#where sarah could've lived

[tlou-obsessed]

Joel getting to Jackson and going from job to job, exhausting himself deeply. Extra time means more time to think, and the more he thinks the more his deep buried grief resurfaces, because this life is too much like what it had been before. Tommy thinks it's just Joel being Joel, he was like this before the outbreak too, but it's Maria who notices that Joels running from something, and casually tries inviting him over to help with the baby, she casually tries to talk about her own process with grief, and it gets to Joel who shakes his head, and she tries to get to him. Telling him that he has to feel it, he has to let it out... which results in Joel silently shaking with the baby in his arms.

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[astrababyy]

i really like this. i feel like feyre and tamlin had the kind of relationship pre-acomaf that sort of dug both of them out of a hole they’d been in. and both of them just expecting that it would be the same with their relationship in acomaf, where their love for each other would be enough to heal their wounds, is a really natural progression of their relationship.

tamlin wouldn’t be retconned to hell, but if he internalized a feeling of guilt over all the deaths in the spring court as well as feyre’s own, it’d make sense that he’d feel like he needed to overcompensate after being so lax and free in the first book. this would correlate really well with feyre, who maybe is avoiding the responsibility that comes with what she did utm and secretly questions whether it was all worth it. so she pins the blame of it on other people instead of herself so she doesn’t have to accept her own reality.

i also like the idea of feyre’s dark side in acotar. i feel like that being emphasized even more in acomaf, where she has just been turned fae and feels like she’s succumbing to the faeries’ innately darker nature, would be interesting in tandem with their relationship.

sometimes i think about how the acotar books could've been a great way to show that "love doesn't heal trauma" rather than whatever points sjm was trying to make about abusive relationships and sa. instead of tamlin being abusive, she could've written that feylin's individual traumas kept them from reaching out to each other. or that feyre felt suffocated by the perfect, idyllic and alive spring court when she felt the opposite on the inside. or that tamlin felt overwhelmed by the sudden influx of responsibilities as he's trying to rid himself of the nightmares from utm. they try to make it work. they try to replicate some of the dates and dances from book #1 but there's an almost tangible shadow over their relationship now. and maybe one day feyre sees a memorial for andras or a likeness to one of the high fae living in the spring court to one of the high fae she killed utm, and has a panic attack. and this serves as the catalyst that severs feylin's relationship and reveals that yes, their love broke a curse, their love saved prythian but it couldn't (and shouldn't) heal them.

[folkwhoredoll]

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

[eatommo]

Kisses of Fire [j.m.]

Summary: You and Joel get caught up in a champagne-filled domestic dream, and your impulses are too strong to resist. Aka, you and Joel sing and dance in the kitchen until you can't deny your feelings any longer.

C.w: slight dub con because of alcohol consumption, mentions of parental loss, age gap (reader is in her 20s), unprotected pinv, lots of praise, pet names, Joel is a sweet talker, fluffy dancing and cooking with Joel, size kink?, creampie, squirting, oral sex (f receive), mentions of oral sex (m receive), breeding kink if you squint, mutual pining?, idk I probably missed some let me know!

A/n: Hello! I am alive! I started a new job and it's been pretty crazy but I am pleased to bring you my first Joel Miller fic and my first contribution to the Dbf!joel subgenre that has been one my favorites lately. enjoy!

~3.5k

“Joel, the sauce is going to burn.” you stumble through a laugh, trying to focus the little clarity of your mind on the chicken browning in your ceramic pan. He had insisted on opening a glass of champagne to congratulate you on your new job. It was sweet and dry, exactly what you liked, and it went down easy.

You were sitting around the coffee table gushing and hardly letting the man get a word out, and then he asked if you were hungry, and well you hadn't yet eaten and with your stomach growling at his words, he was very insistent.

In truth, you'd always looked out for each other, you'd help pick up Sarah from school, on occasion try new recipes in his much larger kitchen, and in turn, he'd fix your sink leak, install a new shower head, or even build you a new coffee table.

Here standing in his kitchen you felt so comfortable, stirring the pasta with one hand and rummaging through his cabinets for oregano with the other. It could've been the alcohol or the decade-long crush on the older man that was driving you wild.

With a rush of melody, you realized where he disappeared as the fun rhythmic beat of Be My Baby echoes through the living room and into the kitchen. Joel's words barely call above the song, “Oldies okay?”

You turn to answer him, only to catch him jamming out to the song behind you as he strides cool as a cucumber back into the kitchen. “More than okay.” You’re beaming, enjoying the music and the laid-back demeanor of his slight dance and groove.

You've cherished the few moments of joy since your father passed away a few years ago, singing with him and Sarah in the car, bullying Joel onto a rollercoaster, and summertime BBQs complete with movie marathons.

This felt different. Not only was Sarah noticeably absent, but there was an electric hum of something between you, it was almost palpable. Chalking it up to the alcohol, you settle back into your rhythm of taking care of the food in front of you with extra sway to your hips and occasionally singing into the wooden spoon like a microphone.

Joel returns to your side, stirring the thick sauce before grabbing a spoon from a drawer and tasting it. He moans around the cheap metal, throwing his head back in exaggerated ecstasy.

Hoping the heat from the stove disguises your blush, you carefully accept a spoonful he offers you after he cools with a few quick purses of his lips, humming in agreement.

“What did you say this recipe was called?” When he's been drinking, his Texan drawl lengthens, and you swallow around the lump in your throat, lord have mercy.

“Marry me chicken? It's said to get a man to marry you on its own…” you try and let your voice trail off as he grabs a colander and begins to strain the noodles for you, and before you can think you add, “I thought it would be good practice.”

You catch something in his face as he looks toward you, now mouthing the words to a song by Simon and Garfunkel, but your brain is a little too fuzzy to dissect it completely. Turning off the heat, you quickly add bacon and parmesan before tossing the chicken and sauce mixture on top of Joel's freshly strained pasta.

He hovers over you like he hasn't eaten for days, grumbling something about sweet torture as you garnish his bowl with freshly grated cheese. Turning your attention to the table you see a second bottle of champagne adorning a small dining set, and your flukes full and awaiting your attention, and your blush returns, what is happening to you?

Dismissing himself to turn the music lower, you set his plate down and settle into your chair beside his. Briefly, you consider refusing another glass, you were supposed to drive home, but his slightly tousled curls and the nonplussed smirk on his face as he walks into your field of vision wash over your body like a cool shower on a hot Austin evening, refreshing, revitalizing, and rewarding you with his simplistic beauty.

The way his eyes fell to yours with each silly verse, speaking to each moment you’ve swooned over him in private and cementing the swell of your heart. He sits and you both immediately dive into the food, moaning in unison at the salty and creamy flavor. “I get it.”

“For sure.” You confirm, shoveling more into your mouth as delicately as you can in your haste. “I’ll keep it in my back pocket for sure.” You both laugh and reach for your champagne for a toast.

“To the luckiest man in the world.” This time, he does a piss poor job of covering his shock, and you don’t dare let the moment slip from your grasp, setting your fork down, and reaching to settle your hand on his forearm, tenderly running your fingers over the rough-tanned skin.

The affection seems to coach a weight from his shoulders, as the tension in them drops and he meets your eyes with a deep and wicked sense of playfulness. Holding his gaze, and touching the lips of the flukes together you smile innocently, and hum as the cool bubbles coat your tongue and lift your confidence higher with every passing moment.

In a flash you feel the energy in the room shift, as silence flirtatious eye contact is shared between smaller sips of champagne and groans of delight, you find your eyes lingering longer on the base of his throat and the purse of his lips around the tip of the glass.

In your stupor you miss his devilish grin, he’s chasing the feeling of your gaze on his skin, drinking in the slip of your guard, and suddenly the incredible food you prepared for him is not nearly enough to sate him.

It’s his turn to stare, watching as your lips part in a soft pant as he takes a lingering swig from his glass, imagining how delicious this could pair with the taste of your pussy. Fuck, he’s so hopeless, you could talk him into anything, yet you sit and torture yourself undressing him with your eyes and practically projecting your dirty thoughts onto his chest.

When your eyes meet again your breath catches in your throat, some snarky comment you bury beneath the burning fire on your cheeks. “Joel…” it’s an invitation, a plea, and your heart stands still in its cage in the breath between your words and his mouth on yours.

His beard and moustache are rough against your lips, but the kiss is hungry, and not nearly as vulnerable as you feel. It's a clash of tongues and teeth, your bodies are drawn together like the world is stitching them together with desperate rough movements.

You can taste the rich sweet champagne on his tongue as it drags over yours, tilting your head back with a soft hand on your throat. Standing to his feet, he breaks the kiss with a reluctance you feel, but he’s ushering the plates off the table in a single trip, setting them on the counter to be dealt with later. The complaint dies in your throat, as you let your brain devour him in a primal sense. The broad expanse of his chest rising and falling in heavy needy breath, the veins in his neck as he tilts his head to return the same hungry stare, you don’t make it past his biceps before his hands are on your sides, directing you to stand but only for a mere second as your practically lifted onto the kitchen table.

His mouth is on yours again, hot and determined, your mind is made up, and he can feel it in each little whine he swallows. Confidence surges through him, bolstered by the hum of alcohol in his system, and he leans over you guiding you to your back, while he slots himself between your legs.

You part them quickly, wanting to feel him pressed against you more than you want to breathe, and rather than following you he kisses down the smooth skin of your calves and begins working on the button of your shorts, yanking them up and off with a dexterity that would surprise you had it been anyone else.

The thin cotton panties are not your first choice of sexy intimates, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as his gaze holds at the growing wet spot pooling in the fabric. His index fingers ghost over the seam of your pussy. “Are you sure?” He kisses the words across your skin, moving along the inside of your thighs as his stubble draws the nerves in your skin taught.

You blink your eyes a few times, almost not believing and basking in the warmth of his breath. Your mouth falls open in a pant as you throw your head back onto the table, in any other circumstance it would've hurt. “Yes…Joel…please.” Each word takes a lungful of air worth of effort.

