#maybe i'll finish some of it someday. who knows

[glamfellens]

alexa play victorious by panic! at the disco

[scimitar-and-longsword]

NaNoWriMo 2023, 15 mins til go time!

It's been two years since I've been able to do this. I'm so excited!!

[somelazyassartist]

I need to make plushies of my little guys so badly. What I wouldn't give for a little Harmony or Hallows to hold

[vincentbriggs]

Another thing that had been on The Pile for some time was this velvet mite brooch, which I got out and finished today! I'm not entirely happy with it - the body is much too flat and the overall size is a bit bigger than I'd intended. But maybe someday I'll make another one that's smaller, with way more batting.

This red poly velvet had been in my stash for as long as I can remember and I don't know where it came from, but I'm glad I kept it even though I knew I wasn't likely to use it on actual clothing items. The legs are made from wire covered with little fabric tubes, and the body is 2 layers of buckram with some cotton batting, then another bit of covered buckram for the belly. I tried machine sewing the leg tubes at first, but it was a huge wonky mess, so they're all hand sewn.

I think it's much too big for a waistcoat, but could perhaps do on a jacket.

(For anyone who hasn't seen velvet mites, they're just as fuzzy and bright red as this, but plumper and more strawberry shaped. They're very very tiny and harmless. The ones I've seen in parks and on riverbanks are usually about 2mm long.)

[knoxic]

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x Reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6

summary: Azriel suspects Elain is his mate, reader is ignored, Rhysand and Cass are protective of reader

wc: 2,3k

warnings: Azriel... self hatred, insecurities

a/n: reader's nickname is Ace but there's no physical descriptions

It started subtly, coming home and not noticing her boyfriend's absence, too tired to notice, waking up to a cold and empty bed, brushing past it thinking Az must have been busy, even though he never mentioned anything. The first time you noticed he wasn't, it hit you like a slap to the face.

A family dinner was scheduled tonight, even though you had dinner with your family all the time, tonight was the only night of the month no one was allowed to miss. Rhysand made sure all of you would be free.

You had woken up early today, before the sun had risen, Azriel not being in bed with you didn't seem weird at all, Az often left the bed before the sun was up, he had trouble sleeping and once he woke it was hard to go back to sleep. After spending some time reading in bed you decided to make breakfast, after washing up you went downstairs, expecting to see containers of food left in the sink but there was none, so either Azriel hadn't eaten when he got home or he didn't come home at all. But again, she brushed it off, he probably had a good reason for it.

After eating breakfast, you went to change into your training clothes, just because it was an off day didn't mean you should skip training. Normally, you used a punching bag to literally beat your stress away but today you weren't even stressed, there wasn't even someone to keep you entertained, so training ended up being just boring.

Again, you came back to an empty home, no signs of your boyfriend. After a few minutes of staring at the walls you decided that perhaps a few hours in Velaris would be exciting, maybe you would visit Feyre's gallery. Walking through the streets is definitely a nice thing, the people passing by know who you are and what you do but still gave you friendly smiles. Watching the children play freely and unbothered made you wonder if, someday, your own children would be doing the same, little Illyrians terrorizing the streets of Velaris.

"Hey! Wasn't expecting you here today." Feyre's voice snapped you out of your daydream.

"Well, I'd rather spend hours looking at your paintings than the blank walls at home." You laughed.

"If that's the case then come with me, I just finished a new one." She slipped her arm through yours and pulled you further into the gallery. Fortunately for your boredom, Feyre had kept you busy the whole day, showing you her new artworks and even making you paint with her.

Hours later you were finally coming home, your feet screamed at you to sit down but you refused to winnow, not wanting to miss out on any new place that might have opened. You were so tired that your mind wasn't anywhere near Azriel, fully focused on resting as soon as you reached home. You only realized you had fallen asleep when the front door banged closed, your boyfriend's scent filling your nose.

"Az?" You sat up rubbing your tense neck, the couch, as comfortable as it was, was not meant for sleeping.

"Yeah, didn't know you were here." He seemed confused and... angry?

"Are you okay?" You slowly made your way towards him but he stepped back, turning towards the stairs.

"Fine, I'll go wash up for dinner, don't follow me." And with that he ran up. You took his anger as the result of his work, figuring that something had probably stressed him out.

Your eyes that were still foggy from sleep had finally cleared, allowing you to notice how dark the living room was, it was already night and you had probably slept for a couple hours. When you went up to bathe, you heard a loud bang from your bedroom. Azriel often isolated himself as to not take his anger out on anyone close to him, so you continued walking towards the guest bedroom, washing up in the adjoined bathroom. Only when you were finished did you make your way to your bedroom, the door was fully closed so you opened it carefully, the bathroom door was left open so Azriel was probably downstairs. You dressed up unhurried, taking the time to choose your clothes, fixing your hair and choosing shoes. When you went down, Azriel was nowhere to be seen, you called out to him but received no response, perhaps Rhys had called him?

'Rhys, is Azriel with you?' You asked, praying he would hear you.

'Yes, he said he thought you wouldn't come." Rhys answered, his voice oddly quiet, without its usual confidence. 'Are you two okay?'

'I– Yes? Well, I think so? Did he say anything?' Not once had it crossed your mind that your relationship was the cause of Azriel's stress, were you stressing him? If so, why didn't he say anything?

'Never mind. Are you coming?' Suddenly you weren't sure if you should, maybe Az had gone alone because he didn't want you there. 'Please come...'

Rhys pleaded, scaring you even more. Rhysand never pleaded.

'I don't know,' you were still standing in the middle of the living room, you could just winnow, but would your boyfriend want that? 'Maybe I should stay home tonight–'

'No. It's family dinner, fuck Azriel's dramatic ass, I don't know what's wrong with him but it's not your fault. You're coming, even if I have to go pick you up myself.'

𓂃

"My office, now." Rhysand's growl seemed to vibrate through his bones.

"Rhys–"

"No! Azriel." He walked out of the room, leaving Azriel to stare at his back, Elain kept gazing at him wide eyed. 'Come with me or I'll come to your girl, your choice.' His mind talons not bothering to make a gentle appearance.

Azriel left without looking back, still feeling Elain's gentle gaze following him. His heartbeat ringed in his ear, time seemed to pass by slowly as he walked the corridors to Rhys' office, darkness consuming the corners of every wall. The doors were left open showing his brother's back facing him, as soon as he entered they banged closed, before he said anything, Cassian winnowed beside him.

"What's wrong?" Cassian looked at them both, his hurried voice echoing through the silent room.

"Azriel was kissing Elain." Rhys turned to look at them both, giving Cassian a nod towards Az, his arms crossed against his chest while he leaned against the desk.

"I didn't–"

"You were going to!" Rhysand spat, making Azriel shut his mouth, he couldn't deny it.

"Wait–" Cassian stepped forward, watching as Az lowered his head, gasping when he realized it was true, "No fucking way! Did Ace break up with you?" Azriel's only response was a deep sigh.

"No, she didn't." Rhys answered for him.

"Brother..." Cassian's hand met Az' shoulder, "Why?" He was pissed but needed to know why Azriel was acting like that.

"I think–"

"Huh, you're not even sure." Rhys scoffed, shaking his head.

"I think Elain is my mate."

"What? Az, that's really serious..." Cass spoke softly, almost unsure. "Are you sure?"

"I– No, but it just makes sense!"

"How, Azriel?" Rhysand yelled, stepping closer to him. "How does it make sense? You've known Ace for centuries, been dating her for 80 years, you live with her! I swear I thought you were going to propose to her soon!" His hand met Azriel's sholder, shaking him. Rhys sighed, dropping his head and shoving Az away before turning back to sit on his chair.

"Az," Cassian started, "Does Ace know?"

"No, I don't know how to tell her." Az muttered the last part.

"You'll have to find a way. I don't know why you think Elain is your mate and not her but she deserves to know. Having a mate doesn't necessarily mean you two should be romantically involved, nor should you be anything at all, but it is clear that you're attracted to Elain and that's just... unacceptable."

"Why?" Azriel said exasperated, "Three brothers for three sisters, it just makes sense!" He yelled,banging his hands on Rhysand's desk.

"Are you insane?" Rhys yelled back, standing up from his chair. "You are in a relationship, Azriel! It doesn't matter if it makes sense, be responsible, she's not just a fling you had, you can't push her aside just because your cock gets hard around a pretty female. Ace is your girlfriend, has been for almost a century, the possibility of another female being your mate should not interfere in your relationship with her, it didn't have to. Elain could end up being just a great friend, or even better, Ace could be your mate..."

"If she was my mate, don't you think it would've snapped by now?" Azriel's question didn't really sound like a question.

"Is that all you heard from everything Rhys said?" Cassian looked incredulous.

"Azriel..." Rhysand's patient was slipping away. "I do not know what to say to make you understand–"

"There's nothing to understand, Elain is my mate and I want to be with her."

"Then fucking break up with Ace first!" Darkness crawling their way around them.

"What the fuck, brother?" Cassian yelled, for the first time that morning. "Didn't you learn anything from Mor leading you on all those centuries? You want to be with Elain? Fine, but break up with your girlfriend first. Just know that there's a lot in line here..." Silence enveloped the three of them, tension sitting heavy on their shoulders.

"Leave, go talk to Ace and fix this shit," Rhysand rubbed his temples, "Don't do to her what has been done to you."

𓂃

Azriel spent a few hours flying above Velaris, trying to forget about what had happened, he didn't know what he did wrong or why Rhysand was so upset. He decided to come back and talk with Elain first, then he'd talk with you, but Rhysand's talons scratched his mind walls as soon as he saw her, telling him to stay away from her until he broke up with you. When he got home he was so upset that you were the only thing keeping him from his possible mate, that when he saw you, he would definitely take his anger out on you. You were so relaxed and he was completely the opposite of that, your eyes puffy from sleep while his were bloodshot from the lack of it.

He couldn't stop the sudden hatred that consumed him at hearing your voice, he wasn't sure if it was directed at you or him, he spend the whole day resenting you while you were here worried about him. He couldn't stand the sound of your comforting voice, not while comparing it to Elain's, your eyes searching for his with so much love and he wondered when was the last time he really stared into them.

So he ignored you, he wasn't sure what he had answered you, his whole body aching with stress that he just wanted some form of release. Release that never came, he thought that by the time he finished bathing he'd feel better, but he didn't. Nothing seemed to work, the warm water did nothing to help soothe his muscles, and no matter how much he scratched, he still felt dirty.

