#it's refreshing to reminded that it doesn't matter. it really doesn't.

[gojosbf]

when they said

he said

ladies gentlemen and my non binary pals, once again I am here to remind you why yuji will always be the protagonist and our best boy.

the way it did not even take him 5 secs to recognise her. and he doesn't care. he's just like oh hi <3 I LOVE HIM

[love-toxin]

MR O’HARA HAS ME ACTING FERAL BOTH OF MY LIPS HAS BEEN DROOLING SINCE I WATCHED ATSV OPENING NIGHT… I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME

RIGHT??? LIKE--LIKE--

(cws: across the spiderverse spoilers, gn pronouns, smut, rough sex, mating press, size kink, biting/venom, belly bulges, mindbreak(?), breeding mention, a bit of forbidden love trope)

Like....imagine, if you will, becoming an assistant for the Spider-society after your dimension is destroyed. It's mostly because Miguel took pity on you since you're not a spider-person, you had nothing to do with the unravelling of your world, and/or you were meant to gain your spider-powers but an anomaly in your dimension prevented it. Since there's no place for you in another multiverse, he keeps you on his team both to give you asylum and to keep an eye on you just in case you prove to be an anomaly yourself....but it becomes pretty clear pretty early on that you're not really a threat. Not for violence, at least.

You're just a sweet thing that gets doted on by nearly everyone in the society--you're either a refreshing break from the endless spiderman variants running around or you remind the spiders of their Mary Janes, their Gwen Stacies, their Gayatri Singhs, and being a civilian to boot makes you the perfect candidate to have your things carried for you and be given web-slinging rides around the facility even though you're supposed to be the assistant here.

But even so, even though you're treated so lightly, Miguel really likes you and even--gasp--enjoys your company. It can be hard to tell with him, but the most perceptive of the spiders notice that Miguel keeps you in his good graces always. When he's stressed or in a bad mood, he collects himself before he speaks to you. He never snaps at you, and on the very rare times you get caught in his crosshairs, he apologizes quietly and gently and reiterates that whatever it was about, it wasn't your fault. He gives you so much wiggle room for error to the point that his companions sometimes complain outright that he's such a hardass, but he never berates you when you make a mistake, and without fail Miguel will come up with some reason for it; "That's because they don't screw up as often as you do" or "At least I can trust them to do their job", or he'll just tell whoever's bitching to leave you out of it and he'll dismiss you to discuss the matter privately.

Surprisingly, those incidents don't bother him nearly as much as when the inner circle starts getting closer to you. He feels this deep need to pull you away when Gwen offers to take you on a trip through the dimensions (although that's just plain dangerous), but it also bubbles up when Hobie hangs around and encourages you to join his band, and when Jess asks you questions about your life and is eager to hear about any potential romances you might be getting yourself into--there's a lot of single spider-people out there, and you're not tied to any dimension, so you've got plenty of options!

God, Miguel hates when Jess brings that up. You don't need to go anywhere, your place is here. You can stay here safely, which is something he can't promise in any of those other dimensions the spiders come from. But that's not the real reason, he realizes that when he feels that tingle at the sight of you holding Mayday and playing with her, having been given the task of impromptu babysitter for Peter when he has to rush off and do damage control somewhere.

It's you. He likes having you around, and it's not about letting you venture off into other dimensions, he just doesn't want you to leave him. That's why he loves it when you reply to those people, when you tell them "Oh, but I couldn't leave Mr. O'Hara! He'd lose his head without me." or "I really like this job, actually. I wanna keep working under Mr. Miguel." and especially "Miguel saved my life, I owe him all I can give. I could never leave him all alone." because it just reaffirms that desire for him to keep you as close to his side as possible. When he replays those videos of himself and his daughter, the pain is dulled for a while as he sees your eyes in hers, and envisions a future where you create a new family with him--one that he can properly protect this time.

It's that fantasy that emboldens him to lay hands on you, your body so puny and small in comparison to his massive frame, so fragile as he holds your hips in both hands and waits for you to tell him this isn't really what you want. He's waiting for it, anticipating it, even reminding you that you have the option when you look up at him shell-shocked. He promises that your answer won't affect your position here. It falls on deaf ears, however, because you desperately want to kiss him but you just don't think you can reach.

It's so adorable to see you try. Up on your tiptoes, clutching at his suit, straining to try and reach him where he's at--all it takes is an arm around your waist and he's got you off your feet and in the air, perfectly situated to press your pretty mouth to his own and awaken his instincts that have laid dormant all these long years. The stress of keeping each and every dimension following its intended canon has nearly broken him, it might have done so already if not for your unexpected appearance in his life. It's riled him up so much he doesn't think twice about taking you back to his place, nor gives him second thoughts when you help him peel that tight suit off and he tears through your clothes just as easily--maybe it really doesn't matter. His world is gone and so is yours, but you're both still here and you're begging him for another kiss, for more attention. How sweet could you possibly be? Pleading for something you'll always have and not realizing it's the least you deserve, perfect as you are?

Miguel just can't help himself anymore, he's too far gone and you’re too angelic for him to let down when you want him so badly. You don't seem to mind the rough treatment as he pushes you down either, no, you thrive on his aggressiveness and even encourage it to come out as he clambers over you. That pretty smile and those giggles as he shoves your thighs apart and spits, his venom sending electrifying tingles up and down your spine as he fingers the makeshift lube inside you. He's so bulky you can't even get your legs all the way around him when he lowers himself, forced to let your heels scrabble down his lower back as you struggle to find some kind of purchase on him--to just grab something and let it keep you steady as he slides in and rocks you into oblivion. The toxins loosen you up too, thank god, or else you'd be seriously struggling to take him in when he's practically twice your size. And he doesn't want to force it in, he just wants to ease you into the process before he allows himself to batter your poor body with thrusts that shake the whole bed--it's a little bit of payback for flaunting your pretty self around his office without ever telling him how you actually feel about him. Now you know exactly what you've been missing.

Drooling, hair sticking to your skin, sweat dripping down your chest, body gripping him like a vice yet endlessly slick....you're a total mess and he couldn't be more satisfied. You don't even try to keep yourself together, but that's all that he wants--he wants you to lose yourself in the way he makes you feel so you won't ever want to leave. The taboo is there; you're not from his dimension, he shouldn't be planning any kind of future with someone who doesn't belong in his world. But it makes it all more thrilling in the moment even if he can reason his way around it, it makes his every thrust gain power until he's breaking your willpower down enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, hips jumping weakly as you try to participate. You don't even know how good you make him feel without lifting a finger.

Gliding through you as if you couldn't be more willing to take him, his position is clear just from a glance down at your stomach--the bulge is obvious, and as sickening as it could be your whines as you brush your fingertips over it sing his praises without a coherent word. You're so wet and stupid and needy on his cock, clearly he should've done this a long time ago when you were so much worse at hiding your pining looks at him from across the room. If he knew it would culminate into this, he would've saved the assistant crap and turned you into his stress relief toy that very first day. If he had, you might've already had a family by now....knowing him, at least.

It's still just as sweet to lick your tears up now, though. You're already drunk on his cock, it doesn't make much more difference for him to sink his fangs into your throat and pump you full of more venom straight from the source, the shock sending you straight into orgasm and dragging it out for so long he fears you might just pass out from the pleasure. It's like he's juicing up a plump little fruit until it's so ripe it could burst. And as if your own ecstasy wasn't enough, you really lose it when Miguel has you pinned and flooding that sore, fluttering little hole with so much seed it burns. Jets of pearly-white cum squirting down your thighs, painting you like a canvas without him even pulling out, because you just can't take him at his peak and you know it. You just have to whine and squirm beneath him as he fills you up, his hot breath puffing over your cheeks as he keeps you barely still enough not to wiggle away. With a shift of your hips you nearly slip off right up to the tip, his cum sloshing about and making everything too slick--but a hand slides up your neck and grips the crown of your head, his biceps flexing as he slowly pushes you back down with vermillion eyes piercing through your heated flesh. Lower, deeper, until he's seated himself up in your guts again and holds you there to milk those last few shots out of him, keep him nice and warm with those precious walls uncontrollably spasming around him. Doesn't stop you from pulling his head down closer, though, and whispering your praises while begging in whimpers in equal measure, urging him not to stop now. You're not ready to let him go.

How convenient is that? Miguel won't ever let you go, and he's known that deep in his chest since the moment you arrived--it couldn't make him any more satisfied to know that you feel the exact same way.

