#there's times I've done that daily for weeks. how would i Not know how long it takes me

[egglands-worst]

"time blindness? but you're never late for anything!" yeah it's 'cause I'm anxious about being late, I always leave long before i need to, and I have experience with travel times in specific locations and routes that I can remember and fall back on, plus in emergencies i can check a navigation app and it'll literally tell me an estimated amount of time if i need to travel somewhere I'm not familiar with

[headspace-hotel]

Nature is healing.

I burned the Meadow a couple weeks ago. At first it looked like nothing but charred ashes and dirt, with a few scorched green patches, and I was afraid I'd done something terrible. But then the sprouts emerged. Tender new leaves swarming the soil.

My brother and I were outside after dark the other day, to see if any lightning bugs would emerge yet. We had been working on digging the pond. That old soggy spot in the middle of the yard that we called "poor drainage," that always splattered mud over our legs when we ran across it as children—it isn't a failed lawn, and it never was.

Oh, we tried to fill in the mud puddles, even rented heavy machinery and graded the whole thing out, but the little wetland still remembered. God bless those indomitable puddles and wetlands and weeds, that in spite of our efforts to flatten out the differences that make each square meter of land unique from another, still declare themselves over and over to be what they are.

So we've been digging a hole. A wide, shallow hole, with an island in the middle.

And steadily, I've been transplanting in vegetation. At school there is a soggy field that sadly is mowed like any old field. The only pools where a frog could lay eggs are tire ruts. From this field I dig up big clumps of rushes and sedges, and nobody pays me any mind when I smuggle them home.

I pulled a little stick of shrubby willow from some cracked pavement near a creek, and planted it nearby. From a ditch on the side of the road beside a corn field, I dug up cattail rhizomes. Everywhere, tiny bits of wilderness, holding on.

I gathered up rotting logs small enough to carry and made a log pile beside the pond. At another corner is a rock pile. I planted some old branches upright in the ground to make a good place for birds and dragonflies to perch.

And there are so many birds! Mourning doves, robins, cardinals and grackles come here in much bigger numbers, and many, many finches and sparrows. I always hear woodpeckers, even a Pileated Woodpecker here and there. A pair of bluebirds lives here. There are three tree swallows, a barn swallow also, tons of chickadees, and there's always six or seven blue jays screaming and making a commotion. And the goldfinches! Yesterday I watched three brilliant yellow males frolic among the tall dandelions. They would hover above the grass and then drop down. One landed on a dandelion stem and it flopped over. There are several bright orange birds too. I think a couple of them are orioles, but there's definitely also a Summer Tanager. There's a pair of Canada Geese that always fly by overhead around the same time in the evening. It's like their daily commute.

The other day, as I watched, I saw a Cooper's Hawk swoop down and carry off a robin. This was horrifying news for the robin individually, but great news for the ecosystem. The food chain can support more links now.

There are two garter snakes instead of one, both of them fat from being good at snaking. I wonder if there will be babies?

But the biggest change this year is the bugs. It's too early for the lightning bugs, but all the same the yard is full of life.

It's like remembering something I didn't know I forgot. Oh. This is how it's supposed to be. I can't glance in any direction without seeing the movement of bugs. Fat crickets and earwigs scuttle underneath my rock piles, wasps flit about and visit the pond's shore, an unbelievable variety of flies and bees visit the flowers, millipedes and centipedes hide under the logs. Butterflies, moths, and beetles big and small are everywhere.

I can't even describe it in terms of individual encounters; they're just everywhere, hopping and fluttering away with every step. There are so many kinds of ants. I sometimes stare really closely at the ground to watch the activities of the ants. Sometimes they are in long lines, with two lanes of ants going back and forth, touching antennae whenever two ants traveling in opposite directions meet. Sometimes I see ants fighting each other, as though ant war is happening. Sometimes the ants are carrying the curled-up bodies of dead ants—their fallen comrades?

My neighbor gave me all of their fallen leaves (twelve bags!) and it turns out that piling leaves on top of a rock and log pile in a wet area summons an unbelievable amount of snails.

I always heard of snails as pests, but I have learned better. Snails move calcium through the food chain. Birds eat snails and use the calcium in their shells to make egg shells. In this way, snails lead to baby birds. I never would have known this if I hadn't set out to learn about snails.

In the golden hour of evening, bugs drift across the sky like golden motes of dust, whirling and dancing together in the grand dramas of their tiny lives. I think about how complicated their worlds are. After interacting with bees and wasps so much for so long, I'm amazed by how intelligent and polite they are. Bumble bees will hover in front of me, swaying side to side, or circle slowly around me several times, clearly perceiving some kind of information...but what? It seems like bees and wasps can figure out if you are a threat, or if you are peaceful, and act accordingly.

I came to a realization about wasps: when they dart at your head so you hear them buzzing close by your ears, they're announcing their presence. The proper response is to freeze and duck down a bit. It seems like wasps can recognize if you're being polite; for what it's worth, I've never been stung by a wasp.

As night falls, bats emerge and start looping and darting around in the sky above. If the yard seems full of bugs in the day, it is nothing compared to the night.

I'm aware that what I'm about to describe, to an entomophobe, sounds like a horror movie: when i walk to the back yard, the trees are audibly crackling and whirring with the activity of insects. Beetles hover among the branches of the trees. When we look up at the sky, moths of all sizes are flying hither and thither across it. A large, very striking white moth flies past low to the ground.

Last year, seeing a moth against the darkening sky was only occasional. Now there's so many of them.

I consider it in my mind:

When roads and houses are built and land is turned over to various human uses, potentially hundreds of native plant species are extirpated from that small area. But all of the Eastern USA has been heavily altered and destroyed.

Some plants come back easily, like wild blackberry, daisy fleabane, and common violets. But many of them do not. Some plants need fire to sprout, some need Bison or large birds to spread them, some need humans to harvest and care for them, some live in habitats that are frequently treated with contempt, some cannot bear to be grazed by cattle, some are suffocated beneath invasive Tall Fescue, Kentucky bluegrass, honeysuckle or Bradford pears, and some don't like being mowed or bushhogged.

Look at the landscape...hundreds and hundreds of acres of suburbs, pastures, corn fields, pavement, mowed verges and edges of roads.

Yes, you see milkweed now and then, a few plants on the edge of the road, but when you consider the total area of space covered by milkweed, it is so little it is nearly negligible. Imagine how many milkweed plants could grow in a single acre that was caretaken for their prosperity—enough to equal fifty roadsides put together!

Then I consider how many bugs are specialists, that can only feed upon a particular plant. Every kind of plant has its own bugs. When plant diversity is replaced by Plant Sameness, the bug population decreases dramatically.

Plant sameness has taken over the world, and the insect apocalypse is a result.

But in this one small spot, nature is healing...

[prettycoolgirl]

young rich & in love

pairing: dbf!logan howlett x f!reader. summary: sunday night football with your dad and logan, who knows what’s gonna happen... a/n: hey, my comeback has arrived!! i haven't posted fanfic on here in sooooooo long but hopefully, this makes up for it, i've had this idea in my head for weeks and finally decided to write it (saveeee me old man logan). please lemme know if i made any errors i hateee proofreading 😭 tyyy <33 also feel free to send me concepts!  warnings: 18+, smut ofc, age gap (reader is in her 20s). implied panty stealing. oral (m receiving). small daddy kink? definitely more warnings… word count: 2.7k 

It was your Father's and Logan's daily Sunday routine of watching football games together yet today was different. You walked past the living room and saw Logan sitting on the couch, with a beer in his hand, eyes focused on the screen as he watched the game. Your dad was in the kitchen getting snacks and a couple of more Coors, leaving the two of you alone in the room. Logan caught you just in time and smiled, his eyes lingering on you. "Hey, why don’t you come and watch the game with us," he said.

 ��As much as I would love to hear you and my dad constantly screaming at the TV, I can’t I gotta get ready for my date tonight with Jacob, sorry” you smiled slightly. Quickly Logan's smile faded at the mention of your date. He tried to hide it, but you could still see a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

 "Oh no need to be sorry bubs, and How’s he treating you?" he questioned. 

"He’s been treating me well I guess." you said stating the last part quietly, deep down you knew you weren’t telling the truth, the truth is that he’s been flaking on dates between you too because he “doesn’t feel well”, yet your friends send you photos that same night of his Instagram stories where he’s out partying with friends.

 Logan’s eyebrow raised upon hearing your response. “What do you mean ‘Well I Guess’” He asked. “You don’t sound so sure about that baby” He drank a bit of his beer looking into your eyes. 

 That nickname he used so often with you, always seemed to have an effect on you. For context, You always had a crush on Logan, you thought it would have gone away with it just being a ‘stupid teenage crush’ but no it wasn't. The crush on that man had gotten stronger the older you’ve gotten. You hoped he had some sort of crush on you at all. Some days you would notice all the side glances he would make when you exited the house all dressed up or even when you would kiss Jacob goodbye when he dropped you off at home. 

 “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it Logan.” you tried to reassure him. 

You knew Logan was hard to try to convince him of something. He knew you were keeping something from him, and he was going to get it out of you. 

“I know you too well, Something’s bothering you, You know you can talk to me. I won’t tell your old man.” He put his beer down on the coffee table and turned closer towards you.

“Tell me the truth bubs. Is he not treating you right? You shouldn't be dealing with that baby” he said using that nickname you loved, putting his hand on your thigh rubbing it&keeping eye contact while smirking.

Your heart races at seeing him rubbing his thumb over your thighs. His goddamn smirk too.

“He’s ju-” 

You were interrupted mid-sentence by your dad walking into the room.

Logan moved his hand back to himself, grabbing his beer and clearing his throat. Your dad entered the room, with his snacks laid out on a big plate and another six-pack of beer. "Oh, you gonna watch the game with us? I thought Jacob was taking you out." your dad asked settling down the plate and beers in front of the two men’s seats.  

"Uh no sadly not, I'm still going out with Jacob tonight," you said, a hint of irritation in your voice. "So if you guys don't mind me, I need to go get ready. This hair and makeup is not gonna get done by itself." You shot a glance at Logan, his expression unreadable, before quickly exiting the room. 

As you left the room, you swear you felt Logan's eyes on your back piercing right through you as you walked upstairs toward your bedroom. In your bedroom You fixed up your hair a bit and walked back and forth through your closet trying to pick what you were gonna wear but thoughts of Logan’s hand rubbing your thigh just kept invading your mind. The thought of him just alone made you wet. God the affect that man had on you. No matter how much you try to ignore it, more thoughts of him rushed back in and so did questions. Was he jealous? Why did he look disappointed when you mentioned your boyfriend, Jacob? 

You could not let the thought of your dad’s best friend cross your mind anymore, you had to finish getting ready, either way, Jacob told you yesterday to be ready by 4 and time was approaching. You previously made the plan to get fucked tonight, Jacob had to appreciate what he had. You slipped into your mini skirt that matched perfectly with your shirt—sitting at your vanity, applying your everyday makeup. As you moved on to applying a final coat of lipgloss, you heard your phone buzz. You picked it up and felt your stomach drop as you read the message from “jacob <3” 

 "Gotta raincheck tonight I’m not feeling well again, sorry bb" 

He did it once again for the 4th time, yet this time he promised he wouldn’t cancel still yet he did. Anger filled you, you had spent so much time getting ready, just for him to cancel like always. You’re ready for nothing, no plans, no nothing. You were pissed. You began to type up some utter bullshit “oh okay feel better soon love you<33.” 

He quickly replied by liking the message with a thumbs up. 

 Not even a “Love you too” What the fuck, Fuck him, Fuck this Logan was right you shouldn’t be dealing with this. Enough was enough. You were done with his bullshit. Your plan of at least fucking Jacob one more time was not going to happen at all and you needed to get laid lord knows how long it's been. You decided were gonna get some drinks from downstairs and try to forget about Jacob.

As you walked out of your room and down the stairs, scouraging through your dad’s liquor drawer. You heard the voices of your dad and Logan floating through the air, watching the football game. You suddenly had an idea. If Jacob couldn't appreciate you, maybe it was time to play a game with someone else who might appreciate your presence more.

Discarding the drawer you began to walk into the living room walking past your dad and Logan. You could tell Logan was trying hard not to stare at you with that skirt. “oh, is Jacob here?” your dad said.

“No, we’re not going out anymore. He’s not feeling well so I figured I’d just watch the game with you guys” You smiled knowing damn right it was a lie, sitting directly on the couch near Logan. 

Your dad looked over at you with a mix of surprise and a bit of concern on his face. “Really? Everything alright with Jacob?” He asked. Logan seemed to tense up even more as you sat down right next to him, your legs almost touching his. 

“Yeah, he said he’s just gonna stay in and rest up,” you replied as your dad simply nodded in acknowledgment.

 Meanwhile, Your dad's eyes were glued to the screen, not noticing the tension in the room. As the game continued, you tried to act natural, pretending to be interested in the players' moves while secretly glancing at Logan. He stole a few glances your way, his eyes roaming over your short skirt, before quickly looking away. You could feel his gaze burning into you, and you couldn’t help but secretly enjoy the attention. 

As the first half of the game finished and halftime began, your dad got up and announced, "Well, it's halftime. I'm gonna go use the restroom real quick. I'll be right back." He gave you two a quick smile before heading out of the room.

As soon as your dad left the room, the tension in the air thickened. You were suddenly alone with Logan on the couch, the only sound was the faint commentary from the TV.

From what you could tell you saw Logan fiddling with the remote of the television before he said, "This damn remote won't work. I can't hear anything!" 

"Give me it, lemme try," you offered, pointing to the volume control on the TV box.

Slowly, you bent down to turn up the volume trying to put your skirt down a bit, taking your sweet time. "How's that?" you asked, looking directly at Logan for a response.

He swallowed hard as he caught sight of your ass falling out of your mini skirt. His eyes try to balance between the TV and your exposed skin. "Yeah, uh... yeah, that's better," he mumbled, trying to maintain his composure. Once you sat back on the couch, you casually glanced at him and saw him adjusting his jeans and squirming where he was sitting. You couldn't help but smirk as you looked quickly towards the TV, knowing full well the effect you were having on Logan. Your plan working all accordingly.

Your dad came back from the bathroom and, seeing how uneasy and squirmy Logan was looking, asked him, "Logan, you okay buddy?

"Yeah, I'm good," Logan muttered. 

The game resumed, with the atmosphere was heavy. Both of you were distracted; the game was on, but neither of you watched. Your dad was completely oblivious to the tension you both were building.

Logan kept replaying the image of you bent over, eyes staring right at him. His mind soon began to wander to thoughts about only you. He knew the game wouldn’t be over for a while.

Once 20 minutes had passed, Logan had enough and decided to excuse himself to use the restroom.

”I’ll be back gotta use the restroom,” he said while getting up.

“Are you sure? Man, you're gonna miss the game.” your dad asked Logan.

“yeah, it’s fine.” he quickly replied walking by.

You stayed downstairs with your dad to watch the game. Already getting tired of just watching the game, you decided to go to your room and work on some assignments, using it as an excuse. You bid your dad goodnight and told him you might not come down again that night.

"Alright, kiddo," your dad replied. "Goodnight, and don't stay up too late. Oh, and can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Dad. What is it?" you asked.

"Can you knock on the bathroom door and call out to Logan? He's going to miss out on the rest of the game if he doesn't come out soon," your dad replied concerned.

"Yeah, no problem," you smiled assuring your dad.

You made your way up to the bathroom, your footsteps a bit quicker than usual. You knocked gently on the door, but there was no response. 

"Weird," you muttered under your breath. Feeling a mix of curiosity and growing worry, you turned away from the bathroom and headed toward your room instead.

As you entered, your eyes widened in shock and surprise. There, standing before you, was Logan, going through your underwear drawer.

"You perv," you exclaimed, jokingly lightly smacking his shoulder.

He visibly jumped, caught in the act. His face reddened as he frantically tried to come up with an explanition.

"Shit, look, it's not-" he began, his words stumbling over each other in his act to explain.

You cut him off, "Oh, it's exactly what it looks like, Lo.”

He was too stunned to speak.

You crossed your arms, in annoyance, and said, "So you're the reason my panties have been going missing?"

Logan's eyes widened, his guilt evident. He tried to protest, "No, no, look, you don't understand-"

But you interrupted him again, "But I do. I've seen the way you've looked at me, and those sneaky touches on my thighs... I've seen it all, Logan."

Logan's face flushed with embarrassment, and he quickly closed the drawer. He looked at you, the evidence of his actions clear.

"I... I can explain," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

You raised an eyebrow, giving Logan a skeptical look. "Explain then," you said, leaning against the wall, and crossing your arms.

Frustration and lust appeared on Logan's face as he replied, "You know what, no. You teased me all damn night. I deserve this at least. You were trying to get me killed out there.”

“What teasing are you even talking about?” you acted oblivious.

“You realize what you were doing out there is so wrong. Don't try to act all innocent now.”

“I'm sorry, I don't know what you’re talking about Logan," You started smirking.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about,” Logan growled, his voice low. "You were bending over out there, practically flashing your ass at me. You knew what you were doing, didn’t you? Getting me all hard in front of your old man huh?”

“I was just trying to fix the volume for you.” Still trying to keep the innocent act up.

“Bullshit baby,” he said eying your mini skirt. 

Logan's eyes darkened with desire as he walked closer to you, backing you against the wall. "Don't play dumb. You know exactly the effect you have on me." His voice was low and husky.

"Walking around in these tiny outfits, bending over every chance you get."

As you locked eyes with Logan, your steady gaze holding his, you repeated your question, "And what are you gonna do about it?" You slowly knelt before him, your face now inches away from the button of his jeans. 

Logan's gazed down at you, hand going to caress your chin. He took a step closer to you. "You know what I wanna do, outta teach you a lesson," he said, his voice hoarse with lust.

Within seconds you pulled his pants down, dragging his boxers along with them letting his dick spring freely out. 

"Suck on it." 

Obeying what he said you started coating his cock with your spit. Logan groaned softly as your lips wrapped around his thick shaft, your tongue swirling expertly. His hands tangled in your hair, guiding your head as you bobbed up and down. "Fuck, just like that baby," he breathed, trying to keep his voice low.

“Ah, fuck.” Hearing him moan made you love pleasing Logan with his cock in your mouth. That alone made you soaking wet. 

He grunted as he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, your lips stretched wide around his girth gagging a bit, eyes watering. "Shh, careful now," he whispered urgently, glancing at the door. "We can't make too much noise with your dad right downstairs."

Logan's eyes widened in shock and arousal as you carefully moved your mouth off his throbbing erection, your voice breathy as you said "It's too much, Daddy." He shuddered at the forbidden words, his cock twitching with need even as his mind reeled.

His hands shook as he watched you wipe a strand of your spit off your hand, the sight sending a jolt of desire through him. He quickly glanced at the door again before grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

"Fuck, baby, you can't say that out loud. Not ever."

Gripping on your chin tightened as you wrapped your lips around his hot, hard flesh once more. His voice grew strained as he hissed, "Faster, baby… just like that... Oh God, harder...harder... I'm not gonna last... not with you sucking me off like that..."

Logan's words tumbled out in a desperate, breathless rush as you worked his throbbing cock with your mouth. "This is so wrong... but fuck baby, your mouth feels so good... I can't think straight... shit, I'm not gonna last... oh fuck, I'm gonna..."

His voice rose to a hoarse scream as his orgasm crashed over him, his hips bucking wildly as he fucked your mouth without warning. "Fuckk!" he groaned, his cock pulsing violently as he erupted into your mouth, painting your throat with thick ropes of cum.

He panted, trying to catch his breath as he came down from his high.

"Your dad's gonna kill me," he said shakily, his body still trembling from release. He quickly tucked himself back into his pants before pulling you up into his arms.

[amaranthineghost]

| I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her.

ꕥ authors note: I enjoyed this too much, probably one of my favorites I've written, not requested. side note, this will probably be the last thing i write because i work like 20 hours this weekend (including friday) plus another 15 hours next week(not including sunday) so i'll be busy with work and school, but i'll try my best to get some writing done. I suspect i'll be working more because of christmas being close, but we'll see! thanks for all the support &lt;3

if anyone has any christmas requests for any driver, PLEASE i would love to write it :3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of anxiety and overthinking and everything that comes with it, as well as struggles eating caused by anxiety, partially unrevised.

GIVING LOVE WAS EASY. receiving it felt too good to be true. giving love was easy when she'd spent her entire adolescence handing it out like a warm beverage on a cold day. it was always up for grabs, and people always wanted to take it for granted.

the idea of love was something she'd daydream about daily, craving it in a way she didn't believed she deserved. giving her love away was easy because she had lots to give. she'd trust easily, but not at the same time. she'd give her heart, but not her mind and that's how she'd end up hurting.

she longed to be loved. she swore every single love language was hers, but she'd realize how often she'd crave a single touch from the man she wanted. physical touch was always the one she longed for.

love was hard to believe. she was surrounded by it, but she never had it on the level others had.

she longed to be loved, but could she handle being loved? she knew she couldn't from past, failed relationships that failed because of her. because all it took was one relationship to break her trust for the rest to follow.

it was hard to trust that relationship to begin with, anxiety ate her away with every waking moment. she didn't believe she deserved to receive love in return of giving hers away. countless times her friends told her that he didn't deserve the love she gave him, it was best that she found out who he really was, but it destroyed her.

because now when any man showed any slight interest in her, she'd recede with heaps of anxiety.

growing up, from a kid to a teenager, she was never told she was pretty or attractive. she never had the attention from the right guys to make her feel it too. she knew she didn't need guys to tell her things to make her feel better, but she wanted them to. she'd watch her friends find solid relationships, or go between guys. she couldn't find one.

it solidified her belief that maybe she wasn't deserving. being loved was so foreign to her, she didn't know how it felt to be loved in the right way.

after all, all she knew was heartbreak and self-sabotage.

when she'd finally found her first relationship, she'd swallow the looming anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. because someone wanted to be with her. she'd give them all her heart, she'd give them her trust.

but a relationship laced with infidelity was bound to burn. and so it did. it set a fire greater than she could've put out by herself. because deep inside, it still burned in her heart. it ruined her. now she couldn't comprehend the idea of trusting someone on such a level as a relationship. being genuinely loved by someone other than herself, but even she couldn't. she didn't deserve it. because what others couldn't see in her, she couldn't see in herself.

every other 'relationship' that followed failed. they burned before they even got a chance to ignite into something else. something good, and or something bad.

because she'd never let them get close enough to have her trust. she wasn't the type to easily communicate her feelings towards another individual, pushing it into the deepest depths of her heart and mind. for her and her only.

growing up, her feelings were often stepped on or put out. she'd get called a cry baby, or no one would even care to listen. it's one of the reasons her self sabotages work so well.

she wouldn't communicate, a key component to the formula for a relationship. because what goods a relationship that you know nothing about. what goods a relationship that she's miserable in because she's too scared and untrusting to let someone through to her heart again.

it was a miracle she even managed to date him, let alone meet him in the first place. he was famous, she was her. one of the reasons she didn't think the relationship was going to go as far as it did.

because she'd constantly compare herself to his former lovers. pretty models with perfect features, famous like him.

but the attraction between the two was undeniable, even she had to admit. when they'd lock eyes for the first time, she felt that same anxiety. she always felt it when faced with anything that could be more than just a friendship. but he was different because not only was the feeling of anxiety present, the feeling of wanting more, longing.

though with every notification, she found herself praying it wasn't him, not because she didn't like him because dear god, he was probably the most attractive man she's ever seen. but because she didn't know how to talk to someone with the intention of being more than friends.

it was so vastly different than if she was texting to become friends. she couldn't imagine going from barely knowing each other, to hanging out, to dating.

because it meant she had to trust the person. she'd have to trust herself, and she didn't know if she could handle it.

she found herself struggling to reply within a message that didn't seem too dry, but not giving her burning heart away like charity. she was never good at it.

but when random texts throughout the day turned to late night conversations over the phone, to falling asleep on facetime calls, she knew she was in too deep.

especially when they'd hung out for the first time. they had a magnetic energy pulling one another together, like they couldn't and wouldn't be separated. neither of them wanted to.

but she didn't know what to tell him. she didn't know how to express her feelings when she's forced herself to keep quiet for as long as she can remember. she didn't know how to tell him she needed words of reassurance because her anxiety was her mortal enemy.

it wasn't like she couldn't trust him, she knew she could. but her mind made every possible way that he couldn't be trusted by her. it was always in her thoughts.

self sabotage seemed like the better alternative than spilling her heart and hurt to him, or overthinking every way that this would be a bad thing because there's no way he could be good to her.

when the days of anxiety got particularly worse after they'd started dating, he'd notice the times when she'd shy from his touch. he noticed her lips more irritated than usual from the consistent biting, or how short her nails became. how little she ate, and how much she'd pick at her food, pushing it around the plate till it got cold.

days like those, he did what he could with what he knew, which seemed like nothing. but he'd never fail to say something that he'd hoped would make her feel better.

and it did, at least a little.

as she laid on her back in his bed, her eyes stared into the dark of his room. her stomach rolled with the nauseous feeling that came with her anxiety, and biting her lip became a routine. her head turned to see the back of his. lando's curly hair, the chain around his neck, his bare shoulders and back. a sight to see, especially in the dark.

she'd spent countless nights awake long after he falls asleep, each time she'd carefully reach for his phone. she knew it was wrong, but she needed reassurance, and she didn't want to ask for it. but his phone was password protected, something she was too scared to even hint at.

so it became a routine. stay up well past when he'd fallen asleep, slipping his phone in her hand and simply trying a few passcodes she could think of that might work. to no avail, she'd place the phone right back, trying to make it seem like it never moved.

his phone had face id, she knew but it always seemed too risky, even for her. but she was desperate. she needed to know even when in her heart, she knew there wasn't a chance of infidelity. but her heart was charred and still in flames, so it wasn't enough.

she'd hold his phone in her hand, sliding across the cold phone case that'd matched hers. her heart beat in her chest as she slowly turned closer.

her body loomed over his, her arm snaking in front of his tired face, desperately trying for face id. she knew it'd be too dark, but this was the only time she'd actually try something. she saw the screen illuminate his face slightly, but not enough.