Stepping out of the bathroom only angered him further, your scent still lingered even after hours of leaving the bed. Azriel didn't know what he'd do if you talked to him again, didn't know what he'd tell you, if he lied you would know, and if he didn't... you would be hurt.

𓂃

As soon as your eyes focused on the house, you wanted to winnow back home, but Rhys didn't give you a chance to do so. The front door being yanked open made you tear your eyes from the window, where you could see silhouette with wings, the smile your High Lord greeted you with was comforting. He was loyal to his brothers, if you had done something to upset Azriel, he wouldn't be smiling at you like that.

"You came!" He waved his hand, calling you inside.

"Someone threatened me." He laughed at your attempted joke, no humor filling your voice. As you walked closer to him, he pulled you into a hug, it didn't really seem like it was for you, his chin rested on your shoulder like you weren't almost half his size, it was comforting nonetheless. An exaggerated gasp pulled you away from each other's embrace.

"That's like the worse form of betrayal!" Cassian cried out, his hand that was resting on his chest reached out to push Rhysand away. "We could've had a family hug but you were selfish." His strong arms engulfing you into an embrace, lifting you off the ground, he let out a dramatic groan as if it had taken him so much effort to do so.

"Stop it, you're going to squeeze her." Rhys laughed, tapping his brothers shoulder.

"Jealous." Cassian whispered in your ear, making you giggle.

By the time Cassian set you back down, you had forgotten you were worried, if that was Rhysand's intention when he came to greet you at the door, it had worked. You were pulled inside by the hand, Cass gushing about all the things there were for dinner, his groovy voice muffling out a female giggle. The table was set only a few minutes after Cassian had sat her down, his conversation topics never ending. The first time she saw Azriel, he was coming out of the kitchen, right after Elain.

"She needed help with the dessert." Nesta muttered, her voice filled with something she couldn't exactly place. She couldn't dwell on it further, Azriel was looking at her now, his feet glued to the ground. It was clear he really wasn't expecting her to come.

[bmpmp3]

crawls into the room haggard and covered in blood. you can make anything you want with vocal synthesizers.

you can make anything you want with vocal synthesizers.

midi by Maelstrom!

[knightjpg]

Tending the Garden

Living by yourself on your little homestead gets lonely after your father's passing. And so, when you find a handsome wounded stranger alone and left for dead in the dust, you take pity on him. Oh, he'll leave again someday, you know that. Which would be fine—if only he wasn't so damned sweet.

tags: Javier Escuella/reader, pining, falling in love

part 1 | part 2

Christ, not again. 

“You better not be dead,” you tell the man lying crumpled in the dirt.

He doesn't stir. With a sigh you put your shotgun on your back and crouch down. 

Scrawny, filthy, and bloody. “What a sight you are,” you mumble, checking for a pulse. It's there, however faint. When you turn the man over you see a young, handsome face; black, half-long hair, a nose that's definitely been busted at least once, and a faint scar across his left eyebrow. He's wearing a tattered poncho, its colours old and faded.  

You sling his arm over your shoulder and whistle for Copper, who obediently trots closer. As an afterthought you grab the man's sombrero and push it onto his head more securely. 

“Alright, girl,” you soothe your horse while hoisting the man over her rear. “Let's get home.” 

You were heading that way, anyway, your little hunting trip yielding two fat rabbits in the traps you'd laid out some days ago. You're not used to catching less, not yet; it’s only been a few weeks since your father passed. 

Maybe that's what moves you to take the stranger with you—the strange bouts of loneliness that have plagued you ever since the funeral.  

Fortunately the stranger isn't seriously injured save for the angry, fresh wound around his neck and some cuts and bruises. You wrap him up in poultice and bandages and put him in your father’s bed; the rest is up to him. 

As for yourself, you set to skinning the rabbits and preparing the meat, curing it and hanging it out to dry to add to your stock of provisions in the cellar. Part of it you set aside to prepare for a late dinner, humming as your knife makes quick work of your home-grown vegetables. 

It's a quiet life out here, in the middle of the grassy hills and patches of dense forest. Redwood's less than an hour away by horse, and you go there on occasion to sell your pelts and buy the few supplies you can't fashion yourself at the little homestead you've lived in all your life.

That said... since your old man died you have to admit you're struggling a little managing it all by yourself. 

When you set aside the now finished stew on the old, wooden table you can see the barn from the window across you, and it's not in a good state. You've been meaning to get around to the repairs, just—after the funeral... it's been hard. 

You eat slowly. The crackle of the fireplace, the clink of your spoon against your plate, and the familiar creaks of the house withstanding the blustery winds of spring are your only companions. Your potatoes are doing nicely; so are your carrots and onions. Might be time to get started on those tomatoes soon... Maybe squash this year, too. 

You're pulled out of your musings when the door to your father's bedroom creaks open and two guarded, dark eyes meet yours. 

You reach for the shotgun lying next to your plate. The man's eyes widen and he takes a hesitant step back. “’S alright, stranger,” you say. “Just makin’ sure you don't repay my kindness by tryna slit my throat. How you feelin'?” 

Your tone is gentle, yet the man hovers near the doorframe, clearly unsure of how to proceed. He's undeniably of Mexican heritage; maybe he doesn't speak English too well? You offer a smile, patting the chair next to you. “You hungry? Food?” 

His eyes light up at that and he nods.  

“Alright. Take a seat and I'll get you a plate.” You stand up, strapping your shotgun over your back. Just in case. Don't you trust no one, girl, your father always told you. It's what's kept you alive until now and you're intending to keep it that way. 

The man shuffles forward and slowly takes a seat on the hard wooden chair. As soon as you put a plate down he inhales the food in front of him with such gusto it draws a surprised laugh out of you. “'S that why you were lyin’ in the dirt out cold?” You shake your head. “Poor bastard. Well, eat your fill.” 

You hand him water as well as whiskey, both of which he accepts graciously. Once he's polished his first helping and starts on the second, you ask him his name. He looks up, cheeks near bursting, and your lips quirk up. You gesture to yourself, introduce yourself, and then, with an encouraging raise of your eyebrows, nod to him. 

“My name, Javier,” he says with his mouth full, pointing to his chest.  

“Nice t’meet you, Javier.” You touch your own neck and pat your abdomen in the spot where Javier got an especially nasty cut. “How's that feelin’?” 

He understands, mirroring you by touching his bandaged neck. “Thank you,” he says earnestly, his accent curled thickly around his words. Not exactly what you meant, but you'll take that to mean it's bearable. 

You let him be, then, content to watch him eat until he's satisfied. When he's done your eyes linger on his dirt-stained fingers. Actually, forget his fingers—he's covered in grime from tip to toe.

“You wanna wash up? There's a water pump just outside.” When he looks at you uncomprehending you get up, scraping your chair back over the hard wooden floor, and gesture with your hand. “Come. Outside. What's it called—? Agua.” 

That seems to land. He follows you, and once you work the pump to fill a wooden pail you leave him to it with a nod. After heading back inside you rummage around in your late father's meagre belongings and pull out a shirt and some jeans that will surely be too big on Javier. Well, at least they'll be clean. 

“Javier!” you call out before rounding the back. “You decent? Got you some clothes.” 

His voice carries back to you in some kind of affirmation and you step around the corner of the house. You're not quite prepared to see him shirtless, however, and for a moment your eyes linger on the expanse of his back narrowing into slender hips. You tear your gaze away from him the moment he turns, thrusting the clothes into his waiting still-wet hands. “Here.” 

“Gracias,” he says, his lips curling in an appreciative smile. It strikes you then just how handsome he looks with his hair dripping wet and little rivulets streaming down the hollow of his neck. His dark eyes regard you with a curious intensity in the beat that passes before you excuse yourself and head back inside. 

Javier returns looking much cleaner, sleeves rolled up around his forearms and jeans tucked neatly into his scuffed boots. He allows you to take his dirty clothes from him and you set them aside for tomorrow's washing. Then you gesture him to sit down, checking to make sure his bandages haven't gotten wet or displaced; but it looks like he was careful, and you don't need to redo any of your work. 

“Rest,” you tell him before moving back to the kitchen to clean up the dishes. When he shakes his head and follows you to the sink you raise an eyebrow. 

“Quiero agradecerte por salvarme. I help you,” he says, gesturing. You snort, pushing his hands away. 

“Ain't nothin’ for you to do ‘side from sit pretty ‘nd heal up.” His brow furrows at that, and you smile, nodding to the kitchen table. “Why don't you sit and tell me what happened to you? Y’looked a fright when I found you.” 

When he remains quiet you look back over your shoulder and see a shadow has fallen over his face, his shoulders tense and drawn up. You hum in understanding, drying your hands on a towel before leaning your hips back against the counter. “Where you headed next, then?” you ask gently. “You got someplace to go?” 

He shakes his head, eyes downcast on his hands folded across his lap. 

“Well. I could use a hand with the barn,” you muse. “Reckon I can let you stay a while if you help me out ‘round here.” 

He looks up that, brows upturned in a hesitant, hopeful expression. “Stay?” he repeats. 

“Sure,” you smile. “You help me, and you stay.” 

—

With some rest and care Javier makes a quick recovery, and after a while of having three hot meals a day his strength returns. His scrawny figure fills into lean, wiry muscle, following your every request with an eagerness to please that never fails to makes you smile. 

He helps fix the barn with you, and when that's done he moves onto a leaky part on the roof. He helps plant you tomatoes by day, and during the evenings you help him practice his English. You ask him to teach you Spanish in return. There are several times you both end up laughing by what essentially turns into a strange game of charades. 

“Ah, cómo describirlo... You sit on a horse.” 

“Ridin'?” you offer. 

“No, no... The chair on the horse...” 

You bite your lip to keep yourself from chuckling. “The saddle?” 

“Sí!” a smile breaks through on his face, pleased you've understood. And so on. You talk about anything that comes up; the chores you do, the vegetables you plant, the animals you catch. You lend him the few books you have, once having belonged to your mother, and read to him while explaining the words best you can.  

Javier doesn't talk about his past nor what he's running from, but that's fine. As long as he doesn't lead trouble to your doorstep a man has a right to his secrets. And though he clearly has moments where he struggles with a heavy sadness weighing upon his shoulders, Javier slowly becomes livelier. 

