#like if multiple people are near front or if it's just one in that memory

[nexus-nebulae]

suddenly remembering how we used to write down conversations between our old host and their "ocs" (see: headmates) during school when we were super stressed out. hmm.

[mysticalserenity-tarot]

🌟 What's coming for you in the next few months? (Pick a pile)

{How to pick a pile? First, take a deep breath with your eyes closed to clear your mind. When you open your eyes, don't hesitate – pick the image that immediately grabs your attention or stirs up a memory. Remember, you can pick more than one pile if you feel called to. If none of the images stand out for you, it means there's no message for you at this time. You can always come back to it later.}

𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣

Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3 (from left to right)

Hello, and always a huge thank you to everyone for your incredible support, it means a lot to me!

In this collective pick a pile reading, we'll explore what's in store for you in the upcoming few months. Let's see where your energy takes us.

Disclaimer: This is a collective reading I picked up on multiple energies, so please only take what resonates and leave the rest. When something resonates you usually feel a light energy and in your heart you can feel it's your message, and the pic that attracts you is a clearly sign.

𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣

🕗 PILE 1

5 of Cups, 10 of Swords, The Emperor

(I'm sorry, this is going to be pretty long 😅)

Hello Pile 1, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

First thing I notice: Your cards have all the energy of freedom, and I sense many free-spirited people in this pile, those who do not conform to any strict rules. I also sense some writers amongst you. You prefer to struggle on your own rather than asking for help - oh, my dear Pile 1, I feel you. You need to know that asking for help is not a shameful thing to do. Your loved ones will be more than happy to hold your hand and guide you. You don't listen to anybody, but those that have your best at heart are willing to bring you to higher heights. I sense that you're currently experiencing a period of stagnation, even some conflict with yourself. You may have been hurt by something or someone which put you in a state where you feel like you don't want to do anything, but please do not neglect yourself. I promise better days will come for you. While some of you may be experiencing a dark period, remember that the light is always at the end of the tunnel. Therefore, my advice to you is to never give up and let challenges faze you, as challenges are all lessons, and I promise you'll come back stronger.

What's coming for you are better days indeed - brighter days! I see you getting in a position of authority, and leadership, which will make you stronger and proud of yourself. For others, but a just a few, you may encounter a masculine figure with leadership qualities, it may be your boss or even a potential lover, perhaps your boss will turn into your future lover – I sense a connection here. In the spread in front of me, you're literally looking at this person. They could be a fire or earth sign or have those prominent in their chart. [ friendly reminder, tarot is all about energy and not gender ] Either way, there's going to be stability in your life. This is highlighted not only by the numbers present on the cards, but also by the prominent colors of brown in your spread, which symbolize stability, earthy vibes, and peace. You may also undertake shadow work, which will help you connect with your inner child and foster happiness and peace within yourself, making you stronger and resilient when facing hardships. I also sense orange, which indicates success and encouragement. You're being encouraged to move forward, and steer clear of negative energies which can only bring misfortune.

In conclusion, whether it's a pushing or a willing move, I foresee calm waters in your near future, allowing you to regain lost peace and energy. Some of you may physically travel to another country for holidays or even move permanently. I sense that you may be feeling a bit anxious about this, which is natural when stepping out of your comfort zone. However, these changes will be advantageous to your well-being and overall happiness.

Freedom, transformation, and struggle are crucial themes for you in the coming months.

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 1.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together. [I will be providing more details on my paid readings in the future. Keep an eye out for it]

🕗 PILE 2

2 of Pentacles, the High Priestess, Temperance

Hello Pile 2, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

I sense that you're currently juggling multiple things, stuck between two distinct paths. It could be about love or career. Some of you are indecisive about job opportunities, while others are uncertain about whether to stay or leave a relationship. Trust your intuition if it feels toxic, and listen to your heart. I feel like many of you are evaluating whether to confess something to loved ones.

In the coming months, I foresee you regaining balance. You'll place more trust in your intuition and listen to yourself more than ever. You'll find balance in various aspects of your life, possibly juggling between career and love. Many of you have detached from the divine/universe, perhaps even abandoned it. However, in the coming months, you'll reconnect with the divine and strengthen your relationship with it. Overall, you'll prioritize your own needs, and the universe (or your beliefs) will bring you to a point of desperation so that you can learn from this lesson and focus on yourself. I'm casually singing on my mind the song "a flash in the night" by Secret Service may signifies unexpected insights or moments of revelation that help you navigate the challenges ahead - which is confirmed by the Ace of Swords coming twice in your reading, and for some also a sign that it's your pile - maybe you listened to it lately or you were born in the 80s, same period when this song was released. Take it how it resonates. It also indicates a need to work on your root chakra for those who aren't, which will be beneficial for grounding and connecting with the earth - the High Priestess may indicate a blessing in disguise involving the Akashic Records; self-discovery - you're going to learn more about yourself, which will also bring you to make better decisions and beneficial only for you.

2/22/222 may be significant (and ironically this is pile 2! 😁) also, it indicated clever decisions which you'll make or have to in order to get close to your goals and reach success. I believe in you, guys!

Balance, inner strenght, reconnection with the divine are important themes for you in the upcoming months.

Thank you for allowing to read your energy, Pile 2.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together. [I will be providing more details on my paid readings in the future. Keep an eye out for it]

🕗 PILE 3

8 of Cups, 2 of Wands, Knight of Wands

You're leaving something hurtful behind, aren't you? I feel like you're fed up with suffering and moving towards the bright light - well done, beautiful! But there's still uncertainty about whether to accept that job opportunity or that potential romance. You're seeing others realizing your dreams and you're here like "when it's going to be my turn?" Both of these choices have a waiting period, as the saying goes, 'good things come to those who wait.' This is exactly what your reading represents. If you're evaluating a decision, go for it because it will free you from the burden. You may resonate with pile 2, check it if you felt attracted to it.

In the upcoming months, you'll experience the sweet breeze through your hair, the feeling of lightness in your feet, and the warmth of the sun on your skin. Many of you are stuck in your comfort zones, and I know it isn't easy to leave them. However, if you don't try, you'll never know what opportunities await. Your passion will be reignited, and you'll find joy either with your loved ones or alone. Some of you will finally take this "risk" and you're going to celebrate this big achievement and finally be proud and love yourself more, which is also the key of manifestations coming into fruition. Others of you are going to meet a youthful energy, like a knight taking you on adventures. This person, whether a lover, friend, or family member, will bring you new experiences and might even pull you out of your comfort zone. Take it as a sign from the universe that you need to step out of your comfort zone. My dear, you're too focused on work/studies and likely have exams, you need some relaxation and experiences/adventures that will light your mind. Keep pushing yourself, but remember to take breaks to not get stuck in this negative energy causing you to burn out sooner or later.

Leaving what no longer serves you, stepping out of your comfort zone, and finding exciting new opportunities, are all important themes for you in the coming months.

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 3.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together. [I will be providing more details on my paid readings in the future. Keep an eye out for it]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ANY LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT IS APPRECIATED, ALSO IF YOU LET ME KNOW IF IT RESONATED.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EACH ONE OF YOU'S SUPPORT, I'M GRATEFUL 🤗🤍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note that I used AI language bot to help improve grammar and spelling in my readings, as English is not my first language. However, the interpretations and insights provided in my readings are all my work, based on my intuition and the cards' symbolism.

Disclaimer: Tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only and are not meant to predict or dictate your future. The cards provide insights and guidance, but the ultimate power of choice lies with you.

[usagiarchive]

angel of the codeine scene — [09] over and and over again

prev / masterlist / afterword

sypnosis. [ 1.6k words. epilogue ] — The end of the suffering and the beginning of a new start.

usagi's note: HI i hope u guys read my afterword, there is so much i wanna say, but in case u guys, don't read it, i just really wanna say thanku for choosing to read this, ily guys, thanks for reading until the end <3

Rex Lapis was not indifferent.

He tries really hard to give Liyue and its people the epilogue after the war, to preserve the peace they protect, and to give his remaining yaksha the epilogue he deserves.

He tries, really.

Because he couldn't give the same to himself.

In a war where you are blessed to find love, you will be cursed to choose who to protect. Yourself? Your people? Or your lover?

There are no multiple choices, you can only choose one.

Rex Lapis had to find out the hard way.

He sends for Baizhu-yisheng and Changsheng-xiaoren again, just to make sure his warrior doesn't lose hope.

To make sure he doesn't have regrets.

To make sure he gets his own epilogue.

At sunset, they perform the ritual once again.

…

The hair on the back of Xiao's next rose once he saw the golden beacon of light once more.

He's seen this once.

Back when…

He… it… he doesn't want to hope.

The Conqueror of Demons hears his god's summons. He goes.

…

“Are you sure it's alright to do this…?” Baizhu asks as he helps clothe your…? (was it still you?) body…? into new garments.

“To do what?” Rex Lapis asks as he ties your hair up.

You- or rather what Baizhu thinks is a reincarnation of you, has been blinking sleepily for the past half hour, leaning over to Liyue’s Archon.

“To bring her back to life?”

“Hm…” The Archon thinks as he pets your head, “She's not dead, hasn't been at all,”

Baizhu's eyebrows knit together, waiting for the man to explain.

“But, the scene at Luhua Pool?”

He merely laughs, “Simply to immortalize her,” he says, “Luhua Pool is a door to a different plane of existence, it serves to preserve her memories and soul,”

Rex Lapis’ eyes stare at him and smile, “This right here is only a body, a… shell of sorts,”

Baizhu feels horrified at this but at the same time he is intrigued, with this kind of creation, would it be possible to immortalize a normal human?

“Worry not, this has been done many times before, I've done this with Ganyu, too, though her place of transmission was different, Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver have gone through a similar process back in the war,”

Changsheng hisses amusedly at her companion's reaction.

“Baizhu-yisheng, Changsheng-xiaoren? Would you accompany me to Luhua Pool?”

…

There are only a few times Xiao has felt sick to his stomach.

The first was when he was told to eat dreams for the first time.

The second was when he lost you at the river.

The third was when he learned that the other Yaksha had succumbed to death.

And the fourth was when he realized he killed you.

Seeing Luhua Pool again, with Rex Lapis' back to him, was the fifth.

The Archon knew of his presence even before he neared the ground.

“Xiao,” he greets.

“Morax,” Xiao kneels.

“Stand.”

Weapons do not question their wielder. Servants do not question their masters. Demons do not question their gods-

He faces his Archon, “Why?”

Rex Lapis steps aside and he sees…

You.

Zhongli lets out a small sad smile when he sees the warrior buckle at the knees at the sight of you.

“I… How… Is this… Is this a mockery? A punishment?” his warrior says as he tries his hardest not to show emotion in front of his god.

“No, Xiao,” he says as he places a shoulder on his and guides him to you, “A solace.”

“A reprieve.”

“I don't- I don't understand- why would-”

“Would you like to do the honors of bringing her back to you?”

You stare at him with curiosity as Zhongli guides Xiao to you.

You're quiet again.

“Dip her in the water, she already knows what to do, you just need to hold her, I'll take care of the rest,” his voice ever assuring.

“Qingxin…”

Xiao carries you in his arms, the same way he did when he brought you here to rest, he slowly eases you into the water, eyes on you the whole time, watching for any sign of discomfort.

But you only stared back at him, holding nothing of the memories from before.

“Close your eyes, okay?” he murmurs.

Once he sees you nod and your eyes flutter shut, he lowers you deeper into the water until your face is submerged and Rex Lapis begins to chant with Changsheng.

“Qingxin,” Xiao closes his eyes and presses his forehead to yours under the water.

“Come back to me.”

…

In the dusk, among the quiet of the night, Luhua Pool glows with beauty, the fireflies string around to illuminate and enhance the reflection of the moon above.

…

Your hand catches onto the back of Xiao's neck and he lifts your face above the water.

The chanting from the two has already ended and they stand to watch as the conqueror of demons wipe away the water from your face as you cough a bit.

His hand stays to cup your face.

“Xiansheng?”

Tears drip onto your face without him even realising it.

“Forgive me,” he chokes on his words, “I never- I never meant to- to hurt you, or- or to lose control, I- I should've been faster, I should've- should've asked for- asked for he-”

“Hey, hey, no,” you say as you pull him into your neck, “I'm fine, I'm here, I'm with you,”

Xiao sobs even harder into your neck, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry,” he repeats over and over.

You pull Xiao, your Xiao, into your arms and give him the tightest embrace you could muster with your current strength right now and he bunches the back of your hanfu as he hugs you loosely, not wanting to hurt you with his strength.

As he buries his face into your neck, you're caught with the sight of Morax looking at the two of you with a smile, Baizhu-yisheng and Changsheng-xiaoren nowhere to be found.

“Thank you,” you mouth.

He nods and leaves in a trail of golden light.

You thread your fingers into Xiao's hair and he sighs the last of his sobs into your skin.

“Xiansheng, should we go home?”

Xiao pulls away from you and nods, wiping at his face with his hands, you giggle as you help him, his eyes still rimmed with red.

“Come now, we have a lot to talk about,” you say and he warps away.

…

That night was the most you've ever heard Xiao talk, or at least according to your memories, which were still a bit fuzzy, but you remember enough from your first reincarnation.

The memories from your time with Xiao in the war were even fuzzier now, as if they were books you've read but can't remember the context of, only returning in feelings or scents.

Xiao has apologized more than eighty times that night, his tears endless as you comfort him in your arms.

“Don't worry, now that the whole reincarnating thing is an option, you won't get rid of me so easily,”

“I wish not to be rid of you at all,” he says, voice still stuffy from crying.

“How cute,” you say as you pinch the cheek that wasn't resting on your chest, “The conqueror of demons all so soft,”

…

The two of you talk for the rest of the night, helping each other understand, and taking the time to make him understand that it wasn't his fault.

Xiao promises never to hurt you again and you promise never to leave his side for too long.

After all, his karmic debt, even if significantly reduced by your previous incarnation, was still active.

You decide to get tea with Morax the next day.

…

“Ah, that,” he says as he pours a fruit blend tea, sunsettia and apple tea, “Well, to be frank with you, I haven't the slightest idea of how you reduced his karmic debt,”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that you created me to 'heal him', but you yourself have no idea how to?”

It was… a bit unnerving for Xiao to hear you question his Archon so openly.

“Yes, forgive me, dear, I only wanted a reprieve for your beloved,” he says and takes a sip of his tea.

“That's so… hmph,” you huff and take a sip of your tea.

“Well, what about how I heal him?” You ask a different question.

“I have my suspicions that it aided your untimely death,” Morax says.

“What?”

“Well, the universe must find balance, to take is to be given, and to be given is to take.”

Xiao's brows knit together, “Are you saying she died because she healed me?”

“Yes, Xiao, although I can bring her back, so I do not think it will be an issue, on another note, too, the karmic debt does not further resurface after she somehow heals it,”

The warrior holds his head, that was… a lot of information to take in… he takes a look at you and sighs, this will surely be your topic for the night.

“Wait, I don't get it, if you could bring me back, why didn't you bring Guizhong-xiangsheng back?”

The Archon smiles sadly.

“Because her body didn't have a medium to preserve her memories,” he paused, “She did not want to be reincarnated, she told me so,”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” you apologize as you pour him another cup of tea.

He laughs at that, “No worries, my child, it is in the past, I'm sure wherever Guizhong is now, she is happier and at peace,”

He looks up at the sky and feels the breeze flow through his hair.

As you look at Xiao, who seems to enjoy the breeze of the wind, too, you think.

You'll choose Xiao.

You'll choose to reincarnate.

You'll heal him and rid him of his karmic debt.

Over and over again.

Until you both get the epilogue you deserve.

prev / masterlist / afterword

usagi's note: ITS 😭 OVER 😭 I 😭 CANT 😭 BELIEVE 😭 IT 😭 im so thankful to everyone who read seriously ily all, to those in the taglist, tysm, i never would've imagined people would actually read this, pls read the afterword if u have time!! im gonna say a lot there, i hope u all take care mwa !! see u next time gbye!!

taglist (open!! green can't be tagged): @irenedoesthings @cherrysnows @makuzume @smoochi-modest @bvtterflyyy @original-person @aphxdea @iratempestatis @constellationguy @lloversss @femaholicc @arietheyluv

@usagiarchive 2025. do not repost, translate, or use for AI. reblogs, likes, and comments are very appreciated!!

[jeridandridge]

For Lovers At Night pt 1

Melissa meets someone that makes her reevaluate her marriage and life choices. Pre-doc crew at Abbott. Part 1

Melissa Schemmenti is miserable. Sitting at her kitchen table mindlessly flipping through a book her eyes catch the gold band on her finger. Joe had promised her when they first got married he would get her a diamond as soon as they got money. That was twenty years ago. She thinks back to before she got married, how carefree and happy she was. She spent her free time in clubs, bars, and artists dens, meeting whoever she wanted and most importantly being a mysterious woman that did whatever she wanted.

Sitting at the table she closes the book and stands up knowing Joe won’t be home for dinner anyway. Heading through the house she goes to their rarely shared bedroom and opens the closet door. Pushed to the side of the closet sits an old leather jacket she hasn’t worn since… god she can’t remember. Most likely since she and Joe got back together the last time.

Running her hand along the tough leather a small smile spreads across her lips as memories are brought back to her. The last time she wore it she opted on the back of a gorgeous woman’s motorcycle and flipped Joe off as they rode off into the night together.

That feels like a life time ago now.

Pulling the jacket out she slips it on and fluffs her hair looking in the mirror. She notes the crows feet by her eyes, the way her freckles are more prominent now in her forties. Looking at her hand she flexes her fingers for a moment. Taking a breath she slowly slides her wedding ring off setting it on the dresser.

When Melissa gets in her car she’s not sure where she’s going, but she knows she’s going into the city. Somewhere alive and lit up. Sticking her hand out the window as she drives she moves her fingers along the chilly night air, her ring finger bare for the first time in many years feels weightless against the wind. She can’t help but smile to herself, something she realizes is happening at random.

Driving through the busy streets she goes to an old haunt of hers not even knowing if it’s still open or not. In an old building on one of the bustling streets of Philly sits an old bookshop, The looking Glass, one that she went to many times in her college days and even after. Pulling up she beams seeing the store still there and the open sign on. She could go for a fireball hot toddy and a new book tonight.

Going up to the door a whiff of fresh books and coffee hit her, throwing her right back to her college days. Walking inside everything’s the same. The hot drink section with its bar behind it, the small counter on the opposite side holding the register and other little items for purchase, multiple seating areas, and of course the shelves and shelves of books so cramped together that if it were any other place it would be a problem. Melissa feels at home.

Walking past people she glides through the rows of books looking around and getting lost in her little chunk of paradise she hasn’t had in so long. Across the establishment behind the bar, you nudge your friend nodding towards the row of books the gorgeous redhead is standing near.

“Just your type. Good luck with that one.” He pats your shoulder as he goes to the back room. Looking across the room with a smirk on your lips you watch the redheaded stranger reach up for a book, her hair cascading down her back in waves. She was beautiful.

Across the room Melissa turns around book in hand, flipping through the pages as she walks up to the bar not bothering to look up until she’s standing right in front of you. “Hi, what can I get for ya?”

Melissa looks up with a friendly smile playing with the spine of the book she found. “Can I get a fireball hot toddy, hon?”

“Name for the order?” You ask moving around the work area, black warm cup in hand.

“Melissa.”

“Melissa, I’ve never seen you in here before.” You smile writing her name on the cup in gold flowy letters.

Setting the book down on the counter so she can open her purse, Melissa shrugs. “I haven’t been here in a long time.”

“I figured. I’d remember someone like you.” You smile making the drink and sliding it on the counter.

Melissa catches the comment and the way you’re looking at her, and feels a warmth spread through her. “I doubt it, hon.” She chuckles handing the money over for her drink.

“If you need another or just wanna have a riveting conversation, I’ll be here.” You gesture to the counter with a laugh.

Melissa looks at your name tag with a smile.

“Thanks, hon. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Moving across the room with her drink and book in hand Melissa sits on a sofa near a dim lamp, just far enough to glance up every so often to the woman behind the bar. Sipping her drink the warmth from the alcohol spreads through her chest giving her a comforting feeling she hasn’t felt in a long while. The woman behind the counter is stunning, and something about her eyes made Melissa feel something deep within her that she can’t place just yet.

Eventually, she gets lost in her book and before she knows it she’s more than halfway through it and the woman from the bar is gently tapping her arm.

“Melissa, we’re closing up.” You hum with a soft smile.

The bar is quieter now, people are heading out and the main lights are on. Melissa looks around the bar and begins to gather her things. “Sorry, I got lost there.” She chuckles.

“Don’t apologize, I would too if I were reading Jane Rules greatest love story,” you smile.

“You’ve read it?” She asks curiously.

“I have, it was a big deal for me in high school.”

“So when, last year?” Melissa teases making you laugh in return.

“No, more like fifteen or so years ago.” You hum. “Something about an older woman breaking free of a metaphorical cage and finding herself with the help of a wild younger woman always intrigued me.” You admit with a smile. “Let me buy it for you.” You offer.

“I can’t let you do that, hon.” Melissa shakes her head.

“Sure you can. I own the place, I can do what I want.”