" 'm password's your birthday," his words slurred because of his tiredness, but nonetheless she heard him and she froze. he knew she'd been trying to get into his phone? for how long?

her mouth was dropped open and she slowly retreated the phone, though the rest of her body in shock. her feelings were conflicting. it never occurred to her that his password would be about her. because in her mind, she wasn't important enough for that.

with her breath held, sweaty palms and shaky hands, her fingers danced across the number pad, entering the date.

it worked, her eyes flickering back to him. the fact he was so willing was already enough to calm her because if it was any of her past situationships, she'd be sure they wouldn't be so forgiving if they found her with their phone. it was a deal breaker in the past.

but the way he just didn't care was nearly enough for her. at this point, she just wanted a peak, and that's all she did.

when she reassured her heart, she'd slid his phone back on his bedside table. she laid back down on her side, thoughts running through her mind at a million miles. she turned to him once again, slipping her arms around his midsection. she felt the warmth of his back spread across her chest, pressing her cheek against his skin and fluttering her eyes shut. for so long, she'd craved touch, being held by someone she was in love with.

she'd remember the last feeling she felt before slipping into a warm slumber, the sensation of his smooth and callused hand around her wrist, his thumb caressing her skin softly. she'd smirk against his back.

when morning came, she didn't know what to expect. most of the time, she wouldn't even make it through the night before she was kicked out, forced to go back home. because to them, it was much easier to force her out than to have a conversation with her. she didn't know which one she'd prefer though.

because what she didn't expect was waking up to the sun in her face, leaking through the curtains and spilling across the bed. she'd found her way to the other side of his bed, lying on her stomach with his arm across her back. her hands found their way to his wrist, feeling the multitude of bracelets between her fingers. she examined the difference between them, the fancy designers to handmade ones from his fans.

though mostly silver, there was an odd gold one that stood out, it caught her attention. the corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she separated it from the rest on his wrist. though it was mostly a simple thin chain, it had a bar with the designer name on it. she'd liked it. it was simple and pretty.

she heard the bed rustle next to her, she dropped the bracelet back down on his wrist, her head turning to watch him go from lying on his stomach to pressing his chest against her back. though his eyes still closed, he'd press his face into her neck tiredly. the hand that she'd played with grabbed hers while his other arm snaked around her shoulder and across her chest.

"you can have it, if you want," he muttered against her skin, sending chills down her spine and vibrations through her skin as she inhaled sharply. she watched him bring his hands close together, unclasping the simple bracelet.

"you don't have to, lando-" she stuttered, assuring him it was fine, but he was stubborn. he'd shush her, lifting his head to find her wrist as he'd place it around it.

" 'ts fine," he told her, "pretty girls should have pretty bracelets," he whispered against her shoulder, his lips lingering on her skin. he'd tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. she felt his breath against her, shuddering.

"are you sure?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper when she'd look into his green eyes, watching how his pupils change size. she now laid facing him with her arm under her, supporting her weight.

she was scared it was some sort of bribe, that he'd ask her to do something in return, or that it'd be a thing to use for her to overlook something he'd done.

he nodded, studying every feature of her face. every mole, freckle and blemish, every lash on her eyelid, noticing how some crossed over the other.

"y'know we need to talk, yeah?" his tone was gentle, the rasp of his morning voice melted her brain. her heart paused, her eyes dancing across his face as he waited for an answer. his head tilted to the side.

she brought her hand to her face, biting at the flesh around her nails nervously. she felt anxiety creep over her body, tummy churning with unease. she just nodded back, unknowing of what to say.

" 'm not mad, love," he brought his hand to her face, the pads of his fingers running across her cheek, slipping into her hair, "jus' want to know what's goin' on."

the way his voice was so warm and inviting, with the slight rasp in his throat, causing a dip in his voice with every hushed word he spoke, it caused shivers across her body.

her lips parted, but no words left her throat. she pursed them together before thinking of what to say. she'd whisper back to him, "I jus' don't know how to tell you."

his head tilted even more, feeling his fingers scratch her scalp softly, "tell me what?"

"how I feel."

he felt a pang in his heart as he heard her words, the hurt laced into her voice as she watched his face closely, "how do you feel?"

she hesitated, looking at her hand nervously, finicking with the new bracelet on her wrist when he'd carefully push her chin up to meet his face.

she sighed, biting her cheek, "I feel," she started, "like I don't deserve to be loved."

she'd watch his eyes soften at her words, the expression on his face growing sadder the more he processed what she said.

he shook his head, "you do deserve it, darling, m'kay?" he leaned closer, his forehead against her, "I don't know how many times I'll need to say it for you, but I will because it's true."

his words sunk into her skin, her mind, her heart still set afire all these years later. she couldn't extinguish it by herself, but he could.

the fire that burned in her heart started to diminish with every word, with every sentence of affirmation from him. it told her she could spill her guts to him and he'd be there to simply listen. she needed that so desperately.

"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," he sat up more on the bed, his head stretching above hers, "but we need to work together on this." his hand pulled from her hair and lined across her jaw.

she nodded, sighing softly as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her tongue gliding across her cracked lips with a stinging pain.

"I jus' get really anxious, and then I start to overthink," she started so easily and without realizing, she couldn't stop.

she'd spill all her trust on him and he'd pick it up and lock it safely with him. because he'd die than betray her trust, after they'd worked so hard to make this work.

he'd see the fire ablaze in her heart and body and put it out in a matter of a few words when it took her years to even lessen the hurt.

he'd restore her charred heart, picking away at the blackness that plagued it. picking her mind apart from the bad and making her realize what she needed all along.

he put out her fire.

[edgeray]

I just read your dragon arle x dragon hunter reader fic and I can't stop rereading it. Can I request either the dragon sibs & arlecchino's pov of the fic or a continuation of the fic (either of just reader's daily life now that they've been adopted by a dragon family or of arlecchino and (maybe) the dragon babies having human forms and surprising the reader with them (maybe both))?

Also could I be 🏹 anon? (I'm not the one who requested dragon arle x dragon hunter reader but damn do I wish I was)

Dragon Hunter Mother Part 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N -  Part 1 here I'M BACKKKKKKKKKK. Okay, wow, uh, hi, anons! Yes, you can be 🏹 anon, I added you to the list a while ago. To the anon that was asking for readers to fight off other dragon hunters, if you request again, give yourself a name/emoji like my other wonderful anons :). 🍎 anon, I'm not sure what you mean by real form, but I had the real form for Arlecchino as her human form.  If it wasn't clear, I thought I was just going to combine all three of these into one part, hopefully that's okay with you guys. I wrote this as best as I could. I didn't think the dragon au! would be so liked but guess the world building I pulled from my ass paid off. Reader will be fem just like the first part. Hopefully you guys like this sequel! And hope the world building for this is okay. I don't know why, but I decided to put an excessive amount of stupid world building that probably doesn't make sense… Also made the babies smaller (and I changed this in the first part too) so cuddling them can be better <33 sorry this took so long... hopefully the length makes up for it. 🫶 this makes the longest request I've done so far, and somehow I wrote all of this today... Content warnings / info - creature x reader, arlecchino is a dragon. fem reader, graphic violence, you get called a bitch (sorry), 3.9k words

Being kidnapped adopted by a family of dragons was not on your bucket list, but here you are. At the beginning, you considered running– after all, you had no idea if you were just going to be emergency dragon food or something, though logically you knew that dragons didn't eat humans. You were a hunter, and you were on a job, but you couldn't find it within yourself to pick up the sword again. Not only would that be foolish because there was no fathomable way for you to beat the Father dragon, but the trio of younglings had grown on you in such a short amount of time. It's only been a few weeks, and you feel like you've quickly adjusted to this weird, but cozy family nonetheless. 

The first night you met the dragons quickly became a fond memory to recall back to. What transpired during that night was this: after the babies had successfully calmed down their Father, their Father sat up, growling something to the hatchlings. The large dragon began striding in the direction of where it came from, and the babies left your side to follow. Confusion struck you and you approached the Father dragon.

“Hey, wait, where are you guys–” your own yelp interrupted you as the larger dragon's tail coiled around, picking you up like you were no more than a leaf. You squirmed in its grasp until you were dropped onto the Father’s head. Your eyes widened upon realizing what they were going to do, and you cling onto one of the spikes on the dragon’s head for dear life. The Father dragon flaps its wings a few times, striding backwards, and then begins running. The movements nearly threw you off of the dragon had you not white-knucle gripped onto it, and then you feel the rushing of wind all over you, threatening to blow you away. Your eyes burned from the oncoming torrent, and you shutted your eyes as the frigid night air whips around you, just praying to your archons that you remain alive after this. 

You didn’t know how long you squeezed your eyes shut, but by the time the icy gusts stopped pricking at your skin–only just caressing your skin like a gentle embrace–it’s when you finally opened your eyes. A black canvas dotted with various bright specks greeted your vision, and you gaped silently. You’ve always thought that the night was beautiful, but up close, you were sure of it; it’s entrancing and no short of magnificent. The beating organ inside of your chest thumped rhythmically, and you thought that if you reached out your hand, you would be able to feel the stars on your fingertips. 

You heard a croak beside you and you recalled that you were among dragons. You looked down. The dragon below you tilted their head towards you, glaring back at you over its wings, piercing crossed eyes scrutinizing you. Sheepishly smiling, you rub its head gently with your hand, and you could physically feel it shiver. You relaxed your hold, leaning forward and allowing your front to press against its scale to rest. Turning your head to the side, you watch miniature dragons fly, somehow keeping up with their father. You tentatively peeked down to see how high up you are, and your stomach churned uneasily. Distracting yourself from the terrifying height you’re at, how you can barely see the peaks of the coniferous trees, you try to think where they were taking you. Surely… you weren’t going to be stowed away in their den as emergency food… right? The babies would protect you… hopefully. 

The rest of the ride was smooth; somehow you had not fallen off. They took you to a cave at the base of the mountain in the center of the forest. Inside the cavern, the ground was matted with wool. This must have come from the sheeps that the Father dragon reportedly stole from the nearby villages. You assumed that this is a nest. The red one (should you just give them names instead of referring to them by their colors? You'll call the red one “Ruby” for now), nudged the back of your leg towards the nest, before its siblings leapt into it. Like cats, “Aqua” (short for Aquamarine) circled around a certain area before laying down, its sibling, “Amber,” following it and curling beside it. 

You gazed at “Father” to check for any signs of protest, but it too steps towards the nest before laying down. Its massive body took up the majority of the nest, and it used its tail to gently push “Aqua” and “Amber” closer to it. Seemed like there was no protest from Father. Hesitantly, you approached the nest, feeling like you just stepped onto sacred grounds you didn't belong to. Tentatively, you laid on your side and Ruby went to snuggle against its other siblings. 

Soon, the babies’ snores filled the cavern. Sleep was hard to come by, especially since you were still in your armor and the matting wasn't very comfortable. The cold didn't help either. You ended up just gazing at the wilderness beyond the cave, observing the crescent moon. Eventually, your body became sore from the uncomfortable position, and you figured that slumber wouldn’t come to you soon anyways. Standing up, you made your way towards the exit, just to stretch your legs and take some fresh air. 

Leaning against the entrance, your thoughts ran rampant with wonderings. 

Should you run away? Did you even want to run away? What about your family? What about your job? Well… your family cared about your other siblings more anyways and it wasn't like you liked your job–you've always wanted a break from it. You doubt you could run away from them if you did; dragons had an impressive sense of smell and you wouldn't get very far in this terrain anyways. The babies specifically seemed especially fond of you, and their father tolerated you enough… maybe they had adopted you as their family? If so, then… What was wrong with having a serene life with dragons? 

Well, assuming, again, that they didn't want to eat you. But you didn't want to go back. That life of glory was for someone else. You'd rather live quietly and cozily, even if you were dirt poor. 

“Do you not intend on running away?” 

Your blood froze from the sudden voice, coming from behind you. You whipped around to see a human–no, something that looked like a human–advancing, and you took a step back. You notice the missing large dragon from the nest, only the hatchlings remain, unaware of their missing father. This… creature looked human (a rather pale, tall, and handsome female human) with two spiky, blackhorns peaking above her predominantly white strands, a draconic black and red tail loosely curled around her legs, and black forearms and clawed hands. But the moment you locked eyes with red x-eyes, you knew who she was. Or more like, what she was. 

She was, perhaps, the most breathtaking being you've ever seen, the moonlight making her seem elysian. The embodiment of perfection, for both human and beast, with her voice belonging to those of angels. 

But she was still a dragon, and that thought threw you back to reality. 

“You're human… but a dragon,” you stated matter-of-factly, your flusteredness apparent in your voice.

Her face remained as stoney as her dragon form. “You're correct, Miss Dragon Hunter.” 

This was new. Even if you had extensively researched dragons, you never knew of this. “How?”

“Is that something I should be telling a dragon hunter?” 

You bit your lip. “Is this how ancient dragons were able to stay hidden from us?” You wondered out loud.

“Precisely.” 

“If your human form is female-presenting… Does that mean you're a female dragon? But why? Female dragons take… well, a maternal role, but you serve the paternal role. I thought… that you were a male dragon.” 

“I am indeed a female dragon. However… I never sought out a mate, and so I could not produce my own children. The children,” she gestured at the sleeping hatchlings. “were runts when I found them. Like myself, they had no paternal figure, and the maternal figure naturally abandoned them after birth, so I stepped in.”

You nodded. “Why… did you not kill me?” 

“You fed them. And, with that, I believe they saw you as the maternal figure they lacked. They would be saddened if I killed you. But… considering that you’re a dragon hunter… it's quite a shame,” she remarked threateningly as she extended out her claws, nearing you. Your heart thundered in your ears, fear pumping through every vein. She was going to kill you? 

“Wait, wait. I'll give up. I won't go back. I swear,” you state, stepping back. 

“And why should I believe you?” 

Quickly, you removed the chainmail armor off of you, and with great effort, ripped out the patch stitched onto your shoulder pad. You chucked the armor into a forsaken direction, before you offered the patch to her. “This… this is a symbol of my occupation as a dragon hunter. Without it, I'm nobody. It’s my proof that I'm a dragon hunter. If I don't have it, I can't get any kill orders or receive any weapons or additional aid.”

The dragon raised her brow. A clawed hand took the patch from your hand, before a fire erupted from her palm, effortlessly burning it into ashes. “But how do I know you won't attempt to hurt my family?” She growled.

“I wouldn't. I've… never wanted to be a dragon hunter. I was born into a prestigious dragon hunter family, and I was expected to hunt myself. But… I never wanted to kill dragons.” You tilted your head down, breaking eye contact from her in favor of looking at your feet. 

The dragon stalked towards you until she was only a few inches away. Even in human form, she still towered over you. She pulled you with her tail, which winded around your midsection tightly until she was flushed against you. She gripped your chin in between her clawed fingers. 

“I'll be watching you myself. For now, my children enjoy your presence. But if a single one of them cries so much because of you, know that you will be killed, mercilessly and painfully. Do you understand that, human?”  

“Yes…” You paused when you realized you didn't have her name. You looked at her expectedly. 

“It's Arlecchino.” 

“Yes, Arlecchino. I understand.” Her name sounded right on your tongue.

“Good. Come now, the children are rather quick on noticing my absence from the nest.” Arlecchino expressed, turning back.

“I think I'll stay out here for a while. It's hard for me to fall asleep… it's a bit cold for humans,” you sheepishly admitted. “I'll come back when I'm more tired, I promise.” 

Arlecchino turned around to observe you, noticing your shivering form and the goosebumps on your skin. “I believe I have a solution. Come,” she said, offering her hand towards you. 

You took her hand, and she laid you to the nest again. She laid down on her side first, before urging you to follow her. The nest was comically large compared to the two of you and the baby dragons now that she was in her human form. As you set yourself down, back facing her, clawed hands found their way around your waist before hauling you towards her, her chest pressed against your spine. You hear the flap of a wing, and then the wing is casted over the two of you, acting as a makeshift blanket. You gasped as her hot breath tickled your earlobe, the tips of your ears burning. “Warm enough for you now, human?”

You still had trouble sleeping that night, but for a different reason. 

— 

You learned of the hatchlings' names the day after. Translated to human language from the draconic tongue, “Ruby” was actually Lyney, and his siblings Lynette and Freminet, “Aqua” and “Amber” respectively. Their personalities shone through pretty quickly the longer you stayed with them. 

Lyney, undoubtedly, was the most energetic and clingy, in an endearing way. Always the first one up and stirring up trouble, alongside his younger brother, Freminet–even though Freminet was the shy, considerate one. Lynette was quiet but always present, comparable to a cat when Lyney acted the most like a puppy, and Freminet, a deer. Lyney had once nearly burned down the nest out of sheer eagerness when you surprised them by arriving at the cave with fish when they had just woken up. It didn't take you long to realize that cod was Lyney's favorite, even when you didn't understand dragon language. 

Arlecchino warmed up to you eventually. The first night helped a lot, and so did the children. Standoffish at first, once she realized you had the best intentions in mind for her children she was begrudgingly softer with you. The ‘nestling’ (as the children resorted to calling it after Freminet saw it, having woken up in the middle of the night when Lyney's tail accidentally whacked him) became a nightly occurrence, and you couldn't say that you were complaining. It became evident to yourself that you were attracted to Arlecchino. She was wordlessly sweet, and attentive to you, but especially the children. A powerful, ancient dragon practically bowing down to dragons five times smaller than her was amusing to witness. 

You were able to dissuade Arlecchino's attempts from visiting the nearby villages now that you were able to get the food for the hatchlings. Arlecchino had stopped visiting villages once she was able to obtain a human form, which allowed her to more efficiently metabolize food unlike beforehand. However, upon taking care of the Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet, she needed much more than what the forest could provide, hence the frequent visits. 

Arlecchino did eventually tell you how her human form came to be. Dragons are, first and foremost, creatures created with magic, and so also hold magic. There are two different maturities that dragons reach in their lifetime. The physical maturity, which is when their wings are fully developed and they reach the age when they no longer have to be sheltered. Then, there is the magical maturity, when they learn to properly utilize the magic they're born with once enough magic has been culminated internally over the years. Dragons reach magical maturity after their second molt, and shapeshifting is the most common application; though most dragons like Arlecchino use human forms in order to assimilate into human society. It explains why ancient dragons are rarely ever seen. Draconic magic is unlike anything you've ever seen, incomparable to how humans use it–you couldn't even wrap your head around it. Either way, once Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet reach of age, they too will have human forms. You wondered what they would look like. 

Your life is simple, albeit a bit boring, but nonetheless, you couldn't love it more. You have children that keep you on your toes, and you have… well, Arlecchino, your personal heater at night. It's the cozy life you've always wanted, though you'd like for the nest to be more comfortable, and considerably warmer. 

It's why you’re currently at a nearby town, buying more wool with the money that you had when you were still a dragon hunter. You had traveled with Arlecchino to your hometown to retrieve the money you secretly stashed away, which could have bought a large house in the center of the town. At least, being a dragon hunter wasn't entirely useless. 

You buy your wool and head towards the edge of the forest that bordered the town. The children were waiting for you there, wanting to see what new treats you were getting them. Last time was grilled steak. This time it's dried fruits. It'd be the first time that they tried dried fruits, you hope that they'll like them. As you treach back to where you told them to stay, you notice footprints in the dirt– footprints that weren't yours, and there were multiple of them. All of them seemed to belong to men. Terror struck you in an instant. Why were there people here? People rarely come here. No, it should be fine, it’s just foragers, right? 

Anxiety grips at you as you continue, but it's quickly dispelled once you find the dragons, all safe and sound. You exhale and giggle as Lyney leaps into your arms, while Lynette brushes against your leg and Freminet perches on top of your head. 

“Freminet, you're heavy–” you stop when something snaps behind you. Immediately, you set down Lyney and Freminet before turning around, and your worst fears come to fruition as your sight lands on a group of men coming from the bushes, familiar swords and armor gleaming in the sunlight. Your stomach drops upon the realization. Dragon hunters. And there's about ten of them. Ten of them versus one of you. 

You step in front of the dragons immediately, your hand trailing to the small knife in your pocket. 

“Hey, the old man was right. Following that bitch would lead us to the dragons,” one of them said. “How much is for each head?”

“Well, babies are rare. So a few million Mora per head. Can be ten times more if we get them alive.”

“Get your Father,” you whisper to them, as you push the dragons. They croak worriedly at you, their teeth tugging on your boot for you to come with them. 

“Go!” You yelled a little more assertively. Lynette and Freminet fly off to the direction of the cave, while Lyney remains. You were about to shoo off Lyney too, but then you hear the sound of a bow being drawn. 

It's like you suddenly become possessed, your body moving on automatically as you charge at the archer, short knife in hand. You knock his hand away, making their arrow shoot astray instead of at one of the dragons still flying, before you slit his throat. You narrowly dodge one of the swordsmen's strike, his long-blade an inch away from your chest. Another one from behind you swings, and this time it cuts your side, only shallowly so. You're thankful that your dragon hunter instincts and reflexives are still imprinted on your body, as that's the only thing keeping you alive and allowing you to dodge them. Though they all seem like amateur dragon hunters, compared to you who was the best out of your year, there were still many more of them than you

Another archer draws his bow, but you're still preoccupied with dodging. This foraging knife can barely do shit, and you're hardly able to fend off against the ones surrounding you. The group of dragon hunters split off, half of them chasing towards where Lynette and Freminet went while the other half is currently fighting you.  

No, no, you can't reach him in time, what if he hits Lyney or Freminet–

Fire abruptly emerges, scalding the archer's face making him cry out. The fallen archer's scream successfully distracts the men around you, and you weasel your way out, grabbing Lyney who’s in the process of breathing out fire again and running. You drop your backpack to allow you to run better, but not before making sure you chuck it at one of the hunters. 

“Good job, Lyney,” you praise the hatchling in your arms, stroking his head. 

You had to make sure the group in front didn't find the cave. Lynette and Freminet aren't fast flyers, their wings aren't nearly developed yet. You fear that more archers are with the group in front. Thanks to the lack of weight on you, you're able to evade the ones behind quickly, and catch up to the half of the hunters that had run off earlier. 

The sound of their own footsteps mask yours, and you’re able to stab the swordsman that's lacking behind in the neck, before stealing his sword. His scream attracts the attention from the other hunters and they spin around to face you. Good, they won't be focused on the other dragons now. 

“Lyney, go, please. Your siblings need their big brother,” you whispered, giving the hatchling one more stroke on the head before throwing him up in the air. Lyney, this time, obeys you, flying away but not before giving you one more glance back. It’s just you and five hunters in front of you, another three coming soon. The archers are the most pressing concern, as you rush at them. However, two swordsmen block you from them. 

“No!” You scream as the archers take aim, their arrows aimed at Lyney. You throw your knife, past the blade-wielding hunters and into the back of the head of one of the archers. However, that action cost you your arm getting cut, a long slash down the side of your forearm. You hiss, backing away, but the three of them quickly surround you. There’s still a single archer left. 

“Fuck, what are you even protecting those stupid reptiles anyways? Just tell us where they live and we'll let you live!” 

You only grit your teeth and ready your sword. The only way you can get to the last archer is if you brute force your way, but you can't. You hear footsteps approaching from behind, and the remaining three are already here. 

“We need her alive for now, so she can tell us where it is,” you hear one of them say.

The idea starts settling inside of you–that you're going to die, if it continues like this. You’re not going to tell them where the cave is obviously, even with whatever sick torture they have in plan for you. But were you willing to die now? After you've just achieved the life you had always wanted? You just wanted to live a peaceful life… was this your karma for being a dragon hunter? You swallow thickly, trying to imagine not seeing the hatchlings again or even Arlecchino. In the short time you’ve spent with them, you really have seen them as your own, your family. Ironic that you end up dying for dragons when you yourself were a dragon hunter, huh?

