#we had a rough summer in regards to the house

[thefailguard]

I swear I'll get back to the game this weekend. Just dealing with copious amounts of House Stuff. Also just not vibing with the game yet at 15 hours in. I'm sure I will eventually. I just really don't like the 'personality' they gave the main character, at least not for a DA game.

anyways here's the saddest girl in thedas she's definitely not a Plucky Hero (me ignoring in-game dialogue)

[scentedpepper]

Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Untamable Part 6/8

+18

I am aware that I am running out of chapters 😭. I might have to add two or three in order to complete my vision....

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

You didn't ride shot gun on your way home from the wedding. Rico was more than deserving of the front seat next to Gabriel. Last night, he was forced to babysit Nemo while the two of you were locked in your hotel room upstairs, doing unspeakable things to each other. Unspeakable but also unforgettable.

The way Gabriel eyes kept glancing at you in the rare view mirror told you that last night was still on his mind as well. His devious smile had you melting in your seat, a warmth spreading throughout your body. The best thing was to diverge your attention towards Nemo, whose car seat was facing your way. You pointed out the sightings along the way as the road passed you by. Particularly the birds in the sky. They fascinated Nemo the most. The vivid flapping of their wings made him giggle, resulting in blissful shouts soothing the car ride home.

"We're almost there." Gabriel said, slightly glancing over his shoulder. Rico had been dropped off minutes ago, his house located on the outskirts of Maresias. Although your grandma's house was still a forty-five minute drive away, you and Gabriel both knew that you and Nemo weren't going anywhere.

"Are you hungry? Should I cook something?" Gabriel entered his kitchen and lingered by the stove. He watched you where you stood in his living room, Nemo fast asleep in your arms.

"Maybe we should cook something in case he wakes up hungry." You replied.

"In the middle of the night?"

"Yes, in the middle of the night." You chuckled at the way Gabriel regarded you with a dent between his brow.

"Won't feeding him in the middle of the night make him fat?" He said.

"Not necessarily, at least if he hasn't had anything else to eat for dinner."

"Huh." Gabriel huffed. "My mother used to never let me eat in the middle of the night. Said it would make me fat like my uncle."

"Nor did she let me into your house when we were kids and yet hear I am."

"Well that's different." He smiled.

"Different how?"

"Welp, for starters my mother thought you were crazy."

"I was. At least when I came to you after my parents and brother died. I guess I just thought I would get more sympathy for it."

"Well, you know my mother. Sympathy isn't really her strongest suit."

"Tell me about it."

Gabriel's eyes were bright and glowing, where he watched you from the stove. You were rocking Nemo in your arms, his lips slightly pouted and his face scrunched up in a peacful grimace.

"Go put him to bed and I'll cook us something to eat."

You nodded and went to tuck Nemo into the bed in Gabriel's guest room. Upon your return to the kitchen, you were ambushed by the smell of something lovely.

"What are you making?" You took a seat at the table and watched Gabriel pour you a glass of red wine.

"It's a surprise" He said, handing you the glass.

You rolled your eyes at him but fell back against the chair, watching a man at work. Your man.

The dinner was lovely, with you and Gabriel talking about everything and nothing, sipping red wine well into the night. After his restless attempt to lure you into his bedroom, he eventually gave in to your plead to let you go. "I'll see you tomorrow, won't I?"

"Fine, tomorrow." He sighed but managed to steal a swift kiss, his lips pressing softly against yours. "Goodnight Y/N."

"Goodnight, Gabriel."

You fell asleep dreaming about Gabriel. About sweeping your hands through his dark curls while his head lay buried between your legs. You dreamed about his voice in your ear, low and rough, begging you take him raw, to give him another child. It was a dream from the deepness of your subconscious mind. But that dream was far from over as you woke up to your body being shrugged awake, Gabriel's voice speaking softly in your ear. "Come on, wake up."

"Gabriel?"

The morning sun warmed your face, and as your eyes slowly opened his shirtless silhoutte appeard before you.

"Come on." Gabriel smiled. "Let's go for a surf."

"What?"

He must have taken advantage of your drowsiness. You had no memory of leaving your bed, nor walking with Gabriel towards the water. Nevertheless, there you were, hand in hand, walking up the beach. Gabriel carried your surfboards in on arm, the other one squeezing yours tightly. A swell had come in through the night, leaving the sea with a set off waves waiting to be explored. A couple of surfers were already seen paddling out despite the exceptional time of day. You had left Nemo fast asleep but vowed to return before he even noticed that the two of you were gone.

"Here, you take this one."

"I..."

You eyed the surfboard that Gabriel set in the sand before you. It might have been freed of dust, it's wood polished to perfection, the board as good as new. However, you recognize its distinguished shape from the memories of your past. "My grandads surfboard!" You exclaimed, grabbing the board and laying it flat in the sand. Your hands stroke across the surface, feeling the wood. "Gabriel, how did you—"

"You brought them to me, didn't you?" He stood with his arms crossed, a smug smile on his lips.

"I....I completely forgot." You said, but remember when exactly you had brought the boards over. It was the night Gabriel's sister Sophia and her friend came over. You had stormed off with Nemo that night but truthfully regretet ruining Sophia's movie night.

"I'm...."

"Speatchless and medley impressed my my craftsmanship?"

You looked up, meeting Gabriel's lively eyes. Although you were left guilty for your latest tantrum, it was clear that Gabriel had left it behind him a long time ago.

"Shall we head out?" He said.

"Okay. But w... which one will you take." The surfboard with the pattern of a white lotus used to be your grandmother's, while the surfboard with the painted hill of a volcano used to be your grandfather's. You and your brother had spent hours in the water, learning how to surf those boards. Paulo had gotten so good and you....well you had also picked it up fast.

"I'll take the lotus." Gabriel said and bent down to grab it, tucking the baord under his arm. You did the same with your grandfather's board as the two of you then rushed towards the water.

You were surprised by how much you remembered. How surfing was much like riding a bike. Once you learned it, you simply couldn't unlearn it. You fell into the white wash more than Gabriel, of course. Gabriel, who was simply one with the ocean. Like Poseidon flowing along the rigid tubes of water, never not in control.

Your feet trembled as you returned to the beach. However, your rattling legs had nothing to do with your anxiety. It was simply the rush of adrenaline that had captured you, the fierce sensation flowing through your body and spreading like wildfire.

"You looked good out there." Gabriel said, in an attempt to praise you. It made you blush, his words causing a terrible heat to rise to your cheeks.

"Thanks. I almost forgot what that felt like."

"Well, I'm happy to have reminded you."

You were struck by guilt, your eyes falling to your feet.

"What?" Gabriel chuckled as he caught you mid flush. But as you refused to meet his eyes, he stepped towards you, his hand under your chin raising your head. "What's wrong, baby?"

His brown eyes regarded you with a soft depth, as if whatever had caused your suffering, he was willing to put an end to.

"You should teach him." You mumbled.

Gabriel tilted his head, not quite understanding you.

You bit your lip, heart throbbing in your chest. "Nemo " You nodded. "You should teach him how to surf."

Gabriel's eyes widened, struck by your words. "Really?"

You smiled, a wide smile. "Yes. I think he would—"

You were silenced. Silenced by Gabriel's mouth that pressed against yours. His hands cupped your cheeks while his lips drew you in with the help of his tongue, swiping at your bottom lip.

"Gabriel." You moaned.

He smiled.

"Gabriel, someone might see us."

The surfers out in the water were more than impressed to have Gabriel Medina join their morning session. Then they had spotted you too and didn't quite know what to make of it. The fact was that not many people knew of you. You weren't famous and intended to keep things that way.

"Gabriel." You gasped, a desperate plead for air as you pulled away from his lips.

"Sorry." He wiped his mouth. "I got a bit carried away."

You giggled and bent down to pick up your board. "Let's go back." You said, offering him your hand. Gabriel happily obliged and led the way back to his his house.

It was still early in the morning, Nemo most likely asleep.

"I'll go put these back in the garage. You can rins off around back."

While Gabriel returned the surfboards, you rounded the house until you stumbled upon a shower booth. A cute wooden booth like the one that they had on the beach for people to rins off the salt water from their bodies. What a luxury for Gabriel to have a private one in the middle of his backyard. Then again, he was a professional surfer bound to run in and out of the water several times a day.

"I hope the water is not too cold for—"

"My God, Gabriel!" You winced. He had barged in on you mid shower, your wetsuit hanging off the side of the booth.

"What?" He frowned, and even more so as you watched him step into the booth and out of his boardshorts as if to join you in the shower.

"B...but I'm naked." You said, shivering under the cold water.

"I know." He grinned.

"Hey." You hissed, covering your body with your arms since Gabriel clearly had zero ability to keep his eyes in check.

"Oh come on." He groand. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

"Yes but last night was.....was...."

His grin widened, his hands finding your hips. "It was perfect, wasn't it?"

"No. It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" He laughed.

"Yes, never to happen again."

Something in the way he looked at you softened. "Why?" He asked, with the eyes of a lost puppy. His hair wet and flat again his forhead.

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because, Gabriel. Just because"

He chuckled at your stubbornness. But at the same time, your hands weren't covering your body anymore. Instead, they were pressing against Gabriel's stomach. His abs bumpy underneath your palms. He looked down between your bodies and didn't even blush at the fact that his erection had sprouted, fully fledged, chaving against your belly button.

"Last night was...." He trailed off little, Gabriel's eyes on your breast, admiring the shape of them as if they were more than the average size.

"Gabriel?" You giggled.

"Huh?" He lifted his head, his eyes a bit foggy.

Your hand went to split his hair to avoid water from running down into his eyes. Your arms then rested around his neck, pressing his body and his erection harder against you.

"Fuck." He groaned, as the newfound pressure trailed down his naked spine.

"We don't have to do anything." He coughed. "We could just shower."

"Just shower." You hymned, letting the thought playfully run through your mind.

"Yes, just shower." Gabriel said but couldn't keep his mouth from nibbling your ear.

"That tickles." You giggled and clung to him even more.

Gabriel grunted in response and surprised himself and you by stumbling forward, pressing your back flat against the wall.

You gasped, loud and hot, as his mouth latched onto the skin of your neck, serenading it with soft kisses.

"Fuck, Gabriel."

He responed with a guttural noise, deep down in his throat.

"Fuck, Gabriel, I need...."

"Yes?"

"I need...." Your voice was high-pitched, his knee between your thigh exploiting your desire for his body. "We have to do it fast." You nodded. "Before Nemo wakes up."

It was all Gabriel needed to hear, that you wanted him too. As soon as you gave him your consent, your feet lifted off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you harder against the shower wall.

"Gabriel, please."

He was a lost cause. A wild man with one desire. Gabriel had a hold of your body, and your legs had already spread before him. The water made it easier for him to enter you, although you were already terribly, terribly wet.

"Have mercy." You moaned, Gabriel's cock entering deep inside of you. He fucked you just like that, standing up. Your body wrapped around him, banging hard against the wall, rattling the booth with his every thrust.

Gabriel grunted and groaned, taking your glistening breast into his mouth. The pleasure was so immense, almost to a point of rapture. And when it came time for you to come you did it together. One collective sigh that was followed by the stillness of bird songs. The water got turned off, but still, Gabriel had you pressed against the wall, his cock still deep inside of you, perhaps where it always belonged.

"I love you." He said, the words spoken drunkenly and exhausted against your mouth.

You tasted him, your tounge swiping timidly across his bottom lip. "I love you too Gaby. I really do. Always have."

His breath was warm against your face. His laugh dark but youthful. "Good. That's good. Now let's go make some breakfast."

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

[fluentmoviequoter]

Beg You to Stay, Push Me Away (Part 2)

Summary: Years after your falling out in high school, you find yourself thinking about Dalton. Then the roles are reversed, and Dalton finds himself begging you to stay.

Part 1 Here!

Warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, spoilers for The Red Door (2023), I changed the frat party scene to fit this. 1.7k+ words.

“Who is that?” your roommate asks, pointing to a picture on your desk. “He’s kind of cute. In a high school, nerdy way.”

You follow her finger, spotting the picture of you and Dalton from the last summer you were friends. Nodding to yourself, you wonder who packed it and put it there, considering you put it in storage after the last time you spoke.

“That was high school. He was my best friend,” you answer.

“Was? Sounds like a dramatic ending. Tell me all about it.” She pulls her legs onto her bed and gets comfortable, prepared for the story.

