#i might just have emotional troubles

[bumblebeehug]

maybe i'm a sad boring little single girl, but i can't for the love of me enjoy established relationship fics. i've tried, hell, i've written two, but in one of them i killed happy so the focus wasn't the relationship, and the other one was literally just natsu planning a date: no dialogue, not even any interactions with lucy. i'm sorry but you might actually catch me dead before i start writing serious established nalu fics. SAVE PERHAPS a short pregnancy drabble. MAYBE. MAYHAPS. don't hold your breath though

[gibbearish]

every time i see discourse about fundraisers go by on here im just fully struck with the realization that not a single one of you people have either taken a cybersecurity fraud prevention course or bothered to take one singular second to consider the website youre on. this is the broke bitches website. none of us can afford to fund our mutuals' grocery bills, much less entire evacuation funds, and CERTAINLY not FAKE evacuation funds taking advantage of genocide victims. all this shit abt how people are deliberately choosing not to fund every post that passes their dash because they hate palestinians literally just does the work of actual scammers for them by laying the high-pressure sales tactics groundwork, and the "do you guys have any idea how hard it is to keep coming up with new attention-grabbing fundraiser posts?" ones just ring EXTREMELY hollow because YEAH! YEAH I DO! and so does everyone i follow! and everyone they follow! because all of us are FUCKING BROKE and surviving on crumbs! i just saw one that said "i make sure to keep $40 in my wallet at all times so i can give $20 to any panhandlers i see, this is the same" and its like!! good for you, thats very nice, but like!!! you need need NEED to take a step back and realize that /being able to do that/ is a position of privilege, not the default setting to be a good person. i wont discount that some people do ignore fundraisers specifically because of racism because Of Course, but like. a) yelling at them isnt gonna make them stop, or more accurately yelling at /everyone else/ isnt gonna make those people stop, and b) trying to apply that as a blanket motivation for everyone just. realistically doesnt work. not donating is a nonaction, it is the literal default status, and while in specific situations you can use CONSISTENT absence of SPECIFIC actions to track a person's motivations SOMETIMES, broadly speaking that just. doesnt work.

there are 8 billion people on this planet. most of them will never know you exist. of the ones that do, most will not be able to help you. of the ones that can, most will not be on the broke bitches website passing the same communal $20 around. consider your audience and stop shitting on fellow poor people for having the gall to need to be careful with their money. and if you are genuinely only posting your fundraiser to tumblr, like. im sorry, but you need to anticipate not reaching your goal and prepare accordingly. theres a reason the last big scam scandal people talk about actually getting the money is like. all-or-nothing era, as a website none of us have the funds to make that kind of thing happen anymore or the security to risk it. a fundraiser not meeting its goal on here is not a personal sleight against whoever made it, its just how life goes sometimes. and it's unfair and it sucks and we should help however we can, but. sometimes you just arent able to help someone else, and continuing to feel responsible serves only to torture yourself. and blaming OTHERS serves only to move that guilt from yourself off onto another person. i imagine that has to be where a lot of the vitriol comes from, is people who cant afford to donate more getting pissed at people they see as having the funds but choosing not to share them, but again, sometimes you just are not able to achieve the goals you set out towards, through no fault of the specific parties involved.

people on tumblr choosing to buy groceries rather than potentially donate to a scam are not your enemy and are not the ones facilitating a genocide. we're all victims of the same horrific system, the question is just how that system manifests its influence on each of us. poverty kills just as thoroughly as a bomb. everyone is just doing their best to survive, and as much as we like to pretend that everyone should be a perfect selfless angel that puts others before themselves no matter what, humans are by default a selfish species, and it is a lot easier to say what youd do in theory than actually do it. and there's a reason you have to put on your own oxygen mask before helping the person beside you, youre of no help to anyone if youre too dead to do anything.

[parkercore-69]

when the unhealthy homoromantic friendship got yu that bad your therapist had to treat your separation like a bereavement and is teaching you coping mechanisms for grief

[frevandrest]

Hello! I've been backreading a lot of your blog to learn more about Saint-Just, and first of all let me just thank you for having posted so much amazing info! If it's alright, I had two questions. You said Saint-Just had a nickname, Florelle. What does it mean and are there any further details on that? Secondly, I heard that Saint-Just increasingly mentioned his father in his writings closer to Thermidor. Is that true, and are there any other details on his relationship with his dad? Thank you!

Aww, thanks!

Florelle seems to have been a pseudonym that he gave himself. I assumed it was for his early literary writings, but there seems to be a document from Blérancourt with that signature. It's been suggested that "Florelle" comes from the Greek word for flower, "anthos", which, if true, would suggest that he used Antoine as his name earlier than we thought. But there is no proof that this is indeed why he chose Florelle.

For second, he mentioned his father only once, but it's significant because it's the only time he mentioned him, like... ever. It was in a draft of his 9 Thermidor speech. He didn't include it in the speech itself. It remained in his notes, and it was eventually published as part of "Les Fragments sur les institutions républicaines", even though it's not really part of that (there are also his notebook notes).

The father mention is in the fragment 55. Soboul quotes it as:

l'âme que le ravissement de mon bonheur en me sacrifiant pour la patrie et je n'ai plus devt les yeux que le chemin qui me sépare de mon père mort et des degrés du panthéon

And my French sucks, so I offer a translation from here (idk how good it is tho):

The soul that the ravishment of my happiness is sacrificing myself for is the patrie; and I do not have before my eyes but the path that separates me from my dead father and the steps of the Pantheon.

(there is more in the fragment; I can share it in a followup post. It has a very "preparing to die" approach)

SJ's father, Louis-Jean, died when SJ was 10 years old. So... there wasn't much of a relationship to know about. There is only limited info on how SJ felt about his father. Stuff like: he took his father's pistols when he ran away to Paris at 19, but didn't sell them even though he was broke. (And he ran away shortly after the anniversary of his father's death, though that could be a coincidence). Or the possibility he did not stop using "Louis" for a long time during the revolution, because it was his father's name (idk how much truth there is to this, but I've seen it mentioned). And, of course, this quote.

[braisedhoney]

So you said a while ago underfell was your favorite au before. Is that still true or?

Also who’s your favorite character from whatever au you like?

damn, you were around for that? :'D

yeah, underfell used to be my favorite! i think it was smth about being really edgy as a kid, or maybe it was because red was my favorite color. idk man, even now i gotta admit those designs slap really hard.

i'm not really sure if i have a favorite au now though. i do have some ideas for underfell that i like, but i think i see the appeal of most aus bc i just like making new scenarios.

i like the big three a lot (classic, fell, swap). sans is my favorite in classic (predictable i know) if you're not counting gaster, since he isn't technically a canon character. i like both fell paps and fell sans equally, and swap paps is cool. i'd be buddies with that guy.

(i also really like asgore in undertale. the tragedy of the grief-stricken ruler who kills even though it's against his nature for the freedom of his people but also because he's long past convinced he's in too deep is really compelling to me, and by proxy i'm interested in the theoretical stories of all the fallen humans including frisk. also the whole thing with their broken family and chara and—

—whoops the ask is about aus not canon lmao, sorry!)

[monster-noises]

[hauntingblue]

Ace being jealous of the old pirate because luffy wants to spend time with him 😭

[sheerioswifties]

.

[justwannabecat]

“Yeah, see, the Anti-Ecto Acts are even more troubling than ‘inciting war with the Realm of the Dead and all its gods’ level.” Phantom began. “It affects the living, even outside of that.”

Constantine huffed, but didn’t disagree. Bruce could only guess what he was thinking.

“At least, from what Clockwork taught me,” Phantom continued, and that made Constantine snap to attention, “ectoplasm is just kind of… There. Floating around in the background, but at such a low level that it doesn’t usually manifest. But it’s still there, and it functions kind of like radiation: just being around it might cause you to develop liminality.”

“Liminality?” Bruce asked. Phantom shrugged.

“Any side effects you would notice are only caused by high levels of exposure, nothing like this low-level radiation. But, well… Ectoplasm is both attracted to emotions and attracted by emotions. And ectoplasm heightens emotions, too. The fact that the human race has been alive so long, evolved to feel more complex emotions, it’s because the ectoplasm bonded enough with humanity to allow that. Humans achieved sentience because they could feel enough to determine they existed. Without ectoplasm, slowly those emotions will fade. And…” Phantom hesitated.

“…I can’t say that humanity will become nonsentient once again, not for sure. But I can say that you will slowly, generation by generation, lose the feelings you have now.”

[sadesluvr]

TEETH.

Sergei Kravinoff might be a villian, and you a hero; but at the end of the day you're both animals.

A/N: First fic in a while so my bad if it sucks. You already know this movie was basically ass but we only watched it for ATJ anyway - I'm changing some of Kraven's character so he's similar to the comics/Spider-Man 2 game, so be sure to read the tags bc he’s a lil dark…

Word count: 2.3K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Spiderwoman! Reader / Breeding / Unprotected + rough sex

Kraven feared nothing. 

It simply wasn’t in his blood; not his staunchly machismo upbringing, nor in his DNA, quite literally having that of a lion. Fear made one weak. Fear made you less of a man. Fear was what killed his mother. 

If anything, fear was just another animal; ready to be captured, killed and conquered, ultimately destined to be draped across his chiselled body or mounted on a wall.  

You were simply no different. 

He never really understood why people were afraid of spiders, but he knew that they were a nuisance, having haunted him since he was a boy. Spiders weren’t savages like lions or bears, but they were sneaky; crawling around in the dark and waiting to strike, with a face so obscured that you’d never really know what you were looking at...what they were thinking.  

But now, with your mask off, he could see you clearly. Fear; clouding your eyes and consuming your lungs as you heaved, choking on the intensity of the emotion itself as your pupils darted between the beige, bloodied teeth on his necklace and a crossbow pointed right at your heart. 

