#that told me to wite this...

[szczylpierdolony]

how do i tell my friend im sorry for nor writing anything in our essay today bc ive had one of my worst days in a while without coming across as a selfish pathetic dick

[romanarose]

The Ghost of You

Banner by my dear @commonmisery

Ghost!Joel Miller x fem!reader

TLOU 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU"VE BEEN WARNED!

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Summary: After moving into Jackson, you're put up in a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Can you help Joel move on to the next life to be with his daughter? Or will you keep him here selfishly with you?

Warnings: TLOU 2 SPOILERS, ghost!sex, mentions of violence and the things Joels done and what happened to him. bittersweet ending. Body marking and blood but it v consensual. It's loving.

A/N: This is my goodbye to writing Joel. I've made a few statements on thi before and if you've followed me for a while you know why. I won't rehash it. But I wanted to write this idea I had talking to @multiversed-daydreamer as my goodbye. i won't say it my last joel forever but it is for along time. all other series are cancelled. I am also just largely essening my writing for p-boys but I'll still be around witing frankie and javi and marcus sometimes. You never know. My main focus rn is logan howlett, triple frontier, and my original content

This is my love letter to the Joel fandom that has given me so much love and friendship

Looking for something similar? Brother by @macfrog is Tommy saying goodbye, and The Devil's Wife is devil!Joel, similar theme of halloween by @noxturnalnymph

8.5 words

It was cold. That was annoying. How you’d wandered your fucking way out to Wyoming, you’ll never understand. One minute you were in Florida complaining about the heat, now you were being treated for frostbite in your toes.

You’d arrived in Jackson last afternoon, nearly frozen to death and had been crashing in the clinic bed ever since. The doctor, a nice older man, took care of you and a few nurses checked in overnight, and today you were cleared to get settled. Word of mouth had told you Jackson was the place to go, a safe haven, a community where people actually take care of each other. Maria Miller, the town founder, had just left your room saying she’d be outside doing paperwork whenever you were ready for the short tour. You’d get the full spiel eventually, but right now the frostbite made walking a little hard. She'd just show you her office, the mess hall, a few quick essentials and then take your to your new home.

That was when you heard shouting outside the door. One voice was Maria, the other you didn’t recognize. It was hard to hear, but you listened in with your ear pressed to the door. 

“It’s been 3 years Tommy. I know this is difficult for you but-”

“You don’t know shit!”

“Excuse me? Who was there for you when you drowned your feelings in moonshine for years? Who took care of Walker while you went off on pointless revenge missions!”

“Don’t you bring him into this. Don’t fucking do that shit, Maria, you know I had too.”

A beat of silence. “You had to do whatever you had to do to deal with what happened. We forgive you, we took you back here and the whole town in glad for it. But Tommy… Jackson is growing. We need the space-”

“You never fucking liked him! You never wanted him around! I bet you’re glad-”

The shouting began to overlap each other, voices raising until you were uncomfortable enough with the man’s temper you grabbed your gun and opened the door, pointing it at him.

“Settle down there, cowboy. Ain’t nice to yell at a lady.”

*

The next few minutes were embarrassing, to say the least. Maria explained that Tommy was her ex-husband. She didn’t go into the argument, but she assured you, not without gratitude, that firstly she could handle herself, and second that Tommy wasn’t a threat.

After Tommy left with a pointed ‘fuck you’ in your direction, you turn back to find Maria rolling her eyes. 

“He’s a good man. I promise. Good dad, works hard, takes care of his people. He just gets… well, there’s some sore spots. C’mon let’s get you home. I bet you’re tired.”

Settled into the house that felt way too big for just you, your thoughts drift to the man. He was older, 50’s maybe? Dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and tired lines around his eyes, but handsome. He was so angry, and angry at you. What the hell did you do? You hadn’t even been here a day! Fucking unreal. Men were men no matter where you went, but their temper tantrums never ceased to amaze you. 

The house was pretty empty. You’d been given a few furnishings, but the house was stripped of all character, certainly taking apart everything the previous owner had. Had the place been occupied since the world fell apart? Or had someone who lived here died? You wondered how. You wondered if they had family, or if the town was their family. 

The kitchen had kindly been stocked up pretty well, and you’d been given some toiletries so after eating, you enjoyed your first warm bath in a long time. Running water, and it was warm? Fantestic. You boiled a pan of water and tossed it into the tub for some extra heat just how you liked it.

In bed that night, that’s when things got weird. You felt a coldness wash over your body, a shiver you didn’t expect under the warm blankets. Then the window unlatched and flew open. You gasp, fearful at first, but then justify that since it’s on springs, the latch must’ve been not done right and just sprung open. No big deal. But then you felt a hand on your cheek and you froze.

It didn’t linger more than a second. The touch was fluid, but not wind, not air. There was a roughness to it, the distinct feeling of a large hand cupping your face… but you weren’t scared. Instead, you felt calmed. Relaxed.

It became routine, after a few weeks, you refused to go to sleep until you felt it, the touch of warmth on your face, and you felt safe. It didn’t take long for you to believe you had a ghost; after the cordyceps, ghosts were never far from disbelief, something you’d always been open to, but the question was who.

That would be answered soon enough. You could just ask, yeah, but you wanted to find out, in their own words. As the days progressed, you’d been given time to recover and adjust before working, so you spent a lot of time settling into your house. This was not without its encounters with the ghost. More and more, they seemed to get stronger, able to do more, communicate more. There were items shuffled around, bigger and bigger until the couch was moved.

“I don’t like it there.” You said out loud, pushing it back a few feet.

They moved it again.

“Come on, you’re being annoying.” You move, just for it to get moved back again.

You throw your hands up in the air. “Fine! At least be useful and carry the chair upstairs.” No response, no movement. “Dick.” A gust of wind through your hair and you giggle.

You scribble together a make-shift ouija board, a circle tied from some guitar string you found in a box the ghost knocked off a shelf that must’ve not been cleaned. 

Candles lit, you cross legged on the floor, you try to get information. Requests for the name came up empty, but the string moved to  “yes” when asked if they were a man.

“How old are you? Or- were you?”

5. 6.

“Old man.” You chuckle when wind brushes your hair. You’d learned this was his way of teasing.

“How did you die?”

D-o-n-t-g-o-g-o-l-f-i-n-g

“Don’t go golfing? What does that mean?”

No response.

“Was that a joke?”

Yes.

“Well, I don’t get it. You know that, right?”

Yes.

“Fine, don’t wanna talk about death I see. Fair enough, never been there myself but I heard it’s not fun. Uhhhhhh got any kids?”

2

“Go on.”

2 g-i-r-l-s. 1 d-e-a-d.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that… where is the other?”

I-d-o-n-t-k-n-o-w

“Shit, i’m sorry about that too. Must be confusing.” Not knowing where your daughter is must be hard. “Is your other daughter with you? In the afterlife I mean?”

e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-i-s-d-a-r-k

That broke your heart. “Must be scary.”

Yes

Then, the string moved again.

N-e-w-t-o-p-i-c

a-b-o-u-t-y-o-u

For whatever reason, this makes you blush. You spend the evening telling him about yourself, sharing details and asking him the same. He didn’t like talking about his family, refused to answer any more questions. Wouldn’t say his name.

But it was the first time you’d been called beautiful over ouija board, you knew that much. 

Even after you began working, every evening you’d run home to spend time with this ghost of a man. The most people saw of you outside your day labor was a pop into the mess hall to take food home or the clinic as they checked you were recovering okay.

“Don’t see much of you.” The doctor commented. “You adjusting okay? I know it’s a lot to get used to.”

You blink in confusion. You were fine. Happy, even. Sure, you didn’t get to know anyone… but why would you? You did your part for the community, then you went home. Hell, you volunteered extra hours sometimes, picking up more than your fair share. You just didn’t want to get close, that’s all. People died, you’d learned that hard lesson early in life, and learned it over and over and over again. There was no point in making friends, falling in love. Not when it was all so fragile.

But you had your ghost man. He had already crossed that barrier, so there was nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.That night, you talked out loud to him about your day as you always did, he made little sounds knocking cabinets together or brushing a breeze on your skin to let you know he was listening. Sometimes winds rustled your hair when he thought you were funny. Then, the wind turned into a gust, and two firm hands pressed you down the hall, the message clear.

“Jesus! I’m going I’m going!” You follow the breeze bushing you. Fuck he was getting more powerful every day. Pushed to the kitchen, you’re face to face with the fridge.

“If this is a fat joke- hey!” Two distinct fingers pinched your cheek and you laughed. “Okay, tell me what you want!” A breeze, and you hear a fluttering between the fridge. When you bend down and dig around the dust bunnies, you find a piece of distinct photograph paper, and pull it out. On it was a picture of a man, 30’s, maybe 40’s if you were pushing it, his arm wrapped around a hung girl holding a trophy. They looked happy.

“Is this you?”

The picture ruffled in your hand. 

“And the girl, that your daughter?”

The pictures motion was repeated. This looked like it was from before, from long ago… you assumed the girl was the daughter that died.

“It’s so cute…” You traced the picture of your ghost, having a face but no name still. Your feel warm, a blush creeping around your skin and a deep heat settling in your stomach. He was handsome. You’d never really pictured him,, besides a few wandering thoughts here and there, but nothing stuck. You put his picture on your fridge.

At night, the image of his face danced in your head, unable to sleep. It was weird, this friendship you had with the ghost in your house, but you didn’t really care. There were worse things in this world, darker ways to cope. So what if a dead man made you happy, made you blush and grin and giggle. So what if he was the reason your hand was currently being shoved into your PJ’s. 

You’d be lying if you hadn’t touched yourself that first night, but this was the first night you pictured his body on your, his face, that beard…

“Are you watching me?” You asked, panting. That was a first too. You knew there was a possibility he watched, but you didn’t really care. Never had. Now, you hoped he did.

A pause.

Then, the liquid touch of a hand on your face. He was here. He was watching.

“Good.” You assure him, hoping he stays. “Want you to watch.” Your fingers begin to pump in your cunt, and you kick off the covers. So what if it was cold, you wanted him to see you. You thought about what it would be like to feel his face buried between your legs, what his voice sounds like, how he’d touch you-

“You can touch me, if you want. Not just my face.” It was a bold statement. Things with you and him had been friendly, close, a little flirty… but nothing so far had suggested more. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t. Maybe he just watched to watch. Maybe you embarrassed him and he left.

Then his touch landed on your face, slowly trailing down, down, until you could feel hands on your breasts. The slightest brush on lips ghost the shell of your ear, your cheek, and your heart swells. He wants to kiss you. 

“You can kiss me. It’s okay.” It wasn’t as strong a touch a his hands, but he ridgid texture of chapped lips touch yours, and ripples of pleasure flow throughout the erogenous zones on your body, far ore reach than two hands ever could. It tickles, and it feels fucking good.

“Wish you were here….” You mumble, still fucking yourself as hips bucked against yoru fingers, sopping wet sounds fill the quiet bedroom. “Never connected to anyone the way I have you.” A squeeze on your leg reassured you, and soon your tits were being messaged in a way clumsy human hands couldn’t do. It was like the rolling ocean crashing and waving and peaking on the tender flesh, a surreal experience to your touch-starved body.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m f-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum-”

Then you hear it, clear as day, sharp and quick against your ear.

“Joel.”

His name. You cry it out as your pussy clenches down on your fingers.

*

After that, ghost sex was something you and Joel regularly engaged in. He couldn’t really speak much still, usually only getting out one word. Generally it was ordering you to cum, sometimes a single word compliment slipped through with a southern accent.

“Beautiful.” He whispered as you lay in bed, satiated and panting.

He thought you were beautiful when you came.

There was never another reason to go anywhere outside of your home other than to work or get food, and more and more you just got groceries and worked with what you had. You liked cooking with him ,you didn’t want to be away.

Today, as you tried to make soup, you couldn’t help laugh as he managed to speak “More seasoning” and lift a fuck ton of herbs up and into the pot. At least he was a helpful ghost.

“You can just make it next time!”

You expect to feel your hair rustle, but instead his voice speaks.

“Tommy.”

Then a knock on the door. You were so startled (people never visited you) you almost didn’t answer. No one outside that door could be worth time away from Joel, but he pushed you to answer, a desperation in his actions that matched the tone he spoke the name.

When you answered, you would have shut the door if you weren’t curious about Joel’s reaction.