Continuing fighting would be pointless. You’re dead either way, why struggle more? Still… the children are safe. It'd be okay. It'd be okay. They've survived before you, and they'll continue to survive after. Dying would be okay. 

You close your eyes, trying to blink the tears away. It'll be okay, it'll be–

A roar booms through the forest, and then a loud boom, the ground shaking violently underneath you, causing you to tumble onto the floor harshly. In front of you, on top of the crushed bodies of the former dragon hunters, the dragon form of Arlecchino appears. You quickly run to her side, grasping onto one of her legs. Soon, dark red flames escape out of her throat, enveloping the last of the hunters and then, all ten hunters are dead, just like that. 

Once the last hunter falls, Arlecchino immediately turns into her human form, holding you in her arms. You collapse into her arms, the exhaustion from the running and fighting weighing down on you as the adrenaline quickly disappears. 

“The… children?” you're able to pant out as you look up at her. 

“They're safe.” Her eyes hold gratitude towards you. “I thought I lost you.”

“I'm okay, Arlecchino, I promise. Just a few cuts,” you reassure her with a smile, nuzzling into her neck. She sighs and kisses the top of your head. 

“I’m not letting you go anywhere without me anymore.”

“Fine…” 

[pearlessance]

Lust Among Thieves [part two]

[part one]

Summary: Fifteen years after escaping your captors, leaving them and the cabin in the woods behind, you end up in a community named Jackson and find yourself repeating the same old habits. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, angst galore, mild infidelity (Tommy is with Maria but he and reader share one [1] kiss), canon typical violence, mention of kidnapping, mention of blood, angssssttt but with a happy ending (reader ends up with one brother!!!) NOTE: this is a cowrite i've done with my BFF joelmillersgirlfriend!! make sure to go and read her other stuff on A03! thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on this one, I'm glad you guys are liking it! let us know what you think about the ending <3 [MASTERLIST]

The sun is so warm that it’s beginning to melt the snow, turning it from soft and fluffy to a wet sort of slush. A comforting relief, because the winter holds memories you’re better off leaving behind. Memories of scowls and whittling knives, of the taste of whiskey and lighthearted laughter.

After fifteen years, you thought you’d grow out of the feeling, that you’d grieve the loss and go on instead to appreciate the recovery of your autonomy. But every winter, without fail, you remember your time in that cabin. You remember them. 

You’d never grown out of the feeling and you’d never grown into the now tattered canvas coat. If you closed your eyes and imagined the burn of the winter snow grazing your skin, you could remember how Joel smelled. You could remember how Tommy’s lips tasted.

But years had passed. The memory was now a faint one and one that you tried not to dwell on for too long. You have met a lot of people over the years and had dangerous encounters daily. Why was this one different?

Joel and Tommy had turned you into a new person within the four walls of that cabin. You weren’t the same afterward, now you were sculpted into a being with a sharp tongue and a toughed exterior yet… the core of you was soft. If you dug deep enough, the creature that Joel and Tommy had created was still inside of you, tender and vulnerable. 

For a while, you considered what you would do if you ever encountered them again. You were so far away from the outskirts of the Boston QZ, the death of your father and the weight of the situation turning into a calloused scar instead of a leaking wound over time. Over the past fifteen years, you had made your way across the country, searching for something. Whatever that something was, you weren’t sure of yet.

If you saw the brothers, would you be angry? Would they? They were heavy on your mind that morning as you made your way through the abandoned, ice-covered streets of Jackson Hole Wyoming.

You had left a compound back in Nebraska weeks ago. The people there weren’t bad, but it felt like another washed-down version of living under FEDRA. Constant patrolling, ridiculous rules. It was no surprise that you felt trapped because you had always felt trapped. It was only a matter of time before you ran away. It was the only thing that you were good at. 

You jumped from house to house in Wyoming, occasionally spending a couple of days if you were tired of the constant headache of moving every day. Most of your days consisted of you laying on an old, lifeless mattress, staring up at the ceiling and asking yourself ‘What if I never left?’ Would you have more of a purpose now? Would you not be alone?

You practiced your regular routine of bouncing through dilapidated houses, grabbing what supplies were still left, which was practically nothing. For an area where you had encountered absolutely no one, the houses were surprisingly scarce. 

It was getting late in the evening, and you had picked a house to settle down in for the night. The house had a rough exterior, similar to yours, but the inside was surprisingly still in good condition. You crept through the house, picking through each drawer and cabinet to once again, find nothing.

Truly, the master bedroom should have been an indicator to leave, but you were always a sucker for taking things that did not belong to you.

Just when you were about to call searching the house quits and crack open a book from your bag, you noticed a shifted floorboard in the bedroom. You hummed to yourself in curiosity, reaching down to investigate the suspicious piece of wood. It came out of the floor easily, revealing the contents buried inside. 

Ammo, water, packaged food, medicine. 

But most importantly, a bottle of Jack. Jesus, how long had it been since you had seen one of these? You laughed to yourself when you pulled it out of its hiding spot, half empty but still the perfect amount for a lone wanderer. 

You grabbed your pack, slipping all of the things you had found into it before you heard the voices. 

Fuck.

Moving swiftly, you grabbed everything you could before glancing around the bedroom. Footsteps and conversations were coming up the stairs, and you couldn’t believe how stupid you were for not checking the perimeter of the neighborhood before poking through the houses. 

“Jesse, go get the stuff from the master. Maria is gonna be pissed that we weren’t able to find more. Might as well bring back what we can,” you vaguely heard a gruff voice say. 

Into the closet you went, quietly tiptoeing across the room. Your hands were shaking as you grasped the straps of your bag, praying that luck would be on your side, just this once. 

The second you faded into the darkness of the shadows in the closet, a man stepped into the bedroom. You could see him through the panels of the closet door, especially if you squinted in just the right way.

He appeared young, with long dark hair that fell into his eyes when he glanced around the room. You held your breath when his sharp, determined eyes shifted to look over at the closet momentarily. It didn’t last long, which you were grateful for. You could feel your pulse ticking in your neck as he moved away to check the floorboards, knowing that he wasn’t going to be pleased with what he found. 

He was turned away from you so you couldn’t physically gauge his reaction, but his voice told you all you needed to know.

“Uh, we have a problem here. Stuff’s gone!” he shouted, standing back up quickly to unholster his gun. He glanced around the room once more, waiting for his partner to shout something back.

The voice was distant when it spoke, most likely still downstairs, waiting. “What do you mean, gone?”

The man who was only a few meters from you sighed, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s gone, someone must’ve taken it!”

You could hear heavy footsteps, every movement clearly laced with annoyance as he climbed the stairs. And then they stop a short distance away, and you hear the familiar click of his gun. 

In the holster strapped around your thigh sits your pistol. You have only two bullets—enough to kill a clicker in a pinch, but not enough to fend off two grown men who are also armed. You tighten your fingers around the handle of the old knife, leather now cracked with age, formed perfectly to the hills and valleys of your fingers.

Heart hammering, you know and accept the fact that you’re going to have to take your chances and run. You could already see the shadow of the man entering the room, grumbling at having to come up the stairs. His back was to the closet, approaching his partner.

“It was here two days ago,” he began before quickly stopping. His hand reached out, gesturing towards the ground. Your eyes squinted, following the gesture down until you saw what he found. Wet footprints.

You lunged out of the closet before anyone could even move, and latched onto the man's back like a starfish. You looked at the first man, Jesse, before pressing your knife against the second man's throat.

“Just let me leave. Let me leave and I won’t kill him,” you said coldly, the tip of the blade pushing into your prisoner. 

Jesse’s eyes widened, his hands spread in an attempt to calm you. “Hey, wait a second. We’re not looking for a fight. It doesn’t have to be like this,” he spoke, loosely holding his gun in his hand. You glanced at it with hesitation, which was enough time for your prisoner to grab your wrist and whip you around.

He was much larger than you, probably almost three times your size. There was no way in hell you would’ve been able to keep him restrained for long.

You whimpered in pain at the feeling of your wrist being twisted, the knife dropping out of your hand and clattering to the ground below.

“Stupid girl,” the man said, turning slowly to face you. There’s something about the way the words sound in his mouth that twists up your insides, a timbre that makes your hands tremble and shake. “Shouldn’t make threats when you’re outnum—” He stops. 

And your heart does, too. “Joel?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just narrows his eyes and clenches his teeth, jaw feathering. His hair has gone a little gray and there are defined wrinkles around his mouth and a scar across his nose that didn’t exist the last time you’d seen him, but you’re sure of it. As sure as you are of the ground beneath your feet, you’re sure that a ghost stands before you. 

His eyes soften as the realization hits. You know you’ve aged, too—though perhaps not as drastically.

Jesse is the one who speaks. “Do you know each other or something?”

“Yes,” Joel says, in perfect time as you answer, “No.”

“O…kay.” Jesse shifts uncomfortably on his feet before he closes the space between himself and the place you and Joel stand in what seems to be an eternal face-off. He plucks your knife up from the ground and hands it to you, hilt first. “Here. We don’t want any trouble.”

The shine of the blade catches Joel’s eye, and he scoffs as he processes what he sees. He takes the knife from Jesse’s hand before you get a chance to do so. He raises it in front of his face, no doubt inspecting the two letters etched into the metal.

“T.M? Tommy?” Jesse’s brows furrow as he turns his attention to you. “Is this Tommy’s knife?”

Neither of you answer him. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and sweat beads your hairline. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears and every cell in your body urges you to run as far and as fast as you can. 

“Joel,” Jesse says, voice a little more firm. 

“Just let me go,” you plead, staring Joel in the eye, trying to hide your fear. Not of him, but of the feeling that rises in you upon seeing him. The yearning, the desire, the familiarity. You’d convinced yourself it’d be gone by now, eviscerated. But feeling the warmth of his skin, smelling the pine scent of him—it all comes flooding back with a vengeance. “Please. Just give me the knife and I’ll walk away and we can pretend—”

“She’s coming back with us,” he tells Jesse. “Feed her. Get her some new clothes. If she wants to stay, there’s that empty house over by the cemetery. Fixed it up last week.”

“Stay? Where?”

“A town,” Jesse answers. He smiles at you and it’s warm and inviting, something you haven’t seen in some time. “A community.”

Your stomach growls at the thought of a decent meal, but your fear has you shaking your head. “No, I can’t. I’m—”

“You what?” Joel’s voice cuts through you. “Don’t got anywhere else to go. God knows how long it’s been since you last ate.”

You want to protest, to argue with him, to prove him wrong. But you can’t, because he’s right, and that fact enrages you more than anything else. 

Still, you agree. One night, you tell yourself. A good meal and a good night’s sleep and then you’d leave, never to be seen again.

Jesse helped you onto the back of his horse, leading the way back to the settlement while Joel followed. Every time you glanced back, unable to prevent yourself from looking at Joel, you saw his icy gaze watching your own. You swallowed nervously, pulling back into Jesse. You wondered what Joel was thinking. If he remember everything, if it meant anything to him.

Jackson was huge. There was food and people and walls. It wasn’t like the QZ. People lived like a family, working together for the better of humanity. It brought tears to your eyes to see. 

You felt overwhelmed as you trailed through the streets of Jackson, still mounted upon Jesse’s horse. Random strangers on the street greeted Joel as he led the way like he was some sort of beloved member of the community. All you could do was force a smile and nod during the random greetings, wondering if they knew who Joel really was.

“That jacket looks real familiar,” Joel spoke, gesturing at the worn coat swallowing your shoulders. It was large and had outlived its life, but you couldn’t let it go. It had been with you during some of the coldest winters, keeping you warm. 

“Looks a lot like the one my daddy gave me before he passed. I went crazy, thinkin’ I misplaced it. All this time, it was just you stealin’ shit that don’t belong to you,” Joel scoffed, but without malice. You stuttered, closing it around your body to cover your chest, a habit stemming from pure nerves.

It had been your jacket for years, your only source of comfort during cruel winters. It belonged to you just as much as it belonged to him. You were the one who had taken care of it all of the time.

Joel chuckled at your reaction, grinning down at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask for it back. I’m happy that you’ve gotten some use outta it.”

It was bewildering, how one sentence he spoke could come across filled with resentment, with ire, and the next be filled with something that felt sort of like relief.

But even back then, even fifteen years ago, you’d never been able to quite understand him. And though his anger was a kindred spirit to yours, Joel was so confusing. 

Once in the stables, Jesse helps you dismount. Before you even swing your leg over the horse, Joel’s handing his reins off to the stable hand and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight. 

Jesse sees your attention follow him, no doubt reading the expression of confusion on your face. “Don’t worry about him,” he says. “Joel can be a bit of an ass sometimes.”

You think that might be the understatement of the decade, but you keep that to yourself. 

“C’mon. Let’s go meet Maria to see where we should place you for housing and then I’ll let you get settled in.”

As Jesse leads you through the streets of Jackson, you can’t help but feel a bit of shock at the way things operate here. There are so many people you can’t keep their faces straight. Children of all ages, people your age, and elders. A rare occurrence these days.

There’s electricity powering lights strewn between the buildings. A carpenter and a grocer and a bar. It feels like something out of a dream.

Jesse leads you into what looks like a cafeteria. There are a handful of tables with hundreds of mismatched chairs around them, and a low chatter that greets you the moment you step through the doors. 

You notice him in a second.

Tommy’s laughing. His hair has grown out long enough that he can tuck the dark blonde strands behind his ear now, curling just slightly at the ends. 

He’s got a couple more freckles and wrinkles around his soft eyes. And seeing Joel was jarring, but it’s Tommy and his boisterous laughter and that wide grin on his face that makes your chest crack wide open. 

You love him, and you’ve always known it. You love them both, but it’s the loss of Tommy’s warmth you’ve felt the deepest since escaping from that cabin. It’s taken you a long time to accept it, but you have—and seeing him brought back a burning feeling that you thought was long gone.

Tommy notices Jesse, waving at him wildly, looking past you as if you were transparent. He didn’t recognize you yet, which wasn’t surprising. You were standing a handful of meters away, and from what it appeared, you seemed to be a ghost from a past life. One that he never anticipated seeing again, with how settled down he appeared to be now.

“Jesse! You have to hear this shit, man! Get over here,” Tommy gestured, a shit-eating smile still filling his face. You noticed the way Jesse looked at you first, evaluating your reaction, which was little to none. You’d grown good at hiding your emotions over the years, a calloused exterior being your own personal form of protection. A shell.

Your brain felt like it was pounding against the walls of your skull when you followed Jesse over to Tommy’s table. You kept your eyes glued down at your feet and prayed, that maybe, he wouldn’t notice you. But, of course…

“Hey, Tommy. I think I found an old friend of yours,” Jesse starts off with, the bastard. Tommy’s soft eyes move over to you, staring blankly for a couple of beats. The noise from the cafeteria droned out as you looked into his eyes, locked on those deep irises that you had dreamt about for years.

The sound of Tommy’s metal chair scraping against the floor pulled you out of your haze. His arms wrapped around you, engulfing your frame - swallowing you in his own body. He was so warm and firm. You hadn’t touched another person for so long, not like this. 

But you still were so uncertain. Your hands wavered, shaking nervously as you considered hugging him back. Things were so complicated, incredibly taboo, and filthy. You shouldn’t want to hug him back. You opt on loosely hugging his waist, too nervous to match the pressure of his embrace.

He pulls back, his large palms coming up to cradle the sides of your face. It reminded you of that night all those years ago when you first kissed him. You could still taste the bottle of Jack on his lips, warm and heavy against your tongue.

Tommy was contemplating kissing you, you had seen the look before. It was all too familiar.

His eyes were heavy, but the look left almost as quickly as it had appeared. He awkwardly shifted back, pulling out of your incredibly loose embrace. Jesus, Tommy was just as conflicted with you. His remorse for what had happened was clear on his face, those heavy puppy dog eyes searching your face desperately, praying that you would forgive him. Forgive Joel.

It was all too much - your head was spinning and your tongue was stuck to the roof of your mouth. Tommy glanced over at the table he had jumped up from, directly at a woman who was sitting next to his seat. Her freckled face was etched with a frown, one that was full of confusion about the situation.

“Christ, you’re alive?” Tommy whispered, wavering away from you. His disbelief wasn’t one that you had expected, nor had Jesse. The young man was still standing beside you, watching the events unfold with wide eyes. 

“I’m not really hungry, Jesse,” you turned and said, needing to get out of there immediately. Something was unraveling deep inside, what that something was, you didn’t know. Your palms felt slick with sweat, your legs unintentionally pulling you back, protecting you from the conversation.

“Please,” Tommy begged, “Let’s talk. Settle in, get used to everything, but don’t leave town without comin’ to talk. And for the love of God, eat .”

You nodded, backing away from Tommy like a scared puppy. The sound of your heart beating filled your brain as you turned and walked away, Jesse hot on your heels. You heard Tommy’s voice speak, “Maria, come on, we gotta go over some things.”

The air is cool against your heated skin, and you greedily swallow the icy air. You press your palm against your sternum, trying to will your heart to slow and your blood to settle in your veins.

“Hey,” Jesse says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder that makes you jump out of your skin.

When you turn to face him, you don’t even remember unsheathing your knife from the holster strapped to your belt. He has his hands held up in surrender, that friendly smile on his face, and guilt begins to trickle down your spine.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You lower the knife quickly, returning it to its rightful place at your hips. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, too. Uhm…instinct, I guess.”

“I get it,” he says, and for some reason, you believe him. There’s such understanding in his voice that it’s hard not to. “Jackson is a lot to adjust to. Doesn’t happen overnight.”

You nod slowly in response. 

“There’s an empty house over by the cemetery. I can show you, and you can rest or look around or…you know, do whatever you need to. There’s hot water, you can shower, and some staples in the pantry if you feel like cooking. I can run to the community hall and get you some new clothes and drop them off if you want some space.”

The words sound foreign in your ears as if he’s speaking a different language. Cooking, showering, hot water …the thought crosses your mind that you’ve somehow died and this is all some kind of strange hallucination. 

But a moment along sounds like bliss, and a shower sounds like heaven, so you find yourself nodding and following him through the streets of Jackson. Jesse tries to make small talk, but you’re not in much of a talking mood and he seems to pick up on it and doesn’t press for much more information.

He tells you there are towels in the linen closet in the hall upstairs and promises to return in less than ten minutes with a basket of clean clothes. “I’ll set them just inside the door,” he said. ”Take what you want. If there’s anything that doesn’t fit, I’ll bring it back to the hall later.”

The house is nice, bigger than any of the places you’ve ever holed up in for a few days, and more secure, too. Upstairs there’s a massive bathroom and before you do anything else, you turn the handle to the hottest setting. The water spits and spudders and is freezing at first, but the second it begins to warm you’re stripping off your clothes and stepping beneath the stream.

And you’re not quite sure why, but the sensation of it brings moisture to your eyes, salty tears mixing with the warm spray from the showerhead. The water that pools at your feet is dark and grimy, ridding you of the dirt that clings to your skin. 

You scrub your skin raw and still don’t feel clean enough. But when the water runs cold, you leave wet footprints on the wood flooring of the stairs and find that Jesse stayed true to his word. 

Just inside the front door is a laundry basket full of clothes; denim and fleece, cotton t-shirts and undergarments, socks, and even a half-decent bra. You settle on jeans and a hoodie that’s just a little too big, but still hold tight to the old coat you’d stolen.

He also left a plate of food, which you assumed was from the cafeteria. Even though you didn’t think you could’ve eaten earlier, not after seeing Tommy, you were suddenly famished. The food was gone in under a minute. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had something fresh, rice, green beans, onions. It was life-altering.

There’s a big bed in the center of one of the bedrooms upstairs, and you tell yourself you’ll rest just for a few seconds. A few minutes. But the moment your head hits the pillow, you know it isn’t true and you don’t have the energy to convince yourself otherwise. 

When you finally wake, the room is dark, and the rays from the rising moon are silhouetting the bedroom in a blue haze. You sigh, relaxing into the bed sheets. It was crazy to reflect on your current circumstances. Just a day ago, you were starving, sleeping on an old rotted mattress with a gun held tightly in your hand. Now, you could hear the laughter and shouts of children from the street outside your window.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you stood up, deciding to leave the house and explore. It would be beneficial to know where everything is, you think. If for nothing else than to know the best escape routes, to become familiar with the routine of the watchers on the walls.

You brush your teeth before heading out, the night air rushing against your face when you step onto the front porch. Even though it’s late in the evening, the streets are still filled with people; families walking back home together, couples holding hands. It almost feels unreal.

Walking past the cemetery, you notice some people crouched at the gravestones, crying. Even when you were somewhere safe, you could never escape the horrors of loss.

It felt like you were floating through the streets of Jackson, an outsider peering in. The closer you got to the center of town, the more people you stumbled upon. Icicle lights were strung across the powerlines and street before you, random strangers greeting you in passing. 

You finally grew tired of the attention, the stares, the forced conversations. You ended up pulling up the hood of your jacket over your head, shielding yourself from gazing eyes. 

A small church was planted near the center of town, and the doors cracked, allowing you to glance in. Though it wasn’t entirely full, many people filled the pews and watched the priest give his sermon. You could pick up a few words from where you were standing, but you didn’t really care to hear. You gave up on a religion a long time ago. 

A couple of meters away was an open space that had a bonfire square in the middle, with a handful of picnic tables spread across the space. The hum of the people talking drew you in, despite not knowing anyone, or so you thought.

“Settlin’ in good?” you heard from behind you, the voice making you jump in surprise. You turned back to see Joel, his dark eyes watching you from a couple of feet away. Those dark eyes still made your palm sweat and your cheeks burn bright. He had always held something in him that made you docile. 

You cleared your throat, subconsciously pulling at the strings of your hoodie. “It’s surreal here. Not like the QZ.”

Joel huffs, nodding in agreement. “Thank God it ain’t.“

There is an awkward pause where you stand shyly in front of Joel, uncertain of what to say next. Making small talk with him was never your forte, because typically he never even wanted to speak with you. Now, here he is, actively trying to pull a conversation out of you. He had changed. 

“You’re not like how I remember,” you say, your lips moving quicker than your brain was able to think. Joel stiffened, rubbing the scruff of his beard.

“Yeah? And how do you remember me?”

It’s a test, one to see how you would describe your relationship with both him and Tommy. A mutual romantic bond? Or something much more sinister, much more taboo? You don’t fall for the trap because you aren’t even sure how you want to interpret everything. Not entirely.

“Quieter. Less gray hairs too,” you said, not expecting the warm sound of Joel’s laughter to hit your ears. He smiled down at you, the grin boyish and full of hidden memories. It made you ache for something you never even had. 

“It’s been a long time. When you left…” Joel trailed off, his expression morphing into a dark cloud. You knew that leaving would hurt both of the brothers, and it felt shameful to admit that sometimes you regretted your escape. Yes, you were free, but what difference did it make? You had lost companionship. Love?

“We both hated to see you leave, but we understood.” Joel was no longer looking you in the eye but was instead staring down at his feet. “What happened there? It wasn’t right, the things we did with you. I can be the first to admit. It was the actions of two desperate, lonely men. But I’m not here to make excuses.”

His eyes moved back to look at your face, to gauge your reaction. 

“I’m sorry. Tommy sure as hell is, he beat himself to death over all of it. You don’t have to forgive me or forgive either of us. But, please, just hear him out. He wants you to come over to dinner tomorrow so you can meet everyone. Then maybe we could all talk?”

You stepped back, crossing your arms and shaking your head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you tried to explain. The idea of being trapped in a house with people you didn’t know didn’t exactly sound appealing. Joel had apologized for both him and Tommy, truthfully, there wasn’t much of a point to even go now. What more was there to talk about?

“Joel!” shouted a voice from where the bonfire was taking place. Both you and Joel turned to watch a young girl run over to where you were standing. When she arrives you’re able to get a good look at her - pretty blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose that reminds you of the constellations.

For a moment you considered that maybe he had a kid. She looked no older than sixteen - it could be possible. But she didn’t look like Joel, much too soft in the cheeks. Joel had strong features while this girl was the epitome of a cherub, her rounded lips turned up into a smile as she grinned at you.

“Joel. Is it alright if I spend the night at Cat’s? I don’t have garden duty until the afternoon so I’d have plenty of time to get back,” she explained. Well, if she wasn’t Joel’s daughter then she was certainly Joel’s something. The sick thought crossed your mind that maybe something was wrong here, but the moment Joel reached over to tousle her hair, you knew that you were wrong.

“Of course not, El. Be back by dinner tomorrow,” he said, shooting her away, back towards the crowd at the fire. She gave you a farewell wave, one that you returned, as she ran off to find her friend.

Your face was warm when you thought about how you had considered that Joel might’ve been in a relationship with her. Joel noticed your embarrassment, watched the way you huffed into your palm, and shook your head.

“What?” Joel questioned, the distant fire casting a fire over his face. It reminded you of the cabin, of the fireplace. Of his warmth.

“You kidnap her too?”