“So, you’re the insect causing me all this trouble?” the man mused; legs crossed upon a desk as he eyed you. “I should’ve known.” 

“Should’ve known what? You know nothing about me.”  

“You’re a girl.” 

“Sexist, much.” 

He chuckled. 

“Far from it. My father, however, was quite the traditionalist. He would’ve done much worse by now.” 

There was a heavy silence as you swiped at your bottom lip. Much to your dismay, blood had begun to dry, and you were left with a salty, scratchy throat. Liquid, some of any kind, would’ve been appreciated, but you knew all too well that Kraven wasn’t one for showing mercy. Like all the villains you’d encountered, you’d had a push-pull relationship with the Hunter since the very beginning. He created a plan; you foiled it, sometimes you’d get your ass beat but the ending was almost always the same – with you safe from harm's way, and a bloodthirsty ego chipped away, but momentarily put to rest. 

On this occasion you’d slipped up, your Spidey-senses failing you and placing you right into harm's way, shipped into the back of a van and somehow escorted to a somewhat uncharacteristically lavish mansion.  

You'd always found Kraven to be a man of contradictions; whether he realised it or not. He was the best and worst of both worlds, a hunter with all the grit of someone who’d been fighting their entire life as a poverty-stricken rogue, and yet you’d come to learn that he was a Russian aristocrat, hence his rather extensive knowledge and unrelenting desire for control. Still, nothing took away from the fact that he was a brute, not even his strikingly good looks. 

“Just shoot me and be over it,” You continued, watching as he lowered his feet from atop the desk and strolled over to you.  “You didn’t need to drag me all the way here.” 

He looked even bigger than usual, but perhaps it was because you were perched uncomfortably on a chair, arms bound behind you as you craned your neck to look up at him. Your mind couldn’t - no, didn’t - want to fathom what he was thinking of you from this angle. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I care nothing about your secret. I just wanted to look you in the eye.” He mused, rummaging through his back pockets. Your breath hitched in your throat as he slid a knife from its sheath, finely carved and sharpened and lowered it to his side before pacing around you, stopping as his firm torso pressed up against the tip of your neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for your neck to be split open, only to be released from your bounds.  

Instinctively, you went to shoot some webs, hoping you could at least catapult yourself across the room, but he tightly grasped your wrists, steadying your arms in place.  

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” he sneered. “These are antiques.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Get up,” he announced suddenly, almost dragging you to your feet. Hesitantly, you began to shuffle out of the room, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless walls and corridors, all framed in ivory and the finest mahogany. “Keep walking until I tell you to stop.” 

You continued down the hall, opting for a straight line. It seemed to be the correct way as once you passed into the threshold of a room that had a velvet chaise lounges and a dresser, he dropped his hands from their grip on your own, closing the door behind you. Oddly enough, you never heard the click of a latch. 

Without a word, he walked past you to open the drawer, rummaging through the contents. It utterly baffled you why you didn’t feel the urge to protest, or even fight. The entire ordeal was feeling more like a glorified house tour with a side of intimidation rather than a future crime scene. 

Was it because he was handsome? Wild? Filthy rich? Whatever happened to your values? Perhaps Jameson was right.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the man placing something in the desk, curling his finger to beckon you towards him.  

“See this? This is what keeps me going,”he said, rolling a vial of florescent liquid in his fingertips.  “You and I are more alike than you think.” 

You scoffed, trying to ignore how close he was to you. He had an earthly musk that invaded your senses, sending tingles down your spine… and to your core. 

“I don’t need a drug to do what I do.” 

“Never mind the drug. It’s our blood that makes us strong.” 

You cocked a brow and he ignored your confused look. 

“You know, I’ve always hated spiders…” he began, rubbing his beard in contemplation.  “Too itchy; unpredictable. You never really know where they’re going to show up. If I ever saw one, I used to pop them like a zit.” 

There was a clear disgust in his words and vacant look in his eye that sunk you into a pit of fear for perhaps the first time since regaining your consciousness. You knew that it was just about you (surely), but perhaps a weird extension of your being; something bigger, far more innate than a girl in a spandex spider suit. 

“But then I realised that for their size, they’re deadly. Powerful, even. Recently I’ve wondered what it would look like if I harnessed it myself.” 

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your dry throat once more. 

“A drop of blood usually does the trick.” 

He tutted. Perhaps you were being too fickle. 

“No, любимец [darling], not that way. I crave something more.” 

Your eyes darted to the lounge. Since when did Spider-Woman lack composure? Kraven’s impenetrable gaze followed your own, and he chuckled knowingly. 

“With your arachnid abilities and my strength, we could create something truly unique. Nature has its ways, you know.” 

“You’re sick,” you replied, your chin held high but your bottom lip wobbled. “I’ll never join you. What you do is immoral.” 

Kraven furrowed his brows. 

“You killed a man, and you talk about morality?” 

“He was a bad man.” 

“He was my brother.” 

The word humanised him a bit. The Chameleon wasn’t your most imposing foe, but he was still a challenge you’d been rather glad to conquer. It was all too often that you’d fallen into the trap of thinking that the world was black and white; good and bad, when occasionally it was grey. Kraven was allowed to grieve his brother, but at the end of the day they were both bad guys. 

Then why did he turn you on so much? 

“You don’t have to resist,” the man grinned, strolling towards you. He stopped, glancing down and reaching a hand up to cup the sides of your face, caressing your cheekbones and sides of your lip with his thumb, threatening to penetrate your mouth. “I’ve never been this close to you before…I can smell you.” 

You were both superhuman, but he had the thirst of a predator. Quite literally. Breath hitched in your throat as he angled his lips to your ear, whispering a few fatal words. 

“Give in, маленький паучок [little spider]. Your body yearns for me.” 

One large hand was wrapped around your neck as he kissed you, his wild beard scratching against your face as his other hand snaked down your suit, down to between your thighs. The latex did nothing to offer you safety, his callouses prodding at your wet slit and beginning to rub in small circles, oh-so internationally slow, making sure he pressed against the hood of your clit. 

He had you as soon as a small moan escaped your lips. It’d been a while since you’d been touched, let a alone by someone who was as well-travelled as The Hunter himself, and every kiss, nibble and squeeze was sending you into a deeper spiral of lust and guilt that you could barely fathom that you’d already made your way to the lounge. 

You pulled away as your calves collided with the frame, lips wet and parted as you glanced up at him – wholly helplessly. His hand remained firm on your face, angling his head as he smirked at your shielded demeanour, a far cry from the flashy superhero you’d been but an hour ago.  

“Kra—“ 

“Don’t call me that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Call me Sergei. I need to hear you say it.” 

The name rolled from your lips as a cry as he bunched the sides of your suit in his hands and tearing it apart, exposing your bare pussy and ass, with strands of fabric shaping your legs like a makeshift garter. He grinned, large hands frantically groping at your thighs and ass, spreading your cheeks apart and exposing your hot core to the cool air. 

“прекрасный.” [Gorgeous] he moaned, swatting at your ass before dipping his fingers inside you, rubbing your folds between his fingers as you coated him in your juices. Grasping your hands around his thick neck, you clung onto what you could as he explored your body, lowering you down onto the smooth velvet. 

It wasn’t long before he straddled you, holding your body down with his pelvis as he removed his jacket, giving you an eyeful of his crafted torso. Unsurprisingly, he had the body of a God, with a prominent v-line and happy trail pointing down to between his legs. Even through his heavy trousers you could make out his bulge, mounded and ready for you. 

You gasped in anticipation, watching as the man withdrew his cock from his briefs; red and girthy, with precum spilling from his tip. Skilfully, he spread your thighs, making sure they were safely by your sides (he’d seen how flexible you were, your ankles touching your ears was nothing) and lifting your lower back slightly off the cushions, pushing into you with a deep sigh. 

At first, his intrusion was a dull ache, but as he began to move his hips against your own you felt utterly fulfilled, moaning and writhing as he wasted no time in daggering your wanting pussy, making sure you felt every inch.  

“Sergei...” you cried, eyes fluttering shut as you flung your head back in pleasure. “Please...” 

“Say it again.” 

Words evaded you. 

The man grinned, flashing his canines as he tightened his grip, compelling him to fuck you harder. The whole ordeal was obscene; New York’s most treasured hero being bent into submission by the villain of the week, a scene so heinous that it was all the more endearing, and with every thrust you knew you wanted him more. Sergei didn’t care whether his combat boots scuffed the fine upholstery, or if his grip on your waist would leave a few bruises – he just wanted to own you. 

He huffed as his heavy balls slammed repeatedly against your crack, beginning to bottom out in you with every hit, so much so that it looked like you were conjoined.

Even through the strain in your legs you could tell you were close, knots in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel as your walls clenched around him, earning a delighted rumble from deep within his chest. 

You knew that he wasn’t one for talk, but you would’ve appreciated the warning that he was about to come. Every guy you’d been with tended to get sloppier, but he grew stronger, the literal animal in him taking over as he began to ramble and curse through gritted teeth in Russian.  

Sergei threw his head back as he held you down, hands pawing your breasts and strands of hair sprawled in a beautiful mess across his face as he came, ropes of hot white cum spilling into your pussy just as you dressed his cock in a silky sheen. Your chests heaved as you desperately tried to come down from your high, glancing down at your messy nether regions as his seed began to seep out of you.  

There was no going back. Nine months began now. 

Would it really be all that bad? 

It all went back to fear, really. In the back of his mind the thought of a spider still troubled Sergei, but at least he’d conquered it. Even if it was temporary. 

FIN. 

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks. 

 As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat. 

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.” 

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you. 

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.” 

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up. 

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks. 

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight. 

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick. 

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.” 

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk. 

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.” 

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?” 

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly? 

“It’s the 11th. Why?” 

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.” 

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?” 

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look. 