There stood the man who got in a shouting match with Maria. Oh, yeah, Tommy, that’s right. But why was he here? Tommy was tall, but his posture at the moment was sunken, sheepish. When he looked at you, pink dusted his tan skin. “Can I talk t’yuh?”

You narrow your eyes. “Sorry, but the last time we spoke you weren’t exactly polite enough for me to feel like welcoming you inside, and every time I’ve seen you, you give me dirty looks.”

He nods. “I understand, that’s why I uh… wanted t’explain myself. I shouldn’t’ve done that, but I was angry. Ain’t right, still…”

“What could I have possibly done to you?”

His eyes were large, brown, and wet. “This was uh… my brother’s house. He died 3 years ago.”

*

5 Minutes later, Tommy was sitting on the couch with you, cup of soup in hand. You hadn’t felt or heard Joel, but this was your chance. Some answers.

“Funny.” He pats the couch. “This was his. Was right here for years, never moved it.”

“It’s uh… a good spot. Now, I think you had some explaining to do?”

“Right…“ Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “The house has been empty since he died. My wi- ex wife, I guess, kept it empty out of courtesy but she was right. It was time to move on.”

“Did he die in here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Tommy explained it to you. The revenge that was enacted on his brother for saving the girl, Ellie. You wondered if that was his daughter he mentioned, but Tommy just referred to her as his kid. How the woman and their group killed him, Tommy saw his brother's head bashed in, brain matter on the walls. 

The golf joke still didn’t make sense, but you’d figure it out. You learned more about Joel too, that he was from Texas, that his daughter, Tommy niece, died on outbreak day. Joel’s birthday. Joel played the guitar, he liked to swim, was an overbearing brother and loving dad. He was married once. He learned to cook to get Sarah to eat veggies so he was pretty good at it. Was a good man. The best, the way Tommy spoke.

“I know it ain’t right the way I’ve treat’n yuh. And I know it’s not your fault. I just hadn’t been handling his death well, you know? Lost my wife, almost lost my son… I ain’t been the man he raised me to be. I now you don’t… do anything. In town. That’s probably my fault and I’m so-”

“You think I stay home because I’m avoiding you?” You nearly bark out a laugh, his eyes growing in confusion. “Brother, I ain’t scared of no man, if I wanted to go to the movie nights I would have!”

Tommy processes this information, sipping on the last of the soup broth. “Oh… I guess I just assumed...”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming. Make’s an ass out of you and me. Here, gimmie.” You take his mug, walking to the kitchen to rinse it and still giggling.

Tommy follows you. “Well I’m sorry! I guess I just figured, the time’n ‘n all.”

You throw a look over your shoulder. “I stay home because I like it here. Because I’ve been alone for years, so I’m fine with it.”

“But why not-” He stops in his tracks. “Where did you get that?”

You follow his line of view and realize your mistake. “Uh. I uh. I found that while cleaning the kitchen, by the fridge. I guess I thought it was nice, so I hung it up… why? Who is it?”

You knew the answer before he even spoke Joel’s name. You had to pretend to be surprised, but even worse, you knew what you needed to do.

“Keep it.” You say, pushing the picture closer to him, breaking you a bit. You had to hide every emotion, because there was no reason for you to have any attachment to it. He didn’t know what you and Joel shared with each other. Who he was to you. It didn’t matter, because Joel was his brother. The girl was his niece. He deserved the picture.

“That’s her. That’s Sarah.” Tommy continued, confirming your suspicions as his finger trailed over the girl. 

“She’s adorable.”

“Yeah… she was. Great kid too.”

Tommy helped you wash up the dishes from making soup, you and him talking more. He was nice when he wasn’t yelling. You could understand why he was so upset at the time, and you forgave it.

You told as much as he stood in your doorway. “I don’t hold it against you. I promise.”

He nods, smiling and looking more at ease. “Promise you’ll come to the next movie night, it’s tomorrow. It’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“What’s playing?‘

“Scream 2!”

You roll your eyes. “Not the first one?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tommy says with a tease. “Is fucking scream 2 at the end of the world not enough for you?”

You shove him out of your door, laughing. “Fine! I’ll fucking come. But only to see Timothy Olyphant.”

You shut the door, and turn around still laughing. But what you see shocks you so bad, you’d have screamed if you didn’t cover your mouth.

It was Joel. Faint. Barely there. A dead eyed stare. Much older than the picture and his hair was longer. But it was him.

“Joel?” You say, tentatively walking towards him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he was looking at the door, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing. Your hand passes through him and when his form dissipates, you fall to the ground and cry.

*

“Are you mad at me?” You ask. He was strangely quiet the rest of the day, only a few little touches here and there. No ghost sex that night. When you are getting out of work clothes and putting something warm on for the movie, you bring it up.

“No.”

“Well, you’ve hardly talked to me. Is it because I asked Tommy as those questions about you? I’m sorry, it’s just easier that way and I wanted to know what happened to you-”

“I miss him.”

Three whole words. 

“You’re getting stronger. Did you mean to appear to me yesterday?”

“You saw me?”

“Yeah, and I hear you really good now.” You grin. “I can’t believe you’re talking this much. Maybe I’ll skip the movie, I don’t wanna lose-”

“No. Go.” a brief pause. “Please.”

“Joel Miller,” You tease him. “Are you having me check on your baby brother?” He rustles your hair.

*

So, you started hanging around Tommy more. It started as filling Joel in on his life, but really, you liked being around Tommy. He was easy to talk to. 

You lay on your side in bed, trying to picture his face as you’d done every night for months as you talk to him. Joel’s voice was clear, fully communicating with you now. Every now and then you could see a glimpse of him in a mirror or the faint frozen picture of him standing somewhere, usually after Tommy was over. 

“Walker is doing really well.” You tell him about his nephew you’ve met a few times. For a few years, Tommy was barely around after Joel’s death, most of the time he was drunk. There was an incident several months ago where Tommy passed out of the couch and Walker tried to start the stove, resulting in a small kitchen fire, and Tommy effectively lost custody of his son. Not that family court existed here, but Tommy knew he couldn’t be there. This was shortly after you moved in, and was the reason Tommy finally got sober. Things were going better now, and he’s repairing that relationship.

“You met him?”

“Yeah, he’s quiet. But he’s very polite.” Tommy said he takes after Joel. Walker and Joel had been very close before he died, Tommy adored the little boy. The little boy in question was now 8, growing up.

He sighs. “Yeah, he was a good kid. I never had a son, figured raise’n Tommy was close enough. But when I was with him… Sometimes I think back to when Sarah died, how hard Tommy fought to keep her alive… yuh know, after she died I was just, I was drowning in my sadness. There was no room for Tommy’s grief, I guess. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for, because he was always there for me. If I had lost Walker… I dunno if I could have been that strong.”

A few days later, you invite Tommy and his son over for dinner, and as you stare at Walker eating his food and laughing you can see Joel. He’s no longer a still picture, he’s moving, and smiling, and laughing too. No one else can see or hear him.

But he looks right at you.

*

You can see him now, laying on the pillow beside you as the pair of you talk. Sometimes he’s tangible, hands touching your face and you can see his tan skin through your peripheral. Sometimes it’s more faint, like he’s using all his strength to be see and he can’t materialize his touch. You don’t know how it works, but you’re happy to see his face. Joel has kind eyes, a softness in a world of blood and violence.

“You're beautiful.” And it’s your voice whispering it to him, because he is. Every line on his face, the scar on his forehead, the tired darkness under his eyes as if an eternity to sleep wasn’t enough. Every little freckle you could map on his face on days he was more clear. It was perfect. It was him. 

A sadness crosses over those pools of brown. “I really don’t deserve you…” When you open your mouth to protest, he continues. “I’ve killed people.”

That wasn’t a shock. Who hasn’t? “I have too.”

But Joel shakes his head, curls staying in place as if gravity is now inconsequential, as if he’s frozen in time with a single lock on his forehead. “No, I’ve killed innocents. A lot. Me ‘n Tommy, before… and protect’n Ellie…”

You thought about this for a while, a chill of cold reminiscent of when he first came to you makes you shiver, but when you look at him, you don’t feel the repulsion you know he expects. “You kill children?”

“No.” He says firmly, a glimmer of sadness crossing his eyes. You didn’t think so, knowing he knew what that loss was. “But that don’t make it much better.”

“Did rape anyone? Kill people for fun? Get off on it?” 

Disgust mares his features. “No, never.”

You nod. “You kill any innocent people since coming to Jackson? Settling here?”

Again, a shake of his head doesn’t knock loose a single hair. “No, but before-”

“I’m not worried about before.” You voice is soft, and you tentatively reach a hand out to caress his face. His skin was soft, softer than a man in his 50’s would be, but that’s what happens when you aren’t fully there. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. You deserve a second chance just as much as anyone does. The world out there-” You vaguely whisk your hand around. “Does things to us. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re not a rapist, didn’t kill kids, not one of those really, really bad people… I think you deserve to leave that all outside the gates of Jackson.”

His eyes soften, affection pooling with something more. “Thank you, darl’n I mean it. I wasn’t always forgiven in that life. Nice to know someone does in this one,”

Your heart aches for him, so you try to ease his pain. “Tommy forgives you, I know it. You heard how he talks about you.”

But he’s still distant. “Maybe. But maybe he just misses me. That’s different. Besides, there’s someone I know hasn’t.”

“Ellie?”

He nods. “She…. well, we just started talk’n, right before I died. Didn’t have the chance to find out if she ever would, you know? Now I never will.”

“She does, Joel. It’s been years, I know she does.”

But he didn’t believe you.

*

Joel’s words stuck with you, simmering in your head like the soups he helps you make. Today you were on patrol with a fairly quiet partner, so you had nothing left to do but think, think, think. Why did his words affect you so much? He was so stuck on forgiveness, even though he’d never know-

Oh.

That’s why he was trapped here, wasn’t it? Joel’s ghost remained behind because he didn’t have the closure he needed. Tommy and him had made up, but Joel died not knowing if Ellie ever did. Years of estrangement for taking her from the hospital, for saving her, for lying, and he wasn’t sorry, he told you himself. But he needed Ellie’s forgiveness. He needed to know Tommy didn’y hold resentment. He needed to know they were safe, that they were okay.

Joel couldn’t talk to Tommy. For some reason, you could hear him speak when Tommy was around, see him, but Tommy never reacted. Joel couldn’t even move things or create a breeze when he was around…

If Joel got what he needed, the forgiveness, the resolution he longed for, he could move on. You knew it. He was getting stronger every day, his appearance crystal clear, his touch more and more solid, less fluid than before. You wanted little more than to have him like that, as close to a real person as he could get, at your home you shared with him every single day, every hour, sleeping next to him, cooking with him, fucking him… part of your mind told you that you could do it.

But that wasn’t right. He’d be little more than a housewife, a sex doll, a captive. You could keep him there, to be your only friend outside of occasionally seeing his brother, the person who knew you best, someone always there to talk because what other options did he have? 

That wasn’t you. The rational part won out, and your knew what you had to do.

*

Tommy’s face was one of worry when you told him you’d seen the ghost of his brother. You’d spilled it all out, sparing the ghost sex details, but instead of shock, he just asked you if you ere okay.

“Yes! Tommy I’m fine-”

“I dunno, you’re kinda a weird person to begin with, see’n shit wouldn’t be that new-”

“Tommy!” You stand abruptly from his couch,  pulling at your hair. “I’m not seeing- I’m not hallucinating him! You don’t understand, I see him, I see him every fucking day that’s why I don’t go anywhere!”

A sympathetic look crossed his face. “Honey, maybe you’re seeing him because you’re alone every day.”

“I’M NOT CRAZY!!” You shout at him, and he softens. 

“I know, I know.” Tommy stands. “Maybe… maybe you should stay here a few days, maybe this is a yellow wallpaper situation, you gotta get fresh air, a new environment-” he reaches for your arm but you yank it away.

“Does the term ‘don’t go golf’n mean anything to you?”

Confusion crosses his face. “Not really, why?”

A deep breath. “He… I asked how he died, with a ouija board i made and he just said don’t go golfing. Never explained.”

Tommy’s skin paled, the freckles on his face a stark contrast against him. His face a deadly calm. “How did you know that.”

You can’t help but groan. “I told you, he-”

“ENOUGH GAMES!” The sudden shout shocks you, and you step back. Tommy must’ve realized he was scaring you, so he calmed down just a bit. “I’m serious. This isn’t fucking funny.”

