#this is uh .

[sealsdaily]

Can we get a list of seal species that haven't been posted so we can make bingo sheets? :)

I saw this ask and briefly got really excited and almost started making my own then reread. Anyways!

Crabeater seal

Galapagos sea lion

South American sea lion

Brown fur seal

Subantarctic fur seal

Guadalupe fur seal

Juan Fernandez fur seal

Galapagos fur seal

Antipodean fur seal (Kekeno)

South American fur seal

[nightmarearian]

blood dripped from Poseidon's mouth, red.

red.

the day they overthrew Kronos, child-eater (stomach acid crawling around them, after maw of teeth grazing his small, child body), his golden ichor bled red.

god blood, degraded into a mortal's.

the day Typhon, father of monsters (as big as their father was, as big as the Titans with sharp claws and teeth) ripped out Zeus' tendons, his blood was red.

Poseidon, god of the tides, son of Kronos, looked up at the dark shape stood above him, his own golden trident in his hand, the teeth like prongs drenched in red.

Odysseus is a mortal. was a human.

sharp webbed ears spread out on the side of their head, scales grew around their neck and arms, shining like a coral reef, illuminated by their growing red eyes, that were shrunken to slits.

Odysseus' teeth glinted in the lightning, showing their unnaturally sharp point.

monster.

[luckycharms1701]

A request to fill the (bay) Mikey well, perhaps? We can see he's quick to flirt and be cheeky, but what about a reader that's not used to that, so instead of the typical eye roll reaction hes used to, it actually flusters them?

anon-chan. you get me.

i have been highkey vibrating about this ask ever since it showed up in my askbox. let’s gooooo

It starts as an experiment.

He noticed it right away. Literally at your first meeting. All he did was call you ‘angelcakes’ and you immediately looked away with a bright red face. Honestly it takes him aback a bit. He had never gotten that reaction before.

So he takes a page from Donnie’s book and starts to experiment. Was it a nickname thing, or would a wink elicit the same response? He finds out that winking makes you blush and lower your eyes. What about a flirty line? He has to hold back a laugh when his “If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple!” is met with you simply walking out of the room.

So what starts as an experiment turns into a game. How many times can he get you to blush in a one hour period without you getting exasperated and leaving? His record is ten, but he hopes to surpass that. Can he get you to lose your train of thought mid-sentence by blowing you a kiss or running a hand down your arm? Yes and yes! Can he make you stutter by staring at your lips while you talk? Oh absolutely.

Slowly, without him really noticing, the game takes over more and more of his life. He finds himself thinking about it at the oddest times, like when he’s in the middle of playing a video game or jerking off. He spends hours coming up with new pickup lines, ones more tailored to you. He still loves to see you blush, but prefers it when he catches you holding back a smile. He finds himself aiming more and more for that smile, becoming addicted to the elated feeling it gives him.

He finally notices on the day you strike back. He’s dropped another line and is basking in the satisfaction of your blush (number 10 baby, and he has a whole ten minutes to get number 11!) when you take a deep breath and turn back to him. Your blush is somehow darker, your eyes are lowered, and you are wringing your hands. He immediately feels guilty, and he opens his mouth to apologize and say he’ll stop teasing you, but you beat him to the punch.

“I-If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.” You immediately turn around and speed walk out of the room, too flustered to even look at him. If you had, you would have seen him frozen in place, jaw dropped, hand stretched out towards you.

Mikey wonders, suddenly, if he might have played himself.

~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic

[dannythedog]

Oh

[ghost-museum]

detrimentally horny

[eggs-can-draw]

2nd year sumi laying down the law

[misarumis]

Welcoming the Night With You, a short comic series about Teredio's first time

yeah, unfortunately ill probably have to upload this page by page, otherwise ill never get it done... i hope itll be enjoyable either way!

[spagheddiediaz]

wip wednesday / tease tuesday ~

HI it's been a minute since i posted one of these (or been on here) i'd love to blame my job but it is unfortunately seasonal depression beginning! yay!

anyway here's a little silliness from my 5+1 fic <3

_

“How’s Buck?” May asks with a smirk on her face. 

