing comes off so atmospheric and so visual that you can see the words like a movie!!! that’s like the greatest compliment ever and one of my goals, so you have no idea how glad i am to hear this!!! ♡♡ and published fantasy books??? i’m sobbing rn omg thank you?????

but yes!!! change is so so jarring and is literally nothing like how the (older) adults in our lives explained it to be and i wanted to show that in various ways. it’s something that i personally struggling with a lot and i’m so comforted but the fact that so many others can relate to me with this and also feel comforted by my words about it!! it truly reminds me that we aren’t in this all alone ♡♡♡

LMAOO😭 you asking if she’s a slave is killing me PLSS,,, i wouldn’t say she’s a slave, but she’s kinda like cinderella except there’s no evil stepsisters or anything just her!! her and her evil “mother” lamia lmao… but and the hound playing during all of this??? oh my… that would rip my guts out too… but hehe thank you so much!!! i literally start ascending when people compliment my music taste (∩˃o˂∩)♡♡ and lost playing while kai is introduced???? spotify perfectly lining up songs for you while reading omg,,, don’t even get me started on my blood,,,,,,

me??? a poet???? hehe stoppppp~~ (๑˃ᴗ˂) i use to be completely obsessed with poetry tho, so this is literally like the highest of compliments!!! reminds me of when i was in high school my english teacher had us write poems and she hung mine up for everyone to see for the rest of the time i was in high school lmao. but you complimenting my write,,, i will start crying omg.

but yesss!!!!! i love kai in this sm~~ him being all smooth and being like “well all queens need a king right??” like i’d literally melt on the spot me and mc are the exact same!!! and then him kissing her hand like OMGGGG,,, but yes hehe~~ this is just the prologue you’re not prepared for everything that goes down in chapter one…!!!

it’s okay lmao i laughed writing it😭😭 same with when i came up with green thumbs. i was like WAITTTT??? am i… a genius???? can you tell i spent wayyyy to much time coming up with the names of literally everything?? the oc names, the name of the inn, the name of the school…. hehe so much to tell~~ there’s literally SO much foreshadowing jam packed into this prologue that i’m so curious on how much everyone caught!!!

althea >>>>>>>>> lamia, that’s all i’ll say.

but yes yes yes THIS!!! him immediately going to her and content to just sit with her in silence if need be… literally besides althea, the only people they have in the whole world at that moment is each other, it’s so strangely comforting and so sad at the same time!! but i’m so happy that you like the dialogue!!!!! you don’t understand how many times i reread all of the paragraphs out loud just to make sure everything flowed well and that the dialogue didn’t seem so clunky… like it was kinda embarrassing but i’m so happy that it came out well!!!!!

and the artwork that inspired all of this!!!! you don’t understand as soon as i saw it i was like YES!!!!!! i need to write something about that IMMEDIATELY. i love artists and writers and poets so so much too, where would the world be without them??

but yes hehe all of the comparisons, i’m so happy that you caught it!!!! and i’m so happy you liked the inner dialogue too!!! i kinda did it a different way so i’m happy that it all paid off!! BUT YOURE LITERALLY SO SWEET AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AHHH!!! (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )♡♡♡ THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!!!!! TRUST i will publish a book one day and i’ll never forget all the kind things you and so many others said to me that lifted me up so high. literally going straight into my dedications and i’m so serious.

the timestamp for burn it down by daughter is killing me tho LMAOHSIFHJDFNJDD that’s so funny😭😭

literally gonna cry reading this like,,, i’m so happy that you enjoyed the prologue and thank you so so so so SO much for reading!!! ♡♡ i’m so excited to hear your thoughts about chapter one when i (finally) release it!!! hehe i hope you stay tuned!!!~~

BETWEEN TWILIGHT SKIES ───𝓅𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾: 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

in a world that’s on its dying breath, the once green and lush landscapes get buried in more and more layers of ash. the once flourishing streets that were full of magic are now a dull hum. yet, there is still hope—and it lies in the hands of you and kai, the last people to possess magic. suddenly, you remember the story of a forest that watches, and a well of life that lies deep within. you’re determined to save your bleak world in any way that you can, yet, you weren’t expecting to end up in a brand new world entirely.

pairing ⸝⸝ huening kai 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳!𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢 (𝘰𝘤) & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳!𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢 (𝘰𝘤)

genre ⋆ 📖 ⸝⸝ angst, fluff, a lot of yearning and longing (both romantic and platonic), magic, sorcerer!kai

warnings ⸝⸝ kidnapping, toxic environments and parental relationships, implied bullying, two instances of reader getting slapped, violence, death (of people & animals), depictions of gore, implied anxiety attack and abuse, hand holding & staring into each others eyes, tension filled kissing

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ the series has finally started!! now listen, listen, listen!! i know what you’re thinking, “a prologue and it’s 7.6k????” but i need you guys to STAY WITH ME!!! stay with me and lock in and after reading it all you’ll understand why it had to be this long lmao… next chapter you’ll meet yeonjun hehe~~ i hope you enjoy!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ❨ 7.6k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓼𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝒎𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡�� 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

‎ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ 𐦍 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏NEXT ⤇

The world around you had begun to wither away and decay long before it had started to end. As most things do, the rot had started to creep its way in through love. It had used it as a gateway, spreading its sickness all throughout the things you touched until it was the thin wisps of ash coating your cracked fingertips. Still, you let the rot in—let it corrupt the things you loved and change them into something unrecognizable, something unimaginable—something that was now dead and gone. You just couldn’t let go of the small doses of love you were granted with—naively gulping down tasteless sips to fill that hole inside your heart left by people you never even really knew.

You cradled love like a child guards its favorite toy; with fear and hesitancy. It was clear in the way your body hunched over and you looked up at every grown-up through wet lashes. Obvious in the way your dirty clothes hung limply from gangly limbs—once a tight fit but now they seemed to be made for a child much older than you. It must’ve been what enthralled her, what made her decide to pluck a random child no older than five off the street in the middle of the night and take them home.

In a way, you guess you had to thank her for the senseless crime she committed; for it gave you a warm bed to lay your head at night and food to fill your growling belly. It didn’t bother you that it all had come at a price, in fact, you were none the wiser. But, you’d know soon enough. The mask can only stay on for so long before it starts to crack—before it starts to rot like everything else did.

Lamia, is the name she sweetly whispered next to your ear as she tucked you into a bed that was never yours that night. “But, you can call me Mom,” she said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was hard watching things change in front of your very eyes. It was never the way people described it for you. Not the slow twist of vines along a column or the grass growing taller than a fence—no. It was the whipping of wind across your face. You’d go to wipe your teary eyes and find the sunny and warm scenery was now cold and dead with glittering snow laying everywhere.

You hated it.

You wished that things could stay as they were for as long as they could. You hated watching the faces of people you’ve grown to know dip and sag with age in an instant. You hated watching the life leave their eyes in a quick blink. And you hated how life seemed to go so slow for everyone except for you.

If you could dare to wish for one thing, it would be more time.

Sweet nights and even sweeter days began to sour, and Lamia—your mother—wasn’t as kind as she used to be when you were still a child. You think that that is what hurt the most with this odd whipping of wind, that you were forced to watch the love your mother held for you leave her eyes faster than you got to grow up to the young teenager you were today.

“Welcome to the Freywolf Inn!” you heard her voice exclaim to the ringing bell of the door. It was a careful blend of welcoming and cheerful. The sound was drowned out of your ears by the incessant sound of a brush against hardwood and soap mixing with water. You sat back on your knees, throwing the brush into the soapy mess and letting it clang against the floor, sighing. You wiped the back of your wet hand across your forehead and sucked in a breath.

Your knees ached and your hands were sore and cramped. This was the worst part of your mornings. No matter how hard you scrubbed these wooden floors, it wasn’t enough for Lamia. If they didn’t shine as if freshly polished when you were done then you scrubbed them wrong and she made you clean them again. Standing up on weak legs, you looked over your shoulder at the new customers as you reached for the bucket of dirty soap water. A soft gasp left your lips and you had to hold on tight to the bucket handle with both hands to ensure its contents didn't go spilling all over the floor.

You’d recognize them anywhere—the Collective, with their hooded, light forest-green cloaks embroidered with gold filigree and its golden satin insides. You never saw a member in person before—not that you were particularly excited to. Seeing a member of the Collective, so far away from the School of Pith, could only mean one thing…

The rot was here.

Frozen like a deer caught on sacred ground, you stared wide-eyed at them as they made their way to the common room, their carefree laughs carrying in the air around them. It felt like a bad omen—a confirmation. You tried so hard to ignore the fate of the things around you, but seeing that you could no longer hide from it was like a punch to your stomach.

Strangely, you also couldn’t help but be morbidly fascinated by it all. You exhaled slowly, steadying your racing heart and stilling your shaking hands that grasped the handle of the wooden bucket. Distantly, you felt the sting of pain across the back of your hands and shut your eyes. Only when every last molecule of air was absent from your lungs did you allow yourself to gulp in more to soothe the burning—just like your mother taught you.

Your eyes fluttered back open and landed on the group of sorcerers. They playfully practiced their magic out in the open—ringlets of green floating in the air and curling around their fingers and forearms. Their hands moved in peculiar ways, a jerk here or a smooth twist of their wrist there. You couldn’t understand it, but the more you watched them perform magic in front of your very eyes, the more you wanted to.

One member stood out to you in particular. He sat off to the side, a small distance away from where the others engaged and practiced their magic at, by himself. Dark hair fell over his warm-brown eyes, but you could still see how kind they were as they watched the other members of the Collective almost fondly. His green hood was over his head and he fiddled with the seams of his white pants with pale hands. There was a ghost of a smile on his face and—unbeknownst to you—there was one on yours too.

He didn’t practice his magic like the others did. He seemed content in just watching, having no need in the selfish display of power the others showcased. It piqued your interest what set him apart from the others and already you could feel a growing favor blossom in your chest for the boy.

He had to be only a few years older than you were and your cheeks warmed at the thought. He reached his arms up and pushed the hood backwards off his head, seemingly oblivious to your staring as were the rest of them. The filtered daylight washed over his body and you saw him more clearly. Your eyes greedily scanned over the slopes of his face, desperate to take him all in as quickly as you could. You couldn’t lie, he was beautiful.

You trailed your eyes over to the wisps of the green in the air. It’s different knowing that magic exists in a world so bleak and actually seeing it in action. It made you wonder where the ash was here in your small village—the rot—so you could watch them smother it. You needed to see those ringlets of green curl around it tighter and tighter until it didn’t exist anymore. Until all of the ash was gone for good.

You wanted to know what it felt like to wield such magic. Your fingers itched to replicate their movements in hopes that green wisps of your own would emerge. Maybe then would your touch not bring about destruction.

A hand roughly grabs your shoulder and breaks you away from the trance you were under. “Stupid child! Can you not hear?”

Lamia’s wrinkled face startlingly comes into view and you feel the bite of her nails in the flesh of your arm through the fabric of the thin dress you wore. You stammered, unsure of what to say and what her previous words were, and blinked rapidly at her accusation.

Wind whipped across your face and too late did you feel prickling pain spread across your cheek. The inn fell deathly silent and your eyes started to water. You swallowed down the lump in your throat thickly, your watery eyes finding your mother’s. “When I ask you a question, you answer it. Do I have to repeat myself?” your mother asked you.

Slowly, you shook your head and willed yourself to find your voice. “N-no, mother.” Your voice came out in a quiet squeak, completely pathetic and weak.

“Good,” Lamia responded. “Dry these soap-covered floors before our customers slip. Then, I want you to ensure the rooms for them are ready.”

“Yes, mother,” you said in that same weak voice.

She looked you up and down for a moment before tsking. Then, she turned on her heel and returned back to where she was behind the counter beforehand. Smoke curled from her mouth as she leisurely flipped through the sign-in book, unaware of the way time changed around her.

You swallowed thickly again, fingers tightening and untightening around the handle of the bucket you still held. Slowly, you turned just enough to look over your shoulder at lounging customers. No longer did they smile and laugh with a carefree attitude and swirls of green in the air. Instead, they stared at you with barely disguised shock. Your gaze snapped to the boy you were spellbound with earlier to find him staring too, mouth slack and sitting at the edge of the couch like he was eager to stand. His eyes met your teary ones and you broke away from the sudden connection.

Lifting the bucket closer to your chest, you rushed off into the direction of the rooms, embarrassment weighing you down and the once unshed tears now falling down your face. You ignored the sloshing sound of the water inside of it and the way the wood hit against your stomach, spilling over the metal lip and onto the floor below, creating an even bigger mess.

Sniffling, you hid yourself in the supply room. Your tears fell freely and a large sob wracked your body. You let the bucket slip from your fingers just inches from the rocky floor without a care and with a piercing thud. Stupid, you thought to yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Get it together. Stop crying.

Yet, the tears wouldn't stop. You heaved in breaths of air that refused to reach your lungs. You didn’t have time for this. If the floors weren’t dry and the rooms weren’t checked on in a timely manner then you’d get worse than a slap across the face. Harshly, you dug the palms of your hands into your cheeks and wiped away the fallen tears. You compelled yourself to take a deep breath, to let the oxygen reach your lungs and not be blocked by the false closing of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took in another deep breath, and another and another until your body no longer began to tremble. You straightened your back so you weren’t hunched over anymore and wiped your hands down the front of your damp dress. When you felt like you weren’t unravelling at the seams only then did you step out of the supply room to face the world.

Instead of the loud chattering coming from the Collective like from when they arrived, it was quiet and sparse whispers. When you got closer to where they were in the common room, the whispers grew.

You tried to drown their whispers out—opting to instead get to work on your mother’s request. Dropping to your knees, you took the clean towel and aggressively dried the wet section of hardwood floor beneath you, letting all your focus fall onto the repeated action.

Footsteps sounded behind you, but you didn’t hear them until an unfamiliar voice stunned you from your focus. “If I may?” the voice asked. You looked to the side, eyes meeting dirty brown boots whose eyelets caught in the bright sun. They trailed upwards to white pants and gold embroidered filigree onto a light, forest-green velvet fabric. Your hand halted its aggressive drying as your eyes ascended further to meet the boy from earlier’s handsome face. Your eyes widened to saucers and his seemed to be just as big as they looked down at you. “It will all go faster if I do this,” he continued, some of his words wobbling around the edges.

You remained silent, not trusting your voice to not come out raw and abrasive. The boy extended a hand out in front of him and with a twist of his wrist wisps of green emerged and wrapped around it. They swirled out around the two of you, lightly fogging across the floor. You turned to the wet floor in front of you and watched as it suddenly dried, the wood shining in the sunlight pouring in from the window. Your jaw slackened as your mouth fell open.

“It was a simple spell—you shouldn’t have to be on your hands and knees drying a floor,” the boy stated, the second part lower than the first so your mother didn’t hear. He outstretched his hand to you. Your mouth was still open as you turned back to stare blankly at his hand. An amused and warm smile pulled his cheeks upward and you suddenly came to the realization that you must’ve looked ridiculous.

“T-thank you…” you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper, still starstruck by the display of magic and the boy’s smile. You straightened your back before blinking a couple times. Clearing your throat, you accepted his outstretched hand and the boy helped you to your feet.

He chuckled and you felt your knees weaken more. His hand was still holding yours, the both of you forgetful as your gaze seared into each other. The smile slowly fell from his face, his lips parting with unspoken words as he gaped at you as if bewitched. Snickering to your side brought the two of you back to real life and you pulled your hands away from each other.

“Uh,” the boy said, clenching the hand that was just holding yours and trying to form a coherent sentence. His gaze snapped briefly to the other members of the Collective before landing on you again. “U—No worries! It was nothing, really. Kai.” He stammered over his words before his eyebrows raised. “My name. It’s–I’m, uh, Kai.”

Kai outstretched his hand again before he thought better of it and swiftly yanked it away, instead rubbing the back of his neck with it. If you weren’t so disoriented you’d laugh, but you just stare at him instead, the heat slowly creeping up your neck. You then realize how much of a mess you must look and quickly wipe your cheeks to get rid of any remaining tears. “Um,” you start, “I… I’m—”

Your name slices through the air like a knife. You jump, eyes darting over to where your mother stood behind the counter, a saccharine smile pulling her lips as she looked at the two of you. It felt as if you were watching a snake rattle its tail. Looking back to Kai, you offer him the tiniest of smiles before rushing away again, leaving him standing alone.

You’re not quite sure when the obsession with magic started. Maybe it was when you saw how carefree the Collective looked wielding it, as if it was second nature. Or, maybe it was when Kai had so graciously used it to help you out so you didn’t have to spend the remainder of the morning on your hands and knees. All you did know was that it had sunk its claws inside of you, gripping fiercely at your heart and making the hole inside of it larger.

Maybe it was when you started sneaking away from, or even downright rushing to finish, your duties so you could watch them practice magic. Maybe it was the rush you got watching their hands twist and jerk in specific movements for specific outcomes, green coils emerging from the motions.

But, you think it started when you lifted your hands into the air, daring to copy them.

At first, it was nothing, and frustration built up like a brick wall inside you. Then, that frustration turned to resentment, and that resentment into anger.

The Collective were here for a week so far and you weren't sure how long you had left before they departed. Why weren’t you born with magic like they were? If you had magic, it would change everything. No longer would everything rot around you when you could smother the rot all out—bring everything that has long been dead and gone back to life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

You flicked your fingers in the air angrily as green smoked around the member’s fingers and not yours. Something a mix between and groan and a growl emerged from your throat instead. But, you were determined—and you refused to give up.

Perfecting the twists of your wrists and quick jerks of your fingers, you exhaled steadily and focused on getting the same result the member of the Collective did—cracking open a single walnut without touching it. The walnut sat on the floor in front of you mockingly and you scowled at it before focusing again.

“Come on,” you whispered to yourself. “Come on, come on. Work, please.” With one final twist of your wrist, you heard the distinct cracking sound and a soft gasp pushing between your lips. Your face broke into a smile and it took everything in you not to cheer at the top of your lungs. You watched the slightest hints of green feather away around the lengths of your fingers, so fast the color was barely distinguishable. A smile spread across your face from ear to ear.

“Yes!” you proclaimed, taking care to keep your voice low. A pleased laugh left your mouth and happy tears filled your lash line, “Yes!”

