#weather was cold but sun was out it was fantastic

[ghosts-of-love]

another day another walk !! :)

[fastandcarlos]

“Hey Stranger!” : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: with your conflicting schedules, match day always clashes with race day. it means it’s been a while since you’ve seen max, until you pull a few strings 🥺

pairing: max x footballer!reader

face claim: lucy bronze

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 2,493,162 others

maxverstappen1: another brilliant race here in japan, the fans are always incredible 🇯🇵 see you all next week at silverstone 🏎️

328,075 comments

username1: such an incredible race max, super job 👏🏻

ynusername: you were incredible, even if I did have to wake up at 3am to watch 😂💞

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername you didn’t have to do that sweetheart 🥺

username2: the end photo omg 😭

redbullracing: we were never in doubt in the garage, fantastic race max ❤️💙

schecoperez: at least this week you managed to make it to debrief before giving yn a call 👏🏻

username3: idk how you and yn do it on the opposite sides of the world together

landonorris: why does that last photo look like something out of a cheesy romcom??

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris it’s better to have a long distance gf than no gf at all 😂

username4: shame yn couldn’t be here to support you, I’m sure she’s so proud of you though ❤️

username5: idk how you and yn do it with all the events you miss out on for each other!

charles_leclerc: such a dedicated boyfriend!!

username6: and you absolutely know he’d be rushing back to check yn’s game after the media too 😭

carlossainz55: that last photo is one way to ruin your cold exterior image verstappen 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by leahwilliamsonn, aitanabonmati and 428,028 others

ynusername: finishing the first half of the season with another W on the board, looking forward to a week off before kicking on to make sure we’re lifting that trophy at the end of the season ⚽️❤️💙

78,371 comments

username7: enjoy your week off yn…you’ve so earned it 🥺

landonorris: man utd would be a much better team to play for btw… 🙃

username8: i wonder what your plans are for your week off 🤔

maxverstappen1: you’ve been amazing so far, so proud of you 🫶🏻

username9: pls say this means we now get some yn and max content again…

alexiaputellas: our squad is so much greater for having you in it ❤️💙

username10: could not be more confident that barcelona are winning the title again this year 🏆

leahwilliamsonn: don’t forget all your friends back in england over the break 😉

username11: stay safe, we need you if we’re in with a shout of winning the league 🙏🏻

ellieroebuck_: shout out to my personal tour guide for the next seven days 😘

ynusername: @/ellieroebuck_ 🫡🫡🫡

username12: not yn and max spending their evenings cooking on ft together!!

keirawalsh: can’t wait to spend the next couple of days annoying you 😂

ynusername: @/keirawalsh I wouldn’t have it any other way!

username13: I just love how dedicated the two of them are to spending time together 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by mbrighty04, schecoperez and 572,038 others

ynusername: nothing like the spanish sunshine to help with a bit of rest and recovery ☀️

78,492 comments

username14: ngl my heart broke a little to see no max around 💔

schecoperez: max has not stopped moaning about how bitter he is that you’ve got the week off!

ynusername: @/schecoperez he gets three whole weeks off in a bit it’s not fair 😂

username15: glad to see a smile on your face girl 🥺

landonorris: it’s alright for some 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris jealousy was never a good look on you norris

username16: wondering who it was that took these photos???

maryearps: damn that spanish sun looks like it’s been treating you well 😍

username17: what I would give to live in spain and enjoy that weather on my doorstep

maxverstappen1: looks like you’re doing plenty of hard work 😬

username18: why do I get the feeling max is not impressed 😭

ona.battle: it’s been three days and I already miss you 🫶🏻

username19: poor max wishing he was there

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liked by maxfan101, lestappenoursaviour and 2,593 others

f1gossip: eagle eyed fans managed to pap the moment yn yln managed to surprise max verstappen at silverstone this weekend. one fan told us yn came up behind max, tapped his shoulder and simply said “hey stranger,” before leaping into his arms…talk about romantic 🥺

482 comments

username20: I can’t believe some of you actually thought yn wouldn’t bother with max wtf

username21: “hey stranger” sounds like a line from a movie 😭

username22: my two favourite people reunited!!!

username23: poor max who thought yn was actually enjoying her summer without him 😂

username24: all these years and they’re still surprising each other 🥺

username25: no one can convince me that these two aren’t the cutest couple on the grid

username26: keep refreshing social media in the hope that someone recorded this moment…

username27: look at that smile in the first photo omg ❤️

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liked by ynusername, landonorris and 3,955,089 others

maxverstappen1: my lucky charm here to see me through and get me to the top of that podium this weekend ☺️ best surprise ever 💞

787,392 comments

ynusername: wouldn’t have missed it for the world, so so proud of you 🫶🏻

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername you really are the best ❤️

username28: I’m so happy yn got to finally be there to see you get a race win 🥺

landonorris: I only let you win cause I knew your girlfriend was watching 😂

username29: not max calling yn his lucky charm, my heart 😭

redbullracing: congratulations on yet another p1 max 👏🏻

username30: such a good race, congratulations max!!

keirawalsh: I’ll forgive you for stealing my girl seeing as you got the win 😂

username31: bet there’s going to be some incredible celebrations tonight 🥳

username32: I can’t with how proud yn looks of him either…

oscarpiastri: reckon you could at least leave the paddock before throwing yn over your shoulder 🤔

username33: I’ve been waiting to see a post like this for so long 🥺

danielricciardo: forget the win, I was just happy to see yn again after so long!!

ynusername: @/danielricciardo secretly I only actually came to silverstone for you 😘

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 482,028 others

ynusername: reminding ourselves how nice it is to cook and eat dinner in the same room again 🥺❤️

68,392 comments

username34: I never want you two to be separated again 😭

landonorris: you’re not allowed to keep him forever btw - he needs to come back to us!

username35: I’m still not over the fact they’re finally reunited

username36: look at the smile on yn’s face, that’s definitely the max effect!

danielricciardo: I’m just glad that it was you cooking and not max 😂

ynusername: @/danielricciardo I’ve been with him long enough to know better than that 😂

username37: the holding hands ☺️☺️☺️

lewishamilton: remind me to block you two when summer break comes around so I don’t have to deal with your sickly sweet posts 😝

username38: now I remember why this is my favourite duo in the world

maxverstappen1: the best couple of days with you 💕💕

username39: a relationship like this in the future pls 🥺

charles_leclerc: do you guys ever plan on not being adorable???

username40: forever my two favourite people ❤️

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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´��˗

[drewswife]

how sorority!reader and frat!rafe met

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawn of Gamma sorority house. Laughter and the splashing of soapy water filled the air as the sisters put the finishing touches on their charity bikini car wash. It was their biggest fundraising event of the semester, all to go towards much-needed renovations for their beloved, slightly worn house. Excitement buzzed through the group, fueled by sugary sodas and the thrill of seeing their hard work pay off.

You, ever the enthusiastic and slightly mischievous member, had been particularly energetic, playfully spraying your sisters with the hose between scrubbing bumpers. You’d even convinced your friend, Chloe, known for her artistic flair, to create a hilariously exaggerated sign featuring a cartoon car practically begging for a wash. The Instagram posts leading up to the event had been your brainchild too, filled with sunny selfies and promises of sparkling clean cars for a mere five dollars. The response had been fantastic, a steady stream of vehicles lining up throughout the day.

Now, as the last sudsy car gleamed under the sunlight, a collective sigh of happy exhaustion swept through the group. You leaned against your bucket, a contented smile on your face, your red solo cup filled with ice-cold lemonade resting beside you. Your own outfit, a vibrant blue bikini top paired with denim booty shorts, felt comfortable and practical in the warm weather.

Just as you were about to suggest ordering a celebratory pizza, a rumble echoed down the street. You looked up to see a massive, lifted pickup truck turning into your driveway. It was shiny and black, looking like it had just rolled off the dealership lot. Inside, you could make out several figures. As the truck slowly rolled to a stop, you noticed there were six guys crammed into the cab.

Your eyes widened slightly as the driver’s side window lowered, revealing a blond guy with a noticeable, well-defined bicep flexing as he rested his arm on the door. He had a wide, goofy grin that crinkled the corners of his blue eyes. There was a playful glint in them that made you raise an eyebrow.

“Hey gorgeous, we came to get a car wash,” he called out, his voice carrying a confident, teasing tone.

You pushed yourself off the bucket, a sarcastic smile playing on your lips. You sauntered towards the truck, your red solo cup in hand, your movements radiating a casual confidence. You pointed to the brightly colored sign prominently displayed near the entrance of the driveway.

“Noooo,” you drawled playfully, emphasizing the word, “you drove through the driveway where a sign very clearly says ‘bikini car wash, five bucks.’” You punctuated your statement with a theatrical sigh, pretending to be utterly put out by their apparent lack of observation.

The blond guy erupted in a loud laugh, a genuine, booming sound that made a couple of your sorority sisters giggle. He leaned further out the window, still grinning, and held up a twenty-dollar bill. “Ur funny, I like it,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Keep the change, sweetheart.”

A flicker of something annoyance crossed your face, though you quickly masked it with a playful roll of your eyes. You reached for the twenty, your fingers brushing his briefly.

“Oh, I’ll keep the change, alright,” you said, your voice laced with mock sweetness. “For the house, of course. So, which one of your… uh… magnificent vehicles would you like us to work our magic on first?” You gestured towards the truck with a sweeping motion of your hand.

The guy chuckled again. “This beast right here,” he said, patting the side of the truck affectionately. “She needs a good scrubbin’.”

As your sisters gathered around the imposing truck, armed with sponges and soapy water, the blond guy hopped out. He was taller than you’d initially thought, with broad shoulders and a relaxed, easygoing demeanor. He introduced himself as Rafe. The other guys piled out of the truck as well, a boisterous group who seemed just as amused by the whole situation as Rafe was.

While your sisters started on the truck, Rafe leaned against the hood, watching with an amused expression. He kept his eyes on you as you directed the operation, a natural leader among your friends. He’d occasionally throw out a teasing comment, always ending it with that infuriatingly charming “sweetheart.”

“You’re quite the bossy one, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he’d say with a smirk as you instructed Chloe on the best way to get the mud off the tires.

“Someone has to keep things running smoothly,” you’d retort, deliberately ignoring the endearment. “Unlike some people who just show up and expect a sparkling clean truck for a measly five bucks.”

“Hey, we paid twenty!” one of his friends called out defensively, earning a playful shove from Rafe.

As the car wash progressed, you found yourself stealing glances at Rafe. There was something undeniably magnetic about his easy confidence and that persistent, slightly annoying grin. He seemed genuinely entertained by your banter, and despite your feigned irritation at being called “sweetheart,” you couldn’t deny a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips whenever he said it.

As they were about to leave, Rafe turned to you, his blue eyes holding a hint of something more than just amusement. “Thanks for the wash, sweetheart,” he said, the word rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

You met his gaze, a playful challenge in your own eyes. “Maybe you will,” you replied, a hint of a smile finally breaking through your mock annoyance. “Just try not to track too much mud next time.”

He laughed, that booming sound you were starting to finding not entirely unpleasant. He winked, hopped back into his truck, and with a final wave.

more

taglist

tags,@spencerreid66 @mysticbby2009 @zenithsturniolo @starrii-sturns

a/n: does anyone know that one pic of Drew hanging out the car window Imagine that

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Edward Cullen (2/8)

WC: 2.5k

R was scanning the almost entirely abandoned parking lot, except for the familiar Cullen car. Although Edward had not been in class that morning for the decently important lab portion - much to R’s chagrin - Edward had sent her a text requesting if they could work after school, as he had a doctor’s appointment that morning. As the lab report was rather critical and due in two days, R had to agree.

However, standing in the parking lot as the sun vanished beyond the horizon, she felt chills. It felt almost surreal to be at a place so full of life not even a few hours prior that was now desolate and dark. R couldn’t help but wish that some club activity or some sport event was happening in the evening to spare her the shivers that rolled down her back. Wednesday was far too random of a day for a club, though, so her prayers went unanswered.

R was a paranoid soul and brought pepper spray in the case point of isolation like this. Although her and Edward had a good report, she never knew with the manipulative and creepy men these days, nor any other strangers who lurk around campus after dark.

She entered the STEM building. The Led lights that illuminated the hall were either flickering lowly or were turned off, emanating just enough light to survey the environment. Once she reached the end of the hall, she glanced into the lab. Edward was already there, but he turned back and immediately spotted her peering. He must have had some unparalleled senses, as R has been quiet as a mouse. She sent a smile and entered.

For some reason, Edward had turned on a scarce amount of lamps rather than the overhead light. It felt easier on the eyes, but allowed shadows to dance. She set her stuff down. Despite the cold temperature of the room, Edward’s warm smile didn’t allow her to notice. R set her keys down and pulled out her laptop and notebook. 

“Hello,” he greeted.

“Hello.” R set up her station. “Did you already start from where I left off?”

“Of course. I felt… guilty for leaving you to do the brunt of the work in the morning. I arrived ahead of time to make sure you did not have much to do other than assist with writing the lab report.”

R couldn’t help but smile. She felt grateful that the lab report would only take the average amount of hellish time rather than extra due to Edward’s absence. “Thank you. You didn’t have to, though. I understand that it was from health concerns.”

“You could say that…” he muttered. “It’s more so a familial precaution from my…condition.”

R perked up and wanted to pry further, but as Edward’s gaze shifted back to the completed project and the shared google document, she sensed that it was not something to question. She almost felt bad for the flash judgement she made from their first interaction two weeks ago.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t attractive and well-mannered.

R shook the thought away as Edward sent her a glance and a smile. It made her paranoid that she was showing her feelings on her face, and as she read over his notebook, she began assisting with the lab report. 

The atmosphere was quiet, yet the tenseness seemed to slide down her back. It was strange - despite her mental fortitude against most men, there was something about Edward that made those precautions dissipate physically.

Occasionally, they became caught in small talk, although small talk has now evolved from talk about the weather to more personal topics of delicious meals, travels, friendly gossip. It was strange to think that the mystical and distant Edward Cullen was so chatty on an individual level, but R suspected it was due to her friends’ and the schools’ romanticism and demonization of him and his family. 

“I think we’re almost done,” R drawled, a yawn escaping her lips. Time was flying by, anti was starting to affect her senses. The endless typing of computers, rechecking notes, and editing was too much - although the professor was fantastic, she felt it was still a heavy workload for two people. 

R reached down and took a sip of water from her custom blue bird shaped water bottle with a purse strap - her emotional support water bottle that reflected her interest of bird watching specifically. She’d be damned to be found hiking or traveling for pleasure if not for relaxation or bird watching. 

However, she had grown so lost in thought, she did not notice when she lay her head down on her notepad and began snoozing. Although worked was only slightly above average and something she was used to, her strict schedule had been thwarted by Edward’s absence, and her body was crying for a nap.

Edward sensed it almost immediately from her groggy thoughts and body language, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. He quieted he quieted yet quickened his typing, and it was hardly a few minutes later that the report was completed. He pulled his hoodie off and draped it over the woman, setting the scene. Gently, he shook her shoulders.

“R,” he mumbled. “Would you like me to take you home?”

R’s senses came rumbling back to her, but she still had to fight off the sleep. Her doe eyes fluttered at Edward softly, hardly registering the man in front of her.

“What… what time is it?”

“Only a few minutes have passed, although it’s 12:14.”

Her eyes shot open and she sat up. “Oh why god it is so past my bedtime! Sorry - let me finish up the report —“

“I already have. There was not much left to do. Let me drive you home and I can pick you up in the morning to spare you the gas,” Edward insisted politely.

R gulped and groggily blinked. “I…” She had a policy to let nobody but her gal friends to know her address. But in a town like this, it seemed perfectly reasonable to break her steadfast rule once. “Well - alright… I live [address]. I can direct you.”

“I know where that is,” Edward replied, packing up his stuff. “It’s closer to my home than it is to Forks.”

“Oh!” R exclaimed, some of the sleep being overwhelmed with curiosity. “I did not realize…”

She felt the hoodie on her back and she faced away in a flush as she packs dup her things. It was a kind gesture that gave her butterflies. She could feel his intense gaze boring into her as she packed up.

Edward was behind her and offered her a hand. She reluctantly accepted, realizing even if her mind was alert, her body was not. She stumbled a bit, both of her feet dead asleep and consumed with tingles.

Edward took her bag and keys as well, despite R’s half-hearted complaints.

“Here’s your…”

“Keep it. The temperature has dropped more since you arrived.”

“But you don’t have anything else -“

“The hoodie is mostly for show,” Edward insisted. “I’m not affected by this sort of weather.”