Melissa looks at you in awe. You looked so young yet here you were with a business and a personality wise beyond your years. Before she can say anything else you’re already wiping down the coffee table with a rag.

“Wow. It really has been a long time since I’ve been here.” Melissa sighs. “Thank you, for the book and the environment.”

“You don’t need to thank me, just come in more often.” You smile.

And that’s what she does.

The next night Melissa makes sure her hair and makeup are to the nines, her jeans are tight, her nails are painted, and she may or may not spray on an extra shot of perfume. Standing in front of the mirror she fluffs her hair once more and takes a breath.

“Where are you going all dressed up?” Joes voice sounds from the bathroom, a rare thing now.

“Barb talked me into a book club.” She offers with ease. He still hadn’t noticed her wedding ring was off and he didn’t ask any questions- just how she liked it.

“That sounds nice. Have a good time.” He says closing the door.

It doesn’t take long for Melissa to grab her keys and make her way to The Looking Glass. Walking through the door there are more people than the night before given the fact it’s a Saturday night. The redhead can’t help but frown, a pang of sadness hitting her as she makes her way in and doesn’t see the woman from the night before.

Slipping through the crowd she gets to the bar looking up at the menu despite being ready to order her wine.

“Melissa!”

Across the floor near the back doorway the mysterious woman from last night appears.

“Hi, hon.” She lets out with a giddy grin, her heart leaping in her chest as you beckon her over with the wave of your hand. “I didn’t think you were here.”

“I’m always here.” You chuckle. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” You admit with a smile as you lean against the side of the bar.

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “I overthink too much I guess.”

“Yeah, I know the feelin.”

“Come with me, I want your opinion on something.” You hold your hand out to the redhead.

Gently taking the younger woman’s hand Melissa feels her cheeks heat up at the simple touch. Walking to the back hand in hand she can’t help but feel butterflies in her chest.

“So it’s dark and cold now,” you start flicking a single hanging lightbulb on, “but I’m planning on expanding the sitting area to here. Less storage, but more room for pretty girls to browse through the books.” You smirk.

Melissa tips her chin up with a matching smirk meeting your eyes. “Do you flirt with all your customers this way?”

“No, I can’t say I do. Just the one I find incredibly beautiful.”

Smile not faltering, Melissa ducks her head realizing your hands are still entwined together.

“Careful, I might think you’re interested in me.” She chuckles lightly.

“And if I am?” You smile.

“I think,” Melissa whispers, her ringless hand still in the woman’s, “I’d like that.”

Everything Melissa knows goes out the window when she sees the look in your eyes. She thinks of all the shit Joe has put her through the last twenty years and how she can be happy if she allows that for herself. It’s what she desperately wants.

“I can’t stay long tonight, but I’d really like to talk to ya while I’m here.” She offers with a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you can that is.”

“I can,” you smile. “Come with me.”

As Melissa is lead through the back room once again she gently squeezes the woman’s hand as they get to the office in the back of the building. It’s simple, a desk, a large couch, and of course a couple bookshelves.

“Make yourself at home,” you offer letting your hand slip away from the redheads, fingers brushing as you go to the small fridge in the corner. “Do you like wine?”

“It’s usually my go to. I bet you have the really good stuff.”

“I do, but this is regular stuff.” You chuckle taking out the chilled bottle. “I’ll have to break the good stuff out another night.”

“Already thinking about seeing me again?” Melissa grins watching her hands move. The lust she felt for the woman was something she’d not felt in her marriage in over ten years and she forgot how much she missed the warm feeling.

“Not to scare you off, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night.” You admit handing her a glass of wine.

“Trust me, hon it takes a lot to scare me off.” Melissa was terrified of what she was doing, but she didn’t need to share that.

“Interesting.” You grin into your own glass. “You seem really mysterious, Melissa.”

“Private mostly,” the redhead shrugs. She’d always been private. Her family and connections were usually all she needed in her life, it even took a full year at Abbott Elementary before she let her best friend, Barb, into her life and that was ten years ago.

“So if I gave you my phone number could I expect a call from a restricted number?” You joke.

“No,” Melissa smiles fishing the device out of her purse, unlocking it before she hands it over. “It’ll be just a number.”

Taking the phone in your palm you type your number in followed by your name handing it back after you hit save.

“I haven’t done this in a long time.” Melissa chuckles nervously, so uncharacteristic of the hard exterior she presents.

Sipping your wine you lick your lips setting the glass down. “Someone hurt you pretty good didn’t they?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Melissa offers thinking of Joes cheating and lack of presence. “I’m kinda gettin over it though.”

“Well, whoever they are, I feel sorry for them.” You smile as the redhead finishes her wine.

Melissa can’t help but duck her head a bit at that. “Thanks, hon.”

“Tell me about them,” you prompt leaning back in your seat.

Melissa sobers up immediately at the question. How could she tell a practical stranger, one she was incredibly attracted to, but still a stranger none the less, that she hated her husbands guts and wanted out before she got any older?

“If I answer you have to tell me something important about you.” She shoots back.

“Deal,” you nod with a smile.

“I-“ Melissa breathes out unsure of where to start, “My ex husband made me miserable. He cheated, rarely came home, expected all the cliche housewife cliche things.” She shrugs through the lie. Yes it was a lie, but not entirely.

“What an idiot.” You shake your head unable to break eye contact with the woman. There was something behind her eyes that you couldn’t yet place, but would soon find out.

“How did you buy this place?” Melissa asks breaking the tension.

“It was left to me. I started working here when I turned eighteen and I’ve been here ever since.” You smile. “The original owner helped me out a lot in college and when she retired, she sold ir to me cheap.”

“That’s amazing,” Melissa smiles. “I always loved it here and I’m happy to see it’s the same.”

“I do my best to keep it up and get more people in here. As much as I love talking about my job, what do you do?”

“I teach second grade.” She offers. During your back and forth, Melissa keeps that same look in her eyes and it only changes when she says she has to leave. It changes from whatever it was before to sadness.

“Let me walk you to your car?” You ask hopefully.

“Yeah, hon. I’d like that.”

Getting up you rest your hand on her lower back as you two walk out to the main part of the building and out the front door.

“That’s it there?” You ask with a laugh spotting a black two door truck.

“That’s me.”

“You get more and more interesting.” You grin as Melissa unlocks the truck. “I hope I hear from you soon.”

“You will, hon.” Melissa smiles while she climbs in.

“Drive safe.” You offer with a nod, settling your hands in your back pockets as you watch the truck drive off into the busy night. Turning around you go back into the bar with a smile knowing you met someone special.

Part 2

[jeonjaemark]

christmas sweater || boo seungkwan

content warning: mentions of death // masterlist

“guys! c’mon! let’s start secret santa!” soonyoung shouts, pulling me to the couch.

i stumble between my feet after trying to bite into my cookie. it crumbles as soonyoung sits me down near him on the floor. i huff a breath of disappointment at my broken cookie and pushed it on the coffee table. everyone gathers around the living room bringing their food or drinks. soft christmas music was playing in the background as quiet conversations break out.

“you just want secret santa to happen already so you get your gift and prove to everyone you gave away the best one.” i teased, nudging him with my elbow.

“my reasons are not selfish for wanting to start secret santa already.”

“no, they’re definitely selfish.” seungkwan chimes in backing me up as he sits next to me.

“if you two are just gonna team up against me the entire time then maybe we just skip the two of you this year.” soonyoung hissed waving us off.

“soonyoung, just start reading the names out for everyone.” seungcheol hissed from the other side of the couch.

he grabs the gifts from under the tree distributing them one by one to each person. i stare up the tree admiring the blue and pink decor covering the white tree. a few pictures of the members were hung around as ornaments making me giggle. of course the tree had the members all over it.

soonyoung reaches for a rectangular blue snowflake box wrapped with a silver sparkly ribbon. he calls out my name and i happily take the gift from him. i try to shake the gift around gently hoping to give away any hints, but i couldn’t really hear anything. the box was light and full which meant there wasn’t going to be a block of gold inside.

once soonyoung passed out the gifts to everyone, each person took a turn opening their gifts. a collective oooh’s and ahhhh’s broke out every ten minutes making it seem like i was watching the minion’s movie.

seungkwan holds up his new hair dryer that he got along with a bag of vitamin powder. all the members took turns each teasing him about how he is going to be a menace having the dryer everyone wanted. he tried to make a few guess on who gave him the gift but one glance around the room gave it away for me. in the corner i noticed jihoon quietly hiding behind jun. his ears were red when seungkwan guessed joshua as his secret santa and went on a whole spiel about why he believed it was joshua.

“why wouldn’t it be him? he likes me.”

“everyone likes you but that doesn’t mean they’ll get you a nice gift.” soonyoung snickers.

“this has joshua written all over it.” seungkwan stood firm on his choice. “i have talked about the hair dryer multiple times in front of him.”

“it’s not me, i swear.” joshua holds his hands up in surrender. “but you’ve talked about the hair dryer in front of everyone a million times.”

“enough guessing. we have five other people to go through with gifts. seungkwan stop taking away the spotlight.” mingyu says. “y/n, it’s your turn.”

i untied the ribbon and slide open the box finding a maroon cardigan with snowflake and reindeer pattern decorating the mid section. i hold up the sweater in front of me and turn it finding the year 1998 stitched in the back.

my heart stops while staring at the cardigan in disbelief. many memories flooded my brain at the person wearing this cardigan.

“y/n, help me with setting the table before grandma arrives.” mom says, placing the food in the center of the table.

the doorbell goes off making olaf bark at the sound to alert us. dad walks past us to the door telling olaf to go to her bed and to quiet down. loud laughter fills the house making my heart jump with a joy. one by one my cousins, aunts and uncles pile into the house. each time the doorbell goes off the clutter of voices gets louder and louder as everyone slowly arrives. i always love the holiday season because it meant being together my family.

i set the plates down when a small wrinkled woman with short curly hair dressed in a maroon with snowflakes and reindeer walks in. the scent of cinnamon fills the dining area making my inside go warm. i abandon what i was doing and rush over to her.

“grandma.” i gushed as she pulls me into a tight embrace. “i missed you.”

“y/n, are you okay?” seokmin asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

the pads of my finger reach my eyes and a tear escapes. i quickly wipe away the tears clearing my throat while i tried to compose myself again.

“y-yeah. i just really love the sweater.”

everyone moved on to the next person to open their gifts as they reacted over a pair of jeans and sweater. the chatter of the members faded as my thoughts grew too loud to focus on the rest of the gift opening.

———

for the past twenty minutes joshua, seokmin and soonyoung were hogging the mic for karaoke while the others were drinking while playing a board game or were playing with their new gifts they got. i stayed out in the balcony wanting to get away from the chaos. no matter how long i stared and held the sweater in my hands, i was still in disbelief. i never thought there would be a day that i would have this sweater in my hands again after losing it.

“hey, do you mind having some company?” a soft voice asked.

i look up finding seungkwan holding two mugs filled with steaming hot chocolate. i nod and he carefully walks out handing me a mug. he takes a seat next to me on the bench. i adjust the heater moving it closer to his side so we both can stay warm.

luckily the air was only chilly instead of freezing cold like usual and the night was a little brighter compared to it being pitch black. it was hard to see the stars from here but it was nice and quiet out compared to the chaos inside. seungkwan doesn’t say anything after adjusting himself on the bench and just stares up at the sky.

“so did you ever figure out who got you the hair dryer?”

“yeah, everyone confessed who got who while you were out here. by the way j——“

“can i ask you something?” i bit my inner lip looking at him.

many thoughts race through my mind whether to ask or not. it would bother me if i didn’t ask but at the same time i didn’t want to ask. there’s too much emotions to unpack. seungkwan clears his throat breaking me out of my thoughts. he straightens his posture seeing a glimpse of something in my eyes. he must have realized how heavy the conversation was going to be. he sets down his mug in the space between us.

“how did you find this?” i held up the sweater to him.

“how are you so sure the gift is from me?”

“seungkwan, i wasn’t born yesterday. no one knows about this sweater except you.”

“i could’ve hint it to someone else to get it for you.”

“seungkwan! you’re my best friend. as much i believe that any of guys would get me a thoughtful gift, it wouldn’t be this special.”

seungkwan and i both stare at each other. as much as he denies it, i know he was the one who got me this sweater. there is no one else in the room that would’ve thought about getting me this. none of them were to know the significance of the sweater. i stood firm on my guess waiting for him to weigh down and confess.

“okay, fine. you guessed correctly. it’s me.” he smiles. “i know how much that sweater means to you. that is the only thing you have that makes you still feel connected to her.”

the holiday season was the one time a year where i felt like my family was normal and got along. the laughter and loud voices of my cousins all talking together as we open our gifts and play games. my aunts doing their zumba to work off the meal they just ate. my uncles all sat at the table together playing poker while drinking and shouting over the call of the game. grandma drifting between hanging out with all the moms or checking up on us kids to make sure we’ve eaten enough food for the next three years.

she recently passed some time ago. i could still remember coming home from class with seungkwan. my mom’s eyes were red and puffy. her face pale like she had seen a monster. seungkwan wouldn’t leave my side the entire week.

the holidays feel a little empty without her. every year since she passed i would wear the sweater believing that she was still here with us around this time. a year ago mom had accidentally sold it during a garage sale back around summer. my heart broke when she confessed to me about it even after trying to track the buyer. at the end of the day she couldn’t find it and i was heartbroken. i kept reassuring mom that it’s okay and it’s not her fault. it was an honest mistake, but it felt like i was losing her all over again.

“it took me a while to find it. i may have been charged a little bit more than the original price but it’s worth it.” he smirks, squeezing my hand.

“thank you. seriously thank you.” i sniffle wrapping my arms around him. “you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“of course. i am happy that i can bring back a little bit of your christmas magic.”

he helps me put on the sweater. he adjusts a few strands in my hair. a rush of warmth floods my veins as i run my fingers off the soft design stitch into the sweater. i lean my nose closer to my shoulder. cinnamon and apples flood my nose and i get taken back to many memories of grandma in this sweater during this season. the way her eyes crinkle in the corner as she claps her hands singing along to the christmas songs. i spin around showing off the sweater to him and he giggles as i tried my best to model.

“beautiful. i am sure you’re grandma would be happy to see you in the sweater again.”

i look back to seungkwan squeezing him tightly. he wraps his arms around me patting my back. i had the most amazing best friend in the world. i couldn’t have picture a more perfect gift.

“uhmmm guys? can you get back in here? seokmin and soonyoung are drunk. they took over the karaoke and now i am scared to take the mic away.” jun says.

“i think we should go save our friends from the drunk karaoke singers.” i laughed tugging seungkwan behind me. “or maybe we can join them.”

[skellseerwriting]

The Stories that Scars Tell

Balor x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Content & Warnings: vague descriptions of Balor’s chest and getting to feel his scar (nothing overtly sexual though), heavy descriptions of his scar, Balor’s a bit of a flirt, mostly soft with some pining

Summary: You’re at the beach and happen to see Balor’s scar fully for the first time, but what happens when he catches you staring?

I really really hope (and believe) that we’ll get scar lore in a future heart event

You didn’t mean to stare like a creep.

Honestly, it was curiosity that tied your eyes to Balor’s chest with an invisible string. No matter where he moved, your sight followed. It wasn’t because of his beach outfit (however nice he may have looked in it) but rather the scar that curved along his chest.

You’d seen peeks of it when he wore his usual clothes. Sometimes the deep collar would shift when he moved his arms or leaned forward. In those moments your eyes would be drawn down towards the tiny flash of scarred skin before returning back to his face. One time he caught you with a “my eyes are up here you know” and almost made you spontaneously combust. Your reaction led him to laugh in all un-seriousness, and with a wink he told you that you were “free to stare anytime”. It took a week to recover from that and you still get nervous just thinking about it. Yet here you were at the beach again; your previous anxieties forgotten.

The gentle waves of the ocean caressed the sand. Each soft sound was an inhale as it pulled away, and each each push forward was an exhale. The rhythm of breath lulled you as you went about your task.

You were gathering coconuts from the trees. Simple enough really. All was well until you stumbled upon him on the sand. Almost immediately, you clocked the outfit change, but didn’t notice how vastly different it was until he turned around and revealed to you his fully-unbuttoned shirt. Now, you couldn’t look away. The scarred tissue was noticeable enough when only a tiny piece was visible, but you had had no idea how expansive it was. It started above his left armpit and traveled across his chest before stopping near the bottom of his right pectoral. It took up the attention of the whole space and framed Balor’s body with uncharacteristic roguishness.

It mesmerized you. It made you ask yourself all sorts of questions about its nature. But most importantly, it made you wonder how Balor felt about it. Did it carry painful memories? Getting it must have certainly been painful. Did he get insecure about other people seeing it?

Just like you were seeing it right now.

“Farmer!” A cheery voice greeted you. Oh no. You nearly dropped a coconut. The past few minutes had been spent by you just standing in front of the tree.

You scrambled to put the edible brown spheres into your satchel. He had caught you. You were staring and he had caught you. Feelings of embarrassment filled you at the thought of him -once again- catching you staring at his chest.

“Balor.” You said with the last of your breath. It took all your effort to look him in the eyes. The corners of his own crinkled.

“I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing any of those in a certain bin later, hmm?” He referenced what you just put in your bag.

Ducking your head, you prayed your complexion didn’t give away how flustered you were. “No, actually. I’m going to make coconut milk with them.”

“That sounds delectably delicious. I’d be delighted to have some if given the chance.” The compliment made you raise your face to see his. Balor winked at you. “But not without paying of course.”

You needed to look away from that wink before you made an expression you couldn’t hide. Unfortunately, your sights landed on the nearest thing they could; his chest. Panic filled you, but it froze you all the same, preventing you from prying your eyes away. Finally blinking multiple times, you managed to tear your eyes away to meet his. Where your face felt like it was in fire, his was charmingly cool; smile plastered on as always.

“Want to feel it?” He asked.

“What?” Your mind blanked at the question, raising your hands in a silent ‘no’. Without missing a beat, Balor grabbed them by the wrists.

“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind.” He said, bringing your palms to his chest and introducing them to hot skin that slowly rose with the expansion of his lungs.

Your head filled with steam that poured out your ears.

“Wh… ar… hfm…” a jumbled mess of syllables loosened out of your tongue while you went braindead at the warm, yet surprisingly supple, skin. Meanwhile, Balor looked down and hummed thoughtfully.

“I got it a few years ago.” He said in a rather quiet manner. It caught your attention and pulled you out of your current stupor. He was usually so charismatic. “Quite a tale behind it.” He murmured, reminiscing the past. Absentmindedly, you rubbed the scar he was inferencing with your thumb. It dipped inward and was slightly pink in colour. You had assumed it would be rough, but were pleasantly surprised by the smoothness it bore. The tale it echoed was a curious one, and you couldn’t help but whisper a soft “how did you get it?” as you brought two fingers up near his shoulder and slowwwly traced along the line on his chest. He shuddered and closed his eyes.

“By being a reckless fool.” He said through his teeth, tightly guiding your hand back up to trace it again. Loosening his grip, he watched as you finished dipping your fingers underneath his right pec and swirled around the the delicate, jagged point there. Still shivering slightly, he became mesmerized by the sight of the pad of your thumb as it continued to brush the trail that marked his journey past; committing it to memory. For a moment, you tipped your nail inward and grazed the pink flesh, only for Balor’s breath to hitch and clutch your wrist to stop the sensation. Letting out a heady sigh, his hands went languid once again. A moment later, however, he reinforced their strength to move your own as he pleased, once again placing your palms flatly against his chest. A fast thud could be felt beneath.

“At least it missed your heart.” You mused, looking at it thoughtfully.

“Yeah…” he drew you in closer to him. “What a terrible thing it would be, to not have a heart.” You felt it beat faster as he said that. Balor leaned in further, seemingly trying to close the distance. Spellbound, you bore into each other’s eyes, trying to catch the other’s soul. The realization of the pain this had caused him overtook you, and you curled your fingers between your hands and the heat of his skin.

“Balor-“

The trance was broken as quickly as it began. He snapped backward. An expensive shade of pink blossomed on his cheeks, and you forced yourself to look away as you pried your hands off of him. While you stood there awkwardly, he desperately attempted to pull himself together. Blushing, he kept trying to find where to configure his hands.

“You have wonderful stories.” You said softly to comfort him. It seemed to work, because he calmed down and settled his eyes on you. “I’d love to hear more of them sometime.”

“I-“ he coughed. “The one I just told you doesn’t really count as a story…”

You gave him an easy-going smile. “I know, but some stories are harder to tell than others. Some carry joy and happy times… but some carry pain. You don’t have to tell me until you’re ready.”

A reemerging grin of confidence slowly grew on his face, but it didn’t quite overpower the current softness of his aura.

“Of course.” He told you. Then, closed his left eye like usual. “I have many great tales to share, so feel free to request one whenever.”

You giggled. “Will do.”

Balor turned shy again; looking down to the side. “And uh, if you ever want to touch my scar again, that’s alright too.”

That familiar heat flushed over you. You pushed past it to place a palm on the middle of his chest and leaned into his ear. “I will.” You lilted. “Thanks, Balor.”