Tears of frustration and sadness filled your heart, begging him to believe you. You didn’t think Tommy would hurt you, but the distress he was in was clear. “I wouldn’t joke about this… he- he said it was a joke I wouldn’t get, and I don’t. Tommy please, I’m being serious…”

Then, the realization dawned on him, clear as day. He believed you. “Holy shit. You’re telling the truth…”

“I am.” You sob. “Tommy I swear I’m telling the truth. He needs help, he’s trapped here… we need to help him…”

He was shaking. “C-can I see him?”

It broke your heart to say no. He can only appear to me, I think…He’s tired when you are over…“

Dizzy, Tommy sits down. “He was round… whenever I was over, wasn’t he? That’s why I always feel so calm there…”

You nod. “He calms me too. I don’t know how.” You join him on the couch again. “Tommy, what does don't go golfing mean?”

His face is buried in his hands, and you think he’s crying. It’s a lot, you know, it’ a lot to spring on someone, especially that he can’t hear or see him still, his own brother so close and yet so far. But you were doing this for him, so that he could move on, so that he could see his Sarah in the afterlife.

When Tommy finally looked up, his face and hands were soaking wet.

“He was killed with a golf club. We never told anyone about that.”

*

Joel stood behind you, clear and crystalline, his body practically human. He was cold, but he brought you comfort. “Something on your mind, darl’n?”

You don’t wanna lie to him, but you can’t tell him what’s happening, not yet. You want a few more days without this hanging over you both.

“Tommy left for a few weeks. Just worried.” You didn’t tell him he went to find Ellie, to go back to the farmhouse she lived in with Dina and see if she’s there, if Dina knows where she lives kows anything. To try and convince Ellie that this woman she’s never met his eeing her dad as a ghost and they need to help him move on. But hes gonna try.

A week later, the town was in a ruckus, Tommy returning to Jackson with the prodigal daughter, her girlfriend, and a little boy.

Turns out Ellie went back to Dina, begged for her back on hands and knees, and they’d been living alone out in the country for years raising JJ. They all looked good, healthy, happy… Ellie was skeptical but she agreed to come as a favor to Tommy. Everything was planned for tomorrow, but as you lay in bed with Joel for the last time, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

You wanted one last night.

Joel kissed you, languid and soft, his hands roamed your naked and prone body and for the first time, you noticed something. A tent in his pants. A ghost had gotten an erection for you.

“Joel…” You moan, feeling him rutt against you.

“I know, I feel it too.” His voice is husky against your ear, and chills flow throughout your body as you realize what this means. Joel was firm, his body fully here and he was hard. Joel could fuck you.

He went feral after that, yanking down your PJ shorts so fast your barely had time to lift your hips, but it didn’t matter. You spread your legs to welcome to fingers the plumged into your body, absolutly dripping for the man laid beside you. Joel’s breath was hot, growling and grunting as e finger fucks you open, preparing you to take his cock for the first time. 

“You’re always s’fucking wet.” He says between sucking kisses on your neck. You didn’t care if he left hickies on you, you were just beyond ecstatic that he was strong enough to leave marks. You wanted him to be with you in some way permanently. “Been wish’n I could feel you since that first day, so sweet, so beautiful, always so ready for my touch.”

You paw at him, groping his body and trying to just get his massive form on top of you. “Need you.” You beg like a needy young thing, like you’d never been fucked properly before, like you needed to be filled and taken and ravaged. 

“I got yuh, darl’n…” Joel murmur, rolling over on top of you, his cock heavy- when had his clothes come off?

Knelt before your body, Joel was magnificent. His body was broad, thick, not quick as barrel chested as his brother, he held it more in the shoulders. Down his chest and stomach held scares, fat, and a trail of hair leading down, down, down to where his cock hung thick and leaking and cut. You forgot he was a ghost; he didn’t feel like one, he felt real. He felt here. Tears filled up in your eyes, and Joel leans over, his body covering yours in his cool skin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks in a gentle voice, thumbing away a stray tear. “I hope yuh ain’t scared’a me? Are yuh?”

You’ve never been more sure of saying no in your life. “Ain’t scared.” You whisper. “I just… I love you so much…” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You did love him. But that wasn’t why you were crying, not really anyway. No, you cried because this was goodbye.

Joel’s eyes, black pupils swallowing the beautiful brown with lust, grew wet themselves as he smiles down at you. “I love you too. So damn much.”

Your nails did into his back, relishing in the firm, solid feel of him. This was real. He was real. “Fuck me, please. Make love to me. I want to feel you, really feel you…”

Plush lips kissed you as he slid inside, a wave of calm relaxed your body, allowing you to take his considerable length inside you. He was big, stretching you open slowly while you accommodate him. 

“Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me…” He moans in your ear, desperate like he’s falling apart at one stroke. But he doesn’t. When he fucks you, it’s with more vigor, more energy than you’ve ever felt from a living person, a slap of skin from his hips meeting your thighs, his balls heavy and slapping against your ass, his fingers digging, digging digging so deep inside as you wished he’d bruise you, wished he’d cut you open and crawl inside so he could never leave you, two souls as one. To know and to be known at the deepest level. Souls and bodies barred to each other. Nothing left to hide.

He couldn’t do that, so as Joel slammed his cock into you, you begged for something else. “Mark me.” You whimper, getting a reaction of confusion from your lover, so you take his hand and dig his nails into your tender hips. “I need to know this is real. All of it.” The tears come again when you can see him want to deny you. “This isn’t forever, you know this can’t before but I- Joel I need something to be forever! We can’t get married, you can’t leave me pictures or presents or- or kids, Joel, I need to be able to remember you.”

His movements slow. “Oh, pretty baby…” He murmurs lowly. “I’ll give anything if it means you can’t forget me.” he kisses you deeply, sucking in your tongue and before he pulls away he nips your lip. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

But nothing of Joel could be too much.

A shape gasp as he dug into you, left hand bracing himself on the bed as he never stopped fucking you, rolls of pleasure coured your body like it had tha first night, swirling over your clit and dragging you screaming to the edge. And screaming you were.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You shout so loud you don’t care who hears you. Half the town thinks you’re fucking Tommy anyway. Don’t stop fucking you, don’t stop marking you, don’t, don’t, don’t go.

You could keep him to yourself. Tell Ellie and Tommy you lied, or that he went away and you can’t see him any more. Anything so that he doesn’t get what he needs, that he stays with you forever.

He’s impossibly deep inside, but in your leaking, dripping channel and into your hip. The cut of his nails goes further than they should go, but you don’t question it. Instead, you focus on the feeling of him marking your flesh, of him making your insides as his as he cums deep in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him as your draw out whatever he’s filling you with, you don’t care. It’s him. 

“More, more” You cry into his shoulder, but he’s already slowing his thrusts.

“I’m as deep as I can go, baby…” He stays bottomed out inside you, but his hands withdrawal from your side as you come down. His bloody hand cups your face, dripping with your own warmth.

You sob against his cold skin, Joel wrapping you into a hug as the overwhelming emotion of what happened floods you, and it’s too much. You need more, but it’s not him deeper, not him scaring you, and not him filling you up.

It’s more time.

*

You wake up with blood on your face and your wounds cleaned and bandaged, with Joel’s body gone, as it usually is in the morning. It took until the afternoon for him to appear again.

“Sorry baby.” He apoligized, hugging you. “I dunno why I can’t control coming better.” He poked your side, and you knew he meant a double entendre but you didn’t have it in you to laugh.

“It’s okay. Last night used a lot. You probably needed to rest.”

“Yeah…” He touched the bandage he’d put on your hip with soft intent. “How you feel’n bout this?”

You smile. “Great. But Joel…” You turn around to face him, his face frowning with worry. “I gotta tell you something… I told Tommy about you…” Before he has a chance to ask questions, you spill it out. “And he went and found Ellie, she’s hear. I think… I think if you reconcile with her, with Tommy, once the air is cleared… you can move on.”

For a long moment, he stares at you, unmoving, unblinking, frozen as the picture that used to hang on your door. Then he speaks. “You know… that means I can’t see you again, right.”

Damn the tears the spring forth, damn the well of emotions overflowing your body, a trickle of a leak in the damn, then it cracks, and it all breaks. You begin to sob in his arms. “I know, I know… but it’s not right for me to keep you here! You- you said it’s dark, and you’re scared.”

“I ain’t scared when I’m with you…”

“But you won’t always be with me! I need to help you move on! It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, you need to be with Sarah, you need to be at peace knowing Sarah and Tommy love you, that they forgive you!”

He lets you cry, holding you close in strong arms as he realized what was happening. He’d see Ellie again. You were willing to give him up just so he could get his happy end.

His voice in your ear.

“Ellie.”

*

She was skeptical, understandingly. Pretty, short, in her 20’s with brown hair cropped into a pixie and looking annoyed. She sat next to Tommy with her arms crossed and practically glaring at you. 

“I’m gonna need more proof than some golf joke.”

“It was enough to get you here, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I owed Tommy for every fucking time he saved my damn life, that’s why I’m here.” She turned to her uncle. “We’re even, by the way.”

“Sure as shit are.” He sighs, then looks at you. “He here?” 

You gesture to the couch. “Yeah he’s sitting right- hey!”

Ellie swung her hand over where you said Joel was sitting, doing nothing but annoying Joel who tried in vein to smack her away, telling her to cut the shit.

“I don’t fucking feel anything.”

“That’s not how it works Ellie!” Tommy flicked her arm. “Relax.”

With a huff, she crossed her arms again. “Fine.”

Tommy looked to you, then to Joel, then back to you. “Tell her something only Joel would know.”

When you turn to Joel, he’s looking at Ellie with sadness. She looks different, a lot older, yet she’s still Ellie to him. He doesn’t turn to you. ‘David.’ He instructs, and you turn to her.

“Do you know a David?” And suddenly her skin blanches. Ever so slightly, she’s shaking, but then she turns to Tommy. “Did Joel fucking telling you that!?”

From beyond Tommy’s protests that he doesn’t know who Daivid is, did she mean David Turner, who was a local here, or David Sanchez, who died last month in a raid? Joel insists he’d never tell that to anyone, but Ellie can’t hear him.

You try to calm them. “He says he was someone you met after leaving Jackson the first time, that you did the right thing by killing him.”

“Yeah! I fucking did!”

“He says if he goes to hell, David is the first person he’s finding.”

She stops, information processing in her head that there was no way Joel wold have told whoever David was to Tommy. “David tried to rape me when I was 14.” She grits out. “I stabbed him to death and let his body burn up.”

Tommy turns to her, horrified but doesn’t speak.

You nod. “Good.”

And then, she sinks into the couch. “Whenever I had nightmares… Joel always told me David was the first person he’d find in hell. He was convinced he was going there.”

You chuckle. Yeah that sounds like Joel. “He loves you both very, very much… and the uncertainty is what’s keeping him here. I need to help him move on.” 

“So what? You’re some sort of fucking medium?”

“No, I’ve never had anything like this happen before but… He started appearing to me. Little touches, cold spots, breezes… then he started moving things, hearing his voice…. Now I can see him, he’s as clear as you are, honestly.”

Tommy speaks now. “He’s gotta know-” He tries to turn to where you said Joel was, but you can tell he’s struggling to talk to a brown cushion. “You gotta know we love you, don’t know? How can you doubt that?”

‘Tell him I do. But tell him… I don’t know if he forgives me.’

“Joel knows you both love him, but that’s not why he’s stuck. He needs to know you forgive him.”

Ellie is staring sone faced at a wall, but Tommy is looking down at his hands now, this seems easier. “Joel… those things we did… it’s been a long time. I was angry, yeah, I fucking hated you for a while but…” He shakes his head, silver streaks shimmering in the deep brown of his hair. “I got Walker now and… after he was born man, I think I got it. The things we did to survive… you were willing to do some of the worst shit out there, damning your own soul to save me. I’d do the same for my kid, if I needed to.”

‘But I shouldn’t have made you do any of it, Tommy.’

“Joel feels bad that he made you participate.”

“You didn’t make me do fuck’n shit, brother. I was a grown ass man, even if you still thought of me as a reckless teenager. I made my choices, and I understand why you made yours. You lost your baby, I know damn well you couldn’t take lose’n your brother either. I forgive you, but you also gotta forgive yourself, brother.”