R gulped and layered the rest of her clothing, reluctantly, y sliding the hoodie over her. This somehow felt more intimate than that sloppy first kiss in middle school or holding hands under the lunch table. R tried not to think too deeply about it, but considering R was rather stunted in the romance department, she could not help but overthink the notion. R suddenly felt rather insecure about the fact that she was essentially a porn star but without the integration of any personally romantic relationships in her life whatsoever - while Edward seemed so handsome and mature that he almost glittered, and surely he had his choice of women, hence his avoidance of immature college-age girls his age.

Edward courteously wrapped an arm around R’s shoulders while carrying all items. R instinctually spaced out, feeling the sleep mix with the anxiety. She had her eyes shut for prolonged periods on the walk to his car. R cast but a glaze toward her’s before hopping into the passenger seat.

There was a mixture of delicate, delicious, yet almost nonexistent body odors. R immediately slumped onto the window on the drive home to the gentle murmuring of the engine and dainty radio signal.

Her body hardly noticed when she felt the familiar gravel parking spot. She was barely lucid as Edward unlocked the door and invited himself in afterward, helping her right to bed. It felt so… intimate. Yet something deep down was screaming that this was not a good thing to allow.

R slept seamlessly throughout the night, except for the minute shivers that she felt from sudden cold drafts. Routinely, at 4a.m., her eyes shot open. She was still so sleepy, but she could have sworn to have seen a silhouette of Edward sitting on the edge of her bed, watching. Yet her body did not alert enough to think more on it until the morning.

R shot up too the sound of her alarm at 7a.m.. A peek of sunlight escaped through the curtains and the smell of the morning dew escaped through the cracks of her windows. She could hardly recall the details of last night, and it took wandering downstairs to find a finished and printed report as well as his hoodie on the counter. She made herself a pot of coffee and noticed that the door was locked and her car was not in the lot.

So all of that had happened - but surely he had left after, R wondered, or had that vision of him next to my bed been real? It could have been, but it seemed to have happened so late in the night that it would have been classified creepy.

R heard her cell phone vibrate on the counter. She expected Edward’s number, but it was Jessica.

“Hey,” R rasped tiredly.

“Hey, girl - did you just wake up? I swear, I’m here for volleyball practice and your car is in the lot but I’m not find you anywhere. Want to grab some Starbucks before class?”

R blinked. “Oh, uh, about that. I was staying late with Edward for a lab report and he drove me home since I was dead tired.”

“Holy shit, actually, girl?” Jessica fawned. “You are so lucky! I could only dream for Edward to do something like that for me. Are you two… a thing? You guys would be so cute together —“

“No, no,” R insisted. “As you gals know, I am strictly no boys. Education and friends first and only. He is a sweet guy, but I am sure he is just being courteous.”

“No way, girl. But I guess no Starbucks, huh? Do you need me to bring you to school?”

“Thanks, but I think I will be fine. Edward promised to pick me up in the morning.”

“He is so into you!”

“Yes, yes, but even so, it does not matter. I would hardly jeopardize a grade because of a man.”

“Whatever you say. I will see you at lunch.”

“Good bye!”

R hung up and prepared her cute bento lunch. R was bad at eating consistently, so she ingrained into her daily ritual to make a cute aesthetic lunch ate she could not forget about. Today it was more fruity, and with some tooth picks, made a banana caterpillar in a “natural habitat” salad. She grabbed a delicious energy bar in addition, although that was not for herself.

As she was about to call Edward - about half an hour before classes started - she heard some gravel crunch outside. Her heart jumped a beat and all nuances of her vision being real left her mind. Why would he leave after staying the night to watch her sleep? Although R did not think too hard about how he locked the front door after leaving. 

R dashed outside. Despite R assuming the rest of his siblings would be there, it was a new car and it was empty. R scowled at how downcast it had become since waking up. The sun was now hidden behind a thick layer of dark clouds.

Se waved politely and hopped into the vehicle.

Edward was listening to a bluetooth station that R could certainly get behind, a concoction filled with several of her favorite artists. 

“Did you sleep well?” Edward inquired.

“Yes. And you? I am sorry that I wasted a lot of your night from you, um, taking care of me,” R muttered, suddenly feeling shy. “How long did you stay?”

“Only a few minutes,” Edward insisted.

“It’s strange how tired I must have been,” R mused. “I swear I woke up in the middle of the night and you were just by my bed. Must have been a dream.”

“You might say that you were dreaming of me,” Edward, almost flirtatiously, replied. “I am glad to have made an impact on your unconscious while taking you home.”

R flushed rather noticeably, and although Edward glanced, he showed no signs of thinking about it. They pulled into the lot well on time, and R’s friends who were still in the parking lot used to R’s connection to Edward to their advantage. Not necessarily for any reason other than to satiate curiosity, though. She was dragged to her Martine biology class with Angela while Jessica used her “wing man” capabilities to walk Edward to class (although R could tell from a distance how tense the man was from the unwanted encounter).

Her day passed without many hitches, and her weekend was the same.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Dear Agony

BuckTommyWhumpWeek, Day 5: Hypothermia (A03 version)

This one is Tommy whump for you connoisseurs out there... ;)

Thick drops pelted the roof of the small, cozy cabin high up in the mountains, dripping onto the icicles on the eaves.

“It’s thawing.”

Tommy stepped closer to the window, resting his chin on Buck's shoulder. “That's too bad. I'm sorry.”

Buck turned his head. “Why? Wasn’t you who made the weather,” he said with a smile.

“Well, that's actually beyond my capabilities.” Tommy grinned and added, “However, I did persuade you to make this trip with me. After all, we wanted to go hiking, and the forecast never mentioned a change in the weather.”

Buck snuggled up to him, muttering, “Oh, I’m sure we'll find something to pass the time.”

“Probably,” Tommy whispered close to his ear, “but unfortunately our vacation is very short.” He glanced out the window again. “There's a spot with a fantastic view up the San Antonio peak... in spring, the blueberry bushes blossom, giving off a very special scent. In summer, you’re surrounded by the berries. It’s a paradise. There aren’t any berries now, of course, but it’s still very romantic with the snow and all.”

“Oh? How do you know all that? How many times have you been up here?”

“Hmm,” Tommy muttered with relish. Buck pulled him away from the window with a laugh.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

An hour later, the rain had stopped. The landscape, however, was filled with the sounds of crackling and dripping: harbingers of the thaw that the change of weather had brought. Buck and Tommy had opted for a short hike anyway. After all, this was a rare occasion – when did they have the chance for three days of vacation in a row, at the same time?

It was still chilling, with the wind biting through their thick layers of clothing. Buck had been living in the city for so long that he was no longer used to this kind of weather. He enjoyed it, though: as they walked, he happily puffed his breath out into the cold air, savoring the snow while it lasted. Three days in the wilderness, in a tiny cabin with Tommy, love in front of the fireplace like in a cheesy rom-com, and a walk while they warmed each other's fingers – it couldn't get any better.

At least until Buck spotted the viewpoint Tommy was talking about. The blueberry bushes  were, of course, bare and heavy with snow, but between them, a narrow path opened up to a small clearing. The sky seemed close enough to touch, the low-hanging clouds were pure cotton candy. The surrounding peaks of the San Gabriel Mountains were still patched in white. It seemed hard to imagine that they’d be driving back down tomorrow into pre-summer L.A. Buck wasn’t ready for it yet.

They spent the rest of the day hiking one of the many adventure trails around the mountains. The sun was shining again; after a particularly steep descent, its rays glistening on a patch of ice were a welcome sight. 

“A small lake,” said Buck, enthralled by the view.

“There shouldn't be a lake there,” Tommy returned, frowning as he spread out the map in his hands.

“Are we lost?”

“Not really... let's compare the geodata.”

But the virtual map showed the same thing – definitely not a lake. Buck, looking over Tommy's shoulder, tapped on the phone, suggesting, “Turn on the topography map.”

That helped: the spot in front of them, where the path normally led, was in a hollow; a small descent that wasn't even noticeable when there was plenty of snow. Now, however, there was a sheet of ice because rain had gathered in the hollow and the snow that usually covered it had melted.

“Well, tough luck for us,” said Tommy, glancing at his watch. “We'll lose some time, but we'll have to go around it, I guess.”

“Wait, it's not a particularly large patch of ice. Maybe it'll hold us.” Buck was already testing the frozen surface with the heel of his boot. 

“Evan. It's thawing, it'll never hold us.”

Buck turned around, grinning and already with both feet on the ice. His left leg slipped. For a moment, his arms flailed in the air, then he caught himself. He looks like Bambi, Tommy thought, almost amused.

“Don’t,” he warned him nonetheless. “The cabin is still more than an hour away. If you fall in, you'll get some nasty frostbite. It may be thawing, but it's still freezing cold.”

“I'm sure it'll hold.”

“We’ve no signal out here,” Tommy tried to reason. “How am I supposed to call for help if you break through the ice?”

“You won’t need to.” Buck grinned, stepping forward cautiously. “Look, four steps. It's holding.”

Tommy shook his head, but he knew there was no stopping this man. When Buck set his mind to something, he found a way — and while he was risk-taking, he wasn't reckless. He knew the dangers, and he probably even knew all the statistics about frozen surfaces, their supposed thickness and the like. Tommy watched as Buck cautiously took another step. 

“Solid ground. Like I said, only four steps.”

“Not everyone has legs as long as yours,” Tommy replied skeptically, but nevertheless he put a foot on the ice. Cautiously, he moved on.

“You'd better move a little to the right. It's safe where I walked,” Buck said, gesturing.

“If I cross at exactly the same spot, it'll be too much weight.”

“No, statistically speaking, that's the thickest part of the ice,” Buck disagreed. “The closer you get to the edge, the thinner the ice...”

He broke off as there was a loud noise. It sounded almost like stepping on a branch in the forest, only much higher and more threatening. Tommy looked down in amazement. Fragile, narrow cracks had formed around the soles of his boots. Then, the ice broke.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

As if standing on a trapdoor that had suddenly opened, he plunged into the freezing water up to his chest. Quick-thinking, he stretched out his arms, which crashed painfully onto the remaining ice, yet his hands found no hold. 

“Tommy,” Buck shouted, taking a step back onto the ice, but Tommy yelled, “Stay where you are!”

Buck stood rooted to the spot and looked down in disbelief at the surface he had just crossed so easily. Cracks had formed all over the ice, a threatening pattern of fragility. The water pulled Tommy down, his wet jeans sticking to his legs. He pressed his forearms firmly against the remaining ice around him, his muscles tense to the point of tearing. 

“It's not deep,” he said; the calm in his voice was meant more for Buck than an expression of his state of mind. “This isn't a real lake. I can...”

At that moment, the ice supporting his arms broke. The force pulled Tommy down a little further, and for a terrifying moment he thought he was drowning. Water splashed into his face, knocking the breath out of him; it penetrated every fiber of his clothing. Buck threw himself face down on the ice and started to crawl towards Tommy. The ice cracked ominously.

“Stay there,” Tommy implored him, gasping for air. “I'll make it out, don’t worry. Don’t fall in as well!”

“No way, I'm pulling you out!”

“No,” Tommy shouted sternly. “Go back. The ice is about to break, can't you see?”

He nodded in Buck's direction. And sure enough, the cracks in the surface grew larger, still spreading. Small, razor-sharp shards flew through the air as the entire ice collapsed and broke into dozens of pieces. Tommy took a deep breath—ice-cold air that hurt his lungs—and pushed off awkwardly. His wet clothes pulled him down, but his iron will and all the weightlifting paid off: he managed to swim forward, through the chunks of ice.

It was only a short distance, but it felt endless, as if the eerily cold water simply refused to part and let the man, this strange foreign object, pass through. Buck had retreated when the rest of the ice broke, but now he waded in, and as soon as Tommy was close enough, he grabbed him.

“I got you. I got you,” he stuttered. His wide-open eyes revealed that, contrary to all experience, contrary to all knowledge, he had almost panicked. Because it was about Tommy. The adrenaline felt different when you suddenly found yourself on the other side of the accident.

Finally, both of them stumbled into the snow. It was wet and slippery, but right now, that didn’t matter. Tommy lay on his back and stared at the sky, panting as if he had just run a short-distance race. Suddenly, there were Buck's blue eyes instead of the sky, an even more beautiful sight, and very welcome at that moment.

“You okay? Are you hurt?”

“No. No, I don't think so,” Tommy replied slowly as he thought about it. As his heart rate slowed down, he realized he was wet and clammy, and his body instinctively reacted – he started shivering. 

“We need to get back,” Buck urged. “As fast as we can.”

“I’ll manage.” Tommy took a deep breath and pushed himself off the ground, a little surprised at how easy it was. 

Buck peeled off his puffer jacket, wrapping it around Tommy's shoulders. “We need to get you out of those clothes, and fast. But not here.”

“I'm fine.”

“This was a stupid idea,” said Buck, biting his lip. 

“Can’t disagree on that… let’s just go,” Tommy replied with chattering teeth.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

Buck should’ve known that Tommy’s I’m fine was obviously window dressing. Something was clearly, seriously wrong, but he couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. They were walking for like ten minutes, and Tommy couldn’t stop shivering; as uncomfortable as he must have felt, that was probably normal. What wasn’t quite so normal was him acting somewhat nervous, almost agitated. Normally, he was the one who kept a cool head; as a pilot, he couldn't afford to do otherwise. Now, he was picking at his trembling fingers, if he wasn’t running them through his hair or kept wiping them on his jeans as if he was trying to dry something, anything. Maybe it was just that he didn’t know what to do with his hands – a feeling Buck could certainly understand, but he’d never seen Tommy act like this. Finally, he walked with his arms wrapped around himself, though there was nothing to keep him warm right now. Even the jacket Buck had wrapped around him was already soaked through.

The landscape, which had seemed so picturesque just a few minutes ago, suddenly felt hostile. Though it wasn’t as cold as yesterday, when it had been gently snowing on their arrival at the cabin, but the wind was still biting under Buck’s sweater, and stinging on Tommy’s wet skin. 

 “There's really no reason to call 911,” Tommy said when Buck held up the phone for the third time, searching for a signal.

“This is definitely a reason to call for help,” Buck objected. “We still have a long way to go, and you need to warm up. You're probably hypothermic.”

“When we get back, we'll take the car and drive down to the hospital, okay? If it's that important to you.”

Buck looked at Tommy skeptically. He knew the man didn’t like hospitals all that much, and he couldn’t blame him, but this was ridiculous. Tommy kept hopping up and down in a futile attempt to warm himself, but it was pointless in his wet clothes. Buck didn't know much about hypothermia—in L.A., you probably had to get locked in a cold storage room to suffer from it—but he knew enough to realize they’d better hurry.

“I'm sorry about our trip,” Tommy added. His smile showed genuine regret. 

That stung, almost like the cold wind. Buck bit his lip. “I-it’s my fault. I shouldn't have talked you into stepping on the ice.” 

“Hey, at least you gave me your jacket.” Tommy’s grin was crooked. He was breathing heavily—surely that wasn't just because he couldn't stand still for a minute.

“Wait a minute,” Buck held him back. Despite the thick jacket, Tommy’s arm was ice cold, which made him feel queasy. “I think you're hyperventilating.”

“Your jacket is so warm.” Tommy shrugged, then tugged at the garment, clumsily trying to slip out of the sleeves. 

Startled, Buck held his arm tightly. “Hey. Leave it,” he implored his boyfriend, but Tommy shook him off, saying, “You need it more than I do, don't you think? I'm not cold anymore.”

Tommy held out the jacket to him. Buck was indeed cold—he felt as if there was an icicle stuck in his stomach. 

“Please put that back on,” he said, fumbling for his phone again. There was still no signal, and they were nowhere near the cabin. 

“Hm?” Tommy went. He looked down at himself, then at the sky; for a moment, he seemed utterly confused. Then, he just plopped down onto the snow.

“What are you doing?” Buck grabbed Tommy's shoulders. They felt strangely stiff, and the icicle inside his guts only seemed to grow larger. “You need to get up. We have to keep going. Come on, I'll help you.”

Everything about Tommy now seemed rigid; it was as if Buck was trying to move a rock, downright terrifying. His thoughts were spinning. You’re a first responder, you know what to do, he told himself. But his inner voice didn't sound as encouraging as he would have liked, because it just wasn’t that easy. He knew they needed help as soon as possible, warmth, an ambulance, oxygen—everything that wasn't available right now, but that wasn't the problem. 

Buck was used to stressful situations, but right now, fear was almost paralyzing him, and he couldn’t understand it. He was a maker, functioning under pressure, finding solutions, but… Suddenly, he realized that he felt like a relative. Like someone who was getting in the way of rescue because they cared too much for the patient. Buck certainly had feared for his loved ones before, but never like this, and it sent him into shock. The only one who could free him from it was himself, and fast – for Tommy. 

