#need her to beat the shit out of the boys..........affectionately

[m-kyunie]

02/20 Happy birthday Lenalee

[beneathashadytree]

RESPONSIBLE DADS - LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN X READER

Warnings : autistic!Zayne with his autistic daughter, all of them are girl dads here (except for Xavier who has twins), cuteness-aggression bites, one mention of a gun (no one is harmed!), no mentions of pregnancy (their kids can be interpreted as biological or adopted), this isn’t proof-read, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : so much domestic fluff ☹️🫶🏽

Word count : 2.3K words (holy shit???)

Additional notes : This is a combination of two asks I’d received a month or two ago about the LNDS men as dads while their partner is away, and Zayne in particular struggling with his own autism vs his child’s autism. The brain rot was real in this one😭 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“She went down without much of a fuss,” Zayne said, slowly closing the bedroom door behind him as he set his phone on the dresser and got ready for bed over the video call, despite the time zone differences. He’d tried to convince them to just let themself rest instead of staying up past 3 AM, but they’d paid him no mind and insisted on seeing him last thing before bed.

They hummed, watching him slip out of his button up through their screen with a fond gaze. “She is really quiet compared to what I’ve heard about kids her age.”

In the midst of folding his shirt, he paused, a slight crease between his eyebrows. “A little too quiet.” At his concerned face, they straightened up in their seat and leaned in closer to their phone. “I think… she has difficulty connecting with me.”

Their expression was unsure at that. “I don’t know, Zayne. You know she loves you…”

“I do,” was his swift answer, pausing as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head, then popping out with his hair adorably mussed. “But maybe she feels like I wouldn’t understand her.”

No matter how much he wanted to seem stoic and unaffected by the prospect, there was no hiding the conflicted emotions swimming in his eyes. With an almost sad smile, they asked him, “Even though anyone that sees you two says you have so much in common?”

With a slight flush (was it out of embarrassment as he noticed his messy hair, or was it a twinge of pride in being so connected to his daughter?) he began to apply his minimal skincare that he’d grown used to with them, scarred skin deftly being cared for after years of neglect.

“Autistic girls have different experiences than autistic boys, and their struggles are often overlooked because of these differences. Maybe she subconsciously feels that we can’t bridge that gap.”

Resting their head against their hand, keen eyes bore through him. Zayne would never go unheard as long as they were there. “Do you feel that gap?”

He shrugged, swallowing thickly as he wiped the excess off on his hand towel. “It’s not about me. Studies show that—”

Shaking their head, they sighed a little in affectionate exasperation. “It doesn’t matter what studies say. You’re overthinking it because you want things to be perfect. It’s sweet, just… not very realistic.”

“Mm. I know,” he softly conceded, combing through his hair with a distant glimmer in his eyes. It wasn’t so easy, navigating the emotions and ideas of a child that one already struggled with for decades.

They apologetically smiled at him, then added, “She trusts you with her life because she knows how hard you try to understand her, no matter how difficult that may be sometimes. You give her the space to be able to communicate her needs properly, and that’s why she loves you beyond measure, Zayne.”

He looked away for a few beats, but that was enough time for them to see the misty-eyed wonder in his eyes as he looked at the crooked drawing on his bedside table that she’d made of him holding her in his arms.

His sweet daughter who carried a piece of his heart everywhere she went.

“Then she’s just like you. Very open with her affections.” Huffing out an impossibly tender laugh, he picked up his phone once again and began to climb into bed, his shoulders sagging with relief; like he needed that reassurance to be able to nestle his body into the mattress, cold as it was without his lover. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it from you both…”

“You’re gonna get sick like that, and guess who’ll be cleaning up that mess?” Rafayel frowned, grabbing his daughter by the scruff of her neck and carrying her off before she got her pretty dress drenched by the wave that came crashing down where she’d been standing.

“I can’t get sick from water, daddy, and you know it,” came the reply between giggles, her eyes closed as she relished in the spray of seawater.

With a grunt, he fumbled with his phone a little as he switched to carrying her against his hip with one arm, before turning back to the ongoing video call. “Holding down the fort?” they teasingly asked, arching their brow at their daughter’s windswept hair and inevitably sandy fists curled up against Rafayel’s chest.

“She likes to bully me.” He pouted as he saw two pairs of mischievous eyes looking at him. “No guesses as to where she picked that up from.”

“Are you sure that your six year old daughter—who, mind you, is as cute as a button—is bullying you?”

“Daddy’s just silly, Lemurians are fine with water,” his daughter tried to reason with what she felt was perfectly logical. “He just doesn’t want to wash my clothes again if I get them wet.”

“And why should I?” he indignantly huffed out at the grin that showed she was definitely up to no good. “They’ll get dirty ten seconds later anyways. It’s such a pain.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t leave paint buckets everywhere, then I wouldn’t be on my fourth dress of the day.” Her sassy mutter under her breath was the last straw, and then his instincts took over and—

Chomp!

His teeth nibbled on her round little cheeks, cuteness aggression washing away any possible annoyance (which he’d been feigning, anyways) at the prospect of having to do the laundry all over again. She cried out in protest, though her shreaks of laughter and tighter hold on him gave away the fact that—not unlike his partner—she loved every bit of it.

“You got my face all dirty,” she whined, wiping her cheek against his silk shirt as he walked them back up to the house, much to his dismay.

A chuckle came from his screen, and he flushed under the sweet gaze and the grin he missed so much. “There goes another round in the washing machine. Y’know, Raf, it’s not the smartest move around to wear your favorite clothes around your kid.”

“No kidding,” he grumbled, though there was no bite behind his words. In fact, the tender look in his gem-like eyes only spoke volumes of the adoration he held inside. And maybe his little girl felt it, and decided it would be the perfect moment to press a kiss to where she could reach, right over his heart.

“I don’t mind the paint, daddy. You always make the prettiest things with it, pretty just like you,” she softly said, her tiny index finger toying with the pearlescent button on his blouse.

How much more did she want to squeeze his heart in his chest? He didn’t think he could possibly love her any more than he already did, and yet here she was, proving over and over again that she was the greatest gift he could ever be blessed with after all these years. Walking into their home with sandy feet and salty skin was no longer a dream, but a part of his quaint little life.

“Even if you did ruin my favorite dress and sandals.”

“Papa’s been asleep for three hours now,” she whined in a low voice, her bottom lip jutted out as she looked back at Xavier curled up in a ball in the middle of the unmade bed, legs tangled in the messy sheets. She then turned back to the videocall at hand. “Can’t you wake him up, please?”

Her twin brother popped up from behind her and patted her shoulders in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “He’s tired after he played with us. Let’s leave him for a bit.”

With a downcast gaze, she reluctantly nodded and walked out with him, the phone shaking as it was a little too big for her small hands.

Now out in the living room, they could finally raise their voices a little. “Papa cleaned up in the morning too. We probably shouldn’t have asked him to play with us.” He looked a little forlorn as he fiddled with his fingers. Painfully shy, it often showed when he was doubting himself. “We tried to help him after lunch, but—”

“That’s okay, what matters is that you both tried to lend him a hand,” they sweetly reassured them as they smiled through the screen. “And I’m sure if he was too tired to play with you guys, he wouldn’t have offered it in the first place.”

Their daughter gasped, eyes shining in awe at that. “How did you know that Papa was the one who came up with the game?”

“Because he waits for playtime every day, just to spend time with you guys. He’s always so excited, y’know?”

With matching grins (though one was more bashful than the other), the two seven year-olds looked significantly lighter than they had been when the call had first started. The precious moment was soon interrupted by a yawn from behind and a tuft of blonde hair taking up half the background.

“Did you two sneak off to have them all to yourself?” came Xavier’s sleep-addled voice, as he shuffled to pull them onto his lap and readjust the camera. “Cheeky, taking advantage of my nap.”

His daughter laughed, her hands going to loop around his neck. “We weren’t! Promise.”

Her brother reached up to pat down Xavier’s bedhead, gently combing through the soft locks. “You looked tired, Papa. We didn’t want to wake you up with our voices.”

At that, Xavier couldn’t help the upwards quirk of his lips, all the love one could contain threatening to burst through as he held his world between his fingertips—and the best part of him miles away but no further from the heart.

“You’re sweet, just like a certain someone we all miss,” he said, before kissing their foreheads and ruffling their hair, earning little grumbles of protest. Turning his attention back to the videocall, Xavier’s eyes softened. “How long until we can take naps together on the couch again?”

His partner sighed, glancing at the calender on the wall for a moment. “Should be three days. It’s hell without you guys. Maybe I’ve gotten used to waking you all up for an hour in the mornings.”

“Hey, it’s all because of Papa!”

“He does sleep in twice as long as us…”

“And it’s gotten even worse now that you’re gone.”

He chuckled at their sulking feeding off each other, and the collective agreement that things just weren’t the same when his lover wasn’t beside him where they belonged. “Then maybe this should be enough to convince them to hurry back to us so we can get up early every day, hmm?”

“Tell me why Luke and Kieran frantically called me up and told me stop you from endangering our one year old girl. Now.”

“Well, hello to you too, sweetie.” Sylus rolled his eyes at the clearly enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve missed you too. I’m doing good without you for two weeks. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t give me that crap. You’ll live.” Scoffing, they crossed their arms in front of their chest. “Less avoiding the topic, more explaining why your seconds in command are treating you like a ticking bomb.”

“They’re more like lackeys, you know.” A hint of irritation climbed up his spine. Luke and Kieran were more like lost puppies that would be a danger to themselves—and society—if they were left to their whims. That’s all that they were (or so he tried to convince himself).

They waved him off, knowing that his half-assed words weren’t to be taken seriously. “I beg to differ. Now, where is she and what happened?”

Silence settled for a few moments, but then he realized it wasn’t in his favor to not quickly come clean. “She was playing around with me in bed, then seemed fascinated by my left pocket. Said pocket… may or may not have had a gun.”

Leaning in close to the camera, they sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of their nose. “And I’m assuming her magic little fingers found the trigger.”

“More or less yes,” he mumbled under his breath, swallowing thickly as he met their dead-eyed stare. “Had to whip it out and fling it across the room… which may or may not have caused it to slam into the new bookcase and send it toppling.”

It didn’t matter how many people he’d managed to fearlessly face down; pinned underneath his partner’s disapproval, he found himself unable to move. “And that’s where they came in?”

Sylus hummed, flipping the camera and showing them the fractured remains on the floor. “Sorry about that, sweetie. Didn’t have the time to clean it up, what with feeding her and getting her ready for bed.”

“It’s fine, I can build another one.” Their quick dismissal was followed by the furrowing of their eyebrows. “What matters is that you prioritized her safety first.”

“Of course,” he was quick to reply, turning the camera back to himself, before he chuckled a little, sweetness seeping through his voice, “Though I do admit, seeing her have no self-preservation instincts really did make her strikingly similar to you in that regard.”

“Really flattering, hearing you praise her brashness and compare it to mine.” Their expression then grew more serious, and they worried their bottom lip between their teeth. “But… please. Don’t keep any weapons in the same room as her. She’s naturally curious.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmured, having had his dose of sheer panic at her tiny hands. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been as terrified as he was earlier, his blood turning to ice at the thought of endangering her because of his own fast-paced life.

“I know you’ll be more careful. You’re so good to her—and me,” they quietly mused, a grateful look on their face as they admired him—tired ruby eyes, unruly silver hair, and all.

And Sylus had no control over his own lovesick stare, perfectly content with dancing in their palm for the rest of their lives. After all, he’d found the only two people in this world he could forfeit his life for. There was no shame in admitting it—and so he did, ever so softly. “I suppose you can take pride in knowing that you both have me wrapped around your fingers.”

Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @riinari-sa @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @deepzombieyouth @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @fromdeepspace-withlove @flavoredhappy @hrhmimieucliffe @icedunderwaterroom @ay-chuu @granddearduck @skriblobz @nadinefromwhere @thatbaepizzalover @imhere2dosomething @saerotonins (more in replies!)

Sign up for my taglist here!

[jiarkives]

can I please request some cassian (acotar) x reader fluff? maybe he's been away on a long mission and he's finally home with his mate and he can't keep his hands off of her because he missed her so much ... (it can get smutty if you want) thank you!! xx

clingy

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — your mate gets even clingier after being apart from you.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — cassian (a court of thorns and roses)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff ; written with fem!reader in mind

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — thank you for the request! i hope i did your idea justice hehehe also the ending is kinda wack jdhdhdhdhd my hand was on autopilot basically

~

Mor, Amren, and Nesta all looked annoyed, Feyre and Elain looked... uncomfortable, at most, while you could only smile awkwardly as you sipped your tea soundly, smacking your lips for effect as you put the cup down. “Lovely weather today, am I right?”

“Oh, cut it out!” Nesta grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest as she glared at you. Well, not at you, but rather at the male beside you.

“Aren’t we going to address the elephant in the room?” Mor spoke up as her eyes fell on your mate whose arms were wrapped around your waist and his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One would think he was asleep, but if they would looked closer, they would’ve seen the shit eating grin plastered on his face.

(The sisters were definitely rubbing off of the inner circle, especially with their figures of speech which were definitely confusing at first for the immortals.)

“Is that what you’re calling me now? An elephant?” Cassian picked his head up briefly from your neck to address the females in the garden with you. “I bet I could beat those creatures in a split second. Am I right?” He turned to the sisters with a cocky smirk, his eyebrows wiggling.

All of them ignored him, only looking at you with exasperated expressions. Feyre sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, Amren shook her head, Elain tried to look busy, while Nesta and Mor were practically fuming.

“You do understand the concept of a girls’ day, don’t you?” Mor addressed you, her eyebrows pinched together.