Ellie pipes up. “I get it too, Joel. I told you that night, I didn’t know if I could forgive you… telling you I couldn’t… but… UUGHHHH!” She slumps down, covering her face. “Joel I was angry! I was angry and I was stupid but I was a teenager! I was just- just a kid who had these grand schemes of changing the world! But we don’t know if it could’ve worked. But I forgive you, Joel. I was always gonna forgive you, even before you went and fucking left me! I don’t know why I had to do that, why i treated you the way I did-”

‘You were a teenager, that’s normal-’

“But I think about it, every single day I think about it and what I should've said and done better but I get it now. I don’t know what you’ve been told but I got my kid now. I know you’re old man brain is probably trying to work out how two women had a baby-”

Joel laughs, and so does Ellie.

“But it’s Jesse’s. Dina got pregnant before Jesse and her broke up and he… he died. But I’ve been raising him with her the last few years… She took me back… You ask me on the porch that night if she treats me good and Joel…” Ellie sighs, smiling. “She really does.”

‘Tell ‘er I’m glad. That I always liked her, and I wanna know the kids name.’

“Joel says he doesn’t blame you for being mad at him, or how you talked to him. He says he’s glad Dina and you are happy. What’s the babies name?”

Ellie grins, pride in her eyes. “The baby is almost 4 now. His name is JJ. Jesse Joel.”

Tear fill up Joel’s eyes, fatherly love overwhelming him and for a moment, you think how sweet this is, how nice. Then you notice he’s not as clear as he was before.

“Joel!” You rush to his side and take his hand, kneeling at the couch. “Joel, I think it worked… you’re fading…” You try to grip his hand, as if holding on tighter would keep him here with you, keep him ground in this world. Without him, you weren’t sure what you’d do with your life, who you’d talk to or confide in…. But you knew, you knew above all you’d miss him. There would never be another Joel.

‘Please-’ He sounds desperate now, scared even. ‘One more time, tell them I love them, I just- I love them so much fucking much.’

Through your sobs, you relay the message. “He needs you to know how much he loves you guys. He talks about you all the time, he- you’re everything to him.” You see Ellie and Tommy holding hands, Ellie crying and Tommy looking close. 

“We love you, Joel. All of us.” Ellie says, to nowhere in particular.

‘And the kids. Walker and- fuck I ain’t never met JJ but I love him too. If, if there’s a heaven I’m gonna…’ His words start to fade, but you know what he’s saying. His strength is going fast, Joel letting go and passing on, but even still his body shook. He was scared. If there was a heaven, Joel was going, but he wasn’t sure about that.

“He says he loves Walker and JJ, he’s gonna watch over them in heaven”

That breaks Tommy, who lets the tears come now as he takes your hand too, squeezing it tight.

You look up at your lover. “I love you, Joel. I’m always gonna love you, always gonna remember you. It’s gonna be okay, I promise you. We’re gonna be alright, we’re doing okay. You can let go now. It’s okay to let go. There’s no one left you need to protect.. we’re safe.”

Even though he’s fading away Joel looks into your eyes. He can’t speak, his strength fading, but it’s all communicated through those eyes that say so much. One last time, he cups your cheek, and the hand that isn’t holding Tommy’s brushes over the cold fingers, feeling liquid and unstable again. There’s fear in his eyes, mixed with that tender love, but then something changes in him.

Joel looks forward, past you, Tommy and Ellie and onto something else, something more. He smiles. ‘I see her’

All his fear his gone, and his face is peaceful.

For the final time, a breeze rustles your hair, and Tommy and Ellie see it.

Joel is gone, and all you can do is sob into his couch.

*

When it finally subsides you feel numb. Ellie and Tommy have joined you on the floor, the three of you talking about the experience you shared together, something no one will ever believe. 

“His last words were, ‘’I see her’....”

Tommy whispers Sarah’s name, and you nod. 

“He’s with her now. He’s a peace. I know a better place is a cliche, but…” Ellie wipes her tears. “We all know how much he missed her.”

Everyone nods solemnly, and for a while, you stay there, talking about Joel, memories and his jokes and his cooking. It was nice to share this secret with other, and suddenly you felt less alone in it. They believed your stories of the ghost in your walls, and they liked hearing the knew things he told you. You liked learning more of his past.

Eventually, everyone had to get back to their families. You were alone, but you didn’t feel lovely. Something had shifted, a closeness to Ellie and Tommy that didn’t scare you the way human connection used to. Maybe you would go to the mess hall, see some movies. Your patrol partner was quiet, but nice. Tommy was still around, and Ellie and Dina decided to pack up their things and return, wanting JJ to have friends. It was going to be okay, and as the sun set on the day, somehow you felt it rise on your life. A new, beautiful world of opportunities for friendship and love was out there.

You stared in the mirror, butt naked, feeling strangely open and vulnerable despite being alone for the first time in months.

It all felt surreal, something that seemed impossible, that went against every logical explanation.

But when you took off the bandage on your hip to change it, there they were, clear as day. 4 crescent fingernail cuts deep into your skin, something that would scar forever.

No matter what happened, you’d always carry these with you, proof that Joel and your love for him was real.

I cried pretty good writing tht end, knowing its my goodbye. I want yall to know I love each and every reader so so so so much. You mean the world to me. every kind word lives on in me forever. I hope you'll stay for my other writing, but if not, thats okay! I wih all of you the best.

Please be kinder to each other. the fanfic writers do this for free, they do not deserve the things they've experienced here. It is a beautiful world out there.

Trust me, it feels way better to send anon love rather than anon hate. I wont be writing tlou for a minute but ill return with a tommy series !!!!

follow @romana-after-dark for dark content and @riley-blue-byron for upcoming original works!

So long, and thanks for all the fish <3

reblogs are greatly appriciated, would make a nice send off <3

@princessanglophile @missladym1981 @goodwithcheese @dancinglotusbud @glitterymanboy @koshkaj-blog @sixhours @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @fandxmslxt69 @miraclesabound

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Jaded - Charlie Weasley

A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :) 

Request -  Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]

Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D     

Your name: submit What is this?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jaded

Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated

Charlie fucking Weasley.

That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.

After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—

“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.

“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.

“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.

“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.

“You just did” he glared a little at you.

“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.

“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”

“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.

“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.

“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.

“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”

“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.

“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.

“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”

“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.

“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.

“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.

“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”

“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.

“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.

“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.

“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.

“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.

“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.

“What? Absolutely not!”

“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.

“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”

“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.

“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.

“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.

“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”

“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.

“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.

“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”

“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.

“I just don’t think that this-”

“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.

“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.

“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”

“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh” he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”

“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.

“Uh-”

“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.

*-*Flashback*-*

“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.

“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.

“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.

“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”

“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.

“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.

“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”

“Then sit down” he smirked. 

“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.

“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.

“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.

“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.

“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”

“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”

“Give it, Nott!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Fine!”

Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.

“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.

“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.

“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.

“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”

“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”

“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.

“But I wasn’t-”

“NOW!”

“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.

“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”

“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.

“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.

“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”

“You are so… so-”

“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.

“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.

“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.

“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”

“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”

“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”

“I hope you end up an old spinster!”

“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”

“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.

“Make me!” you said smirking at him.

“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.

“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.

*-*End of Flashback*-*

“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”

“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. 

Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him. 

To Be Continued

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: so… part 2?

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Literally everything.

But the fic that sticks out the most is “Someone Who Cares”. The real and raw feelings both men feel the whole time!

Eddie’s pride to take care of Wayne on his own and his gratitude that he was helped anyway?

My favorite silly part is when Eddie punches Steve’s dad. “Told you I’d do it!”

But my favorite moment was when Eddie told Dustin about his parents abandoning him and they had that connection.

One of my favorite authors and Someone who cares is one of my favorite fics in the fandom.

Oh my gawd, make me cry at 5am with the silly little ask game, why dontcha?

This fic is my baby! The one that crashed into my head when I thought I'd never wite again, demanding to be told with a force I couldn't deny. Everything I've written since then started with this.

The longing and the pining were so fun to write. And yes, the theme of letting others in and accepting help is one of my favorite things about this story. ❤️✨️

Let's chat!

[lavender-z-love]

Baby Don't Like It

MARK LEE X BLACK FEM.READER

Genre: Idol Boyfriend AU, Valentine's Day,

Warnings: Suggestive, Mature, Potential Spelling errors.

A/n: This is the Valentine's treat, the before obviously! Have fun, it'll be a while before I wite part 2. I never pre-plan these. I always write what I feel in the moment, so just wait a while please! Thank you!

A/n pt.2: In this fanfic, I used Mark's "White-blueish" hair. If you went to a 2022-23 Nct tour, you know what Im talking about. Just to stop any confusion cause I know now homeboy has Blonde at the moment ♡

Wordcount: About 800 words?

Part One:Here

Part Two: Highway to Heaven

Part three: Angel

Today is Valentine's day, you shared the day with your angel of a boyfriend. The both of you in his apartment, sitting at the kitchen Island you watched as he baked cookies for the both of you. He talked about his day at work before the two of you met up.

His cute voice rambling about many things you could get lost in and listen to for hours. He eventually stopped, and looked up at you to see you watching him intensity. Realizing he'd been going on and on he stayed quiet for a bit before speaking once more.

"—Anyway, enough about me and my day. Tell me about yours gorgeous", he said adjusting his glasses.

You smiled finding him cute, "Nothing too interesting kitten, it was pretty boring." He gazes at you then continues kneading the cookie dough. "I'm sorry Y/n, I hope it gets better."

"Oh it already gotten better Mark, You’re celebrating Valentine's day with me. I really appreciate it!"

Mark snickers looking up past his lenses, "Anything for you, but...Kitten?" He questioned as he looked at you from the other side kitchen island. "I thought it'd be cute", you admitted, "Don't like it? I can stop."

"No, not at all", He says looking down at the bowl. His cheeks on fire, "I like it..No— I love it actually. It's just you suprised me." You nod, confirming that he was comfortable with it. Hopping down from the stool you walk your way over to Mark.

"Want to let me help?"

"What no, just sit and look beautiful. Im almost done." You make space for yourself shifting into the space between the counter and Mark. "Let me help!" you exclaim wrapping your arms around his neck. He laughs, "Y/n, babe Im almost done. All I have to do is put the dough on the pan."

"Then let me do that!"

Mark lets out that cute laugh of his, "Jagiya..You're in my way."

"I know Mark", you confessed as you playfully puckered your lips out to him. His lips soon meet yours, softly pressing to yours he sighs against them. Pulling away he snakes an arm around your waist gazing down at you.

"Mark Lee.."

"Yes?"

"You look fine as fuck today." Mark flushes, revealing a cutesy hue across his face. "Thank you Jagi, you look stunning today too." Mark bends down to kiss you once more, the rim of his glasses touching your face. He attempts to pull away but your slender fingers manage to get a grasp of his collar keeping him close to your face.

"I have a question Mark."

"Ask me."

"Do you perhaps...Have anything planned for tonight?" Marks eyes glued to your lips, soon your back touching the counter behind you. "I do", he said eyes now locked onto yours.

"Im ready to give my all to you Y/n", Mark stated flustered. You teeth bitting your bottom lip, while tracing your fingers along the buttons on his collared shirt. "Mark."

"Mhm?" You pulled away watching his face carefully,"You do know...We don't have you if you're not ready, right?"

Surprised, he'd thought you'd catch the hint that he was more than ready..but he was always kind of 'Naive-ish'. One thing about you and Mark's relationship, was that Mark was a virgin. This didn't mean anything to you, you didn't mind at all. He was a bit shy to tell you though, not having any experience made him a bit nervous to confess. Especially when you told him you'd been with your ex in a previous relationship.

"Wouldn't you perfer someone with experience?", He asked. You shrugged expressing to him, it didn't matter to you whether he had been with an ex or not. All that mattered was that if they were clean and he was ready; and that Mark was. Before anything the both of you took tests and shared results, showing eachother you were clean.

You communicate to him that whenever he was ready for his first time, it was up to him. He was glad you'd let him take his time, and in the meantime he'd return the favor by slowly unraveling, showcasing his sensual skills. From making out, to grinding, to fingering... Nothing past that until now.

"Jagiya, What better time than now?", he states leaning in. Mark places his hands on the back on your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter. The action made you flustered, you hid your face a little behind your hand. "W-What about the cookies you were just baking?"