[melancholymegumi]

💌 mailbox ask! “plss do a part 2 for yuta and his bunny girl.”

a/n ; I just saw a video about bunny tantrums and I thought of this somehow. this doesn't count as a part two, but i for the life of me can't think of anything for a part two , so I'm sorry anon but I hope this'll make it up for you ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

cw ;; reader throws a tantrum because yuuta wouldn't give them any sweets because she needs to cut back on sugar (reminder for myself) , reader is mean towards yuuta but it's okay he enjoys it , punishment mentions , i don't know anything else.

yuuta is a patient man. I'm sure everyone knows that already. he's gentle yet ruthless with curses and curse users and especially you. his little bunny hybrid.

he's the most patient man in this world at this point — you barely even remember when was the last time he gave you a punishment. he has been taking care of you ever since he adopted you from a hybrid shelter — or in your words , ever since he saved you from a grimy place.

but even patient people have their own limit.

everything was going so well. you and his friends went shopping , you weren't fussy or anything and the most important part is that you had fun. that's all that matters to him really. that night however it's like everything went upside down.

you've asked him for sugary treats after dinner , which he immediately refused to your demise. something about how you've been having too much sugar lately , and about how you would get the zoomies if you had any more. but in your defense , who cares? after all gojo does say that sweets help his brain refresh doesn't it?

and that's where it all went wrong. you ignored him for the night , you didn't even snuggle against him when you were watching a movie. not to mention the stomping and the fact that you threw a pillow at him when he asked you to pass him one. yuuta thought it'd go away by tomorrow , but unfortunately for him, it didn't.

it just got worse from there , actually. you started name-calling him. calling him stupid , stomping your foot whenever he talked and again with the ignoring. his string is getting stretched out. he was tired of this, but he also finds it amusing how much you're getting worked up by a few days without full blown sugar. that night in midst of brushing your hair — which you actually we're struggling with considering he brushes it for you about 90 percent of the time by the way, he leaned against the doorframe with an amused face his voice laced with honey and a hint of annoyance.

“y'need help with that bunny?” to which you responded with a scoff and calling him stupid before basically slamming the hairbrush on the bathroom counter before walking past him and bringing yourself downstairs. he was trying to keep himself composed , only following you down the stairs with a very amused smile on his face.

and then it happened. the string snapped.

his last straw was when you kept stomping your foot and demanding him for stuff that night , which he was happy to oblige , but not when he was already tired out from missions at what not— and especially not tonight.

he stared at you for a couple moments as you were sitting on the couch , blocking your view from whatever movie you were watching that night with a very obvious pout on your face after he told you that you needed to brush your teeth.

“are you done?” his voice was so... eerily cold. you could tell he was on his last nerve , but do you care? no. which is why you told him to move out of the way and started name-calling him again. he took a deep breath before very slowly , began speaking again.

“you have ten minutes. alright princess? ten minutes to get your little bunny self up and wait in our bedroom with your nightgown off. panties on. can you do that f'me? yeah?”

that was your genuine sign to pray to whoever could hear you because yuuta is not a fun person for a punishment.

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night. 

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed. 

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm. 

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept. 

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already. 

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes. 

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right. 

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?” 

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

-

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire. 

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—” 

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

-

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far. 

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items. 

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately. 

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse. 

-

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse. 

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen. 

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment. 

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea. 

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment. 

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

-

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness. 

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice. 

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him. 

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time. 

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.” 

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

 “If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him. 

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof. 

But, here he was, lusting after you. 

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made. 

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet. 

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play. 

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid. 

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake. 

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you. 

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves. 

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water. 

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly. 

Like you’d been caught. 

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite. 

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind. 

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect. 

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

-

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape. 

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration. 

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind. 

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut. 

Joel was safe, he was good. 

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it. 

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning. 

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

[reason-with-the-underdog]

body swap au

a bodyswap au for hkvthm would be really sexy bc imagine them both being reasonably competent enough at each other's highly specialised jobs to be able to "pass" for a few days

plus you KNOW they'd react so differently to the situation:

alhaitham in kaveh's body unanimously decides to call in sick on all of his ongoing commissions so he can get a solid week of sleep to make up for the crazy sleep debt he's feeling (and also to give kaveh's body a caffeine break bc the caffeine withdrawal jitters are NOT it yo)

kaveh in alhaitham's body spends one day in office being very helpful and easy to find (which scares the rest of the office btw) before being reminded by panah that the mahamata has a generous PTO policy

kaveh graciously accepts, partly out of "i need to figure out what's going on here and if alhaitham's ok" & also out of sheer novelty (bc small business owners like him dont get paid time off...)

which means that alhaitham and kaveh are both at home, officially on leave. so now what?

well, alhaitham in kaveh's body discovers that even though he's incredibly tired (again, the sleep debt), the insomnia very much won't let him. he's grumpily counting desert constructs in his mind with all the curtains pulled shut and soothing instrumental music playing on the record player and still. sleep does not come

meanwhile kaveh in alhaitham's body hears that alhaitham paused all his projects and is just like "nope i refuse" especially because he's actually feeling pretty great right now. so kaveh plans to keep working on those commissions anyways so he can meet the original deadlines

....except he discovers to his disgruntlement that alhaitham's body demands an afternoon nap right after lunch. it doesn't even matter that kaveh in alhaitham's body drank coffee, he's sleeping even if he doesn't want to

and worse, he wakes up refreshed... and ready for a run??!? wtf (kaveh has asthma, he has never woken up feeling like he wanted to run ever)

anyway one of kaveh's clients is super pushy and insists on a meeting with kaveh

so a very grumpy alhaitham in kaveh's body shows up & reads them the riot act (he knows the law, the client's property deed was improperly filed & the resulting delay is not kaveh's responsibility)

meanwhile kaveh's dealing with sensory overload bc wdym that textures are loud?? :(

somehow this all results in the same way they always seem to end up, alhaitham and kaveh napping together in the living room, piled up on the same divan despite having three perfectly good couches to use

and now they understand each other a bit more, but also they're both pretty grateful to be switching back into their normal bodies

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ii. do you really wanna know where i was april 29th?

— the one where you and him end up in the same room at the same time.

warnings: kind reminder that the pictures are just used for entertainment and don’t describe what the main character is supposed to look like also, there are some f1 inaccuracies but this is fiction so please ignore them thank you❤️ 2k words.

masterlist ✢ next

Liked by scuderiaferrari, vicpresley, tchalamet and others.

View comments

softyn it’s so good to see you having fun!!

myaid4nfeels so you’re already on the hunt huh

poppyseeds mother!! suddenly I love fast cars vroom vroom

greenleafss @/priscibby you were right she def has another man

frenziekenzie okay cool but I need you to talk about Aidan I’m a child of divorce.

Baku, Azerbaijan, April 29th.

HERE, here is where you end up when you let your agent say yes to every commercial offer you get no matter how random it is. And one day late, to top things off. Many people are angry at you, and you’re getting an earful as soon as the cameras shut down, but for now all you can do is laugh at terrible jokes, like the lady that you are, pretend to sip the frankly horrendous energy drink your manager keeps handing you, and appear very sorry about your previous absence.

You’re not even supposed to be here, you had no idea signing the stupid contract with Red Elix forced you to come to every sponsor event that they had. Having become the most recent sponsor for Ferrari’s F1 team, the men in charge couldn’t wait to show you off, their most important ambassador. Or their shiniest toy, it's all semantics.

"Come on, the shootout is about to start!" the old man whose name you have already forgotten holds your hand, leading you away from the refreshments table where you're looking something drinkable, preferably with alcohol, although it wouldn't help your jetlag.

You spent the eighteen hours of your flight on a F1 binge, because you weren't about to make a fool of yourself by showing up to a Grand Prix having zero idea of whatever was going on other than the cars going really, really fast. Some things are still mildly confusing, like the point distribution and why on Earth there is a sprint race and then a 'real' race the next day. But you're proud of your ability to retain information, you're an actress after all, there are a hundred scripts loaded into your brain.

"We root for the red cars, sweetheart," the man is still holding your hand and it's starting to feel gross, it's papery and sweaty at the same time. It's like he's talking to a child, ennunciating slowly and clearly, and then pointing at the screen where they take turns to focus on drivers sixteen and fifty-five.

Unsurprisingly, you'd figured as much, you're in the Ferrari Suite, everything is fucking red. A wave of annoyance runs through you, but you're used to men being patronizing, so you just smile and take the chance to slip your hand out of his grip, covering your face coyly. "I'll keep an eye on them!"

He turns around after laughing at your 'cuteness' or stupidity, really. Men love laughing at women, especially those whom they deem to be dumb.

"Could you please, please, get me some water? Not Elix, not anything else, water." you whisper to your manager just as he's made himself comfortable to watch the Sprint Shootout. He sends a resented look your way but still gets up from his chair to get you a closed bottle of water. Walter is being forced to be here as much as you are, at least he doesn’t have a contract that keeps him tied to Elix for every race.

The man from before is talking to you again and you try your best not to shut down and tune him out. He's explaining the rules of the Shootout but you couldn't care less about anything that leaves his mouth, also the cars are already coming out of their respective garage and there's so much noise it doesn't even matter how much he adjusts the volume of his voice.

Charles and Carlos, you have learned their names after an hour of having their enlarged picture stare at you from the main wall of the Suite. Charles ended up in first place and he's starting P1 later and tomorrow. Nice. Carlos is struggling a little, apparently, but seeing how fast these silly cars go and how tight the curves are, you can't blame him.

As soon as the Shootout is over, there is chaos again. You are dragged here, there and back, forced to smile for pictures with strangers who have the audacity to squeeze your waist and whisper in your ear, well, that's definitely worse than having to drink the Red Elix.

There is another rush as both drivers come back for a debrief and to get some rest before the Sprint, they're a blur surrounded by people in red uniforms blabbering instructions, and the shouts of 'good job!' and 'i love you!' that have followed them from the paddock.