“Yes, of course–”

“Then tell this big, dumb pile of muscle to let go off you and fuck off.” Nesta glared at Cassian who grumbled and tightened his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” You sighed. “He had just come back from Windhaven with Az earlier at dawn and hadn’t let me out of sight since, but we’ve already had this day set even before their mission and I didn’t want to cancel last minute...” Your words slowed at the last part as you smiled sheepishly. “But maybe I should’ve just cancelled...?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be a bother,” Feyre, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in before Mor and Nesta could blow up even more. “So let’s just continue as planned, but with Cassian here, who I’m sure will behave.” She looked over to Cassian, her gaze stern and receiving a mock salute in return from the male. “See? No need for rescheduling.”

Cassian turned to Nesta, sticking his tongue out at her like a toddler, but immediately stopped and hid his face back in your neck when Feyre uttered his name in warning, causing Nesta to smirk at him smugly.

You could only sigh heavily as your mate’s arms wrapped impossibly tighter around you.

Cauldron, this was going to be a long day.

~

It was, in fact, a long day for the lot of you.

Cassian, despite Feyre’s words of warning, decided to be the most annoying little shit (affectionate for you, derogatory for the rest) during your time together.

He was a busybody, of course he was more invested in the gossip than all of you were. But not only was he gossiping harder than a teenage girl, he was acting like a lovesick teenage boy too.

He wouldn’t keep his hands off of you, even going as far as teasing you with his hands trailing where they shouldn’t. You weren’t able to focus properly on your girls, having to swat at his hand every time.

Then, the girls’ love lives were brought up. Mor was talking about the female she recently met in the city when Cassian interrupted her, “A female? What’s her name? Where does she live? Do I know her? Does Rhys know about her—”

“Mother above, Cassian!” Mor groaned out. “You’re impossibly annoying, leave me alone. Gods.”

You had quickly apologized to the girls with a promise of making up to them another time as you stood, pulling your mate up with you and winnowing into the house Rhysand had gifted you two in your mating ceremony.

As soon as you were standing in the comfort of your own home, Cassian’s smug, cocky smirk softened into one you were used to seeing on him when you were alone.

“Finally.” He groaned in relief, his hands finding their way to your hips to pull you flush to his chest. “I’ve been waiting all godsdamned day, sweetheart.”

Then, his smirk returned as he lifted you in his arms.

“Now, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.” He pushed your bedroom door open. “Properly this time.”

[myahfig4]

My Haitani Brothers NSFW & SFW relationship headcons in different timelines

Ran

Doesn't care if his gf style is emos/alternatives, tomboys or girly girls, although I think he has a preference for girly girls.

Likes someone who probably is a bit more mature

Has to get along with Rindou, if Rindou doesn't like her, ran will end the relationship

Likes cuddling during sleep

Someone who stays calm even when fighting/arguing

Takes him a little longer to commit to someone

Likes compliments from his gf

Let's hs gf braid his hair

Likes someone who Can make him laugh

I can see him as both someone who sleeps around, but also I can kind of not see that, he seems to care about his reputation so I don't think he'd want to be known as a fuckboy

I think hes a boob guy, he would want to lay on his gfs boobs when he sleeps sometimes

Daily naps with him

He would keep his gf hidden from the public because he wouldn't want a riverly gang to target her.

He would spoil her.

Would realize he has feelings pretty quickly just wouldn't commit right away

During sex he's a bit gentler, only once in a while would he be rough

He likes when his gf tops him, he can enjoy the view

He's very charming, very quickly gets his gfs parents approval

Likes affection and is affectionate

Bonten timeline might be a bit more of a player but definitely not 24/7, unless he's married or in a relationship

Is definitely a girl dad in bonten and final timeline

During bonten and final timeline When hes in a relationship he would let other girls try to flirt but then laugh or show his ring to them

That man has a big dick, he is tall an lanky an if y'all know anything about tall and lanky men, they are always packing

His dick may be big, but it's a tiny bit skinnier.

In Bonten and finale timeline, would get his kids names and wife's name tattooed on him.

In Tenjiku he would tell the boys he has a gf

During Tenjiku era parties, he would drag his gf everywhere

Would beat the shit out of anyone with his baton if they make any comments about his gf/wife.

Prefers being in the house then in public during Tenjiku era

He's bold

Likes clingy

He says I love you first

Teases his gf/wife a lot

Rindou

Wants a girl who can be his best friend an girlfriend at the same time

Someone who also likes drinking and partying

He would prob stop drinking as much as he does when hes in a relationship

Doesn't care what his gfs style is, he has no preference for emos/alternatives, tomboys, or girly girls

Likes when his gf goes to the gym with him but he won't pressure her into working out

LOVES when him an his gf have the same music taste

During late night car rides, definitely screaming with his girl the lyrics to the music playing

He loves when his gf hypes him up and compliments him when he's DJing and working out

He makes mixes for his gf

Let's his gf sit on his lap when he's making mixes

Likes clingy but also at times needs some space

At first is in disbelief that a girl confessed to him instead of ran

He would put his glasses on top of his gfs head when there's a fight

He is rougher in bed, although the first few times he'll be gentle and once in a while he'll be gentle

He is flexible, best believe he can use those hips and doing lots of positions

Since he's a bit shorter, his dick is average size but he definitely thicker, since he's buff once again he knows how to use his hips

He's more open and public with his gf, he takes her out

Shopping for music cds and dvds

I think he likes matching clothes with his gf

Let's his gf paint his nails

Ran realizes Rindou has feelings for a girl before Rindou realizes, he teases Rindou a lot

I kind of feel like he likes pda

Always has a arm around his gf during parties

Maybe at first keeps quiet about his gf to Tenjiku but eventually tells them, he may be a little insecure that she'd leave him for one of his friends but that's why he waits a bit to tell them but after they know he'll let her meet them

He's a good listener

He may be a little more aggressive during a argument on accident but then quickly apologizes, he doesn't intend to be aggressive

I feel like he's also a gamer, so he plays video games with his gf

Likes cuddling

I think he's a night owl so probably sneaks over to his gfs place in the middle of the night

I can see him being both very bold, but I can also see him being shy and blushing a lot

Definitely is scared to make a good impression when meeting his gfs parents

Lots of play wrestling with his gf/wife and kids

I feel like he would like couples yoga

He wants kids, a boy and a girl

Lots of movie nights

Is an ass guy, although he may also like boobs

During bonten he definitely djs in their clubs and may sleep around a lot, unless he's in a relationship

During Bonten and Final timeline, don't worry about him having wandering eyes, he only has eyes for his gf/wife, if someone flirts with him he will literally ignore her and roll his eyes or go on his phone

I feel like he would take his gf/wife to a club and then take the microphone and tell everyone it's his girls bday

Gets clingy and whiney when he's drunk

Falls in love quickly and easily

Likes reassurance due to his insecurity to being the shadow, younger, weaker and less picked(with girls) brother, although reassurance isn't needed

Rindou probably ha a goofy side

Definitely likes someone who can make him laugh, he may be surprised if his gf shows him her goofy side the first time, then laughs with her

During bonten and final timeline, has his wife/gf and kids name tattooed on him

Would fight anyone who makes a comment about his gf/wife

When it comes to saying I love you. Since I can see him being both bold, and shy, if he's bold then he says it first, if his gf says it first he says it back. If he's shy, he may use song titles or lyrics to indirectly say I love you, if his gf says it first he blushes and may wait a little bit to say it back

[puppydollgstar]

Poly TF141 x Fem!Reader

This is a really self indulgent little fic! Pronouns for reader are she/they. Reader is also caribbean (I am reader lmao)

A very self indulgent little writing piece bc I'm sad and woke up alone today :( (my family was out for work and it's been a hard week for me aaaa) its unedited so probably filled w a bunch of mistakes lmao

Story below the cut! :)

You wake up, the heavy fog of sleep still pressing you firmly to the mattress. Even though your eyes are open, squinting at the dim lights of the room, you make out the voices and silhouettes of your loved ones. Price, or at least whatever sounds like him, was in the kitchen, talking lowly to someone. His voice was still gruff with fatigue but he sounded calm and content. You could hear the static of the TV from the living room, some sort of sport channel was playing. A stifled voice hissed over the noise of the TV, "keep it down, you'll wake them." That had to be Kyle. He was always so worried about you. "Sorry." That was Johnny. You heard the creaking of the couch, then the ruffling of pillows and blankets. "Oh shit!" A loud clatter on the ground, then the groaning of the couch shifting beneath Johnny's weight. "Hope you didn't break the remote." Kyle snickered. "Bah...it'll be fine. Nothin a little duct tape can't fix." The couch creaked again as more weight was added to it. The Hum from the TV soon got quieter.

"See? It's fine." Johnny again. You could practically hear Kyle rolling his eyes. Suddenly, a high pitched squealing caused your heart to stutter. You opened your eyes, only to then recognize the noise to be the sound of the Kettle. Simon's brewing tea most likely. You heave out a sigh, placing a hand on your chest to feel the beating of your heart slow down again. That sound was enough to wake you. You sighed and rolled over, tightening the sheets around you. The mattress beneath your body heaved out an angry creak from the shift of your weight. Suddenly, footsteps and a knock at your door. The hinges creaked as the dim light from the living room flooded your dark bedroom. "Morning sleeping beauty." You could hear the smile in Price's voice.

Lifting the covers off of your head, you turned to peek at him within your nest of blankets. His smile then turned into that signature grin, the one that makes him look like a big soft teddy bear. Walking toward your blanket burrito, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the hem of your Bonnet and sliding it back down onto your hair. "Left your breakfast on the stove. You can heat it up when you're ready." Wrapping his arms around your big cocoon, he gave you a tight squeeze before exiting the room. "Princess is up?" Kyle asked. "Might need a minute or two to rest. Best you boys leave her be for now." You could hear price grunt and the Crack of his back as he leaned down to press a kiss to either Johnny or Kyle. Honestly, maybe both.

You rested for about 10 more minutes before lifting yourself out of bed. Shivering at the cool air of your room, you reached for a nearby sweater. Pulling the hoodie over your head, you realized that it was Simon's. He probably forgot it in here when he kissed you goodnight. You then reached over your bed and grabbed your favourite plushie, snuggling it close to your chest before stepping out your room. Johnny and Kyle were snuggled up on the couch and greeted you both with soft smiles.

"Mornin, Hen. You sleep well?" Johnny's voice was soft. He opened his arms for a hug. Approaching your boyfriends, you then kneeled on to the ground and wrapped your arms around their waists. Resting your head in Kyle's lap, you then looked up at Johnny with a smile. "Yeah..I slept good.".

"Glad to hear it, babygirl." Kyle leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before reaching down to affectionately squeeze your shoulder. The three of you stayed like that for a while, enjoying the warmth of one another along with the hum of the TV.

Johnny let out a yawn, stretching his arms and groaning at the quiet 'pop' of his shoulder. "Price and I tried to make ackee and saltfish. I think it turned out pretty okay. We left you a plate for breakfast." You felt your mouth water at the thought of breakfast. You weren't really hungry the night before so you skipped on dinner. "You mean to tell me, your pasty Scottish ass combined with John's British self, both tried to make a Caribbean dish?" You laughed. "Emphasis on tried." Kyle added, a small snicker of his own. "Well...I thought it was okay..." Johnny looked a bit sheepish. "We did end up burning the bake though...But you can't fault us! Its hard as shit to fry dough in oil.". You laughed, getting up off the floor and holding your stuffy close, "Well, I haven't even tried it yet. I'll be the judge of if you disgraced my culture or not." leaning down, you press a kiss to both of your boyfriends before walking toward the kitchen.

The aroma of ackee and saltfish filled your nostrils along with....Chocolate tea? At the table, Price sat with a mug of coffee and a few papers from an overdue report. Simon stood at the kitchen island with two mugs of tea. "Hey, lovie." He smiled, lifting his balaclava over the bridge of his nose to take a sip of the tea. You made your way over to Price, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his temple before walking over to Simon. "Didn't know you like chocolate tea." You smiled, grabbing the cup next to his and taking a sip. The warm flavours of cinnamon, nutmeg, and chocolate hit your pallet, filling your belly with that fuzzy feeling of comfort and nostalgia. "Didn't know either till today. Price and I stopped by a Caribbean market earlier this morning. Saw it on the shelves and thought to give it a try." he shrugged before taking another swig from his mug. Setting your cup down, you then walked toward him and pressed your face into his chest. Your own lazy way of giving him a hug. He laughed before setting his own mug down and wrapping his arms around you, lifting the hem of your bonnet to smother your forehead in kisses before pulling it down over your eyes.

"Hey!" you playfully scolded, lifting it back up to your forehead. Simon took a playful swat at your ass before walking over to the stove and grabbing your plate of food. "Take a seat, I'll warm your breakfast."

Pulling out the chair next to Price, you then sat down and leaned your head against his shoulder. "Glad to see you up and about, love." Price smiled, wrapping an arm around you. Simon came back and placed your heated plate of food in front of you, "Enjoy." he smiled, leaning down to quickly peck your cheek and kiss Price before heading to the living room.

You shut your eyes, enjoying the smells and soundscapes that filled your home. From Price flipping through the various pages of his reports to the grumbling of Simon, telling Johnny to "move his thick ass over." on the couch. you felt content. You felt at home.

[inkdrinkerworld]

going through some breakup blues rn😞😞😞

could i please have smth w dealer!remus?? maybe she’s had a shit week so she goes to buy and her and remus hangout and he finally makes a move on her

miss my boy (dealer!rem) ((and also my ex pls help me💀))

aw babe im sorry you broke up :(( i hope this lifts your spirits a little

remus stops breathing for a short second when you walk into his apartment that doubles as his dispensary. he's sure sirius had let you in on his way out and he finds that he doesn't mind.

not when you're wearing his jumper from the last time you were over and a mini skirt that makes your legs look stunning to him.