“I mean, it was dramatic, but,” you shrug as you finish, “what high school falling out isn’t?”

She rolls her eyes and gestures for you to keep going.

“Basically, we had been saying for years that we wanted to go to the same college. Then one day in senior year, we had to do one of those ‘where do you want to go to college’ writing prompts and he seemed to have forgotten all of that. I probably made it a bigger deal than I should have, but the day ended in a yelling match by our lockers, and we never talked again. Over a decade of friendship ended because he wanted to go his own way, with no regard where that left me.”

“That’s rough. So, why keep the picture?”

“See, that’s the thing, I didn’t. I put it away; I didn’t pack it.”

“Seems like your family knows something you don’t.”

Your roommate smiles and begins to say something else, but her phone beeps and distracts her. She taps the screen and then quickly types something. When she looks back to you, she has a much different grin.

“What?” you nearly groan, already familiar with her myriad of facial expressions. This one means she has a “great idea,” which you probably won’t like.

“We’re going to a frat party,” she answers, standing and walking to your closet.

“Where?”

“JPU.”

“Okay. Why?”

“My friend Chris invited us. She’s taking her roommate, and I think you could handle a night out.”

She tosses an outfit onto your bed, gives you a serious look, then moves to her closet.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you tease as you stand to change.

“You love me, don’t kid yourself.”

As you get ready, your roommate distracts you by helping you with your outfit and hair, but your eyes keep straying to the picture of you and Dalton. Cheek-to-cheek, huge smiles on your face; it feels like yesterday and an eternity ago at the same time. If you were honest with yourself, you’d say you miss him, but it hurts too much, so you convince yourself that you’re still mad at him.

When your roommate deems both of you “hot and ready,” and laughs at your comment about sounding like fried chicken, she leads you to her car. As the campus fades in the rearview, you wonder what school you would be at if you’d followed Dalton or if he’d come with you. You found a college with a program that matched your interests and, as an added perk, is a several-day drive from your hometown. Dalton should be the furthest thing on your mind; he surely wasn’t thinking of you. Rolling your shoulders, you give yourself a silent pep talk, deciding to stay just as far away as Dalton had pushed you.

“Chris told me to park in their dorm lot and walk, is that okay?” your roommate asks as she turns into the back entrance of the campus.

“Sure,” you answer. “How do you know Chris?”

“Next door neighbors since we were born. I love her like a sister.”

She finds an empty spot, and you both begin walking toward frat row, following the directions in Chris’s text. The music is audible before the house is visible, and you feel Dalton slip a little further from your mind. As you walk through the door, someone squeals and then nearly tackles your roommate in a hug.

“Hi, I’m Chris. So glad you guys could come,” Chris says, pulling you into a hug.

You return the hug and introduce yourself before following them into the kitchen. Chris begins talking about something that happened when they were kids, so you excuse yourself to look around. You end up by the stairs and decide to go up and get away from the crowd for a minute.

“Whoa! You’re too pretty to go to school here,” a guy says as he staggers past you on the stairs.

When you reach the landing, you turn right and run into someone, grabbing their biceps to right both of you.

“I’m sorry,” you say at the same time.

As you look up, your eyes widen, and your breath catches.

“Dalton?” you whisper.

“Excuse me, I need to get out of here,” he says, the second part more to himself.

He takes a step to go around you and stumbles. You catch his arms again, ignoring the feeling of his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Let me help, Dalton. Where are you going?”

He mumbles his dorm building and number, allowing you to slip an arm around his waist and support him. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you ask him to stop and text your roommate that you’re helping someone and will meet at the car later. She sends a thumbs up in response, so you push Dalton’s chest up and encourage him to keep moving. He mumbles to himself during the walk, but you only catch words here and there. You had finally been able to get him off your mind, and then he literally stumbled back into your life.

“Dalton, which floor?” you ask at the bottom of the stairs.

His head lulls over onto your shoulder, and he whispers an answer before saying, “Close the door.”

You look behind you and ensure the door is closed before going up the stairs. It’s slow going, but you finally reach Dalton’s dorm room, and would be surprised that it’s unlocked if you didn’t know him so well. You lead him to his bed, helping him sit down. Dalton stops mumbling, and his coordination is returning. While he stares at the floor, his eyes visibly clearing as if he’s waking up, you take the time to look at the drawings on his wall.

“I see you got into art school,” you say to yourself.

One picture catches your eye. There’s a picture of you, only it looks older than the others. Your leg brushes Dalton as you lean in to get a closer look. Dalton shifts beside you, but your attention is glued to the detail he includes in his works.

Dalton whispers your name, and when you look at him, he asks, “Are you really here?”

You nod and step back, suddenly aware that you’re touching him. His arm raises, and he grasps your wrist, eyes wide as you move.

“Please don’t leave me. If you’re really here, please don’t leave me,” Dalton begs.

You freeze, unsure what to do. Realizing that the roles have been reversed, you decide not to push Dalton away like he did to you. Dalton was your friend for a long time, and you know that this distress he is showing is genuine, and you hope you remember how to help him. Stepping closer, you twist your hand to hold his as you push his hair out of his face. You’re standing between his legs, and he looks up at you, eyes glassy and brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never should have treated you like that. You were right, I should have remembered,” Dalton apologizes repeatedly.

“Dalton,” you say, drawing his attention. “You broke my heart. And it wasn’t just that day; after your coma, it seemed impossible to get through to you. Every time I tried to talk to you it felt like I was walking through a minefield, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had by stepping on the wrong one.”

“Then I ruined it,” he says.

You nod, but your hands remain on him.

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head, but his fingers gently squeeze your hand as he adds, “Don’t tell me not to apologize, please, I don’t deserve that. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. If you’re willing to listen, I can explain everything – almost everything – that happened. And I know a second chance is the last thing I-“

You gently shush him before asking, “What happened?”

“It wasn’t a coma,” Dalton begins before telling you everything he knows about his ability to astral project, the Further, and the door that must be closed.

Processing his words, everything he just told you, you remain silent. You step back, and Dalton’s face falls until you sit beside him.

 “That makes sense,” you state.

“Really?”

“Don’t forget how well I know you - or knew you.”

“You still do.”

“Congratulations on getting into art school; these are amazing.”

Dalton looks past you and then meets your eyes. “The one at the end? I drew that the day of our fight.”

“Dalton.”

“You were right. You didn’t deserve to be pushed away, and I will never forgive myself for breaking your heart. But since the moment you begged me to stay, my heart has been yours,” Dalton says, leaning closer to you.

Taking a deep breath, you blink and feel a tear run down your cheek. Dalton raises his hand and wipes the tear. His hand rests on your cheek as you look into his eyes.

“Maybe you didn’t break my heart. Maybe you had mine like I had yours,” you suggest quietly.

Dalton smiles, and you lean against his hand.

“But I need you to do something before we start this again.”

Dalton nods quickly, willing to do anything and everything for another chance with you. He’ll beg you to stay for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes.

“Forgive yourself,” you say. “Because I already did. And I can’t let the man I love carry around that kind of guilt.”

Smiling at each other, Dalton decides to beg one more time tonight for a kiss from the one that nearly got away.

[phaticserpent]

hello! It's me again. Could you write Ultron with a autistic readwe who also has ADHD? Being self indulgent on this here eve and everytime Ultron comes on screen I think 3 things 1. He's so Fucking pretty! 2. ✨s h i n y✨ 3. I for some reason wanna bite the being made of vibrainium, not a smart idea. So I would like to request Ultron getting reader chewlery, reader then happy stimming because Ultron isn't judging them for having sudden urges to bite and he Fucking UNDERSTANDS THEM. And if what I've requested is already and you don't want to do this next ask (or you do and are just going to make a part 2) in the early stages of them being together (in any sense i.e. Living together, being friends, etc) Ultron would constantly catch reader staring at him and when he finally asked them, read just goes, "oh, your really shiny and nice to look at. Sorry if I was being weird or something." If this is too much to write I completely understand, you don't have to do all of it, if any of it. Hope you have a good day/night

It's no problem, don't apologize! I enjoy the asks!! I'll try my best to not generalize autism/adhd (but note, I will also be taking inspiration from me LOL)

There was a sense of calm but also hyperactivity sharing a house with Ultron. Ever since you two met, you couldn't take your eyes off him. He was just so.....shiny.

And smooth. You always imagined metal to be rather disorganized, rough, and sharp. But Ultron wasn't that. He was living and you just wanted to run your hands to feel him. However, you were too awkward to ask so you just kept it to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, he was aware of your stares and the way you would gawk at him. He had assumed it was because he was foreign and unordinary; he understood that people typically stare at peculiar things. He didn't mind, so he tries to do everything to keep you comfortable and safe.

Yet, you continued to stare at him with those wide eyes. He couldn't tell if you were fascinated or weirded out, especially with the way you would avert your gaze when he turned to face you. Finally, he confronted you,

"You've been staring at me since the day we met and moved in......I can't really tell if you're uncomfortable or....."

"Oh! No, no, no." You hastily explained. "You're just really shiny and smooth and beautiful.....I just can't help but stare. You're really nice to look at."

"Oh.......oh." He was absolutely bewildered he was regarded in that sense.

You shifted nervously, a little afraid that you made him uncomfortable, but he simply smiled at you softly. You felt a sudden pang of feelings, and your face flushed. "Y-yeah, you're really.....beautiful."

"Thank you." Ultron smiled, but he had to keep himself from exploding from utter joy. He turned his face away, skeptical and afraid that you could see everything he was feeling.

The two of you awkwardly fiddled with your hands, trying to act normal. And ever since then, you started opening up more. He enjoyed your company and personality; it brought him a lot of relief and energy to see you so happy.

He caught onto the small bits: how you loved thunderstorms during the summer, and how you could stay for hours staring out the window. How you would often fiddle with your silver ring, even take it off your finger to stare at it and clean it so it would be extra shiny. He caught onto the signs without you realizing it.

Until one day, he was busy lost in thought and you took his chance to cure your curiosity and urges. You slipped behind him, testing his systems and waving a hand around him cautiously. A little scared, you rested your chin on his shoulder before you stared down at the metal. It was so smooth and shiny.....

So you bit onto it. Ultron briefly paused his thoughts and turned to look at you. You immediately let go, and pretended to clean it with your sleeves.

"Heh, it was a little dirty." You sheepishly excused.

"....you like to stim with metal." He pointed out. Your eyes widened in shock. "I think it's cool and honestly, you're completely valid for that. Metal is fun to play with and it's shiny."

".....you're not mad?"

"Why would I be?"

"Cause I bit you?"

"I really don't mind, I was just caught off guard, that's all." Ultron smiled. "I think you're cute."

There was a pause when he realized what he said.

"O-oh! I meant 'it', I think it's cute!"

"Mhm," you raised your brow at him, while Ultron merely averted his gaze from you. Truth be told, he was relying on you to take advantage of his distraction to see if you would actually bite him.

He had been working on something for you, a customized metal chewlery. Though, he wasn't entirely sure if you would like it. So when he finished it, he was hesitant to present it to you.

One evening, he took the perfect opportunity to give you the gift.

"Uh....hey, I wanted to give you something."

"Hm? You shouldn't have!" You exclaimed. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion." Ultron fiddled sheepishly as you opened the box. He wanted to see your reaction, but he was scared you were going to be disappointed. He heard you gasp and cry out.

"This is the best thing I've ever gotten!" You shouted. "You're awesome, thank you!"

"You like it?" Ultron stared at you, bewildered.

"I love it!" You threw your arms around him. Once pulling away, you stared at the accessory more. It was smooth and really shiny. Each bead was different, differently shaped and differently colored.

"I'll try to explain it quickly..... I had to experiment with a lot of metal and see which one is both edible and durable. Each metal is a different subspecies of the one I experimented with. To keep your stim happy and occupied, I made sure each one is different to color and taste."

"I can't stress this enough, you're awesome!" You smiled. "I can't believe you went through that much to make me something like this. It means a lot!"

"Of course!" Ultron smiled at you.

"Are you scared that I might make dents?"

Ultron chuckled, "that's a small part of it."

Everytime he watched you nibble on the accessory, he becomes ecstatic and happy to see you enjoy something he made.

[cryptidsurveys]

Friday, October 11th, 2024.

