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aquarium-ina-bag · 11 months

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Where Danger Finds Me, it Follows with Tides - 7

'Cause you live in my day dreams ch. 7

Word count: 2.7k

Relationships: Wednesday x Reader (She/they)

Warnings: Mention of blood, pain, bullets.

A/N: So sorry I took so long had a project anyyywaayyyy, if I do breaks again Im able to do drabbles so ask away. I have an Idea for a side au with Jenna, just confused about how I'm gonna use this character R and actor R (Gasp spoilers, wtv) enjoy, give suggestions yatta yatta.

Small conversations spread among the bar, bottles hitting stained, polished wood and smooth granite countertops, and low music playing. It definitely wasn’t a big bar, but it was the home of drunken souls in the outskirts of Jericho. And tonight it housed hopeful, evil, and grieving souls.

The door swung open, hitting the bell. A small three-man group raised their heads to see the newcomer as the bartender gave his regular warm smile to the eccentric man.

"Evenin’ James, usual?" The bartender cleaned a glass, ready to serve.

"Nah nah, I need somethin’ tougher; I’m ina surprising mood tahnigh’ hit me hard." James was practically jumping and shaking.

The bartender started to pour him a fireball.

"Well, gee, it seems like you've got something heavy already." He slid the glass across the counter.

James quickly caught it and brought himself to the table of three men. He threw his head back and drank with speed. "Fellas, I got that damn thing that's been killin’ my livestock." He slammed his hands on the wooden table.

The three of them laughed, and one spoke up. "The fucking big creature you saw, with the big claws and skin like a lagoon?" Dune made gestures to mock James' description.

"Nah na! It’s real, but this one had wings! My god, the size of them nevah seen before, the tips nosebleed red, and it-it-it got deeper colah at the base." James tossed around his arms to depict this creature of the night "OH! And-and-and when I shot the bitch, the speed it took was incredible! Even though I shot it in the wing, damn it was moving maybay 300 miles?"

The group looked at the man in front of them like he was on shrooms, he sure acted like it. The bigger male chuckled, "So you’re saying some big ass peregrine falcon, has been taking your sheep, and when you shot it, it left at the speed of 300 miles per hour?"

"No, no, Harlow, it gave me my sheep back! It done dropped the sheep back in the pen, ALIVE! The damn hooves were painted pink! Fuckin pink!" James explained.

The men were invested now. "You got two creatures in your fences now?" Harlow asked.

"Yes! One is killing them, the other is saving them. Like an angel." James fawned over his findings.

Chuck took a sip of his beer before speaking. "Well, you said it was dark and bloody lookin’, don’t sound like no angel to me."

"What would I call it then?" James questioned his ideas.

"I say call it a blood hawk, it’s easy to identify," Harlow said as he toyed with the ring of condensation on the wood. "Also, go buy one of them cameras that videos motion."

The bartender couldn’t hold his words anymore. "Say, you know what’s known for having creepy abnormalities, that Nevermore school miles away. That lagoon creature you were talking about James, I think it’s been seen there plenty of times."

The bartender pushed a glass towards a shaggy brown-haired man, his hair long, as were the scars on his face as if he were mauled by a beast. The man’s clothes looked so mismatched and ripped; he had a beard starting to grow; and he looked homeless but still had money to buy a drink. This man couldn’t help but listen to the conversation; he made clear, surprised expressions at the words ‘Nevermore’ ‘Blood hawk’ ‘sheep’ and ‘alive’. All this man could do was hum in acknowledgment.

"I’ll look into it once I get home." James smiled and continued to change the subject.

—————-

"Wednesday I know you usually don’t regret things, but I honestly feel so awful about hurting Y/n," Enid said with her chin on her school desk, her body droopy.

Sure, that is true Wednesday doesn’t feel regret, but everything she regrets on her mind is rooted in because of you, she regrets ever talking to you, accepting your dual, working on the project with you, letting you see something vulnerable in her—she regrets a lot when it comes to you.

"They said it was fine." What Wednesday really regretted was letting you leave and trusting that you would take care of yourself. She hasn’t seen you all morning. The thought of you bleeding out that whole night banged on her cranium.

Enid turned to face the goth, laying her cheek on the cold wood. "You don’t really believe that." Wednesday regrets not smothering her roommate, and Enid started to understand Wednesday’s ‘signs’. The raven stayed silent, keeping it that way the whole period.

When it was over, she took her free period to confirm that Enid hadn’t murdered you. She checked the gym; you weren’t there. Wednesday looked where you feed birds; no luck. She entered your dorm to find clutters of paper and files scattered around your desk. As if a voice was pulling her into the room, Wednesday walked in and shut the door behind her, making a careful walk across the room to your desk. The floorboards creaking had an unusual pattern as if someone were in the room with her. The raven was on edge but still curious; determined to find out why you were gone.

The goth inspected the papers on your desk. Pictures of the farm you two went to, papers containing information about the owner of said farm. What really stuck out were documents from the U.S. government. How in the world were you able to access something like this? The thought that you were taken by the FBI could make her chuckle. Wednesday shuffled the small stack, trying to get them back in order. When the order was found, Wednesday couldn’t stop reading.

In brief, the documents explain how an ‘anomaly’ that was captured in December of last year escaped a government vehicle, killing four of the six men in said vehicle. This creature never made it to the lab for testing, questioning, and possible execution. This creature could be conjured by American citizen Tyler Galpin.

Tyler was out, and that was him; he was still lurking in the towns, waiting for his next victim.

Wednesday looked around for anything that could reveal she was here, and when she turned to the glass screen door, a shine drew her in like everything else in this room.

Unlocking it and stepping onto the concrete, she looked down to find a bullet that was almost perfectly clean. Why would you have a perfect bullet here? The casing was gone, so this was fired.

This curious black cat bent down to pick up the fired bullet. Her head was shot backward, and scenes dashed and flashed across her vision.

Fingers that weren’t yours loading ammunition in a firearm; the bullet flying into feathered flesh, then deeper into warm blood and muscle; with her perspective being the bullet, Wednesday felt layers decompressing her. From what she could guess, it was feathers falling off, then skin, then muscles. The bullet dropped in a pool of blood; something or more of a surplus made a horrific shriek as if it was getting brutally attacked. She couldn’t tell what made it, and the warmth of blood left her after the vision ended.

Once the vision was over, Wednesday moved her head back. It felt as if someone was beating her skull; that never happens with visions, but that aside, what did she just see? Wednesday began to make a hypothesis, clearly, this was past, not future, and this bullet wasn’t yours, but she couldn’t be sure if you fired the weapon, it was shot in some bird, but why was the bullet removed like that, layer by layer? What was that screaming?

The girl’s head was pounding, and before she left your room, she took the bullet, the papers. She wanted to find some type of DNA in the room, but her head said otherwise.

—————-

Something was wrong; your brain was triggering some sort of defensive reaction, and you didn’t understand what was triggering it. You’re trained to keep your brain in full control, to know when you’re being psychologically attacked, and currently, the right and left sides of your brain are disagreeing with something. Before you can get the problem fixed, you need to know the problem. That could wait though.

"I really need to train back home again." You muttered to the wind, and it raced past as if responding.

You smiled as you continued to walk along the side of a gravel road. This scenery wasn’t better than the woods with Wednesday; did you even look at the view when you were with Wednesday? What were you focused on?

This constant questioning of yourself was scaring you. Your family described you as a person, with no limits, but you had to be in control of your whole body, and recently you weren't. Maybe that’s why you're triggering a defensive response.

You stopped at a small home surrounded by flat, crop-growing land, knocking on the door before you looked yourself up and down. With a small smirk, you thought the outfit looked like a hitman in the winter decked out in dark, puffy clothes. Hey, it was close to the beginning of winter.

Once the door opened, a taller man, maybe 2 inches taller than you, greeted you with a grimace.

"Well, who the hell is you? Matrix-looking kid. All these damn new fashion trends." His accent was a deep Southern one.

You chuckled before speaking, "You, James Turner?" Your hands shuffled in that dark, puffy jacket, pulling out a picture of the man in front of you.

"Who’s asking?" He got closer to you, and smelled like booze.

You've shown him the photo now. "There’s a problem if someone did." You murdered someone, sir?" He could have the other night if your thesis was right.

"I ain’t kill nobody, did I?" Bingo. James started to get a little scared, you could read it off his body language.

"Well, I heard a complaint about some gunfire, and when I asked around for you, I heard you shot something." Part of that was a lie, you didn't really ask, just lots of tabs closing at a bar.

James looked like a child getting caught with their hand in a cookie jar; he was going to break. "Listen, somethin’ been stealing my animals. I was waiting to shoot it last night, then this big bird-like person dropped a sheep in the pen, and I shot at it."

Your face scrunched in confusion. "Why would you shoot something, dropping your sheep back off? And you said human-looking? You were going to just kill a person like that?" You took steps forward, and James kept backing up until both of you were in the house.

"I jus wan-tah to catch em’ , Ay I don’t even think that was them! Something else was killing my animals, it was green and-and-and large, eyes like a bug." Tsk tsk James, the hole he dug just kept getting bigger.

You were so close in his space that he tripped into a seat. "So you shot something that you wanted to catch even though it helped you; it wasn’t even the creature that was killing! What were you going to do, James? When you caught it, that is."

"I I I." He sure does stutter you noted, "I was gonna report it for stealing."

You gripped the table, did it crunch? James questioned. "What’s the story, Turner? You said it gave back…"

"You’re right It was, it was." He was sweating badly.

"Good, so you understand that you committed attempted murder? Correct?" Your voice was deathly low. "It can be a pretty hefty sentence, James."

He watched you move around his house, preparing a glass of water, before sitting across from him.

"I’m going to jail?" He looked on the verge of tears.

You paused before speaking, a clicking sound filled your silence. "Yes, if you refuse to comply with me." You took a long sip of water, making Turner wait in anguish. "Heard you’re gonna set up cameras around this place, I want you to set up cameras around the woods, set up baits, get as much footage of this killing creature as you can, and hand all of the footage, pictures, and what you baited with to me. Sound simple?"

"Course, anything yes, please, I jus don’t wanna go to jail." He nodded like a bobblehead.