Mark chuckles glancing at your thighs then up at your covered face. His hands on either sides of you as you sat on the counter. He tilted his head, as his brow, amused. "I WAS trying to bake, but you got in my way and seduced me."

"Well I wouldn't say seduced." You attempt to play innocent lifting your leg to rub against his thigh. "Kitten, I haven't even gotten started."

Mark softly stroking your leg, chuckling lightly. "Why'd you suddenly bring up baking when you were just in the middle of flirting with me? Did I make you nervous when I lifted you up and sat you on the counter?"

You squint your eyes turning away, "What is this? An interrogation? So many questions.."

"Mark..", you sighed. You yelped feeling teeth nip at your skin. Your boyfriend pulled away showcasing a bruise. You gasped, "Mark! You know I love wearing skirts and dresses!"

Mark teases you, "Oh yes..An interrogation, you seem nervous. Should I hook you up to a lie detector?" Marks hands make their way to your thighs, slightly separating them. His white hair brushing against your skin as he leans down to kiss your thighs.

"Oh no! I'm sorry! I should've asked!", He panicked. You pulled him close, gently kissing his flushed cheeks. "Im just kidding Kitten."

He calmed down, softly exhaling. Slightly pulling up your flowy dress mid thigh, "You can leave another one Mark." Mark smiles,"Maybe just one more for the time being..I wouldn't want everyone to see."

Mark grips your thighs once more, slowing spreading them. Kissing them while keeping his eyes on you. You slightly hide your face having his glares were making you nervous.

The softness of his cute lips against your plump thighs making you hungrier for his love. "Mark–"

"Hm?" He hums against your skin. "Is this really okay for me to be on this counter?"

He pauses his little teasing-like kisses looking at you, "Mm..Yes why?"

"Well, you were just baking here— and I uh.."

Mark blinks rapidly, "So..Is this your suggestion to move to the bedroom?" You gasp, seeing as it did sound that way. "Oh..I didn't mean it that way! It came out that way." Mark only smiled, delicately pushing you down on the counter. Your back now against the cool material causing you to shiver.

Mark locking your wrists down to the cool pavement. "Y/n..", Mark quietly whispers as he look down at you. "Hm?" He smiles, his expression a little wry. "I want to be honest, Im slightly nervous." You watched his face, giggling.

"What are you laughing at?" He frowned.

"You. I know, I'm sorry Mark. You're cute."

Pulling yourself up you hop down from the counter, grabbing Mark's hands. "Mark In all seriousness, It's alright, I was there once too." You placed his hands on your waist, pulling him close.

"You somehow make me feel confident."

"That's good—", You say standing on your toes. You gently kiss Mark's adam's apple watching him flustered in dismay. "Confidence is key."

Soon before you know it, you're thrown up and over Mark's shoulders. The entire action catching you off guard, though you didn't complain. Mark, effortlessly lifting hoisting you up and about was really attractive.

"Ah! Mark!", you laugh.

"You're really dangerous, you know that?" Mark asks as he begins to walk. You giggle, placing your hand upon his shoulder. "Is that a good thing? Or a bad one?", you tease.

"A good thing, A wonderful thing, you beautiful Minx."

"Mark!", you playfully hit his shoulder. Mark chuckles enjoying the view beside him.

"Hold on to me, we're going up stairs." Hearing this only made you more excited to experience the long night you had ahead of you.

"Hurry up then", you breathe hungrily.

Mark smiles, glad to know you're just as excited as him.

"Of course love, besides I still have to give you the rest of your Valentine's Gift."

Written May 11th.

(I know its mothers day but, I had this in the drafts for a while so, here you go!)

[wilmaslittleflower]

ohoh i has an idea!! cg!wilbur with a little who loves tinkerbell and like fairy related stuff?

i can picture him just chasing them around while they wear fake wings :3

- @littlesoot

notes; hi hi! Sowwy dis is wate, buwt i hads so much fun makin dis!!! I did hc betause I was stwuggwin ta wite buwt I hoped wou enjoys!

paci credit; softlittlebunny_shop on ig!!

taglist; @koithelittle @littlesakura-anon @littlesoot @tinysharkzz @wilburstamagotchi @burgundy-baby (wanna be added? Send me an ask or dm!)

hc below cut!

-Wil gets you so many tinker bell centered toys and utensils. Tinker bell plate, paci, blanket, ect.

- definitely gets you wings, so many pairs of wings!

- he acts like pan when you want to play with him, you’re always tinker bell of course, you have all the essentials!

- gets you a dress like hers and definitely makes you shoes (maybe even gets Wilma to paint them for him-)

- I feel like you also act like her too, maybe a bit stubborn and independent. And wil loves it, but also thinks sometimes you need help a bit, especially when little!

- loves calling you his little bell, makes him happy to see you giggle when he does.

- definitely picks you up and helps you “fly” around with your wings!

- he made the mistake once to give you glitter and told you it was fairy dust. It took a while to get the glitter out of your and his hair!

- makes it a tradition to watch the movies every week and make tinker bell centric foods or foods that look like some things from the movies!

- whenever it’s cold out and you want to wear your wings, will always tells you that you need to be careful with them or you’ll hurt them. So he helps you cover them with your coat or tells you he can put them on once your at your destination.

- you two were definitely Peter and tinker at Halloween- maybe even twice.

-Wilbur cries at some of the movies- you help him wipe his tears and tell him it’s ok!

- and lastly he loves seeing you so excited when you watch the movies any time, makes him happy knowing that your comfort can be so easy to get. And watch.

[youre-a-total--poser]

New Sibling (Request)

Warnings: None

Age: Newborn

James: 3

Word Count: 1,243

Requests: Closed

Summary: James meets his new baby sister but he wasn't very happy

Requested by: Wattpad user

Date: 10/01/23

A/N: Guess who got a sudden burst of motivation.

Main Masterlist

---⧗---

Little James Rogers was only 3 years old when he was told the exciting that would soon turn into the most disappointing news he had ever heard in his life

Steve and Natasha were quietly discussing something in the kitchen when James walked in wanting a drink of milk.

“Milk pwease daddy,” James said walking over to Steve and raising his arms in the air to let his father know that he wanted to be picked up.

Natasha went to pour James a glass of milk while Steve held and cuddled him.

James has always been a daddy’s boy and Natasha didn’t mind that Steve got to give him all the cuddles and kisses or read him bedtime stories every night and play with him all day. Okay, maybe she did mind slightly…slightly.

After James finished his milk Natasha took the cup from him and placed it in the sink to be washed later.

“James mommy and I need to tell you something,” Steve said putting him down on the ground.

“Oh okay we’re doing this now,” Natasha said kneeling down to James’ level.

“What is it?” James asked

“Mommy is going to have a baby. You’re going to be a big brother.” Natasha told him.

“Take a look.” She took out the ultrasound from her jeans pocket and gave it to him.

As James looked at the image he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. “What that?”

“That’s the baby James,” Steve explained.

“Where is baby?” James asked looking around the room

“In mommy’s tummy,” Steve said.

James suddenly let out a big gasp “mommy eat baby?”

“No sweetheart I didn’t eat the baby.” Natasha laughed. That's where the baby stays so it can be safe and grow till it’s ready to be born.”

“How baby get out?” James asked

“Well…umm…” Natasha looked at Steve hoping he would have an answer but he just shrugged.

Before they could answer James slightly lifted Natasha’s shirt revealing her stomach. “Baby comes out tummy button wite mommy?”

Both Steve and Natasha laughed “that’s right sweetie.” Natasha said kissing his cheek.

“Mommy me want bwother.”

“You might get a brother but you might not it’s not something we can control it just happens,” Steve told him.

“It will be a nice little surprise for all of us in 6 month time." Natasha smiled at Steve who smiled back at her.

"That too long me want baby now." James whined."

"I know son but you just have to be patient the baby will be here whenever it's ready," Steve told the young boy.

---⧗---

James waited and waited and asked every day if it was time for his new brother to arrive but it never was.

To help him understand more of what will happen when the baby arrives Steve and Natasha brought him along to the majority of the doctor's appointments, let him help decorate the new baby's room and read him books that were written to help children understand what will change when the baby comes.

Finally after what felt like years to little James the day had arrived when he got to meet his new little brother

Steve took Natasha to the hospital last night and Wanda stayed to watch James.

From the second his parents left to when he got up this morning James spent the whole time looking out the window waiting for them to come home.

---⧗---

"They're home, they're home, they're home," James shouted when he saw the car pull up in the driveway.

Steve and Natasha walked in and Steve was carrying a baby car seat with their new baby inside.

"Mama, daddy you're home," James said excitedly.

"Come here, my baby boy," Natasha said with a big smile on her face and opened her arms for him to run into.

He ran over to her and gave her a big hug.

"Have you been good for aunt Wanda?" Natasha asked after she gave him many kisses all over his face.

"Yes mama." he laughed wiping his face.

"That's my good boy. Are you ready to meet your new sibling?"

James nodded excitedly.

Natasha took his hand and led him into the living room with Steve and Wanda following.

Natasha sat down on the couch with James sitting down beside her.

James was struggling to contain his excitement.

"Calm down baby you have to be very quiet and gentle when holding the baby okay," Natasha spoke softly

"Sowy mama. Me happy to see baby brother."

"Before you hold the baby we have some news that will make you sad James." Steve took his new child out of the car seat.

"what is it?"

Natasha put her hands on James' shoulder and gently turned him towards her. "Sweetheart I'm sorry but you don't have a brother the baby is a girl you have a sister."

"Oh," James said sadly.

"Do you still want to hold her?" Steve asked getting closer to him.

James shook his head and climbed off the sofa. "I hate baby."

"I know you're upset James but that's not very nice," Natasha spoke calmly not wanting to escalate it further.

"Just come say hi to her James she's not going to bite." Steve started bringing the baby closer to James.

Steve didn't expect James to react the way he did.

"No!" He screamed pushing his dad’s leg to get him to move but obviously, Steve didn’t budge

“Careful James you don’t want to hurt the baby now do you?."

“Stupid baby. Hate baby." James shouted then ran to his room crying his eyes out.

"Do you want me to deal with him, babe?" Steve asked carefully passing baby you to her.

"No, it's okay just leave him to calm down in his own time." Natasha placed a kiss on your head then laid back on the couch and closed her eyes.

Most of the time Natasha wouldn't let James off with that behaviour but she was too tired and she didn't want to risk the tantrum that he will definitely throw to wake up the baby

---⧗---

A few hours later James quietly made his way downstairs and peeked his head inside the living room. His parents were sitting on the couch. Natasha was holding the baby and Steve was wiping the baby's face with a cloth.

James slowly walked in keeping his head down ashamed of his reaction earlier.

"Hey, sweetheart are you okay?" Natasha asked.

James nodded "sowy mama sowy daddy."

Steve moved over and patted the space in the middle of him and Natasha "it's okay son."

James climbed up on the spot in between his parents and got himself comfortable.

"You were just having too many big feelings about what was happening and you didn't know how to react right?" Natasha explained to James what happened.

James nodded in agreement.

"Do you think that you're ready to meet your new sister?" Natasha asked, "it's okay if you're not we can try again when you're ready there is no rush."

"Wedy now mama." James smiled at her

Natasha carefully put you in James' arms "James meet Y/N your new baby sister."

James smiled at the fragile little baby in his arms "Y/N. I love Y/N."

though James started off hating you it didn't last long he made sure that he was the best big brother to you. He Always protected you and did what he could to make you happy.

---⧗---

Taglist -

@glxwingrxse // @griffin-girl-r // @uglymammoth // @arinexeisnotworking // @faesvoid // @ali-lie // @froufrousnowman // @mmmmokdok // @nighttime-dreaming // @circe143 // @lizlil // @lissaaaa145 // @snowdrop1026 // @shixicbe // @i-writes-things // @teenybean // @fluffyblanketgecko // @scarlet-kazuha // @ravensinthedaylight // @lovelyy-moonlight // @melatonindaydreamz // @nclgsticore // @gabbyzeyla // @eternally-ineffable // @naslt // @natswidowtrilogy // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @blackwidow-3

Go HERE to be added to the taglist

[quiet-place-for-thoughts]

Ending: ???

You quickly ran back to your house and packed your things as your eyes became glazed and warm tears fell down. As you rushed around your room packing cyno walked in..

"Y/n are you o-.... Y/n..why are you crying.. " I was quick to dismiss Cyno

"Ah! Cyno don't worry a-about it! Just abit shaken up thas all! " Cyno grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a hug.