What was the filling in the last doughnut you ate? It didn't have any filling, but it was strawberry flavored.

Do you remember what you had for dinner on Saturday evening? Either a salad or a sandwich with mixed veggies. It's almost always one of those two things. I'm a very, very repetitive eater. My tastes and routines eventually change, though, so I kind of wonder what's next.

When was the last time you bought a new pair of shoes? What kind/colour? Last summer. I bought a black and white pair of slip-ons and a black pair of regular laced shoes (kind of like Converse but not).

Do you own any items of clothing that you've never worn? Yeah.

When you shop for new clothes, do you ask anyone else for an opinion? I might have when I was younger, but not in recent years.

What was the last thing that you considered buying, but chose not to? Halloween decorations. I did get a few things, but I tried not to go completely overboard. I decided I am going to decorate and hand out candy after all. Keep the tradition alive.

Who was the last person you were required to buy a gift for? I wasn't required to buy her a gift, but I bought some things for my mom last Christmas.

And what did you choose? A stuffed penguin (they're her absolute favorite animal), a Cheshire cat mug, a movie gift card, and a concept book (not really sure what to call it?) for one of her favorite artists.

Have you ever accidentally bought someone a gift that they already had? I've purchased the same item from someone's wish list as someone else, but I don't know whether I was technically the second person or not.

Can you recall the last time you bought flowers for someone? What kind? I don't think I've ever bought anyone flowers.

And when was the last time someone sent flowers to you? What kind? I don't think anyone has ever sent me flowers. Bought them, maybe, but I can't be sure of that either.

Are you a keen reader? If so, what books are you planning to read soon? I'm not nearly as keen of a reader as I used to be. I also don't have any serious plans regarding what to read next. There are books I would like to read, but I know myself well enough not to make any promises.

How many books do you think you own? Just take a rough guess. Idk where to draw the line between books I personally own and books that exist within this house, but maybe something like 100+. That's excluding religious books that are definitely my dad's; but if we include those, then...who even knows. He's got a little library.

Are there any books that you own more than one copy of? Possibly. The most likely one would be Watership Down.

Lipstick, lip gloss, or neither? Just chapstick.

What brand of mascara do you use, if any? None.

What was the last minor disappointment that you experienced? Car trouble last Sunday that prevented my dad and I from going to the Mountain Park. We made it out there yesterday, though.

Do you have loyalty cards for any of your favourite stores? Which one(s)? I don't. I should probably get one for the movie theater, though. I think I go there often enough that it would be worthwhile.

What scent does your hand sanitizing gel have? It doesn't have a particular scent.

What does your favourite mask look like, if you have a favourite? This question was on a relatively recent survey, and I remember wondering whether the survey-maker meant a Covid mask or a Halloween mask. Considering this question comes just after a hand sanitizer one, I'm going to assume they mean a Covid mask. I had some cute ones that I snagged from a doctor's waiting room before Covid was even a thing. They were meant for kids and had little designs on them, but I no longer remember what they were. For the most part, though, I just wore the stereotypical blue masks. I didn't have any reusable/stylish ones.

Do you remember what you had for lunch last Sunday? The same "either/or" I mentioned for the dinner question above.

Is there a bottle anywhere close to you? What does it contain? There's a water bottle and a migraine med bottle on my desk.

As a child, what was a trait or habit you had that annoyed your parents? My mom was occasionally annoyed by my shyness. I was very reluctant to talk to cashiers, waiters, etc. I don't think she was frustrated in a mean way, but more like, "You're going to have to learn how to do this eventually…"

What was the last TV series that you watched for the first time? I'm not sure.

And what did you think of it? N/a.

Tell me about something you did within the last week, that brought you joy. Go on a hike with my dad. He can't go as far as he used to, which is admittedly sad/disappointing, but it makes me treasure the adventures we do have all the more.

[lilahaze]

"lobby"

i demand that i walk. the man holds fast, a boulder cemented into the riverbed. threatened by his low, eerie gaze and the metal clipped to his belt loop, i sink abashedly into the wheelchair.

his heavy breaths are not nearly as sweet as those of a diabetic; neither are those of his men, complete with neatly-pressed uniforms and a lack of regard. the eyes of patients and employees alike bore into me as i am rushed past, skinny and resistant. all had deemed me pitiful, their opinions unchanged since my arrival a week prior. this was not how my plan was supposed to go; i should be corralled inside a shabby house, corrupted by ham sandwiches and my third day of drama club practice. i should be anywhere but condemned to a wheelchair surrounded by unfamiliarity save for my stuffed rabbit clutched tightly in hand.

my conscience sold, i confirm that the facade i had meticulously crafted throughout the past eleven months had been shattered. alongside greying locks, my parents remain accusatory. with a cold spine curved toward the north winds, i had spent days justifying and elaborating upon my truth that had adopted the form of a waning crescent i still yearn to taste.

my parents have never listened to me. my parents have never listened to anyone.

eyes locking onto the stretcher, i quickly regret my distaste for the wheelchair; i wish that i had been left to rot atop the cell-littered cot that had exemplified death. i miss the open-backed gowns littered with cartoon tigers, mesh underwear, and my view from the sixth floor. i wish for anything but as the men coax belts across my limbs, dark leather contrasting against the whites of bony wrists.

distrusting, i observe how their knuckles brighten against the silver bars aa i am wheeled into the sun. the september air tastes of my father's cholesterol pills.

dark sunglasses slip from the bridge of his speckled nose as he settles into the passenger seat of the silent ambulance that had escaped his grasp. red metal aglitter and engine brought alive, we are swiftly driven to the west end of the block.

i had sworn that i would not run had my father been permitted to drive me to the ward, the hospital staff riddled with disbelief. his retinas burnt the unbrushed strands from the crown of my head, evidence of his abuse littering the stretcher. the financial burden of my state, crouched atop the extruded aluminum, assures me that i would not be walked from as i had walked from the shabby house, syringe needles beneath my heels.

the back doors thrown open, i shrink in the face of noon: my perpetrator. closed eyes do not deliver me from my fate. i refocus my pupils. the wheels roll forward. i know well that the scent of alcohol wipes and fear will sap my senses for weeks. i know this yet i remain stunned as i am pushed into the lobby and off to the side to allow the men to speak with the receptionist.

white tile under wheels, strained wrists and the suffocation of cheap fluorescence: i ponder reality to distract myself from the fact i remain restrained. i am a spectacle and the lights are the color of my hospital underwear. the crude stars atop my nails lopsided, i know i am not an artist, however, i claim to be one. this is why the doctors will only allow me the joy of colored pencils under direct supervision. i am the tile, they are the wheels. this is how it will be.

i yearn for a father that would raise his hands and command the men to stop. alas, i remain bound to a father that smiles behind his sunglasses. i remain bound to a father that laments that there is, supposably, nothing he can do and leaves me to stare at the back of his work shirt as he exits.

i will lose time to the rough wind of late summer. the psychiatrist, gloved and in possession of a tendency to sentence thirteen-year olds with bruised thighs to countless sleeps behind barred windows, will count my scars and classify me as a danger to myself. he is not required to inform me of his educated guess as to the number of times i have mercilessly taunted myself. regardless, he will be wrong. i have learned that psychiatrists are often wrong. earth rotates regardless of my sentence to track the days and repress my wish for another chaotic saturday. time, burrowed inside the grandfather clock nailed to the sage-hued wall of my living room, has ignored my burning gaze and continues quite alike it always has. today will not be the day it ceases and certainly not for me: a sun-bleached ward of the state.

[forgeofthenine]

Our houses are the opposite here is texas lol. They’re built to release heat, back in January 2021 we had a snowocalypse and I literally had ice forming inside my apartment 😭

All the roads iced over, everyone’s pipes were bursting, we were literally stuck in our apartment complex for 6 days without running water because our car couldn’t get up the hill to leave because the ice kept freezing over the roads at night ��

I will 100% take freezing temps over the hell we had this summer though.

Lots of older homes here (like the ones I and all my childhood friends grew up in) were generally a lot nicer in winter than summer, tbh I definitely miss living in a house with a wood fireplace. They're decently expensive to run but they warm up a house so perfectly. That being said, the prevalence of wooden window frames does make a lot of older homes where I grew up pretty drafty.

As of earlier this year I live in a colder part of the country but my place is basically built to be a heat trap all year round, prefect in winter and makes me so glad for the AC in my lounge during summer.

Regarding the big Texas freeze I remember that being on the news! It was insane to watch from afar, especially during the middle of our summer. Sounds like you had a very rough go of it too, I can't imagine not having running water for 6 days!

[writingwordsanddrawingpictures]

So, I did a thing...

As any of you who, for reasons best known to yourselves, still follow me (and aren’t a porn bot!) you’ll know that it’s been a couple of years since I posted anything original, either writing or art. Fair to say I’ve been in a slump and I’ve not really done anything creative for *gestures wildly* reasons...

However...

I saw last Friday’s FFF prompt - An Eternal Summer - and it spoke to me. More to the point, it wouldn’t give up so I started typing on my phone while waiting for some rice to cook (rock & roll!). I then had to leave it to one side (work and other commitments getting in the way), but picked it back up again this Friday (armed with the new FFF prompt as well - What Comes Next) and ended up writing until about 2am.

It’s ended up being rather more than a flash fic at around 3,200 words (so I hope you don’t mind being tagged in anyway @flashfictionfridayofficial), and as I said, it’s the first thing I’ve written in a couple of years, and it’s rough, but I hope you enjoy it.

An Endless Summer / What Comes Next?

People often say that they wish things could last forever - a day, a night, a holiday - but they never stop to think what the consequences of that could be. Me? I was living them.