There's a dark chuckle as if taunting you for being so pathetic, as he nibbles on the skin of your inner thigh, you feel goosebumps spread across all your skin, unaware if it's from shame or the heat of his mouth muttering sweet nothings into your skin.

“So pretty,” he coos letting two fingers trace over your slick panties, “Spread out on my table for me,” he presses harder but slows his movements to a beautifully slow taunt, “A fucking meal.”

The chair moves sharply back with his movement, as he pulls your underwear to the side and licks at your hole for his first taste. His mouth is feverish in appetite, licking and sucking and caressing each part of your sex, the assault is overwhelming at first, the movements so erratic you’re unable to focus on anything but trying to breathe. Cantering your hips against his mouth his rough palm stalls one of your thighs from closing, the hand is firm and warm commanding you to obey in just its presence. “More,” you beg, again the pleasure dulled as he slowed to listen.

His free hand goes to the waistband of your underwear running along its length and tickling the skin, before you feel a rough tug at the fabric and hear the tearing sound before you can even comprehend what’s happened. The fabric disappears and the soft table mat you are perched on protects you from the cool wood of the table. He mumbles more things into the flesh of your mound, and he kisses at the exposed skin of your hips, “Sweet little thing.”

You throw a hand over your eyes, losing yourself to the embraces and brushes of pleasure he showers you in. He settles back between your legs, pinning them to your chest with his arm and working two fingers slowly into your tight heat. The stretch is pleasant, and he lets his tongue lave over the top of your sex. “Joel.” You whimper feeling his knuckles curl inwards brushing against a bundle of nerves that has your vision lulling white. Each stroke feels like it's pulling your soul from your body, and an unfamiliar pressure builds as he coaxes the orgasm to the surface with his tongue swirling over your clit.

You explode, soaking the table and his hungry waiting mouth feeling the clear gush of liquid pool beneath you and coat your thighs. “Oh god, I’m sorry I-” you stammer, not having experienced this yourself before.

Joel’s attention snaps to your eyes, “Don’t.” It's a warning, his eyes dark and muddled with something animalistic you’ve only seen when he’s angry. “You’re going to do it again.” he sits straight, and you realize he’s still fully dressed as he stands on his feet, dwarfing you against the table, undoing the length of his belt.

Unsure if your breathing is coming fast or if he is moving slowly, undoing the buttons of his flannel, and exposing skin that you’ve seen countless times before, but as each button is freed and his shirt spills open, you struggle to keep your breath even. Thick tanned skin, soft to the touch but cords of practical muscle run through his pecks, and down his well-defined biceps hold your eyes still, as your heart clips away steadily. You mumble something about his muscles, fawning over him like you’ve done so many times before, but unafraid to get caught this time.

He peers down at you, maintaining eye contact through your spread thighs as you lay waiting gawking at him like you always have, the loose leather of his belt is tugging the jeans down his hips slightly exposing the soft flesh of his stomach and the feather-light trail of hair disappearing below his jeans. He longed to reduce you to a babbling drooling mess, he wanted to mark your skin his and fill you so full his traces would linger on your cunt for days. Days, he knew it wouldn’t be easy to stop, he felt like he was running downhill and his legs were jelly beneath him, hurtling towards some sort of self-destructive meltdown. But the sweet tang of you lingering in his mouth, splashed across his chest, on his dining room table.

You were perfect, even more so than he thought possible. He ached, the jeans strangling his thick cock, he longed to free himself and sink into you. “Come here.” he stepped closer, back between the welcome squeeze of your thighs, and he wondered if he would need a new table.

You sat up barely even with his chest and when you're close enough he brings you in for a deep and filthy kiss, giving you a chance to taste your slick from his tongue and to groan as your hand settles over the hard length of his cock in his pants. You allow a finger to trace over the outline surprised when your hand keeps finding more of him to play with, fighting the urge to squeak in delight as each kiss grows in fervor.

If Joel hadn't suggested otherwise, you would've happily been fucked to bliss on the table, but as one of his hands falls to cup the supple flesh of your ass you're lifted into his sturdy arms. Now even this isn't a first, but your cunt is pressed flat to the ripped muscles of his abdomen and you can't help but trail feather-like kisses and nips across the thin skin covering his Adam's apple, half tempted to suck a bruise into his skin as he whines lowly into hair.

He traverses the stairs with ease, fingers squeezing and playing with your ass as he does so. As you enter his room, he leans in for another searing desperate kiss, nipping and tugging on your bottom lip almost painfully slow.

The bed is plush, more so than you expect, the sheets feel cool and inviting as you settle into them, not daring to turn your attention away from Joel for a second. The moon is the only light in the room, but it's bright enough for you to drool over the large bulge he reveals as he shucks his jeans.

“Something you want darlin?” that all-knowing chuckle, call your attention to his face, always handsome but there's a depravity and a hunger in his eyes that is a little bit intimidating.

“I-” You struggle to decide what exactly it is you want to do, part of you wants to let him lay down and have you suck his cock dry, and the other part wants to see you bent in half stuffed full of his cum.

Your stumble only brings another dry chastising chuckle, “Don’t worry honey, I'll take care of you.” His dark boxers leave little to the imagination, the fabric pulled tight across him as the curve of his cock is pinned to the curve of his hip. He’s huge, bigger than you could’ve dreamed, and by the looks of it nice and thick, you would be happily limping around in the morning.

He plants his hands next to your legs, crawling up your body until he’s even with your mouth, his skin radiating heat and his mouth meets yours once more. The taste of you is still lingering in his mouth, spurring you on.

The clothed hardness of him presses against you, insistent and delightfully relieving the tortuous pressure building at your core. You run your hands against the muscles of his back, at first gently caressing but as his teeth skim your pulse you dig into the flesh with your nails. “Joel…” you whimper, knowing if he wanted to drag this any further you'd have no choice but to beg, there's something so addictive to his power and the way he looks at you. He knows what he's doing to you, he knows the way you shift your hips to grind against him is a silent plea, he wishes he could withhold longer, but each hitch in your breath coaxes more precome spilling into his boxers, he hasn't been this hard since he was a teenager.

He hushes you, soothing you with a hand running over your hair, and shoves his boxers down to free himself. He lets the weight of his cock slide over your sex, the thick head catching deliciously on your clit and allowing it to get coated in what's left of your cum. You both groan into another kiss, “Condom?” The question shocks you into reality briefly, but you quickly shake your head no, not bothering an attempt to form any words.

You swear you hear a whimper in his half-lidded chuckle, but you try to focus on the feeling of his body pressing against yours, the heat of him and the rich smell of his skin the taste of his mouth as he kisses you through a few more lazy strokes.

He runs a calloused hand over the soft skin of your throat before sliding it around and into the hair at the back of your neck, tilting your eyes to his As he lines up and slides in a single brutal thrust. Your body tenses at the stretch, but the pleasure is immense and Joel's mouth parts in a pant so beautifully you crack a wickedly seductive smile.

As he begins to canter his hips, his grip on your hair gets tighter, holding your eyes to his, his pelvis grinds delectably against your clit, as the ridges of his cock and the angle of his hips drag along your walls. You wonder if you'd been able to take it if it hadn't been Joel, you don't think you've ever been this fucked out in your life. He presses your legs slightly further apart nudging at your cervix, and grounding down.

The orgasm rips through you before you know it, the shake in your legs and your panted obscenities only encourage him further. “Fuck, good girl,” your hips love on their own grinding up fucking yourself through the climax as a second wave of white-hot pleasure soaks his abdomen and your thighs, “So good baby.”

Your head drops, body limp and wrecked he kisses along your cheeks and forehead, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

He moves quicker than you can register what's happening, his boxers are on the floor and suddenly you are straddled over his lap dropping down onto his cock as he buries his face in your tits. Tongue drags deliciously over your nipples as he lets you adjust to the new angle, you rest your head on top of his, kissing his sweat-damp hair and rocking your hips slowly. You didn't think he could feel any bigger, each slight rock nudges almost painfully against your cervix, words no longer forming in your brain and breath escaping in squeaks.

You let yourself get caught up in the moans and praise failing out of Joel nonsensically, the drag of his stubble on your skin overstimulating, you bear down on him and shiver as you hear the hitches in his breathing. “Where?” you almost miss it, his voice is hoarse, desperate, strained even.

“Cum inside me.” you can't suppress the smirk, “I want it.” It's your turn to pull his head back, looking deep into the rich dark brown eyes as they admire you, he chews on his lip. His shoulders hunch as you feel him twitch, his grip tightening on your hips as he uses the last bit of his strength to bounce you on his lap and fuck up into you as he cums deep and hard into your wrecked swollen pussy.

You suppress a shutter, you feel like you're made of gelatin and you slump against his body, going completely slack.

He waits a few moments to collect his wits and allows you both to catch your breath. “Should I start a shower?” You laugh, hoping to skirt over any sort of rebuff.

“Sure,” he massages the flesh of your ass, “I'll take care of the leftovers.” You're overwhelmed with a sense of relief, both letting out a massive sigh at the same time, and laughing once you make eye contact again. You feel his heartbeat against your chest and lean in for another kiss, the complicated stuff can come later, but the smile he gives you as he tilts his chin up slightly for the kiss, makes you feel like it's all going to be more than you could've dreamed of.

Part 2

[kelcemenow]

Return To Sender - Chapter 2.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1551

Warnings Nothing, we're still setting the scene. But there's a smidge of flirting!

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

The radio played softly in the background as you meticulously proof-read the last paragraph that you had quickly typed. You had woken up early, motivated and determined to have your first draft finished and sent to your editor, meaning you hadn't even changed out of your pyjamas before sitting down at your desk to work.

Reggie was still snoozing in his bed when you leaned back in your chair, scrolling carefully to check again for any obvious spelling errors or punctuation mistakes. You adjusted your posture and attached the document to an email to Sarah, your editor, clicking the send button with a small smile. Rolling your neck, you rose from your chair and glanced around your office, a small collection of brown boxes piled in one corner and a stack of framed photos and pictures that you hadn't gotten round to hang onto the walls yet. As you checked your watch for the current time, your doorbell rang, causing Reggie to lift his head excitedly.