"Perfect, and don’t think you can escape this; I've got all the information to make a court session last less than 10 minutes." You smiled and finished the glass. Quickly grabbing a pen and paper, you wrote one of your numbers and labeled it, 'Turn in footage work and info here'

"Cya round James Turner." And just like that, after scaring this older male, you left, walking back to Nevermore.

———————

This headache wanted to make Wednesday have a lobotomy or struck like Zeus to get Athena out. She could barely piece together the papers in front of her. Enid watched her struggle to work, pointing it out like always.

"What’s up with you? I feel like this is easy."

"My head has been in pain since I had that vision, usually that doesn’t happen," Wednesday explained as she moved the sheets and note cards around the board.

Enid knew that if the pain was really bothering her, this headache was something from hell. "Hm, do you want to take something? Or maybe take a break?"

"I did; it got worse." Wednesday's face barely scrunched as she spoke. "I don’t need a break either."

Thumps on the door broke the conversation; they both looked at each other, then Enid went to open it.

You stood there with a toothy grin and said, "Hey Sinclair, where’s Wednesday?"

"I don’t know if she would be up for a date, Y/n, she’s got a raging headache." Enid knew Wednesday stole from you, so she had to make somewhat of an excuse.

You paused for a second. "I, uhm, no, I’m not here for that, she has something I ne-"

Enid shut the door in your face and said, "They know!" Whisper yelling to the goth. All she did was nod and signal to let you in.

Enid slowly opened the door to let you in; once you did, Wednesday’s now migraine blared. She gripped the side table near her.

"Evening Addams, I’m guessing you know why I’m here." You walked closer to her, maybe 5 inches away from her now.

"Why," she paused to take a breath, "why do you have them?"

You raised a brow and said, "I could ask the same." You whispered, getting closer to her ear. "You can get in trouble if you have them; I know how to take care of them." Also, you have a vision?"

Wednesday wanted to make sure this wasn’t some fake whispering again, so she clutched the bottom of your shirt. For you, it seemed like desperation. She released you and went to take the papers.

"Yes." Wednesday handed the papers back. Just like that, the pain was gone, and she could think straight now.

"Doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?" This no-distance whispering with you was going to kill Wednesday; it made her feel sick again.

She slowly nodded, and with that, you backed up and said your goodbyes, then left.

So many holes—how did you know about the papers? Where have you been all day? How did the vision connect with the headaches? How did you fix it? What trouble did you mean? Why do you have those papers? What were you going to do with it? Her loud thinking was blocked.

"So no more evidence?" Enid asked.

"The bullet—I still have it."

"Well, it is like almost 12. Let’s look at it tomorrow. Also, who comes to someone’s door at 11? Also, what did she tell you? I couldn’t hear, over the sound of you two practically making out with each other's whispering. Wait a minute, you didn’t even whisper; you just nodded. What was that about? Whatever, that's a question for tomorrow. I’m too tired, night Addams." Enid threw herself onto her bed and crashed to sleep.

Wednesday, on the other hand, couldn’t do the same; she needed to get answers.

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x y/n #Where danger finds me it follows with tides #WDFMIFWT

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magicalgirlmascot · 11 months

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May or may not have been inspired to create the KNPS Toa in Hero Forge. Probably also gonna do the Turaga. I’m def curious as to your thoughts on everyone’s appearances, wanna see how what I have so far compares.

I am in TEARS please please please show me when you're done!!!

I've been kind of deliberately vague about their appearances in the fic itself because last time I wrote a big long human!Bionicle fic where I was more specific about their appearances I. wound up hating it later lol. I will say though that my Bionicle Sports Anime designs aren't necessarily what I have in mind when writing! (Those are mostly just for drawing Bionicle fanart without having to draw robots and possible eventual comic reasons.)

I do have some stuff in mind, though! I'm putting it under a readmore because it wound up getting fairly long lol

Tahu: redhead, toned and fairly beefy on account of the MMA but not like dehydrated about it, jeans, t-shirts, and button-downs with the sleeves rolled up kinda guy

Kopaka: my brother thinks he should be albino but I'm on the fence there, either way he does have blue eyes and light hair cut pretty short, glasses, tall and thin

Gali: petite, curly hair usually pulled back from her face, wears a lot of long, flowy clothes (cardigans, skirts, etc.)

Onua: short af, fat, muscular, hairy, I've made Gimli jokes before but I honestly do picture him looking like Senshi DungeonMeshi with less beard, almost exclusively wears black jeans, glasses are not prescription but to help with his light sensitivity

Pohatu: tall, runner's build (muscular legs, kind of average weight distribution tbh), thick brown hair that he's been growing out, tends towards muted colours and earth tones

Lewa: fucking beanpole, tall, thin, and gangly, hair is a bird's nest 99% of the time and he has given up trying, wears green almost to the complete exclusion of other colours, loves himself some good cargo pants

Vakama: glasses and tidy beard, greying hair, middling height, wears a lot of old man sweaters/cardigans

Nokama: taller than Matau but shorter than Vakama, hair is going grey but she dyes it, carries herself with grace and poise, it's. I do picture Lucretia Adventurezone a little bit while writing her ngl

Matau: short!!! absolute manlet and either mad about it or chill with it depending on which is funnier in context, wears loud shirts

Onewa: was not a cane user at the start of the story but is one now on account of his bad back, growing his beard out, worst case of resting bitch face you've ever seen, decently tall

Whenua: tallest Turaga, thick glasses, has worn a dress shirt and tie to work every day for the last 20+ years and isn't going to stop now even if his husband makes fun of him for it >:(

Nuju: average height, long fingers, went white by age 35 (claims it's from stress but it just runs in the family, Kualus was also fully white by 35 and Matoro probably will be too), dresses nicely but not a full shirt and tie like some people

Also you didn't mention them but bonus characters bc I've been thinking about them:

Takua: built like Lewa (tall and gangling), dyes his hair blue, fashion choices are "the colours gave me a headache so I bought it immediately"

Jaller: short king, blonde, probably the most athletic kid in the class

Hahli: shorter than Takua but still pretty tall, wears jeans and sturdy clothes, solidly built

Krahka: I mean sometimes she's a fox and sometimes she's got six arms and tits the size of her head, she can look however she wants

Again please please show me when you're done!!!! I would like to see it

#bionicle #WEH THANK YOU??????#knps

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karatecaulfield · 1 year

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Could I get a ST ship? I'm a bisexual man (so any gender is fine!) in my 20s, INFP, and my sun/moon/rising is all Aquarius (and I act like it tbqh). I'm generally more of an intellectual (I'm in grad school studying forensics) or artsy (I play guitar in a doom metal band and have a couple of published short horror stories), but my secret jock talent is fencing.

I'm 5'11 and have long (mid chest length) brown hair + a reasonably full beard. I generally wear comfortable clothes (bc I'm in labs a lot), but usually include denim, leather, and/or band shirts. I also have lots of body mods (I think I'm at 15 tattoos and 8 piercings now?). One of my big hobbies is tabletop gaming, although that's partly because my best friend designs them for a living and likes to test things with me. I also love cooking- my resolution for 2022 was to master the 5 French mother sauces, and I totally succeeded! I also love hiking, reading really silly fluffy romance books, and making cocktails My friends think of me as somebody who's dependable and has a strong moral compass, although I can be stuck in my ways sometimes. They also think of me as somebody calm and chilled out (partly bc I'm a bit of a stoner ngl), although when I panic I can work myself up easily. While I'm generally introverted, I actually really love parties when I have the energy for them- I really like meeting new people and getting them chatting about the things they like!

Jonathan Byers! I think he’d really appreciate someone who’s more artistic and creative. He’d love to spend time taking turns showing each other works in progress or newly finished projects. You’d be the first person to see his newly developed pictures, and he would be your number one fan for any creative endeavors you have started. While he doesn’t have any tattoos or piercings himself, I think he would be really interested in those who do. He’d absentmindedly trace your tattoos and you would often catch him looking at your shiny jewelry. In a relationship, the biggest thing for Jonathan would definitely be dependability. He can get really caught up in the moment sometimes, and it’s helpful to have someone to ground you when that happens. We all know that he has no issues with the devil’s lettuce (he’d probably say “salad”) and would really enjoy having someone new to smoke with. Even though he can get stuck in his own head sometimes when he’s having a hard time, he’s really good at working down someone who’s panicking or anxious. The dynamic would be very balanced and fair between the two of you.

A/N- thank you so much for the request! I’m so sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoyed this. if it isn’t what you were hoping for, please feel free to request again<3

#requests open #stranger things #ship requests #stranger things ships #jonathan byers

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noro-noro-noro · 2 years

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dream 1: kengan spinoff manga that had xia ji in it dream 2: only i can save the world by doing the star ritual or whatever

1. kengan spinoff(?) about some girl and her bf. they had an indoor pool and a freaky neighbor who would peep on the gf in the pool all the time. they confronted him but he was just weird about it & they decided to build a fence and call the cops right after the bf got back from his work trip. when he was gone creepo snuck into the house to try & get the girl, but she was friends with kengan members so she called them & a bunch of people showed up. I specifically remember Adam and raian but there were a few more. fem akoya too?? and takayama with the mask. akoya who was weird about creepo guy.

anyway xia ji was also hiding there, and was freaking out bc the association has found him again, so he ended up freeing creepo by throwing knives at the necks of the two random fodder holding creepo & escaping. he hid in a bush and sniped raian & raian fell over. everyone in the subreddit was excited about this. last updated July 25th

2. I wanted to remember this one, but pretty much all the context is missing bc I had to remember the other dream first. not the first time I've had a dream like this but the first time I've succeeded. anyway I'm the ~special girl~ main character. there are four stars and a ritual and the world is ending, or at least the world we live in is controlled by others and we are supposedly just the NPCs (but only when they from above look at us). but I'm the npc main character. we live in our shacks in the desert ekeing out our existence, and once a year the real main characters come and raid us and force us to slaughter each other or our farm animals. we hid our valuables but it's a 50/50 whether they're found or not, as any form of resistance equals death. I held down one of our let rabbits while the main characters chopped each leg off.

anyway, there was a ritual that would end this world and save my family and friends by resetting it, and I was the only one who could do it because I was the only one who could see/talk to (?) the human stars. there were 4. the ritual requires 4 separate things ? i think. I needed to sit in water. I needed to have bread (?) covered in different substances (?) hanging above my head. I needed to be able to stop/trap/see them to do something specific? it was very timelimited. If I failed the ritual I would die and the stars would live forever, but they did not want to live forever, they wanted to die? or at least only livr a human lifespan.

the first 3 stars wltook the form of old men. the 3rd star in particular had the ability to turn invisible so I couldn't see him and trap him once the ritual had begun. he was kind but apologetic about this. he looked like the grandpa from the pickles comic. one of the other stars, 1 or 2, looked like chairman metsudo. tall, long beard and mustache, dignified despite his age. can't remember the remaining one. the fourth star was young. he dressed stylishly, and had blond hair and he was mean to me, but in a somehow kind of encouraging way. like a tsundere actually! "you fucking idiot if you're unable to study 3's patterns to know how he moved you'll fucking cease to exist and we'll live for fucking ever is that what you want??" type beat. he did not believe I could do it, but I think he wanted to. or he did believe it and he was acting like he wasn't. and the me in that dream was so patient and would return each remark with kindness and he would get flustered just like every tsundere ever. I didn't know anything about the ritual and the rest were forbidden from telling me, but through the fourth star's drip marketing I got maybe 70% of the gist of it .