“Listen,” he said, kneeling beside Tommy and putting his jacket back around the man’s  shoulders; he had to hold it in place because he kept trying to pull it off. “We're both used to saving people. But sometimes we need help too, okay? That’s fine.”

“Hm?” Tommy looked at him with a unsteady gaze. “Evan?”

“Yes, exactly. Listen, Tommy, I’ll tell you what we're going to do.”

Buck pulled Tommy up. He had given up resisting, but probably not because he understood the seriousness of his situation. Buck feared that, on the contrary, he’d already reached a dangerous stage of hypothermia. Tommy’s breathing was shallow, his eyes glassy—how was he going to get the man to the cabin? One thing at a time. Buck grabbed Tommy around the waist, pulling him along. Tommy stumbled forward, and Buck supported him. It would take forever, but he could do it. He had to. 

Once, long ago, somewhere between construction worker and bartender, Buck had briefly pushed wheelchairs in a hospital and walked people who had spent a long time in bed. Tommy hadn't forgotten how to walk, but he seemed unwilling to do so. No—rather, it seemed as if everything about him had frozen, as if the ice-cold water and air had slowed him down. He moved almost in slow motion, and Buck, who regularly checked Tommy's pulse, realized that it felt the same. Whatever that meant, he had to banish those thoughts from his mind for as long as possible.

Buck kept checking his phone—nothing, still. He caught himself starting to babble, as he often did when he was nervous. Tommy had always been the only one to never interrupt him, to listen patiently to sometimes endless ramblings. But he also always had the means to interrupt Buck from letting his thoughts spiral out of control. Right now, he couldn’t do that. Tommy’s apathy was so uncharacteristic that Buck felt panic rising.

“We're almost there,” he muttered, more to himself than to Tommy, “we’re gonna make it. Keep going, yes, like that. I'll get you back, and then you'll be warm again, I promise.”

Tommy didn't answer; he hadn't responded for minutes. Whatever had spurred him on, it suddenly seemed gone. Slumping against Buck’s grip, he collapsed. 

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

Much later, Buck would wonder why all his panic had vanished at that moment, making room for an almost eerie calm. Even though the situation had only gotten worse, he was functioning again; the firefighter gene seemed too deeply ingrained in him.

He let Tommy slide into the snow, felt his pulse—still slow and arrhythmic, as far as he could tell—and lifted one of his eyelids. The pupil was extremely dilated, and he had no idea what that meant. It wasn't good, anyway. Buck tapped Tommy gently on the cheeks. “Hey, come on. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

Tommy didn't respond. Against his better jugdment, Buck pulled out his phone once more, but they still weren’t close enough. No signal. He cursed under his breath, checking his watch. Somewhere behind those snow-covered trees to the north was the cabin. If he’d calculated it correctly, it was perhaps another three-quarters of an hour to get there. In about thirty minutes, his phone might be able to connect to the nearest cell tower. Looking down at Tommy, Buck realized he needed to get him out of the snow, and fast, and there only seemed to be one option left. He took a deep breath, as if he could inhale determination, and watched his breath steam in the cold air as he exhaled. Then, he slid his arms under Tommy’s shoulders, crouched down and pulled him halfway up before finally hoisting his boyfriend onto his shoulder. With a grunt, he stood up, steadying his precious cargo. 

“Just a bag of cement,” he said aloud as he stepped forward slowly, trying to keep his balance. Tommy was heavy, but it was all a matter of the right mindset. “Did I ever tell you that I used to work on construction sites? They always liked to get the young guys when there was something heavy to carry. Of course, there were rules, like using hand trucks or a harness, stuff like that, but they only enforced them when the owners or architects were on site. Otherwise, everything had to be done quickly, so we just threw the bags over our shoulders. Got me a hell of a lot of muscles after a couple of weeks...”

Tommy was wet and clammy and heavy, and he was anything but a sack of cement, but right now, Buck couldn't think about that. He couldn't think about his shallow breathing, his pale face, his bluish skin, or his irregular pulse. Buck thought only of each step he took, because each step brought Tommy closer to safety.

He walked on almost mechanically, one foot in front of the other, balancing the weight on his shoulders. With one hand he clutched Tommy's body, with the other he checked his cell phone again and again.

“Do you know the story of Leslie Allen?” Buck knew he was talking to himself. But if that was what kept him going, if that was what kept Tommy alive... “He was an Australian stretcher bearer at the Battle of Tambu during World War II. Two American colleagues had been killed while trying to retrieve their wounded. But Leslie Allen went onto the battlefield as if the bullets couldn't touch him; he picked them up one by one and carried them to safety. Twelve men."

The trees in front of Buck thinned out. He squinted. Was that... was that the roof of the cabin back there? He quickened his pace.

“I figured,” he said, holding the phone up, “if he carried twelve men one after the other, I can take on one stubborn guy. You certainly owe me a shoulder massage afterwards, Tommy, right? Because I... shit!” 

He almost dropped the phone: two bars, finally. Not much, but it would do. Buck frantically pressed the emergency button.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

As the path widened, Buck could now actually see the roof of the cabin. Just a few more minutes and he’d be there, the car was right around the corner, they’d be fine, right?

“911, what's your emergency?”

Buck had never been so happy to hear a voice. In a staccato tone, he gave their location and an update on Tommy's condition; it all came out almost automatically as his mind was preoccupied with getting closer to the car. He could already see the chrome of Tommy's truck bumper glinting in the sun. 

“All right, sir, stay calm, help is on the way.” The guy in dispatch gave his spiel, his voice calm and authoritative. “Get your partner into the warmth, somewhere dry. If possible, remove his wet clothing and wrap him in blankets. But no hot water bottles, and please don't try to warm him up by rubbing his skin.”

Buck trudged grimly through the snow. “Don't worry,” he replied, “I know that much, I'm a firefighter.”

“You're a firefighter?”

“Evan Buckley, LAFD, Station 118.”

“Oh,” said the other man. From the sympathetic tone of his voice, Buck could almost hear what he was thinking. The station that lost its captain. Word got around among first responders, and they weren't far from L.A., after all. But Buck had no time for sympathy right now, nor did he want to relive the grief that had been a part of him for months. Bobby was dead, there was no changing that, but he would save Tommy. He had to. 

“Listen, how long until backup arrives?” he asked. 

“The nearest department is twenty minutes from your location,” said the dispatcher. “In the off-season, the roads are usually empty, so maybe fifteen.”

“That's too much, can’t wait for them,” Buck replied. “I'll drive out to meet the ambulance.”

“Sir...”

To his credit, the man on the other end didn't try to talk Buck out of it; he was probably consulting with his superiors. In any case, Buck had no intention of waiting that long. Tommy's car wasn't locked; after all, the whole point of this trip had been to spend a few days in seclusion – this wasn’t exactly a tourist spot, and a snow goat was hardly likely to break into the vehicle.

Buck wedged the phone between his teeth and hoisted Tommy into the back seat. Perhaps the most sensible thing to do would have been to take him to the cabin, strip him of his wet clothes, and wrap him in blankets, but Buck had that… feeling that made all his nerves tingle. Everything inside of him screamed that he couldn't waste any more time. Yes, Tommy was robust, an athletic and healthy man. But he was so pale, his skin was almost translucent now, and his lips and fingers had taken on a concerning blue color. Buck suppressed the urge to squeeze those fingers. He felt around Tommy's clammy pockets – of course he had the car keys with him, the man was always prepared. Maybe it was just a reflex, but right now Buck was pretty grateful for it, just like he was for the car, because it had park heating. He quickly reached between the front seats to turn it on.

“All right, sir,” dispatch reported, causing Buck to quickly reach for his phone again, “take the road south of Barrett Canyon until it meets Mt. Baldy Road. It's just a short mile. Wait there for the fire department, okay?”

Buck mechanically checked Tommy's pulse. “Alright, fine,“ he replied. “I... damn it.”

”Sir?“

”I-I can't feel a pulse."

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

The dispatcher said something, maybe he was explaining what to do. Buck didn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. He knew what to do, and now, he was just functioning. He tossed his phone onto the front seat. Half squeezed into the footwell of the truck, his knees in the melting snow, Buck crossed his hands, pressing them down on Tommy's chest.

“You’re-not-doing-this,” he panted as his hands performed a mechanical, well-practiced rhythm. „You won’t leave me, you’re perfectly healthy man… just a little wet and cold, nothing that can't be fixed. Besides, the fire department will be here shortly. Are you listening to me? If I break one of your ribs, it'll be your own fault, you hear me?"

A drop fell on Tommy's cold, motionless face. Great, now it's starting to rain again, Buck thought, until he realized they were in the car. Defiantly, he frantically wiped his eyes, then held two fingers against Tommy's neck. Still nothing. He pressed down on his chest again, counting in his head.

Aloud, he said, “A fresh start. That's what you said, wasn't it? No more of this on-off relationship, no more rom-com misunderstandings. This time, it's for real. Maybe forever. Okay, you didn't say that, but I thought it, Tommy. I thought it. And I wanted to tell you. Maybe not after this weekend, but...”

He paused and pressed his mouth to Tommy's blue lips, suppressing the thought that they were cold as a corpse's. He blew air into Tommy's lungs twice, or at least he hoped it got there. Hope was all he had left now, wasn't it? It was so damn unfair. Buck didn't know if what he was feeling was actually anger or sheer desperation, but whatever it was, it drove the rhythm his hands were drumming on Tommy's chest. 

“It was just a little ice. The water wasn't even deep, it wasn't a lake, you said yourself there's no lake, just topography. A glitch in the matrix. But you don't die from that, you hear me? I won't let you. I don't want this to–”

There. Was that a movement, or just his imagination? A twitch, perhaps, or just something you see out of the corner of your eye, like a blink? Buck pressed his fingers against Tommy's throat. In the desperate need of a miracle, he held his breath.

Thump. - Pause - Thump.

Buck counted. After a minute, he exhaled as if emerging from the depths. Less than 60 beats, too few, but at least something.

“That's it,” he gasped. “Keep breathing, you hear me? We have to...”

“Sir?”

Buck had completely forgotten about the phone. He quickly fumbled around on the front seat, grabbed it, and yelled, “I have a pulse again! When will the ambulance be here?”

“They’re two min–”

The phone slipped out of Buck's cold, wet hands: Tommy's eyelids fluttered.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

“Tommy,” he whispered. His phone fell under the back seat, but it didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now but this: a little flutter, a soft twitch. Life. Buck gently and carefully took Tommy's face between his hands, providing just a little bit of body heat. “Hang in there a little longer, okay? I'm sure they'll be here any minute. He said the road should be clear. It's a piece of cake, they...”

Tommy slowly opened his eyes. His pupils were still large, his gaze unfocused. 

“Cold,” he muttered as his eyelids snapped shut once more.

“I know,” said Buck, his voice taking on a soothing tone.

The unnatural warmth of the park heating made the air in the car stuffy, but at least it wasn't quite so cold anymore, even though the door was still open. Nevertheless, he pulled his sweater over his head, placing it somewhat awkwardly over Tommy's chest like an oversized band-aid made out of love. 

“You'll be fine, okay? You'll warm up again, I promise. Breathe easy. That's good, like that. Just stay with me.” 

His fingers gently stroked Tommy's cheeks, as if he could bring color back to them with just his touch and his will. Tommy muttered something unintelligible.

“Shh,” Buck said, surprised to find that he wasn't stuttering, hadn’t been in a while, actually. “Just lie still. I won't go anywhere.”

It was pointless to meet the first responders on the street now, and above all, Buck would have had to let go of Tommy. The thought of getting behind the wheel and not being able to keep an eye on his breathing was terrifying. If it were up to Buck, he would sit here forever, holding Tommy's hand and watching his chest rise and fall. What a feeling. How strange to feel happy when the situation was dire.

“... either,” Tommy muttered. 

Buck brushed a few wet strands of hair from his pilot’s forehead; then, following an impulse, he leaned forward and kissed the damp, incredibly cold skin. He wondered if Tommy even felt it, quickly dismissing the thought. They’d be safe soon. 

“Sure,” he said in the kind of tone they used with patients; it didn't matter if they understood what you said, as long as someone was holding their hand. But Tommy frowned, cranking his eyes open with effort. 

“No,” he whispered. “Listen.”

Sirens could now be heard in the distance, and Buck couldn't imagine a more beautiful sound. Or a more beautiful sight than Tommy, the corners of whose mouth turned upward. It was a crooked, almost ethereal smile, but it was beautiful. The smile of a man who wasn't quite himself, but who had an important, urgent message he needed to get across. And after that, Buck knew, even before the words were spoken, everything would be fine. This time for real. 

“’M not leaving either. Never again.”

[eyesthatroll]

fucking allergies | jack hughes

pairing; jh86 x fem!reader

warnings(s); cursing, not much else idk

word count; 0.52k

author's note; does anyone else get the worst allergies when the weather goes from hot to cold + when daylight savings time happens?? shoutout to my pharmacist who couldn't sell me anymore claritin because i reached my limit for the month! nice! all jokes aside, this is very much self inserted, and short, but alas, i hope you enjoy, lol. also!! i'm going to the red wings/devils game on the 22nd, will i see anyone there?? love ya! -mari

The sun, seeping through the gaps in the blinds, nudges you awake on what should be a splendid day at the lake house. That is, it would be splendid if not for the persistent struggle to breathe through your nose and the annoyance of itchy eyes and a scratchy throat. Despite the season being in its early throes, your allergies have already unapologetically launched an assault on your well-being.

Gazing to your left, Jack is sprawled on his back, emitting soft snores that the harsh sunlight fails to disturb. Extending your arm to the bedside table, you open the drawer in a quest for your Claritin. Your fingers finally clasp it, but a frown creases your brow as you shake the empty box. Fantastic, just what you needed. Audibly groaning, you hoist yourself out of bed, your bare feet padding against the cool embrace of the hardwood floor. Silence envelops the house, and as you descend the stairs, an empty kitchen and living room confirm that you're the first one to rise.

Navigating to the kitchen, your hands instinctively reach for the cupboards in a quest for the Claritin or Zyrtec you're certain must be lying around. Alas, your search yields nothing but frustration, prompting a string of curse words to escape your lips. "Fucking allergies..." Closing the last cupboard, you straighten up, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest at the sight of the tall boy standing before you. Clutching your chest, you exhale heavy breaths to steady yourself.

"You scared the shit out of me!" Your exclamation earns a laugh from Trevor, who shakes his head as he takes a seat on one of the barstools.

"Not surprising you didn't hear me with all that noise you were making."

You rub at your eyes, desperate to rid the persistent itchiness, and lean against the counter, confusion etched on your features. "I wasn't even loud, dumbfuck!"

He grins at your response, savoring the ease with which he can rile you up, even this early in the morning. Your boyfriend enters the kitchen, nonchalantly slapping Trevor on the shoulder before playfully flicking your cheek, stopping to ruffle your already messy bed head. "Too early, knock it off," he rasps, a touch of amusement present in his tone.

He ambles to the other side of the kitchen, reaching up to the far back of the small cabinet above the stove. Your eyes widen as you spot a familiar blue and white box in his palm. Hastily crossing over to him, you snatch the box from his grasp with both hands. "I love you, I love you so much." He grins at your words, and leans down for a kiss, but precisely at that moment, your head throws forward with a wet sneeze, causing him to step backward, his fingers reaching up to feel your snotty residue against his cheek in disbelief.

Your palm slaps against your lips, your mouth falling agape as you register what just happened. Trevor, still seated at the counter, bursts into a bellyaching laugh that reverberates through the entire house.

"Gross!" Jack cringes, just as you profusely apologize, "I am so sorry!"

[lupinsversion]

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 𝐏𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐆𝐮𝐭𝐬

• summary: when reader and sirius are meant to be carving pumpkins, they find themselves a bit distracted

• contains: sirius black x fem reader, established relationship, flirting, pumpkin fight, hints at sexual context

• word count: 1.2k

masterlist || requests

The weather is chilly and crisp as Halloween creeps ever so closer. The sun is slowly setting below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the scene.

A small pile of pumpkins sits on the ground next to them, fresh from the farmer's market.

A small table has been set up outside, a few carving tools and a couple of old magazines spread out. Sirius stands beside her, a big, goofy grin on his face as he grabs ahold of a knife, ready to start carving the first pumpkin.

"So we have the knives, the pumpkin.” He lists off on his fingers, a playful gleam in his eyes, "Some old magazines for inspiration, oh and your wonderful presence. I’d say we've got everything we need for a fantastic carving session, wouldn't you agree?"

“Real cheeky.” She commented with a playful roll of her eyes as she scooped out the insides of her own pumpkin, the weird goop covering her fingers.