The small grin that he had on his face disappeared in an instant, replaced with rage and disappointment.

“Of course not,” Joel sputtered, scoffing at the accusation. “I would’ve never- I mean, she is just a child,” he hissed.

“And I wasn’t?” you whispered back just as angrily, pulling your hood off of your head. You wanted him to look at you, to see you. 

“I told you, I’m sorry. I’ve had fifteen years to reflect and I can admit that I was,” Joel pauses before snarling, ��a goddamn monster back then. But, Ellie, she’s like a daughter to me. She gave me a purpose. With her, things were different,” he sighed, shaking his head in frustration. 

Tears were burning the back of your eyes, but you forced yourself to keep it together. You weren’t going to show Joel that he had hurt you. That you had missed him. 

“And why wasn’t it different with me?” you questioned, a genuine curiosity behind the words. 

Joel only stood, looking down at you with his lips pressed into a frown. This girl, Ellie, had broken Joel, but you hadn’t. What was so special about her that she was able to receive his empathy?

The answer to that question was easy. You knew that deep down, it was never about you. It was about Sarah. 

You hated that you weren’t able to watch him grow and change, to help him change. He never gave you the chance. 

“I’m going to go,” you said, turning to leave both Joel and the conversation behind. Before you could walk off the sidewalk, you felt a familiar hand wrapped around your arm. A heat rose in your chest and settled in between your thighs just by being touched by Joel. 

His dark eyes softened as he took you in, his gaze tracing the lines of your face, your body, your palms. His large hands dwarfed yours when he pulled you towards him, wrapping you in a hug. It was different from Tommy’s, one that was full of surprise and longing.

Joel’s was tender and soft, his large palms moving in small, gentle circles as if he was afraid he’d break you. 

“Is this okay?” Joel questioned, one that took you by surprise. He had changed, that’s for sure. You nodded, melting into his touch, practically cemented between the pressure of his arms. It had been so long since you had been touched, focused purely on survival. It felt good, to feel wanted.

“When you left we searched for you,” he spoke into your hair. “With the raiders and all, we thought that maybe more had come and taken you. Took us a little while to realize that wasn’t the case. We understood why you left, why you felt like you had to leave, but… fuck .”

He had pulled back now, unable to meet your eyes. “I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to be by your side until it was too late. I fucked up. We both did. But it was me who treated you badly, who excused it. So, I’m sorry.”

It was Joel’s third and final apology of the night. You had decided that you did forgive him, for all of it. There was no point in wallowing in anger forever. You had to let it go.

“I know,” you whispered, reaching to hold his palm in your hand. He wasn’t a bad man. He had never been, and it hits you only now that maybe you’ve always known from the very first moment that he’s not bad …he’s just like you. 

Quick to anger, quicker to self-preservation. Neither of you has ever seen the best in others before the bad, your psyche molded always to expect the worst, tragedy burned in like a bad memory.

“I know,” you say again. “And I forgive you.”

His shoulders deflate as if setting down something so heavy he’d become accustomed to the weight of it after all these years. He gives you this smile, but it’s sort of sad and the sight of it quietly breaks your heart. 

But Joel regains his composure quickly, casting his eyes away from you and clearing emotion from his throat. Your hand still sits in his, a firm, warm hold on you, full of surety, devoid of hesitation. You try not to think about how much it feels like home. 

“So, would you think about dinner then?”

You don’t know these people. You know Joel and Tommy but everyone else remains a mystery, and though nothing about Jackson raises any immediate red flags, there’s still a nagging warning that rings in the back of your mind. Don’t get close. This is only temporary. You don’t belong here. Yet still, you find yourself nodding, pleased with the look of further satisfaction that finds its way onto Joel’s face. “Okay. Dinner.”

When he releases your hand, it feels like a loss all over again. You swallow it down, bury it deep, pretend it’s not there like you’ve always done. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he says. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. Been a long day.”

You nod and force the words out of your mouth even though all you want is to beg him to stay, to wrap his big hand back around yours and pull you into his side. “Goodnight, Joel.”

Even though it makes you feel a little pathetic, you watch him walk away. But he’s turning back to face you, slowly walking backward as he quickly says, “You’re free to take any leftovers, by the way. No, uh…no thievery needed.”

It makes you laugh, the joy of the tender moment seeping deep between your bones. “Good to know,” you say. “I’ll keep it in mind, but don’t be surprised if I pocket a silver spoon or two.”

You hardly sleep the entire night. All you can think about it the weight of his calloused palm, of the timbre of his voice as he told you they looked for you.

No one’s ever looked for you before.

Just before sunrise, you allow yourself a moment to regret running. It’s the first time in all your life that you think maybe flight was the wrong response. 

Tommy knocks on your door early. He’s got on a pair of Levi’s and a black and red flannel, and there’s a long-barrel rifle slung over his shoulder with a scope attached to it. “Morning, sweetheart,” he says. The familiar sobriquet sends a warmth slithering down your spine. “Thought we could go out today. Just the two of us. That sound okay?”

Before you have the chance to think better of it, you're stepping outside and closing the door behind you. Tommy chuckles softly at your lack of hesitation and throws an affectionate arm around your shoulders. You can’t resist leaning into him, can’t think of another place you’ve ever felt safer. 

But then you think of that day so long ago, with Joel wrapped around you, his strong arms encircling your waist, and you think tucked into Tommy’s side might be the second safest place in the world.

The streets of Jackson are relatively empty compared to yesterday. The sun is up, casting orange shadows over the puddles of melting snow, and the lack of prying eyes makes you curious. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s Sunday,” he says simply. “For one day of the week, no one’s got any jobs to do.” 

Truthfully, the concept of a weekday or a weekend has been foreign to you for so long you’d nearly forgotten its existence. “Oh,” is all you can rebuttal. And then a few moments later, “Where are we going?”

“Hunting trip,” Tommy explains. “Just like old times. Joel says you still got my skinnin’ knife.”

The words hold some accusation, making you flush, but there’s a proud smile on his face and you know he’s not angry for your stealing. You can feel the weight of it at your hip, and pull it from the sheath attached to your leather belt. Slowly, you turn it in your hand, polished silver glinting. 

“Figured you’d taken it when I couldn’t find it. Looked everywhere for that thing. Looked everywhere for you, too. But…I just hoped it kept you safe. Wherever you were, I kinda liked the thought of, ya know…just being able to protect you somehow. I’m glad you had it.”

His confession cracks your chest wide open and leaves you bleeding. You think of all the times his knife had done just that; protected you, fed you, saved you.

“S’alright,” he says. “Go on an’ keep it. S’yours now, sweetheart.” 

You slide the blade back into its home on your hip and follow Tommy as he feeds and speaks softly to an all-black horse in the stables. He saddles it quickly and with precision before pulling you up onto the horse behind him.

Instinctually, you wrap your arms tight around his waist and rest your cheek against his spine, inhaling the familiar but long-forgotten scent of him. The watchers on the walls let the two of you pass with only a nod to Tommy, and you ride slowly through the wet grass until you come to a clearing in the woods.

There’s a tree blind, hidden at the edge of the brush. Tommy ties the horse’s reins to the post and he lets you climb up the ladder first. 

Once you’re both safely inside, the horse grazing on the grass below, Tommy sits the end of his rifle on the edge of the window before settling into one of the rickety wooden chairs that have been hauled into the blind. 

You take the one beside him. Even though you know a big part of hunting is the silence, a million questions press against the back of your teeth. After a few minutes pass by, you can take the pressure no longer and ask, “Who’s Maria?”

A smile climbs onto his face. Unsure of what to expect, it surprises you as he answers simply, saying, “My wife.”

“ Wife ?” It raises a plethora of new questions. How long have they known each other? Did Tommy ever tell Maria about their time in the cabin? Did the two of them build Jackson together? Why does his answer sting?

He seems to sense the confusion and reaches across the open space to squeeze your hand in his. “After you left. Jesus, I think both Joel and I had a moment of realization. I missed you like hell, the feelin’ of you, the warmth. To think that you had gone back out there, with raiders and God knows what else, because of me and Joel? Christ.”

Tommy sighs, pausing before staring out into the wooded distance. You could see how much he had on his mind, an unbearable weight that he had been holding for years. It was wearing him down, weakening his bones. 

“I know Joel talked to you, but I really can’t explain to you how sorry I am,” Tommy began. You glanced down at his palm which was still holding your own, large and heavy against your skin. 

“There’s no excusin’ it. You were so young, and innocent. Something that we hadn’t been around for so long. We had seen horrible things, had done awful things. We took advantage of you. I took advantage of you.” He turned to look at you, a deep sincerity held in his eyes. “Please, forgive me. I don't know how I’d be able to keep livin’ with myself if you don’t.”

There wasn’t anything to forgive. You had wanted everything that happened, at the end of the day. You had missed both him and Joel. 

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me for stealing from you,” you said in an attempt to break the ice. You knew it worked from the way Tommy’s face broke out into a toothy grin. 

“You’re forgiven.”

Tommy explained to you what had happened after you ran away from the cabin. How he had gone back to the Boston QZ in search of you, eventually abandoning Joel there to join the Fireflies. From there he had ditched the Fireflies, deciding that their methods were too extreme, and then, he met Maria. She had saved him, washed him of all of his sins, and gave him a purpose again. 

“She’s a good woman. An amazing woman, Jackson wouldn’t even exist without her,” he said, but it felt like he was convincing himself and not you. Tommy looked over at you, a dark lust behind his eyes that you hadn’t seen since the last night you shared in that faraway cabin. 

“She is,” he breathed. “But… sometimes I think about how different things would’ve been if I made better choices back then. I’m happy here in Jackson, beyond happy, but-“

You closed the distance quickly, knocking your wooden chair into his own. His lips were warm and soft, just like you had remembered them. It was easy kissing Tommy, like second nature. He hummed into your mouth and didn’t push you away. There was no huge rush of passion behind it, but something much more important. Catharsis. A conclusion.

“For closure,” you whispered into his lips. Tommy nodded, kissing you once more before leaning back in his seat, his hand still holding yours.

“For closure.”

On the way back, Tommy fills you in on Joel’s relationship with Ellie. They met in the QZ, where he agreed to take her across the country to Salt Lake City. When you ask why, Tommy insists it isn’t important, that if it was he would tell you. “It’s Ellie’s secret to tell, anyway,” he says.

You let it go, far more interested in something else entirely. Your arms are wrapped around his waist on the back of the horse and you’re breathing a little easier now as you ask, “Does she make you happy? Maria?”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Or rather contemplation, perhaps. But then he nods slowly and says, “Yeah. Yeah, she does.”

You’re glad to hear it. Truthfully. Even with all that’s transpired, you’re thankful Tommy was able to find this slice of bliss in the hellish affairs of the world. 

“Does she know? About what happened?” you asked shyly. Tommy sighed, nodding.

“She knew bits and pieces but not at all of it. After Joel and Jesse found you, I told her everything. It wasn’t fair for her not to know.”

You would’ve guessed that he told her. He seemed to really love her, to trust her. If Joel even trusted her, then that showed the strength in the relationship. It didn’t bother you that she knew. It was for the best.

“And…Joel? Do you think he’s happy?”

This time it’s definitely hesitation. Tommy’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. He lets out a long breath, misting in the cool air. “He hasn’t been the same since…”

“Since Sarah, right?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes, but…”

There’s something he’s holding onto, and you’re not sure if it’s for your sake or for Joel’s. Either way, this is the secret you decide you need to uncover. “Tell me.”

“When you left…I mean, I know I already said it was hard but it was different for Joel. I had the Fireflies and then I had Maria and Jackson, all things that filled the emptiness but Joel…I don’t know. S’like he never came back from it. From losin’ you.”

You can see Jackson in the distance now. A silhouette of a town, of a home. Your stomach turns, thinking that all this time you’ve both been suffering from the same plight and the cure has simply been forgiveness. 

But can you live with entirely forgiving Joel? Completely? He advocated for your death, held you hostage, and shot you in cold blood. You can acknowledge and accept the fact that he’s changed, that you all have, that you’ve grown and matured and established a firm line between what’s right and what’s wrong, something the three of you once lacked.

You’ve finally found closure enough to move on from this, but if you let go of your anger, let it dissolve into nothing, what would be left of what you feel for him but longing?

If you let it all go…there would be nothing left inside you for Joel Miller but love, and you’re fairly certain that that would be even more difficult to navigate than your anger. 

Once back in Jackson with nothing to show for your hunting trip but ease in your shoulders, Tommy secures the horse back into the stables and offers to walk you home. You laugh and joke the whole way and it feels natural, just like old times but perhaps even better now that you’re here of your own volition. 

Once in front of your house, Tommy takes your hand in his and kisses your palm. “I’ll always care for you,” he whispers, dancing around a word far more intense. Once again, you’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or for his, or if it’s for Joel’s.

You lift his hand to your face and lean into his caress, feeling the warmth on your cheek, the roughness of his skin brought on by age and hard labor. “Me too,” you admit. And then quieter, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I know it was…”

Tommy shakes his head. “No, sweetheart—don’t you ever apologize for that.” He used his free hand to thread his fingers through your hair, not dissimilar to the way you’d first touched him all those years ago. “You needed it. I needed it.” 

He wraps his arms around you and you lean in close, soaking up his warmth, his safety.

You share so much in one embrace—longing, lust, regret, forgiveness. And when he pulls away, it all fades into the ether, leaving nothing behind but this deeply rooted fondness for him, a desire for him to be happy above all else. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, come and find me. We live next to the daycare. Maria said to be there after nightfall tonight,” Tommy spoke, knocking his shoulder across your own playfully. “I hope you’re ready for a home-cooked meal. How long has it been?”

You stand, truly considering his question. Eating in the QZ wasn’t exactly pleasant. Typical meals consisted of stale bread and watered-down soup. You couldn’t even remember your last fresh meal.

“Too long,” you sighed. Tommy smirked, his warm smile making the skin of your cheeks burn.

“Soon enough. See you tonight.”

The day goes by quickly. You fill the empty space with exploration, walking through the greenhouses, around the buildings, and through the one currently being constructed in the northwest corner within the walls.

The people begin to emerge a little after midday, socializing with one another, smiles on their faces and ease in their shoulders. You see Jesse at one point while you’re walking the perimeter, checking for weak spots, and he waves at you and it feels so strangely normal that it startles you. 

When the sun begins to set behind the heavy clouds, you find the house beside the daycare and stand a few feet away. You can see through the open windows that you’re likely the last to arrive—and for a second, you consider turning back and running as far away as you can. 

Because beneath the yellow light, they all look so happy. Maria, Ellie, and someone else you can’t put a name to, all work together setting the table, six place settings with mismatched cutlery.

Joel and Tommy can be seen in the kitchen, sharing a few concerned looks between warm smiles, once in a while knocking the neck of their glass bottles together. They’re all at home here and have all curated a routine, a familiarity. 

And you know without a shadow of a doubt that if you walk in there, you’re going to disturb it. You’re going to break the tranquility they’ve worked towards, you’re going to be the odd one out, the sore thumb in their causal, familiar cacophony. No matter what, you’re not going to belong. 

The only hope you have is trudging through the unfamiliarity until it becomes familiar, hoping to integrate yourself into their already established lives. 

But after all you’ve done since leaving that cabin, after all the blood on your hands, is that the sort of thing you’ve earned?

It’s not. You know it. You turn to leave.

The front door swings open, yellow lighting silhouetting his familiar frame.

He must see the terror in your eyes, must see the flight response kicking in because he’s off the porch in a second and taking your hand in his. 

You’re shaking your head and your breath feels stuck in your throat, amassing into a stone of instinct that sits heavy on your chest. 

“Tell me,” is all Joel says.

The words come spilling out, mechanical, one after another. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve this. I don’t belong here. I’ve killed people. I’ve lied and stolen and—”

He takes your face in his strong grip and forces you to look at him, the sight of adoration in his eyes like a balm to your heart. “It doesn’t matter if we deserve it,” he says. “Do you want it?”

More than anything.

Tommy’s voice cuts through the intensity between you and Joel. “Dinner’s ready,” he says. “Come eat, sweetheart.”

You do. Maria’s made a whole platter; roast and vegetables and some sort of broth soup with rosemary. There’s red wine and whiskey and sweet tea. Joel sits beside you at the table. Ellie sits across from you, beside her girlfriend who you learn is named Dina.

They’re all incredibly nice, asking you questions about your life before Jackson, never pressing too much, sensing when a topic is brought up that you don’t particularly want to recall and quickly changing the conversation.

The chemistry flows far easier than you’d imagined it would. You find you even like Maria, and you especially like that fond look in her every time she glances over at Tommy. 

The food is delicious and you’re bringing a forkful of roast to your mouth when Dina asks, “So, how did you meet Joel and Tommy?”

The table goes quiet then, and Dina and Ellie share a confused glance. You chew slowly, hoping someone else will answer the question or, better yet, ask something else entirely. 

But then Ellie jokingly says, “What? Did guys kidnap her or something?”

You nearly choke, Tommy lets out a long breath, and Joel is stone still apart from the feathering of his jaw. Even Maria looks uncomfortable. 

Ellie sees the unsaid words and quietly mutters, “Oh shit.” She turns to Joel then, eyes narrowed into slits. “You kidnapped her?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you supply. “Not exactly. I stole from them first. Back when food was a lot more scarce.”

“So you held her captive,” Ellie corrects, unrelenting.

“A story for another day, maybe?” Maria suggests. “How’s the soup, El?”

You can tell she’ll circle back to the conversation the moment she can, but for now, Ellie lets it rest. And you’re thankful for it, because you’re not sure how to explain a moment of your time spent in that cabin even to yourself, let alone someone else.  

After dinner, you help Maria clean while the brothers drink beer out on the back porch and watch Ellie play guitar. From the kitchen you can see Dina stretched across the wooden floor, propped up against the rails of the porch. The sound of Ellie missing a couple of strings makes Maria hum in amusement. 

“Joel’s been teaching her for a couple of weeks now. She picks up quickly,” Maria informs you, taking a now cleaned dish from your hand to dry it. It didn’t feel weird, being around her, despite the fact that you had kissed her husband just a couple of hours ago. 

“Yeah. She seems like a good kid.”

Maria places the plate into the cabinet before turning to you. She leans against the counter, taking a moment to look you over. 

“You weren’t how I imagined you when Tommy told me about everything.”

Her words didn’t feel rude or passive-aggressive. They were more so honest, and revealing. 

“How did you imagine me?” you asked, continuing to wash the dirty dishes in the sink. Focusing on the soapy suds melting off the plate the more you scrubbed it distracted you from the conversation. You knew that Maria was trying to understand you, but it made you feel anxious either way.

Maria sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not so quiet. Fiery, like Ellie. I suppose you are, deep down, especially if both the Miller brothers like you.”

You used to have more of a spark inside of you, but over time, it had slowly fizzled out. You had killed too many people, done too many awful things. After your father was murdered, you lost the majority of the fire that was meant to burn in your chest. You learned how to be a drifter and not get attached, because getting attached meant losing them someday.

The only exception were the brothers who you could hear laughing loudly from the back porch. Even after all this time, after leaving them, they had found a place to call home where they could love freely. 

“They both care a lot about you. You had Joel pacing back and forth, wondering if you’d actually show up.”

A warm blush washed across your face and didn’t stop until it reached the bottom of your spine. Joel was waiting for you? How was it that he had shut you off, practically hated you all those years ago, but now, suddenly was worried about you? What had changed?

As if she could read your mind, Maria spoke. “Ellie helped him open up a lot. According to Tommy, she’s got that same spitfire energy as Sarah. Maybe back then, it wasn’t the right time. Joel was too far gone. But now, it could be different. You could take advantage of his weaknesses this go around if you think it would make you happy.”

You understood why Tommy loved Maria. She had created this town, a haven, and even cares about people she doesn’t know. She allowed her husband’s people to be her own.

“Maybe,” you agreed, focusing your attention back on washing the dishes. Maria didn’t pry and instead moved back into the pattern of taking clean dishes from your hands. 

Once you finished, you followed Maria onto the back porch, trailing through the sliding doors. Ellie and Dina were so focused on singing a Foo Fighters song that you hadn’t heard for years (that you were sure Joel introduced them to) that they didn’t notice your approach. Tommy and Joel did, Tommy smiling at Maria before extending his arms. She walked to where he was sitting and joined him, sitting on the edge of his lap. 

You were glad that you didn’t feel anything but happiness to watch the intimacy of the couple.

Joel’s eyes were watching you, dark and full of thoughts you wished you could understand. You wondered how he would react if you closed the space and sat on his lap - not that you had nearly enough courage.

“I think I’m gonna get ready to head home. I gotta organize the pantry in the morning,” you said, glancing over at the two girls who had moved on to singing some song you didn’t recognize.

All three of the Millers looked disappointed in your confession. “At least let me walk you back,” Joel begged, but you shook your head.

“No, stay. Don’t wanna miss out on this,” you said, glancing back over at Ellie and Dina singing. 

There was something like hurt that flashed across his face, but it didn’t linger long. 

“Feel free to come back any time,” Maria said.

“For anything,” Tommy adds. 

Joel says nothing, even though you linger there on the porch for several seconds, secretly hoping he would. But you nod silently, thank them for all their hospitality, and compliment Maria on the food, before parting ways to the soft sound of Ellie’s strumming on the guitar. 

For several days, you find yourself grappling with a decision. Should you stay, or should you do what feels most natural and flee? 

Fleeing would be what you’re used to. A rehearsed, calculated event. Premeditated. You’d been thinking about it from the moment you set foot in this place. Take a backpack full of supplies; food, medicine, water. You’d probably even get away with taking a horse and a couple of guns from the armory.

You’d do it first thing before the sun rises on a Sunday morning when the whole of Jackson is sleeping apart from the watchers on the walls. You wouldn’t say goodbye because you know Joel and Tommy both would convince you to stay. 

Instead, you’d leave a note on the table in your kitchen. One Saturday night you even sit there with a pen in your hand, but all you can manage to scribble down are the words I’m sorry. 

You trash it before sunrise. And that morning, Ellie stopped by to ask if you’d help her tend to the greenhouse. “It’s an eight-hour shift,” she explained. “Four with an extra set of hands. They have that dance going on tonight, down at the community hall. Dina really wants to go.”

Of course, you agree. And as the hours tick by, you understand Joel’s attachment to her. Ellie is probably the funniest kid you’ve ever met. Intuitive too, and so smart it’s jarring. You like her, mostly because she reminds you a little of yourself when you were her age. 

She talks briefly about her journey with Joel to Salt Lake City. Says he started out as this gruff, overbearing man, but towards the end, he was the only source of comfort remaining in her grasp. She says Joel saved her life but then gets really quiet for a while afterward. 

You don’t pry. The silence is comfortable, the dirt between the creases of your palms and beneath your fingernails is warm, and you realize that fleeing is going to hurt an awful lot more than you thought. 

After your shift in the greenhouse with Ellie, you begin to consider staying. Jackson is a good place, a safe place. One without the tyrannical rules of a standard QZ.

The following weekend, a fight breaks out between two men at the Tipsy Bison. One is drunk and sloppy and he has a knife strapped to his belt. You watch from a far distance as the drunken man stabs his opposition between the ribs, blood pooling in the mud beneath his feet. 

You don’t see Joel right away, too focused on the commotion that breaks out over the event, but the moment he steps in he’s hard to miss. He has that strong, domineering energy about him. He breaks up the fight in a second and has the man with the knife unclenching his fist, silver glinting in the pool of blood as the weapon drops to the ground.

Maria and Tommy arrive a short moment later and the man with the stab wound gets carted off to the infirmary. Joel towers over the man with blood on his hands but says not a single word.

You’re not sure why, and you’re too exhausted to attempt unpacking it, but the way he just… controls the situation so easily has your thighs pressing together.

Joel and Tommy take the man someplace, but you don't stay around long enough to find out where. You half expect them to make some scene of it; whippings in the center of the town, a public execution as a display of power. You’ve seen such things before in the QZs you’ve drifted through. 

But nothing like that happens, and all anyone can talk about is Rick’s miraculous recovery and what they plan to bring to him in the infirmary. 

You ask Jesse what happened to the drunken man who stabbed him, wondering if they killed him someplace away from prying eyes. 

Jesse laughs and shakes his head. “No, we didn’t kill him. He was exiled.”

You’re not sure why it surprises you, but it does. 

The next time you see Joel, he’s in the stables. The first taste of summer has presented itself, spring slowly giving way, the earth thawing further each day. He’s wearing a navy t-shirt that stretches tight across his biceps and a good-fitting pair of blue jeans, and you watch from a safe, non-conversational distance as he moves haybales from one end of the stables to another, making room for the new ones loaded into the back of Tommy’s truck. 

A light sheen of sweat coats his sun-kissed skin, and it makes your mouth water. All you can think about is that first time with him, how he’d gripped your hips with calloused fingertips, how he’d kissed your lips until they were swollen, how he’d pressed himself between your spread thighs.