Your view snapped back to that of the Collective in the dining hall. You listened to the way they joked with each other and made water spin into wine—getting themselves drunk and red-faced. As your stare analyzed them, you noticed that Kai wasn’t among them.

It was odd, you thought, but it reminded you of the first time you saw him and how he sat apart from the others. How different he seemed from them. Just from watching the Collective members interact, you already didn’t like them. Maybe Kai felt the same.

You haven’t talked to him since that day—haven’t really seen him around besides quick glimpses, either. A peculiar feeling stirred in your chest and you weren’t sure what it meant. You just hoped that your paths would cross again.

When you weren’t at Freywolf Inn, you were at the craft guild with your nose buried in a book. You were there so often that you were on a first name basis with the stationer, Althea, a sweet lady who distinctly had the look that reminded you of a barn owl. In the entirety of your small village, it seemed Althea was the only one who wasn’t victim to the rot. You felt safe being around her—and she always remarked how much you were like a daughter to her.

She let you freely borrow the books she received or binded and even let you hang out behind the counter while she dealt with artisans and people wealthier than you could ever imagine who came to see her from all over the world. You remember asking her one day why people came from all over to see her wares.

“Not that they’re bad,” you quickly added, leaning the open book onto your thighs as you looked up at her from your hiding spot underneath the counter. She threw you a witty smile over her shoulder from the press she was at, hair the color of cinnamon sticks falling over her shoulder. The two of you felt as if you were moving at the same speed—you barely realized the fact that streaks of white slowly became more prevalent in her hair. “I mean, this is just such a small village… Wouldn’t they go to communes or the King’s Roots where the school is?”

Althea’s voice was nothing like you’ve heard before despite her saying how she grew up in the village. It had a strange accent and the way she spoke was like silk against the bark of a tree. Althea turned from where she worked to meet your questioning look, leaning over and resting her elbows on her knees so she was just about eye level with you, “Not… quite. See, I offer words that you won’t find on a shelf at the School of Pith. Illustrations they wouldn’t dare to let one of their students witness.”

You sat up more underneath the counter, completely abandoning the still open book in your lap. Your eyes shined with curiosity and Althea laughed—a sound that resembled crackling fire. “What kind of words?” you asked her.

“Knowledge, my owlet. There’s much more out there than the green thumbs of Pith—the royals and the wealthy.” Althea spat out green thumbs like food stuck on her tongue. You knew she never liked the Collective, but to this day, she still never told you why.

Althea stood and walked over to one of the shelves that you never touched, but was always only open for certain customers who came inside the guild hooded and quiet. Her finger ran along the spines as her white brows drew together, “There is a forest in this world, buried deep within another.” Her brows lifted as she found the book she was looking for and she made her way back to the counter.

You crawled from beneath the counter, twisting to watch as she laid the thick book down onto it and opened it to the beginning pages. You gently discarded the book you were reading off to the side of the counter, your focus now on the twirling of words and stirring drawings. Althea’s fingers gently caressed the pages. Her face was distant and longing, like recounting a memory that happened centuries ago. “The Forest That Watches, it is called,” she continued. “It’s white-barked trees have black eyes drawn onto them by people from long ago and its drooping pink leaves kiss the sacred ground.”

For a moment, Althea was quiet. You waited patiently, decidedly taking in the open page until she was ready to speak again. You could tell that this forest was a sensitive topic for her and you didn’t want to pry. You looked up at her when she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. She regarded you with a fond smile, “The forest has never been found, though, and it remains watching—waiting. Its pink leaves hide what’s inside; the Well of Life.”

With her free arm, Althea flipped through the pages until it landed on the Forest and the Well. “Woah,” you muttered, leaning forward to get a better look at it. Even from the illustrations you could tell how beautiful it was, feel the magic that radiated from it all.

You knew why it hadn’t been found yet—why it never could be. That much power in the wrong hands would be detrimental. But, you couldn’t help but wonder how different your world would be if it had access to the magical waters Althea was telling you about.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Althea breathed wistfully. “We’ll meet there one day… under the pink leaves and drink from the Well.” She returned her gaze to yours. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Then the turning of the sun won’t seem so fast.”

You sighed to yourself as your eyes fell back to the pages. You leaned your head into Althea’s side and she wrapped her arm around you tighter. “That would be nice,” you say.

In the darkness of the night, you let the shadows listen to your deepest wishes. And how you wish that it was Althea who plucked you from the streets instead of Lamia.

You wander Althea’s shelf now, hands running along the spines. Your fingertips still buzz with the magic you emitted earlier and you swear you can feel the contents of the shelved books calling out to you. Stilling, your fingers halt onto a book. The pull was just too strong to deny and when you turn your head to read the spine you find that the lettering has been rubbed away by time. You hum in slight annoyance before pulling the book from the shelf.

You can feel how Althea’s eyes trail you, especially when you walk over to the counter to take your familiar spot under it. In the corner of your eye, you can see her head tilt. “You feel different. And you’re quiet—quieter than usual,” she says quizzically.

Looking up from your book, a corner of your mouth raises. “Magic, Althea…” Your face breaks out into full-on excitement. “I have it! At least… sparks of it…”

Althea’s face doesn’t change from its quizzical expression. She shifts in her seat in front of the press. “Green?” she asked you, accusatory. You're unsure whether her accusatory tone was towards you or not.

The excitement swiftly falls from your face and you sit up more under the counter. “I… Yeah…” you mutter, avoiding her stare.

“It can’t be,” Althea states matter-of-factly. Her white brows furrow, and she looks away from you. “Can’t be…” she quietly trails off, more to herself than to you. “Green is… can’t be, can’t be. Doesn’t make sense.”

“I think it was green…” you pipe up, voice falling flat towards the end when her piercing black eyes snap to yours. “I didn’t really see the color, it all happened too fast.” It was true, but in your heart you wished it was green. You just wanted Althea to stop acting all fidgety and looking at you the way she did. You held the book in your arms closer to your chest and Althea’s gaze dropped to the movement.

Althea’s body physically relaxed from the tense state it was in, and if you looked close enough, you thought you could see the ghost of a smile on her lips. She hummed, suddenly pleased, “Magic… how enchanting. Have I told you about the White Fawn? Or, the prophecy of Eternal Winter?”

Your brows knitted at the change in her demeanor, but you concluded that it was better to leave it be. You shook your head at her question. “What about faeries?” Althea asked.

“No,” you responded, “what are they?”

Althea slid to the ground in front of you, a grin pulling her mouth and exposing her teeth. She tapped the book you desperately clutched to your chest with an ivory finger. “Why don’t you take a look?”

You giggled to yourself, letting your arms flow in the harmony of the wind. You twirled and moved your body to the tune of nature—to the sounds of the forest’s edge behind you with its rustling leaves and chattering animals. The crown of sticks and fallen leaves fell down further onto your forehead and you laughed more. You didn’t even notice the single brilliant blue butterfly that landed on it and completed your costume.

If your mother saw you right now, she’d be furious. She had sent you out here on punishment with the intention of having you clean the stables behind the inn. Instead, you were dancing The Dance of Youth and pretending to be the Faerie Queen.

You spent all day yesterday reading Althea’s book on anything magical you could get your hands on, which mainly consisted of faeries and the realm they occupied. The books conjured up tales, legends, and myths of those more than human—people with glittering or colorful skin, wings, horns shooting from their heads, and even human-like versions of some of the animals you were already familiar with. It was completely enthralling reading about it all, and feeling all the magic pour off of the pages made you even more giddy. The magic the School of Pith had was nothing compared to the magic you had read about.

In a kingdom so sunny and full of bloom, A deadly winter approaches to cause mass doom. Drowns the kingdom in layers of snow, And becomes a place where nothing grows and no one goes.

You sang and danced around in the grass, pretending that you weren’t human at all, but faerie. That you were queen and the lands stretching from the edge of the forest to the inn was your kingdom. You wished you lived in Faerie where all the other magical creatures resided. That you and Althea could live there together, happy. Maybe even Kai could join you too. You giggled more at the wonderful thought.

Rustling in the forest drew your attention and you halted your dance. You leaned forward, listening closely and peering at the way the setting sun shined through the leaves, but then laughed at how ridiculous the notion was. Of course there was rustling, it’s a forest. You turned your attention back to the doll propped up on a rock, watching you. “Don’t look at me that way,” you say, twirling once more before making your way over to it.

The doll was a sightly thing made out of straw and sticks that Althea gave to you as a child. After all these years you still had it, and you cherished it deeply—making sure to keep it hidden from Lamia so she wouldn’t toss it out. You could hear her voice now, “A girl born in the summer of the thirteenth year of the King still playing with dolls? How preposterous!”

You hummed, bending down to retrieve the doll. “What an odd thing to say… Why should I find a man to marry in order to rule? I am the Faerie Queen. This is my kingdom, I shall rule it how I see fit!”

Too lost in your own dream-like world, you don’t notice the crunching of leaves beneath boots. “Well, all Queens need a King to stand beside them,” a voice said behind you. You spun in place, clutching the doll to your chest. Kai tilted his head at you, an easy smile playing on his lips. “Don’t you think?” he concluded.

His cloak was covered in ash. He and the other members of the Collective must have just returned from defeating the ash in the area for good. The heat immediately rushed to your face and your mind raced. Kai stood mere feet from you and you were stumbling over your own thoughts on what to say. You stood up straighter, trying to appear nonchalant, “I-I suppose…”

How embarrassing it was to be caught in such childlike endeavors—by Kai of all people! You moved the doll behind your back in an attempt to hide it, yet Kai’s gaze followed the action before flicking back up to your face. Behind him, you saw the rest of the Collective ride up on horses towards the inn, snickering at the two of you. “I see Kai has finally found someone willing to lay with him!” one shouted sarcastically.

Kai’s face soured and he looked over his shoulder at them with a glare before turning back to you. Face softening, he took a step towards you. “Ignore them,” Kai says, “They think they’re funny and they’re not.”

He stripped off his velvet green cloak and gave it a good shake away from where you stood. Ash clouded off of it in front of him, making the two of you cough a little. “Sorry,” Kai coughed, letting the cloak fall onto the rock next to him. “So… The Faerie Queen, huh? What’s that? Does that have something to do with your dance?”

You looked down to your feet in even more embarrassment. “It’s… It’s nothing.” You sat down on the rock that your doll was previously perched on. “I can’t believe you saw that…” you muttered under your breath.

“It looked like fun,” Kai laughed, and you looked up to catch the way his smile lingered as he looked down at you. “You seemed really into it, didn’t even notice me coming up behind you. You jumped like a caught baby deer.”

It was your turn to laugh. “A baby deer?” you asked and Kai nodded. “I guess you could say that, but you scared me!” Kai sat down next to you. He pointed his chin upwards, his eyes on the crown of sticks and leaves on your head. “Is that your crown, Faerie Queen?”

Biting your lip, you took the crown off and placed it in your lap. You toyed with the leaves in it. “You should make me one,” Kai says. You looked up at him. He was much closer than you originally thought he was, his shoulder brushing up against yours making you nervous. This close up you could see all the details of his face—his eyelashes that occasionally rested softly on round, smiling cheeks, and the curve of his plump, pinked lips. And his warm, brown eyes that never left your face. “You know… Queens and Kings and all of that…”

You smiled, looking away from him so he wouldn’t see how flustered he made you. “Really?” you questioned, braving his stare once again. “Yeah!” Kai exclaimed. He leaned closer to you, “Only if you see me fit, though, my queen.”

Kai took your hand in his and bent over to press his lips to the back of it, his eyes flicking up to look at you between his lashes. The action set you alight and you were so sure that Kai could feel the heat radiating off of your body. “I’ll have to put you to the test,” you mutter, barely managing to get your words out. “Only the best can rule with me by my side.”

You felt the vibrations of Kai’s laugh against your skin before he sat back up, his hand still grasping yours. His face was even closer to yours now. All it took was one of you to lean a little closer and your lips would meet. “Well, you’ll find that I am the best of the best,” Kai spoke, lowly. His eyes dropped to your lips and he swayed a little. “Nobody stands a chance against me.”

“Is that so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” Kai nodded. He closed the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he used it to cup your cheek and lift your chin to kiss you deeper. You melted into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his. It was perfect, and the feeling of his soft lips on yours was like heaven.

“Why don’t you show her your magic wand!” a voice behind you and Kai yelled in your direction. The two of you broke apart, yet Kai’s hand remained on your cheek. Embarrassment crept up your neck and you could tell from Kai’s red ears that he was feeling the same way. He turned to where the voice came from, brows drawing together to form another dirty glare.

The rustling in the woods was more prevalent now and both you and Kai’s head snapped to the edge of the forest. Before your ears could even pick up on the growling, a large wolf jumped out from between the trees. Both you and Kai raced to your feet and he held a hand out to guide you behind him. You hugged your doll to your chest in fear. Besides his body being tense, Kai remained relatively calm.

The wolf growled and snapped at the two of you, its sharp teeth piercing the air as spit ran down the corners of its jaw. “Awe, he can’t even handle a single wolf… the Ash is going to smoke him out!” Members of the Collective laughed behind you, but Kai paid them no mind. He guided you slowly backwards and away from the edge of the forest.

Kai quickly glanced back at you and the way you trembled, terrified. “It must be hungry,” he said, focusing back on the wolf. Green swirls of magic wrapped around the two of you. “It probably smells the meat from the nearby butcher’s.”

“It wouldn’t kill us, right?” you asked with a shaky voice, already knowing how foolish the question was before finishing it. Kai looked over his shoulder at you again, his face the most serious you’ve seen it, “Make something scared and it’ll do just about anything to get rid of the feeling.”

Just as Kai turned his head back towards the wolf, it pounced at the two of you. Behind it, more wolves prowled out of the woods, snarling. You barely registered that the harrowing scream that filled your ears was your own before you were pushed to the ground.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion for once in your entire life. The members of the Collective who were snickering and poking fun at you and Kai jumped into action, spirals of green emerging from their fingertips. More of them piled out from the inn, along with Lamia. You don’t realize that a hand is grabbing your arm and lifting you to your feet before you’re being pushed out of the crossfire.

All you see is green. At least, at first.

Then, splatters of red cover your vision. The screams and cracking of bones fill your ears and bodies fly through the air. Hot tears run down your cheeks and you close your eyes. Then, there is complete and utter silence.

The silence lasts for a moment before all sound comes rushing back to you so fast it felt like your ears were bleeding. There was screaming and crying and more cracking of bones set into place. You opened your eyes to see that the once green pasture you danced in was covered in red—red so dark it was almost black, and disfigured bodies and torn limbs were everywhere.

You stood up from the mud, eyes scanning through the green in the air in search of Kai. When you found him, tending to one of his members whose leg was missing, you breathed a sigh of relief. He was covered in blood and viscera, but it looked like he was unharmed. Barely taking a step in his direction, nails dug into your arm, bringing about a sharp sting that you were all too familiar with.

Body swinging in the opposite direction of Kai, you came face to face with your mother. Her hand reached up to roughly grab your chin. “What have you done?!” She screamed at you.

You glanced around you, never hearing her this angry before. More tears slid out of your eyes and to the dirt below and you tried to talk around the lump in your throat. You took in the destruction all around you, at the dead wolves that were now being carried towards the butcher who stood a couple feet from you. His voice caught in the air, “...a lamb, yeah.” You looked at how many lives the Collective lost in a sheer matter of minutes—and how it was all your fault. “It… I—” you started.

“You brainless child!” Your mother’s hand striked you so hard across the face that you fell back down to the mud at your feet. “Do you know how bad this is for business? Members of the Collective are dead on my soil!” You held your searing cheek with the hand that wasn’t still clutching onto your straw doll as you looked up at your mother with tearful eyes.

“I… I didn’t m—”

“Shut up. Go. I never want to see your vile face again!” Lamia screamed, her wrinkled face turning as red as the sunset behind her. She pointed a shaky finger away from the inn. You stood up on weak legs, your knees shaking. “But—but, Mom—” you cried.

“Go!”

You gave her one last pleading look before taking off, stumbling over your own feet. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t need sight for the place you were running to. You could find Althea in the dark, bound and soundless, if you had to.

You pushed open the doors of the guild and fell to the floor just in front of the counter, startling Althea and the customer she was engaging with. Your chest heaved and your tears formed a puddled at your scraped and dirty knees. “S-She… They’re all…” Your whole body shook and you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

Althea rushed to you, taking you into her arms and completely abandoning her customer. You caught a glimpse of them from Althea’s chest and didn’t know what you saw… Scaly skin that caught the light before a clawed hand pulled the hood further over their face, maybe? Althea shushed you and rubbed comforting circles into your back. “It’s okay, my owlet, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

Love is a very wretched thing. It lets in the rot and the maggots and the ash. But, you still couldn’t help scraping off the corruption and placing it gently in your heart anyway. You couldn’t let go of the thought that maybe it could be beautiful, that it could be worth the cracked skin.

Instead of your usual hiding spot under the counter next to where Althea worked, you were hidden away between shelves at the back of the guild, alone. A book sat open in your lap, but your mind was too distracted to read any of the words in it. You heard the soft pattering of feet along the hardwood and turned to the sound.

Kai stood before you, completely distraught and still covered in blood from the wolf attack.

You waited for him to speak, but he said nothing. You moved the open book in your lap to the side as you sat up. Your lips parted as you thought of something to say. “T-Thank you,” you said finally. “You saved my life.”

Kai’s eyes weren’t the warm brown that they were earlier. Something shifts in them and you swallow thickly. They were cold, lifeless. Kai just nodded and slumped down to the floor next to you. An awkward silence filled the air and you didn’t know what to say to resolve it.

“How did you find me?” you asked in a meek voice. Kai’s eyes shifted over to you from where they looked out the window to the dark sky. “I saw you run here,” he says plainly. “Followed you.”

Silence penetrates the air before he speaks again. “They kicked me out,” Kai says, his lifeless eyes still boring into you. “They kicked me out of the School of Pith.”

Your mouth falls open in shock and you rush to apologize, saying how it was all your fault, but Kai just shakes his head and looks away from you. He’s still in his Collective uniform, but now the light, forest-green of his velvet cloak seems dull and dark. It doesn’t help that it’s now splattered with blood. “I guess it was my last chance.”