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?” 

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking. 

You didn’t need to be. 

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air. 

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!” 

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again. 

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!” 

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said. 

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”  

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away. 

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.” 

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted. 

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could. 

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.” 

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him. 

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.” 

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.” 

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again. 

“Well, look who it is.” 

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.” 

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . . 

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.” 

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies. 

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart. 

He smirked. “You kept track?” 

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.” 

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin. 

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.” 

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?” 

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along. 

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face. 

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s. 

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you. 

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach. 

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary. 

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief. 

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek. 

“You’re - you’re pregnant?” 

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.” 

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?” 

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other. 

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake. 

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son. 

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early. 

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?” 

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!” 

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.” 

“What did you say?” 

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.” 

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible. 

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?” 

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you. 

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?” 

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said. 

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase - 

“I’m here, I’m here!” 

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side. 

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse. 

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile. 

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.” 

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind. 

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?” 

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.” 

“You - you what?” 

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.” 

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.” 

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment. 

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.” 

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable. 

————————

“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously. 

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.” 

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder. 

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.” 

“So far?” You said curiously. 

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you. 

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.” 

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased. 

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.” 

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?” 

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted. 

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock. 

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.” 

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!” 

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.” 

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby. 

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally. 

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked. 

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door. 

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in. 

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.” 

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself. 

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo. 

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.” 

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave. 

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked. 

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son. 

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms. 

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him. 

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach. 

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice. 

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life. 

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?” 

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked. 

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” 

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

[cruel-seduction]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)

mdni 18+

Theodore Nott 

6’4 | He’s taller than Mattheo, and yes, he lords it over him (quietly, of course, because Theo is above petty behavior… unless it’s funny).

Lean, but don’t be fooled—this man is cut. He’s that deadly kind of fit where you don’t notice at first because he’s always wearing loose sweaters and looking like a poetry major. But the second the sleeves roll up? Oh. My. God. Veins for DAYS, hands strong enough to snap a wand in half (or your will to argue).

He doesn’t work out. Like, ever. He’s just naturally like this. Probably from lugging around all those dark magic books and the emotional weight of his trauma (we love a man with issues!).

(He could choke you with one hand while quoting Dante and your ghost would thank him. RESPECTFULLY!)

Has that sleepy, “don’t bother me, I’m too cool for this” kind of vibe. Until he’s pissed, and suddenly it’s quiet rage central. A single glare from him could silence an entire Great Hall—and probably has.

His abs? Unfair. They’re there, but in the casual, effortless way that makes you want to cry because why do they look that good without trying? If you’re lucky enough to see him shirtless (bless your soul), you’ll be rethinking your life decisions.

Quidditch player energy without ever actually playing. His thing? Sitting in the stands, sipping black coffee, and judging everyone while looking hot.

"YOU WANNA KNOW IF I’D FOLLOW THEODORE INTO A CURSED FOREST AT MIDNIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE SAID SO??? THE ANSWER IS YES. I’D GO, NO QUESTIONS ASKED."

You think he’s calm and controlled until you see him in a duel, and suddenly he’s throwing hexes like he’s possessed. It’s giving “do-not-poke-the-bear” energy, and it’s hot.

His smirk? Criminal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you forget how to breathe for a second and then hate yourself because he definitely knows the effect it has on people.

“Mia cara,” he says, and you’re done for. No wand needed. He just obliterated your whole existence.

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s quiet, but it’s that kind of quiet. The "I could verbally destroy you with a single sentence but choose not to because I have better things to do" kind of quiet.

(WE LOVE A MAN WITH RESTRAINED CHAOS!!! IT’S SO SEXY!!!)

His reputation is split down the middle. People either think he’s the chillest guy in Slytherin or they’re low-key terrified of him. There is no in-between. He doesn’t go out of his way to make people uncomfortable, but if you catch his bad side? RIP to you, my friend.

Very composed most of the time, but don’t mistake that for softness. Theo doesn’t raise his voice; he raises his eyebrow. And somehow, that’s worse.

"You really thought that was a good idea? Cute."

Stone-cold when it comes to confrontations. No yelling, no theatrics—just a quiet menace that makes you wish he’d scream at you instead because this is SO MUCH WORSE.

However, if it’s for his friends? Oh, baby, the gloves come off. Someone messes with Mattheo? He’s done. Someone insults you? They’re not showing up to class tomorrow. He’s terrifyingly efficient when it comes to protecting the people he loves.

Doesn’t talk a lot in fights, but his insults are cutting when they come out. And he does it with a smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him.

"What’s the matter? Spellbook too heavy for you? Or is it just that your brain isn’t working?"

Unlike Mattheo, he doesn’t get in trouble for starting fights. Oh no, Theo’s the one who talks his way out of detention, leaving the professors wondering how they ended up apologizing to him.

Let’s be real, Theo has layers. He’s the kind of guy who looks calm and put together on the outside, but his mind? A mess. Overthinks everything, but you’ll never know it because he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions. (He’s good at this, but it’s also probably why he sleeps like four hours a night.)

Moody, but in a subtle way. You’ll notice when he’s upset because he’ll get even quieter, or start tapping his fingers on the table. He’s not the type to vent about it—he’ll just say “it’s nothing” while his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear it crack.

Theo loves order. He’s a perfectionist and gets mildly stressed when things don’t go according to plan. He doesn’t lose his temper, though—he just sighs dramatically and mutters something in Italian like "Per l’amor del cielo..."

(BILINGUAL KINGS ARE UNFAIR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN INSULT ME IN TWO LANGUAGES?)

A total academic weapon. Not because he tries super hard, but because he’s just naturally brilliant and does the bare minimum to get top marks. He can explain a spell you’ve been struggling with for days in five seconds flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Always looks like he’s in control, but put him in social situations? Total disaster. Theo’s not awkward, but he doesn’t do small talk. Half the time, he just nods politely and hopes whoever’s talking gets the hint.

Has the driest sense of humor. He’ll drop a sarcastic one-liner so deadpan you’re not even sure if he’s joking.

"I think your essay was… bold. Choosing to write it in such a confusing way must’ve been a creative choice."

Drinks coffee like it’s water. Black coffee, of course. None of that sugary stuff, though he secretly loves when you make him try your sweet drink.

Doesn’t like parties but goes because the group makes him. He’s the guy sitting on the couch, watching everyone else make fools of themselves while holding a drink he hasn’t touched. (He’s your ride home because you know he’s always sober enough to apparate responsibly.)

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend

Ah, Theodore Nott, the walking paradox of calculated charm and quiet vulnerability. Having him as your boyfriend is like playing chess against a master—except the stakes are your heart, and he already has you in checkmate before you even realize the game started.

Manipulation, Thy Name is Theo:Theodore isn’t one to beg for your love; oh no, he’s too smooth for that. Instead, he’ll make sure you think choosing him was your idea all along.

He’ll subtly nudge you into needing him.

He anticipates your desires before you even say them aloud:

"Thirsty? I grabbed your favorite drink. Tired? Don’t worry, I already finished that essay you were stressing about."

He’s not loud about his possessiveness, but it’s there. You don’t realize it at first, but suddenly, every other guy who tries to get too close to you is either giving you a wide berth or “just happened” to fail their next exam. Coincidence? With Theo, nothing is a coincidence.

(We love a man who’s low-key terrifying but only in a protective way!)

How He Realized He Was in Love:Theo didn’t believe in love. Love was messy, uncontrollable, and entirely too risky for someone who thrived on precision and control. But then you came along, and everything changed.

It was slow at first. He didn’t notice it happening until one day, you smiled at him across the library, and he felt his carefully constructed walls crack.

And then it hit him.

“Merlin, I’m in love with her.”

Of course, Theo didn’t panic outwardly. No, he spent the next week internally spiraling.

"What does this mean?"

"What if she doesn’t feel the same way?"

"How do I tell her without sounding like an idiot?"

Eventually, he decided that subtlety was overrated. One evening, while you were sitting in his dorm, flipping through one of his books, he just said it.

"I love you."

You froze, unsure if you heard him correctly. He didn’t look away, his intense gaze pinning you in place.

"You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know."

Affection, Theo Style:Theo isn’t flashy or over-the-top, but he’s deeply romantic in his own way.

Words of Praise: He’s a master of compliments that don’t feel like compliments until you think about them later.

"You’re too brilliant for this school, you know that?""How do you manage to look stunning even when you’re furious with me?""You’re the only person who’s ever managed to make me lose focus, mia cara."

Subtle Acts of Service: He’s always doing things for you without making a big deal out of it. Your favorite quill broke? There’s a new one on your desk the next day. You’re stressed about a test? He’ll quiz you until you feel confident (and then reward you with a kiss for every right answer).

The Praise Kink Is Real, Babe:Theo doesn’t just praise you to make you feel good. He needs you to know how much he adores you. Whether it’s your intelligence, your kindness, or just the way you look in his sweater, he’s always quick to remind you of your worth.

"You’re too good for me, you know that?" he murmurs against your ear, his hand resting on your hip. "But don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you go."

(Is it hot in here or is it just Theo?)

The Possessiveness Comes Out in Subtle Ways:

At parties, his hand is always resting somewhere on you—your lower back, your shoulder, your thigh. A quiet signal to everyone else: She’s mine.

If someone flirts with you, he doesn’t cause a scene. Instead, he’ll step in with that dangerously calm demeanor, his words laced with thinly veiled threats.

"I believe you’re in my seat." Translation: Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.

Theodore, the Unexpected Softie:For someone so composed, Theo is surprisingly soft when it’s just the two of you.

He loves curling up with you on the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders while he reads aloud from a book he thinks you’d enjoy.

Sleeps with one hand always touching you—your waist, your hand, your hair. It’s the only time he truly relaxes.

