#in search of community and understanding no doubt

[byjove]

every month someone makes a post like “wow, I can’t believe there are gay rednecks. can’t believe there are gay people living in the rural Midwest or Deep South.” kill the classist in your brain

[chemicalarospec]

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[jarofstyles]

Blossom

In which Harry is hard but Y/N is his soft place to land. People have doubts over her being able to handle the alpha, considering her cashmere and tea like demeanor, but something about it evens out. 

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WC- 6.3k

Warnings- supernatural themes, wolfrry, possessive behavior, threats, obsessed tbh, soul mates, smut, biting, knotting, breeding, praise kink, worship!

—-

“My Blossom.” The alpha spoke lowly, watching as his mate approached him. Something was wrong- something was bothering her. He could smell it- and he didn’t like it. “Why are you wilted, my love?” 

It was his way of asking her why she was upset. Usually, she was upbeat. Chirpy. Cooing and grinning, moving slowly with the air of comfort radiating around her. Warmth was her aura, and people tended to feel it. Even Harry’s closed off demeanor had felt it the first time he had seen her- but today, she seemed to have cooled down.

Her scent was always the first indicator that something was amiss, the sweet honey and jasmine tinged with the smoke of a candle blown out too soon. It was the most obvious alert, but he could see it very clearly. She was trying to act alright, but that precious smile didn’t reach her eyes- and it pissed him off. If it were just a documentary bothering her, having accidentally stepped on a bee, burning a batch of cookies or something he could soothe away with a few purrs, she would say so. Communication was usually never an issue with them.

She didn’t come out and say it, meaning something had pissed her off.

Something he was going to deal with. 

“I’m okay, my Moon.” Stepping into his vacinity she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, hands finding his chest with another weaker smile. Like he wouldn’t see that her eyes weren’t crinkled just the tiniest bit like normal. “It is nothing of importance. I’m fine.” 

Of course he didn’t buy it. Pawing at her waist, he backed her up into the counter before lifting her up on to it. His gaze was intense, searching her thoroughly as he tried to get it out of her. There were no marks or bruises on her, no sign of physical pain, so that was something- but an emotional bruise could hurt just as much, if not worse. 

His hands settled on her waist possessively, pulling her closer as he towered over her seated form on the countertop. "Look at me." He growled lowly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deceit. He could smell the lie on her, the faint scent of bitter herbs hiding beneath her usual sweet aroma. Nothing displeased him more than her pain. Emotional, physical, it irritated him more than most would consider rational- but he tried to be, for her benefit. Y/N hated making him upset at all. She did whatever she could to avoid tripping the delicate wire that was his temper. Not because he was ever aggressive with her, but he was quick to satiate his thirst for revenge. An eye for an eye. The preferred method for the mother of the pack was peace, calm, order. The complete opposite, balancing him out. This time, though, he didn’t seem too keen on letting it be brushed under the rug. 

 "Who upset you?" His tone left no room for argument, his alpha voice rumbling slightly as he demanded answers. The slightly sharp tone was paired with the sweet stroke over her cheek, trying to sooth any sting the tone may have. Harry didn’t want her to feel like he was upset with her, but not knowing what upset the love of his life was infuriating.

“I am alright, Alpha.” She whispered, cupping his face in her hands. “It is simply the wind bringing in the weeds. Soon it will blow over.” Her fingertips scratched slightly over his stubble, letting out a soft little sigh for him. Her sweet, stubborn man. The leader of the pack had to be, and he was born for it- but it was hard to calm the fires he was impulsive to start when it came to her. “I was made aware that some members of our pack simply do not understand our dynamic, my Moon. And that is alright.” It did upset her, though. He could smell that and she knew it, but she also knew his temper. Harry usually was a fair alpha to his pack despite his temper, especially since she had mated with him, and she didn’t want him losing his head over something so trivial.

"Blossom..." He caught her wrist gently but firmly, bringing her hand down from his face to press a kiss against her palm. Her sweet touches only partially distracted him from the rising storm inside. The wolf pressed against his mind, insisting they protect their mate from the unseen threats, pacing like he was locked in a cage. Always a fighter, it had still taken Harry by surprise how bloodthirsty he could become when it came to Y/N.

 "You think I won't gut every creature who looked at you wrong today?" The words were a dark whisper against her skin, the alpha tone heavier. Enough to make her let out an almost silent whine as she squirmed just a bit, giving him a look. “No, none of that.” Tapping against her chin, he searched her eyes. “You come in looking wilted and sad. Who has taken your time in the sun, sweet one?” Nudging her nose with his own, he knew it was a dirty play to make her fess up, but she responded to his sweetness. “Hm? Just let me know what was said.”

“Harry.” She sighed, letting her eyes close. “It truly is trivial. I promise. I had just…” Swallowing the lump that had materialized in her throat, she leaned into him and let their forehead press together. The closeness usually helped. “People have been talking… questioning me today, actually. About if I think I will be able to handle you at your worst.” She started off slow, running her hands down his shoulders. Trying to keep him calm, feeling his body tense up as she spoke. His hackles were raised. 

“Some of the warriors, they were speaking to me in the great hall. They were warning me of how you are during times of war. In battle. About how you almost went feral, and they said that I seem very… soft.” It didn’t offend her that they thought she was soft because she was. Y/N took pride in it. But softness didn’t equate to being weak. “They had said in passing they had expected you to mate with a fierce warrior. Someone with more bite, who could keep up with you. I suppose it upset me because I am not that. I’ve never wanted to be. I know my strengths, but.. Hearing that some of our pack think we are not well matched? It displeases the soul connection.” To her wolf. It had angered her, and Y/N hated feeling angry. The inky black feeling swirling through her body was not a common one she felt and it was one she wanted to rid herself of.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he processed her words, his grip tightening slightly on her hips. The audacity of any of the pack to question their bond, to doubt the strength of his gentle mate... Considering the kindess she showed every day? The meals she planned, the baskets she had started to put together for families expecting pups? Did they really not know how badly his nerves needed some calm, some sweetness? Y/N was his match in every sense of the word. The goddess wouldn’t have paired them together if that wasn’t the case. Hearing the surely censored version from her -because she was still being a pack mother and protecting them-, it set his blood aflame with barely contained fury. The disrespect. The disgusting lack of gratitude. It was unfathomable.

 "Listen to me very carefully, Blossom." His voice was velvet over steel, each word precisely enunciated while trying to keep it softer for her sake. "Our connection goes far beyond mere strength or fierceness of a warrior. Your fierceness lies in putting up with me.” He tried to soften his tone with a joke but it didn’t really work. The anger was festering and he wanted to know who exactly said it. Most of all, he wanted her to never let those words bother her because none of them knew what he needed. Only she would ever have the slightest clue of what he would need.

 “You are my anchor in every storm, my light in the darkest of nights. The only reason I have not set out to find who it is that is spreading this disgusting lie, this delusion that anyone but you would ever be remotely capable of knowing my needs, is because you soothe me. Like your teas do for you, your presence does for my entire being. Wolf and all.” Needing the skin contact, he slipped his hand under her top, feeling the warmth of her back. “Do you see? You understand how I just calmed, just by touching your bare skin?” His voice dropped to a rasp, shaking his head. “They will never know what I need. You, my mate from the stars, are the only thing I will ever need.”

Y/N let out a sigh in response, relaxing a little as he spoke his truth to her. Not once did she doubt that he thought these things, not once did she doubt her connection to him- but it had hurt to hear people think she wasn’t the correct woman for him. That they thought he could do better. Some of it was from obvious jealousy, considering some of the very wolves saying the things were warriors themselves, but it still did not feel good. The alpha female would be the first to admit she was sensitive, she always had been- but it also bothered her to know they doubted their alpha’s bond.

She could see why they’d be jealous. Harry was powerful in every sense of the word. He was handsome, intelligent, strong, able to lead effortlessly. There was nothing about him that would turn off a wolf looking for a mate to protect them and provide the best life- but he was hers. Y/N owned his heart.

His heart ached as he felt her relax against him, her warmth that he adored so much seeping into his hand. He hated that she had to hear such nonsense, hated that it hurt her- lies. Pure and utter shit lies that had him feeling the flames of anger flicking back to his stomach. "I swear to the moon and back, Blossom, no one knows me like you do. You see things in me that I don't even see myself.” His mate would never be able to truly know how much it had shocked him from their first meeting until now, how she could read him. How she knew what he needed at all times, even if he tried to deny it of himself.  

“And as for needing someone stronger, fiercer... that is complete shit. They have no idea what you do for me. How you uplift me, keep me strong on your own terms. They don't understand that your gentle strength is the very thing that keeps me grounded."

Harry's voice dropped to a whisper, his breath ghosting over her ear as he pulled her impossibly closer. "You are the shield that guards my feral nature from emerging and becoming everyone’s problem. You saved me from losing myself. You, my love, are the soft melody that soothes the savage beast within me." His instincts urged him to protect her, to hunt down those who dared speak ill of his mate- the mother of the pack, no less. Yet, he held back, knowing she needed gentleness, not brutality. It would be dealt with, no doubt, but she would be put above that. That’s the way it would always remain. "Anyone can battle, but only you can give me peace. Only you can quiet the storm inside me."

As he whispered those words into her ear, he felt her melt into him, her smaller frame pressing against his built one like a puzzle piece. Her scent seemed to wrap around him, sweet honey and jasmine filling his senses- calming the beast within him further. Her breathing hitched slightly, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she nuzzled into his neck, seeking out comfort and reassurance that only he could offer her.

The sound of her soft whimper was music to his ears, the gentle vibrations traveling through his chest as he held her close. He responded with a purr of his own,  stroking her back soothingly. His scarred hand rubbed the bare skin with comforting circles as he pressed kisses to her hair. "Hush, my love... my gentle soul. None of that matters. What matters is you and I, our bond, our love. Nothing and no one can ever change that." His voice was a warm blanket, wrapping around her and keeping the chill of doubt at bay.

Harry could feel her frame shaking slightly, not from cold but from the emotional turmoil she had endured today trying to release itself. It infuriated him that anyone had made his angel of a mate feel this way, but he focused on soothing her instead of hunting down the culprits immediately.  If this had been before she had worked her magic on him, any other true problem, he would have snapped. Attacked. But his priorities had shifted. "Blossom..." He murmured, his voice low and rumbling, "Look at me, please."

Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as they met his gaze. The sight of her grief pierced his heart like a dagger, his instincts yet again screaming at him to eliminate whatever had caused her distress. But he swallowed his fury, choosing instead to drink in the beauty of her vulnerable expression. "There she is," he whispered, thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that dared to trickle down her soft cheek. "My fierce, tender flower."

He pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her jawline, and finally her lips- each one a silent promise of his unwavering love and protection. His touch was worship, as if he were praising every contour of her face with his lips. Perhaps he was. It’s what an angelic being like her deserved. Too fucking sweet for the likes of the beasts that tried to steal that sweetness from her. It belonged to him. She belonged to him as he belonged to her, and that was going to be made very clear.  Between each kiss, he murmured soothing words against her skin, peppering his own affection in the ways he knew how. How she’d taught him. "You're perfect. Made of the stars. Brave. Mine. Always mine." His hands cradled her face, his calloused thumbs caressing her smooth skin in a soothing rhythm.

He loved her with a power that had previously been unknown to him- and now that he was more than familiar with it? The people who had made her question it were going to find out. 

——

When Harry walked into the training ground, they knew immediately. It was a change in the air, like the birds stilling in the trees. Nature knew he was angry. With his broad shoulders back and his expression like stone, it was hard to miss. The harsh lines of his face were accentuated by his jaw ticking slightly. His eyes were dark, almost black, his entire body language screamed "danger". He was silent, deadly, and someone was in for it. No one spoke as he entered, the wolves freezing mid-training. They knew that look.

Each step echoed off of the trees deliberately, measured, as he approached the front of the training grounds. His presence was a storm front, cold and heavy enough that the other wolves began to shift nervously. He didn't need to bark orders, didn't need to raise his voice. The pure menace rolling off him in waves was more than enough. "Who was speaking about my mate?" His voice was quiet in volume, but it cut through the air like a blade.

The group exchanged uneasy looks. None wanted to be the one to answer. They had seen Harry lose his shit before, but never like this. Never so controlled. So dangerously still. It was silent for a while, looks nervously thrown to one another. They knew what he was talking about, but no one wanted to speak out. Not when he looked that angry. It took a few minutes of uncomfortable silence before one of the bravest, or perhaps dumbest, Grace, stepped forward slightly. "Alpha?" She tested the waters carefully. "We were- it was just chatting shit. Teasing. You know how it goes." She tried to laugh it off, but it fell flat. Nothing about this was a joking matter. Multiple people winced at her attempt to try and be casual with the Alpha, but there was nothing they could do. 

The forest seemed to echo the unnatural silence as Harry's eyes snapped to her. "So you think she's not good enough?" His voice was deadly soft, head tilting slightly. "You think you have the right to question her worth? To question our bond?" He took a step closer to Grace, towering over her. Not just in physical presence, but in power. His eyes flashed with a primal fury that made her take a step back. "She's the heart of this pack. The very air that we breathe. And you dare to speak ill of her?" His voice rose, reverbing through the trees. "I should rip out your throat for even thinking such things, let alone trying to speak them out loud. Cut out your tongue. I thought you would be able to put pathetic jealousy to the side and embrace having a pack mother, but I overestimated some of you." The other wolves shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very interested in the ground. They knew he was correct. His anger wasn’t misplaced. No alpha took well to their mates being threatened.

"I should line you up and demand the names of anyone whose goal was to make my mate upset. Make you suffer the same amount of days as the tears I’ve cleansed her face of. It’s what anyone deserved after disrespecting not only the pack mother, but the alpha himself. Any disrespect on her is a disrespect to me.” His snarl was deep as he watched them flinch. It pleased him, in a sick way. They should be scared to upset her. 

“I think you all have gotten a bit too comfortable with her kindness. I am not as kind as her. I have a penchant for revenge and you all know how I handle that in this pack. I should kill you all for trying to place doubt on my soul tie.” He said after a long moment, his snarling voice returning to that deadly calm. "But I won't. Because she asked me not to. My mate is kind, forgiving. Things I am not. She thinks you're misguided, not malicious." 

He looked out at the group, his gaze icy and unforgiving. "But let me make one thing clear. If I ever hear such talk again, if I ever sense even a hint of disrespect towards my mate, the matriarch of this god damn pack? There will be consequences." He paused, letting his words sink in. There was no denying that Harry would make good on his word. He always did.

Harry took one last glance around the circle of startled wolves, ensuring his message had sunk in thoroughly. His stance remained rigid, hands clenched at his sides as he battled the lingering urge to discipline physically, let out the anger. But for his mate's sake, he restrained himself. She was asleep in their bed with swollen eyes, and that simply wouldn’t do. Getting back to her was the priority. "Understood?" He growled, awaiting their confirmation with barely concealed impatience. The weight of his gaze pressed down on them, demanding verbal acknowledgment of the unspoken rules he'd just laid out.

The chorus of “Yes, Alpha.” Wasn’t good enough for his wolf- but it would do for now. 

—— 

As Harry slipped back into their shared room, he moved with a practiced quiet, not wanting to disturb his sleeping mate. The soft moonlight filtering through the closed sheer curtains illuminated her peaceful form, curled up beneath the blankets like a little lump. Her body was turned away from the door, one of his pillows between her arms as she snoozed- most likely to get his scent close. He shouldn’t have had to leave her at all so she had the scent from the source, but it had been a necessary sacrifice. 

Quickly shedding his clothes, the fabric rustled softly in the still room as he kicked it to the side. The laundry basket would have to wait for tomorrow. With no shame of his nudity he carefully climbed into bed beside her, slipping under the blankets to share his body heat with her. He inched closer, his larger frame spooning around her smaller one as he placed a few kisses to her bare shoulder.

Rubbing his nose into the crook of her neck, the man took a deep inhale of the purest source of her. The familiar sweet scent of honey and jasmine soothed his frayed nerves, undoing some of the tension that had his bones creaking. There was no cure like the feeling of the one person in the world that was hand plucked by the goddess herself. Nothing could compare. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest as his hand rested over her soft stomach. Even in sleep, she let out a content sigh and wiggled back against him, seeking out his warmth. His hardness pressed against her backside, but he ignored it for now. This moment was about comfort, not lust.

“Where were you?” Well… with her not as asleep as he thought, he let out a hum as he inhaled her scent again. Y/N was sleepy, sure, but her hands rested over his own rubbing over the backs of them, over his knuckles and fingers.

"Training grounds." He murmured lowly, exhaustion in his voice. He knew she was checking his hands for bruises, for cuts, his knuckles for any splits. She always did that when he was gone too long. He loved that she worried about him, that she checked his body for damage- but he had promised not to lose his temper and torture anyone in her name tonight. He had made good on that promise- even when it was extremely hard. "Why are y’up?" He called softly. "Are you alright?"

“I’m alright, my Moon.” She nodded, leaning back into him. “I just can not manage to sleep well when you aren’t in the bed with me. Especially when I don’t know wherever it is you’ve run off to. Sneaky”

"Mmhmm." He hummed skeptically, pulling her into him. He knew she wasn't sleeping well without him, but he had to handle it soon or he would go crazy letting he anger fester. "M’sorry, my petal. I had to make sure they knew you were to be respected. That is all." He asked, his voice low as he felt her fingers splaying over his knuckles again, searching for any signs of injury as she was given the other one. 

"Stop worrying about my hands, love." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as he interlaced his fingers with hers deliberately, halting her inspection. "They're fine. I kept my word, didn't fight anyone." He reiterated softly, squeezing her hand gently to reassure her. His breath tickled her ear as he nestled closer, feeling himself settle a little bit. This was the meaning of life, he was pretty positive. To be laid up in bed with the love of his life. To protect her and keep her happy. All of those things felt like the best thing to do.

She let out a content sigh, her body melting into his as she squeezed their intertwined fingers. The relief was palpable, her shoulders sagging slightly as the tension drained from her muscles. "Thank you, Harry." She whispered, her voice thick with both the interrupted sleep and multitude of emotions. "I know it's hard for you to hold back, especially when it comes to protecting me. But... thank you for keeping your promise."

"For you? Anything." The Alpha mumbled into her hair. The way she trusted him, even when he was clearly wound up... it meant everything. "Go back to sleep, beautiful Blossom." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Need your sleep." But he didn't move away yet.

Unable to ignore the hardness pressing insistently against her ass cheeks, Y/N squirmed, grinding back against him. Sleep was not on her mind now that he had come back. The breathy little moan that escaped her lips betrayed her body's awakening desires, even if her mind was still fuzzy with sleep. Harry growled softly into her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he stiffened further against her. "Sleeping beauty," he murmured huskily, "don't wiggle your perfect little ass like that unless you want me to do something about it."

 She needed the sleep, sure, but if she tempted him… Harry would give her what she needed. What she deserved. His body was hers in whatever way she needed it. The erection was a natural reaction to being so close to her own naked body, but he knew that if she continued he would have little time before he lost restraint and pushed into her plush little cunt.

He waited for her response. Would she go back to sleep like an angel? Or would she grind against him again, seeking out friction? His body was tense, his length throbbing against her backside. If she gave one little hitch of her hips, he would spread those lush thighs apart and slip inside. He was an Alpha, he had a lot of repressed feelings from today and he hasn’t been able to completely release them yet. He was already hanging by a thread. The fact she was naked and his body was wrapped around her wasn't helping any bit of self control he had.

As she remained still for a few moments, he let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. But then, without warning, she gave a subtle shift of her hips, rubbing her ass against his cock- and what was left of Harry's control snapped like a twig. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pushed her thighs apart and notched his head against her entrance. "Fuck, baby..." He hissed, feeling how sweet and sticky she was. Her cunt was always perfect but he especially appreciated it today. Slick, like she had been waiting for this exact thing. Always waiting for his cock. “S’good. Good little pussy…” The words were slurred against her throat, holding her still as he pushed the thick tip further into her.

Her lips parted in a silent gasp as he entered her, back arching slightly from the sudden- but welcomed- intrusion. Though they'd made love countless times, the sheer size of him never failed to take her breath away. One of her hands went for his wrist, nails digging in as she anchored herself. A whimper escaped her, muffled against the pillow as he buried himself deeper. The feeling of him inside of her was more satisfying than anything else she had experienced- Having her mate so close to her was a dream. She felt her inner walls flutter around him, welcoming him home.