"Stay there, Reggie." You said, holding your palm out with the verbal command.

The old, original wooden floorboards creaked as you paced towards the front door, the sound from the radio growing louder as you approached the living room. Turning the key in the lock, you opened the door to see your neighbour standing on your front porch.

"Hey, I...uh...brought your mail again. They keep delivering it to my house." He said with a sheepish grin.

You took the small stack of letters from him, "Thanks. Although, you could've just left them in my mailbox again?"

His eyebrows lowered slightly, "Yeah. But I figured bringing them to you was the neighbourly thing to do?"

You smiled, biting your bottom lip awkwardly in the short silence.

"Anyway-" He started.

"Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

His eyes twinkled for a moment and he lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, "Uhh...sure. Thanks."

You turned around and headed for the kitchen, leaving him to close the door behind him and instantly wondering if the coffee invite to a complete stranger was a mistake.

Meandering around the large dining table that was situated in the middle of the kitchen, you reached your coffee maker and opened the cabinet above it, your hand ghosting over the myriad of options, "Latte, cappuccino, americano?"

He stood in the kitchen doorway with his hands in his pockets, "Americano, please, thank you."

You nodded towards one of the dining room chairs as you grabbed the correct coffee pods that you needed, "My Mother would be so disappointed in me. She always told me not to invite strange men into my house for coffee."

The man laughed as he sat down and dipped his head, resting his elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers, "I suppose I should've introduced myself first, huh?"

"It's only fair. I mean, you know my name from snooping at my mail."

"Hey, I was being a good neighbour and bringing it to you!"

Your shoulders shook as you chuckled, "I'm just messing with you! I appreciate it, really."

"Travis. I'm Travis."

You pushed the coffee pod into the machine with a soft click and turned to face him, "It's nice to meet you, Travis."

He smiled back at you, the creases around his eyes deepening, "So, you like it here?"

"Yeah. I mean, I only moved in on Sunday so it might still be too early to tell. But so far...all good." You carefully filled the mug with coffee before placing it down onto the table.

He grabbed the drink with his large hands and pulled it closer to him, nodding his head in appreciation, "So, where are you from?"

You finished making your own drink and took a seat opposite to him, "Chicago, originally. But my family moved down to Atlanta when I was young. Then I went to New York, Buffalo...Kentucky for a little bit. And now I'm here." You shrugged.

"Wow, that's a lot of moving."

You laughed under your breath and glanced at another stack of unpacked boxes by the refrigerator, "Yeah, you'd think I'd be better at it by now."

Travis' eyes darted towards your outfit, "Are your clothes still in boxes?"

You looked down, confusion washing over you before noticing that you were wearing your pyjamas. A warmness rushed to your cheeks and your hands flew upwards to cover your face subconsciously, "Oh my God, I didn't realise I was still wearing these."

"It was either that or it was some new fashion that I didn't know about."

"Well, this is embarrassing." Your head dropped, shaking from side to side.

Travis sipped his coffee quickly, "Nah, it's kinda cute."

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your chest burning from his comment. Almost immediately, Reggie came bounding into the room, seemingly impatient from waiting in his bed.

"Awww, hey big guy!" Travis called out, allowing Reggie to place his front two paws on his knees as he praised him, "You're a good boy aren't you? You're a good boy!"

You smiled as Reggie's tail swayed wildly, "I take it you're a dog guy?"

"I love dogs. I got two at home." His head tipped towards the window that faced the street, "If you ever need a dog walking partner, I'm your guy."

"That would be awesome. Reggie needs a lot of walks so sometimes we are out for hours just walking for miles." You stood up to retrieve a treat from the glass jar on top of the refrigerator, "Luckily, I work from home and for myself so my days are pretty flexible."

You handed the treat to Travis, which he accepted gladly, as did Reggie, "What do you do?"

"Oh, I'm a writer." You said, almost coyly.

"A writer?" His eyebrows lifted, "That's impressive. Would I have read anything of yours?"

You folded your arms, "Probably not, unless you read romance novels often?"

"Hey, I can be a romantic guy!" He winked, causing a tightness again in your torso. "Wait...Y/N L/N?"

You winced, unsure of his reaction, "Yeah?"

"My Mom loves your books!" He called out, his eyes wide and his hands gesturing towards you, "She's read like...all of them!"

"Yeah, I get that a lot." You nodded and rolled your eyes, "My demographic is single working women and Moms."

Travis smiled, "She's going to be blown away when I tell her that you're my new neighbour!"

"I could sign a couple of copies if you think she'd like that?"

"Are you kidding? She'd love that!" He clapped his hands together, "Imma get some serious good son points for this!"

You giggled, "Glad I could help with that!" You took another sip from your coffee, "So, what do you do? Apart from being a part-time mail man?"

Travis smiled widely, "I'd be a great mail man! I'd sing on my rounds, I'd tell jokes, I'd dance down the street, people would love me as their mail man!"

"I expect that tomorrow morning then!"

"You got yourself a deal." He tipped the rest of the coffee into his mouth, using his thumb to wipe away a drop that escaped onto his bottom lip, "I play football."

You leant forward slightly, intrigued, "Like, play football? Or play play football?"

Travis' lips thinned as he smiled, "What's the difference?"

"Do I have a football star in my kitchen, is what I'm asking?"

He shrugged slightly, "Well, it depends what you mean by 'star'?"

Your mind suddenly flashed with information, and Travis' face became instantly recognisable, "Travis Kelce? Oh my God, you're Travis Kelce? I can't believe I didn't recognise you, I saw you on SNL!"

He rubbed his beard with his left hand, his right one still gripping his empty coffee mug, "Yeah, that's me."

"Oh my God, I...I can't believe I'm having coffee...in my pyjamas might I add, with Travis Kelce." You choked slightly on your words, "My brother loves you!"

"Hey, invite him over! I'll get my Mom here, we'll have a barbeque and make our families happy!"

You laughed, leaning forward to lightly tap his arm, instantly noticing how solid his muscles were, "We could get married and maybe their brains would explode!"

Travis' laughter bellowed out as he slapped his hand down on the table.

"Wow, that was weird." You pressed your fingers to your temples and stared straight ahead at Travis, who was clutching his stomach, "I don't know why I said that!"

"Relax, Y/N. It was funny." He said breathlessly.

The corners of your mouth lifted and you exhaled a relieved sigh.

"Listen, I gotta go. But thank you for the coffee, it's been really cool getting to know you."

You picked up the two empty coffee cups from the table and placed them into the sink as Travis said his goodbyes to Reggie. Smoothing over your pink satin camisole top, you made your way to the front door and opened it, letting the fresh air and bright mid-morning light pool into the hallway.

"I'll see you around?" Travis said as he arrived next to you at the door, "And try and have some clothes on next time, huh?"

You blushed as you watched him skip down the few steps and onto the pathway, turning quickly to flash you another smile.

______________________________________________________________

Not much to say for this one, it's still building somewhat! I am always open to suggestions as to what should happen with my ongoing series' so feel free to send a message or an inbox with any ideas!

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[meimi-haneoka]

Shocking: English edition of Clear Card volume 15

I'm very pleased to inform you guys that a friend showed me some pages from the English edition of volume 15 of Clear Card (which has just been released) and they fixed a whole lot of translation mistakes I had pointed out when the relative chapters came out in simulpub!!

(all images courtesy of Sarah/Rainbowbee - reposted with permission)

I saw around 20 pages and I was so happy to see not only the fixed translations, but also some lines rephrased in a better way to explain things more properly.

The one above made me emotional because in that correctly translated "that makes me so happy to hear!" there's the emotional load of an underlying "I have no idea how my daughter will look like once grown up and I'll never live enough to find out, so at least learning that from you makes me happy" that a "thank you!" just didn't convey (and then again, it was just incorrect).

Like, seriously, they even rephrased what Lilie said as to make more clear what Kaito's goal has been the whole time, and it conveys better that the lie he told Momo was for a good cause (because he knew she was a kind creature, he didn't want her to grow worried and try to stop him).

Finally they have mentioned Lilie's ring was a price she paid to save everyone's derriere!!!

Akiho was not supposed to remember about Momo, and that's been correctly restored here.

This is the volume where Lilie and Momo explained to Sakura part of what was happening to her, included some concepts difficult to understand, and it was pivotal they nailed it right.

This hasn't been the case with the past releases (the mistakes of the simulpub stayed most of the time, and some lines that were changed only ended up being more wrong), so I wasn't really hopeful or anything, but today they shocked me in a positive way.

I remind you that in this volume there are 2/3 pages that have been partially redrawn by CLAMP (with changed dialogues) in the part where Lilie talks, so I warmly suggest you to get it and check them out when you have the opportunity.

Now, I can't help but wonder if the japanese side got any hand in this sudden care for the translation. If the long months between releases (english volume 16 will only come in March 2025 despite the japanese one has been out since April of this year) is because Japan wants to supervise the translation. After all, Ohkawa did say in that famous Space (where they mentioned being aware of the translation mistakes) that she would've liked to try talking about this issue with the translation team.

And I can't help but also think about what we could've had if they had just put this amount of care from the beginning.

If they had proofread from the start. If they had translated all the words in a sentence and not lost some along the way.

If they hadn't stubbornly chosen to phrase everything regarding a certain character in a malicious way.

I'm crossing my fingers that Volume 16 will get the same amount of care, if not more. 🤞

[deceitfuldevout]

Haunting You

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Housekeeper!Reader

Word Count: +1,574

Warning(s): +18, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, Forced pregnancy. Ward is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I got this idea after listening to Beyonce's haunting music video.

You've been best friends with Sarah since childhood. When your parents decide to move away, she insisted you live with her family to attend the same college. With their blessing, you find yourself living with the family as a personal housekeeper. It's a reliable source of income that's kept you busy.