Occasionally whispers “I don’t deserve you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

Having Theo as a boyfriend is a rollercoaster of intensity and tenderness. He’s the type to protect you from the world while also making you feel like you’re the center of his universe. And honestly? We’d ride that roller coaster over and over again.

Theodore Nott | Obsessive Devotion

If Mattheo is chaos in bed, Theodore is calculated destruction. Theo doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time. He knows every move, every word, every touch is designed to drive you absolutely insane.

The Slow Burn King:Theo isn’t just about getting you off; he’s about making you beg. He’s not the type to drag you into the nearest broom closet and go at it like a madman. No, Theo prefers to let the tension build—catching your eye across the library with a smirk, his hand brushing yours during dinner, leaning in close to whisper something sinful in your ear when no one else is looking.

"You’re squirming, mia cara. Tell me, what’s on your mind?"

Possessive but Polished:He loves control—holding you still with a firm grip while his mouth works wonders between your thighs. Theo thrives on the sound of your moans and whimpers, each one a confirmation that you belong to him.

But don’t get it twisted: his possessiveness is refined. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops; instead, he’s branding it into your skin with every kiss, every bite, every low growl of, “Mine.”

(We love a man who can ruin our lives with just one look.)

Praise You Like a Goddess:Theo is the king of praise. He’s not subtle about how much he worships you, and he makes sure you know it.

"You’re so perfect, amore mio. I could stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for me."

He’ll kiss every inch of your skin like it’s holy ground. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are when you’re flushed, trembling, and completely at his mercy.

And if you praise him back? Game over. Tell him he’s a good boy, and suddenly you’ve unlocked the most obedient, eager-to-please version of Theo. He’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

Control with a Dash of Chaos:Theo’s not loud, but his intensity is deafening. He thrives on being in control, but sometimes he loves to break his own rules. If you push him just enough—maybe tease him in public or drag him into a forbidden situation—he’ll snap in the most delicious way.

"You think you can play games with me? Let me show you how this ends, bella."

Experimentation, but Make It Sophisticated:Theo isn’t one to dive into wild kinks without purpose, but he’s creative when it comes to trying new things.

Silk ties? Check.

Blindfolds? Of course.

Whispering Latin endearments in your ear while he has you completely at his mercy? A standard Tuesday night.

And don’t get me started on the way he uses his fingers—this man could write symphonies with how skillfully he plays your body like an instrument.

Stamina for Days:Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you—Theo can and will go for hours. He has the patience to draw out every moment until you’re gasping and begging for release, and then he’ll do it all over again.

"Oh no, dolcezza. We’re not finished yet. Not until I’ve had my fill of you."

Switch Theo = UNLOCKED:Normally, Theo’s the one in control, but when you take charge? When you straddle his hips, grip his jaw, and order him to behave? He’s putty in your hands.

"Tell me what you want, bella. Anything—it’s yours."

And the best part? He loves it. Watching you take what you want from him, hearing you praise him as he falls apart under your touch—it’s enough to drive him to the brink every single time.

In Private, He’s All Yours:While Theo keeps his emotions tightly guarded in public, behind closed doors, he’s all in. He loves to hold you afterward, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings as you both come down from the high.

"You’re everything, you know that? My whole world."

Having Theodore Nott as a lover is like being the muse of a masterpiece—every touch, every word, every moment is designed to make you feel like the most desired person on the planet. And honestly? We’re not complaining

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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[majestyeverlasting]

the moments in between

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Summary: When Joel and Ellie arrive at the Jackson commune, his strong frame and intense gaze captivate you. But as the days pass, you lose hope that he might be drawn to you as well. That is, until the walls come crashing down and the truth finally reveals itself.

Word Count: 7.3k [slow burn]

A/N: I put a lot of love and time into this one. It's my longest fic so far but it didn't feel hard, which I like to believe is a good thing. Hope it resonates, hope you feel the feels and the yearning between these two—let me know! Hope you're well.

A breeze follows Tommy as he saunters in through the doors of the Tipsy Bison, the soft click of his boot heels echoing off the wood with each easy step. The cowboy hat on his head casts a shadow over his eyes until he takes it off, his dark hair cascading down over his ears. There’s a small smile playing on his lips that makes you narrow your eyes.

Cleaning the bartop suddenly loses its appeal, but you don’t stop, only slow down. The fresh, tangy scent of lemongrass continues to waft up from the motion.     

“We close early on Sunday’s, officer,” you tease as he climbs onto a stool. 

He frowns as he sets his hat aside. “I don’t look like a cop, do I?” You shrug, and he chuckles as his gaze roves over to the pool room. “Nate back there? Yo, Nate!” 

“Evening, Tom,” the older man calls back as he polishes a cue ball. 

“Joel’s made it into town.” There’s no overt emotion in the way he shares the news, but you can see that it’s all in his eyes as he waits for you to react.  

“Joel, Joel? As in your brother?” He nods, still in disbelief himself. “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing, Tommy—right? What the heck.” He used to talk about him all the time. 

His exhale makes way for a shaky smile, “I know. Made it in not too long ago with a young girl he’s looking after,” he tells you, voice thick with a mix of emotions. “He’s outside. Wanted to come in and see if you’d let us grab a drink.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Know it’s late. Promise I’ll make up for the trouble.” He knows it’s no trouble. Not when it comes to him. 

He turns around, barstool squeaking, and waves Joel in through the window. 

You move to start working on their whiskies. “Make it up by letting me be the baby’s godmother?” The glasses clink as you set them onto the bar and begin pouring the caramel colored liquid, smirking when you meet his gaze.

Tommy isn’t completely opposed to the idea. You’d been in Jackson since the beginning, a friend to him and Maria in every sense of the word. Arguably family. “If you can manage not to tick me off until the little one gets here.” Despite his words, his eyes are fond. 

The door creaks open, and Joel strides in, scanning the room. There are pictures on the walls of American icons and landmarks, and old Polaroids of commune members. There’s a guarded confidence to the way he walks, an intensity. 

Tommy quickly leans in and whispers, “He means well. It’s been a long day.” 

Joel takes a seat beside his brother and acknowledges you with a curt nod, tugging on the collar of his shirt.  

“Welcome to Jackson,” you greet, introducing yourself afterwards.

“Joel,” he says, taking you in with a steady gaze. 

“Tommy’s told me a lot about you.” You push their glasses closer to them in an encouragement to start drinking.

Joel takes his first sip and fights back a reflexive grimace. It’s been a while, but it's good. Good enough to make him feel pleasantly warm as it glides down. Tommy drinks off his brother’s lead, and you realize just how alike they look. Joel’s hair is a little shorter and accented with streaks of gray, but they both have those same dark, telling eyes. 

They fall into light conversation, but it’s clearly not what they'd talk about if they were alone. That’s when you sense the distance. The slight edge to the space between them. It’s why Tommy resorts to drawing you in, the two of you ripping off each other as Joel listens, fine with not having to speak until this whole little ordeal was winding to an end. However, he does sit up a little straighter whenever you laugh. You pour them more whiskey when their glasses get empty.     

Eventually, the remaining light outside fades away. Tommy hisses at the sight, standing. “I gotta get home to Maria,” he says, stretching his back. Joel moves to get up too, until, “At least finish off this glass, man. You’ve earned it.” Tommy squeezes his brother’s shoulder. He means it genuinely, at least. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Joel. Thanks again for this,” he tells you. 

“Bye, sheriff,” you call after him. Tommy scoffs.  

Joel realizes just how quiet it is when you move aside to tinker with a bison trinket sitting on the counter, unsure of what to say with Tommy gone. He knows you can see him looking at you. “So, are you here by yourself?” he finally asks. 

A playful smile tugs at your lips. “That’s not a creepy question at all,” you tease, quickly gathering that he doesn’t find the implication funny. “Uncle Nate?” you call. 

“Busy!”  

You raise your brows at Joel. “Not alone.”

Nate was chosen family. The man taught you everything you know about shooting, fishing, and survival even though you gave him a hard time for it when you were younger. He was also the founder of the Tipsy Bison. He only came into the bar on the weekends when he wasn't on patrol. His time in the military all those years ago made it hard to step away from a life of service. 

“We were cleaning when Tommy came in,” you tell Joel. He takes in that information wordlessly. 

“You aren’t much for talking, are you?” Joel takes a sip from his glass. “Nothing wrong with that. Must mean you don’t miss much. Really observant.” When he doesn’t respond, you smile shyly, realizing he probably just wanted to relax after a long day. “Guess I won’t stand here and talk your ears off.” 

The floor creaks as you disappear into the recreation room with Nate, rounding the corner. Joel exhales, shoulders dropping from being drawn up. He almost misses your company. 

Nate sits hunched over a word search puzzle, using the pool table as if it's a normal desk. He doesn’t look up at you, even when you give an affectionate tug to his curly gray ponytail. It was something you’d been doing since the days you both were out on your own and had to stay quiet all the time. Back when there was no safety, no security, no commune. 

“Ouch,” he drones, unphased. 

“Are you gonna come out and meet Tommy's brother?” you ask, low so Joel can’t hear. “I feel like you guys have a lot in common: brooding and grumpy.” Pride flutters in your chest when the man’s lips twitch. 

“I’ll meet him… eventually. Gotta finish this puzzle.” You realize there’s a small hourglasses going, the sand swiftly filling the bottom portion. “There ya are—serendipity.” He circles the letters. 

Word searches were something he recently started doing. When you have a past as extensive as his, it’s always chasing after you in one way or another. Especially in those quiet moments that sneak up on you. He claimed that seeking out words from amid an ordered chaos keeps the racing thoughts at bay whenever they come rushing in. 

Joel is finished by the time you join him again, and you realize he’d waited instead of calling out. Already standing, ready to go. 

“Anything else I can get you?” 

He shakes his head. “I appreciate your hospitality.” 