"remmy, i need three pre-rolls, please." you slump down into his sofa, head dropping to his lap with a familiar ease that makes both your hearts jump.

you'd always been affectionate with remus, but it had been hard determining what was okay and what wasn't at first. he'd hardly smiled when you did anything flirty or flambouyant, then you had learnt his little tells.

like now, his hand pets your head and then falls to your shoulder. a light pressure and heat that bleeds into your skin.

"three? you usually only take two," another tell. he's always listening, always picking up on what it is you're saying even if you don't think it's super obvious. "is something wrong?"

anyone watching you now would think remus is being his usual self, but his eyebrows are a little too close for it to be regular concern. you're sure if you told remus someone was messing with you he'd sort them out even if he said nothing in the moment.

you sigh, shutting your eyes when his fingers follow the curve of your neck to the back of your head. "just school and work. think i need a breather this weekend." you say it all in one breath, relaxing into remus even more when he begins applying pressure to the base of your skull.

"how about you share mine with me and i give you two to take home?" remus pulls a pre-roll from his pocket and holds it out to you. "i'll give you the majority," he dangles the offer in your face and you smile.

"okay," remus lights it for you, taking the initial drag before handing it off to you. "thanks remmy."

you only sit up halfway, leaning into remus as you take hit after hit. your eyes go droopy, head feeling heavier and lighter at the same time as you pass of the quarter of the blunt that's left to remus.

"you wanna talk about it?" he asks around the blunt, watching you lay your head back into his lap and reach for the soft blanket that remus keeps on his sofa.

"not much to say, everyone thinks i'm disposable and that i'm just good for sex. it can wear you down." the way you say it makes remus frown.

"that's not all you're good for," he says it with enough conviction that your eyes set on him. "you're not just sex and those people are knobheads for thinking that."

you give remus a smile, a bright smile that makes his heart warm. he can't really imagine people only seeing you for your body, you're an incredibly astonishing person outside of that. but he knows how people think, and he's more sorry than anything else that you were victim to that thinking.

"i know you don't think that remmy, you're one of the best guys i know." you kiss the wrist of the hand that's back to working at the base of your neck.

"really?" he stubs out the blunt as he looks down at you, pulling the blanket higher up your hips as he sinks lower into the sofa.

"yes really, i know you wouldn't act like they did. i know you respect me."

remus smiles a bright smile even for him. both corners of his lips pull up even if only a touch.

"of course i do, you're the best person i know too dovey." he kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the sofa.

"do you think we'd date remus?" you ask after a couple beats of silence.

his breath hitches and he hopes you don't feel it. "maybe i'm waiting till i get a reservation to take you out," you twist in his lap, sitting up quickly. the movement causes your skirt to bunch up and remus brushes it down flat as you lean into him.

it causes remus to lean back, back pressed into the sofa as you hover over him. "you're going to take me out somewhere fancy?"

he laughs then, soft and low but it still sounds happy and like remus. "i can't take a pretty girl like you just anywhere, can i? gotta show you off, dovey." he pulls you over him completely, letting you lay on him. the blanket covers you both soon after.

"you're nicer than you let people think remmy," you rub your face into the his chest, nose breathing in his pine and mint scent that's fogged up with a little smoke.

"get some sleep, i think your memory is murky." you laugh softly in his chest, especially when remus pinches your hip. it's different being with remus, he's earnest in everything he does concerning you and it feels good- to be acknowledged in the way that he acknowledges you.

[bgwlsmahf25]

Trending

Pairings: Wanda x reader; Tony x reader (platonic); Kate x reader (platonic); Yelena x reader (platonic)

Warnings: mention of Wanda’s time with HYDRA; little bit of angst, lot of fluff

Summary: A TikTok trend gets you and Wanda to admit your feelings for each other.

a/n: this was cute to write! First Wanda fic :) happy with it! Hope you enjoy

“Y/n!” You look up from the book you’re nose deep in to see Tony come into the common room area, Kate and Yelena behind him. He stopped by the sofa and looked confusedly at you. “You’re young. You know about this stuff.”

“Young?” You feigned offence, putting a hand on your chest. “I’m wounded, I’m actually 24.” There was a short pause. “Wait - what stuff?”

“TikTok.” You burst out laughing as the word came out of Tony’s mouth. The idea of Tony Stark on TikTok made you crease up laughing. The others watched you in amusement. “Don’t laugh. I’ve heard it’s very cool with the kids these days.”

“Did you borrow that phrase from Steve? Why are you coming to me about it anyway – can't Kate or Yelena...” Your voice trailed off as Yelena glared at you and Kate just shook her head. “Uh, ok, never mind. What do you need from it?”

“I want to know how to use it. I think it could be the missing link I’ve been looking for between uh, some projects and the digital age.”

“He wants Iron Man on TikTok,” Yelena said bluntly. “And he wants you to teach him how to do it.”

“Oh god...” you groaned as Tony looked impatiently at you. “Fine, yes, I’ll help you.”

***

“I hate this,” you moaned, staring frustratedly down at your laptop.

“What’s wrong?” The voice made you jump, and you looked around to see Wanda walking towards you. She had a mug in one hand and a book which you recognised as yours in the other.

“Wands what are you doing up? It’s late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” The witch shuffled awkwardly then sat down beside you. “What are you doing up?”

“Trying to edit a video for Tony. He’s obsessing over his page looking perfect.” You sighed. “And that means every video has to meet his standards.”

“Hmm.” Wanda leant towards you to look at the screen. You swallowed nervously and hoped she couldn’t hear how fast your heart was racing. Being around Wanda was both comforting and infuriating at the same time. You had feelings for the Sokovian ever since you were first introduced. Something about her shy smile and warm gaze drew you in and from that moment on the two of you were inseparable.

It had started out as a friendship. Wanda was your best friend and knowing how much she’d already been through made you determined not to make her endure anything more. But that turned into longing gazes and affectionate touches. Kate and Yelena had both tried to encourage you to make a move, yet you couldn’t seem to do it. You didn’t want to lose your best friend if she didn’t feel the same way that you felt about her.

“What’s this?” Wanda was pointing at the screen.

“Hmm, oh, probably just some trend.” Idly you clicked on it without really reading the words.

It was a girl and a boy dancing around in an empty car park. The words on the screen read: ‘able to take my best friend on dates because the world didn’t end when I was 16.’ You smiled, watching the video but beside you Wanda tensed and then swiftly exited the room. A moment later you looked over and noticed she was gone. “Wanda?” You stared back at the screen and then realised.

...the world didn’t end when I was 16 – Wanda and Pietro were 16 when the Avengers found them working with Ultron.

“Ah shit.” You closed the laptop and ran towards Wanda’s room. Giving a soft tap at the door, there was no answer. You waited a beat then knocked harder.

“Go away.” Her voice was muffled and sounded choked, and your heart leapt uncomfortably, realising she was upset.

“Wanda, can I come in?” You took the silence as a yes and entered her room. You’d always loved Wanda’s room, particularly after you encouraged her to make it her own. Fairy lights were strung around the place. Plants sat on the windowsill, gently tended to every day by the witch. Her bedspread was covered by two large blankets and an assortment of plushies, most of which you’d given her.

She was sitting on her bed, facing the wall, staring down at her hands. You sat down gently on the edge of the bed and put a hand gently on her shoulder. She tensed and then relaxed into your touch.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “It’s my fault, I didn’t read what the video said. I – I'm sorry, Wands.” She let out a breath and turned to face you. Immediately you reached up, wiping away a few stray tears. “Oh honey... I really am sorry. What can I do?”

“Hold me,” she whispered. “Please.”

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach and crawled onto the bed next to her. Leaning your back against the wall, you reached out and pulled her against you, wrapping your arms around her, her hands clinging to your wrists. She leant her head back into the crook of your neck and you kissed the top of her head softly.

“I really am sorry,” you murmured. “I won’t show you any more videos. I just got frustrated at Tony. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, it’s not your fault.” She shifted in your arms to look at you, you held eye contact for a moment then looked away. Wanda turned herself further and you moved away, your heart still racing. “Why do you do that?” She sounded hurt and you started to worry all over again. “Do what?”

“Move away from me. I’ve noticed it for a while now. I come and find you or I sit next to you, and you shift, you put space between you and me. I look at you, you smile and then you look away. What’s going on, y/n?”

You gulped. The only reason you did all that was to try and combat your feelings for your best friend. “I - I don’t know.”

“Tell me,” Wanda whispered. “We used to tell each other everything. But lately I don’t feel as if you are.”

“I don’t want you to hate me. Or – or resent me for anything.”

Wanda put a gentle hand on your cheek, turning your face so that you were forced to look at her. Her gaze was soft, her eyes searching yours. “I could never hate you, y/n. Please tell me what’s going on. Did I do something to upset you?”

“No! No, it’s not you, it’s me. I – I'm sorry Wands. I just – we’re best friends and I don’t know exactly when it happened but I – I have feelings for you,” you ended in a rush. “If you don’t feel like that, I totally understand and I will put it behind me, but please – I don’t want to lose you.”

A smile lit up your best friend’s face and you looked at her confused. Her thumb moved from your cheek to run gently across your bottom lip, making you gasp and look at her intently. “I have feelings for you too,” she whispered.

You leant in, your lips meeting in a soft kiss. Wanda tasted like cinnamon and apricots, and it was intoxicating. When air became an issue, you both pulled away, touching your forehead to hers and smiling gently at her.

“I get to love my best friend because my world didn’t end at 16,” Wanda whispered, making you blush. “I may have been HYDRA’s puppet, y/n, but my world didn’t end then, it began. I found you.”

“I love you too.” You pulled the witch into a hug, both of you falling onto her bed, arms wrapped around each other and smiles on your faces.

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Gameboy

Billy Hargrove x NonBinary!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You didn't think the day could get any worse than this, but apparently you were wrong. tired from work, you came home and had to endure the shouting of your boyfriend and his little sister Maxine. Billy was going too far and you had enough.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 MDNI!! angst, blurb, very bad language, argue, broke-up, sigarettes, threats, intimidation, use of Y/N, no prounons NonBinary!Reader, theme about sex, theme about violence, anger issue, daddy issue, toxic relationship, bad ending. (Please be careful what you are about to read, the themes here are quite heavy and with a bad ending. If you don't feel like it, don't read, thanks)

𝐀/𝐍: My first Billy Hargrove One-Shot. I have to say that he's a character i dont have much interest to be honest, but if you want me to do more one-shots about Billy let me know! Please support new writers and reblog! Im sorry for my english, this is not my native language. Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

Fuck, fuck and fuck! You thought in your head when you wanted to scream. You had just left the bar where you worked and you could tell you had had a rough day. Your boss didn't stop tormenting you, by now you seriously thought he was mad at you. But that doesn't mean you stopped trying, moving forward and taking criticism and then improving yourself, but despite this the people around you seem bad every day.

You didn't have to think about it. Absolutely not! Now you would have gone to your boyfriend's house and he will surely console you, tell you that everything will be fine–wait...no. Absolutely not. You haven't done these things for almost two months because of your full-time job and the constant evenings where Billy went out, obviously not caring that you needed him. You tried to talk to him a couple of times to find out if something was wrong but he only answered "I'm fine, we're fine, why are you asking me?" You seriously started to think if you were the crazy one or if tiredness was playing a bad joke on you. Billy seemed calm and sees nothing wrong with your relationship. You didn't say anything. You knew the issues Billy was going through with his father lately, so you let it go and once again agreed with him, and blamed it on the stress.

You got to his door before you even knocked and Billy opened it angrily, which scared you. As soon as he noticed you he took a breath and gave you a simple "Hi" before letting you inside. It often happened that you went to sleep at your boyfriend's house, especially when his father wasn't there. As soon as you entered you felt a certain tension in the air and saw Billy take his jacket from the coat rack. You were about to ask something but the boy with golden curls beat you to it "Leave Max alone, that little bitch won't come out of her fucking room until I say so" With that I left the house slamming the door.

Right from him. He doesn't even tell you where he's going or with whom.

Apparently he had argued with Maxine, his younger sister. You completely ignored what Billy said to you and went to Max's door. You could clearly hear that she was crying and that hurts you. Since you met Max she has always seen you as a second parent: kind, helpful, affectionate and above all loving. You were happy to have this relationship with her and when she happened to argue with her brother, you couldn't help but go and console her or try to resolve the situation. Before knocking you looked around, the house was a real mess, or rather a disaster, all of Billy's things scattered everywhere, starting with: weights, ashtrays, porn magazines and gameboys. Shit...

You still don't understand how you managed to fall in love with an imbecile like him. So handsome with those curls and shining face but also so arrogant, messy and not very polite. You gently knocked on the door “Max, it's me Y/N, can I come in?” You heard the little girl sniff and she agreed. You opened the door and found Maxine in tears and her face completely red from the outburst. Her pillow was wet while her cleres were a shade of red from crying. She was lying on the bed and as soon as she saw you, her breath seemed to come back. You sat next to her while you used your fingers to fix some strands of her red hair.

"Maxine...what happened?" You said almost whispering. It took her a while to answer you but in the end she did "Dad...a little while ago he was here and he was arguing with Billy," she began "I didn't know what they were arguing about but then he started hitting him.. ." Her tone was shaky as she tried to collect herself "Did Dad hit Billy?" You asked and she nodded “Yes, the asshole” okay, you got the point. “I stopped him but after mom and the asshole left, Billy started yelling at me” you raised an eyebrow “Why on earth?” The question of when might be obvious seemed difficult for Max to answer. “I don't know for sure, he just told me that I shouldn't meddle in his business” you hugged her and she immediately hugged you back.

“I'll talk to him, I promise” You said and Max looked up immediately. "No Y/N, don't do it. He's too angry and I don't want him to be angry at you too" you smiled at his sweet thought towards you. Max was now like a little sister or a daughter to protect for you, you wouldn't have let Maxine spend the evening locked in her room even though she hadn't done anything "Don't worry about me, I can handle your brother" Oh well, knowing how to handle Billy Hargrove was a big word, but that didn't stop you from consoling Max and preparing her some snacks to stop her crying.