Eddie jumps at the sudden presence in the doorway, his phone nearly flying out of his hand. He still wasn’t used to working a desk job, and was still getting used to everything it entailed. Mediocre coffee, one-ply toilet paper (sociopaths), and people (May and Linda) barging into his office every twenty minutes or so to ask questions that could very easily be sent through that weird Microsoft app that IT installed on his computer against his will a few weeks.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” She says sweetly, but her knowing smirk still hasn’t faded. 

“You said that yesterday. And the day before.” Eddie points out, unable to stop himself from glancing down at his phone. Again. “You never answered my question.” She makes her way into the office, leaning against his desk as she tries to sneak a glance at his phone, which Eddie promptly clicks off as soon as she’s close enough to be able to read anything.

Eddie rolls his eyes and tosses his phone onto his desk. “That was Carla.” He says a little too confidently. 

“Is that why Bobby just called me and told me to come in here and ask you politely to stop texting Buck because he’s behind on chores?" She asks innocently, glancing at Eddie's phone which right on cue, lights up with another message from Buck.

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. "You call this polite?"

-

tagged by: @callmenewbie @fionaswhvre @forthewolves @disasterbuckdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @hippolotamus @jeeyuns @king-buckley

tagging @shitouttabuck (hi nina <3) @daffi-990 @brokenribsdiaz @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz (hi ry baby) and anyone else i'm missing ok thank you <3

[lizstiel]

ok

[mahs-dumpster]

a/n: idk what I'm doing with my life tbh I'm just like. Writing tons of scenarios without stopping. Anyways this was like made ages ago and I just decided to give it a proper ending... Anyways once again posting this and running away

🏷️: @viilpstick @justm3di0cr3

cw: oc x canon (Leona x Isabelle), banter, uhhh idk man denial of feelings?

words: 2300+

Dividers.

Obsession.

“I hope you do realize you're absolutely obsessed with her.” Ruggie stated as he finished folding Leona's clothes and putting them in their rightful drawer. The man in question laid in bed with a raised eyebrow completely confused.

“What?”

“With Isabelle-san. You’ve been talking about her for the last hour I’ve been here folding your clothes.” Ruggie got up, grabbing the basket filled with dirty clothes from both him and Leona — he wasn't gonna complain if Leona let him wash his clothes with his. “Actually, you’ve been talking about her during Spelldrive practice as well.”

“I wasn't talking about her, I was complaining.” The prince huffed as he crossed his arms, looking at the smaller one. 

“Excessively. I'm so tired of hearing about her I think I'll physically cringe next time I see her. Which is bad… she likes me enough to give me special treatment…” Ruggie sighed as Leona sat down to look at him incredulously.

“Because she always has a bone to pick with me. She's always on my case.”

“I'm always on your case and you don't talk about me nearly as much, do you?”

“You do stuff for me. She just irritates me.”

“Well, ok. Vil-san irritates you and is always on your case, do you talk as much about him as you do with Isabelle-san?” Leona shut his mouth, rolling his eyes and rolling to the other side of the bed, his back facing Ruggie as the hyena beastman sighed. “One way or another you’ll have to accept it. It ain't that bad, really, at least you know you’ll stay together regardless, while I– nevermind. ‘night, boss.” and the boy left before any melancholic thoughts could’ve been voiced, while Leona stayed there on his bed, eyebrows furrowed as he clicked his tongue.

Let's say, in the imaginary scenario that Ruggie created, that Leona was, in fact, a bit obsessed with his fiancée. What would happen then? Sure, they were getting married in 3 year's time, but that wouldn't change how Isabelle felt, and she despised him. And he despised her as well. Obviously. Surely. 

Leona groaned in annoyance and covered his face with his pillow, trying to force himself to go to sleep and ignore the annoying questions Ruggie planted in his head.

“Sit up straight, has your father taught you no proper etiquette?” 

“Oh shut it.” Leona basically growled but his fiancée showed no fear, in actuality, she seemed even more fierce, glaring at him as if demanding an apology. He didn't give it to her through words, but he rolled his eyes and waved his hand, and she nodded, not entirely pleased but it would do. 