I think the other 3 stars had titles like "star of time, star of light," the star I can't recall anything about, & this guy was the star of death. not the death star. I sensed if I made that comparison he'd abandon me and never help.

i wasn't fully prepared, but we were running out of time. I started the ritual. each star vanished from the human world and took their place in the sky. the old and tall and proud star ate everything in the sky. he became the silhouette of giant Luigi looking over the world. his right eye glinted, and from that glint the ring that would expand and destroy the world if it became encircled began. the round old man with glasses star vanished, and the rings of light off his glasses hit the ground of the room and slowly slowly started changing things. the star I forgot sent his ring of light up and it hit giant Luigi in the eye and this expanded the ring so it'd grant me a few precious more minutes to complete the ritual. I don't know what the star of death was doing.

anyway it teleported me to my mom's bedroom. I sprang into action, I ran the water in the bathtub, started taking my socks off, grabbed clothes hangers for the bread, didn't look outside the window to see the rings progress. got to the kitchen. realized I didn't have the TIME to apply the proper spreads. time..... time....and the old man was there, I saw him, and I put my hand on his head and he smiled and like went in the fridge and turned into cabbage or something. okay. okay. whatever . I smashed the jars on the ground and started mopping them with the bread slices, looked outside it was dark. the ring was 2/3 down, and moving fast. I ran back to the bathtub and finished taking off my socks and lower body clothes and scattered the bread around and sat in the water. the hoodie the star of death had given me was getting wet. as the water came up I saw on the sides - [first star] in dishwasher purple times new Roman: satisfed. star of light (lime green): satisfied. star of time (burnt orange) satisfed. instead of saying star of death, it said "kuro" or some shit like that & it said FURIOUS.

I looked up. there he was. the light from the bathroom window turned white, like early morning. he looked like he didn't know what emotion to put on his face. "are you really ready for this? you messed up the ritual a little but we're letting it slide, you know. we don't want to be immortal. you'll cease to exist as you are now. it'll hurt." his face twisted up & he said "I don't want you to get hurt." & I was lik "okay but if I fail the ritual now, the world will be cleansed in the ring of fire anyway, and all of you will be forced to live forever, and my atoms will be torn apart just like you've told me so many times." he stood there anyway. unsure I guess. my dream self had no patience for his tsundere antics I had a world to save. I smiled and said "thank you for the hoodie - it's really kept me warm." now it was soggy and gross in the water that was up to my neck but I didn't say that. I started to take it off since I had to be just about naked for things to work, and his face settled and he actually looked mature like a star should rather than some angry blond haired twink. he turned away to give me some privacy. I put the hoodie on the floor and uncorked the bathtub so all the water would come out. this was the end of the ritual. the world went white. it hurt for about one second and then I woke up.

#dreams

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lieutenant-amuel · 1 year

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Okay, so, this is absolutely random, and nobody probably needs it, but I thought about how my OCs look like and since I’m bad at drawing, I made picrews plus little notes to clarify some things.

This is definitely not 100% how I imagine them (and to be fair, I’m actually not entirely sure how they’re supposed to look like), but it’s at least something, because I never described their appearances in my fic (I just don’t know how without going too primitive like “his hair is brown, his eyes are green”) and thought people who read it might be interested in this.

Anyway, for most of them I used this picrew and for Matías - this one, because he’s just unmakeable in another one.

Valerio Álvarez.

Generally, Valerio has a dark colour type. Super dark brown hair, super dark brown eyes, and dark complexion (he’s not black, though). He also has side bangs to cover his forehead. I’m not sure about his facial hair because it always looks strange in picrews but maybe this little beard is fine.

His facial features are sharp: he has high cheekbones and aquiline nose. He also have dimples on his cheeks, but I’m not sure if this picrew has this feature.

His height is average (~182 cm) and his body type is rectangle (he’s not muscular nor skinny, just slender and again average; he’s just a normal man with abnormal life)

When it comes to clothing, he prefers wearing black and basically anything that can cover his body from his neck to his toes. When he was younger, he loved loose shirts and could easily stroll around with like four top buttons unbuttoned. Also, he had long hair in his early twenties because I want it.

And his famous gloves, of course.

Ángel Suarez.

Ángel has dark skin, brown hair, and amber eyes. He also has freckles on his face and shoulders and a dimple in his chin.

His facial features are rather soft. He’s snub-nosed, his cheekbones are not super noticeable, and his eyebrows are thin. He also has curly hair.

Ángel is tall. When he’s an adult, his height reached ~186 cm. He’s thin but due to his fencing classes and general passion for sports (he jogs regularly and loves spending time outdoors), he’s not skinny and his shoulders, relatively to his build, are broad (all I try to say is that he’s kinda similar to Mateo but he’s more athletic (?))

I can’t say anything about his style in clothing but I can imagine him wearing suspenders and ponchos. He also likes colourful clothing with different ornaments. And generally Ángel is super stylish and cares about his appearance.

Frida Aakster.

Frida has dark brown hair, turquoise eyes, and light skin. Since the moment she lives in Avalor, she's tanned.

She has a long straight nose (close to the Grecian profile, I think), and generally her features are dominated by long thin straight lines (her cheekbones are not super noticeable, though, but I can imagine her face getting sharper when she's older)

Frida is petite. Her height is ~162 cm, and her body type is rectangle, aka without noticeable curves.

I'm really not sure what she likes to wear, but I definitely imagine her having a good sense of style and loving jewelry. Besides, even though she doesn't strive to become a professional fashion designer, she's into it and loves crafting her clothes.

This is not about appearance, but I just want to highlight the fact that Frida has quite a noticeable Maarswikan accent when she speaks Avaloran. Although it doesn't make her speech less clear, on the contrary, it makes it more charming, and Ángel and Gabe are still amazed by the fact she's 100% fluent in two languages.

Matías Gallardo.

Akjandjfk I know he looks wrong compared to others but I really couldn't give him justice with another picrew, he just looked so weird.

Anyway, Matías has brown hair, brown eyes, and dark skin (his colour type is lighter if we compare him to Valerio). His face, nose, and basically the rest of the features are wide and kinda rough. He also has lots of facial hair.

He's super tall (~188 cm), and his body type is oval. Generally, he's just a very big bear-like man.

I have NO idea what he likes to wear. Really. I'm totally lost. Although I can imagine him being quite indifferent to his appearance and preferring casual style.

Emilio Serrano.

Emilio was super hard for me, and honestly, I have no idea why I struggle so much with giving him any specific features, but okay, I came to this eventually.

Like the majority of characters, he has brown hair and eyes and dark skin. His features are thin and long, even elegant at some point. He has narrow cheekbones, sharp chin, and long nose.

Emilio is kinda short (~178 cm) and can be considered skinny. His body type is also rectangle and he has relatively narrow shoulders (basically he's kinda similar to Valerio at this point, since they both have a straight silhouette, just Emilio is thinner).

When it comes to clothes, he likes vests and prefers sticking to the official style when he's at work (and basically he doesn't mind it). He has a pocket watch with a portrait of his family inside, and Verónica has the same one, so they kinda match each other.

And he has a mustache :D

Verónica Serrano.

Verónica has brown hair, green eyes, and relatively light skin. Her facial features are kinda soft. She has an oval face with barely visible cheekbones, wide nose, and round chin.

Her height is average (I think lol) - 166 cm. Her body type is average, she’s not skinny nor plump, and has a curvy silhouette (a triangle type, maybe?). She used to be into rock climbing, so she can be considered athletic.

Her hair is wavy, and she prefers buns, which, you know, is necessarily when you do sports or had two infants with the grasp reflex.

When it comes to clothing, I’m lost again but maybe, she likes wearing loose shirts and I want her and Emilio have some matching jewelry items, because they’re in love.

Leticia Álvarez.

Leticia my beloved. She has brown reddish hair, caramel eyes, and dark skin. Her features are a mix of soft and sharp ones, as she has a round chin, barely visible cheekbones yet aquiline nose. She also has freckles on her face and shoulders and slightly curly hair.

Leticia is petite (~160 cm) and has a delicate body type. She’s thin and not athletic at all (noodle arms, yay).

When it comes to clothes, she’s kinda girly and loves dresses, skirts, and ruffles. She also loves floral accessories and jewelry that holds a special meaning to her. She has myopia and wears glasses.

And that’s it!

#Was Born To Lead #My OCs #Valerio Álvarez #Ángel Suarez #Frida Aakster #Matías Gallardo #Emilio Serrano #Verónica Serrano #Leticia Álvarez #I probably shouldn’t use the main EoA tag because not so many people know about them and I don’t want to spam #Anyway I hope people who read my fic see this post #You know when I was playing around with this picrew and tried to figure out Leticia’s appearance I just gasped #OH MY GOD SHE’S GORGEOUS I DON’T ACCEPT ANY OTHER PICREWS *THIS* IS HOW I IMAGINE HER #So maybe this is because her description is the shortest #I just barely have anything to add because really THIS is Leticia #Aksjjdkf and also I noticed that Emilio and Verónica have the same bangs hair #Let’s pretend that married couples actually do look alike #They’ve been married for like seven years I think?#Wow #Aksjkdkf honestly I don’t like it when men have only a mustache without a beard but I just feel like it fits Emilio #Anyway yeah this is approximately how I imagine all of them and I’m kinda satisfied with it #Also I have no idea how feet and inches work so forgive me for centimeters

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writtenonreceipts · 2 years

Note

46 "I thought you were dead!"? Thx 💖💖💖

Nessian. hurt/comfort

March, 1918

She is too young to be a widow.