Sweet spring air with its budding green things lifts your own mood, too. Weeks roll into months, and both of you settle into your comfortable new normal; for as long as it'll last. You don't know what Javier has in mind for his future, but you're assuming he'll probably want to move on from here at some point. It's what makes you force yourself to look away from the way he pulls his ever-growing hair back into a ponytail, forearms flexing when he ties it secure. 

It's also to this end that you share your earnings from what you sell in town, insisting he has a right to it; it was a team effort, after all, wasn't it? It's a joy to see him look down at the money he's earned with his own hands, awe and gratitude lining his face. 

Javier's not the best at hunting or tracking, but he takes to fishing, and you're happy your father's fishing kit will get to see some use rather than collect dust in a corner. He's skilled with a knife too, and your usual workload of skinning and cutting is easily halved. 

“You know, I been thinkin',” you tell him one evening, seated across each other like usual on your couch. “’Bout getting some chickens. Lotsa fresh eggs every day. We'd have little chicks runnin’ ‘round, too. What you think?” 

Javier nods. “We have to build a chicken house.” 

“That's right, a chicken coop. You up for it?” 

“Claro. Tell me when we start.” 

It feels natural, to have these kind of idle conversations with him. To plan, to dream a little. With the rising temperatures Javier often works in the garden shirtless, his hat shielding his face from the sun. You're not sure if it's a blessing or a curse. Several times you feel the desire to reach out and smooth your hands over his skin, to taste the sweat a day's work has collected in the nape of his neck. 

One time Javier catches you, and you're not sure he believes the half-coherent excuse you give him. Good Lord, you need to get yourself together. 

There other moments where you swear lightning takes a hold of you. When you climb down the ladder from fixing the roof his hands steady your hips. When you pore over the English books he painstakingly works his way through he's so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. When you harvest the vegetables in your garden his fingers brush against yours.

Has it been that long since you've been touched? 

It gets to the point you saddle up Copper to go into Redwood just to be away from him and the homestead for a day. You go out to town every few months to stock up on a larger amount of goods and supplies; you're on friendly terms with the general store's assistant, Jimmy, and he's always happy to drive you back with a wagon full of things to last you a good while. 

Copper nuzzles your hand affectionately and you stroke her neck, slipping her an apple. Javier spots you and jogs over, smile bright. “Are you leaving?” 

He's wearing a blouse today, the first couple buttons undone. His collarbones dip so beautifully along his shoulders, and when he wipes the sweat off his forehead the fabric stretches around his muscles. You swallow, mouth feeling dry.  

This is the whole reason you have to head out. Clear your head. Talk to some other people that don't have glittering dark eyes and crooked smiles and stupidly attractive laughs. 

You focus on strapping on Copper's saddle while you answer Javier. “Yep. Time to stock up on some things. I'll be gone for the day, so watch the house for me, won't you?”  

“Of course,” Javier nods. “For the chicken house? Ah, coop?” 

“That's right,” you smile. “I'm gettin' us the materials and some chicks to start out with. A rooster, too. So no more sleepin’ in late,” you add with a little grin. 

Javier groans, but it's in good humour. “Monta con seguridad. Ride safe.” 

“Always do.” 

It's wonderful to feel the breeze on your skin as you ride, and once you reach town you find it was the right call. There's plenty to distract you, though Javier never quite leaves the forefront of your mind. When you get to the general store and greet Jimmy, who gets the catalogue ready for you to place your order, you can't help but add a few clothing items you think Javier might be in need of. You've noticed he enjoys taking care he looks nice, fussing with his hair and polishing his boots, and while your late father's clothes are sturdy and durable they don't possess a lick of fashionable flair. 

A bandana, a vest, leather boots with finely stitched patterns, several blouses... You hardly notice how much attention you're pouring into it when Jimmy chuckles and nods to the pages you're so intently poring over. “Never thought that was quite your style, sugar.” 

Your cheeks grow warm. “Oh—No, that ain't it. I've... Well. I got a wanderin’ stranger on my hands, and I feel obliged to him. Helped me out a lot, now that my Pa is gone and all...” 

Jimmy's surprise melts into understanding. “’Course. You look like you're doin’ a lot better though—just be careful of strangers.” 

“Don't worry. Ain't no one gonna get the jump on me.” 

You pick out the rest of your items, and once you're satisfied you have all you'll need Jimmy tells you he'll start loading up the wagon for you. “I'll take a bit, sugar, so feel free to come on back in a while.” 

You take the opportunity to sell your furs and take a stroll around Redwood, noting the subtle changes that present themselves after not having visited for a while. The saloon has a fresh coat of paint; there’s a new butcher in town. Stores have swapped out their previous goods for things more currently in style.

Behind one of the storefronts’ windows a fine, dark bowler hat catches your fancy, and you imagine Javier wearing it along with his crooked little grin. You exit the store only minutes later, feeling foolish and yet helpless when you imagine his delight at your gift. 

After killing some time in the local saloon you find your way back to the general store, pleased to see Jimmy's loading up the last couple items. He helps you onto the front bench of the wagon, and then you're rattling off. Copper obediently follows behind. 

“Saw you got some chicks 'n a rooster, miss. Think they'll do real well for ya...” 

Jimmy's small talk is pleasant, and you're almost surprised at how quickly your little homestead comes into view again. It never fails to make you feel comforted, to see the squat little buildings and the garden nestled among the hills. 

Jimmy insists on helping you off the wagon again; “You're a lady, I gotta treat you well,” and you allow him with a bemused smile. Only when your feet touch the grass again do you spot Javier from the corner of your eye, holding your shotgun and wearing a much darker expression than you're accustomed to seeing on him. 

He slowly steps closer, dark eyes boring into Jimmy's hand still holding onto yours. 

“Javier!” you call out with a smile. “It's alright, put that gun away, now. This is Jimmy; the feller I told you about.” You turn back to Jimmy, thanking him again for taking the trouble with the deliveries. 

Javier's frown doesn't disappear, however, not even when you gently touch his elbow, asking him to take Copper to the barn while you unload. Jimmy hangs back nervously, eyes darting between you and Javier. He helps you unload quickly, and when you ask if he'd like to stay for dinner he shakes his head.  

“I'd best be goin', miss. You take care now,” and with a tip to his hat the wagon rattles off again. You watch him leave, then turn around to raise an eyebrow at Javier. 

“Ain't like you to be so unfriendly.” 

Javier looks away, an unhappy frown tugging at his lips. “This man is touching you too much.” 

You blink. “Jimmy? Oh, he's harmless. Known him for years; he's always been a good kid.” When Javier's frown remains you chuckle, gesturing for him to follow you. “Alright, alright. Come on, let's go inside. I got somethin’ for you.” 

That piques his interest. “What is it?” 

“Un sombrero,” you grin, then think for a second. “...Algo así.” Ain't really a sombrero, exactly... 

“Algo así?” Javier's lips curl upward. “Me estás dando curiosidad.” 

“Just wait till you see it.” The cool interior of the house feels wonderful after riding in the sun and you exhale, removing your hat and running your fingers through your hair in relief. 

Javier obediently lets you direct him to sit on the couch while you sort through the boxes. When he’s presented with the clothes you picked for him you can hardly take your eyes off of him: Javier's whole face is aglow with delight. 

“I might have to make some adjustments to make ‘em fit you well,” you tell him when he holds up his new blouses to his chest. 

“Estos son maravillosos!” Javier beams. He's especially taken with the boots, his fingers tracing the delicate stitching. He looks up at you, eyes softening. His smile is a beautiful thing. “Muchas gracias, señorita.” 

That damn fluttery feeling in your chest... “Now close your eyes, mister. Got one last thing to complete the picture.”  

You're made to eat those words. When Javier obediently closes his eyes it's so tempting to reach out and put a hand to his cheek, to touch a thumb to his lips... It takes real effort to tear yourself away from these thoughts and instead open the hat box, unwrapping the bowler hat from its crinkling, protective paper, and to put it on Javier's head. His hair tickles the back of your hand as you do, and maybe you're imaging it, but you swear there's a little hitch in his breath when your fingertips graze his temple. 

He looks every bit as dashing as you'd pictured. “Well, well,” your smile seeps into your voice. “Ain't you a fine-lookin' gentleman. Here's a mirror—open your eyes, señor Javier.” 

He does, eyes widening in surprise and then crinkling in happy delight as he sees the hat adorning his head. He turns this way and that, admiring the fine make and material in the small mirror you're holding up in front of him. 

“Tell me if it don't please you, and 's no hard feelings,” you reassure him, but that statement is met with such an indignant expression you laugh. Javier gets up from his chair, taking your free hand in his. His mouth curves into a sweet smile, and the fact that it's aimed at you warms your cheeks far too much. 

“Cariño,” Javier murmurs, his tone one so gentle as you've not heard before. “¿Para qué es todo esto? ¿Para consentirme?” 

You scrunch your nose, brows knitting together. “Them's too many words I don't know...” 

To your surprise Javier lifts your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles. “You are very good to me.” 

You let out a soft little “oh,” and when Javier's gaze on you lingers you fluster, pulling your hand from him and turning away, pretending to be busy with the few supplies still strewn across the kitchen table. “Well, I—I just couldn't bear seein’ you wear your clothes to rags ‘s all.” 

All you hear in response is a little chuckle, but it makes you feel entirely too pleased. 

—

“Do you go—often? In town?” Javier asks you over dinner. Mashed potatoes, summer salad, smoked rabbit. It's a lovely spread, garnished with the flavours of your little herb garden. 

“Not often, no. Why? You miss Jimmy already?” you tease. 

Javier wrinkles his nose in distaste, and you laugh. “I do not miss Jimmy.” 

“Well, maybe you'll warm up to him. Most folk in town ain't too bad, really.” 

“¿Te gusta él—Jimmy?” Javier's tone is casual, almost disinterested. But when you look at him he's awaiting your answer with the watchful eye of a hawk.

“Él es un amigo,” you reply easily. “A friend. My Pa was fond of ‘im too.” 

Javier does a little “hm”, then goes back to poking at his food. You nudge his foot with your own, forcing him to look back at you. 

“What's the matter? You were so happy earlier.” 

“I am happy,” Javier rushes to reassure you. His hand reaches out to touch yours, and when you turn your palm up instinctively to catch his fingers he finally smiles. “Nothing is wrong.” 

After dinner and cleaning up you sit outside, side by side. The air is finally starting to cool. Cricket song hums in the air, the dying light of the sun smattering its final red hues on the evening sky. You share a bottle of whiskey between the two of you, exchanging small talk about the garden. 