He chuckled heartily as he watched her scoop out the insides of the pumpkin, a mixture of amusement and disgust on his face. He couldn't help but admire her determination to get down and dirty in the gross, pulpy mess.

"I can't help it, love.” He replied with a cocky grin. "Just comes with my charming personality."

She took a small bit of the pumpkin’s guts and seeds and playfully threw it in his direction.

He let out a loud, surprised gasp at her playful act. He hadn't expected her to throw the pumpkin gunk at him, and it caught him completely off guard. A look of disbelief was evident on his face, mixed with a hint of amusement. "Did you just-" He sputtered, unable to finish his sentence from surprise.

“I did, and I would do it again.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before resuming the scraping of inside the pumpkin as if she were doing it this whole time.

He stared at her for a moment, shock still evident on his face. Hs couldn't believe she had the audacity to throw pumpkin guts at him. But then his expression shifted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Oh, that's it." He grabbed a handful of pumpkin guts off the table and threw it back at her with a playful laugh.

She let out a squeal before picking up a clump of her hair that was now covered. “Not the hair.” She whined.

He chuckled at her squeal, finding her reaction absolutely endearing. He tried to look sympathetic, but the hint of mischievousness was still present in his eyes. "Oh come on, it's just a little pumpkin guts."

He reached out and gently picked a clump of the pumpkin guts out of her hair. "I think it's an improvement, honestly. Really brings out your highlights."

She looked up from her hair to his face, her eyes narrowed in a cold glare.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the cold glare in her eyes. He loved seeing her riled up, even if it was just playfully. He took a step closer, the mischievous grin still present on his face. "Oh, don't look at me like that," he said, feigning innocence. "You started it."

“I didn’t get it in your hair.” She protested grumpily.

He just smirked, enjoying the way she pouted and protested. He loved seeing this grumpy, slightly bratty side of her. He took another step closer, closing the distance between the two of them. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his touch almost tender.

"Trust me, love, if you had gotten it in my hair, we'd be having a different kind of conversation right now," he teased.

She had to suppress the smirk that threatened to pull at her lips, he was walking straight into her trap and didn’t even know it. She pouted as he spoke as she sneakily lifted up her hand with a bit of the inside of the pumpkin between her fingers, slipping it in between his lips and onto his tongue.

He opened his mouth to respond, fully confident in his banter, when he suddenly felt the cold, slimy sensation of pumpkin guts slide onto his tongue.

A look of surprise mixed with disgust flashed across his face as he sputtered, the bitter, cold flavor of the pumpkin guts hitting his taste buds. He immediately pulled back, a mixture of shock and annoyance in his expression. "What the-" He grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "What was that for?"

“My hair!” She expressed dramatically.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her melodramatic display. He knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, and damn it, it was working.

He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to assess the damage. thankfully, not a lot of the pumpkin guts had gotten in his hair, but he was still slightly annoyed.

“Really? You’re gonna play the ‘my hair’ card?” He said, trying to sound frustrated, but failing to hide the hint of amusement in his voice.

She waved her pumpkin covered hair in his face. “Look at it!” She demanded playfully. “It’s all mushed together. Besides, pumpkin is edible, it’s not going to kill you.”

He grumbled, reluctantly admitting that she had a point. he couldn’t stay annoyed at her for too long, no matter how much he tried. He reached out and grabbed a handful of her pumpkin-filled hair, gently combing through it with his fingers to untangle it. “Fine, you got me.” He conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. “But next time, aim better.”

“I’ll aim for your nose next.” She smiled up at him innocently.

He chuckled at her innocent smile, finding her boldness endearing. He took a step closer, towering over her with a mischievous smirk. “If you get it in my nostrils, I’m pinning you against the wall.” He warned, a hint of challenge in his eyes.

She couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped her. He found her giggle adorable, and it only served to make his desire for her grow. He took another step closer, closing the distance between them even more.

He reached out and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. “Be careful, love,” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “I can only hold back for so long.”

He could feel his desire for her ignite, his need to have her and be close to her growing with every passing second. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin.

"You really do like pushing my buttons, don't you?" he whispered, his voice a low, hungry rumble.

“A little bit.” She confirmed in a whisper as she brushed her lips over his.

He felt a thrill run through his body as her lips brushed against his. He was completely captivated by her in this moment, his need to kiss her and explore her body overwhelming.

Without warning, he cupped her face in his hands and claimed her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. his tongue teased at the seam of her lips, seeking entry into her mouth.

© lupinsversion 2024

[makinguselessthings]

It's summer sewing time! I got my ish together and started knocking out some projects. I started off with this cute little bow tie vest by Gold and Skye patterns. I really want to wear this out and about, the weather has just been so stinking cold. As soon as the sun is shining this cutie will be styled!

My second project was reworking a weird sleeveless dress from a thrift bin. Loved the fabric and thought a skirt would be cute. Plus all I had to do was use parts of the Ballet Bow Skirt pattern from Matchy Matchy Sewing Club to create the little side bow accents. Other than struggling a little with the waist band (my original plan to use elastic from the original dress backfired) it was a really fast skirt to put. together. The original piece already had pockets too, so that was fantastic.

Loved how quick and fun these projects were. Excited to keep going! I am also starting to add baby sewing patterns to my list :)

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 24: To Know the Winter Darkness

Summary: Arthur's irritation with the gang's situation begins to take its toll on your relationship.

*A/N: Some of this dialogue is not mine, but pulled from the game.

*This fantastic image comes from @arthurs-btch

*Special thank you to @appalachiancowboy99 for being my sounding board.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter, but there are a handful of future chapters that were posted ahead of time

The cold air on your face stirs you from your restless slumber. A heavy silence lingers in the air, smothering you like a wet blanket as you lie sequestered away in the bunkhouse here in Colter. The only sound you can hear is the wind as it whistles through the gaps in the grimy, weather-beaten windows. The sides of the humble structure even shake a bit when a few particularly angry gusts of wind whip against the sides of the cabin. 

A groggy moan hisses out of your mouth as your eyes reluctantly crack open, immediately searching for the comfort of the fire in the corner. To your surprise, you are greeted by the beautiful sight of red and orange flames dancing vigorously along freshly replenished logs. Arthur must have gotten up and added more wood at some point. Your eyes slowly blink their way awake as a sleepy smile blossoms across your face, the first to do so in a long time. You roll over in search of him, but you are disappointed to find an empty half of the bed. Last night, Arthur had ridden out with Dutch in search of supplies or something, anything that may help the dire situation (that, or Dutch wanted to avoid the questioning looks of his people) and you were hoping to see him before you fell asleep. But no such luck.

While Arthur and Dutch were out looking for necessities, the rest of the gang made quick work to create a new camp here in the Grizzly Mountains. You had all worked well into the night setting up bedding, arranging supplies and sorting food, and still Arthur had not returned by the time you had drug yourself to your shared space to collapse upon your makeshift bed. Being a partner to a senior member of the gang comes with its privileges and having a room to yourself is one of them. Ms. Grimshaw put Arthur and you, Dutch and Molly, and Hosea together in one building and paired up the others accordingly. 

As the morning sun stretches its lazy fingers of light across the dusty floorboards, you bask in the peace and quiet of your and Arthur’s room. Casting your eyes about the space, it is simple and nothing luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s private. And you keep these stolen moments to yourself where you can to try to wrap your nerve-wracked brain around what’s happened since the catastrophic Blackwater job. You are still at a loss on how you all came to be here, how things could go so wrong, so fast. But what is most unsettling to you is that even those who are used to such turmoil are also distraught by it. 

But no time for such deep thoughts at the moment. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is Arthur. You want nothing more than to see him, to hear his raspy southern drawl and to put your arms around him and feel his embrace in return. It is like an addiction; you are restless and will not be able to calm yourself until you have what you need. And it is this desire that motivates you out from under the warm cocoon of blankets to get yourself dressed and groomed for the day.

It takes you about an hour to get yourself together before you open the door of the cabin, grimacing as you stumble outside, the biting cold smacking you in the face and the sun blinding you as it reflects off of the snow. Last night’s storm had settled by the early morning hours and draped everything in a thick blanket of white. Bracing yourself against the harsh wind, you rush over to the main building where the smoke plume of an internal fire floats into the brisk winter air. Your eyes dazedly watch it like a beacon as the white vapor dances and sways in a hypnotic motion, offering a sign of life in an otherwise desolate landscape. 

You push through the heavy door of the main cabin to find most of the gang already assembled, muttering and conversing in their own little social rings. Scanning over the faces, your eyes immediately seek out Arthur who is speaking with Dutch in the far corner. Relief washes over you like the floodwaters of a swollen river after a thunderstorm when you see that he is safe and sound. Just the sight of his handsome face sets you at ease as you head straight for him before you lose track of him once more.

Arthur notices you out of the corner of his eye, and when his gaze finds yours, a fragile smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. Noticing Arthur’s attention is now elsewhere, Dutch looks over his shoulder to see you heading their way. Thankfully, the man gives you a nod and a quick “G’Morning, Miss Y/L/N” before he excuses himself to leave you and Arthur to yourselves. 

Arthur takes in the heavenly sight of you as you glide over to him, leaning yourself into his body as your hands find a place along his ribs. The loving smile you offer him lets Arthur forget the problems facing the group even if just for a brief moment. He doesn’t say anything as he gazes into your adoring face. He looks beyond your ruby cheeks and worried eyes to see the love and devotion that is nestled there just for him. Arthur will often simply stare at you and smile to himself, appreciating everything about you and thanking God above for letting you into his life. For just this one fleeting, fragile moment, Arthur lets himself forget the trouble the gang is in, for you offer him that refuge, that safe haven. 

“Did you even come to bed last night?” Your voice floats to his ears with a playful chiding tone. 

“Sure did. But you were too busy snorin’ away,” he chuckles tapping your nose playfully. “I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“I wish you would’ve,” you pout. “I missed you.”

A sympathetic grin forms on his lips, those cobalt eyes sparking just right. “Thought I’d give you a moment’s peace while you can get it.”

But that thought is ironically short-lived.

“Miss Y/L/N, nice of you to join us.” Ms. Grimshaw’s harpy voice cuts into your brain from across the room. Your heart drops as you watch that spark of happiness on Arthur’s face transform into disappointment and annoyance. All he wanted was one goddamn moment with you. With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your gaze from Arthur to see the matron walking over to you. 

“Good morning, Ms. Grimshaw,” you sigh.

“While you were getting your beauty rest, I’ve been tending to things here.” Her arm waves behind her at the shivering group of sad souls. “We have a new arrival that you should probably look after.” She nods her head towards the corner and you follow her sight line to see the woman Arthur and Dutch had brought back last night. 

Your eyes settle on the fragile looking figure sitting wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire, staring blankly into the flames. 

“Oh my god”, you whisper under your breath as you quickly break away from Arthur’s presence to make your way over to her. 

Arthur sighs as he gives up your attention for another once more. But he marvels at how you float across the creaking wooden floorboards, hesitating before you slowly kneel down in front of the broken woman. His heart flutters a bit as he watches you introduce yourself to Mrs. Adler, placing your hand over hers in solidarity, a kind smile sitting upon your face to try to put her at ease. Arthur can’t make out what you are saying to her, but he gives silent thanks when her shoulders relax a bit and Mrs. Adler nods in acceptance of your help as the two of you disappear into another room, presumably for you to examine her for injuries. Your arm wraps around her, cradling her into your side as you walk. Pride swells in Arthur’s chest, knowing Mrs. Adler is in your good hands. 

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, someone comes into your life that changes everything. They raise the standards of living, make you laugh, make you see the world in a whole new light, helping you to notice things that you never did before. They make you feel like you again, that person who sometimes seems to get lost in the turmoil of life. From the moment he met you, the only thing Arthur has ever wanted in the universe is to be part of your world.

When Arthur fell in love with you, you became his weakness in a mind of unyielding hardness. When you fell in love with him, he became your strength at a time of unparalleled fragility. It is a powershift that Arthur still struggles with, trying to find his footing to understand it. You provide his foundation, his support, yet somehow leave him weightless and exposed at the same time. It was like magic the way you burst into his life, turning everything that he knew to be real upside down, making everything in life explode in beautiful, vivid color. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------

*This image comes from @rosesrdr2photos

By late afternoon, Abigail has become nervous, pacing frantically within the cabin and wringing her hands. John has yet to return to camp since before the snowstorm settled in and no one has seen him. 

Arthur lumbers into the cabin from outside, blowing his hot breath over the stiff joints in his hands, and heads over to the fire to get warm as he overhears the group talking about John. He keeps his head down and eyes diverted, though, wanting no part of whatever is brewing. 

“He’s strong and he’s smart,” encourages Tilly, trying to calm Abigail's frayed nerves. 

“Well, strong at least,” grumbles Abigail. But her head perks up when she notices Arthur has come in.

Arthur catches her out of the corner of his eye as she quickly approaches him where he stands at the fire, knowing full well what she’s about to ask. 

“Hello, Arthur. How are you?” she asks tentatively, looking at him with anxious eyes. 

He cocks an eyebrow at her, bracing himself for her yet unspoken question. “I’m fine, Abigail,” he says warily. “And you?”

“I…I need you to-”

Arthur rolls his eyes with an irritable sigh, his weight shifting uncomfortably from one hip to the other under her intense stare.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she rambles quickly, her hands still fidgeting. “I hate to ask, but…”

“It’s little John, gone and got himself into a scrape again.” The distemper is evident when the familiar scowl returns to Arthur’s face, his hands slowly clenching open and closed into fists, causing Abigail to recoil slightly, hesitant to plead her case. 

“He ain’t been seen in two days!” she cries, her tear-rimmed eyes looking imploringly up at Arthur.

“Your John will be fine. I mean, he may be dumb as rocks and dull as rusted iron, but that ain’t changing because he got caught in some snowstorm.”

“Arthur!” You shoot him a scolding look when you see how Abigail’s face wrinkles painfully at his answer. 

“At least go take a look,” pushes Hosea as he, too, joins the conversation. Always the level-headed one, he steps up to Abigail, quick to her defense. “Javier?”

The man looks to Hosea at the sound of his name being called, awaiting instructions. “Yes?”

“Will you ride out with Arthur and take a look for John? You’re the two best fit men we got. We’re all pretty worried.”

Javier nods and is quick to stand. He adjusts his coat, pulling his collar up to his cheeks. “I know if the situation were reversed, he’d look for me.” Resolution set upon his dark features, Javier grabs his gun and heads to the door, shooting Arthur a guilting look on his way out. 

With a lofty eye roll, an exasperated sigh puffs out of Arthur’s nose, his mouth set in a hard, angry line. And he slams out the door behind Javier before you can even say good luck. While you can understand his frustration, you know that Arthur is John’s best chance of survival if he is in any sort of trouble. And as time continues to crawl forward in this frigid wasteland, it is becoming more and more apparent that the situation is not looking good.

You quietly cross the room to Abigail, who hangs her head with worry. “Try not to fret about John, Abigail,” you say softly. “Arthur and Javier will find him. If anyone can, it’s them. You’ll see.” You rub your hand along her arm in comfort. But she can only offer you a weak smile in return. 

Outside, Javier and Arthur head out into the frigid, unforgiving white once again, this time in search of one of their own. As the winds kick up, they head further up the mountain, up where the air gets thinner and the snow deeper. 

As they trot along, Arthur takes this opportunity to privately ask Javier about Blackwater. He has to be careful not to sound like he’s questioning Dutch, but something just doesn’t sit right with Arthur, and the people who were there are acting cagey about it. But if Arthur is to intercept any problems heading their way, he needs to know what he’s up against. Like you had told him before, people in this gang tend to not worry too much about the swirling chaos they get themselves caught-up in as long as he’s the one taking the brunt of things. 

“So…you were there, Javier. What really happened on that boat?”

Javier shakes his head in disbelief. “We had the money and it seemed fine. And then suddenly, they were everywhere.”

“Bounty hunters?”

“No, Pinkertons. It was crazy. Raining bullets.” As the snow blows around them, Javier tells Arthur about how their group was swarmed, members were shot or lost, and that Dutch even killed a girl, an innocent bystander in the mayhem. 

“That ain’t like him, though,” murmurs Arthur as his eyes dart back and forth in shock. 

“I’m surprised we escaped at all. By the time you boys showed up on the other side of town, we were all just barely hanging on.”

Arthur digests all of this information, rolling it around in his mind. “Bad business alright.”

After an hour of trudging through the cold with no sign, they catch sight of tracks in the snow running along a deep crevice in the mountain. Encouraged by the first indication of activity, they follow along for several yards, but the two men eventually stumble upon a grizzly sight. They discover John’s horse lying on the frozen ground, its belly ripped apart. Upon closer inspection, they see tracks scattered all around in the bloody snow. 