Too young to know death.

Too young to be forgotten.

They all are. But the world is a harsh and cruel and knows nothing more than silence. The world is neutral upon this battle that rages among the human race and forgoes holding anything other than stalwart dissonance when wars wage and death stakes her claim.

Nesta is too young for this the realities of this world.

Her sisters had been happily reunited with their loves. Rhys with far more trauma than any one man could endure and Lucien had lost an eye. Her friend Gwyn was helping Rhys' brother Azriel recover, but the man wouldn't speak about anything other than a desire to be left alone.

And Nesta. Nesta was a widow.

Her husband has disappeared behind enemy lines and no one had heard from him in over a year. And now the war had long since ended.

At first, she'd held on to hope. He could still return. And then she'd turned to fear. Sorrow. And now she settled on anger.

They were gathered at the large ranch house that had long been held in Rhysand’s family and that he now shared with Feyre and soon to be growing family. They'd also allowed Nesta a place to stay since Cassian...Cassian was...

Out in the wide, open yard Emerie was helping with the laundry duties, her brown hair hanging in a thick braid down her back. She laughed with Elain who stood next to her, shaking out a bedsheet.

Feyre was seated on the deck beside Nesta, a hand on her rounded belly. Rhys and Lucien were inside with Azriel attempting to maneuver a bassinet into the main bedroom.

It was a simple afternoon, one that had begun growing on Nesta for the last few months. Maybe she could be happy here. It would take a long while of course, but maybe.

"Who's that?" Feyre asked suddenly. She sat up a little in her chair and looked out over the front yard.

"Hm?" Nesta murmured. Looking over to her sister, she didn't pay much heed.

Feyre had often taken to pointing out different birds fluttering about or things of the like.

"There," Feyre said. She pointed now to the fence that bordered the house.

A figure stood there, face obscure by the angle of the sun, but Nesta could see that it had to be a man with his large frame and then the slow confident way he sauntered up the gravel walk to the house.

Nesta watched the man with more and more discontent. Surely the neighbors were at home, why could the man not stop somewhere else?

"My word," Feyre gasped, one hand going to her mouth.

Nesta dared not look away from the man. He had shaggy brown hair hanging to his shoulders and a thick beard obscuring most of his face. There was something so familiar about him and the way he moved. So familiar in the way he raised his head and how his eyes met hers.

And Nesta knew.

“You bastard,” she whispered.

She was on her feet in an instant, running down the front porch and across the small bit of yard that separated them. In a bounding leap, Nesta flung herself into the man’s arms. He caught her easily and held Nesta tight against him.

His hands were familiar on her body: warm and sure. The way he held her was comforting and reminded Nesta of before the war when they would dance together in their bedroom--alone with no prying eyes.

It took a long while before Nesta could pull herself away. She was distantly aware of their family all around them, but she ignored them. All she had were eyes for the man before her.

“Cassian,” she said, her voice breaking before she began. Tears fell from her eyes as she raised one hand to cup his cheek.

Dirt smeared his face and the beard was almost entirely consuming him, but his eyes--his eyes--nothing could have changed those.

“I thought you were dead!” She fisted one hand in his thick flannel shirt. While she could feel his heart beat pounding against her skin, she still couldn’t believe that he was here before her.

“I’m here now, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Cassian stared down at her with something akin to fear in those beautiful hazel eyes of his. It was almost too much for Nesta as she drew herself closer to her.

“And you’re not leaving me again,” she ordered. The force of her words was lost in the sob threatening to burst free.

“Never,” he promised.

...

#nessian #drabbles #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #fic

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spencers-dria · 3 years

Note

Can you maybe write something where the reader meets spencer in prison and when they get out, they meet up and they have really rough and kinky sex like you can literally go as dirty and kinky as you want

Four Feet Apart

🎉150 follower celebration! Day 6

Spencer x fem reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral female receiving, anal play, blindfold/sensory play, and handcuff/restraint use, protected penetrative sex, mentions of murder, prison

The beginning is a little angst, little fluff, plenty of smut!

“Alright inmates, listen up! There’s been some budget cuts. For the time being, the old west wing building will be taken by overflow from the women’s prison.”

The guard’s voice was overtaken by wolf whistles and hollers.

“That’s enough! Now you will not share a building with them. You will not see them during meals. However the courtyards do share a fence. If you are caught harassing them in any way, you will be punished accordingly!”

The announcement had caught the attention of just about every inmate, except one. Spencer Reid had bigger problems to worry about than women. He didn’t get them outside of prison, so why should he worry about them on the inside. He needed to worry about how to stay safe, stay alive until his name was cleared. That is, until he met you.

_______________________________________

I sat on the bleachers, popping some bubble gum as I searched for some worthwhile eye candy. The sun was a bit hot so I shrugged my button down off my shoulders, opting to tie it around my waist, leaving me in a white tank. This of course leads to many wondering eyes and a few whistles from the men’s side of the fence. I’m not even sure what i’m looking for, but none of the men giving me the time of day have it. I finally notice a slender man sitting on the men’s bleachers, just a few feet away from the fence on his side. I scoot up , slipping my fingers through the women’s chain-link side. Of course I could never touch any of them, with each side having about four feet between their respective fences. But there were no rules against looking or talking even.

“Hey. Think too hard and you’re gonna mess up that pretty face of yours.”

He looks up a bit startled, but his posture changes once his gaze lands on me. He almost looks shy, which seems in direct contrast to his rugged look. But once I look in his eyes, I see depth and warmth and kindness that belongs far away from this place, and it hurts me for a moment, to think of what will happen to him here.

“I don’t bite. The name is Y/L/N. Got in for killing my ex husband. How about you?”

He blinked, speechless at first.

“Doc- I’m uh, Spencer Reid. They think I killed someone too…”

“Well, didn’t you?”

He shook his head. Based on the look in his eyes, I want to believe him I really do.

“Did you know that incarceration of women has been growing at twice the rate of men’s incarceration?”

“Now how in the world would you know that?”

He simply shrugged.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just looked like you could use some company is all.”

He looked like he wanted to respond, he really did. But before he got the chance, the women were called back inside.

I give a quick salute. “Nice meetin ya Spencer Reid. See ya when I see ya.”

___________________________________________

The next time I saw him he looked different. Scared, fragile, and a bit bloodied up.

“Hey- what uh- I mean, are you okay?”

He refused to look up or give much of an answer. But he was sitting in the same spot, close enough for us to have another conversation so I have to believe he wanted to talk again.

“I’m guessing you’re relatively new. It happened to me too ya know. Especially when I wouldn’t just go along with everything they asked.”

That drew his attention, and I could see tears in his eyes.

“You can’t let them see they get to you, that you’re scared. I learned that long before I got here though. That’s why I killed him ya know- he hurt me and I couldn’t just take it anymore. Police wouldn’t listen. I just wanted it to stop.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I shrugged it off. I’m paying my time but I’m safer in here than I ever felt with him.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Now he has my attention. I nod, trying not to seem too excited to be sharing schoolyard secrets with the handsome stranger.

“I uh, was in the FBI. I was framed by a, well you can almost call her an arch nemesis of sorts.” He laughed to himself. It was a warm sort of laugh that filled me with butterflies. “I was just trying to get medicine for my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia. She was getting worse and I-“ his words are quickly cut off by the sounds of sniffles.

“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t mean it to be rude, but I had to know.

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people and- you’re not a bad person. I trust you.”

In that moment, our eyes met again, but something new was there. Desire? Lust? Caring? Who knows. But that was the start of something. Of daily meetings, and quiet longing.

Day after day we would sit by our fences, sharing stories of our lives before prison. I learned that he was kind, hard-working, and actually quite funny. Spencer Reid was the best company I’d had in years, and not just within the prison walls.

He also told me about the rough time of it he was having on his own side. I gave him pointers where I could. How to get in with the right people, how to avoid the wrong ones, and how to get himself safe when necessary.

At one point, the politics on his side did endanger his life, and that’s when we came up with the plan together. A plan that would help take down the very man targeting him while getting Spencer somewhere safe for now. This meant I wouldn’t see him while he was in solitary, but we both knew it was necessary.

We never spoke about exactly what it was we wanted but- it was there. We devoured one another with our eyes. Biting and licking lips, drawn out breaths, and lingering gazes. We knew.

I watched him change overtime. His hair and beard grew yes, but so did this darkness in his eyes. The soft, Bambi-eyed boy was seemingly gone, replaced by a man who needed to hurt someone, anyone. And oh was I ready to let him hurt me.

I waited by the fence each day for his return, but it never came. I finally decided to ask around until I heard something that thrilled me but also left a huge gaping hole in me.

“He left.”

I couldn’t be happier for him. Had they cleared his name? From the sound of it, federal agents, friends of his had come to retrieve him. I could only hope that he was safe and happy.

Then one day I received a letter.

Dear Y/N,

I miss you. Just you. You made my time there worthwhile, worth missing. There’s so much more I wanted to say to you, and a letter just won’t do it justice. I have a feeling you’ll be out on parole sooner than you think. Come find me when you can. I’ll be in D.C..

Counting the days,

Spencer

____________________________________________

Parole? I had at least another year before that could even be a consideration. But I started counting too, which didn’t last long. Imagine my surprise when I got out on parole only two weeks after receiving the letter.

Did he- no he couldn’t, could he? Spencer had been gone for months. Clearly he had cleared his name, thank goodness. I knew I needed to see him as soon as possible.

I couldn’t leave the state, but luckily I didn’t need to. With what little I had, I made my way to D.C.. I figured I’d start out at the return address on the envelope, the one I clung to like my life depended on it.

With a bag slung over my shoulder, I raised my hand with the letter to hesitantly knock on the door, completely unsure of what to expect on the other side.

My mouth fell open at the sight before me. Spencer Reid in a cardigan, a tie? I had never seen him outside the prison. He looked so put together. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to tear him apart. I did my best to suppress my lust in hopes of a civil and normal greeting.