"Y/n who. Scared. You. " Jesus fvck was he scary! He's voice was laced with venom and something else I could quite catch... He was always protecting me... Maybe he could help.

"Kaveh and Alhaitham are acting strange! They seemed to be trying to kill each other! I'm scared cyno really scared... "

"Shhhh, it's ok I'll help you alright.. My love. " you didn't quite catch what he said at the end but it didn't really matter much at the time... He was helping you.. Right?

Quickly cyno grabbed your bags and your hand as he ran to his room and packed some stuff at an scarely fast pace.

"Ok let's go we can head to the desert and we can stay there till we can work out what to do ok? " you could only nod, watch cyno grab both the bags and then pick you up bridal style.

You had eventually fallen as sleep as cyno told you to rest in his arms

"Oh how foolish of you to trust me.. My love"

~timeskip brought to you by Alhaitham and Kaveh trying to find you~

It had been awhile now since you had woken up and we were almost there... I could help but feel uneasy... Why do I fear cyno is like them... He wouldnr.. Would he? I mean he didn't help you after your famil-

"We are here. "Cyno place me down inside a small tent but big enough for you both to share.

"Thank you cyno.. You really are amazing.. "

"you know you don't have to force yourself awake, you can rest now I'll make some food for us and stay on guard. "

You slowly dazed off to sleep.. If only you didn't trust cyno.. Or maybe if you looked into his eyes or behavior more you would have realized it.. Just maybe you would realize what cyno looked at you with wasn't love or care no... It was ♡obsesstion~♡

Thank you guys for reading this ending!

Which one next?

Have a wonderful day/night

Remember your fvcking stunning and wonderful<33

I owe you guys a thanks for the support<3

Tag list(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged) :

@wite-sno-flik @pocarinapyon @moonlilliesinthegarden @mizukiimorse @mis-disaster @just-simping-over-genshin @sleepy-yandere

Love y'all<3

[fleckcmscott]

Every Day

Summary: After their first New Year's celebration, Arthur and Y/N ponder how to proceed.

Words: 3,731

Warnings: None

A/N: Familiar ground is covered in this story, but with my last few pieces being set later in Arthur and Y/N's relationship, I wanted to revisit the blooms at the beginning. I hope you all like it! Many thanks to @jokerownsmysoul​ for beta-ing! 😃

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

December 31st, 1981.

One week ago. Seven days. One hundred and forty-seven hours - not that she kept count. The night Y/N had screwed up her courage and told Arthur she wanted them to live together. Spilling that in Gotham Square, amidst sparkling fireworks and noisemakers, glittering confetti and flowing champagne, had been what she truly desired. Not a mere reflection of the city's dreams and hopes for new beginnings.

So why had neither of them brought it up again? A hush hushness that felt like a tacit endorsement of the status quo.

Not that their status quo was bad. It was pretty great, actually. Delightful, even. Her very own New Year's wish come true. He made her see and experience things in a different light. Stirred parts of her she'd forgotten, neglected. A maroon toothbrush camped in a plastic cup on her bathroom shelf, a box of Kotex had made its way to his. It was good and joyful, what they had.

The question prodded anew. Why the hell were they carrying on as if nothing had happened?

Typewriters clacking, she and Patricia chatted over the hammering of keys. "Does he want to move in with you?" Patricia asked, focus fixed on fluttering paper. "Is he that kind of guy?"

"Well." A bell announced the end of Y/N's typing line. She grabbed the wite-out to correct a p to an o. "He didn't say yes or no. He didn't say anything, really. But judging from how he kissed me, I can safely say he wouldn't mind."

"That good, huh?"

"I can still feel it in my toes."

Matt called from the office behind her. "Hearing that you have a personal life is going to be an adjustment."

Y/N rolled, swiveled to peek past the doorframe. "You're welcome to shut your door," she teased.

Her boss had a point, though. While she'd related her professional background, chatted about television shows and local news, the personal was a hand she kept close to her chest. Only recently had she disclosed to Patricia - a woman she considered her best friend - the surface of what she'd gone through with her father back in Missouri.

There wasn't much to discuss, anyway. Life was simple. She worked and got a bite to eat. Read the paper and stopped at magazine stands. Walked city parks and browsed the shops once or twice a week. A lovely, mundane life made whole by finally being where and who she was meant to be.

And now she had someone in that life whom she ached to be with every day. Who made her want to stretch into new interests, who asked her to share her own, unexpected treasures at her age. How on earth could she keep all that inside?

Crossing the room to sit on Patricia's desk, Y/N described the rarities. "Take comedy," she began. "I like the late shows as much as anyone else, or a funny movie once in a while. Beyond that?" A dismissive wave. "But I love Arthur's passion for it, learning from him, hearing his jokes. It's like when he puts on music I haven't listened to before."

"What's he like?" Patricia sipped her coffee, reclined in her leather chair.

"The classics."

"The Supremes? Elvis?"

"More like Frank Sinatra and Fred Astaire."

Patricia squinted. "How old did you say he was?"

"He's younger than all of us but his heart's antique."

"You really are in love."

Tucking her bottom lip, Y/N grinned until her cheeks smarted. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Y/N, take my advice," Matt said, now in the doorway. "Men aren't like women."

Hand on hip, she caught Patricia's Here We Go gaze, then angled her own on Matt. "Is that so?"

"Women tend to talk too much. Men don't need all those discussions. We want to just...do." The man lumbered closer - the same man who groveled to his ex-wife every other week. He brought his palms together as if delivering a final argument, trying to convince a jury to render a guilty plea. "Let him do. What comes comes. You're a bright woman. It'll work out."

As poorly expressed as Matt's thesis was (and the behind the scenes it explained), her gut told her he'd gotten that last sentence right. After a moment, Y/N bobbed her chin in appreciation. He gave a dumb, pleased little wave and retreated to his office.

Patricia's unforgiving elbow jabbed her thigh. "Get back to your desk before he opens his mouth again."

~~~~~

Arthur itched to talk about it. Truly. Cross his heart, hope to die, needle in the eye and all that.

At the grocery store the other night, he'd felt brave enough. Strolling the aisles, filling their respective baskets, holding hands between picking products. Seltzer and marked down Christmas TV dinners for him, a popular brand of tea and World Tour Swanson's for her.

He'd repeated the opening in his head a hundred times, scrawled it in his journal a thousand more. In the shadow of a grand, football shaped display of potato chips, he'd watched her. (Was the amount of time he watched her when they were together creepy? He didn't want to be creepy. He wanted to be a man in love.) She'd studied a bag. He'd gripped his basket tighter.

"I wanted to ask you..." Arthur's breath ran out.

Y/N put the bag in her basket, next to a carton of eggs. "Yes?"

"Um." The bravery he'd been so confident of threatened to run out, too. He'd shrugged, forced himself to smile, his tongue in armed revolt against his brain. "How your pretzels were?"

She'd stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. Which of course he had. "How my pretzels were?"

"Yeah." He'd slid closer to hide his screw up, body language smoother than spoken. Act casual. "The ones you bought for New Year’s." He'd managed to name the day, a split hair's breadth from success! "The mustard kind?"

One slow blink. "Honey mustard. They were good. Did you want some?" She'd reached towards the display.

"No," he'd said, a bit too fast.

"All right."

Five weird seconds that stretched like five hours. Arthur prayed he'd turn invisible so he could flee. A hiccup, a conscious effort to constrict his throat, hold his breath against a laugh.

An easy arm had curled around the crook of his elbow, led them to the checkout. "I have some left. You're welcome to them," she'd said. His diaphragm had calmed to a quiet cough.

Perhaps he could broach the subject tonight. That was the plan, anyway, as he jaunted down the concrete stairs. In his hurry to get to Y/N, he'd forgotten his hat and mittens, an oversight sure to perturb her. The wintry mix of snow and rain turned the light waves of his hair to curls, his lips frigid as a Frigidaire. Shivering, he pulled his tan hood over his head, yanked the strings tight.

He could do this. He just had to put his mind to it. After all, if they hadn't exchanged keys it was still a hypothetical, which meant it was still safe.

Not that she wasn't a safe haven. She was the one who'd taught him what safe haven meant. But there was a lot to consider beyond eternal bliss.

She'd bought movie tickets last Tuesday, insisted on paying for dinner Thursday, offered an evening casserole and wine after she'd seen the receipt for his new insomnia medication. He'd cursed himself for leaving it on the counter and declined. Poverty was the usual and he was used to it. Now it pricked like a bushel of thorns.

A couple days ago, he'd met Dr. Ludlow, an appointment made after Christmas, after a long talk with Y/N. (Though she'd made no such hints, he suspected that committing to treatment was necessary for her to fully commit to him.) The introductory session had consisted of rehashing every diagnosis, histories he'd rather forget. Dr. Ludlow was nice and all, made him comfortable, appeared willing to listen. No hard candies but he could smoke to his heart's content. When he'd wanted to schedule another appointment, he'd pushed out a bashful request for some type of payment plan.

"The first few sessions are taken care of." She'd smiled at him like she was delivering good news. "That should take you through March, then we can go from there."

Hovering at the doctor's desk, he'd found himself unable to move. That act of generosity was an island's leap from free chicken parmesan. He was at once deeply moved - and deeply unsettled.

Was it possible to be both the Man of the House and a financial burden at once?

Maybe. Maybe not. Probably maybe not.

Probably maybe he should slam the brakes on this train of thought. Shaking those notions off, he knocked on Y/N's door.

"Where is your hat?" Wifely exasperation right on cue. Chilled cheeks burned crimson at the association. He kissed her full lips but she retreated, wincing. "You're freezing. We need to warm you up. You should take a-"

"Bath. I will." He'd showered that morning, but he wouldn't argue. It'd be hard to enjoy himself as a popsicle. Unzipping, unbuttoning, he started towards the bathroom, dripping across the carpet.

~~~~~

Laundry folded and put away, Arthur's clothes draped over the radiator (his socks and briefs had somehow stayed dry), Y/N busied herself with the Gotham Journal. Thomas Wayne's mayoral bid continued to stomp across the front page, another article reported Brezhnev's latest threats. An ad for canned diced tomatoes featured a recipe for Mediterranean stuffed peppers. She dog-eared that page for later.

At a quarter to eight, she folded the paper on her lap and looked towards the bathroom door. Light spilled beneath it, the sound of a couple soft splashes. There was no sign it would open soon, and she was growing eager. Ready to reclaim last week's courage, she set off to retrieve her bathrobe.

Just as she was about to knock, a muffled hum halted her hand. Low, baritone, a caress to the ear. She pressed her frame closer to the wood. Rasped syllables between bars, a pitch that stuck to the back of the throat at higher notes. Though the song was unknown to her, she guessed it was the kind of old romantic tune that'd made her gush to Patricia.

It was adorable, her boyfriend serenading himself in the tub, and she adored him for it. Her younger self had assumed passion would lose its wonder as she grayed and wrinkled. Yet, she found she wasn't much different from that girl back in Boonville. The love she had for Arthur felt as fresh as new beginnings.

When he spent the night, he usually let her sleep until her alarm. But there were times she'd wake to his face buried in the nape of her neck, his stubble rough between her shoulders. Arm tight at her waist, fingers splayed on her abdomen. On those mornings she couldn't bear to move. Perfect moments she wanted to live in forever.

A glow sparked within her, propelled her forward. She knocked but didn't wait for a reply. "You can use this, if you'd like," she said, indicating the robe, cutting through the muggy air. "It shouldn't be too snug. I bought a couple sizes too big." She laid it on the closed toilet and turned to face him.

A navy blue washcloth drifted through the water, a bar of Ivory soap floated on the surface. Arthur sat straight as a fence, penis and hands tucked firmly between his thighs, which flexed in an uneven rhythm.

She floundered for a moment. Had his mother walked in on him like this? In the middle of getting dressed or washing up, a grown man without privacy? Had she just been as inconsiderate as Penny?

Y/N's nose wrinkled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll go put the kettle on."

A shake of the head told her not to worry. "No, it's all right." His pale green glance was earnest, flashed with a shimmer that might have been hope. A muscle twitched along his jaw, the corners of his lips folded inward. Brown waves tumbled forward, knotted from the wet cold.

She ventured a pace towards him. "Would you like me to wash your hair?" Not long ago, he'd mentioned he always cut it himself, hadn't ever had the salon experience.