Pulling back, you allowed yourself the pleasure of looking at him in this rare state once more before holding your satchel right by the strap and heading to the last two coconut trees. It took all your will-power not to look back, but while you were busy finishing your foraging, he left the beach unnoticed.

Heading home that evening with a bag full of coconuts, you found yourself smiling at them as you recalled your interaction. Balor being so willing to share those personal details grew a warmth in your chest. It also made you question how often he told other people. Something about the intimate moment made you think he wasn’t wont to share with others, but that was in-part due to wishful thinking. In that moment at least, he was yours. He was full of mysteries and secrets, but he was still yours. Maybe one day he would show you the wonderful things he had hidden under that cloak of mystique. This certainly seemed like the first step towards that. It was an insight into that alluring ambiguity you always saw.

You couldn’t wait to find out more.

Taglist: Balor FoM

@smoochi-march

[pandorasprongs]

PROLOGUE | hold on to the memories.

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.0k

SUMMARY: stories of jamie and reader's friendship over the years, from age 7 to 17.

WARNINGS: language, slight body image/appearance issues, slight panic attack, vague descriptions of sex

A/N: yay! finally starting this fic with sort of an overview/background on their relationship, but there will be more flashbacks throughout the chapters. no gif for this one cause tbh i could not find one that fits the vibes here, but regardless hope you all enjoy the prologue!

Age 7

"You mind handing that back over?" You hear a voice coming from the other side of the fence as you pick up a loose football.

You turn to find a boy around your age in a football kit. His hair was completely waxed to one side, probably to keep it from covering his eyes while playing. You recognize his uniform as your school's football team's, though you're not sure if you've seen him before. Then again, you didn't know anyone in town yet. You had just moved to Manchester a few months ago, just as the school year started and while you had a few people to talk to in class, you didn't have any solid friends really.

You toss the ball back to the boy, who catches it swiftly. You think that's the end of it, so you start heading back to your house when he calls out to you again.

"Hey! What's your name?" You answer him, with him nodding in acknowledgment. "I think I've seen you around the school. I'm Jamie."

He reaches over the fence and extends his arm for you to shake it, despite the fact that you were already at your front door. You walk back and shake it, as he asks, "Do you wanna play football? I got a game tomorrow, but Mum's too busy to play goalie."

You had hoped your look of glasses, multiple layers of clothes, and generally un-sporty demeanor was enough to dissuade offers to play, but this Jamie didn't really seem to care.

"Maybe another time," You reply, but this boy is persistent.

"Okay, do you wanna watch me score goals?" He offers before glancing at the book tucked under your arm and pointing at it. "You can read while I play."

Once you realize that he wasn't going to quit, you finally agree. You head back inside to tell your mom that you'd be playing with your neighbor for the afternoon and since you already finished your homework, she was more than willing to let you go. She always said you needed some fresh air, which was why you were outside in the first place.

You walk back to your yard to find Jamie still standing where you left him, but this time he was practicing his dribbling. He was pretty good from what you knew about football, and walk over to his side of the fence. He stops when he sees you and starts leading you to his backyard. There was a goal net in the far back and some cones set up, probably to practice maneuvering the ball better. 

Jamie turns to see if you're still following him and drags you to a small table with two chairs near the door to the house. "You can stay here and count my goals," he instructs you and you nod your head in understanding.

While Jamie kicked around the football, you continued reading your book, occasionally looking up at what the boy was doing. It was easy to keep track of the score since Jamie would be cheering like he just won the Premier League when he scored. 

After getting bored of reading, you decide to ask Jamie to teach you how to play. You see his eyes light up and immediately drags you up from your seat. The first thing he teaches you is how to dribble the ball. He held your hands the whole time to stop you from falling over, but that only seems to make it harder for you to move around.

Once you finally got the hang of that, — meaning you no longer tripped over your own feet — the next few hours were then spent teaching you the other basics of football like passing and shooting. You only started to get decent at shooting when you realized that the sun was already setting.

"I think I have to go home now," You tell Jamie, whose expression suddenly fell at your statement. You go and grab your book from the table and wave at the boy. "It was nice playing with you!"

If he said anything in reply, you didn't hear it because you sprinted back around the fence and into your house. You take off your shoes, relieving the ache of kicking around the ball, and go to tell your parents everything you did that day.

—

The next time you see Jamie was Friday morning. He spotted you leaving your house for school and invited you to his team's football game that afternoon. "You just have to stay in school a little later. My mum said your mum might get worried, so she told me to tell you now so you can ask her."

You run back inside to do just that and after informing her that the other parents would be chaperoning the game, she agreed. You also take the chance to get your scarf and gloves because you hadn't realized how cold it was outside. She went out with you to tell Jamie the good news.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he replied, causing your mom to let out a chuckle at how polite the boy became. She finally sends you off to school and Jamie decides to walk with you too.

—

You couldn't help but be amazed at how well Jamie was playing. You knew that he was at least decent based on how well he taught you that day, but he was practically scoring all the goals for his team. None of the opposing players could even catch up to him, at times. You wonder how he kept his energy up despite the fact that it was freezing outside and he was only in shorts.

After the game, his team got hot chocolate to celebrate their win. You go to congratulate him, but find it hard due to the number of people surrounding them. Jamie was looking for you too, so the moment he spots you trying to make your way through the crowd, he heads to you instead and pulls you aside.

"Did you like the game?" was the first thing he says to you.

You immediately nod, "Yeah, it was really fun to watch! Congrats on winning."

Jamie shrugs, "Thanks, but it's really nothing, we've been on a streak for a while." You don't know if he's just being humble or bragging about his team, but either way, you're happy they're doing well.

Afterward, Jamie decides to bring you to meet his mom. She's quick to embrace you and mentions that Jamie's been talking about you non-stop, much to the boy's embarrassment. She hands you a hot chocolate of your own and you're grateful to be able to warm your hands. You lost one of the pair around lunchtime, so you've been keeping your hands in your jacket pocket the whole day.

While Jamie goes to change, you stay with Georgie as you savor your drink. She notices the lack of cover on your right hand and gives you an extra pair that she kept in her bag. It's clearly too big for you and its orange color clashes with the blue and white on your left hand but you're grateful regardless.

Soon after, Jamie's rushing out of the locker room looking cozy in a sweatshirt under his winter jacket. He's wearing gloves as well and when he notices your mismatched gloves, he takes one of his off and switches them with the orange one. 

They're a much better fit and you thank Jamie for it. The boy adds, "My hands are bigger, so they won't slip off as easily." 

"Come on, let's go home!" He adds, grabbing one of your hands with his left and his mom's with his right as you walk off the pitch.

After coming home, your mom notices your new glove and decides to bring some cookies for the neighbors as a thank you. That started a months-long gift exchange between the two moms for reasons ranging from watching over their kids on weekdays to lending their kids a pencil for a standardized test. 

You didn't really mind it though, because it usually meant you'd get to hang out with Jamie longer. You spent countless weekends riding your bikes around town, playing football, and even camping in your backyards. The boy who threw that ball over your fence was quickly becoming your best friend.

—

Age 15

“Aww, my little girl is so grown up, now!” Your mom exclaims as she opens the door to see you in a pink knee-length sundress. You don’t know why she’s so shocked you’re wearing it considering that she was the one who bought it for you. “Hmm, but do you think you need a necklace?”

“Mom!” You whine and she immediately backs off. It’s not like you minded the suggestion, but you had your own issues to deal with and didn’t need your parents to get involved.

When you said yes to Tim asking you on a date, you knew you’d be both excited and nervous. But you didn’t realize how insecure it would make you. Your parents say all the time that it’s normal for kids your age — being insecure about your looks and body, — but that advice never seemed to help. As your mom leaves the room, you turn back to the mirror and sigh. Something was just off. The dress was pretty, the shoes matched, and your mom did great with your hair, but even then, you still aren’t satisfied.

You weren’t as experienced with make-up and fashion as the other girls in your school and you had long since accepted that. You just didn’t realize it would backfire on you in times like these. You sigh sharply again. If Tim really liked you, it wouldn’t matter that much right? You add the necklace your mom was suggesting before heading downstairs.

After a string of ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from your parents, you start heading to the restaurant. Most popular restaurants among your schoolmates were walkable and you didn’t want an even more awkward introduction with your parents there, going there by yourself was the best plan. You had gotten there early, so you settled on the bench outside the restaurant to wait for your date.

Maybe around the first half hour, you should’ve suspected something was off. But you stayed for another hour in case Tim actually showed up. God, you shouldn’t have believed he was sincere. Why would someone ask you out? You always kept to yourself in class, spent most of your time studying, and never even tried to go to parties or anything.

You check your phone again because some hopeful part of you thought he’d text you with a valid excuse, but all you see are some messages from classmates asking for notes and a missed call from your mum. You were not ready to face your parents right now, not after the hopeful looks on their faces that their daughter might be sociable for a night.

Instead, you call the only other person you can. Jamie makes it to the place in record time and the first thing you do is hug him. The moment you make contact with his body is the moment you let the tears flow from your face. It didn’t really matter at that point if people were staring: you just needed someone. You needed Jamie.

“I’m gonna murder that prick,” Jamie threatens as he reciprocates the hug.

“Please don’t,” you whisper into his chest. “I can’t have you going to jail right now.” Despite trying your best to say it jokingly, your voice is too hoarse to properly convey it.

After what felt like hours in that position, you finally let go. You soon realize that your streaming tears had stained Jamie’s shirt. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

The boy looks down and just shrugs. “It was getting too small for me, anyway.” That’s enough to put a smile on your face.

The two of you get into the car – Georgie’s car, since technically, Jamie only had a provisional license – and start driving back to your house. Maybe it was your wrecked emotional state, but you decided to outright ask, “Jamie, do you find me attractive?”

You gasp as Jamie almost crashes the car. You quickly clarify as he steadies the vehicle, “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, I don’t really know how I look to guys.”

“Right, sorry.” He says but doesn’t look away from the road. “I mean, you are pretty. As long as you don’t let it get to your head.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off Jamie, I’m not you.” You could list the number of times Jamie’s flashed that cocky smirk to girls at school during breaks. Those were some of the very few times you were embarrassed to be seen with him and you laugh at the reminder. But your smile quickly disappears when you look down at your outfit. “Do you think other guys think I’m pretty?”

Your voice is as soft as it’s ever been, not wanting to show how insecure you’re feeling at the moment. But Jamie can tell like he always does. You turn the corner to your house and he stops the car in the road and fully turns to you.

“Fuck those other guys. Fine, if you need someone to say it, I will. You are fucking gorgeous, especially tonight.” You cringe at his words, not used to having anyone say that about you, but he gets you to look at him again. “I’m serious. And Tim’s a fucking idiot for ditching you.”

Despite his harsh tone, the soft look in his eyes as he tries to comfort you almost makes you tear up again. As if it’s become a routine, you reach over and envelop him in a hug once more. To make up for the failed date, the two of you spend the rest of the night eating a tub of Neopolitan ice cream and soon enough, you forget that Tim even existed.

—

Age 17

Your teachers always said you were a good writer. But no one ever told you how fucking difficult it was to start your personal statement. You'd never realized how hard it is to prove you should go to university until you forced yourself to sit down and actually try and write something. You started with the outline route, trying to note all your academic achievements, extracurriculars, and things like that before you ended up boring yourself.

You've written 9 possible starting lines at this point, and in the end, you decide to just shut your laptop in despair. Try again tomorrow, you said to yourself. The same thing you said yesterday and the day before that. 

You go to lie down on your bed when you hear something hit your window. It's a light clinking sound, and you ignore it till you hear another one. You finally decide to check outside your window and hear shouting from above.

"God?" you ask hesitantly.

"Nope, just me," you look up to find Jamie Tartt sitting on his rooftop, almost giving you a heart attack.

"Get down from there!" You tell him immediately and instantly cringe at how similar your tone is to your mom’s. Jamie rolls his eyes at the order but obliges anyway. He starts going down the roof into his bedroom — carrying an empty bottle of beer in his left hand — and makes it through his window.  Once he's safe with his feet on the floor, he turns around to face you in your adjacent bedroom.

"Why'd you even go up there?" you question and Jamie, like always, simply shrugs.

"Felt like it," you shake your head at his reasoning. You knew your best friend could be reckless, but you didn't think he'd do something as stupid as that, especially before scouting season.

"So falling off and breaking your legs wasn’t something you thought could possibly happen?"

"Well, that’s why I have you to warn me," He exclaims, before going back to the conversation. "I'm coming over."

Both your sets of parents were out for the night and they'd known each other long enough to trust each other's kids enough, so neither of you needed to message them about it. You watch him sprint out of his room and after a few minutes, you here the doorbell ring.

You head downstairs and open the door to find a panting Jamie leaning on the frame. "3 minutes, new record time."

"Well, they do say I'm one in a million." He jokes as you let him inside and he takes off his shoes.

"Who's they, in this situation?"

"Mum." He says blankly, collapsing on the couch. "And Simon."

You laugh, before lifting his legs and shuffling on the opposite side of the couch. You rest them on your lap for a second, before a wave of stench from his feet hits you and you shove them off. Jamie goes back to sitting upright and he instead leans his head on your shoulder.

You turn on the TV and start browsing for a movie as your entertainment for the night. Most weekends were like this; hanging out in one of your houses, ordering pizza — which Jamie did as you looked through channels, — and relaxing on the couch.

The order was placed and you settled on the Hunger Games this time. You watched the first part of the movie in silence as usual, but once the pizza arrived, Jamie decided to change things up.

"Wanna play 20 questions?" You look at him curiously. You knew practically everything about each other, so why on Earth would you play a game that's every person's go-to icebreaker?

You don't have a chance to protest because after taking a bite of the pizza, he asks, "What were you doing before I got here?"

Your eyes widened at that. Maybe the one thing you never really talked about with Jamie was your future. Neither one of you would admit it, but there wasn't any chance that you two were going to be doing the same things in your career. You had academia and Jamie had football. It's hard to imagine something that kept the two of you together and also made both of you happy, so you never brought it up.

"Uh, I was having a wank," you joke but Jamie isn't amused. He continues to stare at you with an expression that you rarely ever saw; he was being serious. "I was trying to write my personal statement."

 You look cautiously at your best friend who is quiet for the first time tonight. He takes a bite of his pizza again and with a full mouth, says, "And? How's it going?"

You groan and lean your head back. "Fucking terrible. I can't think of anything to say about myself."

"The fuck do you mean? You're like the smartest person I know." He points out and while you're touched he thinks that, you sigh.

"Unis don't just look at grades anymore. They want substance and worldly impact from their applicants. How the fuck am I supposed to change our societal landscape at fucking seventeen?" You admit, and it's like a weight has been lifted off of you. You drop your plate of pizza on the table and lean into Jamie's side.

"You want me to write it for you? I've got a bunch of great things to say about my best friend." He offers and you finally let out a laugh. "I can put how fucking amazing you are at Scrabble, how you can predict the ending of a movie in the first 20 minutes, how loud your voice can get when you cheer me on at a football game, and how you can hear a song once and already figure out how to play it on the piano."

You look up to find Jamie giving you a wide smile and his happiness is contagious. But that feeling is almost instantly replaced when you remember the position you two are in and feel your heart beating faster.

You don't ignore the fact that Jamie has grown up a lot more in recent years: finally passing you in height, having more defined arm muscles, and definitely growing into his features. It's harder to feel normal when you do the things you did as kids like when he rests his head or arms on your shoulders, pulls you into his chest to stop you from walking in front of a passing car, or just like right now when you're leaning into him, his arm pulls you closer to his body.

You slowly pull yourself away, but then he grabs hold of your hand instead. You've held hands before, but again, there's just something different about now. You decide to leave it there before finally replying, "I'm sure with that kind of stories in it, they'll let me into fucking Oxford." The two of you laugh before you grab your plate of pizza again and turn to back to the movie.

—

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You hear someone say, as you turn the corner to your school’s locker room.

It was normal to hear the players get nervous before the finals, but hearing Jamie Tartt panicking was a whole new thing for most of your classmates. Some league teams had sent scouts for the striker in this game and while everyone knew he’d do great, it seemed like the school’s support still wasn’t enough to convince him of that.

When his teammates couldn’t snap him out of it, their Plan B was to call you.

“Sorry, I’m looking for my best friend, Jamie Tartt. Brown hair, blue eyes, kind of conceited, but pretty nice if you get to know him.” You start out jokingly, but when his panicked eyes landed on yours, you quickly shift gears. “Shit, sorry. Not the time for jokes, I guess.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m off my game right now,” He starts, still trying to catch his breath as he moves around frantically. You take his hands into yours in order to steady him, but when that doesn’t work, you grab him by his shoulders.

Usually, Jamie would be towering over you, but with his slumped posture at the moment, you were almost eye-to-eye with the guy. “Jamie, take a deep breath. Focus on me, okay?”

You’ve gone through this enough times — usually with you in Jamie’s place — to know how to calm him down.

He follows your directions and you slowly nod your head. “Keep breathing, just do that for now.” Jamie closes his eyes and slowly starts to steady himself. Your hands move from his shoulders to his hands like you initially planned.

“I know it’s fucking terrifying, but believe me when I say that you are incredible. You know how you always tell me that I’ll smash it as Model UN conferences? This time, I’m the one telling you you’re gonna be the best fucking player out there.” You pause for a moment in case he reacts, but all Jamie does is nod his head. “I believe in you. Georgie and Simon believe in you. Hell, this entire school fucking believes in you. I swear, I saw people planning a chant for you outside.”

That gets the player to laugh and you smile, seeing a glimpse of his usual self. “Also, I know I’m complimenting you right now, but better savor it cause I’m never inflating your ego like this ever again.”

“Not even when I help Man City get another win in my first year?” Jamie finally speaks up.

“I’ll be complimenting Pep, not you.” You playfully roll your eyes. “But to be able to do that, you have to get out and play today.”

Jamie straightens up and starts shaking away the nerves. He turns to head to his team, but not before giving you a quick hug and a ‘thank you.’ Once he enters the locker room again, you start heading back to your seat.

—

Age 18

"Do you really want to do this?" Jamie asks carefully, but you've already made up your mind as you pull him closer.

You were going off to university in a few months and Jamie would be doing his summer training soon. Both his and your parents were out of town on a couple's retreat, so it was either now or never.

You knew that going off for college would increase the chances of your first time being with a random guy you met at a frat party infinitely, so you could say it was a calculated decision to jokingly ask Jamie when you talked about it if he'd be willing to sleep with you.

You didn't really expect anything and for the first few seconds, Jamie was too in shock to actually reply. You immediately tried to dismiss it as a joke, but before you could, he replied, "Sure."

You knew that Jamie had already had sex with girls before, — hearing him try and sneak the girls out of his bedroom window was always a fun story to bring up the next day — so you thought that it would just be another one for him.

But that night was the most delicate you've ever seen him. He didn't rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. He checked up on you constantly, making sure it didn't hurt and you were actually enjoying yourself. You made sure to hug him after, — not being able to say any words of gratitude out loud, — and you eventually went to sleep like that.

You woke up the morning after, still with him beside you, but after you got changed and he went back to his house, neither of you brought it up again. You went back to your old routine of hanging out in the afternoons and movie nights as if nothing even happened.

And it really was for the best, considering that the next time you had sex really was in a frat house’s bathroom.

—

Now, you were loading the last of your things into your car for your family road trip to Cardiff, which was to also move you into your dorm. Your mom was recounting the boxes, making sure you didn't forget anything because in her words, "We are not driving 3 and half hours twice just to bring you your toothbrush." Your dad was in the kitchen fixing up snacks for the trip, so you decide to take this chance and finally say goodbye to your best friend.

You barely saw Jamie in the weeks leading up to this since he spent most of his time at training. Even on weekends, he would be passed out in his room from the painstaking drills of the days prior. So as you knock on their door, you aren't very hopeful.

It reveals Simon who instantly pouts and brings you in for a hug. You always appreciated him for how he accepted Jamie into his life, despite the latter's fears that he'd be just like his father.

"Come inside," He offers, but you shake your head. You had to leave soon and you didn't want to delay the trip any longer. “Alright, but I was actually baking some muffins that you guys can take on your drive there, and you can’t say no to those.”

You laugh as you nod, before asking, "Is Georgie home?" 

Simon calls out to his wife to tell her that you're about to leave. You soon hear quick footsteps descending the stairs before you are once again enveloped in a hug. 

Simon heads out to presumably pack up those muffins, but you're too distracted by the rising feeling of sadness as you say goodbye to the woman whose practically been your second mother for a decade.

"You stay safe, okay? I know you'll enjoy your life there, but don't make your parents worry too much. Cause then they won't be able to stop talking about you," You laugh at her prediction before giving her one last hug.

Simon races back to you with a brown paper bag which he hands over, along with a pat on the back. You turn around to see if there's any sign of your best friend, but Georgie answers that for you. "He said he might be running late at practice." You feel your heart sink, but do your best to mask it. You wave goodbye to the couple before walking to the car.

You hand your dad the bag of muffins and sigh, "We can go." Your parents exchange a look but oblige nonetheless. You start heading into the car when you hear the call of your name.

You turn to see Jamie, still in his kit — shorts and all, — running towards your house. You decide to meet him halfway and once he's close enough, the football player pulls you into a tight hug, as if he's never letting go.