As soon as school was out, you decide to pick up another job at a local diner. You were given a key to their home due to you working late shifts. Ward insisted it was too dangerous, he assigns Rafe as your personal driver. But when you go missing one night, the entire town has their eyes set on the Cameron family.

A search party is held the next morning and following nights after. Rafe is the only one who doesn't attend. Only returning after spending the weekend probably partying. Ward scolds his son for being so careless, but Rafe didn't seem to care. No matter what he does, his father always seems to find another flaw in him. He shows more affection towards his daughter's best friend than his own flesh and blood. He'll be damned if he's second best to some Pogue.

It's been months since your disappearance. So when the police inform the Camerons that your investigation had been labeled a cold case, Ward had to be the one to break the news. After the last and final search party, Ward consoles his daughters. Rafe on the other hand, was nowhere to be found.

Typical, unreliable Rafe. In fact, none of it even bothered him. Someone who he's been responsible for the past year suddenly goes missing and there isn't even the slightest bit of concern. Nothing. If it weren't for Topper's party, he would've been a prime suspect. Ward knew of your friendship with Sarah, that’s why he agreed to hire you in the first place. You were a good kid. Until the day his son informs him that you ran off with some merchandise. Ward ignored all of Sarah's pleas and files a police report, from then on the rest was history.

Ward had kept himself cooped up in his office. Tonight had been a thunderstorm warning he could hear the heavy rain pattering against the windows. He listens to the strong, sharp wind. It resembles a faint cry, no...plea. It sounded almost like you. Like he could hear your cries from down the halls. As if you were still here. Calling, pleading for help. This wouldn't be the first time he's felt a presence in their house. He swore he heard it first coming from the vents. Surely it would go away the next morning. An hour had passed and it was still there.

A faint, ghost-like howling. Ward knows he isn't alone. Wheezie was out for a slumber party, and Sarah was at a friend's place. He could've sworn he saw Rafe stepping foot inside right before the storm hit. But nowadays it was hard to tell. His son barely set foot inside the house. Not unless he was rummaging for supplies or extra cash. To the point where even his father grew suspicious of his activities. He wasn't on Pogue territory, and none of his Kook friends had seen him recently. His jeep was still parked out front, so where the hell was he?

Ward searches for his son upstairs. He makes his way inside Rafe's room. His son wasn't there, the only clue being left is his phone tossed aside on the bed. Knowing Rafe, he'd never step outside the house without it. This time there's another shrill cry, more audible is heard coming from behind Rafe's bed. It sends shivers down his spine. Ward pulls it back, revealing the vent connected to it. He knows where it leads to.

See, the Cameron estate held a few secret rooms. One of them had been in his office. Another in the library, and the last room being an underground storage unit, built years ago by the first owners. He makes his way to the basement, where the entrance to the bunker was. To his surprise, there was a faint light at the end of the staircase. Finally, the voice halts. Whoever this intruder was, they're certainly not welcomed to squat in his house.

Ward picks up a lamp left at the end of the stairs. He follows the faint noise until he reaches the source. For a moment, they sound like Sarah's until he listens more closely, no, he was sure they were yours. But how? You'd been missing for months. He shines the light at the silhouette. His burning question finally being answered. That night their family joined your search party, everyone had been there. All except one.

Ward knew he should've spotted the signs. He knew something wasn’t right when his son of all people suggested that you, his old classmate, work with them. It wasn’t like his son to help hire employees. Let alone a housekeeper. He should've kept more distance between the two of you. That night, Rafe was supposed to pick you upand he did. The housekeepers who had left for the night. So there was no one who saw him dragging you down the basement stairs. During all these months he'd been cooped up down here. All this time, Rafe knew.

Ward didn't want to admit it. If he could just sweep this whole incident under the rug, then maybe it would fade within time. But there you were, sobbing, rocking yourself back and fourth. He notices you were holding something. A bundled blanket. It starts moving. That's when he realizes there was no turning back from the damage Rafe had done.

A small fist raises in the air as the babe cried out for its mother. You were nearly drained, your face losing color as each minute passes. Drenched in sweat and still sore from the after birth. There was no time to spare. Ward had to think, and he had to think fast. Out of all the things Rafe could get himself in, why? Why did he bother someone like you of all people?

You were a good kid. You made everything around you better, and in a way, more complete. Ward noticed the way his son used to look at you. He should've stopped this sick obsession before it could take root. Never in his life would he predict such an outcome. You look up at him with pleading eyes, “P-please…please help us!” A small cry came from the covers. At that moment Ward realizes his son had gotten himself into something he couldn’t reverse.

What you had suffered was unfortunate, but he couldn’t risk losing everything he’d worked hard for. "P-please Mr. Cameron h-help me you have to hurry before he comes...!"

He throws on an act, "Honey, who?" Approaching you with fake concern.

"I'm so sorry I should've stayed far away--I should've never gone in his room if I knew he would--" you can't help but get choked up. Ward gently held your shoulders as he pulls you in for a hug. After a moment you gather enough courage to look him in the eyes, "It was Rafe. All along it was him!"

Ward felt horrible for what he was about to do, "Oh sweetheart..." he picks up the lantern and takes a step back, "I can't risk losing my family because of one mistake,"

That's when your entire world came crashing down. As if your heart had broken into a million pieces. This was the man who had watched you grow up with his children. Who you thought embraced you as one of his own. He sighs, "It's a small sacrifice to protect my family, I hope you'll understand now that you have one of your own," He makes his way up the stairs, ignoring the echoes that bounce off the walls as you plead, scream for mercy.

You let out a final shrill cry, "I hope this follows you for the rest of your life! Like a curse, I hope this haunts you for the rest of your life!" It was the last thing Ward hears from you before leaving. He meets Rafe at the entrance. His son drops the medical supplies in hand. He had had been sporting a fresh bruise on his face. One of the many you'd given him during these past months. Even now at your at your most vulnerable form.

Rafe had the audacity to look at him as if he'd just killed someone. Ward sighs, "Care to explain?" giving his son a moment to find the right words. Rafe isn't phased, not even in the slightest. He's not upset that he'd got caught. He's more nervous that his father found out about a the kid he had behind his back.

Rafe looks his father dead in the eyes, "I love her," smiling at his proclamation of 'love'. it was at that moment when Ward felt pity for his son. He should've known better when Rafe decided to go under the radar. Nothing good ever came from it.

As mad as he was, Ward couldn't blame the child born from such circumstances. So, the Cameron men decide to hatch a plan. Later that summer, the Camerons decide to hold a grand solstice celebration at their manor, inviting almost every single Kook in the area.

They decide to hold the event at their house. It was a coverup plan. An excuse to show off their newest renovations, which indirectly helped cover their tracks. A perfect distraction for the Cameron ladies of the house. Ward let them redecorate the inside in preparation for the party. It gave Ward and Rafe time to rearrange the old vents away from the noisy basement. All while Rose and the girls were kept busy with the décor.

During the event, Rafe took his time introducing his son to each and every last member of Kook society. The whereabouts of his mother seemingly out of the picture, abandoning her own child and leaving Rafe a single father. They took pity on him and the situation he'd been forced in. Rumors spreading that he'd been seduced by some lowly Pogue. He decides to step up into the role and embrace fatherhood, playing hero for safe face. Of course the Kooks ate his story up. Who doesn't love a happy ending?

Ward sees his son selling the story and can't help but feel much more relieved. Way more than he had been in months. But just to be sure, he kneels down to the nearest vent and places his ear against it, nothing. He hums a tune before downing his champagne. There would be no more 'hauntings' coming from the Cameron house.

[loonylooly]

at this point i'm wondering what sarah is thinking when writing her love interests, like ok it's clear she finds them hot but like....are they good people

Rhys:

UTM lap dance shenanigans

throwing Feyre into danger constantly (Weaver, destroying cauldron, getting the book from Adriata, etc etc)

Still not doing jack shit about wing clippings in Illyria?? Emerie is right there, Rhysand, go enforce your damn laws

Insulting his wife's sister constantly

Almost killed his wife's sister cause she dared give her important medical information

Locked Lucien (MY BOY!!) in the house of wind

Locked Nesta in the house of wind

Didn't give Mor any warning that time he made her face her abusers and she cried i think (ngl i forgot most of it)

Ignoring Hewn City even tho...Kier is like the only bad guy we've seen from there?? Surely there's decent people in Hewn City, don't gotta make everyone suffer

Nesta windhaven kidnapping intervention so she stops spending Rhys' money (if it was really about her own sake, they would've put a stop to it much earlier)

Seemingly alienates everyone in Feyre's life that could and would stand up to Rhys for Feyre's sake. Lucien? Nah, shoo. Nesta? Nah, shoo. Weird thought but Tarquin? Yeah, makes her steal his book.

And last but DEFINITELY not least; demon baby wife death

HE COULD'VE TOLD FEYRE... OR ATLEAST NOT THREATENED TO KILL HER SISTER FOR TELLING HER WHEN HE HOULD'VE TOLD HER IN THE FIRST PLACE??

THERE'S PROBABLY MORE BUT MOVING ON

Cassian:

Barely ever stands up for Nesta in the IC

Aids in kidnapping Nesta to Windhaven so she stops spending whysand's money

Laughs at Nesta when she falls down the stairs

Aids in punishing Nesta for daring to tell Feyre important medical info

Constantly going agaisnt Nesta's wishes and trying to "save her" when she doesn't want him to

That one time Azriel asked Nesta if Cass had pushed her down the stairs...Like are we gonna ignore that?? Personally I'd have a quarter life crisis if my closest friend, who is like my sibling and has known me most of our lives, seriously entertained the idea that i would physically assault the girl I like

general aggressiveness all of ACOSF

aids in bulldozing Nesta's apartment

Rowan goddamn Whitehorn (Who I've yet to see people bashing him somehow,,, HoF rowan was like if ACOSF cassian had a horrific murder baby

Left his pregnant mate alone during a war cause he wanted to prove himself....like..idk man if i had the choice between war and taking care of my pregnant wife i'd pick the wife (did he know she was pregnant? i've kind of forgotten by now)

Rowan's kid would've been hundreds of years older than Aelin.....just think abt that

Literally everything he did to Aelin during training in HoF

Their argument where he PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE

Threatened to whip Aelin...I repeat....Threatened to whip Aelin, an ex-slave....