Joel turns to leave but you keep talking, “So I reckon Tommy already squared you away with a house and a tour of the town?” 

He stops. “I’m across the street from him. Gettin’ the tour tomorrow.”  

“That’s great, I’m really glad you found us.” You sound so genuine that there’s a flutter in his gut. “We’re a pretty crazy bunch, but I think you’re gonna like it here.” 

“Hope so.” Those are the words he leaves you with.

Your eyes stay trained on his back as he makes his way towards the door, stride the same as when he first arrived. Perhaps a little looser. Before he exits the bar, his eyes catch a glimpse of one of the decorative license plates secured to the wall: Austin, Texas. 

Shortly after he makes it outside, his heart rate ticks up in that impending way he wishes wasn’t so familiar, breath catching in his throat as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. There’s no escaping the panic as it sets in, surging through him. A few staggering steps allow him to brace a hand on a wooden directory board. 

You see it all from inside. At first, you think he’s trying to read the sign, but then he hunches over more and grips his chest. Without thinking, you jog towards the doors. 

“Joel?” You call once you’ve broken outside. 

It’s a cool spring night, a crescent moon shares its pale glow from above. Most of Jackson is already tucked away inside or at least halfway there. But in this sliver of time, it feels like it’s just the two of you outside. Joel doesn’t let on that he’d heard you, but the moment you’re close enough, you recognize what’s going on. You press your palm to his back to let him know you’re there. That he’s still here. 

“Concentrate on your breathing. In and out, just like that,” you encourage, settling on rubbing his back in measured passes. Then you go quiet on the off chance he needs that. 

In your newfound silence, Joel is forced to focus on the shaky breaths rising from his lungs. That’s when he accepts he’s not in control. Not in the grand scheme of things. There’s a whole big fallen world just outside the gates of this haven. A world that had taken people he loved and was cruel enough to let him be the one who lived to tell the tale. The heat that rises to his cheeks is made up of frustration more than distress, crackling like pop. Like coals. 

The ground takes on a vignette as he stares at it, his vision briefly closes in. You never withdraw your touch. 

When his breaths eventually begin to steady, you remember how to breathe yourself. With a tired exhale, he straightens back up to his full height, and you take a few small steps away. Maybe this wasn’t new, but a fact of life for the man who’d rode into Jackson in an air of mystery and a young girl by his side. Maybe he never wanted you to get a glimpse at this side of him. If he feels that way, he doesn’t make it obvious. He almost looks appreciative that you’d bothered enough to care. 

“Sorry to scare you,” he rasps, not meeting your gaze even though he can feel it. You want to tell him that there isn’t much that scares you anymore. At least that’s what you like to believe. “I’m usually alone.” 

Except, tonight, he wasn’t. And maybe that wasn’t such a terrible thing. 

•••

Howdy Stranger

This is Jackson Hole

The last of the Old West 

Joel reads the painted wooden sign as Tommy and Maria show him and Ellie around. There are people everywhere. Children playing outside, adults fluttering in and out of shops. All while the Teton mountains loom and watch over it all with their snow-capped peaks. He looks over at the girl when she nudges his arm, pointing to a Calico lounging on a porch. Despite her beaming smile, all he offers is a low hum. 

It was hard to be in the now when his thoughts were split between the past and future. Up until Jackson, there was no such thing as stability, and he couldn’t help but think about the day that the rug would be pulled from beneath the commune as well. Ellie’s smile fades when she notices the harsh squint of his face. He kicks himself for it.   

“Cat hater,” she mumbles under her breath.

Joel grunts and directs his attention back to his brother. 

When the tour comes to an inevitable end, Ellie sings Jackson’s praises after Tommy and Maria go their separate ways with a promise to reconnect later that day. He lets her talk as they make their way back to their new house, idly agreeing every once in a while. A few curious eyes fall on them as they walk, but Joel doesn’t pay them any mind. 

“Dude, are you even listening to me?” Ellie stops walking to give him a flat look. 

“I hear you,” he insists. “Been hearing you for the past ten minutes.”

There’s no snark in his tone, but Ellie still feels the slight sting of offense. “Well, sorry for being excited about having a nice place to live for once. It’s not like I was born into hell or anything—I mean the Boston QZ.” Sarcasm drips from her voice as she starts walking again, faster so it looks like they’re not together.

Joel swallows down guilt like it’s just another pill. His legs are long, so it doesn’t take much to catch back up with her.

“Hey…Kid…Ellie.” She keeps ignoring him. “This is new for me too, okay? Everybody’s got a different way of processing, can we agree on that?” It’s a fair enough proposal. He never had been forward when it came to sharing his thoughts. “Wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she murmurs, deciding to take a break from her rambling for his sake. The mutual silence isn’t so bad. 

Someone he isn’t expecting to see is you. You’re wearing a backpack and ushering a line of young kids into the community center. One of the little girls stops and stretches her arms up towards you, earning a playful eyeroll before being lifted onto your hip. Joel doesn’t miss the way the afternoon sunlight catches your face. 

•••

The next day, a faint thump against the door startles Ellie as she sketches in the dining room. Rather than getting up from the table, she remains still, pencil in hand and brows furrowed. Upstairs, the spray of the shower continues as Joel lets it drown out everything else. Three light knocks eventually sound, and she musters up the courage to scurry to the front. 

She peeks out the window first, spotting you. Someone she hadn’t seen around. An amused smile pulls at her lips at the way you’ve seemingly wrestled the big basket you’re holding into a better grip than before. 

When she opens the door, you let out a relieved sigh. “Special delivery,” you say before introducing yourself. 

“That’s a really pretty name,” she compliments, already warming up to you. “I’m Ellie—is all that stuff for us?” When you nod, she excitedly steps aside and ushers you in. 

“I’m not gonna say you shouldn’t have because that’d be a lie,” she shamelessly admits. “You can put it right over here.” You follow her into the living room and place the welcome basket on the coffee table. 

A few of the ladies you volunteer with helped you put it together after your shift counseling for the spring break camp. There were cookies, seeds, natural soaps, feminine hygiene products, and even a knit blanket that looked particularly soft and cozy. Ellie wastes no time reaching out to run her fingers over it. A laugh bubbles up your throat when her jaw drops. 

“This is literally what clouds feel like.” She haphazardly pulls the blanket out the basket, wrapping it around herself like a cape. “If Joel says anything, this was specifically included for me.” 

“I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to share if he asked nicely,” you reason, amused. Ellie’s nose wrinkles. “But to be fair, we did think you’d be the one to really appreciate it.”

She smiles at being considered. “Who made it? This is, like, next level.” 

“A woman named Emilia,” you tell her. “She actually made me one back when Jackson was first being built up that I still have,” you tell her, taking a seat on the couch and looking around. The evening sunlight pours in through the windows, casting golden streaks onto the floors. “Now she’s always got a few on standby.” 

Ellie sits beside you, reaching out to dig through the other contents in awe. “They told us the commune's only, like, seven years old on our tour yesterday,” she recounts. Think you’ll have your blanket forever?” 

“Forever’s an awful long time. It might hold up,” you think aloud. Ellie nods, contemplative. “I can take you by to meet her sometime, if you’d like. She’s the resident seamstress, so you’ll probably end up crossing paths anyways.” 

“What about you? What do you do?” she asks, giving you her full attention. 

“I mainly help coordinate community events. Been stepping in to assist with the youth spring break camp for the last couple days, though,” you say. “Also bartend on the nights that I feel like it. Just for fun, you know?” 

Ellie's face lights up. “I’ve had whiskey before.” She puffs out her chest when she says it, and you play into her pride by raising an impressed brow. The first and last time you had a sip was when you snuck it from Nate as a teen. “But that’s really cool, though. The community stuff and all that.” You can tell by her tone that she means it. In more ways than one, you’re reminded of your younger self. 

“Joel’s gonna join the patrol. He says I’m too young, but that’s just bullshit.” She says the last part lower as if he’s somewhere listening. “I’ll figure out a way to make him cave.” There’s an air of confidence to her voice that suggests she’s done it before. The thought warms a tiny portion of your chest.

“I’ve gone out with my uncle Nate a few times. It can be a lot,” you admit. “He just wants you safe, Nate’s the same way.” 

As Joel stops at the top of the staircase, freshly showered, he catches those last words. He’d know your voice even if it’d been forever. His footsteps are quiet as he descends the stairs, but you hear him coming nevertheless. Ellie’s too busy sniffing the pine soap as you straighten up and glance his way. Joel’s eyes are as observant as you remember when they land on you, seeing into you, it seems. His damp hair is combed back in a way that makes him look more distinguished. 

“There you are.” You stand up with a smile. You’d been wondering how he was doing since the panic attack.

He wishes your warmth wasn't so compelling.  

Ellie whips around to look at him. “I know you said not to open the door to strangers—which is practically everybody at this point—but she’s really nice and brought us gifts so you can’t be mad at me,” she rushes out. He clocks the blanket around her shoulders. 

He hmphs. “That’s how they get you.” He’s not being serious, but Ellie frowns, trying to read through his eternal poker face. “Treats and a friendly smile.” Your lips twitch in amusement as Ellie narrows her eyes. 

When Joel starts walking your way, she consoles herself with the fact that he would've already asked you to leave if he sensed your intentions were off. The commune wasn’t filled with questionable people like that anyways. The two of them didn’t have to be apprehensive of every soul they came across anymore. 

He’s close enough now that you can smell the cedar soap on his skin. “I’m not a stranger,” you lightly defend. “Not entirely.” You look from Ellie to Joel. 

A wall rises in real time, shutting you out right along with the night you met. It happens in his eyes just like everything does. He hadn’t mentioned you to her, and it was your mistake for believing he would’ve at least passed on a name. 

You swallow back a small lump in your throat that may not be entirely just. “Anyways, hopefully you guys will be able to put this stuff to use.” 