Her reaction spurred him on, his hips starting to move in a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust was measured, designed to make her feel as good as possible. It was all instinct at this point, knowing exactly how she liked it because they were designed in the stars to compliment each other. His forehead pressed against her shoulder, breath coming in short pants as he focused on the feeling of her wrapped around snugly him. "So fucking tight." He groaned, his fingers flexing on her soft skin. "Missed this. Missed you. Missed being inside my girl..." It didn’t matter if he had fucked her awake this morning, it was never enough. “So good.” His voice was ragged, filled with hints of that primal need that had been clawing at him all day long.

"Sweetest flower..." The Alpha breathed against her ear, thrusting slower but deeper. Each careful push hitting that spot inside her that made her mewl. His free hand slid down to toy with her clit, knowing exactly how sensitive she was there, feeling her tighten up around him as he found the swollen little thing. Her slick coated both his cock and fingers, the sound of their fucking filling the quiet room. "Feel how perfectly you take me? You were made just for me..." His teeth nipped at her neck, holding her in place while he continued to worship her body. “This pussy was made t’take this cock all the way in.”

"Harry..." She panted, her voice going up an octave. He knew that voice. Knew that she was getting there. Knew that she was loving how he filled her up. Her inner muscles tightened around his length, sucking him deeper. 

"Mmhmm?" He hummed, his fingers swirling around her clit faster. He knew her body better than she knew herself sometimes. Like how she liked to be touched. Like how she liked to be kissed. Like how she liked to be stretched around him. He could hear it in her voice every single time, the slight hitching, the way she was panting his name. He knew she was begging without actually begging. 

"You need something, petal?" He growled, his fingers pausing their swirling motion. "You need me deeper? Harder? More?" He flexed his hips experimentally, pushing a little deeper inside her. "You need me to mark you up again?" He licked over the side her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as it got thicker, sweeter with the arousal she leaked all over him.

The reaction was obvious to him as she clenched up around his cock, letting out a keening little whine. She wanted to be marked up, to be bitten again. Nothing would compare to the bond mark she had, but she loved the snap of pain. More marks and bruises on her to show how well loved and fucked she was. Just because she was sensitive and sweet didn’t mean she wasn’t just as  jealous and possessive as her mate.

Harry's response was immediate, his teeth sinking into the tender skin of her neck. He held her in place with his arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand gripping her hip as he fucked her harder, deeper. The bite was hard enough to leave a mark, his canines piercing her skin as he claimed her once more. "Mine. My perfect Blossom… All I ever need." The growl of his voice vibrated against her neck, hot breath panting against her. "Always mine." He sucked at the mark, his tongue soothing the bite before he bit her again, this time on the other side of her neck.

"F-Fuck..." She whimpered, the sharp stings of his bites making her clench around his cock with such intensity that he could barely hold himself back. She melted into him completely, one hand reaching up to grip his hair, nails digging into his scalp, pulling him closer. "Harry- I love you." The words were panted out as her hips moved with his rhythm, meeting each thrust desperately.

"Love you too, baby. So much." He kissed the marks, his hips snapping forward and back at a bruising pace. "Gonna fill you up, mark you inside and out." His fingers found her clit again, pinching and rolling the sensitive nub as he fucked her towards her building orgasm. "Cum f’me, Blossom. Squeeze my dick with that sweet little cunt. Show me who it belongs to." The order was low and commanding, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.

The sound of their flesh meeting filled the room along with her breathy moans and his gravelly growls. Every stroke of his cock felt like heaven, stretching and filling her completely. It was the way it was supposed to be, having him keep her full. His tongue grazed her new marks occasionally, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through her body.

His movements became more insistent, his cock swelling slightly. "Need your tight little pussy to milk me." His hand moved from her clit down to rub against the sensitive spot where they joined, feeling where his cock was stretching her open, where his knot had begun to slowly swell. "Need me to breed you deep and keep you filled?" His voice was raw with desire, knowing exactly what she craved. It’s precisely what she always wanted. His girl always wanted it, craved it just as much as he did.

"Mhm." She pushed back against him, taking him deeper. "Your knot, Harry..." She whined softly, spreading her thighs wider for him. "Want it inside me..." Her hips rolled back to meet his thrusts, her hole fluttering around him already. "Fill me up." She loved his knot. Loved how it stretched her out, how it locked them together, kept him as deep as he could get. It was possessive and dirty and she really, really loved it. “Harry-“ She moaned softly. “Want to be full of you. Please?”

"Fuck, my heart..." He groaned, his knot swelling larger as he fucked her with growing desperation. "Gonna lock you up with my knot. Give you what y’want." His voice was strained, words slipping off his tongue as he had no filter when he was inside of her. "Gonna make you cum on my dick, milk my knot. I'll keep you full of me all night. S’what you deserve." The thought of it was too much, his control snapping as he felt her slicked up pussy starting to convulse around him.

His knot swelled, thick and ready to take her as it pressed against her tight hole. Holding himself there for a moment, he savored the feeling of her, of her cunt trying to milk him for all he was worth- but he didn’t want to hold it from her any longer. With a grunt, he pushed forward, his knot seating itself inside her with a soft pop. He was trapped, locked inside her, unable to pull out even if he wanted to. And he never wanted to. He wanted to stay buried inside her, keeping her full and satisfied as he got to stay warm.

As his knot sealed them together, Y/N's orgasm crashed over her, her pussy clamping down around him like a vice as she let out a high pitched whine. "Fuck yes, cum on me. Give it all to me, my love." Harry groaned, grinding into her. He could feel her pulsing around him as he emptied himself deep inside her, marking her as thoroughly as possible. Each twitch of his cock sent another spurt of his seed flooding her, his hips making shallow grinding motions, ensuring every last drop stayed buried within her.

"Gods, you're the most beautiful thing to walk this plane of existence." He murmured, his lips finding her shoulder as his hips moved slowly, working them through it. "Look at you taking everything I give you...The most incredible woman alive. You are what I live for." Petting her hair back softly, his voice dropping lower as he felt her body relax around his knot. "Best I've ever had. You ruin me. I never want anything else."

She let out a soft little mewl, feeling the pulses of him emptying every drop in her. Intimacy like this was something she had never even fathomed, but it was everything needed. "Harry. My love." His name was like a purr, her body languid and happy. "You make me feel incredible. Always so sweet." Her voice was dreamy as she sunk into his embrace. "You know how to make me feel loved..." He made love to her body and her mind each and every time. I was impossible to not feel the adoration pouring off of him. "You always protect me. You are the best Alpha.” Turning her head, she met his eyes. “Kiss me, please.”

A soft, adoring smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shifted slightly to catch her lips in a tender kiss. One hand remained possessively on her hip while the other caressed her face. "How could I not protect my perfect mate? My everything?" He murmured against her lips before deepening the kiss, showing her exactly how much she meant. If he could figure out a way to hang the stars in an order she found pleasing, he would do so. He would rearrange the hours in a day if he had the power. Never in his life had he found a motivator like she had become for him. He would change the entire world just to see the ghost of a smile on her perfect lips. He would move mountains, shift tectonic plates, and rewrite the laws of physics if it meant seeing her happy. "You are my reason, Blossom." He whispered against her lips, his voice filled with an overwhelming amount of love and devotion. "My reason for breathing, for living, for being. You own all of my love.”

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 10

Added dividers because I felt like the time skip/scene change would become confusing without any indication of it.

I really need an answer on how y'all feel about Immortal x Dupli-kate cuz depending on the popular opinion stuff will change 🤐 I'm willing to split a lot of people up for the drama and/or miscommunication nonsense

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 10 >>next

Some place where the supernatural meets the normal, a little place called The Oblivion Bar, John Constantine simply sat shocked at the words he managed to hear and process through his mushed brain. Bobo closes his hung jaw, drinks his whiskey, and pats his friend’s shoulder as the man mumbles a sobering spell, cringing at the effects. “I should go. Good luck, John.” And so, the chimpanzee quickly makes his exit, leaving the Laughing Magician and Death of the Endless to their business.

“I need you to walk me through this again, luv- wasn’t quite paying attention.” Constantine shook his head as he fully turned to face the smiling entity. “You and who did what?!” He hissed, voice barely above a whisper as he tried not to bring attention to what they were saying. This was bad. Really bad.

“Lady Gotham and I took a liking to Batman’s youngest daughter and-“ John quickly interrupted her. “And gave her magical powers beyond my comprehension and immortality- yes, I heard that, did you?!” The man rubbed his face, the thought was making him want to get drunk until he dropped. ”Have you gone mad? Giving a mortal immortality is more of Dream’s style you should know better-“

Death only smiled at him, amusement filling her eyes as she gently laid a hand on his shoulder making him tense up. “She was lonely, she deserves every happiness those powers and eternity are bound to give her. You’ll understand once you see her.” And boy, did John laugh his gut out at that as he shook his finger. “No- no, no, no- there’s no way I insert myself into that mess- Bat’s family is already a mess and reeks of you without magic- No- There’s no way- that’s bonkers-“

Death gets up with a bright smile. “Thank you, John.” Her words make him stutter almost choking on his breath at the audacity. “Don’t thank me ya loon! I’m not going to help her, I’m not even going to see the moppet!” He can only yell and cuss as she leaves.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

 “Alright, Cecil-“ The old man immediately interrupted you, the little communication device in your ear buzzing with life as he told you to not use names. “… Dude… I’m miles in the air, first of all! Second, that was like a really common name once. it’ll take a while to find you specifically, and I doubt anyone could anyway- you seem like the type that would erase himself from the gov’s documents.”

“Anyway-“ You didn’t give him time to say anything else. “What house am I supposed to go to again? And why?”

The old man sighs at your antics, rubbing the side of his forehead as he feels the headache coming while he gives the address once more. “Your brother’s teacher, Mr. Hiles, has been the mall bomber. It took us a while, he was smart about it, kept his search into biological bomb-making off the internet but he wasn’t that thorough about his paper trail.”

“Be prepared for anything and a confrontation.” The older man cleared his throat. You always made him nervous; you were an unexpected equation in everything, something he couldn’t control without risking Earth. Donald and everyone else just took his weariness and suspicion as him being overly cautious, but Cecil could tell something was clinging to you that just gave him nightmares.

“And thank you- usually I would have sent someone from the Teen Team but…uh-“ His eyes followed the action on another screen. “They’re busy. Your brother and father are helping them.”

“You’re nervous. Yapping again. Chill, I’ll take care of it. Just because I don’t want to be your little puppet doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep people safe.” You found the man irritating, but for now, he was being sane, actually doing his job, so you couldn’t complain. “Getting closer to the target. Going dark.”  Was the only warning the man got before the com was powered off.

Finally ready to land you politely greeted the man, walking through the training both Cecil and Nolan provided at the start of your vigilantism. “I didn’t expect to get caught quite this early, and I certainly expected… more conventional authorities when the time did come.” Professor Hiles just sighs and welcomes you in by your birth name. “How did you-“

“Are you kidding me? Mark is unable to shut up about you. And you forget to wear your hood more times than you do wear it.” The man said as he took off his sweater. “Follow me, I’ll show you to the fourth missing student. I assure you, I have no intention of resisting.” Well… This was easier than expected.

As he started to confess about how he started doing this, he led you to his basement. “Mr. Hiles, while I understand the loss of a child to suicide, a divorce, and the loss of a job ruined you until you hit rock bottom, avenging your son like this-“

“I’m not avenging the death of my son. That would be far too cliché.” Your eyes landed on the teen strapped to the table once he turned on the light, breath hitching as you saw the skin of his arms merging sloppily with the metallic torso the professor modified. “It’s the destruction of my life that has me seeking revenge.”

“The domino effect of pain and sorrow that these monsters create. Children who spend too much time at the mall, attend parties, consume alcohol, and play sports when they should be studying and doing homework.”

“I understand your ire, I’m not one for parties or drunks, but not all kids who do that stuff go to extremes, that’s a flawed logic- it does not give you the right to play god and do-“ You tried to placate him, keeping your tone soft and even, to try and make him see reason. “What I did to all of them, turning them into living bombs, an instrument with which to exact my revenge… my crusade to end the pain and sorrow by these- ‘popular’ kids… I feel no guilt for.”

“I can’t think of a more appropriate end to my crusade-” Mr. Hiles ripped open the shirt he was wearing, revealing the same mechanism the unconscious teen had. “-than the death of a superhero!” You quickly acted, not letting him talk more beyond that as the timer set to 50 seconds started trickling down while you grabbed him, breaking through his ceilings and roof and flying high in the air.

“Is this really how you want to die? Suicide bomb? You still can make this right- you don’t have to die like this just tell me how to deactivate it!“ Your eyes remained on the clock. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen. The man just chuckled a dry, humorless laugh. “Do it. There is nothing for me anymore.” Five, four, three.

You couldn’t tell if what you felt was sorrow or shame, but you knew you were defeated. The man was going to get one final death, but it won’t be yours. As your flight came to a stop well above the clouds, you threw the man higher in front of you as the clock struck one second, and as it hit zero, the bomb detonated, the range and heat of the explosion destroying any remains while pushing you back a bit.

Your eyes remained on the cloud of smoke it created. If the cops found him before you did, the bomb would have wiped out the neighbors, too. That’s what hero life was, what it is. Sacrifices left and right that only made you feel more at odds with this job than before.

As you went back to the house, you activated the com, putting it back into your ear. Cecil immediately informs you that the police are en route as well as his clean-up team. “Get an explosive ordnance disposal technician, too. There is a teen in the basement, the bomb doesn’t seem active yet, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I’ll send a report of what happened soon.” You stayed until Cecil’s people showed up, just to be sure the boy was still breathing and that the bomb wouldn’t activate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Helping Brit and the other heroes clean up the rubble from the alien attack helped keep your mind off things. The Brit enjoyed talking about his kid and wife, yapping until he needed to take a breath and then starting again keeping a smile on your face.

You enjoyed helping clean up, especially when there were no casualties, today wasn't that type of day. But it had become the easy, relaxing part of the job, pick big rubble up, place it into the waste trucks, pick another piece up, make sure to not hit the man in the trench coat, put it in the waste- wait…

Your head snaps back to the man, squinting as your eyes meet. You each take a second to take each other in before your eyes widen in surprise. “Hello, luv. I’m-“ You couldn’t help your excitement as recognition finally settled into your brain. “I know you-“ Your words made John cringe and tense up. When others said that it never ended well for him. “You’re Johnny Con-Job, the lead singer for Mucous Membrane, dude, your band got me into the punk culture.”

That… wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud of that or fight back the mental breakdown that was creeping up his spine. “You’re a bit young for that slop, no?” You just shrug. “Your songs got me to finally put myself first, to get the courage to sneak out, see other stuff beyond the walls of my first house, help others, and leave my neglectful family before they could seriously hurt me.” Her words worried him. John never took Bruce as the “lock his kids up” type, but the man was as paranoid as they came, he wouldn’t put that above him.

“It may be slop and shitty vocals, but it’s what I needed to hear.” You teased him while putting the rubble in the waste collector. He watched as you approached him with a soft smile and sparkling eyes. He could see what Death meant. “I need to talk to you. I’m not quite sure about what luv, but I think it’s about Batman-“ He didn’t get to finish, as soon as the name left his mouth, he was grabbed by the throat and lifted well above the clouds, way too close to the ozone layer. “Did he send you?” you hissed, giving his neck a warning squeeze.

Yup. He definitely saw what Death meant as your eyes glowed a Lazarus green. “Nno-“ He choked out. “Did Bruce Wayne send you?” her question was met with the same answer. Your grip softened, grabbing him by his coat instead of his neck as you brought him closer. “Then why are you here?”

“We need to talk in private…” He whispered as he realized the situation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This was a whole mess that John Constantine knew he should have stayed out of- he knew! From Bruce to the whole family basically ignoring the kid, not even telling her about the vigilantism, to the rogues taking her in and doing a better job of raising her to her running away and getting adopted by another hero- a hero that John knew wanted to conquer the world, the whole fucking race wanted to, the fucking demons had a problem with that and wouldn’t stop complaining to him like he can fix it- he takes a deep breath in. “Why are you telling me all of this?” He whined, rubbing his face as he sat on the edge of some skyscraper with you.

“I’m not hiding my past, I’ll happily snitch and tell a reporter that Bruce Wayne is a shit father, they all just assume I’m Nolan’s actual kid that was in the hospital for a deadly something or whatever.” You shrug. “Please don’t- not because I care about the bellend- I just don’t want to deal with… Huh. Now that I’m thinking about it, that may be great blackmail.” His words only made you snicker.

He didn’t know where to begin. Did she know about the Viltrumite? Was she in cahoots with him? Should he tell her any of that? Would she even believe his ass? Maybe he should get the JL involved...

The scruffy man shook his head. “Not why I’m here. You said your hero name is Sorceress? Great, so you know you have magic powers, that makes it easy-“ John took in your shocked expression. Of course, it wasn’t that easy, it never could be. “If this was another world, I’d call you crazy.” You told him simply. “But Midnight City is cursed, and I guess that makes sense… Is that why I can hear the shadows speak?”

John nodded before doing a double take, asking you to elaborate on the shadows speaking part.  “They just speak, whisper, giggle the whole thing. They can also emit what they feel. They’ve always been present, they’re not as strong here, but I think that’s because they’re more tied to Gotham and Midnight City… or just- where there is more darkness.”

“Well, you’re not far off there, love.” The man nodded in agreement as his eyes drifted to the dark dome around the cursed city. He knew where to start. “This is going to be a long explanation, you better strap in, hen, and let me finish before you ask questions.”

“You remember the painting and murals you made of gods and other entities, demons, angels, the whole sort, in Gotham and here? Yeah, they brought the attention to you from the entities you drew. Some of the moppets took them as a higher form of offering than others, a few of them decided to stick around you.”

“Those have also decided to- ‘bless’ you with a few gifts, I’m not sure of all of them, but I know specifically that Lady Gotham offered the shadows as a companion and protector, and I know that Death of the Endless has blessed you with… well, immortality.” There was no way of walking around that fact. “I don’t remember if any of these two also gave you your powers, I was quite sloshed, but someone did.” John looked at the kit, taking in her shocked expression before he nudged you a bit. “Come on, kid, say something. You got me all worried here.”

“It’s all just- a bit much.” You mumble. “Yeah, I get it. A lot for you to shoulder, but I’m sure you’ll power through- oh, thanks love… Wha- How-“ John’s eyes moved from the beer in his hands to the energy can you were looking at. You just shrug. "I wanted to know if I could, thought…” You narrow your eyes at the can in your hands. “I’m not sure if this is made out of thin air or just- teleported or something.”

Constantine just slowly looks back at his beer mug… She was taking this better than most. He hoped it was because the shock hadn’t worn off yet. Well, he’s had worse things in his mouth, he's sure, so with a shrug, he takes a sip, humming with delight at the taste, muttering something about this being real beer. “You’re here to help me, right? Like- with my powers… I- I think I need help with this whole worshipping gods and demons- entities- thing, too.”

He knew the easy way out would be to say no, to just leave, she had done just fine without him… But that isn’t what came out of his mouth. “Sure, poppet. Just keep on giving me this fine beer.” Given his track record with people and magic, he shouldn’t feel this accomplished at your happiness, but he was always quite selfish, so he returned your hug, even if he was a bit stiff.

“Now- usually the normal thing is to go from small stuff to big, teach the basics, but I’m not one for rules. Have you ever wanted to teleport via portals?” The big mischievous smile you gave him was all the answer he needed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You came home at the same time as Nolan and Mark, everyone’s first stop after greeting Debbie was their bedrooms to refresh themselves before going back to the dining area. “I’m going to be honest, Nolan, the longer hair and full beard fit you better than the silly mustache. Right, mom?” You couldn’t help the teasing as the whole family ate. Debbie looked at Nolan with a scrutinizing eye, before sighing and giving an amused smile. “I’ll definitely miss the beard.”

Mark snorted at the teasing as Nolan pouted, brows furrowing. “It’s not silly- it’s a rite of passage into manhood by the Viltrumite culture-“ you couldn’t help but interrupt. “It’s still a silly-looking mustache. What does the Viltrumite rite of passage for women look like?”

Nolan’s momentary displeasure at the mustache comment was overlooked as the inquiry about the Viltrumite women was brought forth. “Huh… I’m not sure, I never really paid attention to that. I think some cut their hair.” A puff of air escaped you in amusement before deciding to tease him some more. “Well, you clearly weren’t planning for a daughter that’s sure.”

Debbie just took in the chatter. She enjoyed the easy atmosphere, the laughter of her kids. “So, how was everyone’s day?” She asks once the chatter stops. “Oh, I met the Teen Team and helped them with the Flaxan attack, dad got kidnapped by them while I was trying to gather up survivors, made friends with Atom Eve, and met an alien called Allen who apparently got the wrong planet.” Mark shrugged.