Wolves. And quite a few of them, judging by the number of prints. It is a grim sight and Javier and Arthur share an uneasy glimpse between each other. 

Looking around, there is no sign of John. Everything around them is silent and ominous, with no indications of life. He could be anywhere. He could still be alive, but he could also be dead at this point. Arthur grabs his revolver from his side, aiming it straight up into the air and fires a single shot. He anxiously waits to see if John hears the discharge as it ricochets off of the rocky terrain, alerting him to their presence. Moments pass tensely and agonizingly slow, waiting for any response. 

And suddenly, they can hear hollering off in the distance. It’s John's voice. It’s faint, but he’s alive. Relief washes over both Javier and Arthur, as they try to figure out where he’s at. Sound bounces in every direction here and everything is coated in white, hiding any discernible landmarks. They have to be careful not to get lost, themselves. 

The men exchange calls, trying to follow John’s desperate, raspy voice, and walk down along the ridgeline until they get to a point that is too narrow and precarious for the horses. They dismount, leaving the animals behind, and proceed on foot in search of their brother. And thankfully, they spot him. 

John has himself sequestered onto a ledge, out of reach of the wolves that attacked and maimed him. He’s bloodied and shivering violently, barely conscious. Arthur and Javier make their way to the edge, careful not to slip and fall over the side. 

“Quite the scratch you got there,” Arthur teases as he looks down over John.

John gingerly tilts his head up, giving the men a good view of the deep and savage gashes across his face, cutting brutally into his eye. “Never thought I’d say this, but it’s good to see you, Arthur Morgan.” 

Arthur hops down to the ledge, crouching to eye level to take a moment to get a good look at John. “You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel so good, neither,” he replies dejectedly. 

A humorless chuckle huffs out of Arthur as he takes ahold of John’s arm, helping him to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s get you outta here.”

Javier reaches down, wrapping his cold yet nimble fingers under John’s arms to help pull him off the precarious ledge. It is quickly apparent that John is in no shape to walk, let alone climb down the mountain. Without a word, Arthur slings his brother across his strong shoulder and they begin to head back to the horses. They need to get John back to camp and straight to you as soon as possible for medical attention. He’s been out here in the elements for far too long and his injuries are profound. 

“I told Dutch you weren’t the right man for this job.” Arthur mocks as he adjusts John across his shoulder as if he’s hauling a deer carcass.

An exasperated sigh manages to escape John’s cut and bleeding lips. “I’m sure you did.”

The three men don’t make it very far before they spot a cluster of black and gray standing stark against the pristine white snow off in the distance.  Drawn by the noise and the scent of John’s blood on the wind, the wolves have returned to finish what they started. They sit perfectly still, silently eyeing up the men, ready to pounce at any moment. 

John lifts his head to look past Arthur at the impending threat before hanging back down despondently. They still have a bit of a walk to get back to the horses at this point and outrunning the pack is not an option. “Shit”, he mumbles and his whole body goes limp against Arthur’s broad back. John doesn’t have much fight left in him and what he does have, he needs to stay alive. 

Arthur slowly sets John down to his shaky feet, eyes never leaving the fierce pack of predators looming in the distance. “You head for the horses,” he tells Javier as he pulls his gun. “I’ll keep John’s friends off ya til you’re clear.”

Javier gives a sharp nod of understanding to Arthur as he slings John’s arm around his own shoulders and they begin to shuffle away towards their waiting mounts.

The moment Javier and John break off, the wolves lunge. The explosion of motion causes Arthur to immediately fire into the pack, taking down two of the large animals that head straight for Javier and John. Two more wolves go down in rapid fire shortly after that with painful howls echoing into the air, but it’s the last one that gets a little too close for comfort. The remaining animal comes barrelling towards Arthur, galloping at full speed, fangs bared and saliva oozing from its jowls. Arthur’s heartbeat thunders painfully in his ears as he takes aim once more, ignoring the slight tremble in his arms. The solitary wolf hurls itself at Arthur with a terrifying snarl, knocking him backwards into the snow. With a fierce yell of his own, Arthur’s gun rings true into the beast’s chest, dropping it dead atop his legs. 

As fast as a lightning strike, the vicious threat is over with, barely giving the three men time to comprehend whether or not they will all survive to make it back to camp.

Lying motionless and staring up into the icy blue sky with his eyes wide with adrenaline, Arthur tries to catch his breath as he lays in the snow, afraid to move lest the wolf still be alive. When the world stops spinning and settles back into reality, he draws the frigid air deep into his lungs, exhaling slowly out of his wind-chapped lips to steady his nerves before cautiously looking down, nudging the heap of fur with the tip of his gun. 

Arthur’s gaze drops to the sudden stinging sensation on his arm. A deep gash sits there from the wolf’s claws but it’s nothing that you can’t take care of. If he can just get his ass back to you in one piece, that is. If this is the extent of his injuries from this ordeal, he’ll make out pretty well. 

Shoving the carcass off himself with a pained grunt, Arthur rolls himself up and catches up to his companions just in time to help Javier get John situated on his horse behind him and the three of them head back down the mountain side. John slumps against his friend, silently thankful for the man’s body heat.

“Come on, John, you’ll be okay,” asserts Javier. “It’s just like a dog bite.”

“I knew a guy got bit by a dog...died an hour later,” mumbles John as he rests his forehead in between Javier’s shoulder blades.

“You ain’t gonna die,” huffs Arthur. “Not yet.” 

The horses begin to lumber their way back through the deep snow. Arthur and Javier push through the cold, trying to get back to Colter in one piece and not get lost in the tundra of the mountains. Javier is desperate to return John to Abigail and Arthur just wants to return back to you. And although they encounter more wolves along the way, fortunately this time it is not a full-on attack as before. Arthur makes quick work of the remaining pack, ensuring their safety for the remainder of the journey back to camp. 

Throughout the ride back, Javier is sure to keep talking to John, nervous as he feels his friend growing weaker by the minute, his body resting limply against him in the saddle. “You’re going to be okay, John,” Javier repeats again. “We have some shelter now.”

Despite his exhaustion, John’s mangled lips flash a grin. “Thanks for coming for me.”

“Sure. First the bullet in Blackwater, now this. You’ve had a hell of a time.” Javier nods in empathy for his good friend, thankful he’s found him alive as he’s lost enough companions in this baptism of fire. But from where he sits in his saddle behind them, Arthur carries an air of annoyance as he rides along in brooding silence on his horse. When will he be able to stop looking after ‘Little Johnny’?

“Arthur always says I’m lucky,” John manages a deflated chuckle out of his torn face as he looks behind him to catch Arthur’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Well, none of us are lucky right now,” Arthur retorts coldly. He shrugs his shoulders up around his chin when a particularly blustery gust of wind swirls through the air. “We’re going to need to come up with a better story for that scar.” 

If John weren’t half-dead, he’d spin on his brother in a heartbeat with fists raised. His teeth grit together despite the pain in his jaw. “So, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death ain’t good enough for you?!” John hurls what little energy he has left coursing through his fragile body in anger towards Arthur, his body shivering and trembling behind Javier. Why the hell does Arthur have to be on John’s ass all the time? 

“Come on, let's just keep pushing ahead”, complains Javier, becoming increasingly annoyed at the brothers’ bickering. Jesus, Arthur can be unrelenting sometimes. It’s too damn cold and miserable out, there’s no need to make it even more uncomfortable.

“See those buildings, John? That’s where we’re camped,” offers Javier in an attempt to lighten John’s spirits and distract him from Arthur’s ire. 

Thankfully, they ride the remainder of the way to camp in silence.

The three men ride into the middle of the dilapidated structures of the mining town, heading straight for the largest where the smoke floats out of the chimney. 

“Can we get some help here?” Arthur’s voice carries out over the snow as they pull the horses to a halt outside the building.

The rickety door is thrown open and Abigail comes running out with you close on her heels. A few others come assembling out as well.

“You’re alive!” The relief is apparent in her face as Abigail reaches up to lay her hands on John, confirming he has indeed come back to her. “Come on, let's get you warm.”

“Careful of his leg,” Arthur warns as John slides off the back of Javier’s horse and into Rev. Swanson’s supportive arms. As you get closer to him, your eyes quickly assess the man’s wounds, your skilled hands flitting about over his body. He’s an absolute mess. You’ll have your work cut out for you once again. But John is, in fact, alive and that is more than enough for you right now. 

You and Arthur catch each other’s gaze for a brief moment, a silent thankfulness that your beloved has returned to you as well, before you lead John inside for care. 

“Thank you, both,” Abigail says emphatically to Arthur and Javier, but her attention quickly turns to Jonn, angry for the days of worry she’s suffered. Like their whole relationship, the gamut of Abigail’s emotions runs from one pole to the other. “This is a new low, even for your standards,” she hisses into John’s ear. 

Hosea walks up next to Arthur as they watch John being half-carried inside. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” hums Hosea, knowing full well how irritable his eldest son is right now. Arthur has been moving non stop since the gang left the valley after Blackwater. He’s cold, tired, hungry and just disillusioned altogether. 

“You got any other lost maidens need saving?” Arthur retorts, his face devoid of any amusement.

“Not today,” Hosea chuckles, pulling a cigarette from his breast pocket.

Arthur lifts his head to look back at you, longing for your attentiveness, willing you to turn around once more to give him that smile of yours. But you’re already off with John. He watches as you help get John inside and the door shuts again, closing your image off from him. Like the sun setting behind the horizon, your warmth, your glow is eclipsed from his view.

With a slow exhale pushed through his nose, Arthur turns his attention back to Hosea.

 “You been talkin’ to Dutch about how we’re gonna get outta here?” 

“I was just discussing with Herr Strauss,” confirms Hosea, lighting his cigarette and drawing the smoke through his weathered lips. “When weather breaks, we’ll head east.”

Arthur’s face immediately scrunches in disgust. “East? Into all that civilization?”

“The west is where our problems are worse,” Hosea says pointedly. 

This is disappointing news. Arthur turns his angry eyes back towards the house where you just took John to get cleaned up. God, how he wants to march in there right now, grab you and head back to your room and forget about all this ugliness for just a bit. He just needs one goddamn moment alone with you to set his mind right again. But now you’re tied up with caring for that idiot. 

Deciding he’s had enough for one afternoon, Arthur trudges over to his bunkhouse, hoping that if he’s hidden out of sight, no one will ask any more favors. He sits inside the dreary, depressing cabin, stewing in frustration, his festering anger edging dangerously close to where his precious affections and love reside. He fears that he is beginning to lose that contentment in his heart that he has been working so hard to rebuild over these last few months. 

“We’ll be here freezing for weeks, waiting for the thaw to come,” he gripes as he pulls out his journal, flipping it open. “What a goddamn mess of things.”

*This images comes from @rosesrdr2photos

————————————

Over the next two days, Arthur becomes more irritable and distant, not just from the gang, but from you as well. The strain of losing Jenny and Davey and worrying over still-missing Sean and Mac weighs heavily upon his nerves. That, coupled with the constant need for warmth in the freezing cold and fending off the possibility of starvation is leaving you both frazzled. 

Dutch is leaning heavily on Arthur, even more so than before, if that is even possible. Sure, you and Arthur have had your arguments, but this is the first time he has been ugly to you. His aggravation is paramount yet he needs your presence to calm the hurricane of thoughts in his mind. 

But like Arthur, you are also being pulled in a multitude of directions. John’s injuries are severe and occupy much of your time, and there are plenty of other things to do to keep this gang going amongst the turmoil. Where Arthur is used to having your attention to himself, he now has to share you with the rest. And it is a feeling that does not sit well with him at all. 

The tension between the two of you pulls heavy on your heart. You’ve heard the gang speak of how much of an ass Arthur can be. Before you met, Arthur was known to be harsh and often difficult. Whether it was the nature of the jobs he was on or the nightmares of his past, or even his drinking, Arthur could be a son of a bitch to be around. And although you’ve seen him more than angry before, that aggression and ugliness has never been turned on you. Until now, as he is angry about everything. 

You try your best to be understanding and patient, but your own nerves are pushed to the limits, as well as his. You’ve never been in a situation such as this before and you so desperately want to turn into Arthur’s arms for him to shield you from it. But Arthur has the weight of the entire gang on his shoulders, leaving little time for comforting just you. 

You try to talk to him about it, but being faced with one more issue that he has to deal with, one more person asking something of him, ignites his fury. You’ve gotten yourselves caught up in yet another argument when his negativity rears its ugly head, testing the limits of your patience. He is being overextended by the gang’s needs and neglecting his own, as the gang must always come first. But it is leaving Arthur to be triggered by even the most minor annoyances, leaving him unbalanced and agitated. He has become focused on the continuing obstacles instead of the intended goal. 

What started as a simple statement about how your jaw aches from chattering teeth due to the cold sends Arthur into a storm of annoyance. 

“I’m sorry things can’t be all butterflies and flowers for you,” he bites back at you with a dismissive wave of his hand as you have elected to take your fight outside and away from prying eyes. 

“I never said it had to be,” you snap, trying not to raise your voice and provoke him even more as you can already see the tension in his shoulders, his face set hard as stone. “Things are hard enough right now, Arthur. You don’t need to be adding to it with your constant grumbling and complaining.”

Wrong response. 

“Come again?” His eyes shoot open, burning with anger.  “You best remember who you’re talkin’ to, woman.” Arthur’s voice settles into a low umber, making your chest tight and your heart race. 

Heat spreads through your belly as your spine straightens like an arrow and pulls your proud shoulders back to square up to his. You cross your arms over your chest, slowly inching closer to him. “Or else what?” 

Arthur would never hurt you. Ever. But he is still a man who believes in tradition. He loves your spirit, your fire. But you need to know your place. And he doesn’t appreciate your attitude in the slightest. But you won’t back down, either. 

Arthur’s jaw clenches tightly at your challenge, desperately trying to keep himself together. He’s used to getting his way when he’s angry, as that’s the very nature of his livelihood. And even though you have worked to tear down those walls that he’s barricaded himself within to see the loving and kind heart hidden there, he still has a bad temper and a mean streak that runs for miles. Arthur doesn’t need this fight right now. His hands slowly lift to settle onto his hips as he looms over you, but instead of being intimidated, you suddenly become distracted when you notice a flash of red. Your face immediately turns from sour to one of outright concern. 

“Arthur, are you alright? Your hand is bleeding.” It’s the wound from the wolf from when he brought John back. 

Arthur blinks at you, his face twisted up at the sudden turn in the conversation. “It’s fine, leave it.”

With an exasperated sigh, you try to grab his hand to look at it. “But if it isn't cleaned it could get infec-“

“I said leave it!” He barks at you, yanking his hand out of your grasp. 

The look of hurt and shock on your face instantly washes him in a wave of shame. Jesus, he can be a right ugly bastard sometimes. Afraid of saying anything else that will make this worse, Arthur abruptly turns, leaving you speechless in the snow as you watch him stalk away from you.

Several yards away, Dutch stands under the awning of the lean-to barn and observes the altercation between you and Arthur play out with a slightly amused grin on his face. When your conversation comes to an abrupt end, he slowly saunters over to you, following your gaze as you watch Arthur slam into your cabin. 

“Arthur has obligations, Miss Y/L/N. Responsibilities.” His expression carries a smugness that just rubs you the wrong way as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “He doesn’t have time for romantic nonsense.”

It takes you a second to process what it is that Dutch has just said and you turn a disbelieving expression towards the man, stepping out from under his falsely comforting arm. “I’m not trying to be romantic, Dutch. I’m worried for him.” 

“He’s fine,” Dutch says dismissively. 

“Is he?”

Your question causes a dark eyebrow raised in your direction, his intense eyes piercing into you like a dagger. Dutch’s dark-haired crown tilts just so before he speaks, the suffocating pause most unsettling.

“You may whisper sweet words in his ear, lay next to him at night battin’ those eyes at him,” he sneers as his lips curl into a falsely sweet smile. “But you don’t know him the way I do, Y/N.”

Time stands still as the argument hangs in the air, right there on the tip of your tongue. And oh, how you’d like to give the man a piece of your mind right now. So many things race through your rattled mind as you stand there pinned under Dutch’s burning scrutiny. 

But you need to choose your battles carefully, and now is not the time. 

“You are right about that, Dutch.” You lift your chin in slight defiance. “I don’t know him the same way you do.”

You hold Dutch’s gaze for a moment, an unspoken challenge between you. You would never dream of coming between Arthur and his family. But if it means his safety, his well-being, you will sure as hell step-up to take his back. 