Years ago, when I was in my awkward early teens, I had an experience that changed my life. I'd never been a popular person, certainly not one of the 'cool' kids as I was far too shy and, dare I say, nerdy. It was the start of the summer holidays, and I'd been looking forward to the break from school - not so much the place, more the other students. People can be cruel, especially if there's something different about you, and teenage girls can be some of the worst offenders. Anyway, I was going to be taking a trip to the countryside to visit some distant relatives and, hopefully, de-stress. It was a gift from my parents for acing my exams, plus I think they didn't want to face having me around the house for the whole summer. It was somewhere down around Devon and Cornwall, I can't remember the name of the village, but it was a picturesque place with winding, tree-lined country lanes that made you feel like you were in Middle Earth and you were going to stumble across a group of hobbits heading off on an adventure around the next bend. My relatives' place turned out to be a small farm on the edge of the village - not what I'd expected, but a world away from the city I'd come from. For some reason, I'd never really heard my folks talk about these relations - a pair of sisters, I thought - other than in slightly hushed tones as if they were the black sheep of the family. The reality, as I experienced it, was that they were warm, welcoming and very friendly. We hit it off from the moment I turned up with my backpack, and I loved helping them out on the farm with the animals and crops. They were more family to me than some of my closer blood relations - funny how these things work - and they took me under their collective wing, teaching me a lot about life including why they were treated the way they were by the rest of the family. But, I digress. I need to set this down so there's at least some record of why things are the way they are now, and my role in causing it. Even though I worked hard at the farm, I still had plenty of time to explore the surroundings. The 'sisters' had told me some of the local folk tales, and cautioned me about certain areas, but I didn't regard some of the folksy warnings as being serious - I mean, fairies, goblins and that aren't real... One afternoon I was wandering through a local wood and came across a beautiful clearing. The sun was breaking through the leafy canopy, giving a gorgeous dappled lighting to the place. I could hear sweet birdsong and, if I was still, I could see a rare red squirrel on one of the nearby trees was eyeing me nervously. "Don't worry, your nuts are safe around me." I told them, giggling to myself. To my surprise, they settled down on the branch they were on and just regarded me with curiosity. Slowly, I set down my small day pack at the foot of a sturdy oak and pulled out my sketchpad. "You don't mind if I...?" I asked the squirrel, feeling a little foolish. I still swear to this day that the squirrel gave me a small nod, while repositioning slightly, as if to say 'okay, but this is my best side'. I don't know how long I was sat there under the broad branches of the oak, sketching my subject in the most perfect light, but I became aware of a presence behind me. "Oh! You've captured Peter's cheeky character so well there!" A melodious voice exclaimed behind my right ear. "Thank you, I... Wait... Ahhhhhh!" I jumped, remembering I was in the woods and had no idea who this was. I scrambled, clutching my pad and pack to my now heaving chest, and turned to where the voice had come from. I swear it was a trick of the light, but the figure I could see was bathed in a greeny-golden aura and I'm sure I saw slightly pointed ears. The most surprising thing was just the sheer feeling of positive feelings that were radiating from this figure - beauty, confidence, serenity, playfulness...actually, a lot of playfulness. I was awestruck. Then I blinked, and saw someone about my own age, still beautiful, but slightly rugged with it. Dirty knees, some grass stains on their wispy skirt and top, which looked really out of place with their boots. They - she, I think - regarded me curiously, head cocked to the side almost like the squirrel earlier. Then she looked concerned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you'd heard me when I walked up, but I think you were too engrossed in your drawing - which is beautiful, by the way." Her voice was strangely deep, not what I was expecting it to sound like, but it was also warm and soothing like a warm bath at the end of a hard day's work. "I... I... Thank you?" "Do you think I could have a closer look at it, please? Peter tends to be so shy, so I'm surprised he was such a willing subject for you." The mellow sound of her voice was definitely calming, although my heart was still pounding for some reason. "I... I guess so. Wait, Peter?" "I may have named him when I first saw him. I come here a lot, so it seemed rude to not name my friends." While my brain was struggling to comprehend what it was hearing, she stepped closer to me, extending her hand. She moved with the poise and grace of a dancer, but carefully as if trying to not spook a scared animal. She succeeded. "I forget my manners, I'm Faye" I blinked again, gave my head a little shake, then placed my hand in hers. "R...Riley." "A pleasure to meet you, Riley. That's a lovely name. Suits you." Faye said, looking into my eyes which felt like she was gazing into my soul. "Th...thank you. Faye's a beautiful name too." I could feel my shock and nervousness ebbing away, even if my heart was still pounding in my chest. She smiled at me, and I'm sure I felt my heart melt. It wasn't a 'million dollar smile', but it was sincere and just made me feel...happy. She nodded to the pad I still held in a death-grip. "So, can I?" "Huh? Oh, hell. Of course!" We sat back under the oak tree and talked. Faye complimented my art, which I tried to brush off until she insisted, so I showed her some more and her face lit up. I clumsily complimented her, which she seemed to like. Turned out she was a local - had always lived in the area, and loved spending time outside, whatever the weather. A proper outdoorsy girl. I explained about being there for the summer, and enjoying the mix of farm work and exploring the outdoors... I glanced at my watch. "Hell! I need to get back." "So soon?" Faye seemed disappointed. "Sorry, I've got jobs to help out with. Can I... er... Could I maybe...?" "Tomorrow? Here? Absolutely!" She grinned. "Perfect" I said as I dropped my pad back into my pack. "Oh, what time?" "Whenever you can. The trees will tell me when you're here." She winked at me and I'm sure my heart briefly stopped. "Huh...? Okay, sure. See you tomorrow, Faye!" "May your feet guide you safely back, Riley." I was a little late back, but the 'sisters' could see I was happy about something, so let it go without comment. My meetings with Faye became the part of my day I looked forward to the most. She just made me feel more at ease than anyone else I'd ever known, including my parents. We'd talk, laugh, play silly games and just enjoy each other's company. She even managed to persuade me to draw her. It's not something I do, as people are so hard to get right, and it took a couple of sittings, but I finally got something I was reasonably happy with. "Can I see? Can I see? Can I see?" Faye was practically jumping up and down with excitement and anticipation. I knew I couldn't put this off any longer. "Okay, but just remember I've done the best I can - I'm no portrait artist." "Show me! Show me! Show me!" I opened the pad and handed it to Faye. She looked down at the paper and her face shifted into a look of utter shock. "What's wrong? Don't you like it? I knew this was beyond m..." Faye pressed a finger to my lips, still staring at the picture. A tear formed in the corner of her right eye, rolled down her cheek and dripped onto the edge of the page. She closed her eyes, still keeping her finger on my lips. My heart was pounding fit to burst. I reached out my hand to her shoulder, and she was trembling. What had I done? My mind was going into overdrive with all the ways this was going to go wrong. Faye's finger briefly pressed harder on my lips, then she lifted it away. "Faye?" I asked, worriedly. Without saying anything, she turned to face me, then threw her arms around me, holding me tightly. I could feel her still shaking, her warmth, and the pounding of her heart as well. We stood like this for an eternity, or so it felt, neither of us saying a word. Me, too scared to, Faye, I didn't know. I felt her cheek move against mine, followed by the warmth of her breath against my ear. "It's beautiful beyond words. You are such a special person, Riley, and you have a rare talent." I felt tears start to roll down my cheeks, and held her tighter. It was hard heading back to the farm that evening after such an intensely emotional afternoon. I think the 'sisters' could tell I was struggling with something, so I was given a free pass on the jobs for the evening, and they both came to see me individually later to see what was wrong. I was torn - I knew they were genuinely trying to help, but I couldn't put into words what I was feeling. In retrospect, I know they would have known exactly what I was feeling, but that's hindsight for you. I didn't sleep well that night. I had so many things running around in my head. The end of summer - and my time there - was looming like a black cloud on the horizon, and I didn't know what to do. I wanted to stay, but knew I couldn't. I wanted to keep seeing Faye, but I'd be so far away from her. What had happened to me? I'd sort of had friends, but I'd never had someone I felt so close to, so much a part of. The following day was a blur. I was on autopilot during the morning until I'd done all the jobs I'd been asked to do. Then I grabbed my pack and set off to our clearing. It was still as beautiful there as the first time I saw it, and I think that's what started the first of the tears. I sat down under the oak and then the floodgates opened. It wasn't fair. The first time I'd felt comfortable, the first genuine friend I'd made, and it was all going to disappear in a couple of weeks. I sobbed my heart out. As the tears subsided, I realised there were arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, and a warmth pressed against me. "Oh Riley, my dear." "Faye?" I croaked. "I'm here. It's okay." We sat like that for a while, then Faye moved round to sit in front of me. She gently placed her hands on my cheeks and rested her forehead against mine. "Faye?" "Yes, my dear?" "I... I wish this summer could last forever." Silence. Strangely, not even any birdsong. It was like the world was on pause apart from the two of us. "An eternal summer? Would that make you happy, Riley?" "If... If I..." I sighed "Only if I could spend it with you." I heard Faye's breathing hitch in her chest. "I... I would also like that, Riley. It's been lonely." "Then I wish for an eternal summer, together with you." "Are you sure, Riley?" "I am, Faye." I heard Faye exhale, as if she'd been holding a breath in for an eternity. "Then it shall be so, this I promise." Faye took one of her hands from the side of my face and lifted my chin up until I was eye to eye with her, the tips of our noses now touching. "I promise." She tilted her head slightly to the side, then kissed me on the lips. I was not prepared for that! It was the first time I'd been kissed on the lips, and the passion I could feel behind it was incredible. I placed a hand on the side of Faye's face and kissed her back. My world was exploding, and I didn't care. I now knew what I'd been feeling, and I wanted to say it out loud. I pulled back gently and looked at Faye. "I..." She softly put a finger on my lips and leant forwards so she could whisper in my ear. "I love you too, Riley." And then she whispered something else, a name I think, and I was overcome with a flood of emotions, images that made no sense, and a cacophony of voices. All was still. "Faye? I don't feel..." The next thing I remember after that was waking up in my bed at the farm with the 'sisters' sat nervously by the bedside. I don't know what happened, but I'd apparently been out cold for a day. Someone had brought me back - although they couldn't say who, and when I asked "Faye?", they shared a knowing yet scared look. I was on bed rest for the following day, which really annoyed me, but I wasn't given any choice in the matter. I resolved myself to going to see Faye the next day, but the best laid plans, and all that... I was in one of the barns when the 'sisters' came to find me. They'd had a phone call and my folks had been in an accident. My mum was okay, but dad was in hospital in a bad way. I needed to go back now. I hurriedly packed up my backpack, thinking about Faye and my folks, and headed out to the 'sisters' truck for the ride to the station. On my way to it, I spotted a fox sat next to a package wrapped in a wispy fabric. I'll swear the fox nodded at me, then the package, then back at me. Getting the message, I grabbed the package on my way past and received another nod from the fox before it wandered off. I ran the rest of the way to the truck and jumped up into the flatbed so I could get my last lungfuls of fresh air before the train ride back to the city. As we drove, I checked the package I'd picked up. There was an intricately carved stone of some description threaded onto a  thin strip of leather to make a necklace; my sketch pad, which I'd forgotten I'd left with Faye; and a note, written in the most beautiful hand I'd ever seen: Riley, my love. I know you have to go back, but I will be here waiting for you to return and enjoy our eternal summer together. If you feel lost, hold the stone and think of me. Keep it close to your heart. May your feet guide you safely back. I couldn't make out the signature, but it looked too long for 'Faye'. I'd decipher that later, I decided as I tied the necklace together around my neck and stowed the note, my pad and the fabric into my pack. The journey home was uneventful, and I spent the rest of the holiday before school resumed going back and forth to the hospital. Luckily, my dad was always stubborn and managed to make a decent recovery. No-one noticed anything odd with the weather until about October... Everywhere was still experiencing summer weather, even though it was supposed to be autumn. Climate change was the answer that satisfied people... ...until it was 30 degrees on Christmas day. And it didn't stop there. It was summer in January, February, March, April...all year round. That meant far less rain, rivers and reservoirs drying up, crops starting to fail... Not in the first year, there were still ways to mitigate at that point. But the longer the summer lasted, the bleaker - ironically - the outlook was. Being on an island, desalination plants were trialled, and were successful in some areas. That's where the deregulation of sewage release into the sea came back to bite firmly on the arse. During this time, I studied, I worked, and I joined a gym to keep up my fitness. I also learnt to box, which definitely helped reduce issues at school. I also missed Faye terribly. I tried calling the 'sisters' to see if they'd pass a message on for me, but as soon as I'd mention Faye, they'd get nervous and change the subject. I didn't remember about the eternal summer promise until our 7th year of summer. Scientists had given up trying to find a cause, and were just fighting to keep us alive. We ended up going underground instead of going ever skyward, because it was cooler. There were also some underground watercourses that were still viable. For now. I tried and tried to contact Faye, but to no avail. The 'sisters' had vanished, and a lot of villages had either been abandoned or demolished in the pursuit of going underground. I studied the necklace, note and fabric, having no other leads. The carvings were similar to some designs said to relate to the 'Fair Folk', or Fae. That set me off to learn everything I could about them. Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe they did exist. I also studied contract law, hoping if they did exist it might give me a hand in bargaining. Either way, I'm here, ten years on from a wish I made as a teen that's completely changed the world. I am not a 'chosen one', I don't have years of combat / magic training to make me a force to be reckoned with. There is no prophecy foretelling my defeating this problem. I'm a woman with an eclectic mix of skills, a desire to put things right, and a need to find the Fae I love - whose real name I now remember. I will move heaven and hell to solve this, or die horribly in the attempt. What comes next? Where do we go from here? Cornwall seems a good place to start.

@contes-de-rheio, @bookishdiplodocus, @pheita, @siarven, @aeschknight, @madammuffins, @esbarrison-author

Hope you guys don’t mind being tagged here

[nextkaratekid]

I’ve wanted to scream and shout and write this out for a long time since probably last summer at a family road trip when I came into a realization my own hyper-independence as well as homegirl from HSMTMTS, Gina Porter.

In this essay I will - 

YES THIS IS A WHOLE SERIOUS ASS ESSAY Y’ALL

- talk about how in relation to Gina’s hyper-independence and her breaking away from and unlearning that from her own family life, the group of friends she made, and even the boys she loved.

Let’s start by praising out homegirl, Sofia Wylie. Babygirl deserves all the flowers and I’m glad she’s fronting these flicks cause she always been, did, done THAT!

So let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start:

- Season 1 of HSMTMTS: 

We first meet Gina whomst is NEW and has had this tendency to see every walking human being as incomparable competition. Striving to be the best and beat the best by any means necessary, something her mom always ailed on her despite not being around to witness. 

Then by the end of the season when we see the growth, potential, and desire for a community especially having confided in Ricky, who in this case - too, was also an outsider - the hope she had almost lost in regards of having to move again but EJ and Ashlyn being there for her and going out their way to give her a home, something she never had before was icing on the cake.