After that day Leona didn't want to see Isabelle, in fact, he’s made it his life mission to avoid her when they had joint school activities, and ignored her calls — more than usual. But sitting in a limousine? With her? All the way from the mirror to the palace at Sunset Savannah? He simply couldn't avoid her.

“So.” Isabelle began, and he got ready for a scolding. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I'm not.”

“You barely spoke to me the last time our schools had an event.”

“I was busy.”

“You ignored all of my calls, even the ones from the viewglasses.”

“I probably didn't see it. Can we get it over with?”

“No.” She insisted, a frown prevalent in her pretty face. “What's up with you all of a sudden? If I said something to upset you, you must tell me.”

“You upset me just by looking in my direction.” He glared back and Isabelle stared at him for a moment. She sighed and looked outside the window.

“I see.” She merely said. “I shall not look at you today if it upsets you this much.”

…Did he go too far?

He watched as her small hands were locked together, one of them kept making motions on the other one, like pulling the sleeve of her dress, pinching her skin lightly and scratching it as well. Leona moved his gaze upwards to the back of her head, unable to see her expression. 

Maybe he did go a bit too far.

Isabelle said stuff like this constantly to him tho! Like, come on now, he had way more right to be upset, she was usually the one starting fights! In fact, this whole thing started because he couldn't stop complaining about a fight she initiated!! 

Leona clicked his tongue, his demeanor shifted from being uncomfortable in her presence for being annoyed with himself. Why did he even say that? It wasn't even true. Maybe it was in the beginning, but not anymore. Isabelle was irritating, always bossing him around and testing his patience, but she didn't pry when he closed off when the subject of his family showed up, she cheered for him during Spelldrive matches, — well, more like threatened him because she didn't want to be engaged to a loser — and defended him to people who dared to bad mouth him. 

The issue of being or not obsessed with her didn't matter any longer. He needed to fix the situation.

Gently, Leona grabbed one of her hands and held it tight, and the girl looked at it in confusion, especially because Leona refused to make eye contact and just looked outside. 

“I lied.” Leona simply said, and he felt Isabelle relax next to him. “I'm dealing with some issues. Just let me be for a while.”

Isabelle huffed as she intertwined their fingers. “You could’ve said so from the start, moron. Take your time, just know I'm here to listen if you need me.”

“‘kay.” He whispered, his thumb caressing her hand, as the girl got a bit closer to him, deciding to hold his hand with both of hers. 

He wondered if she truly meant it, if he were to say what he truly thought of her, if she should accept him. In moments like this, Leona would let his ego aside, and pretend that they were truly in a real, loving relationship.

The guards were ordered to guide Isabelle to her room for the time they stayed there, while Leona refused his — it was his home, why would he need a bunch of guards to show him where his room was?

Almost as soon as he arrived at his room, he flopped himself onto his bed, only taking off his shirt to feel a bit more free and comfortable. Back at the same place he ran away from… he resented everytime he had to go back home. He was proud of his country, yes, but the palace carried too many memories, painful ones in fact… every hallway made him remember the servants talking about how useless he was, every dinner was a display of uplifting his brother while putting him down, every smile from Cheka showed Leona he could never be number one.

He was tired already. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe if he slept now, his brother would think he was actually tired, and let him skip dinner. It wasn't likely, but it was worth trying.

And so he did. Leona slept for hours in his room, a few servants tried to wake him up while knocking at his door but to no avail. Until, of course, Isabelle.

“Leona, wake–” She said, not caring to knock on the door but stopping midway and turning her head away from his form. “Put on a shirt, will you?”

“As far as I'm aware, this is my room.” Leona mumbled, his voice tired as he stirred in bed, his tail getting closer to him. “Could’ve knocked.”

“If I knocked you wouldn't have let me in.” She made a point and sighed, deciding to turn to him again despite her embarrassment. She walked close to him, hands on her hips. “Come on, dinner’s about to be served.”

“Then tell them I was too tired to show up.” He frowned slightly, his eyes still closed as he turned away from her. “Let me be.”

Isabelle sighed, scratching her head, unsure of what to do. “Cheka will miss you, he’s been talking about you all day.”

No response.

“Come on now, I can't show up without you and you know that! Stop being like this.”

Once again, no response.

Isabelle puffed out her cheeks in annoyance as she decided to take a look around his room. It was cleaner than she thought, but then again, of course it would be, the servants had time to clean his room without the giant cat to mess everything up. The bookshelf caught her attention, as she walked towards it she saw a few books she had never read before, a lot of them weren't fiction, but rather about topics too advanced even for NRC or RSA. She reached out for one book, opening it with curiosity.

“I had no idea you had an interest in geology.” Isabelle said, sitting at the end of his bed as she continued to read. “I guess there's a lot of stuff I still don't know about you.”

Leona sighed, finally sitting up as he scratched his head. Isabelle kept her eyes on the book, scared her gaze would betray her once she looked at him. “I guess."

He finally opened his eyes, and blinked a few times to be sure he wasn't seeing things. Right there in front of him, was Isabelle, half of her hair tied up in a bun as the rest was free, her clothes were from Sunset Savannah, no doubt, and they seemed to fit her perfectly, almost as if they belonged to her. His quietness made Isabelle curious, so despite her embarrassment, she looked up to him, lifting an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Where’d you get that?"

“Oh.” She looked at herself, her face pink as she let out a small smile, happy he noticed. “Your sister-in-law, she said she bought this for me a while ago, had it custom made too.” She closed the book, touching the fabric of her dress. “It's beautiful and very well made. She's incredibly kind.” Leona just hummed, unable to keep from staring at her. He rested his head on his hand as he looked, his eyes going all the way from her toes to her head, making Isabelle even more embarrassed. “Why are you staring? Does it look weird?”

“In a way.” He watched amused as Isabelle made a pout, a sigh escaping her as she looked at the ground with disappointment. “But it suits you.”

Isabelle looked at him, unsure if she should take it as a compliment, but his reaction didn't seem to express anything other than intrigue. He kept looking at her, his eyes couldn't drift away from her as his irises got bigger, reminding her slightly of a cat. His tail moving a bit as he watched her, a smile slowly creeping on his face. She was beautiful. And she was wearing his country’s clothes.

Fine. Maybe Ruggie was right… he was a bit obsessed with his own fiancée.

Leona heard steps outside his room and groaned in annoyance. He knew it was probably a servant trying to call him for dinner since Isabelle didn't seem to have success– wait.

Isabelle was in his room. For a longer time than it was expected. He was shirtless.

He smirked, an idea popping in his head.

��Why do you have that weird smile on your face?” Isabelle asked, looking at him suspiciously. Leona simply let out a chuckle, getting up and standing in front of her, the girl look even more confused. “What are y–”

Before she could continue, her back was already resting on his bed, Leona on top of her as he watched her face grow red and her eyebrows furrow. He couldn't help but chuckle as he nuzzled his face in her neck and Isabelle complained, but still made no effort to try and get him off of her.

Then, the door was opened.

“Your highness, dinner is– oh goodness!” The servant quickly closed the door as Leona laughed against Isabelle's skin, the girl getting unbelievably red and perplexed upon realizing his plan. “I-I’ll tell His Majesty that you're busy at the moment. Forgive my intrusion.”

Leona finally relaxed, the weight of his entire body falling onto Isabelle who complained once more. Upon realizing he wasn't moving she simply sighed.

“So you were just using me to run away from dinner huh?”

“What? Are you disappointed?” He asked, his breath on her neck as she shivered and moved her face away from his.

“Not exactly. Just annoyed you used me for your own personal gain.” She tried to explain, where Leona was laying down he could feel her heartbeat, and it was increasing with every passing second. He smiled.

She was nervous.

“If you wanted me to lay you in bed–”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence.” She finally looked at him, a glare on her face and he laughed. Leona's hand moved to Isabella's face, his thumb making circular motions as her cheeks went pink. It was then that he realized how unbelievably close she was.

“Hey, mouse.” He started, eyes never looking away from hers. “I'm gonna do something, and if you don't want me to, I'm giving you the freedom to push me away.” he quickly looked at her lips, enchanted by her, and she seemed to freeze upon realizing what he meant.

He got closer to her, his nose brushing against hers and his lips hovering just above hers. He was about to do it, to kiss her right there without a care for what this meant about his own feelings for her and–

Her phone rang. She pushed him away and got up.

“I-I’m– there's– I-I have to answer it– you know, my father he– I-I’ll go.” With that, Isabelle quickly walked out of his room, leaving Leona by himself, his back laying on his own bed.

And he laughed.

Her eyes… Leona might be a predator, based on his lion features, but he was so sure that Isabelle was the one fitting that role at that moment. Bewitching him and making him do crazy things. Making him quite obsessed with her and her presence.

He couldn't help but want more.

[squibbymun]

hes sorry for punching your dad in the dick do you forgive him

[skoulsons]

“Ellie?”

She had kept herself closed off most of the day, doing as much as skipping meals, not sketching, and declining their routine movie night.

Joel turned the knob, opening the door only slightly. “Ellie?”

“What?” She bit. She was around the corner, still in bed.

He bit his cheek. “Can I come in?”

She sniffled, a mumbled yeah from around the corner to let him know it was okay. He entered, keeping the door somewhat open behind him. He found her on her back, covers pulled up to her shoulders as she stared at the ceiling, counting imaginary stars.

The look on her face was a sure sign, as any, that things were not good.

He sat by her feet, the corner of the mattress sinking down as he sat, her feet following suit and lightly falling against his lower back.

“Do you need something?”

Joel inhaled and exhaled. He kept his hands awkwardly in his lap. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why? I’m fine,” she grumbled, eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“You sure?”

She wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t fine. Every possible thought about Joel, Tommy, Maria, Riley, Sam, or Henry that wasn’t positive made its way to the forefront of her brain, twisting everything she knew about them. Making her believe things that she was sure weren’t true. Convincing her of truths that were hard to shake.

Everything is still so new to them. Young and needing navigation and direction. Their relationship and being together now, no plan in sight of leaving or disregarding the other.

She has someone in her life now who cares about her. Who has cared about her for over a year. Someone who dedicates every single day to being present. Who always makes breakfast for the two of them. Someone who holds her when she cries and who lifts her up even higher when she’s happy. Who carries her to bed when she needs it and finds her new comics when he’s outside the walls. Who protects her at every moment and encourages her to eat and shower when she struggles.

Someone who loves her.

And that revelation is what makes these days even harder.

“Hey…” he nudged, turning his body slightly more towards her. “What’s goin’ on, baby?”

Ellie sighed, closing her eyes tightly, waves of colors forming in the black of her vision the harder she squeezed. She opened them, her eyesight wavering as tears pooled at her eyelids. The imaginary stars on the ceiling kept her gaze, still avoiding Joel’s concern.

“Today just… hasn’t been good.”

And while he knew it, hearing it from her still hurts to know. Whatever happened, it hurts to know she’s struggling.

“I think it’s been little worse than hasn’t been good.” It felt inappropriate to point out her near crying and the tight-lipped expression on her face in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay.

“I’m just… having fucked up thoughts,” she sighed, tracing all the constellations she knew into the white of the ceiling.

Joel didn’t say anything. In all honesty, he didn’t know what to say.

Neither of them were the best at talking. Sharing something that pissed them off, frustrated them, or upset them and navigating that conversation in a healthy manner always felt like forcefully pulling teeth before they ever broke the surface of the gums.

Joel hopes his silence is an invitation for her to continue. He wants to help, to walk through what bothering her with her.

“I…,” she started, choking slightly on the syllable. “I feel like people don’t care. They don’t care, they don’t…love.”

Joel tilted his head to the side, eyeing her avoidant gaze.

Ellie brought her hand up and wiped it across her right temple. Her voice wavered, her lip quivering as she spoke, “me.”

Joel had an inclination, but hearing it still hurt all the same.

“I feel like people…” she paused, sniffled heavily. She lazily raised her arm off the bed in his direction, “you… don’t.”

Frustrated, Ellie sat up, her back making content with the headboard harder than she intended. She locked eyes with him momentarily before avoiding his gaze again, fixing hers around the room. Her dresser, a heap of clothes on the floor, her blinds, and the open door.

She stopped keeping her head upright and let the crown of her head fall back, banging against the headboard. She sighed, a wet, embarrassing laugh escaping her. “I… I know. I know you do. I do. But sometimes, I just… get convinced you don’t.”

She fiddles with her hands in her lap as her tears threaten to spill over, Ellie massaging her fingers and cracking her knuckles, even with nothing left to crack. She picks at her cuticles and nails uncomfortably, clearing her throat to get rid of the tight burning that has coated it.

“What convinces you?” Joel asked, his eyes looking twenty years younger—like he’s talking to someone else entirely. Like he’s held a similar conversation before.

His question stumps her.

And she realizes it’s nothing. Nothing has ever convinced her. Nothing could convince her that Joel doesn’t care about her. Nothing could ever truly convince her that Joel doesn’t love her.

He may get frustrated over something. He may be extra tired some days. He may spend a little more strength some days fighting his own demons that it’s hard to be there 100% for her.

But those things don’t mean he doesn’t love her. They don’t mean he wouldn’t lay down his life for her at any given moment. They don’t mean he doesn’t look at her with anything less than adoration, devotion, and appreciation for who she is. Who she is and what she has come to mean to him.

“Have I ever done anything-“

She cut him off. “No. No, no. Fuck no, never.” She threw the crown of her against the headboard again, a few tears spilling down the side of her face and flowing along her jawline. She hastily wiped them away, clearing her throat.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I guess I… don’t think I deserve it or something. So I look at you or Tommy or I… I remember Riley or Sam or anyone else and I… I think they don’t—didn’t care.”

She knows they do. Riley—she knows. Sam she knows. Henry, too. Tommy and Maria—she knows. Joel—he she knows better than any of the others.

“I remember them or I…” she brought her head down from her gaze on the ceiling and looked at him, clearly, for the first time. “I look at you and I wonder why.”

She cries. Her lips pressed together, not enough breath in her lungs to combat the tears falling down her face and slipping down her neck, soaking the collar of her shirt. She wipes and wipes and wipes until her tear-soaked hands can’t catch anymore and they flow freely. She dries her hands on her sheets and it’s still not enough to catch every single one.

Joel moves quickly, his right hand lightly on her shin as he reaches his left out towards her, keeping it held right above her lap for her to feel.

She can barely see, and yet she reaches out, knowing he’s there. Trusting he’s there.

She grabs his left hand with her right, holding it until her knuckles turn white and it hurts. Until it stings and her fingers go numb. Until her hand shakes and the blood flow is cut off from her fingertips.

He moves his right hand from her shin to press a fist into the mattress on the other side of her, scooting himself closer to her. He settles closer to her, bringing his right hand up her shoulder and eventually finding its home on her cheek. He strokes his thumb across it, more tears falling as she leans into it. She turns her head into it, her lips in his palm as he continues wiping her tears.

He pulls his hand back from her face and brings it to her other cheek, sliding his knuckles across to clear the streaks of tears. He returns his hand back to her other cheek, lightly scratching at the roots of her hair on the back of her neck.

Ellie grabs the collar of her shirt with her left hand, wiping the snot from her nose and using any drier part of her shirt to dry her neck and chin.

Joel lifts his left hand to bring up to her face, but a mumbled, snotty no keeps it in her lap, Ellie still clutching it.

She continues to sniffle, finally opening her eyes to see Joel looking back at her, a streak down the left side of his face, right by his ear.

“I’m sorry,” she says, quickly averting her gaze from his.

He smiles slightly, rubbing those all-comforting circles with his thumb over hand. He brings his hand up from her cheek as she closes her eyes, using two fingers to drag hairs down her forehead and tuck them behind her ear.

They didn’t need to be tucked away—but the affection always comforts her.

She takes his right hand in her left, bringing it down into her lap next to their other hands. She watches their hands intently as she rubs circles on his with her right hand and he rubs circles on hers with his right.

“Hey,” he whispers, trying to get her attention. It does, and she looks up at him. The tug on the corner of his lips reaches his eyes. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“No it’s… it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be crying over something I know isn’t true…”

“You know it’s not true?”

She inhales a shaky breath and exhales one just as heavy. She focuses on it, keeping any other tears down as best she can through controlled breathing.

“Yeah. Yeah I… I know.” She pauses for another breath. “But sometimes it’s… fucking difficult. I don’t…” she hesitates, shaking slightly, “I don’t want to look at you and wonder why.”

She chokes, wiping her cheek on the shoulder of her shirt. She feels her back against the headboard and adjusts slightly, rolling her shoulder blades over it.

She looks up at him. His eyes still hold that twenty-year-old look. They glisten because of the tears gathered in them, and the loving smile that hasn’t quite reached his lips has already hit his eyes.

“I’ll remind you. Every day, if I have to—if you want me to. Even if you don’t, I might jus’ have to-“

She laughs—giggles—at that. He laughs too, the kind of laugh that resides deep in his chest. The one that sounds better through his rare toothy smile. The laugh she only hears so often. The laugh when he thinks he’s done something right. The almost triumphant laugh when he seems to have cheered her up.

Ellie smiles, watching his own unwavering smile. “You can, if you think about it. I mean, I won’t expect it every day. If you forget some days, it’s fine. I’m not-”

“Ellie.”

“Sorry.”

Joel takes note of her. The dried tears along her cheeks. Her red and puffy eyes. The way her nose is red. The soaked collar of her shirt.

He doesn’t want to see her like this again. Not over thoughts like this.

“Will reminding you help? You know… keep thoughts like this away?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but it hits her that she doesn’t know. She’s never been positively reminded, certainly not daily, that someone cares for and loves her. No one’s been constant enough to tell her the truths she missed out on as a child. No one’s stuck around long enough for them to mean anything. No one has ever loved her enough to say them and mean them. Nothing other than doubt, hesitation, or reluctance has followed such reminders.

“I don’t know. I think, I… I hope. I don’t know, I’ve… never had someone who did something like that.”

He doesn’t frown at the thought, but his smile fades. Sadness, disbelief at the thought, the truth that she’d never had this before. “Well… we can try it out. You can tell me if you hate it ‘n we can try something’ else.” He smiled again as he rubbed more circles along her hands. “Sound fair?”

She smiles, tears welling at her eyes again. One spills over, Ellie fervently nodding in response to Joel’s question before too many more tears follow.

He lets go of her left hand and opens his arm up, welcoming her in. She scoots into him, tucking her body against him. She lets her legs freely fall into his as she leans against his body, his right arm coming across her back and holding her shoulder tightly. She keeps her face hidden away as best she can in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her right hand finds the bottom of his shirt, rubbing the fabric back and forth between her fingers.

Joel kisses her head, leaving his lips pressed into her hair briefly. “I just… I don’t want this to become something you know is true. Cause it ain’t.”

“It won’t. I… I know it’s not true.”

He kisses her head again, a muffled good reverberating through her. He rubs her upper arm a few times.

“Come here,” he says, letting go of her shoulder and standing up.

She smiles shyly, standing up and wasting no time to hold on to him, her arms wrapping around his middle and settling behind his back. She rests her ear right over his heart, the thump-thump drowning the world out. Drowning her thoughts. Her feet stand in between his, Ellie attempting to get as close to him as she can.

Joel, just like every time before and every time to come after, keeps a steady hand across her back and one behind her head, carefully threading his fingers through her hair. He tilts his head down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

He sways them gently, covering her back in hand-drawn lines, circles, and a myriad of other shapes. “This is your first reminder.”

She giggles at that.

Something bubbles in her chest. A fire. Butterflies—as cheesy as she thinks that is—it fits. It tickles, in a way. It reaches her finger tips and warms her skin. It helps her breathe easier and keeps her heartbeat beat in rhythm with his. It slows her thoughts and relaxes her shoulder. It lets her relax completely against his embrace.

The reminder is there. The reminder of his care and protection, no matter what. The reminder of the steadfast, uncompromising, sacrificial love that he has for her.

[fluffycatgirl]

chat i dont think i make it

[grooviestsadpapaya]

Wip :’]

[thxnks4themrms]

Not to like say this artist is necessarily bad but let’s just say that there’s a certain cover of Prison someone made that I found on Spotify and uh

Let’s just say it wasn’t my cup of ray toro

Erm