When the conversation trails off you watch Javier, his expression serious and thoughtful, gaze resting on the horizon. Not for the first time it fills you with a strange, sad sort of feeling. He'll leave you here someday, and that day is bound to come sooner rather than later. 

“Say,” you speak up. “We should get you a horse.” 

It's almost like you want him to leave. Might be better if he did, actually. You're not in too deep, not yet—or so you tell yourself. You can still let him go. 

“A horse?” Javier looks at you, smiling with intrigue. 

You shrug, trying to appear casual. “Yeah. We could go out ridin’ together if you like.” 

“I would like that.” 

And so plans are made for a visit to a ranch just outside of Redwood. You weren't expecting to be returning that way so soon, but oh well. Not like it'll kill you. 

...Actually, no, it might kill you. Javier's strong arms wrapped around your waist to keep steady when you mount Copper are going to be the death of you. He's already seated just behind the saddle, and the way he instinctively reaches out to help you up doesn't help the stutter of your heartbeat in the slightest. 

A puff of his breath tickles your neck, and you're suddenly very glad he can't see your face. Lord forgive you, but his hands... 

“Ready?” you ask, your voice coming out slightly higher pitched than usual. And when Javier murmurs “Ready,” close to your ear you have a hard time suppressing a shiver. 

Thank God for Copper's easy and dependable nature, because even when you're more distracted than usual by your very attractive cargo your journey goes smoothly. Javier's dressed himself up in his fine new clothes, including his new bowler hat, and he polished his boots till they were shining. 

When you arrive at the ranch he slips off Copper first so he can take your hand as you dismount. “Gracias, señor,” you smile, and he grins. 

Your playful smiles slip when you see the way the ranch hand that's coming to meet you is eyeing Javier. In response Javier ducks his head, letting his hat cover his face in shadow and keeping his eyes to the ground. His tension is a palpable thing. You give the ranch hand a curt greeting, not missing the way his eyes flick between the two of you with wary apprehension. 

“We'd like to take a look at your horses,” you say. Best to move the conversation along quickly, now. “Nothing fancy, for ridin’ 'nd workin’.” 

The ranch hand eyes Javier. “For this greaser?” 

Javier looks up at him for a second, brief surprise followed by muted anger. Christ. Of course he'd know that word without you having to teach him.  

“For my friend. You mind your mouth, boy,” you tell the ranch hand in a clipped tone. The man gives you an odd look. You don't care. 

“Alright then... Follow me,” he says, and though he makes no additional comments about Javier, the way the ranch hand glances back at him says enough. 

“We'll be fine from here,” you're all too happy to dismiss him when he's led you to the available horses. Then, turning to Javier in a much gentler tone. “Alright, darlin'. You take a look and see if there's any you like.” 

The endearment slips out so naturally you surprise yourself. If Javier notices he doesn't say anything; he just nods, focusing his attention on the horses. Poor man. Running from God knows what and then shunned because of his heritage. 

You join Javier, watching him walk past the horses with a concentrated little frown furrowing his brow. When he stops in front of a grey-and-white American Paint he finally smiles a little, stroking the stallion's neck. He catches your gaze, and you nod encouragingly. 

“Fine breed. Learns quickly. Just like you—but a lot more obedient,” you smile, eyes soft so he knows you're teasing. Javier turns his head to you slightly, the tension momentarily lifting from his shoulders. A little grin curls around his lips, crooking it in that way that lately never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

“Then I will take him.” 

He pays for the horse himself, looking proud that he's able to. He shushes and pats the horse gently, telling that its name is Boaz, now, and if he'll be a good horse for Javier he'll get some treats when they get home. 

Javier looks so genuinely happy with himself as he rides Boaz you can't bring yourself to mourn the loss of his arms around your waist. This is good; this is a good thing. He has clothes, money, a horse. Everything he needs to get on with his life and leave you behind as a brief but kind memory. 

The two of you ride slowly, letting Boaz adjust to his new owner and to you and Copper. You don't talk much on the way home, letting Javier fill the silence with excited chatter about Boaz. The barn will just be perfect for him, plenty of space, and Javier is sure Copper will be happy to have a friend, too, and maybe once Boaz gets used to Javier he can race you, you know, friendly competition, but if he wins then maybe you could make that apple pie again? 

“Claro,” you smile, feeling both wistful and endeared with Javier's boyish grin. The way his eyes light up at the promise of your cooking. “...I'm sorry ‘bout what happened earlier,” you add in a much more serious tone. “And I'm sorry if I should've left it to you. Ain't like I think you can't stand up for yourself.” 

Javier shakes his head. “It is not a new thing,” he tells you. “Thank you.” 

You wave your hand. “My pa always used to say people's people. Don’t matter what they look like—we all get hungry 'n thirsty 'n tired.” 

Javier hums, seemingly pulled into deeper thought by your words, and the rest of the way home you ride in silence. You're not sure what's on his mind save for that he seems vaguely troubled, his mind miles away. Must be about his past. 

You let him be when you get back, wanting him to have the space without someone prodding at him. He spends a lot of time with Boaz the rest of the day and you busy yourself with your own chores. But you eat together outside in the warm summer evening, as always, even if Javier's still caught in his pensive mood. You don't mind the silence anyhow. You look over the grass waving in the wind, the soft sounds of chickens drifting from their coop. Your eye rests on your garden with a mix of contentment and pride, and absentmindedly you let yourself be pulled into musings of what to plant next and where. Peas do well this time of year. 

You startle when Javier starts to speak. “I came to America because I killed a man in Mexico.” You turn to him as he talks. His eyes are set on the horizon, softening orange and reds announcing the end of another day. “Powerful man. If I stayed everyone I loved would die. I was afraid when I got here—I had nothing except fear. I was starving. Weak. ...Alone.” 

Javier looks at you, finally. His dark eyes are pained, grave. So that's what happened to him before you found him. You'd wondered, of course. The scar around his neck that he hides with his bandana. His wariness, his guarded gaze when he meets someone new.  

So he killed a man. You wonder if you should be frightened of him—beautiful Javier with his sometimes sad eyes, who calls your chickens ‘ladies’ and who hums while he brushes Copper for you; who burns his fingers and his tongue because he's too impatient to wait for your pies to cool, and who fusses over the wrinkles in his blouses. 

You can't bring yourself to be. 

“I thought I'd die crossing the desert. I thought I'd be killed here—instead I was simply starving because nobody cared.” He puts his plate beside him, the spoon clattering against the ceramic with a soft clink. Reaches for your hand, hesitant, slow. “You cared.” 

Without thinking about it you turn your palm upwards to take his hand, and his fingers hold onto you tighter when you do. Compassion and sympathy pinch your brow. “Then I'm glad I found you when I did.” 

“You saved my life,” Javier replies. His tone is so soft, and it squeezes your heart. Oh, the soft feelings pooling in your chest—you can't, you shouldn't. You attempt a smile, trying to force levity into your voice. 

“And you paid me back ten times over with all the work you done ‘round here.” You hesitate. Try to burn the feeling of the weight of his hand in yours into your memory. “...You're free to go where you like now.” 

The way he smiles at you then makes you wonder if he understood what you meant, but somehow you just can't bring yourself to ask. 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

personal confessions. [2/3] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you met to celebrate, but your conversation took a dangerous turn

Warnings:  (+18) smut, some understatements, a few curses, oral sex (m receiving), some kissing, a little bit of angst and fluff, , Sarah mentioned, Tommy is there too

A/N: it took me some time. i'm not completely satisfied, because the last few days have been quite difficult for me mentally. but i created something like this.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[part 1]

"Good morning, ma'am!"

You looked up from your computer and into Tommy's smiling face.

"I see you had a good weekend." You replied, following with your eyes as the man went to the kitchenette to make himself some coffee.

"Yep, definitely!" he replied, sticking his head out and grinning at you. "And you?"

"Rather boring."

Tommy leaned against the door frame and looked at you with a wary gaze. He was completely different from his older brother. You had worked together for a long time, you were used to his style of being and his jokes really amused you, although Joel usually rolled his eyes at him then. But the atmosphere between you was really good, so working for Millers was a pleasure for you.

"Sorry, honey, but you looked like a million bucks last Friday. How on earth did you not manage to pick up anyone?" he asked, lifting the cup of coffee to his lips "If you'd let me..."

The door suddenly slammed and Joel entered, carrying a stack of invoices that he immediately placed on your desk.

"You've already had your coffee." he muttered, glancing at his brother.

"But I haven't had such nice company." Tommy nodded in your direction "Joel, can you imagine, she didn't pick up anyone on Friday? You saw how good she looked. How is that possible?"

"Tommy, please." You groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

"It's none of our business." Joel replied, but he only gave you a quick glance "Besides, she has someone, right?"

Your eyes met for a moment. You hadn't had any contact with him since Friday.

What were you supposed to tell him? You'd been thinking about what had happened between you all weekend, and your pussy was clenching at the mere memory of his fingers inside you. Damn, it hasn't been easy.

"But..."

"Tommy, we really don't have time for this now. We have to go to a client." Joel interrupted him nervously and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "He's already called me twice."

"A package arrived for you. The courier brought it first thing in the morning." You mumbled, pointing to the box standing by the window.

"Great! I'll take it, and you, Tommy, finish your fucking coffee and get down to the car. I'm not waiting for you."

You both jumped when the door slammed again. Tommy took another sip of coffee and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I don't know what got into him." he said, smiling apologetically. "He's a little nervous."

You waved your hand dismissively and reached for the invoices in front of you. "Don't worry. It's Monday."

You both looked up as a loud honking sound reached your ears.

"He'll kill me someday. Bye!"

The day went by slowly. You buried yourself in invoices, had to answer a few calls and contact a few clients. It wasn't until around lunchtime, when you had to call Joel about a delivery that was supposed to show up at his place of work, that you realized something was wrong.

The familiar sound of the phone ringing echoed through the office. You started picking up more papers and soon you spotted Joel's phone, which he had left on your desk.

"Shit." you hissed.

Joel always had his phone with him. In case it was a client, a supplier or someone from Sarah's school calling. However, the display showed zero new calls, so at least that problem was solved.

Using your phone, you called Tommy, who answered after a few rings.