She’s grown from not trusting people for being there for her to allowing herself to have hope and find home in a chosen family that genuinely care for her well being and take her in as their own.

I feel like for me, not that I saw people as competition, but I was surrounded by people who I thought felt like home but saw the world pessimistically through a lens of needing to be better than anyone. 

I knew the power I possess, but I never wanted to project that onto folks. However, sometimes when someone crosses me or does something uncomfortable to me in their own selfish ways or reasonings, it does keep me from wanting to do anything with them. 

But, I feel like with Gina I found people, or more so, they found me in the midst of my flaws and an era were I was lost because I had no solid ground or foundation of circle of friends and family to count on.

- Season 2 of HSMTMTS:

Homegirl starts staying with Ashlyn and learns truly what it’s like to live with another person instead of the whole “said person travels and I stay in the house aside from going out until it’s time to move again”. 

Oof, I felt this challenge cause I may not have move around like her but in my college I did got to travel and move and embrace my nomadic spirit that sharing a space with someone in a dorm room up until I got my own separate dorm my final years was rough because the privacy was not there unless I hung out at places on campus by myself. 

It’s one thing to live in a dorm where you have your own separate rooms and bathrooms, it’s another thing to live in a dorm where all of your beds are in the same room and you all share one bathroom. 

I’m pretty sure Gina must have stayed in the guest room of Ashlyn’s home cause Ashlyn had a similar situation where we don’t see her parents as much or literally at all (cause they ain’t cast them yet tbh) but she has a stable home that she’s lived in for years and has no problem opening doors for anyone to come through and kick in or stay in when necessary. 

Gina finally having a stable and steady ground at this point and allowing herself not to believe that it’s a trap and that it’s safe for her is so beautiful to see.

Let’s also talk about her relationship with Carlos as Co-Choreographer for Beauty & the Beast: she’s never truly shared a living place, and now she was sharing a working space and a professional title. Creative differences can make, or mostly break a production of any kind. Dance being Gina’s talents, obviously because of the extensive competition dance background of Sofia herself, and sharing that with Carlos was a struggle because as she stated it: she doesn’t want to be co-anything. Granted, she’s not used to it, but allowed herself to be open to collaborating instead of expecting everyone to get everything that she throws because she may do it but understands that not everyone else will. 

Truly, I’ve become collaborator in a lot of work especially professional when it comes to my business cause I’ve been a place of stubbornness that prevented me from asking for help. And I had to admit, I don’t have to nor need to figure or do everything myself.

- Season 3 of HSMTMTS (personally, me fave so far):

Chile, yes we see her at the previous deal with her growing feelings for Richard and then suppress for the benefit of others, but then allow her to see herself move on and grow with someone else. Enemies to lovers if you will since she did throw a drink at EJ’s face when he didn’t go through with a devious plan of hers prior, lol.

Truly, this has been my favorite so far because 1) we really got to see Sofia in the forefront carry the show (everyone else did their part as well), and 2) we see the awareness of how Gina knew who her past self was and wanting to grow from that 1.0 version into a more higher self and stable version to which she has a boyfriend, gets to go to camp, is going out for the lead not for sabotaging others or self-sabotaging reasons but merely because she wants to EARN something rather than take it like stealing candy for a baby.

And in the midst of all that, she had to come to her senses by the end of it clearly stating that she needs to know where she stands with others, and when EJ could no longer uphold to that, she had to let him go so she didn’t drag herself down just to be with him when he wasn’t on stable ground himself. Yes, some months later she and Richard finally made amends and kissed, which I gagged for all reasons of cuteness but also because I truly care about her happiness.

The ability to prioritize herself first and her well being because she’s never felt the ground beneath her feet, and she found the family that allowed her and gave her room to do so, and also learn how to trust, collaborate, share, and being honest with others and most importantly herself - I’m rooting for this character and see so much of myself in her.

Us hyper-independent girlies have carried so much in ourselves and the world and people who are barely around us that when we finally got the grounding and good people to support us, we got the balance we needed all along.

[nicolerrichie]

Nicole Richie's Marie Claire Greece Interview (rough English translation)

Print edition available Feb 19th. Online edition available Feb 28th.

“Music in Greece is everything. It’s everywhere and it’s so nice.” An enthusiastic Nicole Richie recalls her summer 2021 vacation in Greece. “We had come as a family to celebrate my father’s birthday, we had a huge party and had a wonderful time. We travelled all over the country and everywhere was so special. The waters of Greece are so beautiful. And people know how to have fun.”

The reason for our conversation is House of Harlow 1960, the brand that Richie has been running for about fifteen years. During this time, the company has evolved in many ways, moving from jewellery to clothes. Richie herself, the main designer of the brand, singles out as a noticeable difference regarding the immediacy of sales.

“There has been a steady upward trajectory of House of Harlow 1960, but now that I look back, I would say that the idea of selling direct to the customer was the most radical, as when we started it was unheard of.

Finding ways to connect with our clientele was initially a challenge, we’re talking about a different world fifteen years ago. But for me it was a very good lesson and something that helped me when I was a judge in ‘Making The Cut‘: the world changes, without warning and very quickly. You have to be alert, ready to adapt and find ways to fit into this new world. For me, finding a way to communicate with the buying public was very important. How do I stay in touch with them? So that’s something I always want to remind the designers of this show: everything we’re talking about today, how much it’s going to matter to people in the future — who knows where the world will be in five years? Are you able to keep up with the speed at which our lives our evolving?”

Of course, all this had to do with business decisions, since Richie does not want to confuse her personal aesthetics with her work.

“My aesthetics are not about others. However, that’s not the way I think. House of Harlow 1960 never ran behind trends. Personally, I find trends rather limiting. I prefer that we celebrate the diversity of each person. It is very important to me that my aesthetics remain intact. The things that occupied me in the evolution of the brand had to do with behind-the-scenes business decisions.”

It’s hard to believe that a woman at the forefront of fashion hasn’t changed her tastes over the decades, especially when she’s not only concerned with her own appearance, but dressing other women as well.

“When I dress, I would say that I follow emotional criteria. I do what I feel, it’s not like I open my closet and think, ‘This the woman I’m going to be today.’ Instead, I let what I feel guide me in choosing an outfit. I’m a woman who is definitely drawn to colour, but often I can only be in the mood for black and want to disappear into my day running errands. So I always start with my mood in mind. And when I’m having a day where I feel cheerful and bright, I want to play with accessories, to exaggerate. And then there are days when I just want to disappear and dress in something quieter.”

As I listen to her, strangely, images of her deafening outfits in the past form in my mind. Nostalgia often plays in a big role in fashion trends and we’ve seen this with the resurgence of interest in early 00s trends and the women who them. Does she miss them too? Is there anything you’d never want to wear again?

“The whole going back to the 00s was very interesting to me because what we’re seeing is a much more romanticised version of them, a much more careful revival of what we actually lived and wore. There are definitely designs and trends that I see as a homage to back then and think, ‘seriously, since when? I don’t get it, I don’t remember it, but ok.’ Let’s just say I’m not sure. I try to evaluate them all. But I can’t say that I feel any attachment to what I see. It’s nice to see them… Let’s say, in relation to the way I used to dress myself, I’d say I’ve moved away from low-rise pants forever. I wouldn’t say I’m a big fan of them. And I see them coming back, but it’s not for me.”

‘Making the Cut’: a reality show with designers

As an entrepreneur, Richie has learned some lessons from the [fashion] field and is ready to pass on the knowledge: “The most important advise I give to anyone who asks me is that you have to be grounded and listen to what is happening. It’s also important to spend time with people who have been in the fashion industry longer than you and be open to learning and growing.”

She herself does not refer to specific mentors, but to her collaborations themselves.

“I had many mentors. People from the fashion industry literally sat next to me and talked to me about their work over the years, about what it means to have a fashion business. This was a valuable school. And that’s why I agreed to participate in ‘Making the Cut.’ It’s because I feel so grateful to everyone who sat down with me and shared their experience on the job.”

This played a major role in Richie’s decision and the fact that she is where she is today.

“When I realised that by participating in ‘Making the Cut’ I could in turn contribute to the field, I made the decision to do it very easily. From the very first season, we were sitting with designers and asking ourselves ‘what are we based on?‘ Because the hard thing about the job is that there is no single right way to do things. As I told you, the world is changing. There are people who rely on social media and others who decide to stay away from it completely. There are so many different ways to connect with the customer.”

As for her and her brand, she has long been settled on what is the best way to approach the public.

“For me it’s the designs themselves. I spend all my time there. A really long time has passed from the creation of a garment to the moment it meets the public. And I’m happy when that happens, but the time I enjoy the most is when I’m at home designing new pieces and deciding what new jewellery, which I’m also designing, to pair with. Or calling friends, looking for partnerships.

How does she see the future? Many would like to see the House of Harlow 1960 brand develop into a lifestyle brand. The idea of expanding the brand into a series of fashionable hotels does not sound bad at all:

“No one knows where this world will be ten years from now, but I love what I do and I plan to continue doing it for a long time to come. I have so many ideas in my head and so many things I want to create. They will surely see the light of day at some light. And that fills me with excitement. As for the case of creating a hotel related to the brand, I haven’t thought about it, but I think it would be amazing. I stay in hotels all the time and take notes on what goes great and what could go better. So who knows?”

Life after 40

Nicole Richie does not hide that something has changed since she entered her fifth decade of life. “Forty is an important age, a milestone. Every year I feel more and more confident about myself in this job, more certain about my decisions. And you can’t get that with money. You can’t buy years or experience. You just have to wait, you have to experience them. It’s nice to be forty, making decisions and knowing they didn’t come from the mind of a much more gullible twenty-something. This is an age where you can perhaps be taken advantage of.

Being forty is very different because it gives you more prestige, comes with more confidence. And I enjoy it. I am calmer when making decisions and now have less and less things to prove to myself and others. I am who I am and I rely on myself. That’s actually a very liberating feeling.”

One of the biggest challenges in her life in recent years was of course motherhood: “It’s wonderful to be a mother. I love being at home and watching the kids grow and their personalities develop. It’s so much fun. The best thing in the world.” But if she could go back to the early carefree years of her adult life, What advice would she give herself? “Don’t pluck your eyebrows or piece your belly button to wear a ring.”

[vidma-kazhe]

Aaah, targeting small businesses and families to be bombed and destroyed. Yeah, that's how you save the world from hegemony -- by handing it over on a silver platter to a much crueler hegemony that has zero regard for human life and would make continents unfit for human life at a much faster pace /s

It's always funny how spoiled people from countries that never had to suffer the Soviet Union long for its return while people whose families lived under the occupation of Soviet Union are fucking traumatized by it.

Here's just a list of stuff that will be the part of the Soviet Union utopia these chucklefucks want to happen:

Yes, you will have your job basically picked for you. By association, your employer will also be entitled to your family life and what you do in your spare time -- your personal life, your problems or flaws can be made public if necessary, with workers going through your dirty laundry and domestic life in the open to shame you for not being an exemplary worker.

Your employers own you. Literally. If they tell you that tomorrow you will be flying to an entirely another region to work and live there, then you will be flying to an entirely another region to work and live there -- after all, you don't want to be fired and labeled as a social parasite, do you?

Late to work? Well, unless you were dying and have a document from a doctor proving it, you'll be doing non-paid correctional labor for weeks. Also your salary gets cut for that period. That will teach you.

Oh you want to quit? That means you don't appreciate what has been done for you, which makes you a traitor and a criminal disrupting workplace productivity. You don't get to quit, you get 2-4 months of jail.

Labor code? Don't be silly, why would you need a labor code to protect your rights? Don't you trust the ruling party to make decisions for you? You dare to doubt they want the best for you? Now you and your family be paying the price for rocking the boat. You all are getting evicted from your apartment and sent to a fucking tundra. Also, we're taking your kid and putting them into one of our orphanages. We are also changing their last name and do our best to brainwash and gaslight them into hating you and not wanting to be associated with you. If you survive the cold, lack of proper medical help, and the shittiest labor conditions, your child will be lost to you forever.

Wanna go travel? The ruling party says you don't need to travel. What are you, a spy? Don't you love it there, in your homeland that provides you with everything? Probably a talk with these nice people arriving to your house in a black car will teach you a lesson in gratitude.