“I spent the last eight months enslaved by an army from an alternative dimension, although it seems much less time has passed here. About a week ago, I led a revolt against my captors and regained control of my powers. Today, a team of scientists from the rebellion found a way to get me home.” Nolan lied as easily as he breathed.

“One of Mark’s teachers was turning his classmates into organic bombs in order to take revenge on kids he felt were like the ones who led his son to commit suicide. He turned himself into a bomb also and tried to take me out with him but clearly, it didn’t work in his favor. Helped clean up after the Flaxan mess, and met the lead singer of Mucous Membrane who apparently is a mage. He was here on behalf of Death herself to help me and tell me that my powers aren’t because I’m a meta, they’re magic. Oh, and also, I’m allegedly immortal.” You took a sip of water. “Lex also wants to know if anyone would be interested in attending one of his rich folk parties.”

At the quietness of the room, you lifted your eyes from your plate to look at everyone’s shocked glance. “What?” you ask with a mouth full of food.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That night, the teens wanted to sleep with their parents, both needing reassurance. Debbie and Mark were already gone, sleeping deep and peacefully. “Dad… You awake?” your question was whispered as your head lay on Deborah's shoulder. He answered with a warm hand squeezing your shoulder and a quiet hum. “...How do you move past people you can’t save or the people we have to sacrifice?”

Nolan wasn’t sure how to answer that, he’d never felt anything for the people he couldn’t save. He knew that if he had to save earth’s people or his kids and wife… Well… Earth can be populated again. “You look at the people who you did save. We can’t always save everyone, that’s the sad reality. It’s… painful. But it’s a truth all heroes have to come to terms with. Even I can’t save everyone.” Nolan wrapped his arms around his girls and son tighter, pulling everyone closer. “If all you could save was a person, you still did everything you could. If you couldn’t save anyone, you just have to keep your head high and try again.”

You snuggled closer into your mom, feeling her arm instinctively wrap around you as you draped yours over her and Nolan’s stomach, your fingers laying on Mark’s wrist. The sad reality of being a hero...

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I'M REALLY SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEBODY- MY DOC SOMETIMES FORGETS TO SAVE AND I HAD TO READD PPL

[dj-of-the-coven]

“Unable to slot Jews into a clearly defined role within their political agenda, most of the left tended historically to regard them with considerable ambivalence, and, in some cases, extreme hostility. While supporting universal human rights, the left never saw antisemitism as a primary concern. Instead, it was a secondary issue (if an issue at all) that would be resolved as a side effect of the general social liberation that the left was pursuing. Intrinsic to this approach is the view that Jewish particularity is, in itself, a defect to be remedied through assimilation and disappearance. […] Any attempt by Jews to make the struggle against antisemitism into a separate problem deserving of the same passion devoted to other progressive causes was rejected as a diversion from the main issues that animate the left.”

- The New Antisemitism, Shalom Lappin

On Antisemitism: An Open Plea.

Over the course of 2024, I was physically assaulted for being a Jew three times: once by a man waiting outside the JCC, and twice while working the desk at an anarchist bookstore.

All three of these attacks were done by men, all almost immediately after identifying me as a Jew. One of my assaulters, a white man with scruffy facial hair and a bucket hat, clearly identified as some kind of Christian—he wore three cross necklaces and a blue shirt with the Virgin Mary on the front. One man was black, wearing pressed slacks and dark leather dress shoes. One man was college-aged, white, wearing a band hoodie and jeans. Two of the encounters were one-off incidents, whereas the Christian man searched for me multiple times at the bookstore while I was not present. I am a fairly large person, and one with a lot of combat training, so I was lucky that none of these incidents resulted in the worst possible outcomes for an early-20s woman confronted alone after dark. Many people are not so lucky when they are put in my place. Particularly Jewish women.

And as a quick aside, people don’t tend to take the Jewish part of “Jewish woman” seriously. When I add this comment to the story, a lot of people scoff. I can somewhat understand why; despite the curls, if you were to look at me, you might think, “How did they even know you were Jewish?”. For two of these men (the ones who didn’t see me coming out of the Jewish Community Center), the answer is fairly simple. When they heard my name, they paused and asked. I don’t like to assume the worst in people, and thus I confirmed, though in the time since I have gotten much sparser with revealing that information to strangers. This is how I know they were attacking me for that reason. When you reveal yourself to be a Jew, or are recognized against the odds, things can often become unsavory quickly.

Any leftist worth their salt would call these attacks against me unconscionable—I doubt that most would be willing to defend this behavior—but make no mistake. None of the men who attacked me were acting out some kind of exception to a rule, nor was I particularly surprised that these incidents all occurred in or around spaces that should be safe for Jews. This is the reality that the Jewish people live in. Wherever we are, we can expect a roughly equal reaction from the population, left wing or right wing, and the largest point of difference between the two is whether they will call you “Zio” or “Kike” before grabbing you by the collar.

I was attacked only three times last year. Yet, countless more times I have watched the people in my communities ignore the rhetoric that led to these attacks, wave them off as radicals, as zealots unrepresentative of their peers, and continue to live their lives as if these incidents don’t happen regularly.

This is a major problem on the left.

Yes—the left.

The American right-wing is axiomatically predisposed to this type of behavior. If they aren’t the ones committingthe hate crimes, then they are often the ones most comforted by them, affirmed that their goal of a pure-white America is one step closer to being attained. It’s never surprising for a Jew to encounter a conservative with just one or two comments to make about us being “good with money”, “owning the banks”, “controlling the media”, and other examples of kindergarten-level political opinions. On the other hand, one wouldn’t automatically assume that a leftist would hold such opinions. Being opposed to race-based and religion-based discrimination, it would be a bit counter-intuitive for leftists to say such things about Jews. Wouldn’t it?

You would be surprised.

If there’s anything that the last year has taught me, it’s that the left is much more susceptible to antisemitism than ever previously understood, despite its long history within progressive social movements. So long as you stipulate “Israeli” and/or “Zionist” before saying the word “Jews”, any and all manner of violent hate speech can be considered revolutionary sentiment: I have seen fellow leftists call Jews, not just "Zionists", inhuman, bloodthirsty, real-life monsters, scum, vermin, pollutants; capitalist pigs and agents of genocide; a fake people with a fake identity and a fake claim to safety and dignity. And pointing this out will net you with a number of other responses, questions of whether you support the actions of the Israeli government, as if the point of the discussion was ever about that and not about the antisemitism being lobbed at you in broad daylight. Talks of antisemitism are always shafted into talks about Israel regardless of where in the diaspora you happen to be. Those of us who are staunch leftists, who want nothing but peace and solidarity with Arabs and Muslims—which is a majority of Jews—are pressured into remaining silent about our worsening mental health and safety for the sake of the cause. We’re told to speak later, when the most important voices have spoken first: every ethnic, gender, and sexuality minority first, then maybe the Jews. It was only recently that I realized this mythical “later” will never come.

Largely, Jews just want peace. Jews want safety. Jews want recognition of our suffering, regardless of the actions of a government that might not even be ours, depending on who you’re talking to—but Israeli Jews deserve these things as well. There is nothing wrong with criticizing the Israeli government, but when will goyische leftists realize that Israel’s government, like all governments, is not a true representation of its people? When will goyim realize that it’s not okay to dehumanize Jews, no matter what their political opinion is? When will they finally wake up embarrassed by their own behavior, realizing that my Jewish peers, my cousins, my extended family, my community—all of us are just people who are entitled to the same respect and empathy as any ethnic group in the world? Will they ever learn to recognize their own bigotry? Will they ever see the world from a pair of Jewish eyes?

The answer is, for all intents and purposes, no. But I don’t want to stop trying just because it feels hopeless.

If you are a leftist goy and you’re still reading this, I would like to ask of you only one thing: stop talking and start listening. If you don’t know anything about Jewish history, don’t talk about it. If you know less than four Jewish people, and you keep them at an arm’s length in case they turn out to be “evil baby-killers”, then you shouldn’t mention your Jewish friends. If you believe only Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews count as “real Jews”, you shouldn’t be weighing in on which Jews count as white. If you couldn’t name any Jewish holiday besides Chanukah, you shouldn’t bother to call yourself educated on my people and our traditions. If you believe that the Jewish people, alone among all peoples, deserve to be oppressed for the crimes of a vocal few, then frankly you should not consider yourself a human rights activist at all.

If you are a Jew, all I have to say to you is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to speak up on your behalf; on behalf of all of us. I’m so sorry that everyone is acting like this is fine. I’m sorry that our lives have been shrinking ever-smaller as we’ve been made unsafe in queer spaces, disabled spaces, online communities and real-life ones, spaces that should belong to everyone. I wish I could fix your pain. I hope you’ll accept my attempt to chip away at it.

This is not the first time a Jew has come forward to speak about this, but I hope that adding my voice to the conversation will help at least one more person realize that what has happened to us is wrong. There is no world in which the collective punishment of an entire ethnic group is justified. No matter what Israel has done, no matter what tragedies and injustices have been inflicted on Palestinians by the IDF, there is no world in which this mass-scale vilification of Jews can be called real justice. There is no world in which these means justify the ends. And what ends do you even want to this? For all Israelis to blow up and die? For all Jews to stop practicing our faith? Or do you want the long-proposed answer to the Jewish question—the total annihilation of all Jews from the planet Earth?

Of course not. But if you don’t make an effort to educate yourself on antisemitism, then the answer to that question will make itself known in your mind, and in your heart, before you even know it. There is no genetic difference between you and a Nazi.

[v6quewrlds]

&.⠀⠀SAIGON⠀⋆⠀JOE BURROW.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x doctor!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀10.4k.

summary⠀⁎⠀in small doses, stubbornness is attractive. it's the reason why they're both where they are: successful. but in large doses, stubbornness tangles all their wires, leaving them both turning away.

author's note⠀⁎⠀surprise, shawty!! wrote an actual summary, everybody cheer! was really trying for the angst, but dragging it out didn't feel like them. considering what i usually pull with angst, consider it a blessing lol. warnings⠀⁎⠀3rd person [she/her], angst, language, class differences (kinda sorta), argument about finances, a tiny bit of therapyspeak.

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist⠀⁎⠀series masterlist.

Every inch of Joe's body ached. His head pounded against his skull, amplifying every sound that shuffled past his ears. The dull throbbing of his knee drew a pained hiss from his lips as he descended down the hallway of Allegiant Stadium, out to the team bus waiting to take them to the airport. His teammates dragged their feet, shoulders heavy with the weight of their loss. Joe's eyes searched the floor, avoiding the glaring lights above. The quiet whispers of disappointment grew as they boarded the bus, each player retreating into their own cocoon of defeat.

He collapsed into a seat near the back of the bus, sighing heavily as he pulled out his phone. The screen lit up, displaying messages from his father, one from his agent, and a few from his friends, all trying to offer comfort in their own ways. But one stuck out from all the rest. It was relatively simple as if she could sense the frustration and shortness in his voice from thousands of miles away.

Sorry about the game. Talk to me when you're ready.

His thumb swiped through his phone, hovering over the digital keyboard as he attempted to gather his thoughts. What was he supposed to say to her? That he'd let everyone down? That he'd played the worst game of his life? He couldn't. Instead, he dialed her number, his heart racing as the call connected.

"Hey," her voice came through at the end of the third ring. Almost instantly, his heartbeat slowed, gently washing over him as if he had breathed in the scent of her. Soft, soothing understanding flooding his ears and pulling a sigh from his chest.

"Sorry you had to watch that," Joe murmured, his eyes closing as his head leaned back against the headrest. "Played like shit."

"You're only human, everybody has off days," she replied. "On the bright side, it was nice to get some eye candy after work. You looked pretty good out there, despite the misery."

Her attempt at humor didn't lift the fog of Joe's mood entirely, but he managed a weak scoff, appreciating her effort. "Glad I could be useful for something," he muttered, casting a glance out the window as the bus pulled away from the stadium. The neon lights of Vegas, though miles away, taunted him with their brilliance, an unsettling contrast to the bitterness that had settled into the pit of his stomach.

"What's the mood like?" she asked, there was a shuffling in the background of the call. No doubt the sheets of her bed whispering against her skin as she turned, probably shifting to get more comfortable. The thought made Joe's chest tighten, a deep ache settling in his chest as he realized how much he missed her.

"It's like a fucking funeral," he grumbled. "You'd think we'd lost the Super Bowl. Feels like we did lose the Super Bowl." He laughed bitterly, the absence of a smile communicated over the line even though she couldn't see him.

"Baby," she sighed, her voice thick with sympathy. "You guys'll bounce back. You always do."

Joe nodded despite her not being able to see him. "Yeah, you're right." He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the bus. "But I just... I just really need to see you right now." He sank deeper into his seat, his hand rubbing the back of his neck which also ached and throbbed from the hits he had taken during the game.

She paused for a moment. If the defeat on his face displayed in high definition on her TV wasn't enough to tell her how much he was hurting, his voice certainly did. "How long is your flight?" she asked, pressing the speaker button on the call as she switched over to Maps. She typed in the address to Joe's house, mildly impressed with the flow of her thumbs, needing not a moment of thought to remember it in full.

"Uh," he squeezed his eyes shut, "about four hours, I think." The bus rumbled to life, shifting away as the light turned green, the vibrations echoing through his body. "Then it's about 30 minutes to my place. Why?"

"Well," she said, her voice light, "I know we had plans to spend my week off together. But since it technically starts tomorrow, I don't mind driving down tonight. Traffic's not too bad, I'll be there before you even land."

"Oh, you don't have to do that, baby," Joe said, the weariness in his voice palpable. "You just got off work. You deserve to rest. I can come pick you up tomorrow afternoon like we planned. I want to spend every second of your week off together, but I don't want you to wear yourself out."

"Don't worry about me, hon," she replied, her voice steady. "I'm already all packed, except for a couple of things. I'll grab them now and hit the road. I'll be there in four hours tops, all snug waiting for you in your bed." Her voice dipped low, a hint of teasing in her tone.

Joe's eyes lit up at the thought of her curled up in his bed, waiting for him; all sleepy love and warmth. It had been two weeks since he had held her, two weeks of endless nights filled with cold, empty sheets and the ghost of her scent lingering on his pillow, on his clothes, in his house. "You don't know how much I need that right now," he murmured, the corners of his mouth tilting up slightly. "As long as you feel okay to drive. Text me when you're 30 minutes out, and I'll let security know."

"Don't worry about me, okay? I'm serious, Joe," she assured him. "I want to do this for you. I'll be fine. Promise."

"Alright," Joe relented, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you, baby. That means a lot."

They talked a bit longer until the bus pulled up to the airport and the team started to gather their belongings. He promised to text her when he boarded and to let her know when he'd be home. With a final, "Love you," Joe ended the call and squeezed his eyes shut, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him.

She stood from her bed, slipping her feet into her Ugg slippers and grabbing her phone and its charger from where it was plugged into her alarm clock. True to her word, her duffel bag was already packed, seated by her door, a pair of her gym shoes stacked on top. The room was dark, the only light coming from the hallway, painting a rectangle on the carpeted floor. She didn’t bother turning any lights on, knowing the layout of her apartment like the back of her hand.

Leah sat in the living room, cross-legged on the couch, eyes trained on the Real Housewives of, presumably, somewhere. The living room filled with the sound of expletives and yelling. She held a glass of wine in her right hand, her hair pulled up into a messy bun atop her head. Leah looked over at her, the TV's light reflecting off her glasses. "What's going on?" she asked slowly, the volume on the TV dropping as she hit mute.

"Heading to Joe's," she said over her shoulder as she set her duffel down by the front door. She turned back towards the kitchen, searching for something to eat before her journey. "I was gonna drive down tomorrow, but he sounded horrible over the phone. So, I figured I'd just go now and get the most out of my week off."

Leah looked up at her with a knowing smile, the TV's reflection flickering over her face. "You'll be getting something for sure," she teased. "You sure you're good to drive? That's like, what, a four-hour trip at this time?"

"I'll be fine," she said with a wave of her hand. "I had a pretty easy day at the hospital, and I'm in a decent mood. I have my playlists and some sugar to keep me awake." She grabbed a protein bar from the pantry and a Dr. Pepper from the fridge before returning to the living room. "But thanks for looking out for me." She leaned over the couch to hug Leah. "Give me a kiss for luck?"

Leah rolled her eyes but leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek. "One of these days I will steal you from him," she joked. "But I guess I can stomach this for now."

She laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. "You're so strong, babe." She squeezed Leah's arm playfully before walking towards the door, reaching for her keys. "I'll text you when I get there."

Leah nodded. "Drive safe, babe."

"I will," she said, slipping her phone into her pocket.

The drive was relatively quiet, with enough cars on I-71 to keep her company without causing any stress from unexpected traffic. The Cincinnati skyline came into view just as her dashboard read 11:45 PM. The city's lights twinkled like stars scattered across the dark fabric of the night, bringing her an inch of hope with each passing mile.

By the time she pulled past the gate to Joe's neighborhood, her phone lit up with a text from her boyfriend. "Just landed, be there in 35."

She parked her car in the driveway, waving to the security guard on duty, who offered to help her bring her things in from the car. "I've got it," she said with a smile. "Thank you, though." The guard nodded, his eyes lingering for a moment before returning to his post.

The house was still, much stiller than she had ever seen it. Darkness filled the rooms, the silence causing her every move to echo. She tiptoed to her bedroom, making sure to text both Leah and Joe on her way, confirming her arrival and that she was safe. His room was perfectly orderly, evidence of his housekeeper's recent visit. She tossed her bag onto the bed and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension from the road.

Her muscles eased as she trailed off to his closet, picking out a plain white t-shirt that smelled faintly of him. His shower was warm and welcoming, the water washing away the last of the road's grit and the day's stress. By the time she emerged, the scent of his soap clung to her skin, flooding her senses with his smell. She slipped into bed after completing her skincare, snapping a picture of herself in his clothes, wrapped up in his sheets, and sending it to him.

The minutes ticked by slowly as she waited for Joe. The house was so quiet she could almost hear the air conditioner run. She began to drift off, her eyes heavy as the analog clock on his dresser displayed 12:17 AM. The sound of his car pulling into the garage jolted her awake, her body rising from its spot in the bed. Her feet carried her to the door as she heard his footsteps approaching. The door swung open slowly, and Joe appeared in the doorway, visibly exhausted, his undereye darkened with shadows, his posture drooping with the weight of the loss.

He took a moment to drink her in, standing in his home in his boxers and shirt. A sleepy smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, his first genuine smile since the beginning of the never-ending night. "Baby," he murmured, his chest rising and falling with a breath. She looked so at home in his space, so beautiful in his clothes. He stepped closer to her, his eyes searching hers, the need for her comfort dancing through them.

"How was the drive?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the dry plane air. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She smelled like her, but also so faintly of him.

Her hands found his back, gently stroking circles, feeling the tension knotted into his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. "It was fine," she whispered, her voice muffled against him. "I missed you."

Joe's arms tightened around her, his grip fierce. "Missed you, too." He continued holding her, content to stand there in the quiet darkness for as long as she would let him. His heart rate slowed, his breath evened out as her warmth seeped into his bones. He didn't realize how much he needed this until she was there, a shiver coursing through him as her fingers continued their gentle dance along his back.

"I'm so tired," he admitted, his voice a low rumble against her neck. "But I'm so fucking happy you're here."

"I know," she whispered, her own exhaustion forgotten in the face of Joe's warmth. She could feel the tension in his body, the tightness of his embrace telling her everything she needed to know about his state of mind. "Let's get you showered and into bed," she suggested, her voice gentle. "Just wanna feel you next to me."

Joe nodded into her neck, reluctant to let go. "Okay," he murmured, his grip loosening just enough for her to step back. He turned and disappeared into the en suite, the sound of the shower echoing through the room. She took a moment to appreciate the noise, the house finally feeling alive again with Joe's presence. She climbed into bed, scrolling through her phone to hold off her own exhaustion until he was done.

When Joe emerged, his skin was pink and warm from the hot water, his hair brushed back from his face. She watched him move around the room, his movements deliberate and weary. It was clear that he was more than physically exhausted; his eyes were sad, his shoulders slumped with the burden of defeat.

He finally joined her in bed, his lower half the only part of him concealed by a gray pair of boxers. He slid in next to her, his body immediately fitting into hers as if they had done this a thousand times before. She set her phone aside, reaching over to switch off the lamp, plunging the room into a comfortable darkness.

Her neck craned upwards to meet his descending kiss, and their bodies aligned, his arm snaking around her waist to pull her closer. He surrounded her with warmth, and she felt the tension in his body begin to dissolve as his hands roamed over her. There was no urgency to the press of his lips, only a gentle selfishness that grew with every shared breath.