"Sorry, darling." he sighed. "I had to go to the store in another city. I'll be gone for a few more hours. Maybe you could take it to him yourself, huh? When that grump realizes he doesn't have his phone, he'll be even more unbearable."

"Yeah, I think I'll do that." You mumbled, rubbing your temple with your hand. You weren't sure if you were ready to meet Joel. "Thanks, Tommy."

You threw Joel's phone into your purse and left the office, feeling your stomach tighten.

You saw a familiar car in the driveway of the house and parked nearby. No other cars. It was time for lunch, so the guys who were helping the Millers went out for a meal. Joel clearly preferred to stay put.

"Joel?" your voice echoed through the empty hallway. "It's me. Where are you?"

You heard the echo of footsteps and after a moment you saw a familiar figure at the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here? Did something happen?" he asked, clearly concerned.

You shook your head and headed up the stairs towards him. "No, you just left your phone in the office. I called Tommy, but he suggested I bring it myself." You pulled out your phone and handed it to him.

"Thanks, you didn't have to."

"I know you, Joel. You'd tear this house apart thinking you'd lost it. If Sarah had called or someone important..."

"Thanks."

He noticed how curiously you were looking around the interior. You were rarely at their place of work, mostly taking care of office matters. Something that scared him and Tommy, and you did it perfectly.

"Would you like to look around?" he asked, your eyes lighting up.

"May I?"

"The guys are at lunch. I just wanted to finish something." he scratched the back of his neck. "C'mon, no one minds."

He led you inside, showing you the bathroom and a couple of bedrooms they were renovating. The smell of wood and paint filled every place, and your footsteps echoed.

Finally, you stopped in the last room, what must have been the master bedroom.

"So..." you began a little hesitantly. "Would you like to talk?"

Joel was visibly avoiding your gaze. "I guess we have nothing to talk about, huh?"

"Oh. I thought..." a cold shiver ran down your spine even though the room was quite stuffy.

Joel folded his arms across his chest, his faded T-shirt tightening more on his broad shoulders. He took a defensive position, it was the safest.

"We had a few drinks last Friday." he began, and with each word that left his mouth, you felt worse and worse. "We got carried away a bit, but I think we should go back to how it was."

"You mean..."

"I'm your boss, you work for me."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. Ooh!" you snorted. "Somehow this whole boss-employee thing didn't stop you from burying your fingers in my pussy up to the knuckles."

The tips of his ears burned, Joel swallowed hard. This wasn't what he expected. The memory of that evening had haunted him ever since, and this conversation was a nightmare come true.

He was already blaming himself for having too high hopes for you, for what had happened. Meeting you after all that was already awkward enough. And you wanted to talk. So he bounced the ball to your side of the court.

"I thought Jack really missed you." Joel grumbled. "That bouquet was fucking impressive. So, are you back together?"

"No."

Finally, his warm brown eyes looked at you. Something strange flashed in them, his face twitched.

"No?" he repeated after you.

You shook your head. "I didn't lie to you, Joel. It was over and no, not even a fucking impressive, bouquet of flowers would change that."

"I'm sorry." Joel lowered his head, clearly embarrassed. "I thought that..."

“Yeah, I get it.” You shrugged. “See, I did it for myself. That doesn’t mean I wanted to take advantage of you or anything…”

"I didn't think about it that way." he felt more and more embarrassed. "It was our mutual decision, right? We both wanted it. I... I really like you. I think you're an amazing woman..."

You smiled, and a heavy stone fell from his heart. One of your smiles could make his day better, and now he really needed it. The atmosphere clearly lightened.

"I like you too, Joel. And everything I told you back then was true." You approached him slowly, not taking your eyes off him. "I wanted to try, you know. Give it a chance and see where it will take us. Is that stupid?"

He shook his head. "I acted like a dick, didn't I?"

"No, you didn’t. All we had to do was talk."

You were standing so close that he could clearly smell your perfume. A sense of relief filled his heart, as if he was a few pounds lighter. He cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Would you let me invite you to dinner or something?"

"I'm not sure." you frowned, and his heart beat anxiously "You see, Joel... We still have some unfinished business. And I'd like to give you something back. Something I didn't give you last time."

What business? What were you supposed to give him? His mind was blank. 

The face of the girl standing in front of him was unreadable. It was only when your fingers grabbed the buckle of his belt and pulled lightly that he understood. His cock twitched in his jeans, clearly aroused.

"I... You don't have to, sweetie." he mumbled, confused.

"You don't want to?" you seemed so sweet to him when you pout your lips, pretending to be sad.

"Fuck. I dream of nothing else, but..."

He didn't have time to finish, your fingers deftly unbuttoned his belt, and then slid inside, stroking his already hard manhood. Joel sucked in a loud breath through clenched teeth.

"Can I?"

He barely heard the question, but nodded quickly. Strong hands grabbed your face as he kissed you hard, when you lightly slid his jeans down. His hard cock popped out, its tip already shiny and swollen.

Joel wasn't holding you back anymore. He watched as if through a haze as you knelt down in front of him, licked your hand and stroked him gently. A quiet "Fuck!" slipped from between his lips.

You grabbed it confidently, moving your hand up and down. His cock was impressive and a pleasant excitement appeared between your thighs at the thought of how good it would be to feel it inside you. Now, however, you wanted to give him what he deserved.

You licked his tip, then took it into your mouth, sucking lightly. A slightly salty aftertaste filled your mouth. You closed your eyes, pushing it deeper, you didn't even feel when Joel's hand brushed your hair away and held you.

"Wait." he panted. "This is better than what I thought... Fuck."

He needed time. It had been a while since someone had taken care of him like this, he was afraid he would finish sooner than he wanted. 

But you seemed to sense it. Your tongue gently stroked his cock as you slid it in and out of your mouth. 

Joel's quiet moans filled the room. His hips began to move, slowly so as not to hurt you. When you took him so deep that you felt him at the back of your throat, and your nose touched his lower abdomen, his fingers in your hair tightened.

"Fuck. Fuck..." he panted. "Your mouth will be the death of me, baby... I won't last long."

You moaned quietly, and the vibrations went straight to his core.

You opened your eyes and saw Joel's dark as night gaze. His brows furrowed, his chest heaving violently. He cursed again quietly as your hand grabbed his balls, caressing them.

He was close, you could feel it. His hips pushed his cock into your mouth, but he was still trying not to hurt you. When you choked and tears welled up in your eyes, Joel immediately withdrew.

"I'm sorry, fuck, you feel so good... Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head "No, it's fine. Don't worry about me."

Your lips wrapped around his cock again, and Joel tilted his head back. He didn't need much.

"Shit! I'm gonna come, baby..." he gasped with difficulty "If you don't want to... I have to pull out… Fuck!"

But you didn't pull away. You held him when after a few thrusts you felt a warm spurt in your throat. You swallowed, sliding his cock out of your mouth and licking the tip with your tongue.

Joel was breathing heavily, his dark eyes never leaving your face. He helped you stand up and before you could catch your breath he pressed his lips to yours.

A hot tongue forced itself between your lips, eliciting the filthiest moan that had ever left your throat. He didn't mind the taste of himself on your lips, it was even kind of arousing.

"Fuck, what are you doing to me?" he gasped as he pulled away from you to catch his breath.

"Same thing you're doing to me." you replied, smiling.

The loud chatter coming from the yard quickly brought you back to reality. The workers had returned from lunch. Joel adjusted his pants and you grabbed your purse.

"About dinner..." he began uncertainly.

"We'll be in touch." you replied, and he smiled.

You headed towards the door and were already in the hallway when you saw Tommy in front of you. He was holding the box with the purchased products in his arms and looking at you with wide eyes.

"Ummm... I brought Joel his phone." You said quickly trying to hide your confusion.

"Sure." he replied and his eyes went to your dusty knees.

You just nodded goodbye and quickly went downstairs. Tommy was now looking at his older brother.

"Don't say a fucking word." Joel grumbled running his hand through his hair and trying to hide his embarrassment.

A sly smile appeared on Tommy's lips "That lipstick color really suits you, Joel." he laughed.

Joel rubbed his hand over his mouth and saw the remnants of your lipstick on the back of his hand.

"Not a fucking word." he mumbled taking the box from Tommy "We have work to do."

[part 3]

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @wandavisionx

[cassiocantdrink]

so ah, mittens. at some point, i stumbled across a fantastic local project on instagram. a bunch of volunteers collect handmade knits and around new year's eve, distribute them among homeless people!

pros:

fidget stimming but you get a sock at the end. or something.

learn to knit mittens. or socks. those small things i have never attempted before

get rid of leftover yarn!

somebody gets warm knits!

no need to be fancy. any mitten is better than no mitten

no need to interact with anybody, neither the volunteers nor the homeless people (i honestly don't have the spoons for that rn)

the drop off point is not only a 20-min walk from where i live (which is already a miracle, given the size of the town), but a 20-min walk on the way to work!

cons: ????

so this is how it started (found a youtube video on magic loop). despite its slightly eldritch appearance, it was a Very Instructive Mitten! the magic loop itself, decreases, increases, the obvious need for the modified kitchener graft but the most important of all??

this lady straight up PICKS UP AND KNITS several stitches (she says 4, i say 5) from the body of the mitten so that there is absolutely NO HOLE between the thumb and the body! i hated that hole for my entire life. i never knew you could get rid of it that easily.

this is my cousin's hand, misha ended up pinching a pair. it was the day when i badly miscalculated the width and ended up with what looked to me like an effing oven mitt. see, size-wise, i'm a corgi at best who's under misapprehension that she's more of a german shepherd. so i knitted a mitten that was like, my size?? measured a postgrad's average man's hand, recalculated and.... and ended up with this. fortunately misha came for a short visit, he of Huge Hands and Feet (well he's like 6'1 so they're proportional, just, you know... big. the entire misha is big, especially when viewed from a 5'5 perspective). i approached him timidly, coz, would you do me a favor, try on a mitten?

misha went ecstatic. there's not much that can drive a seasoned hematologist to ecstasy but the mitten did the trick. IT FITS!!!! proclaimed misha, IT"S SOFT!!! IT"S BEAUTIFUL! holy shit. it's a basic mitten? it's orange? would you like me to knit you a pair of maybe grey? i also have dark brown? noooo, said misha, admiring his mittened hand, IT"S TERRACOTTA and i love the color!

i had to brake here, hard. a man who knows what terracotta color even is deserves a pair of terracotta mittens, no doubt. so later, i finished the other one and mailed it to him bc of course he was only here for a day. i whipped out my measuring tape again, and IT TURNED OUT that what i thought was my size, was actually that average mens' size i was after. the length was correct for my hand, yes, but the width, oh no. the width was exactly mens M. excellent. so now i had two variants, M and L/XL, and i went to work.

the loot: NO MORE orange terracotta yarn taking up half of my yarn bin! ran out of blue and grey as well, yippee! 11 pairs total but one went to misha and three i unraveled bc they were too thin and redid in double yarn, so seven. yep, dropped them off, went without a hitch. now, after this rather intensive warm-up, i feel like i can hatch more intricate plans, hehehe.

the ultimate goal: tashashu gordon's hypnosis mittens. not now, now i feel like another sweater or maybe two if i'm being bold. but someday, definitely. and before you think i'm delusional to go from my basic knits to this, i'll have you know that i've done her aurora borealis scarf, so i fell that i have all the knowledge i need. also, i had to re-calculate the entire scarf pattern for a different gauge, so yeah. i can do this.

overall: total success, would definitely do it again. mittens, socks and chest warmers, here i come!