There’s no inflection in his voice, nothing to show whether the result makes him sad or angry or even annoyed. His face is expressionless. The only hint to his inner turmoil is the way his fingers pull harshly at the seams of his dirty white pants. The tips of them are reddened, like he’s been at it for a while now.

Kai turned back to you and reached a hand up to gently rub his thumb along your bruised cheek. His gaze then dipped to the book on the floor. “What are you reading?”

You hand the book to him, the page opened onto the legend of the White Fawn that Althea told you about. Kai hummed, “You don’t really believe in all that stuff, do you? This myth?”

“You don’t?” you asked incredulously. “You have magic, but don’t believe in a white deer that brings about luck and fortune?”

For the first time that night, you manage to get Kai to chuckle. “I suppose you’re right…” he trailed. “I might not be the firmest believer in myths and legends, but I do know a lot about them. We learned about them at the school—more things than you’ll read about in any book.”

Kai glances at you and catches the way your eyes light up. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips. The light still isn't back in his eyes—and his smile doesn't reach them either—but, it’s a start. You look at him as if he just hung all the stars in the pitch black sky.

“You want me to teach you?” Kai asks, and you desperately nod your head.

[ kipo’s note . . . ] wow… a lot happened… you see why it had to be almost 8k words now?? lmaoo i had to set everything up! but tell me how you feel about it all!! what do you think about the faerie realm, or the myths of the forest that watches and the well of life? the white fawn and the prophecy of eternal winter??? lemme know all your thoughts, don’t be shy!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @usuallyunlikelyfox @blossommi @tinycatharsis

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rat-n-atty · 2 days ago

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The last gift 🎁

Animation and some soppy rambling from yours truly!

( featuring in order, @stillnothereforanyrealreason @hyperbaguette @chaosisunderratedd @fandomgoesahhhhhhhhh @echostarsys @livzees (Hi wife!) @sakuwura-meow-meow @xcoffeebomb @cookiepopcat @axelcx11z @coralalala64 @tiredsmashbros @its-a-me-mango @libbytwq @bear-boi-5 @bluestrawberrybunny @briandraws )

BOOM!

REDESIGNS ONCE AGAIN ONLY THIS TIME ATTY APPARENTLY HAS LOST HER WRISTS (jk, but now her hands float for some reason, not Rats tho...)

Okay now it's time for me to rant about all the wonderful people I have made in the animation :D

@stillnothereforanyrealreason , @hyperbaguette and @chaosisunderratedd y'all are...the best friends I had ever got the chance of meeting. We have been through the deepest shit ever in our life and yet we all still managed to still be friends and that really surprises me. You guys are my truest friends that I don't mind rambling about redeemable villains with or maybe even share some shitty humor or go to y'all for some art inspiration but overall just have a really fun time.

I want to thank you for all these crazy 2 years we have been friends for and hopefully we still continue that crazy questionable bond 💜💜💜

@fandomgoesahhhhhhhhh and @echostarsys y'all are a bunch of freaks tbh /silly but you're bestest mates that I could ever ask for! I love hanging out with you guys and yapping about who knows what whether it be Smg4 or it be your Aus! I love how passionate you two are and I love how you guys support my own small projects as well! You guys have made me feel comfortable talking about my interests in a really long time and I just want to thank you for that 💜💜💜

You guys are amazing and I hope you two never stop being you (except maybe Tari...stop being rude /silly/j)

@livzees HI WIFE YOU LOVABLE BEST PERSON I HAVE EVER MET YOU!!!!!! You are the best person I have ever had the chance to meet and get to know! You're super funny and your art is really cool and I love all that you do and create including your Rivalry Au! You don't mind if I yap too much or send you the dumbest things, you make me feel seen and noticed and I am so happy I can be silly with you (considering I proposed with an onion ring)

Seeing you pop up on my screen makes my day and being with you in VC trying to make you laugh at my dumb jokes makes me happy! I love you sm (/p) and always keep being your amazing lovable you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

@sakuwura-meow-meow , @cookiepopcat and @xcoffeebomb YOU GUYSSSSSS UGHHH WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?????? You 3 are the coolest people ever in my eyes, even though I tend to make fun of you a lot...you mean a lot to me. You listened, you laughed, and you supported me when I felt like no was. You made me feel like I belong and that I mattered.

You all helped me get out of my shell which I am grateful for (but you should also be terrified about too, I have breeched containment and cannot be held for much longer /hj) I hope you 3 never stop being your amazing selves and I hope you know that you all hold a very special place in my half dead bitchy heart ❤️❤️❤️

@axelcx11z and @coralalala64 YOUUUU!!!! THE SILLIES!!!! YES YOU!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!!!! I'll have to admit...talking to you guys at first was so nerve-racking for me because I look up to y'all but after some chats...I realize y'all are just a bunch of the silliest people ever lol but I love that about yous.

Cora, you are the first person I saw on my page and instantly had to follow because I thought your art style was so cool and I think your Aus and your own characters and creatures (as deadly as they can be, one of them gave me rabies /hj) is the wonderful silly aspect about you that I love 🫴👑✨

Axel, you're the chilliest guy I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and I love how you even consider me your doppelganger considering how little we interact lol (sorry, I'm just too shy) . I still totally love all that you do tho no matter what fandom you're in; I fell in love with your style when I first saw it so never stop creating dude 🫴👑✨

@tiredsmashbros , @its-a-me-mango and @libbytwq or as I call you, the holy Smg4 Trinity /silly. It was such an honor to finally meet you all in the TSB server but to be honest I was also on the verge of having a panic attack because I was overwhelmed being surrounded by a bunch of people I look up to the most. I know I'm not active much and I barely have anything to say (unless it's about AJR or my cursed hear me outs) But I absolutely enjoyed any interaction I got.

You guys are the biggest inspirations in my life and I hope that one day I'll be able to achieve what you do (but not today lol) you guys are awesome, I love your rants and your complicated lore and most of all, I love your art and I hope you never stop doing what you love 🫴👑👑👑✨✨✨

@bear-boi-5 HI! HELLO! IT'S ME! YOU ARE ONE OF THE FIRST PEOPLE I LOOKED UP TO! When I first joined Tumblr, I remember your pretty little masked face /silly showing up on my screen and I immediately saw and loved it! You are such a master at traditional art and I love how detailed it is and how cool it looks!

When you first made fanart of my Smg5 I was absolutely shook considering at the time I was still a fairly small creator with only like 50 followers lmao but I want to thank you, if you didn't draw my Smg5 I probably wouldn't have drawn her much either assuming that people just hated her.

Meeting you in the TSB server was the coolest thing in my life because you're one chill dude and I hope that maybe when I overcome my overbearing shyness we could get to know each other better lol

🫴👑✨

@bluestrawberrybunny and @briandraws Brian, you're a freak /pos like HOW???? HOW DO YOU HAVE THE TIME, AND THE PASSION AND THE ENERGY FOR WHAT YOU DO???? Honestly if I ever had the amount of energy you have, I would be in a bloody coma. You are the first person I ever had the chance of actually connecting with a Tumblr moot (and realizing how unhinged they are /hj) but I just wanted to say thank you for tolerating me this long lol. Your an amazing artist and even an amazing author (even though I think you should be sentenced to a mental hospital for flooding the server about your Marware obsession /j )

And you! Blue! I love all your work as well! I love apprenticeship and I love your tangents! Having you and meeting you in the server has been a treat but it's also nerve racking because I'm still shy lol. I think your art is so cute and I hope you never stop!

🫴👑👑✨✨

Because of the song I couldn't add as many people as I wanted but here are some honorable mentions!

@deltaruinedcoco37 @purpdrawsthings @hamlos @chaoticlad @bow-and-aro-child @theartistisme43 @b-r-i-n-g-x @grinnames @strange0-0storm @goofy-goobers-things @arco-doodles @artist-heart83 @sspacesillyy @hi-imlooneybirdie @pisschxn @rainstormsart and PLENTY MORE BUT TUMBLR FUCKING HATES ME SO IF YOU SEE THIS THEN I LIKE YOU TOO

I love all that you guys do wether that be art or writing or theories or ANYTHING ELSE just know that you'll always have a supporter 🫴👑✨

Now this brings me to the end of my birthday party sadly, I hope y'all liked it and I hope y'all didn't eat all of my birthday cake and thank you for all the birthday art and wishes but before y'all go...

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

The many joys of sharing your birthday with a holiday, it's often overlooked lol but I hope you guys enjoy it whether you're alone or you have a partner. Practice self love too because you're also important ❤️❤️❤️

Okay that's it

BI Y'ALL!

#art blog #artists on tumblr #sona art #my birthday #EEEEE I HOPE YALL ENJOYED #I HOPE YOU ALL KNOW THAT YOU ARE LOVED #I hope you have a wonderful day this day lol #also if any of you try to @ me or something just know I won't get back to youe until monday probably because I'm leaving for a trip #okay bi

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red-hibiscus · 3 days ago

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THE Lee Taemin held the flag I designed so here's a rant from a shawol of 14 years

I got into SHINee in 2011 when I was 13. They were my first kpop group and to this day they are my favorites. They've always stood out and will never be overtaken no matter how many kpop groups I listen to.

I had just barely missed the last SMtown concert in nyc and I never thought I'd be able to see any SHINee related concert (excluding whatever SuperM was). SM certainly wasn't going to give them a tour. So when Taemin announced a world tour it felt like a dream. When I managed to snag that ticket I was shaking.

I had started making flags for some artists a year and a half ago for onlyoneof's tour. Just as a silly "lmao what I give them a pride flag" then decided "fuck it I'm gonna design an onlyoneof pride flag." Then I did it for Lucy (my 2nd favorite k-music act) for two different cities. It's addicting seeing your creations be so well received by fans and artists alike. It's my little selfish fan moment of something I worked hard on be acknowledged and loved by them with the bonus of making other fans happy.

So of course I had to make Taemin a flag, and when I got the ok, I knew exactly what to do. I wanted to show his progression as an artist. So I had two silhouettes. One from Lucifer and one from Move. Lucifer (my 2nd ever kpop song after Hello) we all know is so influential. The choreo is iconic and it set the stage for more difficult choreo in kpop. The legendary practice video that had people dizzy while they stared at Taemin trying to learn it. I was there too. And Move... I mean come on. Kpop is different post Move. We know how viral Taemin went for move. How everyone was and still is absolutely shocked. The androgynous (relatively slow) difficult and sensual choreo that only Taemin can do. And the music as well!! I've seen several kpop artists try similar styles after that. So Lucifer and Move were the obvious choices.

Seeing people slowly fill up the flag while they signed it at the pre-show party was so fulfilling. All the people whose eyes lit up when they learned the flag was going to be given to him. The anxiety they got when they tried to think of what to write cause there's no going back and it's gonna be given to their idol. All the compliments I got on my design. It brings me so much happiness.

To be honest I was kind of stressed. The actual designing/drawing of the flag wasn't too bad, but getting it approved and the uncertainty that the flag would be brought out for picture time had me going crazy. But they did. He held it. Lee Taemin... Kpop jesus... The idol's idol held my flag. And he was smiling. He loved it. He looked so good. It's like it was destined to be in his hands.

After he got it I was shaking. It actually took a bit for me to process it was actually happening. And then I cried (for the 3rd time that concert except harder this time) all throughout Say Less. Probably gonna get emotional every time I hear that song now. Thanks Taemin.

I don't know what artists do with flags they get. Store them in a closet, toss them away, give them to their company, idk. For now all I know and care about is that it's safely with him and he knows it exists. Maybe he'll read some of the messages. Maybe he'll read the messages on the postcard we gave him and smile when he reads my message. I'll never know. If he's happy, I'm happy.

#kpop #Taemin #lee taemin #shinee #kpop jesus #art

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 5 months ago

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best formula for a fictional woman imo is sad wet meowmeow who at first glance seems sooooo cool and sexy and unbothered but in reality is a bit of a loser . also there is something deeply wrong with her

#shoko <3 and makima <333 #also . maomao . . . perhaps #:3c #detached shell -> deeply human interior … something something #i just love them sm they make me so happy #let women be losers !!!! and also horrifying <3333 preferably at the same time #ari noises ✩

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amyispxnk · 7 hours ago

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OK I went through a LOT of emotions during this chapter.

"Hi," he whispered to her after her naps. "Did you sleep well? Huh, pretty girl? C'mere."

She made tiny, thoughtful expressions like she was really listening to him. Her little hands were always reaching, always curious. Right now, she was watching the lights with those big brown eyes, mesmerized by the slow shift of the shadows on the ceiling, her mouth parting slightly in wonder. Her fingers curled absently in his shirt, barely grasping, like she just liked knowing he was there.

Before he could stop himself, he pressed another kiss to the side of her head, then another and another, half a laugh escaping him when she wriggled in delight, her little fists stretching open, her eyes squeezing shut like she could feel the warmth of it sinking in.

omg this is too fucking cute I'm gonna explode actually

Joel almost laughed, because—yeah. Yeah, he’d drop dead before refusing that. “‘Course,” he said, voice low but certain. .....

...Her fingers brushed the edge of the desk, and her knuckles paled with how tightly she gripped it. “You’re welcome home anytime, Joel. My door’s always open for you.”

"Maya loves you so much."

I SCREAMED SO LOUD. MY HAPPY FAMILY IS COMING TOGETHER

The door was open again. And that was the thing about doors.

They worked both ways.

SCREAMINGG crying throwing up the writinggg omg

...But then she spotted him.

Her entire little body bucked, like the excitement was too much for her tiny limbs to contain. A bright, panting laugh bubbled from her mouth, and her hands curled, fists flailing like wanted to launch herself toward her.

Joel sighed. That was it. No walking away now.

HE LOVES HER SM AND SHE JUST FUCKING ADORES HIM AND UGHHHH HES SUCH A DAD AND IM CRYING AGAIN

And goddamn him, but he loved it. Loved the small breaths puffing against his collarbone. Loved the way she looked up at him, slow and sleepy, tapping her tiny knuckles against him like she was checking to make sure he was still there. Loved that he didn't have to think about anything, not feel like the whole world was closing in.

Bawling this is so sweet

The kid he’d sort of raised, playing with the baby he was yet to.

WHAT IF I JUST FUCKING DIED.

“It’s… good, y’know? You having this nice thing.” She waved a vague hand toward the baby, toward Leela. “You don't usually let yourself have nice things. Something that’s not just me.”

Losing my mind. I love him sm this is so sweet please nothing bad ever happen to any of them ever thank yyou

This chapter is one of the best fics I've ever read like EVER. omg.

falling | joel miller x fem!oc (part iii)

summary: Joel’s delicate attachment to Leela and baby Maya deepens along with—her resistance, his denial, and the slow, inevitable way he’s always finding his way back to them. As they navigate a freak accident, Ellie sees it. He does too. Almost.

a/n: ah-woohooooo more of Joel being a thickheaded numpty, so enjoy! I would love to hear all your unhinged, lovely thoughts!

It had been a quiet few weeks for Joel.

Not the kind of quiet he liked—the stillness of early mornings, with the wind rustling the trees and a guitar strumming in his hands. No, this was the one that came after a storm, when the air was dense with the scent of rain and the world felt... upside down. Unsettled. The kind of quiet where the damage had already been done, and all that was left was to pick through the wreckage.

The kind of quiet that made a man think too much. It pressed into him, heavy and suffocating.

Since that night in the car, since he’d seen her unravel in real time, the tacit MO had changed. On more welcome news, Mal had stopped coming around. No thanks to him, of course.

Joel saw him through the window the first morning he returned to Leela's place. Mal was coming up the path with the same easy stride, hands in his pockets like he had a right to be there. God, just once, he wanted to knock the teeth off that goddamned kid.

Joel set down his hammer and exhaled through his nose. Bless Tommy for leaving the fun part to him. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and stepped out onto the porch before the kid could even knock. The heavy door groaned on its hinges behind him, and he let it.

Mal spotted him and gave a lazy wave, stepping forward. “Hey, man. I’m just here to—”

Joel shifted in front of him. Not aggressive. Just there. An immense wall of quiet warning.

Mal stopped short, blinking up at him.

Joel wasn’t even trying to stand taller, but he didn’t need to. He just crossed his arms over his chest, let his shoulders square out naturally, let his stance say everything. He wasn’t fucking moving.

The kid hesitated, confusion flickering across his face. “Uh—is there a problem?”

“I’ll take it from here,” Joel said, voice even.

Mal frowned. “What?”

“I said, whatever it is, I got it.”

There was a pause. A moment where Joel could see the gears turning in Mal’s head, where the kid was piecing things together a little too slow for his liking.

“Okay, but Tommy said—”

“Yeah, well.” Joel leaned forward, just enough to be felt. Watched Mal’s jaw tighten, and watched him shift back on instinct. “Not anymore.”

That finally landed. Mal thankfully rocked back on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced past Joel, toward the house, then back, brows knitting together, trying to make sense of what was going on. What he'd done wrong.

"Uh... do you want help, at least?" he offered, cautious.

Joel let out a slow breath, something close to a laugh—if you could call it that. There was nothing warm in it. "You run along now."

Mal lingered for another second, like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. And like a kid being told off, he tucked his tail and left.

Joel didn’t bother to watch him go. Just turned on his heel, grabbed the door, and went back inside. “Fuckin' pest,” he grumbled under his breath.

The house was quiet—only the soft creak of the stairs, followed by the sound of careful, steady footsteps.

He looked up and saw Leela was making her way down, one hand carefully bracing against the railing. She was in sweats and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled into a low-hanging bun. There was something different about her face today—sharper, cleaner, blanker maybe. Or maybe he was just seeing her in a better light now.

She caught him staring. "Was that Mal?"

Joel simply lied, "No."

She pressed her lips together. Not quite disappointment, not quite relief. Something in between. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Maybe later.”

Joel hooked a thumb through the loop of his tool belt, retrieving the hammer he’d slung there. He twirled it once, catching the handle in his palm.

“Don't worry about it. He’s a busy guy,” he said, keeping his voice light as he crossed her on the staircase. “Lots of shit to fix around town.”

More importantly, Leela didn’t ask why or how. Soon enough, she stopped looking for Mal. Didn’t even question when Joel started showing up every day instead with his old tool belt slung over his shoulder, standing at her door like it was the most unassuming thing in the world. She just looked at him—one glance, one unreadable flicker of those dark, tired eyes—and then moved on like it didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t there at all. Stiffing him, essentially.