"Missed you," he repeated, the syllables slurring slightly from fatigue. His arms tightened around her, pressing his face into her neck, his nose skimming the skin. Her hands found his hair, fingers tangling in the damp strands. She could feel his warm breath, his heartbeat thumping against her chest.

Her lips pressed to the shell of his ear, peppering kisses along his tanned skin. "Wish I could just hold you like this every day," he whispered, the pacing of his speech slowing down in his drowsiness. His hands snaked under her shirt, caressing the bare skin of her back, his eyes screwed shut.

“I know," she whispered back, her voice just as tired. She could feel the beginnings of his stubble, scratching against her skin. The warmth of his breath danced over her neck. One of his hands dropped to her thigh, pulling her leg over his. "This would be the best part of my day," she murmured, her voice sleepy. "Every day."

He pulled her closer, kissing along her clothed shoulder. His breathing evened out as they continued to lay on their sides, wrapped up in each other's arms. "You smell good," he mumbled, his eyes still closed. "Always smell good, but especially in my clothes."

She hummed softly. "Used your soap," she said, her voice a whisper. "Been too long since I smelled you."

Joe's chuckle was low as he met her eye. "Been too long since I've felt you," he murmured, his hand sliding down to her ass, squeezing weakly before resting there. "Look so good in my clothes, in my bed." His voice was gruff, sleep tugging at the edges of his words.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, her eyes drifting shut. The weight of Joe's hand was comforting, grounding her in a way that she hadn't felt in weeks. "I'll always be here for you."

Joe nodded into her neck, his eyes slipping closed as his grip tightened slightly. "Love you, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, her fingers carding through his hair. "Love you too, Joey."

Joe's eyes remained shut as he drifted off to sleep, the comfort of her touch and the sweet scent of her skin surrounding him like a warm blanket. She lay there for a few moments longer, watching him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Then, she too, succumbed to the gentle embrace of slumber, nestled against him.

Mid-morning warmth flooded through the curtains as Joe's alarm blared, jolting them both from their deep sleep. He groaned and reached over for his phone to silence it, then turned towards her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. "I don't wanna get up," he mumbled into her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

"It's Monday, babe, you don't have to," she groaned, her hand finding his as it pulled her back to his chest. "Why is your alarm going off?"

"Didn't remember to shut it off last night," Joe mumbled, his eyes still closed. His hand reached for her hip, sneaking under her shirt to rest on the bare skin of her waist. "You don't have to go anywhere, do you?"

Her eyes remained shut as she snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. "Just need to get out of your bed before I get too comfortable," she said with a small smile. "I should keep a schedule, you know, make sure I stay productive during my week off."

Joe's grip tightened around her, his eyes still closed. "No, you don't," he murmured. "You can stay here all day if you want." He kissed her shoulder. "With me." Dropped another to her neck. "In my bed." He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Where you belong."

She felt a smile tug at her lips. "That sounds tempting," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Tempting?" Joe echoed, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "It's more than tempting." His hand slid up to cup her face, turning her towards him. His eyes searched hers in the dim light, the shadows playing across his features. "It's necessary," he said, his voice thick with something that sent a thrill through her.

"Necessary?" She echoed, her body turning to face Joe fully. His hand remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing lazy patterns across her skin.

"Mmhmm," Joe murmured, his eyes still sleepy but focused on hers. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a gentle kiss that spoke of the ease that she brought with her. His hand slid from her face to her neck, his thumb resting just above her collarbone. He could feel the timid thump of her pulse under his touch.

Her eyes fluttered open as Joe broke the kiss. He was so close, his breath ghosting over her lips. She reached up to trace his jaw with her fingertips, feeling the rough stubble under her touch. "You're so needy," she murmured accusingly, her voice still thick with sleep.

He smirked. "You love it." He kissed her again, this time deeper, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She made a noise of protest that turned into a sigh as she melted into him. He rolled her onto her back, his body hovering over hers, his hand sliding down to the hem of her shirt.

He guided it over her head, his eyes focused on hers as he tossed it aside. His hands skimmed over her bare skin, his touch tender yet possessive. Her eyes searched his, her heart racing in anticipation of his next move. She felt the warmth of his body press into her, his chest to hers, her legs tangling with his.

He hummed, low in his throat, as he laced his fingers through hers, pinning them above her head. His kiss grew more urgent, his tongue dancing with hers as his hips pressed into hers. She felt the heat pool in her core, her body responding to his without hesitation. She arched up into him, her bare breasts brushing against his chest.

Joe's hand slid down to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak of one nipple. She gasped into his mouth, her legs parting for him. He took the invitation, his hand sliding down her side to her thigh, pushing it up and hooking it over his hip.

He ground against her, his hips rolling into hers, the friction making her squirm. "Joe," she panted, her eyes half-lidded. He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. She felt a thrill of pleasure as his tongue followed, soothing the path his teeth had made.

"Can't stop saying thank you for being here," Joe mumbled against her neck, his breath warm and tickling. She giggled, feeling the vibration against her skin. She tilted her head to give him better access, his kisses turning into nibbles that forced laughter from her.

"You told me you needed me, so I'm here," she purred, her voice a whisper that was barely heard over the sound of his teeth scraping her skin. "But maybe I can be there for you... in the kitchen. Eating something?"

As if on cue, her stomach growled loudly, and Joe groaned just as loudly. His head fell forward, his forehead pressed against her sternum. "Fuck, I was just getting started," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers as his head lifted to kiss her again.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all week," she reminded him, pushing him off gently. "I'm starving."

Joe sighed dramatically but rolled off her, his hand sliding down to squeeze her thigh before letting go. "Fine," he grumbled, his eyes still closed. "But we're coming back to this."

She laughed, sitting up and stretching. The bed was warm and inviting, but she knew they both needed to eat. She slid out of bed, and Joe's eyes followed her as she grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipping it on. She walked over to her duffel bag, finding a pair of wide-leg sweatpants to pair with his shirt.

"I'll start breakfast," she said, leaning down to kiss him. He caught her hand, pulling her back down for one more deep, lingering kiss before releasing her.

"Don't burn anything," he teased, his eyes still half-lidded as he watched her leave the room. She shot him a playful glare over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway, the sound of her bare feet on the hardwood floor fading as she moved towards the kitchen.

Joe took the moment to stretch out in the bed, his muscles protesting after the tense game and the long flight from the night—or morning, really—before. He couldn't help but smile, though, as he thought about her wearing his clothes, feeling his warmth even in his absence. With a groan, he pushed himself out of bed and into the bathroom, hissing softly at the sight of his bruises from the game. Wincing, he applied some of the shea butter-infused lotion she had brought with her, the coolness soothing his skin.

By the time he made it to the kitchen, the smell of turkey bacon and eggs filled the air, making his stomach rumble with anticipation. She was moving around with ease, her hips swaying to some unheard tune. She looked over her shoulder at him, her smile bright. "How do you want your eggs, baby?"

"Any way you'll give 'em to me," he uttered, his hands finding her hips from behind as he nuzzled his face into her neck. She giggled, shaking her head as she continued working on the eggs. He kissed along her neck, his hands sliding around to her stomach and then up to cup her tits over the shirt. "You're so fuckin' perfect," he murmured into her ear, his voice thick with desire. "Gimme anything you want and I'll take it."

"Not my eggs, you freak," she huffed, playfully shoving him away with her elbow. "Scrambled, over hard, omelet?"

"Surprise me," Joe said, stepping back into his place behind her, his chest pressing against her back. He could feel her laugh reverberate through her upper body, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her closer. She playfully slapped at his hands, trying to focus on not burning the food.

The kitchen was filled with the sizzle of bacon and the crackle of eggs hitting the hot pan. Her movements were swift and practiced, opposing Joe's sluggishness. He leaned against the counter, watching her, feeling the weight of the last few days fall away. He watched the way she moved in his space, so confident and comfortable. If he could have painted a picture of what contentment felt like, it would be this; it would be her.

"You know," she said, her voice teasing as she flipped an egg expertly, "you could always help. Make some toast or something. Cut up some avocados?"

Joe groaned. "But then I'd have to move." He pressed himself into her with a touch more determination. "And I'm really enjoying this view."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. When his left hand snuck up to her tits again, she shooed him away again with a laugh. "Go do something," she said, pointing towards the refrigerator. "Make yourself useful."

With a dramatic sigh, Joe retreated to the fridge, grabbing the avocados and a knife. He took his time peeling and slicing them, savoring the feeling of normalcy he longed for during the spaces of time when their worlds diverged. "How many eggs do you want?" she called over her shoulder, not turning away from the stove.

"Two's fine if you're tossing in some veggies on the side," Joe called back, his focus on the task at hand. "I'll grab some of the Greek yogurt and berries too."

She nodded. She cracked his eggs into a small bowl and whisking them with a fork until they were fluffy. She poured them into the pan with the already cooked bacon and vegetables, mixing everything together. Joe grabbed two slices of bread, buttering both sides before sliding them into the toaster.

"Wait, what day is it?" she suddenly asked aloud, the question interrupting the comfortable silence that had settled over the kitchen.

Joe paused his toast prep, looking at her with a quizzical expression. "It's Monday," he said, a hint of confusion in his voice. "Why?"

"No, the actual date, I mean," she clarified, glancing at the calendar hanging on the fridge. "It's the 9th, isn't it?" She questioned with a gasp.

Joe nodded, reaching up to find plates and silverware. "Yeah, it's the 9th. Why?" He drew the syllables out, making clear his inability to follow her line of thinking.

Her eyes widened slightly as she continued working on the omelet. "My rent and my student loans are due today," she murmured, a hint of panic seeping into her voice. "I didn't transfer the money from my savings account."

Joe's smile fell, his eyes meeting hers with understanding. "You can do it from here," he said, placing a hand on her waist. "Use my laptop. It's on the table in the living room."

She nodded, her shoulders dropping slightly with relief. "Thank you, baby," she kissed his cheek before slipping out of his grasp and making her way to the living room. She returned a minute later, sitting down at the kitchen island with his laptop. Her eyes scanned the screen as she quickly logged into her bank account. She felt Joe's presence behind her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he leaned over to peer at the screen.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, her eyes narrowing at the screen. At a glance, there was enough for her rent, but not nearly enough for her student loans. She felt Joe's hand tighten on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles. "I must have used that money for something else," she murmured, feeling a twinge of frustration.

Joe leaned down, his cheek warm against hers, his hands moving to intertwine with hers. "Let me take care of it, sweetheart," he said softly. "It's no big deal."

She stiffened, her eyes snapping up to his. "No," she said firmly, clicking through her banking portal. "I'll figure something out." She shrugged off his touch, resuming her clicking around.

"Babe, it's just money," Joe reasoned, his voice gentle. "Don't stress over it. I got it."

Her eyes narrowed at the screen. "It's my responsibility," she said through gritted teeth, her hands clenching with tension before she relaxed them with an exhale. "Just give me a second to think."

Joe stepped back, his expression unreadable. He knew how important it was for her to be independent, to manage her own finances. But seeing her like this, the weight of her world on her shoulders, it was hard for him to stand idly by. He turned back to the toaster, his jaw clenching as he waited for the bread to pop. "Okay," he said slowly, noncommittally turning to finish off assembling their breakfast.

She continued murmuring under her breath, her right hand tapping at the calculator app on her phone as she mentally rearranged her finances. Her stomach tightened as the number on her screen grew larger, much larger than what she could reasonably part with at the moment. "Oh my god," she whispered, burying her face in both her hands.

Joe set a plate of perfectly toasted bread, eggs, and crisped bacon before her. "You okay?" He asked, his voice tentative.

She hesitated, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "I don't know," she sighed, picking up a piece of bacon. "It's just...I've been trying so hard to keep up with everything. I thought I was doing so well."

Joe sat beside her, his own plate forgotten. "Of course you are," he assured her, his hand finding hers. "So you don't have the loan money right now. It's okay, you'll figure it out."

"It's not just the loan money," she said, her voice rising with frustration. "My credit card's due in two weeks, and I won't get paid yet. I'm out of savings. I still need to pay for gas and food for the next three weeks. My niece's birthday is coming up, and I want to get her something nice..."

Joe found her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles in comfort. "Let me help," he urged again, his voice softer this time. "Just tell me how much you need, and I'll transfer it to you."

Her eyes began to cloud over as she looked at him. "I can't," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. "It's my debt. I need to pay it."

"Baby, please," Joe's voice was low and earnest. "I just want to take some of that burden off you. I know how much you've been working, and I can help. Let me do this for you."

She took a deep breath, looking down at their entwined hands. She knew Joe was trying to be supportive, but she felt a surge of exasperation. "Joe," she began, her voice steady but firm. "I appreciate the offer, but I can't. I have to do this by myself."

"If you're worried about paying me back, don't," Joe insisted, his voice filled with concern. "I just wanna take care of you. So let me. Just tell me how much."

She pulled her hand away, standing up from her stool. "Joe, I said no. And that's the end of it." She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice, but it was clear she was reaching her breaking point. "Just give me a second to think. I'll be right back," she added, escaping into the hallway and up to the master suite before he could respond.

Joe sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he stared at the plate of food in front of him. He knew she was stubborn, but he couldn't help but feel a little hurt by her rejection. He pulled his plate closer to him, the smell of the eggs and bacon suddenly not as appealing as it was moments ago. He took a bite, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach.

As he sat there in the silence, he could help but take a peek at her phone. The calculator app was still open, and a number was displayed on the screen. He took a bite of his toast, the crunch echoing in the quiet room. His leg bounced as he fought the urge to turn her phone toward him, to confirm the digits of the number on her screen. The urge grew the longer she was gone, spreading through his limbs and making his heart race. He took another bite, chewing it slowly as he listened for the sound of her returning from his room.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He leaned over, his eyes taking in the number displayed. It was a low four-digit number, enough to make him pause but not nearly enough for him to feel even a quarter of the stress she seemed to be under. He knew she was fiercely independent, but this was ridiculous.

His own phone sat on the island to his right, and without a second thought, Joe picked it up, navigating to his banking app. He had more than enough to cover her entire loan amount if he really wanted to, let alone the amount that was causing her such distress. But he knew that wasn't the point. He set his jaw, frustration and affection warring inside him. He knew her pride was important, but so was her peace of mind. The decision seemed simple to him—he had the means, and she had the need. In just a few taps he could ease her burden. Sure, she might be upset with him, but that was a risk he was willing to take if it meant she could focus on the important things, like her residency and making the most out of this week together.

He made up his mind then, tapping out a quick transfer from his account to hers. It was done before she could come back. It would take a moment to clear, but when he clicked the trackpad to reload her online banking page, the amount was there. Pending, but there. He took another bite of his eggs, his stomach no longer in knots.

"Okay," she announced, her voice echoing from the hallway. She returned to the kitchen, her expression composed. "Let's just eat," she suggested, sitting back down. "I'll figure this shit out after."

Joe studied her face, seeing the tightness around her eyes, the set of her jaw. He knew she was lying to herself, trying to pretend it wasn't a big deal when it clearly was. But he also knew her well enough to know that pushing now would only make it worse. "Come here," he said gently, setting his fork down. He opened his arms to her, and she leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she whispered, the warmth of Joe's embrace seeping into her bones. She felt his hand gently stroking her back, his thumb tracing soothing patterns along her spine. For a moment, she allowed herself to melt into his comfort, to let go of the anxiety that had been building within her. But as she leaned away, she couldn't help the feeling of something being off. She glanced at her phone, realizing it was off from where she had left it.

Her head turned to look at her laptop, her eyes fell on the banking app, and she froze. The balance of her checking account was different—substantially so. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the screen, her mind racing. "What did you do?" she demanded, pulling away from Joe's embrace to look at him.

Joe swallowed hard, setting his fork down. He knew this was going to be a fight. "I just transferred some money," he said calmly, trying to keep the frustration from his voice. "You don't have to pay me back, babe. I'm your boyfriend; I'm supposed to support you."

She stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Joe, I already told you no," she said, her voice shaking. "Why would you do this?"

Joe leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Because I love you," he said, his voice steady. "And I can't stand to see you stressed like this. You work so hard. You dropped everything to be here with me on your week off. Drove down late after work just because I was feeling down. I just wanted to do one thing to make your life a little easier."

Her eyes searched his, trying to read the intention behind his words. Her hand hovered over the laptop, the urge to check her bank account again strong, but she resisted. "It's not just about the money," she said, her voice tight. "It's about me being able to stand on my own two feet. You're undermining me."

Joe's expression softened. "I know that's what you want to do," he said, his voice low. "And I respect that. But we all need help sometimes. And that's what I'm here for."

Her eyes remained on the laptop screen, the number staring back at her. "This isn't just about you, Joe," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I don't want your money, just like I don't want anyone else's money."

Joe pursed his lips together, failing to suppress an eye roll. "You're being ridiculous," he said, his voice tight. "It's not a handout, babe. If you want to think of it like a loan, fine. You can pay me back, and I'll get you something nice with the money. It's yours, you deserve it."

"So every time that I've told you that I didn't need your money, you just... ignored me?" Her voice was laced with anger, her arms crossing over her chest. "Did you think I didn't mean it?"

"Baby," Joe growled lowly, "you're overreacting." His patience was wearing thin. "If your parents or anyone else offered, you'd take it without a second thought, wouldn't you? Why is it different coming from me?"

"No! I wouldn't. It's not different at all!" She snapped, pushing herself away from Joe. The heat of the kitchen seemed to rise around her, and she could feel the anger bubbling up inside her chest. "Didn't I tell you that I've done all of this on my own? I finished undergrad debt-free, I worked during medical school, and took out loans for what I couldn't cover. I've never once asked anyone for a handout, not even my own family!"

Joe stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "And I'm not asking you to start now," he said, his voice rising to match hers. "Just take the money, this one time. It's not like you have to struggle now to make up for the fact that you grew up with more than I did! You don't have to prove anything to anyone, especially not to me."

Her eyes flashed, the words stinging like a slap. "What?" she whispered, the anger in her voice barely contained. "What the hell does that mean?"

Joe sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just...I feel like sometimes you push me away because we grew up differently and, for whatever reason, that makes you feel like you can't take anything from me," he said, his voice strained. "But I'm good now. I have more money than I know what to do with. I take care of my people, and that includes you."

Her eyes narrowed as she took in his words. "I don't need to prove anything to you, Joe," she said, her voice steady. "And I don't push you away because 'we grew up differently'," her fingers air-quoted the phrase. "Maybe my family had a little more money than yours did, or I grew up in a different state, went to different schools, but that doesn't mean we grew up worlds apart. And it certainly doesn't mean that I'm going to let you throw money at my problems just because you think that's what I'm used to."

"That's not what I'm saying," Joe said, his voice rising in frustration. "I'm just trying to help!"

"I don't need your help, Joe! Not like this," Her voice was firm, her irate with irritation. She turned away from him, her hands trembling slightly as tears spilled over her lash line. She walked over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, taking a long sip to cool her anger. The cold liquid slid down her throat, but it did little to ease the burning in her chest.

"I just want you to catch a break," Joe said, his voice tight. "I know you're strong, baby, but everyone needs a break sometimes. You're not weak for letting someone else carry the weight every once in a while."

She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "I know you mean well," she began, her tone measured. "But it's not about the money. It's about the principle. I want to be able to support myself. I don't want to rely on anyone else for my happiness or my security." She turned to face him, her eyes glistening. "If I let you pay for everything, then what happens if things get tough between us? What happens if you get hurt? What if we break up, and I've gotten used to you fixing everything with your money?"

Joe's jaw clenched as he looked at her, his frustration palpable. "You think that's what this is about?" he asked, his voice gruff. "That I'm gonna hold this over your head? That I'd use your financial situation against you?"

She set the water bottle down with a thunk, her eyes meeting Joe's. "Not now," she said, her voice softer. "But maybe in the future. I've seen it happen with other people, Joe. They start taking and taking, then suddenly they start expecting it. They forget that the person they're with had a life before them and they can have one after them too."

"You're not making any fuckin' sense, babe," he grunted, his voice echoing in the kitchen. "Why are you making this about something it isn't? It's just money."

She groaned, "Do you listen to anything I say?" Her eyes searched Joe's, looking for any sign of understanding. "Did any part of this conversation get through to you?"

"I'm listening," Joe said through gritted teeth, his blue eyes stormy. "But that doesn't mean I have to agree with you."

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort of keeping her emotions in check. "You can't just ignore what I'm saying because it doesn't fit with what you think," she said, her voice strained. She turned on her heel, fisting the water bottle as she muttered, "This is why I didn't want to tell you."