You laughed and joked and Max had finally regained her smile and as if you were a good parent you put a blanket over her while you turned off the light, leaving Max to sleep peacefully. After at least fifteen minutes, Billy came home with a bottle of beer in his hand, you snorted at the sight. You had been waiting for him all evening and you would have at least hoped that for once he wouldn't come back drunk although he seemed quite sober.

"Where have you been?" You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest. He looked at you with a face that got on your nerves, he was bored.

"I asked you, where have you been" You repeated and he made a small moan and then replied "Outside for some fresh air" You didn't want to ask why he was drunk, you had gotten used to it by now so you let it go. Meanwhile he had thrown his jacket on the sofa.

"Why did you and Maxine argue?" Billy turned to look at you. He sat comfortably on the living room sofa bare-chested while he was ready to light his cigarette which he held between his lips. "Where's Max?" He asked "In her room to sleep after you made her cry" his face didn't change a bit, he was serious and definitely bored "Y/N, I specifically told you to leave Max alone, she was supposed to stay in her room " you nodded "In fact, she stayed in the room, but I kept her company" He let out a laugh and then looked back at your figure "You shouldn't have interacted with her" you shook your head "I'm sorry Billy, but I don't stay at your rules" at that statement he took the cigarette out of his mouth "I just want to know why you picked on her, you know I don't like seeing you or your sister like this"

"It's none of your business. What happens here is none of your business Y/N" you were shocked "Excuse me? You're my boyfriend, what happens to you is a fact that until proven otherwise concerns me too" You took a few steps closer towards the sofa. Billy giggled again and you were sure that the next one he would make would drive you mad "And let's hear, why on earth?" You gave an obvious look "Um, hello? We're engaged Billy, engaged!" You timed the last word well "Oh right, I forgot" he said it in a sarcastic way and now your nerves were getting frayed "Oh, I'm sorry this is weighing on you Billy" you too played the sarcasm card and he rolled his eyes "What the fuck Y/N! Now I have to tell you everything I do?" You nodded quickly "Yes, you piss me off that I have to tell you where I'm going, with who and why otherwise you'll ban me from going out" You almost screamed but then lowered your voice remembering Max in the other room.

Billy had lit his cigarette in the meantime "But that has nothing to do with it -" you stopped him while your blood was boiling "It certainly has something to do with it William!" Your eyes were different, they were like Billy had never seen them and when you used his real name he understood that you were seriously pissed. Billy hates being called by his real name and you knew it very well, you did it on purpose. You wanted him to understand how serious you were and how tired you were of the current situation.

“How dare you call me?” Even though he was drunk, Billy was high and his eyes were fixed on you as they gave you a horrible feeling. They wanted to intimidate you, but you weren't like that and he knew it from the first moment he met you. Even if you were afraid that he would knock your teeth out and then make you spill all your blood until you apologized, but you were brave and you wouldn't let yourself be bossed around.

You pointed your finger at him "Oh no! Don't try to make that angry dick face because I'm the angry one, you understand?" He was surprised by your arrogant response "Things have been going on like this for two months and I can't stand it anymore. You barely look at me, all you do is go out in the evening and you don't even tell me where you're going, but you do it when you're too drunk to drive and I have to pick you up" You started and he looked like he was listening intently "And this happens every Friday night Billy. I come home from work tired and destroyed by those filthy pieces of shit and instead being close to me all you do is complain" He snorted and now gave you a different look. He put the cigarette in the ashtray, even though he hadn't smoked it at all. He seemed calm and approached you smiling lovingly... was it the alcohol by any chance? Or maybe bipolar?

"Okay honey, you're right. I'm sorry, now how about we go relax over there–" you pushed him. You were disappointed. His response disgusted you more than expected "No Billy. You won't play your fucking game on me telling me I'm right when in reality you just want to take me to bed and fuck me the way you like it" his face was back and angry more than first "But apparently the other times you didn't hesitate to open your legs for me" it was cheeky and disgusting and you slapped him. You had become a burning fire and you were sure that you would burn him and his house down "Because I was blinded by a filthy imbecile asshole like you. I thought you loved me..." You felt the burning in your eyes as your eyes became shiny. You were too weak to face the truth but you needed it...as much as you loved that boy with all your heart, he would never love you "Oh so now it's me not loving you?" He said dramatically and the tears came out and this time you screamed "Billy, you never console me and only seek me out when you feel like having sex with me. What did you take me for? A toy? I'm your fucking gameboy by any chance?" He tried to answer but couldn't find the right words and blurted out "Shut your mouth" your nervous system was out of control and you raised your voice again "Not this time Billy! Not after I've opened and closed it as you please!"

Now you didn't care who could hear you or who you would disturb. You were tired. You didn't want this. You wanted a serious relationship with a serious person. You wanted someone who values ​​you and takes care of you when you need it, always available and who doesn't see you as a sex toy giving you false illusions. "Calm down, young lady! Show respect" you looked at him and in front of you you had another person. Not Billy Hargrove, but William Hargrove...the real him. Despite everything he was that and you were sorry for ruining yourself by being around him. You didn't think he would ever threaten you, an attitude you hated and hoped your boyfriend wouldn't attribute to "Wow...now you're threatening me?" Billy later realized what he said and didn't reply "Congratulations Billy Hargorve. You ruined my life. You made fun of me and took advantage of me and used me to please your cock when it got hard and needy. But worse…you became your father” you never thought you would say it, but you did. With that sentence you knew you would unleash his anger and you didn't give him time to react "It's over." You announced and then headed towards the door and exited the house as he yelled after you in anger. You didn't want to hear it or deal with it ever again. You had endured enough and it was time to end it.

You had ended a year-long relationship and you now ask yourself in tears as you walked quickly to your house as you had done. You didn't know that obviously. You will never understand, you loved him, what did you need to know or realize? As beautiful and magical as love could be, it was also blind and cruel. It seemed to be a difficult game where the only possibility of victory was to survive until the game itself got tired of testing you, and then it throws a truth in your face that you would rather ignore. But ultimately it was better to suffer for the truth than to live in something that didn't exist.

Now you needed to get up and continue to live your life but you weren't motivated to move forward and live like you did before working, especially now that the only person you loved was just a liar who loved playing with people's feelings and what's more he preferred masturbating to porn magazines than spending sweet moments with you. Would you have suffered? Yes. And you don't know for how long, but you hoped for little since you couldn't cry and dry up your tears for someone who never deserved you and who the only thing he ever worshiped was your body.

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 5

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Chapter notes: You guessed it, there's more smut here! It's easy to skip.

You may have noticed the number of chapters has decreased, but the word count continues to go up. I'm not as verbose as our dear Ezra, but I think this will be around 35k when all is said and done.

“Hey, kiddo. Can we talk?”

He’s sitting at the kitchen table when she comes downstairs at a run. He’s going to tell her, he’s decided. It’s been months of sneaking around. He’s gotta do it.

“I’m late, I’ve got patrol training,” she says, grabbing an apple off the bowl on the counter and holding it in her mouth while trying to shoulder her pack and put on her shoes at the same time. “Mermer?”

“Whats’at?”

“Remember?” she says, pulling the apple from her teeth, taking a big bite in the process. “I told you last–”

“Yeah, last night. It can wait. Y’all be back for dinner?”

“Uh-huh sure. But I really gotta go, dude, Jesse’ll have my head if I’m not at the stables, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tonight,” he says, and then she’s out the door with a wave and a muffled “bye”.

She’d been on him to start patrol training the day after her birthday and he’d obliged despite a million reservations. But Tommy reassured him it was safe; they took the kids on training exercises through areas recently cleared by regular patrols and she’d be partnered with an older, more experienced patroller. She’d been more than capable on the road, and that was before she’d known how to shoot a rifle or ride a horse.

But that was also before he’d cared enough to worry about her like his own.

She’ll be fine , he reminds himself, finishing his coffee. And tonight he’ll tell her about Ezra.

Today he’s at a construction site on the west side of Jackson, working alongside Tommy and a handful of others to repair and restore a cluster of homes for the expanding community. It’s familiar work, the kind that keeps his hands occupied and his mind quiet–just what he needs.

They’re wrapping up leveling the front porch on one of the houses when he spots Maria lingering on the sidewalk. Something in the gravity of her expression has Joel’s hackles up before she can open her mouth.

“There was a…situation.”

He catches fragments of what happened through a haze of barely contained panic.

Patrol training came back with one less kid. The last group had swept the area, believing it to be clear. Trainees were sent out in pairs. A stray infected caught two of the boys by surprise.

One was bit.

“Ellie’s fine, Joel, she’s–”

“Where is she?” he barks.

“She went home, but–”

Joel storms off without waiting for her to finish, without gathering his tools, heart beating Ellie’s name in his throat.

He finds her in her room, whole and unharmed, but his relief is short-lived.

She sits on her bed in a t-shirt, holding out her right arm and staring at her scar. It’s unbandaged, unwrapped, on display. She’s normally meticulous about keeping it covered; the sight of her bare skin and the vining, twisting threads underneath sets a pit of dread to root in his stomach.

“Ellie…?”

She looks up at him, eyes two dark pools of hurt. She doesn’t have to speak the words for him to know that’s what she’s thinking.

I could have prevented this.

It should have been me.

“Hey…”

He steps into the room on tentative feet. She barely acknowledges his presence when he sits beside her, puts an arm around her shoulders, and pulls her to his side. She doesn’t cry, doesn’t say a word, just presses herself against his ribs and lets him hold on.

The town holds a funeral and she insists on attending, watching as they lower the boy’s roughshod wood casket down. Joel puts a heavy hand on Ellie’s shoulder in sympathy, feels only a flicker of shame when all he can think is that he’s glad it’s not her body going into the ground.

She’s withdrawn in the days following, and it feels like the aftermath of Silver Lake all over again. Instead of stomping around the house in a huff, the place is eerily quiet. There’s no loud music, no swearing, no questions or conversations beyond a simple yes or no, or telling him where she’ll be during the day. Her new guitar gathers dust in the corner of her room, never played.

She goes back to patrol training after four short days. They have a big fight about it, but in the end, Joel doesn’t have the strength to tell her no. She seems determined to make herself useful, though he suspects it’s more a self-imposed penance.

This is the world you wanted , she seems to say with every look, every stilted word. This is the choice you made.

More than once, he catches her staring at her scar.

Now it’s he who can’t sleep at night. He stays awake in a vain effort to keep the bad dreams at bay. He paces the halls of their home and lingers in her bedroom doorway. He takes solace in her sleeping form, her face relaxed, no longer pinched and drawn by the weight of their secrets.

He dreams he’s in a hospital holding Ellie’s bloody corpse, the back of her head cut open and gleaming and horribly empty. It thunks hollowly, sickeningly against his shoulder as he runs through endless hallways from a faceless, nameless thing. He’s never fast enough, never strong enough, never has enough time. Sometimes Sarah is there, mocking him, shaming him, and sometimes he just runs until he wakes, breathing hard, sweating through his bedsheets.

If she has nightmares, she doesn’t tell him.

It’s been over a week since the boy’s death. Ellie is stony and withdrawn, and Joel is running out of ideas, sleep-deprived and desperate.

He’s headed to see Ezra, surprised to see her coming down the porch steps with her head hung low and hands stuffed in her pockets. She jumps a little when she sees him coming.

“Hey, what’re you–”

“Hey,” she mumbles.

“Thought you had kitchen duty.”

“I do. And I’m gonna be late, so…I’ll see you tonight,” she says, bypassing him and veering up the street toward the caf.

“Ellie, wait–”

She doesn’t answer. He catches motion out of the corner of his eye; Ezra, watching from the door. 

“What was that about?” Joel asks. It comes out accusatory, almost mean.

Ezra bites his lip. “I believe we have what we in the profession call a conflict of interest. I…can’t in good conscience tell you.”

He doesn’t know whether to be relieved or angry as he watches the back of Ellie’s hoodie disappear around the corner.

“Guess I should be grateful,” he sighs finally. “‘Cause she sure as hell ain’t talkin’ to me.”

Ezra bites his lip, steps aside wordlessly and gestures him inside.

“I’m fuckin’ this up, Ez,” he whispers as the door closes behind him, surprised to find his throat thick with tears. “I’m…I dunno what to do.”

A pause, and then Ezra’s arm comes around him wordlessly. Joel ducks his head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of him, oaky and warm like his favorite whiskey.

He places a chaste kiss on the edge of his collarbone as Ezra’s hand comes up to cradle the back of his head. He mouths at the skin there, drags his lips against the stubble under his jaw, feeling a desperate need to sate something, seeking a kind of comfort he’s only recently become reacquainted with.

“Songbird,” Ezra whispers hesitantly.

“Please,” Joel growls low in his throat.

Ezra takes him by the hand and leads them upstairs.

+++++++++++++++++++++SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++++

Minutes later and he’s buried in Ezra to the hilt, dragging his cock slowly in and out as the shower pelts them with lukewarm water. Ezra braces himself on the tile with his forearm as Joel tries to control his pace, hands on his hips with an iron-tight grip.

“Take what you…need, cher . I like my pleasure…with a little…pain.”

That whittles down the last of Joel’s resolve. He leans forward, braces one hand on the wall while the other grabs at Ezra’s ass, driving his hips again and again, rutting hard until they’re both panting with the effort. Ezra’s grunts and moans reverberate throughout the tiny bathroom, and Joel hopes like hell Cee isn’t home, or at least wearing her headphones, because there’s no way they’re being quiet enough.

His hand finds Ezra’s on the cool tile wall, interlacing their fingers as he hurtles toward his release, pleasure already gathering, licking tendrils of heat up the base of his spine. His other hand slides around to stroke Ezra, to try to bring him along, but he’s too far gone now. The angle and the sweet slick clench around him has him toppling over the edge, spilling into him with a sharp cry.