Dark brows lifted as he processed the request. "You don't have to."

"I'd love to," she said, perching on the tub's rim. "It's my favorite part of getting my hair done. Nothing washes away a trying day quite like it."

Whenever she suggested touching him in a new way, it didn't take much convincing. Tonight was no different. He dunked under the water immediately. Rivulets sculpted cutting cheekbones, drops fell from the rounded tip of his nose.

Sleeves rolled to her elbows and a dollop of shampoo in her palm, she laced her fingers through not yet silky locks. A stubborn tangle caught her left thumbnail. She stood for better leverage, working through his chestnut mop, now dark as velvet winter skies. The lather thickened with each stroke.

"Does that feel good?" she asked.

Not unlike his earlier singing, he hummed. "Mmm."

Sleet pinged the nearby window. She raked her nails along his scalp. "When we took a bath at your place, you said you were thinking about the future." A safe a way to breach the conversation, a lovely memory for them both. The night he'd confessed he loved her.

"Yeah. One with you." He rested in the curved end of the tub. "I've been thinking about what you said. About living together."

Her pulse skipped into next week. "Does that mean you want to?"

"No. I mean- I dunno. I like the idea, but I- I don't have a lot of money. My apartment's expensive, Penny's stuff is everywhere, and...I haven't lived anywhere else. Your apartment's newer. And I know you hate the cigarette smell at mine."

That was a fact she couldn't deny. She hadn't complained, having no desire to hurt him. But given that she didn't allow smoking anywhere besides the fire escape, it wasn't hard to deduce. Kneading slowed to a languid massage. She cleared relief from her throat, relief their relationship wasn't the cause of his hesitation. "This one's about the same age, just remodeled. And your place is spacious compared to some of the apartments I've seen." Her mind flashed to Mrs. McPhee's, the kitchen, living, and dining rooms combined into one ten by ten coop.

The pad of her thumb followed his strong brow. "I've been meaning to ask you something." Her hand snuck past his shoulder, traced droplets on his pectoral, dipped beneath the water's surface. "Were you always this thin?"

He frowned, tensed beneath her touch. "I thought you liked it."

"I do, I do. It's just that you have a bit of a love handle. Righhht...here." A pinch to his squishy flank, tickles to his ribs.

Sudden giggles, laughter that sounded ten years younger. He splashed her with a flick of the wrist, streaks of lilac sweater darkening to violet. "I lost weight when I started my medication. My mother used to say-" he raised his voice an octave here "'-You need to eat. Look at how skinny you are.'" A roll of the eyes, his whole head. "I guess that doesn't matter anymore."

"It doesn't have to," Y/N said. Then she scoffed at herself, at the hypocrisy of confirming he could let go of the past when hers continued to bleed at the edges. Before he could assume the scoff was at him, she added, "Maybe living here would help with that." He made no response.

Bending closer, she gathered his hair at the nape of his neck, wrung out lather. Suds slipped down her forearms. Automatically, he relaxed into her, curls clinging to her fingertips. Conversation ceased. She was unaware of the nearness of her breasts to his face.

A whispered trail on the seam of her sweater. Along her abdomen, across her stomach, up, up, up. He cupped her breast, cradled her as if she was a mirage. Wetness seeped through the acrylic. Her motions halted. The humidity of the room thickened to a pleasant fog.

Arthur's Adam's apple bobbed, his gaze darted to hers. "I don't want sex."

Careful to keep shampoo out of his eyes, she smoothed stray strands from his forehead. "You can touch me whenever you want, wherever you want. With or without sex." She nudged the tip of his nose with hers. "I want you to touch me every day. That's how you'll get used to it."

Reservation melted into an easy smile, tinged with a bashful pride. Akin to a suitor recalling how well he'd done on a date. Moving to catch her chin, he admired the handprint on her shirt and stole a kiss.