"Did you really think I'd let you leave without saying goodbye?" He whispered into your shoulder.

"If you're in trouble for leaving practice early, that is not on me." You try and keep it light-hearted, but his laugh only makes the pit in your stomach feel worse.

"Call me, okay? As often as you can. And send me pictures of all the stadiums you're playing in. I don't care if you send ten pictures of Etihad Stadium in a row, just do it. If you ever come to Cardiff, take some time off to see me. And," you try and think of more things to say, but Jamie cups your face in his hands to make you stop.

"I'll see you during the off-season, yeah?" Jamie's look is soft and you can feel the dam stopping your tears about to break.

"Don't you fucking forget me, Jamie." You try and say as angrily as you can, but your voice cracks as Jamie pulls you into another hug.

The two of you finally separate and you head off to your car. You stop yourself from looking back as you get into your seat. 

Jamie doesn't take his eyes off you, though. He watches as your car starts and turns the corner off your street.

A/N: hope you all enjoyed this one! if you couldn't tell, some of these flashbacks were based on the song 'it's nice to have a friend' by taylor swift which is what inspired this whole thing! see you next week for the official first chapter !!

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

Feeling a Little Blue - RK1K

(Read here on AO3)

Summary: Now that he and Markus are dating, Connor tells Hank what android dating looks like

-----

“So, let me get this straight. You’re dating now?”

“I am,” Connor said with a smile.

“And this boyfriend of yours is Markus? The deviant leader? The one we were supposed to track down?”

“That's the one,” came the enthusiastic reply.

Hank sat there, eyebrows raised, mouth agape, nodding slowly.

Connor didn't interrupt, wanting to let the other process it. Other people would be afraid over a reaction such as Hank’s but Connor couldn't help but smile. Thinking about Markus does that sort of thing.

A few seconds later and the lieutenant sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Jesus fucking Christ, I can't even say that's the weirdest thing I’ve heard out of your mouth.”

Maybe he would need a little push.

“We are very happy, if you're wondering.”

Hank looked up again, analyzing his face. “You really like him, do you?”

Connor furrowed. “Yes, of course, that's what I just said.”

Hank looked away again, expression going soft. Then his eyes wandered around the precinct, but nobody else was even near the break room right now.

He sighed again.

“Alright, tell me all about ‘android dating’.”

Connor’s smile grew wider. “I was hoping you’d ask that actually.”

He told Hank about lying next to each other, holding hands and going into standby-mode together. About interfacing, how you become one being for just a few seconds, feeling and seeing what the other has gone through, being able to send words unspoken. How close and safe it feels.

“Oh, and last week we went to the aquarium together!” Connor looked back at Hank, having briefly forgotten where he was and who he was talking to, so lost in the good memories they’ve built together.

Hank seemed amused, if his smirk was anything to go by. “Anything else?”

Connor hummed. “We go on walks together multiple times a week, exploring the city. Sometimes we just watch the other do stuff.”

“And what does that entail?” Hank had his head angled, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Well,” Connor’s eyes drifted, suddenly looking sheepish, “Markus is an amazing artist and great at the piano, if I dare say so.”

Hank leaned forward with a sparkle in his eyes. “And Markus?”

Connor’s eyes shot wide open. “What about Markus?”

“What does he watch you doing?”

Caught of guard, Connor was trying to pierce together an answer, not the easiest thing with a racing thirium pump.

“Fighting.”

Hank’s eyebrows went up. “Huh. Didn't take you for the MMA guy.”

Connor brought his hands up, shaking them in front of him. “It’s not like that! Just North and me-she’s a real firecracker, you know? Did I use that right? Doesn't matter- Point is that North and I like sparring from time to time or going to the shooting range.”

Hank slowly raised his head before letting it fall again. “Aha. And Markus is watching you guys doing that?”

“Yes! Yes, he does.” The smile from earlier returned. “One time he told me he wanted to paint me while I was shooting and wanted to hang up the painting because I looked ‘badass’.”

His cheeks gained a light blue hue. “And another time, we had a family visiting from Canada here and the little girl told us about her fox plushie that she lost. They left it in a motel, so I went to that motel and got it for her. Markus told me how much he loves how empathetic and caring I am.”

Connor’s smile widened, blue getting more saturated, hand going up to the back of his neck. “Sometimes, when it’s just the two of us, he likes to tell me that I’m precious.”

Hank leaned back, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, smirk still proudly present. “You into that stuff?”

Connor blinked, LED turning yellow with a little bit of red. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You into that stuff? Praise?”

The android's mouth opened, but no sound came out. On the other hand, the blue on his cheeks only grew stronger and more and more red appeared on the LED. “I have no idea what you mean, Lieutenant.”

The other one rolled his eyes, head going with the motion. “Come on, you know what I mean. Don't you think I’ve forgotten that case at the Eden Club. We both know you aren't as innocent as others might think.”

Connor’s shoulders came up, mouth forming a straight line, voice sounding strained, “This is no topic to be discussed at work.”

Hank shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing, you know? Pretty tame, actually. Vanilla, even.”

Connor took a deep breath, eyes up to the sky, but doing nothing at hiding the blue from his face and neck. “I swear, if I’m going to self-destruct because of you, you’ll be charged with murder and spend the rest of your life behind bars.”

He didn't even say anything as he walked away, probably to return to his desk.

Hank chuckled. “Maybe you should call Markus, ask him if he’ll be there when your shift is over.”

Connor paused. Hank couldn't see his expression, back still turned towards him, but the laugh was unmistakable.

“Hank. Fuck off.”

[underoossss]

What If’s -Miguel O’Hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers for across the spiderverse!!!! a couple of vampire jokes here and there. kissing, yearning, idk if those are warnings.

an: there’s no better character than miguel to write a wholesome hurt/comfort friends to lovers fic. this is my first time writing for him and I hope I did a good job lmao. let me know how I did!

★★★★

“I know I said I don’t mind your company.” Miguel’s voice reaches you from the platform he’s perched on in the middle of his lab. “But do you have to turn the volume up so loud?”

Your laugh echoes the room as you press a button twice to decrease the volume for a moment. “It helps me focus. Some of us have jobs aside from being a superhero you know.”

“Oh is saving the world not enough of a job for you?” Miguel’s eye-roll is clear in his tone and it makes you smile. “Perhaps you don’t know it but here we’re trying—”

“I know, I know, Twilight.” You wave him off over your shoulder. “What I mean is I like having a job, and I’m super smart so they let me work remotely.”

“All spider people are ‘super smart’ as you put it.” Miguel says, from somewhere behind you as you tap away on your laptop.

“Huh,” You fake surprise, then speak through a grin. “Here I thought I was the only one, good to know you’ve got a brain behind your broody eyes.”

Miguel’s breathy chuckle makes your heart jump, and you turn on your seat to catch the corner of his mouth lift in a half smile. Going back to the report you have to finish for your regular job, you turn the music up again and rest your feet on the desk in front of you. “I can feel you judging me, Twilight.”

“I am.” Miguel calls back to you and you smile.

There’s nothing that makes your body fill with warmth like Miguel. From being his most annoying spider recruit since the day you met —you saw he had fangs, and he never lived the vampire jokes down— your relationship has blossomed  into a beautiful friendship over time. The kind of friendship where everything is easy around each other, where you anticipate the other’s needs, and the kind that started with sharing trauma. Both of you’ve lost many people, and it’s probably the reason why you cling to the other as much as you do. You’re a stubborn tangle in his hair and he's as present in your life as the breeze that hits your face when you’re swinging through the city. You bring out the best in each other —regardless of you annoying him every single day— and this deep connection you seem to have is most likely the one responsible for the lines between friendship and love to be so blurred between you. You’ve fought by his side multiple times, and you love it, but there’s nothing you love more than these quiet moments with him, where you just exist near each other, and everything feels right. Though you love seeing him in action, more often than not getting distracted by his ruthlessness, strength, and skill, you love doing simple things with him too. Miguel showing up to your place when you’re cooking dinner and refusing to dance along with you; Miguel getting coffee with you after much insistence to leave his desk; Miguel sighing at your bad jokes which only makes you laugh more; Miguel staying over at your place, his presence a warm reassurance that you’re safe.

Insistent pinging takes your mind away from its memories, and you’re quick to set your work aside and swing to the platform to see what’s going on. Lila has appeared over Miguel’s shoulder and is gesturing at the many alarms popping up on the yellow screens. A canonic event has been interrupted, a black hole has opened under the city of Mumbattan on earth 50101,  Miles Morales —the Spider-Man Miguel’s been keeping tabs on for a while— is in that dimension for some reason, and there’s a multiverse-jumping anomaly on the loose.   

Miguel’s face darkens, a mix of worry, fury, and tiredness forcing his features down into a deep frown. He pinches the bridge of his nose before talking to Lyla as he flips through the screens. “Tell Jessica to go to Earth 50101 and bring backup with her. We need to contain that black hole.”

“On it.” Lyla disappears for a moment before she’s back by Miguel’s side. “What else?”

“Bring Miles Morales to me.” He says, setting his hands on the table in front of him and looking at the screen that show’s Miles stopping the canonic event. “It’s time we stop this mess at its source.”

“Miguel?” Your eyebrows shoot up at his words, worry settling on your chest. “What do you mean?”

Lyla disappears a moment later as Miguel’s monitors keep flipping through the events in Mumbattan. Alchemax blowing up as a result of the anomaly calling itself the Spot turning on the supercollider. The building collapsing on itself.

“You know what I mean.” The man in front of you furrows his brows in anger. “He’s become a threat since the moment he was bitten. It was never even supposed to happen, you can’t expect me to let him go on like this. To keep disregarding canon as much as he pleases.”

“You know I’ve always supported you, Miguel.” You take his hand in both of yours and squeeze it tightly. “I’m the one backing you up, winning everyone over when they get mad at you… But this is wrong.”

“It’s not.” He says, taking his hand back from you and clicking away on his computer. A moment later, moments in Miles Morales’ life float in the screens around you. “We have to stop him. He’s going to undo everything we do if not.”

“Miguel,” You furrow your brows at his words, then gesture towards him with your arms. “Listen to yourself, who’s more out of canon here, him or us? We weren’t bitten, that’s strike one; we can’t stick to walls, strike two; you don’t shoot webs and my senses aren’t heightened like everyone else’s. That’s strike three.”

It’s something that’s always intrigued you, but it’s never made you think of yourself or Miguel as less of a Spiderman than everyone else. That’s not what wearing the mask means; it means protecting those who can’t protect themselves. To be selfless and kind and self-sacrificing for the world, even if no one says thank you. If Miguel and yourself haven’t broken the multiverse just by existing, then why would Miles. If his world hasn’t collapsed then there’s nothing wrong with him being the superhero that he is.

Miguel ponders your words but shakes his head, still adamant to see things your way in this matter. “The kid–”

You take a step closer to him and cut him off before he can continue. “The kid was bitten, regardless of it being supposed to happen or not! He has lost someone dear already and has basically followed every other spiderman rule, Miguel. I don’t think he’s the reason this is happening.”

Your friend, the object of your affections, turns his back towards you, going back to his screens. They show the events of Mumbattan now, the way Miles saved the captain and the little girl from being crushed by falling debris. There’s also the black hole in the city, threatening the people they tried so hard to save. The hole is so similar to the Spot’s that you’re sure an analysis would prove it right. But Miguel isn’t seeing reason. “He is.”

“It’s the Spot’s fault!” You raise your voice, frustration getting the best of you more a moment before you take a deep breath. Trying to see things from his perspective, you place a hand on his upper arm, your voice falling down to a reassuring whisper. “I know you’re scared of the world collapsing again, but it won’t.”

Your heart falls when he shrugs your hand off and turns to look at you. The many screens around you dance across his features, and after inhaling deeply Miguel speaks again. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” You smile sadly, hoping that your confidence in him will let him see what’s right under his nose. “I know it because this time you’re here, Miguel, guiding us and making sure it doesn’t happen again. You just need to see that Miles isn’t the problem.”

“Everything started with him.” Miguel argues, his voice emphasizing the word everything, definite on his theory. His eyes are full of resentment, not towards you, but towards the situation. Days and nights of working himself thin in this office, weighing on his broad shoulders.

Your squeeze your eyes shut before you look at him again. He’s so blinded by his own past mistakes; he thinks Miles will repeat them. When you speak again your voice is soft despite your irritation. “Miguel, you know in your heart it didn’t, and I know that because we’re the same.”

He exhales and looks into your eyes; they soften only slightly as they lock with yours. You try to urge him once again to forget this theory for a moment and see things differently if only for a second. He needs to know you don’t think it has to come to this –an attack towards the young spiderman– and that you won’t be a part of it if it does.  

“If I feel it, then you must feel it too.” Though you’re talking about his plans for the young spiderman, the underlying topic of your feelings for him are clear as day in the way you look at him. You let your guard down, and say barely above a whisper, “Please. You know I can’t follow you, not this time.”

His eyes look aways from you as his shoulders tense, a clear sign of all the walls you’d crumbled building back up. “You want me to risk everything, including you, over a what-if?”

“Everything’s a what-if, Miguel.” You smile sadly at him, then set your shoulders straight as you step away from the platform and from him. “But I guess that settles that.”

Miguel takes two steps and catches up to you before he reaches for your hand. There’s a tightness around his brown eyes from the way you’re looking at him tearfully. They shift to confusion a moment later, when his hand moves upwards towards your wrist and you grin. Taking another step back, you hold your watch on your opposite hand, showing him that you knew he’d try to take it from you. You know him better than he gives you credit for.

“I’ll see you when you’ve changed your mind, Twilight.” You fiddle with your watch until a portal opens and when it does, you throw the device back at him. Though your throat is tight, emotion concentrating there as tears sting your eyes, you keep yourself from crying. “Otherwise… I guess this is goodbye.”

Not bearing to look into the new despair in his eyes, you turn around and walk into your dimension without looking back. When the portal closes behind you, you’re back in your apartment, the room dark around you safe for the lamp you forgot to turn off in the morning. Every corner you look at you see Miguel’s lingering shadow; the wall he always leaned against when you talked in the kitchen, the couch where the two of you always hung out –your legs over his lap and your laptop over yours as he waited for you to finish working. You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping for some comfort to come from it.

Hoping this mess can be fixed.

It is only a day later when the first step towards it being resolved, happens. You’ve been swinging through the city, patrolling different neighborhoods and keeping an eye out for any anomalies. Without your watch you’ve been disconnected from the Spider Society. Most importantly from Miguel, and although you try to, you can’t help but wonder what’s happening back in the HQ. You've barely been to your apartment since your fight with Miguel, your heart feels like a fading bruise –not quite broken but yearning painfully– and the last thing you want to do is spend time somewhere that will bring his memory back to you. So quick stops to shower, work, and eat, in between patrols are all you’ve allowed yourself. You’re swinging to one of these stops, when you spot a lonely figure standing in your balcony.

Even from afar you know its him, no one else has his shoulder-to-waist ratio, and no one else makes your heart skip quite like he does. Despite being vexed from your last conversation, you feel his heart call out to yours, and the way his eyes rise to see you swing towards the balcony are all the confirmation that you need that your assumptions were right. He would come around eventually, you knew it, you never thought it would be this fast though. What have you done now, Miguel?

You land on the balcony next to him, nod towards your door so he can follow you inside. Once the door closes behind you, you take your mask off and Miguel’s vanishes too. There’s no awkwardness as you stand in front of each other in the middle of the living room, only silence in an otherwise joyful room. The lights are still off in your apartment but you don’t move to turn them on, instead you shrug and motion towards the balcony.

“Nice timing.” You say, trying to keep your voice light. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you’d see me when I changed my mind.” His voice is low, like he’s worried the moment will shatter if he speaks any louder.

“You did?” Your question is followed by a step closer to him, but a frown appears on your face. “What changed it?”

“I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” He whispers, brows furrowed together creating a deep crease between them. His eyes won’t meet yours but from the city lights outside your apartment, and the glow from his suit, you can see the deep regret in them, and the embarrassment from admitting his wrongs. “Then made a mess out of everything.”

“Miguel–”

“You can say I told you so, because you were right.” He turns to you, bringing his hand to hold your cheek briefly before he sighs and walks away, closer to the balcony’s window.

“What happened?” You follow him, standing next to him. Part of you is afraid he’s going to leave the same way he arrived, and panic settles on your chest. You urge him to keep talking though, you won’t give him a chance to shut down this time. “What happened with Miles?”

“The Spot’s stronger than before and going to Miles’ dimension to destroy it and then possibly many others.” Miguel clenches his hands into fists, the muscles around his neck tensing, the stress and worry in them is clear for you to see. “But he’s not there, because of me.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, a mannerism you’ve gotten from the man next to you. Of course he scared the kid off; you love this man more than anything, but he really needs to work on his first impressions. “Where is he? How can we find him?”

“I have an idea; I think his friends do too.” Miguel starts, then shakes his head, some strands of hair falling over his forehead. “Maybe the dimension of the spider that bit him is a good place to start.”

“Then we find him, Miguel.” You move to stand in front of him, your back to the window and the city, all your focus on him. “We find him, we bring him home, and we defeat the Spot.”

He nods almost imperceptibly his gaze in the distant glimmering buildings, his handsome yet tired features washed in light blue and purple light. You know he can feel your gaze on him, burning a hole on his face but his eyes won’t look away from the window. When he doesn’t give in a moment later, you bring both of your hands to his face. Half expecting him to move away, you’re surprised when he lets you, and a small breath escapes him at the contact.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You whisper, your thumbs moving softly over his cheekbones. “Everything will be alright; we can fix it.”

“I almost lost everything by trying to prevent it from happening again.” He confesses, eyes full of torment when they finally meet yours. They glisten in the light, worry and despair making his icy layers melt for you too see him clearly. It’s enough to make you tear up. When you try to say something, he cuts you off as if knowing what you’re about to say. “I almost lost you.”

You shake your head fervently. “You were never going to lose me, we’re best friends I don’t think we’re capable of losing each other.”

“We’re more than that.” He says, voice gentle as he takes your hands from his face and holds them in his, they dwarf yours in size. “I feel it too and I’m sorry if it’s too late.” His words echo back to your last conversation, and it makes your stomach flip. Finally, after so much time, your feelings are bare in front of each other. Precious jewels you would never trust to anyone else, both broken, both put back together, and perfect for the other.

“It’s not.” You shake your head and let go of his hands, moving them instead to rest on his shoulders. A smile makes its way to your face, and the way Miguel’s lips move to mirror it makes your heart soar.

A moment later his head is tipping downwards as you step on the tip of your toes to kiss him. It’s an electric moment, a canonic event itself with the way all the pieces seem to fall into place. You move your arms around Miguel’s shoulders and hitch yourself higher to wrap your legs around his waist. His approval is hummed into your mouth as his lips move ardently against yours. One of his arms goes around your waist while the other moves up your back to bury his hand in your hair, tipping your face in the perfect angle to kiss you into a blissful state. Your sighs are unstoppable and he’s more than happy to catch them with his lips as your hands move to his hair. This is all you’ve wanted, to have him completely, for the two of you to accept the feelings that have always been there.

Eventually your passionate kiss simmers down to something slower, calmer. Miguel’s lips brush yours softly; barely-there kisses that move to the corner of your mouth, your cheek and along your jaw. His voice is rough when he whispers against your lips in a gentleness he rarely shows, “I love you, I always have.”

“I love you, you broody, cheap Twilight vampire wannabe.” You murmur, brushing your nose against his as he chuckles under his breath, before he sets you down. “We should go.”

“Only if you want to.” Miguel tells you, holding out your watch on the palm of his hand.

You take it from him and put it on with a smile. “Please, you’d be lost without me.”

His hand cups your cheek for a moment, a soft smile just for you on his face as he says, voice low. “Right again.”

In front of you a new portal appears, back to Miguel’s office to round everybody up. The future might still be up in the air, and there might be many battles ahead before this multiversal conflict is solved. But one thing you know for sure is that with the right team, the impossible can happen. You’re sure Miles’ team has his back, but a little backup wouldn’t hurt them, would it?

You take Miguel’s hand and squeeze it in yours before walking backwards to the portal. “Come on Twilight, let’s help the kids save the world.”

[800tz]

⊱━◠━╭♡✷♤𖥔♢*♧ ♚ ♧*♢𖥔♤✷♡╮━◠━⊰

⊱━◠━╭♡✷♤𖥔♢*♧ ♚ ♧*♢𖥔♤✷♡╮━◠━⊰

𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: when a girls trip to japan crashes to an unexpected halt, and the world seems to go silent, that is when true human,primal instincts come to the surface.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: long, potential multiple parter. Smut, I have not read the manga, so if this sounds unfamiliar or not well put together my apologies, I'll try my best with what I know, smoking, cursing, over all a bit vulgar.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: y'all know the drill but just to keep us fresh, F/N- friends name, if you don't smoke...You do now. Enjoy this story and please, write more about Kyuma! This is an urgent call to action for all fanfiction writers, he's perfect and we've got work to do y'all 💋

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"Which one looks better, the black? Or the red?" F/N grasps one in each manicured hand, a strapless, tight, skimpy black dress, hangs on the left. And on the right a dark red dress, not as tight as the black one but potentially more revealing, gold eyelets held red ribbons on each side, and low cut down the front forming a tasteful V. I gaze at the scandalous numbers, as I have countless times before, but this time is different.