“Of course we will,” Ellie pipes up. “Are you leaving already?” She hadn’t missed the finality that had crept into your tone. 

You nod. “Don’t wanna take up too much of your evening. I actually meant to come by sooner.” 

“Well, are you going to the dining hall for dinner?” Her gaze flicks to Joel. “Maybe you can come with us.” 

Joel knows he’s in trouble when he hears the fondness in Ellie’s voice. It’s the same sentiment he was straining to tamper down within himself. Every time he opened his mouth or looked at you, it tried to claw its way to the forefront. The last thing he needed was another person getting close enough to see that he was a million tiny pieces being held together by the glue of whatever god was keeping him alive. 

You decline her invitation, expressing plans to go to your uncle’s place. But you give her a rain check. When you go to leave, Joel allows his eyes to flitter down the rest of your body. 

That wouldn’t be the last he saw of you. But it was always from afar, lingering on the outskirts. Wishing there was a seamless way he could fall into your orbit without sending everything spiraling out of control. 

You were always looking right back at him with hope in your eyes, holding space. Waiting for your world to be shaken. 

•••

Laughter, chatter, and music drown out the insects that usually take precedence at night. Weeks of planning had finally come into fruition. All of Main Street is lined with fairy lights that cast their warm glow down on the summer festival. There was no shortage of entertainment, games, and food. It was a time to let loose and relish the sweetness in the air along with that of life. 

Nate plays his harmonica for a group of children around the bonfire, all clapping and stomping along. A smile graces your face as you walk by, waving at him. The fullness of your heart almost overrides the ache that has settled in the arches of your feet. You’d barely sitten down since earlier that morning when preparation began. There was a sense of responsibility that came along with the orange vest you were dawned in. The pressure to assist, and guide, and answer questions wasn’t all on you, but the other volunteers were better at taking breaks. 

Tommy’s grainy voice breaks into the air through a megaphone, “Thirteen-and-up three-legged races starting in five minutes, this is your last call. Grab a partner and make your way over to the east lawn,” he says. “Again, this is the last call.”

Joel and Ellie already happen to be seated at a picnic table that gives them a perfect view of the race setup and Tommy facilitating in an orange vest of his own. Ellie had already worked through her first honey cake and was eyeing Joel’s. He pretends not to notice until she looks up at him all wide-eyed.  

“Can I—” he slides his plate over to her. “Thanks.” 

“Your eyes are bigger than your stomach,” he lightly accuses, shaking his head. 

“What does that even mean?” She takes a bite. “Weirdo.” 

Joel just grumbles and tosses a napkin her way. She wipes her mouth and keeps staring at him. Not because she’s waiting for an answer, but because there’s amusement sparkling in his eyes. Which happens more often now that they’d had a couple months to settle into Jackson. A laugh was coming, she could feel it. 

“Quit gawking at me and eat.” There’s a tell-tale waver in his voice. 

“No.” Ellie lightly kicks his shin beneath the table and that’s what sets him off. 

He tries to bite back a chuckle, but he gives in when it doesn’t work out, shoulders shaking. Ellie starts grinning at him from across the table, and he kicks her back with the tip of his boot. 

“Hey!” She breaks into giggles and retaliates. He lets her have the little victory. 

A small smile lingers on his face when he regains his composure. They sit in a comfortable silence as Ellie finishes the rest of her dessert, taking in the festivities around them. 

It isn’t long before a girl with dark hair approaches their table. She’s a ball of masked nerves. “Hi,” she greets. “Ellie, right?” She says it as if it’s possible for her to have forgotten. As if after they sat together at last week’s movie night, she hadn’t been thinking about her since. 

Ellie get’s uncharacteristically squirmy. “Oh. Hey, Dina.” 

Joel can’t believe it.

Dina tucks a flyaway behind her ear. “My old partner bailed, so I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna do the three-legged race with me. I think we’d make a better team anyways.” Then she glances at Joel. “If you wouldn’t mind me stealing her away for a bit.” 

“Take her,” Joel quips, making Dina laugh. 

Warmth rushes to Ellie’s cheeks as she stands. “Sure, let’s go.” 

The two of them jog over to get prepped for the race. Joel watches the whole while, warmth kindling in his chest at the fact that she was slowly finding her tribe. The race doesn’t start for another couple minutes, and when it does, Ellie and Dina burst off into first. It’s intense. The whole ordeal is a mess of laughter, stumbling, and flailing limbs. In the end, the duo end up placing second, crossing the finish line only to fall into a heap of giggles with their legs tied together. 

Joel stands from the picnic table with a grunt to throw away all the empty plates. He has every intention to sit back down, but notices a few frazzled volunteers carrying mops and towels. Then his eyes rove over to the long line standing at the drink stands. Adults check their watches, children fidget. A woman in an orange vest is talking to another woman managing the stand. He doesn’t realize is you until you turn away from her and beeline towards the community center, looking stressed. 

“Hey,” he calls out to a stout man wearing an apron. “Do you know what’s going on?” 

He’s surprised Joel caught on. Everyone else was carrying on as usual, carefree and unaware. “There was a spill at the community center. You know Mr. Robertson’s special Summer Fest punch?” he asks in a thick Brooklyn accent, Joel nods because he’d heard the rave. Apparently it was made especially for the festival. “Kitchen’s flooded with it. I didn’t have time to build an ark,” he jokes.  

Joel wrestles with himself. “I’ll go see if I can help.” 

By the time you exit the community center, gaze fixed over your shoulder, you crash into Joel. He instinctively reaches out to steady you, touch firm but gentle. “Whoa, easy there.” The low timbre of his drawl is enough to draw your mind away from all the noise. “You alright? Here, let’s get out of the way.” You let him pull you aside by your elbow. 

When you look into his eyes, there’s so many things you wish it was the appropriate time to say. It’s been cordial between the two of you, but it always seemed like he was in a constant state of backing away, like an animal scared of giving into a primal craving.  

There was always a reason why he couldn’t stay in your presence longer than he did. He had to get back to Ellie, or turn in early for his patrol shift the next day, or some other excuse. Even during the game nights you hosted, he would always leave before his belly was full and the real fun was about to begin. When everyone was finally free of the day’s worries and truly ready to talk, laugh, and let everything ride on the toss of a dice. 

He’d resigned himself to enjoying you in the little here and there, the moments in between. So much so that even Ellie had begun to notice. It was in the way he never allowed himself to lean in too close whenever you were at his side. Or never fully crawled out of his shell no matter how many times you smiled sweetly or let your fingertips brush his forearm. 

“Does anything hurt?” He asks more intently. As he scans you over, he notices your clothes. The lower portion of your vest and the thighs of your flared jeans are stained with a wet, dark substance. 

“I’m fine, Joel.” You pull away from him with more force than necessary, feeling guilty for the way he swallows and takes a step back. “Sorry.” You release a heavy exhale, tears welling in your eyes with a dull sting. “I’m ruining everyone’s night.” 

Joel frowns. “No you’re not. Tell me what happened.” 

“I was trying to transfer the extra beverage dispenser onto the wagon so I could wheel it out to the drink stand, but it slipped out of my grip,” you explain. “The lid came off and the punch spilled everywhere.” You wipe your tears away quickly, as if they’ll stain too. 

“Accidents happen,” Joel’s tone is steady like scripture, tenderness peeking through just enough to cling onto. “Everybody’s fine. The world's still turning.”

Nobody had reacted in an extreme manner. There were gasps and startled jumps, but assurances came rushing in as the janitorial volunteers insisted that they’d get everything cleaned up. Everyone in that kitchen knew that there were worse things in life than spilled juice. Sure, it was upsetting, considering the time Mr. Robertson spent and the people looking forward to drinking more, but it was a small mistake in the grand scheme of things. But when your heart is already heavy and your mind is tangled with other concerns, those little mishaps feel like the most devastating ones. 

There was a directness about Joel, though, that eased away the guilt crawling beneath your skin. It was like he understood what screwing up truly was and this was many light years from it. 

Dina spots Joel in the distance and points him out to Ellie. “There he is over there.” 

Their smiles fall from their faces when they get closer and realize you’re crying. “Holy shit, what happened?” Ellie looks between you and Joel, worry etched onto her face. 

“I just made a stupid mistake.” You sniffle, trying to regain your composure, not wanting to worry them.  There was always something unavoidably daunting about seeing adults cry. 

“You girls stay here with her for a second. I’ll be right back,” Joel instructs. 

A new song starts up by the live band that’s playing. It’s an instrumental rendition of Every Breath You Take. A decent crowd has gathered, nibbling on sourdough and nodding to the melody. Some people are wrapped in each other’s arms. Joel soaks it all in as he navigates back to the racing lawn. 

Tommy claps him on the back when he makes it and Joel returns the gesture. “You enjoying yourself, man?” Tommy asks. 

“Yeah,” he says distractedly. “There was a spill at the community center, so no more punch. You think you can get everybody on the same page?” 

“Copy that.” 

Tommy’s voice carries through the megaphone as Joel makes his way back to you, the announcement fading with each step. 

“Howdy, folks. Some of you may have already heard, but in case you haven’t, there’s been a little spill and we are unfortunately all out of Mr. Robertson’s world famous punch for the night. We apologize if you didn’t get the chance to try it, but I promise we’ll figure out a way to make it up to y'all. In the meantime, I heard the lemonade and ice tea ain’t half bad.” 

His words blur into the background as Joel makes it back to you. There are a few disappointed groans, but nobody is completely devastated by the news. They keep carrying on just as he knew they would. 

Tears no longer streak your face when Joel makes it back, Ellie and Dina seeming to have lifted your spirits a little more. 

“Do you wanna go get cleaned up?” Joel suggests. 

Now that you’re thinking about it, the feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin is beginning to grow uncomfortable. You take a deep breath at the thought of walking home, away from Summer Fest, all the energy, all the fun. Joel sees the disappointment on your face. 