"Mr. Schafer…” a boney boy with glasses leans down to talk to the guy that has branded you as his for the evening.

Schafer gives him a dirty look, annoyed by the interruption of his incredibly boring story about how he is a self-made multimillionaire. "What?" he barks.

"They- they said not now," the boy whispers shyly, no, not shyly, scared. "They said the drivers need to focus, but maybe later after the Sprint..."

A can of Elix flies in the air and you look in poorly disguised repugnance at the way it puddles close to your Air Force sneakers. The boy has taken a step back, now visibly shaking and your disgust is redirected to the man that just yelled at him and is throwing a temper tantrum.

"Not right now?!" he continues, face turning purple. "What if I had said 'not right now' when they asked me to give them MY money, huh?!"

"T-they said—"

"I don't care what they said! It's your job to get the pictures of them with the Elix! You're useless!"

Other people are staring at you, including most of the Ferrari Hospitality Team, and it makes you feel embarassed that they have most likely pegged you as similar to Schafer from how inseparable you are.

"Why don't we calm down a bit?" you soothe, forcing yourself to run your hand down his arm and back up. "You know how these pilots are, divas at best."

You don't know either of the guys who have disappeared inside the Suite, and by the looks the Hospitality Team gives you once again, you're certain you are completely mistaken. But you don't care, because the media boy is giving you a grateful look, and although he's still visibly fuming, the money guy has stopped yelling.

"You're right sweetheart," Schafer says patting your hand and taking it back to his arm. "Later, then." he warns the media boy, who takes that as his sign to run away.

────────────

Ferrari is full of hope and celebrations when the Sprint ends, you're once again paraded around but at least it's way more fun this time. You get to be near the podium and witness first-hand whatever rituals they play out. The fun is short-lived though, when you are warned by your manager that Mr. Schafer wants to take you out to dinner tonight, you don't have or want to know more, you know what he wants to achieve.

You walk back to the Suite with your manager, trying your best to avoid Mr. Schafer, who is frantically looking for you. He's missing his arm-candy badly.

Your jetlag has worsened, and you have a terrible headache, plus however much Elix you've drank despite taking the smallest sips possible, is making you nauseous.

You need five minutes to yourself. It's all you ask for. You haven't even been able to get a break in the fucking bathroom. Your manager is constantly yelling, already getting his own frustration out on you for whatever shit the Elix team gave him after you missed the first day of the Grand Prix.

In the midst of the chaos, you slip away. Eager to find a place to breathe and enjoy your own company. Or dissociate, again, semantics.

You find yourself in front of two doors with the numbers sixteen and fifty-five identifying whom they each belong to. They are empty, and you know it because both drivers are still in their debriefing/celebration/whatever else they could be doing that once again, won't allow them to pose for the Elix post-race photos.

You are at a crossroads, you are well aware this are private rooms for a reason, but you also know there isn't anywhere more deserted than these rooms.

Sixteen or fifty-five? Who is least likely to freak out if by any miscalculation on your part they found you here? Well, one of them ended the day on a happier note than the other, so...

You open the door marked with the number sixteen and sigh in relief. Five minutes and that's it. Then you can go back and play dumb to Schafer and beg for you manager to finally take you to the hotel.

There is a miscalculation on your part, and five minutes later, just as you're about to get up and leave (after stealing one bottle of water and a granola bar from Charles' stash) the door opens again, revealing the disheveled driver, holding a small plaque with a number two in one hand and a Pirelli cap in the other. He is far more handsome up close, there isn't a screen or photograph that does him justice, and you've seen plenty of both during the day.

"You are not supposed to be here," is the first thing he says, frowning.

"I know," you feign nonchalance as best you can, although you are embarrassed. "I was leaving."

Charles still wears that confused expression on his face, and it makes you glad it hasn't changed to anger. "What were you doing here?"

"Stealing your refreshments," which is not a lie, as you're still holding both things in one hand, not without struggle.

He's not freaking out, which comes across as strange. How many times has he come to his private room to find a random girl waiting for him?

"Should have taken the Elix," he mutters, throwing the Pirelli cap in the empty part of the couch you had been occupying minutes before. "That thing is disgusting."

You can't help but chortle a laugh. "Glad you think so,"

Awkward silence finally falls in the room, and you know that's the signal for you to exit. You're still invading his privacy and while you're glad he really didn't seem to mind, you don't know how much longer he will be so patient.

"Don't tell anyone you were here, okay?" he calls after you, "Someone might get fired."

You nod but he doesn't see you, already minding his own business in his little private bubble. You're jealous to leave him in a space all to himself.

────────────

It takes an hour to get both drivers and you in the same room for the pictures Elix is dying to get. This is far from ridiculous, but you have a contract and so does Ferrari, so you don't have much of a choice.

"Are you feeling better?" Charles asks, and you think he's talking to his team mate until he clears his throat right in front of you. He's holding the Red Elix, just like the one in his private room.

"Who? Me?" you ask stupidly, and then you take a sip of the Gold Elix in your hand, it's so much worse than the Red.

"Yes, you."

"I'm okay, why?" you're suddenly defensive, this is the second time this guy sees you and he's acting all weird.

"Good," he says and also drinks from his Elix, failing to hide his distaste with a purse from his lips. "This thing is really gross," he whispers, and this time his teammate does join the conversation only by laughing.

Both must be exhausted and yet they're trying to put on a good show for the sponsors.

"I'm sorry about intruding in your room," you lower your voice, squeezing your drink.

Charles shrugs lightly, and drinks again, this time without grimacing. "Sometimes I need five minutes too."

You smile, and it's the first sincere smile you've shown all day.

"My mum likes your movies," he says casually, as someone yells that you need 'just one more picture, please!'

You dread the part where he says something along the lines of "Supercut is the best!" but instead, after he stops the automatic motion of taking the red can to his lips, he adds: "I like Loneliness, it's so depressing."

And you throw your head back to laugh.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! i would appreciate to know your thoughts too! ♡❞

[komoboko]

Can you do bf Muichiro? Thanks💕

𝐛𝐟!𝐦𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞...

Muichiro Tokito x gn!reader ・modern!au

for my muichiro moots 🤞

Bf!Muichiro who really enjoys taking you cloud gazing. He likes laying down in the grass plain while pointing out different clouds telling you what he thinks something looks like while you do the same. Its something he used to do alone so having another person to indulge in the peace is refreshing.

Bf!Muichiro who knows about his bad memory and doesn't want to forget any important days around you, so he starts writing in a journal. He'll write about an important surrounding you like your birthday or your anniversary and maybe even hobbies or things you like for future gift ideas.

Bf!Muichiro who really likes hearing your voice as it soothing to him. He'll sit and listen to you rant about anything, he always trys his best not to space out whenever you rant to him. He wants to really hear what you have to say but your voice is like a melody that soothes his nerves automatically.

Bf!Muichiro who's hand are unusually cold for no particular reason. When you wrap your hands around his a shiver can creep up your spine. Sometimes he doesn't even realize how cold his hands are in the first place, he just thinks your hands are really warm.

Bf!Muichiro who has a terrible sleep schedule. He’ll be up in the late night hours training or doing something to distract his mind except falling asleep. You’ll have to drag him into bed for him to get some proper rest some days, but he appreciates you keeping him in check.

Bf!Muichiro who wants you to walk him everywhere. Whenever he has to go, he wants you to at-least walk him halfway to his location. He feels like it’s another way to spend more time with you. It’s peaceful and relaxing to just go on a stroll with you by his side

Bf!Muichiro despite his horrible sleep schedule lives to lay on you. If the two of you are sitting side by side it’s a good chance he’s going to rest his head on your shoulder. No matter how important the circumstances is, he’ll still find a way to rest his head on your shoulder.

Bf!Muichiro who loves listening to music with you around. He enjoys sharing your music taste and sharing his as well. You guys could either be doing something together like games or chores, or doing something seperate like homework for example. Just being in each others presence is enough for him.

Bf!Muichiro who in a more canon setting loves to train with you. He loves sparing and testing each other skill sets in different fields. He admires your strengths and talents and while sometimes he may he wants to help you with something your struggling with. He also wants to learn from you at the same time.

Bf!Muichiro who always comes straight to you whenever he gets back from a mission. No matter how short or how long the mission may be he always ends up craving your presence and your touch. he'll slink his arms around you while hesitating before whispering how much he missed you

Bf!Muichiro who you're there for when he regains his memories, a wave of emotions rushing over him realizing what happened in his past. he faces you and realized why you reminded him of a home he didn't remember before. You reminded him of his brother brining back his memories before he realized it himself.

Bf!Muichiro who may forget things but he's still remembers how much he loves you.