You run home so fast you’re out of breath when you close the door, and the moment you make it up the stairs and to your room, you're slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your jeans to alleviate the ache that has settled and made a home between you legs. 

Telling yourself it was a fluke, you don’t think of it again. In fact, you try very hard not to think about that day in the cabin, you try not to think about the way he looked at you before leaving you and Tommy in the bed on that last day, you try not to think about the way his muscles flexed in the stables. 

You fill your time with chores. The greenhouse, watch, patrol, shifts at the Tipsy Bison. Anything that keeps your mind from Joel you greet with ready and willing hands.

But it happens again. Of fucking course it does.

It’s raining hard and has been for several days. The western wall begins to flood, and it’s an all-hands-on-deck situation, moving sandbags from one end of Jackson to the other. Everyone is running around, moving as fast as they can, piling them into the back of one person’s truck and then someone else’s the moment one pulls away. 

Maria woke you up in the middle of the night with a yellow raincoat in her hands, and of course, you didn’t waste a moment before you put on your sneakers and ran out the door with her. 

She stations you at the western wall with a handful of others, unloading the sandbags and stacking them as high as possible to detour the pooling water.

Joel stands two feet away from you, yelling orders over the sound of the rain, commanding the situation in that way of his. You’re shivering, even with your raincoat, and as Joel’s hand brushes yours when he helps you lift a sandbag onto the pile, it sends an electric jolt down your spine. “Jesus,” he huffs. “Here. Take off your jacket real quick.”

You do, in time with him as he removes his canvas coat, soaked through with water. He pulls his flannel off and hands it to you, and normally you would argue he needs it more considering your dry t-shirt, except you’re freezing.

The soft fabric is warm and it’s a little too big but it’s the most comfortable thing you’ve ever worn. It smells like him, like pine and rain and Joel. For a moment you consider not returning it back to him and adding it to your collection of clothes you’ve taken from him. But for now, you relish in its heat, in its softness. 

He goes right back to instructing others after shrugging his coat back on, as if the act of kindness was nothing, as if he’d give just anyone the shirt off his back. And maybe he would, but you’ve never stuck around long enough to find out. 

It’s still dark when you finish, sunrise still a while away. Maria and Tommy thank everyone for their help and send you home, telling everyone to try and get some extra sleep, that shifts will start an hour later than normal. 

You do as she says, noting the way the muscles in your back ache from strain but finding it strangely satisfying, feeling less like you’d lost sleep and more like you’d protected something that was worth protecting. 

Joel’s flannel remains on as you climb back into bed. And though you’re exhausted, all you can think about enveloped in his scent is how he would feel beside you, on top of you, between your legs. Heavy and warm, strong and so incredibly safe.

It doesn’t even feel like there’s a choice when you wiggle your fingers beneath the elastic of your panties. And even though it only takes a matter of minutes to make yourself reach the pinnacle of bliss, it feels unsatisfying. Like it’s not enough, like it’ll never be enough.

You still wear Joel’s flannel while on patrol with Jesse later in the day. You vow to return it, promising yourself this is your chance to change. To be a better person, to reinvent yourself here in Jackson, to stop running, to stop thieving. 

But you don’t return it. Several days go by and you practically live in the goddamn thing.

You lost count of how many times you squirmed against your pillow with the flannel pressed against your lips, imagining that Joel was there. 

“Just like that, baby girl,” Joel would say gruffly, his strong palms pressed against your thighs to make your hips rock. “Missed listenin’ to those little moans.”

If you squeezed your eyes closed just enough, you could feel him on you, guiding you. You prayed that he still thought about you, but you were scared to know what it meant if he did. It would mean that Joel reciprocated your lust, your feelings.

One evening you walked past Joel’s house after a long, tiring day of helping create concrete for the expansion of the South wall. The summer project was to create space for new houses. Jackson was growing day by day, getting stronger. 

You stopped outside the concrete steps, looking at the path to the front door. Would you have the courage to walk up that intimidating trail and knock on Joel’s front door? Would you have the courage to ask him to kiss you, to show you how much he missed you?

Your question was answered once Joel’s front door opened, and a dark-haired woman stepped out. She was turned back, telling Joel something that you couldn’t quite make out. The steps of your sneakers crunched across the gravel of the road, your feet carrying you as far away from Joel’s house as possible. 

One last glance back allowed you to witness the faraway silhouette of Joel passing something over to the woman, something that you were much too far away to see. You had done something stupid again - assumed that Joel was single. You weren’t trying to jump to conclusions but Tommy was married after all. It would make sense that Joel had found someone too, someone to settle down and raise Ellie with. 

The happiness that you felt seeing Tommy and Maria together was not what you felt when watching Joel with another woman. A big, ugly, green monster bubbled inside of you and threatened to crawl out of your throat. 

You hated this feeling. You hated it so much that you’d ended up going to Joel’s house later that, shortly after his bedroom light had turned off. The streets were completely empty except for the night shift patrollers walking towards their posts, the day saying its last goodbyes in the same way you meant to. A basket with Joel’s flannel and his original jacket from fifteen years ago was left on his porch. They were rejected and discarded, like how you felt. 

The basket mocked you when you walked away from his porch, a visceral reminder of what you were actually returning. Your devotion. 

It was impossible to sleep that night, too many rampant thoughts running wildly through your head. You stayed up the remainder of the night, a scratchy wool blanket tucked beneath your chin as you sat on the couch.

The moonlight streamed in through your living room window, painting colorful silvers and purples across the peeling walls. It was eerily peaceful to watch the earth sleep.

A stark opposite to the peaceful moonlight was the sudden rough knocks banging against your front door. You couldn’t help the way you jumped up, your bloodshot eyes glancing over to watch the wooden frame shake with each knock. 

You move over the back of your couch to glance out the front window to see who is pounding at your door. The top of your head peeks over the blanket, your eyes straining to see. It’s Joel, of course, it’s Joel, and seeing him with that frantic look in his eye has your heart in your throat.

When you open the door to ask what he wants, you see both his flannel and his coat clutched in a knuckle-white grip. “Is this your way of saying goodbye?” 

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” You open your mouth to speak but he raises his free hand and stops you. “An’ don’t lie to my face, don’t…don’t look at me and tell me you’re staying just to disappear in the middle of the night.” There’s a kind of aggression in his voice you’ve never heard before, even when he shot you. “You’re leaving.”

It’s not a question this time. And you know he’s reliving it, remembering every moment in that cabin, the same way you’ve been since setting foot in Jackson.

The urge to comfort him rises in you, to promise to stay, but you can’t. Not when all you can see is that dark-haired woman on his doorstep. So, you swallow thickly and cast your eyes away, staring at the clothes you’d return instead. “It doesn't matter. Keep them, Joel.”

“It does matter,” he insists. “How can you say that?” He pushes into your house, this desolate place that suddenly comes to life with him in it. “After everything we’ve done, after everything we’ve seen… it matters. This place matters. You —”

Your breath catches at his near confession. It’s the first you’ve heard it from anyone, and the young girl you were fifteen years ago silently begs for him to finish it. She begs to be seen, cared for, and loved. 

But you’ve spent so long shoving her into a box in your heart that it’s second nature when you do it this time. Joel shakes his head. He begins to speak, stops, and tries again. “I…you…”

“What, Joel?”

He runs an exasperated hand down his face. Whatever it is he’s trying to say is bothering him, an irritation dug in deep like a tick. “Don’t…”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s none of your business, yet you still find yourself crossing your arms over your chest and saying, “Should you even be here right now? Isn’t there someone else you should be giving the pleasure of your company to?”

Confusion sinks in quickly. “What are you talking about?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, so I can’t lie to you but it’s fine if you lie to me? Typical, Joel. You’ve always been a hypocrite.”

"Hypocrite? What are you talking about? I’m here, trying to convince you to stay in Jackson because it’s safe. Even if you want nothing to do with me, if you want me to…to stay far away, that’s fine. But this place needs people like us and we need it.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel—I saw her. Don’t fucking play dumb.”

“Saw who? ”

You throw your hands up, anger rising to the surface of your skin. “I don’t know! And I don’t want to know! She was leaving your house with a really big smile yesterday so I guess I should say congrats, right? To you and Tommy both, for finding whatever it was you were looking for in me fifteen years ago.”

Joel shakes his head. “No, no—you’ve got this all wrong. It’s not like that.”

“Right,” you say indignantly. “Because that’s believable.”

He closes the space between you and wraps his hand around your elbow, holding tight enough to bruise. Joel stares at you with his eyes filled with intensity, so much of it that you actually start to believe him when he says so quietly, “There’s been no one. No one since you.”

“Oh, so it’s just the start I interrupted then? My bad, Joel, should I apologize?”

“Will you stop?” His jaw ticks, and you can see his irritation as it rises, a near palpable thing. His neck flushes, and his eyes narrow. “She’s Dina’s mom. She came over to meet me formally since Ellie’s been staying over there so often. She doesn’t mean anything. Not like…”

“Like what, Joel?”

“Not like you,” he finally says. It feels like a breath of fresh air, and you think he must feel that way, too. Because his grip on your elbow loosens, his shoulders drop, and his eyes soften instantly. “You…you mean something. To me. An’ I don’t…I want you to stay. I’m…I’m askin’ you to stay. Please.”

In all your life, in all the places you’ve passed through…not once has anyone ever asked you to stay. Not once has anyone seen you like this, seen and known you well enough to know when you’re tempted and have enough time to deter your decision. 

Well, until now. Until Joel. 

“Don’t do that,” you say, shaking your head, trying to clear the moisture that pools in the corner of your eyes. 

He takes your face in his hands, calloused palms rough and warm against the tender skin of your jaw. “Stay,” he says. And again, softer this time, a plea. “ Stay.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t give me false hope.”

Joel presses his forehead to yours. “I mean it,” he promises, and you want so badly to believe it, so you do. “Do you have any idea how long I looked for you? And even when I stopped lookin’ I saw you everywhere. Saw you in everything. That first winter without you…Christ, couldn’t think about anythin’ else.”

All you manage to say is his name like an escaped breath. Your skin prickles at his closeness, and you’ve never been good at resisting your impulses so you don’t even try to keep yourself from pressing your lips to his. 

His hands slide into your hair, pulling you in closer, his tongue running across your bottom lip. You grant him access in the form of a moan that he echoes the moment he tastes the inside of your mouth. 

You forget everything. Everything. All you know is the way this feels, and you suddenly think that maybe all this time you weren’t running from anything. Maybe you’ve been running to him. 

“It’s always been you,” he says against your lips. His hands trail down your spine, gently caressing your soft curves.

The pad of his thumb brushes against the bare expanse of your spine where the smallest bit of your shirt has ridden up, but you feel the touch like lightning skittering across your skin. You wrap your hands around his neck, anchoring yourself against him, and it feels like second nature when he pulls you closer and lifts you off your feet. 

In fifteen years nothing has changed—you still melt against him, defenses giving way, legs wrapping around his waist. You break the kiss long enough to whimper direction, saying, “The bedroom is upstairs, second door—”

“On the left, I know. Tommy and I fixed it up a couple months ago. Talked about you the whole time,” he says. And you’re not sure why but the knowledge has your heart flipping in your chest.

It’s almost like he knew, like they both did. Like they could feel you somehow, out there, wandering, finding your way back to them.

Joel lays you down and strips your clothes off slowly, fingers familiarizing themselves with every inch of your skin as if he’s learning it for the first time. He kisses your lips until they’re swollen, leaves marks in the shape of his mouth down your chest, and leaves moisture from his tongue over the hardened peaks of your nipples.

When he parts your thighs and tastes you, he’s still fully clothed. And you begin to feel exposed, like the two of you are standing on uneven terrain, but then he lets out a feral-sounding moan and you think maybe he’s suffered in your absence even more than you yourself have. 

His tongue is soft and hot and makes your back bend off the mattress. Twice he makes you come undone with nothing but his mouth. And when he rises to his knees, peering over you, he looks sated. Relieved, somehow. As if being this close to you has healed him, stitched up some long-opened wound. 

Unhurried, he begins to discard his clothes onto the floor beside yours. His flannel first, and then his t-shirt, and you let out a pathetic moan as you drink in the sight of him. His scarred, masculine hands working at the metal buckle of his black leather belt, his toned arms and his soft tummy, and that trail of thick, dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans. 

Everything about him ignites you, calling to you like some sort of beacon. Your skin prickles as he discards the remainder of his clothes. 

And before you have a chance to speak aloud your fervent need, he’s settling between your thighs and pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. He cradles your face in his hands, gently smoothing your hair away from your face, and there’s so much devotion in his voice that it makes you tremble as he says, “You were made for me, little girl. Do you know that?”

You think you do. You think you’ve always known it, always known that whatever god-like, mystical being that resides in this world had crafted you with Joel in mind. All you can do is nod and bask in the moment, in the sanctity of your creation, in the wickedness of his. Carefully, he pushes his cock into you. 

The stretch is painful at first, even with how wet he’s made you. But it’s a bearable pain, a sweet ache, especially with the way he whispers in your ear and presses soft kisses to your cheek with each breath. “S’okay, you can take it. I know you can. See? There you go. So fuckin’ proud of you, baby. You’re so perfect. Perfect for me.”

Joel rocks his hips against yours at a gradual pace. There’s nothing rushed about it, no aggression in his movements. It’s so different from the last time but the change in him just brings the two of you closer. Your orgasm builds like a fire in your belly, burning more and more with each thrust, heightened by the gruff moans that escape him, by the pressure of his body on top of yours. 

He’s so warm and he feels like home. A sensation you’ve never felt since leaving that cabin, a safety like you’ve never known since. You love him. You forgive him. And so you tell him.

And as the words escape your lips, as you make that final confession that will alter the course of your life forever, his breath stutters in his chest, and that fire that’s been building in your belly reaches its full height, flames licking at your skin. He says, “I love you, too, little girl,” and it tips you over the precipice.

You reach the high of bliss together, at the same exact time, and everything but this feeling fades into nothing. All that remains is you and Joel and this otherworldly closeness. There’s nothing left to forgive, nothing left to navigate. As one, singular soul, you simply are. 

He takes the time to clean you up afterward. You shower together, and he massages body wash into your skin, relieving the ache from your muscles. You don’t ask him to stay because you don’t need to; he just does. Because he knows you like no one else ever has. 

You fall asleep quickly. It’s late and you’re exhausted, but for the first time in fifteen years, you feel stable. He holds you through the night. 

But when he shifts just slightly, it wakes you a few hours before sunrise. His eyes are wide open and bloodshot, clearly straining to stay awake.

Shifting on your elbow to lean up, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

Joel just shakes his head and gives you a small smile. “Nothing,” he says. “Just go back to sleep. Get some rest.”

It’s clearly a lie. Something is tugging at him, and you’re determined to fix it. “Tell me,” you say.

He hesitates for a moment, working over his words in his head. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and tries again. And then he says quietly, unable to look you in the eye, “I wanted to be able to talk you out of leaving. If you changed your mind again.”

The words break your heart, cracking open your ribcage and allowing a trace of bitterness to settle there. It’s your fault, you know. Your fault he worries about you leaving so much, that he allots time to talk you down from a ledge you’re not quite sure even exists anymore. You swallow down the tears that threaten and crawl into his lap. You kiss his face a hundred times, leaving no space untouched until you’re both quietly laughing. “You can sleep easy tonight,” you say.

He nods as if he believes you, but you can tell there’s still anxiety lingering within him. It’s quiet for a long time. He just holds you tightly, arms wrapped around your middle. You think he may have fallen asleep, but then he whispers into your hair, “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Just don’t leave me behind again. Please.”

It’s a plea. He’s begging, in his own way. You kiss him hard, and in only moments he’s snoring with his arms locked around you.

You only wiggle out of his grip when the sun rises, yellow and orange hues cast across your bedroom through the glass pane of the window. You pull Joel’s t-shirt over your head and make your way down the stairs as quietly as you can.

This will be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. You know it will be. You know Joel will pull things out of you you’ve been shoving down deep, know he’ll poke and prod in an attempt to heal all within you that’s been broken. 

Because that’s the kind of man he is; one who takes care of those he loves, who sacrifices his own comfort for others. You don’t deserve someone like him and you know it. No matter how much you forgive, no matter how many times you try to wash your hands clean, you know it’ll never be enough for his devotion. 

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, eyes glued to the front door. It would be easy to leave, you know. Second nature. Instinctual. You wouldn’t have to face all you’ve done, wouldn’t have to unearth all you’ve buried, wouldn’t have to open that closet with all those skeletons. 

Hands trembling, you try to catch your breath. Try to make that final decision, try to forgive a little more. Not to forgive Tommy or Joel, but to forgive yourself. 

The longer you stand there in the kitchen, the less you believe you’ll ever possess that sort of absolution.

But it’s worth a try, isn’t it? To find mercy in a place it’s never existed.

You take a slow breath.

And then you put on a pot of coffee.

taglist; @arizonadreamingg @sirendyes @untamedheart81 @pinkiec6-rubi @galway-girlatwork

[tiredsmashbros]

and so we are gathered here today, to hear TSB's horrible 1k sobbing {LONG}

well guys, it's been officially a week later since the end of the "birthday party" event. crazy it already flew by fast but formerly something i really wanted to say from the very start: thank you.

quite frankly i know i could've just made a simple thank you text as a normal person does, but i wanted to really to show my gratitude by giving something nice. and that something nice was the discord server until... my chaotic brain decided to make a daily week event inspired by scott cawthon UIGHJDSXUKGJH but otherwise- i hope everyone enjoyed tuning in everyday and i've personally been having a blast talking and hanging out with everyone since.

now, i got my secret final card up my sleeve that i've been wanting to do. was to give back something to some specific folks. amazing folks. folks that one: were my introduction to this amazing smg4 community, and two: friends i've made that has genuinely changed my life for the better, and three: been the greatest support i could've ever asked. it's still insane to me that i knew my life would be changed the moment i clicked on a youtube video of someone yapping about a specific blue and purple character from a gmod meme show and if they would work canonical. following up with me just 3 hrs later my first fanart doodle for myself. with just recently that moment being so happy i reached 100 followers on here... if you would've told me four months later that it'll exceedingly grow 10x i would laugh at you and walked away... you guys are insane in the best way possible it has scared me to death, but never have i done better improving my skills and mental health.

and with that, i give to thy, my absolute wholeheartedly appreciation:

@theartistisme43 you were the, if not one of, my first exposure to the community on twitter when i was looking for fanart on day one. i remember vividly being so captivated by your smg4 au by implementing sign language to your smg4 rigs. especially cause despite i've been meaning to relearn sign language for years, it has a special place in my heart for personal reasons. i remember being so obsessed with your animations replaying it again and again and adoring your art style so much. i've been {and still am} really shy expressing my feelings but seriously man i genuinely love your work so, so, SO much. it's still insane to me how you get the unfortunate rope under your feet by some nasty ass fools on twitter, but ong, they're just so jealous our your gmod rigging talent and storytelling. seriously man keep going!! always excited to see what you cooking up next! 💛

@ominus-potato + @bluestrawberrybunny adding you both together because ong it will feel weird to me if i didn't. of course, i am a fanfic addict once i get into a new fixation... and you two have been feeding me graciously. ominus, i love and get inspired by your fics SO MUCH it's insane to me how i'm alive after reading a new piece you've made /pos. you were also my introduction to marware and i've stayed since even if it was started of as a joke UIGHJV. strawberry i remember discovering you on artfight but exploded when i found out you were the creator of the apprenticeship au fic. i was shy to read it but i've been wanting to give you something before artfight started i finally caved in to the lore and my only regret is not getting into it sooner. i love both of ya'lls writing styles so much it's inspired me to genuinely get back into writing fanfics. thank you both so much and please continue writting!!!! i get so excited every now and again going to bed reading them. 💛🌈

@aquaproductions and speaking about artfight... yoU! i remember discovering you actually from trap sanchez's smg4 map BECAUSE THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I WAS PAUSING TO SEE EVERY PEICE TO THEN EXPLODE WHEN YOU SHOWED THEM AT THE END HIUGJHFEDS i LOVE you style so much and god when i got the message from you on artfight i actually fucking screamed. even getting that attacked for you has never once failed to make me smile. i've overcome it by now,, but i genuinely was really shy because you are just so cool and i'm still going crazy the fact your a fan of the boys LIKE BROOOOOOOOOO IUGHJDSXYUJ. ahem- anyways... kEEP BEING SLAY AQUA!!!!! 💛💕💛

@coralalala64 + @cookiepopcat ah yes another duo bc im trying to shorten this but cause you both played a similar role for me. you two, i kid you not, are the first folks i followed while joining the smg4 community. i am in love with your traditional work sm corala i am just obsessed with comics and seeing someone was making 34 comics just made me jump in glee. additionally i love the c r e a t u r e gag sO MUCH T&*YGUIHJK. cookie in general i adore your artstyle so much and especially how you add those little sparks on the hair GUHH ITS SO CUTEEEE!!! i became more of a bigger fan from your shark au and now a fan of ur new au with 3! so excited to see what you guys got cooking up next!!! 🌿💛

@zurkton i know we don't get the opportunity to talk much more but i seriously wanted to feature you in as my appreciation from the insane support you've been giving me. seeing your comments make me smile in glee and even a bonus seeing something new you make. i adore your gmod style of these silly mario recolors BUT SRSLY MAN UR OWN STYLE IS SO GOOD AND SEEING U MADE AN OC FINALLY GUH ITS BEEN IN MY TO DO LIST FOR SOOOOOOO LONG. JUST GUH I LOVE UR WORK SO MUCH PLEASE CONTINUE BEING AWESOME AND I HOPE WE CAN GET MORE TIME TO BE ABLE TO YAP MORE!!! /GEN 💛🍳

@clownypillar oh yeah. you bet your buggy ass i added you on here. cause bRO i was surprised to find someone else who loves bugs it made my little me so happy. and i still have not gotten over that smg4 cult of the lamb au you made since, i love that game sm seeing that on my feed just made me immediately become a fan. doesn't help the fact blue/silas says really amazing and silly things about you in our talks i was so shy finding the right opportunity to try and talk to you qnq,, and when the opportunity did come up {bot issue} I GOT EVEN MORE NERVOUS IHKJFEGDSXUGJH /POS i love your humor sm man you are so fun and i apologize silas has gotten you under the theory trap sigh... but other than that i need to get back into my retired bug fixation and find more ways to make fun of you as we yap and appreciate dr pepper 💛🌈🥤🐛

@libbytwq i still remember the day i got that tsb piece from you on artfight and literally screaming and running around my room in glee seeing my silly man in a silly looney pose. seriously man, ever since i saw that i immediately became a fan of you. i just am a sucker for your style man /srs. hECK i remember struggling so hard to pICK someone to fight back bc i genuinely loved all your ocs and wanted to do everyone- i also find it sO funny and ig coincidental theres so many like coincidences with you??? ong i need to say this or im going to continue going crazy- like ong libby {oc} reminds me one of my trusted friends oc and brings me back to my 2016 nostalgia days, i actually have an oc name lore who has a similar hair style as smgl:e, AND THE FACT WITH OUR SMG4 OCS LORE SIMILARITIES LIKE BRO WE LIVE IN A MATRIX OR SOME SHIT THIS MAKES MY BRAIN EXPLODE AAAAAIOYUIGHJEFDSXZ /J but in all seriousness bro, i love talking with you and seeing your silly work so much. i know you're gonna be makin awesome things bro and you bETTER WIN THOSE MARCHING BAND COMPETITIONS IUGJHEDS 👑🍔🌈💛

@its-a-me-mango mango mango mango... YOU BRITISH FREAK- anyways. you seriously were one of my favorite artist when i joined and ngl i was absolutely terrified talking to you to the point i legit thought you hated me at some point IOKJEHFDWS heCk getting that attack from you on artfight blew my fucking mind bc i was screaming over the tari duck since af was the only place i dropped the tari love interest and i didnt realized it until i looked at your page that you were THE MANGO... bro i actually fucking exploded you have no fucking idea how happy i was 🌈. like you are one srsly one of my favorite inspirations man i love your artwork, your humor, and just everything man. i'm still going internally insane that im talking to you sm bro and the memes we mAKE BRO IM UYIGJHFDWSXZYUITJG THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH A SILLY MANGO HORSE DOCTOR DUDE, YOU ARE SO COOL, INCREDIBLE, AND MAN WHERE IS THAT SNOWTRAPPED 1K YOU PROMISED /J i could go on a bit more but im literally exploding just writing this rn so now imma just lalalalalalalala 🍔💛🌈🥭🐴

@josiekatxd / josiekatxd jo. you are one insane creature /pos. LIKE DAMN MAN YOU DRAW SO FAST IT WAS WILD GETTING ALL THE AMAZING TSB GIFTS AND GETTING TO KNOW MORE OF UR OC 7 JUST BECAME A MORE JOYOUS RIDE!!!! i love your work so much man and the amount of support i've gotten from you makes me so so SOOSOSOSOS HAPPY ITS OVERWHELMING /POS. i enjoy talking with you man {even if i may be slow at timess..} pLEASE dont be afraid to send me smth, more yummy art or MEMEMSSSSS i appreciate anything and everything!!! this was honestly such a joy getting to draw 7 again she's been stuck in my head for so long hELPPP /SILLY 🌿⭐️💛

@rr3d2y AKO!!!!! YOU!!!!!!! YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY MAN EVER SINCE THAT ATTACK YOU MADE FOR ME FROM ARTFIGHT I HAVE BEEN A DIEHARD FAN SINCE. I WENT ABSOLUTELY INSANE OVER IT SO MUCH I HAD TO SHARE IT WITH MY IRL FRIENDS IT MADE ME SO HAPPY. EVEN MORE HOW YOU ACTUALLY IMPLEMENT MY INTERESTS EVERY TIME YOU ATTACKED??? LIKE HELLOOOO??????? AND DAWKO??????? AND JUST UR OC IN GENERAL I LOVE HER SO MUCH BROOOO IUYGJHEFWDCSXZUYHKJ EDWSHJDCS LIKE DUDE I HAD NO IDEA HOW MUCH I COULD WRITE A FULLBLOWN ESSAY UNTIL YOU BARGED IN WITH YUMMY ART EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. YOU SPOIL ME SO MUCH AKO YOU ARE INSANELY INCREDIBLE AND SUCH A JOY TO TALK TO AND BE SILLY WITH. IT MADE ME SO HAPPY TO FIND SOMEONE WHO SHARES MY INTERESTS FROM THE START AND I STILL GO CRAZY EVERY TIME ANY OF IT IS MENTIONED. WHETER ITS SMG4, DAWKO, CG5, FAIRYOFFPARENTS, SONIC, WOLVERINE UYIGJHEFDSCXUIGJH IT ALL MAKES ME JUMP UP AND DOWN KICKING MY FEET MAN. I MEAN IT WHEN I SAY IM A BIG FAN AKO. I APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE 1 MILLION PERCENT AND ADORE YOUR SUPPORT SO MUCH. THANK YOU AKO THE GREAT!!!! LIFETIME SUPPLY OF CHOCOLATE MILK FOR YOU!!!!!!! 🍫🥛💛🌈🍔💕

@radiantrevolt i know your not in the smg4 community whatsoever let alone know anything but i srsly meant it that receiving your support was such a big deal to me man. i never expected you to join the server but it genuinely made me feel more secure knowing i got you right my side just like old times. your support means the world to me man even if i suck as explaining or expressing that. you genuinely mean a lot to me man and the fact your still sticking around if still mind boggling to me evermore. thank you ander for staying by my side and willing to do so even at a space your unfamiliar with. being able to talk to you again has been such a joyride 💛💛💛💛🌈🐈‍⬛

and lastly...

these two freaks...