But the tension is promptly snapped when Mary-Beth’s voice calls to you from across the yard. “Y/N! I think it’s time to change John’s bandages.” She even waves her hand to get your attention, trying to break the spell that Dutch has you under. 

The sound of your friend’s voice breaks the precarious trance, causing you to blink and inhale sharply to collect yourself and settle the frustration bubbling deep within your stomach. Your feet remain cemented to the ground as you desperately try to resist the urge to shake the tingling out of your fingertips. 

“If you will excuse me, Mr Van der Linde, I need to tend to your other son.” 

———————

The hours of the day after your fight with Arthur tick by slowly as the night eventually drapes everything in its path in darkness. Exhausted, you exit the ramshackle building where you’ve spent a good part of the day looking after John. You’ve been painstakingly cleaning his wounds and sitting with him as he rests, keeping vigil over him and only leaving his side now that Ms. Grimshaw relieves you when she comes to sit with him overnight. His vital signs are fair, but it wouldn’t take much for him to take a turn for the worse. A bad fever could easily do him in. And after losing Jenny and Davey, you just don’t want to take any chances leaving John alone for any extended period of time. 

The evenings here in the Grizzly Mountains descend into a quiet like none other. No birds, no wildlife, no commotion of people. Tonight, even the howling winds have ceased. Were it not for the freezing cold temperature, it would be beautiful. 

Cold air gets drawn into your lungs with a bone-weary sigh, your breath a dancing wisp in front of you. Tucking your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm, you roll your eyes upward and the stars above catch your attention. It seems that there’s almost as many stars as there are snowflakes. The inky black vastness of the heavens that cradle the cosmic diamonds is a sharp contrast to the crystal white snow at your feet, illuminated by the moon’s full glow. The pinpricks of light are like a promise of life in the darkness, a sense of warmth springing from the cold that envelops the world. And it humbles you as you try to find your place within it.

With John taken care of and the evening chores settled, your mind relaxes as your hands rub together to create warmth, and begins to drift once again to the issues that you have been trying to avoid thinking about. 

Being chased up into these unforgiving mountains by Pinkertons, of all people, is bad enough. But that is not what is troubling to you the most right now. Your mind keeps replaying the arguments and discontent between you and Arthur since you left the valley after Blackwater. Instead of sweet whispers in each other’s ears and breathless sighs against soft skin, you two are hurling bitter, angry words at each other, causing a coldness that you are not used to.

Something feels…broken between you.

Standing out in the cold night, the tender moments that you’re used to sharing with your love seem so far away now. You think back to sitting by the fire, curled up against Arthur’s warm body, his brawny arms secured around you as his lips dance along your neck, making you shiver with anticipation. You recall the delicate conversations of dreams and tender emotions that were whispered as you stared into each other’s eyes after making love. It seems like a whole other life now. 

Where is the roguishly charming man that you fell so hard for and so deeply in love with? You have never had any illusions of what sort of man Arthur is. But you had so desperately hoped that you were past the distemperment that perpetually plagues his mind. And a horrifying idea begins to take root in your brain:  Maybe Arthur is having second thoughts about you and this whole relationship?

Suddenly, you become short of breath and your heart flutters within your chest like a panicked bird. Tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes at the very thought of possibly losing Arthur, of the thought that the life you had envisioned spending with him could be snuffed out. You bite down on trembling lips as they get pulled into your mouth in an attempt to keep from crying. 

Looking up at the silent stars once more, the only witnesses to your pain, you are starting to question if your relationship is even real. 

—--------------------

“You comin’ to bed?”

You tense up as Arthur stands behind you where you sit in front of the fire to warm yourself. You just heard him outside yelling about some damn thing or another a few moments ago before he came blustering inside fit to be tied. He looms behind you as anger radiates off of him, making you shift nervously next to Mary-Beth.  

“I think maybe I’ll stay here with the girls for a bit longer if you don’t mind,” you say meekly, pulling your shawl up over your shoulders even more as you avoid his eyes burning into you.  

Arthur pauses for a moment, lips pulled into a hard frown, his gloved fingers twitching at his sides while he has his internal fight with himself about what to do. He’s getting really sick and tired of this tension between you. And yet, he doesn’t know what to do about it. Old habits of self-damaging thinking and second-guessed opportunities continue to plague Arthur’s mind, constricting his sanity. The words he needs to say to get you to really hear him do not come. And his actions, of course, default to what he knows best:  anger. 

“Fine,” he huffs out finally as his hand waves dismissively in the air at you before letting it fall haplessly to his side. Arthur storms out of the cabin, kicking over a wooden storage barrel on his way out and letting the door slam loudly in its hinges behind him. Arthur’s exit creates an awkward silence like a vacuum in the room and the eyes of your fellow gang members cautiously shift to you.

“You sure that was a good idea, Y/N?” asks Mary Beth, giving you a skeptical look.

Your thumb and forefinger pull at the corners of your temples in an attempt to quell the pulsing in your head. “My nerves are shot as it is. If I go over to that cabin with him we’ll just get into another fight. And I don’t need that right now. He don’t need that right now.” 

The air settles into silence as the fire in the hearth pops and crackles, its heat comforting you as you slowly allow the tension to drain from your shoulders. You nod your head in assertion as the idea solidifies in your mind.

“As angry as he is with me, it’s best I leave him alone. There’s a time to vent and a time to brood. And Arthur needs time to brood right now. He’s got a lot on his plate. Then I’ll let him vent.” You give her a small smile. “We’ll be okay.” 

Mary-beth’s eyes sparkle with red and copper as the fire reflects back into her freckled face when she takes you in for a moment. “I think it’s amazing how you understand him, Y/N. Lord knows, Arthur’s a hard nut to crack,” she hums warmly. 

“I don’t know what it is, really.” Your eyes settle unfocused on the flames in front of you with a slow blink as you ponder your beloved outlaw. “He’s a pain in my ass, for sure. But I love him just the same. Wouldn’t have him any other way, to be honest. I know he can be a beast. But even the most untamed and savage of animals need to be loved.”

Mary-Beth’s breath catches in her chest, the hopeless romantic that she is, moved by your statement. For what better way is there to surmise, Arthur Morgan, fearsome outlaw of the Van Der Linde gang, than that?

Like the crocus pushing through the cold spring soil, Mary-Beth’s frigid cheeks blossom into a serene smile for you. “I suppose if you can’t explain why you love someone, then you must really love them.” 

You lean your shoulder into hers with a contented hum of agreement. It is a bit of a relief to you that someone outside of your relationship with Arthur can see the potential beauty there. 

After a few moments, you look about the room and your gaze falls upon the poor woman that Arthur and Dutch had found. You nod to Mary-Beth, affectionately patting her hand, before standing up to move over to sit next to Mrs. Adler, offering her another blanket to cover her legs. 

“How are you holding up, Mrs. Adler? You okay?”

The woman lifts her head at the sound of her name, tearing her eyes from the cup of hot coffee in her hands to look at you. “I guess,” she shrugs. “Then again, maybe not.” Her eyes go dark once more, lost in a world of uncertainty. She looks so weak and fragile sitting there wrapped up in a blanket, trying to hold onto some sort of semblance of herself.

“It takes a lot of courage to look past what you’ve been through. Believe me, I know.” You reach out to put your hand along her arm. “You can trust us, Mrs Adler. You can trust that we won’t put you through anything like that again. And we won’t let anything happen to you either.” 

“Thank you. You’ll have to be patient with me, I suppose.” While her voice is sweet enough, her vacant eyes carry a sort of detachment to them that makes your heart just ache for her. It’s the type of look that you know just one wrong word would send them pooling with tears once more. “I’m somewhere between losing my mind and finding my soul right now.” 

“Aren’t we all?” Your kind eyes glint at her with a playful mischief to them. “You’ll fit in just fine, Mrs Adler. No doubt.” 

Mrs. Adler gives you a lopsided grin, the slight tremor of her nervously bouncing leg ceasing as the knot in her abdomen finally begins to loosen its grip. 

“Is that your husband?” She lifts her chin towards the door that Arthur just pushed through, as she tries to discreetly change the subject. 

“No,” you sigh in confirmation, “we’re not married. But we are together.” 

“He seems…gruff.” Mrs. Adler teasingly gives a raised eyebrow with her simple statement, and your head tosses back with a genial cackle erupting out of your throat. 

“That’s one word for him.” A bright smile erupts across your face as you think of Arthur. “Arthur can be the devil, for sure. But he can also be as sweet as an angel. When he wants to be. And with people he likes. Which aren’t too many.” 

Mrs. Adler replies with a humorless chuckle of her own. “Ain’t that most men?” But sadly, the dark cloud returns to settle over her features once more. “Not my Jake, though. He was a dear to me. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” Her honey eyes begin to mist again, her lips trembling woefully.

But you are quick to catch her gaze again as if looking right into her very heart. “For what it’s worth, you’ll have us for as long as you need, Mrs. Adler.”

“Sadie. Call me Sadie, I insist.” She gives you a genuine smile, probably the first since the death of her husband. “And, ‘for what it’s worth’, nobody has to understand what is between you and Arthur but you two.” 

And you and Sadie wrap your arms around each other, resting in the comfort of the other’s understanding. 

But outside in the cold, Arthur trudges through the snow, pouting and sulking as he heads back to the bunkhouse. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Things were finally going well for him. Dutch was starting to think of “retirement”, however that would look. And the gang was making its way away from trouble, but now you are all buried so deep. 

And, Arthur has you in his life now and things are going well there, too. Things are going too well. At least they were before this shitstorm descended upon the group. He longs for the blissful moments where he can taste you on his lips and smell you in his clothing. He should have known it couldn’t last. 

It’s hard not to let the all-too-familiar bitterness start to creep its way back into his fractured heart. Good things don’t happen to bad men. This is something Arthur has always been adamant about. Like a fool he was starting to believe you when you told him otherwise. When your sweet voice floated into his ears like a feather on the wind, swirling around in his mind and nesting around his heart, Arthur was starting to think he could have a decent life with you at his side, that you could somehow build something really good together. That he could finally mean something to someone. He harbored the thought that maybe, just maybe, you could eventually break away from the gang, just the two of you, after the dust had settled and everyone in the gang was safe and out of harm's way. 

Arthur wants Tilly to find the good man she deserves and to start a family of her own; to see Mary-Beth achieve that dream of being a writer and make something of herself. He’d love to see Dutch living his best life, free and wild. Maybe John could finally get his shit together and make an honest woman of Abigail and be a real father to his boy. He prays that Hosea will someday finally be able to rest his weary bones with a roof over his head and a fire at his feet. And for himself, to have you at his side on a little homestead, living the life that only existed in his daydreams before you fell into his life. 

But all Arthur ever seems to find is hardship and bloodshed. And now, he has you trapped in the middle of all of it, the very thing that he has wanted to avoid from the beginning. And what’s more terrifying is that he’s not so sure if he can protect you from it. Arthur can’t imagine the sorrow and responsibility you must feel from losing both Davey and Jenny, knowing that you did everything you could, but it wasn’t enough to save them. 

He’s not an idiot. Arthur can sense your grief and misgivings about what’s happened. What if you finally come to your senses and decide to leave him, leave the gang at the first opportunity you get to escape the danger all around you? He certainly wouldn’t blame you if you did. 

But the thought of you leaving clefts his black heart in two. What would Arthur do if he lost you? He may as well put a bullet through his skull if he did, as there would be no use in living without you. It would be like the color drained from everything in his life. The sun would refuse to shine and air would turn rancid, burning his lungs as he tried to breathe.

When you found each other, Arthur could not get over how your broken pieces fit together so perfectly with his. How wonderous it was that together, you create one person, both halves being fused together to make a whole. And now, he fears you may be slipping away from his ever-strong grasp, losing his other half, his better half.

Arthur stops at the corner of the bunkhouse, leaning against it with his forearm. His other hand comes up to his mouth, trembling as a shaky breath exhales across his lips. His eyes furrow like a canyon with concern. 

If he could just hear the sound of your laughter, then he’d be alright. 

---------------------------------

*Almost there! More drama to come, but don't worry, some fluffy goodness is coming!

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4​ @bimbo-dollz​ @pine4pple-b0i​ @redwritr​ @kuri-chans-blog​ @queer-sadie-adler​ @joelmillerswifey​ @gimmethosedaddymilkers​ @pcotarelo​ @delilah-grimes​ @maemortem​ @wistfulwisteriawitch​ @lilacxxdreams​ @mentallyillfrogs​ @absolutegeek​ @spurz​ @sophiaj650​ @uniqueclodzinevoid​ @lookingformaurice​ @pawoui​ @randomidk-123​ @yyiikes​ @eddiemetalheadmunson​ @twola​ @kmartkiddieisle​ @red-dead-simp @regwishesshehadmagic​  @rhehr241​  @earwen-x​ @akariver75​ @djennty​ @nervousmumbling​ @xliliths​ @unbotheredbeeeee​ @onnetonprinsessa​ @kittiowolf210​ @ezrynn​ @suhiss @arthurmargon​​ @codnerd1999 @queer-sadie-adler​​ @alice-vanderlinde​​ @sweetandstoned21​​ @j4llyf7sh @spooky631​​ @m0r4rx @ilovrxats​​ @i-69-urmom​​ @ddbluesie @ivuravix @nervousmumbling @sickvictorianangel @tirededuxhours @ezzythereal1 @chloepluto1306 @ivys-valentine @spiritcatcherxo @lea-khena @brccklynbaby1 @foundynnel @readingcoco @carmelamontezlikr @ultraporcelainpig @sofiaa-xcx @namesaretomainstream @miphy @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @loveheartabby @daisybvck @julialoopeezz @a-court-of-valkyries @oziozzioslo @stargazer-88 @lunawolfclaw

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people. 

[genshin-impact-updates]

Happy Birthday, Amber!

What delightful weather! I've brought Baron Bunny out to get some sun.

It was so miserable before with all that rain, I thought I was going to turn into a Sumeru mushroom!

Mm~ The smell of wild flowers in blossom! Spending time in the sun always lifts your spirits.

Do you have any plans? Once Baron Bunny's warmed up, let's go out for a meal! I'll treat you to an ice-cold drink!

Thanks to あかもく for the fantastic artwork!

[galaxy-fleur]

what shenanigans do Leon and his babygirl kiddo get up to when Ash is away from home? be it few days and such, how are they spending their time? besides missing Ash something fierce

🥰

This type of family fluff is actually not my strong suit at all, but just for you friendo, have a little 'what-if' one-shot, I hope it brings you some joy :3

~ 2.7k words.

Leon had always preferred warmer weather to cooler one. With no freezing fingers from the bitter winter cold or excessive sweating from the sweltering summer heat, spring was a fantastic season to tinker away on the front porch to his heart's content. The gentle sun rays warming his cheeks, the chirping of the returning birds keeping him company, and the fresh new buds sprinkled on the trees, just about getting ready to bloom after months of rest. Spring always brought with it some semblance of peace.

Though, in comparison, Ashley had always loved Christmas season most of all. But then again, it wasn't her that shoveled all the snow out of the yard every morning after a snowstorm!

...Not that he would ever let her do that, anyways. Heavy lifting was his job, not hers. An ultimatum that he himself has created, but one that he followed resolutely, anyways.

"-Dad! Dad! Could you tell the story for me again?"

The inquisitive little voice reaching out to him didn't really surprise him; he just hummed in acknowledgment while he worked, lazer-focused on the engine placed in front of him. She was always a curious little thing, that one.

"Well good morning to you too, kiddo. Someone sure is excited. What story?"

His bright-eyed, bubbly daughter was the happiest child in the whole world. At least that's what he strived for her to be. He will always be grateful that she was spared any sadness of pain that he knew this world had to offer. All she knew was what it was like to have a big family who adored her like she was the center of their universe. Her biggest problem was having to eat her veggies before dessert. She had more than he could ever dream of, and yet, she deserved more. Though, that's how Leon felt about any kid he saw, really.

He always wished for a world where no innocent person would ever experience unjust sorrow and suffering, but if they did, good and justice would eventually prevail, no matter the odds. Years have passed now since he decided to take a backseat and focus on his family instead of the endless battle against bioterrorism. While he had some lingering regrets - a gnawing sense of responsibility keeping him awake and restless on some long nights - he also knew he wouldn't change a thing. Plus, on most days, he had his hands full, what with taking care of the house and keeping a close eye on his little mischievous girl to keep her out of trouble.

He was happy with his current life, but he was really even more happy for Ashley for being able to achieve so many things she never would have imagined for herself back when they just met. She was the one who had advanced the most in building a happy, fulfilling life for herself. While he was living out his life one day at a time, Ashley now successfully operated her own small, talented team in a modest but welcoming local art gallery, designed to give anyone who wished to visit creative opportunities and a sense of community. It was nice. Seeing her succeed in something she clearly loved. But he was considerably more proud of other things, too.