And Joel knew that kind of distance. This gaping rupture, widened between people when something sore and hideous had been exposed. When someone had seen too much; known too much. Leela knew she’d overstepped, and now she was pulling back.

Joel knew that feeling. He’d done it plenty himself. That instinct to retreat, to pull the shutters down, to make yourself small. Hell, he’d lived it. Had become it.

So he let it happen. He let her pretend again. Didn't push, didn't say anything. He simply worked.

The nursery was coming together, slowly but surely. The pendant lights were fixed, casting warm pools of gold over the room. The shelves stood straighter, stocked with whatever Maria had been sneaking in—baby books, folded blankets, onesies, wooden toys. And the old fuchsia rug he’d found in Leela’s storage? It tied the whole damn thing together, like a relic of a forgotten life, all lived-in and warm for the baby girl.

Joel stood in the centre of it all, Maya cradled in his arms, rocking slightly on his heels. Not that she could appreciate any of this yet. A safe space of her own.

He had never been the kind of man who cooed at babies either. Hadn’t been that way when Sarah was small, hadn’t been that way in the years since. There was something about them—so soft, so fragile—that made him cautious, like he had to hold back, keep himself in check.

Maya made it easier.

"Hi," he whispered to her after her naps. "Did you sleep well? Huh, pretty girl? C'mere."

She’d been a fussy one lately—tired, restless, wanting to be held more often than not. Lonely. And with a mama like Leela, who drifted too easily and got lost too deep in her own head, Joel figured it wasn’t a bad idea to show her around. Give her something new to look at.

“What do you think, baby girl?” he murmured, shifting her closer, his palm smoothing down her tiny back. “Did I do okay or what?”

Maya blinked up at him, her whole body stilling for a second before she let out a soft, breathy coo.

Joel grinned. “Yeah?” he chuckled. “That a yes?”

She wiggled in his hold, that gummy little smile coming alive, kicking lightly against his ribs, and Joel felt himself exhale—deep, easy, something loosening inside him. She liked it. The nursery. The lights. Him. Maybe none of it mattered in that little head of hers, but she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t fussing. She was looking at him like she trusted him, and God help him, but he wanted to deserve that.

He took her toward the shelves, kneeling carefully with her in one arm, balancing his weight as he pointed to the row of paint cans. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s pick a colour. What’s it gonna be, huh?” He tilted them slightly, exposing the faded labels. “We got white. Some kinda blue. Green.”

Maya reacted immediately, tiny fist stretching out, fingers grazing toward the muted green.

Joel huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? That your favorite?”

Her fingers brushed the side of the can, fascinated by the cool metal, a quiet coo slipping from her lips.

Joel hesitated for a second, then gave in. He really couldn't help himself. At that moment, he just had to. Slowly, carefully, he shifted her closer, lowering his head and pressing a kiss to the soft crown of her unsteady little head.

She smelled faint and sweet as always, like baby powder and fresh linens, and he let himself linger for a second longer than he should have, feeling the heat of her through his shirt, the tiny weight of her against his chest.

Maya wiggled in response, not in protest, but excitement, legs kicking slightly.

Joel exhaled, something breaking loose inside him.

Maybe she could. Maybe she knew, in that small, primal way babies knew things, that Joel was someone safe. That he wouldn’t let her fall. That he really fucking loved her.

A rustle at the doorway made him glance up from a kiss. Leela stood there, her hand lightly braced against the frame, watching him.

Joel was caught off guard, leaning away from Maya a bit, settling her lower against his chest. “Hey,” he greeted, voice low. “Just givin’ her the lay of the land.”

Leela’s expression didn’t change. She only flashed a tight, fleeting smile before stepping forward, arms extending toward Maya. “You wanna take a bath with mama?”

Maya twisted in his hold, cooing eagerly now, little hands reaching for her mother. Even after everything, her mother was still her favourite person.

Joel let her go, careful as he passed her over to Leela. Their hands brushed, warm skin against warm skin, and he ignored the way it lingered, how her fingers barely curled in his before she took Maya into her arms.

“She’s been good,” Joel muttered.

Leela nodded, running a gentle palm over Maya’s back. “There’s lunch downstairs if you’re hungry.”

Joel studied her for a beat, his fingers brushing idly against his tool belt. “…Did you eat something?”

She hesitated. Too long. Then nodded, slow.

He didn’t call her on the lie. Instead, he nodded back, watching as she turned on her heel, shifting Maya closer against her shoulder. She left him with another tight, fleeting smile before disappearing down the hall.

Joel breathed out a sigh, glancing back at the half-finished room. Maya’s soft, content coos still lingered in the air. The green paint sat on the shelf, waiting.

And for some damn reason, he felt lonelier than he had in a long, long time.

It had taken him eleven days. Too long for a man like him. But he hadn’t rushed at all. He should’ve, but he didn’t. Had he been the same old Joel—good ol’ Texas Joel—this would’ve been a job done in a heartbeat. A blink, and he’d be out of her way. He wouldn’t have noticed things. Wouldn’t have lingered like a moron.

Maybe it was because of the way Leela barely spoke to him anymore. Or that she wouldn’t look him in the eye when she checked on his progress in clipped words and hums, wouldn’t even glance his way when she passed Maya to him like clockwork, a silent, wordless thing between them.

Maybe because when she leaves him standing at the porch at the end of the day, the door closing shut in his face, it didn’t feel like closing a chapter. It felt like a fucking wall going up.

Joel found her in the kitchen that evening, standing by the counter, wrist-deep in soapy water. It was late, Maya was snoozing her little head off upstairs, the house dim except for the overhead light humming low above them.

She didn’t stagger when he entered, didn’t look at him either. Just kept scrubbing the hell out of a plate, though he was pretty sure it was already clean. He dawdled near the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing.

He should’ve left. Should’ve let the silence settle. But he couldn't just leave it alone.

Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped forward, leaning a hip against the counter. “Y’know, you got a dishwasher. It's half the effort,” he pointed out.

Leela gave a small huff. “Electricity’s scarce.”

Joel snorted. “So is water, darlin’.”

She finally glanced at him, just a flicker, then back to the sink.

He tapped his fingers against the counter, searching for something—anything—to keep her in this moment with him. “Made good progress today,” he said. “Maya... she tried to turn on her side. The nursery; well, I just need to fix up that dresser and—”

“Look, thank you. But I’m really tired, Joel.”

She said it without looking at him, her voice level, no bite to it. Just a statement. A locked door. He should’ve expected it, should’ve shrugged it off and moved on. Instead, something about the words, directed at him, sat wrong inside him. All that hurt-people-hurt-people-drivel that Maria used to say came back to bite him in the ass.

He hesitated, shifting his weight onto his feet. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I should get going.”

She said nothing. Just shut off the faucet, dried her hands on a towel, and walked past him, close enough that the damp heat of her skin lingered for half a second longer than it should have. And despite fighting the urge to glance back at her as she left the room, he watched her disappear down the hall.

Joel stood outside her door for a long moment, which he had conscientiously locked, staring at the chipped paint of the doorframe, jaw clenching. His eyes flicked to the porch swing. It swayed slightly in the cold breeze.

Was it juvenile to think maybe she’d prefer his company? Was it fucking brainless of him to crave somewhere to belong? A purpose? Was he meant to die alone in a strange house and surrounded by empty whiskey bottles? Maybe. Probably. But hell if he didn’t wish it anyway.

Joel didn’t want to admit it—not directly, not even to himself—but he wanted to talk to her. Not about anything in particular. Not about that night in the Maranello, or how her little, breathy laugh was possibly the best thing to hear after those roars and clicks of the world beyond, or why she’d started looking at him instead of through him.

He just wanted something. Because before, there had been something. It wasn’t like talking to most people, where you had to pick your words apart before they even left your mouth, where you had to navigate bullshit small talk or forced pleasantries. With Leela, it had been... easy. Unspoken. A warm kind of quiet, the kind where he didn’t have to think too much, where he could just be.

He'll admit it, just this once—he liked that about her. He liked that a moment didn’t have to be forced. That he didn’t have to overthink, that they had a rhythm, a delicate system between them, one that made sense even if neither of them ever put words to it.

But now?

Now, she barely looked at him. Nowadays, when she passed Maya to him, it wasn’t with that quiet, knowing ease or a friendly grin, no matter how tired it had been—it was mechanical, transactional, like handing over a set of keys. Like a reminder that he wasn’t supposed to be here, and he didn’t know what to call that. Didn’t like the way it made his instincts turn over, uneasy, in his chest.

All that lingering had finally paid off, and Joel had found his way in. He wasn’t going to show it, of course—wasn’t gonna give himself away like some fool—but damn if he wasn’t relieved.

After days of unending cold shoulders, after all that stiff distance, this was the first real opening he’d gotten. An excuse. A way to talk to her without forcing it.

He had been fixing a flickering wall lamp that had been bugging him for some time now, in the second-floor hallway, standing on a step stool when—

CRASH.

The whole house plunged into darkness. The light he’d been working on blinked out, along with the rest of them, and then—a groan. A pained, breathy, hitched groan from below. His entire body tensed before his brain caught up.

Then came the wailing. Maya.

Joel’s heart stammered, caught between two instincts. The damn near gutting sound of the baby girl's frightened cries and that groan—that voice—he'd distinctly heard from the basement.

Fuck. His feet moved before his mind did. He leapt off the stool, tools cluttering to the floor, ignoring the protesting ache in his knees as he tore down the hall to Maya’s room. She was red-faced, eyes squeezed shut, fists curled as she screamed, trembling from the shock.

"Hey, hey, Maya," Joel hushed, scooping her up into his arms, and pulling her against his chest. "S'okay, sweetheart. I got you. I got you."

He shushed her, palm stroking warm circles over her back, bouncing her lightly in his arms. His heartbeat was loud, hammering in his ears, drowning everything out but the damn groan still hanging in his mind.

Leela.

She was down there, in that cursed basement, alone. And that sound had been awful.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, pressing his lips to Maya’s head before pulling back. More for himself rather than her.

“I'm right here, baby. Nothin’ to be scared of.” His voice was steady—measured—but his hands weren’t. His grip on her was a little too tight. They trembled a little.

Maya sniffled, her cries quieting just enough to slow his pulse, and he took that as his chance. Keeping her tucked to his chest, he made his way down the stairs, near flying, boots thudding against the wood.

His breath hitched as he reached the basement door. “Hey, you down here?” he called, shoving it open with his shoulder, jogging down to the dim space below.

Then he saw her.

Leela was slumped against the wall, obvious that she had been tossed into it, her silhouette barely lit by the glare of an emergency lamp in the corner. She was gripping her shoulder fiercely, rubbing it like she was trying to erase the pain. Her fingers dug in hard.

The remnants of her little "science project" upgrade lay scattered around her. Loose wires, metal scraps, a circuit board still humming with life. The main plug socket was connected. Was she fucking stupid? There was a baby upstairs, and she was ready to risk her home for that dumbass machine.

And her face—Fuck. She had gone pale. Eyes squeezed shut. Her chest rose and fell like she was working through an intense wave of pain.

“Christ.” The word came out more like a breath than anything. Joel took a step forward, but when his eyes landed on the tangled wires, something burned under his ribs.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” His voice came out rougher than intended, fear clawing at his throat, disguising itself as frustration.

Leela’s eyes fluttered open, hazy but sharp. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine.” She held up a hand to stop him before he could kneel down beside her. “Just a bit of bruising. Maya first.”

Joel clenched his jaw.

She was right. Damn it, he hated that she was right. Maya, now hiccupping soft little breaths against his chest, was the priority.

“Right,” he muttered, though the reluctance in his voice was clear. He cast her one last look, making sure she was still upright, still breathing normal, before turning back up the stairs.

It took ten whole minutes to get Maya settled, and that was a miracle in itself. He'd resorted to pleading under his breath, but she had continued to watch him, eyes wide, refusing to let sleep take her like she knew something was wrong. She was perceptive. Just like her mother.

Finally, finally, her little lashes fluttered shut, her tiny hand still gripping onto his shirt.

Joel exhaled, relief going awash his tension. “Good girl,” he murmured, before unfurling her fingers from his collar, brushing a kiss over them and laying her back down.

Then he was sprinting again. Back down the stairs, faster than he should have been, hand gripping the railing tight.

Leela hadn’t moved much. She was still slumped against the basement wall, her breaths deep and restrained—like she was trying to breathe the pain away.

Joel came down to a crouch by her feet. “Hey.”

“I'm fine, Joel, really,” she assured quietly.

Though, he could tell she was pissed at herself. She hated being like this—vulnerable, hurting, unable to brush it off and acting like it didn’t happen. But Joel saw it. He saw her. How she'd tilted her head against the wall, eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling.

Leela truly was fine. Bruised, rattled—but fine.

Joel had checked her over once more, ensuring nothing was broken, no serious harm done, and he had to force himself to believe her when she said she’d be okay.

But her hands. Oh, Christ. The dim glow of the emergency lamp cast a dull shine over her skin, and that’s when he noticed—the raw, reddened patches along her fingertips. The unmistakable burn marks where the electricity must’ve bit into her.

"Shit." He exhaled sharply through his nose, scraping a hand down his beard as he stared at her fingers.

She must’ve seen the look on his face because she tucked her hands close to her stomach like she could make them disappear. “Seriously,” she murmured, voice hoarse. “I’ve had worse.”

Joel’s jaw ticked. She wasn’t wrong. And that made something in him burn even hotter.

“C’mon,” he muttered, nodding toward the stairs. “Up.”

Leela hesitated, but the way he stood—the way he waited—made it clear he wasn’t asking. So she sighed and pushed herself upright, and Joel stayed close, arms extended safely around her, watching the way she moved, the way her body reacted.

She didn’t stumble. Didn’t wobble. That was good. No concussion or broken bones. A knot in his chest loosened instantly.

Once they made it back upstairs, Joel had her sit at the kitchen table, lit up from the sunshine filtering through from the afternoon sun. He set a bowl of warm water down in front of her, the steam curling into the space between them. He grabbed a small tin of ointment after a bit of rustling through the cabinets, then a roll of gauze, then paused, eyes flicking to her.

She was watching him. Still. Silent. Waiting.

Joel breathed out, slow and even, then came back over, pulling a chair beside her. He reached for her wrist, gently, carefully, lifting her hands into his own. A silent ask. Permission. Lesson learned from the last time he'd touched her.

Leela tensed for half a second before sighing, letting him take them.

She was trying to play it off like it didn’t hurt. Like it was fine. But as soon as he dipped her fingertips into the warm water, she sucked in a quiet breath through her teeth.

Joel’s grip tightened just a little. He tried to squeeze everything he had felt these past few days into a single word—“Sorry.”

He worked, taking it slow, gently swiping away the dust and grime, watching the way her skin flinched under the heat. His thumbs moved gradually, steadily, like he was afraid to make it worse.

“Y’gotta be more careful,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “Damn wires ain’t worth all this. Remember, you’ve got someone countin’ on you.”

Leela let out a soft, tired laugh. “I didn’t know I had a nanny now.”

Joel shot her a look. “You don’t. You got me.”

She blinked at that.

Her lips parted slightly, but whatever she was about to say, she thought better of it. Instead, she let him work, let him take care of her, and trusted his instincts, and that felt like something neither of them was ready to acknowledge just yet.

Once her hands were cleaned, he dried them carefully, mindful of the more sensitive spots, before smoothing ointment over each burnt fingertip.

Leela twitched. “Ow.”

Joel grunted. “Ain’t gonna feel good, but it’ll keep it from blisterin’ too bad.”

He finished wrapping the gauze around her fingers, slow and precise, making sure they weren’t too tight. Leela stared down at her hands when he was done, flexing her fingers slightly, testing the bandages like she wasn’t sure what to make of them. Three fingers on each hand.

Joel blew out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face as he took in the house.

It was quiet. Too damn quiet. God, he hated this. That unnatural kind, where something had been cut short too suddenly—like the whole place had been stunned into silence. The shot-out lights overhead blinked weakly before finally dying out for good, leaving nothing but the cold creeping in from every corner.

It was already setting in. The draft slithered through the cracks in the windows, curling around his ankles, and sinking into the wood beneath his feet. The thermostat had shut off along with the rest of the power, which meant no heat. Not with how damn cold it got out here. Jesus, he'd forgotten to tuck some extra layers around Maya.

His eyes swept the room. A busted power grid. A rattled woman nursing bruises. A two-month-old baby upstairs who didn’t know a damn thing about survival, who didn’t understand that warmth wasn’t something she could just take for granted.

And this woman—this stubborn, frustrating woman—was already trying to stand up like she hadn’t just been thrown into a wall.

"I'll go check it out. Don't worry, Joel, I know what to do," Leela offered, pushing herself up.

Joel shot out a hand, firm, stopping her before she could get any further.

"You ain't fixin’ shit, you hear me?" His voice came out rougher than he intended, but hell if he cared. "Sit your damn ass down. You're stayin' at my place till I get this sorted."

The prospect did not sit well with her. He could see it in the way her jaw clenched, her eyes flicking to the window like she was already searching for another solution.

She shook her head. "I can't—"

"That's not an option."

She looked at him then, her brows drawing together. And he knew what she saw—knew she saw that hard-set determination in his face, the part of him that had already made up his mind.

What she didn’t see—what he’d never let her see—was the way his chest was burning with something too tight, too damn close to fear.

Because he’d walked into cold houses before. Knew what happened when the temperature dropped too low. Had seen bodies frozen stiff in the middle of the night, curled up as if that had been enough to keep them warm. Had seen what happened when people thought they could tough it out. He'd rather never see or smell that ever again.

Now, Leela thought she could tough it out. But he wasn’t about to let her gamble with a baby’s warmth just to prove a damn point. And if she thought this was some kind of negotiation, she was dead wrong. Because he wasn’t giving her a choice.

He exhaled slowly, grounding himself, softening the edges just enough so he wasn’t barking orders at her like some kind of drill sergeant.

“Just for a while,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Till I can fix whatever the hell you fucked up down there.”

Leela didn’t answer right away, lips pressing into a thin line. But she wasn’t stupid.