I don’t know what I expected. Tears, hugs maybe? We stood there staring at each other for who knows how long before I finally spoke. I’d had a well rehearsed speech in my head. One I’d had two whole weeks to work on since he sent the letter. But that all went out the window the second I saw his face again.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Who was I kidding? We could see it in eachother’s eyes, the same desire from before, but stronger somehow. Maybe because it was quite literally within reach. Months of daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch him, kiss him, get absolutely railed by him.

The man I had met initially was so gentle, timid. I watched him change in that prison. I had initially imagined ruining him, breaking him for my own pleasure. By the time he left I wanted something completely different. I wanted him to do the breaking. I wanted him to use me for his own personal pleasure. And he knew it.

He grabbed my face to pull me in for an all consuming kiss that quite literally took my breath away. I had to pull back, gasping for air before I could get any words out.

“Missed you too.” I smiled.

“Can we take this to my bedroom?” The words came out rushed, as though he might die if he couldn’t have me in that very moment.

I give an enthusiastic nod. A small squeal and uncharacteristic giggle leaves my lips as he scoops me up in his arms, whisking me away to his bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he pants, frantically removing his clothes. “Can you get undressed and lay down on your stomach for me?”

I follow his orders without question. He leans down by my ear and asks one question. “Safe word?”

“Cherry blossom.”

“Anything off limits?”

I don’t even have to think. “No, I trust you.”

Next thing I know I feel soft silk over my eyes as he ties a blindfold in place. This allows me to focus on the sounds of whatever else he is preparing. I hear a distinctly familiar jingle of metal, which is confirmed as it touches the skin of my wrists. Handcuffs. I wiggle my hips in delight, which earns me a playful spank.

“Like what you see?”

“I definitely can’t complain.” I can almost hear his smirk.

His fingers dig into my hips before pulling them up in the air. I feel cold air hit my core immediately.

“Fucking beautiful.”

Without any warning I feel a finger coated in cool lubricant coating my other opening.

“Try and relax for me, beautiful.” His fingers run through some of my hair, dragging across the skin of my back and I feel my muscles immediately follow his command. I attempt to mentally and physically prepare for whatever could be coming next.

I feel him work in what feels to be a decent sized anal plug. I’ve tried them before but only by myself. I’m already enjoying the added stimulation. My hips jolt when he suddenly brings his head down to lick up through my slit and I can’t help but yell.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm you like that, dirty girl? You’re quite literally dripping for me.”

He says it so calmly, I can hardly wrap my head around how smooth he’s being.

“Yes sir, please!” I beg.

“Please what, hmmm? What do you need?”

“Need you to eat my pussy please sir!”

Damn I sound absolutely pathetic. To think I ever considered myself a feminist. So much for my leg up on domineering men. Here I am willingly let one take me, have me anyway he wants. And that’s just the way I want it too. For Spencer Reid, I would be anything he needed.

“Good girl.” The two words have me writhing in pleasure with the combined sensation of his tongue back on the place I need it most. He sucks and laps at me like I'm his favorite dessert . He reads my body like a book, every movement and moan. He knows just what I need, when to let up, when to push harder. It’s unfair just how talented his mouth is.

And then, I’m coming undone on that beautiful mouth of his. Too bad I can’t see it. But oh it’s all I can imagine as waves of pleasure wreck my body and he’s running his fingers down my back, squeezing my ass as he gets in his final victory licks.

There’s a distinct sound of a condom wrapper, and I appreciate the consideration. I feel him sit on the bed next to me, against the headboard perhaps?

“Come sit on my lap.” His voice is dark and commanding, and my body is already responding with a fresh dose of arousal.

“But I can’t see sir.”

“No excuses. Come sit on my lap or you won’t get to come again.”

Not only can I not see, but my hands are still handcuffed behind my back. Not to mention my knees are weak from my most recent orgasm. This oughta be interesting. I try to scoot on my knees towards where I had heard his voice, only to lose my balance once I bump into his legs. I fall face first into his lap. Not the worst position to be in. I hear a soft, dark chuckle above me.

“Poor pathetic thing, are you already too weak? Can you handle another one?”

I swear, I never knew I was into degradation and humiliation. I don’t even know if I truly am, it's just something about him, about Spencer, that turns me on with everything he does.

“Yes sir, please! Please I can handle it! Let me try!”

I feel his fingers grasp my jaw, pulling my face up till I’m sitting on my knees again. I can feel his breath on my face and I wish I could just lean in and feel his lips on mine. My wish is granted for just a second. I feel his plush lips brush against mine, but they’re gone just as quick.

“Pretty thing. Let me help you, hmm.”

His long fingers wrap around my hips and guide me till I’m sitting in his lap, one leg on either side.

“Do you think you can ride me without your hands for balance?

“Yes sir!” I nod with an embarrassing eagerness.

“Show me, baby.”

I raise up and with his guidance again, lower myself until he’s making sure my other hole is filled as well.

Each bounce against his lap is adding pressure against the plug, combined with the bump of his cock against my cervix. With no sight, I’m so in tune with every sensation, especially the way his fingers feel roaming every inch of my body. He’s pinch my nipples, grabbing my ass, tugging at my hair. I may have been the one begging but he was clearly just as desperate.

When he decided he needs more, Spencer grabs my hips and starts thrusting up into me at a completely

ridiculous pace.

“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock. See for yourself, little girl.”

Before I have time to realize what he means, his beautiful fingers are ripping the silk away from my eyes, only to be met with absolutely heavenly eyes. They’re golden, warm, filled with lust but also something kinder. They devour my body like I’m his goddess. I absolutely love watching him enjoy the view. He licks his lips hungrily as he watches my breasts bounce and the way he looks sliding in and out of me.

Spencer pulls me in so he can leave a trail of kisses along my shoulders and neck. I love the way my face feels buried in his soft curls, he smells of lavender shampoo and it’s intoxicating. When he pulls back he’s got a knowing smirk on his face.

“What?”

In seemingly one move, I’m off his lap, on my back, with my hands pinned over my head.

“But the hand cuffs? How did you-“

Instead of answering he silenced me with an all consuming kiss. We’re biting, sucking, moaning, on one another like animals in heat. I can’t help but feel sorry for his poor neighbors.

He keeps my hands pinned above my head while realigning himself ready to pick back up where he left off. Before I can even register what’s happening he’s pounding into me like it’s his fucking job.

“You feel that? You feel how perfectly I fill you up? So pretty with my cock in you. Fuck- you take it so well!”

Words are gone from my mind. I’m left with moans, tears, and one name. Spencer.

“Spencer!”

He lets go of my arms and they instinctively wrap around his neck as I use my legs around his hips bringing him close.

“I’ve got you pretty girl. I’m here. Be a good little thing and come for me. Come on.”

I’m wrecked, shaking and moaning, unsure if I’ll ever be able to stop. He’s right there with me, filling me up in the best way. The pleasure is intensified by the extra pressure from the plug. I cling to him for dear life as I ride off my high, enjoying the way he looks above me. He’s angelic with the light sheen of sweat causing his skin to glisten in the low lighting, the natural sparkle of his eyes, the way his curls fall in his face, the pretty pink lips softly parted as he pants.

He’s dominant but also so soft and kind with me. It's clear tonight he cared about my pleasure just as much as his own. Maybe I don’t ever have to let him go. Maybe we can just stay here, twisted up in one another, blissfully unaware of all our troubles and the world around us.

I’m embarrassed at how much I whine as he gets off of me and slips away into the bathroom. I don’t know why I was surprised when he returns with a warm washcloth and lotion. He’s cleaning me up, tending to my wrists and any other spots sore from friction, and removing the plug. All the while he’s littering my skin with gentle kisses, all along my back and shoulders, my hips, my chest, my face. I’ve never been so pampered.

“Are you okay?” His voice is sweet and smooth like honey, leaving me tingling in the wake of its sweetness.

“Never better.” I leave kisses across his knuckles and he gives me that look again, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

After some convincing, I get up to use the bathroom, returning to a very sweet looking boy waiting for me under the covers, looking up with puppy dog eyes. I see the man I first met in the courtyard months ago. The one that stole my heart. I slip into the spot next to him, and we tangle back together, skin against skin. It’s so warm, soft, inviting and I think I’ll stay forever.

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #prison reid #post prison spencer #spencer reid x y/n

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yourgoldengirls · 3 years

Text

Lonely

Pairing: Rick Grimes x F!Reader

Summary: After the fall of the prison, the reader finds herself alone with baby Judith mourning her family while trying to survive.

Warnings: angst, fluff

W/C: 3360

Ao3

A/N: Yes, I am writing this while there is a HUGE list of assignments that I am currently ignoring. Please enjoy my attempt of failing college. If you like it, please reblog and leave a comment. This is my first time writing fanfiction so I am open to criticism, but I am also a sucker for compliments. English is not my first language so if there is any mistakes please let me know.

She doesn’t remember ever feeling so lonely.

Of course, before all this she was always alone, living in her small apartment in the city and working in her cubicle.

But now, as she sits in an abandoned car in the middle of the desert road with the baby in her arms, she feels lonely.

Before, she didn’t know what was like to have a family, to care and rely on someone, to share your fears and joy and journey with people that care deeply about you.

So yes, before she was alone. But she wasn’t lonely. She wasn’t missing anything.

You can’t miss what you never had.

Now, while she is scare and hungry in the middle of the apocalypse holding an already asleep Judith, she feels lonely.

Now she misses her family.

She misses Carl’s laugh and jokes, and the way he would always come to her when he wanted to talk about his fears or when he wanted help to prank his father.

She misses Maggie and their late night talks in the guard tower while they were keeping watch (their apocalypse sleepover, as they like to call) when they would just pretend to be two friends in the normal world gossiping about the neighbors and boyfriends with Beth.

She misses Daryl and his shy demeanor, how he always would hunt for them even when they already had food enough as a way of showing he cares without having to say it.

She misses Glenn and his sweetness, the way he would always make sure she ate something before taking shifts clearing the fence. The way he took care of her as she was his little sister, since he found her in one of his runs back in Atlanta and toke her to the camp without questions.

She misses Michonne and her sass, they afternoon training and how she never lets anyone touch her katana but agreed in showing her how to use it.

But most of all she misses Rick.

God, she misses him so much it hurts.