[angelismmm]

random relationship hcs i think theyd do, starring the honkai star rail characters!

himeko makes tea for you everytime she knows your trailblazing mission is about to end, she knows the exact way you like all your drinks. especially tea, but if that isn't to your liking, coffee, and other refreshers.

himeko especially loves compliments and praise, words of affirmation for sure is her love language, but her favorite love language to give is probably quality time!!

very attentive gf, like it may not seem like it but, she'll always be there with whatever you need!

blade makes sure you're always in top shape, of course, he doesn't ever make it too obvious, but when he has to leave, he's the type to leave little notes everywhere, "make sure to eat, my dove" on top of your bento that he made, or "don't forget to take me out :0" on the trashcan.

he doesn't always have time, but when he does, he makes sure to let you know he loves you with physical touch

make sure he's loved with a bit of quality time, along with a few words of encouragement!

jing yuan loves to just shower you in luxury, whatever you have your eye on when strolling in the plaza, he'll buy it. but he won't just win you over with just gifts, no no, he'll make sure to treat you like royalty.

constant praise, he loves to praise you so much, like mo matter what you do that's somewhat positive he's already got million of petnames to call you.

another attentive bby, makes sure you'll always remember it too. he promised you when you both got together, that nothing would ever happen to you, as long as you were with him <3

bronya is such a sweetheart! very mindful of you, always makes sure you're okay, and always finds time for you, even with her busy schedule. constantly reminding you that she's always there when you need her!

the type to hug you from behind while you cook her favorite meals <3

just adores you. always zones out while you argue that she's doing too much, and should take a break every now and then, but she just gets too lost in your eyes to really hear what you just said

"are you even listening, hun?" you ask, having to pinch her cheek to finally get her to snap back to reality. "huh- oh i'm so sorry love- care to ah.. repeat that?"

[onskepa]

Hello, could i get a neteyam x human fem reader one? Neteyam and reader were together for a short amount of time and they didn't have time to cuddle or stay together. One day Neteyam comes at the lab to meet with reader and forgets how small she really is. She's a rly short girl, maybe 4'11 (148 cm) so she smaller than all the humans from the lab. He takes advantage of it and corners her to the wall knwoing she can't escape or manhandles her like a doll. OML I WANT A NETEYAM IN MY LIFE SO BAD

Sorry if this was already asked but i don't remember if i requested this. Like ik i requested this but don't remember who i requested. Thank you

Hellooooooooo~!! You're the first to ask for a short reader! Which is refreshing to see XD Anyways! Hope you enjoyed this one~!!

A little tug here, a little pull there

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hi'i

The humans are very different from each other. Some are tall, others are shorter, some have facial hair, others have short hair, different skin tomes, different accents, etc.

How humans look like has always peaked the sully children's interest. Norm is a funny looking human, tall, lanky, scrawny, and very smart.

But there is one human that never fails to catch interest of neteyam. That is Hi'i. Neteyam and hi'i have known each other for almost their entire lives. Know each others secrets, habits, hobbies, likes, dislikes, evertthing.

But if there is anything that always gets neteyam by surprise, is just how small hi'i is.

Comparing all the humans height together. hi'i is the last in line, as being the shortest of them all. And neteyam likes it. Its not secret to everyone that neteyam likes to tease hi'i about her height.

It doesnt help since all na'vi are very tall, so when hi'i is next to tuk. Hi'i is very baby. So neteyam cant help it! He enjoys carrying her around , can easily pick her up as she weight less than a leaf.

So when they began to officially date, oh Eywa did the teasing turn up 10X more.

So every time neteyam goes to the lab to see his little lover, he really means little lover. Standing at 4'10 ft tall. So small. So little. So cute.

As the son of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik, he has many responsibilities to do and a face to uphold. So unfortunately he doesn't get to see his little lover as much as he liked. But if there is one benefit to it all. It is that he will be NOT be constantly surprised how small his little lover is. He forgets most of the time but enjoys being reminded.

Like right now. Standing before him was his cute, small, little lover. "I see you came with big anticipation" hi'i smiles as she tells him. He nods in agreement, "of course, whenever I have the chance, I will always come see you".

Both sat in hi'i bedroom floor, just spending some quality time by listening to music and talking about each others days. But one thing that is consistent, is neteyam having the need to touch hi'i everywhere.

"neteyam, I think you have my body mapped out by now" hi'i giggled as neteyam's hands roam on her legs. Gently kissing her on the cheek, neteyam replies "ma'yawntutsyip, even if I know every inch of your body, my hands will never be away from you. You are just too cute to not handle".

Every praise, every comment neteyam says, hi'i cant help but be a blushing mess. It will never get old no matter how many times he says it.

"still, at some point you will have to stop" hi'i says, that only made neteyam want to explore more. From her legs to her arms, neteyam buries his face at the crook of hi'i neck. She gently placed her hand on his cheek.

"I don't wanna..." hi'i giggles at his childish act. Was a cute sight to see him pout and be clingy. Not everyday he can act like his age or more childlike.

"neteyam, give me a moment I need to get something from another room" hi'i says as she tries to wiggle out of neteyam's grasp. "no, I want you to stay like this. Whatever it is, you can get it later".

Hi'i slightly groans. "No because then I will forget about it, I will be back, it will only take two minutes I promise". Finally out of his grasp, she makes her way to the door only for neteyam's shadow loom over her.

"its just two minutes, not very-EEP!" hi'i almost fell down when neteyam cornered her. Placing his two long arms beside her body as means to refrain her from escaping. His golden eyes narrowing down at her, smirking a bit, giving a glimpse to his sharp fangs.

Seeing his fangs always make hi'i go weak on the knees. One of her many weaknesses.

"If I said no, then it is no. Now come here, let me hold you" effortlessly, as though he is holding a kitten. Neteyam picks up hi'i in his arms and sits back down with her being cuddled. Hi'i doesn't say anything since she is too busy blushing red and her mind is a puddle.

And that is it for this one! Hope you liked this one! Until next time! see ya!

hi'i = small

yawntutsyip = little beloved

[maul-of-shame]

I think a lot of people are forgetting that Elrond and Galadriel didn't read LOTR and aren't aware they're going to be in laws. They don't have the 4th wall powers that we, the audience do. As far as either of them are concerned, Cborn is dead and given that Galadriel placed a higher priority on hunting Sauron than returning to him (assuming she believes that he's in Valinor), Elrond is takes the role Cborn would have had. I hope we see more Elrond and Galadriel moments in season 3 😊

They've both been through the same shit, they GET each other, and there's no 'expectation' attached to their relationship, and that is liberating when it comes to healing each other's trauma.

Absolutely, this point is spot-on!

Elrond and Galadriel's connection exists on an entirely unique plane where no one, especially not us as the audience, can dictate how their bond should look or evolve.

These two are free from the expectations or constraints of what’s “supposed” to happen based on outside knowledge. They certainly don’t see their future relationship as in-laws as a given, so their relationship is genuinely theirs to explore.

Their chemistry feels so deep and genuine precisely because it isn’t bound by any traditional family role or societal expectation.

Both Elrond and Galadriel have lived through millennia of war, loss, and hard choices, and they’ve developed a bond built on shared experiences, genuine understanding, and respect. Elrond gets Galadriel’s drive, her sacrifices, and the toll they take, while Galadriel recognizes his wisdom, patience, and loyalty. It’s rare to see characters who don’t need to explain their trauma because the other person just knows—they’ve been through the same fires.

And what makes this relationship even more intriguing is the lack of obligation or label tied to it.

There’s a liberating effect here: both of them are healing and supporting each other in ways that go beyond friendship or family ties. When they come together, it’s like two souls unburdened by destiny but bound by choice. Each moment between them is open to interpretation and possibility, and that freedom feels refreshing and real.

For Elrond, his connection with Galadriel feels like the home he never really had in the ways that matter most. Through his life, he's often been in roles of service and loyalty—to his family, to Gil-galad, to his people—but with Galadriel, he doesn’t need to be the wise, steady counselor or the responsible guardian. He can let his own vulnerabilities show, unafraid of being judged or misunderstood. In Galadriel, he sees a person who recognizes his struggles and his sacrifices without him having to speak a word, and who knows the gravity of loss in the way only someone who’s carried that burden for centuries can.

And for Galadriel, Elrond is a refuge she never expected but always needed. As much as she’s a warrior, a leader, and a force of nature, she’s also a person with deep wounds. With Elrond, she’s able to lay down her armor, put down her sword and shield, trusting him with the side of herself that’s tired, uncertain, and still healing. There’s a comfort in being with someone who doesn't require her to be constantly unbreakable. Instead of being another soldier in her battle, Elrond stands beside her as a partner, a friend, and a kindred soul.

They share this understanding, a bond that’s impossible to reduce to labels or roles. Each look, every moment between them, is layered with the kind of depth that goes beyond words—They're two people who simply get each other. Their relationship isn’t defined by duty or shaped by societal roles; it’s something they’ve chosen to build together. And perhaps that’s what makes it so liberating: their connection is entirely theirs, shaped only by the mutual respect, trust, love, and affection they’ve cultivated over time.

In a world where they both carry the heavy weight of their respective roles, this bond is like a breath of fresh air, a reminder that they don’t have to be alone in their struggles.

They’re not defined by destiny or forced together by obligation; they’re here because they choose each other.

Over and over again.

It’s a love and connection that doesn’t need words to define it or titles to legitimize it. It’s simply there, in every glance, every shared silence, and every act of unwavering support. And in a life full of responsibilities and ancient sorrows, that freedom is the truest form of peace.

[redrandomposts]

alien stage high school(+twist) au!! ivantill

summary: there's an old ring in an antique shop, and the perfect gift for someone you like. when ivan gives it to till, he finds that he can wish for something relating to till - as long as he pays a price.