Told Aelin it'd be better if she died 10 years ago (unprovoked?? bitch you met her like 2 weeks ago just cause she's getting on your nerves doesn't mean you gotta wish DEATH upon her)

Literally was relieved to find out she was only 19 because if she was a few years older she could've been THE CHILD OF HIS BEST FRIEND.

No issue with marrying the cousin of his best friend's child....Imagine if he hadn't met Aelin first.. If he'd met Aedion first, Aelin would've always been the relative of his friend's son to him

FOR THE RECORD i hate all of the SJM age gaps but rowan and aelin's specifically irks me because Aelin LITERALLY CALLS HIM OLD throughout the WHOLE SERIES

Literally tells Aelin he doesn't care about what she's been through and that she is nothing to him after she confronts him for leaving her

Puts Luca in danger by sticking him on to a frozen lake with a monster inside where he'll DIE if Aelin can't save him

Funnily enough, some of the only seemingly decent person guys in SJM 1. Are completely forgotten about in the books or 2. SJM had to make them violently unlikeable

Like we've got:

Tarquin, seemed like a pretty good guy, rightfully pissed that the IC stole his family heirloom, shows up like twice in the books (LET HIM COME BACK SARAH I LOVE HIM)

Tamlin, was pretty decent in book 1, was made violently unlikeable in book 2 onwards

Chaol, very strong morals, generally a good person, loves his wife, made violently unlikeable and boring in late CoM, HoF, and QoS (ToD is one of my favorite books in the series, will praise ToD till the day I die, my boy EARNED his own book)

Aedion, seemed like a good person, strong morals, spent years trading his dignity for the sake of Terrasen, loved his cousin above all else, made violently unlikable in KoA (even tho I think he was justified in being angry about it, i'd be SO pissed)

Sartaq, good guy, strong morals, Nesryn's chapters were some of my favorites in ToD, Sartaq is one of my favorite SJM love interests, i'll never forgive author lady for forgetting about him in KoA (tho i guess she forgot about everyone from ToD? Yrene and Chaol are the only important ones, she barely even mentions Nesryn even though Nesryn's BEEN an integral part of the gang since QoS, giving her the Suki from ATLA treatment)

[stromuprisahat]

Hey,

Could you do a meta on the similarities between Labyrinth (1986) and the Shadow and Bone Trilogy? I read through that one scene (Alina and Darkling Interactions on your blog) between Alina and the Darkling after her and Mal get captured and Alina has to bargain for his life and they speak about fairness and the way the public views them both (Chapter 21 of the first book, I believe). I vaguely remembered this type of conversation from another piece of media, and saw in your tags that you attributed it to Labyrinth. Honestly wondering how much the movie influenced the trilogy, as I feel like Alina was supposed to be a Sarah Williams type of character but got her character development strangled by the narrative. Honestly wondering if this makes Mal Toby (romance aside), because Alina fought hard for this man and chose him over the ‘glamorous’ life she could have lived with the guy with powers (Darkling/Jareth). Genya might be Hoggle (works for the bad guy before becoming loyal to the protagonist). Maybe this is all a stretch?

Sorry if this is weirdly formatted. Thank you so much!

No anon! Why?!

I've watched Labyrinth once, and didn't enjoy it, so I was considering passing this on someone else, but since you've delved into details, I just HAD TO rewatch it, because I can't stand not knowing what's going on! So, I'll type as a watch and this will get veeeeeery long.

First of all- I hate those ugly-ass puppets and scenes. I find them creepy, and not in the good way. I totally don't get the ?US? obsession with them, and yes- I've hated Sesame Street, when it got imported here, and I've always hated Czech attempts at copying such production (Táhni, Františku z Fanfárie a Jůheláci taky, když už jsme u toho.).

I feel like Labyrinth is one of those movies, where fanon became widely-accepted canon, because I just can't see plenty of stuff allegedly present.

Alina and Sarah certainly have two things in common- they live in their own version of the world, and they're unbearably immature spoiled brats, even though you'd expect more from them their age considered. Yet somehow, Sarah's so unreasonably whiny, she almost makes me love Alina. Perhaps if we'd age her up a little and gave her potentially world-saving powers, she could've taken the S02show!psycho's place. They seem more alike than the book girl.

I mean... I don't like children, and I wouldn't be such a bitch to a ?one? year old...

The baby was a spoiled child and wanted everything for himself…

The baby can barely stand and certainly doesn't seem able to talk. It doesn't have mental capacity to imagine "everything", sure as hell not want it.

…and the young girl was practically a slave.

Sorry, but a scene earlier I saw her room. I watch her father respect her privacy. Her evil step mother being nothing but polite and non-threatening. I come from a loving family, and I've been keeping eye on my eight-years-younger brother since he was born. To an extent- yes, but they just want her to make sure he doesn't burn down the house on accident or something. He's even fed for fuck's sake! That's hardly slavery. And no, she doesn't get a pass as a moody teenager. This is a spoiled brat behaviour.

Sarah's straight up lying to make herself the victim. That's very Alina. Or more precisely- it's very Alina's new mommy Ol' Bags, but then again it's been said before Alina would grow into Baghra in time.

Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be… …take this child of mine far away from me!

We have a better Czech ballad about children-stealing demon punishing short-tempered mother:

"Pojď si proň, ty Polednice, pojď, vem si ho, zlostníka!“ – A hle, tu kdos u světnice dvéře zlehka odmyká.

Kytice- Polednice (Karel Jaromír Erben)

“Come and get him, noon witch, come take him! I can bear no more!” And look, someone’s outside – a thumb is stealthily working the lock at the door.

A Bouquet: of Czech Folktales (transl. by Marcela Malek Sulak)

I went through it quickly, and the translation doesn't look bad, so it's available on libgen if you're interested.

Alina had her immortality and complementary powers, but what does Jareth see in Sarah is beyond me.

Sarah says she wants her brother back, but honestly- it sounds more like she doesn't want to get in trouble because of him. I don't know if it's only the acting, or if it's intentionally portrayed so, but she doesn't look like someone, who just realized they care about someone else.

It might be the whiny undertone in her voice. Irritating, if anything.

Yeah, a pissing puppet is exactly what I needed to see...

Genya is certainly prettier than Hoggle.

And doesn't piss in public.

The walls of the Labyrinth look like Terezín before reconstruction.

Sarah gets an advice and doesn't bother to delve into it. Another tiny similarity with Alina. Except Alina had her half-a-thought of doubt, and her advisor is a malevolent cunt with her own interests. The freaky worm seemed genuine in its desire to help.

Obligatory song and dancing. *shoot me, please*

The only way out of here is to try one of these doors. One of them leads to the castle at the centre of the labyrinth. And the other one leads to… …certain death.

Please, pick the death one...

"Helping hands"... every creep's wet dream...

Yeah, the evil hot accent isn't enough to make me like this villain. Fucking 80s...

Those depressive warning faces are probably the only thing I might even ~like~.

Okay, NOW he was hot.

Jareth and Sarah have the fairness conversation, when he shortens her time to punish her for her defiance. Aleksander and Alina's take place, when he wants her to face consequences of her own actions and accept responsibility. He's the wronged one there, because she didn't consider anyone or anything, when she chose to trust Baghra and ran off.

Sarah gets Hoggle to follow her by stealing his stuff. She gets the doorknockers to let her in by tricking the mumbling one into taking the unpleasant ring back into his mouth and doesn't even try to pull it out again, or knock without it attached. She's rather cruel in her thoughtlessness, isn't she?

Aleksander never shames Genya for wanting to be Alina's friend. He never blackmails her to help him. She's the one, who provokes his rightful wrath for no good reason.

I think Jareth might be what LB (sometimes) wants us to see in Aleksander. Except it's hardly what she shows by his actions, only what her characters describe.

Another difference- Aleksander doesn't only want Alina, he needs her for his plan to save his people. Jareth merely has the worst possible taste in women.

Okay, the dog making hoof-clopping noises also isn't the worst idea.

I'm kinda sorry Aleksander never tried to poison/drug Alina. That might be fun. Even the collaring couldn't really make her compliant, so he's technically nicer even in this aspect. I can see antis claiming he tried to woo her by showing her the splendor of Little Palace and giving her the centre role in Winter Fete, but the former wasn't different from Grisha in officer training, the later was the Crown's doing. He's even said to despise such events.

Sarah is a modern teenager. Alina's considered adult in her world. I got to the ball scene, where it's painfully obvious Sarah is a child in adult's clothes and make-up. I'm a bit surprised she was played by an actual teenager.

Alina starts off willing to do anything for Malyen, and ends up becoming just what he wants. Sarah starts off selfishly bullying a baby, only to turn 180° as soon as he's stolen, so excuse I'm not persuaded she means it. She doesn't manage it in next hour and half.

~ I have to face him alone. - But why? ~ Because that's the way it's done.

The logic is very Alina, but she never insists on facing the Darkling alone, except that one time she attempts murder/suicide.

Oh no, Aleksander would never wear something this teAsticleless

And no, I truly don't mean the colour.

I ask for so little. Just let me rule you… …and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say… …and I will be your slave.

Again, that's no Aleksander at all. He didn't want to rule Alina, he wanted to rule alongside her. He only tried to force her once she endangered his plans for his country and people.

He never promised her everything she's want, because the only thing she seems to want is to be left alone to live in obscurity with no expectations placed on her.

He doesn't want her to fear him and she never does. He doesn't even crave people's fear. He uses it as a tool, when there's no better option.

He doesn't mind Alina defying him, finds it attractive actually, as long as it doesn't ruin- once again- his plans for Ravka and Grisha protection.

The slave line actually reminds me of much better representation of book!Aleksander- I Wanna Be Your Slave by Måneskin.