He wraps one arm around Ezra’s shoulders and hauls him up, front flush to his back, sagging sideways against the wall for support when his legs threaten to give out. He presses a kiss to Ezra’s nape as he comes down, licks the dappled water from the base of his neck.

“Bed, mon cœur ,” Ezra pants, still rock hard in Joel’s palm.

Ezra lies down and Joel crawls over him, settling on top with one thigh nestled firmly between both of his. He’s entranced by the slick slide of Ezra’s tongue between his lips, focused on slow, tender kisses that have Ezra arching his back, rutting his unsatisfied length against Joel’s thick, muscled thigh, seeking friction.

“Alright, alright,” he soothes, nipping at his plush lower lip, swallowing his moans as he grinds down, adding pressure as Ezra’s cock slicks his thigh with precome. If he were fifteen years younger he’d probably be ready to go again, but he’ll settle for taking his time, drawing out every meeting of their lips until Ezra’s wriggling beneath him becomes too insistent.

“ Cher , please, for the love of all that is good and holy, this is torture and I must insist you–ah–give me something more to work–ohhh fuck–work with.”

“Behave,” Joel growls, and he feels the kick of Ezra’s arousal against him in response, the sound of a whimper that makes him feel heady and drunk with power.

He slides down his body, feels the clench of Ezra’s fist in his hair as he takes him in. Watches the other man’s expression, all heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips, when his tongue traces his frenulum, dragging it flat along the head before enveloping his cock completely.

Ezra’s eyes roll back and his head drops to the pillow, the elegant arch of his throat bared with a vulnerability that makes Joel’s heart clench with something like love.

“Songbird, I–Christ, man–“

“I got you,” Joel whispers, taking him as deep as he can, clenching his throat around him until Ezra’s fist tightens its grip. Joel lets out an involuntary moan at the sensation, feels Ezra’s cock throb against his lips, the hot rush of come at the back of his throat.

+++++++++++++++++++END+SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++

In the aftermath, he’s exhausted. The release and the physical exertion coupled with lack of sleep has his eyes threatening to slip shut with his head pillowed on Ezra’s thigh. He feels a hand come around his back, urging him up, and his limbs cooperate long enough for him to settle in the crook of Ezra’s good arm.

He must drift off for a while because the light has changed when he opens his eyes; it’s warmer, richer. Ezra is still there, absently twirling his fingers in the damp curls at the base of Joel’s neck.

Really should cut my hair , he thinks groggily. Gettin’ worse than Tommy.

“Hello, songbird.”

Ezra’s voice is soft.

“Hey,” he rasps. “Sorry. Haven’t…been sleepin’ much.”

“It’s no trouble,” he murmurs. 

“You got any more, uh, clients today?”

“Not a one,” his voice is low and smooth. “I’m all yours.”

Joel is too blurry around the edges to consider the deeper implications there.

He doesn’t know what prompts him to speak, but skin-to-skin in the soft light of the dwindling afternoon, the words come easier.

“Ellie’s immune.”

Ezra raises an eyebrow, but there’s no surprise in his expression.

Joel considers him, makes the connection. “But she told you that already, huh.”

For a man who loves to hear himself talk, Ezra remains infuriatingly quiet.

Joel nods. “Alright then. She tell you anythin’ else? About Salt Lake City?”

Ezra takes a deep breath, lets it out in a rush. “I wouldn’t betray her trust–”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Joel, as much as I–”

The use of his first name sounds foreign, almost like an admonishment, a warning.

“I know ,” he snaps, then softens. “I get it. I’m just…she’s fadin’, Ez. I don’t know how to get her back.”

An awkward quiet settles between them.

“How ‘bout…I’ll tell you,” Joel sighs finally. “Maybe it’ll help you help her. Like…before.”

Ezra bites his lip. “Alright. I’m listening.”

“I used to do a certain kinda…trading back in the QZ. Mostly pills and cigs, booze, sometimes weapons, ammo. Tommy was part of that for a while, then he left on some dumb crusade with the Fireflies. We lost touch an’ I got worried he’d bit off more than he could spit.

“So my, uh, partner an’ I took a job. We were supposed to take this kid to the Fireflies in exchange for a payment, supplies an’ shit, to get us out here to find Tommy. But everythin’ went wrong. Partner got bit first day out. Shit happened. By the end, it was just me an’ Ellie.

“She was a little shit,” he says, chuckling at the thought. “Kept beggin’ me for a gun, askin’ questions about stuff. Never had a minute’s peace. But she…she was smart, too. Saved my ass more than once. Had my back. We figured it out. An’ I guess…after all those months on the road…she wasn’t just a job.”

He swallows hard, suddenly wishing for a stiff drink.

“I had a kid before, y’know,” he murmurs, looking at his wrist, the tan line where his watch would be if it wasn’t sitting on the nightstand. “Didn’t, uh…didn’t think I’d ever have that again. Ellie…she did for me what Cee did for you, I guess. Made me better. Gave me back my life.”

The thought brings tears to his eyes and he pauses to wipe them away.

“Anyway. I got her to the Fireflies like I promised. But the cure they were lookin’ for came at a price. They were gonna kill her, Ez. They were gonna take out her brain and…I don’t fuckin’ know what they had planned, but she wouldn’t survive it. She was just a fuckin’ kid . I couldn’t let that happen.

“So I killed the lot of ‘em. There’s a fuckin’ river of blood on my hands,” he says drily, tilting his head up to gauge Ezra’s reaction.

A fingertip lightly traces the line of Joel’s jaw and his voice is gentle. “Terrible things have been done for less, songbird.”

“Don’t I know it,” Joel sniffs. “But Ellie…she ate it up. She believed it, all that cure bullshit. Now she’s out there thinkin’ she could have saved the damn world, and I’m the bastard who took that away. I got her out. Told her…told her there was no cure. Broke her fuckin’ heart and brought her here, and now…”

“She suspects?” Ezra prompts.

Joel snorts. “You know how she is, Ez. She knows . She knows…even if she won’t admit it. An’ I’m too much of a coward to tell her.”

“Hmm.”

“What would you do?” he asks, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes. “If it was Cee?”

Ezra grimaces, creases pooling between his eyebrows. “It’s not a fair comparison. Cee isn’t my daughter, and–”

“Bullshit,” Joel says flatly. “She’s as much your kid as Ellie is mine.”

A sharp look. “In your position…I suppose I would be reticent. But the truth will out.”

Joel goes quiet.

“Do you want my opinion?” he offers more gently.

“Wouldn’t be tellin’ you this if I didn’t.”

“If I may be blunt…your girl has endured far worse than words. The truth can’t hurt her any more than the world already has. It’s time to come clean, gut the fencer. Tell her.”

“Yeah, an’ what then?” he says.

“She makes a choice. Maybe it surprises you.”

“Are you tellin’ me this as her therapist, or as a…a friend?”

A deep sigh. “Both, I suppose.”

He considers him, then. The long line of his nose, the jut of his chin, so familiar, and yet…there’s a distance in his eyes. He wonders how much Ellie has told him, how much he inferred and intuited.

“I can’t lose her, Ez,” he says roughly. “I won’t survive it.”

“I know,” he whispers. Ezra’s hand finds his back, rubbing slow, careful circles.

“Look, I know you can’t talk about it. I know…she needs her space. But can you…can you just promise me…if she’s gonna do somethin’ stupid, you’ll tell me? Can you do that?”

Ezra meets his eyes, then his gaze darts away. It’s a split second, barely perceptible, but Joel recognizes it as a tell. “If I thought she was in particularly dire straits…yes, I would tell you.”

Joel shifts in the bed and the silence draws out. 

“I should…”

Ezra nods, pulls his hand away, lets him go.

Joel reaches for his jeans and tugs them on, then sits on the edge of the bed. The pit of dread he’s carried for the last week has resettled in his stomach.

“Look…maybe we should, uh…back off a little,” he says, throat tight. “‘Til she’s feelin’ alright again. Ain’t fair to her…or you…”

“I didn’t want to be the one to say it,” Ezra says softly. “Truth be told, I don’t want to do so, but…I understand…needs must.”

Joel leans over and kisses him long and slow, pressing his forehead to Ezra’s, letting himself stay in the moment just a little longer.

“She’ll come around,” he whispers, more to himself than to Ezra. “She’ll come around.”

But she doesn’t.

By the start of August, it’s clear she’s lost weight. The dark circles under her eyes grow deeper. She sees Ezra every week, and he and Joel pause their regular trysts. They keep things friendly but chaste, sometimes meeting for lunch or dinner, sometimes conversing on the porch while Joel plays music and Ezra rambles. The physical absence hurts like a splinter, like a persistent low-level itch under his skin, but the ache of Ellie’s slow and deliberate withdrawal cuts deeper.

And then, Joel finds himself in possession of a single can of Chef Boyardee ravioli and a sliver of hope. He trades an obscene amount of precious coffee crystals for the cheap canned pasta without batting an eye, happy to have some kind of leverage, tenuous as it is.

When Ellie comes home after her shift at the stables that evening, he’s ready with a plan.

“Hey, kiddo.”

She eyes him warily. “Hey.”

“Thought we could, uh, do dinner at home tonight.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Even for your favorite?” he says, holding up the can of Chef Boyardee.

Her eyebrows lift with mild interest; it’s not quite the reaction he hoped for, but it’s a hook.

“I dunno,” she sighs. “Think I’m just gonna–”

“It comes with a surprise,” he tries. “Y’don’t have to eat, just…come see?”

She sighs. “Fine.”

She trudges behind him to the backyard, where he’s set up a shallow fire pit with a bunch of old paving stones he found under the porch. An open fire is already crackling and popping and he’s dragged a big log from the edge of the yard over to use as a seat. On top of the ring of stones, he’s settled an old oven rack, upon which he places the open can of ravioli.

Hands on his hips, he turns to gauge her reaction. Her smile is tight-lipped and forced. “A fire, huh?”

“Yeah. Thought we could eat out here tonight. Kinda like old times,” he says. “‘Cept…”

He holds out a large wax bag, watches her eyes light up as she opens it and looks inside.

“Didn’t have these on the road.”

He’d traded Dina’s sister a week’s worth of work on her kitchen for a batch of homemade marshmallow squares.

“Oh, nice,” she breathes, something a little closer to her usual self. She’s already popped one into her mouth when he sits down.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” he says, all false admonishment as she takes a seat next to him, handing him a marshmallow of his own. It’s sweet and soft and melts like pure sugar on his tongue as they wait for their canned pasta to heat over the flames.

When the food is warm, they pass the can back and forth, sharing bites of ravioli until it’s gone. He’s heartened when she eats her share and more, if not with the same gusto from before.

Then Joel pulls out two sticks he’s whittled to points and uses one to spear a fresh marshmallow, handing it to her. Her treat catches on fire almost immediately, too close to the flames, burning the outside to a blackened crisp. She eats it anyway, traces of charred goo sticking at the corner of her lips, to the tips of her fingers.

He finally hears her laugh a little when he gets some stuck in his beard. Then she starts a jousting match, trying to knock his second marshmallow into the fire and almost succeeds, leaving him with a dangling gooey mess that he smears into the arm of her sweatshirt.

“You asshole!” she says, giggling. “That’s my favorite one!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll wash,” he says, too eager to hear her laughter to care about the laundry.

She wrinkles her nose, pokes at him with her bare stick. “It better, old man.”

She doesn’t eat ten marshmallows, but that doesn’t matter. He hasn’t seen her smile this much in weeks. Her laughter feels like cool water poured over the scorched desert earth.

“Fire pit was a good idea,” she says after a while, arms crossed over her knees.

“Still have those occasionally,” he agrees, then gets to his feet. “Not done yet, though. One more thing.”

“I hope it’s a fucking dinosaur,” she calls, and the levity in her voice could sustain him for a month.

He goes to the back porch and pulls out their sleeping bags from under the bench. He tosses hers over.

“Might be meteor showers.”

“Really? How’d you know?”

“Some space almanac thing. Cee was tellin’ us about ‘em, thought maybe we’d try and see what we can see.”

“‘Us’, huh?”

“Oh, uh, I mean Ezra,” he says, shaking out the sleeping bag and spreading it on the ground. “She told him, he told me.”

“Hmm,” she says, lips quirked in a smile. “Sounds cool.”

He eases down, quietly pleased when she spreads her sleeping bag next to his. She plops down and stretches out with a sigh.

“The sky feels so much bigger out here,” she says.

“Reckon it does,” he agrees.

They watch the navy blue backdrop above them grow dark, stars slowly blinking into existence as the sun dips below the horizon. A bat swoops and dips overhead, black wings barely visible against the darkening sky.

“Oh! See that?”

 “What?”

“You missed it,” she huffs, pointing to their right. “Shooting star.”

“Did you make a wish?”

She looks over at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “No, because I’m not five, Joel.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Never get your wish with that attitude.”

“Can you even see anything? Don’t you need, like, glasses?”

“Can see just fine, brat. Only need ‘em for reading.”

Another star streaks across the sky; Joel catches it this time and points it out, but she’s already looking elsewhere. She traces and names the constellations she recognizes, more than Joel ever knew. In school, they’re learning how to use the sky and the stars to navigate without a working compass.

After a while he tips his head, subtly trying to watch her, more entranced by Ellie’s expression than the night. Her eyes shine, reflecting all the wonders of space.

On impulse, he inches his hand over to take hers, nudging her arm in the dark. She hisses and jerks away at the contact.

“Whoa, easy…”

“It’s fine,” she says quickly. “Hurt it at the stables.”

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

But now he’s sitting up, a nagging, twisting feeling in his gut. 

“Kiddo, if you’re hurt–”

“C’mon, dude, drop it. It’s not that bad,” she says. He can practically hear her eye roll.