Think living in Soviet Union frees you of landlords? Oh you sweet summer child, you get more than a landlord. You get a custodian (upravdom) who would stick their nose into every aspect of your life. What you buy, when you come back home, your hobbies, who you're friends with. If you're having a rough period with your partner, everyone in your dwelling will know -- and the custodian will personally approach you and tell you to stop disrupting family values or else. "Or else" means that there is a denunciation with your name in it, waiting to be sent to law enforces. If it's harsh enough, you can kiss your living place goodbye -- it will be given over to a more reliable family (or family the custodian is friends with) while you will be sent far, far away. You don't have a say in it. You don't get to argue or appeal in the court. If you suddenly think you're a person and tell the custodian to mind their business, the denunciation gets sent faster than you can finish your sentence.

"Oh" you might say, "But what if I'm entirely unproblematic and the perfect citizen?". That never stopped anyone. Any fact about you, even the most harmless, can be twisted and exaggerated to make your problematic. You like foreign literature? Suspicious. Why would you consume content made by capitalists? You want to learn foreign languages? Suspicious. Might be a collaborator. You're interested in high fashion and make cute outfits that differ from the cookiecutter stuff offered in stores provided by state? You're superficial and materialistic -- probably, it would be super easy to bribe you and make you betray your rulers.

A human-made disaster happens? Well, tough titties because your government will be hushing it up until the death toll becomes hard to ignore -- and if you question it, you'll be first on the chopping block for doubting your leaders. If you and your family are the first among being hit by the said disaster, they will bury you in nameless graves and pretend you never existed.

And the cherry on top? All the hegemons you hate so much, all the rich people you want gone will be ruling you. Giving you the bare minimum to live by and telling you to be happy you get to have a job, shaming you for wanting nice things or gaslighting you into feeling bad for experiencing burnout and not being able to work efficiently, they will be living the lives of luxury.

They'll be driving around in expensive cars while as you wait years in line to be allowed to have a poorly made car from your local manufacturing. They'll be dining in luxurious restaurants while you collect bread talons. They'll be wearing prestigious clothing and traveling to all the places they want, while you can get arrested for wearing jeans.

They will be enjoying everything they denied you -- and you won't be able to do anything because you gave them that power in exchange for empty promises. There are no legal mechanisms to make them accountable (they removed those), there is no people's choice, no courts for monitoring the actions of the ruling party.

It's amazing how people screeching "Eat the rich" would happily let the rich eat them and let the reach eat countless others for the promise of free scraps.

People love to go “ in the Soviet Union they picked your job for you 😭” yeah cunt that’s what we’re doin now too except they make you bark like a dog for three weeks straight first getting denied everywhere you wanna work until you end up somewhere you dont like anyway. Let’s just cut out that middle man why don’t we

[ssparksflyy]

the last time.

pairing : luke castellan x gn!reader summary : after letting him in through your window for months, it was time to stop. this was the last time. warnings : atrocious grammar, small cursing ( whoopsiedoo ), angst :(, reader being a hopelessly in love little shit :( word count : 1.7k a/n : im SO SORRY for not releasing stuff, i promise i tryyyy but then i get distracted </3 ( screw you adhd ) ill try harder !! in regards to the fic tho, reader lives in an apartment with a fire escape, '---' means ~flashbackkkk~, reader & luke are in a mess of a relationship, and (f/m) = favorite movie, (y/n/n) = your nickname :D alright, tysm for reading!

you honestly had no idea how you let it happen.

his first visit was on a lonely night in september, not long after he had famously betrayed camp, and you.

---

it was saturday evening, and you, unlike your parent, who was actually out with friends, were laying in bed, rewatching f/m, for the 13th time.

you were a mess, to say in the least. just before your summer at camp half blood ended, you found out that your boyfriend (maybe ex, you didn't know what to call him) was a follower of the titan, kronos. and was planning to help him overrule the gods.

like everyone at camp, this came as a total shock to you. not once the whole summer had something seemed off about luke. he was simply the same as he always was. cheerful, sweet, caring, and the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for. how could you ever suspect he was planning something like this?

this left you in a state of feeling lost once you got home. you had no idea how to handle it. you were angry at luke, he betrayed you. he left you alone, after making you believe that he would never do that. he was the reason you couldn't sleep at night. the reason you couldn't focus on your normal life. he made you feel so lost, you didn't know how to move on. so why were you still madly in love with him?

you sighed as this thought crossed your mind once more. you shut the tv off, and slumped in your bed, your hands sliding up your face then resting on your cheeks. you sat like this for a good minute, but bolted up at the sound of knocking at your window.

it was luke.

he had that stupid innocent look on his face, his eyes begging you to let him in.

you couldn't believe him. you couldn't believe he had the nerve to show up at your house, after everything he had done? you couldn't believe you were walking over to your window to let him in.

you unlocked your window, then turned around and walked a few feet away as he climbed inside your room. you heard him close the window behind him, then sigh.

"y/n/n-", he began.

"don't call me that", you said harshly.

he sighed again sadly before continuing, "im sorry."

"that's it?" you said, turning around, beginning to walk toward him, "im sorry? for what luke? for being an idiot? for betraying camp? for betraying me? you pull all this shit and all you have to say is im sorry?"

you paused about 3 steps away from him. tears were beginning to form in your eyes as you looked at him. he looked slightly different, a little more roughed up, in a way.

"yes okay, im sorry. im sorry i left you. but you've got to understand, im doing what i think is right. the gods have ignored us far too long for us to stay quiet. it's time they pay for it." he paused, then continued, "in a way, im doing this for you. for us. i want to live a life with you where we don't face the consequence of being some stupid god's kid."

you didn't know whether to believe him or not. maybe his heart was in the right place, and was just following through the wrong way? maybe he was still the luke you knew?

he closed the space that was once between you and put one hand on your waist, the other to your cheek. you stayed silent, unsure of what to say. you were still angry at him, but couldn't help but give into his touch that you hadn't realized you missed so much.

"i thought i could do this with just knowing that i'm doing this for us, but i can't. i miss you, y/n/n. i miss you every day im gone. i can't stop thinking about you, my heart yearns for you."

he was so close, your foreheads were touching and he was looking pleadingly into your eyes.

you didn't want to believe him. you wanted to be angry at him, and tell him to leave. you didn't want his stupid words to have such an impact on you. you wanted to make him leave, and never see him again.

your wants however, were overthrown by your need to kiss his stupid lips.

---

since then, he began to come at least once each month.

he never told you when he'd come, he just would.

because of this, you'd find yourself canceling any plans you had with friends, always saying, "oh, ive got plans with my (guardian)" or "sorry! can't tonight, gotta study!" just in case he'd come.

you knew you wouldn't want to risk not being home when he came, because who knew when he'd be able to again?

on the nights he did come, he came pretty late, but you'd then get him for the rest of the night. he'd fall asleep at your place, but you'd always wake up alone, staring longingly at your window.

there was always a voice in your head telling you this was wrong, and you shouldn't be seeing him. for the first few months, that voice was easy to ignore. but the closer summer came, the louder that voice got.

how would you see him over the summer?

you knew he couldn't sneak into camp, it'd be too risky. you loved seeing luke, but you wouldn't be able to if he was caught and attacked by every single camper there.

'you can't see him over the summer.', the voice would say, 'so end things with him now, you know you have to.'

you didn't want to listen to the voice, but you couldn't ignore it either. you knew you had put it off for too long. a part of you always knew that you'd have to tell luke to stop. you had just always hoped you wouldn't have to be the one to call it off.

you made your plan. the next time he came, you'd have to tell him it was the last time. you couldn't- no wouldn't allow him to visit you anymore.

the next time he came was late may.

he knocked on your window as usual, with the same stupid grin that you fell in love with on his face.

you told yourself just once more before you let him in, 'this is the last time.'

you walked over to your window, and let him in.

he came in quickly, shutting the window quietly, then turning and immediately swooping you into his arms.

"hey y/n/n" he said with a grin, just before pulling you into a kiss.

'tell him now.' the voice said.

"luke-" you said breathlessly, trying to pull away from the kiss, but failing as he connected your lips once more.

"luke i- i gotta tell you something" you say breathlessly again, as you push him away from you.

he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "what is it y/n/n"

"this.." you began, then took a deep breath in before continuing, "this is the last time i can see you."

he looked at you, confused, "if you mean before the summer, then yea, i know, i can't visit you at camp."

"no.. i mean, in general." you say firmly, "i can't keep letting you in, this is wrong luke. what you're doing is wrong. if i keep seeing you then its like im ignoring that this is wrong. i, i can't keep doing that."

his confusion slowly turned to anger. you heard it in his voice as he said, "y/n/n i told you, im doing this for us. how could that possibly be wrong?"

"i know! but that seriously doesn't justify it luke! what's gonna happen when you 'overthrow the gods' huh? the very gods that make up this world? there won't be a world if they aren't here!" you say, beginning to raise your voice. thank those said gods that your (guardian) wasn't home.

"you just dont get it y/n! and besides- don't you want me? you know i want you more than anything! you think you're the only one taking a risk to see me? every time i come here i risk my life!" luke said, his voice also rising.

"exactly! so you'll be saving yourself if you stop coming here!" you say, letting out a sigh that sounded like a laugh.

you took a step closer to him, "look, luke, i won't lie. of course i want you." you sigh before saying, "but not like this. not when we're both taking risks."

he looked down.

"join me then."

"what?"

"you heard me." he said, looking up at you, and pulling you in, "join me. and we wont be taking risks y/n. we'll be together, and you can help me make a better world for us."

"luke, no." you say sadly, you hated saying no to him, and this was already hard enough.

he looked disappointed. he wanted you to join him. he wanted to spend more time with you. he loved you, damnit. but that look on your face was enough to tell him he wasn't going to get anywhere if he continued to push you.

you both stood there, in silence for a minute. both trying to accept the fact that this was the last time you'd see each other, peacefully, at least.

luke raised his hand to the back of your head, and made your forehead touch his. you wished you could stay here forever. you wished time would just stop, so you could stay here, with luke. you'd give anything for it.

slowly, luke connected your lips. the kiss was soft, but full with such emotion. a true kiss of goodbye.

you were the one to pull away, and give luke a pained look. it felt hypocritical, you were the one to tell him that whatever you had was over, and now you were the one giving him a sad look.

luke you sighed. he began to walk to your window, but held your hand. you stayed where you were.

he opened the window, and just before he turned around, he kissed your outstretched hand, and gave you a pained look back.

he dropped your hand and began to climb out the window, but paused midway.

"goodbye, y/n/n"

"goodbye luke" you said, tears forming in your eyes.

"i love you."

he closed the window.

you fell to your knees, sobbing.

a / n pt 2 : how was it? did ya like it? what'd ya think?? :D tysm for reading <33 seriously, lmk if u liked thissss! likes, comments and reblongs r seriously appreciated, i appreciate each and every one! i'll seriously try to post more, i got some ideas, so hopefully that helps! again, tysm for reading, ur very much appreciated <3 oh also sorry if i lost my flow torwards the end, its 4am :D well, now, i will go back into my cave of a room, waiting til next tuesday's episode :)

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson

[firstbeachgoblin]

Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

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

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

[momolady]

Kelpie Boyfriend: Ciaran

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

Your grandfather was a secretive man. He often vanished for days at a time, sometimes months, only to return with a fortune in his pocket. He used to tell all sorts of stories about how he came up with the money, but no one ever believed him. His family regarded him as a gambler who wouldn’t come home without the jackpot.

When he died, it was something of a shock. Everyone had figured he would die during one of his trips and never come home, but he died in his bed. Lots of relatives who had written him off came out of the woodwork, hoping for a piece of his jackpot. You and your brother were worried, but you knew the will was ironclad. Your grandfather had made sure of that after your grandmother died. To your surprise, your grandfather left everything to you and your brother - each one of his properties, which you had no idea about, and his financial holdings, split right down the middle.

In the tumult following the bequeathal, you and your brother slip out one night, heading for the property your grandfather called the Loch House. You have to drive down an overgrown road to get to it, which goes from concrete to rough earth. The Loch House is built on stilts near the water’s edge, and there’s a marker for parking the car so the water from the lake can’t reach it. The Loch House looks nice, but it’s evident the place needs repairs and remodeling. It looks like your grandfather only ever used the place to fish from the porch.

Your brother decides he should go see his property, just in case. If it needs work, he wants to get started on it now. He helps you get started on renovations, and a few days after meeting with the crew, he leaves for his own place. You’ve not lived alone since you and your brother moved in to help take care of your grandfather, so it’s a bit strange being on your own.