[gordisaquaberrymodel]

Hey… Yeah. Me and @redfielddoesthings decided to create OC together!

This is @redfielddoesthings, btw, lol. And this here is our son, Miguel “Mica” Laurent! Thank the owner of this blog for ACTUALLY convincing me to make an OC with her when I said I wouldn't. Life sure is full of surprises!

So, this is our child, Mica! 🙌✨

[ Template by @jimothy-hopkins ✨]

BASIC INFO ☆

Miguel “Mica” Laurent is a regular student at Bullworth Academy, although he isn't very academically bright. He is a Greaser and ex-prep. Mica carries the personality of a “Badboy” and is proud of it. He is into arts and music. His favorite hobbies are: stealing, drawing, mysticism, skating and mercilessly flirting. Despite that record, he is very friendly and easygoing, will greet you and be kind if he finds you okay.

You can find Mica by New Coventry, in the Autoshop and around the School pulling pranks and bullying others.

RELATIONSHIPS ☆

Mica has a good reputation with Greasers, Bullies and Townies, and will rarely be hostile towards a Bully or a Townie. He is specially close to his clique and tries to hang out with all of them. His best friend in the clique is Juliet Bellucci, he is one of the medium kids so he's sometimes paired up with Lucky or Ricky.

Mica dislikes Preps due to his background growing up as one and feeling unable to be himself in the clique, he used to be friends with Mary Brown and Oliver Bonville but once he left the clique, he became resentful to all Preps and will always taunt them.

Mica dislikes Jocks. Mica dislikes Nerds.

QUOTES ☆

✧ GREETINGS ✧

“Greetings! I mean–… Ey!”

“Wassup, hot stuff?”

“Oi! How're ya?”

“Hey there, man, wassup?”

✧ CHATTER ✧

“…I kinda wish I was an actual Greaser. I still speak weird sometimes. Gotta stop.”

“Oh, man, I really need finish that book. And return it, someday, maybe, who knows… Haha.”

“Dude, do I hate preppies.”

“Do these chokers make me look tough or pathetic?”

“Mysticism is kinda dope.”

“After music class today, I think I'mma go steal something from Harrington House.”

“Am I Mean bad boy or like, Hot bad boy?”

“Sometimes, I can't decide if I wanna be a Townie or stay a Grease. I think I wanna dropout…”

“…I hate feeling insecure. I miss home.”

✧ SAYING GOODBYE ✧

“I got some stuff to steal– I mean, do! I'll be heading out now. See ya.”

“Fun talking to ya, but I have Art class now. Catch ya later.”

“I'd like to stay more, but I can't. Imma hit the road now. Au revoir!”

ART by @redfielddoesthings ♡

[orangetonavy]

about I Saw the TV Glow...

i love movies and some of my favs are Titane, After Yang, Dogville, so and so. you get the gist. so at first i didn't really like the movie. i kinda get why the dialogues were so deadpan and the colours of the lighting were so strong ofc but i didn't inherently love it. the theme too, i was cis while watching it and for some scenes i could definitely feel it but overall it wasn't for me. the progression of the plot felt a little undercooked and all. i finished the movie and thought: hm. i get why all those trans people love it and it did make me feel some kind of ache at times. well. time to go to sleep.

like two days later, i kid you not, i realized that i wasn't cis. there was just this pang in my heart. a distant voice telling me that i still have time. time for what? i thought. i know i don't like my life but i've always liked being cis. i like being a girl. i love being a lesbian. i still do, but i was wrong. i was trying to make myself believe that i was content with being a woman.

now keep in mind that i live in asia. in my country women traditionally aren't allowed to look much masculine at all. no fat, no muscles, pale skin, long hair, tight but modest clothes, sweet voice, never angry. and because i fought my way through life to have relatively shorter, shaggy, dyed hair, a loud rough voice to get angry at older men for swearing at me on the bus and to love my body with all my muscles and layer of fat, i thought i already renovated myself. everything i did was eventually feminine because i am female.

but i am not feminine. thinking that i was a female by heart made me act in ways that would often confine me to femininity. i'd try to enjoy flaunting my body even after being sexually harassed for it my entire life ever since my breasts started to grow. sometimes i felt like i was useful whenever my body would get ogled at because that's how i learned to cope. i slowly got disinterested in sex and sexuality after an sa.

now that i take t and label myself as trans, i feel liberated. i don't have to cope with the shame and anger my body has given me my whole life anymore. i can be myself and i can tell people who i am in a way they would understand my own view on myself. my interest in sex and love and people are back. i'm unafraid of eventually becoming *the girl* in a relationship with a man because i am not a girl, and i'd meet someone who respects that someday.

there really is still time. i can't wait to be 30, 40, maybe i'd have a flat hairy chest by then. or maybe not and i come to peace with my guy tits. could be single but i doubt that bc i'd be hot lol. might be in a lesbian relationship. might have a husband. might be married to a spouse without gender or whatever. doesn't matter. i'll be loving myself and my partner. there is still so much time.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Creating Trouble Part 1. ||Kidnaping Scenario

Being a human was a taboo in hell, all the words you never herd you herd, everything you never felt you felt, and it got you a lot of attention from the different residents.

TW- Trigger warning, Mentions of molestation, mild language.

You couldn't scream or utter a single cry of desperation. These demons were much stronger than you could ever imagine, your worst fear was just about to come true.

"Just spray that perfume or whatever boss gave, before the radio demon comes." One muffled voice ordered.

Then you blacked out before they tied you up in constraints.

Everyone had been going nuts about the new extermination dates which had been scheduled much earlier. Everyone was creating havoc in hell during that time,

You came across a page, when you were with Alastor one of those days there was some tension and beef between Alastor and the top face of Vee.

"Oh, that's nothing, my dear! Just a little resident here who thinks he owns all of hell." Alastor said with a big grin,

"Your voice is really nice you know? Can I have those old records of yours that you were going to broadcast but never did?"

"They are just drafts my dear, it's useless."

"If they are so useless, why did you keep them?"

"Maybe I should show it to you someday my dear, I think you'll quite enjoy them. Now go to sleep while I finish some business with some co-workers of mine." Alastor instructed you had a habit of always neglecting your bedtime and sleeping the whole day.

That particular incident flashed before you were woken up with someone kicking your leg and splashing some water.

"I really thought that was some messed up shit you know. You think Lucifer's brat would?"

"Miss Bleeding Heart would probably be dead by now if it isn't that stupid radio demon watching her back all the time."

"Oh, speaking of the radio demon, did the brat wake up already? She sleeps too much; I'll just give her to one of the cannibals."

You woke up but instantly flinched when someone tall, wearing heart-shaped glasses, and a pink coat, type of soul came in front of you.

"How cute." He said amused, "Hey how much money do you think the brat can make?"

"Oh, shut it, Valentino, I didn't ask my henchmen to kidnap her so you could strike some business deal or some shit like that."

"So, listen here bitch, everyone here is horny assholes and if you want to keep that body of yours in peace, you better suck it up and answer all my questions one by one."

"OH, Kinky!" Valentino squealed.

Your heart raced rapidly, it felt like your diaphragm couldn't relax anymore and your mind had gone blank with fear, you would think with those comedic looks they would be good for a few hearty laughs.

But All your friends and you knew they were rivals.

"So did Miss Bleeding Heart and your little boyfriend ever strike a deal or something?"

"M... Miss bleeding heart?" You softly called out,

"Yeah, Lucifer's brat."

"I.. I don't know." You simply said just to be met with a harsh slap, shocking you. "I'm only a human I don't interfere with these things!"

"So, you're telling me, the radio demon has not gone soft after meeting you?"

"How is my personal status of any relevance?" You questioned,

You lay unconscious down below, struggling to get up you took a look around your surroundings, it was dark but a little dim blue light from the TV alerted you; you were bruised, and it hurt to breathe, how did you even survive?

It looked like the corridors were locked, and you were just left discarded here, with your remaining strength you hurried to the T.V., and it was the same page when Vox and Alastor had that little tension.

Could you reach anyone from here?

Judging by your injuries you must have been out at least for two to three days.

Back in the hotel.

It was Husk who noticed that you were literally not anywhere in the hotel, it further confirmed his suspicions, when Sir Pentious and Niffty asked about you, "Where did the goody two shoes go? She's acting like a bad girl!" Niffty huffed.

Everyone had been in a panic, at last when Alastor came back from one of his trips, he would always usually bring you a little trinket or something,

"My dear, sorry I got so caught up--" He realized you were not there.

Two days had passed when no news of your disappearance was updated, but it was getting busy as hell in the hotel and it angered Alastor when he was told to do something that didn't involve tracking you.

One day when Valentino had enough of your refusal he declared, He would ravage you if you didn't open your mouth.

Vox didn't want the entire image to get threatened by the media.

"So how are you, Alastor? Saw the sudden stop with your regular updates."

"Well, you see I'm in a bit of a dilemma myself, a dear friend of mine has been missing."

"Friend?' Vox laughed, "I thought it was more of a plaything?"

He pushed your tired form to the counter, as you barely managed to stabilize yourself.

It was Valentino who grabbed your collar and made you look at Alastor,

Alastor's eyes darkened, a threatening aura had befallen him, which made you nervous. Even if none of the anger was directed towards you.

When he left the remaining support you fell down again, "Exceedingly weak!" Valentino urged, kicking your frail body.