I was pretty sure I've seen Cinema Therapy episode on Labyrinth I deeply agreed with, but can't find it, so... :(

[bisexualamy]

Your take on Power of Three is sooo good and correct! Underrated ep!

Thank you! "Power of Three" is another ep where I believe that I could Fix Her with minimal rewrites. I really think it's remembered poorly because the villain is underwhelming and underdeveloped. I think if they'd just simplified the villain, or turned the episode into a non-antagonist episode like they did with "Twice Upon a Time", more people would give it the credit it deserves. The point of "Power of Three" is not the villain.

Power of Three is an episode primarily concerned with what happens after people leave the TARDIS. Modern Who did this earlier, with Sarah Jane in "School Reunion", Jack in The Utopia Arc and later in Torchwood, and pretty much all of the farewell sequence in "End of Time." Chibnall did it later as well with the companion support group. But I think "Power of Three" is unique in that its tone is markedly more positive than previous examples. It's a lovely slice of life episode and a lovely ode to Amy and Rory, who've at that point were our companions the longest anyone's been a companion in Modern Who.

We get the Team TARDIS domesticity that many of us love. We get glimpses of Amy and Rory's friends back home, and the joy they take in "boring" things like weddings and dinner parties. It has the introduction of Kate Stewart and a lovely homage to the Brig. It has my favorite scene with Amy and Eleven by the Thames, where two people who have such difficulty being emotionally direct and genuine are able to now, after years of growing together, admit plainly that they love each other and they're terrified of losing each other. The episode is full of references to how the Doctor's fingerprints are all of Earth and its history, some good and some bad, but ultimately he is loved. His impact isn't just dramatic, be that saving the Earth or bringing about terrible tragedy. The Doctor is Amy and Rory's friend. The Brigadier's friend. Kate's friend. That's it.

I love "Power of Three" because, for the first time since the revival, we're seeing companions who grow beyond the Doctor, whose relationship grows and changes to include the Doctor less or differently, without tragedy being the catalyst. Amy and Rory aren't traumatized like Martha. They don't have their memories wiped like Donna. They aren't forcibly ripped away like Rose. They just built a life they like, and as they're growing up they're finding a lot of joy in all the different ways they can live their life.

Amy has learned to appreciate a life that is slower and simpler. Rory has grown confident both in his relationship with Amy and his career. Amy and Eleven explain the episode's point right at the beginning:

AMY: To think it's been ten years. Not for you, or for Earth, but for us. Ten years older. Ten years of you, on and off. ELEVEN: Look at you now. All grown up.

This is Amy's character arc, and Amy/Eleven's relationship arc, in a nutshell. This is the end of their story. And as much as I love "Angels Take Manhattan", I feel like really, in "Power of Three", Amy and Rory demonstrate that they're already ready to move onto the next phase of their lives. Maybe it could've ended less tragically. Maybe the Doctor could've visited them for decades and decades in the future. But they were never going to travel again like they did back in Series 5 and 6. And that can be wonderful.

[shut-up-danny-kun]

I know I've just made two Jareth appreciation posts but tbh, he is not my favorite thing about Labyrnth. Sarah and Jareth could've been replaced by whatever generic hero and villain and it still would've been one of my top 5 movies ever.

It's in the labyrinth itself. That shot where we see the walls stretching out into the distance with the Goblin City in the middle is forver ingrained in my brain. The way it has different sections, and puzzles to unlock a shortcut, and oubliettes, and underground tunnels - it feels like there's so much going on and we only get to experience 10% of it. I love the magical creatures that live inside and get up to their own shenanigans, and there's so many of them: from those creepy riders that attacked Ludo, to the talking faces whose job it is to scare people, to the dude with a creature for a hat (what was the deal with him, anyway?). The way it breaks the laws of space, but only sometimes, and there's no way to know when.

Coupled with the insane amount of detail and creative ideas, the practical sets sell the idea that you could actually go to the Labyrinth. It was my childhood dream! I cannot imagine the amount of labour that went into bringing a whole magical world to life.

[cowgurrrl]

If I Ever Were to Lose You

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TLOU2 SPOILED FOR YOU (also I was going to wait to post this but I like it so it’s getting posted 🥸)

Summary: “Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again.” - Vladimir Nabokov [1.1k]

Warnings: spoilers for tlou2 that’s all I’m gonna say, all the feminine rage, poor Tommy

The day is going by slower and slower as the patrolmen search for them. You knew Tommy and Joel were on patrol together, but they were supposed to be back by now. Ellie, Dina, and Jesse formed the groups before you could even wake up. You trusted him to take those late night/early morning shifts, you had no reason not to, but now the pit of anxiety is solid in your stomach. You would probably be throwing up if you had anything in your stomach. Maria tries to get you to eat, but you can't. You can't do anything until you know Joel and Ellie are safe.

Before the Outbreak, you heard stories of wives waiting for their husbands to come back from war. You listened to them recount nights of dread and fear. You sympathized with them when they told you the prayers they whispered despite never believing in God. They just needed to beg for their lives. They needed someone to hear them. And it still wasn't enough to bring their husbands back alive. You never thought you'd be like those wives who said prayers into non-believing hands, but here you are.

He told you not to go. He told you he had it handled. He told you it was fine, and you believed him. You've trusted Joel with your life before but always struggled with trusting him with his own. He could be reckless and get tunnel vision, especially when protecting his family. You've argued about it more than enough times. You thought he knew to keep his mouth shut and his head down, so he came home alive. You thought he knew the rules. You thought he could handle himself.

You hear the footsteps coming up the porch before you see the people. Maria calls after you as you rush out the front door to see Ellie standing there, blood dried to her face and hoodie. You don't think twice before wrapping her in your arms and crying with relief. She barely returns your hug, her weak arms shaking around you. "Who did this?" You ask when you pull away, putting your hands on her face. Ellie's not all there, that much, you can tell. She has the same faraway look in her eyes that she got after she killed David. She can't even look at you.

Tommy clears his throat behind her, and that's the first time you see the men standing on your porch. Tommy's bloody and bruised too, but he's alive. The rest of the patrolmen stare at their snow-covered boots, dried tears staining some of their faces. You search the faces three times and feel your body tremble when you can't find Joel.

"Tommy," you say, your voice breaking on the second half of his name. "Where is Joel?" Ellie flinches at your question and flees from your arms, retreating into the house. Bombs could've been falling from the sky, and it wouldn't have made you look away. Tommy says your name softly and tries to put his arms around you, but you push him away. "Somebody, please tell me where my fucking husband is!"

Two patrolmen step to the side to reveal the body bag they had been carrying. Your knees buckle under you. Tommy holds you up and says something in your ear. You think you hear Sarah's name but can't understand him over the ringing in your ears. You can't see anything except the black body bag in the snow. "Let me see," You say. The patrolmen look to Tommy like it's his decision, and you lose a piece of your sanity. "Let me see him!" You yell. Slowly and hesitantly, they unzip the bag and reveal Joel or what's left of him. You think they expected you to flinch or to run away at the sight of his body, but you don't. You drop into the snow next to him and stare at him. You reach for his hand and hold it tightly in yours, like the warmth from your body will be enough to breathe life back into his.

"What happened, baby?" You ask him, kissing his cold hand. The glint of his gold wedding band catches your eye, and you feel like you could shatter into a million different pieces. It's dented and stained with blood, but he's wearing it. He never wore his ring on patrol, but he wore it any other chance he got. He must've fallen asleep with it on and never taken it off this morning. He died wearing the ring you put on his finger, the one you used to promise you would love, respect, and honor him until he died. Until this moment. Except, your love doesn't fade looking at him even now. You squeeze his hand and sniff as tears fall into the snow next to him. "You said it was fine. You told me. You fucking told me you'd be home for dinner," you sob. You faintly register the patrolmen around you kneeling, but you can't look at them. You can only look at Joel. "I would've gone with you, you stubborn bastard, and we would've come home. We're a team. I should've been there. I should've… oh, God."

Your head drops to rest on his chest, and you scream so loud that the mountains seem to shake with the force. You don't care who hears. You want the earth to rumble with the depth of your grief. You want time to stop for everyone else the way it just stopped for you. Joel died, and you weren't there. Joel died, and you didn't get to say goodbye. Joel died, and there was no way to protect him after you promised him you would always have his back. You want more time. You deserve more time. He deserves more time.

You cry for a long time. Nobody tries to pull you away from Joel or soothe you. They just bear witness as darkness tingles at the base of your spine until your tears stop and you pick your head up. You kiss his hand one more time before laying it back down and holding your palm to the place where that big, soft heart used to beat.

"Who did this?" You ask. The patrolmen don't move or speak until you hear familiar footsteps approaching you.

"It was a kid. She couldn't have been much older than Ellie." Tommy says, and that makes you wince. Of course, Joel would soften for a young girl like Ellie. Of course, he would let his guard down around her. Of course, that would be his downfall.

"Where did she go?"

"She's a kid."

"That's not what I fucking asked you, Tommy," you stand and turn to face him. His Adam's apple bobs when he sees the deadly look in your eyes. "You tell me which way she went so I can rip her eyes out of her skull and then come back and bury my husband."

"I…It was a group. You can't take them on by yourself." One of the patrolmen speaks up, and your jaw clenches.

"If you make me repeat myself one more fucking time, we’re gonna need more body bags,” you snap. “Where. Did. She. Go.”

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Tag list (that I forgot I started): @evyiione @nyotamalfoy

[stunnasna]

Jj maybank - Come back to the sea ᡣ𐭩

Warnings; nothing really, not in this part at least. No use of yn

Summary: A kook who decided to become a pogue left her friends for boeatding school for a year and is back now. When she left both her and a certain blonde were heartbroken over something that happened before she left.

Part 1

It was scorching hot in the Outer banks. There was sounds of wheels rolling from an emerald eyed brunette's aluminum suitcase. She had just arrived back home to the Outer banks after leaving for boarding school a year prior.