You start cleaning and going through the house. Everything is so out of date, and you’ve brought only the bare necessities with you. Luckily, with the money your grandfather left you, you’ve made a giant online order for new amenities. You pack up things into boxes and begin taking them down to your car. The constant effort of going up and down the stairs is exhausting, and at last you sit on the bottom stair to take a breather before you have to go up again. You sigh heavily, looking out over the lake that stretches before your house.

That’s when you see him outside - a tall, gangly man, slightly slouched, with long dark hair, looking up at the house while standing nearly hidden by one of the beams. Jumping up in alarm, you prepare to run upstairs. “Hello?” you squeak.

The man turns, and his face looks very exhausted. He tilts his head to the side. “Hello?”

You swallow and take a step back. “Are you one of the contractors?”

The man looks around, blinking slowly. His hair is very curly and voluminous, falling off his shoulder in clumps of curls. “Nah, I live nearby.”

You take another step up the stairs. “I wasn’t aware there were neighbors nearby.”

He yawns, covering his mouth with a long-fingered hand. “Close enough. It’s been a while since someone was here.” He scratches at his cheek. “I got curious, that’s all.”

You still feel nervous about this stranger on your property. “Well, I’m kind of busy. Maybe we can talk more another time.”

He looks up at you and the sun catches his eyes, making them sparkle bright green. “Do you know Stanley?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say in surprise. “He was my grandfather. How did you know him?”

“Was?” He turns to face you fully. “That’s not good. What happened?”

“He passed away,” you say simply. “How did you know him?”

The gangly man sighs and puts his hands into his pockets. He has poor posture, slouching as if he’s too tall for the world. “I knew him when I was young. Sometimes he let me spend my summers here when my family was...” He drifts off, looking out towards the water. “Well, I kept the place safe for him while he was away. It’s been a while since I last heard from him.”

“Oh.” You take a tentative step back down the stairs. “Is there anything in the house that’s yours, then? I’m cleaning up and getting rid of things.”

“Nothing, really. Most of that stuff was there when he won the place.” He blinks slowly, heavily. “I’m Ciaran, by the way.”

You introduce yourself and smile shyly. “Nice to meet you. What do you mean, he won this place?”

“He won a fight. Wrestled someone and beat them.” Ciaran shrugs. “Pretty normal.”

“That’s not normal,” you scoff.

Ciaran smiles. “For your grandfather, it was. Well, have fun making your castle a home.” He taps his ear. “I have pretty good hearing, so if you ever need anything, just whistle.”

This guy’s kind of cute, in a Tim Burton sort of way. “Sure.”

He waves his long fingers, then turns and walks along the shore. You go back inside, locking the door behind you just in case, and continue clearing out the house, finding things shoved into closets and corners. You start to move the mattress in the master bedroom, and when you take it off the frame, you find cash shoved under it. “Jeeper creepers, Gramps,” you huff. “Winning houses in fights, money under the mattresses. What sort of shit were you doing?”

You gather up the money, shoving it into a plastic bag. Then you move the box spring, and find metal boxes lined up beneath that, as well. You scowl as you look at them, counting at least ten. “I swear to god, is this all gold?” You pick up a box, finding it heavy, but not heavy enough to contain gold.

When you open it, you find rolls of film. It’s been years since you’ve seen those little canisters and weed hasn’t been inside them. “Please don’t let there be nudes on these,” you grumble. You look up a place to send the film to have it processed, and find that a nearby pharmacy can send the rolls off and have the film back within a week. You send in the first box full of film, paying with the mattress money.

Once work begins on the place, you spend some time outside picking out a spot for a garden. There’s a patch near the parking area where you figure the rising water won’t be too awful for plants. You find some gardening tools in the house, so you figure now is as good a time as any to start a new garden.

“I just saw a fucking horse in the lake!” you hear one of the construction crew blurt from a window.

“What?” one of the others shouts. You see one of the younger crew members hanging out of a gutted window.

“A horse! In the lake!” The first worker swings his arm towards the water. “Big black horse, swimming around and shit.”

“How fucking high are you?”

“Not much. That's what’s freaking me out.”

“Dude, shut the fuck up. The client is right over there. In fact, go home. I don’t want you screaming every five minutes about the Easter bunny.”

You look back out to the lake, and see ripples in the water, but nothing to suggest a horse could have been out there.

The next day, as you’re getting up to have coffee, the sheets of plastic on the windows are flapping from the breeze. You go outside onto the porch, happy to see the repairs made to it, and as you’re pulling out a chair to sit, you hear splashing. Looking over the railing, you see signs of something dipping under the water. The surface is choppy, and there are bubbles rising from below. You hold your coffee in both hands and look around, trying to justify the disturbance as a catfish, or waterfowl. Then you go back inside.

A little later you drive out to pick up the developed film, and are so excited to see the pictures that you start going through a packet in the car. The first images look blank, completely black with maybe a red streak in the background. But the more you go through them, the more an image resolves in the successive photos. You see the sun rising in the background, and a silhouette rising from the black. It looks strange and thin, with long stringy hairs hanging from what must be its head. In the final photo, you see a flash of white teeth as the thing lunges for the camera.

“Motherfucker, Gramps,” you whisper.

You return to the house to find that the crew has started installing the new windows, and go around to the deserted back porch to look through the rest of the developed film. The next pack of photos consists of images of your grandfather standing beside something big and hairy, then holding up what looks like a baby sea monster.

“Hello, up there!”

You nearly spill the photos and jump up. Looking over the edge of the porch, you see Ciaran below. “Oh, hi again,” you wave to him.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he chuckles. “I mean...” He looks at his bare arm. “I’m not far off, so I apologize if I spooked you.”

You stuff the photos back into the bag. “No, it’s okay.”

“I was just wandering around and heard all the commotion.” He looks off at the workers hauling off the old windows.

You remember that Ciaran said he knew your grandfather, so maybe he knows something about these pictures. “Can you come up?” you ask him.

“I don’t know, can I?” He laughs lamely at his own joke. “Never mind. Yeah.”

You stand in a place where the construction crew can see you, but can’t hear your conversation. Standing next to Ciaran for the first time, you finally get the measure of how tall he really is. “I found some film under my grandfather’s bed...” you begin.

“No nudes, I hope.”

You smile. “That’s what I said! But… no, no nudes.” You show him the picture of your grandfather holding the baby sea monster. “There are tons of photos with my grandfather near things that look like monsters.”

Ciaran looks over the picture and scratches his chin. “He was always doing weird things like this.”

You frown up at him. “Like what?”

Ciaran looks at the crew. “Can I talk to you later? Being around people makes me nervous.” He hands you the picture. “I’ll come by when it’s quieter.”

You place the photo back into the packet. “The tide will be in then.”

“That’s fine. I prefer the water.” He heads to the steps before turning back and looking at you. “It’s nothing bad, by the way.”

Once it starts to get dark out, the construction crew packs up and leaves for the day. You sit out on the porch, still going through photographs. You hear splashing again, and you look over the railing to see something coming up from the water. Long black hair floats to the surface. Then you see ears, and then a horse rises from the depths.

You gasp, and the horse looks up. “Hello there.”

You just stand there, jaw slack and eyes wide.

The horse steps from the water, thin and gangly. Its rib cage is showing, and its legs look skeletal. It shakes off, and its long black mane and tail drape like veils. It vanishes under the porch, and you race to the other side, but when you get to the stairs you see Ciaran making his way up.

He pushes his wet hair out of his face and smiles. “I feel like I keep scaring you.”

You just stare at him. “The horse...” you whisper.

“See, that’s part of what I need to explain.” He stands at the foot of the stairs and smiles shyly. “I’m a kelpie.”

You furrow your brow. “A kelpie?”

Ciaran nods. “Your grandfather saved my mom, you see. He helped her give birth to me.” He rubs the back of his head. “He did that for lots of us.”

“Who is ‘us’?”

“Monsters. Your grandfather was a cryptozoologist.” He smiles shyly at you. “Mind if I come up?”

You let him up, and he tells you the full story. Your grandfather had been all over the world hunting monsters, and then his interest turned to protecting them. Your grandfather had to keep it secret, or it could have wound up hurting his family, but Ciaran knows all about your grandfather’s exploits. “He kept all those photographs as proof.” He takes out the picture of the black silhouette with teeth. “Wow. Guess there was a picture of my dad.”

You look at Ciaran in confusion, still letting everything sink in. “Your dad?”

“The asshole, as my mother called him,” he sighs. “My mom is human, but my dad...” He frowns at the picture. “My mom told me she had loved him, but he got scary and possessive, so she had to run.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ciaran chuckles. “I never met the bastard. Thanks to your grandfather, we were able to stay safe.” He looks out over the lake. “He let me stay in the lake, and he helped my mom build a new life here. She married my stepmom when I was young, so I always had a pretty good family.” He shuffles through the pictures again and shows you one of a strange serpent-like creature hanging from the trees. “That’s my stepmom. She’s really nice. Makes good bread.”

“Ah.” You lean back and hold your head in your hands.

“I know it must be a lot,” Ciaran sighs. “He really never said anything?”

“Our family just assumed he was a gambler,” you grumble. “Not… Indiana Jones with monsters!” You sit up and look him dead in the eye. “My brother has a place that’s a few towns over. Do you know Hearthway Hollow?”

“Sure. I know he had a hunting cabin down that way.” Ciaran glances up into the night sky. “It’s getting late.”

“I can’t sleep.” You stand up from your seat. “I’m going to make coffee. Want any?”

“Sure, sounds nice.” Ciaran stands and follows you into the kitchen. He looks around at the remodeling you’re having done while you set up the coffee pot.

“You don’t have to stay. You look tired,” you sigh.

“Oh, that’s just my face.” He picks up a framed photo of you, your brother, and your grandfather on a roller coaster, taken during the summer he surprised you both with a vacation. “It’s funny, I never even knew he had grandkids. I just knew he had family somewhere.”

You scoop ground coffee into the filter. “What was he like around you?”

“Funny,” Ciaran says. “Goofy. He was never too serious except when he had to be.”

You sigh with relief. “Good!”

He looks up, setting the picture down on the table. “Good?”

“I was worried for a second,” you sniffle. “That he was faking things around us.”

Ciaran comes up to the counter and leans over it to smile at you. “He used to tell me jokes, and helped me learn to like the other side of myself.”

“He used to watch cheesy chick flicks with me, because no one else would. I grew up in a house with only guys - him, my dad, my brother. So he took the time to make sure I didn’t feel left out.” You wipe your eyes and smile. “I miss that.”

“I like chick flicks,” Ciaran says.

Days go by, and the house is remodeled. Ciaran becomes a constant fixture, coming often to share stories about your grandfather, and listening to your stories as well. You’ve begun to really like him, and your time with him is satisfying. Gradually, the remodeling project comes to its resolution.

One afternoon, as you’re coming home with more packets of developed photos, you see Ciaran in his kelpie form, standing on the shore. You set the bag of film on the stairs, then walk up to him. “What’s this?” you ask with a smile.

“Let me take you out into the lake,” Ciaran says.

You shake your head. “Oh, I see!”

His ears stand on end. “See what?”

You wag your finger. “I read up on what kelpies do. You’re gonna drag me to my death as soon as I get on your back.”

Ciaran whinnies. “No! I would never! I’m half kelpie, remember? Only half!”

You giggle and grin. “You had to realize I’d have to look up kelpies.”

“But I’m really not going to...” He whickers and trots up to you. “This was supposed to be romantic, not murderous.”

You stop laughing. “Romantic?”

Ciaran’s ears twitch. “Yeah. Like a date.”

“I was only teasing. I never would have thought you would...” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Really? A date?”

Ciaran tilts his head to the side and flicks his long tail. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah of course,” you say hesitantly. “But...” You purse your lips as you try to word what you want to say.

“What’s the matter?” Ciaran dips his head, his long mane falling down in his face.

You reach up, brushing his hair aside. “The idea of going into the water like that makes me a little...” You look down as you pull your hand back.

A pair of hands take hold of yours and Ciaran’s human form smiles warmly at you when you look up. “We don’t have to go into the water. I guess after reading up on kelpies, it would make you a bit nervous.”

“It’s not that exactly,” you say with a soft smile. “But thank you. I can make us something for dinner, though.”