Joe stepped closer to her, his hands coming up to frame her face. "Baby, look at me," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'm not ignoring you. I just don't understand why you won't accept help from me."

"You would know if you would listen to me for once," she said, pulling away from Joe's grasp. Her eyes searched his for any sign of clarity, but only found a stubborn resolve. She could feel her anger rising, the walls she had built around her emotions threatening to crumble. "I need a moment," she managed, her voice tight.

Joe sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. "Fine," he said, his tone clipped. He watched as she strode out of the kitchen, her footsteps echoing defeat on the hardwood floor.

She retreated to the bedroom, pacing in the space they had just shared so intimately. The silence was deafening, filled only with the echo of their harsh words and the thud of her heart in her chest. She huffed out a breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside her. Even without him in her direct sight, Joe was everywhere. On her skin, in her mind, and now, in her bank account.

Her hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over her head and discarding the cotton blend fabric onto the floor. Her bare chest heaved with each breath, her brown skin warming in the early morning light that spilled through the bedroom windows. Her hands shook as she reached into her bag, finding a simple hoodie that had made the journey from Cleveland.

Joe remained in the kitchen, the silence thick and oppressive. He knew she needed space, but the urge to follow her, to fix this, was a weight in his chest. It went against his instincts to let her stew alone. He stared at the spot where she had been standing, gnawing on his lower lip, his brain racing with apologies and explanations and a million solutions.

He didn't stand there for much longer before he heard her approaching again. The jingle of her keys was a warning that she was about to leave. Joe steeled himself as she marched back into the kitchen. "I'm going for a drive," she announced, her voice firm. "I need some air."

Joe nodded, his heart heavy. "Okay," he said, his voice low. "But just...don't go too far, okay?"

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, Joe thought he saw a flicker of softness. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and she grabbed her phone from the counter, her shoulders tense. "I'll be fine," she said, her voice cool.

He watched her retreating back, the door clicking shut behind her, and the house fell silent. The echoes of their argument lingered in the air, a bitter taste left in his mouth. Joe walked into the living room, collapsing onto the couch, his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face with his hands. He was torn between anger and guilt, frustration and fear.

They had never argued like this before. Sure, they were both stubborn, but there was always an edge of humor to their disagreements, a playfulness that reminded them of their affection for one another. This was different. This was a crack in the foundation of their relationship, and Joe wasn't sure how to patch it up without making it worse. As he sat on the couch, listening to the quiet hum of the house, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had screwed up big time. He knew she was proud, knew that she valued her independence. He also didn't expect her to jump for joy when he offered his help. But the look on her face when she saw the transfer—that was new. It was a mix of anger, hurt, and disappointment that hit harder than any tackle he'd ever taken on the field.

He rose from the couch eventually, dragging his feet to clean up the mess in the kitchen. The pans clanked as he washed them, his mind racing.

What had he done wrong?

He just wanted to help her, to make her life easier.

Why couldn't she just accept it?

His hands clenched around the dish sponge, squeezing until water dripped out.

Did she really think he would use this against her?

He placed the rinsed dishes in the washer.

Why was she entertaining the possibility that they could break up?

As the washer hummed to life, Joe walked to his room. The crumpled shirt on the floor was a stark reminder of their argument. He picked it up, the fabric still carrying the scent of her perfume, and placed it on the chair. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at the floor. He hated this, hated that he couldn't fix it with a dry quip or a distracting kiss. But he knew her; she needed time to process, to cool down. He had to give her that space, even if it killed him.

His thighs ached, the pain spreading into his lower back as the rhythmic thump of his heart matched the sound of his feet meeting the flat surface of the running belt. The treadmill whirred beneath him, and sweat trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes as he blinked. He had been here for twenty-seven minutes, and counting, his mind racing as much as his legs. The numbers on the digital display blurred together, his breaths heavy and ragged. He wasn't supposed to be working out, much less pushing himself like this on his recovery day, but the pent-up energy and frustration had to go somewhere. The house was too quiet, too empty without her.

Joe knew he had messed up. He knew she didn't need his money; she had made that clear on multiple occasions. What he hadn't anticipated was how much his offer would hurt her. He had seen the walls come up, the barriers she had worked so hard to keep at bay, and he had thrown them up without a second thought. He had been so focused on fixing the problem that he hadn't thought about how she might feel. It was a dumb mistake, one he shouldn't have made with someone he loved as much as he breathed, adored, and loved her.

His ringtone cut through his thoughts, loud, nearly knocking him off the treadmill. He grabbed his phone, expecting it to be his girlfriend, but instead, it was her best friend, Leah. He ignored it, let it ring through to voicemail. He was blessed with a few seconds of silence before it buzzed again. Evidently, she wasn't calling him to chat about the weather.

Leah's text message was short and to the point.

CALL ME BACK.

The urgency in the message was palpable, and Joe's stomach twisted. He didn't need any more drama, not today. With a sigh, he stopped the treadmill and wiped his face with the towel hanging around his neck. He stepped off the machine, his legs feeling like jelly as he made his way to the bedroom to call her back.

Leah picked up on the first ring. "What the hell did you do to her?" Her voice was sharp, accusatory.

Joe's shoulders slumped. "Good morning, Leah," he said wearily, trying to keep his voice steady.

"It is 1:35 in the afternoon. You're not cute, Burrow," she snapped. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but she called me sobbing and couldn't explain what happened, so you're going to tell me right now. What did you do?"

Joe sighed heavily, his hand raking through his hair. "We had an argument," he admitted. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"What did you do, Joe?" Leah repeated.

Joe took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "It's about money," he began, the words feeling heavy on his tongue. "I transferred some to her account without asking because I noticed she was stressed about rent and loans and her card. I just wanted to help."

"Why would you do that?" she said. He could almost see her face, the roll of her eyes, the furrow of her brow. He could hear her call him a name under her breath. "You know how she is about that shit, Joe. You've seen her work herself to the bone to pay for everything herself. I don't understand why she hates financial help, but that's just how she is, and it's what makes her her. It’s something that’s important to her. Did you stop to think for three seconds about how that might make her feel?"

Joe felt the weight of his mistake sink in. "Yeah," he said quietly, his voice thick with regret. "Not long enough, apparently."

"Yeah, no shit, dumbass," Leah's voice was tight with annoyance. "How much was it?"

Joe swallowed hard. "Like, a couple grand," he murmured, the number sounding obscene in the quiet of the room.

Leah's sharp intake of breath was his only response for a moment. "Christ. Joe, she's a doctor, not a charity case," she said, her voice measured. "You can't just throw money at her problems because you think it's a quick fix. If you were feeling that generous, you could've just sent it over to me." The last part was said with a hint of a tease, trying to lighten the mood, but Joe knew she was at least somewhat serious.

"I just wanted to make things easier for her," Joe said, his voice laced with frustration.

"And in doing so, you made it ten times harder," Leah shot back. "Look, Joe, I know you're a good guy, and you're obviously crazy about her, but you can't just bulldoze over her boundaries like they're nothing, regardless of your intentions. Doing so only makes her feel like you don’t value the things that she does."

Joe nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "But what do I do now?"

"You start by actually listening to her," Leah said firmly. "When she says she doesn't want your money, she means it. Her financial situation is only temporary. She'll be out of residency in a year, and things will get significantly easier for her. But until then, you can't just ignore her feelings because you want your knight in shining armor moment. That's not how it works with her; she doesn’t want that from you."

Joe felt the sting of Leah's words, but knew she was right. "Okay," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "What do I say to her?"

"Start with an apology," Leah said, her tone softer now. "A real one, from the heart. Tell her you understand why she's upset and that you won't do it again. And let her know you respect her boundaries. Remind her how much you love her."

Joe nodded, his chest tight with the gravity of the conversation. He released a long exhale through his nose, allowing Leah's words a moment to hang in the air. "Look, Joe," she spoke up again. "I know I'm supposed to be the best friend who keeps you in check, but I'm not mad at you. I understand how frustrating this topic can be with her. But I set you two up for a reason. Don't blow this up and force me to cut you off. I have love for both of you, and I don't wanna be stuck in the middle."

He swallowed hard. "I won't," he said firmly. "I promise."

"Good." Leah's voice was firm. "I told her to turn her ass around and go home to you. She should be on her way."

Relief flood his senses, brushing cool air over his warm face. "Thank you, Leah," Joe said, sincerity coating each syllable. "For everything."

Leah sighed into the phone. "You're welcome," she said. "Oh, and also, don't let her send you that money back. Put your foot down about that, she deserves a break. Just don't try that shit again, 'kay?"

Joe chuckled sarcastically. "Lesson learned," he said. "Thank you, Leah."

Leah's voice softened. "Good luck," she said before hanging up.

He sat on the edge of the bed, holding his phone, staring at the screen. A few moments later, his phone buzzed with a text from her.

I'm on my way back.

The simplicity of the message didn't betray the tumult of emotions he knew she must be feeling. He texted back:

Drive safe.

The words felt inadequate, but he sent them anyway, hoping they'd serve as a lifeline across the digital divide.

As Joe waited for her, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them. He knew he'd have to be more mindful of her feelings, her need for independence. He'd have to find other ways to show her how much she meant to him, beyond the material. But he also knew that she had her own walls to break down, her own compromises to make.

The sound of the garage door opening was music to his ears. He shot up from the bed and made his way to the door, his heart racing like he was running down the field with seconds left on the clock. She walked in, her eyes red and puffy, her shoulders slumped. She didn't look at him, just allowed him to wrap her in his arms. He could feel her tremble, the anger and hurt melting into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, delicate as the brush of a feather. She shook against him, tears wetting his shirt. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, baby."

She didn't push away, but she didn't fully melt into him either. "Why did you do it?" she asked, her voice small and broken. "I was so angry, Joe. So, so angry."

He held her closer, his heart aching with each word. "I just wanted to help," he said, his voice gruff with his own unshed tears. "I should've left it alone, I know." He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent. "But I can't stand seeing you stressed, you know that."

She nodded, her breaths hitching as she tried to hold back the sobs. "I hate fighting with you," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.

Joe's arms tightened around her, his thumbs making gentle circles on her back. "Me too," he murmured. "Do you wanna talk about it? What can I do to make it right?"

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just... I don't want to feel like I owe you anything."

Joe nodded, his eyes serious. "I get it," he said. "I do. And I'm sorry for making you feel that way." He took a step back, giving her the space she needed. "But you don't owe me anything, sweetheart. Ever."

Her eyes looked for the truth in his words. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort of calming down. "I know you didn't mean it like that," she said finally. "But if I'm being honest, it scared me."

Joe's eyebrows furrowed. "Scared you?"

She nodded. "It's just... it's a lot, Joe. The finances, the future, all of it. I don't want to be that girl who's with you for the wrong reasons. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet, and I don't want you to ever feel like you have to save me. I know that I don't earn what I should as a resident. But this is temporary, and I have to learn these lessons before I start making real money."

Joe's eyes searched hers, understanding dawning on his face. He reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "And I'm proud of you for it, honey," he said gently. "You're handling all this stress with more grace than I ever could. You deserve every good thing I can give you. We just need to find a balance."

Her chest tightened at the nickname she had grown so fond of. It felt like a promise, a vow he was making to her right there. She stepped back, wiping her eyes. "Okay," she said, her voice shaky. "I would like you to respect my boundaries, Joe. I can't do this if you don't."

He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I will," he assured her. "I'll always respect you. I love you too much not to. But I want you to know that this is part of being with me. I'm gonna want to share all this with you, on your terms, of course, but I can't change who I am or how much I make."

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she composed herself. "I know," she said, her voice softer now. "And I love you for who you are. But I can't have you making my decisions for me, Joe. That's what it felt like."

He nodded, the gravity of his mistake settling on him like a heavy weight. "I get it," he said, his voice earnest. "I'll be more careful, I promise."

She studied him for a moment, her eyes drifting over his features, as if trying to read the sincerity of his words. Joe's heart was in his throat, hoping she could see the depth of his regret. Finally, she nodded, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Deal, thank you," she said, taking a step towards him, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Leah told me to keep the money this time, but no more, I'm serious."

Joe chuckled, relieved. "Yes, ma'am," he said, kissing her back. "You know she called to chew me out?"

She laughed, a soft, genuine sound that filled the space between them. "Well, it worked, didn't it? I'm surprised she didn't just drive up here herself."

Joe chuckled, his arms still around her. "She can drive up here all she wants, I'm not letting her through. That's practically handing my ass up on a silver platter. No thanks," he said.

Her laugh grew stronger, the tension between them starting to unwind like a tightly wound coil. They stood in the entryway, Joe's heart thumping in his chest, her eyes searching his for any signs of doubt. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her mouth, hoping each touch would be a step closer to mending what had been broken.

[bbddbopp]

Why Some of You Aren't Seeing Results.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨

There is a pattern in the manifestation and subliminal community (mentioning subliminals here since I'm part of that community, and it usually is the gateway that people go through before diving in deep into the manifestation community): people tend to jump from one trending technique or subliminal to another, hoping for quick results, sometimes within days, hours, or even minutes. While exploring different methods and experimenting with new subliminals is perfectly fine – and can even be fun – there’s a difference between casually trying new things and constantly hopping from one to another out of fear and desperation because you haven't seen results after just a few days. If you’re doing this, I can assure you: no matter how many methods you try, you won’t get your desired results.

You tried every methods or techniques that have been brought up to your attention, and whenever someone said "Oh, here's the ACTUAL way to manifest and THIS is the way to get your results instantly" you instantly switched up and pick up another new method to try.

What needs to change is not the methods, what needs to change is YOU.

What does it tells you when you see someone bouncing between methods, blaming the technique or the subliminal for their lack of results?

It tells you that the person lack commitment — the inability to stick with one method and see it through. It tells you that they don’t trust their own power to manifest, so they keep searching for someone else’s approach, hoping it will work for them. It tells you that they lack trust in their own abilities, leading them to rely on "gimmicks" to see if they can get results. It tells you that the person lack accoutability to actually see the core issue of it all which is them using these techniques and subliminals as a crutch - They blame the methods when their manifestations don’t materialize, not realizing that manifestation always works. The only reason it’s not working is because they don’t truly believe it will.

You go on a binge, searching for the next video on manifestation, searching on the next 'perfect' techniques, searching on the next 'magic' subliminals. You told yourself "Well, a lot of people got results from this. And I've been trying this other method for a week and it's not working so let's try this one." You never took responsibility on your lack of commitment because it is so much easier to blame it on the external factors rather than looking inwards.

You might tell yourself that you’re just gathering more information or learning more about the process, but deep down, you know you’re not in a constant state of learning — you’re in a constant state of insecurity. You think you haven’t found the right technique yet, so you keep searching for it. You feel like you don’t know enough, so you search for more. It’s always about “more, more, more” and never about realizing that you already know enough. You understand the law of assumption and how manifestation works. Yet, when you don’t see results after just a few days or a week, you start to doubt the law or the methods, thinking they must be wrong.

But here’s the thing — it’s not the law or the methods that are wrong. What’s wrong is the insecurity that keeps you from trusting your own power. You search for external explanations, not realizing that your own lack of belief and trust in yourself; is what holding you back.

How long are you going to keep jumping from one technique to the next and giving up after only a few days? You've already tried the inconsistent approach, and it hasn’t worked, has it? Isn’t it time to try something different? Isn’t it time to stop relying on external solutions and start taking responsibility for your own manifestations? It’s time to get disciplined, to commit to one method, and to trust that it will work for you. Aren’t you tired of going in circles, falling into the same toxic cycle over and over again?

It’s time to try something different. Try being consistent. Try trusting the process. Try trusting yourself.

The magic isn’t in the method — it’s in you.

When you finally stop searching for the next best thing and start believing that you already have everything you need, your manifestations will begin to flow. You've got what it takes — now it's time to trust that and take the next step forward.

¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ 🦋 ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹ ¹¹¹¹

[brokenmenswhore]

Hi! Are you planning on writing a part 2 to Lessons? It was too good 🥵

lessons | aegon ii targaryen

part 2

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: in search on the streets of silk for your husband, you find his brother in a compromising position

warnings: this is almost pure smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: just wanted to say i’ve been treated to kindly and accepted into this community so wonderfully and so fast. you’ve all restored my faith in humanity. happy to have a place to be horny and angsty and feral without judgement :)

part 1

────── ☾ ──────

Aemond was not in attendance for breakfast. You apologized to Alicent, lying that you had forgotten he had told you he was traveling to Harrenhall first thing.

The truth was, you and Aegon returned to the Red Keep immediately after your rendezvous in the Street of Silk, and you had completely forgotten about Aemond until you arrived to breakfast and were asked about his absence.

“Not to worry,” Alicent smiled, “that boy is impossible, is he not?”

You laughed in response, “that he is.”

Breakfast was pleasant, apart from the constant staring from Aegon. You could tell he was still worked up, and coming back to the Red Keep meant he had to attend to his duties as King, which meant he had to wait.

And Aegon did not like waiting.

About mid-day, you were in the library with your handmaiden, when a member of the King’s Guard came to fetch you.

“His Grace has requested an audience with you in his chambers, My Lady,” he spoke.

You looked at him, confused. “It is but midday.”

The man in armor sighed. “Yes, My Lady.”

“Should he not be working?” you pressed.

“He says this is work related, My Lady.”

You knew better, but you also knew better than to deny your king.

You were escorted to Aegon’s apartment, not bothering to knock before you pushed the double doors open.

“Aegon, it is the middle of the day,” you said, watching as he turned around at the sound of your voice.

“God, finally, you take fucking forever,” he said, marching up to you and grabbing your waist, pulling your body against his as he enveloped you in a heated kiss.

You giggled, “could this not wait until late?”

Aegon continued to pepper kisses around your face and down your neck. “No,” he whined, “need you now. Waited long enough already.”

“Then why didn’t we just- shit, Aegon did you just bite me?” He just laughed in response and continued bruising your neck. “Why didn’t we just stay out then?”

“And face,” kiss, “the wrath,” kiss, “of my mother? Absolutely not,” kiss, “too risky.”

“‘Tis more risky to be caught by your mother away from the castle than to fornicate with your brother’s wife inside of it?”

Aegon paused for a moment and looked up at you. Suddenly, a hand was around your throat, as Aegon roughly pushed you into a wall.

“You’re mine, you know that? You aren’t his. I don’t care if you’re wed,” he pulled one of your legs up to his waist, granting him access to violently shove a finger inside of you, “I’m the one making you feel like this. In private, you’re mine.”

You cried out at the intrusion of his finger, hips bucking forward as you squirmed.

His hand moved from your throat, only for a brief moment, to slap your cheek.

“Do you understand?”

“Y- yes, My King.”

“Good girl.”

Aegon used both hands to grip under your thighs, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around him, and carrying you over to the bed, slamming your back down on the side of it.

“Easy, Aeg.”

Aegon let out a growl at the nickname, “you want me to go easy on you? Is that it? You want me to be nice?” he questioned, “or do you want me to fuck you like you so desperately need to be fucked?”

This filthy words took you by surprise, despite your intimate position.

“I, I don’t-“

Aegon’s eyes searched yours for any sense of doubt at your current predicament. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No! I want to, I do, I just- I’ve only actually done this once, and it wasn’t anything like what I saw today.”

Aegon’s cock hardened at your innocence. Even though you were wed to his brother, your body was his, and your pleasure would now be his and his only.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” was all Aegon said before he ripped your clothes off, doing the same for himself, and crawling on top of you.

“Is this what he did, hm? Is this all he taught you?” he asked, jealousy present as he slowly inserted himself into you, bottoming out and watching your face as you adjusted to his size, “did he get to see you like this? All pretty and teary-eyed? Did he make you feel like this?”

“No,” you whimpered.

Aegon began to move slowly, treating you as if you still had your maidenhood, wanting to warm you up before potentially hurting you.

You sighed and moaned lightly, throwing your head back and allowing Aegon to bite at your neck and shoulder again. “Mine.”

You clawed at his back, the feeling becoming too sweet, wanting more but not too sure how to ask for it.

“What is it, angel?” he noticed your frustrations.

“More,” you pleaded.

He smiled, capturing your lips in a kiss and he began to thrust faster and faster into you.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded.

“G- good,” you responded, inarticulate as you’d ever been.

“Is this how Aemond makes you feel?” he spat.

“N- no,” you responded, “on-on- shit, only you.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, fucking you hard and fast, splitting you open on his cock.

“Aegon?” you caught his attention.

“Mhm?”

“I still feel like I want more,” you sighed out.

Aegon smiled, pulling out of you completely.

“That’s the opposite of m-“

Without warning, Aegon flipped your body, pulling your waist so your ass was against his hardness. His dominate hand reached over your back to press your head into the mattress as he inserted himself back into you, the new sensation from the position making you grow even wetter.