Charlie burst into tears, and Angel instantly bombarded the two with questions, "Did you piece of shi--"

"Anymore and she'll be of good use to me." Valentino warned.

Before the screen was shut.

"That was good don't you think?"

"Now we have to be wary of that Radio demon."

"I'll fucking kill them." Alastor's eyes widened when he recalled your body being manhandled, and thrown with such disregard,

He grew into his demonic form the more he thought about it the more, sadistic the punishments he concocted in his head grew.

"You worry about not letting the hotel fall into shambles, I'll make the Vee wish I'd stay gone."

[cleolinda]

The happenings, Tumblr edition

Obviously I am not happy about the prospect of Tumblr going into sunset "guess we'll just let it die" mode (or possibly "Let's sell it to fuck knows who!!"), if that is indeed what is happening. My clinical anxiety needs a lot of things. This is not one of them.

I've been using Tumblr as my primary hangout for pretty much exactly a year now. I am tired of watching platforms enshittify and crumble. Why does this keep happening to us. I am weary.

At the same time, yeah, Twitter is dogshit now, but a year after it got taken over, it is there still. There were some problems on Reddit, but it's thoroughly still there. There was time to figure out some migration for all the good it did.

I worked on essay-type posts and recaps all this year to figure out approximately how many spoons I have and how much I can expect to post a month, before I actually got the Patreon running in October. A solid 1-2 Long Posts a month, it seems like, and maybe more frequently if I do shorter posts. And Tumblr has great opportunities to just keep reblogging and sharing things, sometimes adding comments, so I feel like I'm active even when I'm stuck trying to finish a post of my own.

So now, fuck me, I guess

So I have the Patreon as a way to say, hey, I'm here no matter what else happens, sign up for the ~*free*~ weekend linkspam/check-in, here's what I posted wherever this week, I'll put up some early or extra stuff if you'd like to upgrade to a fancy tier someday. It is truly most important to me for people to just know where I am; you don't have to commit to the $1 or $5 tiers.

But I also want a way to post my writing publicly, so people can, you know, see it. So I'm gonna start mirroring my own longer posts on Dreamwidth, I guess. That's the place I know to go back to.

Hopefully Dreamwidth does not go also down in flames!!!!

I've started archiving some of my work (also from LJ and Twitter) as PDFs in Dropbox. Mostly as a safeguard for myself, but I'll make it a public link on the Patreon.

I would really like to keep up with where people are going, what sites people are going to try to migrate to next, and I'll pass that info on as I get it.

All that said, I think most of us will stay on Tumblr as long as we can, if only for the very unique shoot-the-shit culture it has. Like, people aren't leaving it so much as preparing for the future.

[nastyaromatherapy]

Hiii I love ur work mwah mwah

Could u make some stuff for Gf Ethan as the readers Bf . Like a list of the different things happen to reader that they're unaware is by Ethan to trap her with him.

Ex: As Gf making the reader break her leg or arm so she has to relay on Ethan to take care of her.

Just a list of stuff like that

bf ghostface ethan headcanons 😽

wc: 700+ cw: mentions of sex, sociopathic ethan, reader's colorblind, a little dark but not rlly

๋࣭ ⭑ you met Ethan in econ class when your teacher paired you two for a project. you both hit it off instantly. it didn't take long for y'all to start dating, you making the first move of course.

๋࣭ ⭑ after that, the two of you were inseparable, two peas in a pod. you were never seen without ethan, and you never realized it was all subliminal.

๋࣭ ⭑ ethan was a master manipulator, a sociopath if you will. he wasn't toxic, he wasn't trying to use you, but he needed you. to be around you at all times. he knew someday you would leave him. girls like you didn't like to settle down, and often nice guys finished last. that was his ideology.

๋࣭ ⭑ first, he had to turn you away from your friends. he had to be your only emotional outlet. besides, since your friends were pretty sane, he knew that they would worry for you at some point, and maybe try and drive you away from him, which couldn't happen.

๋࣭ ⭑ he would casually talk about how he didn't like them while on dates, and he'd find the smallest things about your friends to turn you against them,

“the one with the wavy hair, yeah, i think she was kinda, laughing at me. it's okay if i'm embarrassing you, i'll wait in the car.”

๋࣭ ⭑ in turn, you would give the girls a piece of your mind and continued with your life, your long life in his captivity.

๋࣭ ⭑ now friendless, the only person you could talk to was him, which he loved. he loved whenever you were vulnerable and confided in him, even sometimes spilling a bit too much. you knew he had issues and was angry, but you never thought he'd ever actually kill for you.

๋࣭ ⭑ he could never let you know that he's killed before though. he knew you were soft and not like him. he was aware that if you had found out there would be no saving it, no coming back.

๋࣭ ⭑ so he did everything in secret, chalked it up to coincidence. you puked in bed, leading him to have to nurse you back to health? must've been the shrimp. the town is on lockdown due to the deaths recently, all of them being people that you despised or despised you? karma.

๋࣭ ⭑ the sweet boy persona worked so well, even having you fooled. even when he dicked you down into the mattress, claiming you, making you say you'd never leave him and that he was the only boy for you, you thought he just cared about you.

๋࣭ ⭑ he cared about nobody but himself. you were the closest he's ever got to caring for someone. he wanted to hurt anybody who hurt you, going lower than those who went low. but that was because he knew if they really hurt you, you'd be gone, and that wouldn't be good for him. it was always about him.

๋࣭ ⭑ even once, you insisted to go roller skating with some classmates you didn't even classify as friends, yet, but you would. so, he followed you. he couldn't just force you to stay home, but you needed to learn a lesson.

๋࣭ ⭑ he would cower around the rink as Quinn, his accomplice, "accidentally" crashed into you. For safe measure, she cushioned herself with knee and elbow pads. You, already great at skating, had nothing to help break your fall.

๋࣭ ⭑ you yelped loud enough for the whole plex to hear, your arm broken. Quinn was quick to apologize for the "mistake," it all being a face as she shared the same sociopathic traits with her brother.

๋࣭ ⭑ your friends took you to the hospital, and you called him unaware that he was still following you, already on his way.

๋࣭ ⭑ he coddled you when he saw you laying in bed with a cast on your arm, and you were quick to hug him as much as you could.

“I let you out of my sight for a couple of hours, god, promise you won't leave me again.”

“I won't Eth, I'm so sorry. I promise.”

[thedivineart]

random pov of your future husband

‹𝟹 note ！

I know this is so funny and I just want to put smile on your face today:>

ꕀ ׅ࣪ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ links : navigation. send love.

pacs. paid services.

masterlist. @tarotwithart.

© thedivineart. do not plagiarize any of my work, translate or repost it on other social media platform.

꒰ one ꒱

• king of cups, temperance, 2 of cups

Dámn dude, she thought I don't love her but was opposite from what she thinks. Little did she know that I do love her with all of my heart, she fell deep but I fell way harder. I want to be with here always and do see my future with her, this may sounds so funny to you but I am head over the heals to her. Love can make you go crazy it is, YEAH I'm telling it to you right now so you are aware-_-. Know what? even thought she act weird or something do really weird, I tend to love it<3. She thinks she's not perfect but how can she be over the scale, people do mistakes at all and it is normal for us and understandable unless you are inconsiderate and idiot being. Her flaws she didn't like it but I do, I really do ( why your laughing?! ) I want to love herself as much how I love her, making her happy is the best thing that ever happened to my life. As of now, all I need to do is to wait and be patient for her love— I know someday she will realize that she loves me too. I will do anything just to enter and win her heart, I want her to experience the beauty of life, the love and having family— how happy it is ( someone: smiling like an idiot tskk ! ). I wonder what she feels about me?

꒰ two ꒱

• king of wands, 4 of swords, judgement

Tskk! I don't know why I keep being nice to her, never used to be like this before. Whenever she's coming I was excited for no reason which is pretty weird, I am weirdo now like her? ( someone: bro, this just my opinion but don't be mad about it ) huh? what it is, spill the thing ( someone: you... you are in love with her, just my opinion:) what?! do you see her? I'm in love with her? so funny of you , nice joke. *inner mind*did I fall for her? I fear that she will judge me for who am I- all of my relationship failed before ( sigh ). But I noticed ( what it is?! 2x ) dude! let me finish first !! ( ok, okay:> ) that everytime she passed by here, she looks tired or that's how she looks? ( someone: maybe she's depress but not impressed about your charms ) dámn! I'm out of here, you are no good and less serious. ps. this dude is too serious and have anger issues

꒰ three ꒱

• 4 of wands + king of pentacles + 7 of wands

- I wanted to marry her, man and she really do deserve it! I feel secure and love with her, she's my everything you know. She's is the reason why I'm feel complete now ( someone: you seems happy about it😅 ) cause I AM, creating a family with her will be my best choice in my entire life. A kind of person who is deserving of materialism and deep love, I want to give her everything even myself and I, it may sounds crazy but that's how it is, showering her some luxurious things will be great too but I think my time is the most important thing about her. I'm very protective about her but I'm not someone who is into words but I hope she appreciates all of my efforts even I don't speak about it. I'll be willing to take risk to this love of ours even thought I'm not sure if we're going up until the end of the line.

‹𝟹 leave like 🙵 re-blog when you love it !

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[blueberrypancakesworld]

You were my past

Bobby Drake x John Allerdyce (Allerdrake)

warning : emotional, kiss, hurt comfort, fighting

Summary : Another Logan and an assasin with madness were his companions as Bobby finds himself in the middle of nowhere when all he wanted to do was help. What John didn't know was that the past he was supposed to have ended, opportunities and a heart reached him again after more than twenty years in a nothing that could only give them both each other.

info : Finally an Allerdrake one shot I know I'll finish the other story too I promise I will…someday. Now have fun with it and have a nice day

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

Heat and warmth were something he was familiar with, they were natural elements of nature that naturally hevrorrtarate just as cold and ice have naturally existed in the world for centuries and millions of years. They were conditions he knew, especially the cold, since he was a teenager and initially hated it…but now loved it.

His ice this coldness was something that characterized him as a mutant, his abilities were at the highest level and he could be a great danger but he chose not to be because what did he have but hatred and aversion to the one for whom he would give his life and the one closest to his. So no Bobby would never use his abilities for something so harmful but he knew others, knew someone years ago who was just like him.