“But–“

“Fucking hell, Joel, it’s fine,” she snaps.

“Kiddo, I’m not tryin’ to–”

She’s on her feet with a growl, kicking the blanket aside. He gets up as fast as his knees will let him and follows her into the house. He reaches out to grab her forearm. It’s a light touch, not meant to hold, just to get her attention, but she hisses again at the contact, gives a little moan.

“Don’t!”

“Hey, if somethin’s wrong–”

“It’s nothing,” she says, but there’s a frantic edge to her words now. Something fearful. “Just don’t touch me!”

“Ellie, baby–”

“No!”

She’s almost crying, he realizes, her voice reedy and threaded with panic. His resolve hardens to a fine point.

“Show me your arm,” he says firmly. “Ellie.”

Defiant, chin trembling, she groans and pulls up her sleeve revealing her usual scar covered by a thick piece of gauze.

“What happened?” he tries again. “Did someone–did someone do this?”

She doesn’t answer. When he reaches out, she flinches away as if in fear, and that hurts worse than any silence or lassitude. He takes her firmly but gently by the wrist and holds her arm steady while he peels back the gauze. The skin where her scar used to be is bright red, blistered, and oozing.

“Jesus,” he breathes, brow furrowed. “How’d this happen?”

No answer.

“C’mon, kid. I’m not mad, but you gotta tell me–”

“Lye,” she says flatly. “From the soap place.”

“Lye,” he repeats. “So…so you did this? But why would you–”

She groans and rolls her eyes, yanking her arm back. “You still don’t fucking get it.”

“No, I don’t,” he says, trying not to raise his voice. “I’m tryin’ to understand, but you won’t…you won’t talk to me. You gotta help me out here.”

“I’m tired of hiding,” she grits out. “I’m tired of…of being a fucking freak.”

“You’re not–”

“Oh, fuck off,” she growls. “You said it yourself; they see this, they shoot me. Now they won’t fucking shoot me, right?”

“Yeah, but…you hurtin’ yourself was never the plan, kid. I never woulda–I mean I wish you’d just–why didn’t you–damnit,” he growls. 

“Well, I did it, so it’s done now, okay? You don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“Ellie, I will always worry about you,” he snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s my goddamn job.”

She’s fumbling to put the bandage back on, re-sticking the medical tape, tugging her sleeve back down.

Then an idea occurs to him; a horrible thought that latches like a leech, ugly and writhing on his conscience. “Did Ezra know about this?”

Her eyes tell the truth even as she spits at him. “Why the fuck does that matter?”

Joel closes his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Because…he’s supposed to look out for you. The same way I’m supposed to look out for you, and he–”

He promised.

“‘The way you look out for me?’ What, by fucking lying to me? How the fuck is that supposed to help me?”

“I didn’t–“

“Then tell me the truth,” she snarls.

“I…did,” he swallows, tasting the bitter swirl of the lie on his tongue.

“Whatever. I have homework. Going to bed.”

“Ellie–”

She doesn’t give him a chance to answer, just stomps up the stairs and slams her bedroom door.

Ezra is startled from his work when Joel storms into the greenhouse the next morning, door banging harshly against the frame.

“Did you know?” he fires off before Ezra can open his mouth. “Did you know she was goin’ to…to do that to herself?”

A pair of women look up from their conversation, frozen and watching. Ezra eyes them, then Joel, holding up his hand.

“Joel–”

“Answer the fuckin’ question, Ez.”

He doesn’t, and his silence is all the confirmation Joel needs. Red floods his field of vision. His fists clench at his sides.

“Let’s take this conversation somewhere more private shall we?” Ezra grits out, grabbing Joel by the arm and marching them outside, around the corner, until they’re tucked between the two greenhouses and out of sight.

“You were s’posed to tell me,” Joel hisses when they’re alone.

“I tried–”

“You should have said somethin’,” he continues, feeling like a live wire, ready to snap. He pushes in closer, crowding him until he can almost feel the other man’s breath on his face.

Something flashes in Ezra’s eyes, something cold and alien that sends a trickle of unease down Joel’s spine. A subtle reminder that, underneath all the pretense of their domestic lives, they are still two dangerous men.

“Back up, Joel, or I will be forced to make you do so myself,” he says through gritted teeth, calm and cold. His eyes have narrowed to flinty points.

Joel takes a measured step back, jaw working, shame and rage roiling beneath his skin.

“Tell me,” he grits out.

“If I thought she was in any immediate peril…if I had any qualms whatsoever about her intentions…you would have been the first to know. But it was her choice, Joel, made of sound mind and body. And a clever one, too, if I must be frank. She went to the clinic as soon as it was done, saw to it the burn was treated with utmost care.”

“So you were there ?”

“No, but she relayed her plans to me and I simply–”

“So she fuckin’ planned this, is what you’re tellin’ me? An’ you didn’t think I had a right to know my kid was gonna burn off her own fuckin’ arm?”

“She specifically requested I not tell you…for reasons that have just now made themselves apparent,” he grits out.

“Damnit, Ezra,” he spits. “What the fuck kinda therapist are you?”

“The kind that’s trying to keep her safe in a world that would rather see her dead,” he says sharply. “And I believe we share a common goal in that regard, so I’d kindly ask that you refrain from the insinuation that I have anything but her best interests at heart.”

“What about my interests, huh?”

He knows he sounds petty, but he’s no longer fully in control of his mouth. There’s a venomous creature in his chest trying to claw its way out, a panicked thrashing between his ribs that tells him she’s hurt, he needs to protect her, but he can’t, he’s failing again , and Ezra’s found himself in the crossfire.

“The welfare of a child takes precedence over your bruised ego.”

“Fuck you,” he spits out. He means for it to hurt, but the words come out sounding hollow. For his part, Ezra doesn’t fire back, merely glares at him from beneath dark lashes, radiating hurt.

Joel paces like an animal, wipes the back of one shaking hand over his lips. 

“I can’t…this…this ain’t workin’,” he huffs finally, voice breaking. He can’t bring himself to meet the other man’s eyes.

“Then it would appear we’ve reached a certain…conclusion,” Ezra murmurs.

“Yeah,” he whispers, breath hitching in his throat. “Yeah, I guess we have.”

Joel brushes past him none too carefully and stalks off. Ten steps down the road and he wants to take it all back, but Ezra wasn’t wrong about his ego. It keeps him firmly, painfully pointed in the opposite direction.

[saintsenara]

Can you elaborate on some of the deranged fan theories you mentioned you believe? ex. Ron is a latent Seer

thank you for the ask, @thesilverstarling - based on this post in which i mention some of the unhinged and deranged fan theories i believe.

these are:

ron is a latent seer

ron spends the earlier books of the series as a very specific children's literature archetype. he is the insider to the world of the story [whereas harry - the everyman protagonist who is also the reader's point-of-view - is not] and he fills in all the context that harry and the reader need to know in order for the plot to advance.

that's why early ron [regrettably, his conformity to genre-type gets nerfed in the later books in favour of hermione knowing everything - as per her archetype within the series' transition to a folkloric narrative, the helper - although he's undoubtedly the most street-smart of the trio even in deathly hallows] knows all sorts of baffling-but-useful information.

such as, in philosopher's stone:

"But it’s against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709, everyone knows that."

which amps up the stakes of the norbert plot line, starting up the narrative arc which ends with harry encountering quirrellmort in the forbidden forest.

but beyond his knowledge of facts and stats, ron also has a tendency - especially, again, in the early books - to advance the plot by mentioning as an incidental detail something which will then turn out to be absolutely crucial later in the narrative. his best example of this is this, from chamber of secrets:

"I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it," said Harry. "I wouldn’t mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either." "Could’ve been anything," said Ron. "Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would’ve done everyone a favour..."

i have always liked the idea that ron knows these things because he has some latent talent in divination, sadly unnourished by the fact that he thinks it's a bullshit subject and doesn't try hard at it.

ron is time-travelling dumbledore

this one had fans in a chokehold in the pre-half-blood prince era, after it was posted on a now-defunct forum, which can be found thanks to the magic of the wayback machine here.

the justification is beautifully deranged - the bit about ron not appreciating all the socks he has, dumbledore's sincerest desire, sends me into orbit - and i think we should all endeavour to make this theory have a comeback in 2024.

crookshanks was the potter family cat mentioned by lily in her letter to sirius

in prisoner of azkaban, hermione tells us that her new pet has spent a long time in the magical menagerie:

"Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he’d been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

maybe he's been waiting for years. maybe he's been waiting for twelve years?

after all, we know that crookshanks:

hates scabbers, whom he recognises as noted wrong 'un peter pettigrew long before he meets sirius.

loves and adores sirius - who was presumably around him a lot when he lived with the potters, seeing as he was james' best friend - to the extent that he throws himself in front of harry's wand when he thinks he's going to hurt sirius. as sirius says, the marauders' code was that they would rather die than betray their friends. crookshanks heard it while he dozed on the sofa in a godric's hollow living room as the boys were chatting shit in the kitchen.

is often shown being affectionate to harry in his time of need.

after careful vetting, very much approves of ginny. perhaps when he sees harry and ginny together he remembers his old owners. perhaps harry isn't beating the oedipus complex allegations...

all of which is to say, crookshanks is the trio's fourth marauder. no wonder sirius had him booked and busy for a full year.

george weasley is willy wonka

is a stupid bit of whimsy, outlined here.

stan shunpike is a genuine death eater

this is a fan theory in so much as i'm a fan and i believe it, but i do think it's quite convincing...

throughout the series, harry has an extremely black-and-white, emotionally-driven view of the world. in particular, he tends to assume that anyone he likes is good and anyone he dislikes is bad, and that his read on people is automatically correct. he takes against most of the villains [draco malfoy, dolores umbridge] or quasi-villains [gilderoy lockhart] on sight, and his judgement in this decision is almost always correct.

almost always.

it backfires on him a couple of times in the series - for example, in his immediate trust in the tom riddle of chamber of secrets, who he thinks must be on his side because he's an orphan, looks a bit like him, and isn't pureblood - even before we come to the big twin revelations of deathly hallows: that snape, whom he's always loathed, and dumbledore, whom he's always trusted, are more complicated than his usual way of seeing the world can allow.

but, in general, harry gets away with forming snap judgements on the basis of personal like or dislike. indeed, outside of three examples above, his instinctive response to someone usually ends up being justified.

the reader is, then, clearly supposed to take the same view as harry when it comes to stan shunpike's doings in half-blood prince and deathly hallows: that stan isn't a real death eater; that his arrest is illegitimate; and that, if he's implicated in any wrongdoing, it's because he's under the imperius curse.

but, i'm afraid to say, harry is dead wrong. stan - who, like so many other wayward youths who find themselves in lord voldemort’s orbit, longs for power - is a fully paid-up and sincere member of that organisation. he gets off scot free at the end of the war when harry vouches for him and spends the rest of his life chuckling.

delphini's existence is entirely plausible

this is a reference to a theory from a really odd little piece of fan-fiction called harry potter and the cursed child, which has as a central plot line the baffling idea that lord voldemort knocked up bellatrix, didn't immediately murder her the second he found out he'd done so, and became the reluctant father to a daughter with an even worse name than albus severus.

i should say that i've never actually seen cursed child, but it sounds like a scream. complete dogshit, obviously, but in an entertaining way...

i should also say that i am a delphini truther. i think she makes perfect sense as an arc in bellamort's weird relationship.

very few people seem to agree - delphini features in my fic one year in every ten as literally nothing more than a cipher for her father's neuroses, and the eye-rolling in the comments whenever she's mentioned is still going to detach a few retinas - but that sign won't stop me because i can't read.

i don't, i should say, think that she's planned. i think somebody was daydreaming about horcruxes when he should have been paying attention in slughorn's sex-ed lessons, and she's an accident. i like the idea of lord voldemort fucking around and finding out that even he isn't resistant to human biology. i like the idea that bellatrix - who, canonically, tells him to his face to stop being a dick and realise that snape's a spy - simply ignores him when he demands she terminates the pregnancy. i like the idea that, since he knows deep down that bellatrix wants a part of him that's fully hers - since he a) won't ever commit to her in the way she wants, and b) won't ever tell her that she has a piece of his soul in her bank account - he begrudgingly relents. after all - and i'll die on this hill - he does love her, in his own very strange little way.

as well as being a great tool for a bit of bellamort insight, delphini is a great next-gen blank slate for all sorts of people's character development. the resurrected voldemort of one year in every ten is in shambles over how much she looks like him when he was young. the harry and ginny of everlasting ink are learning through her that bellatrix wasn't just a deranged sadist, but was also quite a lot like their beloved andromeda and tonks. the narcissa of ecclesiastes three is debating telling her estranged sister that she has a niece. the merope of the shack at the end of the lane is discussing baby names and reflecting on falling in love with unsuitable men with the closest thing she'll ever have to a daughter-in-law.

i also think delphini provides a much more interesting example of the cycle of the series repeating itself after the war ends than teddy. both tonks and lupin dying at the battle of hogwarts, leaving their son an orphan - like gasp! harry - always feels so tacked on to me. but both tom riddles ending up with children they didn't really want and have no idea how to relate to, whose mothers are both dead, and who grow up simmering with resentment over being abandoned? inject it.

and then, of course, the final and most serious deranged fan theory i believe

hagrid is a death eater.

[hannahssimblr]

“Can I tell you something?” Alison whispers as we lay side by side on a bed, some nameless person’s bed in Dollymount. The sounds of electronic club beats are muffled through the floor from the kitchen beneath us.

“Yeah of course.”

“Don’t take it the wrong way though.”

“I won’t.”

She smiles, “I really, really like the stupid faces you make.”

“Stupid faces?” I have to look at her, so I prop myself up on my elbow, “What stupid faces?”