@strange0-0storm + @bluesbox... honestly... i owe you two a lot. genuinely. storm i remember you specifically when i first started acknowledging the smg4 community bc of how recognizable smg8 was on tumblr and immediately finding you to be so cool. so cool in fact, I WAS TOO SHY TO INTERACT TYIGHJFEDS. i LOVE smg8 so much and getting to see your other ocs such as jessee, cold cash, spamton... 8YIUGFEDSU J ITS JUST SO COOL AND HOLY FUCK MAN I LOVE YOUR ART SO FUCKING MUCH. I AM STILL FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THE TSB PIECE FROM ARTFIGHT MAN VDCXZUYJHGF ITS JUST SO PERFECT I CAN GO FUKING GO OFF AGAIN IHUGFJEDS but in all seriousness man, thank you so much for having the courage to respond to my lipbite comic, to me having the courage to follow you back and interact with you more, to giving me the courage again to join ur server, and the courage to say yes to watching popee with you and silas. finn you have no idea how much your silly words have an impact on me you make me so nervous in the most positive silliest way you have no idea how genuine happy i was being in that call for the very first time. even tho i know how quiet and anxious i was from the start, it was cause i was so shy and nervous bc man it was you! YOU!!!! you're such a fucking awesome guy finn i want you to seriously never forget that!!!! silas, thank you for even talking to me. hell, even after finn left to sleep we stayed and yapped for few more hours. i was never expecting that outcome ever in my life due to past experiences, and im so glad to the earth and back that it did come out as it did. i love talking to you man, i love seeing your work so much, and adore and appreciate to the fullest all the gifts you made me. thank you even more for getting me into the great gatsby and returning my hidden sherlock fixation back to light. i appreciate it way more that i can ever express it man. whether it may us talking about our day, silly nonsense, or me bullying you /j, it makes me so happy. and so grateful i can call you and finn my friends. you guys seriously helped me get out of my darkest angst shell i've had caged inside myself for the past, i didnt think i would ever escape from let alone actually be able to heal from. i didn't think i could ever be the happy ever again. like guys, i look forward to every week getting to get on a call with you guys so much its honestly my favorite activity/event of the week. i know im just silly guy i don't ever show my sappy self ever to ya'll but i mean it wholeheartedly ya'll helped me out so much more than you guys could ever imagine. i love you both so much i just wanna pick you two up and throw you into a canon so we could all go to disney world together and be just be silly. thank you finn, thank you silas 💛🤍💙🍔🍟🥤

i could honestly continue yapping but i was not expecting this to take longer than i was originally expecting so imma just end it here for now. i do want to thank everyone in the smg4 community for your continuous support. the amount of appreciation and love i get is still insane for me to grasp and i adore every single piece of giftart i've ever received. never did i expect to grow this big let alone meet such incredible and talented people ever in my life. i genuinely love all of you guys. thank you so much and onwards to more silliness!!! 🍔🌈 ⛅️🌿

[taintandviolent]

Knead ; Kit Walker x reader

summary: Kit hasn’t been coping well with Briarcliff life, and developed an unhealthy solution to the numbness he feels on a daily basis. You’re a perfect, beautiful part of his plan.

word count: 1.7K

w a r n i n g s: hurt, angst, depression, kind of whump, brief mentions of smut, female receiving, violence, fist fights and brief mention of injuries.

a/n: my first official Kit Walker fic!! requested by an anonymous!! anon; hope this is what you had in mind and I delivered!! I tried to focus more on Kit’s motivations and issues than the smut, so that’s why it’s a little lighter on the fucking this go round! I dunno why I struggle writing for Kit so much, aaaaah! also written at work, so usual apologies for any disjointed or clunky writing!!!

full fic under the cut! / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of future fics!

The storm raged on outside, a horrible deluge that had lasted days. Kit's dark eyes flitted to the clock on the wall. The hands ticked by but time never seemed to change. Not here. He needed to feel something. Anything. The days turned into weeks, weeks into months and nothing ever changed. He was an accused man, previously compos mentis, but with his surroundings, that title deteriorated gradually.

Kit Walker was losing it. Slowly, but surely. The cold, grey tone of Briarcliff was swallowing him whole, like a starved, but fading beast. Days were the worst - at least come evening, he could sleep. With sleep, came dreams. Dreams of somewhere else, dreams of you. Days were long and dreary, and Kit soon realized that the only thing that mattered were physical feelings. His mind wasn't a safe place to be. The truth of it was, Kit felt his fire burning out, and started acting out.

First, it was intentionally burning the biscuits. He was reprimanded and sentenced to biscuit duty for the next two weeks. Then it was sneaking out from the common room on repeated occasions, sulking along the hallways as though he wanted to get caught. Deep down, he did. Reprimanded again, and confined to solitary as punishment. But that afternoon, he craved something deeper. He needed something that would last, and Sister Jude had an unusual streak of mercy lately. It had to be good.

"Hey, sugah’."

Your tired hands stopped their kneading. You looked up, wide-eyed, with a smear of flour across your cheek. He didn't know it, but you'd had a thing - a silly little crush - on Kit Walker since you saw him in the common room during your first week. You'd heard the rumours, but every time you exchanged words, he was the nicest guy you'd ever met. Seemed like he had good, strong family values and manners -- which was more than you could say for most of the men you'd met.

Kit spotted the dash of white and reached out, wiping it away with the pad of his thumb. You really were one of the cutest girls he'd seen since Alma. It wouldn't be hard to do what he wanted... what he needed to do to feel again.

"Hi, Kit." You murmured, frustrated before returning to the pile of off-white dough. The last thing you needed was a distraction; the biscuits were already hard enough to get right, and Sister Jude was a stickler for them being made correctly.

"Whatsa' mattah'?" He could sense your irritation, and furrowed his brows. Maybe his plan wasn't going to work after all.

"I can't... get these darn biscuits right! Every time I try, they come out too hard and I'm just..." You grit your teeth and shoved the mound of dough away from your hands. "I'm so frustrated!"

"Dough duty, huh?"

You nodded, and pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes with your wrist.

"Here, sweethaht', lemme' show you. I've done enough of 'em to know how to do it right."

He was suddenly behind you, his arms stretching out to the table in front of you. He rested his hands atop of yours, and slowly began moving them, kneading them slowly. Much slower and softer than you had been.

"Just like that," he murmured, his lips close to your ear. "You gotta' be gentle with 'em... firm, but not too much... or they'll seize up on ya', makes 'em tough." His words were low and sweet, and you didn't have to try very hard to find another meaning to them. They evoked a deep, body-rocking shiver from your core. It travelled up your spine and made your teeth chatter. Kit laughed breathily behind you.

"Am I doing it right?" You whispered, your voice sweet and demure, laced with intention. "I have a tendency to wanna'... go fast."

"Slooow, sugah', nice n' slow. Othawise..." His teeth grazed your ear. "The dough won't rise."

Without warning, you rutted your ass against his groin, moaning aloud. You ground your ass against him slowly, just like he told you to. Kit made a fist in the dough over yours, forcing your hands deep into the flour. This was progressing faster than he expected. He hadn't known you'd be so willing to his advances. His cock twitched to life, tightening the front of his pants.

"You want it bad, sugah'?"

"I want it bad," you echoed. Suddenly, all worries of getting caught went out the window, you were no longer concerned about which Sister would find you - you just wanted him.

It had been weeks since either of you felt intimacy, felt that clawing hunger as it boiled in your core. You whimpered and dropped your head to his shoulder.

"Let me feel you, Kit... please..."

Kit ripped his flour-covered fingers from the dough, and reached back to his crotch, pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. He flipped the edge of your uniform up, and pressed his heavy cock against the curve of your ass. The sensation was indescribable, and he let out a throaty groan.

The hunger had him. The hunger, and the promise of punishment. Your body was soft and sweet like the dough in front of you two and had him going, that was undeniable, but the threat was what was really driving him forward. He needed to feel everything he could. He took hold of his cock, stroking it slowly against your ass cheeks, feeling the precum as it leaked into his hands.

Kit's free hand wrapped around your hips again, urging them backwards into his own. You whimpered, letting him take full control. Your fingers were still embedded in the dough, squeezing through the spaces between your digits.

With a deep sound, Kit slipped himself inside you. Your walls squeezed around him as he plunged himself as deep as he could, humping you hard. His thrusts were determined, but steady and slow. Just like he'd said...

You reached around to take hold of his soft brown hair, making a fist in the locks. He didn't care that your fingers were covered in flour, and it was falling into the collar of his shirt. He didn't care about anything except what he was feeling.

Touch-starved, it didn't take him long to climax. Kit emptied his load inside you, pumping it deep. You whimpered, rolling your lips inward to soften the moans. You were close behind him, and when he whispered in your ear, begging you to do it, you did.

Kit heard the heavy bootsteps before you did. But he didn't move. He was ready.

"Hey! What in the hell do you think you're doin'!?" The orderly bellowed, and Kit yanked his softening cock from you. Your legs twitched together as it left you, the slippery feeling sending another wave of pleasure through you.

Phase two of his plan was in action. Kit stepped in front of you, fists raised in front of his face. He pumped, and threw the first punch, making contact with the guy's cheekbone. He reeled back, touching his skin to see if he'd broken skin -- he hadn't. But he was going to pay for that.

Fortunately for Kit and his now-sick need, he hit him back, harder, splitting his lip immediately. You spun around, pressing your back against the table, covering your mouth in horror as the two men fought.

The man threw a hard left hook and Kit went down, falling to the cold cement floor with a thud. You could do nothing but scream, begging for him to stop. Through winces, Kit looked up at you and shook his head. To you, he was being noble. To him, he was revelling in the pain he was feeling and wanted nothing to interrupt it.

~

"Assaulting an orderly, Mr. Walker?"

"Yes, Sistah'. He looked at me sideways."

"He interrupted your fornication, is what he did." She sternly remarked. Kit swallowed, looking down at his feet. The punishment was coming - he wouldn't have been called into her office otherwise.

"Seems like he got the better of you." She gestured to him pointedly. He had, that was true. Kit had gotten a few good punches in, but the orderly was bigger and brawnier, and had walloped him as soon as he'd gotten the chance. The cut on his lip stung every time he spoke, and his ribs were definitely bruised from the steel-toed berrage that he'd endured earlier.

"Over my desk," she rasped. Kit was almost excited -- a disgusting, disappointing feeling that he knew, deep down, he shouldn't be feeling. But a feeling was a feeling and he had to ride it out, in whatever way he could.

"Sistah' Jude," he interjected, as he bent over the modest wooden desk. "I'm sahrry' for what I did but don't punish her. She didn't do anything. It was all me."

"Mr. Walker," she replied. "I'll do exactly as I see fit."

The first hit stung. She was using the wooden switch, and it sliced through the air with an audible thwip. It burned against his skin, sweltering hot heat coursing over his cheeks and the back of his thighs. Tears bit at the corner of his eyes, it felt so terrible. That was just it -- it felt so terrible. He hadn't felt this much in weeks.

She hit him again, just above the spot where she'd previously hit. Kit winced again, clenching his fists hard atop her desk. Another one, and the tears streamed down his cheeks. He inhaled through clenched teeth and exhaled hard through his nose with each hit. Sister Jude's kind streak had ended, and she was unrelenting.

Twelve hits later, she finally stopped. Kit was sent back to his room, welted and bruised all over, but hell... at least he felt something.

[rhiaarrow]

With Bad joking about preparing to go live as a hermit if the eggs are gone for a long time it really got me thinking about how important the eggs and their eggy actors have been to him.

Not that they haven't been important to everyone, the eggs are such a huge part of the server but tonights ramble is about Bad.

To the shock of absolutely no one! I'm a Ghostie first and foremost, with a hyperfixation and a penchant for writing novel length rambles. This is just the usual atp :')

Before the Qsmp Bad was not a daily streamer, not even close, just check his vods channel. Hell, even when he joined the QSMP he didn't stream every day of the start of the server. He only streamed one or two days for a handful of hours...but then he got Dapper.

And with him being a single parent Bad had to log on every day to do Dapper's tasks.

(Yes, Q was also a single parent but he had ppl babysit Tilin, also she died within the first 2 weeks of her being around soooo yeah, different circumstance)

Then because Bad was on every single day he took up a position of babysitter for most of the eggs since their parents couldn't be on as frequently.

To begin with it was mostly just Tallulah, she could've been taken care of by Philza but her schedule didn't originally line up with Phil's so it was easier for her to wake up for Bad to do her tasks.

Then Ramon started joining them some nights so he could hang out with Dapper.

Then Bad became closer with the French and started to watch Pomme for them when they logged off for the night since Pomme was a night owl.

Then Vegetta stopped logging in as often and Leo kept barely missing Foolish so Bad started taking care of Leo's tasks when Foolish couldn't and she started spending time with him as well.

Then Richas started hanging out with Dapper and Pomme, so they formed the late night trio and hung out almost every night which eventually became Richas just hanging out with Bad whenever he felt like it.

Then Pepito arrived and since Roier wasn't on as often late last year Pepito would hang out with Bad and Foolish most days.

Then Em immediately decided that Bad was her favorite Uncle and would hang out with him when Bagi went to bed if she wanted to stay up.

When the eggs disappeared, rather than his usual 6-10 hour streams Bad was streaming 3-5 hours because his entire time on the server was usually spent hanging out with the eggs.

I've rambled before about how qBad and Tio Bad are two separate things because Tio Bad isn't rp, it's just ccBad atp but I feel like some people don't realize the extent to which ccBad spends time with the Eggy actors.

Every single stream, from 5-12 hours, he's only ever without an eggy companion for a couple of hours maximum.

I mean there's the probability of each egg just showing up to hang out with Bad at any point in the day,

Obviously you've got these 3;

Dapper, Pomme, Richas - highest probability

Then these 3;

Empanada, Pepito,Tallulah, - high probability

Then these 5;

Ramon, Chunsik, Sunny - low probability

Chayanne, Leo - lowest probability

There is no egg that has never shown up randomly to hang out with their Tio Bad (and yes I am counting the Ghostie streams in this, it was still ccBad so yknow)

ccBad spends so much time with them.

Not counting all the stuff he's done on stream with all the eggs, he has;

built the snowman with Talluladmin and Pommin,

played battleship with Pommin and Ricardão,

worked on create farms with Dappmin,

worked on the signs with Pommin and Ricardão,

built decorations with Empanadmin and Pommin

Just to name a couple of the stuff we know, not even mentioning the nights they just spend together after stream doing nothing important

The server feels especially empty as a Ghostie because ccBad himself is just so used to hanging out with not just the eggs but the eggy actors as well.

His days are usually dictated by what one of the eggs wants to do, not even necessarily his kid.

If an egg wants to go on an adventure to find a particular thing but knows it's rare or could take a while, they know that the easiest thing to do (if they don't want to drag their parents to do it) is probably ask Tio Bad to take them to look for it. Em's done it, Tallulah's done it, Sunny's done it, Pepito's done it, Leo's done it, literally every egg except Chay and Chun.

His ass is always online and always willing to do anything for the eggs, unless it's ridiculously dangerous, then he draws the line.

If that man does go live as a hermit due to everything reminding him of the fact that the eggy actors are temporarily on break I will not be shocked.

ccBad spends so much of his time with them, not just their little eggy characters.

[worriedvision]

He proves you wrong- Tighnari

Been a while since I wrote for Tighnari, gender neutral reader. Reader is written as shy here, but Tighnari is dating them and has grown used to it. The same can't be said for some admirers of his. Some really suggestive words from Tighnari hence the category.

--

"Master Tighnari is busy." Someone bluntly states, you mid-sip of your coffee. Eyes widening, you choke on your coffee as you almost drop your cup. "You heard me, he doesn't need a creepy stalker."

"...I don't kn-" you start, only for the forest ranger to cut you off.

"You keep visiting for no good reason, and you keep your distance from him until nobody else is around him." They explain. "You're lucky he hasn't spotted your creepy behaviour, you know. He's a very busy man."

You wince, still confused at what they were getting at. Did they not realise you entered Tighnaris house several times?

"Stop coming to the forest if you know what's good for you." They warn you, turning to leave but saying one last thing to make you second guess yourself. "Tighnari is snarky, but hes also highly considerate of other people. Stop taking advantage of him."

--

Rethinking everything, Tighnari did tell you that you needed to keep the relationship behind closed doors for your safety, as well as the jealous onlookers Tighnari knew of. You thought his reasoning for keeping the relationship private was solely for both of your conveniences.

But now, you were worried he was just wanting to let you down lightly. Maybe he was hoping you'd stop visiting him, and he knew you'd be hurt if he just let you down when you confessed to him. You thought you knew him well enough that you could trust he wouldn't beat around the bush, but maybe you didn't know him for long enough.

So, with a heavy heart you avoid him at all costs. No longer visiting him, ducking out of his sight whenever you see his ears, ignoring the pining you felt for him.

Since Tighnari hadn't seen you, he was immediately worried - he was that worried that he didn't even wait a week until contacting Cyno, asking him to look for you.

You're having your daily walk when you feel a pair of eyes behind you. It wasn't Tighnari, it felt more menacing.

"He's worried, _." Cyno states. "Something happened recently, didn't it?"

"...He's worried he's hurt my feelings, that's all." You reply, Cyno waiting for you to continue. "I put him on the spot by confessing to him, and he didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"...You've been actively avoiding him even when he looks for you." Cyno continues, your guilt worsening as you recognise how immature your actions were.

"Someone told me the truth. That he's too giving towards others, and ignores his own wants." You reply, turning around only to realise Tighnari had been standing there the whole time, just back facing Cyno so he couldn't interrupt.

"'Too giving ', huh?" Tighnari tuts, walking around Cyno. "You lummox, you do know I'm not one for tiptoeing around things. Which forest ranger planted these silly ideas into your mind?"

"I don't want them to get in trouble." You choke out, Tighnari taking a step closer to you. "I can't blame them for making me realise I've been making you uncomfortable."

Tighnari pulls you in for a hug, making sure he could whisper into your ear.

"The things I have done to your body are not to let you down easily." He huffs. "And I don't give my body out to anyone else either." He kisses your cheek, your brain short-circuiting as your brain relives those heated nights.

"I love you. I realised now people are too prying regardless of whether we keep things private." Tighnari plays off innocently, Cyno now long gone. "Let's go for our first date, my love."

--

"This is our first date, what would you recommend for us?" Tighnari smirks, you trying to look away at his playful teasing as the waitress recommends a platter. We'll try that -" Tighnari nods, the waitress walking away as he leans towards you "-but I would like to have you as well."

"Tighnari, careful!" You gasp. "People might be listening."

"Listening to a boyfriend make it clear they're having their first date with someone as breathtaking as you? Let them listen on!" Tighnari smiles, light giggles coming from various people at his antics.

It was clear to everyone in that room you two were a happy couple, even the odd forest ranger you knew of didn't look disapproving of it.

--

After the meal itself, you both go for a nice walk before going back to his place, making sure to be holding each others hands as you make your way to his house. Tighnari notices a familiar and unwelcome pair of eyes on him - the forest ranger he had rejected - so he kisses you on the cheek before telling you he'll meet you on the bed.

All he has to to is look directly at the person in question, the smile dropping off his face in the most intimidating and spine chilling way possible, before finally going inside to join you.

[mssonepiece]

🩷High School Sweetheart🩷

🩷Chapter 1🩷

The Text?

Megumi Fushiguro x fem!Reader; Modern AU, no curses, cursed spirits or possession of cursed techniques; Reader and other characters are in college.

1.3k+ Words

Next Chapter

Dear Megumi, we've been friends since middle school and I've been thinking maybe it'd be nice to know if you feel the same way that I do about you.. I hope I don't regret this... I feel more close to you than any of our other friends and lately I can't stop myself from wanting to be around you all the time, it's okay if you don't feel the same. I love being your friend and I'm so scared to lose that because of this.

Looking at the message you typed out on your phone five minutes before you think of how this is the corniest text you've ever written up in your life. It would be utterly embarrassing to send this message just to be left on read or be told that your feelings are not reciprocated, making things awkward between the two of you. But you've felt as though you've had this crush on Megumi for so long that it's either shoot your shot and try to be something more or force yourself to stop hanging out with him in hopes to lose all romantic feelings toward him. Will that ever happen though? Would you be able to lose feelings even if you did ignore him? The more you think about the situation the more you feel like the text is a bad idea. Is it a good idea to ruin this friendship for the chance of something... more. Ding

~After The FaceTime With Maki~

You and Maki talked on the phone for a good hour and a half before you had to end it short for a bit of grocery shopping. You should have done it much earlier in the week, then you could have stayed on the phone longer. If you don't go today though then you will have nothing to eat tonight. On the way there you think back about what Maki told you over the phone. She of course had more to say about Mai, they've been living together for a year now in an apartment their parents pay for but Maki is the only one doing the daily chores around their house. You think that if you were her, you would have made Mai do more or move out way sooner. Maki of all people is surprisingly patient with her though.. at times.. It seems like she's also having the usual problems with her father too. They always seem to have some sort of dispute going on but today was particularly bad. He doesn't accept what college she has chosen to go to and is trying to have her drop out and transfer to the same college that Mai attends. Mai goes to a more high-league school but Maki has no interest in going to a school that is only to help her family's public image... It's that bad. Well her father called again pestering her this morning and when she declined for the hundredth time, he called the college board saying that Maki was very interested in transferring soon, even asking for her transcript. He's taking things too far, you can't help but feel bad for her. Wishing you could have talked to her more on the phone and carried on walking the short way to your local market.

The sun is setting, casting a beautiful blend of colors across the cloudless sky. On the side of the sky where the sun has already subsided, stars are starting to appear. Your feet slowly stop moving forward as you crane your neck up, getting a better view of the whole night sky. You could look at it forever but the awkward feeling of standing in the middle of a sidewalk was creeping up on you, making you take slow steps towards the market again. It's a silent walk other than the cars and people passing by. It's peaceful. Well until the sudden thought of wanting to share this moment with Megumi. Leading to a slideshow of thoughts. Your head felt like it was spinning and full of so much information that it just wanted to drop on the hard concrete ground.