Their relationship was complicated at first.

Back in Atlanta, they became friends. When he showed up, she had already formed a strong bond with Carl, so it made sense she would also become close to his parents. Lori had always trusted her with Carl when she was not around (a.k.a in the woods screwing Shane) so the boy started seeing her as a source of comfort and protection.

When he was shot back in the farm, she was by his side every day, reading and playing games until he was strong enough to leave the room.

She held him when they found out about Sofia. Dried his tears when he cried at night. She was always with him while his parents were dealing with their broken marriage.

When they lost the farm and went back in the road, she would take care of him, giving him her food and coat at night. With Lori pregnant, Rick was always looking after her, giving her his food and making sure she and the baby wore the safest they could be in the apocalypse, with monsters everywhere, so she took upon her to worry about Carl.

Rick was constantly worried about the baby, starting to lose his mind trying to find a solution to keep everyone safe. But there is so much a man can do at the end of the world.

So, one night when everybody was sleeping and he was up keeping watch, he broke down.

She was laying next to Carl, holding the boy, and trying to keep him warm the best she could. The others were already asleep, but she could never keep her eyes close these days. Always worried she would never open then again.

So when she heard sniffing noises she knew it was Rick, the only one awake besides her.

Carefully not to disturb the kid sleeping next to her, she stood up and when to sit next to him.

"Hey"

Rick look at her and gave her a small smile, too tired to try and hide his tears from her.

"Wanna talk about?"

He just kept looking at her and sigh. Looking at him up closely, she saw how exhausted he looked. He was thinner, his hair and beard were longer, and his eyes had dark circles around. She knew she didn’t look much better.

"I’m scared." he whispered so quietly that if she weren’t so close, she wouldn’t be able to hear it. "Everybody is counting on me and I just.. I don’t know what to do. I’m disappointing everyone."

In that moment she looked at him and she swore he never locked so small. So unsure of himself. The strong and forceful leader of the group was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, that’s not true. We all know that you are doing your best." she told him, eager to comfort him, to take him away from those demons that was starting to craw up on his shoulders.

"What do you do when your best is not good enough?" he asks her looking so lost, hoping that she had the answers to all his questions and could fix him somehow.

She then took his wands and forced him to turn and face her, to look her in the eyes, hoping that what she had to say next could penetrate his skin and comfort him best if he had all his attention fixed on her.

"We are going to be okay, Rick. As long as we are together, we are going to be okay. We’re going to figure it out. I promise."

He just looked at her and smile, squeezing her hand but didn’t let go.

"Plus, you are going to have another baby soon. Can’t go around losing all hope now, right? If anything, we have to try harder." she tries to bring his mind in something to look forward to, something to keep going.

"Is not my baby." he says and she is more confuse than ever.

"What?"

"Is Shane’s baby." he says and his voice is so small that she thinks that she heard wrong, but the look in his face tells her she didn’t.

"Oh, Rick.."

She then takes his face in her hands and he cries harder, letting his face fall to her shoulders while she holds him.

She holds him until his tears dry, then his head movers from her shoulders to her lap and he closes his eyes while she plays with his hair until he falls asleep.

They found the prison two days later and he hugged her so hard she thought her ribs were going to break.

After that night, they became closer and closer. Like Carl, he starts to look for her when in need of comfort and reassurance. They would be constantly talking and making plans for update the prison, going on runs together and always having each other’s backs.

When Lori died giving birth, she didn’t allow herself to cry. The moment Maggie show up with the baby in her arms and Carl with that devastated look in his face, she knew she had to be strong for them. The tree of them.

So while Rick was grieving, she was taking care of his kids. Judith would be in her arms constantly and Carl was always on her toes. She notices that the boy was trying to hold back in front of everyone, so at night she would always bring the kids to her cell and hold a crying Carl while Judith was sleeping.

When Rick showed up looking like himself again, he came to her while she was feeding Judith. He sat besides her and watched the baby girl like she was some sort of angel in the middle of a battlefield. Too pure for this world. He then looked at her and she smiled at him and told him that it was going to be okay.

And he believed her.

After that it was natural that they would gravitate towards each other. She was taking care of his kids after all, and he was so lost that it was disorientating. The whole world was a blur, and she was the only thing keeping him grounded. She became his rock.

Every time he saw her talking with Carl, making sure he was eating, playing with him in at attempt of bringing him some sort of childhood, he felt like he could breath again. When she was holding Judith, feeding, and singing to her, he felt the ache in his chest decreasing.

Every time she would hug him, smile at him, or do anything as looking at his direction, he felt like she was the only thing holding his head above water, the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Piece by piece she collected him.

So it wasn’t a surprise when one day their hugs started to last longer, when the kisses on the cheek moved closer and closer to the mouth, when the gazes became silent conversations.

Everyone notice they pinning around each other but they knew that it was all that was going to be. Both too afraid and feeling too guilty to act on whatever was going on between them.

They needed to take things slow. It wasn’t fair to any of them to jump into something so soon after Lori’s death. It wasn’t fair to Lori, Rick, Carl. It wasn’t fair to her. So they needed time.

But that’s the thing with living in the end of the world. Time is a luxury. A privilege that you can’t really count on.

When the prison fell the only thing in her mind wore the kids. She couldn’t remember who had Judith, where Carl was, she couldn’t find anybody. She was starting to panic when she saw Judith placed on the baby chair on the floor, seconds from being eaten by a walker.

She quickly picked her up and ren as fast as she could. She ren so much until her legs started to give up. She didn’t have time to think about anything else. She just had to take her out of there.

Now she doesn’t know where she is. She doesn’t know how long is been since she left the prison. She doesn’t know if anybody else is alive, and if they are, she knew she will never find them again. She is scare and have no idea how she is gonna keep her and Judith safe.

Up until this moment, she been living from fruits and some cans she found in some abandoned cabins she crossed along the way. But she is getting weaker. She can’t really hunt without a proper weapon and a baby in her arms. She tried going in the city to scavenge some stores for food to Judith, but she was only able to collect a few things before the baby started crying and attracted walkers from every ware. After that she gave up on that idea and started looking for some place safe enough to spend a few days so she and Judith could have a proper rest.

She never allows herself to sleep when she stops to rest, afraid to wake up surrounded by walkers. So when Judith wakes up, she feeds her with the formula that is left and starts walking again. At this point she doesn’t even feel the pain in her legs anymore, is like her body is moving by himself, she is numb.

Judith seems to understand that something is wrong, never complaining, even when she is tired of being carried all the time, and when she is hungry she just pulls her hair, seeming to understand that making noises is too dangerous. Being a baby born in this world, Judith sems to have a different way of behaving that any other babies that she was ever seen. She is still to young to speak, but she makes the cute little noises as if she were trying to communicate, making the woman smile every time and pretend that she is understanding every “word”.

She is immersed in one of her conversations with Judith when she sees the sign. Stopping suddenly, she reads again and again, as if the words would change the minute she looked away and it would be all a projection of her imagination.

But it wasn’t.

So she starts running.

Even though she has her doubts about the existence of an actual sanctuary in this new world, she must check. Is the only scrum of hope after so long. And even if the said sanctuary exists, there is no guaranty that is run by good people. At this point, she has already learned to not trust the living.

So as she starts to get closer and closer to Terminus, she slows her pace not to dry attention before she has the opportunity to check the place.

But then suddenly there is an explosion and gun shots.

She holds Judith closer and tries to hide in a place that allows her to see what is happening but there is too much smoke, so she decides to stay there until is over. Even if there are good people in this place, there is not much help she can provide in this situation with a baby in her arms, and no gun. So she waits and waits until there is no more gun shots.

Judith is surprisingly calm during all this, so she decides is safe to get out of the hidden place and try to see what is going on. All kinds of things go though her mind as she walks towards a little commotion of people walking in direction of the woods, away from Terminus. She is mostly scare of crossing the way of bad people, but she has to see, the seed of hope never living her chest as she goes in direction of the first group of people that she encountered since the fall of the prison.

Maybe they are good people. Maybe they will welcome the lonely woman with the baby in her arms and offer her a place in their group. It will never be the same as being with her group, her family, but at least she would be safe, Judith would be safe.

Or maybe they are awful people and she is about to face another nightmare, another demonstration of what hell is like in the hands of the living, and all hope will be crushed again in front of her eyes.

Of all the things passing trough her mind, finding her family was definitely not one of them. Not once she thought that they wore alive and she would see them again.

At first, she thought that she was seeing things, maybe she was delirious. After all, how long can a person live without enough among of water, food and sleep and still expect to have a healthy function mind? She was going insane, that was definitely it.

But then she saw Daryl running towards Carol and everyone’s faces of surprise and relief and there was no way her mind could create that. Daryl running to hug someone? Not even her delirious mind could made that up.

She stood there paralyzed, trying to ground herself into believing that this was actually her family standing in front of her, when Judith cries draws everyone’s attention to her.

Next thing she knew Rick was running in her direction with Carl in his toes and she was being engulfed with the tightest hug she ever received in her life. Suddenly she was overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions and everything around her was Rick. The smells, the touches, she couldn’t see or think about anything that wasn’t him. After so many days, weeks (was it months? She stop counting so long ago) without knowing if he was dead, alive or something in between, she didn’t know which emotion was stronger. Relief, joy, surprise, love?

When Carl join them in the hug, she starts crying and they all fall to their knees on the ground. It was too much. Knowing that both kids were safe and in her arms was more than she could ever wish for. Her main goal during all this was to keep them safe, and to spend all this time in the road thinking that she had failed, that Carl was gone and she didn’t do anything about it was killing her more quickly than the lack of food or water ever could. Knowing now that he was alive was like receiving a tank of oxygen deep in the ocean, she could suddenly breath again.

When Rick pull back to look in her eyes her smile couldn’t be brighter.

"Sweetheart, is that you? Is it really you?"

When did she became sweetheart?

He starts to caress her face and kiss her tears away with such tenderness that she starts crying even harder. He then smiles and takes Judith of her arms as Carl takes his place, hugging her like she was the last parachute in a plane crash.

"Oh, my baby.. I thought I lost you." she says in the most maternally way there is, while caressing the boy’s hair. "You are never leaving my side again."

The boy then laughs, and her smile grows because oh, how she missed that laugh, and everything falls into place.