=====

it's an ordinary day. that is, ivan was going to school, ready to bother till again. he gets up early every morning, sends a text (or seven) to wake till up, then heads on his way to class.

he takes a slightly different route today. it's been seven years since till and he first hung out outside of school, and he needs to find a gift for the occasion. he's sure that till doesn't remember, but ivan does, and that has to count for something.

in the window of an antique store, he spots it. though weathered, a beautiful ring with a gemstone that reminds ivan of till's eyes sits there, waiting. he buys it without a second thought, fiddling it in his hand as he planned how to go about gifting it. it's for the best that it was anonymous. so, wrapping it in discreet packaging, he slipped it into his locker and waited for till in the classroom as he always does.

fifteen minutes later, just half a second before the bell rang, till came crashing in and claiming his spot next to ivan. in the corner of his eye, ivan watched as till fiddled with the ring. satisfied, he opened his textbook and got ready to write notes (which, of course, was for till. color-coded, neatly organized, and three or more syllable words having the definition beside it).

after that, he didnt have anymore thoughts about the ring. it was not the first gift he gave to till, and not the most expensive one either. he'd feel a slight satisfaction when he saw it on till, but other than that—nothing.

well, that was how it went until till was involved in a car crash.

ir was an otherwise ordinary day. till was most probably going to the music store for new strings or sheets, and as much as ivan would like to, he wasn't by till's side 24/7. he only heard about it when the hospital contacted him as an emergency contact (something he had done without till's knowledge) that he found out.

when he arrived, till was in a coma. he was the most peaceful ivan had seen him in a long while, and not even dreams brought a sign of life to him.

ivan pulled some strings to get till a private, vip room, make sure till's "guardian" wasn't contacted, get them both sick leave from school, and settled in the hospital for rhe foreseeable future.

till's father was out of town most of the time, only coming for urgent matters. ivan decided that he didnt need to be there.

soon, ivan came by to the school once a week to turn in work and explain to the principal that till was not waking up anytime soon.

a month passed. ivan... ivan was growing desperate. by till's bedside, he had practically made a home for himself; his laptop, notebooks, novels... if he were an artist, he'd draw till again and again until he went insane.

"till," he said. there was no response. "god...till, why won't you wake up? open your eyes, or twitch a finger. till, till... i wish you were never in that accident."

ivan fell asleep again that night by till's bedside.

when he woke up, though, it was in his own bed. he felt oddly refreshed, as though the past month were a dream. looking at the calendar, his mouth dried.

it was the day till had gotten into the crash.

was it really all a dream? ivan grasped at his phone. it was six pm, an hour after till had gotten into the accident. before he could do anything, the door opened.

"ivan, there you are. i thought you invited me over to do the project, not sleep." till stood there, alive and well. and, well, ivan decided to put the rest in the back of his mind.

he went out to the dining room, where till had set up the project. notebooks and papers were already scattered across the table, though it was obvious till hadn't worked on any of it yet.

ivan looked at till. he couldnt forget how till had lied, unmoving, on that hospital bed.

"i'll make us food," ivan decided, heading to the kitchen.

ivan had learned how to cook long ago, if only to feed till. till, for no apparent reason, had hated the food his nanny used to make, so ivan took it upon himself to learn. it took several years to perfect the art of cooking for till.

ivan set down the finished dishes in hastily cleared spots and sat next to till, eating his own share. as till wolfed down his food, ivan stared blankly at his.

was his tongue broken? why couldn't he taste it?

===

a week later, in chemistry lab, till had gotten a little too handsy. ivan sat next to him on the way to the hospital, and thus he witnessed till's absolute devestation when he learned that his hands wouldn't be able to heal the way it had before.

till had painstakingly learned the guitar, how to draw, and it would all be ruined because his hands were burned.

ivan frowned, looking down at till's bandaged hands. unbidden, he recalled the car accident, and quietly, he whispered; "i wish till's hands will heaal to a state better than before."

the next week, it was as if a medical miracle had graced till. his hands returned to it's condition, if not better. ivan looked at till's hands, unable to smell anything. it was fine, though; he'd give anything to till.

===

the next to go was his right leg. it wasn't anything that bad; ivan's newfound loss of taste and smell led him to seek food that felt nice eating. they both went to a restaurant together, where a robbery had happened whilst they were there. till was shot in the leg; naturally, ivan wished to go back so that he could take the shot instead.

unfortunately, it hit some nerve, or it was the wish's penalty. ivan was unable to use his leg again.

it was easy enough to wrap it up in a cast and walk in crutches, though.

[haziwritesstuff]

My little rose, part 3

"You are meant to be the love of my next life."

Pairing | Aemond and Aegon x reader Wordcount | 4.2k Warnings | Medieval misogyny, Aegon isn't the nicest Previous chapters | Part 1, part 2

You make your way to Dragonstone, landing on the stone steps of the castle. Your family isn't there yet. It's quiet as you approach alone. You feel like you're walking into an empty castle, with nothing but your own footsteps echoing in the vast halls. The air is still and you feel like you're walking through a desert of stone and silence. You find it oddly peaceful and tranquil in a way, despite the solitude. The change in environment was refreshing and cleansing, after the tense atmosphere that you've just exited. You feel like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, a sense of calm and contentment wash over you as you look around at the vast halls and empty rooms.

You find yourself wandering through the gardens, your attention being drawn to the roses as the vivid colors and sweet smells fill the air. You feel your heart skip a beat as you take in the sight of the lush foliage and vibrant petals, and you can't help but feel a jolt of nostalgia. These were the roses that you've always loved, the ones that used to bring you joy and peace when you were a child. Bittersweetness washes over you as you remember those years growing up in solitude, with only Silverwing and the roses for company. You feel like the roses were like your faithful companions, always there to bring you comfort and joy during those times when you felt lonely and isolated. The  roses remind you of those comforting moments of companionship and the bittersweetness you feel is a reflection of the mixture of feelings that those times brought to you. You feel a bit of anger and resentment towards your father for keeping you hidden away from the world for years. You feel like he robbed you of a proper childhood, leaving you alone and isolated with no real friends in your life, he deprived you of so much, he was selfish and callous in his treatment of you. Although you made peace with it, you haven't forgotten it either. You've learned to accept and come to terms with your past, but you haven't let go of the bitterness and resentment that you feel towards Daemon for what he did to you. You've learnt to live with this injustice, but the anger and hurt still remains deep inside your heart.

You've been so deep in thought that you haven't realized someone else has joined you in the gardens. You're startled by Rhaena's sudden appearance and you feel a surge of relief as you realize it was her. "Where have you been? We almost started a search party!” "I'm sorry, I was just..." you stop short, realizing that you don't have an explanation for your absence. You feel like Rhaena's sudden appearance has caught you by surprise and you feel a bit embarrassed to explain why you were away. Rhaena’s staring at you and she’s not willing to let this matter go. There is still more to be said, but there is a certain level of awkwardness and tension and between you two right now. You didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of it than it already has been, so you keep your answer brief and simple. "I just flew alone, I wanted some time to be alone with my thoughts..." Rhaena nods her head, seeming to accept your explanation and she doesn't press the issue any further. “So what did you think of King’s Landing? And what did you think of your other family members?” "Well... it was certainly an experience..." you respond nervously, not sure exactly how to answer the question.

“Mmh. Did you manage to fix your issues with Aegon?” You feel a wave of awkwardness wash over you as Rhaena brings up the topic of Aegon. You're not sure what to say, or how you would even begin to explain the situation between the two of you. “Sort of.” You whispered, feeling like you haven't really fully resolved your issues with Aegon. The two of you still have some things to work out, but the tension is not as bad as it was before. Perhaps kissing him wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Rhaena's observant and perceptive, noticing that you're holding something back when you give your answer. You're not sure if you should give more details to her, you wanted to. You wanted to scream that you’ve kissed Aegon, that you hugged Aemond. That you were utterly confused. This was your first ‘experience’ with the other sex and you weren’t sure what to do now. You wanted to tell her everything that’s going on inside your head, but you decided against it.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's been a couple of weeks since you had your experiences with Aegon and Aemond in King's Landing. A lot has happened since then, and things have shifted and changed in your life. Viserys is dead and they have crowned Aegon as King, stealing Rhaenyra’s throne.

"You're going to King's Landing and you're going to give Aegon this.” You are caught off guard by the sudden declaration of your father. You're not sure what he's referring to, but you feel your heart beating faster at the prospect of meeting King Aegon and giving him something. You struggle to contain your anxiety as you look at your father, wondering what he has in mind for you. You're being thrown into a dangerous situation, and you're not sure if you can handle it. There are so many ways this situation could go wrong, you're being pulled into a situation that is bigger than you are ready for. “I don’t think I’m ready… For th-“ his eyes narrow and his voice becomes more demanding. "You must go. It is your duty as my daughter." He stares at you intensely, his eyes sharp and piercing. He's not giving you a choice, you must do his bidding. Daemon's eyes narrow even more as he glares at you. "I am not giving you a choice," he says harshly, "You will go to King's Landing and you will give Aegon this." He leans forward and holds up a small black pouch. "This is the message that I want you to deliver to him. Do you understand?" The intensity of Daemon's gaze leaves you feeling scared and intimidated, as if he's determined to not let you refuse or refuse his demands. You realize that you have no choice but to go, and are left feeling like a pawn in this game of power and politics. “Yes, I understand." you say softly, having no choice but to comply with his orders, since he is your father and you have been raised to obey him. Daemon doesn't respond. Instead, he hands you the small black pouch and begins to walk away, his walk slow and measured.