Her toes curled anew. And in the corner of her eye, so did his.

~~~~~

After handing him a fresh towel, Y/N left to change. An oversized sweatshirt would do, a faded sage green. With its hem at her hips, she decided to forego pants in favor of pale pink middle-aged panties. A choice for candid familiarity.

As she poured honey mustard pretzels in a wooden bowl, filled the tea kettle with water, Arthur shuffled through the living room. He flipped through her meager record collection, about ten LPs in total. The console stereo remained shut.

"There's nothing romantic in here," he said.

"I have a feeling Al Green would disagree." She'd played Let's Stay Together often as of late, a soundtrack to dusting and dishes, lines and lyrics bringing Arthur to mind.

The radio sprang to life, the GCR nightly news hour. Buzzing, static, the squeal of an out of key jingle. Finally, he reached his goal. Warm strings, a plaintive timbre.

"What station is this?" she asked. Bumping into Sinatra the evening he'd come for dinner had been pure luck.

"GPR. They play oldies Tuesday and Thursday nights and Sunday mornings." He sidled up beside her, robe cinched tight at the waist, chest peeking out from the white terrycloth. Soft notes continued while they waited for the water to boil. Quiet, lovely companionship in this basic task.

When she filled the mugs, the collar of her sweatshirt fell down her shoulder. A moment, two, and he put his arm about her. His thumb ventured to her collarbone. Tapping, settling into a comfortable caress. She jutted her hip against him.

He gave her a squeeze. "When you were a little girl, what did you dream about? What future did you want?"

Both hands cupping her mug, she put her elbows on the counter. In truth, that was hard to conjure. Married at seventeen, college four months later, degree at twenty-two. Childhood dreams had remained distant since - well, since she was a little girl. Not that she regretted that history. It'd simply resulted in practicality instead of preoccupation.

And the prior decade of distress had done a pretty thorough job of grinding down whatever parts of her could still imagine in that way. Even with the medication she'd taken towards the end. She'd lived moment to moment, survived hour to hour for so long. Thinking of it reminded her of all she'd lost, when it should've reminded her of all she'd gained. It irked her, how small it made her feel, small enough to rival a camel going through the eye of a needle.

But Arthur wasn't aware of the rusty gears and cranks of her past. He deserved an answer.

"I wanted to grow up, but I wanted life to stay the same. Does that make sense?" She blew ripples across chamomile. "I had a good childhood. I was lucky. My parents were supportive and proud. My sister was my best friend, even when she annoyed the hell out of me. I wanted to keep those things, like a photograph that wouldn't fade. But I also wished for a career, to make a home with the man I loved. I didn't understand what that kind of love was, not yet. But I saw what my parents had and wanted my own happily ever after." A soreness threatened her vocal cords, for theirs had been cut short. She sipped it away. "What about you?"

The answer came quickly, as if he'd been waiting to be asked his whole life. "Meeting my dad." He dunked his cinnamon teabag, his strong brow weakening. "I always wondered what I did to make him leave."

Heat enveloped her neck. "You didn't do anything, Arthur. You didn't do anything. He's the one who missed out, not you." A rash response, one that wouldn't heal his wounds. But a salve she hoped would soothe - and what she believed.

He wound the teabag's string through the mug's handle. The corner of his mouth curved, a subtle nod of the head. The hand on her shoulder drew a line down her arm to entwine their fingers. Turning her towards him, he grasped her hip.

From the tender light in his eyes, it was plain where this was headed. And she hadn't had any wine to help her get over herself. Her palm pressed his sternum in a halfhearted attempt to save her dignity. "We've done this once."

Their clasped hands were now at shoulder height. "Not enough," he said.

"You haven't had a chance to see how bad I am at this."

"We just have to practice."

"But I can't hear when to step," she said, and shifted foot to foot.

"Didn't you enjoy it the first time?"

She weakened in his arms, her protestations dissolving in her throat. "I loved it."

"Then let me lead. You don't have to all the time." The warmth of his blinding smile echoed in his gentle instruction. Touch firm but tender, his fingers splayed on the small of her back. "If we live together, I'll want you to dance with me every day. That’s how you'll get used to it."

She chuckled, laid her head on his shoulder. The fresh scent of soap rolled off him. She nestled deeper for another whiff. On a sigh, she pressed a lingering kiss to his neck. "Make sure to hold me to that.”

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​​​​​​​ @ithinkimaperson​​​​​​​ @sweet-nothings04​​​​​​​ @stephieraptorr​​​​ @rommies​​​​​​​ @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1​​​​​​​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​​​​​​​ @jokerownsmysoul​​​​​​​ @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics​​​​​​​ @iartsometimes​​​​​​​ @fleckficgirl​

[plasmamembranes]

I asked my gf what kind of office supply I'd be if I was office supplies and then told her she'd be Wite-Out because she makes things right. She told me I'd be a stapler bc I'm great at holding shit together asfdjskn

[saltykidcreation]

7. I Have No Problem With It

Raphael and Kendall were rolling around on sand wrestling. Now how that happened? Let's backwards.

FLASHBACK

After chopped a few three to made a boat and for night, Raphael teaching or assistants Kendall to walking. Each turtle got one mermaid to teached how to walks, and raphl got Kendall. Seriously who thought it was good idea put two hothead together? Right, the answer was simple, mikey already 'picked' beryl when even before Leo opens his mouth, only Adriana that very much understood what words donnie used, Leo and vanora were more responsibility they need thinking about what next steps and it's leaving raphl with Kendall. Oh well

After a few days Kendall finally can walking without much need holding something but of course still walking like baby. And then raph got bored and thought it was good idea to pranks kendall and Kendall pranked back Raph , and it leading to they wrestling on sand

FLASHBACK END

Kendall that in her legs mode (wearing seaweed dress) still wrestling with Raph then he managed to pinned her under him. They both out of breath.

"HA... I .. Win" said Raph

"I... Let... You... Win" replied Kendall.

Raph looks Kendall that under him, after they breath finally begun to normal they looks each other. Raphael can moved his body but he didn't , also Kendall can use her power or tells raph to moves but she didn't. Raphael leaned down and Kendall looks anticipated but when their lips so close s Raphael move away from Kendall , he sat on sand and looks away from Kendall.

"I can't" muttered Raphael. Kendall looks confuses and slightly annoyed.

"Something wrong" asked Kendall.

"I can't do it" said raph and sound miserable

"What do you meant? " asked Kendall that still confuses with raph behavior.

"Even you half fish you still good looking. While me? I am giant mutated turtle. There's no way you interest with me that to good to be true." Said raph. Kendall's mouth just tighten into thin line. She can understand where raph came from.

"So? I don't care" shrugged Kendall , that sound not care at all. That tone made Raphael snapped his head to kendall, disbelief written on his face.

"Women, I am a reptile , you definitely blind if you think I am attractive or good looking" said raph. Kendall just gave raph Deadpaned stares.

"Beauty is in the eye of beholder. Also ever I had told you that my dad is an orca, an orca whale? " asked. Raph not belief about Kendall's parents but he not questioning it.

"If my mom can in love with my dad, that bigger than her than why can't I? " said Kendall. She touched raph's hand, raph looks down at his hand then looks Kendall.

"I have no problem with it you being turtle. Also are you have problems wite being mermaid that need water that make you wet? " asked Kendall.

"No I have no problem being wet" replied raph immediately. Kendall have raph a smiles

"So? What the problem then when be both okey with out 'flawless'" raphael still not sure then Kendall cupped raph's cheeks and kiss Raph softly. Raph closes his eyes inhaled sharply, Raph trying to keep up but he replied little sloppy and deepened their kiss.

he finally realised that this was real.

(Okey im bayverse first film I kind confuse that Raphael was like 'I am okey I am turtle' then in second movie he like 'i Am Not okey , I am turtle' but I think it because he wants explore many places but we'll as turtle he can't as lest in in human world. Also he showing big insecurity, well I meant he self aware what he is but he definitely have wanting more.)

[oletusfragments]

🎁A little gift from "Hydrei" to a male hunter:

Inside the gift box is various small wood statues of various animals found witing the manor and around the different maps. They're not perfect and quite clumisly made, but it's clear whoever made them spent a lot of time on it.

🔔 — YOUR GIFT RESONATED WITH...

Bane is well known around the manor by name but never for who he is. He is often referred to more as a deer-like monstrosity, a hunter that is infuriating to go against. The sweet and caring man was never known—never shown. Tired from getting advantaged for his kindness in the past, it became hard for him to be openly friendly to others.

But who is he to resist these cute animal figures from you? Especially since it's statues of his friends from the forest whom he knows very well and spends time with in days he isn't busy with matches. Bane happily decorated his shelves with your gifts. Even though it is not the most professional work, it is a gift enough to be cherished for him.

The last gifts Bane received are probably the inventions of his good friend Burke. The thought of gifts never crossed his mind, even on Christmas or birthdays.

Come to think of it, why was this given to him? Was it obvious that he was an animal lover? Is it because of his connection to the forest? Why him?

Maybe he should ask you if he has the chance—no, no. He should thank you. Uh oh, how is he going to approach you? After relishing the pleasant feeling of receiving a wonderful gift, it is now the turn of the countless thoughts in his head to dominate those feelings with uneasiness and uncertainty. Maybe he should ask Burke for advice.

— Bane sent you a letter!

Dear Hydrei,

Is this really for me? Maybe it was sent to the wrong person… my name is on it though. I still can't believe it but thank you. Burke questioned the clumsiness of the wooden figures but I told him it doesn't matter. I think they're nice. Well done. These take a lot of effort and skill to do, so I'm sure you did your best. Can you...teach me to do it sometime?

Oh and speaking of the animal figures, are you close with the animals you've carved? If not, I can introduce you to them. I'm sure they'll like you, you're a wonderful person I'm sure. I wouldn't have written a letter for you like this if I thought otherwise. And you're one of the few people I'd show this side of me to.

Sincerely,

Bane Perez

[ Bane doesn't get much attention but he's one of the characters I like :) He may not have the best appearance and maybe a bit annoying in matches but he's a really good character imo. So I hope you like him too! ]

[seasidepierre]

A quick little update..

Hey everyone,

I hope you’ve all had a soft and great Christmas. Whether you’ve spent it with family or on your own, I hope this time was gentle on your heart. I hope you get some love spread on your soul and that Santa brought you some nice gifts. If you celebrated another holiday, allow me to hope that you’ve still had a nice time with your loved ones.

I’m coming here with a quick little update regarding my fics. Nothing major, but I thought you deserved to know.

I might take a little step back from witing on Tumblr for the time being. Truth be told, Tumblr isn’t doing it for me right now. The last pieces I posted went completely unnoticed, I barely got any feedback and as I said several times, I’m running on those. Some people thrive when they’re being left alone, some people need to get outside and see the world to be able to write. I’ve never been much of a writer when feedback wasn’t provided. I run on comments about what you liked or not, about what part made you tick, about what your emotions were when you were reading my words. Some writers see writing as that solitary activity, where you hole yourself down in a cavern and write until your soul can’t take it anymore. I see writing as sharing, as a vision that I had and that I gift away, as a little world that I invite you in. The last few weeks have been tougher, because as much as I appreciate the likes, they don’t feed my soul like they do other people. They don’t fill my creative juices the slightest. 

So I’m taking a step back, to protect myself a little and to make sure I don’t completely run out of this.

And if I’m being 100% honest with you, I take a step back because I’m working on a really big project and I can’t do everything at once.

I’ll pop back up every once in a while, I’m not saying that I won’t post anything in the meantime nor that I won’t come and reblog a few things. I’m just taking a step back because I can’t keep pouring myself up here and expecting to be filled back up in return. 

I’m not an AI. I don’t spill words onto a page just by clicking a button. I write because I don’t think I could live if I wasn’t creating something but I can’t keep doing so without taking care of myself too.

I hope you’ll understand and I hope you’ll still be there when I’ll be back for good.

Sending you tons and tons of love,

Seaside Me x

[hiceej]

“You just want to be loved.”

I didn’t realize that until today. God woke me up with a scene that I never thought would make my day.

I was awaken by the loud arguments my mother and brother had. They were both shouting and at the peak of their anger. Mom brought the car key with her to teach my brother a lesson, knowing that he badly needs the car for his project. I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep, thinking that the issue would go down eventually. Not until my brother was throwing tantrums, kicking things, shouting, and saying unpleasant and very disrespectful words to her. Even though my mom already left the house, she called me and told me that I should talk to my brother, convince him to apologize because she will be waiting for him. (She told me not to mention to my brother that she called)

To make the long story short, my brother was so angry because he is tired of the pressure from people around him and thought that no one understands him, even our mom. He said that he is doing good in school, so that our parents could come up on stage with him to give them the recognition he thinks they deserve. (And I told him that I am sorry for putting that kind of pressure to him. I didn’t know that he’ll take it seriously. But regardless, I also told him to disregard what I said, recognized his efforts, and assured him that he is doing great and that is enough). He really needs the car because he will bring the microphones and speaker to the program he is in charge. He thought that she doesn’t care about him. That’s the time I told him that mom’s witing for him.

God showed me His love for us through my mom. He cares for us even though we’ve wronged Him and told Him things that hurt, not recognizing the things He’s done for us because we are blinded by our emotions. He knows that it will cause you pain, but it is more painful for Him to see you destroy yourself. He will discipline you, like a father disciplines his son. And He knows you well and loves you unconditionally like a mother gives her life for you to have yours.

Sometimes, we say things we don’t actually mean. Sometimes, it’s just pent up emotions that surfaced because it overwhelms you and it cannot anymore be caintained. According to the book of Luke 6:45, “Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.” We utter words that longs to be acknowledged but forced to keep it to ourselves, because we don’t want to add up to the burdens of other people. We tend to say hurtful things, because we too are in pain and all we want is to be held. Like my mother, she knows what you need and she wants to teach you a lesson. And after everything you’ve done, she loves you and will still be waiting.

Sometimes God will let you experience things that will hurt you to show you how much you are loved, to make you realize that you are not alone, and let you experience His love through other people, especially the ones you love.

[avaford2009]

(A sneak peek of the "like the clouds. Like the wind." OC story.) Follow along with @guccio2024!

Jiaoxian: Oh! (She sees Kouyou on bed, smoking a pipe.) I'm Jiaoxian, and you?

Kouyou: I'm Kouyou

Jiaoxian: And where did you come from?

Kouyou: Kanan Province.

Jiaoxian: And why are you sleeping in the hallway? You see, Ino brought me here with Ginga, Seshaamin and Tamyuun.

Kouyou: Because the door didn't open.

Jiaoxian: (confused)?

Kouyou: Because in my country, if you knock on a door, and no one opens it you can't enter.

Jiaoxian: Okay? (confused) Your country...?

Kouyou: Yes. It's our custom.

Jiaoxian: (sees Ginga) Oh! You must be Ginga!

Ginga: oh! Yes. What brings you here, Jiaoxian-chan?

Jiaoxian: I'm here to share this room with you, Seshaamin, Kouyou and Tamyuun, after me, you and eunuch Mano moved here in the Inner Palace. (to Ginga) Maybe I been came from province, training for Emperor's bride. Ino said for fitting candidates for bride-to-be, and If don't, it expelled.

Ginga: (touches Jiaoxian's private diary about secrets, secret crush, and others) Why is there a private diary here in your bag?

(Jiaoxian gasped.) Jiaoxian: Is that my private diary?!

Jiaoxian: (snatches the diary away at the speed of light) umm. Well sorry about that Ginga, but please don't touch my stuff

(Jiaoxian sees Seshaamin brushing her hair on the mirror.)

Jiaoxian: My name is Jiaoxian.

(Seshaamin ignores her, brushing her hair.)

Jiaoxian: I heard that we'll be sharing this room among four or five people.

(Seshaamin ignores her, checks her lips.)

Jiaoxian: What's your name?

(Seshaamin ignores her, checks her lips again.) Jiaoxian: (fumed) Are you a taruto old woman too?

Seshaamin: (gets up, shocked and angry) Why am I a taruto old woman?!

Jiaoxian: Because you won't talk to me.

Seshaamin: (arrogant) I'm an aristocrat, you know. I don't have any reason to talk to a commoner like you and Ginga.

Jiaoxian: There's only one mirror in this room.

Seshaamin: (refused) So what?

Jiaoxian: I want to brush my hair too. Aren't you done? Can you move now?

Seshaamin: (refused, not getting in her way) I'll be using this alone.

Jiaoxian: Then what am I supposed to do?

Seshaamin: There's one in the bathroom, so you can use that.

(Seshaamin sits back down in her chair, and brushes her hair with a comb. Jiaoxian sees Seshaamin's bag.)

Jiaoxian: So your name's Sesame, huh?

Seshaamin: (shocked) Hey, don't touch my stuff like that. Jiaoxian: I can call you Sesame, then.

Seshaamin: No, it's Seshaamin. You're so dumb.

Jiaoxian: (confused) Seshaamin?

Seshaamin: Sama! You should refer to me respectfully... "Seshaamin-sama."

Jiaoxian: Then do so for me too. "Jiaoxian-sama."

Seshaamin: (sits back down in her chair) You must be kidding, country bumpkin.

(A knock is heard)

Jiaoxian: Come in!

Seshaamin: 🙄 It's been decided already, so you should give up and go home.

Jiaoxian: (confused) Huh? What is?

Seshaamin: (arrogant) Who's going to be the prince's wife. Talking to you is so hard. In other words, a woman like me is most fit to be the Emperor's wite. Prestige, education, and beauty. I've got all of those. That's why I will be the one to become his wife. 🙄 It's useless for you to be here, so you should just go back to the countryside.

Jiaoxian: I don't want to. I have to stay in the Inner Palace. Ino the eunuch told me that for fitting candidates for bride-to-be, and If don't, it expelled. I will try to do my best!

(Tamyuun enters. She looks around the room.)

Tamyuun: So this is it.

Ginga: (surprised) Koryuun?

Jiaoxian: (gasps) Oh my god! Is that...?!

(Tamyuun enters the room. Then she pulls out a short double-bladed sword, and then she shows her dance moves. Ginga, Seshaamin and Jiaoxian was surprised. Kouyou looks at Tamyuun, shows her dance moves with a short double-bladed sword.)

(As Tamyuun finshes her dance moves with a short double-bladed sword, then greets.)

Tamyuun: My name is Tamyuun, and I will be living here with you from today on. I may go my own way at times, but don't mind me.

Seshaamin: (tired in frustrated) They're all weirdoes! I don't have the confidence to go on!

[mark-daily-journal]

Once upon a time a boy is peacfully reading on his desk then a transferee boy came inside the classroom the teacher introduce him that he will be our new classmate. The boy begun to introduce his self infront of the class. Then the teacher pointed the seat at the back beside my friend seat, day past by he became close to our other classmate but me i decided to observe him a little more to get know him better but one day recess time he bumped into me i was shocked and startled and that is the first time i saw his eyes his beautiful brown eyes, i felt something but it feels so strange its the first time that i feel that way. our grouped task day arrive we were tasked to do a dance fro our p.e class we were given a very short time to practice a dance, we always practice as group edwin and i are in the same group we bacame closer, and closer over the time we are practicing our dance step and i started to develop a feelings for him and i think he feels the same way too. Five days past our performance day arrive we perform our dance and our teacher grade us by our performance as group, we got the highest grade. ofcourse we are happy we jumped and then he suddenly he hugged me i was shock and my world started to move slowly all i can see is his eyes his smile and his face. months past our friendship became closer also my feelings for him he treated me like special person, so i decided to tell him how i feel about him, i didn't expect his reactioin to be that way he got mad at me he even curse at me i told him through chat, i tried to take back what i said i was gonna say it was just a joke whle crying i couldn't hold my emotion that time i was drunk that time when i told him after that i blocked him on facebook. i don't know but he tried to talk to me i thought he was angry at me i don't understand so i avioded him until school year end we haven't talked again

Hmm....

This is the first activity that our teacher told us to to do, we are supposed to fill the blank line and create our own story and this is what i did, the story is about my high school crush the most painful one, WHY? because i thought we feel the same way but i misunderstood his action towards me when i told him that i like him he get mad he said we are just friends those acts all the caring and looking after me is all just an act of friendship nothing more special. I still think about him till now,

Witing this story made me feel a sigh of relief in my heart cou'z no one knows about that story of mine even my high school friends didn't know about that story i never told them because they warned me, that what if its just an act of friendship and nothing special well i didn't listen..ahaha sometimes i act first without thinking its always my fault why im always hurting or im just delulu. I

f you're gonna ask me if i regret telling how i feel towards my crush NO! its better that way that he knows how i fell about me because he is also my friends and friend don't keep secret to each other:).

Im happy how my first story writing turned out, i get to express my feelings to the story, how i feel that time, it helps me release my emotions that supposed to be gone long ago, its been six years and until now its still here.