“I can go with you,” he offers.

•••

The walk to your house is quiet, the sounds of the night's festivities now distant. The porch steps creak gently under your weight as the two of you ascend them. Joel watches as you unlock the door, but finds himself cemented as you step inside. Confusion, appreciation, frustration, and want are all amalgamated into one look directed right his way. Without saying a word, you head further inside, leaving the door open. 

Joel’s hands twitch at his sides like he’s a live wire wrought with energy. Bugs would fly in if he didn’t do something—that’s the justification he creates. You’re halfway to the laundry room when you hear the front door shut behind him as he follows after you. 

The living room is illuminated by dim lamplight as he walks through. A quick glance into the kitchen gives him sight of one of Ellie’s more recent drawings stuck to the refrigerator door with a smiley face magnet. It's a portrait of your face that you agreed to sit for one lazy afternoon while Joel was away on patrol. 

The air smells like you. Understated and sweet, floral and earthen. Small plants line multiple windowsills despite how convinced you were that you couldn’t keep anything alive. The whole commune would be worse off without you and he’d be the first to wilter away. 

At the sound of a zipper and clothes brushing against skin, he stops his pursuit of you. Miles away even though you’re mere yards apart. All he has is your shadow, dancing in the dim light pooling out of the laundry room and into the hall with him. He backs himself into the cool wall and closes his eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Up and down and up again. An SOS in the middle of a sea when salvation was right within reach. It gets quiet after a while. No more running water, or cabinet doors, or shuffling around. 

“You can let me in, you know?” comes your voice, so light it’s almost nothing. Joel releases a shaky breath and opens his eyes to the sight of you, dawned in old shorts and a graphic tee. You wish he would say something, anything. Share a fraction of what’s going on in his mind. “I’m right here, Joel.” 

“I know. I see you.” There’s a defensive edge to his voice that’s wounded around the edges, as if he’s trying to accommodate the truth that burns within his ribcage, his stomach, beneath the entirety of his skin. 

“So now what?” You swallow your nerves, studying his face, his neck. “We’re just gonna keep seeing each other for the rest of our lives and that’s it? No knowing, no feeling, no experiencing?” You ask. “No loving?”  

One by one, the walls close in, until it feels like you’re standing toe to toe with nothing but words as weapons and honesty being the only way out. It’s not a fight he’s ready for. He can trek through the harshest winters, fight off monsters and all manner of men, but he’s defenseless in front of you.

There will be no victory, no rising from battle with a bloodied fist or blade, or immediate relief akin to the coming of spring. The only way out is to dig within, and he already knew what resided there. It was a matter of carving it out and laying it on an altar for you to see as you did the same. It’s not a fight at all, it's a sacrifice. All risk with probable reward. 

“I don’t want that to be all that we do.” You’ve never heard Joel speak so quietly. It’s as if there’s Infected lurking nearby and he doesn’t want to be devoured. “Think about you too much.” 

“I was starting to think you didn’t like me at all. Not like how I like you,” you say. 

Joel swallows thickly, warm all over. “How do you like me?” 

You push out of the laundry room doorway to step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt, the beating of his heart. You let it thrum against your palm until a shallow breath slips past his lips, then you move to cup his stubbled jaw, lightly brushing your thumb over his lower lip. The urge to touch you back grows so great that he finally gives in and lets both of his strong hands settle on your waist.  

Joel can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he leans in towards you, studying your face, searching for any sign that this might be some elaborate ruse. Instead, he finds something so poignant that he doesn’t have the words to define. It’s as terrifying as it is wonderful to, for once, be unable to size up what he’s up against. 

You close the space in between you with a softness that takes his breath away. Bared heart meeting bared heart. Joel’s lips are gentle and unhurried, every second savored and not a single one missed. You try to focus but it feels like you’re falling and flying all at once. Then his fingers dig into your waist a little harder, a silent plea to stay there with him, the warmth of his kiss, the firmness of his body as he pulls you closer. 

Your hands find their way to the back of his neck to play with the hair curled at his nape. The kiss deepens not in urgency but a shared understanding. A promise sealed in the way your bodies fit together. And then, slowly, deliberately, Joel eases back, lips lingering on yours for a heartbeat longer until there’s a slight space in between again. Your breaths mingle as he rests his forehead against yours, thumb stroking tender circles on your waist. 

When you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, wondering if you can feel that two worlds having converged into one, buzzing with a newness that’s as beautiful as all the words you’d kept bottled inside. 

•••

It hadn’t taken much. Just a hug and a few soft kisses pressed to the underside of his jaw. When Joel’s grumbling finally subsided, it made way for the soothing ripple of the river. You’d settled along the bank and stretched out a few blankets when you first arrived. An hour seemed to pass in the matter of a few seconds, laughter, conversations and all. Now the sun creeps closer and closer to the horizon up in the ombre sky. 

It wasn’t any fault of your own that you’d asked Joel if the date could extend a little longer. It’d been a month of getting to see him in this light, open and unguarded, generous with giving those slow, easy smiles. Willing to lay down across your lap like this when you asked sweetly enough. 

The small mouth of a fish breaks the surface of the water as you trace along his hairline, disappearing by the time you run the pad of your finger down his nose. His lips twitch as he continues to ward off sleep. This time, there’s no stopping a soft laugh from rising up your throat. That’s all it takes for his eyes to flutter open, blinking until they’re able to focus on the soft upturn of your lips. No sooner do they avert to the sky, assessing the fleeting light. 

“We gotta head back now,” his voice is gruff. When he moves to sit up, you place a delicate hand on the center of his chest and he settles back down with a sigh. “C’mon, sweetheart, the sun’s setting. I don’t want you out here in the dark.” 

Packing up and riding back to the commune meant this moment would be resigned to a memory. “A few more minutes won’t hurt,” you insist. 

Before Jackson and before you, every second was about enduring to the next. Life was an endless onwards, onwards, onwards reverberating through his veins. Slowing down was always a risk until you showed him that sometimes life’s most worthwhile moments were in the stillness. Somedays that was easier to remember than others, but he sure did put in an effort. 

“I think you’re enjoying this more than I am anyways,” you tease. The corners of his lips quirk upwards before he can stop them. 

You continue on like that, tracing his face, occasionally glancing up at the snow-capped peaks of the mountains. Then an animal catches your attention across the way, lean and tall with short antlers protruding from its head. You suck in a breath of pleasant surprise, and Joel startles upright thinking the worst. His shoulders relax when he sees the creature. It bends its neck down to nibble at something in the grass until deciding to gallop away. 

“Just a mule deer.” He gives you a look. 

“I know, sorry. I get excited.” You offer an apologetic smile and he's reminded of how beautiful you look in the light of the setting sun, features aglow. He doesn’t say anything, just soaks you in here and now. An airiness fills your chest. 

He stands with a groan, extending a helping hand back down to you. When you’re steady on your feet, he takes your chin in one gentle hand and tilts your head back so he can align his lips with yours. The kiss is brief, and he follows it up with a soft peck.  

“Will you let me take you back home now?” he questions. “Ellie’s gonna have our heads if we’re late for game night. Especially when she’s choosing the line up.” 

•••

No heads roll that night. Plenty of dice do, while Uno cards are slapped onto the coffee table, and Jenga blocks fall. Tommy, Maria, Dina, and your uncle Nate, eventually file out of Joel’s house, leaving the three of you alone. Ellie feigns sleep on the couch as soon as it’s time for cleanup, and dozes off for real as you and Joel start taking care of everything yourselves. 

He steps up behind you as you’re standing at the kitchen sink, snaking his arms around your middle. A curious hum rises up your throat as you lean back into him. 

“I think somebody cheated during Jenga tonight,” he hushes against the shell of your ear, relishing the way you shiver at the warmth of his breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

Joel noses at the back of your head. “So you weren’t the one touchin’ me during that last round?” he asks. “Scratching my back, squeezing my thigh.” 

“It was innocent,” you insist. “It's a stressful game, I was just trying to ease your nerves. How was I supposed to know your hands would get all shaky?” 

A sudden chuckle shakes his chest, sending a ripple of warmth through you. “Ease my nerves? We weren’t even on the same team.” His fingers squeeze your hips in quick, gentle pulses, making you arch into him in a spell of helpless giggles. Joel evades your attempts to grab his wrists, but shows you mercy when you turn around, looking up at him through your lashes like you could do no wrong. 

“You’re lucky I happen to like you an awful lot.” He places both hands on the counter behind you, effectively caging you in. 

You smooth your hands up his chest, admiring the soft lines by his eyes, the handsome bump of his nose. “I know. I’m the luckiest person alive.” 

“No, that’s me,” Joel whispers. 

He’s certain of it. 

- 

Thank you so much for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts, it’s my favorite thing.

[theheelerhouse]

Autistic Littles!

Hello there! This post is for caregivers who care for littles who are autistic. Here's some ways to help with meltdowns or times when autism is being meaner than usual! (All from my personal experience as someone with autism! Not everyone is the same!)

First, let's start with some of the possible warning signs of a meltdown! 1. Sensory Issues worse than usual -> Textures may be described as "wrong" or "bad" -> Things may be perceived as louder than they actually are -> Things may be perceived as brighter than they actually are -> Room feels like it's closing in around you 2. May become more irritable -> May be more prone to snapping or having an attitude -> Could possibly be described as more "stubborn" 3. Trouble communicating -> Being non-verbal for a prolonged amount of time -> Trouble expressing feelings or emotions -> Could also speak faster than usual or slower than usual -> Saying things like "I don't know what's wrong" or "I can't figure out what's happening" 4. Difficulty taking care of self -> Forgetting to eat/not wanting to -> Not sleeping as they normally would -> Not having the motivation or energy to do basic tasks 5. Isolation -> This is a big warning sign! -> Not wanting to go out/leave the house/leave their room -> Struggling when they do leave their space 6. Increase in stimming (whether super noticeable stims, or more passive ones) -> Hand flapping, rocking, mouth popping, hair fidgeting, fidgeting with hands, etc These are some of the possible warning signs, but everyone is different. Now, here's some ways you can help a little experiencing this.