She squeezed her eyes shut and embraced the smell , the smell of home. She brushed her hair back and put on a navy cap to keep the sun away from her face. The cap matched her off the shoulder t-shirt which she paired with a short denim skirt that revealed most of her tan legs and navy blue sneakers aswell.

After a few minutes of walking she was in front of a ginormous white house in figure 8, her house.

On the porch were her parents waiting for her in open arms. Her mother slightly pulled her to kiss her  smooth olive forehead before pulling Nessa into her arms.

"I've missed you baby, never leave us again" Her mother expressed in a soothing raspy voice.

"I've missed you too mom, I'm never leaving you and dad again" She reassured , her cheeks being on her mothers shoulder.

When she pulls away she glances at her dad, who was just looking at her for a few seconds before pulling her into his arms and placing a soft kiss on her temple.

After greeting her parents she went up to her room, while her dad was carrying her bags. She could've carries them herself, but he insisted since he was keen over the fact that his daughter was home after not seeing her for a year.

She jumped on her bed laying flat on her stomach shifting her gaze to the framed pictures on the bedside table. One was of her and her friends , the pogues. Just smiling and living the moment. She missed them, everytime they were in each other's presence she felt more alive than ever. She wanted to run over to the chateau where they usually hang out, jump into there arms telling them she's home.

The only thing keeping her from doing that was fear, fear that they wouldn't forgive her for leaving.

She looked at the other framed picture, it wasn't of the entire friend group. It was her on the shoulders of a blonde, Jj Maybank. She admired how happy they were, his dimples showing and her pearly white teeth all out while smiling. Her face saddened as tears shimmered in her eyes. Before she left, something happened between Nessa and Jj. Which broke both her and Jj's heart.

She was afraid of what he would think now that she's back, a year after she left. There was not a single day in that boarding school dorm where she didn't regret leaving.

Just then she heard a soft knock on her closed door. Thinking it was probably one her parents she gave permission for the person to come in.

It was infact not her parents but Sarah Cameron, your next door neighbor and good friend. She walked in with a bright smile on her face looking  other.

"Oh my god your actually back Ness, looking good as ever aswell. You shouldve immediately told me" Sarah squealed pulling Nessa into a tight hug.

It was nice seeing a welcoming face from someone other than her parents. They both lay on the queen sized bed giving each other recaps of what happened in the past year which they spent away from each other.

What happened between Nessa and Jj before she left that makes her feel a wave of sadness everytime she thought about him? He was her best friend just like the rest of the pogues. And why did she leave for boarding school in the first place? Keep reading to find out

Note from Alexia (the writer)

In this story Sarah is not a Pogue yet.

Nessa grew up with the Pogues so she wasn't just a random girl they befriended for a while.

Also this is the only part Ive written so far and i would like opinions on it before writing the next parts. This is my first time writing so i apologize if I'm not that professional , i will try to get better at it.

If you guys have any opinions or suggestions on what you want me to add to the story don't hesitate to tell me. Also if you see any mistakes, warn me.

Love , Alexia

[tloujm]

Part XXXIX: A Requiem or a Waking Dream

Author's Notes: Hello again, sorry for the long wait. My birthday was last week and I went on a trip to Ireland for it. Lovely place and lovely time of year to go. If I was a better person, I would have made the time to edit this so it come be posted before I left and you guys still reading this could've had something at the beginning of the month. Alas, please accept my apologies and Have a very Happy Thanksgiving! I am very thankful for you all who read anything I've put out there whether your just a lurker or you've liked, reblogged, commented, or sent me asks!

Summary: You and Joel have a talk about parenthood. Your and Theresa's friendship take a turn as you learn some new things about her.

Genre: Angsty

Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Only a moment after walking into the house, Joel caught your attention. Silently, he waved you into the kitchen. You instinctively looked around, trying to find a reason for the odd look on his face. Your eyes landing on Ellie drawing on the living room floor was your only inkling as to why Joel wanted a secret meeting.

Joel beckoned you further into the kitchen, standing near the fridge. “You know she snuck out last night?” Your brows furrowed. “What? How do you know? Why would she do that? Where did she even go?” “I don’t know where she went. I was this close to following her, but I didn’t want to…” He trailed off, looking for the right words. “You didn’t want to be overbearing.” He glared at you. He didn’t like being called that, but knew you were right. “I know I’ve been protective of Sarah and you. But the difference between you two is that she was a kid and kids need guidance. I’m not gonna apologize about that.” He shook his head, looking in her direction.  “I’m not asking you to. But how do you know for sure that she did? She left a note?” He turned back to you. “No. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I was up when I heard some noises coming from the backyard. I was about to go ‘round back to look around, make sure Ellie was alright, when I heard another person’s voice coming from her room. I stayed by the back door, peekin’ out the window, for a bit since it didn’t sound like she was in danger. I caught her and another girl leaving not too long after.”  “What was that about?” “I don’t know.” He scratched his beard. “I stayed up and kept an eye on the garage to make sure she got home alright. If she hadn’t come back by the time the sun started to peak, I woulda went out to go find her.” He paused to hear your response but you were still thinking. “I’d call waiting that long an act of restraint.” His eyes locked onto you until you returned the gaze. “She doesn’t know that I know. I wanted to tell you first.” “Wow, I never thought I’d have to deal with teen antics so soon; She’s just a preteen. I’ve barely experienced motherhood in general.” Your hand passed over your belly. “You began experiencing it as soon as she showed up at our gates.” He said softly. “How do you think we should handle this?” 

Joel already knew how he would have handled it if he was taking care of Ellie alone; if it was Sarah before the outbreak. Sarah knew better than to try that with him, though he feared that she still would one day try because of how absent his demanding job made him as a single parent. Despite parenthood being new to you altogether, Joel realized that it was a new experience for him as well in a sense. Even though Sarah was only slightly older than Ellie is now, the experience of raising a teen was stolen from him. Also, he’d never really co-parented before. Sarah’s mom became uninvolved so quickly that it had almost always been him making the final decisions surrounding every part of his daughter’s life. Even with the help of his family, he had no choice but to let full parent mode become second nature and he mentally prepared for that to last the rest of his life. 

It felt weird watching Ellie leave the house in the middle of the night with a stranger and not immediately do anything about it. Instead of reacting automatically, he reminded himself that, for the first time in his life, parenthood was a responsibility that he now shared equally with someone else. He couldn’t bring himself to wake you in the moment since he knew you often tossed and turned, struggling to find a good position to sleep with your belly. He also knew you’d get upset with him if he acted rashly. Joel just settled on keeping watch like he was up in the gate tower until there was a good time to talk to you. 

Your mind raced with scenarios, looking for the best way ahead. You were embarrassed at how long you took, standing there silently in front of a seasoned parent. “Baby, you look tired. Why don’t we leave it until tomorrow? She’s safe at home now. That’s what matters. We technically haven’t set ground rules for her here, so I don’t think it’d be fair to punish her. Just a firm warning with clear communication on our expectations. If she has concerns about living here with us, I want her to feel comfortable enough to tell us, so she wouldn’t feel the need to sneak out again. What do you think?” Your doe eyes looked up at Joel. Your genuine effort and sweet voice made him melt, but before he could answer, you kept going. “Maybe we’ll talk to her during dinner? I’ll tell Theresa that I need to be back earlier. You know what? I don’t know if I like that. I don’t want her to start thinking that family dinners have negative connotations if we only get together for one when she’s in trouble. Maybe we can talk to her right before dinner and then all can be resolved by the time the food is ready and we can all have a nice meal with a nice dessert. Maybe.” You rambled.  He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Tomorrow sounds like a good plan.” You felt him breathe out a sigh on your skin.  “What were you doing up anyway?” “I told you, I couldn’t sleep.” “Yeah, but why?” Joel shrugged while rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know...the house could get broken into, the settlement can get attacked, you can go into labor at any moment…But it was a good thing I was up anyway.” “Aww, your daddy senses were tingling.” You said jokingly. “Excuse me, Darlin’, my what?” His eyebrows shot up. You could’ve sworn you even saw a little blush.  “Like how Spiderman has his Spidey senses that alerts him to danger.” Joel Always-horny-for-you Miller took it as a sign to flirt. “How about you meet me upstairs and…” He leaned forward and cocked a brow. “I can show you how much you make my daddy senses tingle.” “Eww.” The two of you turned to see Ellie at the kitchen opening. “All I wanted was a snack, not the intro to a poorly scripted porno.” She mumbled clearly under her breath. Either Joel didn’t hear or was too mortified to respond. You, however, had to laugh a bit. The two stood frozen in place and watched as she moved around the kitchen for a snack. It wasn’t until she went back into the living room did you pull Joel down to reach his ear. “I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t think—.” “I agree, not my best work.” He whispered back.  “But I still picked up what you were putting down.” You wiggled your eyebrows in a comically romantic way. “So you still wanna…” His eyes darted between you and the stairs. “If you promise to rub my back first.” “I’ll get the tallow butter.” He began to jog out the kitchen when he turned back and said in a low tone. “But how does she know about porn, (Y/N)? Ellie,” He turned to the kid kicking her feet as she ate. “What do you know ‘bout—” “Don’t worry about it.” You rushed over to shut him up. He turned back to look at you as if he hadn’t only known her for a fraction of her life, looking like he failed at shielding her youth from corruption. “Huh?” She spoke up. “It’s ok, Ellie, go back and draw. It’s not important.” You succeeded in not laughing but still couldn’t hide the smile on your face. “We’ll be upstairs if you need us.” “Do I need to wear my headphones?” Ellie piped up with a mischievous smile. 

*********************

“Have a seat.” Theresa said as they entered her home. 

Earlier the next day, she met you at your house and the two of you set off on another one of your walks. She pushed the stroller all the way into Saoirse’s room. You mentally noted how the baby slept through the entire walk and seriously began to consider talking to Joel about the Swedish nap thing. 