She glanced up toward the stairs, toward where Maya was still sleeping. Then back at him. Joel could see the exact moment she gave in. Her shoulders slumped as she relented.

He nodded, standing up, already running through what needed to be done. “Good. I'll go bundle up the kid.”

Joel hasn't exactly planned to have company. Ever.

Maria and Tommy showed up sometimes. Ellie, too—though not without complaint. She claimed the place smelled like old people and swore visiting would tank her cool factor. But even when they came around, he never let them stay too long. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before he was ushering them out the door with a gruff, Alright, get on, and some excuse about needing to be up early. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having people around. It was just—his place wasn’t made for that. He hadn’t made it for that.

It was single floor, nice and compact. He slept on the pullout couch in the living room. Not because he didn’t have that one really sweet bedroom, but because it was easier nowadays—closer to the door, closer to the window that faced the big white house across the street. His sink was a mess of dishes from last night, crusted over and rotting in the stale air. His cabinets weren’t stocked with food so much as they were with whiskey and coffee.

He came home. He ate. He slept. He woke up. Showered. Left. That was it. That was his life. It was enough and to spare.

So when Leela and Maya showed up at his front door, he wasn’t prepared. Not in the slightest.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, stepping aside to let her in. “Come on, then.”

Leela ducked inside first, shaking the cold from her coat, eyes flicking around the place as if she were already judging him for it. And maybe she was. Hell, Joel sure as shit would. Because this—this eyesore—was how she was gonna see him. As some tired, deadbeat old man who hadn’t even tried.

Maya stirred against her chest, her little hands fisting in the collar of Leela’s coat.

Joel cleared his throat and reached for her automatically. He needed his calm here. “C’mere, baby girl.”

She squealed at the sound of his voice, squirming, her small fingers flexing, gripping the fabric of his flannel before she finally settled against him, warm and soft. Joel let out a quiet breath through his nose, a strange kind of tightness unwinding from his ribs. He hadn’t even realized he’d been bracing for something.

“She can stay with me,” Leela said softly, slipping out of her coat.

Joel shook his head. “Nah, you get some rest. You’re takin’ the room down the hall.”

Leela blinked, surprised. “And you?”

Joel busied himself with Maya, playing catch and release with her tiny fists, letting her grab onto his finger before slipping it away. “I’ll be fine. Got the couch.”

She frowned. “But you’ve got that bad back.”

Joel sighed, jaw twitching. “Yes, ma'am. Thanks for noticin’.”

Leela’s mouth quirked slightly, just a little, but enough that it softened something in her expression. “You should take the bed, Joel.”

He hummed, shaking his head, shifting Maya a little higher against his chest. “You just shot into a wall and burned yourself, darlin’. I think you’re entitled to a bed.”

She tilted her head at him, her brow pinching together like she was trying to figure something out.

Joel stared back, more stubborn than apprehensive, his grip tightening just a fraction around Maya’s small body.

He wasn’t sure what it was, that look of hers. But damn if it didn’t make him feel like he was seen in a way he wasn’t used to. Like she was really looking at him—not the grumpy bastard everyone in Jackson thought he was, not the fixer, not the old guy sleeping his way through life—but him.

Joel shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. “Look, you’re takin’ the bed, that’s that. Maya can sleep next to you, so she’ll be closer.”

Leela was still staring at him, quiet for a long beat.

Then eventually she sighed. “Okay.”

It wasn’t much, but it felt like that little something Joel had wanted. Like an inch of the cold between them had finally cracked, let some warmth in.

Look, of course, Joel had always known his house was too damn small. He just hadn’t felt it until now.

There was no privacy to be had, not really. The pullout couch in the living room faced the bedroom door, left cracked open just enough for him to see the gentle rise and fall of Maya’s little body curled against where Leela would sleep later. The bathroom was the only one in the house, meaning if she needed it in the middle of the night, she’d have to walk past him to get there.

Not much space. Not much distance.

So when he heard the soft shuffle of her feet against the wood floor, he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t even have to look up from the guitar in his hands to know she’d wandered further inside, drawn toward the small corner of the living room where he kept his workspace.

It was a cramped setup—a shabby studio table shoved against the wall, two half-finished guitars resting on stands nearby. He’d only just started working on them, but it gave his hands something to do, something to create.

Leela’s fingers grazed over the unfinished wood, her touch featherlight. “I didn’t know you were this talented. A luthier.”

Joel chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Layin’ it on a bit thick.”

She ignored him, curiosity guiding her hands as she thumbed over the strings. A quiet hum vibrated through the air, not a real note, just a sound. She tilted her head, listening.

“Would you make one for me when you have time to spare?” she asked, glancing up. “I’d love to learn.”

Joel almost laughed, because—yeah. Yeah, he’d drop dead before refusing that. “‘Course,” he said, voice low but certain.

Leela’s eyes found it too easily, drawn in like a moth to an old light. He almost wished he'd hid it away.

The picture that had survived time and death, sat on the corner shelf, tucked between a coil of guitar strings and a worn-out rag, the frame dull with dust he never bothered to wipe away. The glass was cracked, a thin vein running through the top left corner, but it didn’t matter. The image was still there. She was still there.

Sarah, grinning wide, her curls bouncing as she leaned into him, arms slung around his shoulders. Joel remembered that day. He’d taken her out to some shitty little carnival on the edge of town, and let her sucker him into one of those rigged ring toss games. She’d won a stuffed bear—cheated, more like, because the booth worker had taken pity on her—and held onto it the whole night like it was the greatest thing in the world.

She looked happy. They looked happy.

And it hit him—like it always did, like it always would—how long it had been since he’d last heard her voice. Since she’d called him 'Dad!' in that exasperated, teasing way of hers. Since she’d looked at him like he was the safest place she’d ever known.

Leela didn’t say anything. She didn’t even reach for it, didn’t let her gaze linger too long. Just acknowledged it, felt it, then moved past it, like she understood that some ghosts weren’t meant to be disturbed. Let them rest.

Joel swallowed. It wasn’t often that someone gave him that kind of space—left his past untouched, let him sit with it without trying to crack it open.

She leaned back against the edge of the desk, brushing her fingers through her hair again—one of those little habits of hers, nervous and absentminded. The strands were overgrown, frayed at the ends, and he knew she probably didn’t have the time to fix it, or maybe just didn’t care enough to. He should tell Maria to give her a trim.

But, she wasn’t wearing that pearl-buttoned nightdress tonight. This one was blue. Smooth. Loose-fitting. The frilled sleeves barely touched her shoulders, and it wasn’t anything special, not really, but—he liked it. That colour looked pretty on her skin.

The thought settled in his chest like an itch he didn’t know how to scratch.

Leela watched her fingers trail absently over the wood grain of the desk. “I owe you an apology, Joel,” she murmured, her voice quieter now.

Joel listened and didn’t speak, just let the words settle between them.

“For how I’ve been treating you.” She swallowed, gaze flicking up to him, uncertain but steady. “You’ve only ever helped me, and you're so good with Maya. I know it wasn’t fair of me to just… shut you out.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

But she wasn’t convinced. She hesitated, jaw tensing, lips parting slightly before pressing shut again. There was something she wanted to say like it was dislodged deep, festering, in her chest.

“That night in the car…” She took a breath like it might help balance her. It didn’t. “It wasn't you. I had—before Maya, I was—there was—”

Joel knew that look. The way her throat bobbed, her fingers curling against the desk like she needed something solid to hold onto. Holding herself together. He didn’t let her unravel, just not tonight.

“Stop,” he said, gentle but firm. “You don’t have to explain.”

Leela blinked at him, studying his face, like she was trying to decide if he meant it. So he shrugged, forcing a small, easy grin.

“Perks of havin’ me around. I don’t care for the details.”

A small breath of laughter escaped her. Real, unguarded, softening the edges of her face. He loved to see it on her. “That's a relief.”

Joel leaned forward, rubbing his palm over his knee, the dull ache settling in from the long day.

His voice was lower when he spoke. “It’s just nice to be there, y’know?” He wasn’t good at this—saying shit like this—but it began to get easier with her. “With Maya. And you. There's more purpose than just shooting things beyond the fence.”

Something flickered across Leela’s face.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the desk, and her knuckles paled with how tightly she gripped it. “You’re welcome home anytime, Joel. My door’s always open for you.”

Joel’s chest pulled tight.

He looked at her. And he thought about that damn oak door, how she never locked it, how he’d always given her hell for it in his head. And how, for the first time, it didn’t feel like carelessness.

It felt like trust. Not in this boring town of survivors. But in the neighbour across the street who'd ferreted his way into their lives.

Leela took a slow breath, glancing down before meeting his eyes again. “So, you don’t have to come around just to fix things next time.”

Her voice was softer now. And then—something else. A small, almost shy laugh slipped past her lips, barely there, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say this next part out loud.

“Come to eat. To talk. To see Maya.” A beat. “And me.”

Joel felt it then—the shift. It wasn’t big, wasn’t some grand, earth-shaking thing. But it was there. He felt it.

"Maya loves you so much."

Joel glanced at her, unable to hold back the sympathy. He should’ve just let it sit. Should’ve just nodded, grunted something, and let the conversation move on. But instead, he said, low, “That bothering you?”

Leela hesitated, but only for a second. Then she sighed, rubbing a hand over her neck. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe.”

Joel stayed quiet, watching her.

She let out a quiet, humourless laugh. “It’s just... I don’t feel like her mother. Not really.” Her voice was even, but he could hear the strain underneath, the sharp edge of something she didn’t want to say aloud. “I do everything I’m supposed to. Feed her. Hold her. Change her. But it’s just... a list to get through.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “I thought it would be different. I know it's such an awful thing to say.”

Joel felt that like a punch to the gut. He knew what she meant. Knew how goddamn isolating it could be—to go through the motions, do the right thing, and still feel like you’re on the outside looking in.

“She’s yours, darlin',” he said after a moment. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing—at making sense of feelings, at giving comfort. He was trying. “That’s what matters. Sometimes it's not a magic switch, you can't just flip it on and feel it. Sometimes, you grow to love someone. Over time, energy, effort.”

Leela scoffed, quiet, barely there. “That all it takes?”

“No,” Joel admitted. “But it’s good enough.”

She finally looked at him then, something cautious in her expression, something raw. He didn’t push. Didn’t try to say anything else. Just let the silence stretch, easy and open, not asking for more than she was willing to give.

Leela swallowed, nodding slightly, like she was tucking the words away, considering them.

The space between them, once weighed down by hesitation, by careful sidesteps and unspoken rules, felt… lighter. Like the tension that had settled into the cracks between their words was finally easing, letting some warmth slip through.

And that? That did something to him.

His throat worked around something unspoken, and he rolled his shoulders back, shifting from feet to feet, like he could physically shake whatever the hell was loose inside him. The words that wanted to come didn’t.

Instead, he settled on something simpler. Something safer.

“You should get some rest.”

Leela’s gaze lingered, searching, like she was trying to read something in his face. Then she nodded, flashing a grin. “Sure,” she murmured. “Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel held her gaze for a moment longer. His fingers flexed at his sides, a familiar itch settling in his chest, the kind that always came when he stood in doorways when someone was walking away and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow or stay put.

He watched her retreat into the room, disappear behind the cracked door, and stand there for a moment before finally turning away.

The door was open again. And that was the thing about doors.

They worked both ways.

While on the road, Joel had spent years sleeping in places that barely counted as beds. Hard ground. Rusted truck seats. Creaking, sagging mattresses in abandoned buildings where one wrong turn meant waking up dead. Even now, safe inside these walls, inside this town where people thought fences and routine were enough to keep the bad out, behind homes with locked doors—well, should have locked doors—he never truly slept deep.

Always on alert. Always half-ready. Even in the comfort of a home he could call his.

Joel lay on the couch, stiff as the thing itself, staring into the rough fabric. He wasn’t asleep—he never really was—but he kept his back turned anyway. It felt like the right thing to do, a courtesy or some form of privacy in a house too damn small to actually have any.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that. Long enough for the warmth of the fire to ebb. Long enough to hear the wind pick up outside, rattling at the windows. Long enough to wonder if Leela had finally managed to fall asleep.

He exhaled through his nose and, without really thinking about it, rolled over onto his side, eyes shifting toward the bedroom.

Leela was out cold.

Her hair had been pulled back into a loose braid, but strands had escaped, curling softly against her cheek. One hand dangled into the mattress as if she’d fallen asleep patting Maya and never quite finished. He could see the slow rise and fall of her chest, deep and steady, her body given over to exhaustion.

Joel frowned as his eyes drifted lower. The blanket had slipped, barely covering her waist, her legs left bare to the chill of the night. One knee peeked out, the curve of it catching the dim, murky light of the bedside lamp. He felt his jaw tighten, his fingers flexing at his side. Wasn’t she cold?

But then his eyes landed on the baby in front of her, and the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding eased right out of him.

Maya was not asleep. Flat on her back, legs kicking sharp, barbed movements, her tiny fingers flexing in the air, opening and closing like she was trying to grab something invisible. Every so often, she let out a soft little coo, her breath light, testing, careful not to wake her mother.

Joel squinted. Lifted his head a little. Maybe she was just shifting in her sleep.

Nope, the kid was fully awake. Big, round eyes blinking up at the ceiling, mouth open in a little round ‘o’ of discovery, her hands reaching for her own damn feet, like she’d only just realized they were attached to her.

He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. He could just leave her be. She wasn’t crying. Wasn’t fussing. She'd fall asleep on her own.

But then she spotted him.

Joel sighed. That was it. No walking away now.

Ignoring the slow, persistent cramp in his back, he shifted, pressing his hands into the pullout and pushing himself upright. His knees popped when he stood, and he winced, rolling his shoulders as he made his way into the bedroom. The floor groaned under his feet, but Leela didn’t stir. She was too far gone, too lost to the bruises and the exhaustion pressing her under.

Maya, on the other hand—beamed up at him, wiggling harder, completely unbothered by the late hour, her tiny hands batting at the air.

Joel sighed through his nose and crouched down beside the bed. He held up a finger to his lips. “Ssh, ssh,” he murmured like she had any damn understanding of the concept.

Her fists continued to flail, little feet kicking the air, and he sighed, leaning down to scoop her up. She fit into his arms easily, the way she always did—small and naming the nook to herself, all warm skin and bundled sleepiness. Sleep fired right out of his system.

“You're gonna wake your poor mama,” he whispered to her.

Shifting Maya against his chest, he glanced at Leela again. She hadn’t moved a muscle, fast asleep. But the blanket had slipped low, barely covering her waist, her arms left uncovered to the cold.

Joel hesitated for only a second before leaning over, taking the edge of the comforter and tucking it around her, careful not to wake her. The fabric pooled at her shoulder, and she sighed quietly in her sleep, sinking into the warmth of the bed, but not waking.

Good. She was finally catching up on sleep. When was the last time he'd seen that girl rest? Never. She'd always woken up the earliest, wandering between her papers and blackboards in the living room.

Maya let out a content little hum against his shoulder, and Joel blew out a breath, stepping back out of the bedroom and into the dimly lit living room. He wasn’t going to bother putting her back on the bed. She was too awake for that.

Instead, he plunged back onto the couch, settling into the cushions and adjusting her against his chest. She curled into him easily, her featherlight weight pressing against his ribs. She hummed again, a soft, breathy little thing, and then—one of her fists landed against his sternum with a dull thump.

Joel huffed, peering down at her. “You tryin’ to knock the wind outta me, trouble?”

Maya lifted her head to blink up again, dark eyes round and glassy in the dim light, looking like she had something important to say. Then her fist lifted again, this time smacking more of a lazy pat than anything with real intent.

He narrowed a playful glare on her, shifting her a little higher against him. He poked at her cheek. “We got some problems, or is this just your way of lettin’ me know you’re still awake?”

She didn’t answer—fucking obviously—but she did something close to it. Her mouth rounded in a small, exaggerated ooh, and her fingers fumbled against his shirt before one of them caught onto his.

Joel felt the soft, clumsy pull of her grip, then the unmistakable wet warmth of her mouth closing around the tip of his finger.

He grimaced, but not in any real discomfort. “Great, there you go. You're lucky you're so beautiful.”

Maya suckled lazily, brows furrowing like she was concentrating really hard on the task, and Joel exhaled, letting her gnaw as much as she wanted.

Joel stared at the ceiling, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing slow, careful circles against her back.

She was a happier baby now. Not screaming. Not crying as much. Just there. Comfortable and safe.

He swallowed against the feeling mashing against his ribs. His jaw unclenched, let his head fall back against the couch, eyes slipping shut. And he let out the longest breath known to man.

It had been years—years since he’d felt this weight, this warmth, this need pressed against him. It was a different life, a different world, but somehow, it wasn’t. His body still knew this, still remembered the rhythm of it, the quiet intimacy of a baby trusting him enough to just be here, curled up against his chest, with no fear, no hesitation.

Loved this.

He wasn’t thinking about the past. No, he wasn’t. But if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t admit it.

The sound of the front door unlocking jolted him.

Joel’s eyes snapped open, his entire body tensing for a fight as his hand instinctively curled around Maya’s small back, protective, ready. His other hand curled into a loose fist at his thigh.

The door eased open with a quiet creak, and a familiar silhouette stepped inside.

Ellie.

“Joel?” she whispered, peering at him in confusion.

Joel just stared at her. Not because she was here—she was always stopping by when she damn well pleased—but because for the first time in his life, he was the one who forgot to lock the damn door.

Maya shifted against his chest, making a soft noise, her tiny fingers still curled around his. Joel gave her a small, reassuring bounce as if she’d needed one.

Ellie, meanwhile, was still standing there, taking in the sight of him on the couch, a whole baby in his arms, and the bedroom door cracked open just enough to hint at the woman asleep inside. The pretty neighbour that had Joel all riled up.

Her eyebrows lifted and mouth twitched as she crossed her arms. “This isn’t a hostage situation, right? Am I an accomplice now?”

Joel sent her a flat look. “Whatever gave that away?”

Ellie then continued to stare at him and at Maya.

It was the kind of look Joel had gotten used to over the years, the one where she tried to figure out if she was hallucinating. Because she’d seen Joel Miller do a lot of things—wrangle Clickers, nurse a cold one, fix up a rifle—but sitting on his couch, cradling a whole-ass baby like that? It was a new one. Like unlocking a new character in a video game.