You see, F/N and I have been inseparable since middle school, she's been my ride or die since the day we met. We do everything together, and we always will. So when one of us said one day while we sat on the couch, drowning in crumbs and shitty reality TV, "lets fly to Japan" we left that same day.

So here we are, in a hotel room worth my entire college fund, but who could complain when you're young, beautiful, and dressed to the nines for a day in the city.

"The black one for sure, it matches your silver jewelry" She drops the red dress as soon as the letter B left my gloss coated lips, "What should we do first? We look so good that I kinda just want to head straight to the club".

I giggle while arranging my hair, glancing towards the bright sunlight shining through the hotel drapes, "Girl it's daytime the clubs are not open yet".

As I zip up the back of her dress, I see myself in the reflection of the window. We look like models, dropdead gorgeous, something in the back of my head tells me that one, if not both of us could get lucky tonight!

"I kinda wanna get some food" I hum in agreement, and with that the two of us take a seat on our shared bed. "What are you hungry for?" I lay my body across the bed, taking in the weightless feeling, mentally preparing for a long day in heels.

"Sweet or savoury?" she rolls her head to face mine, We lock eyes, waiting for an answer from either side. "Hmmmm spicy". Her brows raise, "right now? That'll make my nose run".

I exhale the smoke from my nose, nodding at her statement. The silence envelopes the room, thats when she speaks "noodles?" I inhale deeply. The idea swirls in my head like the smoke in the air above me "hmm, keep that one in mind".

As the smoke weaves through the beams of sunlight, I smile to myself. We would always dream of traveling the world together, seeing everything, doing everything, and feeling everything. And now we're here, with so many memories of the places we've been, and so many more memories to make.

"Why don't we just go on a walk?" she rolls to her side, propping her head up with a sturdy arm. We smile at each other, already knowing the answer.

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"See anything good?" I mutter, the sound of children yelling, teens gossiping, and shoes slapping the ground all around me almost makes it hard to hear the person next to you. "Oooo, what about that" she nods her head to a small homey place near by.

The menu had a variety of dishes but I was down the second I saw spicy chicken. "So, what's the plan for today?" I set my purse down on the leather cushion of the booth, we sat by the window, eying the people who pass by.

"I think we should eat, then stop back at the hotel to fix our makeup or hair, whatever needs to be fixed, then we hit the club", she hums into the straw in agreement. "Which club?" she winces as the sting of alcohol numbs her gums.

I take a long sip from my glass, my eyes trail outside the window, past the crowds to a small venue named

'The House of Cards'

"There"

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"How are you so lucky?" F/N eyes me up and down. I guess I chose the spot. We stood in the front of a winding river of people, all buzzing with excitement for whatever awaits inside. "F/N I don't know.... This place is gonna be packed".

The doors open, and we entered wonderland. Lights and colors swam across the room, smoke swirls through the room like an oil spill and what was most appealing, there would be live music. The instruments sat idle on the stage, waiting to blow our eardrums to bits.

"I need a smoke" the words left my mouth like a swear, I'd been a smoker for years, and yes I know the side affects and yes I know it could one day kill me, but so could your boyfriend, your car, the stranger beside you on the street, so what makes it any different?

I exit through the side door to a small section for fellow smokers. I'm very specific about who knows about my habits though, I don't like to share.

I take a drag, gazing at the dazzling city lights, it's so gorgeous I almost forgot where I was. The door to the venue shoots open, a familiar head of hair swings from behind the door, "They're on!" she exclaims.

I hurried to the door, huffing the last bits of smoke from my lungs. She drags me to the balcony, most of the people were all lumped at the edge of the stage, but F/N always knew where to be to get a decent view.

And there we stood, we leaned on the railing as the lights went dark. A wave of cheers bellows through the crowd, and I couldn't help but join in. That's when a sudden spotlight shown down onto the middle of the stage. A logo hung bright at us.

'The Sology'

We eyed each other expectantly, eyebrows raised in curiosity, "nice logo" I whispererd into her ear but before she could even reply, the lights beamed bright, and there the five stood.

The crowd went wild, and I'm not shy to admit so did I, the crowd certainly made me feel hyped up for this show, even if I'd never heard the bands music, nor heard of them, I'm eager nonetheless to learn what the hype is about.

From above I could see the five of them clearly, a woman with short curly hair, three men one with short hair, one with long hair, one with an emo sort of look to him, and then there was the lead. He stood in center, shades and a baggy outfit, very intriguing to say the least.

They began to sing, the music sank beneath my skin and into my bones, my body moved to the sound. I couldn't see, or feel anything besides the music as it puppeteered my body into the shapes of pure euphoria.

I opened my eyes and just as luck would have it, a pair stared back up at me, dangerous like a panther, the eyes watched me with lust, hunger, intent.

I gaze deeper, harder, hungrier, I'm not one to bluff, and he can feel it. So he looks away, and I keep on dancing. While I dance, I can feel eyes on me, but I keep mine shut, I like being a tease sometimes.

The set ends with roaring from the crowd, I on the other hand can't yell at this point, I'm out of breath and in desperate need for fresh air.

"I need a smoke, you coming with me?" I ask between huffs, she gathers her breaths before speaking, "I'll get us drinks then I'll meet you outside", we nod in unison, and head down from the balcony.

𝐊𝐲𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

I toss my head back, soaking in the glory of the stage, but my mind lingers. She was like an angel, her eyes, there's something behind them. She stood upon the edge of the balcony, like Rapunzel in her tower.

I had been watching, the way her body moves, the way her lips mouthed the words, the way her eyes stared into mine told me, that I was intrigued, and that she was as well.

We stepped back stage, raving about our show, complimenting each other on our work as a team. "Now now, I want to stay for a while, who's with me?" I stood, putting my hand up above my head.

"I saw some ladies in the front row so, hell yeah I'll stay!" , Gokens hand shot up, you could almost see him drooling. I wasn't one to sink my teeth into the sweetmeat of my fanbase, I've dabbled on occasion of course but far from as often as Goken and-

"Same here, this goth beauty by the bar was eyeing me" Shitaras arm rose slowly, as the words left his lips Uta scoffs, "I'll stay, but it's to keep the lady's safe" she snaps the instrument box close with a soft click.

"She was looking at me Shitara" Maki smirks at him, and I know those two believe it, they've got the same type, they always have and always will. "Hell nah man she was totally looking at me" Shitara grins, "how about we find out" Maki raises his hand.

"That settles it, we'll stay, whoever is least drunk by the end of tonight drives" my statement brings a groan from my bandmates.

I'd seen her go to the smokers section, so there I went, I made my way through the crowd of fans, they writhed and wriggled in my presence. Screaming at the top of their lungs, reaching for me, but not her, and that's what drew me in.

The door opened, lights hung from the gates, and there she sat, alone. Smoke trailing from her lips like a dragon, our eyes met, and dare I say she was expecting me.

I made my way towards her, I place myself at a tasteful distance, not too far, but not too close. I gazed at her, one leg hung over the other, one hand on her knee, the other with a cigarette to her supple lips.

"Want one?" she locks eyes with me, holding the cigarette between us, I shake my head "I don't smoke, but thank you" she nods, looking into the distance.

"So, you've been watching me", she eyes me up and down, taking a long drag. It's attractive, the way she speaks to me, she's not shy or afraid.

"I have been, but so have you" When we lock eyes it feels as if we're in the middle of a stand off, she looks at me as if she's waiting for me to pounce, to come closer, to touch her, to-

"My name is Y/N", she smiles. I chuckle at her forwardness, "Kyuma" I state, keeping an eye on her lips as they seal tightly around the cigarette.

"I know" she keeps that grin on her face, letting the smoke exit through her nose slowly. Usually, when I do occasionally hookup with a fan, they are shy, way too starstruck to even speak, but not this one.

"So what brings you to Japan?", by this point it had been maybe, five minutes, ten, twenty? Time doesn't exist when we speak, it's rare to find an individual like that, but all the more enticing.

"Well, my friend-"

heels clicked in our direction, and there said friend stood, holding two drinks. "Here" she hands Y/N the fridged glass, and from behind, a man grabs her waist and scoops her to a nearby seat.

She looks at the man with suspicious eyes, the sign of a loyal friend, what I value most about a person. "Anyways, we kind of just decided to come, I mean we were both bored so.. Why not?"

She moves closer to me, as do I. "What about you? What brought you to this venue huh?" she leans closer, and the energy in the air thickens. I keep my composure along with eye contact, not willing to lose the stand off between us.

"I never pass up an opportunity for good show, and it's not every day I meet someone so beautiful, such as yourself" her leg drapes over mine as the words leave my lips, "Such as myself?" her smile widens.

Her eyes could drown a man, like pools of wisdom that I could soak in for hours. "You know what I think?" she leans closer than ever, so close I could almost taste her.

"I think you say that to every girl." she said it like it was a dare, "And what makes you think that?" with that she laughed, it was gutteral, practically head turning.

"You're like, a lead singer, you could have every single thing in there if you wanted it, you don't need to think about what to say" her eyes narrow, she eyes me through her lashes.

"Want to know what I think?"

She locks eyes with me once more, the tension is undeniably sexual. As the glass leaves her lips, she nods. I grasp her thigh, dragging my hand across her skin.

"I think you should stop making assumptions, I think you think you know everything" she chuckles, bringing her face close to mine.

"So prove it, teach me something new"

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Her hands tangle themselves in my hair, our teeth clashed together, I couldn't get enough even if there were ten of her. Our lips chased each other, moving with sensual rhythm. My hands trace her body like a sculpture.

I feel her moans shake through me, her lipstick stain mine her shade of love as she sucks on my tongue. She pulls away to look at me, and when she does, the image will be remembered for years to come.

Her hair is messy, her lips swollen, her eyes low with lust, absolutely breathtaking. I reach down to the seam of my shirt, lifting it over my head.

Her hands meet my torso, she leaves lipstick stains all over my body, she makes her way lower, trailing kisses down my abdomen.

She keeps her eyes locked on mine, the sight makes me twich, her hands reach my belt. I undo my pants, sliding them off with ease and tossing them to the other side of my dressing room.

I stood in my boxers, as she sat on her knees in front of me, eyes locked on mine. My cock throbbed against the fabric, ready to feel the warmth of her mouth.

That's when she places her hands on the top of my boxers, she sucks hard on my skin, leaving marks and bites wherever she pleases.

Sounds of pleasure leave my mouth, but still, her eyes are glued to mine, and I'd be mad to look away. She comes to full height turning to let me unzip her dress, and that I do.

Slowly, the zipper trails down her back, I sink my teeth into her shoulder, leaving my mark on her. She whines, throwing her head back onto my chest.

The dress melts from her body, I take her breasts into my hands softly as I kiss her neck. Twisting and turning her nipples while she moans breathlessly.

She turns to face me and drops to her knees, she slides my shorts off. My cock springs straight up from it's fabric cage, she brings it to her glossed lips.

She spits in her hand, dragging it up and down my length, she eyes me with that damn teasing smile, holding my tip to her lips. I groan, taking a mental picture of her in my head.

She takes me in, all the way in, like it was nothing. I almost lose myself, I grasp her hair into my hand to steady myself. And of course she looks up at me with those eyes, she can tell what she's doing to me. And it's driving me crazy.

She plays with me, teasing me with each trick she preforms, I grip her hair tightly, not letting her go from my grasp. I feel myself about to fall over the edge of ecstasy so I pull her away.

She kisses up my body, once she reaches my lips I take her. Kissing her with as much force as possible, tasting myself still on her lips. I sit her down on the desk, it was now my turn.

Kneeling in front of her. I take her leg into my hand, kissing up towards her thigh her soft moans fill my ears, and it's more spectacular than any instrument in this plane of existence.

Love bites trail up her thighs, she spreads her legs, and I can practically feel the heat radiating from her center. I kiss over the fabric, I can taste her through the lace.

Her breaths are heavy, and the way her chest rises and falls, the way her moans exit those pretty lips is like magic, I can't stop, and I'd be crazy if I did.

I move her panties aside, and I put my lips on her, tasting her, feeling her. Her thighs tighten around my head, and my hair finds itself entangled between her fingers.

"Kyuma fuck" my name leaves her lips like a prayer, begging me to devour her, and that I will. I hum against her clit, placing my fingers at her entrance.

I plunge my fingers deep, she gasps closing her eyes with pleasure. I find that sweet spot inside of her, the one that drives her as crazy as she drives me.

She cries my name out, over and over again. With my other hand I stroke my cock, precum drips from my tip and onto my hand. I feel her hand on my cheek, she pulls my face up to meet hers.

She kisses me, with hunger like a scorn jungle cat, starved for weeks. By this point it's too hard to hold back, "I want it" she looks up at me through her lashes. I don't think I've been this eager in a long time.

She fucks like it's the last time she ever will.

"As you wish" I arrange myself at her entrance, standing at full height. Her body is an oasis, a place I want to experience to the fullest extent, a place I'd like to stay.

I slide in slowly, savoring the feeling, the sight of her. She keeps her eyes on mine, like a staring contest that never ends. And I don't want it to.

I push deeper, reveling in the heat of her insides. Her hands feather across my face, as I thrust, slowly, she wraps her arms around my neck, holding me close but never close enough.

"Y/N- fuck" I choke out, her lips meet mine once again, she sinks her teeth into my bottom lip, keeping me hypnotized.

I began to pick up the pace, ramming my cock deep into her, I like seeing her face change with each movement. I like the way her mouth looks when she cries my name out, I like the way she always keeps her eyes locked on mine, and I love how she looks when she's about to cum.

Her grip on me went from my face to my hair, tugging at it, she didn't want me to stop, and I never would.

She bites my shoulder, sending shock waves of euphoria through me, I twitch, close to the edge, waiting for her to break before me.

"Kyuma" the sounds of bliss come from deep within her, she tightens around me, I thrust, deep, not leaving her, I couldn't.

I thrust with my full strength, giving her everything I can, I spill out inside of her. And still, she keeps her eyes locked on mine.

I keep my rhythm, deep and slow, I want to savor this, savor her. I hold her face in my hands, watching her come down from cloud nine. As our moment of ecstasy comes to an end, I plant a kiss on her lips.

We seperate for the first time in thirty minutes, taking the time to get ourselves decent. She sits at the vanity, fixing her makeup and hair.

The words pull at my lips anxiously, as I watch her, the images I've painted in my brain dance around in my skull. I don't want to end it here.

"How long will you be here for?" the words left me too quick, I had the cadence of a seventeen year old boy, itching for first base, though I'm yards away from base one.

"One more week" her newly glossed lips are like eye candy to me, the way her sly smile itches to come out after each letter.

"I feel a connection between us, I'd like to see you again" I make my way over to her, she eyes my reflection. I place my hands on her soft shoulders. "What?" her face drops, she looks almost surprised.

"I would like to see you again" I look at her through the mirror, her face was like that of an angel, gazing upon me. But she kept quiet, her lips parted slightly.

"I'll give you my number, if you would like to take me up on my offer" I grab a pen from the table, scribbling my number along with a heart for her, I want it to be her choice.

She smiles, looking down at her marked thighs. I hand the paper to her, planting a kiss on her pretty head. She gasps suddenly turning her head towards me.

"What time is it?!" I look up at the clock, "12:00". The sound of her jumping to her feet causes me to turn, she makes her way to the door.

"Fuck where's F/N" she mutters as she inches closer and closer to the door. I grasp her waist, she steps closer. "Will I see you again?" she smiles.

"I don't know" she laughs, and just like that, she's gone. What a tease. But if I didn't love it, what kind of man would I be?

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𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

I made my way out of the room, rushing past security and around fifty groupies. My eyes scan the room, searching for my best friend and there she was.

Waving me over to the seat she saved at the bar. "So, how's the luckiest girl in the world doing?" she nudges my arm with her elbow, "fine, and you?". She giggles, mentioning a minor make out sesh with the guy from earlier.

"I'm tired, I think we should head back" yawning, I come to my feet. Out we go, back to the hotel. As the cool night air takes us, I grin, knowing I had an Adonis number in my purse.

But for now, Adonis would have to wait. We reach our room, she knocks out, I on the other hand hop in the shower. The warm water stings against my marked skin.

The water melts the cool club sweat from my body, prepping me for my deep slumber.

The bed swallows me whole, pulling me under the surface, and into the sleepy depths.

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The sun shines through my eyelids, "fuck" a sharp breath exits my mouth, but I'm too awake to fall asleep now. I sit myself up on the headboard, rubbing my closed eyes. "F/N..F/N what time is it?" I grumble.

....

...

..

.

No answer, not too odd, she's probably out like a light. I look down at the white comforter, "F/N" I sigh and turn to face her..

But she's not there, I walk to the bathroom, still no sign of her. Her stuff is still strung around, but it's like she just disappeared.

I stand at the window, taking in the sky, the buildings, but theres no people, absolutely barren.

I panic, rushing to the elevator, but it doesn't work. "What is this" I look around at the dark hallways. No lights, no elevator, no F/N, what happened?

I rush down the stairwell and into the empty lobby. Where the hell is everyone? I try my phone but once again, nothing.

The doors of the hotel slam open, and I stand in the middle of a once densely populated street, now desolate.

Now it's just me

Just me.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭:𝟏

Let me know if you want a part two, I hope this was good I came out of my blinker dungeon for this 💋

[witch-hazels-musings]

familiar 

Warning -> comfort, SFW - sick fic! (reader is sick: aches and pains, sore throat, general sick descriptions | reader passes out | reader is carried | reader is taken to an unfamiliar location and wakes up a bit disoriented but is safe | Childe: reader is threatened but unharmed, fingers get cut off of random person)

Includes: Childe, Diluc, Thoma

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Your skin was burning. You breathed and the air felt like fire as it passed across your chapped, dry lips. Someone called your name and you turned, lifted yourself from a hunched position to look only for the action to make your head swim.

You smiled anyway.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The patron near the counter slid something toward you. What was it? You blinked and realized there were several items in a basket. You swore they multiplied as you pulled them out one by one. The transaction was the slowest you'd completed in your life but it wasn't the last as several more people stepped in line. You felt a bead of sweat run down your spine.

You smiled and greeted them.

--

Your head throbbed. Parts of your body you rarely thought about ached, cried out in pain as you rose from the chair.

Finally, you could go home. Could rest.

Unsteady, the world teetering as you made your way toward the door, you caught your breath near the entrance only to realize you'd left your bag and the shop key in the back office.

Coughing, you tried to clear your throat and push through the waves of disorientation as you meandered back down the hall. You labored in the doorway with ragged breaths trying to remember what you went back here for. Pressing your forehead against the trembling and clammy hand that held onto the door frame, you tried to focus.

"What did I ..." you mumbled, scanning the room. A flash of flickering light from outside caught your attention. Pushing forward you grabbed the key and made your way to the front door.

The outside air felt as refreshing as drinking a cold glass of water on a hot day. You gasped at the way it caressed your skin, at the way it soaked into the mist that speckled your brow, that clung to the edges of your hairline. You breathed deeply, welcoming the strain of your lungs before an inevitable cough tore you from the reprieve. You crumbled, caught your breath, then, with multiple uncoordinated attempts, locked the front door.

It was hard to concentrate, but you let your muscle memory carry you through the streets. You did your best to smile and keep a safe distance from those you passed, though most people didn't seem to notice you, even when you staggered and caught yourself on a beam for support.

I just have to get home, you told yourself. Eyes blurry, head swirling and disorganized. The stack of crates next to you served as a useful crutch. You did your best to catch your quickening breaths against them. All you wanted to do was sleep.

You made it through the day like this, what was a few more minutes?

A surge of strength rose in you as you pushed away from the pile of crates but as soon as you took a step your legs crumbled and you fell into a heap at the edge of the street. Your hands burned from the violent contact of the sharp, frozen ground. Puffs of steam exploded from your mouth as you struggled to take in as much air as you exhaled.

You swore you heard your name but when you turned your head to look, the world went dark.

--

Childe

His smile faded as soon as they left his office. The click of the door was the switch he needed to flip the mask he was so good at wearing. Just like he had learned - like a good boy.

He wiped his face with the palm of his hand and rose from his chair. At least they gave him a window - though perhaps it was more of a tease than a gift. A reminder that he was trapped in a room with suffocating walls. Like a caged animal, whose only desire was to feel the soil beneath their feet.

He hated when they made him do this work. Even if it was a pain, he'd rather be out in the field training new recruits than sitting in this stifling room signing off on peoples debts they'd never repay.

Childe sighed and leaned against the window. He scanned the passersby, hoping, wishing one of them would give him an excuse to leave this cramped office. Though, it was unlikely - Liyue rarely had anything fun. He missed the days before the Archon fell. At least then he had toys to play with.

A knock rattled his thoughts, "We've got three more for you, sir."

"Tell them to come back tomorrow," Childe called without looking at the massive and decorated door.

"I'll be sending in the next one shortly," they replied, clearly ignoring him. He rolled his eyes and looked back down to the street. In the corner, just out of view, he saw someone stumble through a back alley. He would have passed it off as a drunk if there wasn't an air of familiarity to the figure.