The market doors seem to appear in front of you out of nowhere, arms instinctively reaching out to pull the handles. Maybe you've been a little in your head lately because of this whole Megumi thing but none of the choices of action are appealing. If you were to end up ruining your friendship with Megumi over some high school crush then you’re sure you could never forgive yourself. He’s always been there, mentally and physically. Ever since you first became close in middle school he has been the first friend you would choose to hang out with, even though he can be a bit of a bore sometimes he is good company. You could be sitting in silence together for hours, him reading a book and you playing a video game, watching a show, or sometimes reading along with him and neither of you would have anything to complain about. But if you carry on feeling like this without ever telling him then it would soon be too hard to even be around him anyway. It’s slowly becoming a comfort to have him just hanging around whenever you have something you need to do. You would have even asked him to come along shopping with you if you had not felt embarrassed by the whole text you wrote up earlier, and didn’t even send. The urge to text him now is strong but what to say isn’t coming to mind. You’re better off getting what you need from the market and going back home. Maybe then you'll be able to think of something to send him.

Setting the few bags of grocery’s down on your dining room table you finally take a deep breath for the first time in what seems like hours. Reaching back for your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you open the messages app. 

After updating Kirara and texting Maki again about your crush situation, you decide it’s best to put your phone away for a bit while you make dinner. Choosing to ignore the fact that you told both of your friends you were going to text Megumi. But also sending a text to Nobara that will catch her attention, riling up her pho mo.

Your kitchen isn't very big, only having a small one bedroom apartment often doesn't come with much foot space. You still try to make it look nice with decor and furniture. Plants really have helped with brightening up your home, bringing different greens and yellows throughout your house. It makes you feel like your apartment is 'homey' and more livable. Everywhere you've lived before here never really felt like your own. Going from your family home, to a year long roommate situation, and finally now you rent your own apartment off-campus. It's such a different feeling knowing that you have the place to yourself and of course the responsibility of the bills will definitely make you feel that difference too. It's close to campus, just a short five minute walk. You're even able to stop by Starbucks everyday, you don't.. but you could. You basically live in the center of town so you can walk to most places with ease, making rent much more tolerable too when not having to pay for a car. You'll have to deal with your college loans later in life, but that's the least of your current worries.

Dinner is as boring as usual, chicken and rice. Anything that is quick and easy to make so that you can relax sooner. It doesn't take long to make the rice and start on the chicken. You start to feel like it would have been better to order food but it's all worth it when you get to sit on the couch with a steaming bowl of chicken and rice. Situating a pillow in your lap, then the bowl of food on top. You use your right hand to hold the bowl in place on your lap and the other to reach for the tv remote now that you're comfortable, turning on the television to Netflix most recent watches. Episode 13 of "Orange is The New Black" brightens the display from the dark loading screen previously there. You raise your hand to the spoon sitting in the white glass bowl and take a bite from it as the show starts. You hear a faint ringing of an iPhone from the kitchen but choose to ignore it til the end of the episode.

Masterlist

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Tag List~ @m00nglad3-mp3 @we-loveebony

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for planning to move out of my fiancee's place?

This one might be long so... sorry. Tried to sum it up the best I can. Hi, it's the anon moving in with the vegans. So my fiancee (20) and I (21) moved in with a pair of vegans, one of which has since moved out so now we only live with Sam (26).

Sam is polyamorous, and I thought I was too (although I now think I might be just aroace), and since moving in my partner has discovered that, unlike they previously thought when I was interested in someone a couple years prior, that they are also polyamorous, and have started dating Sam. I was totally okay with this, because I'm very poly-positive and wanted my fiancee to have a chance to discover themself and experience new things.

However, since moving in, they spend 90% of nights sleeping with Sam in their bed, and the other 10% in mine. I've been feeling really lonely about that, and expressed that, and they've responded that they've just been having a really hard time lately with their mental health, and that it's not personal. I'm trying to be supportive and understanding and patient, but I feel very isolated in this house.

Everyone in the house has chronic pain, although my fiance and I have more flare-ups than Sam does. But while there's a lot of leniency when they don't do chores, I'm still supposed to get all of my work done AND theirs, without my pain levels taken into account. This has led to me losing hours of sleep due to being expected to finish chores after getting home at 1am from my shift.

There's also the money problem: I am currently working two jobs to pay rent, and Sam makes triple what I do in salary. My fiancee only works one shift a week by choice, to pay for therapy, and thus doesn't pay rent. We are splitting rent equitably, so I'm not paying nearly as much as Sam, but still if I had the chance to cut back on hours at work to actually take care of myself (emotionally, pain-wise, actually having time to do my physio, etc) I would take it in a heartbeat. But I'm not dating Sam so I feel like there are a lot of double standards here.

I like Sam. They GM for our TTRPG home game and I have a great time. I sincerely don't want to lose those good times. But my mental health is at an all time low and I feel like a third wheel to my fiancee. I've known them for 6 years, we've known Sam for almost 1. I've started a tally of how often my fiancee sleeps in my bed vs in Sam's, and in the past 18 days, they've slept in my bed once. (I started the tally because I convinced myself I was making things up). That all said. I like Sam. But now I'm starting to have feelings of resentment due to... all of this whole situation.

This has led to me reminding my fiancee daily how much I miss them and how lonely I am, talking about moving out (they confirmed they would still live with Sam if I moved out), and being more vocal about my mental health struggles. I've started talking to my friends about it, so quite a few of them are in on the situation, and most people are advising me that I need to communicate more or that we just shouldn't get married.

I love them a lot and do still want to get married, but I also want to break up just because it's hurting to stay in this situation.

That got a lot away from me sorry, I'm probably missing some details, but I really want to know, am I the AH here? Should I be more sympathetic to my fiancee? Am I being unfair to Sam?

What are these acronyms?

[holdupjack]

Sick

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

WARNING: None

——————

Hermione's P.O.V:

7th Year

I wasn't surprised when my girlfriend didn't show up for breakfast, it happens many times due to her very bad sleeping habits.

So, I didn't think much of it as I studied for the test in an upcoming class and ate my toast.

After breakfast, my Friday morning went on normally as I zipped from class to class.

When lunch rolled around, I did find it immediately strange that Y/n was nowhere in sight when I entered the Great Hall.

"Hermione! There you are!" I hear, and I see Y/n's dorm mate walk up to me.

"I've been looking for you all morning! Y/n wanted me to tell you that she's not going to classes today" they say and I furrow my brows in confusion.

"The poor thing has caught that nasty chest flu that's been going around! She moved herself into the spare dorm so no one else would get sick" they say as their eyes seem to catch someone behind me.

"Tell Y/n I hope she feels better, bye!" They say as they disappear into the sea of students coming and going.

I bite my lip and walk over to the space between Harry and Ginny.

"You look anxious," Ginny says as I take a bowl and fill it with the daily soup that is made as a lunch option.

"I'm not anxious, it's just Y/n is sick with that dreaded chest flu," I say and Ron snickers like a little kid.

"You two have been dating for two years, yet you still get nervous about a simple cold" he laughs out and I roll my eyes as I grasp a small plate for myself.

"Pardon me, for caring about my partner," I say and he just continues to chuckle.

"That chest flu is rough though, Neville has it," Harry says and I hum sadly.

I know it's just a cold, but I can't help but feel bad for my Y/n.

"It should only last for a couple of days," Ginny says and I sigh softly.

"That's good, I'll see you guys next week then," I say and Ron furrows his eyebrows.

"What? Aren't you coming to our Quidditch match Sunday?" He asks and I roll my eyes again as I use a quick flick of my wand to have the dishes float and follow me.

"If Y/n feels better, then maybe," I say and he groans.

"She's seventeen Hermione, she's not a little kid that needs to be taken care of" he grumbles and I glare at him.

Ron quickly shuts down and pushes his food around with his fork.

I hum and bid the other two farewell as I walk out of the Great Hall, the food following me close behind.

It didn't take me long to get to the empty dormitory that Y/n was using. I could sadly hear her when I walked into the common room.

As I got closer to the room, a loud coughing fit erupts from behind the door, I wait patiently until she was done.

I can't help but grimace from how hard and airy her cough is.

When she was finally done, all I hear is a soft:

"ow"

I knock on the door and hear Y/n clear her throat.

"Come in"

I open the door and peek inside to find my Y/n laying on one of the beds and I frown.

"Hello my love," I say as the food floats past me and onto the side table next to her.

"You didn't have to bring me food," she says as her voice cracks and disappears throughout the sentence.

"Shush," I say as I close the door behind me and take a seat on the desk chair next to the bed.

"I don't want you to get sick" she mumbles, her eyes small and glossy as I lean down and peck her forehead.

Fever.

"I have a much better immune system than you, my lovely" I whisper back as I sit back up.

"No, you don't! I hate when you get sick, you get pinchy and bitey" she mumbles and I laugh.

"Bitey?" I ask as I hold the soup out for her to take, she sits up with a small groan.

"Yes, bitey! You kept chomping on my open skin when I was taking care of you during your strep throat episode! It was like fighting off a feral cat" she grumbles and I can't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry my lovely" I mumble as she takes the food from my hands.

"You know I love you, even with your sick-biting antics" she mumbles back and I chuckle.

"You can bite me back this weekend," I say without thinking, and Y/n smirks as she takes a spoonful of the soup.

"Don't threaten me with a good time" she sniffles out and I roll my eyes playfully.

"How are you feeling?" I ask as I place my bag, filled with my work and books, onto her desk.

"Like I got punched in the lungs and smacked with a steel pan on my head" Y/n coughs out as she covers her mouth and looks away from me.

I lean over and run a hand through her hair as I scoot the chair closer to the bed.

"I'm sorry you feel so crummy my dove" I mumble as she puts down her soup on the desk.

"You should eat," I say and she just hums, laying back down and letting my hand wander through her hair.

"Later" she whispers as her eyes shut immediately.

I smile as I lean down and kiss the top of her dozing head, letting it linger for a moment before sitting back up.

Time seemed to go by fast, as a few minutes turn into an hour, of me running my fingers against her scalp.

But, a part of me needed to do something. I can't just sit and stare at my girlfriend all day.

Even if it is my favorite activity.

After another moment of staring at her chest, to make sure she's still breathing, I stand up and begin to clean up around the bed.

Picking up tissues and a bottle of water she had probably dropped, I throw it all into the bin.

Taking a seat back on the desk chair, I take out some of my books and tried to work on something to pass the time.

Yet my eyes kept shifting over to Y/n's sleeping form as I eat a grape from the plate of food I grabbed for myself.

I flip through the pages I marked and scan the material.

Another hour must have gone by with my failed attempt at studying and my eyes continuously flicker back to Y/n.

Eventually, I did get sucked into the chapter.

Until I feel fingertips land on my thigh, which caused me to smile.

"Watch those hands Ms.Y/l/n" I chuckle out and she groans unhappily.

I laugh and slip my hand into hers, she immediately pulls it towards her face and rests her cheek on the back of my hand.

Trapping me in an uncomfortable sideways leaning position.

"My love?" I laugh and she just groans again as her other hand comes out from the blanket.

She grabs the bottom of the chair and pulls it right up against the bed, which at least saved me from begin hunched over any longer.

As I look over at my, now far away, studying material; I feel a sudden pain that causes me to hiss.

"Ow! Y/n! Did you just bite my hand?!" I ask in surprise and she laughs, into a hard cough obviously, and she turns away from me quickly.

I pull my hand away and rub the small bite mark on the side of my hand.

"You said I could!" She wheezes out between coughs and I roll my eyes.

"Not like a hungry carnivore," I say and she turns back to me with a grin.

"All have you know, you taste like hand sanitizer and that coco butter you put on your skin...which no carnivore is trying to eat" she mumbles and I laugh softly.

She lays back down and holds out her hand for me again, which I ignore.

"I'm not getting bit again, it hurt"

"How do you think I feel?"

"In my defense, I don't remember biting you," I say and Y/n rolls her eyes.

"Hermione, stop fighting the sick." She says and I hum softly, stupidity taking her hand.

"If you bite me again, I'm punching the sick," I say and she just laughs.

"Yada, Yada, Yada" she mumbles as my hand goes back to being trapped between her head and hand.

Y/n was quick to fall asleep again as I was figuring out how to use my one hand to move everything to the edge of the desk.

I sigh and mindlessly let my fingers rub the side of her head, as I try to study again.

Luckily, by the time dinner rolled around, I had somehow gotten free and was trying to wake her.

"Y/n? Dove? Are you hungry?" I ask as I stand up and grab my plate and the old cold soup from lunch.

She gives me a quiet 'no' and I frown.

"What if I got some of the elf's handmade crackers? And some juice? Then will you eat?" I ask and she just hums.

"I'll take that as a maybe" I whisper as I walk over to the door and look back at my girlfriend.

My heart squeezes lightly as I look at her poor body shaking under the mountain of blankets.

"I'll be back my lovely," I say, and I just get a small snore in return.

I quickly make my way out of the dorm.

——————

Y/n's P.O.V:

When I awoke, it was pitch black in the room.

"I've gone blind" I whisper in a panic, until I see a soft glow of the night sky shine as the curtains flap open for a moment.

"Never mind, I've gone even more stupid" I whisper as I sit up with a groan.

I rest my back on the headboard and sigh softly, my adjusting eyes scanning the room.

It's freezing in here.

Freezing like a winter snowstorm.

Snow turns into water.

Water goes back into the clouds.

Then it rains.

...

Now I have to pee.

"Damn my thought process"

With another groan, I swing my legs onto the side, and let my feet hit the cold floors.

"Here we go" I whisper as I push myself up into a standing position.

Only to fall back onto to bed just as quickly.

"I've aged sixty years" I sigh as I try again.

This time I find success!

My hand lands on the bedpost as I slowly make my way toward this dormitory bathroom.

Thank Merlin I thought about toiletries before moving myself in here.

As I make my way to the center of the room, my head gets lightheaded and my legs feel weak.

"Ope, going down" I whisper as I slowly lay my body on the ground.

I sigh as the cold floor feels nice against my burning skin.

Still cold though.

"Guess I'll lay here" I mumble as my eyes shut.

——————

When my consciousness awakes to the sound of a door opening.

"Bloody hell, Y/n? Love! Are you alright?!" I hear fast footsteps approach me and a hand checks my pulse.

"Not dead, dizzy" I mumble and a sigh of relief hits the back of my head as they lean down and kiss the top of my head multiple times.

"You're Hermione, right?" I question, the ringing in my ears causing me to be unsure.

"No, McGonagall"

Definitely Hermione.

I laugh softly as she presses one last kiss to my head as she rubs my back.

"Are you ready to get up?" She asks and I shake my head.

"Then, may I join you?" She asks, and I nod.

My throat hurts too much to talk.

It's like I deep-throated a pineapple.

Now that would be an impressive party trick.

I hear Hermione stand up and walk around the room for a minute or two.

A blanket is draped over me, soon she sneaks under the blanket and rests her head between my shoulder blades.

It's quiet as Hermione's fingertips trace the spot in front of her face. I almost fall asleep, until her voice rings in my ears.

"Get better, quicker" she mumbles and I chuckle.

"Getting tired of me already?" I whisper back.

"I like taking care of you my dear, I just don't like that you're not okay," she says as I hum.

"I love you" she whispers so quietly, that it almost seems like she was afraid that her words will make me worse.

"I love you too" I whisper back as her arm wraps over my back, and squeezes me.

"You know I'm not going to sleep, right?" She asks and I hum again.

"You know that I'm not going to stop breathing, randomly in my sleep?" I ask, and she just sighs.

"In my brain, I know that, but my heart and gut say otherwise" Hermione whispers as her lips reach up and kiss my neck, before going back to their original position.

"Thank you for caring," I say as my hand reaches down and rubs her back slowly.

"I'll always take care of you, my love," she says and I chuckle as I trace shapes softly on her back.

"Even if you are Minister of Magic?" I ask and a soft laugh comes from her lips.

"Do you think I'm just going to stop loving you if I ever get that position?" She asks and I laugh as well.

"Well I don't know, maybe you'll get it on with your secretary," I say and she snorts as her body vibrates against mine.

She laughs out a little and I could feel her smile form against me as she nuzzles her face against my back.

"Thank you for the laugh," she says and I hum.

"Will you promise to sleep?" I ask as my head pounds from the laughter.

"I'll try" she mumbles.

——————

No one's P.O.V:

She didn't.

Instead, Hermione counted how many breaths Y/n took and how many seconds were in between each one.

5,873 breaths (give or take some missed)

6-7 seconds in between.

Why did Hermione do this?

Who knows, all she knew is that it made her feel better.

Even though her girlfriend was just sick with a simple cold, it still calmed her to know Y/n was still breathing.

I guess it's just a common thing to do though, right?

When you love someone, you can't help but worry when they're sick.

People even go as far as watching, or hearing, to make sure the person they love is still breathing.

Hermione has done this multiple times also.

Her parents.

Harry and Ron.

Hell, even Crookshanks at one point.

But, she's NEVER stayed up and counted breaths.

Then again...

This is her girlfriend.

Her other half.

Her soulmate.

...

Even years later, still at each other's side, after fighting every kind of cold imaginable.

Hermione still counted breaths.

And Y/n still told her to go to bed and stop putting her death into the universe.

Hermione would just laugh and go about her night, taking care of her lover the best she could.

Y/n eventually caught on to her counting habits, and would just stay up with her.

As you can imagine, this didn't help with the cold.

And sleeping during the day, when Hermione was at work, freaked her out more than Y/n imagined it would.

So, Y/n didn't stay up again.

Instead, she let her wife take care of her the way she always had.

With nothing but love and care.

And a little bit of anxiety.

Even after all those years, Hermione loved her more than anything.

And Y/n couldn't help but smile when a cough or sniffle came from her body.

It meant that her wife would show her so much care, even though she was never awake to witness it.

[ya-zz]

would you mind writing sigma with a praise kink?? thank you so much <33

SIGMA MY LOVE

Apologies this took awhile to get to, lovely! I hope I've done this some justice ♥

Sigma x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1317

Siebren was used to receiving praise, especially when it came to his work. His understandings of the universe and the stars above gained him quite a few compliments on the daily. He enjoyed it thoroughly and it even pushed him to keep going, to find out more about the endless abyss above. 

Although, over time, the praise was becoming quite tormenting to him, the same compliments being thrown at him slowly became mundane. He expected them now and they were no longer surprising. In fact, he would try to guess what the next words to come out of their mouths were.

“You’re really amazing, Professor!”

“Can’t wait for the next finding!” 

“Keep up the brilliant work!”

Among many more, they were drilled into his head, a symphony he couldn’t stop no matter how many times he would try to put his mind elsewhere. All he would do now was nod, smile and keep working, ignoring the comments that came. Each and every time he would wander the hallway, someone would say something, so he would plan his time to avoid everyone whenever possible. 

In fact, he was getting so tired of it, he hired an assistant to help him. He would stay in his lab while you would go on coffee runs and transport papers to others. You were his personal assistant, under one rule that you weren’t to compliment him. It confused you at first, but you agreed as you needed the money, and he was paying well. 

You would watch him write down some of the most mind boggling equations on the board at the front of the room, each of them confusing you more and more as you looked on. No matter how hard you would try to think to try to work it out, your mind would come back blank. 

Occasionally he would offer to teach you, but each time you declined, knowing that no matter how long you stared at the letters and numbers, it wouldn’t make sense.

All you could do was do run his errands during the day, go get his coffee, tea sometimes when he wasn’t in the mood for high caffeine, run some documents to other employees and bring him reports or books. Whatever he asked, you would do. Most days it was just the coffee run, other days it was hectic. You did your job well, and that’s all that mattered to both you and him. You stayed silent most days, only talking when he started the conversation, whatever it may be. 

Siebren grew quite fond of you as the weeks passed by. He enjoyed your company and he enjoyed the quietness. His mind was clearer than before and he managed to get quite a lot of work done since hiring you. 

He knew he made a good choice. You followed his orders immediately, and if you had any qualms, you were direct in telling him, rather than moping around. Siebren could work comfortably around you, and sometimes at the end of the day, he would partake in casual conversation with you, usually asking about your future plans or listening to your complaints from outside of work. 

Although he only had you as his assistant, you were more of a friend to him, and your presence was always welcome around his lab. 

Those weeks merged into months and the two of you grew closer. Close friends but not lovers. It was a calm and sweet feeling as the two of you continued to share stories about your past and Siebren of his findings. Yet you would refrain from complimenting him, and it irked you in ways he wouldn’t know. All you wanted to do was congratulate him on his new research, to praise him for all of the work he had been conducting recently but you saw the way his face soured after the countless compliments he’d receive whenever he walked to and from his lab. 

Just like every other day, you would enter the building, instantly grabbing yourself and Siebren coffee, sauntering through the hallways until you reached his lab, unlocking the door with the keycard he made for you and placing his cup down on his desk, mindful not to spill the contents on his papers. 

The professor was scrawling over the whiteboard, muttering incoherent words as he wrote, not seeming to notice you enter and stand next to him. You watched on, keeping your distance as to not distract him before he turns and smiles at you and then goes back to writing his equations. 

You move out of his way, sitting down and waiting for his order, slowly sipping on your drink as you continued to watch him. 

“Ah! Finally!” The professor exclaims after some time. He turns to you, eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights above as his smile grows. 

You look at him before looking at the board, nodding in little understanding. “You have spent weeks on this singular equation and you’ve finally cracked it, well done! I knew you could do it!” The smile on your face faltered slightly as you realised what you had just done, and the look the scientist gave you confirmed your fear. 

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as you avert your gaze, looking around before looking down at your hands. “I- I apologise.” You stammer, feeling his eyes still on you. 

Siebren stood there in shock before his shoulders relaxed. He didn’t know why but something felt different. Hearing the praise come from you felt right. His cheeks grew warm at the feeling, wanting to hear more of your praise.

“Say it again…” He voice was low but accent thick. “Please…” 

Your head shot up, the confusion clearly plastered on your face as your mouth opened. “I-I am proud of you, well done…” 

He stood there for a moment longer, face red and an awkward smile on his face. “Thank you, [y/n].” 

All you could do was nod, not knowing what else to say in the moment. Your eyes lock with his before he looks away, walking back to his desk to grab his coffee. He felt strange. Happy, almost. No, definitely happy. Excited, maybe. All he knew was that your praise to him was something he thoroughly enjoyed and wanted to hear more of it. 

He glances over at you, watching you as your eyes scan the whiteboard ahead, the confusion ever present on your face. Siebren chuckles to himself, leaning back against his desk. He had this pang of want and need in his chest as he stares at you, something inside of him burned and it wasn't the coffee. 

You caught him looking at you, cheeks warming up as you smile at him before looking away again, suddenly shy and timid. His smile grew on his face as he stood straight, your words echoing in his head as he grabs a handful of papers. 

“Perhaps you could deliver these for me?” He approaches you, handing the stack of papers to you. 

It caught you off guard, but you nodded, taking the papers from him as your fingers brushed his in the process. Both parties smiled gently before you stood and left the room. 

“No rush, take your time!” He called out to you, and for once, he wanted you to take your time. The professor watched you leave before he made his way into his private office at the back of his lab, locking the door behind him as he sat down at the desk in there. Your words continued to echo within his mind, overpowering every other thought as he slumps down in his chair, one hand ruffling his hair as he contemplated on what to do next. 

No matter what he thought about, you plagued his very mind. Words like a broken record, never ending and he loved it.

“I am proud of you, well done.”

[suuuupernovaaa]

fnu

fnu [fn·u] vin. quiet, be quiet

Anonymous Request: I was wondering if I could get a Neteyam x Metkayina reader where the reader is one of the best gardeners in the clan. She is usually quiet and just spends her time gardening and going swimming. People don’t notice her. That is until Neteyam asks about her and wants to help garden with her. They start to fall in love but the reader can’t understand why Neteyam would fall for someone as quiet, not as beautiful as Tsireya (in her eyes), and unimportant to the clan.

879 words

I rub the dirt off my knees as I stand up, smiling down at my work. Just a few minutes walk from our village lies one of our many vast gardens, and this one in particular is mine.

Not that I own it, per se, but everyone knows that this is the one I take care of - and I come here every day to take care of it. I dug up the dirt, ensured it was fertile, planted the seeds, and I tend to them daily. I harvest what's ready, remove weeds where necessary, and keep pests away.

Of all the gardens, mine bears the most to eat. Multiple times a week, I return with baskets of food, taking many trips to deliver it home. I don't think anyone notices, because I try not to call attention to myself, but I'm extremely proud of the work I've done.

Today, I have four large baskets bearing root vegetables to bring home to my clan, and my heart swells with pride.

"Do you need help with that?" someone asks as I bend down and pick up the first large basket. I turned and see the eldest Sully, Neteyam, approaching.

He's been visiting here lately. Almost every day, he ends up at my garden. Sometimes, he shows up when I take my long evening swims, too. We're running into each other so much.

I smile and thrust a basket into his hands, and he temporarily sags under the weight of it.

"Wow. You got a lot today!" he says, grinning at me, and my heart swells with pride.

As we walk, I talk about the vegetables we're carrying. When the best times are to plant them, how to encourage them to grow, how my people prepare them. Neteyam listens intently, even asking questions.