Her lips pressed together, eyes still flicking between him and the kid, and then—she snorted.

“Oh, man,” she whispered, shaking her head, a shit-eating grin spreading over her face. “I wish I had a camera to capture this gold.”

Joel sighed. “Alright, get on with it.”

Grinning, Ellie plopped herself down beside him, the whole couch shaking, immediately leaning in close to peer at Maya. Almost as if she was the first infant she'd seen in her life.

“Hi, baby,” she cooed, voice going all high-pitched and ridiculous. “Hiiii.”

Maya blinked at her, unmoving, her fists curled safely in her mouth, her tiny brows furrowing as if she were trying to figure out just who the hell this new person was.

Ellie wiggled a finger in front of her. “Here. Go on, grab it.”

Maya did not. She just kept staring, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, utterly mystified by the sudden intrusion.

Joel huffed. “Guess she ain’t impressed.”

“Guess she’s got taste, you dick,” Ellie shot back. Then, her face softened, a little smirk curling her lips. “She’s fucking adorable. Look at those eyes, damn.” Joel barely had time to process the warmth that spread through his chest before Ellie tacked on, “So, definitely not yours.”

His scoff came out before he could stop it. “Oh, real funny, kid.”

Ellie chuckled, finally settling back against the couch, still watching Maya like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “How come they’re here?”

Joel didn’t go into the details, never liked to. About Leela’s bruises, about how she’d been too damn stubborn for her own good, about how he’d practically had to drag her in here to sleep in his bed.

Instead, he just muttered, “Blackout. Gonna head back in the morning and check it out.”

Ellie hummed like she knew there was more to it but didn’t feel like prying.

For a while, they just sat there in silence, and Joel simply let himself watch. The room was dim, the fire in the hearth burned low, throwing flickering shadows across the worn wooden floors. The cold pressed against the windows, creeping in through the cracks, but in here, it was warm—quiet, steady. Both in him and around him.

Ellie leaned in closer, her breath puffing softly against Maya’s round little cheek as she wiggled her fingers in front of her face. “What about this? You like this?” she murmured, tapping her tiny nose, and making a series of stupid clicking sounds.

Maya blinked, floored by this, her wide eyes tracking Ellie’s every move like she was watching the most fascinating thing in the world.

It took another few moments, but then—finally—Maya’s tiny fingers reached out, wrapping shyly around Ellie’s outstretched one. Not tight, not possessive, just curious. Testing.

Joel felt that feeling again, twisting deep in his ribs, imperceptive and calm and unnameable. He could get used to that feeling. It plugged every scar, physical and mental, until his shoulders felt ten times lighter.

The kid he’d sort of raised, playing with the baby he was yet to.

And for the first time in a long time, that muddle just… settled. It was late, too late in life for this kind of thing. But hell, cut him some slack.

Joel exhaled slowly, staring into the last of the fire, watching as the embers pulsed and flickered, struggling to stay alive. His hand absently smoothed over Maya’s back, following the slow rise and fall of her breathing, feeling the tiny weight of her against his chest. She was still. Not fussing. Just there.

Ellie shifted beside him, stretching her legs out, resting her arms against her knees. She wasn’t in a hurry to fill the silence. She just sat there, watching him in that way of hers, like she saw more than she let on.

“So,” she finally said, voice casual. “How’re things between you and…?”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Just flicked her chin toward the bedroom.

Leela was still dead to the world, sunk into the kind of sleep that didn’t let you turn over, didn’t let you dream. Her hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, fingers curled loosely against the mattress. He wondered how long it had been since she’d let herself rest like that, without one ear open for some threat, without her body coiled tight, waiting for the next hang-up.

Joel looked away. He shifted slightly, adjusting Maya, keeping his voice even. “There’s nothing between us.”

Ellie hummed like she wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, no shit.” She stretched her arms behind her head, smirking. “She’s way out of your league.”

Joel snorted, shaking his head. “No argument here.”

He didn’t need Ellie to tell him that. He was thickheaded, but he wasn't blind. Leela was… Leela. Stunning in that exotic way, compassionate as a human, insanely intelligent. And him? What was he exactly, a cut-throat? A fighter? A relentless fucking human who just refused to die? Twenty years ago, a woman like that wouldn’t have given him the time of day, much less a second glance. A girl like her, back in the world before, would’ve had a whole life ahead of her, a whole set of possibilities. Not this. Not him.

And maybe that’s how it should’ve been. Maybe that’s why this didn’t make any sense.

He tensed his grip on Maya and felt the way she instinctively burrowed against him, curling her little fingers into the fabric of his shirt. She cooed again, watching his mouth move to form words.

He could be something for her. If Leela wanted it, he could carve out a space in Maya's life, be her constant, be her safety net. Hell, be this baby girl's father. He would compromise in a blink. That was different. That was right.

But having Leela herself? That was something else entirely. That was dangerous. That was selfish. There were too many ways it could go wrong. Too many ways it would end badly.

Not because of him, or her, or anything either of them did—just because that was the way life went. He wasn’t made for this kind of thing anymore. Wasn’t built for it. He was too damn old, too set in his ways. And even if she—somehow—wanted this, wanted him, what then? How long until he fucked it up? How long until he lost it?

The way he always did.

He swallowed hard. “I’m too old for her,” he managed to mutter.

Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You're fucking kidding. The world ended. There is no standard. And you still care about what, an age gap? Brownie points? Jesus, Joel. You've been through too much to care.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Just kept his gaze on the fire, jaw tight.

It wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about how it looked or what people would say. Hell, no one would care. He wouldn't care. They were past that kind of bullshit.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t still impossible.

Because Joel knew himself. He knew what it was like to want something real, to care about someone so much it hollowed you out from the inside. And he knew how fast it could all go to hell.

It was about the fact that she still had so much time. That she could still find someone real, someone better. That she deserved more than a haunted, greying man, who could barely sleep through the night, combing through his days, who lived waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

And she deserved better than a man too tired, too worn down by life, to give her more than what little he had left.

Ellie sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Y’know…” she started, then stopped.

Joel glanced at her, brow furrowing slightly.

She didn’t go on right away. Just drummed her fingers against her knee, staring into the fire, her face unreadable. For once, she wasn’t running her mouth, wasn’t making a joke to cut through whatever was settling between them. She was thinking. That alone put him on edge.

Finally, she said, “It’s different. These last few weeks. Even Tommy sees it.”

Joel frowned, not at the words themselves, but at the way she said them—slow, cautious, like she wasn’t just talking to him but trying to make sense of it for herself.

Ellie had always been good at reading him, sometimes better than he wanted. But this—this was different.

She flitted her gaze toward the bedroom, where Leela was still out cold, her body barely stirring under the blankets. Then to Maya, curled up against him, tiny fingers tangled in his shirt, her soft weight pressed into his chest. Finally, she looked back at him.

She didn’t spell it out. Didn’t need to.

Joel swallowed, shifting slightly where he sat, adjusting Maya’s weight in his arms. His hand smoothed down her back, more out of habit than anything else. He glanced toward the bedroom too, toward Leela, who hadn’t moved an inch. Yes, it was different.

But Ellie wasn’t done. She hesitated, rolling something over in her head before finally letting it out.

Joel’s breath caught.

Ellie had always been his reason for waking up in the morning, the one thing keeping him tethered to whatever life he had left. And she knew that. Knew it in the way she carried herself, in the way she fought with tooth and claw to prove she didn’t need him to keep her standing. That he had his own life. But now, sitting there, she wasn’t mocking, wasn’t teasing. She was just… saying it. And she was goddamn right.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just pushing forward because he had to, wasn’t just surviving out of habit. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder, waiting for the axe to fall.

He had something to come back to. Something steady. Something small and warm and his, even if he didn’t know what the hell to do with it yet.

He looked down at Maya, at her tiny, trusting weight in his arms, at the way she twitched slightly in her sleep, lips parting around a breath. His hand smoothed over her back again.

Ellie saw the moment it clicked. The way his face shifted, just slightly. She smirked, satisfied. And that her good work here was done.

Then, just like that, she clapped her hands on her knees and stood up. “Well,” she said, voice slipping back into that familiar teasing lilt, “guess I’ll let you get back to your hostage situation.”

Joel rolled his eyes, settling deeper into the couch as Maya nuzzled against his chest. The kid was out cold now, her little fist still tangled in his shirt.

Ellie was already heading for the door when she threw out in a whisper, “Oh—almost forgot. Maria asked me to tell you to bring your girl by the dam sometime this week.” She smirked, holding up air quotes. “Said she’d like ‘inventor insight.’”

His expression deadpanned. “Maria ain’t letting her go anywhere near machines.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Ooh-kay. Controlling much?”

Joel gave her a warning look. “Ellie.”

She dismissed him with a wave. “I’ll just tell her myself.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, already seeing how that would go. If Leela knew Maria was interested, she’d want to help. She’d go, eager to prove herself, eager to be useful. And then she’d get herself hurt again, pushing past whatever limits she had, just like she always did. That wasn’t happening.

“She’s stayin’ away,” he muttered. “She’ll go, then want to help. Overdo it. Get herself hurt or worse.” He gave Ellie a pointed look. “Better not.”

Ellie let out a sharp laugh, all evil intent. “And you’re telling me there’s nothing between you two?”

“Ellie,” he hissed, too fast, too sharp—just as Maya stirred slightly against his chest, her little face scrunching. He froze, holding his breath, waiting to see if she’d wake.

Ellie’s smirk was damn near insufferable.

“Denial,” she sang out, drawing out the word like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day.

Joel sent her a flat look.

Ellie just wiggled her fingers in a wave and made for the door once more. “Night, old man.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone in the quiet house, the fire crackling low in the hearth. Joel exhaled slowly, his hand smoothing absently over Maya’s back again.

Denial. Maybe. He wasn't ruling it out yet.

{ taglist 🫶: @kaseynsfws , @prose-before-hoes , @kateg88 , @laliceee , @escaping-reality8 , @mystickittytaco , @penvisions , @elliaze , @eviispunk , @lola-lola-lola , @peepawispunk , @sarahhxx03 , @julielightwood , @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi , @arten1234 , @jhiddles03 , @everinlove , @nobodycanknoww , @ashleyfilm , @rainbowcosmicchaos , @i-howl-like-a-wolf-at-the-moon , @orcasoul , @nunya7394 , @noisynightmarepoetry , @picketniffler , @ameagrice , @mojaveghst , @dinomecanico , @guelyury , @staytrueblue , @queenb-42069 , @suzysface , @btskzfav , @ali-in-w0nderland , @ashhlsstuff , @devotedlypaleluminary , @sagexsenorita , @serenadingtigers , @yourgirlcin , @henrywintersgun , @jadagirl15 , @misshoneypaper , @lunnaisjustvibing , @enchantingchildkitten , @senhoritamayblog , @isla-finke-blog , @mojaveghst , @millercontracting , @tinawantstobeadoll , @funerals-with-cake , @txlady37 , @inasunlitroom , @clya4 , @callmebyyournick-name , @axshadows , @littlemissoblivious - thank you!! awwwww we're like a little family <3

And to those in the reblogs: thank you all so much, and I'd love to keep hearing more!!

@darknight3904 , @guiltyasdave , @letsgobarbs , @helskemes , @jodiswiftle , @tinawantstobeadoll , @bergamote-catsandbooks , @cheekychaos28 , @randofantfic , @justagalwhowrites , @emerald-evans , @amyispxnk , @corazondebeskar-reads , @wildemaven , @tuquoquebrute , @elli3williams , @bluemusickid }

#amyispxnk fave fics #amy's fave fic award 🐱#ONE OF THE MOST FAVES.

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basketobread · 10 months ago

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my dumb fuck ass just spent 30 minutes trying to find Save Us White Girl and caved and "help white girl bg3" immediately returned it via google,,,,, had help white girl, white girl help stuck in my head,,,,,

THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO MUCH TBH I CANNOT BELIEVE IT CAN IMMEDIATELY BE FOUND LIKE THAT???? everyday this comic finds its way back to me and i'm unsure if i'll ever be able to outdo it... it might be my magnum opus, i fear... (this is a good thing)

#though in all honesty its one of my favorite comics ive done LOL #ALSO IM SORRY THIS IS SUCH A LATE RESPONSE </3 #i swear i read all the anons i get and i love each and every one of them THANK YOU FOR SENDING IN ASKS #THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY <3333 #im just super slow and dont use my socials as much as id like to IM SORRYYYYYYY #but again this made me laugh thank you sm for sharing anon #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #ask bob

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buttercupshands · 4 months ago

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Halloween Siffrin!! A vampire one too!!

My mind started thinking about isat while listening to hi3 7.0 trailer and so this idea stuck until I was home

Timelapse under the cut

I was struggling to choose if I'll add music or not, but too tired to re-edit you get the music version, it's ISAT OST music by Studio Thumpy Puppy Floor 2 to be specific

#fanart #my art #artists on tumblr #isat siffrin #isat #isat fanart #in stars and time #And WOW it's not a spoilery sketch!#For the first time ever #i love this one sm #I keep thinking about witch Mira and Frankenstein monster Isabeau #And a ghost Loop of course they're next on the list with Isa #Still figuring out Odile #Siffrin having a mostly black outfit was funny to draw for a change #Maybe I'll start drawing them in their usual clothes underneath the cloak too #also #STAR CAPE STAR CAPE I got hyped when I understood THAT I FINALLY GOT A REASON TO DRAW THEM IN SOMETHING STARRY #Well more of an excuse #I'm bad at designing so this one looking good enough for me then it's fine on a medium or bad level #But STARRY CAPE #Also an eyepatch with a constant wink #halloween #happy october #Little fact - you can see me choosing between making Siffrin eye look like canon Siffrin or straight up just like Loop eye for a split sec #It's the first time I colored Siffrin fully too looking at the refs carefully and so on #timelapse #tw flickering #For the timelapse! There are some moments like that better not risk it!#with id

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amyispxnk · 2 days ago

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OH MY GOSHH THE WAY THIS FIC IS ALWAYS THE PERFECT BALANCE OF SWEETNESS SMUT AND ANGST I LOVE IT AND THEM AND YOU SFM

You’re standing at the stove, flipping pancakes while sipping a mug full of coffee. You’re wearing the same bright, striped robe he gave you a couple of years ago. He loves watching you exist, doing something as mundane as flipping pancakes. It almost feels like he’s been transported back to your home, standing in your kitchen.

You’ve always been the one for him, and when you look over, mouth full of toast, and ask “Paddington 2 next?” He wants to do this with you forever.

literally so cute

“Wow,” you exhale, your eyes wide. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy.”

His heart thuds against his chest, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do since that first night you called him heartbroken and alone in your home. He wanted to make you smile, make you laugh, help you heal.

CRYINGGG AGHH HE HEALED HER AND SHE HEALED HIM OMG

He can also feel the mushrooms starting to take effect, making everything feel dreamy and surreal. He lets himself get lost in it, blinking slowly as the lights of London blur and swirl outside the pod, but you—his Golden Girl—stays in focus.

The way he loves her sm

“You’re perfect,” he pants, unable to look away from your eyes. He can see a future with you in them. Happiness, love, acceptance.

Bawling sm

“And not just this year, through everything you’re still just as radiant and… golden.”

THE GOLDEN METAPHORS AND SHIT MAKES MY HEART MELT

You’re all he’s ever wanted, and now he has you…

Crying. The way they were meant for eachother and healed eachother

...Your eyes are swollen and red, your head is pounding, you feel your heart breaking with each minute that passes. So this is what it feels like to really be in love.

The entire ending made me BAWL. WTF.

also the ending. "Fuck warren!" We all scream in unison ngl

It's Golden

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Your week in London with Dieter comes to an end. A new year brings a revelation. Warnings: pov switching, warren's a pos, pining, fluff, comfort, dieter bravo is good at being romantic, unprotected p in v sex, oral (f&m receiving), balcony sex, shower sex, london eye sex (please throw out all reality about the london eye), waking up to oral sex, ordering room service with dieter between your legs, ass slapping, risque photos, psychedelic mushrooms, marijuana, alcohol, special guest star paddington bear, long distance relationship airport flashbacks for your author, i am sorry about the ending Words: 8,500

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you to everyone who reads this... Dee & Sweets started as a singular fic... and then the character's planted in my head and heart and refused to leave. This chapter's a big one. I hope you enjoy. ✨💞 Thank you to @devineconjuring and @schnarfer for their Google Docs perusing.

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist ✨✨✨

December 29

Dieter wakes up, reaching his arm out for your body, but finds only cool sheets. He blinks away the remnants of sleep turning over to find your side of the bed empty.

With a sigh, he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand. As he unlocks it, a flurry of notifications pop up. At the top, a message from Alex. An outline, detailed and thorough, listing everything he needs to do now that the photos have been taken care of. There’s a lot there… but he’d do triple the work if it meant it’d keep you safe.

He can hear the faint sounds of a random cast of British people on TV. He gets out of bed excited to tell you the good news.

He slides his arms in his robe before tying it loosely as he pads out of the bedroom. The living room is empty, the TV playing Paddington softly to itself. Of course you’d choose Paddington. He hears a slight clattering down the hallway as he gets his first smell of coffee.

He hears you softly humming to yourself as he approaches the kitchen. He pauses at the doorway when he sees you.

"You brought my robe?”

You startle slightly when he speaks.

“Morning," you turn, lifting your mug up and smiling in greeting. “I did.”

He strides over. Placing his hand on your shoulder to turn you. His eyebrows rise at the sight in front of him. The robe is tied loosely, your chest almost fully exposed to him, his mouth already begins to water. “Damn, it looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile before turning back to flip another pancake.

He steps closer, his chest pressing against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Pancakes, huh?”

“I know they’re one of your favorites and I-I wanted to thank you for what you did last night.”

“It was nothing. Alex also let me know he’s called off the proverbial hounds.”

"Really? How did you manage that?"

"I have my ways. Let's just say I'll be doing a lot more press in the coming months."

You turn in his arms, eyes wide with surprise. “You didn’t have to do that… honestly.”

"Hey, it's worth it. You're worth it.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out appreciatively.

He presses his lips against you, his hands sliding down to your waist, pushing you against the countertop. The spatula clatters to the floor when you wrap your arms around his neck.