Childe pinched his brow as drifting voices spilled in from the hall.

He turned to head back at his desk but gave one last look to the alleyway and saw a small group taking the same path the stumbling person just walked.

"Childe will see you now," the voice said as they opened the door to Childe's office, head bowed and eyes closed as their arm escorted them inside.

"Um - who will?"

The voice snapped their eyes open to see an empty office with an open window and billowing curtains. "damn-it", they cursed and ran down the hallway.

-

Childe stayed in the shadows. Curiosity leading the way as he stalked the group. Further down the alley something crashed onto the stone ground but he had a hard time making out what it was. The group turned a corner and he could hear their voices echo off the tight buildings. He leapt onto a nearby walk-way hoping to get a good view of whatever was about to happen below, but when he saw who they were stalking their way toward, he finally understood why his body leapt out the window on its own.

Rage filled him as he launched forward so he could land between your gasping body and the oncoming group.

"What did I tell you guys? Easy pickins -- woah!" The group raised their hands as a wave of water splashed against them. They all stumbled, but one fell to the ground. "What the-"

"I suggest you leave."

"Huh?!" The one in the middle stepped forward, clothes soaked, hands fumbling for a knife. "T-this was ours first. So b-back off," he tried to puff out his chest but looked more like a drenched toad than anything to be frightened of. It would have made Childe laugh it he weren't currently seething, and if he hadn't looked back to see you shaking, terrified as you barely held yourself off the ground.

"If you're looking for a fight, I'll happily provide you one," Childe threatened, his blades appearing in his hands and sending out a high pitch whine as they danced in his grip, "See I've been cooped up all day and could really use a good workout."

"H-hey man, let's just go," one of them quivered, grabbing the 'leaders' arm.

"No, this is ours - we need thi-" the leaders voice died out as a slash of water cut through the fingers that had managed to grip his feeble knife in the first place. The man screamed, doubled over while his friends held onto his shoulders to keep him from falling to the ground.

"I must not have heard you correct. Because, I'm pretty sure you just called something of mine, yours?" Childe took a step toward them, his body raging, his blades growing at the thought of them calling you theirs. "So, I'm going to give you another chance to repeat yourself."

The group scurried like rats down the drenched alleyway and though he was half-temped to chase after them, to teach them a lesson, he barely made it a step when something burning grabbed his pant leg.

In an instant, his blades faded into nothing and he turned to scoop you into his still trembling arms. You were on fire, and even though he could tell you had near to no strength, you still managed to wrap your arms around his neck and hide against him.

With a possessive hand cupping the back of your head, he held you close and made his way to where he knew you'd be safe.

--

You could finally breathe without a protest from your lungs. Only a few areas ached instead of everywhere, and though you were still warm, you felt surrounded by cool waters.

Shifting, you tried to sit up, to open your eyes, but something covered your eyes and you fell back into satin.

"Sleep," a voice told you. It felt stern, but warm. Your tried to push the darkness away but found it hard, even when you curled your fingers around the palm of someone's hand. "You're still sick. So go back to bed."

"Where -- where am I?" you croaked, your voice dry and scratchy.

"You're safe." The voice felt so familiar. You breathed and though your nose was stuffy, you caught a whiff of something that made you turn your head toward the dip in the bed.

"... Childe? What's happening?"

"Don't worry your head over it. You're alright, that's all that matters."

You listened to his voice, felt his palm against your skin, sensed his presence next to you. You weren't sure how you got here, honestly you weren't sure where you even were, but Childe was here - he was right here and, as you moved closer to him and let your forehead press against his side, you felt safer than you ever had in all your life.

--

Childe turned his head from the book in his hands to glance at the sleeping figure next to him. It was the first time he'd ever seen you so relaxed, so at ease. The first time you'd ever been this near to him - the first time you'd ever been in his bed.

Carefully, he ran his fingers over your ear and let them know the taste of your skin while you slept.

He sighed and wondered how he was ever going to let you go now.

--

Diluc

The cold air reminded him another season was passing, changing. He'd stopped trying to measure the passage of time years ago, but there was something about cold, night air that felt like a ticking clock. Or maybe it was the reliable pocket watch he kept with him while he worked to help him tell when he could 'respectfully' request everyone leave so he could do more, important, work.

"Master Diluc," Charles said as he slid a heavy wooden box onto the back counter, "I think we've got another in the back."

"Great," Diluc held back a sigh but not the heavy roll of his eyes, and stashed the cup he had just pulled down for a customer. "Finish this up. I'll deal with it."

"Sounds good. What can I getcha?" he asked the drunk patron who didn't seem bothered to repeat their order to the new, friendlier, bartender.

Diluc reached for his jacket as he passed the back office. His hair snagged the coarse fabric as he pulled it from underneath. He adjusted the collar before opening the door to the back alley.

He hated dealing with drunks in the first place, but a sick one throwing up behind his establishment was somehow worse.

Scanning the immediate area didn't reveal anything to him. So he took another step into the chilly evening. Off in the distance, near the stairs that lead to the small docks on the lake, he saw a silhouette hunched over a stack of crates. Ones he had just assisted in unloading earlier that day.

"Hey, don't make it other people's problem if you can't hold your ---" Diluc froze when he saw the blob of dark shadows turn into your shape and likeness. He blinked, thinking he had made it up, but as he drew closer he knew his eyes didn't lie. Normally, you would have waved to him, called out to him - brightened his day - but right now you looked terrible. When he called to you, you didn't answer.

His pace quickened when he saw you stumble away from the crates and he was practically running when you fell to the ground. He let out a breath when he was just in time to catch your head before it careened into the cobblestone.

"... are you ok--?" Diluc turned you toward him but he didn't need to feel your brow to know you were burning up. He could see it in your pained expression, in the moisture of the night as it drifted toward him. When he realized you didn't have anything on you, he took actions into his own hands. "Hold on."

Diluc hoisted you into his arms, made sure you rolled into him as he carried you swiftly back toward the bar. With every groan and whimper he became more concerned. His muscles tensed when your fingers weakly grasped his clothes. Even though it made you whine, he held you closer to him and picked up the pace.

There were only a few sounds in this world that made his heart stop.

He took no time carrying you up the stairs to the third-floor apartment he used on nights he didn't want to make the long walk back to the Winery. As he passed by the confused, and rightfully worried Charles, word was already on its way to the church to bring a healer.

--

You were so hot. Your back hurt to the point you wished someone would rip it from you. Every breath was agonizing but you couldn't convince yourself to stop breathing.

You felt somewhere between dead and alive, and though you didn't understand it, you found yourself in a bed you didn't recognize, in a room you'd never been in before.

The shapes came and went. A halo of light bloomed in the corner. You coughed, pulled back the sheets but froze when a figure now stood where the halo once was.

"Who --"

"Don't get up," a voice, a familiar voice said. The figure moved closer to you. You tried to lift your hands in defense but they were weak and in your uncoordinated move, you slipped from the sheets. "I got you," the voice comforted you. Gentle words that floated into your ear. Something sturdy and wrapped around your stomach.

The figure, which smelled like barrels of sweetened fruit, carefully helped you back into the bed. Strands of red filled your senses and brushed against your cheek. Kind fingers caressed your jaw as they slipped to the back of your neck and eased you onto your back.

"Try to rest. I've called on a healer." The figure spoke, their deep voice like the rustle of leaves in the morning sun. "You're safe. I've got you," they said like a mantra as their fingers soothed your weary eyes closed. "I've got you."

The warmth of their touch against your skin was soothing, but suddenly it was gone and you cried out, reached out your hand to find it again. "Don't go," you pleaded.

Their touch returned to your fingertips, then your palm as they took your shaking hand in theirs. "I'm right here," the voice soothed and let you hold your captured treasure close to your parted lips.

You found it strange that your sickness would concoct such a vivid and realistic specter in the shape of the man who held your heart.

--

Thoma

"Hah, not a problem," Thoma waved them off for the third time. "It really wasn't that difficult. So don't worry about it." He took another step back and let out a playful laugh even as the person bowed for the tenth time in front of him.

Eventually, after many more reassurances, he managed to be on his way and - surprisingly - was only ten minutes behind schedule. With speed, and restraining himself to only courteous waves and passing smiles, he hastily walked down the busy Inzuma streets. To save himself more time, he dipped into a less traveled alleyway and doubled his pace.

It wasn't uncommon to see random and sometimes unsightly scenes in the back alleys. Inazuma was safe, but it wasn't immune to crime. So, as he spied a figure hunched over a stack of crates, he debated if the person looked like they did, or didn't, belong there. When he got closer, he started to recognize bits a pieces of the blurry figure.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and growing with each second. When you didn't answer him, and he saw you stumble away from the crates and fall to the ground, his joy shifted to fear.

He swore he'd never run so fast in his life.

When you didn't answer him, or react to your name, he wasted no time in lifting you from the dirty, cold ground and into his arms. He wasn't far from the estate, but he also wasn't close. Normally you had a bag - one he remembered because you'd purchased it with him the last time the two of you went to the markets - but right now you were empty handed. Something was clearly wrong.

With you in his arms, Thoma rushed through the alley. His heart raced at the sound of your labored breathing, at the way your face scrunched with every jostle of his movements, at the trembling hand that gripped his clothes.

"Hold on," he soothed, "Just hold on." Thoma burst through the alley and ran through the crowded streets toward the Kamisato Estate.

--

Something cold touched your forehead and you let out a gasp at the contact. Instinctually, you tried to push it away with weak hands.

"I know its cold," a voice said. A comforting, familiar voice that called to your heart. Whoever it was took your hand and caressed your skin with a gentle thumb. "You have a fever, this will help."

You groaned, tried to open your eyes but found it hard. Your body ached and though you didn't want it to, it moved uncomfortably under plush sheets.

After a while the covering over your eyes lifted and you heard the sound of water falling. Turning your head, you pried open your burning eyes to capture blurry and unusual shapes. Your heart raced as you tried to figure out where you were, but the longer it took, the more concerned you were.

"I ha --- to go," you tried to push yourself up but swift footsteps met you before you could.

"Easy, you're sick. You need your rest."

Why was this voice so familiar?

You looked up, even though the action made your head throb. Squinting your eyes, the blob of yellow and red in front of you started to take shape.

"T-Thoma?"

The blob made a smile and pushed strands of your hair out of your face. "It's me," he reassured you, his hand cupping your cheek. Like someone who opened up a door to a dark room, his contact breathed new life into you.

He caught you You fell into him He ease you to rest You were finally at ease

"You found me," you said weakly with a thankful smile. His hand brushed the top of your head and the cold returned but, this time, it felt soothing, refreshing.

"I always do," he hummed and soon your uneasy breaths slowed and faded into healing slumber.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Did I tell you about the time I accidentally tracked an injured pigeon from multiple city blocks away?

So just after the duck incident, I had this very fresh idea of exactly what rotting bird smells like. I thought I had finally gotten the smell out of the house, but smells to me linger like they get stuck in my sinuses or something...

Anyway so I think it's finally, like gone, gone... and I am out for a walk, and I catch a faint whiff of "rotting bird blood" and I'm like "no". No I refuse to believe this smell is still haunting me, or in my clothes or My hair or whatever. I got that smell out... But I am not just imagining it right? I'm not losing my mind?

I turned back and forth a couple times and the smell got stronger or weaker and I'm like "Okay, if I follow it, I can maybe confirm that smell isn't 'coming from inside the house' so to speak, yeah?" So I do.

Trying not to look like I am obviously sniffing the air and changing my mind about where to walk based on that and maybe pulling off looking more like a crow, or more like I am listening for something, I follow that fucking smell. I follow it long enough that I would be starting to think it's getting silly of me except the smell keeps getting stronger.

So finally I walk back and forth past some store fronts and determine that the smell is strongest right between the buildings. There's an alley there that's maybe 2 feet wide if you're generous about it. And I can hear pigeons cooing. So I stick myself into this little -too narrow to be an alley, you wouldn't want to walk down it really- and there's this pigeon with a fucked up wing. There's blood on the pavement near it, old and dried out. It's mate is there with it and bringing it food. It's tucked away out of they street and it has someone taking care of it, at least, even if that someone is other pigeons. It looks like a cat got at it's wing maybe, or it got clipped by a car. It doesn't want me coming near it.

So there's my answer. The 'rotting bird blood' smell I had just tracked through all the other smells downtown and past main street isn't some big massacred bird corpse stinking in the sun or 20 pigeons that were gunned down with pellets the way it smelled like... It's a living pigeon with an injured wing. The smell that was driving me nuts from blocks away because it was so strong to me and because I knew what the smell was enough to recognize it and be bothered I didn't know where it was coming from.

The fucking look I gave myself.

[Like good job buddy you found the smell! You tracked a little bird! Do you want a reward? Dumbass go back to your errands... Like before the store closes, and tell no one]

It felt so silly. It was silly. Probably, but I did learn something about myself and how human senses are that day.

The biggest obstacle to most people being able to pick up on really subtle smells is a combination of bothering to pay attention, being familiar enough with a smell to recognize it, and having an emotional reaction to it enough that it comes to your attention at all, instead of begin written off unconsciously as meaningless noise. Part of my good hearing and sense of smell might be thin nerve endings and sensitive nerves [connective tissue, hormones and autism], but part of it is also the autistic inability to turn off 'junk' sensory input, and just being an observant person prone to noticing patterns. Maybe I have a particularly strong memory for smells in particular for recognition type recall, even if my proactive/intentional recall is shit.

Real life human noses can just be like that too.

really I prommy.

And that's without conscious training! There are people who intentionally expose themselves to all the smells and "notes" they can to learn to identify things that way, like cigarette brands by scent, or wines, or whatever!

If you have a character who's a "nose" who has had training and lots of experiences or is a spy who was trained -knowing- they have super senses... I am not going to be impressed if they can only manage the kind of party tricks I can!

And that's why my biggest gripe about writers trying to write characters with a super-sense of smell is twofold:

What you have described isn't outside the range of things I can smell myself [okay I wouldn't say I am an unmutated human exactly like I do have genetic mutations, but you know what I mean]

You haven't given the character a -reason- to be familiar with what that smell even is! There is no inborn ledger of what smells are in the human psyche! They have to be familiar with the smell from a known source to know what it is! Stop forgetting that! Your character needs a reason to have noticed what these things smell like! They won't know what radiation damaged flesh smells like unless they've smelled that before! They won't know what liver cancer smells like unless they have smelled it before! The have to know what a person smells like and that the smell on something -was- from that person to begin with -for someone they haven't met- before they can notice their scent on the wind! Otherwise all they are getting is "a human who used hotel soap" or "something off".

It isn't hard to establish a background comparison they can make to what a smell must be. They spent time in hospitals or medical facilities or old age homes and talked to people enough to identify patterns in what smells are, or they worked at a gas station for a while and know the difference between different fuel smells, gasoline and diesel, leaded, unleaded, etc...

Maybe even they smell something and their brain instantly says "a helicopter was here" and they have to take a moment to be like "why the fuck do I know what a helicopter smells like [or what combo of smells registers as 'helicopter' like machine lubricant, the right fuel, the material of the seats, etc...], obviously there's something I am not remembering, because unconsciously I knew what that smell was when I shouldn't"

I have gotten entire memories back, as someone with amnesia and repressed memories -including of being in a car accident- because I unconsciously ordered what used to be my old coffee order and the smell and taste slammed me back 10 years deep into a memory... A lot of human memory is closely linked to smell and even the writers who -think- they are taking advantage of that aren't thinking big enough.

Yeah it's an experience that's hard to fake if it isn't how you live, but like... Try really testing out your own sense of smell sometime, consciously, [I mean if you smoke or keep exposing yourself to corona I can't help you]. Make a habit of picking out smells around you and taking note of what they are. Carry a notepad around and start to notice trends. Maybe ask a friend with a sensitive nose and sensory issues what their experiences are like.

[morimakesfanart]

Lucid Dream - A Sudden Meeting

[AO3] [Wattpad]

ONE SHOT Summary:

I had a lucid dream that when from almost a nightmare to full JJK mission so I had to turn it into a oneshot. There are no changes from what happened in the dream.

2007, Me and my sibling were unregistered sorcerers tracking down a curse when Geto and Gojo crashed the party and we did are best to flee. Turns out we were a little too interesting be allowed to just leave without talking first.

CW: Canon typical violence, blood, Geto & OC, Gojo & OC if you squint, enemies to friends kinda

NOTE: "Lyly" is pronounced "lee-lee"

---

Me and Lyly were wandering an empty building that reminded me of a college campus or fancy high school. We were searching separately for something. From all the grime the place felt abandoned but the furniture and fixtures seemed too new for the amount of gunk built up on them. I hadn't figured out what the dream was yet, but I was wearing the black canvas jacket I instinctually dawn every time I might need to fight.

"Mori!" Lyly called out from farther down the hall. "We found it."

I headed to the room their voice came in. They were standing just in front the doorway. The light from the hallway's emergency lights lit up just enough to see the mess inside. The bloody corpse of a male student was sprawled on the floor; a trail smeared along the path between two rows of desks. The vague memory of a newspaper article came to mind to explain the situation. Multiple people were disappearing at this school -all male. I had an idea of what we were doing in this dream and let my voice follow the flow of the growing plotline, "This matches the descriptions alright. It's gotta be somewhere around here then."

The shadows of the room darkened under my focus and rippled as I scanned the area. The energy in the room wasn't the source- 'Not hiding in here,' -either something left over, or something growing because of whatever was causing the carnage. I'd clean up the residual energy properly later.

We found a few more rooms in similar condition. A voice started whispering when we got near the bodies.

'Some kind of murderous yandere stalker.' The growing smell was the worst part. It became more intense the closer we got to the energy source I was sensing at the end of the hallway. It was iron, excrement, decay and rot beyond what the bodies should smell like at that stage. I don't normally even have smell in dreams so this was extra unlucky. This dream had the possibility to go from nightmarish to night terror if I wasn't careful. The residual energy I felt and the thing we were looking for was definitely going to be the source of the nightmare.

"I didn't like how he looked at you. This was for your safety."

"The red is pretty, isn't it?"

I felt people step onto my shadows in the hallway but they vanished by the time we exited the room.

Even though I was lucid I didn't have enough control to fully change the dream or force myself awake. That was probably because I was out of practiced from not being able to sleep deep enough to dream in weeks. I was unnerved, not scared. I was still in control. Since I also couldn't make a door to leave to another dream, I probably couldn't force the nightmare through a door either. Which left me with one option: I had to eat it. I figured out I could eat night terror cores around the time I was 13. A nightmare or terror is born from my fears so by eating it I'm just returning it to where it came from. I coat the source with my consciousness, compress it into a ball, and eat it. They're astringent, but the texture is honestly the worst part -sticky and leaves a film behind that lasts for a while. The worst will linger even after I wake up. It was the best way to prevent my PTSD from taking over so it was always significantly more agreeable than running or risk being caught by it instead.

((The power sets I have in my lucid dreams are the ones I typically give my self-inserts since I have direct "experience" with them :3 I was planning on giving my JJK self insert this power set before I got to where Geto is introduced and shown to have a similar ability. Gosh I was pissed for a while XD "That's mine!" and all that. I have accepted my fate now ;3))

We found a classroom that had multiple bodies in it. It felt like it might finally come out in here. This room was much closer to its hiding place too. Lyly entered first and walked to the far side by the covered windows.

I headed over to a body near a blood splattered desk. The voice repeated the same kind of lines as before. "Do you like it? I did this for you, you know?" Looking at its work was provoking it so far, but we needed something more to make it fully manifest. The air started to feel thick the farther I got into the room, and my shadows picked up the presence of multiple beings along the hallway. I pulled out the chair that went with the desk. A notebook fell and the page it opened to was full of angry scribbles.

"You should have heard the way he talked about you. He didn't deserve you." I felt a shadow form behind me as a figure solidified. It was close enough for me to feel it's breath.

Lyly cautioned from the other side of the room. "Careful."

I looked back at it and it giggled at my attention. It looked like a white man in his mid 20's. He kinda reminded me of the antagonist from the game "At Dead of Night" but his proportions were a bit wrong like when you push a 3D rig to break and then try to push it back instead of reloading. His hands were drenched in blood and more had splattered onto the rest of him. The victims all seemed to be sliced with something sharp, but this guy didn't have a weapon. "You've always looked so pretty surrounded by red." Red really isn't my color. "At least they were able to make you pretty for me." His smile grew farther than a humans' mouth can stretch. "Let me make more for you to prove my love."

The growing anxiety I felt wasn't coming from my heart. It was like this thing -this attempt at a nightmare- was trying to force those feelings on me. "Disgusting." I felt no true fear saying it. The moment he would actually try to touch me I'd take him out.

A small sound from the door way caught my attention. Past its shoulder I saw two tall figures standing at the entrance of the room. 'How long have they been there?' Was this an additional threat? It took me a second to recognize them as Geto and Gojo from the end of their teenage arc. Geto wasn't wearing the uniform, but Gojo was wearing it behind him. I knew instinctually that Lyly and I were unregistered sorcerers. 'This would explain why Lyly looks so much younger.' It had to be around 2007, so I was roughly 16 but with the hair cut I actually wanted back then. ...And I was dragging a 12 year old around a battle field... They seemed to be handling it fine, and I was here. It was fine.