Daemon's words leave you feeling scared and uncertain about your upcoming trip to King's Landing, where you are expected to deliver a message to the new king. You don't know what the message contains, and you feel a sense of anxiety and unease about the situation, as well as a sense of trepidation about the journey ahead.

It turns out you weren't the only messenger. You learn later that same night that Rhaenys, Jace, and Luke were also sent off with messages of their own. Thinking about the message you're carrying, you can't help but wonder what it could be. It's a heavy burden, with your life potentially hanging in the balance. Every step you take on the road to King's Landing is a step closer to danger and potential confrontation with the new ‘king’. The gravity of the situation suddenly sinks in, and you feel like you're walking into the unknown. Aegon wouldn’t hurt you, would he?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's a long journey to King's Landing, but after countless hours of flight, you finally make it to the city. You land in one of the city's landing spots, feeling both relieved and exhausted as you finally made it. That sense of relief and exhaustion is quickly replaced with a sense of anxiety and uncertainty as you realize that you still have the task left: to deliver the message to the new King, Aegon II.

You make your way to the castle in King's Landing, walking up to the gates. There are guards stationed on both sides of the gate, who keep watch over the castle grounds. You feel anxious and fearful as you approach them, they keep an watchful eye on you as you draw closer. Eventually you find your way to the throne room of the castle. Aegon is sitting in his throne, his piercing eyes looking down at you. He is flanked by a handful of guards and advisors, forming a circle around him. As you enter the room, the quiet conversations and whispers stop instantly, and all attention is focused on you. His gaze is like a blazing flame, his look burning into you as he waits for you to speak. The guards and advisors stand close by, as if they are ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Everyone in the room is watching you intently, and you feel the pressure of everyone's eyes bearing down on you.

“I brought you a message from Queen Rhaenyra.” Your voice sounds small and strained as you speak, the weight of so many eyes upon you is overwhelming. The atmosphere in the room is thick with anticipation. After a pause, Aegon speaks, his voice calm and measured. "And what is the message?" "The message is personal and private, and it is to be delivered only to you and no one else." Aegon’s eyes narrow and his expression becomes more intense, as if deep in thought. He's silent for a moment, before finally speaking. "I see. If the message is personal and private, then why are you delivering it instead of Queen Rhaenyra herself?" The tension in the air increases as he speaks, his tone is stern and his face is fixed in a serious expression. He's awaiting a good reason for him to accept this message as legitimate and not a trick or ruse. "There must have been some reason for you being sent here, rather than Queen Rhaenyra coming herself," he says, "Is there a reason why she wouldn't have come here herself? If this message was so personal and private, why didn't she come herself to deliver it?" “I’m not sure.” Aegon raises an eyebrow, his expression becoming even more skeptical. "You're not sure?" He asks in a skeptical tone, "That's a rather unsatisfactory answer, don't you think?" After a few moments, you finally speak again. “My father sent me as the messenger.” “And why would he have done that, I wonder?!”

Aegon stares at you for a few more moments, with a stern and intense expression, before finally speaking again. “Well, I suppose we shall just have to read the message for ourselves, and see what Rhaenyra has to say.” He finally reaches for the small black pouch in your hands, and begins opening it. He removes the message inside and examines it, reading what is written on it. After a few moments, he looks back up at you. "That cunning bitch," he mutters under his breath. His fury seems to be reaching a boiling point, as he speaks again. "Everyone out!” As the room falls silent, you look at Aegon, who is now standing in front of you, still clutching the message in his hands. His face is contorted with fury, and his expression is like the face of a raging bull, ready to charge at a moment's notice.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he speaks again. "How dare she send you here with a message like this!" He shouts, his voice full of rage and anger. "She thinks she can tell me what to do? Who the fuck does she think she is!?" He stares at you for a few moments, his eyes narrowed and his face full of rage. "And does she think I'm just gonna let you walk away after this?!" "Pardon me?" Your face began to grow darker. "I will not let this pass. I will not let her disrespect me in such a manner. And I'm not going to just let you walk away either. I will not let you go. You're going to be my prize of war, and you'll stay here with me, where I can take my time with you." The threat of violence is now very evident in the king's tone. He continues to stare at you, his expression growing darker and more intense.

This was probably a big mistake. You can feel the weight of his glare digging deep into your skin, and you feel like he's considering what he's going to do to you even more seriously now. After a few moments of silence, Aegon takes a deep breath and starts to speak again. "You're going to stay here with me, and I'm going to take my time with you. Your queen might think that she's being clever and making a request, but I'll show her just how foolish she is." "The fuck I am! You can't keep me captive!" Aegon takes a deep breath and nods his head slowly. "Oh, can't I?" He responds calmly and politely, but his tone is one of pure menace. “I can keep you here for as long as I like, and there's nothing you can do about it.” His face grows even darker, and he slowly steps towards you. He moves in closer and closer, getting right into your personal space. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your neck, and it's an unbearably intense feeling. His face just a few inches away from your ear. You feel his breath tickling your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is like a whisper, but it's a whisper of pure threat and power. "You're mine now." His breath tickles your skin, you feel like you can't move, like your body has frozen up and you can't even scream.

Aegon’s breath continues to tickle your skin as he pulls you close to him, his lips just brushing against your skin. You feel powerless to move, as if your body has been frozen in place by the fear he is instilling in you. "Worry not sweetling, we'll have a good time." He whispers into your ear, his voice is like a snake slithering its way into your head. "N-no..." His breath continues to whisper into your ear, and his voice is full of a predatory kind of sensuality. "Oh, yes.." He replies slowly, dragging his next words out for a long time. "You are mine, there’s no running from me now. I’ll take good care of you..." You try to break free from the his grip, but it's hard to get away from him. He holds you close to himself and his hold on you is tight. He seems to be enjoying himself far too much at the prospect of taking you for his own. Your body is filled with fear and trepidation, but you also feel a strange sense of excitement and arousal. Your body is responding to his touch in a way that is both terrifying and pleasurable at the same time. Aegon’s hands are caressing your skin softly as he pulls you closer to him, holding you even tighter and not letting you go anywhere. You let out a whimper as the caress of his touch sends a tingling sensation down your spine. You're being consumed in a very intimate way, your body being overwhelmed by his presence and you feel yourself melting in his grasp. Your attention was completely focused on Aegon that you didn't notice Aemond entering the room.

Aemond sees the two of you, and you can tell from the look in his eye that he is absolutely furious. He walks up close to you, and you feel the heat of his anger radiating off of his presence like a fire. Aegon finally notices Aemond's presence and looks over at him with a dark expression, his mouth curled up into a sneer. His grip on you becomes even tighter, and you can feel the heat coming off his body like a furnace as he stares at Aemond. He seems very protective of you, and he is not going to let anyone interfere with his plans. Aemond's eye was burning with fury, staring down at Aegon, his voice is a low and menacing growl. "What do you think you're doing with her?!" Aegon looks up at Aemond with a dark and menacing expression, he continues to hold you close to himself. "I'm taking her for my own." He replies in a cold voice. Aemond's eye is still fixated on Aegon, and the two men seem to be locked in a fierce staring contest. You can feel the tension in the air increasing as both men glare at each other, their hostility and aggression rising even higher. Aegon’s grip on you tightens even more, and you feel like you're being smothered.

"I will not let you touch her!" Aemond snaps, and you can tell he's barely holding back his anger. His face is a mask of fury, his body is tensing up, as if he's preparing to attack at any moment. He seems absolutely determined to protect you, and you can feel the raw power and aggression coming off of him like a storm of fury. Neither man wants to back down in this stand off, and they continue to glare at each other with a sense of simmering fury. You're trapped in the middle, with all of this tension and hostility growing around you. Your body is being overpowered by Aegon’s grip and you can't move away. "Please let me go..." Your voice is completely being ignored by both men as their confrontation becomes more intense and heated. You try to plead with both Aegon and Aemond to let you go, but they both seem to have lost all rationality and their sense of logic. Now all they're focused on is fighting over your possession. You’re trapped, scared and helpless as you continue to plead with him to let you go. But his resolve is like iron, and you can't help but feel like this is the endgame for you, and that you're going to be carried off in the king's arms at any moment now.

Aegon finally releases you from his grip, and you fall to the floor at his feet. You can feel him looking at you with a cold and menacing glare, but you're also relieved to be free from his grasp. You have a few seconds of hesitation and fear before Aemond pulls you behind him. You cling onto his back as he faces Aegon and you can feel his anger overflowing like an overflowing cup of wrath. "A-aemond..." you whimper, clinging onto him for support. He's the only thing in this room that seems like it could protect you right now. You feel like you're safe with him, but you still can't help but feel terrified at what might happen next.