~Be patient and understanding. Autism can be scary outside of littlespace, but it can be scarier when little. Try not to get angry or frustrated. ~Avoid yelling or any other loud noises ~Don't force them to talk or communicate. Sometimes it's better to just have someone there ~Listen if they do try and communicate their needs. ~Going along with the one above, but don't feel hurt or like you did something wrong if they ask to be left alone or tell you they need space. Sometimes having someone around is too much and they might just need to process their emotions on their own. ~Communicate on ways to help once the meltdown seems to subside ~Remember that everyone is different. What you've seen work for someone might not work for someone else. It varies (which is why communication is good) ~Try to give suggestions if sensory issues is something that's a main struggle ("Try changing into comfy clothes" "Try a different blanket" "Turn off the TV?" "Turn off the lights?") Just trying to figure out what helps and what doesn't ~Offer a distraction if that's what they need (Ask about hyperfixations, even if you already know the answers to the questions. One of the good ones for me that always seems to come up is dinosaurs <3)

Remember: It's okay if something you do doesn't help. That's how you learn and you know not to do that thing next time. It's okay <3 You're doing great

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations~ 40

Scorpio moons take really long to talk about themselves and their past. Especially when getting to know someone they are romantically interested in (I notice this more with the men) it’ll be years until you really start to know them. This is why many can view them as toxic.. but once you wait out their little game they are loyal to you for life.

Taurus moons would rather pretend they are happy and content than ask for help. This is why they are viewed as emotional stable (but really they’re just repressing a lot:( it’s okay to be not okay♥️)

Aries Venus people get turned on from arguing (especially if paired with a Scorpio Mars)

Fire mercuries were yelled at a lot for talking too loud

Moon in Leo’s and be SO toxic when insecure. Cockiness to the extreme.

Every Leo sun I meet I see attract so many people to them. They really are such magnetic people their energy gives people life (like the sun). As dramatic as they are their confidence is so refreshing & admiring to be around. Their confidence gives others confidence as well.

Virgo suns Leo Venus women smell soooo good usually. Every time I walked someone to smelled like heaven they had this combo.

Aquarius sun tend to mold into their environment. Their personality can become easily influenced by those around them. This is why it’s important for them to surround themselves around positive influences. (Their friend group can usually change them for the better or worse)

Mars in Aquarius folks love things that are out of the ordinary whether it be clothes, sex, people, friends ect. Anything that confuses them or shocks them they usually become obsessed with.

Uranus in the 3rd house sounds like such a smart placement! I never met one person with this placement so I’m so interested on what these people think. (If you have this placement talk about it in the comments 🤗)

Mercury retrograde people are FUNNY omg. For a placement that has a hard time communicating they are absolutely hilarious. They say the most original jokes, shit that makes you think “how do you even come up with that🤣” they are able to see things people normally overlook which makes them so witty.

All Scorpio placements have such piercing dark eyes (sun, moon, rising esp). Even if you have light colored eyes they still appear dark in a way idk how to explain it.

Scorpio risings love people who can hold eye contact. It’s like their secret way of communicating. Insecure types however I see completely avoid it.. but most I notice really dig it. (Especially when it’s their crush 😏..)

Leo risings can exaggerate things about themselves to impress others. They are very dazzling and engaging but you can sense a fakeness in how they present themselves at times. (You guys don’t have to be something you’re not to impress others you guys are so cool regardless 🫶🏽) I’ve seen a lot of people with this placement be actually really awkward and nerdy but most cover it up with a glamorous mask.

Water mercuries can sense when people have bad intentions. They are usually the first ones to see when someone is fake while others might miss it. (Can catch a bad vibe from someone everyone likes then later find out they were horrible people all along).

Moon in Aries women are so HOT. The men are hot as well but very immature and annoying most of the time.

Aqua moons I feel like are the most unconventional and eccentric of all the Aquarius placements. They on a different wavelength then us all.

Gemini Risings in school were usually getting trouble for talking too much or disrupting the class lol.

Sorry I took to long to post I’ve been violently sick all week ♥️🫶🏽

[fastandcarlos]

Leo’s Little Love : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the birth of your daughter was supposed to be the happiest moment for you and charles, but both of you forgot about leo too

Your little family had almost been complete for quite some time. You, Charles and Leo. The perfect trio. Why fix something that isn’t broke? Why add to the chaos of your crazy lives? Well, because you both couldn’t wait to become parents. 

It never was meant to be so soon, neither you or Charles had planned to fall pregnant quite so suddenly but your life had always been mayhem, and pregnancy was just another cog to add to the wheel of things that you needed to juggle together.  

It had been touch and go for quite some time as your baby’s arrival loomed. With just two weeks to go Charles had never been happier to see the start of the summer break which meant at last he could be glued to your side and be there just in case anything happened. 

Being at home was something that Charles very quickly got used to, laid out on the sofa with you tucked into his side. Charles didn’t always get his own way though, with Leo snuggled just underneath your bump to block Charles holding onto it. 

“I wonder how he’s going to be.” 

Your attention was pulled from your book when Charles spoke, following his gaze down to where Leo laid, snoring lightly with his eyes tight shut. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him. 

“I’m just thinking about when the baby arrives, do you think Leo will respond well to not being the centre of our attention anymore?” Charles questioned. 

Your eyes flickered between Charles and Leo and your bump as you pondered Charles’ question. Truthfully, it was something that you had never quite thought about before, but if there was one word that you’d use to describe Leo, it was definitely needy.  

“I think he’ll enjoy having someone else to be around,” you spoke after a few moments. 

“He’ll definitely love an extra body to cuddle up to.” 

It was almost as if he knew that you were talking about him, as Leo’s head lifted up and his wide eyes looked at you both as if to remind you that he could hear everything.  

“You know, I’ve got a feeling that Leo and this baby might just end up being the best of friends, I definitely think we’re going to have trouble on our hands.” 

Ever since that conversation you pictured how your family, or especially Leo, would adapt to the baby, counting down the days until all those dream scenarios became a reality.  

And just a couple of weeks later your little girl arrived. It was tougher than you could have ever imagined, but with Charles not leaving your side for the many hours that you were in labour for, your family was soon complete. Charles was an emotional mess beside you, but through his tears he knew that he’d just experienced the best moments of his entire life. 

You might’ve been a little bit bias, but your baby girl was the definition of perfect. Straight away you were drawn to her bright eyes, a striking resemblance to Charles’. They captured your attention, just like Charles’ had done many years ago when the two of you first met.  

And as Charles held her for the first time and you got your first look at the two of them side by side, you knew you had a daddy’s girl on your hands. She was instantly besotted, settled and comfortable in Charles’ strong hold, almost as if you were the one who was intruding on the moment between your husband and your child despite being the one to bring her into the world. 

“It’s a good job we’ve got Leo otherwise I think I’d be outnumbered at home with you two,” you joked as Charles made himself comfortable.  

You knew deep down though you wouldn’t have Leo for long, as the two of you arrived home with your daughter. It had been a couple of days since he got to see you and Charles, unaware that a new arrival was waiting on the other side of the door to greet him too. 

Together you took things slowly as you returned to your apartment, Charles took Leo into your bedroom whilst you settled in the living room with your daughter. Once you were sure that she was settled you called through to Charles who poked his head out from behind the bedroom door. 

“Are you absolutely sure about doing this now?” Charles nervously asked you. 

“Charles, we’re going to have to do it sooner or later. We might as well get it over with whilst they’re both pretty settled.” 

He trusted you more than anyone, and so Charles decided to open the bedroom door and allow Leo to come out. It was as if nothing was going on as if strolled through the apartment, that was until his eye was caught by the carrier that sat on your living room floor. Charles came over and sat beside you, his hand on your thigh as Leo began to inspect. 

Leo had a little sniff around the carrier as he familiarised with the something new that had entered his home. After giving him a moment you reached into the carrier and lifted your daughter out, holding her just in front of where Leo was. 

It took a little while for Leo to stop fussing over your daughter, looking up at you and Charles. His eyes told the two of you that he approved of your little girl, walking away from her once he was happy with what was going on. 

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.” 

Your words were truer than ever though that night as Charles laid on your bed with his daughter laid just beside him. You walked through after taking an overdue shower, surprised to see that there was another addition to your bed. They say that three is a crowd, but not in this case. 

Your heart felt like it could burst as your daughter laid between Charles on her left, and Leo on her right, his head almost touching hers as if to reassure her that he was right beside her too. 

Charles’ eyes knew exactly where you were looking. You were supposed to be annoyed that your side of the bed had been stolen, but instead it was a memory that you wanted to snapshot for the rest of your life. 

You were sure that you had never seen anything so beautiful in your life, Leo had made sure your daughter was well protected and surrounded by love. Even Charles couldn’t get as close to her as Leo was, firmly establishing himself as her number one. 

Just like you, Charles couldn’t fault the scene that was unfolding in front of you though. Things had gone better than either of you could have ever imagined, all of the concerns that Charles had had long been forgotten now that your family of four were all home together.  

“Why do I feel like we’re never going to be allowed near our daughter ever again?” Charles laughed across at you. 

“I think out of the three of us, she’s definitely Leo’s love before she’s ours,” you added, unable to wipe the smile from your face. “I think they’re going to be the best of friends.” 

Charles hummed in agreement with you, tilting his head down to watch them both once again. If he could pause time forever, he absolutely would. It was all that he had ever dreamt of, and so much more. 

“We’ve got the two most beautiful children in the world.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