Against all rules of this universe, Ashley's heart was his. A strong, open-hearted woman that somehow ended up becoming his life partner by her own wishes, sticking by him through thick and thin. He never thought he'd see someone like her by his side one day. Someone unconditionally devoted to him and stopping at nothing just to make him happy. He only hoped he brought her just as much peace and happiness in return. Though that seemed impossible, no matter how much she'd tell him otherwise.

The two of them had technically saved everyone all those years ago by stopping Saddler's plans in their tracks, but most importantly, they saved themselves. Together, they had been able to live out their own 'happily ever after' without reflecting on the past regrets. Because they were the ones who had transformed everything for each other. It felt like a happy ending to some fairytale, really. The cutest little troublemaker he has ever seen in his life, Sophie, entered their lives like an unexpected hurricane - one that was born out of love rather than fear. With freckles dancing across her chubby cheeks and disheveled dark hair tied in two braids.

She was without a doubt Leon's favorite child. It didn't matter that she was his only child. He'd sing her praises 'till his dying breath if he could. He probably will, all things considered. No matter how long it took, he always offered to watch her while Ashley was away. It became only natural for him to take over the household chores and all the other domestic duties overtime. He liked being the caretaker of the house. Even if he did get some odd looks sometimes, more often than not being the only man watching his kid at a playground full of moms and nannies.

Frankly, he wished more men were proud to show off their kids, but that's a talk he usually saved for late night rants with his spouse.

Ashley was busy overlooking an upcoming workshop today, not too far from the porch where he was working, but far enough away that Sophie couldn't follow after her. She watched him screw another bolt into the mechanism, sitting herself down on the ground close to him.

He supposed a 'mechanic' didn't sound as badasss as 'federal agent', but hey. This job was more enjoyable than he had anticipated. Keeping his hands occupied repairing malfunctioning machinery allowed him to concentrate and think clearly. Plus, he never did mind getting his hands dirty.

Sophie was now looking up at him eagerly, and he wasn't startled at all by the sight once he stopped to see what is it that she wanted from him. To grab his attention, she appeared fully prepared to pull on his sleeve for a long time. And she most likely would.

"How you met mom! Duh!"

Leon shook his head, laughing fondly: "...Your mom told you that story already though, didn't she?"

She shook her head, looking almost frustrated with his lack of understanding. He was aware that Ashley had given her some information about it, but not all of it. She was far too little to understand what had actually happened to them. Hell, it's a story they usually tended to avoid with any new acquaintances, too. Not for any grim reason, but simply because of how... bizarre it all was.

Nevertheless, since their meeting made headlines worldwide, they would need to speak on it with her someday.

"Nuh-uh. Mom always says that she met you in a castle but you always say that you met her in a church! One of you is a big liar."

Perceptive, she was. However, he just snorted in mild amusement at her pouty cheeks. She undoubtedly inherited her mother's stubbornness in getting what she wants. Not that he minded. He liked her fiery attitude. He tapped his chin in thought.

"So we told you different stories, I see. That must have been frustrating to you," he said as Sophie nodded her head. He set down his wrench, removed his gloves, and wiped some sweat off his brow. In any case, he needed a little break just about now. He might as well indulge her. "Well... Sweetheart, we were both telling you the same story, actually. While your mom prefers to concentrate on the minor details, I start at the very beginning. Because we can't agree on where the story should begin, we end up with it all muddled up. Pretty stupid, ain't it?"

Sophie gave him an enthusiastic nod, agreeing with his judgment.

Wow, harsh.

"Yeah! Does that mean that you will tell the truth now though?"

"Depends on whether you'll remember the magic word..."

She gave him those puppy dog eyes that ought to be considered a weapon of psychological warfare as she pulled on his shirt. Though, she was likely too young to understand that yet. Thankfully. "Could you tell me? Pretty please?"

Leon pressed his lips together, thinking about what he should say to her here. He hummed for a moment, then raised the girl off the ground, to what she squealed and laughed gleefully in his arms. Ashley was occupied talking to a small group of folks in the distance as he glanced over the front porch, putting Sophie on the edge of his work desk. They appeared to be in an another universe altogether. Seeing her so tall and self-assured, pursuing her passions with no hesitation, made him feel a surge of pride in his chest.

But he had to humor his daughter, so he will have to admire his wife at a later date. So he returned his focus back to Sophie. He couldn't exactly say no to her, even though he wasn't as skilled at this as Ashley was.

Improvising it is, then.

"...Once upon a time, in a prosperous kingdom, there lived a beautiful young princess. She wasn't sure of her place in her home, so she spent a lot of time traveling her land in search of her true destiny. Then, one day, the princess was stolen away. She had gotten lost from her dear father one day on one of her travels. She wasn’t sure where she was or how to get home again... but she found herself locked away by some very bad and scary people. There was a dangerous wizard in charge of this new, dark land. He made her stay there because he wanted to spread his evil magic throughout the entire world. The princess was scared she couldn’t leave... but she stayed strong, waiting for someone to come save her."

As Sophie listened carefully to his story, she let out a tiny gasp, her blue eyes wide. At least it appeared that he wasn't performing as poorly as he had anticipated. Usually, he would unintentionally reveal a graphic detail or two that would make Ashley glare at him for a good minute.

"What did she do?"

He smiled to himself, continuing: "She waited... and waited... but nobody could find her. She felt scared, but she did her best to stay hopeful. Until one day, someone new walked into the lost land. Someone from her kingdom. It was a knight sent by the king, the princess' father, and he was sent there to find her and bring her back home. But the dark wizard cast the same horrible spell on him as he did on the princess."

"Oh no!"

Her reactions were so passionate that he had to actively force himself not to laugh. It was undoubtedly boosting his ego, just a little. His narration began with a slightly rigid tone, but as he continued, he channeled his inner storyteller, growing more emotional.

"Finally, the knight found the lost princess locked away in a church, and he promised her to get her home safe. The princess wasn't alone anymore. They spent a lot of time together traveling through the dark land... walking through the castle and smiling for the first time in a very long time. The princess was kind to the knight in a way that he hadn’t seen in a long time, since for years, his only company had been his old mentor that disappeared a while ago. The knight felt happy... he was happy to see the princess smile at him." He paused, looking at Sophie playfully for a bit. "...Not bored yet, soldier?"

At his assumption, she huffed and shook her head: "I'm not! Keep going, what happened next?"

He chuckled but made no more effort to push back.

"The dark spell that was cast on them was dangerous. It made the princess hurt the knight against her will. The wizard cast that same spell on everyone in his land! That's why it was so dark and dangerous. This land used to be just as beautiful as the one they came from, but it was corrupted by the wizard's evil magic." Sophie let out another loud gasp from her side as she listened carefully. Leon continued: "The knight knew they had to break that spell before going back home. But they couldn't do it alone. Thankfully, they met another mysterious traveler on their journey... And he knew of a way to get rid of the spell! The knight did not trust this stranger at first... But he risked his life to save them. The mysterious traveler was punished for trying to help them. And it was none other than the knight's old mentor!"

"What!? How?" Sophie exclaimed, leaning forward towards him, making him lay a gentle hand on her chest to not let her tumble off the desk in her enthusiasm.

"Yes. It was him who captured the princess from her kingdom. The brave knight was at a complete loss. But before his mentor could strike him, the traveler gathered his fading strength to protect him. He fought back with a bravery fit for a true, righteous knight. So, the knight decided to honor the mysterious traveler for his heroic sacrifice. He may have been just a suspicious stranger when they met him... but he was a true, fine knight at heart. From then on out, the brave knight was fighting for the honor of the lost knight as well as the princess."

With a thoughtful look on her round face, Sophie nodded: "He sounds like a nice person."

Even though she was much too young to perceive it, Leon's smile turned more melancholy this time around: "...He was."

With a little sigh, he brushed the memories aside and continued his tale.

"So, the knight set out to find the princess before the wizard's dark spell would consume her completely. There were many dangerous traps set out by the wizard and his old mentor to stop him from getting to her in time. They made him fight monsters, magic, and even a giant fish! But the princess fought against the wizard's dark magic, too. She fought very hard to protect the knight just like he fought to protect her. And after a long fight... the princess and the knight defeated the spell can't upon them, destroyed the evil wizard, and escaped from the lost land! They could go back to the kingdom where the princess' father was waiting for her and reunite."

Sophie looked from Ashley back to him. She seemed to be processing what all that meant. Even at the age of five and a half, she was always aware of the smallest details. "So... you and mom escaped from the lost land... and got to stay together?"

He nodded slightly and stroked a few unkempt curls away from her forehead. "Well. Not immediately, no. But we escaped that dark land, and your mom got to see your grandpa again. I was happy to see them reunite, and I was grateful that the she had saved my life. Even if she... didn't know that. We went through a lot in that dark land... but if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t be living in this house we have today. It may have been a super scary story, but it has good sides too, princess. Your mom's living in her happily ever after of that story."

Sophie hesitated, then looked straight through Leon as though she could see the secrets he had hidden deep in his heart. "But, dad, isn't it also your happy ending? If mom didn’t get captured, then you never would’ve met her! And mom says that you made her very happy too. It's like you saved each other!"

When she said that, his heart twisted, but he managed to hide it by laughing. He always told himself this was Ashley's story first and foremost but... Sophie had a point. It was also his story. This was also part of his life. "...You’re right, kiddo. Y'know, with brain like yours, you just might grow up into a real genius! Why don’t we go out there and join your mom now, hm? I heard she should bring back some snacks..."

And with that, her attention was successfully diverted. She was already yanking at Leon's shirt nonstop as he assisted her in jumping down from the desk safely. "Mom! Not fair!"

As they walked, he looked down at her with a sly smile, sending a wink her way.

"...Just pout at mom for a while and she’ll let you get some extra. Don't tell her I said that, though. I'll get in trouble."

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 23: Under a Spell

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Jun (cold)

Caregiver(s): Mingyu (virtually)

Word Count: 878

Notes: Two Jun fics in a row. It's almost like he's my bias-wrecker or something.

“Junnie-Hyung!” Mingu cheered instantly when the Facetime call was accepted. He had been biting his lip, hoping that Jun wasn’t busy. He could’ve always left a voicemail if so, but he just really wanted to talk with Jun tonight. And the feeling appeared to be mutual; the sight of Mingyu made his hyung smile on impact. 

“Mingyuuuu!” Jun exclaimed, shifting around to a more comfortable position. He appeared to be on a couch, wherever he was. “How are you?”

“I miss youuu!!!”

“I miss you too! How are promotions going?” His voice sounded off to Mingyu, but he figured it was the audio quality. 

“Amazing, hyung!” Mingyu sighed. “Everything has been going so smooth, but it’s just different without and Hannie-hyung.”

Jun pouted. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. You’re living your dreams right now! How’s filming?”

“Filming is going great! My scene partners have been fantastic, and…” Jun broke off, disappearing off the screen, sneezing twice.

Mingyu’s face fell. Something in his brain clicked. “Hyung, are you sick?”

Jun nodded, swiping at his nose. “Yeah. Just a cold, though.” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to pout. “I’m sorry to hear that…” 

“It’s okay, really. It was bound to happen. I had to get thrown in a pool for a scene the other day, and wet clothes plus cold weather plus AC blasting inside PLUS erratic sleep hours…” He shrugged. “It’s more annoying than anything.” He sniffled, rubbing at his nose again. “Besides, I’ve had worse.”

“But we’re not there to take care of you!”

“No, and that’s definitely been felt. Luckily I have the next two days off anyway, and my cast mates have been really kind…”

“But they're not us,” Mingyu interrupted. 

Jun shook his head. “No, they’re not you.” 

Mingyu couldn’t fight the frown off his face. Yes, of all the members, Junhui was probably one of the most adept at taking care of himself when sick; he never made a fuss about it but advocated for his needs and spoke up to let others know what was going on, took his medicine and drank plenty of fluids and slept as much as possible. But just because Jun was self-sufficient didn’t mean he had to be. When he was at home, in the dorm, with his team, they knew how to take care of him without being asked. Mingyu knew exactly how Jun liked his tea, knew which blanket in the living room he preferred, knew the recipes that comforted him the most. And knowing that his brother was so far away from all that… it broke his heart.  

“Gyu? Are you still with me?”

“Y-yeah. I’m just… bummed that you’re sick and I can’t be there with you.”

Jun laughed. “I’m pretty sure you have better things to do then hang out with me and my germs.”

“Okay, fine, I’d rather not hang out with your germs, but I’d take them if it meant I could hug you.”

“Are you homesick for me?”

Mingyu blinked. “Honestly, yeah, I think so. Aren’t you?” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. He slapped a hand against his mouth, eyes comically wide. 

Thankfully Jun laughed before his smile turned thoughtful. “Desperately. But I am also so happy to be here. This all feels so…”  He began to move his hands in a circle, searching for the right word. He opened his mouth to respond, but pitched forward with another sneeze instead. “See, I don’t even have words for how much I miss you!”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Should I let you get back to resting, then?” 

“No, no, I want to hear about the comeback!”

“Are you sure?”

Jun nodded. “Talking with you has been the highlight of my week.”

So, beaming brighter than the sun, Mingyu talked. He explained every detail of their comeback from practice to pre-recording to performances. He explained their outfits, their sets, the memes and jokes that they’d created. After a few minutes, distracted in his story, Mingyu noticed that Jun’s eyes had slipped closed. He hadn’t noticed when that had happened. 

“Hyung? Are you still with me?”

Jun smiled before opening his eyes. “Yes, I’m listening. Your voice is putting me to sleep, though, it’s so peaceful. It’s like magic.” 

“Adila kiya akiya shurapoeh / With a language only we know, I cast a spell,” Mingyu sang softly. Jun beamed. Mingyu continued singing, starting back at the top of “Spell.” Jun moved his shoulders along to the beat, arms twisting and winding in an interpretive version of the actual choreography. Mingyu’s voice grew sillier in time with Jun’s movements until both of them were giggling hysterically. 

Suddenly a knock came on Mingyu’s door. He turned to see Joshua poking his head in, gesturing that it was time for dinner. Mingyu nodded before turning back to the phone. “Okay, hyung, I’m so sorry but I gotta go.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for chatting so long. I love you, Gyu.” Jun formed a heart with his hands. 

Mingyu copied the gesture. “Love you too, Junnie. Feel better soon, okay? Pretend I’m there giving you the biggest hug in the world.”

Jun wrapped his arms around himself. “I can feel the love.” 

“Good. Bye, hyung.”

“Bye bye!” 

[e-dubbc11]

Beneath the Surface

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: mentions of emotional and physical abuse. Comfort and fluff. Nightmares

Word Count: 1.2K-ish

Summary: You had a nightmare last night, Billy takes you to your favorite place that always calms you and makes you feel better.

A/N: The beach is one of my favorite places, especially the beaches at home. I’m currently on vacation and the beaches here are pretty fantastic too but there’s no place like home. I’ll put a pic of one of my favorite beaches at sunset close to home at the end of this. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

In between the vibrant energy of a hot New England summer and a cold, desolate winter, after the crowds have gone away and they’ve locked up their summer homes for the season, there was a period of time during late summer of unspoiled tranquility.

That was your favorite time of year to be at the beach. Under a canopy of blue with hues of deep pink, red, and orange, the world seemed to stand still as you listened to the gentle lapping of the waves against the wet sand.

The weather was still warm, a little drier, and a bit more comfortable. Over the grassy dunes, the soft sand stretched out in both directions while small flecks of quartz glistened in the sand beneath the early evening sun.

The soothing symphony of waves crashing against the shore continued to pull you deeper and deeper into a trance like state. The sea looked like a rippling blue blanket with all of its twists and turns, the noise echoed off the rocks, resonated in the air and floated into your ears before it disappeared and the relaxing song started to play all over again.

This was the place that always made you feel better.

No matter what time of year it was, this is where you would come to escape him. The serenity of this place cancelled out the pain, the yelling, name calling, and the bad dreams. But now it was a different type of escape, a happy one where there weren’t any tears to stain your cheeks.

Rupturing the tranquility, you heard the screech of a gull overhead; it startled you and caused you to flinch but the hand enclosed over yours, squeezed you tightly.

The soft voice you heard whispered reassuringly that it was ok, and “he can’t hurt you anymore, sweet girl.” His warm body there next to yours, cradling, comforting you and always keeping you out of harm’s way.

The sand sifted in between your toes as you watched the sun dip lower and lower toward the horizon where the sea and sky dissolve into each other.

The rolling waves lightly crashed against the shore bringing large clumps of seaweed with them and the salty sea breeze gently kicked up tiny grains of sand that ended up stuck in the short bristles of his beard.