Someone who also had that time in him but something different, that warmth, the heat, the fire had been his strength and for a moment he had had the makings of an X-Men, for a moment in both their lives they could have taken on the coin, the fate of each other and yet they didn't. Was it predestined? Or was it something they couldn't control? Bobby Drake didn't know.

Even now, two decades later, he had no answer to these questions. All he had instead was nothing and a lion that wasn't his and a red assassin with a "mission".

Information about various things, universes, humans and mutants had lulled him into a stupor, as well as Logan's elliptical expression that looked at him like he was suffering every time.

But he only got a vague answer or none at all, but Bobby himself was an X-Men teacher, at least in this universe, and when it came to Logan, his friend and former father figure, he would help.

He had left with them a few hours ago on a long mission from the school and was now in the middle of nowhere. Since that time organization had touched them with the staff they had been wandering here for what seemed like hours through the ncihts of desert, to forest to trees to stone and back the desert.

It was getting too crazy and to make matters worse he felt Deadpool's body sticking to him, ,,Good walking popsicle…can I have a lick?" the masked man asked and Bobby felt the hot exuberant breath on his cheek, causing him to push the man off him and hear a sigh of pleasure from Logan, whose nerves were as fried as his own.

Even if the mutant wasn't warm he didn't know the word he was always cold, he also found the heat that kept trying to cover him like a veil annoying.

He was just about to ask something about the multiverse again when Deadpool started cowering like a dog and made Bobby a fuck offer based on information, ,,Leave me alone with this…here!" Bobby hissed and created a block of ice from his hand, which he threw at Deadpool, who accepted it with great gratitude. But a glance at Logan told the blue-eyed man that Logan was not only exhausted but was also wading towards something, something that might not even come.

Maybe they were alone? Another question he couldn't answer and so he kept looking until he saw some kind of object on a hill in the distance and pointed to it, ,,How about a break for today?" he suggested and made it clear to the two others what he meant, hearing Wolverine's growling agreement and Deadpool's joyful assent, who suddenly didn't seem so warm anymore.

But time passed quickly, faster than in the "normal" world, and by the time they reached the object, which turned out to be half the roof of a house, it was already dark and the three of them sat down under it and made themselves comfortable as best they could.

Bobby had also offered to make a bed out of ice, but this was likely to lead to unpleasantly wet clothes, so he simply closed the "tent" with a wall of ice, which cooled it down a little and the three of them tried to beat it after a bit of thinking and discussing what to do next.

This sleep was much easier after Deadpool's knockout, but he and Logan talked a little about various things, but his "friend" didn't seem to want to open up. Which is why they both quietly decided to let it go and go to sleep for at least a few hours before they had to continue.

A sleep that was restless, hard and above all restless, again and again he opened his eyes and looked into darkness, sometimes there seemed to be wandering shadows above them or again into the darkness but above all it was something else that did not let Bobby sleep at least not again when he felt something, a warming not artificial and yet not quite natural.

Slowly rising from his seated position he looked at his two companions at least Deadpool still seemed to be out of it and Logan seemed to be caught up in his own dream, ,,I'll be right back" he mumbled not knowing if either of them were even aware of it before he stepped through his ice wall closing it behind him and following this something, this connection.

The desert had indeed filled down at night still warm but it seemed to be a beautiful summer evening just without anyone with him as he walked through the sand looking around again and again hoping to find something through his own slowly dwindling courage and spirit.

But besides the thinness of sand, the stony random chunks of something didn't exist…at least that seemed to be the first case until he actually spotted something in the distance, something he wouldn't have expected here.

,,A car?" he asked himself and created an ice ramp in front of him to get to the object faster, knowing about the possible danger but how bad could it get here in this nothing? The closer he got he felt something like an invisible something that he knew, that he should have known once, the car was old, decades nibbled at it but he knew by the lights that it was a flame design. Flames.

He knew flames and immediately images popped into his head of dreams and memories as he moved closer not seeing the shadow moving outside the light not wanting to join Bobby's approach. The other thought he would never see him again, which is why in this place full of nothing.

The heat over the dunes was enough for him to grab it, he would have turned the stranger to dust before he could do anything, but why not have some fun?

Why not play something before it would become nothing again? drawing in the air he held out his hand letting the heated air warm up further before the fire appeared in his hand and he held the flame next to the others.

A smile stole across Pyro's lips as he saw the flinch, ,,One move mate and you're ashes or hers" he warned, a laugh could be heard, yellow teeth showing briefly as he extended the flame, the fire slowly wrapping around the other's body with the simplicity of years of practice. He felt the tingling in his body as the fire became like an obsession over time and the older one only had to make one move to make another human torch.

Maybe he would get the chance even faster than he thought because the stranger turned around and Pyro took his chance the fire would lay on the clothes and turn the body to burnt flesh and ashes within seconds, maybe playing a little more.

But even though he heard a clearly startled gasp as he saw the fire start, the newcomer hardly seemed to feel anything, at least he didn't scream, but instead Pyro backed away with an uncertain look in his eyes when he felt an ice-cold hand on his cheek. Ice.

There had never been anyone here who had ice, there was no natural ice, no winter, no North Pole and South Pole here, such a thing should not exist here, the element alone had burned itself into his body twenty years ago, he should never see it again and certainly not feel it.

Letting the fire get hotter and hotter with a hasty hand movement six thousand degrees was the highest he had ever managed with a few more chemicals, but this would have to be enough, it had to be enough because he wanted to feel it again.

Not to feel him again. Bobby felt the flames hotter than anything he had ever fought, more concentrated and aggressive than normal fire, it was the same fire only stronger than when he had touched him John didn't flinch he had seen the fear in his friend's eyes, his first love, he just wanted to touch him one more time.

But it wasn't enough another fight like when the ice and fire met, the steam rising where the fire met his ice as he put his head into the ice form and walked towards John, it was the same dark bluish gray eyes he had looked into back then, the hair just dark wispier a broken man standing in front of him who seemed to have gone through hell.

The coin had been tossed again. ,,John…it's me Bobby" he said calmly trying to reach out a hand after the other mutant but Pyro drew in the air again gathering more of the heated air and throwing more and more fire at Bobby creating more and more heat to draw out of the air to kill the fate he had concluded at least once and for all, ,,I want to talk" Bobby tried again his ice fighting the fire made the two of them clash again.

The madness of the one commanded in which nothing seemed to further fracture the cracked psyche of the fire leader his facade the walls of safety froze and shattered as Bobby leapt out of the fire from a ramp, ,,Fuck off Iceman go away!" Pyro shouted at the other letting the fire in front of him rise up like a wall shielding himself from the former boy who had beaten him.

He felt the pain on his wrists as the cold gripped him again and he pushed the heat higher, yet a startled sound left his lips as Bobby simply walked through the fire, hands reaching for him, fear gripping Pyro's heart of getting the same freezing burns, the same darkness, the same slaughter, the same loneliness…but instead he felt peace.

The fire went out, the ice disappeared and in the darkness of nothingness John was embraced by Bobby, an embrace of arms wrapped around the battered John who within an aching heartbeat was suddenly clinging painfully to Bobby.

,,You did this to me! The pain and loneliness Bobby, it's your fault, you bastard!" John screamed his pain at his former love, the boy his feelings had once belonged to, as he simply listened to Bobby apologize for every word, for every pain of the past they shared.

Bobby threatened to break away John continued to hold on to him, the look of his dark eyes full of hate and anger but most of all pain, the firebender continued to hold on to the taller Iceman slowly placing his hand on John's cheek the wince going through both their bodies as the ice met the fire peacefully for the first time in ten years.

Until the throaty laugh came from John, whose cheek did more harm than good as he withdrew from the caress, ,,That's a joke the fucker is kidding me…where are the cameras? Huh where are those time clocks!" he shouted raising his hands as if he would see someone at any moment and Bobby just looked in fascination at his former friend who apparently couldn't process the situation.

The ice user tried to get close to the other again, but his hand tried to lay on John's, which resulted in a blow to his face with a fist full of fire, ,,Where's the TVA!" he shouted at Bobby, grabbing his collar and pulling him up again, but when he saw the apologetic look on the ice mutant's face, John finally stopped.

Realization set in and he threatened to lose his grip and let go of Bobby, leaning against his car and looking to the ground until he heard a click, a click as Bobby opened and closed the fire door with the haymaker, ,,I've been saving it all this time…I thought you'd come back…Pyro," he said and darted over to his peer and leaned against the car next to him before wiping away his own tears and John's eyes showed tears.

,,John…please, Bobby, call me what I used to be," the firebender whispered softly, barely audible, and Bobby placed the fire train in his hands, pressing his hand into the smaller one for a moment as the dark eyes of Pyro flashed back to the memories they had shared twenty years ago until John lifted his head and let his eyes wander over Bobby.

Pain showed itself as time had taken its toll on them in good and bad ways and yet they had found each other again even in different circumstances, ,,John I can help you this tva or something they don't even know you…but I-I know you…I know this," he said and tapped John's chest beneath the dirty dark fabric was the beating heart that had always held love and that love had not stopped even in the pain of time.

John's gaze met Bobby's again, the fire mutant ready to accept full affection, to feel something other than this madness and pain, John's twisted fingers on Bobby's cheek, he almost drew in the air and let out a shudder as he truly realized that Bobby was really here, that for the first time there was another hope that didn't come from the tva, but from something that really needed him and wanted to help him and had something to love him after everything that had happened.

,,I'm here John I won't let you disappear" Bobby said putting his hand on John's leaning against his warm cheek feeling John press closer to him dark bluish gray eyes moving from Bobby's bright blue eyes to the other's lips that something lay between them again, the coin tossed fire had hurt ice and ice had hurt fire, tears shed and love still not forgotten.

The two of them ventured further before kissing after two decades, the two elements coming closer again, Bobby finally able to let go of the guilt, John finally sure that he had let go of all the years of anger and fear and pain, that he was someone who could be loved, who was no longer an outsider among outsiders.

Because he had had someone to return the favor all this time and now finally felt that return of love. He put his hand on Bobby's he would not let go of him again while Bobby accepted John's gesture for help and did the right thing with gentleness.

They would make it, they wouldn't fight each other, they wouldn't lose each other again because in the end they would find love again and the pain would disappear as soon as he took John back into a reality, into a world that had been looking for him, into a world where they would make up for everything they couldn't and have the life together they needed and deserved and it would start together with fire and ice and that kiss.

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

@psychoblaster here is the promised story hope you like it :)