"Yes, ma’am." the boy says full of joy and hints of laughs on his smile. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, honey." she says. "So very much."

They get up when the rest of the group starts to approach them, each member with smiles bigger than their faces, hugging her tighter than ever before.

Then Carl take Judith in his arms and Rick starts walking towards her again, holding her face with both hands and pressing their foreheads together. He closes his eyes and smiles before pressing a kiss in her lips and she is suddenly seeing stars.

Nothing could prepare her for this moment, not every novel she once read or the songs she used to listen. There was not one thing that was ever written about love that could describe this feeling. She wasn’t even sure if she could call it love.

It was stronger.

It was the kind of thing that would get you through anything, this feeling was the most powerful thing on earth, she was sure of that. With their mouths pressed against each other, she was sure that the only thing allowing her to breath was his lungs and his blood was only circling in his body due to her heartbeat.

They were one soul in two bodies.

She entangles her fingers in his messy hair and smiles in the middle on the kiss, making him smile as well as they break the kiss.

"I can’t believe this is real. You are here, and.. and Judith is here." he then looks at her with so much admiration in his eyes that she feels shy all the sudden. "You kept my daughter safe."

"Of course I did." she’s mine too.

"I guess I should have known." he than laughs. "You’ve been protecting my kids since day one. You are like the mama bear of the apocalypse."

She than laughs and shoves him playfully.

"I am not!"

"You are, you totally are." they laugh together as she shakes her head.

"He’s right, you totally are." Carl says and she is suddenly remained that they are not alone, and that he saw her kissing his father. But she doesn’t have time to be afraid of what he might think because when she looks at him, he has the biggest smile on his face.

Rick then takes her hand and kisses her knuckles; love is his eyes and she know that her face must mirror his.

"What now?" she asks him.

"Now.. we survive."

In that moment she knows she will never fell lonely again. She found her family, her kids, her love. She was home.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #twd #the walking dead #fanfic #fan fiction #my writing #yourgoldengirls #rick #rick grimes fanfic #rick grimes imagine #one shot #rick grimes one shot #angst #fluff #happy ending

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Text

Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 6

Hi , do you got any fluffy johnlock with cuddling

(submitted by here-4-tha-ship)

Anonymous asked: hiii got any johnlock fics where sherlock wants a hug but he feels embarrassed to ask john? thank you sm <3

—–

Hi Lovelies!! I sure do! And enough to do a new list too!! So thank you, people don’t ask for this enough these days hahhah! Hope you enjoy!!

See also:

Hugs & Cuddles and Tooth-Rotting Fluff (Pt. 2)

Hugs & Cuddles Pt. 2 /…/

…/ Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 3 /…

Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 4

Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 5

A Better Fate Than Wisdom by flawedamythyst (G, 1,339 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, John’s Sexuality Crisis, Pining Sherlock, Happy Ending, Fluff) – Nearly four hours pass between their first kiss and their second.

Evermore by SosoHolmesWatson (G, 2,068 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4, 5-Year-Old Rosie, Love Confessions, Song Fic, Parentlock, Oblivious John, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Disney Songs, Beauty and the Beast) – For the past years, John and Sherlock have lived at Baker Street again, raising Rosie together--as friends and nothing more. Ever since the little girl has watched her first Disney movie, she is obsessed with princesses. When John comes home one day, he finds his friend and his daughter in the middle of a reenactment of her current favourite. Part 1 of Made of Music

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Date Night by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 4,451 w., 1 Ch. || Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Caring John, Schmoopy Fluff, Fidget Cube, Baking / Cooking, Date Night, Established Relationship, POV Sherlock Holmes, Understanding John, Grumpy Sherlock, John’s Bum, Kisses, Hugs, Domestic Fluff, Touching, Hair Petting, Light Humour) – It's John and Sherlock's first Date Night as an official couple and Sherlock needs it to be PERFECT. Mrs Hudson helps. Part 7 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

holding steady by darcylindbergh (E, 12,724 w., 4 Ch. || Post S4, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Growing Old, Gone Fishing, Mood without Plot, Soft Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, POV John Third Person, Anxious Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Touching, Feeling Old, Sherlock Worship, Crying Sherlock, Cuddles, Comforting, Introspection, Retirement, Hand Holding, Forehead Kisses, Caring John, Bed Sharing, Emotional Love Making) – Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing. John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

The shape of the world around us by Salambo06 (E, 15,058 w., 5 Ch. || Lumberjack John / Botanist Sherlock, Different First Meeting, John Has a Beard, Light Case Fic, Flirting, First Kiss / Time, Masturbation, Love at First Sight, Horny Sherlock, John’s Bum, Bottomlock, Tenderness, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Shy Sherlock, Sexual Fantasies) – Looking through the bush, Sherlock felt his heartbeat quicken as a man passed in front of him. Sherlock frowned, trying to get a closer look despite the bush. The man was wearing a red plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, and Sherlock couldn't take his eyes off the man’s arms. Muscular, slightly tanned with golden hairs along his forearms. For some unknown reason, Sherlock found himself imagining them around his waist, holding him tightly. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, Sherlock shook his head. Opening his eyes and looking back to where the man stood only a moment prior, he found himself alone. Great, now his only chance to find his way back to town was gone. “Why are you wearing a suit?”

A Hooligans’ Game Played By Gentlemen by scullyseviltwin (E, 15,213 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Rugby as Foreplay, Porn with Lots of Plot, John POV, Ogling, Body Appreciation, Cranky Sherlock, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Cuddling, Touching, Heavy Petting, Blow Job, Botttomlock) – In which John wants to get back in shape, does so, joins a rugby league and has sex with Sherlock Holmes. In that order.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || GERMAN VERSION || Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #hugs and cuddles #my fic recs #fluff fics #submission

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slutsofren · 3 years

Text

Danger Days Chapter 9: Give ‘em Hell Kid

summary: after taking care of the stragglers, you make way to find Ellie amidst of all the chaos that follows her and you come face to face with a blast from the past

word count: 2,754 im gonna make up for all these short chapters i swear!!

content warnings: blood mention (i mean c'mon y'all know exactly what this fic is), animal death, somebody gets murdered a bit violently

notes: just wanna say a little thank you for all the recent influx of subs/bookmarks/comments/kudos/follows on here and on ao3, y'all warm my heart. also, the next few chapters will deviate from the tlou timeline to make way for some angst :^))))

read on ao3 here / masterlist

Your lungs were burning with each breath. Huffs escaped you. Aches filtered through your body. Running, chasing, fighting. Ellie was in deep shit and you prayed she was alright. Following after her path, you tracked your girl.

It didn’t take much to figure out which way Ellie went, between the very obvious messy shoe prints of the men chasing after her and the hoof-marks. It made finding her all that much easier. You trekked through the slosh of the muddied snow until you came across a striking stain of red. Your steps faltered and you took the sight in, the sight of blood in between all the white and brown that overlooked a small cliff. Stopping dead in your tracks, your breath hitched as you peered over.

A gasp in horror escaped you when you saw the lifeless body of dear Callus. Quickly jumping, you dropped from the ledge he was under and landed on your knees with a harsh ‘oomph’. The pain tingled up to your spine.

Scrambling up to check on Callus, looking for any sign Ellie was hurt only to find none. You brushed the dark hair on the horse, “I’m sorry Callus.” Mentally sending an apology to Cherry too. She was going to be sad when she hears but if anything, she’d take the apology in exacting revenge on his murderers.

Kneeling on the cold ground, you sent a silent wish to the stars, wishing that Callus will be taken care off wherever he is, noting how he was such a good horse, how he will be greatly missed but was certainly loved. He may have been just a horse, but even then, horses were smart and sentient. He knew.

Just as you finished your well-wishes, the horror quickly engulfed your mind. The worry grew for just a moment as you continued on the path, leaving the dear horse behind until you stumbled upon dead body after dead body, all leading in a patch down to a lake then to a little cabin, long since forgotten shops, and up the stairs to some sort of lakeside hotel, anger finally settling in your bones.

You found yourself following a trail of blood, gore, and footsteps, pride warming in your chest. That’s my girl, you silently praised. You drew a knife and a gun, as you approached what looked to be some lakeside market, too many hidey holes to walk through here confidently. Nevertheless, you marched on.

The path led you to an abandoned lodge overlooking the lake but no sign of Ellie, just more dead bodies of those bastards.

It would have been a beautiful sight long ago, in the time before. Now it was an empty and hollow shell of its former self, littered with gore.

Even shuffling as quickly as you could through the main hall of the resort yielded nothing to finding your dear young companion, not as the sun was really setting low. Had that much time passed, you thought worriedly.

You kicked an overturned table and groaned loudly, not giving a shit if somebody heard you. Letting yourself be mad for just a moment before taking a deep breath and exhaling. At this point, you weren’t sure if you’d want to move stealthy, try and make as much noise as possible just to take some of the heat off your girl.

Frustrated still, you left the resort and circled outside to locate another set of footsteps, likely of them chasing after her. It looked almost as if there was a small fucking army chasing her but still, you didn’t spot anybody. Much to your chagrin.

Taking off once more, you cursed as the visibility lowered. The snow was progressively picking up all around you causing some of the footsteps to slowly disappear.

It was swirling around in a thick blanket in the air, covering the footsteps you had been following. It felt like you were running against the clock and you took off running, focused on the remaining trail until you heard it.

Loud and metallic. A bell. Faint but there. A city center with a tolling bell possibly?

You didn't think twice about changing your direction and moving faster through the storm.

Motivated even more so, you continued on this path, following the chime until you came into view of a cheap haphazardly thrown together defense wall. Ducking behind a nearby structure, you looked on, assessing it as best you could with the little visibility you had.

Faintly, you could make out concrete walls with some barbaric barbed wire thrown lazily against it, many many weaknesses here and there. Most importantly, you noticed there was nobody manning the walls.

You ran and ducked every so often, listening for voices but finding none. Instead, you followed the bloodied trail Ellie left behind her. It was almost like a taunt to the others in this community, or maybe even a gumdrop-like trail for you, screaming ‘come find me’. Whatever it was, only a mark of design by the tough kid wanting nothing but to simply stay alive.

Pocketing your weapons, you took a few steps back then ran.

It was almost too easy to just jump the fence but you did, after hesitating ever so slightly. Your breaths were now heavy huffs, your lungs were cursing you to stop but you refused to, not when Ellie was in danger.