His endless brown eyes focused on the dark beauty of the hungry sea, a slight smile stretched across his face, and you watched him wiggle his toes in the warm smooth sand.

He relished in the harmony too. He was very content.

Billy wanted to see the ocean you loved so much as a child, where you came to get away from everything, and where nothing bad had ever happened to you.

He had felt so helpless last night because he couldn’t stop the nightmare from happening, watching the tension grip your body, your knuckles white as you tightly clutched the sheet in your hands, and smothered by your own screams.

He would do anything to keep you from having them but still the sobs tore loose, freeing themselves from inside your throat and echoing throughout the bedroom.

Murmuring soft sounds and words to calm you, Billy tried his best to soothe you from your nightmare. He knew what it was like to be vulnerable while asleep, to fight going to sleep because he didn’t know what would be waiting for him when he closed his eyes but he didn’t care about that right now. It wasn’t about him; it was about you which is why he brought you here.

Billy remembered you talking about your favorite beach, how the music of the waves would sing to you and make you feel better any time that monster hurt you, called you “stupid,” or “ugly,” or threaten to tear you so far down that you couldn’t get back up and no other man would want you. “No one will want someone as damaged as you except me.”

There weren’t any tears this time. As long as you had Billy, you would be ok.

The canvas of bright colors across the sky kissed the high points of your face and melted away the remnants of your nightmare. You looked over at Billy, leaned in close and kissed him on the cheek. He turned slowly to face you, a wide Cheshire cat smile stretched across his lips while the familiar scent of his spicy cologne drifted past your nose.

“Thank you, Billy.” You whispered. “For this.”

You brought your gaze toward the dimming blue sky.

“I wish I could do more, sweet girl. I wish I could replace every memory of him with something else but I can’t.” He said with an alarming edge to his voice.

Billy’s handsome features twisted with rage as he clenched his fist.

Your heart swelled at the thought of Billy wanting to take all of your pain away, wanting to make all of your nightmares disappear forever, never to come back.

“It’s ok, baby. This is my favorite place, and you’re my favorite person.” You said. “Look at our view! It’s perfect!” You exclaimed. “I don’t need anything else. I love you.”

He pulled you into his lap, moved a stray piece of hair away from your face, and touched his forehead to yours. The anger in his eyes was suddenly replaced with love and affection before his lips collided with yours.

He tasted like the sea salt in the air, you could feel it in his hair too as your nails gently raked against his scalp. Parting your lips with his tongue, Billy deepened his kiss, pulling you in tight by the waist, his long agile fingers danced up and down your spine, silently telling you that he loved you too.

Every time Billy kissed you, touched you, held your hand, or even just smiled at you, he was replacing bad memories with good ones, mending the pieces of your shattered soul you deemed unfixable.

He dropped all of his responsibilities today to try and make you feel better, bringing you to your favorite place two states away. And he would do it every day if you let him, if you wanted him to.

The sea was forever vast, uncharted and in a way, reminded you a lot of Billy. It was dark, beautiful, and there was so much more beneath the surface if you took time to unearth the possibilities of the unfamiliar.

Both of you were broken in your own way and still navigating the emotional and metaphorical caverns of Davy Jones’ locker, looking for those priceless treasures within each other that you can’t live without.

You would have to take a deep breath and dive deeper than you’ve ever been before but this time you wouldn’t be alone and promised to pull each other up when you needed air.

His love made it possible for you to breathe again and you would be forever grateful for it…always.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @ittybxttykxttytxtty @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Idk if your requests are open but if they are I thought that frank castle x reader fic with a line 'You're an asshole but I love you' could be cute

Hi nonny, here you are, written for @theradioactivespidergwen 's 🍂Sweater Weather Writing Challenge🍂. 😊

🍁Frank Castle x gn!reader🍁

Please reblog if you enjoyed it!

"A'right, c'mon baby, it's time to get up."

You groan, stretching and yawning loudly, the difference between the dark behind your eyelids and the darkness in the room barely perceptible as you blink your eyes open sleepily. The covers are pulled back, not in anger, but the jarring of waking up so early makes it feel like it and you're grouchy and on the defensive.

"Fraaaank nooo! Why?!" You whine, reaching out and scrabbling to get the corner of the soft duvet back over you but it's no use, he holds it hostage and then hooks his arms under your outstretched ones and lifts you up from the mattress.

"Because I clearly remember you sayin' somethin' like; 'Frank, I agree to you waking me up before dawn even if I get all pissy about it'. So c'mon darlin', we're on a schedule."

You concede but grumble about it as you make your way to the bathroom to get ready. "Ugh, yeah well, past me was an idiot."

Frank just laughs and heads to the kitchen to get everything else you need together.

You're yawning almost constantly in the truck on the way, pleading for the Thermos of hot coffee you know he's got stashed somewhere as you pull your warmest hoodie and scarf up around your neck.

"Ten more minutes darlin'. I promise, just a lil longer. It'll be worth it." He responds, with a knowing smile.

Your breath makes ephemeral clouds of mist in the air when you first step out of the truck after Frank eventually pulls up at the parking spot. There's thick trees all around and the ground has the slightest hint of a frost making the leaves and grass crunch beneath your boots.

The birds are already wide awake and broadcasting their twittering, musical trill as Frank takes out the bag with the supplies, slinging it over his shoulder and then leads the way up a trail. You wind your way up the hill with your hand nestled in his, his fingers occasionally rubbing over the tips of yours to keep them warm.

The thick blanket Frank sets down in a spot at the crest of the hill keeps the cold ground at bay, the moss providing a welcome cushion underneath. You sit down, leaning into his body, his arm wrapped around you holding you to his warmth as you both silently sip at your steaming coffee and take in the beauty beginning to unfurl before you.

The first rays of the sun, bands of deep amber fire and crimson slowly emerge over the horizon, gradually and fantastically spreading a wash of the beautiful golden light of a new day across all of the trees below. It's as if you're the only people in the world just then, hidden in your own little universe.

"Frank?" You say, quietly, almost reluctant to break the spell of this moment. As you look at him you see the autumn light reflected in his warm brown eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I'm tired, and you're an asshole, but this is perfect and I love you."

His deep laugh shakes you and he wraps his arm tighter around your shoulders, pulling you closer to plant a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

"Love you too, sweetheart."

[thewritingstar]

Frozen Bliss: Gruvia Oneshot

after months of being frozen in my own self doubt, I have emerged for a second to give you this.

I do hope you enjoy. Its a little bit more poetic than fic (if that makes sense and yes I have been binge listing to TTDP)

thanks for reading <3

------

In her mind, she had thought love felt like she was evaporating. They said you know when the person you love stares at you and it feels like when sun creeps on your skin after being in the cold dark for hours.

She felt that with him. A blasting heat absorbing everything around her. Hot sun on her skin yet they had all forgotten that she was made of water.

And while they said she was glowing, they didn't see that she was fading away. Becoming so lost in the blaze of him that his smoke made her steam and loose the way her eyes sparkled.

She choked on a fire that she had helped build and the clean air they once had coated her lungs black until her knees buckled and she had gasped for air. Her skin bubbled as his so call love boil her at her seams. There was nothing to be left of her if she would stay.

He said no one could love her the way he did and she desperately hoped that it was true. The scorch of his fire was crueler than the years of a dark sky. She'd rather spend the rest of her life sheltered by the rain if it meant to keep his flame away.

For a moment, after she left, she was merely raindrops of who she was. Like a ripple in a lake that never settles to see the clear reflection. Water can retain any form and yet she barely remembered hers. She thought it would be best to join the water cycle and wait until she precipitated. Maybe then she would be like a fresh water spring.

There was no hope. A fantastical heat that made her feel warm for a moment left burn marks everywhere. She wanted her heart to be mended but not if it was forged from embers.

Heat rises, yet she felt frozen on that roof top.

Locked into a tundra she had never witnessed. Her own water boiled with anger and she hated the feeling of heat. Hated how he turned her own magic against her. A rage consumed by broken promises and remorses. Once a delicate rain cloud, now stood a violent mess of a tsunami contained in a cracked bottle.

But him.

He was cold.

He was frozen.

She was mesmerized.

An ocean is meant to be a plunging cold and while the burns were still fresh, she jumped.

They were scared that her water would break out into an icicle. That she would become an ice sculpture at the center of the table. Water into a solid form that could never be melted. Oh how they thought she was going mad for following him down that snowy path.

They said that no matter the weather, her rain would prevail. There was no room for growth or flowers to bloom as she drowned everything and took herself too.

But how wrong they were.

She had sunk so far down into the depth of her sea, she had almost forgotten that she commanded its waves.

Instead of blisters of heat, there were snowflakes dancing around her. Fractals of ice surrounded her world and danced rainbows across her skin. And for the first time, when his hand caught hers, she felt a warmth like never before.

It was beautiful and peaceful. Skating on a frozen lake but she never was scared if she fell in.

They said that opposites attract but she felt perfect with him.

Her heart became mended and crystallized in a way that enchanted her. Every burn was slowly cooled to where she almost didn't notice the scars. Her face had paled from the heat that when she stared at her reflection, her red cheeks surprised her.

Some didn't like seeing their breath in the cold, but she loved it. The higher the altitude, the shorter the breath. But here with him, she never felt more alive.

Water and ice. One in the same. She was frozen in his eyes and she had never felt safer.

For a man that claimed to have a frozen heart, it thawed instantly with her.

The cold could leave someone dead, but it brought out her pulse. A remembrance of how powerful she was came back in her own tears as he held her.

Her lungs flushed out of any smoke became resistant to heat. A flower that could withstand the frost. A beauty that embrace the cold. Every trace of her skin was covered in a blanket of his lips.

Love for them was clear and pure like ice. No longer does she squint within flames to see her own hand. She parades loudly through the snow knowing no harm will come her way.

She was eternally grateful to be caught in this frozen bliss.

----

:) Thanks for reading, let me know what you think <3

-star

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Starlight — Prologue

pairing: fae!ezra x princess!oc (Marigold)

rating: M (first person POV, split second mention of death, strained paternal relationship, arranged marriage, fantasy elements, i literally created a world and lore for this so if none of it makes any sense that is why, this chapter is just meant to build the world—we meet Ezra in the next chapter)

wc: 1.2k

a/n: hi everybody!! i’m well aware this book will not be one of my more popular series, but i really just wanted to write something fantastical, and even if i’m the only soul who reads this, it’s fine! we love a bit of self indulgence every now and again! anyways, hope you guys like this little prologue. i’m hoping to have the next chapter out within the week 🤍

series masterlist

All I’ve ever known is summer.

In my world, Etos, there are five kingdoms: Heims, Oceanus, Florere, Ember, Nox, and Solis. Anywhere else is far too dangerous for a mortal to step foot into, even if they could manage crossing the sea that separates us from the Fae lands and beyond.

The furthest land from my own is Heims, a frosty wonderland full of people hardened by the perpetually cold weather. Most of our coal comes directly from Heims, as well as my father’s toughest soldiers. My eldest sister, Wilhelmina, or Mina, as far as our family is concerned, married the charming Prince of Heims, Kristofer, and currently resides in the castle made of crystal so clear it almost looked like ice, setting the standard for the rest of my sisters.

Oceanus, too, was an important ally to have—their land producing the entirety of our fish as well as guarding the coast from those who seek to take back Etos. My father knew this well, and soon arranged for my second eldest sister, Peregrine, or Peri, to be married off to the King’s highest ranking emissary, Lord Titus, assuring the alliance between our lands. Luckily for soft-natured Peri, Titus seemed to be a gentleman and truly in love with my sister. I would have never allowed my father to marry her off if he wasn’t. Her gentle and kind spirit was far too precious to me to allow some man to ruin it.

Ember, a land of constant autumn, was where the academics went to study the arts and the sciences. My sister, Wilhelmina, was the actually the very first woman to be admitted into the university. I always admired her tenacity in the face of adversity, but even in my admiration, I feared her intellect and drive, just as my father must have after breaking down and allowing her to leave Solis.

The softer lands—at least in the minds of the northerners—were Florere, a land of eternal spring, and Solis, my land, the eternal summer. Octavia, the sister closest in age to me and by far the only one I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy due to her mean-nature and competitiveness, had recently left Solis to be with her betrothed, the Prince of Florere, Ignacio. I didn’t bother to vet her partner, but from what I could see by his solid gold carriage and fine regalia, he seemed to be just as pretentious as she was. A perfect match as far as I was concerned.

Even in all the beauty of Etos, all the varying climates and scenes, I never wanted to live anywhere else but my home. Solis.

Here there was no reason to be cruel and cold. Here, we appreciated the arts, and believed that leisure itself was an artform. We worshipped the sun, we worshipped our gardens, and when it came to love, we worshipped one another.

My father, his mother, and her father before her all wore the golden crown of Solis. Warmth and sunlight was woven into my bones, tanned my skin, softened my heart. My mother once told me, long before she passed, that my sisters and I were all born beneath a blazing sun at her request. I suppose she believed a warm birth meant we’d all live warm lives and die warm deaths.

As I wandered through the garden contemplating my newly revealed fate, I couldn’t help but wonder if her efforts were in vain.

My father, a once-loving, soft man I cherished more than the sun itself, had changed since my mother’s shocking and violent death after she was mauled by an injured wolf while attempting to remove an arrow from its side in the very forest I now padded my feet into. He grew cruel and hateful towards me, his youngest of five girls. I suppose I understand why, if I truly think about it.

Unlike my four older sisters, I took after my mother so much that even I found myself shocked at the resemblance. And even if I didn’t have her shimmering, gold eyes, or her caramel-brown head of long curls, or the same dimple in my left cheek, I had her heart. Soft, curious, and empathetic. Everything my father once loved about my mother, he now hated about me.

Of course he found it hard to look at me, to talk to me. I was his grief personified.

But even in all his iciness and hatred, I never expected that he’d sign my life away to the coldest, darkest realm in the world. To Nox. To marry the infamously insufferable King Kaius and become the future queen of the starland.

Whether I wanted to or not.

It felt personal, his choice in my betrothed. A daughter of the sun being forced to never see it again. It almost felt like another death to endure. Everything I have ever known and loved gone overnight.

As I found my place underneath my favorite elm tree, the one me and my mother used to sneak off to with our stolen bundle of sweets from the kitchen, I couldn’t bring myself to loathe him the way I wanted to.

Perhaps the distance would chill the warmth I still held in my heart for him.

Perhaps then, I could hate him the way he deserves.

My sister, Cosabella—the most cautious and maternal out of the five of us, happily married to the head of our father’s King’s Guard—and my father stood in front of our palace, its white marble and green grass beckoning me to stay. To fight for my right to live here in the sun, just as my mother had. But one look at my father’s cold and emotionless face and I knew there was no point.

This was how he wanted it.

“Take care of yourself,” Cosabella warned, slipping me a golden dagger. “Do not trust anyone. Write when you can. I will see you…” She trailed off, but I knew why. She didn’t know when we’d see each other next, if at all. “Just…be careful. Remember that just because the sun is gone, does not mean mother isn’t right there with you. She lives in you, Mari—“

“Enough,” my father shouted, gesturing behind me at the carriage waiting with two footmen and two Kingsguards. “Off you go.”

“Yes, father,” I replied, my voice as small as a child as I gave Cosabella one final hug, memorizing the citrus of her perfume.

“Go on, now,” she smiled as she pulled away, wiping the tear from my cheek. “Go introduce Solis to Nox. Bring them a little light.”

“I love you,” I managed, nodding my head at her command. “I will see you.”

“I love you too.”

I knew she wouldn’t promise me anything she couldn’t assure, but it didn’t help my cracking heart as I climbed into the carriage, leaving everything I’d ever known behind.

I placed my hand upon the glass window and watched as she lifted her own, waving at me before resting it over her equally breaking heart.

“Make yourself comfortable, Princess,” the footman that I’d known since I was a child called back into the carriage. “It’s a long ride to Nox.”

To the eternal darkness.

I wasn’t sure how they managed any of it. How cold they must be, not only their bodies but their hearts and minds. I couldn’t imagine any beauty in a black sky.

I’d heard about stars in my astronomy courses, learned that the sun itself was a star, but it never seemed to make any sense to me to spend time contemplating a billion little specks of light when I could lay beneath the biggest. A light bright enough to shine over the entirety of the world—except for Nox.

My father had said it was cursed by the fae Kings and Queens who once ruled over these lands, a punishment for the mortal revolution. And based on the description he gave of his own visits, I was inclined to believe him then. But now…

Curse or no curse, this was my fate. I could either accept the cards dealt to me and make something of them, or I could fold.

My mother taught me to never fold.