Aegon snapped his hips harshly, watching your entire body fold in half as you lost any strength that was keeping your upper body from going completely slack against the sheets. You cried out at the pleasure, Aegon’s hand finding its way to your hair, balling your hair into his fist as he tugged.

Your neck swung back, not getting the memo.

“Up,” he demanded, pulling even harder at your hair as you helped push yourself up so your back was flush against Aegon’s chest, his cock hitting another new angle.

One of his hands remained on your waist, holding you close, as the other wrapped around your throat, his lips kissing your shoulder.

“Shit, angel, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Would you p- shit, would you please s-stop mentioning Aemond?” you asked, “don’t wanna t-hink about him. Only wanna t-hink ab-about you.”

Your words drove Aegon mad, his thrusts becoming even more erratic and harsh. “Is that what you think of when you feel like this, huh? You think about me?”

“Hm,” you hummed in response, having used all your energy to form your last sentence.

“No one else will ever make you feel like this,” he told you, not leaving any room for any question about it.

“Don’- don’t want anyone else,” you whined.

The hand around your throat found its way in between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned out in pleasure.

“Filthy whore,” he spat, likening you the girls you had seen earlier that day, “you fucking love this, huh?”

Tears began to spill from your eyes from his words, as well as the feeling of his cock splitting you open and his hand working your clit. It was almost too much, but felt so, so good.

“Yes, M-My King.”

“You like being treated like those girls you saw today? Is that it? Poor baby just wants her king to split her open?”

His words made you moan, adding more to your pleasure.

He continued on, hitting a soft, spongy spot within you that felt like heaven.

A coil began to form inside of you, and Aegon could feel your walls tightening around him.

You pawed at him, unsure of what the feeling was, and nervous it meant something was wrong.

“Sh,” he purred, “it’s supposed to feel like that.”

You trusted him, allowing him to continue as the squeezing around his cock led him to his own high. His thrusts became particularly violent, causing the coil of tension to break within you as his seed spilled into you.

You threw your head back into his shoulder, attempting to catch your breath as Aegon stayed inside of you until his cock began to soften.

When he finally pulled out, you both crashed onto the mattress, his body staying close to yours as you finally calmed your breathing down.

“Did you, did you-“ you started, not sure how to phrase it.

“Don’t worry,” he caught your train of thought, “we’ll just get you some moon tea. You won’t end up with a bastard child.”

He completely forgot that you knew nothing about this stuff that he hadn’t already taught you. “What the hell is moon tea?”

[shadowmor]

Mc is not fluent in Japanese part 2

Idea/summary: The Mc/Reader is foreign and knows just enough Japanese to express basics ideas (almost A2 level).

Part 1

-> Hotarubi & Sinostra house

✋️Obviously, this is not canon. Just a scenario idea

Kusanagi Haku

He already had some doubts about you being from outside Japan before interacting, but he quickly confirmed it.

"No, I'm not taking you to a clinic. Yes, to Darkwick, do you know it?"

But instead of seeing you searching on a search engine, he noticed that you typed the institution's name (incorrectly) into an online dictionary. Oh.

"No, Darkwick is an academy."

"Ah."

Before saying goodbye when you were taken to talk to the teachers, he briefly asked what your native language was. – You only understood the reason behind the question when he greeted you in your native language the first time you entered the Hotarubi house.

He studied some greetings (lazily) in case he saw you. If being cursed was already horrible, imagine not being able to express yourself the way you want?

Even if it wasn't much, Haku thought that by learning your language, you would feel less lonely and scared.

Besides, he noticed that his pick-up lines go in one of your ears and out the other since you don’t seem to understand unless it's in a literal sense.

"..."

"..."

"You didn't get it, did you?"

"I just didn’t understand the comparison between me and spring."

"Of course..."

Don’t be surprised if he throws a pick-up line at you in your native language —somehow, he sounds quite fluent in that aspect. (Maybe the color change on your cheeks and ears when you hear it is part of his motivation to practice more.)

Overall, Haku is a great teacher. Extremely patient with your mistakes and playfully teasing in a way that doesn’t make you feel mocked.

Oh? Speaking to me in such a casual tone... are you implying that we are actually closer than I imagined?"

Haku hates working more than necessary, let alone studying. But well, he won’t say no to a study date with you.

That is, until he realizes that you two weren’t the only ones in this study session. He looked at you strangely as you brought the Frostheim newbies.

"Maybe I misunderstood, MC. Wasn’t it just the two of us?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, not really." It was.

He also learned to say your name correctly on the first try, just like Tohma.

Haku seems to know a mix of languages, from the most well-known to those he selected out of personal interest (yours made it onto the list).

Subaru Kagami

Although I sometimes doubt that Subaru's external personality is completely genuine, I'll write assuming it is.

At first, he didn’t realize you were a foreigner. Like Alan, he vaguely thought you just weren’t good with words. – For a moment, he felt identified.

But doubts arose when you two started communicating directly. A few pronunciation mistakes here and there, confusing text messages, and the fact that Haku always greeted you in another language made him suspect.

"Hm."

"What’s wrong, Subaru?"

"If I'm wrong, please don't take it personally, maybe I misunderstood. MC, are you from another country?"

"Yes"

Subaru quickly joined the study group, even though he firmly stated that he wouldn’t be very helpful, but demonstrated the complete opposite.

He is a great teacher, simple and direct in explaining grammatical sentence structures or the meaning behind some kanji simbols.

Studying with him is always nice because, in the end, fresh tea and some cookies are ready for your break.

He rarely corrects you outside of study hours, and when he does, he always seems reluctant or annoyed with himself.

If he’s with you and someone misunderstands you, he’ll try to clarify the situation.

Subaru already wanted to study your language to get closer to you and make you feel more comfortable, but what really pushed him was hearing you murmur in your native tongue —he found the intonation so beautiful.

Certainly, it would be a shame if you couldn’t speak in such an expressive way.

Like Alan (again), he prefers learning directly, but to avoid being a bother, he also studies through other resources. – Haku brought some textbooks he found in the library.

He only mispronounced your name twice.

Zenji Kotodama

The best of the best 🙌

He thought it was just a peculiar way of your speaking, but he admires that you went to another country despite not being fluent.

Although his songs may seem a bit confusing, they actually help you correct your pronunciation because he enunciates each syllable slowly.

He sometimes follows you around the academy to keep you away from trouble caused by your lack of comprehension.

"No, no, no, gal! This young man understood something else! Repeat after me so he doesn’t get confused."

He asked you to sing in your native language—he found it nice and tried to imitate it. (It sounded more like phonetic gibberish.)

Now you've been admitted to work with Haku in managing Zenji’s posts!

Congratulations, you're now responsible for adding subtitles to his video-songs in your language. The more people who understand and appreciate the meaning of his words, the better the world will be, right? He needs to touch more hearts.

Zenji is better at explaining the meanings of symbols than strict grammar, but he's still good.

"Oh, my dear. It’s not this, it’s this here. Write it again."

He pronounces your name in an overly dramatic way

He doesn’t mind if you speak to him casually (even if it’s by mistake).

When he accompanies you to the library, you just need to point at a symbol, and he will express what it means. (Maybe his metaphors confuse you, but he will try to be clearer if he notices your confusion.)

---------------------‐----------------------------------------------

Taiga Hoshibami

You almost got grazed by a bullet when you spoke informally to him upon entering the casino for the first time.

Interacting with Taiga is a bit unsettling —one moment, he's laughing at your funny way of speaking, and the next, he’s pressing a gun to your forehead, ordering you to speak properly.

He doesn’t correct you; he genuinely enjoys watching you mess up. Sometimes, he pretends not to understand just to see you desperately trying to replace the word you used.

You might end up being subconsciously registered in his mind as the girl who speaks funny. (Not a good thing. If your Japanese improves, he might pull out his gun again in your next conversation. Better be known as the kitten.)

He might start pointing at objects, waiting (forcing) you to say their names with your flawed pronunciation.

No, he still doesn’t remember your name. If he already struggles to remember the honor student’s title, imagine a foreign name.

Like Subaru, he heard you murmuring in your native language and immediately asked you to speak like that while using your thighs as a pillow. But don’t try saying anything funny—Taiga is extremely sharp to know when someone is making fun of him.

If someone mocks the way you speak while he's around and still remembers who you are, someone’s going to need medical attention. It should only be funny for him.

Taiga seems to know other languages; he might know yours, but I highly doubt he’ll speak it with you—unless he has a real reason to threaten you.

Romeo Lucci

The audacity you have to speak to him so casually using his first name.

Romeo likely knows other languages, being a noble businessman that he is.

He knew you were foreign at first glance and pronounces your name correctly after hearing it once.

You were truly an annoying thing—not just because of your writing mistakes in the reports, but also because even after he explained abbreviations, you still seemed confuse.

"You are such a WOE!!"

"..." Just from your expression, he knew you didn’t understand.

"Waste Of Effort!!"

Yet, there was that same blank look—how the hell did you not get it, even when he patiently explained?

If he knows your language, he might make a slight effort to communicate about necessary matters using it — like Kaito’s routine or about a mission

His corrections always come through frustrated sighs or yelling.

Yet, he somehow always returns your reports corrected, helping you understand what symbols you got wrong.

Ritsu Shinjo

He possibly knows other idioms —a lawyer must be aware of their client’s needs in any circumstance! How would he defend someone without understanding what they’re saying?

He still has your audio response to his question about you being a foreigner (why).

If he has time, he will join your study group. However, he already corrects you in any communication you two have.

Ritsu corrects you directly, pointing out the mistake and the solution. He doesn’t really care about how he’s explaining things or whether you feel embarrassed—similar to Jin in that aspect. Why are you embarrassed? He’s helping you.

As his business partner, your communication must be clear, objective, and efficient.

So, if he doesn’t know your language, he will find ways to learn it. You found it amusing that, just because you’re his associate, he spends nights studying your language. (And he doesn’t understand why that surprised you.)

Despite his "lawyer-like" demeanor, Ritsu is very helpful. He gathers books for you, ranging from basic to advanced Japanese.

He mispronounced your name a few times (maybe three in total).

.

.

.

Sorry, maybe i did wrote too much. Please forgive me for any grammar mistakes TT

[mercifulstate]

SNAP OUT OF IT!

A sweet little reminder for you guys ~ I like posting reminders for the community because I know there are those just like me.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　 I. DOUBTS It’s completely okay to feel uncertain. It’s completely okay to feel frustrated. It’s completely okay to vent. But let me remind you — every successful LOA blogger, every seasoned manifester have been where you are, hell even I'm still at the "beginning of my journey". Thanks to @gorgeouslypink (I read their doubts post and it's so helpful xx), my perspective on doubts have changed. Doubts are a natural part of the journey; when we drown ourselves in too much information or overcomplicate what is, at its core, beautifully simple — these doubts are bound to form. But here’s the truth: you are the one in control. The 3D isn’t here to defeat you — it’s here to challenge you, to test your resolve. And every time you rise above it, you prove your power. Imagine yourself as the CEO of your reality. You don’t need techniques, success stories, or endless methods. You only need you.

II. 'HOW TO?' You don’t need to chase or search for endless “how-to” guides! The only thing that truly matters is understanding the essence of LOA and following what resonates with you. Do what feels natural and empowering. For me, the I AM state is what makes me feel comfortable, it's what resonates with me. But even if I "haven't entered" it, I know that the 3D is just reflecting a temporary illusion. The reality? It’s already done. Always has been. Trust in that. It really is that simple.

III. SUBCONSCIOUS Your subconscious mind is the limitless power behind your reality, faithfully shaping your world according to your deepest assumptions and beliefs. It does not argue, question, or resist — it simply accepts what you impress upon it as truth and reflects it back into your 3D experience. This is why Neville Goddard taught that imagination is the key to creation. Your only job is to decide what you wish to experience, accept that it is already yours, and believe that your subconscious will effortlessly bring it to life. There are no limits, no obstacles — only the reality you "currently claim" as true. The moment you fully accept your desire as done, the 3D rearranges itself to make it so.

IV. THE LOA COMMUNITY In this journey, you will come across those who try to shake your beliefs — people who lie about their experience, gaslight, and spread doubts, whether intentionally or out of their own limiting beliefs. Some will tell you it’s impossible, that you’re doing it wrong, that you need to struggle or anything that is quite literally limiting. But here’s the truth: you are the operant power. The Law is always working, whether you believe in it or not, so why not choose to believe in your own limitless nature? If someone tries to plant seeds of doubt, remind yourself that you get to define what is true. You have the power to assume they are simply mistaken, and in doing so, their words hold no weight in your reality. The essence of the Law of Assumption is simple — what you accept as real must and will become your experience. So stand firm in your knowing. No external noise can take away the truth: you are already everything you desire to be.

V. VICTIM MENTALITY The moment you see yourself as a victim, you give away your power. It’s easy to fall into the trap of blaming circumstances, doubting yourself, or feeling stuck and helpless — but none of that defines you. The truth is, you are not powerless. You are in control! Your assumptions shape your reality, and the story you tell yourself is the one that plays out. So ask yourself — are you reinforcing limitations, or are you stepping into the version of you who knows they are in charge? The past doesn’t matter. The doubts don’t matter. The only thing that matters is what you choose to accept as true right now. Let go of the excuses. Let go of the old story. You are far more powerful than you’ve been giving yourself credit for, and the second you decide to own that, everything changes.

VI. HOPING/MAYBE/TRYING Hoping, trying, and saying maybe WILL KEEP YOU STUCK IN A CYCLE. They imply uncertainty, hesitation, and a lack of trust in your own power. When you say, "I hope this works," or "I'll try," you're unknowingly affirming that you’re not sure if you can have what you want — and that doubt reflects in your reality. Manifestation isn’t about hoping and trying; it’s about deciding and accepting. The moment you shift from “I hope” to “I know” and from “I’ll try” to “It’s already done,” everything aligns. There is no room for uncertainty when you recognize that you are the one in control. Let go of the in-between. Choose certainty. The version of you who has it all isn’t hoping — they are living it.

VII. SUMMARY You are the operant power, the one in control of your reality. Doubts, external noise, and even the lies of others cannot take away what is already yours — unless you let them. The 3D may test you, but it holds no real power over you. The only thing that matters is what you accept to be true. Stop doom-scrolling for proof, stop searching for validation, stop relying on other people’s experiences to convince you that this works. Their success is not what makes the Law real — you do. Every second you spend looking for reassurance is a second you could be using to step into your power, to start living your life. Let go of the victim mindset, stop hoping and trying, and start deciding and accepting. There is no need to complicate things. You don’t need endless techniques, outside approval, or anyone’s permission. All you need is you. The moment you fully accept your power, everything shifts. So stand tall, trust yourself, and walk forward with confidence — because you’ve already won.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

And just in case no one has told you today: you are doing amazing, and you are so much more powerful than you think. You got this sweet bats! xoxo

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 8

Jaune: *trying to leave*

Glynda: And where do you think you are going, young man?

Jaune: *sigh* Professor Goodwitch, We are still technically the weekend and i highly doubt my co-dependency is enjoying... Whatever we are doing.

Penny: *Smiling* Oh do not mind me friend Jaune, i'm fine going wherever you want to go!

Glynda: *sigh* Jaune, this is very important if you want to stay in Beacon. We can't risk you having a panic attack, or something similar, in the middle of a mission.

Jaune: Glyn- *cough* I mean, professor Goodwitch, i understand the importance of mental stability, but meditation isn't something i can easily do when... Well... *Point at Penny* i need to concentrate on repairing her mind.

Glynda: ... Quite. *Sigh* You may go, but i want you in my office the second you are available.

Jaune: *Nod* Will do, ma'am.

___________________________________________

Penny: *walking in the streets of Vale with Jaune* Why did you lie to her? She could have helped us against Roman!

Jaune: *looking at a map* Your communications are out?

Penny: Since yesterday, yes-

Jaune: I already have a deal with Roman.

Penny: *frowning* You made a deal with him? Why?!

Jaune: *taking little alleys and backstreets* Well, who's better than him to give me information on Cinder? Not only that, but i also asked him to use his contacts to dig up dirt on Lionheart.

Penny: That's also something i don't really get, why aren't you telling Osc-, *shaking her head* i mean Ozpin, about everything?

Jaune: *sigh* You don't have all the information, Penny. You only got my memory of when you were there... Beside, you saw how competent he was with choosing his allies.

Penny: *computing* That's... Fair. But what about Glynda?

Jaune: *shaking his head* Too loyal... In fact- *pick up a rock on the ground* the only one i could trust- *turn around and aim for the suspicious looking Crow* Is a dusty old alcoholic! *Throw the stone directly at Qrow's bird form head, making him fall on the ground*

Qrow: *transforming back into his human form* Oof! *Looking up at the teen* Don't you know you shouldn't harass wild life?

Jaune: *smiling* Don't you know it's impolite to listen to private conversation?

___________________________________________

Qrow: *blinking* Wait... You come from the future?

Jaune: *shaking his head* I'm Jaune from the present. Or at least, the body is. My memories, on the other hand, are from the future*Think about his time in the ever after* ... mostly.

Qrow: ... *Goes to take a sip of alcohol*

Jaune: *frown* You should stop that, Summer would be pissed.

Qrow: *looking at Jaune* Now listen here punk, using my dead friend's name is not-

Jaune: She's alive.

Qrow: ... What?

Jaune: She's in hiding, since she got the summer maiden power and-

Qrow: *angry* WHAT!?

Jaune: *surprised by the reaction* Qrow, calm down! It's not as if she had a choice!

Qrow: DID OZPIN KNOW!?

Jaune: No! No, he doesn't. Heck, you should know since you've been searching for the Maidens a majority of your huntsman life.

Qrow: I... BUT... *Sigh* Fucking hell.

Jaune: *sweating* Your sister, on the other hand-

Qrow: That bitch!

___________________________________________

Ozpin: -and you are certain about this?

Qrow: *a glass of water in hand* About 97% sure. The kid isn't a spy from Salem.

Glynda: *still looking at the glass of water as if the world stopped spinning* ... Did... Did something else happen? Like a divine intervention or a miracle?

Qrow: *stifled a laugh* Nothing like that, i just thought i should cut back a bit. *Thinking back at the stone* My reflexes aren't as sharp as i thought.

[bluemantics]

Hunk can see wholeness in broken things.

When he was a kid, his mother taught him to cook, and she’d take his hands in her soft, calloused ones and guide him to slice an onion or peel a carrot. Her deep, brown eyes watched every move he made with fondness as he desperately tried to replicate her seemingly perfect technique. He anxiously sat by the stove as she stirred all the ingredients in a big, metal pot. 

After they’d finished, Hunk remembered the anxiety that nestled in his chest, squeezing his heart while he waited for her to take the first bite. She’d dipped her spoon straight into the soup and lifted it gingerly to her lips, a whisper of breath curling over it that blew steam off it in spirals. 

When she tasted it, her eyes lit up, widening with joy that Hunk would carry with him to school and to the desert and to space and back home. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t actually cooked it alone or that his mom had to work the stove. Hunk had taken all these things and made them something new, something whole. “Wonderful job, my little chef.” She ruffled his hair. 

So, Hunk continued cooking. He found love and pride he could only communicate in food. Little labors of dicing tomatoes, mixing sesame and soy, slathering chicken in herbs and spices, it was all a language Hunk spoke fluently, a way for him to communicate when his tongue failed and his nerves tightened. 

Then, he grew up, and cooking wasn’t enough. It was an escape, but it wasn’t realistic. However, the Garrison was. His mama and mom argued a lot over what was right for him. Mom said he would be fine at home, but Mama disagreed, told her that they should foster the first sign of ambition Hunk was showing.

Hunk wasn’t sure if he’d call it ambition. All he knew was that being a chef hadn’t worked out for Mom, what with her late nights in their dimly lit kitchen, clutching letters she’d failed to answer. His moms had provided so much for him. Being a chef… probably wouldn’t enable him to return on any of that. 

Eventually, his Mama won, and Hunk was set for the Garrison. There, he learned a new language, of tools and tech and cogs. Just like cooking, he was shockingly good at creating something new from all the metal parts and circuit boards. Engineer, though not his first choice, fit him just as well as chef. Teachers fawned over his creations, and his new teammate, Lance McClain, raved about how “dope” and “radical” his projects were. 

Hunk loved his new teammates. Lance was hilarious, totally different from all the people he’d grown up around. He was unafraid to speak his mind and take action in a way that Hunk was envious of. If he’d get his act together in the simulators, Lance would probably have made fighter pilot. Pidge was cool, too, even if he didn’t speak much. 