She giggles sleepily, all soft and relaxed after I made her come. I don’t know how I did it, by the way, it’s something that seemed to have happened by divine chance, leaving me with no solid idea of how it can be repeated, but now I have to pretend that I did it on purpose. “You just pull these really expressive faces, like,” she tries to imitate me, tugging her lip between her teeth and rolling her eyes back, “like you’re enjoying yourself so much, it’s so cute.”

I kiss her shoulder, “I am enjoying myself. It’s nice. Do you want me to be all serious? I can do that, I can be really stoic and manly if you like,” I set my jaw and stare right at her when I roll on top of her, “Alison,” I say in a deep, unemotive Terminator voice, “copulating with you is enjoyable to me, let us continue.”

“Stop,” she laughs weakly and squirms away, “and by the way, if you were a real manly man you wouldn’t even speak or make any noise. You’d just wheeze out these really heavy, ominous breaths.”

And would I look you in the eye like this?” I demonstrate, unblinking, “And would I be concentrating so much that I’d look like I was doing a shit?”

“God, no, in my experience guys don’t even look me in the eye. They bury their face into the pillow and then get embarrassed and start apologising when they come like they’ve just realised they’ve done something disgusting.”

I drop back to her side, “Oh, God. That sounds miserable.”

“Yeah that’s why I like your stupid faces, actually, and the way you look at me. Sometimes you even say nice things. It’s always pleasant with you and I never regret it.”

“I’m just blurting out random shit, it’s not exactly romance novel worthy stuff.”

“You said a few minutes ago, and I quote, ‘Oh Jesus, fuck, Alison you’re so fucking hot.’ Do you know how good it feels for me to hear that?”

“i can't be held accountable for the things I say when I'm about to come,” I say with a shrug, “and anyway, you are. I was just sharing the facts.”

She reaches up to touch my cheek, stroking the back of her fingers affectionately over my skin, “That’s the thing though, you’re never embarrassed about sex. You make me feel kind of special, or something. You’re a lovely boy, you know that? You’re just about the loveliest one I know.”

“Why does that make you sound so sad?”

She looks up at me with her big blue eyes and I can’t help but touch her too, brushing my fingertips up the side of her face while she lies there, still, red hair fanned out over the pillow like some kind of beautiful painting. 

“I’m not sad,” She whispers, “We’re just being vulnerable.”

“Hm, how are you holding up?”

“I don’t mind.”

It takes me a moment to realise that I, in fact, am the one that is sad, and perhaps it’s because I’ve been drinking, which is never really that good for me or the image I try to uphold, but an unexpected type of sorrow takes me over in a surge and I only realise I am about to say something very stupid when it is far too late. I am already saying it.

“Why don’t you want to be with me, Alison?”

She sighs and breaks eye contact, “Because that would be ridiculous. You don’t want that.”

“I think that I do. I don’t understand all of this casual stuff, I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to do it.”

“But you’re doing it, you’re fine.”

“No, I think I need more.”

“Jude,” she drags a frustrated hand across her forehead. I think I put her through this type of thing a lot, “you don’t want to be my boyfriend, you just think that you do.”

“I love you.”

She snorts with derision, “No you don’t, come on, you’re just lonely.”

“You’re right,” I hesitate, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, that was stupid.”

“I think that deep inside you’re just a sad little boy who wants someone to look after him, and now you’re searching for some poor, naive girl to do it. Right?”

“No, of course not. I just… don’t like being on my own.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t like how it feels.”

“You’re making a great case for us being together, by the way. Who wouldn’t want to go out with a guy who is depressed and gets really weird whenever he’s alone? Wow, he doesn’t sound clingy at all.”

“But you’re not making any decent case for not being together.”

“Being with me would probably ruin your whole reputation. You don’t want to be the guy who’s going out with the bloody village bicycle of fifth year.”

“Who calls you that?”

She scoffs, “Um, everyone, come on. You think I don’t know? I bet the stuff those rugby boys say about me is foul.”

It's true that the conversation in the changing rooms is so pornographic that it used to stun me, but I've been on that team for two years now and have realised that the conversation is always about the the same things, like whose arse cheeks were visible under the hem of her skirt, what they wish they could do to random girls in the hallway, big tits and blow job lips, invented scenarios with girls they will never have the courage to actually talk to. It's boring.

“I don't think I've ever heard them mention you.”

“Well then you’re just not listening.”

“Alison, yeah, the shit they say is gross, but even if they did talk about you, they definitely wouldn't be saying that you're the village bicycle of fifth year, come on.”

“Of course they do. But that’s what I get for being this way. I should just keep my legs closed, right?”

“C’mere,” I tilt her face gently to mine, “If they're saying that then it's not in front of me.”

I can't read the series of emotions that flash across her face, but her silences makes me begin begin to question if any of this is comforting at all. I continue, “and I swear if I ever do hear anyone talking shit about you in that dressing room I’ll shut it down straight away.”

There is a pounding on the bedroom door. 

“Hey!” Some girl yells, “Who’s in there? This is my room. Nobody better be having sex or something in there!”

Alison and I stare at one another. 

“Hello? Can you open up please? You can’t just come into someone’s house and start locking the doors as you like!”

“Hey! Piss off!” Alison yells back, which only increases the ferocity of the door rattling, “What should we do?” she murmurs.

“Probably get a move on, you think?”

“Yeah, might as well,” she lies spread out on the mattress staring at the ceiling as she tries to gather the strength to move. Finally she relents, “Okay, throw me over my jeans.” 

I pluck them off the chair that I flung them onto earlier and then start retrieving some of my discarded clothes too. “Should we fix up the room or something? Like, I dunno, take the sheets off? I feel a bit bad.”

Alison scoffs, “Why, so you can have them dry cleaned for her? Or do you want to go downstairs and put the washing machine on? No, you can put your condom in the bin but that’s all she gets. What does she expect? We are at a house party, and there is a bloody bed. Does she seriously think that people aren’t going to fuck in it?”

“You’re right,” I chuckle, “Get a grip, huh?”

“Right!”

“Loser.”

“Loser.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[leiawritesstories]

Mama's Little Pirate

Rowaelin Month, Day 13: Babies/Kids/Next Gen

a Fly The Black Flag outtake ;)) but you do NOT need to read FTBF before this

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: few swear words, otherwise none hehe

Enjoy!

@rowaelinscourt

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

The salty evening breeze had never felt so good against Aelin’s skin as it did that evening when she trudged up the sandy stretch of beach towards the faint smudge of a building on the horizon. Gently, the light wind lifted the strands of hair that were plastered to her neck and cheeks, nudging them away from her skin. Beneath her weathered boots, the ground changed from shifting sand to dark, rich soil and gravel, and she released a bone-deep sigh of relief. Solid ground still wavered beneath her feet, and she had to force herself to stay upright. 

She hadn’t battled her way to being the most notorious pirate on the ocean just for her damn sea legs to betray her. 

Swift as the wind, and just as in tune with her movements, Rowan caught her from behind, supporting her. “Don’t go giving out on me just yet, Fireheart,” he teased, a low, wicked glint sparking in his eyes. “We haven’t even made it home yet.” 

“Ass.” She swatted his muscled shoulder playfully. “And who said anything about we making it home? I thought you were all excited to scare the living shit out of Lorcan and Ells.” 

“Oh, I am.” His smirk was nothing short of roguish. “But I can’t let my wife collapse on the side of the shitty road before we can set that plan into motion.” 

“Such a gentleman.” Regaining her balance, she turned around, rose onto her tiptoes, and stole a kiss that was altogether too short. 

He rested his forehead against hers after breaking the kiss. “I’ll see you soon, my love.” 

“Indeed you will.”

With a final kiss, Rowan veered off into the forest, heading for the hunting trails where his horse was tethered. If all went according to the plan, he’d come home after Aelin and the others had finished dinner and make a “surprise” entrance. 

Aelin took a moment to shake out her complaining limbs before she headed towards the forest. One desire remained at the front of her mind: get back to her home and her daughter before night fully set, otherwise her beloved, if far too fussy, friends would send out a search party. 

“Hey, Cap.” Speaking of those friends…

“Ells.” Aelin turned to find Elide sitting astride her horse on the side of the road. Aelin’s own stallion was next to Elide’s mare. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Elide rolled her eyes. “Figured you’d want to get home before dinner gets cold.” 

“Aren’t you always so observant,” Aelin teased. She tossed her seabag into the saddlebag and swung herself up onto the sleek gray stallion, running an affectionate hand along his neck. “Thanks, Ells.” 

“Anytime.” Her first mate saluted, wheeled her mare around, and nudged her into an easy canter. “I’ll beat you home by five minutes, Cap!” 

“We’ll see about that!” Aelin crowed, leaning low and nudging her stallion into a canter. “Fly, boy!” 

Elide did beat Aelin back to the Keep, and the shorter woman was grinning widely when Aelin crossed the courtyard after leaving her horse in the stables and slapped two silvers into her hand. 

“All right, you win,” she fake-grumbled. “Damn pirates, taking all my money.” 

“As if you weren’t far, far worse,” Elide snorted. “And speaking of pirates, where–”

“MAMA!” The childish shriek was followed immediately by a rapid patter of small footsteps, and a small blonde blur came whizzing across the courtyard into Aelin’s open arms. 

Beaming, Aelin squeezed her seven-year-old daughter tightly. “Hi, lovey,” she murmured. 

“I miss you, Mama.” Evie whispered. Her big green eyes filled with irresistible tears. “You were gone so long!” 

“Oh, my Evalin,” Aelin breathed, tears inadvertently springing to her eyes, “I’ll always come home to you.” She kissed her daughter’s messy blonde curls. “You know that, right?” 

Evie nodded. “Still miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” Aelin cupped Evie’s rosy little face. “So, so much.” 

“Good to see you still alive, Captain,” drawled another voice from behind her. 

Without turning around, Aelin snorted dryly. “Salvaterre, the day you say that without irony is the day cows fu–er, fly.”

Lorcan smothered a laugh. “And you wonder where your child gets it from.” 

“I don’t, actually.” She turned the full force of her charming smile onto the hulking, perpetually scowly pirate. “She gets it from your sons.” 

He cracked a smirk. “Touché.” 

Aelin allowed Lorcan to drape his arm across her shoulders for a few seconds–his version of an affectionate hug. “Before you ask, the Doranelle is just fine. She and the Terrasen should be back in no more than three months.” 

“Better be bringing rum,” Lorcan grumbled. 

She snickered. “What if I told Ro that we were oversupplied here and didn’t need any more?” 

He grunted something too crude for children’s ears. “You’re the worst, Galathynius.” 

“Why thank you,” she crooned. “Don’t worry, Scowly, there’ll be plenty of rum.” She flashed him a wicked grin. “If you’re really lucky, it won’t even have been purchased.” 

Evie tugged at Aelin’s sleeve. “Dinner, Mama!” 

“That’s right, lovey!” Aelin scooped her daughter up and settled her on her shoulders. “We can’t go and forget the most important part of the day!” She strode into the brick-and-stone manor that sat at the center of the Iron Isles Pirates’ Keep. 

The compound comprised the manor, stables, a handful of smaller houses for other pirates, several different training buildings, and a number of storehouses built into different parts of the hill, some of them underground. Built primarily from the same gray stone that most of the Isles were made of, the fortress both blended into the landscape and loomed over it, a mark of the pirates’ protection and of their merciless reputation. 

Since the first building had been completed, six years ago now, the crews of the Terrasen and the Doranelle, as well as their smaller companion ships, had called the place home. 

After dinner was finished, Aelin was lounging in a comfortable armchair with a book and a drink, paying more attention to the children running around the large but homey living room. Evie had received a wooden toy sword from Uncle Scowly for her birthday, and she was barely ever seen without it dangling at her side. 

Lorcan was even teaching her how to wield it. 

Aelin taught her, too, when she was able to snatch a few moments to spend with her daughter rather than dealing with the bullshit that the unruly pirates were always throwing at her. 

Evie was play-fighting with Cal and Daric, Elide and Lorcan’s twin boys, all three of the children screeching and yelling as they pretended to beat the hell out of the Royal Navy. 

“I don’t wanna be the Navy!” Daric whined, stamping his small foot in anger. “You made me be them last time!” 

“Shut up!” Evie retorted, sticking her tongue out. “Last time, you made me be the prisoner!” 

“So?”

“So this is fair!” She scowled–an expression inherited purely from her father–when Daric tried to push back on her argument. “If you don’t like it, you can quit. Like a…” She fumbled for an appropriate term. “Like–like a pussy!” 

“Evalin Whitethorn Galathynius!” Aelin exclaimed, dropping her book in utter shock. “That was a very, very naughty word!” She folded her arms across her chest, firmly refusing to meet either Elide’s or Lorcan’s badly hidden smirks lest she explode into laughter. “Come here, Evie.” 

Flushing, Evie slowly approached her mother, sword dragging on the wooden floor. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she mumbled. 

Aelin forced sternness onto her face. “Evie, lovey, do you remember what Mama told you about naughty words?” 

“Only say it when I know what it means,” Evie said, quietly. 

“That’s right.” Aelin’s demeanor softened. She knelt down and wrapped her daughter’s hands in her own. “Uncle Lorcan and Uncle Fen like to say words they shouldn’t say in front of you and your cousins, and that means that you have to make them shut up.” 

Evie giggled and sniffled all at once. “I can tell them to shut up?”

“That’s right.” Aelin kissed Evie’s forehead. “So tell me, little love, which one of your foul-mouthed uncles said that word around you and your cousins.” 

“Um…” The little pirate girl hesitated. “It-it was…” She trailed off.

“Do you need to whisper?” Aelin asked softly. Sometimes, letting Evie whisper into her ear was better than having her say it out loud. 

Evie shook her head. “It was…it was Dad.” 

Aelin’s gasp of absolute shock was echoed by Rowan’s characteristic, I’ve-held-it-in-for-too- damn-long snort. “That’s my girl!” he crowed, stepping into the living room from where he’d been hiding in the hall.