We return for a second trip, two more baskets to bring bag, and I find no end of information to tell him about my garden.

Only when we've dropped the second load off, do I realize how much I've been talking, and my cheeks grow hot. We're approaching the beach now, where I always go when I'm done for the day.

"Oh, Neteyam, I'm so sorry," I say.

He furrows his brow, looking concerned. "For what?"

"It's just... I don't talk to many people this much and I went on and on. You must be so bored."

His frown deepens and he shakes his head. "You're not only passionate and intelligent, but what you do benefits all your people. You should be proud. I will listen to you talk about it any time. Maybe if I learn, I can help you."

I tilt my head to the side. "You would help me?"

Neteyam reaches out, hesitantly at first, and grabs my hand. My eyes widen in shock. Has it not been a coincidence that Neteyem has visited my garden so frequently, or interrupted my swims so often? Has he been trying to spend time around me?

It's hard to believe. Though I do find value in my quiet days, I didn't think anyone else had noticed. I'm quiet, quite possibly a little shy, nothing like the other women of the clan, especially Tsireya, who I know the Sully boys have been spending time with. If anyone would have caught their eye, it surely would be here, one of my oldest friends.

"I would be honored to learn more about what you do. And just... about you."

The blush in my cheeks deepens, and I turn away, trying not to smile too widely. It's too much to dream that someone like Neteyam could have interest in someone like me.

"I would be honored to teach you," I finally reply, stammering only a little. He reaches out, pressing his fingers against my chin, turning my eyes to meet his.

He is smiling at me, and I can feel it, and see it in his eyes - admiration. Has he always looked at me like this, and I have been too busy staring at the dirt to realize? I feel equal parts flattered and foolish.

"Neteyam, do you actually have an interest in gardening?" I ask, a teasing smile on my face.

He laughs, just a small chuckle, and we grin at each other. "At first... no. But, watching you these past weeks, listening to you talk, I can say safely that I am no longer just interested in the gardener."

I will simply burst if he ever says anything like that again. Unsure of what else to do, I close the gap between us, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my head into his firm, broad chest.

"Thank you," I whisper as he tightly wraps his arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly to him.

"For what?" he asks.

I look up at him, my chin on his chest. "Noticing me."

He places a soft, warm kiss on my forehead. "You may be quiet, but you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You were impossible not to notice."

A heat that has been only in my chest spreads through every limb, to my toes and fingertips, and I feel lightheaded. All I can do is cling to this man and thank Ewya for bringing him to my garden.

[trashlie]

Love and Deepspace Thoughts

I promised some thoughts about Love and Deepspace and we're a week into the game and I think I can finally ramble about it for a while. I've been immensely enjoying myself and screaming daily with my friends lol and I think I've been able to formulate my thoughts pretty well! Idk how many people actually wanna read this, but I always love to have a record of my thoughts - especially something this early in game, because knowing papergames, there's going to be so much angst, so many twists and turns, and I'm already seeing a lot of threads of how things could play out and I like to be able to look back and see how wrong I was lol.

I play on the North American server and have completed chapter 7, so this will be full of spoilers for story content, as well as a lot of spoilers for anecdotes, tender moments, and some of the myth stuff - I'll try to denote where I'll mention certain spoilers in case you're trying avoid certain things, but it'd be impossible to write all of my sincere thoughts and capture all of what I really love and am looking forward to without spoilers, unfortunately.

Below will have a lot of thoughts on the current LIs as well as speculation about the 2 coming LIs, as well as their dynamics, and further speculation on where I think - or maybe just would like to see - the story could be going. To be clear, I have not cleared all anecdotes or myths, as I'm trying to savor things and good lord I cannot pull all those cards; a lot of this is compilation between my experiences as well as @poisonheart and further things I've read and discussed in the server. I will also be approaching this as a longtime player of MLQC, papergames' other otome game, because I cannot help but see the comparisons between the game and sing the praises of where I feel like they've grown and refined, but I don't think you'll need to have played MLQC to read this - you can honestly just ignore those bits lol >A<

What I can outright, sans spoilers, say is that I'm really enjoying Love and Deepspace so much and I think that it's come at a really good time for me, personally, as a MLQC player, because there's so much in game that's been completed and we're basically going through the motions doing our dailies, waiting for our new chapter events or participating in the occasional events (if you aren't hoarding resources for SP wish tree events) so it feels SO refreshing to dive into a new game that takes place in the same universe/world but have so much new stuff to uncover, so much new lore, new characters to meet and get to know. In MLQC I have a very clear favorite, but so far in LADS, I find that while I think I might have a favorite, I really enjoy all three LIs so much and I don't feel bad when I pull someone else's card, because it means I get to gobble all the lore! I don't feel like "UUUGGHH THIS GUY" when we get to X's chapter route. Perhaps it's just that LADS really caters to specific tropes and cliches in a way that I enjoy, but I feel so much like they've done these characters great justice! This goes for the MC, too, who doesn't feel at all like a cookie cutter MC meant to be a stand in for our own self-insert, but rather has a lot of personality of her own, is feisty and discerning.

Also, I gotta give a lot of props to the character customization features. I understand why people are upset that you can only change your hair and hair color in the photobooth function, but we rarely see MC out of that feature - so much of the game is in first person POV - and the times that we do see her, she's seen from the back, so maintaining the same hair for all characters allows them to keep something they can use for her stand in in such scenarios. But the customization is legit nuts! You can do so much with it, I spent so long tweaking mine the day before the game launched! I want to make side accounts I will never play just to play with that function lol

But let's get into the good stuff!

I really cannot sing the praises for the LIs enough, and that's going to be the bulk of what I'll talk about, because even this early in game, there's so much nuance to the LIs in both their characters as well as their dynamics with MC. Everyone brings a little something different to the table, and with what little we know of the upcoming LIs, I think even if for some reason the current LIs don't work for people, maybe the new ones might? But personally, I am so invested in all three of them! While I think I have a definite ranking in favor forming, it's not like it means I dislike any of them at all, and I'm always so eager to learn more!

One thing I'd like to mention before getting into it is that I love the inclusion of the myth cards, and though they are treated as alternate universes, I think it's more like they are previous or parallel timelines, but I'll try to get into that a little more as I talk about the characters!

From what I can see so far, I think Rafayel is one of the more popular fans with the North American/English-speaking fanbase - and it's not hard to see why! He's sassy, provides good comedy, he's fun to bully, and he's really pouty. I had a feeling he would be my favorite from the get go, just because I tend to have a thing for really pathetic men lmao and I have SUCH a fondness for him. I said I think I have a ranking forming, but it feels WRONG to rank them because that's how much I really like them, but if I had to, Rafayel's #2 position is really, REALLY close to #1! But the thing is, it's not just because of all of those traits above. I'd argue that he's one of the characters who has a lot of iceberg depth, as in there's a lot of depth to him that may get ignored or glossed over because of the sass and brattiness that accompanies, or even masks, it. As poisonheart puts it, the comedy hides the pain - and Rafayel comes with a LOT of pain! There's a delicious complexity to him where he is one part needy and clingy, but also one part resentful and hurt. MC made a promise that she doesn't recall - whether it was in this life or another - and you really get the sense that Rafayel wants to settle the score, but at the same time his feelings get in the way of those bitter, hurt feelings, and I really enjoy this complexity a lot! I think it elevates all of the sassiness, gives it a purpose and meaning.

Take his Nightly Stroll Bond: on the one hand it comes across as comedic and even manipulative -and it is! But when you get into it, you understand why. That's not to say if I think there's justification for manipulation because that's not what I'm here for; I'm just here for a good time and a good time I'm having. But when Rafayel says "It's been 800 years!" I don't think that's an exaggeration - he just isn't talking about just the day that he waited. Is faking an injury/illness and checking himself into a hospital overkill? Sure lol but that's what makes him so delightful to me. There's all of this hurt and unaddressed resentment, but as much as that, there's all of these feelings! Because even though he's hurt, he CARES about MC, SO MUCH. That's the problem! It would be easier if he didn't care, but he does. He's so needy, so clingy, he wants her attention because he's waited for so long while she was off, having forgotten him, living a life that abandoned and left him behind while he waited and waited and listen ;~; my stinky fish man I'm so sorry I cannot wait for her to learn the truth. I want to know SO BADLY what happened! When did they meet, anyway? He makes a comment on the homescreen when he's sulking lol about "See you in three months... three minutes, landlubber"

HOW LONG DID HE WAIT FOR HER IF ONE MINUTE IS ONE MONTH TO HIM?!

And listen, idk what anyone else thinks, but the end of chapter 7 had me in my FEELINGS, with the way he tried to leave her at the bottom of the ocean - but he couldn't, because of their promise, because he's unable to go back on it, because even though she forgot all about him and their promise and went about her life without a memory of him, he can't do that. It's the hurt! It's the resentment! It's the confliction between his feelings, because it seems like they take up equal space - his hunger for her attention, for what feels like she was so fickle to give and take away, the way she meant so much to him and he feels like it wasn't the same ;A;

(I've contemplated how possible it is that they met when she was younger, before she was attacked in the Wanderer incident 14 years ago, and if that could somehow have affected her memory, but I feel like it must be something greater, because seeing the fish glow in his heart means the vow they made was binding, so something strong must've caused her to forget. But that's also why I've contemplated if this was in another life? I'm less sure about this, because in Rafayel's second anecdote, he crosses paths with MC at university, though of course she doesn't recognize or recall him, and he specifically recognizes her voice. "Though her voice has matured, her pronunciation, enunciation, the rhythm of her speech, and even the emphasis in her sentences... Every word strikes like a drumbeat, awakening long-buried memories in his mind" It feels more likely that it happened while they were younger. Also I feel like this passage really encompasses her significance, that he can recall these details, to recognize them after so much time ;~; stinky fish you make my heart ache ;~;)

I appreciate so much that they've given Rafayel so much depth, that under the comedy of his pathetic, sulky exterior is so much reason for it, that there's an undercurrent of resentment and something dark - after all, we haven't actually uncovered what happened with the painting and Raymond. We saw the mermaid skeleton in his house - was Rafayel seeking revenge for his people?

But Rafayel also shows tremendous emotional sensitivity, in ways that sometimes catch me off guard. I distinctly remember lol sitting in shock after 4-3, and the text from Rafayel that pops up asking MC if she got the thing, telling her about how he asked a seagull to send a white seallshell why hasn't it arrived yet lol and I remember going "NOT NOW RAFAYEL READ THE ROOM ;~;" and then he goes on, telling her "if you draw on it and put it into the ocean the sea will carry the feelings you poured into the drawing to the soul you yearn for" and I just started SOBBING lol ;~; It was just so.... poignant but so simple. He didn't say I'm sorry for your loss or my condolences or anything like that - it was his own chaotic, weird method, but it was sincere. Likewise, he shows that similar sincerity in Ocean At Night, despite initially dismissing paper lanterns as silly human traditions - a lantern will be blown out why would you put all your hope in something so fleeting - coming around to using his own flame, that will never go out, to light a lantern for MC with the prayer that her hopes will never go out. ;~; Listen, I cried. I was TENDER my heart was soggy ;~;

And while I know people love a good pathetic man and enjoy chaotic sass and the fact that we really, truly NEVER know where his plots are going to go lmao - always an adventure with him - I hope they appreciate that depth and don't disavow the darker elements of him that give reason to those core elements of him. Rafayel is a character that carries his hurt and bitterness on his sleeve, rather than hiding it or shoving it away, and I really look forward to exploring it and all the messiness it has to offer, and how it will play out for MC.

On the very far end of the spectrum is Zayne. He's the character I expected to not be too fond of, so I was so pleasantly surprised as we got to know him to find myself proven wrong! I expected him to be... hm... I guess colder? More prickly? Than he turns out to be? And, admittedly, he is still rather aloof and cold on the surface, but I think it helps that he and MC have that history and that we are introduced very early to them through the A Frozen Promise Bond. It made it readily apparent that Zayne was not a cold and aloof person because he was too lofty or something but rather... it just seemed like maybe he'd been someone more awkward when he was younger, someone who didn't know how to connect very well with the daughter of this family friend, but he still tried. The snow seal took me out, you guys ;~; I never moved on from that!!!!!!

Despite seeming so cold, there's a certain kind of warmth to Zayne, just under the surface. He shows his care and concern in the ways he knows best, as MC's PCP, caring about her well being and health, but their Tender Moments are a collection of wonderful moments showing them growing closer, getting to know each other better as people, as friends and equals. For the record, Starry Nocturne hurt me so much, but it did two things I thought were so important. a. It showed that he was not infallible, which I think is very important, because often characters are written in their roles as geniuses who never fail, or else accomplish the impossible, and to see him lose a patient, while painful to read, made him so human but also b. It gave him that moment of vulnerability with MC where he could lean on her. It's so, SO important! for a MI to be able to lean on the MC, I feel, for them to be those equals, for him to be able to be vulnerable with her, but especially so for a character like Zayne who feels very reserved and closed off.

MC makes statements about feeling like there's distance between her and Zayne, especially when they first come back into each others' lives for the first time, so getting to indulge in these little Tender Moments of them taking little steps towards each other, closing that gap between them, is so satisfying! Having that history gives them a dynamic unlike Rafayel or Xavier's with her, because she has her memories of their childhood, of who he was when they were younger, and who they are now, and can compare the warmth of him opening up, of the chuckles and laughter she elicits from him. They also have this kind of flirtship I really enjoy - something very coy, not in an uwu so shy way just.... very coy, both dancing around the bush, before one of them calls it what it is - I thought the A Heartfelt Paradise Tender Moment a really good example of this!

It's so easy to read Zayne as being cold and aloof, but he really does have so much warmth, he just isn't good at showing it. He doesn't wear things on his sleeves like Rafayel or MC. But good LORD when he's in private....!!!!!!! The Business Trip Memoria TOOK. ME. OUT!!!!!! This is the game launch and they're already throwing this at us?! It was, to me, such a mature kind of date to give us? Two people who have had to grow used to each other's absence in their lives, and continue having to make space for those absences, as both are busy people - Zayne, a dedicated cardiac surgeon and MC a hunter - and what it means to grow used to the absence and to miss each other. But listen - when MC got in his lap?! She was touching his mouth? His face?! "What did you want me to do, in front of all those people?" he asked her? SIR?!

HELLO?! Girl. Listen.

I had to fan myself alfjkkfkjafjkafkjaf lmao

I looooooove them for that element of normalcy - for the people who have important careers and lives that they have to attend to, but still find the room for each other in their lives. The implication that Zayne rushed his way through school, took on grueling workloads and lacked a social life amongst classmates much older than him, not because he loved learning or even because he was so dedicated to his career - but because it was his way back to MC, so that he could return to stand in front of her? GOD. HOW DO YOU MOVE ON FROM THAT? HOW DO YOU HANDLE THAT? Knowing that he did it all so that he could stand in front of you again? HOWLING pls LISTEN.

Zayne may feel cold on the surface, but he is SO warm, he cares so much. And not just about MC, either. Thank God, too, because I'm not huge on the "Cold man only cares about the woman he loves" type, but Zayne cares so much about his patients, and making sure they feel seen, cared about? His first anecdote had me crying about seniors in hospitals with no relatives to accompany them to their examinations ;~; What a man.

I haven't had a chance to dig into his myth yet, which is a shame, but his third anecdote DID destroy me. I'm not even exaggerating, I was sobbing in my bedroom - and the worst part is I knew it would be painful going in and I still wasn't braced for impact enough! I mean, frankly, both his second and third hurt but nothing like the third! Parallel universe Zayne in a grim reaper role where he must kill humans turning into Wanderers - so very opposite the surgeon version of him who does everything he can to save people, both of them living parallel lives to each other, experiencing each others' lives through their dreams/nightmares. THIS HAS ME SCREAMING!!!!!

So much of MLQC has a lot to do with timelines - parallel worlds, some alternate universes, a whole timeline that's technically the same timeline reset but also still moving forward...... lol I can't help but think about where all of this fits in to LADS. Even though the Myth storylines are taken as alternate universes.... I think they're part of everyone's stories. We see echos of them. I haven't finished Rafayel's but even little moments, like making a break for it and having to run to escape attention echos a scene of Rafayel and the Princess MC making a mad dash in the market alley to escape the palace guards. It feels especially true for Xavier and MC, which I'll get to. But especially with Zayne - whose myth, again, I haven't been able to dig into, but seems to pose him as a sort of god, a forseer - we have two very different timelines/events now: his myth/Philos story and his parallel Grim Reaper self. How many timelines/parallel universes are we playing with, I wonder....?

I really want to revisit this in the future when I do get to dig into his myth, because I can see how Rafayel and Xavier's myths tie into their identities and their dynamics with MC, but I don't know yet how any of that works for Zayne and MC! I'm so intrigued, I can't wait!!!!

And finally, Xavier. God, I should have known lol in retrospect I should have realized Xavier would be my weak spot but listen..... sometimes I gotta lie to myself lol I love everything about him, the seemingly gentle eepy man who is also simultaneously a walking weapon of mass destruction but also so easily stumped by a UFO machine lol. Much like Rafayel, I'm especially fond of him because of the depth and dynamics, but also, honestly, much like Rafayel, he just checks all the boxes. Poisonheart puts it best when she says Xavier is the perfect middle-ground of the two - he's not as sassy as Rafayel is, but he'll still roast MC, he's very grounded and comes off a little aloof sometimes, but he doesn't seem nearly as aloof as Zayne, and he's also really unintentionally funny! He plays the middle-ground of them SO well. And where Zayne was working hard in order to show up in front of MC again and Rafayel has a score to settle but also so much neediness, it feels like Xavier has a LOT of karma to make up for.

Now, I personally don't have his myth cards, but poisonheart does, so everything I know I've experienced via her and all of our hours of screaming lol and the thing that really gets me the most about Xavier and MC is like..... okay it's the way he's clearly this really incredibly strong guy, but he plays the submissive prey role so well? lol He begs if she tells her to, he doesn't resist, he indulges her, he plays along - but when the mood strikes, he'll pull the dominant switch and flip the table and alkfjlFKJKAFJ ALKJFAF LAKJFAKFKJFAJ AFLKJD GODDDDDDDD IT GETS TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Xavier has that sense of like.... everything for MC, right? Like he's making up for a lifetime. There's implications that maybe he's been searching through space and time for her, trying to find her, that they've lost and each other countless times before - or rather, she's lost him - and his Shooting Stars myth supports this. Sometimes it's really subtle, sometimes it stands out so much I'm in agony. She remarks so often how he feels so distant, like he's as out of reach and mysterious as a star. She has nightmares about him disappearing and he is incredibly reassuring about staying, about not leaving. And maybe I'm reading into it, but he even talks about her hanging on tight, like maybe if she's strong enough, she can keep him from ever being taken away, keep them from being separated this time.

He's also the one who feels like he's actually endured all the years. Rather than separate timelines or parallel worlds it feels like Xavier has actually traveled through space and time, like he's the same Xavier from the myth himself, which makes him talking about the loneliness of stars so much worse. How long has he been alone, searching for her? ;~;

But their dynamic just really gets to me - it's those echos, the way MC subconsciously acts on them, and how indulgent Xavier is towards her. It's the playful teasing and the gentleness and how he plays so submissive and docile but when the mood strikes he can switch it up and catch her (and me!!!) off guard. It's the way he texts LMAO never writing out you or one lmao (which is marginally better than Rafayel's COMPLETE LACK OF PUNCTUATION LMAO ALFKAJFKJAFKJAFKJAFJK) It's the way he has that innocent baby face and could absolutely get away with murder.

Initially I had contemplated if it was possible he is actually a star and while maybe that isn't true I am still not certain he's human - at least he's not from our world (especially if he really is the very Xavier from the myth) but I still like to think of him as one, because he wears the star motif so well and likens himself to one so often. Also, look, I am a SUCKER for a star motif. I was doomed from the start lol.

There's just something about the agony and TRAGEDY in their past, in the echos, the subconscious fears, and the sheer indulgence!!!!! It's MC telling Xavier he might be her enemy later and the distress it caused him, prompting him to share his access privileges with her to earn her trust ;A; It's the way he's apparently spent DECADES, at the VERY LEAST, on our earth AND HE'S A TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE COOK lmaoooooooo it's the stupid little lines he says because he's not as overtly clingy and pouty as Rafayel but an armful of plushies is a dreadful thing because then he doesn't have a free hand to hold MC's hand !!!!!!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS?! WHINES

I could write a whole essay about Xavier and I'm restraining myself and attempting to be really, really normal about him okay?

But yeah for him it's that depth of like... the guilt and agony he carries - because not only does leaving her hurt him, but it hurts himself, too. That unbearable loneliness, the endless wait, hoping, wondering, unsure of when, or if, he'll find her again, but refusing to give up - and when he does, endeavoring to make up for it. Like, as it is, there's something about strong men being submissive that is so lakkjfkafkjfkjaf alfjakfaf but it's the way Xavier does it with MC that is soooooo INDULGENT, so VERY "for you, because it's you" that makes me want to chew my keyboard and howl at the moon and every time he reassures her he won't leave I feel dread but also I want it to be true.

I know how papergames operates. I know Xavier may mean it, but I also know.... ;A;

And to think, this is all JUST THE LAUNCH STUFF! We haven't even passed chapter 8 yet lmao We don't even have all our LIs! We've (maybe?) yet to meet our antagonist? WHICH I'M EXCITED ABOUT BTW

Listen.

I have some thoughts and I'll try to keep them short (yknow, for me) because this is already long and rambly and maybe I can just expand on this later but: Sylus and Caleb are confirmed as LIs right? But are they the same person or not??????

If Sylus = Caleb it gives us a LOT of potential for exploring some really complex, grey morality. I mean, no matter what, Sylus is going to bring grey morality lol but especially if it turns out Caleb is actually secretly the leader of Onychinus, because it brings that whole "Who is this person I thought I knew?" and more so because Onychinus is poised as an enemy to the Hunter's Association.

But something Papergames has done in MLQC and I fully expect them to do here is explore grey morality, not only in Onychinus, but the Hunter's Association. Xavier's Tender Moments Garden of Secrets brings up the implication that some Wanderers are, in fact, intelligent, and while it's rare, it can occur. And with parallel world Grim Reaper Zayne having to kill people before they turn into Wanderers it begs the question of this world: can that happen here, too? And it gets into the moral conundrums. That's not to say the Hunter's Association are bad for killing Wanderers and protecting people but it starts to bring up questions, because in Grim Reaper Zayne's world, this is being covered up. What about this world? There's also the question of what is Onychinus even doing? I fully expect to find that whatever their objective is, it will be a question of the greater good and if the ends justify the means and the such.

Ultimately, an antagonist LI has to be sympathetic in some fashion, because how else are they going to write the story for them lol. Like they can certainly have Bond/Memoria/Tender Moments that are more about the combative element of their relationship meeting the chemistry that draws them to each other, but at any rate, there has to be something that draws them to each other and makes them care, right? So therefore, he can't be entirely bad, or at least MC has to be able to empathize with him and his objective, or the cause of it or something like that.

If Caleb = Sylus, that might be more achievable because of their history, but obviously that isn't a requirement, and that can also make it more complex, because again, that whole "this person I thought I knew".

I think there's a possibility for that overlap partly because we already have a LI with a history with MC - but to be fair, Zayne's history with MC is very different than Caleb's and has a different dynamic, so even if they didn't give him the villain route, it would still play out very differently and give them a significantly different enough dynamic that I don't think it would be a big issue.

If he's not Sylus, then there's still a lot of avenues to explore with Caleb. They've already implied that Caleb wants to take care of MC, wants her to lean on him and let him play that role for him, to stop being so strong in front of him, and I think that could very well affect his story and what has lead to his "death". Being in the airforce makes me wonder if it's possible that the military is associated in any way with Onychinus - after all, didn't he say that he does top secret work involving the deepspace tunnel, and isn't Onychinus interested in that? It wouldn't be the first time a government agency was written as being corrupt lol (and again there could be a lot gray morality here where Onychinus isn't necessarily inherently bad). Caleb could have gotten involved simply by his job.

There's the revenge angle, if he, too, was an experiment subject (which would make sense because why did Granny take him in as well?) and wanting to get back at? the people who experimented on them. Or wanting to be more involved? A spy case? SO many possibilities and I'm really excited to see where it all goes!

I think regardless of how Caleb is reintroduced to the story, I imagine there's going to be some kind of conflict - his "death" and then reappearance.... did he know that was going to happen? was it planned? was he involved? I don't think they'll bring him back and yay! now she has a family member back but I think there will be some kind of strife to work through, some good ol angst that really plays with the dynamic of feeling hurt and betrayed but wanting to return to the old times that can never be returned to, wanting to seek refuge in someone who maybe doesn't exist anymore, being drawn to someone you cared so much about and feeling so conflicted about it alfkjkfjkjafjkaf kj

I JUST HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS!!!!!!!!!!

This is such a rambling mess so kudos to anyone who made it this far. Maybe I'll manage to write some more bitesized thoughts later @___@