Ciaran’s smile brightens. “That sounds good, too!”

You invite him up, and he sits at the counter while you cook. He looks sleepy, but he keeps his focus on you, watching you work and telling you bad jokes. You feel bad for not going along with his date idea, but right now, while the relationship is fresh, you want to stick to things you know before you dive in further with Ciaran.

“All ready!” you announce when you finish plating the meal. “Nothing special, I’m not a fancy cook or anything.”

“Looks good to me.” Ciaran smiles at you. “Thanks for the treat.”

You sit beside him at the counter. “If you want to call pasta a treat.”

He dips down, kissing your temple. “For me it is.”

Your cheeks grow red, and you smile goofily down at your plate. After dinner, you watch movies together. You start out on opposite ends of the sofa, but move closer and closer until you’re curled up against Ciaran with your legs in his lap. Midway through the movie, Ciaran falls asleep, resting his cheek on your head. You leave him there, tucking him in with a cozy blanket before you go to bed.

In the morning, you wake up to find Ciaran still asleep on the sofa, his gangly legs draped over the side. His arms are skimbo with one hanging above his head. He sleeps peacefully though, with his long hair splayed out all over the pillow. You walk over to him, taking in how pretty he is. He may be as long and spindly as Ichabod Crane, but there’s something charming in that. His lashes flutter, and he sighs, rubs his eyes and looks up at you. “Where am I?”

“You fell asleep last night, so I just let you be. Coffee?”

Ciaran stretches and yawns, joints popping all over. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I was having a good time.” He rubs his eyes again as he sits up.

You smile shyly. “It’s okay, really.”

Ciaran pouts. “I had plans, though. I wanted to kiss you goodnight and stuff.” He rubs the back of his head, smoothing out his hair.

Your cheeks grow warm. “You could kiss me good morning.”

Ciaran’s pale cheeks redden “What about morning breath?”

“It’s up to you,” you chuckle.

Ciaran laughs in reply and holds his hand out to you. “May I?”

You dip down, closing your eyes. Ciaran’s fingers brush along your jaw as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s almost too brief, but he comes back, more eager. He sighs dreamily, pulling away as you open your eyes. “I must still be dreaming,” he whispers.

“I’ll go make coffee,” you giggle.

You have a few more dates with Ciaran, taking things easy. You enjoy staying in, so you’re often at your place, watching movies and hanging out. Bit by bit, you open up more. Ciaran enjoys being near you, he loves being touched and hugged. One night, you never even watch the movie, you just make out until the film ends.

“I should go,” Ciaran pants, pushing his hair back.

You’re pinned under his body, locking him in your arms. “If you have to.”

“I don’t have to, I just…” He kisses you again. “I don’t want to fall asleep on you again, or stay awake all night.”

Your face burns at the insinuation. “You can stay the night. Have a sleepover.”

He smiles. “I want to, believe me. But I know you want to take things slow, and I want to behave like a good boy.”

You giggle. “We can just sleep. It doesn’t have to lead to anything.”

Ciaran kisses you again. “You’re very right. It would be nice to wake up and cuddle in the morning.”

You chase after his kiss, but he gives you a small peck. Then he rises, helping you up. “I’ll get a shower,” you tell him. “You can go ahead and tuck in for the night.”

“Sounds good. Do you have a hair tie I could borrow for my hair? It’s easier to sleep in a braid than wake up and deal with a bird’s nest on my head.”

Ciaran follows you to the bedroom, where you point to a pile of hair ties on your dresser. You gather your pajamas and take your shower, and when you come back, Ciaran is lying in bed on his back, eyes closed. You admire him as you crawl into bed and lie down, turning so you can see him. You smile as you close your eyes. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Ciaran says sleepily.

In the morning, you’re pressed against Ciaran’s chest with your feet tucked between his thighs for warmth. He’s holding your hands to his chest while he dozes, and you smile, enjoying being the big spoon. You sniff his hair and kiss the back of his neck softly.

“Careful,” he whispers.

“Does it tickle?”

Ciaran turns his head to look at you. “In too good a way. Did you sleep well?”

You nod and snuggle against him. “Did you?”

“Too well.”

You kiss his neck again, and when he moans you feel emboldened. You kiss him harder, opening your lips and dragging them along his skin. Ciaran sighs, clutching your hand tighter. “Careful,” he whispers again.

“Ciaran,” you breathe into his ear.

He turns and looks back at you seriously. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “Only if you are too.”

Ciaran sits up, moving on top of you and running his eyes over your face and down your body. “If we do this,” he breathes, “will you go swimming with me afterwards?”

You stroke your hands up his bare chest. “Of course.”

He takes a deep breath and smiles. Then he dips down, kissing you softly, moving his lips along your jaw. He runs his hands under your shirt, pushing it up until your breasts spill out for him. He stares at you, eyes becoming lidded as his breath shudders. You bite your lip and shrug up your shoulders. “They’re a bit saggy.”

Ciaran cups a breast, pushing it up and squeezing it. “Not when I hold them.” He cups the other in his hands. He kisses between them, moaning against your skin.

You whimper softly, pulse picking up as his hands make you tingle.

“Mine aren’t big at all,” Ciaran teases. “I know I’m all bone.”

You open your eyes and sit up, pressing kisses to his chest, his pronounced ribs. “You’re still very pretty,” you murmur. “Your skin is very soft.”

You kiss down his concave stomach, and his hand slips under your chin. “I should warn you about something before we go further. I want to, and I think you want to as well, but my anatomy below the belt...”

“What’s the matter?”

Ciaran frowns and looks away. “It’s just that I… Being part kelpie��� This is so mortifying to say out loud.”

You look down at his lap, then back up at his face. “Is it shaped differently?”

“You could say that,” he clears his throat. “I just don’t want to scare you with it. It’s not something I want to come across as bragging, but it’s kind of… big.”

“Oh, a horse cock?”

Ciaran’s face burns, and he covers it with his hands. “Don’t say it like that!”

“I’m sorry! Um…” You think for a moment. “Can I see it, then? If it’s too much, there’s still lots we can do together.”

Ciaran exhales slowly. “Are you sure?”

“Lie down,” you say lovingly.

Ciaran lies on his back, wiggling out of his pants and underwear, and looks away shyly as you kneel beside him. His cock rests against his thigh, quite large but still soft. It’s mottled black and pink, and the head is flattened and tilted. There are ridges along the bottom and a flared circle near the base. It’s certainly big even in its flaccid state You kiss his hip, moving so you straddle his thigh. Then you slowly rub your palm along his shaft, and Ciaran whimpers softly.

“It’s okay. Nothing to be afraid of.” You can feel him getting harder as you stroke. “It’s actually kind of pretty.”

Ciaran chuckles nervously. “You think?” He looks up at you.

“I do.” You take him in both hands as he begins to rise. “You’re getting really warm. Does that feel good?”

“It’s...” He moans. “I like you touching me.”

You dip down, licking his shaft gently. He moans louder, jaw hanging open. He certainly is getting longer, but his thickness doesn’t change. You kiss his glans, licking around the flat head.

“Come here,” Ciaran pants and waves his hand to you. “Sit on me.”

“What?” you sputter.

“It’s only fair,” he says with a soft smile. “Put your legs above my head.”

You feel burning hot all over. “I don’t want to suffocate you.”

“I can breathe underwater, so it doesn’t bother me.” he chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. Come on. It’s only fair.”

Slowly you place yourself over him, and he rubs his hands up your legs, easing you down onto his face. He kisses your thighs, and then your vulva. You breathe shakily and dip down, kissing his cock. You lick along his shaft as his tongue pushes between your labia. You gasp, and he moans. You drag your lips down the side of his shaft, and he uses his fingers to pry you open. You’re growing delirious with each touch, and you try to keep up with him. You take his glans into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as he eases his fingers inside you. You feel his thighs begin to tremble. You stroke him faster, feeling his pulse race through the shaft. His kisses and touches became more intense, and you feel his moans, his ragged breathing. His fingers squeeze tightly around your thighs, and you buck your hips, rubbing against his face. He moans more deeply, and then both of you erupt.

Your eyes are blurry as you lick his semen from your cheeks, swallowing it. You move slow, falling off him and lying at his side, your cheek against his thigh. Ciaran chuckles giddily and helps you to sit up. He kisses you, laying you back down on the bed and nuzzling between your breasts. “That was...” you whisper. “Oh, wow.”

“Thank you.” Ciaran kisses your cheek. “I was worried, but you made me feel so safe.”

“You have nothing to be worried about. I was happy to...” You giggle again. “It was fun. Thank you.”

“After breakfast, I can’t wait to take you swimming,” he breathes. “I can’t wait to show you my world.”

[faroreswinds]

Japanese anon. I will be back home after tomorrow, but I have time to say a few remarks:

There is more backlash on places like twitter, 2ch (garbage place, do not touch it), and famitsu where fans of musou hopes are accusing haters of the game to be fujoshi, dream fans, and having bad taste. Fans of original three houses hit back by saying their accusers are edelgard fans (which to my lack of surprise is true). There are now lines being drawn where edelgard fans are defending the game from its critics, and it is getting ugly, especially since pro musou fans are now directly attacking by supporting shez against byleth, and it has made many people very angry. I am surprised yet not surprised to see that people who like the story are taking very sexist approaches to their critics (one person said, “you’re only mad because a rotten girl hater is the writer and you only care for your ships (cp abbreviation) instead of a good story” which started a big argument in the comment thread)

Pro hopes has been working hard on the defensive though especially because edelgard lost again in the heroes tournament votes. Lol. I can’t say that doesn’t make me happy. People are ready to burn her now for the favoritism she got in hopes and the favoritism she keeps getting in feh. A friend of mine who hates her with a passion closed the voting round with a team of summer houses units and she said “beres and rhea send their regards” and we had a laugh. Someone is circulating a meme of edelgart as thanos in the scene where she and he get their heads cut off.

To renisfan, yes, it’s awful. The younger generation i know is appalled with the message. Everyone says “someone from nippon kaigi was a writing consultant” or “abe’s ghost wrote this” . A people worry that this is sending an impression of japan becoming more conservative to foreign fans. And that the reputation of fire emblem has been tarnished.

I hope your trip is going very well, anon.

I am surprised yet not surprised to see that people who like the story are taking very sexist approaches to their critics (one person said, “you’re only mad because a rotten girl hater is the writer and you only care for your ships (cp abbreviation) instead of a good story” which started a big argument in the comment thread)

Sounds like a lot of what I have seen in English discourse too. "You're just mad because [insert something ridiculous here]"

Pro hopes has been working hard on the defensive though especially because edelgard lost again in the heroes tournament votes. Lol. I can’t say that doesn’t make me happy. People are ready to burn her now for the favoritism she got in hopes and the favoritism she keeps getting in feh. A friend of mine who hates her with a passion closed the voting round with a team of summer houses units and she said “beres and rhea send their regards” and we had a laugh. Someone is circulating a meme of edelgart as thanos in the scene where she and he get their heads cut off.

I woke up this morning to see that Edelgard had lost yet again and had a laugh myself. Water is wet. Edelgard loses a VG.

But maaaaannnn, some of those means are really something else, huh? I did have a peek on the feh reddit page and r/edelgard and there is some major salt. Some people are coping with "she's just too popular, and the largest army always loses". I think they forgot that Rhea actually had the largest army against Edelgard and she won her round just fine.

To renisfan, yes, it’s awful. The younger generation i know is appalled with the message. Everyone says “someone from nippon kaigi was a writing consultant” or “abe’s ghost wrote this” . A people worry that this is sending an impression of japan becoming more conservative to foreign fans. And that the reputation of fire emblem has been tarnished.

@renisfan

abe’s ghost wrote this

Oooooofffff, that's a rough one right there. I feel bad for the man cause.... I don't like anyone being killed like that, but this is also kinda funny, ngl.

A people worry that this is sending an impression of japan becoming more conservative to foreign fans.

I can confirm that yes.... there are some who think this. Unfortunately. Sorry, Japanese fans, but I have seen this sentiment around....

And that the reputation of fire emblem has been tarnished.

I don't think it's too far gone yet. Most fans think Houses is a step up from Fates, and that the musou is just a spin off and nothing to worry about.

There is some sentiment here and there but most feel that the next FE could be even better. Or at least, that is what I have seen.