Elide gasped. Lorcan whipped his head to the doorway. Aelin beamed–the “surprise” had gone perfectly. 

Shock, delight, and joy bloomed across Evie’s face. “Dad!” she screeched, throwing her toy sword to the floor and sprinting to her father, who swung her up into his arms, beaming. 

“Hi, little love.” Rowan hugged Evie fiercely. “Is it true that you called your cousin a naughty word? One that you heard me say?” 

She nodded, earnestly. “Mhmm. Daric was being a pu–” 

“Ah-ah, nope, shhhhhhh.” Rowan pressed his forefinger over his daughter’s lips. “What did Mama just say about not using a word unless you know what it means?” 

Evie sighed. “Okay, Dad.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smacked a theatrical kiss onto her cheek. “Want to show me what you’ve been learning with your sword, Evie girl?” She exclaimed in agreement and he set her down, then made his way over to his wife. 

Aelin stepped easily into his embrace. “Captain,” she murmured, laughter dancing in her bright eyes. 

“Captain,” he murmured back. He kissed her softly, snatching a quiet moment with her before their daughter pulled on both of her parents’ sleeves, demanding that they watch her “sword fightin’.” 

It was precisely the life Aelin had only ever dreamt of.

~~~

[relatableblorbopoll]

Round 1 of preliminaries, group 7

The first two places get a place on the bracket

Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket

Propaganda under the cut

Rigby (Regular Show)

"i relate to him a lot because he started the show as an insufferable piece of shit (i used to be insufferable too) and then he starts dating Eileen and becomes a better person (i became a better person after i started dating my girlfriend) and his friendship with Mordecai just reminds me a whole lot of my dynamics with my best friend. he really is just like me fr"

Angua von Überwald (Discworld)

"Okay SO she's a werewolf who ran away from home because her parents are awful and then changed her name. Her parents ignore her existence and when they're confronted by her they use her old name that she Discarded because they are the worst. She's a vegetarian by day and doesn't eat people at full moon (one drop is one too many) but she Pays for all chickens she kills because that's not what an animal does. She is So angry and So hateful and So wrong about So many things but she Learns and Grows through the books. When she falls in love she fully believes she will be chased out of the town when the clock strikes midnight because nobody can accept her for who she truly is but THEN her lover finds OUT and he is shocked and confused at first but he loves her and LEARNS about her and puts aside his prejudice and they both grow as people over the course of several books and I love her so much your honor she is just like me fr fr"

Cao Weining (Word of Honor)

"ready to risk it all for a pretty girl who can and will beat his ass. just wants to eat a bunch of good food with his girlfriend"

Aang (Avatar: The Last Air Bender)

"12 years old, told you’re going to be the most powerful and important person in the world—and that you need to start like tomorrow. I’d runaway too."

Okuyasu Nijimura (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)

"YES, he says he isn’t too smart but he tries his best, he yells a lot when he isn’t supposed to, he puts things bluntly, he is menacing with a heart of gold, AND HE MAKE THE FUNNY FACE"

Shin Tsukimi (Your Turn to Die)

"-He is extremely weak. A literal twelve year old boy is stronger than him. He struggled to open a sliding door cabinet. -He's a liar, but like.. some of it is super funny. He lies about just the most random shit. He claimed that he simply 'didn't know how to do a push-up', and that's why he didn't want to do one. When in reality, he's actually just too physically weak to do one. -He has major beef with, (and is jealous of), a random seventeen year old girl. He is twenty something. His number one worst enemy is some random teenage girl.... same, honestly. -He uses really... strange.. wording. I mean this very affectionately. But it's hard to defend him when he says stuff like 'riffraff' and 'casting pearls before swine'. -Terrible fashion. I mean, just look at him. -Autism. -He enjoys cute cat plushies."

[yeyayeya]

TGCF Season 2 Ep 1 Reaction (Part Three)

Hit my image limit again

Novel spoilers under the cut

HELLO LADY WIND MASTER

I love her hope nothing bad happens to her :)

But she’s so gorgeous holy shit. Shi Qingxuan the gender god. Love how different they look in their two forms, and once I heard the giggle from Lord Wind Master turn to a feminine one, I knew Lady Wind Master was going to make her appearance

She’s a whole ass mood

THIS IS JIAN LAN???? OMG MAAM HELLO????

My name is Feng Xin now I guess. But my brain was so caught up in the excellency of what is called Shi Qingxuan/Wind Master that I completely forgot Jian Lan appeared here. I suddenly remembered this scene and was so taken aback because they did my queen justice. Cannot wait for the demon baby to show up lol

The instant switch of her voice going from flirty to sassy is everything, but Jian Lan you need to redirect your attention elsewhere because this man is gay and has a “medical condition”.

I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY INCLUDED IT (well not really he didn’t say he couldn’t get erect but close enough)

Xie Lian me too

XIE LIAN ME TOO

His heart skipped a beat upon hearing Hua Cheng’s voice that’s so gay

He looks like a rat (affectionate)

He is hot tho. Ok but someone please come and brush Hua Cheng’s hair honey it’s going to get into knots

Overall: I did reread the second book (English localization) since it has been quite a WHILE since I last read this arc, but they followed the book closely and I cannot wait for the next episode coming out next week! (My boy is going to appear for like 2 seconds but that is enough for me)

I did not know if this was going to follow the revised version, but Xie Lian mentioned the bandaged boy towards Ling Wen and from what I am aware, Lang Ying was removed from the story by MXTX, so there’s that.

Honestly just really happy that this finally happened

[malka-lisitsa]

Well look at that it's 2024, and my new years resolution is to stay an unbothered icon queen, and hope the hater's die mad. But I also thought I'd take a second to shout out to the people who make the shit show of a year 2023 bearable, and even enjoyable in some cases.

As trash as the rpc has a tendency to be there are still a lot of you that make this place more than worth it. I clearly cant shout out to all 900 something followers but I can highlight some of you. If you're not listed don't worry I still appreciate you immensely for being here, these are just the people that have really impacted my time here so far.

@unsettledspirits / @zoomingupthathill what can i say that I already haven't. There's 3 months worth of daily reasons to love you. You built the one ship that beat Steferine with me, honestly it was a surprise to everyone. Happy to see you back on Max ruling over your ST kingdom.

@hybrid-royalty-main Damon you piece of shit, I hate you the absolute most, and I'm so glad youre here with all the boys tbh. You bring such a unique quality to each one of them. Especially were-jer, it has been an absolute HOOT watching you take on the challenges of a teenaged were pup.

@baby-royalty My sired child with loyalty so unwavering you make the sire bond in the show look tame lmfao. The universe pulled us together the second I stepped foot into this hellsite again and I have enjoyed watching you grow into the person and writer that you are now. I'm proud of you.

@klaeus Kiki I adore you sm, you and your knock off brand doppelganger and scruffy mutt hybrid (affectionate) I love talking about the show and dynamics and honestly just about everything with you. You try, and thats more than most people do for me. Plus your grafics are just chefs kiss.

@multi-royalty Maddie this is like 3 years we've been besties, the caroline to my Elena. I've loved watching you branch out into new circles of friends and grow as a writer. You're absolutely killing it.

@ofcrossrcads Cribby, my darling I adore you. You are simply the sweetest, and keeping you here aggressively as my friend was one of the best things ive done in my life. I am always right here if you need me for anything &lt;3

@hargrove JT WTF. How are you so talented? Honestly youre the bees knees and I am SO HAPPY to have reached out to write with you bc I wasn't expecting Katherine and Billy but here they are and tbh im here for it. Tho everything you write is top notch, you're just flawless with every reply. And for that reason katherine said, you can go ahead and keep your halfbreed in the dog house. LMFAO. But for real I am so happy to have met you.

@petrovawitch Kenz, Katherine says fuck you for bringing her pain in the ass sister back- but im really glad you did. We adore you both even if we're spicy at times bc you know were brats hehe

@havvkinsqueen / @stanfordprepped My fellow digidestins, I am so happy to have met you. Both of you are just pure goodness spun into a little ball of sunshine. Honestly the most supportive people ever, the RPC needs you desperately. Just please remember that I have your back just as much as you have mine. We digidestin gotta stick together. &lt;3

Ok ok ok I cant shout out to literally everyone individually so these people also are super important to me and have made my experience here this year amazing, thank you for all you do-

@langdhon@ravenskeeper@salvatoraes@sarcasticsnackpack@sithdestined@nexusvcrti@ofvalor@imundus@brokenbrxther@loyaltylanced@spellsigns@ruinedmyself@ravmalakh@touchedbydestiny

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

playboyy ep 12 stray thoughts

- “damn i hate myself” real

- first soong being cute 🥹🥹

- you know shits about to get emotional when the soundtrack switches to yoiyami

- “you called me a friend when you weren’t pretending to be nant” AND WHAT IF I LOSE MY MIND

- zouey and nont besties agenda

- OH GOD ZOUEY BACKSTORY wait noooooo

- i guess the evidence is staying hidden then like boy are they in their failvestigator era oh nvm they found something (that they already knew but still that’s more than they usually get

- promnont !!!

- hold on they finally showing zoueyteena. they can never just give a quick handy either always gotta be invoking the religious implications of a renaissance painting… good for them (yes i include the popcorn scene in this) also top zouey truthers this one was for you!!!

- what are you hiding under that tarp zouey 🤨🤨 i think it’s of nant

- hold on teena’s necklace lmao. is the t for troy no it’s for *too sleepy to finish the bit*

- NO GET A JOB!! STAY AWAY FROM HER!!!

- finna beat the shit out of jason lee give me 10 seconds i could take him out

- what does he mean by keep an eye on…

- oop that scarf zouey in his horse girl era

- THEY DOING WHAT TO WHO?!?!?

- she is not scared of them at all like two absolute kitty cats of toruturers MEKEKFKKRKRJFJFJF NOT THE DUSTERS I CANT

- the drop of sweat deserves an award for perfect timing and i’m being so serious about this

- AHH PROMNONT i can’t handle them being affectionate like it makes me lose my oh not the fuckass product placemntsjdjjdjdjrjrjjejdjr you know what i got me some promnont crumbs i’ll take it

- so i’m gonna see this scene expanded in fic later right 👀 i’ll give a million kisses to anyone who decides to do it

- they can never argue using simple sentences it’s always “i feel bad that you feel bad that i felt bad” and “im mad that you got mad that i got mad” and “if you have a problem that we have a problem than the problem is you’re invalidating my feelings” “i didn’t think you would think about me thinking” like besties….

- see but zouey was kinda right… why is he being made the bad guy, first and captain kinda pissin me off

- girl YOU got him expelled. captain needs to be fr

- NONT WITH THE BIG PANT CROPPED SHORT COMBO THATS MY MAN

- these college athletes are plain evil

- puen lowkey the only one in this show consistently talking sense. i hope he gets his licks back on these bum bitches cause i’ve had it with them

- the coloring the coloring the coloring the coloring the coloring the projection the projection the projection

- THE. HESS BOARD BEING PROJECTED PLAYBOYY SURREALISM FOR THE WON ONCE AGAIN

- captain talking big game for someone who took sneaky clips. hoping this shows growth on his part cause deep down im still rooting for him

- captain sweaty blow up the whole establishment i support you

- NO CAPTAIN THATS NOT WHAT I TOLD YOU TO DO THATS VERY MUCH MOT WHAT I JUST SAID YOU LITTLE BASTARD

- ooo the outro track finally making sense!! kejrjejdnjdj

- i love the when soong carries first

- oh more food, user @jeffsatyr i’m so sorry

- firstsoong enthusiasts we are so back oh there goes firsts fuckass dad

- captain needs to stop picking fights AND CAPTAINS A YANKEES fan i can’t defend him anymore

- puen fight back!!! he was going easy on captain cause he’s a nice little boy oh shit now aobs gonna kill captain isn’t he…

- captainkeenpuen enthusiasts don’t lose hope!!! we can still win!!

- aobpuen enthusiasts were so back

- THE COLORING THE COLORING THE COLORING

- the characters and 'accurately assessing the media their in' saga continues

- porsche looks like such a baby here. jump listen to porsche pls do not see him again

- cry by johannes bornlof is playing they fr pulling out the nuthphop ballads for the other couples today

- puen is my boy and i will lay down my life for him actually

- NONT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT IM GONNA WALHAT WHAT WYHAHW ok sorry yall him with the gun did sumn to me

- nont once again will not be caught slacking holding someone at gun point be damned AND ITS CAPTAIN WITB THE STEAL POLL?!?!?!?

- nont… i need to know how he picks outfits like did he want the color to match the gun????

- nont chuckling in the corner... i fear he’s lost it

- playboyy once again with the themes of tech and privacy

- captain is lucky puen is lowkey a pacifist

- nont and captain: torturing aob and puen for info about the murder, zoueyteena: painting time !!

- oh my god yall im getting chills like fr speechless i am so…

NUTH MY BABY BOY

- nuth coming through with his amateur directorial visions let’s gooooo

- nont being like “please do a little bit of torture, just for me, please 🥺”

- he playing the funeral violin oh it’s not ending well oh god

- jason lee you will crumble i am so serious about this count your mother fucking days

- nuth scurrying away in the back… also nont where is your marksmanship now

- puen keeps suffering tremendously and he doesn’t deserve a single second of it. free my boy he fr has never done anything wrong

- i think i was right and nuths screenplay is autobiographical

- THEYRE PLAYING AMBIVRLANT THOGUHTS AGAIN NUTHPHOP PIANO BALLAD ENTHUSAISTS WE STAY WELL FED

- nuthphop my beloveds i love them so fucking much you don’t get it no wait why he deleting them oh shit ! phop play shitty games win shitty prizes dawg

- welp

yall this might be one of the strongest eps in a hot minute i loved this one had me at the edge of my seat the whole time