"I am going to escort her to a guest room and then I’ll deal with you, Aegon." Aegon stares at Aemond with a deadly look of fury, but he doesn't resist. He lets Aemond lead you out of the room, and you're still clinging onto him for support. You feel safe and protected in Aemond's arms, but you still can't help but feel a bit of hesitation and uncertainty. Aemond's tone is stern and authoritative as he leads you out of the room. He doesn't look back at Aegon, and he keeps his eyes focused on the task of safely getting you away from him. You can feel him breathing softly next to you, and you can feel his muscles flexing slightly with each step he takes as he leads you out of the room. He leads you through the halls of the castle. Your body still clinging onto him as a source of protection and comfort, and you’re slightly trembling with fear and nerves. Despite being stern and authoritative, he's also being very gentle and careful with you.

The two of you finally arrive at a room, and Aemond closes the door behind you. He turns to face you, and you can see the intense look in his eye as he stares at you for a moment. You feel like you're being scrutinized by that penetrating gaze, and it makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. He's not smiling or being friendly like before, but instead he seems to be assessing you in an oddly intense way. Aemond stays silent for a minute, continuing to look at you with that intense gaze. You feel like he's looking at you like a stranger, and you feel like he's judging you based on what happened back there. You feel a bit nervous under his intense stare, and you feel like he's not being friendly at all. You have no idea what sort of reaction he is going to have to this situation, and you feel very vulnerable as a result. You still feel like a trembling nervous mess under his stare. After a minute of silence, he finally speaks in a stern voice. "So...what happened back there?" His tone is very serious and stoic, there's no hint of friendliness in his voice. His eye is penetrating, looking into your soul. You don't know what to say, and you feel like your words are being scrutinized heavily. "I, I gave him a message from Queen Rhaenyra." Aemond’s face remains stoic and unchanged, and he waits for you to say more. His face show no hint of a reaction to what you've said, and he continues to stare at you with that piercingly intense gaze. "I have no idea what it says... But I can only imagine... Aegon isn't the rightful king." His face still remains expressionless, studying you intensely. He still seems very cautious and distrustful. He seems suspicious of your reason for delivering the message in the first place. "So, you're trying to steal my brother's crown?" Aemond finally spoke, and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. His tone filled with a suspicious kind of disdain. His words were loaded with malice and anger as he accused you of trying to steal his older brother's crown. You could not help but feel your heart beating in your throat at his accusation. "Your queen is a usurper, and a thief. She is trying to steal my brother's crown."

Your heart skipped a beat when Aemond moved closer and caressed your cheek gently, your body shuddering slightly at the touch. You could feel the heat of his breath and his touch on your skin, and your whole body felt like it was trembling under his grasp. "I'm afraid your our prisoner now, dove." His touch made you shiver and tremble in a way that you found both thrilling and frightening. The way he caressed your cheek with his thumb was so tender and gentle, his touch was like a gentle caress sending butterflies through your whole body. "My father will have your head for keeping me hostage!" Your words seem to be have a profound effect Aemond's stance as he stops caressing and backing away slightly. His eyes are filled with a sudden flash of anger and hostility, and he seems to be glaring at you with a mixture of distrust and fury. He then speaks in a harsh and stern voice. "My brother will also have your so called queen’s head for being a traitor to the throne! You should be grateful that I have chosen to keep you safe." His sudden outburst of anger and hostility took you off guard, and you had no idea how to handle his sudden change of mood. You felt like a small and powerless creature facing off against a giant beast. His tone was menacing and he seemed so much stronger and more frightening than you remembered him to be. As he spoke, his anger and hostility made you feel even more vulnerable and scared. This was not the gentle and friendly Aemond you remembered, this was a whole different beast entirely. "I am protecting you. Your so-called queen would never treat you with such care as I have." He took one step closer again, his tone sounding more insistent and authoritarian than before. You could feel the heat of his breath and the intensity of his gaze, and your heart was beating out of your chest. "I will take care of you. I will protect you." He spoke softly this time, almost sounding like a whispering voice. You felt like your whole body was trembling with fear and nerves, but you felt a strange sense of comfort underneath the intensity of his gaze. You felt like a small animal being held tightly in the grip of a predator, but in this predator's eyes you found a hint of kindness and tenderness. "Do you see how I am treating you? Like a precious jewel. Like a delicate flower. Like my little rose."

[guardian5tiger3]

Pick a picture tarot reading

Whatever comes out

Groups

1 2

3 4

Group one

You guys need to or are letting the past go in order to step into better energy(ies).

However you've been feeling be it trapped, or stuck, maybe depressed,negative in some way it's pretty different depending on the person, but regardless, the point is sort of that that all doesn't and definitely won't matter soon. You all are needing to /are finding a balance between your masculine and feminine sides of yourself. If not those energies some type of balance within yourself. That will then reflect onto your outer world. You all are manifesting something and it is a very refreshing energy. It may be something bad or negative being exposed. It is some kind of truth coming out for most of you. If somebody did something negative they're definitely not getting away with it. Even and actually especially if you don't already know about it. Soon you will. Or at least someone that can and will do or say something about it will know.

Could also just be the universe itself setting that right somehow

Group two

It kind of seems like something was brought up and put to an end. But maybe it still is happening or someone is still doing something OR has the potential too. This is a super strange reading I'm getting a lot of different super specific scenarios. So for instance ,if someone is enjoying something that is yours and is from your energy like maybe your roommate or family has someone over and they eat your food. Or for someone animals or bugs are eating food or herbs out of your garden/yard whatever. I'm getting something about a church so maybe something for one of you is going on like that at your church it seems like it's talked about. So you all have a problem like this so in terms of a solution for all of you.. some of you need other people's help, some of you need to have your guard up, maybe a camera , maybe a fence put up.some of you the ending already put to this is good enough though especially if or it would work if you did something to scare someone like set up something to make a loud noise. I am also very much getting to tell you all that this situation is very dependent on how you look at it. You could be like, oh how cute a squirrel is eating my plants :)... Or , hey somebody is in need I'm glad they're looking to my energy because that would be generous of me to help or to give. Whatever it may be.

Group three

Someone is doing mental manipulation on you. Maybe they're just saying things to make you depressed, some of you someone is doing magic on you, maybe even mind control. Especially if you're in a state of rest or some type of keeping it lowkey or even just depression lately. Also if you've just been sleeping a lot. Something like that. This is cause the universe is meant to be gifting you something right now. It's especially about home life for a lot of you. Also for a good few of you your love life. Maybe getting a new dog for someone. Moving homes to somewhere better for another few. You guys need to accept a negative energy for being negative , have strength over it and move on. It will be better after you do so. For some reason this is reminding me that yesterday I was so tired but I still decided to , and did work out anyway. I needed it and I did and do feel better but like you guys it just seems like, hey keep going even though you're tired or feeling like you wanna lay low right now. Inner strength. Now is the time to keep going.

Group four

You all have an angel guiding and helping you. Especially about anything you might not see or know, or going through something that isn't fully clear to you what's really going on. This could be a living person or a spirit. If anything bad happened in your past or especially childhoods just know that somebody did see it or knows or believes you and they understand and it will be made right. For some of you I'm getting the energy of two different males or for someone, one very two faced one. Seems like people who have done something wrong to someone else. What spirit wants you guys to know and what they want you to do is to build yourself up, in some way and for some of you build a foundation for yourself or something. Focus on and make sure you're good when it comes to money. Trust spirit in this as well. Like I said, you're all being guided. You should listen to some calming and or sweet music if that makes sense. That's how I know to word the energy I just got. I'm thinking about the grateful dead but that's just me.

[pastel-rights]

In your opinion what would your friends arts taste like?

Oh? Hmmm, let me think about it~

Let's see...

Rina's art tastes like a strawberry lollipop tbh, always a sweet treat to see it on my feed <3

Lupi's art kind of tastes like cherry garcia ice cream, which is unironically my favorite ice cream flavor. It's nice, it's special, it's classic and classy. It's so smooth and chill and it's got fun pops of flavor/color.

Pins' art tastes like a hi chew candy, comes in many different flavors, each piece its own unique flavor, yet it always comes out soooo good no matter that it is she does. how does she do it.

Fifi's art... uhh... kind of gives off the vibes of frozen koolaid. but like specifically the grape flavor. couldn't tell you why, grape koolaid is just better frozen.

Beth's art tastes like a fresh banana bread muffin. I do make the rules, and this is my answer. I fucking love banana bread muffins.

Klai's art is giving... fresh fruit vibes. It's always nice and refreshing to see, comes in batches, can be sweet, can be sour, or my favorite third fruit option, "girl what IS this" (doesn't know what she's looking at fr fr)

Mario's art kind of gives those granny strawberry candies that only manifests with grandmothers???? I need more but I have NO clue where to find it /j

my wife. my beloved. my dearest. she doesn't draw a lot (she does edits though??? do that count???) but it gives watermelon vibes. I don't know why, but it's just really sweet and refreshing to see her art every once in a while and sometimes I go back and I just look at it and it's always nice no matter when I go look at it. kind of like watermelon.

Yuu's art is giving red velvet vibes. If I consume too much of it in one day, I will die of sugar overdose /j it's also just always so nicely put together, the colors and lineart compliment one another so well and it's just oughhhh ahhhh how DARE you. /j

Joe's art reminds me of chocolate lava cake, it's so rich and sweet, can't consume it too fast, I will burn myself, and the color schemes joe uses just reminds me of a chocolate lava cake?? especially when the chocolate is red inside... hehe...