So, Hunk continued building. He pieced together plans and projects by day and cooked for Lance and Pidge at night. He collected all the parts he needed to make a life for himself in this strange, militaristic place, despite never picturing himself even adjacent to a soldier.

Yeah. Ironic.

Then, Hunk found himself a soldier, fighting a war 9,983 years older than his lifespan. Soldier fit much worse than engineer or chef. He didn’t put anything together on the battlefield, didn’t understand the language of violence or bullets. Every cry of pain was muffled in his aching eardrums. Armor fit him poorly, feeling more like a cage than a defensive wall. Over and over, he looked around, searched for the pieces he could shape together to make warfare understandable, digestible. His teammates seemed to have no problems with it, making strategies and executing missions without doubt or fear. Hunk just had to think, he had to adapt, he had to puzzle, he had to plan, he had no choice, where did it start? Where did it end? What is waiting for him on the other side of this, when the puzzle’s been fixed and the team has— 

The team. That was it. They functioned like a group of individuals. If anything, Hunk knew people. He wasn’t Lance, all hyper-EQ and intense awareness, but he had his own thing: approachability. 

If they were going to be in space for an indefinite amount of time, Hunk would piece together a team.

So he cooked. He made dinners, a place where they were forced to spend time together and talk like normal teenagers. He fed Allura and Coran and Shiro comfort foods during late-night episodes of nightmares.

So he built. He tinkered with his lion, fixed her up while chatting with Pidge and Keith, lending an ear to their worries and their silences alike. 

And when he got tired, he leaned on Lance, who would smile knowingly and say, “Nice work, buddy.” 

Even if war would never become understandable, Hunk would make it quieter during the off-moments. He’d fix something else, with hands passed on from his mom, calloused and gentle.

[crunchystarz]

Runs and trips and falls

(out of breath) may I please request hurt comfort with Idia (gender neutral reader) it doesn't matter what I'm a poor orphaned boy who must be fed

"only you"

Idia Shroud x GN!reader| oneshot

Summary- Idia seems to be avoiding you and you don't know why.

Cw- hurt/comfort, poor communication, Idia is bad with feelings, reader is yuu

Word count: 1622

A/N: we are so back chat, hope you enjoy!

School was taking a huge toll on you. At one point you were just a regular college student, until you were transported to a completely different world. By some “luck” you still had to do school work. However everything was slightly altered here.

Going to Night Naven College was like being a black sheep among a herd of white sheep. Everyone knew what they were doing. You on the other hand were still trying to catch-up. You had no magic and little knowledge of anything that this world had to offer.

On top of that you were living in a run down dorm with just enough money to survive. To say you were tired was an understatement. However there was one light in your life that kept you going.

Idia Shroud. He was socially anxious, shut in who with no doubt could be a little rude sometimes was your best friend. You'd often spend your time at Ignihyde. You'd listen to the guy rant about some game he was playing or other times you two would just sit in a comfortable silence.

You don't know why but being around Idia calmed your mind. If you could describe him he'd be like the eye of a hurricane. The one safe and peaceful point. He was an anchor to you; he grounded you in this unfamiliar place.

You couldn't explain truly he just made you feel…human.

So when he started to ignore you. It hurt…real bad. He'd not pick up or return your calls at first. Not out of the ordinary he sometimes did that. He'd not reply to your texts, even after you clearly saw that he received your message. It honestly made you anxious.

Maybe you were reading way too much into it. That was until you were at a meeting that for some reason required you to be involved.

You smiled when you saw the familiar blue flames of hair. When you went to go talk to him however he just walked away. It shattered your heart in a way you couldn't understand.

He was ignoring you. And it stung so fucking bad. Your safe place was…ignoring you.

Soon that became the only thing you could think about. What could you have done to upset him? Did your usual teasing actually get him mad or upset bim? Did he hate you? You didn't know and it was driving you crazy.

You couldn't find a reason for Idia to just flat out start avoiding you. Seriously, what could you have done? Over time he stopped reading your messages all together.

It felt like a knife straight through your heart. Eventually you just focused on school, letting the work consume you. While you had other friends, yes , they didn't have the same bond you and Idia shared.

You tried to ignore the aching in your heart. The way you'd feel so empty when he wasn't around. It was weird. Felt so odd to not have him talk to you about some new niche anime or have him rest in your lap while you watched him play a game.

Those were moments you cherished. And you'd replay those memories over and over trying to search for where you screwed up , for why he'd start to distance himself

—

You groaned, you didn't know what you were doing. Maybe it's just your sleep deprived brain that dragged you here. You should turn back. But just as you decided of course you were stopped by a hand gripping into your uniform.

“[Name] what a wonderful surprise!” A voice chirped.

Your eyes widened before you turned the other way. “ Hi Ortho, I was actually about to get going sorry” you spoke, patting his head.

“Oh but, it's been so long since I've seen you! I'm sure my brother feels the same way why don't you come In please “

“Ortho wait..” Ah who were you kidding you couldn't resist the way his eyes looked so sad. You let him pull you along even if your insides are screaming to go the other way. Yet that small part of you went along because you missed being there.

“w-what are you doing here?” Squeaked a familiar voice.Your heart basically stopped actually seeing Idia. Your mouth felt dry and your legs started to shake. You didn't know why.

You didn't even realize tears started to fall down your cheeks.

Idia’s golden eyes widened in panic as he saw the tears streaming down your face. He froze, his nervous fidgeting intensifying as his hands gripped the edges of his hoodie like a lifeline. His blue flames flickered.

“I'm sorry— I just” you hiccuped. Embarrassed, you tried to wipe away your tears but they just kept falling.

“W-why the heck are you crying?” he stammered, his voice rising slightly in pitch. His gaze darted everywhere. You couldn't help but cry harder at his words. He awkwardly moved closer to you.

You didn't clock the fact you yourself were moving closer before you latched yourself into his body in a hug. Burying your face into his chest while you continued to sob uncontrollably.

The weight of every stressful event that has happened up until this point finally got to you, just seeing Idia was the tipping point. You were so exhausted truly. You sniffled into his hoodie as he awkwardly wrapped an arm around you. As if you were a fragile piece of glass and if he handled you wrong you'd shatter.

You pulled away enough to look Idia in his eyes, his yellow ones looked concerned and conflicted. “Why- have” you paused for a moment. “Why have you been ignoring me…” your voice cracked and it almost came out like a broken whisper.

“I- uh I… “ The house warden started. His mouth opened and closed but words never left him. He ran a hand through his hair struggling to come up with the right words.

His frown deepened when you started to cry a bit harder, hesitant he went to reach out for you. You let him pull you close to him again.

“Look It's not…you. It's just I thought it would be better if I just…” he mumbled eyes farting everywhere but your form. Your grip on his hoodie tightened.

“Why would that be better, why would ignoring me be better;,do you know how much that hurt me?” You choked. Idia cringed and just sighed. Guilt flashing across his face.

“I know …I know. I hurt you and I'm really really sorry I just…” words seemed to be caught in his throat. He couldn't explain how he felt to you. It was so nerve-wracking and he'd only make things worse. He hurt you, but you deserved to know.

He mumbled something under his breath , something you couldn't make out.

“What was that?”

“I like like you okay, like I want you to be part of my party way, like if we were in a dating sim your hearts would be maxed out time of like— and I just thought I'd never stand a chance and that you deserve someone who isn't so…me, that it would be better if you just would forget about me” He stammered out, pink creeping into his pale cheeks.

You were stunned and for a moment you could just stare at him. He flinched and looked away at your gaze.

“It just thought it would be easier…” he muttered just above a whisper. His golden eyes finally met you when you started to laugh through your tears.

“Idia you idiot! Why would I care about that?” You giggled breathlessly, wiping away your tears and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Well you're just so amazing [Name]! I'm some shut in who can't properly socialize, I'd mess everything up if I -”

Idia’s brain short-circuited when you cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. His hair flashed pink as your soft lips met his blue ones. He didn't know how to react. He could have died right there.

“I like you too you dummy, and I wouldn't have it any other way so…please don't shut me out again “ You said looking him in the eyes, your voice getting quieter at the last few words.

The house warden brought a hand to his lips and nodded. A small smile tugged at your lips and you couldn't help the small laugh that left your throat at his flustered state.

“But…”

“No buts, I don't want any ‘better’ I want you Idia, nothing is going to change that” you spoke softly, hands picking up his own. He opened his mouth but immediately shut it, not trusting himself enough for the right words to leave his mouth.

“Okay…I-I'm sorry for being a coward…” he mumbled the apology. You just smiled and shook your head. Sighing you leaned into him more and rested your head on his chest again.

Slender arms wrapped around you tightly, Idia rested his head on yours as well. You two stayed silent just matching one anothers breathing taking in each other. You were where you belonged. Your safe place. Your anchor.

“I love you” you whispered, but you made sure he could hear. The blush across his face became redder, embarrassed he buried his face in your hair. After a moment he had enough courage to respond.

“I…love you too…could you…kiss me again “ he spoke meekly. You giggled and cupped his face in your hands before pulling him into another kiss. This onez more soft and meaningful. The house warden basically melted in your touch.

“You're so cute, you know that” You teased, pulling away never letting go of his face. His hands rested on yours as his eyes looked around too embarrassed to meet your face.

“You're going to kill me…

MASTERLIST

[royreadstarot]

❝ PICK A PILE ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

(Relationship Dynamics Edition)

Are you wondering how is the dynamic of your relationship, how to make it work and what will you learn? Pick a crystal!

Pile 1:

Your Energy: Queen of Cups

As the Queen of Cups, you’re embodying deep emotional intelligence and sensitivity. This card represents someone who is nurturing, intuitive, and compassionate. You’re likely bringing warmth and understanding to the relationship, offering support and empathy even in challenging moments. Your intuition is strong, and you may have an almost psychic sense of what the other person is feeling. This energy draws people in, as they feel safe and seen in your presence. However, the Queen of Cups also reminds you to set emotional boundaries and be cautious of losing yourself in the needs of others. While your caring nature is a gift, it's crucial to maintain your own emotional clarity and self-care practices.

Their Energy: Sun (Reversed)

With the Sun reversed, they may be dealing with confusion or a loss of clarity in their life. Where the Sun typically represents warmth, confidence, and openness, in reverse, it suggests self-doubt, hidden fears, or an inability to fully express themselves. They could be struggling to see the positive aspects of the relationship or their own potential, which could make them seem distant or even pessimistic. This card might indicate that they’re dealing with a period of introspection or searching for personal purpose. Their energy might feel a bit cloudy, and they could be guarded or hesitant, especially when it comes to opening up emotionally. This reversal encourages patience, as they may need time to find their way back to a brighter mindset.

Dynamics of the Relationship: The Chariot (Reversed)

The Chariot in reverse suggests a sense of stagnation or conflicting goals. While both of you may have strong feelings, there could be a struggle to align on a common direction. This card in reverse often points to a lack of control or feeling pulled in different directions, either by external pressures or personal ambitions. The relationship may feel like it’s spinning its wheels without gaining real traction. Miscommunication, unresolved tensions, or resistance to compromise may be stalling your progress as a couple. It’s a reminder that both parties need to actively steer the relationship to keep it moving forward and avoid getting lost in misunderstandings or ego battles. You both may need to evaluate your personal needs and decide on a shared path or purpose.

How to Make it Balance: The Moon

The Moon here invites you both to face your fears, insecurities, and hidden emotions to achieve balance. It calls for a deeper level of honesty and vulnerability in the relationship. There may be elements that are not entirely clear to either of you, whether it's unspoken feelings or underlying fears. By acknowledging these shadow aspects, you can better understand each other and bring a sense of unity to the relationship. The Moon also suggests that intuition and patience are key. Rely on your inner wisdom rather than trying to force clarity or immediate solutions. This journey may require you to be comfortable with ambiguity and to communicate openly about your uncertainties, both with each other and within yourselves. It’s a phase of growth through introspection, shedding light on hidden truths, and allowing space for authenticity.

Learning Outcome from the Relationship: Strength

Strength as the learning outcome highlights resilience, courage, and inner balance. This relationship is teaching you to cultivate self-confidence, compassion, and emotional endurance. Strength embodies taming inner fears and harnessing the power of vulnerability. You are likely learning how to maintain your own sense of self while offering kindness and understanding to another. Through this relationship, you’ll gain a deeper appreciation for emotional resilience and personal integrity. It may challenge you to find balance within, drawing on inner strength rather than relying solely on external validation. Ultimately, this connection is likely to make you stronger, wiser, and more centered in your values, preparing you for future relationships and personal growth.

Pile 2:

Your Energy: Queen of Cups (Reversed)

As the Queen of Cups reversed, your energy in this relationship suggests that you may be feeling emotionally unbalanced, perhaps struggling to manage your own needs and desires. This reversal points to emotional sensitivity, which might manifest as feeling overly reactive, insecure, or unable to fully express your true feelings. You could be taking on more emotional weight than is healthy, potentially sacrificing your own well-being in an attempt to support or understand the other person. In this reversed state, the Queen of Cups encourages you to reconnect with your inner voice, regaining emotional control by setting healthy boundaries and ensuring you’re not pouring more than you’re receiving. This card is a reminder that self-care and emotional grounding are essential, especially when it comes to maintaining equilibrium within yourself.

Their Energy: 8 of Pentacles (Reversed)

The 8 of Pentacles reversed suggests that they may be lacking focus or commitment in the relationship. This card typically represents hard work, dedication, and attention to detail; however, in reverse, it can indicate disinterest, avoidance, or a reluctance to invest deeply. They might be preoccupied with other areas of their life, or they could be feeling uncertain about putting in the necessary effort to maintain or grow the relationship. There’s a sense here that they may not be showing up fully, possibly distracted or unwilling to work through relationship challenges. This energy calls for reflection on whether they’re ready or willing to truly invest, or if they are holding back from committing on a deeper level.

Dynamics of the Relationship: The High Priestess

The High Priestess card in this position suggests that there are unspoken feelings, hidden truths, or underlying tensions in your relationship. It indicates a mysterious, introspective dynamic, where intuition and inner knowing play significant roles. The High Priestess speaks to a deep, almost spiritual connection, yet one that may not always be easily understood or communicated. This card points to secrets, repressed emotions, or unaddressed issues that lie beneath the surface. Both of you might be holding back parts of yourselves, choosing instead to silently observe and reflect rather than openly confront. While there is a strong, almost magnetic connection, there may be a reluctance to dive into certain conversations or to reveal vulnerabilities. The High Priestess encourages both of you to trust your intuition and to allow these hidden layers to unfold naturally.

How to Make it Balance: Three of Swords

The Three of Swords as guidance for balance is a challenging but essential message. This card represents pain, heartbreak, and difficult truths, suggesting that for true balance, painful emotions must be acknowledged and processed. There may be unresolved hurts or disappointments that need to come to the surface for healing. Rather than avoiding conflict or glossing over issues, it’s vital to face whatever heartache or discomfort exists between you openly and honestly. This might mean confronting unmet expectations, previous wounds, or misunderstandings head-on. While the process may be emotionally intense, it’s also a chance for healing and closure. This card emphasizes that without addressing these underlying pains, true harmony cannot be achieved. It encourages emotional courage and honesty to bring clarity and release.

Learning Outcome from the Relationship: Ten of Cups (Reversed)

The Ten of Cups reversed as the learning outcome points to a significant realization about fulfillment, happiness, and idealism in relationships. In its upright position, the Ten of Cups represents lasting joy and contentment, yet in reverse, it suggests disillusionment or unmet expectations. This relationship may be teaching you about the dangers of placing too much weight on idealized visions of happiness or fulfillment through another person. There may be an important lesson here about creating your own sense of inner contentment rather than relying on external sources or relationships to provide it. You may come to understand that true happiness doesn’t stem solely from others or from romantic ideals; rather, it must be cultivated within. Through this relationship, you’re likely to learn the importance of realistic expectations, self-fulfillment, and emotional independence. This experience can ultimately guide you toward a more grounded, authentic perspective on what it truly means to be happy in a relationship.

Pile 3:

Relationship Tarot Reading

Your Energy: Four of Cups

With the Four of Cups, you may be feeling emotionally detached, withdrawn, or unfulfilled in the relationship. This card represents a sense of stagnation or apathy, as though something about the connection isn’t quite meeting your needs or expectations. You could be focused on what feels lacking or unsatisfactory rather than seeing what’s present. There may be feelings of boredom or a reluctance to engage deeply, possibly stemming from unresolved emotions or unmet desires. The Four of Cups encourages introspection to understand where this disconnect is coming from. Are there unaddressed issues, or is there something within yourself that needs attention and healing? By turning inward and reflecting on your true emotional needs, you can gain clarity on what will genuinely fulfill you.

Their Energy: Nine of Swords (Reversed)

The Nine of Swords reversed shows that they might be emerging from a period of anxiety, worry, or mental anguish. This card suggests they’ve likely been wrestling with internal struggles—perhaps fears or insecurities that have kept them in a cycle of self-doubt. In its reversed form, the Nine of Swords indicates a willingness to confront and release these anxieties, though they may still feel somewhat guarded or fragile. While they’re starting to let go of past worries or overthinking, they may not yet be fully open or confident, as traces of this struggle could still be affecting how they show up in the relationship. They are in a healing process, working on moving beyond these mental barriers to be more present and grounded. Compassion and understanding of their journey can be helpful here, as they navigate this inner turmoil.

Dynamics of the Relationship: Queen of Pentacles (Reversed)

The Queen of Pentacles reversed suggests a lack of stability or grounding in the relationship, likely due to unmet practical or emotional needs. This card in reverse can indicate neglect or a sense that nurturing energy has been lost, with one or both partners possibly feeling unsupported or taken for granted. There might be an imbalance in the giving and receiving within the relationship, leading to feelings of exhaustion or frustration. This reversed Queen points to a need for both partners to prioritize care, nurturing, and a sense of shared responsibility. The dynamics may feel materially or emotionally “off,” with each of you potentially more focused on individual needs than on fostering a mutually supportive foundation. There’s a reminder here to cultivate a relationship that feels both nurturing and secure, rather than one based on convenience or neglect of essential needs.

How to Make it Balance: Three of Pentacles

The Three of Pentacles encourages collaboration, teamwork, and building a shared foundation to bring balance to the relationship. This card is a call to work together constructively, appreciating each other’s strengths and contributions. It suggests that open communication and a willingness to actively engage in solving issues together are key. Rather than trying to manage everything independently, it’s important to view the relationship as a partnership where both partners invest effort and share responsibility. This card advocates for recognizing each other’s unique qualities and creating a space where both feel valued and understood. By establishing a cooperative dynamic, you can build trust and stability, bringing harmony to the relationship. Practical steps, such as setting shared goals or openly discussing how you can support each other’s needs, can strengthen the bond.

Learning Outcome from the Relationship: Five of Cups

The Five of Cups as the learning outcome indicates that this relationship may bring lessons around processing loss, disappointment, and the need for acceptance. This card represents grief, but also the potential for healing and growth. Through this connection, you may learn how to face unfulfilled expectations or regrets with resilience. The Five of Cups reminds you that even in moments of sorrow, there’s always something left standing—perhaps something valuable that you hadn’t yet appreciated. This relationship is teaching you about the importance of acceptance and the ability to move forward despite setbacks. By allowing yourself to feel and process these emotions fully, you can emerge stronger, with a clearer sense of what you want in future relationships. Ultimately, the Five of Cups offers the opportunity to let go of the past, to see beyond what was lost, and to find gratitude for the lessons learned.

[remiivu]

Ghostly Companion- Chapter 1

Link on Ao3! Currently rated Teen but may go up to Mature/Explicit

Masterlist Next Chapter -->

A Mr. Crawling x Reader fic (that may expand into a series!)

This is the first time that I've written anything like this in the past 5 years, so give me some slack if it's bad or cringey lol (also the first fic on Tumblr!)

Set in the ending (and series of events) where you take him home! I've done a few playthroughs so some parts may not be fully accurate, but I'll do my best!

No warnings-- just some minor cursing here and there. 1.8k words!

Enjoy!

 Note: Words in italics are in the ghost language. The blocks represent words reader doesn't understand.

You…

Honestly, you weren’t quite sure what happened these past 24 hours. Half of your now fully-conscious brain had settled on this being some sort of twisted hallucination you experienced after inhaling the noxious spores from some weird mushroom during your bravery challenge. But, the other, half-insane half-sane side of your mind simply cannot deny the manifestation of your nightmares sitting right across from you, a sharp smile stretching from ear to ear and a mop of strangely neat black hair swallowing its figure.

It? He? That, too, was something you didn’t know. Hell, the thing never stood up, and the noises that creaked from its throat were far from human.