“It’s so cold isn’t it? I’ll put the kettle on for some tea then maybe start a little fire. How does that sound?” She pushed the stroller all the way into the nursery before coming right back out. “Let me help you.” You began to hoist yourself up. “I can get the tea while you get her.”  “No, no. You’ve had enough physical activity so far. I know walking helps induce labor but I remember what it was like being that far along, feeling like a grapefruit was just always wedged between my hips.” She dipped into the kitchen, but continued to talk at a decent volume. “This will only take a moment and besides, as a mother, you come to really appreciate when your baby finally falls asleep. Sometimes I don’t even risk waking her up and just let her sleep in the stroller.”  “That makes sense.”  Theresa came back in with a plate of crackers and an open tin of sardines. “I know this doesn’t hold a flame to the dinner you cooked, but I figured if you were peckish and wanted a snack…” “I appreciate it.” You never shied away from seafood but certain fish you absolutely didn’t like. Before you were pregnant, sardines were one of them, but now, it is one of your cravings. A low whistling traveled from the kitchen. “Oh! Let me go shut that thing off before it wakes her.”

In no time, Theresa came back in with two hot cups of tea. She reminded you of your quintessential 1950s housewife, juggling a baby while accommodating guests all by herself. She seemed to do it all with such ease, an ease you aspired to get the hang of soon now that you have a growing family of your own. As you looked at her, you figured all she needed was a red lip, pumps and an A-line dress and then she’d fit perfectly into one of those technicolor sitcoms. 

Just like a perfect housewife, she flitted away to attend to her daughter next. And just like a greedy house guest, you dug into the food and drink, not even waiting for your host to come back. You nursed the tea until it was cool enough to down. Your cup was almost empty by the time you began to wonder what was keeping her. It couldn’t have been Saoirse, you thought, as you didn’t hear any cries telling you that she was now awake. Instead, the house was completely silent. It almost felt like you entered the Twilight Zone as the air felt so still. You stopped just shy of calling out for Theresa and instead opted to meet her in the nursery to see if she needed help with anything. 

Embarrassingly, it took you quite a few tries to hoist yourself off the couch. You hadn’t realized it until you began to move, but the couch felt extra deep than before. It was as if gravity was your worst enemy at that moment. When you finally made it onto your feet, a wave of dizziness washed over you. It almost knocked you back down onto the couch, but you were determined to not struggle and focused on grounding yourself for another couple moments. It'd been about ten minutes since Theresa left you alone. You not only needed to see if she was ok, but now you debated asking her to go to the stable and call the infirmary for Dr. Carson. After a few steps, the dizziness began to settle so you chalked it up to overexerting yourself on the couch. 

Theresa was silently standing in front of a dresser with a series of vials splayed across the top. From where you stood at the doorway, she seemed to be in a trance. She hadn’t moved an inch, none-the-less blink. Your eyes wandered and took in the rest of your surroundings. It didn’t seem like a nursery, but a regular room with a pristinely made bed. Not being able to even see the stroller, you pushed the door all the way open to get a better view. The hinges creaked and like a magician snapping their fingers, the sound cut through the silence and ripped Theresa away from her deep thoughts and back into the room. Her head whipped in your direction.

“Oh, I thought this was Saoirse’s room.” Your voice came out calm but your head was racked with questions. Your brain was starting to get so fuzzy that you couldn’t make sense of what you were seeing. “Oh, (Y/N).” Theresa blankly stared at you. “Oh no…(Y/N).  Your eyes ripped away from the rope and bucket of cleaning supplies on the floor to meet your friend’s. “I came to check if you were ok. What’s wrong?” “You were meant to wait for me. I told you to have a seat. I told you that I didn’t need help.” Theresa tried to say with a smile on her face but the words came through gritted teeth.   “I know, you told me to rest but—” You began. “You weren’t meant to come in here.” She cut you off. You didn’t know how to respond, you were so confused. You just stood there watching her watch you. Her head tilted as she studied your eyes. You hadn’t even realized they were drooping until her gaze made you self conscious. “You know what Gavin used to say to me? ‘How do you always stay so cool, calm and collected?’. Gavin is the leader of my old settlement. What a compliment that was from someone like him. That was when I respected him. That was before…well that part is beside the point. The point now is that things are not yet ruined. I mean I don’t enjoy being thrown off my path, but it's ok. We’re ok, (y/n).  Here,” She walked closer to you. “Why don’t you have a seat with me?”  “Why am I…” You shook your head with furrowed brows, suddenly becoming conscious of how your legs felt like jelly instead of flesh and bone. “That’s ok. You won’t feel any worse than this.” “Did…did you drug me?” “I helped you. You were tired of being pregnant right? I’m ready for the baby to come, aren’t you?”

Your mind was racing a mile a minute, so much so that you didn’t know what to say next. You didn’t protest as Theresa guided you to sit on the edge of the bed. You were afraid of falling forward and landing on your belly but you were also now afraid of her.

*******************

You were jolted awake by a powerful cramp. A long groan escaped your lips. Your eyelids were so heavy that you hadn’t noticed Theresa hovering over you at the side of the bed. You hadn’t noticed that she was wearing an apron and gloves. Hadn’t noticed how your arms and legs were tied to the bed posts. Nothing came clear at first. Just the intense contractions of your uterus. 

Even when you felt two fingers jam their way inside you aggressively searching for God knows what, you assumed that you were in the middle of a fever dream. You finally found the strength to tilt your head down and found Theresa sitting by the foot of the bed. She smiled up at you as she noticed you become a bit more lucid. 

“Welcome back.” Just as swiftly as she entered her fingers, she removed them. “You’re almost ready. Don’t worry, I’ll be here the whole time. I have every intention of catching the baby though this isn’t the route I wanted to go. Cutting you open would have been quicker as time is of the essence here,” She began, talking more to herself than to you. “But, frankly, I don’t trust myself. In hindsight, I would have focused a little bit less on acquiring drugs and a little more on honing my surgical skills.” She shook her head while moving some things around. “I’ve witnessed the horrible but ultimately life saving effects of a C-section. If done improperly, the baby could be left with scars or worse and I could never risk my baby like that. A mother should know her own limitations or else she can not properly care for the child. No, no. Don’t do that. Stay awake for me, (y/n).” Theresa took off the gloves and moved to the dresser with vials and syringes. “Yeah…I gave you the right dose.” She whispered to herself before turning to you. “Your body will push without you but it will be exponentially more slow and therefore that much more painful for the both of us, so I need you to stay awake now ok?”

Theresa moved to the head of the bed to sit you up and add pillows behind your back. Further, she untied the ropes by your ankles and like a doll moved your legs around as you could barely feel them. 

You were surprised as to how quickly the baby was coming. As painful as it was, you didn’t want the woman you thought as your best friend to handle your baby. It was even more painful to fight the contractions but still you tried, holding out hope that someone would miraculously barge into the room and save you.  

With dread, you had to give in to your body; it was a fight you couldn’t win. It felt like death was lingering over you as you continued to try and hold the crowning baby in. You were determined to not let it take either one of you. If it weren’t for the ring of fire, you were convinced the cocktail of drugs would have made you pass out for good. 

You couldn’t help but hold your breath with every push. Your heart pounded loud and erratic. Just when it felt like your chest was about to explode, you felt a great sense of relief. For a moment, you thought that pop was in fact your heart and that you’d died but enough pain continued in the background to remind you that you were still there in Theresa’s house. From what little words you could hear over your thumping heart, she announced the head was out. Encouragingly, she said that the delivery was almost over. 

In your dazed state, you were unable to keep track of time and had no idea how much longer it took to birth the rest of your child but knew it was over when you felt an even greater sense of relief. The feeling was so intense and, because of the drugs, absolutely euphoric. It felt like a blanket was covering your entire body in warmth and darkness. It was like being held tightly, tucked under the breast of your own mother after having a good cry. How could you not welcome such an embrace? It was hard to leave even if you wanted to.

[bangtanjjks]

there isn't a day in my life after I read acowar where I am not mad about the stupid death bargain between feysand (at least when the universe decided to remind me that it exists, like today. after I read about it again in a fic. it gave me flashbacks. bad ones)

..... is it romantic? YES. GODDAMN. IT'S SO FUCKING ROMANTIC!!!! YOU DIE I DIE??? SIGN ME THE FUCK UPPPPP!!!!!

BUT IT'S ALSO SO FUCKING STUPID IT HURTS ME TO THE CORE OF MY SOUL. like. like. Fey I could understand. she's 20. TWENTY. tf does she knows about leading a whole court of another species? she barely lives as a fae for one year. I won't be fooled into thinking she knows enough on how to basically run a country (hell, nesta probably knows more about running something since she's the first born daughter, mama Archeron probably taught her how to run the household, that's more than what fey would know.)

.

fey is 20 something, she just saw her mate dies in front of her, that's traumatizing. I get it. she wouldn't want to go through that again. emotions are thick so common sense would take a back seat in that situation. BUT RHYSAND???? 500+ YEARS OLD? who's probably been a high lord for more than half of it?? YOU'RE A LEADER BRO. YOU DON'T THINK TYING YOUR LIFE TO SOMEONE ELSE COULD BE CATASTROPHIC???? like.... did he not think of his court, of his people, the very same ones he wanted to protect so bad he'd become amarantha's whore, when making that bargain? what if one day both the high lord and high lady dies. THEN WHAT??? so baffling.

why is that bargain even written in the first place, what is its purpose for the plot progression? Sarah could've just write a hot and steamy feysand post-we-died-but-not-really-war sex and be done with it without the stupid bargain.

almost ruined the ship for me... and then SJM pulled the pregnancy bs. and that was that. that severed any love i had for canon feysand. I love Feyre. I love Rhys. but them together*? no thanks🙏🏼

and that is all. I just... I read a fic with this death bargain mentioned. and now I'm having flashbacks of being 19, stressed out of my mind for finals, and thinking I could find joy and relax when I finally had time to read acowar. only to find out about the bargain. and then acosf happened and..... I haven't touch any books SJM released ever since lmao. I was that betrayed😭

*in canon. I would still eat up any fanon feysand works like it's nobody's business. that's MY high lord and high lady!!!!