Emma and Al's art both kind of give those ICEE slushies machines. They're always there at the most wild and opportune moments, kind of cold and chilly and nice to see on a day when things are just a little too plain. Fun pops of excitement.

Sleepy's art ALSO gives those strawberry candies, but more so, there's just something so nice and nostalgic about their art whenever I come across it.

Clown's art feels like those mixed bags of themed gummies... like scooby doo gummies... mixed bags of contents, sweet, always wondering what I'm gonna get this time!! always a nice surprise.

Navi's art is also kind of giving red velvet cake for the same reasons as Yuu's art was.

uhhh i'm pretty sure i'm missing people so y'know if you don't see yourself on this list... heyyyyy hit me up /j

[evewasheretoday]

More Heathers (Movie) Headcanons!

Heather Chandler's love language are acts of services and words of affirmation.

Heather McNamara's love language are words of affirmation and quality time.

Heather Duke's love language are acts of service and quality time (with a sprinkle of gift giving because she's materialistic).

Veronica Sawyer's love language are words of affirmation and quality time.

Heather Duke is an ambivert but leans more onto her introverted side.

Heather McNamara is no doubt an extrovert.

Chandler used to be a very sporty kid.

Veronica hated books when she was a child.

How did she come to like them now? Well, Betty happened and she was influenced by her.

Duke used to hang out with Martha at her house a lot when they were still kids and were still good friends with each other.

Betty and Veronica were close to each other since childhood but when they got into high school, they grew apart from one another.

Mac knows that Chandler is a bad person but she doesn't care because while she might be the living embodiment of cruel, she was a good friend to her.

Duke was raised in a family that cared a lot about their image, it extended from one generation to another.

Duke and Mac both have the fear of abandonment but Duke has it a bit more severe because of how Chandler can just easily throw her away like an unwanted broken toy.

Veronica never really participated that much with the Heathers when they bullied people.

The only things she would do when she was participating were throwing a snarky comment here and there while hitting on the person's insecurity at it.

Veronica was usually just backup in case a person were too much of a handle for the Heathers.

Chandler DOES genuinely enjoy Veronica's company a lot.

She'll never tell that to anyone, of course. It's not a good thing to be known when you're her after all.

Mac is very naive and it makes her a very easy target to be controlled hence why Chandler has her so wrapped around her fingers.

While they all have an image to maintain and relationships that are mostly built for selfish (insincere) reasons.

They did somehow form genuine things out of it and as time passed, the lines between being actual genuine friend's and feeling like business partners to each other started to blur or mix.

Duke DID feel guilty about leaving Martha and becoming part of the Heathers but it disappeared slowly as she focused on other things than feeling guilty about it.

Mac wasn't fully aware she was bullying people back then until someone she bullied had enough of it and decided to point it out.

Mac was really conflicted with it but Chandler convinced her that the little “jokes” she would often make out of people they considered as losers were harmless.

That's when Mac started to become morally ambiguous apart from knowing Chandler is a bad person but still remaining by her side because she's a good friend to her.

Chandler is nicer to Mac than Duke because Mac has been her friend since forever and because unlike Duke, Mac didn't need that much pushing or persuading.

Chandler doesn't really know how to feel about Veronica, she wants her around and enjoy her company more than maybe Duke & Mac but she wouldn't hesitate to push Veronica into a lake for a mean prank or to remind the brunette of her place.

Veronica DOES care about the Heathers but it's a constant on and off thing she has with them.

Duke was hesitant and very reluctant to join the Heathers, it took Chandler a few weeks to finally make her change her own mind about it.

Duke has a little bit of a god complex along with Veronica.

JD did care when he made Veronica accidentally kill Chandler but after the blonde died, he had never felt so alive.

It was so refreshing to feel like that after feeling so numb and dead for years now.

JD has a god complex.

He also sorta has a martyr complex?

He couldn't imagine himself with anyone than Veronica.

Veronica meant a lot to JD but at the same time, she could have mattered less when it came to his goals.

[justmystyles]

Hey, you are literally one of my favorite writers out here. I honestly love every piece you've written, it's just all really really really good. (guess I am not as good with words as you, oops)

Anyway, I am so glad your requests are open. I was wondering if you could write something where the reader comes from a difficult family. emotionally abusive mother, distant father, eldest daughter syndrome, all that jazz.

So she's sort of moved away but still keeps in touch with her family cuz she does sorta love them but it's hard. So it's like she's got some body image issues and she's closed off, pretty funny but likes to use humor to hide her feelings, has a lot of acquaintances but doesn't like sharing herself with people much (why do I feel like I am describing someone specific lol)

And one day it all just becomes too much ig. I don't know exactly how the story goes, guess I am just looking for some comfort. had a weird few days.

Honestly, love you work. You're great. Thank you for reading that bs. Doesn't matter much if you decide to write it or not. You're already perfect. <3

Let's talk about this ask I got a few weeks ago, shall we?

First of all, I am honored to be considered one of your favorite writers on here, your words are so sweet and I love you.

Now, getting down to business, this ask genuinely made me cry because I know this reader. I am this reader and it was truly terrifying that a stranger on the internet described me so well to me. As soon as I read this, I knew it was going to be my next series, and after weeks of taking down notes and ideas, I finally started actually writing it today.

It'll still be a bit before I start putting it out there, this premise means so much to me that I want to really take my time and do it the justice it deserves, but I have included a little teaser for you below the read more so that you can get a taste of what I'm working on. I've also tagged my tag list peeps so that you all can see what I've been up to.

I'll still be working on NYIML and the other asks I have (if you sent me one, I love you and I'm working on it, please be patient, life has kind of blown up over the last week or so).

You would watch on in awe, watching the music come to life, watching Harry work. From time to time, you would meet his gaze, noticing a softness in his eyes that warmed your insides. You brushed your feelings off, reminding yourself that Harry was just a kind person. He probably looked at everyone like that. He would often invite you to join the group for lunch, or drinks after a successful session. You always declined politely, certain he was just asking to be polite. 

But Harry wasn’t just asking to be polite, and those looks that he threw in your direction were different than the way he would look at anyone else. He was fascinated by you, he felt like he needed to know more. When he met you, he thought you were beautiful, and the refreshments that you had laid out showed how kind and thoughtful you were. But he knew there was more to you, and he couldn’t wait to find out all of it.

You truly were the studio mom, always making sure everyone had what they needed. You would bring coffee and breakfast in the morning, make everyone’s lunch orders, or reservations if they decided to go out. But you would never join them. He found that curious, but also disappointing. He understood if you wanted to focus on work while you were all locked away in the studio, hoping to take those lunches and extra curricular times to get to know you, but those moments never came. 

He had asked your coworkers about you, hoping to gain some kind of intel that could help him break the ice. Everyone told him how sweet you were, always asking about them and their goings on, but often changing the subject when the conversation would turn to you. He also learned about how funny you were. He would have never guessed, based on how quiet you’d been around him. He figured some of that was because of his celebrity status, he was used to people being shy around him, but they would typically warm up over time. You hadn’t. 

There was a bit of worry in his mind that maybe you had an issue with him. You weren’t cold with him, you had always been incredibly kind in your interactions with him and that threw him for a loop. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything he might have said or done to upset you, but nothing came to mind. Perhaps you just weren’t a fan of his? Whatever it was, he was determined to figure it out. 

One afternoon, he was coming back from lunch and he overheard you talking to someone in one of the studios. He lingered by the doorway, he knew eavesdropping was wrong, but he was desperate. 

The conversation wasn’t much, you were just talking about a television show, but he heard the excitement in your voice and couldn’t help but smile. You sounded so cute. And then you laughed, and he could have died right there on the spot. You had an incredible laugh. He wanted to do anything to be the reason that beautiful sound came out of your mouth. 

Harry was so distracted that he didn’t notice that you were coming out of the studio. You weren’t expecting anyone to be standing there, so you bumped right into him. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry Harry.” Your eyes were wide with panic.

He put his hands on your shoulders to steady you. “Don’t be. That was on me. It’s what I get for zoning off in front of doors.” He chuckled. 

You smiled politely and nodded at him. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

“I was actually hoping to talk–”

He was interrupted by the ring of your phone. You pulled it out of your pocket and saw your mother’s name flash across the screen. “Crap, I’m so sorry it’s my mom. Do you mind if I take this?”

“No, not at all. You should always take calls from your mum.” 

“Right,” you scoff. “You’ve never talked to my mother.” You answer the phone, walking away quickly. 

He noticed your posture stiffen when you answered, and he hoped everything was okay. Once you were out of sight, he left, returning to the studio. “Y/N is taking a phone call, she’ll be right back.” 

When you finally returned, you apologized with a smile on your face, but Harry could see the sadness in your eyes. You took a seat at the computer, and he came up behind you, placing his hand softly on your back. You subconsciously relaxed into his touch. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked. 

You put on your best fake smile, which he immediately saw though. “Yeah, thanks.” 

He wanted to press, but he knew it wasn’t the right time or place. He also wasn’t totally sure you even liked him.

@allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat