#this might be common knowledge and I’m just way behind

[applysome]

Random lyric thoughts that don’t warrant their own post:

Star Treatment - the “monogrammed suitcase” relates to the expectations set by AM (the album) in terms of success, pressure, musical direction but also to TLSP and both the creative and on-stage freedom Alex has to give up as a Monkey.

No. 1 Party Anthem - the character/narrator is actually chasing the man who gives the “Gallic shrug”, and is intently focused on the woman and how great she is because she has the man’s attention and the character is jealous.

She Looks Like Fun - “key changes, rethinking, new order” isn’t the character re evaluating their life, but the Instagram algorithm shuffling the feed / for you page to keep them hooked.

[latinokaeya-moving]

semi related kinda actually. one of those super common fat stereotypes that didn’t really stick/make sense to me until i grew older was the idea of fat equaling weak or pathetic like. that’s a really common association right in both media and the average consciousness of ppl. but it was never something i learned to internalise as a kid bc a Lot of ppl in my family including myself had always been built big and broad and everyone was always just so physically strong??? like looking back not in an unnaturally impressive way or anything but just so many of them had been manual labourers in some way in colombia and then they came here to do cleaning and even though it might not seem it that’s Such a physically taxing job especially if you’re doing it for 12+ hours every day and like. the strength that built Showed in the roughhousing at home so clearly ?

like as little kids me and my brother would gang up on my grandma to play wrestle and she would sooo soundedly defeat us each time like she had such solid grip and weight behind her arms even as an old lady she was short but broad and Sturdy and physically strong!!! and my brother is huge and tall and Fat he was the biggest kid in secondary school i’m so sure and he could pick up and manhandle and throw other kids even older than him with ease. he played rugby with these fit lanky guys i knew in my year who would tell me that they would stay the Fuck away from him when they played bc they knew he was unmovable and Would slam them to the ground without breaking a sweat. hell he could right now pick me up and physically slam me on the ground if he really wanted to and im big! i’m heavy as hell! i weigh almost as much as he does!

so growing up surrounded by my family i just. kinda got used to associating fatness with physical strength as this obvious innate thing so when i sorta expanded my horizons n saw the way it was used in popular media as visual shorthand for like. laziness And Therefore weakness it was just very. unintelligible. it didn’t make sense to me at all. i didn’t get it lol

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎃 Twst Halloween PSA 🎃

*pulls up the Serious Talk Chair*

Alright, so.

In the wake of the new Halloween PV posted on the TWST JP social media accounts, there’s been an explosion of hype. However, something else you may have seen circulating is people saying, "I already knew about this weeks ago!" and/or claims of having knowledge of leaked characters and costumes. Some have even directly linked to videos or images of these leaks (including fully animated character sprites) in threads discussing the next Halloween event. I myself have been sent these videos and images multiple times, unprompted, over the last few days.

To make a long story short:

You should NOT be speaking about or sharing these leaks in a public setting.

By doing so, you are running the risk of spoiling people who may not want to know these things in advance. They never gave their consent to see that, and this consent shouldn’t be assumed. I’m extremely disappointed that my own experience has been this way. I wanted the chance to react live as the information was being released. Others may feel the same as me. Additionally, openly talking about leaks is may make things more difficult for us fans in the long run.

The only reason these leaks were let out so early is because TWST started uploading assets into the game much sooner than they would actually be implemented. This has allowed dataminers in the fandom to go in and look around to see what goodies might be in store for the future. However, if fans are going to just run around blurting out what all the secrets are, it may discourage the devs from continuing to do this in the future. It will make it that much more difficult for fans to extract high quality card images ASAP. It means assets may be kept under tighter lock and key to prevent this from happening again.

Don't believe me? Something similar happened with the Japanese TWST website. The team used to upload news about the next month's schedule early, but locked behind a random string of numbers. Fans brute-forced those numbers and always managed to find the schedule sooner than it was intended to be out. The number of posts made on the website has now dropped drastically and schedules are no longer released on there. While there's no proof that these events are related, there is a real concern among some dataminers that the very same could happen regarding in-game assets.

I realize that leaks are common nowadays, but please let us at least respect other fans' rights to experience the game in their own way while also minimizing the risk of consequences for the fandom. If you must discuss these leaks at all, do it in PRIVATE. You are allowed to be excited about what's coming, but please keep it to yourselves or to your own circles where it may be a more appropriate topic.

Do not ask or talk about the leaks in my inbox, DMs, or comments. Do not link me to or share any leaks. Wait until the information has been released on official TWST social media handles, THEN I would be more than happy to talk about the news with everyone. Those who disregard this request moving forward will have their message deleted and then be blocked.

Thank you—and with that, let’s return to our regularly scheduled show!

[griffintail2]

Wolf in Duck's Clothing

Summary: A small child sinner tries to navigate her way through Hell.

Pairings: Lucifer x Child!GN!Reader

Warnings: None that I know of but it's Hazbin, we'll find them eventually.

This is a part one for now to test out the new writing grounds! Hope you enjoy! ♥

Part 2

-------

Sinners couldn’t have children in Hell. It was common knowledge. So, an actual child running around hell was rare.

For a child to be there, they had to be a Hellborn or…the most rare choice, they were a sinner themselves.

There were some that took in the rare little sinners. However, there were a few that continued to wander the streets. Alone and helpless. It was how (Y/N) got into the situation they were in.

Ducking between legs and slipping through the crowd, their breath came out quickly as they looked back to see their pursuer still following, but falling behind. They needed to hide. Alleys were obvious and usually, more trouble than they were worth, inside another building was even more reckless.

Then they spotted hedges surrounding a large home. The big bushes might be dying, but it would be enough to slip into. Quickly, they slipped through the crowd, diving through the hedge to hide beyond it. On the other side, the large home stood in its glory along with a neglected garden in front of it.

Holding their breath, they watched the hedge, waiting to see if their pursuer followed but breathed with relief when a minute passed and the hedge didn’t move from any disturbance. They waited a few more minutes before they’d make their hasty escape from the land they had stumbled upon. Looking around, (Y/N) could imagine how beautiful the garden might have once been.

The pretty colors and life that would have flourished in the dark place. There was one living plant, making them wonder slightly closer in curiosity. A large tree that still stood…

“You’re trespassing.” A voice spoke behind them.

The small child, jumped, giving a small scream as they turned, clutching onto the stolen goods they had in their arms. Behind them, a man with pale white skin, red cheeks, and hair hiding under a large hat looked down at them with crossed arms.

Lucifer stared at the small sinner. Their form was one of a wolf’s, their ears currently pointed back and tail pressed close to them as they stared up at him in fear. In their arms, he spotted a few bits of food. Bread, cans of something, and…apples. He stood straighter.

“Did you take from the tree?” He growled.

“W-What?” They looked at the tree seeing it was indeed an apple tree. “No! I’m-I’m sorry sir! I-I didn’t mean to come h-here.”

He scoffed. “Then what are you doing here if not to steal?”

“I-I was hiding…” Tears welled up in their eyes and Lucifer looked confused. “I-I’m sorry, I did st-steal, but not from you…I st-stole this food from the store.”

Now Lucifer was utterly baffled. They were confessing their wrongdoings? Why weren’t they lying, they’re a sinner. He stared at their terrified form trying to figure them out. When he’d seen them from his office window, he'd confidently assumed that they were just a short adult sinner. But…

“How old are you?” He asked.

“…Eight.” They muttered.

He sighed deeply as he looked away from them. An actual child. He knew there were children, sinners, he’d just never met one during his centuries, not that he went out much to have the chance to meet one.

“Where are your parents or the people taking care of you?” He huffed.

They looked around, sputtering. “I, um-Well I—”

“Any time now.” He waved his hand.

“…I’m-I’m taking care of me.” They muttered.

He once more stood in confusion. They were on their own? But he looked them over again. Ratty, torn clothes, food they stole in their arms, on their own to begin with.

He crossed his arms again, gripping them as he stared at the small child, making them squirm in place.

“Fuck.” He swore under his breath, before walking to the house. “Come on.”

“W-What?” They sputtered.

“Come on, in the house.” He motioned to it as he looked back. “I need to find somewhere to bring you and I don’t know where to start. So come inside so I can figure it out.”

They stared in shock before quickly scampering after him. He sighed as he led them in. He wasn’t fond of sinners by any means. He hated his own subjects. But the father side of him couldn’t just leave a child out on their own to fend for themselves. He’d find somewhere to send them so he could be done with it.

“Thank you, sir.” They muttered.

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled.

[running-with-kn1ves]

(if you still write plssss I just love your stories) What about a yandere omega male obsessed with the gentle alpha female reader from another clan...and alpha female reader was different..she's not demanding,always patient, gentle and respectful...and sometimes loves cool quiet places ....and he's even more obsessed that it's his mate...but the problem is...she doesn't want a mate cause it's terrifies her cause she doesn't want to be a horrible person cause she's an alpha female cause she might get misunderstood....so ....the yandere omega is very very manipulative and very knows how to guilt trip her to making her mind and take her to bed s3x.....

A/N: For some reason this spoke to me. Very little proof read so I apologize if the smut doesn't make much sense or I get common a/b/o knowledge wrong lmao.

CW: Drink spiking, alcohol, yandere omega, AFAB alpha reader, smut, sex from behind, physical violence.

Synopsis: An omega keeps harassing you, begging you to be his mate. It isn't until one night when you're off your game, does he "win you over."

"C'mon, won't you humor me a little bit," the omega's eyes widened in hopeful desperation, a small smile quirking up from the tip of his mouth. "Just one, please?"

"Will you bug off already? I already said no, I've got my own. Go find someone else to pester."

"But you're nearly finished, hm?" He taps on your glass, looking up at you from against the table. He just barely met your height, but from the way he crouched on the barstool, running a ring around your cup with his finger, he embraced his place from below.

"I promise, just a drink and I'll let you be."

Your migraine grows; whether it be in the office, from your windows, or here at your only safe space-- the bar outside your apartment, he's antagonizing you wherever you go. Just a drink, he pleads. Just some coffee or a short dinner-- anything to get you to agree to be "his." His alpha, the bearer of his children “who'll be well taken care of,” he promises.

You've grown tired and irritated, your usually calm and civil demeanor relenting after a couple drinks. But still, your instinct to be kind to those weaker than you, to protect the fly currently stopping you from enjoying your solitude, kicks in.

"Fine," you give up. "Just one. Then please, will you stop trying to convince me? I'm not looking for a mate, and the more you bug me the less willing I am to accept your offer."

To you, the offer was pretty much off the table. But he was so persistent, influencing the idea to cross your mind more than once.

He lit up, grabbing the bartenders attention with a snap and tap on the bar. Despite the harmless, awkward body language he gave off, he wasn’t as “puppy-like” as most omegas appeared. Sure, there was that cuteness he tried to use to appeal to you, but it wasn’t as helpless as he tried to play it to be. He was using his charms as best as he could, licking his lips and using the new line of pheromone-reacting cologne you had heard so much about from your coworkers. Sometimes, you smelled your fellow alphas using it, trying their best to attract a mate, as if they didn’t already have an overpopulation of omegas flocking to their side. 

“I’m Lane, by the way.” the flirty omega said, a new cocktail in his hand as he swirled its straw. It was awfully thick for some tequila and fruit juice, the color almost turing an off-white and red. 

“I know.” You sighed, wondering how he could’ve thought you forgot his name after so many advances. Maybe it was just another attempt at riling up your inner instincts to find an mate, to repeat his name in your mind. 

“And I know you, of course,” He slyly moves forward, pushing the drink closer to you. “You’ve been avoiding me lately, lovely. Why so? Have you found a different omega to share your time with?” 

You hated how he spoke so plainly, how you were an alpha, how he was an omega, how everyone else-- no matter their standing-- was a threat or an outsider. 

You take a sip of the drink to appease him, wordlessly hit with a taste you could smell from a mile away. 

You tried not to spit it out, to be polite, to avoid the anger bubbling in your liquor-swishing stomach. 

“No. I’ve been busy, working. You know, trying to make a living, to support myself. What is it that you’ve been doing besides harassing me?” 

You didn’t know what exactly it was-- with the amount of inventions created these days to induce heat, to heighten pheromones, to attract a mate-- you knew it was something extracted with his fragrance, the essence of his identity as an omega-- to bring out the inhumane, animalistic need inside of you to protect and keep him for yourself-- to choose him, like he had done you. Just as he wanted. 

You could avoid the constant, offputting stench he covered himself in to make your inner nature hungry-- but this, the drug, or the... Part of him, that you didn’t want to think about, that was inside of you now-- was enough to drive you mad. 

His cheeks were a bit red behind their tan tint, resting on his knuckles as he looke up at you, so enraptured in your presence. He liked hearing you talk even if it was at his expense. 

You wanted to choke him, shove him against the pool table in anger for spiking your drink with something so crude. Yet, you could do nothing but keep your mouth shut, suffocating on his smell, on the feeling between your thighs and the need to find an omega, quickly. 

But alphas didn't go home with omegas without there being strings attached-- one night stands with your own kind was fine enough, but it wasn’t as satisfying as you know it could be. 

You put your head in your hands, pushing away the drink. One sip was enough to take you to hell. You should’ve been meaner to him, less tolerant. 

“You know, I don’t know why you’re so hesitant to find a mate. With your mother pressuring you, your coworkers almost entirely paired up-- you think it’d be about time.”  Lane’s hand slides to your shoulder, rubbing it in a gentle back and forth. 

“How do you know about that?” You groan from behind your arms, hardly phased by how much he knows about your life. Well, after three months of harassing you, he was unlikely to stay at just a distance. 

“I hear around! They’re worried about you, you know. Wondering if you’ll keep suppressing yourself during rutting season, how you’ll handle this, season… its only weeks away; are you going to keep using blockers?”

“It’s none of your business,” You sigh through your teeth, grinding them together between words. “I don’t.. I can’t handle having an omega in my life. You don’t understand what it’s like-- to be me. I’ll hurt them, I can’t be around anyone.”

You put a palm over your eyes, breathing through your mouth. Maybe you can last it out, if you could just get out of here. 

Lane jumps at the sound of that-- he’s heard your fears, seen them written on your face and through your bedroom window. He’s practiced a million times in situations like this to convince you-- that you aren’t as scary as you think you are, that even if you were, he would handle it all. He would take care of you like no other mate. It was what he was made for. 

“My love, oh-- you don’t even understand. Even if you were too, well-- rough, I’d never leave your side. I’m not afraid of you-- i’m not like the other omegas that’ve tried to capture your attention. With their weak, doe eyes, you’d massacre them-- I know it. But me, I can handle all of you, I promise.”

Lane sounded so earnest, a hopeless romantic’s authenticity dripping from his voice. He didn’t care if he had to play into your fear-- it was unlikely he’d ever be able to completely alter your esteem anyway. Atleast now, he could make you believe that he could hold all of you. 

You looked to the corner of your eye, watching how confidently he believed in his words. You weren’t quite sure if he was right, if anyone was stable enough to take how needy and protective you’d be as their alpha. You’d seen those who nearly break their mate, yet stay with them in an attempt to cure their loneliness. You couldn’t handle being like that. 

Lane took your hand away from your face, bringing it up to his. 

“You call for me… I know it, just as my body and soul long for you.. Won’t you do whats right, won’t you let two soulmates be together?” 

He lets his tongue peak between his plump lips, licking at the salty ridges of your palm, closing his eyes in bliss. 

He’s never managed to get this close to you before, your guarded nature always so skittish, so alert and defensive.

“Lane,” You huff, stumbling out of the barstool. You didn’t have the capacity to argue with him, to throw his pheromone-ridden drink in his face. If you didn’t get home now, you’d be long gone. It would be a rough night, but you couldn’t let your instincts get the best of you, not when they could make you hurt someone. 

“I’m..leaving. Don’t follow me--you’ll regret it, please.” 

You grab your jacket and bag, thinking twice about slamming back the rest of your bourbon. But it was better to be as clear-headed as you could; you’ve never been hit this hard with such a need before, except when you had your first rut as a late teen.

This though-- this was targeted at a specific individual. The omega who wanted you, who played with your impulses by injecting his own into the mix. You had to get away, lest you succumb.

Your eyes were hazy and dark as you pushed through the chiming door, out into the wet street of musty asphalt. 

Two blocks, thats all you had to cross. Then, you’d be free to writhe in bed and do your best to suppress the reaction inside of you. 

“Wait!” You heard Lane stumble behind you, only making you walk faster. “You can’t leave yet, let’s just talk!”

He struggled to keep up with you, stamina and legs far shorter than your own. Outside of the bar, in the streetlights and misty fog he was taller, almost… ominous. You would be more on edge if he wasn’t just a pathetic omega searching for your attention. 

You felt better in the cool air, away from his smell filling up the bar, but now he came back to haunt you, stuffing up your nose and throat with such a sweet, suffocating musk. 

You bent over, almost ready to gag at how hard you were trying to swallow your drool. 

“Are you okay?” He hugs your side, a hand on your back for comfort.  

Resting your palms on your knees you watch as he comes forward to bend down, pulling hair away from your eyes. He was warm, warmer than you, covered in whiffs of that pheromone cologne, letting it blind you in waves as you try to not breathe. But it was growing inside of you, you couldn’t get away with both his hands coming down to wrap around your wrists. That bigger, hungrier part of you didn’t even want to; It was grander than your insecurity, growing larger than your rational humanity. 

If you had the strength to hold back anymore, you could launch him 10 feet away from you. But you didn’t want to. You had to, to get away, to spare him from what he didn’t know-- but you wouldn’t. 

You watch the breath come from Lane’s mouth, letting his glasses get covered in a foggy film. He was so stereotypical, so obviously desperate to be taken care of and needy for a big bad alpha to keep him safe, to raise her pups. 

You moved in, just an inch, just to inhale that scent from his tongue. It was enough for Lane-- enough to make his smile break wide. He couldn’t hide it; it was hard to keep his ecstasy at bay when you were wrapped around his finger. So much work, so many efforts to capture you, and it was finally coming to fruition. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home. Your apartment’s this way, right?”

Of course it was this way, was there any need to pretend anymore? But he couldn’t help it, he was so used to acting undercover for you, to get you off your guard. 

You’re too sickly, going green as he lets you wrap an arm around his shoulder, hardly able to move your jellified legs forward. You wanted to pounce so badly, to mark him in that alleyway--  but maybe, he’d do you a kindness, and leave you to your own devices in your apartment, keep himself away like you told him he should. 

“You’ve… got to go--” You hiccup back a gag, feeling that sweet burning turn into a twisted ache, the desire that was once sort of pleasurable, now a great pain. 

“I can’t do that, I won’t leave my alpha all alone on the street. You won’t even be able to make it home if it wasn’t for me. That stuff will render you paralized, you know.”

“The, drink..?”  You push back another wave of nausea, stopping for a second to collect your senses. But there was nothing left to collect, you were all over the place, and you wouldn’t be better until the thirst was quenched. 

He grinned a tad, having waited for you to bring it up. Lane was sure you’d realize it was tampered with as soon as he pushed it toward you. But really, he expected you to push back more, to be smarter and slide it away. But you were too polite, almost gullible in a sense. 

Lane avoided the question, lifting your chin with the hand that wasn't keeping you standing. 

“Ah look, home sweet home.”

The lamp in your apartment window dully illuminated its open blinds. You could see directly into your bedroom, sloppily made bedsheets and clothes strewn across the floor. How many times had a stranger seen you hunched over your computer, or changing after a shower?

You swallowed back the salivation on your tongue, desperately trying to ignore the hot hand Intertwining itself into yours. You didn't have to be psychic to know Lane must've peaked through this window a dozen times from the way he eyed it so familiarly. 

His awareness of where your apartment sat, down to the floor and door number, was nauseating.

You stumbled with labored breaths, turning instinctively to the elevator, down the end of the hall. Lane turned with you, practically leading the way with skips of anticipation. 

You were bombarded with “how are you doing's?” And “just a little longer, my sickly mate” as Lane tortured you with pet names and brushes of his knuckles against your forehead. You were sweating now, heaving as your clothes felt too tight and your skin too sweltering. 

He had forced you to choke on his scent, to make your belly sting and throb unbearably, with each soft, caring, omega-like touch, always making sure his neck or wrists were in tasting view. 

The door to your apartment swung open, despite your head too foggy and pounding for you to search for your keys. Lane held a pair of something jingling in his hand, and you wondered If it was your messy keyring, or his. 

“There we go…” he cooed, shushing your panting as you stumbled against the couch.  “It's late, don't want to upset your neighbors, baby.”

“I'm home..” you gasp to yourself, trying to shuffle to the back bedroom, thanking the heavens that Lane’s scent was drifting farther away. That five minute walk home was hell, a hell you didn't realize you were in until you were out. 

The light peeking from the outer hall diminished, apartment door clicking shut and deadbolt sliding in with a lock. 

Now, only Lane and your breathing filled the air, the AC unit quietly humming-- yet doing nothing to cool the prickling burn of your skin. Your body was wracked with waves of fire now, only calming when Lane was near. You thought the burning was worse when he stood close to you, but with the omega’s body heat begin to drift away, your knees began to buckle. 

A hand in the dark from out of nowhere pulled you to the back of your apartment, across the kitchen and past the bathroom, into your dimlit bedroom. Even without his hand, you could’ve followed Lane’s overpowering smell covering every surface of your home. 

“You don’t look so hot; come lie down, okay?” 

Just lying down, taking a breather, it sounded so harmless. But what kind of person drugs you with pheromone enhancers, only to bring you home and let you “lie down?”

You feel for your bed with numb fingers, your bedsheets adorned in yellow light from your second-hand lamp. Lane picks up your foot as you sink into the bedsheets, untangling your shoelaces and slipping the sneaker off. He does the same to the other, placing your legs onto the end of the bed. 

Your head was a disaster, a mix of spinning sights of your room and drifting thoughts. 

“Ugh.. make it stop--” You covered your mouth, preventing from gagging any harder. Maybe throwing up would be a good thing, you could get this bitter-sweet flavor out of your mouth, and the cause of your suffering to release you. 

“I can make it stop, my mate.. you know what we need to do,”

“No--” You choke back your drinks from tonight “Anything but that-- I already told you…” Lane pushes a sweat stricken piece of hair from your forehead. “M’not looking for a mate..” 

Your legs curl up instinctively as your stomach begins to tighten, beneath your jeans beginning to cramp painfully. 

“Mayhaps not… but, you need one, no? To end this? To take care of you right now?” Lane can’t help but watch you, rubbing your hip as you bury your head into a warm pillow. His whispers make the hairs on your neck go cold, standing straight. “Just tell me yes, and all this can go away. You’ll feel okay. Better, even.” 

You go quiet. How long can you endure this? You won’t be able to go into work tomorrow, and your weekend plans are likely ruined. This isn’t just some overnight, rut-mimicking elixir… you can feel it, it’s altering your ability to think and speak. The last time you avoided using suppressors alone, you were bedridden for a week. This is different; this is attacking your instincts, erasing what control you had over yourself left. You could already sense the frustration and anger rising. 

What if it didn’t go away after tonight? Could you... Stop yourself from attacking someone? From grabbing that omega two floors down, so vulnerable and alone in their one-bedroom, rickety apartment? The landlord won’t come for another week…

Lane, as if his gut didn’t already speak to him to obey an alpha, wouldn’t go against your desires despite how close he was to tying you to him forever. You were his mate, and he wouldn’t let your relationship start off so sourly. He watched your eyes go dark, heavy breathing grow animalistic as something inside you was no longer holding you back. He wanted your permission, needed it, craved it.

“Just nod your head… I’ll do the rest. I’ll make it end, and you won’t have to come to this empty house alone anymore. We’ll start our family--”

You nod your head, cutting off his meaningless rant. Its short at first, a mix between yes and no, before you furiously grip the mattress, drawing blood from your lip.

“Just do it,” You bite, trying not to focus on whatever he was spewing on about. You were stuck underwater, getting farther beyond reason the longer you stared at his forearms. His rolled sleeves exposed naked skin, the heat of his other hand and its back pressed to your cheek.“Before I rip you to pieces.”

Lane was swift to your backside, fingers grooving to get stuck at your hips. You didn't have the ability to see his gleaming eyes through your hazy ones. But an alpha didn't need to rely on their sight to sense prey in the dark. 

He was enthralled, hot breath against your muggy neck. He became quick to completely press up against you on his side, mimicking the direction of your body as the lump in his pants were ground further between your legs from behind. His crotch was forced against yours, bringing a pained bliss. But it wasn't enough to quell the burning inside of you. 

“Yes…yes,” he huffed, disbelief in his voice to accompany shaking fingers. 

It took him a solid three tries before Lane managed to pull your pant zipper down to its base, tugging your jeans to the floor unceremoniously. It wasn't sexy, but the lust perspiring in the room made your salivation drip to the pillow beneath your head. 

“Be patient love, please. I promise, you'll feel so good--”

You felt him slowly slide your undergarments, too slow. The growl you released was one you had never heard come from your mouth before-- or anyone, for that matter. Even other alphas during their ruts, pissed at every little inconvenience and willing to bark at you on the sidewalks, were far more composed. 

“Just take it off!”

You ripped the underwear in rage, exasperating through your teeth as you pushed your hips back against his crotch. Tugging Lane’s strained boxers to his ankles, his precum glossed and dribbled to your sheets.

He didn't need your biting words to tell him how eager you were to get this over with, to rid yourself of the panic in your chest and the fire in your loins. 

You were dripping, moreso than you had in years. The slick squelshed between your thighs-- a perfect habitat for Lane’s needy, pink-tipped cock. He slid between your legs like he was made to be there, precum and slick mixing as he lazily rubbed himself in, and out, getting closer to your pulsing cunt. 

You gripped behind you, claws and fangs bared in frustration. But Lane was smart, grabbing you by the hips and wetly burying himself inside. 

He hid himself in the back of your neck, your scent bringing a small comfort as he dealt with the wrathful beast taking over your body. 

Your hips moved in circles, air permeated with hot breath, sweat, and agonizing pheromones. You were sure your alpha neighbors could smell it through the walls, their senses far heightened and eagerly searching for their own omega; but this was the scent of one who was being claimed, one who was claiming you and holding you taut against him. 

Lane did his best to satisfy you, to cater to your anger and sexual frustration as your hand found his on your hip, interlinking your fingers with his own to dig your nails into his skin. You were drawing blood, an unecessary mix to the flurry of smells creating your crazed demeanor. 

“Hurting.. Me,” He gasped, engorged cock stuttering inside of you. 

You let go, only out of the desire to get that reeking blood away. You didn’t care how hurt he would become, if his body was crushed under your power and lust. Lane brought this upon himself, no matter how many times you warned, begging him to stay away and leave you be. Now, there was very little sympathy to be had. 

The pain, the burning touch of your skin, did nothing to dissuade him. 

“Faster..” You huffed, annoyance lathering your voice. “ Don’t make me take over and-- break you,” 

You cringed at the sound of your voice, trying to turn away to smush your face into a damp pillow. Sight was not getting easier, and the cock barreling in even thrusts-- pushing your arousal to the edge-- was not making you any more satisfied.

“Don’t look away, then;” Lane panted, moving the hand supporting your hip, to hold up your thigh. You were exposed to the room, legs spread as you laid on your side and Lane pumped into you from behind. You saw his fingers digging into the fat of your thigh, thicker and stronger than you expected. “Wanna see you… wanna kiss, my mate.”

He had easier, deeper access now that he raised your leg, spreading your cheeks and hole wider, letting him fill and feel you at an ecstatic angle. You could hear him moving in and out, feel the sweat dripping down your ankle, the thickness of his pre-cum in trickles. It was a different sensation compared to the thin, stickiness of your arousal. 

You turned to glare at him, biting down on your lip to prevent from marking him. 

But Lane kissed you anyway with the same wet, feverish, tongued attempt that he had always prayed for. It was no easy feat to stop him from sucking on your tongue, from jutting himself over and over inside of you, with wilted moans growing in volume at your taste.

Your orgasm was on the rise, Lane’s own having just passed as he came with ropes, coating the base of your cervix. And yet, he didn’t stop-- desperate to watch you come, to force you to be bonded with him. 

You ripped from his begging mouth, twisting as far behind you as you could to bite at his cheek, using him as your personal chew toy. Lane leaned against you, accepting it with a blissed-out gape. He could take this pain, could handle coming down from his ecstasy to service you. He would steal your kindness, your rage, your sadism-- and it would be his, and his alone to feel. 

Being inside of you was heaven enough, he could take being dragged into hell with you too. Even when you finished-- when he went limp and your mixed arousal began to dry, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pull out of you. He wanted to stay inside your warmth, to be intertwined and conjoined with you for as long as possible. You had marked him, had sealed your fate as soon as he thrusted himself in to the hilt.

You’d have to pry him away before he let you go tonight. And you’d never, be able to keep him farther than an arms distance, forever. 

[cry-stars]

Komaeda and Dementia: Part 1 of 5: Introduction and Overview of FTD

Hi everyone!

I’m an aspiring Komaedologist with an interest in dementia. I often see people doubting Komaeda’s stated diagnosis of frontotemporal dementia, since it presents differently in him than in the common portrayal of dementia in the media. While his portrayal may not be completely accurate, there is a lot of truth to it, and there are many symptoms visible in-game. I wanted to share a few posts about dementia symptoms that we do see canonically in Komaeda’s portrayals in SDR2 and DR:AE, and share some information regarding his specific diagnosis as opposed to Alzheimers, for example.

I work with people living with dementia as a recreation worker. This means that I see them living their daily lives, and know about difficulties they might have with recreational or day to day activities. There are a lot of observations that I might make that can’t be backed up scientifically yet, but do make sense in a practical way. Everyone with dementia is different, and since I work with seniors for the most part, some observations won’t transfer onto Komaeda. However, I’ll do my best to back up whatever I can with sources.

This post is just for fun and to give people ideas. It means a lot to me to see a fascinating and endearing character like Komaeda portrayed with dementia, since it is a sad and terminal disease, and I usually see it end badly in my job, so I hope to give people ideas on how to portray it, or just to notice things in a different way they might not have before!

My main sources for this post and the following ones include “Dementia Diaries,” which is a really cool project where people with dementia talk about their experiences, National Institute on Aging, Alzheimer’s Association, Alzheimer’s Society, and my own work experience. I plan on doing more posts about specific symptoms that we see in Komaeda later, but I would be happy to hear from other people who have dementia knowledge, or to answer any questions that I can.

For the most part, I'm only going to be talking about SDR2 and a little bit of DR:AE. I haven't finished watching the anime yet and have not read any of the manga. If anyone has ideas from any of those sources, I would love to hear about them!

Overview of FTD: Which Variant does Komaeda Have?

There are two major forms of frontotemporal dementia. The first, which Komaeda likely has, is the behavioural variant (BvFTD), which is also the most likely for young people to develop. This variant of FTD mainly affects behaviour, empathy, judgement, and planning.

Komaeda is less likely to have the other variant of FTD, primary progressive aphasia. This form of FTD mainly affects language skills, including speech and comprehension.

Komaeda doesn’t seem to have very much trouble with understanding the concrete content of what people say to him, but he does occasionally seem to have trouble fully comprehending hidden meanings behind statements (for example, taking statements literally rather than as sarcastic). To me though, this is less connected to him not being able to understand the words or content of statements, and more not picking up on the emotions hidden in the statements (which I’ll address more in the behavior post). He does seem to have some trouble with word-finding in the Japanese version of the game, but again, it doesn't inhibit his ability to express himself given enough time to speak.

Another thing to note about FTD is that, in its early stages, it mainly affects behaviour and language processing, as stated above, rather than memory. In later stages, memory does start to be affected as well, but it’s different from Alzheimers (probably the most well-known form of dementia) in that memory loss isn’t the main symptom.

FTD’s prognosis is about 6-8 years. Komaeda states in his fifth free time event that his life expectancy is between half a year and one year. However, he is also referring to his lymphoma diagnosis, meaning he expected to die from a combination of both illnesses within that time frame. In SDR2, Komaeda is probably in the early to middle stages of FTD, since he was diagnosed right before entering Hope’s Peak, and was a Remnant of Despair for some time without treatment, so while we can see evidence of memory issues (which I will address in another post), it’s something he’s able to cope with and isn’t a debilitating symptom yet.

One more observation: while dementia as a whole is usually seen in elderly people, Komaeda’s specific frontotemporal dementia diagnosis has an earlier age of onset, usually between ages 40-65, and is rarely seen in elderly people. Even though being diagnosed in high school seems unlikely, it is not impossible. According to Alzheimer Society Canada, early-onset or young-onset dementia (between ages 18 and 65) accounts for 2-8% of all dementia cases.

Thank you for reading! I plan on making five posts total. The other post topics will be Outward Behaviour, Judgement/Thought Processes, Other Symptoms, and Writing Ideas.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Homestead.

Continuation of Home Intruder.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader x Yandere!Diluc (Genshin).

Title: 3.5k.

TW: Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, Obsessive Behavior, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Childe's Gone Full 'Fuck 'em Kids, and Continued Involvement Of A Child Of Dubious Origin.

You found Diluc in his chambers, sunken into a velvet-lined armchair, wrapping a length of white gauze around his split knuckles under the soft light of a low-burning candlestick. His shirt (or, rather, the tattered remains of what was once his shirt) had been discarded, along with his coat and his vest, of course, but the exposed skin no longer bothered you the way it once had, even if you still choose not to linger on the field of dark bruises blossoming along his left side.

You perched yourself on the foot of his bed – your bed too, you supposed, considering how often you found yourself sleeping at his side. Even when the threat was distant, when days lapsed between Childe’s ‘visits’, you found yourself gravitating towards him, seeking comfort in his warmth, his presence at your side. There was a reassurance that came with his company – a reassurance that you were reluctant to let go. “Another fruitful night, Master Darknight Hero?”

“Fruitful enough. The Abyss Order’s been minding their distance. The Fatui, as well – they’re stationing their encampments as far from the city’s walls as would be possible without retreating to Liyue.” You smiled, bowing your head, your satisfaction softened but no less apparent. Diluc didn’t overlook your silent mirth. “No sign of Tartaglia either,” he added, his gaze flickering from his tattered hands to you, then back to his idle work. “Not that I’m suggesting you should start taking midnight strolls through the forest. There’s a good chance he’s merely waiting for us to lower our guard.”

You doubted that. Childe was a hyper-violent, murderous bastard of a man, but he wasn’t the type to turn back on his convictions, and since his last attempt, he seemed determined not to take you by force. You couldn’t complain. If his newest delusion was that steadfast tenacity and a few promises of painless forgiveness would be enough to convince you to return to his frozen wasteland of a household, you were more than happy to let him believe it for as long as he cared to. “Maybe he’s decided his time would be better spent stalking another former captive,” you muttered. “I think I might feel a little betrayed if he moved on so easily.”

A raspy chuckle, followed shortly by an airy sigh. He let his eyes close, his head lull back, and with minimal hesitation, you rose from his bedside, fetching a misplaced comb before positioning yourself behind him. He spared you a questioning glance as you undid the already-loosened ribbon struggling to restrain his wild hair, but you only shrugged. “It helps Lina relax,” and then, beginning to pull your comb through the untamed sea of scarlet. “If you’ll pardon the comparison.”

“Pardoned.” The tension seemed to seep out of his rigid form as you pulled the knots out of his long, crimson hair – taking pains not to tug too harshly, not to let the strands you’d already detangled mix with those you had yet to touch. He spoke as you worked, rambling about his day, the state of the wine industry in Mondstadt, matters he was concerned with and matters he wished he didn’t have to be. “I mentioned our engagement at the tavern,” he said, eventually, the comment almost off-handed in its nonchalance. “Only a few drunkards were close enough to overhear it, but you know how they like to talk. It’ll be common knowledge by the time the sun rises.”

You felt something sharp begin to rise into your throat. “…our engagement?”

“That’s usually what comes with having a fiancé, yes.” His tone was not one of levity, but did he sound quite as serious as you felt he should’ve been. As if this was just a part of some scheme the two of you had planned together, in which your compliance was given. “Unless there’s another word you’d like to use? Betrothment, maybe?”

“No, engagement is fine, it’s just—” It was difficult to find the words. You didn’t want to be engaged. You didn’t want a fiancé. You didn’t know how to tell Diluc that you did not want to act as if you did, even if it was just a ploy. “Childe didn’t believe us. Even if he did, it probably wouldn’t do much to stop him.”

“But, it might give his soldiers pause. The other Harbingers, too, if he finds a reason to drag them into this.” You lost focus, catching your comb on a lock of hair still partially braided from the day before, but Diluc didn’t flinch, didn’t seem to notice. “It’d be… convenient to have a more official bond between us, too. A titled relationship can do a great deal.”

It did not escape you that he declined to mention who a titled relationship could do a great deal for.

You forced yourself to smile past your inhibition. “I’ve never really seen myself as the marrying type.”

A slight chuckle, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder. “You’d take advantage of a lovesick fool, then?”

“Without hesitation.” You leaned down, pressing a quick kiss into the top of his head before turning on your heel, starting towards the door. “Take a bath before Adelinde sees what you’re doing to her furniture. I’m going to check on Lina one more time, just to make sure she’s sleeping through the night.”

“Should I warm the bed for you?”

You hummed, nodding as you slipped out of his chambers, but for the first time in many nights, you found yourself colder by his side than you had been apart from him.

~

You were in the library, pouring over a travel guide concerning the few parts of Teyvat you’d neglected during your previous travels, when you received news that Childe and his legion were returning to his posting in Liyue. The sound you made by way of response – half pitching laughter, half irrational screaming – must’ve scared the poor butler half to death, but you didn’t have time to apologize before your body was moving on its own, rushing past him and deeper into the mansion. By the time you realized what you were doing, you were already in Diluc’s office, already throwing yourself at his desk.

“He’s gone.” You were grinning like a madman. “He’s gone, Diluc! I can— Okay, first, I’m going to go see if my landlord ever repossessed my flat, and then, I’m going to take Lina apple-picking in Springville, but not before I get back to the market and finally pay back the mora I borrowed from—”

“Have you contacted any witnesses in Liyue to confirm his arrival?”

Your smile faltered. “He would’ve only left today. There’s no way he could’ve arrived much of anywhere yet, and even if he had, I… I don’t think I know anyone in Liyue to contact.”

“There’s no proof, then.” Said with a sort of tempered stoicism, as if he were attempting to gently guide a very mislead soul away from a dire mistake without losing his own composure. He put down his quill, and with a heavy sigh, looked up at you, his eyes as soft as his tone. “I wouldn’t put it below him, considering what lengths he’s willing to resort to.”

He spoke as if he knew Childe; as if he shared your vendetta, stroke for stroke. Part of you wanted to allow him to pretend, to let someone beyond you and a child too young to fully understand the horror she was facing share in your misery, if only in kind words and appearances. Part of you wanted to carve his tongue from his mouth and leave him to bleed. “Childe’s not that kind of man. He wouldn’t do something so underhanded.”

“Most people wouldn’t consider kidnapping a reasonable course of action, either, yet he’s already demonstrated his tolerance for that.” A hint of levity, the ghost of a sympathetic smile. “It’d be safer for you to remain in the manor, for the time being.”

Two things to you occurred in very short order.

The first was, of course, how familiar your frustration felt. It was the same little irk that’d coiled in your chest when you were with Childe, when months and months of playing dutiful, docile captive failed to earn you the freedoms he’d promised it would. You knew, rationally, that one circumstance was not like the other, that there was no reason to hold the two so close in your chest, and yet, the feeling remained.

The second was that you didn’t recall telling Diluc that you had been kidnapped. Kept hostage, sure, broken down and forced to build yourself up, but not kidnapped. That - the first days you’d spent in Childe’s damp cellar, confused and terrified and utterly helpless to do anything but bite at his fingertips and fight against your restraints - was not something he was meant to know.

You paused for a long moment, your lips parted but your tongue useless. Diluc let his head lull to the side, bringing up a hand to cup your face. “I promise, it’s for your safety.” The pad of his thumb ran over your cheek. “You know that I’ve grown fond of you, don’t you?”

“As I have, of you.”

“And you know that it would hurt me, to see you walk into a trap when this is so nearly over?”

“I suppose it would.”

“So trust me. This is the last time I’ll ask you to put aside your freedom.” You believed that this was the last time he would ask, surely. “For Lina’s sake, if not your own.”

You forced yourself to swallow. “If I tried to walk through the doors to your manor with Lina in my arms and no intention or returning, would you let me leave?”

His eyes were so terribly soft. “Surely, my fiancé would be smart enough to answer that for themself.”

You grit your teeth, locking your jaw into place. “And you promise that you’ll keep us safe, in exchange for my captivity?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t use that kind of language,” he sighed. “But, yes. As safe as treasured gems and as comfortable as royalty.”

You held out for a moment, and then, allowed your eyes to fall shut, letting out a deep exhale. “That’s all I want. For Lina and I to be safe.” You melted into his warmth, nuzzling into his palm. “Thank you, Master Diluc.”

That may have been the widest you’d ever seen him smile. “The pleasure is mine, dear.”

~

Your letter contained five words and five words exactly – ‘I want to go home’. You left it unsigned, addressed it to one of the Northern Bank’s secondary locations on the outskirts of Liyue, and passed it off to the messenger who came weekly to collect the Winery’s mail personally. His response came the next day, in the form of a note bound to the leg of a raven, its feathers wet from flying through the storms that claimed Mondstadt’s skies so often in the summer.

‘Finally.’

He arrived two nights later, accompanied by no soldiers or subordinates. You caught him among the rolling hills, his coat blending with the grey sky, but did not dare to leave the manor until nightfall, when you could gather Lina in your arms and take to wandering through the mansion under the guise of soothing her most recent fit. You slipped out of a ground-story window left unlocked with little difficulty, barefoot and with nothing but your Vision at your side. You did not have the luxury of preparation, as you had with Childe. Anything you might’ve taken, you would’ve taken from DIluc, and you couldn’t give him an excuse to hunt you down.

You didn’t have to look for Childe. He was waiting for you on the beach, where the road to Stone Gate first met the bay. You saw his smile, first, brilliant and fanged, then his eyes, catching in the moonlight, fixating on you before falling to Lina, slumped against your chest. Against your better instincts, you set her down, leaning her against an apple tree. You doubted she would wake up, but if she did, the fluttering leaves and fallen fruit would distract her before she could notice the water.

With little delay, you returned to Childe. He waited for you to face him with an uncharacteristic patience. “You’re bringing her along?”

“You may have outgrown Lina, but she’s still my daughter.” You attempted to hold yourself straight and retain as much pride as possible, but you cracked soon enough, bowing your head and shrinking into a meeker, much less resilient creature. “You were right about him. He’s just as bad as you are, and if I am to be at the mercy of a monster, I’d rather it be the monster brave enough to speak its threats aloud.”

He took a step toward you, closing what little distance you’d attempted to maintain. “You’ve chosen such touching words for our reunion.” You had to fight not to tremble as his hand came to rest on your hip, then skating upward, towards the curve of your side. “We’ll have to tame that clever tongue of yours as soon as we get back to Liyue, but the rest might have to wait until Snezhnaya. I've already asked the Tsaritsa for leave. I just know you’re going to need my full attention, sweetheart.”

You could feel the rain picking up again, weighing down your clothes, turning Childe’s coat a shade darker. You pretended not to notice, not to care. “…and Lina will be safe?”

“Safe enough, at whatever boarding school she ends up in.” He spoke casually, as if he didn’t care at all for the girl he’d been willing to kill for only weeks ago. “As long as you stay where you’re supposed to be, no harm will come to her by my hand.”

He made no promises concerning the hands and weapons of those operating under his command.

“That’s all I want,” you sighed, and then, raising your voice to speak above the pounding rain, the thunder rolling in the distance, “I… I just want her to have a home, even if that home must be yours.”

You buried your face in his chest, and he cooed, his free hand slipping underneath you chin, coaxing your head back until you were forced to stare into his eyes, as deep as the abyss, as empty as the starless sky. You balled his drenched coat in your fists as his lips came to rest against yours, the kiss gentle save for the grin that laid beneath it, as sharp as a blade and twice as fatal.

You could only be thankful that this blade’s wielder was such a fool.

It was a flash frost; a single wave of cryo energy strong enough to freeze the raindrops that surrounded him mid-air. In the blink of an eye, his body was encased in ice – the shell fragile, but strong enough to render Childe immobile as you wrenched yourself away from him, your composure faltering into a collection of muffled screams and frantic breaths. You wasted precious seconds wiping the frost from your hands and tearing the heavy coin purse from his belt before adding another layer of ice, binding his feet to the ground and his hands to his chest, ensuring that he would not be able to break free until your handiwork began to melt. You started to turn away, to return to Lina, but hesitated at the last moment. With shaking hands and grit teeth, you unhooked the gem of his Vision from its holder, and with all of your meager strength, threw it into the bay, praying that the current would not be able to carry it back to shore.

With only a deep inhale and another second taken to gather yourself, you gathered Lina in your arms, fled into the wilderness, and didn’t dare to look back until Childe and the Dawn Winery were both out of sight.

~

Liyue was where it would’ve made the least sense for you to go, so that was where you went. You treated main roads like necessary evils, stopping by the carts of travelling merchants and staying in roadside inns only when the wilderness proved too hostile for Lina. You were frugal with Childe’s mora, but no more so than any weary traveler would’ve been with their limited supplies. Paranoia drew attention, and attention had only ever served to make your life more difficult.

You journeyed to Liyue Harbor, remaining as close to the ports as possible. After securing a board room with an elderly couple content to fawn over Lina, you fell back into your own habits – lingering in the shadowed corners of the darkest taverns, nursing their cheapest liquor while you spoke at length on your plans to venture to Sumeru, then beyond, wherever Teyvat would have you. When you spotted soldiers with grey coats, you spoke a little louder.

You crossed paths with a captain with a missing eye and a white-haired companion, telling tales of all the many storms and sea monsters her crew had bested and brandishing a fearsome claymore. For the first time, you told someone of your true intentions, let your genuine excitement seep through when she mentioned there may be a vacant bunk on her ship when she next left the harbor. When you told her of your young daughter, she laughed and said that a little young blood might help to liven up the voyage. When she asked what you were so eager to get away from, you smiled and told her that you had monsters of your own.

Lina took her first unassisted steps aboard the Crux, spoke her first word; ‘sea’, due to the influence of the sailors who coddled her. You almost mourned having to leave the vessel behind by the time you docked in Inazuma, but you had come too far to let yourself be swayed so easily. You had always been the type to seek shelter, and you would not betray yourself simply because you had been betrayed.

Although you were reluctant to leave Lina in the care of another for any longer than a few hours, you trusted Beidou, and the reassurance that you would not have to leave her side again did much to soothe your nerves. Escaping Ritou without the proper documentation was child’s play, as was making your way to Inazuma City, or more specifically, the Tenshukaku – high and mighty where it sat above the rest of the city, a fortress of stone and steel painted with blushing sakura petals and violet banners. You were no spy, but you did what you could to stow yourself away inside of it, to remain unseen as you slipped into the gaps between the Shogunates’ constantly revolving patrols, as you stowed yourself away in the shadows of the Shogun’s grand hall. You waited until she had seen her guests, her commissioners, her generals, until she had sent her guards away and claimed meditation as her excuse. You waited until she summoned you, as you knew she would. You hadn't grown so bold as to think you could escape an archon's perception, but you did consider yourself fortunate that her first reaction had not been to strike you down.

“Come out, little bird,” she called, once you were the only mortal soul left in her company. You abided, stepping out from your hiding place and into the center of her hall, where she could evaluate you from her dais freely. “What an obedient assassin,” She clicked her tongue, as if just coming out of deep thought. “Tell me, did you plan to end my life from such a distance, or were you simply going to wait for me to die of old age?”

“I’m no assassin, Your Eminence,” you said, with a shallow bow. You must’ve been an unsettling sight – sea-worn and ragged, weak from your exertions but too stiff to tremble under her gaze. “I merely come to offer you my services.” You paused, raising your heel and taping it once against the matted floor. In a matter of seconds, each and every inch had been covered by a solid layer of frost – perfectly reflective and perfectly unmarred until you took a step forward, the ice splintering and creeping to either side underneath the soles of your feet. “I am well-traveled, and have found myself in possession of a great deal of knowledge concerning Snezhnayan politics and Mondstadt’s commercial trade and customs. You’ll find that I’m not lacking for insights into the ongoings of any other nation, either.”

She hummed. “And what do you ask for in return?”

“Only your protection, your trust, and your assurance that my daughter will grow up happy and safe on your islands.” You pressed your tongue into the roof of your mouth, squaring your shoulders. “All things the almighty Raiden Shogun is capable of providing, I’m sure.”

Her answer was delayed, but you caught something in her eyes – a bright flicker of curiosity, of interest. Interest, and nothing else. For that, you would be eternally thankful. You would’ve fled that very moment, if there had been.  

You had grown so, so very tired of living on the whims of powerful men, after all.

It was long past time you gave a powerful goddess a try.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 30: Blood

Joel and Tommy run into trouble on patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-29 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 7.5k

A/N: Hi y’all, I’m stashing this whole chapter below a jump because it’s been brought to my attention that the major event of this chapter is less common knowledge and more of a spoiler than I really realized it was. There is a major plot point for TLOU2 below. I’m sorry I didn’t tag the whole fic that way (going back to update that now) and I apologize if this spoiled things for people who were trying to go in blind. This is the first chapter with any big overlap and if you want to bow out now, I totally understand. My DMs are open if you want to know more without full spoilers and if there’s a way to keep reading without knowing the plot of TLOU2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Dina kissed me.” 

“What!” You yelped and Ellie’s eyes went wide before she clamped a hand over your mouth. 

“Shhhh!” She looked around, her breath rising in front of her. But the only people out right now were inside the stable, a good 50 feet behind you and far enough away that you doubted any of them heard you, even if you were loud. “Jesus, Bambi…” 

She released your mouth and you tried not to giggle. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Good for you, kiddo! Told you not to count the girl out because she also fucks men…” 

“There’s no way she meant it,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Get real.” 

“Why not?” You asked, brows raised. “Why shouldn’t she mean it?” 

“Because she’s Dina,” Ellie said, as though that explained everything. You just looked at her and she rolled her eyes again. “She was just trying to stir shit up because her and Jesse split up…” 

“Uh huh.” 

“And I was convenient,” she finished. “That’s it, that’s all it was…” 

“And you know this because you asked her, I’m sure.” 

“Fuck off,” she snapped. “Look, I didn’t drag you out here to figure that shit out…” 

“You sure about that?” 

“I dragged you out here,” she said, ignoring you, “to try and figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.” 

“Kiss her again,” you shrugged. “That’s what I’d do…” 

“I’m being serious!” She hissed at you. “I have to go on patrol with her in like half an hour, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

You sighed and smiled a little, putting your hands in the pockets of the coat Joel had given back to you that morning. He said he hadn’t been wearing it but it had to have been hanging close enough to things he did wear and it smelled a bit like him. 

“First, you need to calm down,” you said gently. She looked like she was going to snap at you but you silenced her with a look. “I know it’s hard but regardless of how you want this to turn out, try not to be in your own head about it, OK? She’s still your friend and I’m guessing you want her to stay your friend, right?” 

“Duh.” 

“So eloquent,” you said and she rolled her eyes. “Look, you have two options. You can pretend it never happened and see if she brings it up or you can be up front about it and ask her.” 

“Is there a way to bring it up without looking like a desperate fucking loser?” She asked, brows raised. 

You shrugged. 

“Tough line to walk but I think you’ve got it in you.” 

“Jesus…” 

“Ellie,” you took her shoulders and made her actually face you. “It will be OK. Might be awkward for a bit but it’s not the end of the world. I promise. You can talk to her. She’s your friend for a reason and it’s because you’re kind and you’re smart and you’re funny. Even without the help of Will Livingston. None of that shit changes just because you kissed. Alright?” 

“Yeah,” she said, dropping her head to your shoulder with a heavy sigh. You put your arms around her and gave her a little squeeze but when she pulled back from you, her eyes were narrowed. “You’re in a weirdly good mood.” 

You frowned. 

“No I’m not.” 

“Uh yeah, you are,” she said, stepping back and looking you up and down as though she she were inspecting you. You just raised your eyebrows at her, expectant, when her mouth dropped open for a moment before she shifting to a shit eating grin. 

“Ellie…” 

“You fucked Joel!” 

“We need to have another conversation about the fact that what happens between my legs is none of your business,” you muttered, turning her around to head back toward the stable. 

“No we don’t,” she said. “This is great, you two have been so depressing the last few months…” 

“We have not!” 

“Please,” she rolled her eyes. “You were basically dead for weeks and Joel barely left the house for who knows how long.” 

“That… was less recent,” you said. “And it’s not your job to worry about us so let’s just…” you stopped just short of the stable doors. “How did you know?” 

“Know what?” 

“About…” you lowered your voice. “Joel. Not that I’m admitting to anything.” 

She smirked. 

“That coat’s been hanging in his front closet since you left.” You looked down at yourself and groaned. Her cocky smile grew. “You wanted the coat again. Bingo.” 

“Well just… keep it to yourself, alright?” You said, heading for the door. “I have no idea how to handle this with Savvy yet so cool it for bit. Please.” 

“I can keep my mouth shut you know,” she said as you opened the door to the stable and she went in. She opened her mouth to keep talking but Dina came up to her, smiling, and she froze instead. 

“Hey Ellie,” she smiled a little bigger before looking at you. “Bambi, good to see you.” 

“You too,” you said, clapping Ellie on the shoulder. “Have fun out there.” 

She glared at you over Dina’s shoulder and you just shrugged and winked at her before taking care of the final things you needed to before getting everyone out the door on patrol. 

You seriously considered, for a moment, taking Joel’s hand and just dragging him back home when he told you that you’d be going out separately. Things with him were so raw and delicate and new again. Neglecting it for two days felt dangerous somehow, a tension setting into your limbs before you and Julie headed out. 

You were always last to leave the stables, always waiting until you knew the rest of the patrol was situated even though you knew Olivia could handle things just fine without you. She smiled - a vaguely amused look on her face - as you went back over everything for the third time. 

“I promise, it’s all good,” she said eventually. “Please go focus on killing infected and staying safe and leave managing the horses to me.” 

On the way out of town, you stopped by where the working dogs were kept and asked if you could bring Gatling along, Julie looking a little skeptical as the dog jumped on Renaissance and settled between your legs, her head draped over your bicep. 

“Used to ride like this with her all the time,” you said, kissing the top of the dog’s head. Gatling licked her lips once and curved her body into yours as you sat back in the saddle to make sure she had room. “I’ll let her down once we’re good and underway, she’ll keep up. She’s great at spotting infected and I’m guessing she could be a great patrol dog once we get her adjusted to working with more than just me…” 

“She definitely looks like she can hold her own,” Julie said, watching as Gatling started scanning the horizon, her ears perked and listening, ready to jump off your horse and run down any apparent threat. “What kind of dog is she, anyway?” 

“She’s a Belgian Malinois,” you said, giving her a scratch behind the ears. “They were police and military dogs before. She saved my ass from infected more than once and she kept my girl alive when I couldn’t…” You kissed her head again and she turned to lick your cheek before going back to watching for threats. “She’s a good girl.” 

“Good to know I’ve got someone out here who can really watch my back,” Julie teased lightly. “Not sure I trust you to do it…” 

“Why not?” You asked, gaping at her. “I’m a great shot, keep you alive no problem…” 

“You forget I saw you trying to show Ellie and Savvy how to shoot a basketball that one time,” she smiled a cocky smile. “You barely hit the backboard…” 

“OK shooting a basketball is a completely different animal,” you waved her off. “Where it counts, my aim is solid. Saved Tommy once.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“It’s true,” you said, nudging Renaissance a little faster. “Ask Joel…” 

“Joel, hm?” She brought her horse alongside yours. “Things happening there?” 

You tried to hide your smile but felt the edges of your mouth curve up, anyway. 

“Good for you!” Julie said. “Both because you’re my friend and I want you to be happy but also because I like being right and goddammit, if I’m going to get shot down for a man of all people at least it’s a man I was right about.” 

You laughed a little before you remembered you had things weren’t just magically fixed with Joel yet.

“Do me a favor and don’t mention it to anyone?” You said, looking down at Gatling. “I need to tell Savvy…” 

The dog looked up to you at the mention of her name and you gave her a small scratch. 

“Oh, right,” Julie winced a bit. “Yeah, that might be rough.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I need to figure out a way to do this without losing both of them. I can’t do that again, I just… I can’t.” 

“You’ll figure it out,” she said gently. “It will be OK. Just have to believe it, it’ll happen.” 

“I’ll do my best,” you smiled a little at her. “How’s shit with Karen, by the way?” 

“Oh God,” she laughed. “I’m not sure how much I should tell you…” 

The patrol was easy enough until the snow started flying. It was still, the two of you talking, Gatling sometimes running ahead and acting more like a puppy than you remembered her being before, making you smile. It felt like if she could be like this - young and free and more than what survival had made her - so could Savvy. She would get there someday. You could get her back and make her understand once she was ready. 

Once the snow picked up, you and Julie decided to hunker down instead of pressing on to what was meant to be your final spot for the day. Though you were pretty sure you were only an hour or so shy of it if the weather weren’t working against you. 

“OK this is bullshit is what this is,” Julie said as she stomped snow off her boots and shook it out of her hair. You laughed a little as you got a fire going in the fireplace of the old house you’d reached for the night. It was just at the edge of a small subdivision, a spot you’d ridden past before but never spent much time in. The two of you had gotten the horses settled in the garage and Julie had done a quick walk around the immediate area to make sure there were no threats before coming in to settle for the night. “White, fluffy bullshit.” 

“Not getting you in the holiday spirit?” You teased. “Thanksgiving is coming up, Christmas right after that…” 

“Yeah, I’m already counting down until spring,” she said, shucking her coat and joining you by the fire. “I can only live with this for so long.” 

“I kinda like it,” you said as the fire caught the larger log and you watched it start to go up. “I like that seasons actually change here. It definitely made it easier to mark the passage of time when I didn’t have a calendar.” 

“Well I guess when you put it that way,” she sighed dramatically and you laughed. “But now that you’re in Jackson, we’ll keep you straight on the passage of time. The snow can go.” 

Julie had brought a bottle of whiskey from the Bison - “A perk of the job,” she said - and you were reminded of sleepovers when you were in high school when you and your friends would swipe booze from your parents’ liquor cabinets and get drunk around a bonfire. 

“I feel like we’re going to regret this in the morning,” you said, snug in your sleeping bag on the floor as the fire dimmed, head fuzzy and limbs tingling from the alcohol. Gatling’s head rested on your stomach.

“We can just sleep in a bit,” she scoffed and you heard her adjust on the couch. “What are they gonna do, fire us from patrol for running late? Doubt it.”

You laughed a little. 

“Guess there’s not much to contend with out there right now, anyway,” you said, closing your eyes. “Been quiet as hell all day. Doubt it’ll change overnight.” 

“It’d better not,” she said, sounding sleepy. “Better not be more snow, either.” 

You laughed once. 

“Better snow than infected,” you said. “Or raiders.” 

She didn’t respond and the room was quiet for a moment before you heard a soft snore coming from the couch. 

You laughed and then sighed, pulling a hand from the sleeping bag to scratch Gatling behind the ears. She sighed and curled up tighter to you. 

“It’s gonna be different when we go back,” you whispered to her, absently stroking one of her soft ears. “You can still come home with me, though. Maybe sleep with Savvy instead for a bit. I’m sure you miss her.” 

You tried to think about how to tell Savvy about Joel. It would have been a hard conversation under any circumstance, you thought. Not one you’d ever thought you’d need to have when you’d started caring for her. The idea of being with anyone long term then had been so foreign it hadn’t even crossed your mind. After Marisa, you’d given up on that. Just the occasional lover when there was a woman around who was interested as she was passing through had been enough. 

But Jackson was different. Joel was different. You had safety and security in Jackson and you loved Joel in a way you’d never thought you’d find, especially not after spending so long alone. But how could you tell Savvy something that you knew would hurt her? How could you tell her anything at all when she hadn’t spoken to you in weeks? 

“She’s gonna come around, right?” You whispered to Gatling. You felt her lick her lips and sigh against you. You closed your eyes but left your hand on the dog. “I’ll get her to trust me again. I will.” 

When the pounding on the front door woke you up, you were barely even aware you’d been asleep. But it was daylight outside and Gatling was standing near the front door, crouched low and snarling. 

“Wha…” Julie lifted her head, a groggy look on her face. 

“I got it,” you said, head spinning as you shoved your way out of your sleeping bag. “You stay put.”

“Thank fuck,” she groaned, dropping her head back on the couch and draping her arm over her eyes. You laughed and shook your head, going for the door. 

“Gatling.” The dog looked up at you, ready to obey. “Heel.” 

She fell back from the door and went to your leg, still tight against you, as you opened the door. 

“Glad I found you,” Gene, Jesse’s patrol partner said, pushing past you into the house without waiting for an invitation. “It’s a mess out there…” 

“That’s why we stopped here for the night,” you said, leaving the door open and nodding to Gatling, who immediately ran outside to pee. You waited by the door and let her back in, the dog sticking to your side again. 

“We can’t be that late getting out of here,” Julie grumbled, sitting up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not that it’s not just a blast to see you, Gene…” 

“We’re missin’ people,” he said, more to you than Julie. 

“What?” You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest, the after effects of the alcohol suddenly fading fast. “What do you mean we’re missing people, who are we missing?” 

“Joel and Tommy,” he said. “They never made it where they were supposed to last night and we can’t find ‘em….” 

“They probably stopped for the night like we did,” Julie waved him off. “Did you not see the weather last night? It was a shit show…” 

“Probably,” Gene nodded. “But they’d have made it there by now and we didn’t see them comin’ back down, either. No sign of ‘em. Ellie and Dina weren’t where they were supposed to be, either, but we at least found a fuckin’ trail for them, sent Jesse on to get them back in one piece…” 

You were already moving to put your boots on, heart pounding, Gatling giving you a small whine. You put a handful of jerky on the ground for her and refilled her water dish before you started packing up your sleeping bag. 

“I’m sure they’re fine…” Julie said, actually sitting up in the sleeping bag now, her legs pulled into her chest and watching you closely. 

“We should split up,” you said, pulling on your coat. “Cover more ground…”  

“Don’t know if that’s smart…” Gene began but you cut him off. 

“I can handle myself,” you said, harsher than you’d really meant to. “I’ve got Gatling, I’ve got my guns, I’ve got my axe. That’s all I had for 20 damn years and I made it just fine then. If you’re worried, you and Julie can stick together but I’m not gonna sit here and talk about how to minimize risk when they’re out there dealing with who knows what…” 

“Bambi,” Julie said gently, getting off the couch and taking you by the shoulders. “It’s OK.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “It’ll be OK when I find him in one piece, then it’ll be OK, I’m not…” 

“Gene and I will go one way,” she cut you off. “You and Gatling go the other. We’ll cover more ground. OK?” 

Gene sighed, looking between the two of you. 

“You got a death wish, don’t make me stop you,” he said gruffly. “Gonna go get my horse some water, we can head out.” 

You watched him go, a nervous energy coursing through your body. 

“Hey,” Julie said, taking your face carefully in her hands and making you look at her. “It is OK. It’s Joel and Tommy. They’re very, very good at this. They’re OK.” 

There was a pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you had to fight to swallow past. She took your hands, giving them a squeeze. 

“I can’t lose him now,” your voice was thick. “I just got him back, I can’t…” 

“I know,” she said softly, a sad smile on her face and you were struck, for a moment, by just how pretty she was. She pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, her lips lingering on your skin for a second, before she pulled back. “We’ll find him. We will.” 

“Thank you,” you nodded and took a deep breath, one tear slipping free, before looking down at your dog who was watching, ready and waiting. 

“Gatling, heel.” 

She moved to be immediately with you and you went to the garage, quickly saddling your horse and mounting up. You called Gatling up and she settled at the front of your saddle, already watching for incoming threats with her ears perked as you set off. 

You pushed Renaissance harder than you should have through the deep snow, trying to reach some part of Joel and Tommy’s patrol path so you could find some sense of where they might have gone. 

It wasn’t long before you found the path cut by a group of infected. A large one, judging by the footprints in the snow. You didn’t see a sign of Joel or Tommy but the swath of disturbed snow and brush from the hoard as so thorough you doubted you’d be able to tell if two horses had come that way, too. And, knowing Tommy and Joel, they’d have tracked the infected…

You looked higher for a moment, above where people would disturb branches and realized some branches on trees were clean of snow - too high for a person to bump on their own but just the height a tall man on horseback would hit. 

“Goddammit,” you muttered, steering Renaissance in that direction and pushing her on. 

The horse was breathing hard and heavy when you reached a mansion outside the normal patrol area, fully gated with piles of dead infected outside. You looked through your binoculars and saw tracks from the horses leading inside. But something about it set you on edge. Something wasn’t right. 

You commanded Gatling down and tied Renaissance to a tree that provided at least some shelter. 

“Back soon,” you said quietly, giving her a scratch and offering her an apple from your pack. You made sure your weapons were loaded, rifle at the ready, handgun and knife at your hip, axe across your back. Gatling looked at you, licking her lips once, waiting for a command. 

“Gatling, heel,” you said. “Hunt.” 

She latched onto your side like glue, crouched lower and keeping her mouth closed and you moved as quickly as you could for the gates of the mansion. 

There was no one guarding the place that you could see but you closed the gate behind you. If that had been enough to keep infected out before, you weren’t about to argue with it now. There were signs of plenty of people here, footprints of various sizes all heading for shelter inside. You tried not to think about the fact that you might have to torture information out of someone who left those footprints. If they had taken Joel and Tommy’s horses, you’d have to work quick to find what they knew so you could get to them. Torture could be the best option and, if it meant saving their lives, it was a price you were happy to pay. Because they had to still be alive, they had to be. 

The mansion was dark and almost eerily still. It reminded you of some of the places you’d visited when dropping of horses you’d trained to be trail animals for rich assholes before the outbreak, the trappings of extreme wealth couched in some idyllic, fictional version of the wild west. People who in places like this couldn’t handle the real thing. Real wildness would chew them up and spit them out. 

You crept through the house, looking for some sign of people, too afraid to call for Joel and Tommy and potentially bring down who knows how many people on you when you heard it, an agonized cry in a voice you knew, one you knew better than almost anyone else. 

“Joel,” you breathed, and you were running, Gatling at your heels. 

You knew that you should stop, assess, try to form a plan but he screamed again and you plowed ahead. A plan didn’t matter, all that mattered was one thing: getting to Joel. 

You had to get to him. 

He had to be OK. 

He had to be. 

*** 

Joel knew what it was like to die. 

He’d come close enough enough times over the years. Even before the apocalypse began he had a few near shaves. A fall off a ladder at a job site and the thought of “this is it” as he crashed down, the contemplation of what would happen with his daughter if he was gone, if he’d done enough to make it that she would be OK. A car accident that knocked him out and disoriented him enough that, for a moment in the hospital, he thought he was dead. 

The times since had been different, more acute. For a while, it felt like dying would have been a mercy. There was some innate biology that kept his body pushing to survive when his mind saw death as a welcome outcome when he got stabbed or shot when he was taking what he needed to survive or getting the shit kicked out of him when he got overrun smuggling. 

This, though, was something else. He didn’t want to die anymore, not really. He had you and Ellie and even Savvy. He had a reason to live now - live, not just survive - and he wanted it, wanted that life that was hanging there, so tantalizingly close on the horizon as heat of his blood pooled around him. 

He still wasn’t entirely sure what happened, how he’d ended up here like this. He’d reached the girl he’d seen through the binoculars as she damn near got bit, he’d shot the infected and pulled her up just as its teeth were getting close to her neck. 

“We gotta move!” Tommy yelled, shooting another infected. 

Joel gave the girl a once over as quick as he could. 

“You bit?” He asked. She was panting for breath but shook her head. “Got a gun?” She nodded. “Good, let’s go.” 

He tucked her behind him and led the way, trying to find a way through and out. There were dozens of infected, riled up and searching for something to sink their teeth into, desperate for someone to turn. 

“Shouldn’t be this damn many!” Tommy yelled as they scrambled back toward the horses. “Why are there this damn many?” 

“Worry about that later!” Joel snapped, dragging the girl along behind him. She stopped and shot two that were getting too close for comfort and, even in that moment, Joel could appreciate that she was a good shot. “We have to get the fuck away from here, try and lose ‘em…” 

“Think we can get all the way back to town?” Tommy asked, reloading his gun. 

“Hell no,” Joel shook his head. “Need to find somewhere else to hole up…” 

“My friends,” the girl said, looking between the two of them. “We’ve been staying at a mansion, not far from here. It’s got a fence around it, we’ve got the perimeter secure, if we can get there we’ll have help…” 

Joel and Tommy looked at each other. It was unlikely a girl this young would be running with raiders, more likely a group just passing through as they headed for the coast from a QZ. Tommy shrugged and Joel looked back to her. 

“Right,” he said. “We’ll head there, we got horses outside, you can ride with me and just tell us where to go. I’m Joel, that’s my brother Tommy, we’re from a settlement a few hours from here…” 

“Joel,” she said, something shifting in her eyes when she said it. 

“Right,” Joel said, not paying much attention. That seemed stupid, now. But he’d been so worried about Ellie, about you, about getting out of there to make sure you both were OK. “What’s your name, kiddo?” 

“Abby,” she said, an odd twinge in her voice. “My… I’m Abby.” 

They made it to the horses by the skin of their damn teeth, infected at their heels the whole way. 

The kid was right, at least. The mansion was secure, her friends clearing the area with molotov cocktails, infected burning just outside the gates. 

“Jesus Christ that was close,” Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Fuck, ain’t come that close in a while…” 

“Couldn’t get a good look at ‘em,” Joel said, looking back at the burning bodies. “See any bullet holes? Any sign they might have run into the girls?” 

Tommy’s giddy smile over surviving faded and he gave Joel’s shoulder a squeeze. 

“I’m sure they’re alright, Joel,” he said. “Shit, Bambi’s a deadeye. And you taught Ellie everything you know. They probably didn’t even come across these fuckers and if they did, they’re fine. They’re fine, both have made it through worse than a few infected…” 

“We should get inside,” Abby said, looking more at one of her friends than at Joel. “Now.” 

Things seemed normal then. Tommy was trying to get the group to come back to Jackson, Joel was worrying about you and Ellie. 

And then they introduced themselves to the group and it shifted. Just like it had with Abby, the change sudden and sharp. 

“Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or somethin’,” Joel said, thinking it was a joke. His mind was still elsewhere, still on you, still on Ellie, still on making sure you both were OK. He wanted to be back in Jackson, back in his quiet house, back in bed with you, pillows actually brought up from the living room and you close enough that he could trace little patterns over your soft skin. 

“Because they have.” 

He didn’t even see the shot coming, didn’t have a chance to warn Tommy to run, his brother on the ground - unconscious? Dead? He wasn’t sure - before he could even think. Joel screamed as the bullet tore through his leg and he went down, straining to get to Tommy through the pain but they swarmed him, these kids his brother had just been trying to talk into coming back to Jackson. They held him down, his back to a wall as Abby knelt in front of him, her face twisted into a snarl. She looked so different than she had when he’d first spotted her, alone and afraid and cornered the way he was now. 

“Joel Miller,” her teeth were gritted, the rifle tight in her grip. 

“Who are you?” He managed, pulling against the people at his arms, people who looked like kids, fucking kids. 

“Guess.” 

“Look,” he grunted and gave his arms a yank but they thrust him back against the glass. “Don’t know what I did to ya but I know I didn’t do it on purpose. Done a lot of shit in my time but I don’t hurt kids and you’re a bunch of kids…” 

“You kill my dad on purpose?” She pressed the barrel of the gun to his chin. “You slaughter a whole hospital of people who were just trying to save humanity on purpose?”

Joel’s stomach dropped. Of course. Of course saving Ellie would come back for him. Of course now that he finally had a life that was worth living it was getting ripped away for the one thing he couldn’t regret. 

“I did what I had to do,” he said, trying to free himself again, even though he knew it was futile. “But it was just me. Do what you need to do, make whatever speech you got saved up, but leave my brother out of it.” 

She squared her jaw, a look of disgust on her face as she got to her feet. She shoved her gun into the hands of the man - barely a man, almost still a boy, Joel thought - beside her. 

“Tourniquet his leg,” she snapped. The others looked around, hesitating. “Do it!” 

She stalked off as another girl obeyed, Joel trying not to scream through the pain as she tightened the belt around his leg. His head was still spinning when she came back into view, a golf club in her hands. 

“You don’t get to ask me for a damn thing,” she looked at him with so much rage, so much hate that, for a moment, he pitied her. That someone so young was so angry and in so much pain, that her father had cast his lot in with a bunch of child killers and paid with his life, leaving her alone, was tragic. “And you don’t get to rush this.” 

She jerked her head toward the people holding him in place and they looked at each other for a moment before stepping back. He tried to move but his leg was fucking useless and Abby swung the club, catching him in the arm before she forced him all the way to the floor with a pained cry. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here now. Consciousness was hazy. So was the feeling in his limbs. At times, it was like he was floating, far outside his body and somewhere far softer and warmer and kinder than here. Part of him was back in his living room, almost a year ago now, on Christmas Eve when it was just you and him and he buried himself inside the hot clutch of your body by the glow of the holiday lights. He was lost in the feel of you, so soft and warm below him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt closer to another person in his life, lacing his fingers with yours and looking into your eyes as you came. He’d promised to take care of you then and he’d meant it, he’d meant it so far beyond that moment inside of you, he’d meant it for the rest of his life he’d take care of you. 

He just hadn’t thought it would be so soon. 

At least, he thought, he’d made things right with you. At least he’d gotten to tell you that he loved you again, at least he wasn’t dying wondering if you could ever have forgiven him. At least things were right with Ellie, at least she’d loved him again and she’d let him love her the way she deserved to be loved. At least she had you and Savvy now, people who would love her that way, too, and make sure she was OK. She was going to need someone to make sure she was OK when he was gone, she was so stubborn and she tried to be so much stronger than she needed to be. She needed someone. So did you. 

At least he’d get to be with Sarah again. She was so much closer now than she’d been before, barely out of reach now, somewhere quiet and safe and peaceful. Just far enough away that what was happening now couldn’t reach her. At least she wasn’t seeing this. At least you and Ellie weren’t seeing this.

Something shifted in the room, the club not landing on Joel’s body again, chaos drawing him back into his body again. 

Everything hurt, like he’d been put through a meat grinder. He wasn’t sure he’d ever hurt this much, at least not physically. Every breath was pain. He’d been lying here long enough that some of the blood pooling around his legs had gone cold. 

There was a vicious snarl, the crack of a gunshot and he realized, suddenly, what happened. 

“Gatling!” He could barely adjust his head enough to see where you were. Your rifle was on the ground but so was the only other gun Joel remembered seeing in the room. Your axe was tight in your hands as you threw one of the men back with a roar. You kicked the guns at your feet behind you and pointed to Joel and snapped your fingers. “Guard!” 

The dog ran to him and crouched around his body, hunched low, snarling and barking. You screamed and Joel struggled to see what was happening, tried to get up but he was only able to make it a few inches off the ground before he collapsed back down, his body too broken to properly obey. You were so close, you were in trouble and he tried to focus on it. He had to get you out of here, he had to take care of you, he’d promised to take care of you. He was supposed to protect you, that’s what he was built to do and he was failing. 

“Gatling, bite!” Your command was more of a shriek, sharp and fearful.

The dog shot away from him for a moment, a snarl followed by a pained wail and Joel could see enough to make out that the animal had tackled someone near you as you scrambled to your feet, more of them coming for you. Joel tried again to move but his injured leg gave out that time, collapsing below him before he could put even half his weight on it. 

“Gatling, release!” The screaming stopped and he heard another snap. “Guard!” 

The dog went back to him, snarling and snapping and 

“Bambi!” 

Joel turned his head too quick to the door, his neck screaming in pain, to see Ellie standing there, her eyes wide.

“Ellie!” He yelled through gritted teeth. 

“Go!” You screamed at her, bringing your axe around, swinging wide on another person coming for you, just catching their arm. “Get help, get Jesse! Go!” 

You circled toward the door, axe up, daring any of them to try to follow her. 

“You’re not a part of this!” Abby prowled toward you. “Don’t make me kill you, too.” 

“He’s a part of this so I am, too,” you panted. “If you wanna try and kill me, you better do it quick and you better be damn sure you do it right because the second I’m down, that dog will rip your throats out one by fucking one. She’s done it before, I’ve seen it. You’ll have to kill me - which she won’t take lyin’ down - and get to the guns behind me to take her down. She works quick, hell of a lot quicker than me. If you’re fightin’ both of us, you don’t stand a chance. You that confident? I am. So is she.” 

Gatling snarled as if on cue. 

“Other option is to get the fuck out of here,” you said. Joel could just see you around the dog, blood dripping from your side, lip split open. “We got backup comin’, we’re from a settlement of hundreds and we’ve fought off raiders and infected for fuckin’ years, think we can handle a band of fucking children without much trouble. This worth dyin’ for? Right now, I got your death warrant. Up to you if I sign it.” 

“Abby,” one of the men said. “Let’s go.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She snapped. “You want to just go? Now? Let him live?” 

Gatling snarled again. 

“You’re runnin’ short on time!” You growled, teeth clenched tight. “Now or never!” 

“You lost control of the situation,” the man hissed. “We’re not all dying for your fucking revenge mission.” 

She turned toward Joel and he watched the hatred and the rage move through her. He watched her think about bringing the club down one more time, just to see if she could land a final, killing blow before the dog struck hers. She moved a fraction of an inch toward him and Gatling adjusted, a vicious bark and a snarl ripping from her. 

“He wouldn’t want you to die for this,” the man said quietly, so low Joel doubted you could hear. “And Miller probably won’t survive this, anyway. It’s done. Let��s go.” 

“Fine,” she bit out, throwing the club aside. Joel tried his best to follow her with his eyes, praying that she wouldn’t go for you. Once the people had moved away from him toward you and the door, you called Gatling to you, the dog standing between you and the aggressors, snarling and threatening. They left, watching you closely, without a word.

The door closed and you dropped the axe, grabbing a gun from behind you on the ground and limping for Joel, blood dripping down your leg. 

“Joel,” you fell to your knees beside him. He tried to say something but all that left him was a pained moan. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, you’re alright…” 

“Tommy,” he managed, panting for breath. “Check… Tommy….” 

“OK,” you said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Gatling, guard.” 

You snapped your fingers and pointed to Joel again. The dog obediently came and positioned herself between him and the door, body like a coiled spring ready to attack. You went to Tommy and checked his pulse before adjusting him. Joel heard him groan and you said something he couldn’t quite make out before you were back to him, a bag with you this time. 

“They’ve gotta have something in here,” you said, ripping through the contents. 

“Baby…” 

“Tommy’s alright,” you said, glancing at Joel before going back to the bag. “He’s comin’ around. Ellie will be back soon, she’s bringing help, it’s going to be OK Joel, it is…” 

“Baby.” 

“Hush.” 

You found what you were looking for, a bag with some medical stuff inside. You set it nearby and looked over Joel’s back, wincing as you did. 

“Need to look at the front of you, too,” you said. “I’m going to roll you over, alright?” 

“Baby…” 

“Shut up, Joel.” 

Your hands shook and he cried out in pain as you moved him onto his back, flinching when you saw his leg.

“Jesus,” you whispered. “What’d they do to you?” 

“Baby,” he said again, managing to lift a hand enough to almost reach your face. You took it, gently guiding his bloody palm the rest of the way to your cheek as you leaned down into it. “You’re bleedin’.” 

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself. “It’s fine, I’ll be fine…” 

“Need to take care,” he had to stop for a second, grinding his teeth through the pain as it wracked his body. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “Care of yourself. I’m… I can’t make it back, not like this…” 

“Shut up, Joel.” 

“Promised to protect you,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Lemme do it.” 

“Protect me later,” you said, setting his hand down and ripping the bag of medical gear open with your teeth. “Going to put bandages on your leg, see if we can let the tourniquet off, save the leg…” 

“Baby.”

“Shut UP, Joel!” 

He watched you work for a moment and you felt farther and farther away with every breath. He could feel himself fading and he wished you’d just stop, that you’d take care of yourself and just hold him while he could still feel you. 

“Need you to look after Ellie,” he said as you wound bandages around his thigh. “She’s gonna act like she doesn’t need anyone but she does and…”

“And she has you,” you cut him off with a glare. “So it doesn’t matter.” 

You released the tourniquet on his leg and it was more of a relief than he’d expected it to be, the pain of it fading to a dull enough roar that he’d forgotten it was there until the weight of it was lifted. 

“Gotta get this spot at your side, too…” you adjusted his shirt and leaned over him and he got a better look at your own side, a bright red splotch growing on your shirt, a long gash going from your ribs down toward your stomach. 

“You’re bleedin’, sweetheart.” 

“I know,” you said. “Getting you fixed up first…” 

“Baby.” 

“Joel, I swear…” 

“Need to get you and Tommy back,” he needed to stop for a second to catch his breath, the rise and fall of his chest straining his ribs. “Can’t… can’t die knowin’…” 

“You’re not dying here,” you snapped, your voice thick. “I just got you back, you’re not dying here, you’re coming home and you’re going to be OK and…” 

You sat back, looking at the spot on his side that you’d just bandaged, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist as you did. 

“Gotta take care of yours now,” he said, eyes tracing the spot at your side. But you shook your head. 

“Outta gauze.” 

“Baby…” 

“It’s not that bad,” you sniffed. “I’ll just… hold pressure until Ellie gets back. It’s OK, you’re gonna be OK, I can’t….” 

“Here,” he ground his teeth, breathing through another wave of pain. “Lay… lay with me. Cut side up, keep the blood from flowin’ too easy.” 

You looked at him for a moment before nodding and lying delicately next to him. He adjusted as best he could so he could see you, touch you. You’d been hit in the face at least twice, one of your eyes swelling shut and your lip split open. But you were still beautiful, so damn beautiful. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said softly. 

“Joel…” 

“Wanted… wanted so much more time with you and the girls,” he said quietly. Your skin was soft, so soft it seemed like the sensation of it might be the only thing holding him to the earth. “I’m so sorry we’re not gettin’ that…” 

“Stop talking like that,” you were crying now, not making any attempt to stop it. 

“It’ll be OK sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll… you’ll be alright. Ellie’s gonna need you, keep an eye on her for me. Keep her outta trouble. Savvy, too. She loves you… she’ll… she’ll come around…” 

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching out to cup his face, your fingers in his curls, one of the only places on his body he wasn’t bleeding. 

“I’m so happy we made things right,” he said, his eyes searching yours. He wondered, if he watched you closely enough, if he could bring the precise color of them with him wherever he was going. “I love you so damn much, sweetheart. Need you to know that, OK? I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you breathed. Your skin was so soft and your breath was warm on his skin. “I love you. I love you.” 

You said it again and again. It was the last thing Joel heard before he passed out. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Hi y'all ❤️

Again, begging for you to trust me, OK? OK.

I do love you but... feel free to yell at me in the comments or in my asks or DMs. I'll be responding to asks about the last chapter soon now that this one is up.

Thanks for going on this crazy ride with me!! It truly means the world.

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

[johnwickb1tsch]

🌻Small Town Girl🌻 ~ Part 2

Tex Johnson thought he was just passing through…until he set his eyes on you. 

Part 2 of a little Tex x Reader fic for my beloved @treedaddymcpuffpuff. ILYSM!😘

Warnings: mentions of past spousal abuse, mentions of animal abuse, religious trauma...you know, the usual social problems of depressed rural america... I can say that because I live here. divider by saradika part 1

2. 

You’re a heavy sleeper, but this takes the cake.

When you stagger into your kitchen and look out the window Tex’s Chevelle is parked half in your gravel driveway, half in your yard. And tethered to your fence post munching green grass to his heart’s content is a certain miniature equine who you’d tried to acquire with cold hard cash the night before.

Fuck.

You march outside in your threadbare nightgown and your bare feet, finding Tex asleep in the driver’s seat. How the hell did he even get this horse here with that car?

If he put Ziggy in the trunk you are going to murder him.

You pound on the window, and he wakes with a violent start. “Popsicles!”

“What?”

He looks around, before fixing on you, and seems to relax a hair. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

“What. The fuck. Did you do?”

“Uh…funny story…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What? Didn’t you want this horse?”

“Yeah, but…” You pull at your hair, feeling a migraine coming on already. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

You turn in the dew-wet grass to go check on Ziggy. You hear Tex exiting the car behind you. “Don’t be mad, baby.”

“I’m not mad,” you answer sadly, running your fingers through the little horse’s coarse blond mane. “I’m scared.”

Ziggy nibbles at your fingers with his meaty lips, wanting the treats he associates you with. He was going to need a whole lot more than molasses cookies though. You could already tell how your day was going to go.

“Don’t be scared either, darlin’,” Tex says behind you.

“Easy for you to say. You realize this is the first place Dale is gonna come look? And he’ll probably bring Donnie too.”

Nevermind the restraining order you have. It won’t stop him. He’s friends with half the sheriff’s deputies anyway. The Barksdales are damn near untouchable. You learned that the oh so hard way.

“Honey, I’m not going to let them hurt you.” 

For the sake of the horse you keep your temper in check, moderating your voice when all you want to do is yell. “What are you going to do? Watch over me every minute of the day?” He lifts his brows like he likes that idea–you do too, which is batshit insane, because you don’t actually know a goddamn thing about this man.

“Hold on. How did you even know where I live?”

He shrugs. “Not hard to find out, if you know where to look.”

“Well that’s not creepy at all.”

You guess all he’d have to do is ask at the gas station–your family’s been here long enough that it’s basically common knowledge.

You stand there in your faded floral muumuu and your bare feet, toe to toe with this tall dark man and if you had any sense you would be afraid…but you’re not. You’re not because you just don’t think he’ll hurt you. You feel it in your bones and you haven’t had that certainty about any man in so long you can’t remember, and it’s driving you a little wild inside.

“I need my boots,” you sigh, and brush past him to go back to the house.

***

You put Ziggy in the farthest back stall of your barn, where he’ll be out of sight should anyone come looking. With a flake of hay and some grains in his bucket, he seems perfectly content, the sweet sound of him munching filling the old oak building. You lean on a rough sawn post and watch him with a storm in your heart, wondering how long its been since he’d been able to eat his fill.

There will be a price to pay for this little horse’s well being, and you decide whatever it is will be worth it, even if you are afraid. Tex’s presence might deter vengeance for a little while, but he won’t be here forever. You know he won’t, no matter how nice it is to think it, so you’d better be ready.

You were going to have to think on this.

But first, you were going to have to call the ferrier. Luckily you had a friend who wouldn’t rat you out to the Barksdales. Angela was tough as nails and didn’t kowtow to their bullshit. 

It occurs to you that maybe the best thing for Ziggy, and the best thing for you, might be to get this horse far away from here. You wouldn’t put it past Dale or Donnie or one of his other heartless relatives to sneak into your barn in the dead of night and do something awful. There wouldn’t be a whole lot you could do about it either.

You’ve had this horse for about 5 seconds, and the thought of giving him up already breaks your heart.

Tex has been standing silently beside you. You feel his eyes on you, but in what you suspect is a rare occurrence, he’s not running his mouth, giving you space to think. But when you give a heavy sigh he finally breaks. “Come on, darlin’, I thought this would make you happy. It kills me to see you sad.” He opens his arms to you, but you eye them warily. It’s too tempting by far. The way this man is dangerous to you, is that you could get too used to his company too quick.

“You want breakfast?” you deflect.

He nods, those dark eyes taking the measure of you, looking through you, you’re afraid, right into your soul. “Sure.” But he doesn’t move, still just looking at you. 

“What?” you grouse.

Your annoyance only makes him grin.

“Did I mention you’re the cutest little thing in a muumuu and muck boots this side of the Mississippi?”

You roll your eyes, not believing him for a minute. Your hair is still in its bird’s nest of a sleeping braid and you haven’t had your coffee yet. With hands on your hips you look him over too. He’s still wearing the same shirt as last night, and his eyes are a little bloodshot.

“Did you tie one on last night and steal that horse?”

He scrubs at the back of his neck, looking all the while like a guilty schoolboy. “Well…about that…”

This is the thing that finally breaks through your black mood, lifting your sorrow like a blanket. The thought of this man committing grand theft pony–dare you think it, for you–brings a small smile to your lips, and a whole lot of sunshine to your heart.

“Tell me in the house. I’m hungry.” When he doesn’t immediately budge you turn him by the shoulders and give him a shove. Without really thinking about it, you smack his ass for good measure. That tight little behind is round, and firm, and you bite your lip without meaning to, wishing it was something else.

He makes a show of jumping with surprise, smirking at you knowingly over his shoulder. “Watch it, baby girl, or I’mma get myself a handful next,” he warns you with a wicked glint in his eye that makes your insides churn. 

You don’t know what insane notion possesses you, when you stick out your tongue at him– and run. 

You're smarter than this. You know you don't run from a predator. You face them down and smack them on the nose. 

His laughter from right behind you makes an electric thrill zip from your heart to your toes. Dear Lord. No man should be this much fun. 

He really is like a drug, and you don’t know what you were thinking running from him, because you are not fast, and you are clumsy, but somehow it’s him behind you who lets out a surprised yell.

You turn to find Tex with his foot in a hole up to his calf. “Oh my god. Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He extricates himself, and you both peer down into a tunnel running under the aisle of your dirt floor barn. You look at the direction, and follow it to an unoccupied stall. Throwing open the door, you find mounds and mounds of freshly disturbed earth.

“Motherfucker. That groundhog is back.”

Tex looks at the impressive damage with eyebrows raised high. “Goddam. You sure it ain’t a bear? Or a rogue bulldozer?”

“Yes. I can’t deal with this now. Come on.” You take his hand, pulling him towards the house, and he happily follows.

You pause at the front door. “Umm…it’s going to be chaos for a minute. Fair warning.” Then you lead him into the fray.

Chichi is a tiny black and tan tornado at your feet, yipping and screaming. You shake a treat can and hand one to Tex. “Give this to him if you want to live.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tex complies, crouching down to the little dog’s level to offer the morsel. Chichi gobbles it and quiets down, switching to sniffing and licking as Tex scratches his side. His hand is almost as big as your dog, and it touches your heart, how sweet he is to the little creature. Satisfied, Chichi runs back to you for a snuggle.

“We good now?” you ask the little chihuahua. He licks you fervently, and you laugh, setting him back down on the floor. Your bulldog reacts in the exact opposite manner, not even getting out of her bed, only deigning to open one eye to regard your visitor. Your conure has joined in the cacophony, and will not quiet until you give him a piece of apple.

“I hope you like fresh eggs and bacon, it’s all I got.”

“Alright.” He seems amused by you, and the happy mayhem of your home, looking around with a sparkle in his eye. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.” You point him in the right direction and go to the kitchen, lighting a burner under your cast iron skillet. You busy yourself with frying bacon and cracking eggs and filling the kettle for coffee. You are so concentrated on your task that it takes you a moment to notice Tex leaning on the door jam–sans shirt.

You blink, and nearly put your hand in the hot pan. “You forget something?” you ask, trying like hell not to stare at the broad expanse of muscled torso before you. Jesus fucking christ, that’s not fair.

“My clean shirts are back at the motel,” he defends. 

His hair is slightly damp from washing up, looking unfairly edible.

He sidles closer, and you notice the top button of his jeans is undone. A long scar runs down the center of his abdomen, leading your eye to a dark patch of hair that disappears into his waistband. 

Evil. This man is pure evil–and you want to taste every inch of him.

“My eyes are up here, darlin’,” he says with a smirk. 

“You are a menace,” you grouse, holding up a spatula in defense as he just keeps getting closer. He smirks, looking down at the implement.

“You gonna spank me, sweetheart?”

“I would, but I’m afraid you’d like it.”

You are warm all over, and it has nothing to do with slaving over a hot stove.

“Can I help?”

Like he hasn’t helped enough.

“Sure. Pour that hot water into that carafe.”

He looks between the french press, the kettle, and you. “Ever heard of a Mr. Coffee?”

“We don’t tolerate weak coffee in this house.”

He grins at you, doing as he’s told. He even knows to stir it with a wooden spoon, which makes you think he was just pulling your leg.

While you are flipping bacon you feel him zero in behind you, the line of warmth from his body like a heat lamp at your back. “Smells wonderful,” he says, daring to touch your waist.

“It’s meat candy, what do you expect?” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the bacon, or him. 

“Hmm.” His chuckle is a low rumble behind you. You feel it reverberate in your bones. The tips of his fingers press into your sides as he grips fistfuls of your nightgown–and you–as he nuzzles your hair. The sound you make as you wiggle in his arms is almost cartoonish. He takes no mercy, laughing and holding you closer. The warm, solid line of his body behind you is divine, so wonderful you can hardly stand it.

“You are going to make me burn the bacon!” you screech in an attempt at self-defense.

“That’s alright, I’ll just eat you for breakfast,” he tells you in that low growl that makes your knees weak, ducking to nibble at your ear. It’s possible you give in for a few seconds, your head rocking back against his shoulder as he holds you. Why does it have to feel like you fit together so well? When his long fingers bunch in your skirt, pulling it up as his other hand reaches for your breast you think you might combust. In a panic you smack his hand with the spatula with a little scream, trying not to giggle. 

“Go sit down!”

With a wicked chuckle he skips out of reach before you can smack him again, collapsing into one of the old wooden kitchen chairs. His smoldering gaze meets yours, and you feel unsettled. 

This man. Lord save you.

Or not. Maybe…you don’t want to be saved.

“I don’t know how you do things in Texas, but here you don’t get to feel a girl up just because you rustled a horse for her.”

He grins, baring his teeth like he means to eat you.

“Sorry, darlin’, blame the muumuu.”

You try to keep a straight face, but in the end you fail utterly. 

“You gonna tell me how all this happened?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“No, but I should.”

“Hmm. Well, after the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met abandoned me at the fair–”

“Oh save it, Mr. L.A. stuntman.”

He grins but goes on, “I had to do something to nurse my broken heart. So I went to the aforementioned TJ’s by the creek…”

“Ok, this is starting to make sense.”

You start setting dishes of food and plates on the table. Eggs, bacon, toast, butter and jam, and of course, coffee. “And I only had one drink, because I’m a cautious sort of fellow…”

“Yes, that has been made glaringly apparent in the short time I've known you.”

He nods in agreement with a fey glint in his eye all the while. “And who walks in, but our friend Dale…”

“Oh god. You didn’t pick a fight with him, did you?”

“I did not. I went out to the parking lot, to find his horse trailer still full of petting zoo employees conveniently two cars away from mine.”

You cover your mouth, so he can’t see the absolutely feral grin forming on your lips. “You didn’t.”

“I so did. Let the goats out to disperse in the woods there, and wouldn’t you know Ziggy fit right in my passenger seat?”

You are picturing this big tough man in his muscle car peeling out down the road with that cute little horse as a co-pilot. That must be the point when you officially lose your sanity, because you crawl into his lap, planting a big kiss right on his mouth. He lets out a low moan of appreciation, cupping your rear end in his two big hands.

“Tex?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“You’re a goddamned hero.”

“I know! I’ve been trying to tell you,” he says with a grin, stealing another kiss.

You try to extricate yourself to go sit in the opposite chair, but he will not let you. You eat breakfast together, sitting in his lap, his big warm hand on your thigh while you giggle and feed each other morsels and talk, and you can’t help but feel like things might turn out afterall.

***

Tex is helping you do the dishes, or maybe distracting you from doing the dishes, because he keeps plying you with toe curling kisses, when the two of you watch a battered red Chevy pickup pull down your driveway.

“Shit,” you say, recognizing it immediately.

“Here we go. Later than I expected.”

You look up at him open mouthed, an involuntary fear response coursing through your veins, turning your limbs ice cold. “You expected?”

“It’s alright, darlin’. Stay inside.” He kisses your forehead, cradling your cheek with a sweet assurance that you want to believe in, more than anything. It would be too good to be true, to have a man who could really protect you. Someone you could just…depend on. You want it with every fiber of your being, and rather than get your shotgun and run out to the porch on bare feet, you stand there in the kitchen and watch Tex go out the door, pulling a white t-shirt down over a blocky black object tucked into the back of his jeans.

Oh Lord. 

Predictably, Dale is driving, and your blood turns to ice as your piece-of-shit ex spills out of the passenger seat. And even though you know the very Devil is standing there in your driveway, your first thought, as ever when seeing Donnie Barksdale, is damn he looks good. 

There really is something wrong with you. 

He’s wearing a flannel with the sleeves cut off and his usual trucker hat advertising some manner of farm implement (as if he’s ever worked that hard). As always, the sight of Donnie feels like a sharp knife shoved up between your ribs. No matter what he did to you, a part of you will always love that man, or at least, the boy he was when he was your friend, your first love, before he became so hell bent on destroying you. To this day, you do not understand what you ever did to that man, to make him turn on you so violently. You offered him all the love in your heart, and in turn he made you feel worthless. For a time, you actually believed it was true. Now you know better, but it’s been a long, hard road.

“Who the hell are you?” barks Donnie up at the self-assured man standing sentry on your front porch. 

“That’s not what you should be worryin’ about right now,” answers Tex, leaning on the post. 

“That a fact?” 

“Yep. The thing you should be worryin’ about is that you’re trespassin’.” 

Dale exits his truck, leaning on the dented hood. “That’s the fucker that hit me last night, Donnie.” 

Donnie nods, sizing Tex up. The thing about Donnie is…he doesn’t like to get into a fight he doesn’t know he’s going to win. And Tex is a helluva wildcard. It’s possible your no-good wife-beatin’ ex finally met his match. 

“He’s leaving out the bit about askin’ for it. Is beatin’ on y/n y/l/n just a universal pastime in this county for you boys when you run outta pigs to fuck, or what?” drawls Tex, picking at his fingernails. 

Donnie bristles at this, taking a step forward. “Motherfucker–” 

“That’s as far as you go, son,” warns Tex, producing the object from the back of his jeans. You knew it was a gun. You did not know it was that big of a gun. Donnie is wearing his usual inscrutable aviators, but Dale’s eyes go wide. 

“We’re just here to get my stolen horse, mister,” says Dale, holding his hands up. 

“Aww, you boys missin’ your lil’ pony? Better check the lost and found then. It ain’t here.” 

“We’ll have a look for ourselves,” spits Donnie, stepping towards the barn. 

Boom!

The report of the pistol is deafening, and the bullet sends up an explosion of gravel right in front of Donnie’s feet. The dogs and the bird go crazy, starting up and barking and screeching. Donnie jumps backwards three feet, his glasses falling off into the dirt. The expression of fear on his face is as rare as it is priceless. 

“You crazy asshole!”

You scoop up Chichi, trying to comfort him. The little dog trembles like a leaf in your arms. You murmur nonsense to it, but your eyes are glued to the confrontation outside, adrenaline rolling through your veins like flash flood water. You realize you’re shaking almost as badly as the dog. 

“Guilty. Ever seen a Desert Eagle? Shoots a big fuckin’ bullet. A .50 caliber round will explode your kneecap like an apple.” Tex whistles with appreciation, and you’re pretty sure Donnie goes pale. “Wanna test my aim today? I might miss and hit you in the balls.” 

You shouldn’t be enjoying this the way you are, but God did that man have it coming. 

 “We should call the Sheriff on you!” 

“Please do. This is a ‘stand your ground’ state. We can tell him about how you’re trespassing, and I’m pretty sure you ain’t supposed to be within 300 yards of that pretty little thing watchin’ us from the kitchen.” 

Donnie’s attention zeroes in on the window, and you sense it like a laser sight fixed upon you. You hate it, how just that hateful look makes you flinch. 

“Y/n!” Donnie calls. “Come out here!” 

“She don’t need to come out here,” says Tex. “She ain’t gonna save you.” 

Donnie seems actually surprised, when you do not obey him, staying put in your spot in the kitchen. 

When the two men just stand there in the driveway, frozen and speechless, Tex cocks the pistol for show. “You need another demonstration? Git!”

“This ain’t over, fucker!” spits Donnie, pointing menacingly–from a safe distance. 

“You better hope it is. Don’t come back, and if either one of you ever touches her again I’ll kill you. That’s a promise. Now get the fuck out of here!” 

Spoiling for a fight but clearly outgunned, the two men back towards the truck, slowly climbing in. “There you go. See ya, bronies!” 

Tex waves the pistol in their direction, and you hear Donnie yell at Dale, “Fuck! Drive! Drive!”

Dale peels out, leaving ruts in your gravel and a dust cloud as they go.

Tex stays on the porch watching until their truck is good and gone. When he finally makes it back into the house you are a teary-eyed little mess. When he sees you the flint in his eyes immediately softens. “Aw, don’t cry honey, c’mere.” You do, and with your head resting on the solid warm wall that is this man’s chest you start to lose it. 

“You actually did it.” 

“Course I did. I told you I would,” he says, stroking your hair as he holds you.

“But…you actually did it,” you say again, because you still cannot believe what just happened. No man has managed to stand up to Donnie Barksdale since your Grandpa, at 80 years old, who stood between you and Donnie in the very same spot on the porch, with the same 12 gauge you still keep behind the hutch, and threatened to cut your then-husband in half if he took another step closer. 

It was the last night Donnie beat on you, and broke your orbital bone, two of your teeth, and your arm. You’d escaped into the dark woods that night, and even though you are not stealthy or fast you managed by some miracle to make it through the brush and thorns and barbed wire fences the two miles to your grandparents’ farm house. It was the last straw, and you finally set the wheel in motion to divorce him the next day. 

You are not a pretty crier, but Tex lets you soak his shirt with tears and snot, holding you and murmuring sweet nonsense. “That’s right, honey, get it out. It’s ok.”

For once, it doesn’t sound like an empty placation. Donnie seemed genuinely scared of Tex, and Dale is an even bigger coward than Donnie. Maybe…they really will just leave you alone. 

Stranger things have happened. 

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze, trying to pull away to get a tissue. “I’m a mess.” 

But Tex pulls you back, not seeming to care one bit, and when his lips touch yours it really does seem like everything in the world has turned right. 

Amusingly, Chichi has been sandwiched between all this in your arms, and only just begins to put up a grumble of protest. “Oh hush, lil buddy,” says Tex, not unkindly, scratching the little dog under the chin. He does nearly the same thing to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “You alright?”

You nod and offer a watery smile, setting the dog down on the ground. It’s not what Chichi wants, but he’ll live. “Yes. Thank you.” 

If Donnie believed what Tex said…you do too. There is something dangerous about this man. A wildness that makes his threat feel like a promise. You guess that when the law fails you, what you truly need is an outlaw who keeps his word. Yet you truly believe he’s not a danger to you. You feel safe with him, and maybe that’s the biggest miracle of all. 

“As silly as this sounds after the morning we’ve had…I really do have to go to work.” 

“Alright. I’ll drive you.” A part of you wants to say it’s not necessary. But the other half of you? Just wants to bask in this new found feeling of security while it lasts. You can’t expect Tex to stick around forever to babysit you. But for right now…god, it feels good, to not have to carry this weight all on your own shoulders. 

You kiss him again, and it is warm, and sweet as sugar cookies fresh from the oven. You melt into him, and with his strong arms around your waist, then lower, it is very hard to get up the motivation to go clean up and put on your uniform. 

“Honey, you keep kissin’ me like that and we’re not goin’ anywhere.” 

It’s embarrassing, but you know the sound you make in answer is something like a cat in heat, your fingers curling in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You feel his words inside you–in the rhythm of your heart, and the throb of your loins. It’s damn near unbearable, this sudden restlessness you feel inside.

You don’t have anyone else to depend on, so you always have to do the responsible thing. Go to work. Get the money. Pay the bills. No one escapes the bullshit death march of Capitalism, except the fuckers who are running the game.

And yet. Maybe…just this once…you could call in sick. 

You stand on tiptoe to kiss him again, grabbing fistfuls of the fluffy waves of his now dried hair. “Tex?” 

“Yeah, baby.” His voice is pure honey dripping golden in the sun. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” His big hands flex against the soft curves of your hips, grabbing fistfuls of nightgown like he’s thinking about tearing it off of you. Incredibly, he says nothing glib, just nods. But when he looks down at you for a long, heated moment–you think he could burn down the world, with the fire in that dark gaze. 

“Lead the way, darlin’.” 

You take his big, beautiful hands in yours, and pull him towards the stairs.

[starless-nightz]

I have wisdom to share regarding Lion wife au (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I imagine Lioness! reader having a human caretaker that basically taught her the ways of being human, like, telling her the rights and wrongs and basic common knowledge that all humans have.

I like the idea of Lioness! reader being an abandoned cub and getting picked up by a random human then one day, the human caretaker comes home and sees a literal child with the same features of the “cat” they adopted just two days ago (cat distribution system needs some tweaking)

“So, you’re actually a lion that can transform to a human? “

“Mhm.”

“Oh.”

“Well, I’m still gonna care of you.”

The human caretaker takes care of ‘lil Lioness! reader ‘till she grew up. The human caretaker didn’t expect her “car” to suddenly become so muscular and tall at just a span of 5 years. It was around that time when Lioness! reader decided to leave to train herself, like, probably leaving to Sumeru since that’s basically the equivalent of a rainforest in Teyvat. Then few years later she comes back to Fontaine, becomes a duelist, then meets Arlecchino.

I can imagine Arlecchino not knowing about this ‘til one day she was just having a stroll with Lioness! reader when Lioness!reader spots her human caretaker. After a long time of not seeing them, Lioness! reader had nearly forgotten how attached she is to them.

Arlecchino sees her wife suddenly leave her side and sneak up to a person that Arlecchino is not familiar with. Lioness! reader startles the unfamiliar person, picked them person up in her arms, hugging the person, nuzzling to them, her tail flicking back and forth signifying a playful mood- just being more expressive than she usually is. As far as Arlecchino knows, Lioness! reader haven’t been that affectionate to her in a extent that she’ll do such things in public.

Yeah, this is just a scenario where Arlecchino gets jealous over Lioness! reader’s technically “parent”.

OKAY I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS??? LIKE THIS IDEA IS SO SILLY????

I can imagine cub! reader was abandond by her mother and pride cause she had the least chance of survival, so when her human caretaker found her, thinking she was just a kitty, they took her her.

Lioness! reader first transforms into her more human form in her caretakers home while they were away, i can imagine the caretaker cant have children so they gladly kept lioness! reader.

When lioness! readet was a teenager, she was able to speak human language perfectly, but she knew she had to train herself, so she left home to Sumeru where she might find other lion-hybrids like her.

Lioness! reader came back to Fontaine many years later, being a dualist until she met Arlecchino, retiring and instead training and taking care of the children from the House of the Hearth after she married.

Lioness! reader tried to find her caretaker but they moved, so there was no way to find them, until one day she smelled their scent while on a walk with her wife.

She left Arlecchino to make sure it was really her caretaker, the moment she saw her caretaker she knew it was her.

She sneaked up behind them, picking them up while saying boo. The caretaker was so happybto see her baby, now a full grown lioness who is so much bigger then her.

Lioness! reader immediately introduced her caretaker to her wife, her caretaker was a bit intimidating by Arlecchino, but they were happy that their little cub finally found someone she loved.

Arlecchino felt a bit ackward because she was jealous of her wifes caretaker, but shes never gonna admit that she was jealous.

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Nine

I'm finally back with Chapter Nine of this story, which honestly might be a lil angsty and sad once again, because y/n has to pack up her entire life back home so she can head back to her boys.

Also sidenote after writing this, I'm not sure I love this chapter, but I also wanted to get something out after not writing for this series for a while, so I may come back and rewrite this later on.

masterlist Pairing: OT8 Stray Kids x reader wc: 1.2k AU: Soulmates Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: none! (I think) Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Y/n had met her new bodyguards at the airport, as they had come to pick her up, her family having been too busy to do so. She directed them back to her home, taking a deep breath as she walked up to the front door, typing in the passcode and breathing a sigh of relief when the door unlocked. It seemed no one was home at that moment. She beckoned the two men to enter behind her, and to her surprise, neither of the family dogs started barking. The dogs only stared at her, tails wagging and happiness visible in the way they looked at her as she moved closer, coming up to say hello to them.

“Hi my loves, how are you both? I’ve missed you so so much!” Was all she was able to get out before she was smothered by the two dogs, almost being pinned to the floor in their excitement to see her.

At this time, one of the men received a call, quickly pulling out his phone and answering it.

“Hello sir. Yes we’ve arrived, and we’re currently at her house. You want to speak to her? Hold on, I’ll get her.” He responded to whomever was on the phone, before looking over at y/n. “Miss, Mr. Bang wants to speak with you.” He told her, motioning to his phone. 

Y/n took the phone from the man, holding it up to her ear and hearing the voice of her oldest soulmate.

“You’ve arrived safely?” He asked her immediately.

“I’m safe, Chris. I’m at my house, being smothered by my dogs.” She replied.

“Okay good.” She could hear him let out a relieved breath at her response. 

“Chris, why did you get so concerned?” She asked him.

“I always get worried whenever one of my loves is away, where I can’t protect you.” He told her as if it was common knowledge.

Her heart warmed at hearing how much Chris already cared for her, that he considered her one of his loves.

“Okay now that I know you’re okay and I’ve heard your voice, you should go ahead and get settled in so you’re able to start packing things. You can hand the phone back over now, okay babygirl?” He told her, though she was reluctant to let him go, wanting to talk with him further.

She handed the phone back over to the guard who had given it to her, before she headed down to her own room, bringing her bags with her. She dropped them quickly as she entered her room to see her bunny looking up at her, having heard all of the noise upstairs.

“Hi baby! Oh how I’ve missed you!” She called out to him, as she sped over to his cage, picking him up carefully, acting as if she hadn’t seen him in months, when in reality it had been maybe a week since she last saw him. Though really, the days were hard to keep track of sometimes, so who knows exactly how many days it had been.

The smile on her face was so large, it almost made her face hurt, but she couldn’t contain her smile and Jack greeted her, leaving tiny kisses on her nose and rubbing his chin wherever he could, making sure y/n knew her bunny loved her just as much as she loved him back. The two had a special bond, one that every animal and their owner had, and with Jack being around for so much of y/n’s life, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

She was so occupied with greeting and holding Jack that she hadn’t realized her two guards had made their way into her room as well.

She jumped a bit upon turning around and seeing them there. She however kept a tight hold on her bunny, not letting go of him despite her being frightened. 

“Sorry ma’am, we didn’t mean to frighten you.” They both said in unison.

“Don’t worry about it, I get scared easily.” She reassured them.

“We’ve ordered boxes for you to pack your items, and Stray Kids has a shipping company that will ship them back to Seoul.” She was informed, and put Jack back down into his cage before facing them.

“Okay. Thank you for doing that and letting me know. I’ll start making lists of everything that needs to be packed, so that this is all much easier to tackle.” She said, both to them and herself.

Y/n sat down on her bed, having grabbed a journal on the way over, and started writing down everything she would need to bring back with her, organizing it by categories. The lists were longer than she expected they would be, but she did have quite a few things, plus anything of Jack’s that had to be packed as well.

“When will the boxes be delivered?” She asked, looking up at the men.

“It should be tomorrow morning.” One of them answered.

“Okay. Since I’ve already figured out the logistics of visas and taking my bunny with me, the next step is to talk with my school about finishing my degree online. So, we’re heading to my school.” She informed them.

She put down her notebook and got off the bed, thanking everything that she had arrived in the early morning and that it was a weekday, so she could go to campus today and get it sorted. She quickly moved throughout the rest of the house, making sure she had everything she needed, plus checking that her dogs couldn’t get into too much trouble while she was gone.

“I’m ready to go.” She told the men, who nodded and followed her out of the house before they led her to the car once again. It thankfully was a quick ride to her university, where things were not as easy. She waited in the dean’s office while they checked her credit hours and to see exactly what else she needed for her degree, and if all of it could be done virtually. She was hoping this would be quick, but when were bureaucratic or academic matters quick?

It took a couple hours of emailing and calling professors and creating a plan for her to finish her final year abroad, but almost five hours later, she was walking out of the building with an email detailing the plan for her final year of university, and the knowledge that it was all sorted out. She was more than tired after that entire process, and y/n was more than ready to head back home and sleep the rest of the day away.

“Take me home please.” She asked her driver/bodyguard once she was in the car. Once she was safely buckled in, it was once again a quick ride back home. Once she arrived back home, she found that the house was no longer empty, as he parent’s car sat in the driveway.

‘Well, here goes nothing,’ she thought, as she entered the front door, dreading what her parents would say.

Taglist: @queen-thiccness @k-k-kn1v3s @ihrtlix @calisnewworld @lailac13 

@thegingerthatwaited @hyunmikim @pheonixfire777 @sapphirewaves @yukichan67

Taglist: Open!

[writingwithfolklore]

5 Writing Rules I Like to Break

                Listen, I am firmly of the belief that writing doesn’t have rules. There’s no one way to do it—no one schedule or technique or tip that’s going to work for everyone and produce perfect narratives. Which is a good thing! I think if we all had to write exactly the same way, our stories would end up looking very similar.

                So while in general I tend to say throw out any and all rules (and yes, even including the advice I give on this blog if you so desire), here’s 5 common writing rules I specifically and intentionally break, and why:

1. Write what you know

I already talked all about how I tend to ignore this advice here if you’re interested. The TLDR version of it is that you can absolutely write things beyond your scope of knowledge (in fact, I’d guess that’s where the majority of fiction comes from) as long as you write it genuinely—this rule should be instead ‘write what you feel’.

2. Don’t edit as you write

Booo!! Okay maybe it works for some of you—if so, by all means continue (this applies to all the rules I’m about to mention, so just keep that in mind). Editing as I go is how I get back into the swing of things in a new writing session, and also allows me to try a scene a few different times to get the most I can out of it. I tend to believe that words are words even if they’re edited, rewritten, or even deleted.

If your goal is to finish your project as fast as possible, I imagine going back to edit before you’re finished your draft might slow you down. However, I also imagine editing as you go might save you an entire draft. Whatever works for you here is what you should do, but I personally love to edit as I write.

3. Avoid ‘said’

At least I think a lot of you guys are with me when I say that ‘said’ is sometimes just the best word to use. Using lots of descriptive words like, ‘yelled’, ‘begged’, ‘exclaimed’ can be distracting. When the dialogue speaks for itself, the ‘said’ disappears into the background of the scene, while necessary for grammar, it’s a formality for the actual storytelling. As well, I like to experiment with said by adding a descriptor afterwards. ‘Said quietly’ ‘said through a laugh’ ‘said without taking a breath’ etc.

4. Avoid adverbs

Here’s what I’ll say about word usage in general, as long as you pick your words with thought and care, you may use whatever words you want. Words have different specific connotations, and not always will avoiding the adverb have the same impact. For example, changing “he laughed lightly” to “he giggled.” We may have removed the adverb ‘lightly’, but ‘giggled’ holds a completely different connotation. It evokes a sort of immaturity, not unlike the ‘schoolgirl’ stereotype. If we don’t want that connotation, in this case, laughed lightly may be better.

                So don’t count out adverbs for the sake of it. As long as you’re choosing your words with intention and you understand the meaning behind them, you can experiment with a world of adverbs!

5. Never use passive voice

This one I didn’t realize was important to break until quite recently. We tend to be taught that passive voice automatically equals bad and I’m here to tell you that isn’t true. Passive voice should equal focus on action. Active voice equals focus on character. There may be certain sentences in which focusing on either the character or the action is more beneficial.

For example, “the alarm was pulled by Alice” (passive) kind of sounds clunky and wrong, whereas “Alice pulled the alarm” (active) is much more effective.

BUT “Alice was dragged out of the way” (passive) focuses on the action of Alice being dragged, rather than “Something dragged Alice out of the way” (active) focuses on the something that is doing the dragging, which in a moment of action, may take away from the pacing.

As long as you choose your voice with intention, both passive and active voice can be used to create strong, effective sentences.

                What are some typical writing rules you tend to ignore?

[hauntedbarbiex]

To all my Reality Shifters out there who’s Current Reality means as much to them as their Desired Reality does; this post is for you💗💋: 

I don’t know if anyone has told you this but you have permission to have both. Both this reality, AND your DR’s. I know a lot of people in this community talk about respawning or perma shifting and if that’s you, that’s amazing! But for some of us, our reality here feels just as important. Maybe for you it’s your loved ones, or your friends, maybe even your job, that you don’t want to completely leave behind or script with you into your desired realities. And that’s completely okay❤️ I know I have personally felt scared of shifting for a while, because a part of me felt like I was betraying my loved ones here. As if I was shifting because they weren’t good enough, which felt awful because that was never the case. I am so grateful for my life here, but I also want to experience my life there. And that is completely valid. It’s like travelling abroad or going on holiday. Just because you leave or want to explore new exciting places, doesn’t mean that your home isn’t good enough. You’re human! You want to explore, and experience new things and that is very very normal. Just because you’re doing it in an uncommon way, doesn’t make it any different. And you can always come back home. Even whilst you make multiple homes for yourself across the multiverse, this one is always here for you too, should you wish it🥰

Of course feeling bad for wanting to leave this reality can never, and will never, actually stop you from shifting (blockages aren’t real and doubts are normal and nothing to be scared of :) ) but it might be a reason why you procrastinate doing a method or reading your script. Not that you need to do those things to shift but you know what I mean! For me, I felt so bad that I didn’t even want to watch the very shows I wanted to experience anymore. I felt torn between both families (my family here and my family in my dr). As if even entertaining the thought of hanging out with my dr friends and family would be betraying the amazing ones I have here. But I’m here to tell you that you are allowed to have both. You’re allowed to have everything you want. Do you stop making a new friend in this reality because you feel bad for the one you already have? I hope not! You make as many good friends as you can! Everyone is different and so each relationship is different, and that’s what makes it so beautiful! That’s what makes life so exciting!

Maybe this is common knowledge to a lot of you but I wanted to write a post about it in case there were any others feeling the same as me. I wish someone had given me permission to have both. To love both. I wish I had gave myself that permission sooner, but I’m giving it to myself now. And I hope you allow yourself permission too. Go out there and spread love to as many of your loved ones across the multiverse as you can xx

[botanical-garden-system]

Not sure if people will take this the right way, but just because you have a disorder doesn’t make you an expert on it/make you capable of telling people what is or isn’t something related to that disorder.

I’m ranting about this because I saw someone who said they were diagnosed with autism and ADHD later in life say, “Your partner’s undiagnosed ADHD might be the hidden reason behind their cheating.” While what I’m ranting about is not exactly 100% related and does NOT cover all the issues with their statement, it’s still something I thought of after watching because of how common it is.

Yes, you have knowledge of your OWN experience, but that does not mean you are knowledgeable on the various presentations in a disorder. It becomes even more complex when you start to equate multiple diagnoses and symptom patterns together.

You cannot just make blanket statements of what IS or ISN’T, that is not how psychology works at all. The most we can do is say that there is a common TREND in the disorder. This is why I try to use statements like “While ___ is possible, ___ is a common cause/symptom” or something like that.

A lot of people will rehash the same arguments without providing resources or context behind what they’re saying, and it’s very frustrating. It also does not help knowing research papers are very hard to break down for the general public. It’s easier just to grab onto a statement without understanding any other context.

Just stop trying to use blanket statements with a SOCIAL SCIENCE.

[celestie0]

so your insecure about your smut I hear ? if it makes you feel better I still mentally jerk it in memory of the following:

kickoff chapter 6 particularly when reader’s collapsed over the sink and gojos still on his knees behind her just WATCHING and then when their eye fucking eachother in the mirror and readers hand is reached behind to grab the back of his head THATS SO SEXY

the tension in chapter 8 i know there was only a proposition of smut but when it was stripped away I think that’s when I fell in love with the series because the slow burn is just everything - disclaimer I don’t jork it to that I just like the scene

The duration of kickoff chapter 11 couch scene 👌. My stomach does the thing every time, dry humping is elite, and the high school in love-ness between them 😭I’m throwing up

THE IHM SNEAK PEAKS

I refuse to believe you think those are bad as well like tf???? And not just the lazy morning sex that had me bust a load but the death row meal comment??????? Making out while doing calculus in his head so not to get a boner???? And for someone who’s not a fan of dirty talk like babe come on, the way you capture all the different sexy aspects of that sexy man like the vulgarity had me HOT and then his dumbass down bad-ness just UGh the need to put a baby in him right now

anyway that deserved its own paragraph but then obviously there’s works with smut as the actual premise

L&L specifically the bj scene I think you awakened my praise kink with that one - btw will we ever get a part 2 because I’m pretty sure that plan fell through but just letting you know I’m all up for seconds, no pressure if it’s not a part of ur agenda though

Round the clock.

actually hold up let me elaborate on these above two points in my full opinion because I really want you to understand this, the tropes/pairings/dynamics which your brain births are so fucking hot that the smut scene is instantly made good even if it’s not your most proud part of the writing process, this links to the common knowledge which ihm reader preached in the recent chapter- men will get hard to anything - but unfortunately it’s not so easy as a woman, personally that’s why I tend to resort to reading cause there’s nothing more psychologically immersing and of course the point of fanfiction is we’re already in love with our husband gojo so just add a little sexy lore ie. older, boxer, babysitter and babe I’m already halfway there cause of the quality of your ideas and writing, smut is only part of the experience and it’s not necessarily the most important

Last but not least that one domestic drabble you wrote I know it’s kind of a pwp moment but the position wifey reader and toji did it in omg and when he called her a slut and when he had her cockdrunk and babbling and begging for a baby 😫✋

honorable mention because like I said smut isn’t everything: the scene where ihm Gojo is shirtless fixing the kitchen sink and drinking oj from a mug and then when he picked up reader while she’s in a measly silk gown … yeah I jork it to that😔

in conclusion ur smut makes me horny🙂 so I think your sufficiently successful in achieving its primary purpose, please don’t be so hard on yourself and I hope you can learn to find more self satisfaction in these parts of your work where you lack confidence and see it in a better light

<333

ok hi anon im back! lol

first of all thank u sm. some people might think a fanfic author would desire a good dicking down from their favorite fictional character and a blunt shortly thereafter. but no. THIS is all a fanfic author truly wants.

HAHAH no but in serious you’re so sweet to point outtt these little details i could sob :”) i was cheesing so hard in the morning when i read it haha!!

i always forget the kickoff ch6 party bathroom scene happened xd sometimes i get thrown into a state of shock when i remember i wrote it. and that’s the thing!! i was so excited n giddy to write it bc it was back when i didnt think too hard about my writing haha. somewhere along the line i just became so self conscious ab smut :( but anywho yes the couch scene in kickoff ch11 had me screaming while i was writing it i was so excited to eventually post it so i’m so happy you enjoyed ittt aaa :”)

STOP bc i have SO much smut planned for ihm 😭😭 ranging from borderline crack smut to passionate lovemaking loool i can’t wait to get to those parts of the series but ouf yea them insecurities be haaaaard. i think i just don’t see a lot of representation of the kind of smut i like to write in the fandom very much so it gets me second guessing 🥲 like idk i like dirty talk but it has to be kinda on the nose?? like the whole part where ihm gojo says the thing ab doing calculus in his head so he doesnt get a hard-on 😂😂 like idk it’s so cute n hot to me in my head but it’s kinda niche to my preferences haha

sorry i’m rambling but like ugh same w the morning sex scene i wanna get to that part sooo bad but i just hope i don’t second guess that scene once i get to it 😩😩 bc oh my the way my coochie was clenching the whole time while writing it LOL i sob

aw yeahh i was supposed to do a pt2 for l&l but hmm i kinda got bored of the concept. it was my first major oneshot smut n like aaa i like it but :0 i think it does stand good alone as just one part

thanks my dear :”) i agree i think…well, i have a hard time giving myself credit for anything usually haha, but i do think that the character dynamics i created outside of i guess the smutty stuff rlly helps? i guess its kinda like a buffer when i get into writing smut bc im like oh yknow even if this isnt the hottest thing my readers have read i hope that they enjoy it bc they like my versions of gojo xd so you’re so sweet for validating me on that HAHAHA

also stooooop i love that scene in ihm. the one where he picks her up effortlessly while she’s on all fours in her grandma nightgown on the floor 🤣🤣 idk if this is so hyperspecifically arousing but like the thought of sporty muscular gojo having just come back from a run n he’s manhandling vintage silk nightgown-wearing reader while she’s has barely awoken from sleep is so cute n silly n hot to me. sorry it sounds like im jerking myself off here but i just love ihm gojo sm honestly i would like to fuck him until his balls look like raisins :/

anywhooo you’re too sweet. like seriously. and i saw your follow up ask, an hour?? imma sob. i’m saving the link for this ask to look back on whenever i feel bad ab my smut writing abilities!! or just writing in general. i fear u may have saved me anon LOL i haven’t felt this excited to write smut in a while! i appreciate you :)) much love!

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Whomping Willow

Words: 963

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

On the outside, Remus looked calm. If anyone was to study him, they might notice an occasional tiny twitch in his left eye or the way the right side of his bottom lip pulled slightly, but his face was passive and his body relaxed as he sat at one end of the sofa in the Gryffindor common room clutching an empty glass.

Inside, every atom of his being was thrashing around like the whomping willow. His heart hammered against his ribs, he was biting the inside of his lower lip hard enough to taste blood and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

On the other side of the room, Sirius was deep in conversation with Benjy Fenwick. Remus had counted the number of times that Sirius had thrown back his head and laughed at something Benjy said (six), and how many times Benjy had touched Sirius on the arm, shoulder, and most egregiously, his hip (nine, in total).

“Why don’t you tell him?” Dorcas perched on the arm of the sofa next to him.

“Self preservation and the knowledge that he deserves better.” Remus said, not taking his eyes off Sirius.

“And it’s just fine for you to keep all that inside forever?.”

“Perhaps.” He admitted. “I swear it used to be easier. It’s fine. Only four months of school left, though. Then I can have some space from it all.”

Dorcas snorted, “If that’s what you think’s going to happen—”

“Why are we glaring at Sirius?” Marlene appeared behind Dorcas. “I approve, I’m just curious.”

“He’s pining. Again.”

“You’d probably be happier if you didn’t insist on watching.” Marlene said. “Seems masochistic.”

“Don’t kink shame him!” Dorcas giggled. “She’s right though. Come and get another drink.”

Remus sighed and stood up, “I hate when you’re right.” Before he headed to where he’d left his fire whisky, he looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see Sirius looking at him, something burning in his gaze. Remus offered him a half smile before following Marlene and Dorcas.

He sensed someone next to him as he grabbed the bottle, and was surprised to see it was Benjy.

“Done staring, Lupin?” He asked in a low voice. Remus turned to him and raised an eyebrow slightly when he saw that Benjy didn’t look angry, but amused. “I didn’t know you’d be interested. I wouldn’t have wasted any time on Black if I—”

“Wait, what?” He said, “Waste your— what?”

Benjy took a step closer to him, “C’mon, Black’s easy. I prefer a challenge.”

“You’ve got the wrong idea.” Remus focused on pouring steadily as Benjy settled his palm on the small of Remus’ back.

Benjy scoffed, “You’re not subtle. If you’re not out, you might want to rein it in.”

“Fuck off.” Remus’ face was still passive but it was considerably more effort to maintain now. Maybe Dorcas was right, and he should just—

“Moony, a word.” Sirius appeared on his other side.

Remus nodded and shook off Benjy’s hand before following him up to the dormitory.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius asked as soon as the door was shut.

“He thought I was staring at him and—”

“You were.” Sirius said flatly. “Look, if you’d told me that you like him, I’d have told him to piss off. I didn’t know, but still, not a fan of you poaching blokes I’m in the middle of a conversation with.”

Remus sat on the edge of Sirius' bed and rested his head in his hands, “Jesus Christ.” He mumbled, “I was absolutely not poaching Benjy, nor am I into him. I was telling him that when you interrupted.”

“Then why were you staring at him?” Sirius asked, trying to keep his voice steady and almost succeeding. “Don’t deny it, I have eyes.”

“I wasn’t staring at Benjy.” Remus looked up and met his gaze, waiting for the penny to drop.

“But you were, you didn’t— Oh.” Sirius stilled. “Moons?”

Remus braced himself as he confirmed, “Yeah.”

“But… you never flirt back or even react when I flirt with you.”

“Oh, is that what you’ve been doing?” Remus felt all of those repressed emotions rushing to the surface. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I never said anything because I was busy helping you through heartache and then helping you make plans of who you should go after next and you know what? My name never came up once, Sirius. You’ve never seen me as legitimate option, and you know that.”

Sirius stared at him, the colour draining from his face. “You never made yourself an option.”

“Because if it’s a choice between me and someone who isn’t a dark fucking creature, then there isn’t a choice at all. I shouldn’t be an option, but it would have been nice just once if you’d—”

“So you could just turn me down with some noble speech about being a werewolf?” Sirius snapped. “We both know that’s what would happen. Why should I put myself through that, when I can just keep pretending that we’re just friends?”

“Maybe I hoped that I’d be worth the risk. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve taken a risk on our friendship.” Remus said quietly. “You’re right though. You shouldn’t have to put yourself through that.”

Sirius’ eyes flashed dangerously, “If you want me, do something about it, Remus. Do something about it, otherwise just fuck off.”

Remus stood up. The urge to just leave the dorm was strong. It was the sensible choice, but instead he found himself in front of Sirius, close enough that he could feel Sirius’ breath ghosting across his lips. “I’m not going to beg you to want me, Sirius.”

“You don’t need to.” He let Remus close the small distance between them.

Notes:

Do you ever write a line that breaks you a little bit?

Bc that's me with 'Maybe I hoped that I’d be worth the risk. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve taken a risk on our friendship.'

Like, yes call him out, but also the prank was almost two years ago, maybe stop bringing it up in arguments, Remus, bc that's not healthy