The two of you get lost in the kiss, your lips, tongues, hands, and moans trying to tell each other all the words and feelings left unsaid… until you smell burnt pancakes.

“Shit!” you exclaim, pushing him away before moving the pan off the stove.

You shake your head with a smile as you scrape the charred remains of the pancake into the trash. “Get out of here before we have to order room service.”

He constantly feels like he’s dreaming whenever he’s around you, especially right now. You’re sitting cross legged on the couch happily eating a piece of marmalade topped toast while watching Paddington. He’s already devoured three pancakes. You even remembered exactly how he likes them: covered in honey, hot sauce, and bacon.

It’s like you’ve always been here in London with him, slotted into his life. You’ve taken this temporary hotel suite and made it into a home.

You’ve always been the one for him, and when you look over, mouth full of toast, and ask “Paddington 2 next?” He wants to do this with you forever.

—-

"If you're kind and polite, the world will be right."

Dieter chuckles a low, happy sound when he sees you’re wiping tears from your eyes as the credits of Paddington 2 begin to roll.

“What do you want to do today now that you’re all cried out from Paddington?” he teases.

You grab a throw pillow, bonking it against his head. “Shut up.”

He laughs, catching the pillow and tossing it aside. “Did you want to go see Paddington at Paddington Station? We’ll get some marmalade sandwiches, maybe see if we can spot a small Peruvian bear,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, so my not so subtle hints worked, right?”

He shakes his head, offering you his hand as he rises. “Come on Sweets, get your rain boots out.”

“They’re called wellies here!”

—-

How can you take such a menial task and make it so sexy?

You’re squeezing the remnants of your travel size shampoo out of the bottle, frowning as nothing spurts out. He doesn’t know why he can feel the rush of blood to his dick. Oh yeah, it’s because you’re all wet and naked in front of him, your breasts jiggling as you shake the bottle.

He finds himself sudsing up his cock with much more vigor than normal. His length not so subtly growing hard against his palms. You’re massaging shampoo into your scalp when you look over at him, realizing what he’s doing.

You reach over with a smile, wrapping your hand around his, guiding it up and down his shaft. His deep, long groan echoes off the marble when you brush your thumb against his sensitive tip.

His chest meets your back when you turn, his hands move to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he rubs his cock against your slippery, wet ass.

Bracing your hands against the tiled wall, you bend over slightly. He runs his hand down your back and over the curve of your ass. Water cascades down your skin, he can’t resist himself, you look so fucking good, he leaves a light slap against your ass.

“Oh!” you shout followed by a long moan and a tempting giggle. His legs turn to jelly when you breathe out a low “again.”

He complies, this time teasing you with a couple false starts before SMACK, he leaves an open palmed sting against your skin.

You moan again and spread your legs wide for him, arching your back and presenting your pussy to him.

You glance over your shoulder. “Fuck me Dieter, give me your cock.”

You’ve never talked dirty to him, he’s thought about how you’d sound for years… so much so, he would dread it if he heard you utter the word fuck, because in his fantasies, you were constantly telling him to fuck you.

He grips your slippery hips as he lines himself up to your eager pussy that’s waiting for him. Lazily, your hips sway back and forth, brushing the tip of his cock against your cunt.

You glance at him again, a look of determination on your beautiful face. “I said, fuck me Dee,” you command.

That’s enough for him, he enters you quick and hard, your elbows and knees bending at the impact. His cock bottoming out in your wet, tight cunt as you scream his name.

He drives into you hard and fast, his hands perched against your shoulders, hips snapping against your ass.

“Yessss,” you hiss.

He knew you’d be the best he’s ever had, but he never knew just how good you’d feel every time, how sweet your moans would sound reverberating off the tile, how mesmerized he’d be by the way the water splashes as he fucks into you.

His suite is one of the largest and highest floored at this super luxury hotel, but he’s pretty sure that even the lobby can hear the noises you’re making right now.

He watches your orgasm spread through your body. Your hands trying to grip the wall, your head thrown back, mouth open wide, spitting water out as you coo and gasp for him. You’re absolutely gripping his cock, the pulses of it and your vibrating body sending him over the edge.

“Fuuuuuck,” he swears, pulling his cock out and shooting his load all over your back and ass, pumping himself as the water washes away his cum. You’re trembling, barely able to keep yourself up. He grabs you, kissing your soaked skin and whispering how good you took his cock as you smile up at him with a sweet, satisfied smile. Okay, now he’s sure he is dreaming.

—-

You’ve been to London a few times with Warren, but he always found the idea of going somewhere to see a statue of a “cartoon” ridiculous. You always knew Dieter would understand your joy with zero judgment.

You weave around the travelers and tourists, until you see him. The Paddington Bear. You pull Dieter towards the bronze statue, “Oh my god! It’s him!”

You can’t contain your excitement, a wide grin spreads across your face as you sit down on the bronze suitcase and mimic Paddington’s seated position.

Dieter takes a few photos of you with your beloved bear, his shoulders slightly shaking as he chuckles to himself.

“Come here!” you insist, reaching your hand out to him.

He leans down, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both squeeze in next to Paddington. He holds up his phone, angling it to get all three of you in the shot. You turn just as he takes the first picture, planting a kiss on his cheek.

You don’t care if someone in the crowd might see you, Dieter’s gone above and beyond to prove that he’ll protect you, more than anybody ever has.

Later that night, you can’t stop staring at the photos of you and Dieter with Paddington, it’s hard to deny that you look like two people in love.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 30

Dieter’s refused to tell you where you’re headed since you left the hotel. Your mind races with ideas until… the car pulls up to the entrance of the London Eye.

“Surprise Sweets,” he says, opening the door.

“Oh my god. We’re going on the Eye?” you ask, sliding across the leather and getting out of the warmth of the car. Your head tilted to take in the large ferris wheel.

He nods. “Not just that. Come on.”

An attendant greets Dieter by name and ushers you two past the waiting crowd. There’s a twinge of guilt as you bypass the line, you really have to get used to the life of a celebrity.

The attendant leads you to a private capsule, holding the door open as you step inside. The door seals, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in the pod.

A bottle of champagne sits on ice with two flutes, a large fuzzy blanket topped with pillows is spread across the floor, along with an assortment of flickering fake candles. But what really catches your eyes is the fancy tray filled with slices of cheddar cheese and crackers. Tears spring in your eyes, quickly falling when you close them in laughter. “Oh my god, you got me cheese and crackers. My favorite!”

“Of course I did,” he responds a wide smile matching yours.

The capsule begins its slow ascent. You turn to Dieter, your eyes shining with happiness. "This is incredible.”

“We have it for the rest of the night. You deserve it. All of it.”

He settles on the blanket and pops the champagne pouring two glasses. You join, snuggling close to him as he drapes an arm around you.

“Cheers,” he says, clinking his glass against yours.

“Cheers,” you smile as you watch Dieter reach for the tray and build you a cheese and cracker sandwich. He smiles as he holds it up to your lips with a lopsided grin. You feel like you’re in a fantasy, like one of those stories Dieter’s fans write about him when you take a bite and savor the buttery cracker and smooth, sharp cheddar.

“Big Ben looks so cool up here,” you exclaim, as your pod ascends higher.

“It’s about to look cooler baby,” Dieter whispers against your ear as he pulls out a baggie full of dried mushrooms.

“Oh my god, I haven’t done shrooms since your birthday party a few years ago.”

“Mm,” he hums as he pulls out a small piece for you and puts it on a cheese topped cracker. “Here, drink some champagne to chase it, they’re not that great tasting.”

You do as he says, grimacing at the musty taste before gulping down a whole glass of champagne, welcoming the tingly bubbles. “This is ridiculous.”

Dieter takes a handful of shrooms and stuffs them into his mouth, happily chewing before winking at you. “You love it,” he says, pulling you close and wrapping the blanket tighter around you.

You really do.

—-

The pod sits atop the eye. You’re leaning forward looking out amongst the sparkling lights of London. “I feel like Peter Pan,” you muse, your warm breath hitting against the chilly glass.

He leans in close. “They say if you kiss someone at the top of the London Eye, you'll be together forever."

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” he hums, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Want to test that?”

You nod before you seal your mouth over his and kiss him. The pod gently descends as you both explore each other’s mouths, soft groans and whimpers, hands exploring each other’s body.

You pull away, sighing when you see the station come into view. “Oh my god. We’re already going down. It’s almost over.”

“No, it’s not baby,” he responds, kissing his way to your ear. “You forget, I have connections, we have this pod all night.”

“Ooooh, connections,” you mock.

He chuckles, shaking his head before he lifts you to sit on his lap, your back settling against his warm chest. He begins to tickle the spots on your sides, you’re kicking and laughing, as you squirm.

"Stop, stop!" you gasp, but he doesn't listen.

"Make me," he teases.

You twist in his lap, facing him before capturing his lips. His hands still immediately, moving to grip your waist instead. You smile against his mouth before pulling away beaming with a bright grin.

“Wow,” you exhale, your eyes wide. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy.”

“No Sweets, those are the shrooms.”

“No Dee, well, wait—yeah, but also you’ve made me so happy this week.”

“I’m glad baby, so glad.”

Your skin is glittering in the soft light, your hair shimmering. He reaches out to touch a strand, amazed at how silky it feels. You mimic him, reaching out to comb your fingers through the waves of his hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” you admire dreamily. “Like a cloud.”

He chuckles, his eyes still closed, patterns whirling around his eyelids. “A cloud, huh?”

You giggle a light, airy sound. “Everything feels so light and… floaty."

He opens his eyes to see you staring at him. His sense of touch heightened as he slides his hand under your shirt, moving it higher to cup your breast over your bra, his cock hardening as you begin to grind against his lap. Suddenly, you pull away, cutting through the lust and psychedelic riddled haze. “Aren’t there cameras?”

He smiles reassuringly. “Not if you’re famous enough,” he says. “Remember baby, connections. But we still gotta be careful.”

Your eyes widen as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. It takes you zero time for you to shift in his lap, your fingers untying the drawstrings of his pants.

He pushes your skirt up, bunching it around your waist when he groans a low, appreciative noise as his fingers brush against your pussy, feeling how wet you are through your panties.

“Dee,” you sigh, rocking against his hand.

“I know, I know.”

He lifts you, hovering your soaked cunt over his hard cock. You stare, reaching down to pull your panties to the side, your dilated pupils turning into hypnotic spirals as you sink down onto his length, both of you groaning in unison. The feeling is indescribable - you wrap around him like your pussy was made for him, your body fusing with his.

You begin to move, rocking your hips slowly at first, his hands grip your skin, guiding you, moving you in a steady rhythm.

“You’re perfect,” he pants, unable to look away from your eyes. He can see a future with you in them. Happiness, love, acceptance.

The world outside the pod seems to fade away, it’s just him and you. Your pussy perfectly moving on top of him, your hands planted on his chest as you gently bounce.

Gravity disappears, clouds surround your bodies, the dark night sky twinkles in the distance, stars sparking and bursting. You are the center of his universe, your skin even more golden and radiant. Shining, glowing, glimmering all for him.

You’re panting, swirling your hips around his base as you grind. He rocks his hips up, matching your dripping cunt as he begins to pound into you.

He leans back on his palms, watching as you take him, your hips rolling, your tight pussy squeezing him as you chase your release.

“Fuuuuuck,” you cry, throwing your head back, lost in your pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he grunts, feeling the familiar pulse of your pussy.

With a ringing cry, your orgasm beams through you. You’re lit from within, your skin shining metallic gold as you clench around his cock, squeezing him impossibly hard, your velvet fluttering pulling him closer into your orbit.

He is in awe of you, in love with you, and gasping your name as he cums. You’re shivering and smiling as he fills you, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you.

You giggle and nuzzle into his neck. “That was…”

“Fucking amazing,” he finishes, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

He holds you, feeling happier than he’s ever felt. He has to tell you he loves you, but sober. Damn the shrooms.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 31

The world outside the hotel suite is abuzz as London prepares to celebrate. Dieter doesn’t remember most New Year's midnight countdowns if he’s telling the truth.

Though he does remember one quite vividly. You and Warren hosted a NYE party shortly after you bought your house. You were the perfect host, floating around like June Cleaver, refilling drinks, laughing, and galavanting with friends. You were so happy, so hopeful. And when midnight came and Warren wrapped you in his arms and gave you a kiss, well, Dieter couldn’t look away. He’s a masochist like that sometimes.

Sure, he chastely kissed his date, before quickly pulling away just so he could watch the happy newlyweds cocooned in love’s warmth at midnight. It was so long ago, and now—now you��re here with him, cocooned under a blanket and nestled up next to him on the balcony. He can hardly believe his luck.

“Wow, it’s almost midnight,” you muse. “What a year, huh?”

He turns to you, the lights of the city reflect in your eyes “You know, I’m proud of you,” he starts. “After everything… you amaze me.”

He watches you swallow past the lump in your throat as you gently nod.

“And not just this year, through everything you’re still just as radiant and… golden.”

"Dee," you whisper. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands. "I think you’re the reason. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

The distant sounds of revelers in the streets below begin counting down the final seconds of the year.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Dieter pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

His heart is racing, years of longing and unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface.

"Four! Three! Two!"

“I love you,” he breathes out, just as the crowd below shouts “One!”

Fireworks explode in the sky, but he barely notices as you pull away, your eyes gazing into his, a smile lighting your face. “I love you too.”

“Yeah?”

You kiss him. “Yeah.”

“Amazing.”

He pulls you into his lap as you both watch the fireworks from the privacy of his balcony.

You light up a joint, his heart beats against his chest as he watches the orange glow of the lighter and the bright flashes of fireworks shine across your skin. “Okay, am I dreaming?”

You chuckle. “No, we’re here… and I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, I thought Christmas was good. New Years is way better.”

“Mm,” you hum. “Let’s make it better.”

You turn in his hold, straddling him. He’s already hard for you when you give him a tempting smile and open his robe.

“Dee?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to feel you inside me when you tell me you love me.”

He shivers at your words. His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your robe open.

"God, you're perfect," he breathes.

You rise up on your knees, positioning yourself over him before you slowly sink down onto him.

His whole body tenses before relaxing as your tight pussy surrounds him.

The fireworks continue to explode in the sky, the lights flashing across your skin as you begin to move. Your eyes, filled with awe and love, are locked on him.

He’s sure he’s uttered the words I love you to someone while fucking them before. Hell, he’s pretty sure under the drug and drink haze with Anika, he told her it a few times… but he knows he never truly felt it like this. But with you, now here, on top of him, your skin glowing against the backdrop of stars in the sky and random bursts of fireworks, he knows now this is making love.

"I love you," he whispers, gazing into your eyes. "God, I love you so much."

"I love you too.”

Your hips roll against his. Your mouth finds his. You’re moaning into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair.

You make love slowly, tenderly. There's no rush, no urgency - just the two of you connecting. Your lips never leaving the others.

He worships you, his Golden Girl.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

January 1

Dieter slowly stirs from sleep, his mind hazy, either from the leftover champagne and weed in his system or dreams. There’s something warm and tingly between his legs, a wet slurping noise alerts him and he blinks his eyes open. He looks down to see your head bobbing gently under the covers.

Your tongue swirls around the tip of his hardening cock before you take him deeper into your mouth as you massage his balls.

“Holy fuck sweets,” he gasps, throwing the blankets off his body. He almost cums when you’re revealed, your wide eyes looking up at him, his cock stuffed into your mouth.

“Happy New Year,” you purr before licking a trail down the thick vein along his cock. His head falls back against the pillow, a low groan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He feels the vibration of your sweet giggle against his cock before you murmur “I love you too” against him.

“Come here baby, come here,” he says, reaching and pulling you up his body. He kisses you, his tongue licking at yours.

He can feel the heat of you as you straddle him, his cock aches to feel the slick he knows you’re leaking out for him.

His hand snakes down to grip himself and rub against your wet cunt, you moan against his mouth as he teases you, sliding his cock through your slick folds. You’re whimpering against him, rocking your hips to try to take him inside.

He sucks on your tongue, just as he notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You both moan before you both stay still, relishing in the feel of each other.

He’ll never tire of how it feels to have you this way.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you begin to move, rolling your hips in a slow rhythm before you sit up. He looks down, watching his cock disappear into you as you lift yourself up and sink back down on him. You stare at him as you reach for his hand, bringing a finger to your mouth and sucking it.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, sitting up and pushing his broad chest against yours, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you deeply, as you melt into the heat of his body.

He’s buried deep inside you, neither of you moving. He stays like that, savoring the feel of his cock enveloped in the heat of you, pulsing within your tight, wet pussy.

He runs his hands across the plains of your back, tracing the curve of your spine as his tongue tangles with yours.

You card your fingers through his messy hair, tugging gently.

He holds you tight as he begins moving inside you, groaning against your mouth, he’s so drunk off your pussy he feels like the room around him is swirling, his mouth drooling. He’ll never get enough of touching you, feeling every dip and curve of the body he’s craved for years.

You break the kiss, throwing your head back after he thrusts deep into you. He takes the opportunity to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nipping.

“God damn baby,” he whispers against your collarbone. He can feel you getting close, you’re clenching him, your ragged breaths panting into the air.

He licks his way up to your neck, his tongue tracing and swirling around the rapid pulse there. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as you grind against him. You’re so close, you’re trembling in his arms, your sweet pussy fluttering with need.

He grips your hips, guiding you to ride him faster, to take him for everything he has.

“Oh god, Dee,” you gasp.

“I love you,” he rasps.

“I love you too,” you whimper.

He almost cums right there, but he makes himself hold back and not give in, determined to make you fall apart first.

“Fuuuuck,” he drawls. “Let me feel your pussy cum for me baby,”

That’s your undoing, he feels you tighten around him, your walls squeezing him as you orgasm.

“Oh god,” you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He holds you tight, feeling every quiver and pulse of your body as you tense all over and release.

He doesn’t let up his pace, thrusting into your soaked cunt, letting your ride out your high before you collapse against him, your lips pressed against his shoulder.

“I love you,” you whisper, lifting your head, your eyes hazy and soft, with a dreamy smile on your lips.

That does it for him. He grips you tightly, pulling you down onto him as he thrusts up hard, his cock pumping inside you. “Oh fuck, I love you,” he groans, filling you with his cum.