The curse -because it was now canon compliant instead of being a nightmare seed- followed my gaze to the two at the door. "How dare they look at you!"

I took advantage of the distraction to grab its arm before it could charge them. Just because my attempts to change the dream finally work, didn't mean I wasn't going to eat it. The shadows in the room and hallway rippled with my touch and coated the curse until it became a silhouette. Its form morphed and shrank under my will, but it popped and oozed until it vanished. "I knew that was too easy to be the main body," I explained my thought process just as much to clarify for Lyly, as I did to try to make it clear to our sudden audience that we were not the perpetrators.

Geto was showing that soft yet sly smile he often wore while he entered the room. Gojo stayed in the hallway and looked down the end we hadn't checked yet. I could feel the curse surging through the shadows in that direction. Just as the closer one opened his mouth to speak, the hallway filled with more copies just like the one I destroyed. This was an even better distraction than the first one.

Lyly dragged a chair across the floor, and we vanished -the loud sound acting as the trigger for their ability. The chaos surrounding the six eyes in the hallway would be decent enough cover even if he saw through the illusion too quickly. At least it clearly worked on Geto. He walked into the room confused, "Where did they go??"

I pulled Lyly into a shadow with me. We traveled along the upper corners of the room, out the door, and down the hall in the opposite direction of the swarm. The electric blue light of Gojo's eyes glowed even as my shadows rippled over him and the decoy curses he was playing with. And he was definitely playing with them; I could feel his smile and how relaxed his muscles were when my shadows touched him.

I really wanted that curse to boost my ability -assuming it worked the way I thought it did- but not getting caught was far more important. Honestly, if they hadn't seen us with the bodies I doubt I would have been so worried. However, the circumstantial evidence was working against us this time.

We rested in a storage room on the first floor that had two cots we could sit on. Probably a prop and set piece room, from the miscellaneous groups of things -assuming this school had a theater program. Between the two of our abilities this room would be glossed over by most eyes as unimportant.

I laid on my cot to rest and process what was happening. We could hear the commotion two floors down from the source. Either that curse was stronger than I thought or Gojo was still still playing with it because he was bored. "Should we wait for things to settle down to escape, or use the chaos as cover?"

Were my shadows able to touch him because he let them? None of the curse's doubles were able to reach him so he hadn't turned off limitless. My shadows aren't physical unless I intentionally manifest them, so maybe that was how they slipped through. Or maybe it was because there was no violent intent from them. I didn't want to find out the hard way.

Lyly turned their head to look at me with a scowl. "I don't think your shadows are going to be enough to get past that guy. Did you see how his eyes glowed? They were brighter than the light on your air purifier." An image came to mind of the blue on light illuminating my room as I try to sleep. If anyone in this world can see, it's that guy. ((When I was telling Lyly about the dream, when I got to this part they jokingly said said, "that bitch can see." and I needed to share UwU))

That made me laugh. "You have a point there," I agreed as I pushed myself back into a sitting position. He'd be able to see through both of our abilities. Waiting would just give him an easier time finding us.

We took a minute to stretch before making our way out.

That curse's energy was still all throughout the building so no matter where we went we could run into one of its spares which also meant there was a high chance we could run into the sorcerers too. I kept my focus on the shadows so I could feel were everyone was. 'Much easier to avoid detection if you know where not to be after all. Except, at some point one of the human shadows vanished after leaving the building through a fucking wall on the 3rd floor. Satoru Gojo was flying so I couldn't detect his shadow anymore -probably. No matter. We had made it out of the building too, but on the ground floor like a normal person.

Gojo was definitely flying next to the building. He was grabbing all of the fake bodies of the curse and crushing them all together in air like some grotesque katamari ball. I could almost hear the self amused smack talk and I wasn't about to get close enough to hear it for real. Especially not after watching multiple windows explode as he pulled out more fakes with Blue.

As we started running into the court yard to get away, several other curses sprung out from no where. Lyly pulled out a staff. I didn't see from where. Maybe my shadows? Everything happened so fast I was moving on instinct. Every motion of the staff made a sound like a chain and glass balls shaking inside it. The sounds were enough for them to manifest a curved blade that could move along the shaft.

They got the crescent formed just in time to block a giant eel curse. I used the shadows under it to grab it to halt its momentum and shove it off. Strangely, these curses didn't feel malicious. They were matching the level of violence we used. I didn't want to think about what would happen if we fought for real. The hoard kept breaking in-between us until we were forced to separate. We were being herded and I couldn't stop it at all.

They chased us towards opposite ends of the campus. I couldn't keep my focus divided between tracking where they were leading Lyly, and monitoring my own surroundings. The court yard stretched to keep us from making progress too, as if the dream itself wasn't going to let me leave until I went along with whatever it was after. "Stay safe! I'll meet you outside!" Lyly confirmed that they heard me with a nod that I felt through the shadows since I couldn't see them with my eyes anymore; they were too far away. I used the shadows under them to push them as far away from the curses as I could before they got fully out of my range.

My shadows that had been stretched between us returned back to me so I could see more of the area I was slowly being pushed into. I felt a person's shadow almost immediately. A quick glance proved it was Geto and a chill ran down my spine. His cold gaze rolled down like fog from the hill he was on top of. Even if this was before he fully went crazy I couldn't feel safe near him if this was after the star plasma incident. I tried my best to break out of the group of curses, but I didn't know how much power I actually had and I didn't want to find out the hard way. I couldn't fall into a shadow to get away because of the direct sunlight on me. There were just too many of them for me to break out without getting violent. I dropped all of my shadows and raised my arms in surrender. The curses stopped attacking immediately.

He waited patiently as I climbed the hill up to meet him. He somehow managed to make saying, "Hi" with a smile and wave seem threatening. Or maybe it just felt threatening to me because of how similar it was to when he did it in canon. "Anything you'd like to say?" He looked... tired.

"Would it matter if I did?" I took the spot to his left and turned so I was facing the campus like he was. Gojo's katamari ball was much bigger. 'Why hasn't he destroyed them yet? Just how much energy does that curse have to make that many fakes? It really is a shame I won't be able to eat it.' There was no point in fighting whatever they were going to do. I had no idea what my rank was, and even if it matched theirs I couldn't deny that, in the canon of this dream, they had far more experience than me.

Geto chuckled. "No. Not really."

He probably let Lyly go because they were obviously a child. I wouldn't get off so easily. Would he take me into questioning or kill me right here? From the malice wafting off of him, he didn't seem too sure either.

I signed and listened to the cicadas as the seconds ticked on. Were we in Japan or New Jersey? Our summers are pretty similar to theirs in this regard, so it was hard to tell. I also couldn't tell if we were speaking English or Japanese. 'It's a dream. It doesn't matter.' I could feel the end of the sleep cycle coming anyway.

Whatever thoughts he was having found their conclusion. His curses at the bottom of the hill and the violent air around him vanished. It made me tense up worse to be honest. "You don't have to worry about the kid. I pushed 'em out the West entrance. If you go out the way behind us you can regroup easily."

I just stared at him, unsure of what I was hearing. The pity and warmth in his eyes hurt to recognize. Relief that Lyly was okay hit and I looked out in the direction I had last seen them. It took me nearly a full minute to finally ask, "You're letting me go?" Not killing me? Not capturing me for questioning or anything?

Geto's hum was full of amusement. He looked back at me and I couldn't read the intent behind his smile. It was almost nostalgic.

"Why?" I didn't want to leave without knowing even as I felt the end of the dream catching up to me. I would hold on even as it started to fade.

Geto looked out at his friend's mess that was definitely going to get them both yelled again -neither of them put up a veil. "Well, he likes yo-"

The dream flickered like a VHS tape completely fucking up it's tracking. I had lost my hold on the dream from how fully offended I was by where that sentence was going. Didn't matter if it was going to end in "you," or "your (something)," it pissed me off. Somehow, without saying a word to each other, Gojo formed a positive opinion of me. And why'd I only find out because someone else told me?

The guy next to me took a look at me and changed his reasoning. "I guess you could say I feel like it." That was the last the dream showed me before I was forced awake.

It was only as I was writing all of this down that I remembered that Gojo can see how cursed energy moved so can figure out people's abilities, and he'd have been able to feel me watching him through the shadows. That last point might have even been why he jumped outside -to see how far I could follow him. I didn't like the idea of being watched back, but knowing him, he would have found it fun.

((I'm already working on a version of Gojo and Geto's perspective of all this, but it will be if me and Lyly were actually born in the JJK universe -fully a fanfic and not my dream ;3 No idea if it will turn into a full fic or a one shot. We'll see where the inspiration takes me

Also, yes, I did post it on Dec 24th on purpose ;3))

((Edit: For the people finding me for the first time through this. This is my first JJK fic. Most of what I've posted to this account is Magi, but I fully intend to make more JJK because of this))

[seventeenpins]

violet pairing: older qz!joel x f!reader

word count: 5.8k

summary: follow-up to forget-me-not. it's been seven years since you last saw joel in the boston qz, and a lot has changed. you find yourselves reunited in jackson.

warnings: smut, actually contains a lot of plot (sorry), tommy, maria & ellie all exist, allusions to/discussion of abortion, reader has a kid, joel is insecure about being an old man (you're only 63, it's ok buddy), reader is mid-thirties to early 40s, lil bit of daddy kink, face sitting, multiple orgasms.

a/n: okay first -- header or no header? like, it's a bit ridiculous but i also kinda love it? instead of packing up for a move, i've been writing this 🤷 thanks for all the continued love on my fics, it's so sweet and means a whole lot. working on a few other stories, and i hope to have more out soon!

this chapter is dedicated to the dumbass at the club who didn't quite manage to ruin a first date i was on by asking us what we thought about gay rights (as two fem-perceived folks caught smoochin) and then telling us "you're clearly so in love, i respect that" before yeeting off in the moonlight.

you could have sworn the terrain had been totally empty only moments before, but now in the blink of an eye, you’re surrounded by a small group of riders, armed, their horses huffing down at you. 

“shit,” you gasp, trying to shield your girl, but realising there was little use. can’t put your body in front of hers when there’s people on every side of you. instead, your hands grip tighter on the shoulders of your daughter and you take a breath, trying to steady your breathing.

“you been near infected?” a man calls down at you, and his accent reminds you of joel, so much so that your heart flutters for a moment at the memory. you’ve met lots of people on your travels, a few of them from austin, too, and every time you think of him.

“no,” you call back, “last we saw them was back in the dakotas and there weren’t many there. that was weeks ago, haven’t encountered any since.”

the man nods, and you’re not sure what he’s thinking under his stetson, but the fact you’re not shot yet seems like a good sign. hopefully.

"frankly, we've had much more trouble from people than from infected on our way. but we've been able to take care of ourselves," you say, and you're hoping your words have an underlying edge of danger, but you're pretty sure you just come off as scared and defensive.

the man nods, and looks you up and down. “well, we've gotta make sure,” he says, almost apologetic, and you tense. it takes a moment before you see the dog, but then a dark blur comes bounding towards you, snarling. You tense and pull your girl close, but after a few moments of incredibly stressful sniffing, the dog leaves you alone and trods back to his owner, panting happily.

“good,” the man says, “now we've got that cleared up, what’s your business here?”

it's a good fuckin question, but not one you have a direct answer to.

"we came from boston," you tell him, "it was okay for a while, but the qz changed--got worse. more bombings. more hangings. if it was just me i might have stayed put, but i have my daughter."

there's so much you could say, but you're pretty sure you're advocating for your own life right now, so you keep it short and simple.

"we're just trying to find... somewhere better. travelling through all the places i've ever known people, to see if there's somewhere safe out there at all."

he nods, and the group surrounding you seems to back down a little.

"come with us. i think we might have what you're looking for," he tells you, and then one rider jumps down from their horse, mounts another, and the first man helps you and your daughter onto the vacated horse.

you follow the group, cantering along, and the man keeps an eye on you, and a woman in the group rides up next to you.

"so, you're from the boston qz? that's quite a journey," the man says, and nods his head towards the young woman, "she and i both travelled here from boston, years ago. i left back in, oof, '13? remind me, when did you leave?"

the woman nods, "left when i was fourteen, in '23."

"oh wow," you say, "i honestly didn't expect to meet anyone from boston round here"

there's a pause.

"what did you say your name was?" he asks, and you tell him.

"and this is violet," you say, giving your daughter's shoulder a squeeze, and she nestles back into your chest, ever shy around strangers.

"nice to meet you both," the woman grins, "i'm ellie"

"and i'm tommy," the man says. you're sure it's just a weird coincidence, a common name, just cos he happens to share the same name as joel's brother it doesn't mean anything, but you can't help but ask-

"this is probably silly, but you're not tommy miller are you?"

both tommy and ellie halt, so you do to, as they communicate something through quick glances and furrowed brows.

"wait," you say, "are you? tommy miller?"

he stares you down, and all of a sudden, you see it in his eyes. joel's eyes. violet's eyes.

"i-" your heart is pounding now with the realisation, "i knew your brother. i knew joel. he was a-" you hesitate for only a split second, "friend."

"well shit," tommy says. he caught the hesitation when you landed on friend, and he's looking at you, brows furrowed. "when was the last time you saw him?"

you shrug. "guess it was seven years ago." you look at your daughter, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and then back up at tommy. "it was when he'd stopped hearing from you, actually. he came out to find you. did... did he find you?"

tommy doesn't answer, his eyes widening, and you can see him put the pieces together as he looks at you and then at your daughter, to you, and to her again.

"how old did you say she was?" he nods at violet but keeps his gaze fixed on you.

"i didn't."

"humor me."

"she's six."

"huh," he says, and ellie's looking between you two now and you can see realisation dawning on her, too.

"wait a second--holy shit," ellie cackles, "joel's gonna lose his fuckin' mind."

a sudden flare of panic and excitement floods through you. "wait, you know him too? he's nearby? i'm sorry- he lives around here? he made it?"

ellie snorts and tommy lets out a noise that's almost like a cross between a deep exhale and a strangled moan.

"yep, he lives in town. made it here with ellie a few years back. been living here a while now."

you don't know if you're thrilled or terrified. to be honest, your brain suddenly feels like it's filled to the brim with bees that were muffling out any thought more complex than AAAAHHHHHHHH.. you'd always hoped you might see joel again, but it wasn't till now you realised you never really believed you would.

he's alive. he actually made it.

as if sensing your racing thoughts, tommy pulls up beside you and claps a strong hand on your shoulder.

"one step at a time, sweetheart. seems like y'all have a whole lotta catchin' up to do."

after you're brought through the gate and finish up at the dining hall for a bite to eat, tommy and ellie take you both on a tour of jackson. you'd seen lots of things in the time you'd travelled, but this is the first real community you'd seen. it made you think of the old days, or rather, your ideas of the old days. you were too young when the world ended, but the idea of people living together and supporting one another without bombs going off on street corners and scheduled hangings was something else.

"we've been workin' on makin' a functioning society here. we get energy from the dam, so actual, non-fedra electricity." tommy points along the main street at the street lighting (actual street lighting!!)

"most of the shops are along here," he continues, pointing out each place as he lists them off, "necessities, like a cobbler and a tailor over in that space. greenhouses and farms over in that direction as well as a clinic. we've got a bar, a couple o' bakeries, house of worship, stables back that way- couple fellas opening a barbershop in that space over there pretty soon. and, of course, the residential area just down here. we've got a lotta houses, and we're working on refurbishing a whole lot, too. most families have their own homes. you're welcome to take some time to decide if you would like to stay here, but y'all seem like decent people and at the very least, we can put you up in some of our temporary housing 'til we have a better grasp on what you need. we got families of all configurations here. we did that a whole lot better after the world ended. and this is a home for a lotta people."

"oh-!" ellie says, suddenly excited, "and the school's over there, if you guys wanna stay. fedra school fucking sucked but this one was actually pretty cool. we actually got to learn stuff!"

violet giggles a little, and ellie shoots her a bright smile that makes her giggle little more. it feels safe here. you don't remember the last time things have felt safe. you're trying to take it all in, memorise every storefront, every person, every moment, when the aroma of fresh-baked pastries suddenly assaults your nostrils and you let out an involuntary moan.

"been a while, huh?" ellie asks and snorts, and you nod. "i grew up in the qz so i never had one of these till the shop opened up a couple years ago. but i hear it's just like the old days!"

"mama, it smells really good," violet says, and it's the first thing she's said since you've come through the gates.

"it does, doesn't it?" you ask her, "and look at all these shops. see those clothes in the window there?"

her eyes are as wide as saucers, and you're so overwhelmed with joy that she gets to experience this that you don't notice ellie bounding up the steps to the bakery and running back a minute later with a paper wrapped something in hand.

she holds it out to you and you take it from her gingerly. you kneel down to let violet unwrap the paper and inside is a perfect strawberry danish. you're stunned.

"that's cream cheese and butter from our cows," tommy tells you, "strawberries and wheat grown here, too. all fresh. all cordyceps free. we don't risk using any of the old stuff that might be contaminated"

that's amazing. that's fucking amazing.

"here, baby," you tear off a piece for violet, and she clutches it carefully and sniffs at it warily before popping it into her mouth, chewing with furrowed brows, and breaking out into a grin.

"welcome to jackson," ellie says, and now you're laughing too.

by the evening, tommy's given you a tour of the whole settlement and left you, ellie, and violet at the tipsy bison with an invitation to join him and his family for dinner. there was a strong likelihood that joel would be there and you were shitting bricks.

what if he's totally different from how you remember him? what if he isn't?

what if he wants nothing to do with you? what if he wants nothing to do with violet?

what if he's forgotten you?

you pinch yourself to pull out of your spiral. ellie winks at violet, who's sipping at her juice, and clinks her glass against yours. together, you take large swigs of your beer.

she tells you a bit about herself. she's vague about how she and joel met, and you're not sure if it's because she doesn't want to talk about it or if she's trying to spare the gory details around violet, but she speaks of him fondly and blushed a little when she mentioned i've kinda become, like, a surrogate daughter to him. and he's my old man.

before you could gather your thoughts and ask any follow-ups, she's already blowing through different topics, grinning as she tells you about her girlfriend, about her tattoo and how she wants another one, about her favorite horse, and the way patrols worked around here, and you relax into the conversation. into the peace. into taking a break.

before you know it, the three of you are walking towards tommy's house and right as you're about to knock at the door, ellie barrels past and swings the door open with a bellowed "we're here!" reverberating off the walls.

as you step through the door, delicious food smells waft through the hallway and you hear laughter and music coming from the kitchen. ellie makes a beeline through the door on your right and you take it all in for a moment.

"you coming?" ellie calls, and you follow her.

and stop dead in your tracks.

illuminated in the light of an antique shaded lamp, sat on a rocking chair, was joel.

he's greyer and more tired, but he also looks- happy? and he's got reading glasses on as he peers at what looks to be a picture book as he points out the illustrations to the kid on his lap. your jaw drops.

the kid's probably around the same age as violet.

ellie is stood in the corner of the room, half-heartedly pretending to examine a bookshelf while she blatantly eavesdrops.

joel looks up and smiles in a way that you've only seen a few times before. it's... unguarded. he extends a hand, "hi there, you must be our guests, i'm jo-"

and then recognition flickers over his face and he stops. stares at you, wide eyed, and then his eyes flick over to violet, and back to you.

"hi joel," you say.

if you're honest, you're expecting him to be the asshole you remember. grouchy. closed off. sweet only in private, intimate, brief moments.

what you don't expect is for him to gently call over to ellie with a "we need a minute here, could you take your cousin and see if tommy and maria need a hand?"

cousin, he'd said, and you can feel your heart slow down a notch, calming down a little. oof. one step at a time, you remind yourself, one step at a time.

"sure thing," ellie nods and helps the kid down from joel's lap, holding his hand as they walk through to the kitchen.

you're stood, frozen, as joel takes off his readers, rubs his eyes, and stands up. you've forgotten how imposing he can be, but even now, he just feels like a big shield between you and the rest of the world. you stare at each other for just a moment, and then strong arms are wrapping around you and joel is laughing?

"fuck," he snorts, "i can't believe it's you. after all this time!"

he pulls back but keeps his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down, studying you.

and then he looks back down at violet and you see his face contort from joy to something almost like fear. maybe dread, even? or anticipation.

"mama, who is this man?" violet asks, tugging at your sleeve, and you kneel down to her.

you meet eyes with joel one more time before answering her, and you see building panic behind them.

this was, admittedly, a lot. one step at a time. "his name is joel, he was a friend of mine. i knew him before you were born!"

violet extends her little hand out towards joel. "my name is violet, it's a kind of flower. i like your hair. it's sooo silvery."

you snort involuntarily, and joel gulps audibly, wide-eyed, before taking her small hand in his large palm, cradling it as if holding something precious, and shakes it. "i'm joel. it's nice to meet you."

you all have dinner and it's actually a pretty good time, as long as you don't make too much eye contact with joel, who looks as though he has an electric current running through him, keeping him wide eyed and twitchy. he's clearly trying to appear unfazed, but he's jumpy and not at all subtle, to the point that the kid who'd been on joel's lap earlier, rowan you'd learned, prods at joel at one point in the meal. joel jumps a mile and rowan furrows his brow asking why are you being so weird, uncle joel?

despite the tension, it's so domestic. this was a joel who folded his napkin on his lap before starting to eat, who minded his manners, and obviously pressed ellie to mind hers, too. the joel you patched up when he came to you bloodied and bruised felt like a shadow long since past.

after dinner, when you've made it through unscathed, tommy's watching the little ones as they conk out on the couch. maria's going over paperwork, and ellie's tuning a guitar.

joel pops his head into the room and makes a vague gesture indicating outside. "wanna chat on the porch?" he asks, and you nod and follow him.

there are a pair of handsome adirondack chairs and you each take a seat. you don't say anything, don't even look at one another. you just sit there in comfortable silence.

but then joel takes a deep breath and you know the question that's coming.