But… It was nice. It helped you. It followed you, shielded you, and the pure, radiant happiness it exuded when you proposed, in broken ghostly-language, for it to join you hardly came across as malicious or non-sentient. It had feelings, and while some parts were… wrong, surely, it was owed some sort of humanity, you reasoned.

And so, it became a he, and then a Mr. Crawling-- the highlight of your creativity, truly. You doubted he understood the significance of the slightly different noises coming out of your mouth as you called to him, but still, it was the least you could do.

“... not… go?” He asked, head tilted as he sat patiently on the ground, lanky grayed limbs bent awkwardly into some mix between a w-shape and a regular sitting position. You think he said something else as well, but honestly, you were exhausted, and you hadn’t really had much time to truly learn his language.

“...” You sighed again, looking at him, then your surroundings. You had popped out right where you had started– or somewhere near it, at least, as you recognized the spooky decorations nailed and wrapped around trees. You were back in the forest you had entered before being sucked into… something. At least the light rain had stopped, leaving damp soil and the smell of petrichor to fill your senses instead of the… yeah.

Well, besides, you had nothing on you. Right– it was all in your bag that, for some reason, wasn’t brought alongside the rest of you.

“Need…” you paused, hesitating. How did you say bag? Scrounging through all the corners of your mind left you with a blank, and you searched for the next best thing.

Which would be bucket. Fuck.

Mr. Crawling tilted his head the other way, mouth flattening slightly in what you presume to be confusion. “You… ∎∎∎” he uttered something that didn’t spark a single click of recognition in your brain. “∎∎∎… ∎∎∎. ∎∎∎∎∎∎. Help?” 

You gave one nod. “Yeah, help. Uhm… bucket… “ You made the attempt of drawing out what it looked like in the dirt while ignoring the small amount of embarrassment that rose in your chest at your horrific attempt to communicate.

You jabbed at the middle of the drawing of your rather simple bag. “Uh- blood.” You muttered, figuring it was the closest thing to whatever the actual word for red was.

Mr. Crawling frowned a bit, then chirped a “Me help you ∎∎∎ bucket! ∎∎∎ ∎∎∎∎?” With a much more pleasant smile. 

You nodded, “Yeah, thanks. Ok, so… I guess we’ll split up?”

Mr. Crawling stared blankly with that dopey smile and you sighed, standing up. You felt a little bad for making a… disabled ghost? Yeah, a disabled ghost do some of the work. Shoeless and possibly pant-less

Damn. You’ve stooped down low these past few hours.

_____________________________

Honestly, you were surprised at just how efficient a disabled ghost was when left in the dark, blind, and in an environment he’s never been in before. Just as you were about to give up and start heading back into civilization, you heard a gleeful, familiar bone-chilling giggle followed by “Me ∎∎∎ bucket blood!”

Your head shoots up, “You did?!” As you rushed off to the bushes where he had wandered off. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you spotted the familiar bag, grabbing it from Mr. Crawling’s hands. “Thank you,” you smiled, weary but grateful, as Mr. Crawling giggled once again.

“Happy! Happy!” He said, reaching out to pat your head again.

You found yourself letting out a small laugh as well at the unusually tender action, giving your bag a quick once-over to confirm everything was there. When you spotted your phone, you quickly tapped on the screen, letting out a quick breath of relief as it lights up only for it to immediately be followed by a small wince.

Over 50 missed calls and 100 messages… yikes. And with a glance at the time and date, you understood why. Turns out, your sense of time was rather accurate– it had been just over a day since your disappeared.

“Hurt? You hurt?” Mr. Crawling asked, leaning in close to do his ghost-equivalent of looking. Honestly, you can’t be bothered to question why, how, or even what he’s seeing when all you’ve noticed on his face was a deep red wound in place of his eyes. 

“No,” You shake your head. “Uhm. It’s, uhm, humans. Humans worry… no– me worry humans.” You explained the best you could, standing up again. Mr. Crawling looks up, confused. 

“You safe.” He says, crawling towards you rather slowly. “Humans ∎∎∎?” 

You shake your head. “Go together with me.” You say with a bit of force. The desire to get home and in bed overshadows much of anything else that could run through your mind.

Mr. Crawling, however, doesn’t seem to mind your curtness, breaking out into another small fit of uncanny giggles as he follows after you, letting out a small mantra of “Together together together together!”

With half fondness and half exasperation, you trudge on with a smile, feeling like this experience was more akin to a person walking their dog rather than a human leading a ghost to their home. Which… you choose to think about another day. You really, really don’t want to contemplate any more images of your death.

You were so tired.

But, after nearly half an hour of much slower-than typical walking, your patience was wearing thin.

As it turns out, disabled ghosts walk– crawl much slower on slippery, uneven terrain than their familiar concrete floors. You’ve had to slow significantly so that Mr. Crawling wouldn’t get too tangled up in roots and rocks, and a part of you worried for the safety of his bare legs, but every passing glance resulted in a tiny glimpse of smooth, unharmed skin. You assume he was taking extra care to ensure he doesn’t get hurt.

But, still, every passing hour drains your phone’s limited battery and therefore your limited ability to navigate through whatever area of the city you wind up in upon exiting the mountains. You really couldn’t afford to keep slowing down or to risk losing your understanding of where to walk by circling around roots and trees. They had passed most of the decorations by now, leaving only trees and the very faint noise of any rare passing cars.

Eventually, you kneel back down, waving at him to get his attention. “Mr. Crawling.” You hum, watching as he perked up.

“∎∎∎!” He chirped, getting to your position in a few seconds.

“Me…” You hesitate. “... Me you… up.” You said, staring at him to see whether or not he understood. You were sure that, without… a lot of things necessary for life, he would be light enough for you to carry. Sure, you weren’t the fittest of the bunch, but you were healthy and exercised. In fact, you’re sure that your physical health was the only reason you lasted that long in that death trap.

His head tilted, then he grinned. “... Me you ∎∎∎?”

You sighed, contemplating. That was a vaguely familiar word, and you could almost hear something else in your memories having said it.

But before you could actually responded, Mr. Crawling lunged up at you, bringing you down to the ground in one swift motion. You let out a scream, your throat raw and strained by now, but settled in once you realized where you were.

“Mr. Crawling, what are you–?” You let out a half-scream of shock as he began to scoot across the floor with his legs, holding you firmly in his lap, cold yet sturdy arms caging you in.

He giggled, “Me ∎∎∎! Me ∎∎∎ you!”

Your jaw dropped, and then the word clicks– carry! Well, carry or lift or hold– something along those lines. You remembered that decapitated head speaking it. The head that you had left behind in the hands of that… goat thing.

“Me carry you!” Mr. Crawling giggled, and honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that this was twice as slow as their previous pace (an actual snail’s pace) you might’ve just stayed here and squeezed a nap in.

“Wait, no– no!” You wiggled, trying to loosen his arms. You couldn’t– not through sheer force, as his arms felt like stone bricks, but he loosened his hold on his own, leaning in far too close and spewing out a cycle of: “Hurt? Hurt? Damaged? You sad?” 

You sighed, shaking your head. Well, at least now you know the word. “No, me carry you. Me carry you.” You said, trying to convey through hand motions that it would be faster.

Then… Mr. Crawling giggled. Laughed. Directly at your face. “You carry me? Me ∎∎∎, you ∎∎∎!” 

In your heart, you knew you were being laughed at, and you felt heat rushing to your ears as you sputtered in indignation. “What– listen, I can carry you! You’re not even alive, so you probably don’t have water or blood or any other thing in you that makes you as heavy as–”

“Cute!” Mr. Crawling cooed with another giggle, playing with your ears, his fingers gentle despite how coarse they felt. The coolness of them actually felt… nice against your burning ears.

You balked, “You–!”

Your breath was interrupted as cement arms wrapped around you again and his butt-scooting continued. 

“Hey, I– !”

“You ∎∎∎ rest!” He said happily, strong legs picking up the pace and pushing small mounds of dirt across the forest floor.

Well… that was actually amendable. Maybe you’d get to the city before sunrise at this pace.

“Rest rest!” He said, one arm reaching up to pat your head. “You ∎∎∎! You rest! You safe.”

You let out another sigh, though you hardly put any heart into it, leaning against him more as you felt the rhythmic stop and push of him quite literally dragging the both of us to safety.

A disabled ghost… helping a fully-capable human move.

You snort, letting your eyes fall shut.

What has your life become?

And that's all! Thank you so much for stopping by! If you're interested, I just wanted to add some notes for anybody paying a bit more attention to minor details in this fic.

Yes, the reader is exhausted and far too tired to ask why a ghost who "can't use his legs" is currently using them as a motor to propel them across the forest floor. Give them some slack! They nearly died about 3 times lmao. (And I have mentally planned out a timeframe where they realize this exact piece of info)

I am aiming for the reader to be completely G/N (for our rare male players) but I may slip up and call them she/her or accidentally follow the canon a bit too closely.

Honestly, while it is based in Japan, most of my understanding outside of some rare visits comes from anime. So, in my head, the local high school was hosting a bravery challenge up in the forest on the mountains and the reader was dragged along with their friends (reader is a working young adult, ~25 years old). In my world, the city they live in is maybe 40 minutes away from that specific area in the mountains. I'm contemplating making the reader American-Japanese (who resides in the US and visited Japan for a vacation to meet up with old friends, or something like that).

Yes, I know that "bucket" in the ghost language isn't correct (the correct word is "container" or something more vague like that) but I can't recall if the reader gets to go to the SOS room on this route where Mr. Crawler refers to the pencil case/make-up bag with that same word, so their only experience would be learning the word through buckets with Mr. Hood.

I may accidentally call Mr. Crawling "Mr. Crawler." I'm pretty sure I haven't done that in this fic, but this is simply a warning for the future lmao.

That's all! Thanks again!^^

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[shall-we-die]

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[A]ccident: Would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?

Without a doubt, Zayne would blame himself if you died in an accident. He'd be wracked with guilt and self-blame, unable to shake the feeling that he should have been able to prevent it. He'd replay the events over and over again in his mind, searching for any signs he missed or actions he could have taken to save you. He may even shut down emotionally, burying himself in work and shutting out the world as a way to cope with the overwhelming guilt and grief.

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[B]reak up: How would they break up with you?

When it comes to breaking up, Zayne would likely be very straightforward and practical about it. He wouldn't beat around the bush or try to sugarcoat things. He'd be very upfront about his decision, explaining his reasons and maintaining his cool demeanor throughout the conversation. Being a logical person, he'd probably lay out his thoughts and reasons for the breakup, keeping emotions out of the equation and focusing more on the practicality of the situation.

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[C]rying: How would they make you cry?

Zayne might unintentionally make you cry if he says something hurtful without realizing it, or if he fails to consider your feelings in a certain situation. He's not intentionally trying to hurt you, but his tendency to be blunt and logical coupled with his occasional insensitivity or lack of emotional understanding can lead to him saying or doing things that are insensitive or cold, which could lead to tears. He's not great at understanding the nuances of emotions, and sometimes he inadvertently says things that are hurtful without realizing it.

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[D]eath: How would they react to your death?

Zayne would be devastated by your death. He'd probably struggle to accept it, unable to shake the feeling that he failed to protect you or could have done something to prevent it. He'd internalize a lot of guilt and grief, blaming himself and struggling to come to terms with the loss. At first, he'd likely keep it all bottled up inside, trying to maintain a strong exterior, but eventually it would catch up to him. He'd become withdrawn and distant, struggling to cope with the emptiness left by your absence.

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[E]motion: What is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?

Zayne would try to hide his feelings of vulnerability and helplessness the most. He's someone who values his independence and strength, and would view vulnerability as a weakness. To hide these emotions, he'd try to appear stoic and unaffected on the outside, maintaining his usual cool and aloof demeanor even in difficult situations. He'd try to downplay any challenges or obstacles he's facing, and would likely withdraw or shut down emotionally, refusing to let others see him in a weakened state.

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[F]ight: Do you two ever fight? How big are the fights? What do you fight about? Etc.

Despite their compatibility, Zayne and you do sometimes get into fights. The fights can range from minor arguments to more intense conflicts, depending on the issue at hand. They tend to fight over things like differences in opinions, communication styles, or issues related to their relationship such as trust, loyalty, or time management. Zayne can be rigid and stubborn, and might not always listen to your perspective, which can lead to disagreements. However, they're able to work through their conflicts and usually make up after a period of reflection and compromise.

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[G]uilt: What is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?

Zayne would feel the most guilty about any situation where he has failed to live up to his own high standards, especially when it comes to his work and relationships. He's a person who strives for excellence, and he often holds himself to impossibly high standards. When he feels that he's fallen short, whether it's in his career or in his relationship with you, he tends to beat himself up internally over it. He's critical of himself and struggles to let go of his mistakes or failures, often carrying guilt long after the fact.

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[H]eartbreak: What would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?

Zayne's greatest pain in the relationship comes from feeling helpless or unable to fix the problems. He's a problem solver by nature and struggles when he can't find solutions. If you two were to break up, he'd internalize a lot of hurt and guilt, blaming himself for the failure of the relationship and feeling like he let you down. He'd probably be very reserved and closed off, burying himself in his work as a distraction and struggling privately with the pain of the break up.

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[I]njured: How would they react if you are badly injured?

If you are injured, Zayne's first priority would be your well-being and safety. He'd switch into his doctor mode, assessing the situation and determining the severity of your injury or condition. He'd keep his emotions in check and focus on providing you with the medical care you need. However, inside, he'd be deeply concerned and worried, likely feeling a sense of helplessness and guilt that he wasn't able to prevent your injury. He may also feel a bit angry at himself for not being able to protect you.

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[J]ealousy: What do they do if they are jealous?

Zayne isn't a naturally possessive or jealous person, but if he does feel jealous, he'd be pretty subtle about it. He'd likely try to hide it, keeping his usual cool demeanor and maintaining a level-headed approach. However, he might become a bit more protective or possessive, like if you're talking to another guy, he'd probably step in and steer the conversation away or make his presence known. If he feels really intense jealousy, he may also become a bit grumpy or short-tempered, but it would still be subtle.

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[K]ill: Would they kill for revenge?

Zayne is generally against violence and killing, as he's a doctor and values life. He'd much prefer to solve problems through reason and communication rather than resorting to violence. However, if he or someone he loves is in danger and there's no other way to protect them, he might be willing to take drastic measures, including using force or violence if necessary. He wouldn't kill someone out of revenge though, as that doesn't align with his values of being a doctor.

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[L]oss: What is their greatest loss?

Zayne's greatest loss when it comes to you would be the fear of losing you, whether through death or separation. Since he's a doctor, he's well aware of the fragility of life, and the thought of losing you would be terrifying for him. He'd likely try to protect you at all costs and worry constantly about your safety. If you were to ever be in danger or seriously ill, Zayne would probably go above and beyond to ensure your safety and well-being.

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[M]istake: What is the worst mistake they ever made with you?

Zayne's worst mistake with you would likely be not being attentive or considerate enough towards your needs or feelings on occasion. He can be aloof and focused on his work more than his relationship, and sometimes forgets that you have emotions and needs that need to be tended to as well. He may unknowingly neglect your needs, thinking you're perfectly fine, or brush off your feelings without realizing how important they are to you. This can lead to feelings of frustration and disappointment on your part, which would be the greatest mistake from his perspective.

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[N]ightmares: How often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?

Zayne experiences nightmares from time to time, usually when he's under a lot of stress or feeling overwhelmed. The nightmares are often related to past experiences or fears, such as failing to save a patient or losing a loved one. Zayne usually deals with his nightmares by trying to shake off the dream and distract himself with work or other activities. He doesn't typically talk about his nightmares with others, preferring to keep his worries to himself. If the nightmares persist, he may seek out a way to unwind or talk to you about them, but only when things get really bad.

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[O]utrage: How and why would they get mad at you?

Zayne isn't the type to get easily mad at you. However, a few things he might get mad at you for are, When you don't take your health seriously when he has repeatedly told you to. Or If you don't listen to his advice and do something that's harmful to your health. Maybe If you disregard his boundaries or disrespect him in some way. If you're acting recklessly and putting yourself in danger or taking unnecessary risks. And If you dismiss his feelings and concerns about something important to him.

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[P]ast: What has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?

The biggest thing that changed the way you two see each other in a negative way would be a significant argument that left both of you hurt and upset. Maybe it was about a fundamental difference in values or a major misunderstanding that escalated into a fight. The argument may have led to hurtful words or actions on both sides, and resulted in a period of distance and tension between you. Over time, the fight has left lingering doubts and insecurities in both of you, making it hard to trust each other completely as you once did.

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[Q]uality: Quality? what is their most dangerous/toxic?

Zayne's most dangerous and toxic quality is his tendency to bottle up his emotions and shut down when he's overwhelmed or faced with a difficult situation. He suppresses his feelings and tries to handle everything on his own, which leads to internalizing a lot of stress and potentially leads to emotional outbursts or breakdowns. He also has a tendency to blame himself for things that aren't his fault, which can lead to negative self talk and a toxic mindset.

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[R]ejection: How would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around?)

If you rejected his confession, Zayne would probably be taken aback and surprised, as he may have been certain that you reciprocated his feelings. He'd likely try to remain calm and composed, but inside he'd be hurt and confused, wondering why you rejected him despite the connection they share. He may also feel a sense of rejection and self-doubt, questioning if his feelings were one-sided. While he'd respect your decision, the rejection would probably make him more reserved and closed off afterwards.

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[S]cars: Battle or self-inflicted?

Zayne's scars are not self-inflicted. They are a result of his experiences as a doctor, where he had to deal with some tough situations and got minor injuries. Most of the scars are small and hidden, some of them are from when he was younger and got into fights or accidents. Zayne may be a bit embarrassed by his scars and doesn't like to talk about them much, but he views them as part of his past and a reminder of the obstacles he's overcome in life.

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[T]rust: Have they ever broken your trust?

Yes, there's been a time when Zayne broke your trust. He promised to be there for you when you needed him the most, but he got so caught up in work that he missed an important occasion or event that was important to you. This led you to question his reliability and feel like he wasn't living up to his word. In the aftermath of this, Zayne apologized sincerely and started making an effort to be more attentive and responsible. Since then, he's been more mindful of prioritizing you and keeping his commitments to you.

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[U]rge: How badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?

Zayne craves the sight of you when he's been separated from you for a while. He'll often find himself thinking about you and missing your presence. When he finally sees you again, his heart skips a beat and his usual stern demeanor melts away. He'll likely find any excuse to touch you, whether it's holding your hand, giving you a hug, or pulling you close to him. He may not explicitly say it, but his eyes and body language will tell you just how much he missed you.

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[V]icious: What do they do when they lash out on you?

When Zayne lashes out at you, he's usually caught up in his own emotions and isn't thinking clearly. He may raise his voice, say things he doesn't mean, or act uncharacteristically cold towards you. After he calms down, Zayne typically feels guilty for his outburst and regrets his behavior. He might try to apologize or make up for it by giving you extra attention or doing something nice for you afterwards.

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[W]eak: What makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?

Zayne feels weak when he feels like he's not in control of a situation, especially when it comes to you. He tries to avoid feeling weak by staying in control and making sure he's always prepared and in charge. He dislikes showing vulnerability, and will often put on a mask of indifference to hide any feelings of helplessness or weakness. He also relies on his rationality and logic as a shield against any hint of weakness, believing that keeping things objective and unfeeling helps him maintain a sense of strength.

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[X]-ray: What do they hate and show it most obviously?

Zayne has a strong disdain for people who are dishonest or deceptive in their actions and words. When he encounters someone who is being manipulative or insincere, it really gets on his nerves and brings out his stern and cold demeanor to its fullest. He tends to be very blunt and straightforward in his interactions, and holds a deep contempt for those who aren't genuine. If he senses someone trying to mislead or deceive him, he won't hesitate to call them out on it or distance himself from them.

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[Y]earn: What is one thing that they want but can't have?

Zayne wants to be able to give you a relaxing and carefree life, free from any hardships or struggles. However, he knows that it's not possible due to his demanding career and the inherent unpredictability of life. He wishes he could protect you from all the challenges and worries that come your way, but he struggles with the fact that he can't, which leaves him feeling helpless and frustrated. This desire to give you a perfect life is something he'll likely always want, but never be able to fully satisfy.

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[Z]ero: What do they do/say in your dying moments?

In the face of your dying moments, a wave of emotions would flood through Zayne. There'd be a mix of despair, sadness, and desperation. He'd probably hold your hand tightly, his usually stoic demeanor cracking as he battles to keep his composure. His words may come out in fragments, but he'd tell you how much he loves you and how difficult it would be for him to lose you. He'd try to reassure you, whispering that everything will be okay, even as tears well up in his eyes.