Dieter falls back onto the soft mattress, carrying you with him. He’s still inside you, relishing in the warmth. He can feel the beat of your heart against his own.

You lift your head, he reaches up, gently cupping your face, rubbing his thumb across your skin. “You’re so beautiful. My golden girl.”

—-

Peace. That’s the overwhelming emotion you feel as Dieter’s chest is pressed firm against your back as the two of you watch Simpsons reruns in the giant hotel bed. The setting sun is shining in through the windows, though you have no idea what time it is. All sense of it lost by being wrapped in Dieter’s arms all day.

The room service cart that sits just outside the bedroom door is piled high with dirty dishes. Today has been perfect, indulging in only each other.

Your hands lightly pet the dark hair of his forearms wrapped tightly around you, and when you lightly graze your nails across his skin he lets out a slight groan into your ear. The sound goes straight to your core.

You stretch languidly, loosening your muscles soar from the hours spent in bed kissing, fucking, and laughing. You push your ass against Dieter firmer, wiggling it slightly.

“Baby,” he lowly whispers. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Burn me baby,” you giggle.

He flips you over, and climbs over you. “That was so fucking cheesy,” he says against your lips before kissing them. “I love it.”

He trails kisses down your neck, peppering them across your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts. His wide brown eyes staring into yours as his tongue darts out to swirl around your nipple before he takes it into his mouth.

He continues his journey downward, his plush lips ghosting over your ribs, your stomach, your hip bone. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to lift his head to look at you. His eyes meet yours, questioning.

"No, really," you breathe. "Burn me. Make me feel you."

His eyes widen slightly before he nods.

He knows what you mean, tomorrow you leave. Today, time doesn’t exist. Today is only you and him, in this bedroom luxuriating in only each other. But tomorrow, you get on a plane, going home to only silence and yourself.

He grasps your thighs, spreading them wide, and stares down at you, his hand gripping his cock as he pumps himself until he’s standing tall and proud for you. He lifts your legs over his broad shoulders and slaps his cock against your cunt before he buries himself to the hilt in you.

You cry out high and needy, as he grunts low and satisfied. He waits for a breath, stretching you, letting you adjust before he pulls back and slams into you again. He makes it burn, his hips snapping against yours.

You can’t stop staring at how beautiful he is as he pounds into you, his face set in concentration, jaw clenched tight and nostrils flaring.

Your hands roam over your slick, sweaty skin, your nails raking across your breasts, pulling and pinching as he fucks you.

"Fuck, you always feel so fuckin’-ahh-good,” he groans as he pulls out and then thrusts back in.

He leans heavily against you, your knees meeting your chest as he folds you in half, the weight of him crushing you deliciously.

“Harder,” you plead.

He growls low in his throat, burying his face in your neck. Rough, deep thrusts pound against your cunt.

The flames in your core grow warmer, spreading across your body, but just as you feel the familiar flames lick across your skin, Dieter pulls out of you. You whimper at the loss, but before you can even say anything, he rolls you onto your side and lays down behind you. His slick chest meeting your slick back.

His cock nudges between your thighs. "Lift your leg for me, baby.”

You muster the strength and comply, draping your leg over his hip. He reaches down, guiding himself back into your wet cunt.

His arm snakes under you, wrapping around your chest to cup your breast. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he begins to move. Slow, deep thrusts that have you gasping and arching back against him.

"That's it," he breathes, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

The angle reignites the flames as they spread across your body. You turn your head, seeking his mouth with yours. He meets you, his lips firm as you gasp into his mouth.

He holds you tight, grinding against you before thrusting deep.

His hand slides down from your hip, dipping between your legs. His thick finger rubs your clit, making you gasp and cry. You’re writhing in Dieter’s hold, so close to your release, pulse beating, fire roaring. Your tongues and moans tangle as your orgasm consumes you. Your hands fist in the sheets, tears prick at your eyes as you let the blaze overtake you.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, against your lips. “You’re squeezing me so tight baby.”

“Fuck me," you muster out, leaning forward and pressing his cock deeper inside.

Your cunt is still quivering around him as he slides his cock out and back in. He grips your hips, lifting a leg up on the bed to gain better leverage. Each stroke sends an aftershock through your body.

“I love this pussy,” he pants as he fucks into you harder and faster, chasing his release.

You whimper in response, overwhelmed by him as his movements become frenzied, his hips snapping against you with desperate urgency. He feels so tense behind you, the sound of his wet body slapping against your wet body sounds so depraved and so perfect.

"Oh god, baby," he moans. "I'm gonna cum. Fuck, you feel so good."

“Please,” you whimper, reaching back to wrap a hand into his hair and pull tight.

He lets out a loud, long groan of your name when he cums. His sharp nose pressed against your neck, his lips against your shoulder, tasting the salty sweetness of your skin.

The flames still sit within you, lit by Dieter’s love and the feel of his cock softly throbbing inside you.

—-

He can’t sleep, and you can’t either. The end hour is rapidly approaching. He spends the night watching you exist next to him. The way your face looks in the low light of the TV, the sound of your laughter when you giggle at one of Homer’s antics, the feel of your body against his. Fuck, he’s going to miss you so much.

Twenty more days, twenty more days. You can do this.

For years, he’s felt like a fuck up, just some random guy with a cool name who stumbled into being famous. Sure, he’s a good actor… he supposes. He's been called a lot of things over the years - heartthrob, bad boy, party animal, has-been. But with you, he was always just Dee… and now he knows he’s so much more to you.

Since that day you called him, heartbroken and alone, because Warren wasted the most precious thing… everything has shifted. The constant restlessness that used to plague him has settled. The nagging emptiness that drove him to seek oblivion in willing partners, drugs and alcohol has been filled.

You’re all he’s ever wanted, and now he has you… at least until you catch your flight in fifteen hours.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

January 2

You dream of Dieter, a familiar dream you’ve had for years before. The sight of his fluffy hair between your legs, the feel of his tongue against your pussy. But this time it feels different, it feels… real.

Your core is wet with need, a heavy weight settled between your legs. A long moan escapes your lips when you feel a thick tongue against your cunt.

Your eyes flutter open, blinking the sleep away from them. When you look down, you’re greeted by the most beautiful sight - Dieter’s mess of waves nestled between your thighs.

You must still be dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time your subconscious has conjured up this scenario. Usually you just roll over and try to go back to bed or get up and take a shower, but this time the wet slide of Dieter’s tongue tells you this is real.

“Dee,” you breathe out, reaching down to hold his hands as they grip your thighs.

He groans against your pussy, slightly lifting his head to leave a kiss against your thigh.

“Good morning Sweets,” he smiles before diving back in and leaving a slow circle traced against your clit.

You’re soaked for him, your hips bucking as one of your fantasies becomes your reality.

He seals his mouth over your clit, sucking it sweetly between his lips. A high pitched-moan escapes you as he licks his way down to your entrance, diving his tongue in, lapping up your slick.

He gets you nice and wet, before he slides his two thick fingers in, slowly pumping inside you, twisting them deliciously around your entrance. Your head thuds back on the pillow, a high pitched keen of his name echoing in the room.

He licks you right to the edge of your early morning orgasm, thighs trembling, chest heaving, your hands grabbing at the soft tendrils of his hair. He angles his fingers just right, causing your body to tighten and slacken as a shockwave of bliss flows through you. You’re quivering for him as you gasp for air, Dieter’s tongue between your legs awakening you in the best possible way.

“That’s it baby,” he encourages, his warm breath against your heated skin.

Dieter doesn’t stop, he eases you through your orgasm before he builds you up all over again, this time pushing a third finger into your tight channel. He watches you under hooded eyes as he licks and sucks against your clit, thrusting his thick fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Your heart is pounding against your chest as you stare wide eyed at him happily devouring you.

You’re writhing on the sheets, your hands fisting the soft fabric as he hums against you, the vibrations bringing your second orgasm crashing into you quick and intense. He plants a hand on your stomach, sealing you down to the bed, his tongue and fingers overwhelming you as warmth spreads through your limbs.

"Dee, oh god," you pant as you catch your breath, his plush lips leaving wet kisses along your inner thighs, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin.

Your heart rate begins to slow, your limbs stretching out and relaxing… just as Dieter dives back in, his tongue parting your folds.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

He pulls away, a wicked grin lifting his beautiful mouth. “Grab the phone. Order us some breakfast.”

Your hand fumbles for the hotel phone on the nightstand, nearly knocking it over when he rapidly dashes his tongue against your swollen clit. You manage to press the button for room service, trying to keep your voice steady as Dieter eats your pussy.

“G-good morning,” you stammer. “I’d like to order some breakfast-nyugh-please.”

Dieter’s tongue circles your clit, making you bite back a moan.

"Two omelettes please," you continue, your voice slightly strained. "One with mushrooms and cheese, the other with - oh!"

Dieter chooses that moment to suck hard on your clit, nearly making you drop the phone.

"The other with ham and peppers," you finish quickly.

“Mimosas,” Dieter says against your pussy, refusing to pull away before he licks a firm, slow lick against your clit.

"And… two… mimosas pleeease,” you add when his tongue swirls around your clit. Your free hand gripping Dieter’s hair.

You barely manage to confirm the order and hang up before Dieter’s crawling up your body.

“How long?” he asks, nuzzling his sharp nose into your neck.

“They said about fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect,” he grits as he sheathes himself inside you.

—-

The moment you’ve been dreading arrives. Packing your suitcase. Dieter sits on the bed, attempting to fold a pile of clothes for you.

He lets out a sad sigh every time he places a terribly folded garment next to him.

He fumbles with the soft fabric of one of your sweaters, his rings clattering against one another as he creates more wrinkles.

"Here, let me show you," you say gently, taking the sweater from him. You demonstrate how to fold it neatly. Dieter watches intently, his eyes following your hands.

"Like this?" he asks, picking up another sweater and mimicking your technique.

You laugh at this terrible attempt.

“No,” you say, taking the sweater from him and kissing his cheek. "How about you just watch me?”

“Oh thank god, I fuckin’ hate folding.”

“I can tell.”

You continue packing in comfortable silence, each item placed in your suitcase makes your heart sink lower.

As you carefully place the charm bracelet Dieter gave you in your jewelry case, he clears his throat.

"So, um, what are your plans when you get back?" he asks.

You pause, your hand lingering on the charm bracelet, your finger tracing the shape of it. .

"I'm not sure," you admit softly. “I think I want to look into maybe getting a job at a flower shop. I was thinking, now that I’ll no longer have, uh, Warren’s help. I need to figure something out.”

There’s a bit of shame to your voice. You gave Warren the prime years of your life, and you allowed him to take them for his gain.

“That’s good baby, you have such a talent. What about your own shop?”

You bark out a loud laugh. “I don’t even know how I’m going to afford my fucking house, Dee. You’re already doing more than I could ever ask for, helping me with the lawyer.”

His eyes round in guilt and you instantly feel foolish, you both already have enough to deal with today, as the trip to Heathrow looms over the hotel suite.

You shut your jewelry box, placing it in your suitcase before walking over to him and sitting in his lap. “Don’t worry Dee, I’ll figure it out.”

“With my help.”

“With some of your help.”

His arms wrap around you tighter and you want to ask him about his plans, about what happens next for the two of you, but you're afraid to burst this bubble you've been living in.

"Back to filming tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "It'll be… so different without you here."

“God, I’m going to mi—”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “I know,” he whispers. “Me too.”

You cling to him, breathing in his scent—weed, coffee, and eucalyptus—trying to memorize the feel of his arms around you.

“Twenty days,” he whispers.

—-

Heathrow comes into view and he wills the car to miss the turn to departures. It doesn’t work. Soft sniffles and little gasps escape your mouth, he knows tears are already in your eyes, as hard as you try to hide them behind your sunglasses.

The car pulls up to the curb. No. It can’t be the end, but when the driver opens the door and the sharp, bitter cold breeze of the night hits him, his heart sinks as he realizes this is it.

He slides across the leather, feeling each reluctant movement of his body as he gets out.

He grabs your hand to help you out, his jaw drops when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks.

He pulls you in for a hug. “You can always stay,” he whispers in your ear.

“I know, but I-I can’t. I need to… figure things out back home,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest. “Continue getting my life in order.”

He nods, understanding but hating it all the same. He knows you now have your freedom, regained your independence and he never wants to be the one to hold you back.

“Twenty days,” you remind him softly.

“And then I’ll be back in LA and I’ll be there to help you figure it all out. Together.”

“Together,” you nod, managing a small smile.

He leans in, kissing you tenderly as you wrap your arms around him, clinging to him, knowing it’s the last time for nearly three weeks.

"I love you," he whispers. "So fucking much."

"I love you too."

He wraps his brown fuzzy coat tighter around you and leaves a soft kiss against your forehead before you pull away with great reluctance.

He watches you walk away from him, the chill of London rasps against his skin, while the emptiness of his heart makes him ache all over. He wouldn’t trade this pain for anything in the world.

—-

When Dieter first booked your ticket, you scoffed at the idea of first class, relenting over and over that you didn’t need any special care… but now as you’re settled in your own small pod with a couple walls that give you a sense of privacy, you’re very thankful for his generosity. Your eyes are swollen and red, your head is pounding, you feel your heart breaking with each minute that passes. So this is what it feels like to really be in love.

The flight attendant comes by, offering you a glass of champagne. You accept it gratefully, hoping it might help dull the ache in your chest.

You can’t help yourself when you pull your phone out, scrolling through the photos from your time in London.

Dieter and you grinning widely next to Paddington Bear. The two of you bundled up on the London Eye, the lights of the city twinkling behind you. Dieter’s dopey smile in the Harrod’s dressing room holding up the ripped pair of panties. A selfie in bed, your hair messy, faces glowing in a post-sex haze, his hand resting on your breast.

You're smiling through your tears as you swipe through the photos, reliving each moment. The last one makes your heart ache - a selfie Dieter took of you sleeping, his arm wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin. You look so peaceful, so content. For years, you lied to yourself that you had that feeling of love, warmth, and protection. You feel like the ache in your chest is going to swallow you whole as you realize just how much you already miss him.

Dieter just gave you the most magical ten days of your life.

—-

He avoids making his way back up to the hotel room. He sits in the bar, slowly sipping a glass of whiskey. The low lights turn everything golden and warm, yet he feels empty and cold, the bitter alcohol burning his throat. He hasn’t felt this pit of sadness in years, but he knows it’s worth it, because to miss you in the way he does now, means he finally has you. After years of longing and pining, you’re his.

He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. Twenty days. He can do this. You both can.

The bartender approaches, gesturing to his nearly empty glass. "Another, sir?"

Dieter shakes his head, declining another drink. With a long sigh, he settles his tab and makes his way up to the now-empty hotel suite.

The silence hits him as soon as he opens the door. No more laughter, no more of your soft humming as you get ready for bed. Just stillness.

Though, there are still signs of you through the space. Your favorite mug is still sitting on the counter. One of your hair ties left on the bathroom counter. The bottle of your favorite lotion is still sitting on the nightstand, right next to your water glass.

He picks up the lotion, opening it to smell the scent of you as he sits on the edge of the bed. He pulls out his phone, opening the photo he took of you and him this morning, sitting in bed toasting each other with mimosas.

He stares at the photo. Your hair is tousled and sleep rumpled. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders while the sheets are bunched up around your chest, barely concealing your body. Your eyes are bright and your smile wide as you clink your glass against his.

He wishes he could taste the orange juice and champagne on your lips again.

He can’t help himself, he knows the next picture, his thumb swipes across the screen. In this one, the sheet has slipped down, exposing the swell of your breasts.

He swipes to the next photo and he exhales a deep sigh. His face is nestled between your breasts, your skin glowing in the soft morning light. Your fingers tangled in his messy hair. He can almost feel the softness of your skin against his cheek, he yearns for it.

Dieter feels a warmth spreading through his body as he swipes to the next photo. This one makes his cock twitch - his mouth latched onto your nipple, cheeks hollowed as he sucks. His eyes are locked on the camera, dark with mischief and lust. One of your hands is gripping his hair tightly. Your head his tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted in a soft gasp.

Right after this picture, he tossed the phone on the bedside table and fucked you.

An idea lights in his mind as he sends the photos to you. It’ll be a nice surprise for you when you land.

A remembrance of this morning. Miss you like crazy. Call me when you can, even if it wakes me. i love you

—-

The plane touches down on the tarmac at LAX, sadness washes over you as it taxis to the gate. Soon, you’ll be home, far away from Dieter’s arms.

You make your way through customs in a tired daze, the harsh fluorescent lights of the airport seem to only amplify your exhaustion. You miss the gray London skies.

Finally, you collect your luggage and step out into the warm Los Angeles night air. It feels almost unreal to be back home now… especially when it feels like Dieter is your home and he’s over 5,000 miles away.

As you wait for your Uber, you dig your phone out of your purse and power it on for the first time since leaving London. A flood of notifications immediately pops up on the screen. Your heart skips a beat when you see several texts from Dieter.

With a soft smile, you open his texts first. Your breath catches as you pull your phone closer and swipe through the photos from your last morning together. You ache to feel his touch again. Twenty days suddenly feels too long to bear, but you tell yourself you’ll get through it. Dieter’s worth the wait.

You're still smiling at Dieter's sweet message when another text notification pops up. Your heart leaps into your throat as you see the name: Warren.

There’s a photo of you and Dieter… a selfie you took of the two of you on the balcony a couple mornings ago. Welcome home. Looks like you had a lot of fun in London. We should talk.

✨✨✨

A/N: OH MY GOD, RIGHT?!?!! I don't wish the long distance relationship goodbye at the airport departure curb on anyone. I may have shed a tear or two while writing that scene.

✨✨✨

Perma tagging: @schnarfer @mothandpidgeon @ohheypedrito Tagging some friends and lovers of GG (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @sawymredfox, @secretelephanttattoo, @galway-girlatwork, @whatumuhcallit, @chronically-ghosted @copperhalfcent, @jessthebaker, @moel-jiller, @sunnytuliptime, @jokesonthem @lotusbxtch, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @flawssy-227, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @littlemisspascal @cas-readsandwrites, @wave0fg00dvibes, @rulexofxnines, @tuquoquebrute, @littlevenicebitch69 @readingiskeepingmegoing, @marissa47, @amyispxnk, @peepawispunk, @ishabull ✨

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