"violet?" he asks, "is she mine?"

you smile sadly.

"yeah," you say, "you're her daddy."

he chokes out a strangled noise and tries to cover it with a cough, badly.

he doesn't seem like he's gonna say anything, and you reckon he's not gonna, so you try and breeze past it.

"i know- i know it wasn't part of the plan." you exhale, "but it's okay, joel. she's only known one parent her whole life and it's common enough these days that she doesn't think it's strange. and i don't know if you ever want her to know that you're her dad, but i'm not ready for her to know. i'll tell her, but i want her to settle in here before any big life revelations come up for her. jackson's enough of a change as it is."

he nods slowly, coughs out a low "i understand. and i respect it. i just never thought-"

"neither did i," you cut him off, "and when i realized i was pregnant i didn't intend to keep it, but fedra had raided the last underground clinics that i knew about. most of the staff got hanged, and i was out of options."

he lets out a sharp exhale.

you're silent for another minute before joel speaks again.

"i'm sorry-" he says, "i'm sorry that your choice was taken from you. and i'm so sorry i wasn't there for you."

he still doesn't look at you, but he rests a hand on your knee.

"i can't believe- all this time and i have another daughter and i had no idea."

"she's such a cool kid," you tell him, "and don't get me wrong, i felt like the worst person in the world, bringing a kid into that fuckin'- fedra plague world," you admit, "but she's so funny, shy when you first meet her, but she has so much personality. every day, she's more and more of a tiny person! and she's just started doing this thing where i'll tell her something and she'll just scowl at me and she looks just like you-"

"hey, i don't scowl that much-" joel argues, scowling, and there's the joel you remember. all of a sudden you're hysterical with laughter, and then joel cracks too and he's laughing with you.

after a while, you fall into another comfortable silence. it gets later and later, and then joel's standing up and offering you a hand.

"'fraid i've got patrol in the morning, so i'd best be going to bed soon, and i'm guessing y'all are exhausted?"

you nod, feeling as if acknowledgement of it suddenly made it true. good god you were tired.

"you know what house you're staying in tonight?" he asked, and you tell him the number.

"sounds good," he nods, "can i walk ya home?"

"sure," you smile.

you head back inside, scoop up violet, and then the three of you are heading towards your temporary lodgings.

when you arrive, joel bids you goodnight at your doorstep and bobs his head a little as though he was about to lean in to kiss your cheek but then thought better of it, and instead takes your hand for a moment and mutters without looking directly at you, "it's really great to see you, baby. glad you made it here safe."

you go to bed. an actual bed, mind you.

you dreamed of joel miller.

you'd pretty much decided you and violet would stay here in jackson from the first minute you walked down the main street, but you gave it a few days before letting the council know. this is what you've been looking for, though. a home. a community. safety.

violet starts going to school. she's in the same year as rowan and apparently thrilled about it, so you're at tommy and maria's home more often than you'd imagined. you start patrolling, too. just short routes to begin with, but you didn't make it through this much without knowing how to survive, and you're good at it.

and then there's joel.

he's different.

he's aged, but he still looks great. the salt and pepper of his hair has turned more salt than pepper, and the crinkles by his eyes are deeper. you're still attracted to him, so attracted to him, but you don't wanna make any rash decisions. he seems lighter, clearly taken by ellie, and cautiously friendly towards you and violet.

he's made it clear he'd like to get to know her, but is happy to take his time, waiting until you're more comfortable with it. which is so beautifully, frustratingly thoughtful.

you never expected that cold, angry joel could be so warm and open, but he seems like such a doting family man, keeping an eye out for ellie, always there for tommy, being a good uncle for rowan. there was clearly some tension between him and his sister-in-law, too, but one evening you walked in on them doing dishes together, singing along to some old dolly parton cd. you slipped out the door before either of them saw you'd seen.

one night, violet and rowan are having a sleepover, supervised by tommy, and you have a rare night to yourself. you make your way over to the tipsy bison and relax at the bar, letting the whiskey warm you.

you chat with the bartender, and decide to put a song on the jukebox, but as you get up from your stool you knock the whiskey bottle over and watch tumble seemingly in slow motion before being caught by- "joel?"

"easy now," joel smiles, "don't want a repeat of last time."

it takes you aback for a moment, and then your face is burning with the memory.

"can't believe you remember that," you say, and he snorts.

"course i do. that was the last night i saw you."

he pulls out a stool and sits down next to you. gestures at the bartender for a glass, and pours himself a healthy finger of whiskey.

"how do you remember that night going?" you ask.

joel scratches at his cheek for a moment, pondering, and smiles, sipping his whiskey. "i was gonna be leavin' town, and i wanted to say goodbye so i checked out all your usual spots. walked in to see you smash a bottle and then try and flirt your way out of it with that weedy little bartender."

"i remember that bit, too," you say, "though on my end, i'll remind you, i was drinking because i was preemptively missing you and didn't realise you were leaving so soon."

"i do remember you saying that," joel nods, "and i was so mad because i'd spent so much time that night trying to find you, and that was time we wouldn't get back."

your eyes widen at his words. you didn't know this part. suddenly, you feel a warmth rising in you that you hadn't expected.

"do you remember what happened next?" he asks.

you nod. "yeah, you yelled at me a little, implied i was a whore, yelled at me more, and then told me you were leaving in the morning."

"jesus, i'm an asshole," joel says, and you smile.

"yeah, you are. neither of us were at our best though. but then we had one last night."

"one last night," he echoes.

neither of you say anything for a minute, and then joel breaks the silence.

"i'd be lying if i said i hadn't replayed that night over and over again in my head."

you smile. "me too," you admit, "it's honestly been a while since i've been with anyone, and when it's just me and my hand, that night's the first thing that i think of."

joel inadvertently chokes and splutters, dabbing at his mouth as he tries to collect himself. he's flushed a beautiful shade of pink and it makes you giggle.

"shit, girl, i forgot how blunt you can be."

"i think this might be the first wholly honest conversation we've had since i got to town," you ponder, still smiling, "we're always dancing around each other. in orbit but never colliding."

he looks at you with a curious expression on his face, like he's enjoying the task of trying to parse you almost as much as he's seeking an understanding.

you pour yourself another glass of whiskey and knock it back in one. you're gathering your courage. you're plotting plots now, and sure it's been a long time, but you figure it's worth a shot.

"i've been thinking, joel," you tell him, and his eyes are so focused on you, "i wanna say up front i don't have any expectations, and i won't be offended if you'd rather not-"

he raises an eyebrow at you and you could swear you see flirtation behind it.

"but, if you wanted-"

"spit it out"

"that last night doesn't have to be the last night."

your eyes are locked and don't speak, don't move, don't breathe.

and then joel miller's lips are crashing into yours, and you moan into him, one hand clutching at your shoulders, the other cupping your chin, and you melt into it.

"my place," you tell him, "violet's with her cousin tonight."

you realise that's the first time you said those words like that, so casual and normal, and you know you'll need to unpack that later but joel, shockingly, takes it in stride.

before you know it, you're walking up the porch steps with joel right on your heels and unlocking the front door.

you've barely gotten the door open before you're on the other side of it and it's slamming shut, joel pressing you against the threshold and kissing you deeply. one of his thighs presses between your legs and without thinking you rub up against it.

"shit, i've missed you baby," he says, and you're moaning against him as he helps you pull off your shirt, and you start to unbutton his. he continues, bashful, "didn't think you'd want an old man like me, anymore."

you scoff, "you've aged well, joel, and more than that, you've aged. you're still here and i can't even begin to tell you how much that means."

you tug the flannel from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor behind him before you pull off his undershirt.

"besides," you tell him, "you're the best lay i've ever had and i don't believe for a minute you've lost your touch."

he snorts, but then he's kissing on your neck again and you know you'll need to talk about things properly at some point. for now, though, you'll get lost in the feeling of him.

you're lost in the dizzy haze of touch. joel's hands are all over you, grabbing, stroking, caressing. you stumble to your bedroom, stepping out of your jeans and helping him shuck off his pants along the way. then he's laid out on your bed, bare except for his boxer shorts, chest heaving and cock straining.

you yank off your panties and climb on top of him, straddling him so your bare pussy rubs up against his hardness. he groans and grabs you by the hips, rocking you up and down his length.

"feel so good, baby," he breathes, and his eyes are fluttering closed in pleasure. "come here," he tells you, and he pulls you down for a kiss.

you take him in. look at his body. his chest hair has greyed, and he's got more scars than you remember including a nasty-looking one that must've been a close call. you run a thumb over the one on the side of his chest, still pearly but less pink these days, from the time you patched him up.

joel watches you watch him. "i never thanked you properly for that, sweetheart," he says, "but thank you. you saved my ass that night."

"of course," you tell him, as you dip down and lick a stripe up from his happy trail, all the way to his throat.

"fuck," he whines, and you shut him up with a kiss.

when you finally break, he strokes your cheek. "sit on my face," he tells you, and you don't need him to ask you twice.

you hobble up on your knees and then rest your cunt on his open mouth. he lets out a strangled moan and hmmms into you, the vibrations hitting your clit deliciously, before grabbing onto your hips and eating you like a man starved.

his clever tongue finds your aching clit and flicks against it, hard. once you're nearly overstimulated, he senses it and starts to lick long strokes, back and forth, dipping into your drooling pussy with each pass.

it's heavenly. addictive. you've hooked with old flames before, years after you'd slept with them last, and not only does joel not disappoint? he blows your fucking mind.

you come on his tongue and instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer. licks you deep. takes a breath and tells you "one more, baby, gimme another one."

you do, using his face to get yourself off, taking your time to build back up, rocking your hips over him, his nose covered with your slick, his cheeks, lips, and chin glistening so pretty when you finally shudder and spasm all over him.

"taste so good, baby," he tells you, "i wanna make you come on my tongue all night long."

"as much as i'd love that," you say, "i need that cock in me right fucking now. it's been seven years, joel."

he smirks, but doesn't need persuading.

he flips you over and presses his cock head at your entrance. before he slides in, though, he takes a moment to look you over.

you know you look older, and your hair has a few grey strands throughout. you've got more wrinkles, and stretch marks, and more than a few new scars.

before you can second-guess yourself, though, joel is stroking a hand along all of your perceived imperfections, adoring.

"so fuckin' beautiful", he whispers, "after all this time- i can't believe-"

you let your hand lace through the hair at his nape and give it a gentle tug. he closes his eyes, focusing only on the sensation, before opening them again. looking directly at you.

you're already so wet and worked up, he slides into you easily in one stroke, making you both gasp, and he just rests there for a moment, fully sheathed in you.

you clutch one another as he starts to thrust into you, pressing you open in a delicious stretch.

he fucks into you and then pauses and readjusts. moves your legs so they're on his shoulders, rather than wrapped round his waist. then he presses into you again, tentative, and your eyes practically roll back. it's the deepest thing you've felt.

"takin' me so good," he praises, "i feel how wet and ready you are, you've been needing this a while, huh?"

you can barely speak, only enough to breath out a whiny uh-huh that makes him chuckle.

"touch me", you beg, and he does, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, gripping your waist, your hips. he grabs at your ass and jiggles it before giving it a swat that makes you giggle, but he looks positively feral.

"this fuckin' body," he groans, and you squeak as you take a particularly deep thrust and he eases up just a little.

you reach up to grab his jaw and kiss him, and he kisses you back, deep and lovely. you drag your tongue along his jawline and pepper kisses down his neck, trace your fingertips along his pearlescent scars.

"god, joel," you moan, "so fuckin big, you feel so good."

"you even feel better than i remember, too."

"don't you dare stop, don't you dare stop fucking me-"

"never, baby. wanna have you like this always."

you can feel your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed with the sensation, with the tenderness and the care and the big cock fucking deep into you, it's all so good.

"yes baby," he grunts, "keep it open for me, good girl, letting me fuck you so nice."

you can see how his eyes are glittering and know he's emotional, too. he's staring at you with reverential awe that might embarrass you if it didn't feel so right. this isn't the rough, hair pulling, choking, biting sex you remember from him. he presses a hand over your belly and rubs gentle circles against it. his touch is electric.

"can't believe you made it," joel whispers, "made it all the way here, and you still want me. we've got a kid, and i left you all alone, and you still want me."

"always, joel," you tell him, and you realise it's the truth. whatever life you make for yourself, you want joel miller in it.

he lets out a growl and starts fucking you harder, deeper.

your orgasm builds quickly and soon you're clutching at his shoulder, leaving half moon crescents in his skin where your nails dig in, holding on for dear life.

"i'm gonna come," you tell him, and he holds you through it, his pace steady as your walls clench around his cock.

his hips begin to stutter as he loses his rhythm, nearing his own climax. he chokes out, "where do you want it?"

"my chest," you say, "come all over my tits."

he pulls out and strokes himself twice before spilling out on your chest, his cum landing on you in hot ropes.

after you catch your breath, he gently cleans you up and then pulls you into the crook of his arm, holding you close. you lay there together, just breathing.

"so gorgeous, momma," he says.

"not too bad yourself, daddy," you tell him, and he snorts.

you know you have a lot of things to talk about. the past seven years. the future. loss and love. violet getting to know her father.

for now, though, joel miller is in your bed and you're going to cherish every minute of it. it's more than enough.

[honeyhive65]

LIST OF MONSTERS/CREATURES FOR PUNCH OUT

Someone said I should post the list. I know it was one person but I wanna do it. I’ll also make concepts for their contender and TD matches (I only have joes which I’ll probably put here)

MINOR CIRCUIT

Glass Joe- originally was the only other human. Got turned into a vampire after trying to help someone near an alleyway. Woke up in the dumpster and still trying to adapt. Unfortunately never told his doctor about his predicament (he has woken up in the morgue multiple times).

Von Kaiser- a monster similar to Frankenstein monster. Some scientists wanted to create a boxer using the body parts of some of the best boxers they knew. Unfortunately the product did not meet their expectations and is sitting comfortably down in the minor circuit.

Disco Kid- a friendly zombie who recently rose from its grave. No memory of his life but recently rediscovered boxing, disco, and Micheal Jackson. Managed to be so inspired by thriller he likes to break it down right there in the ring. He’s a bit stiff but he’s still got that spirit in him.

King Hippo- nobody really knows why he came from the sea to land JUST to box. Maybe someone threw an old poster into the ocean and made its way to him. This sea beast may not speak any human language but he sure knows how to throw a punch. Stole clothes from a drowned sailor however the pants are a bit loose even on him.

MAJOR CIRCUIT

Piston Hondo- some people mistake this spirit for a yokai, however he’s just a regular looking ghost. In his life he was an excellent boxer. Most knew his training methods were extreme but nobody ever thought that he’d take “train til you drop dead” a little too seriously. Still he manages to haunt the WVBA determined to keep boxing.

Bear Hugger- he may seem like a human at first but there’s always that one day most people avoid taking a match with him. From evening to morning on a full moon is when his schedule is almost always free. Most people don’t want to get clawed by a werewolf but there have been a few who tried…let’s just say the results in the hospital weren’t pretty. (NOTE: despite the species rivalry, he’s actually pretty good friends with Joe. Being someone who was a human himself he tries his best to give as many tips as he can to adapt)

Great Tiger- a genie who tricked its master into freeing him, tiger now spends his freedom here in the WVBA. He never gives a straight answer for why he wanted to spend his free time here of all places but hey he’s happy at least. Enjoys human opponents the most since they’re the most easy to mess with.

Don Flamenco- did he come from outer space? Was he given a little too much fertilizer? Or perhaps he is just a nymph who lied about his origin. Don was a rose who somehow gained sentience and has taken a more humanoid form. The best way to find out how to be more human to him? Well boxing of course! He may be carnivorous though so watch your back.

WORLD CIRCUIT

Aran Ryan- with Joe now being a vampire, Aran has taken the place as the only human contender in the WVBA…at least before Mac joined. Despite this he seems just as freaky as the others. His superstition keeps him from bonding with the other boxers and maybe even some humans that occasionally join. He gets a little…paranoid.

Soda Popinski- Seeing an advertisement on the WVBA, this abominable snowman quickly left home to check it out. Coming out from his home, he quickly discovered his love for boxing and sugary sodas. It’s however too hot for him to look presentable so all he wears most times is a speedo.

Bald Bull- A Minotaur who’s been at the WVBA for what seems to be forever…at least to most people here. Some don’t even know when he joined and others never bothered to ask. Only exception is doc but he never seems to want to talk about it. He tends to enjoy time alone so best not to bother him or else you might find a horn in your chest.

Super Macho Man- Most people have to avoid being in the front of him and sometimes the sides due to one of his so called signature moves. Macho is a trans gorgon who thought that going into a sport involving punching one’s face was a good idea. You really couldn’t afford his sunglasses although best not to break them. You could end up cold as stone if you do. Where do you think all those decorative statues came from?

Sandman- not much is known about his species but he claims to be something called a dreamcatcher. A creature who can manifest dreams into reality. Nobody knew about it before he came along but what does matter is he seems friendly enough and has even taken a liking to that Gorgon just below his rank (SURPRISE SUPERSAND RAAAAAAH sorry. Also credits to @wvbaandtheboys for making the species/creature I used)

Okay that’s all also I’ll probably also make tempered glass for this. Why? Cause I can and I like the ship so I have to feed myself somehow. Also here’s the concept for joes contender and TD.

Contender- Mac got lucky and doc managed to talk Joe into a day match. A good beginning for someone’s career for Joe is a bit sluggish and looking like he’s on the verge of passing out. He may not burn up in the sun but it sure does exhaust him. Constantly drinking a mysteriously red substance during intermission.

Title defense- His poor unassuming doctor can’t understand how Joe keeps coming back from the dead. His vitals are all off but Joe insists it’s just a cold. His doctor decided to put him on a different diet to help him be healthier and maybe put some weight on those bones of his…unfortunately the doctor gave Joe a not so vampire friendly diet and Joe as slowly gone in a more crazed state from it. For the safety of the other boxers, the WVBA graciously gave Joe a makeshift muzzle from a helmet and something attached. He’s faster and more unpredictable in this state and will try and lunge at opponents to get something in his starving state. Not even the sun can stop him from getting a meal but hey the helmet protects his head at least! Just…try not too hit it too hard or that piece covering his mouth might detach.

[cbsxreader]

You go to a car rally with the mercs! Pt.1

I was at a WRC rally recently so this was inspired by that

Pt.1 ; Pt.2

Notes: Gn!Reader, can be interpreted as romantic or platonic!

Scout

Rally or motorsports in general is probably his second-favorite sport behind baseball, so you bet he wants to take you.

He makes a point to buy the overpriced food and merchandise, he says that it's a part of the experience. You end up leaving with nearly empty wallets and well-fed on fast food.

Scout insists on getting the front row and getting as close to the track as possible, but when he gets hit with a cloud of dust or rocks, he acts like it doesn't even bother him to impress you and then proceeds to cough his lungs out.

Also he probably gets trampled by a bunch of people somewhere in the whole experience, that's what I imagine could happen at a rally.

It comes back to bite you two in the ass when you realize getting the car as close to the watch area as you could makes you stuck in traffic from everyone trying to leave.

Soldier

As a proud, red-blooded American, of course he loves fast and loud cars, and especially so when they're competing with each other.

Brings his patriotic merch along to show his support and love for rally, it's especially prominent if there are other countries competing in the race. He'll be the one cheering the loudest for the American drivers.

Even if you arrive late, he pushes through the crowd to get you two the front. He also keeps the rocks and pebbles that hit him as souvenirs, no overpriced shirts for him, thanks.

Just keep an eye out for him and be a voice of reason because he might go to do something that's against the whole etiquette of the event like stepping over the barriers where you're not supposed to go.

If you want an autograph from one or multiple racers, he'll go out of his way to push through the line, pull the racers aside just for them to give you an autograph.

Pyro

Pyro would rather watch from a distance, it's a bit overwhelming for them with all the loud noises and closeness of many people around you. Yeah, they're a mercenary, but it's different when they can't do anything about it.

It's better for them to watch the big screen where they fly over the car in a helicopter or it's the drivers' POV and not mind the actual cars driving by.

After the rally, help them clean up their goggles from the dust that hits them.

They will draw a drawing of going to the rally with you afterwards and will keep the attendee bracelets (if the organizers hand them out) for the memory.

Just make sure you're not watching near where the cars start driving. Pyro might get an idea that might...upset the rest of the live viewers and if you lose sight of them, some drivers would not be in for a fun time.