Then, arming yourself with your knives you tried to make your way through the town as stealthy as possible. Only taking out whoever was in your path but aiming not to make a spectacle before you could locate Ellie within this town.

Every time you took down one of those gruesome bastards, you didn’t dare to stop and search them. Your only goal was to find Ellie. You could hear the men talking about her and how she got away, sparking pride within you once more as you took off, following the chaos she left in her wake. Noting how some of the bodies were still warm, their leaked blood still sticky.

Turning the corner of a mechanics garage, a loud thunderous snap echoed through the area.

Startled, you pulled back into a crouch and watched as a large fire erupted in the distance. That spark of hope igniting as bright as the fire, signaling Ellie fighting back like hell.

“Shit,” you sighed trying to catch your breath. You rose to your feet and took off faster now, headed towards the explosion.

Off through the thick sheet of snow, you could faintly make out a large sign above a dinner, displaying the name Todd’s across it. You could hear somebody yelling from inside and aimed for it, the fire barely catching your attention.

Time was running against you, as it always did. The fire grew hotter, the building more dangerous. These were the least of your worries.

You were beyond frustrated as you circled the building, aside from the very obvious and intentional door being lit on fire that was growing at a rapid pace, there were no other entrances you could see aside from a dozen unbroken windows.

It took a couple tries to find an entrance that was viable, feeling like you were running out of time as the male voice from inside grew louder, as you could hear bullets fly just as the man was yelling. Thankfully you did find a cracked window.

Judging by the amount of noise already happening inside and assessing the risk, you figured breaking it wouldn’t alert anybody so you did just that and crawled through, doing your best not to scrape your knees.

Gaining your footing, you looked around and saw you were in some sort of kitchen for the diner. There were large stainless steel surfaces, looking moderately clean. That’s not what got your attention, but the screaming match happening in the dining area.

It took you a minute but you got close to the ground, snapping to the corner as to not give away your position, not as you saw a large man with a beard towering over a small figure- Ellie.

Your brows furrowed in anger as you ran, planning on tackling this man but he was knocked over to the side as Ellie wacked at him endlessly with a machete, hacking him to death. Overkill.

One, two, three. Each swing she grew more and more violent,

Yelling for her to stop, she continued her attack, until you grabbed her against her back, holding her close to stop her. She tried to fight against you, almost throwing you to the ground. “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” Petting her hair, trying to calm her down, she recognized your voice and she slumped in your arms.

You were exhausted, the adrenaline slowly leaving your blood gave way to the roaring pain in your lungs and muscles. Surely you’d be sore for the coming days. Even so, the pain would have been nothing next to losing either Joel or Ellie.

The two of you stayed like that, holed up in a grimey embrace for a few moments. You repeatedly ran your fingers through her tangled up brown hair as she hiccupped the last of her sobs into your coat. The only sounds permeating the moment were of Ellie and the fire.

Fuck. The fire.

Just as you realized the predicament the two of you were in, the blackened smoke scratched and irritated your eyes, throat, and lungs. It was suffocating you and doing worse to Ellie,

If it weren’t for the raging blaze that was spreading, you would have left much sooner. “Sweetheart, I think it’s time to go.”

Ellie didn’t respond and you were about to repeat yourself until you heard heavy footfalls behind you. Moving the distraught and distracted teen slightly, you drew one of your guns and aimed, about to shoot but were stopped when you took notice of just who was standing there, palms up in defense.

Joel.

Joel was alive, right there.

Ellie recognized him before you could even register what was happening. She jumped out of your arms into his, babbling about David and crying once more. He calmed her, mumbling “Oh, baby girl… It’s okay, it’s okay.”

You watched from the floor as he tried to wipe the blood from her tear stained cheeks, barely keeping your own shit together.

“C’mon,” he said, not looking at you, “let’s get outta here.”

You rose from your haunches, swaying just a little at the inner emotional whirlwind you were facing mixed on top of the physical toll you were feeling. You watched as Joel put his arm around Ellie, walking her out the way he came in. Both of them were limping slightly. Following the two of them, you kicked the dead man just once as Joel led you both out of the burning building to your horse, Whiskey.

He turned around to say something but cut himself off, taking in the sight of you. “Shit, Are you okay?”

You followed his gaze to where your clothes were coated in a disastrous mixture of blood, dirt, and stars know what else. “It’s not mine.”

He looked like he wanted to look you over but he focused on Ellie instead, giving her a helping hand onto the horse. Joel gestured for you to get on behind her but you shook him off, “No. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

“If you don’t get on the goddamned-,” he began to argue but you shut him down.

“I’m not going to fuckin’ argue with you right now.” You checked over your horse, noticing how Joel didn’t bring anything then approached Ellie, “Hey, sweetheart. Think you can handle leading Whiskey and Joel back to the house?”

She wiped away her tears and nodded, “I think so.”

“Good. I’ll see you there soon.”

Joel opened his mouth to counter you but you stood up to him, on your toes. You had grabbed his jacket and pulled him close, getting in his face. “You take our girl back to the fuckin’ house and you make sure neither you nor her go off the rails or so help me, I will finish what that rebar started and end you. Got it?”

You were tired, you were angry, you were relieved. But most of all, you were pissed the fuck off. Not necessarily at him but at, well, at everything. Being this troupe’s sole caretaker for the past few weeks was taking its toll.

Just as you got into his face, he got into yours. At only a hair's breadth away he threatened you all the same, “You do not get to be angry with me, you do not get to push me around, got it?”

His brown eyes bore into yours, you could see he was more exhausted than anything but you were not going to let him be the judge of what happens next. “Fuck you, Joel Miller. We saved your life, hell, I saved your life. You owe me. Now you’re going to get on that fucking horse with Ellie and you are going to the safe house and we are leaving this goddamned shithole. Together. In one piece.”

“Please, Joel, let’s get out of here,” Ellie’s weak voice interrupted.

The near-dyin’ old bastard opened his mouth to counter you again but decided against it. Most likely for Ellie’s sake.

Joel leans close to you and whispers a threat in your ear, “If you’re not back by nightfall, we’ll leave without you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you snap.

He takes a half step back, his tired brown eyes meeting yours. For a flash you think he wants to apologize but he doesn’t, his pride wouldn’t let him anyways. This was the game the two of you have played all these months. This push-and-pull bullshit. It was tiresome in situations like these, the dire need of survival, but during those blissful moments of reprieve, it brought you joy.

Joel’s heavy footfalls penetrated the tense air even as he saddled up in front of Ellie. He calls your name and in his roundabout way, bargains with you. “Come back alive.”

Before you could even answer or reply, he’s off with a huff. Ellie strapped closely behind him.

Watching them go, you ducked and retraced your steps in the heavy and blinding snow. The storm hadn’t let up and likely wouldn’t any time soon. It worked well into your favor for now.

The journey back wasn’t as arduous or as dramatic as the way forward but you made it back to the safe house without incident. The whole time your mind juggled between the mixed emotions of Joel. Gratitude he was alive, joy that he was walking and talking, anger that he was walking and talking and not resting.

There was just a lot happening all at once. It’s why you wanted to be alone for the time being. Too many emotions swirled in you, too many thoughts, too much of everything. The bitter cold nipping at your fingertips helped, kept you grounded.

At least until you heard the low grumbling of Joel coaxing Ellie back to the land of the living, much as you both did the same to him these past few weeks. His voice trailed up the basement and didn’t stop as your steps echoed through the stairwell.

When you stopped at the final landing did you look up. He was holding her close as she cried, she still hadn’t stopped. His hands, bruised and bloodied from stars know what, coaxed themselves through her messy hair. The sight of them both covered in other people’s blood hurt you in ways that no wound could ever compare to.

He was whispering nothings to her, praises for her fighting, echoing words of ‘shh, it’s okay’, repeatedly in a low soft voice. You came close to the two of them sitting on the lone mattress, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back.”

Joel looked up at you again, looking over you. Taking in the sight of you now. He gave you a tense nod as Ellie reached around for your hand and squeezed it. Once she let you go you brushed her hair from her face and slowly stood.

“I’m going to pack up everything and we’re going to leave here, put this shit behind us.”

The two of them said nothing but Joel caught your eye and silently, you both came to an agreement. Whatever bullshit you two had, when it came to Ellie, she came first.

Isn’t that what family is for?

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Show Pony

Chapter 6

Winds Change

Read on Ao3

Five days.

They had five days left together.

Billy tried not to think about it, but it was kinda hard to ignore.

Stalls were already being taken down, fair games being packed up into large shipping trucks to take across the country.

One of Max’s beloved funnel cake stalls had already met the way of the shipping container. She was pissed.

And yet, Billy and Steve did their best to pretend like the rodeo wasn’t coming down around them.

A perfect symbolism for their fling, or whatever, crashing down everywhere they look.

Billy spent days in Steve’s sweaty little airstream, brushing his fingers over that muscular body, calling him a hick and a horse girl and every other fake insult he could think of.

And Steve spent all that time lacing his fingers with Billy’s, winking at him from his place on top of one of his three gorgeous mares as he did victory lap after victory lap, roping calves in under ten seconds, slamming Billy against the walls of the airstream, adrenaline from the stunt still pumping through him.

The field saw them exercising Steve’s horses, taking a ratty blanket out there in the middle of the night to watch the stars.

And it was stupid, Billy pretending that this was more than just. A convenience.

Steve was on his knees, and Billy threaded his hands into that thick hair, tugging it this way and that, the way he’s learned Steve likes after some weeks of mewling whines.

Billy was backed up against the gate of the makeshift paddock, shielded by the prying eyes of the other rodeo workers by the long-set sun and the sounds of the day’s crowds filtering out of the grounds.

Steve pushed down, taking Billy’s cock all the way in his throat, breathing heavily through his nose, the nose currently pressed flat against Billy’s pelvis.

Steve was a champion at a few things: calf roping, horse riding, and dick sucking.

He pulled off Billy’s dick with a slurp, rolling his tongue along the head, humming slightly as he did. His eyes were dark, staring up at Billy, something like a smirk sparking in them as Billy fell apart.

He took a breath, ready to move back in and finish Billy off when there were footsteps.

“Steve! I gotta check Loretta’s hock.”

They both froze, Steve’s eyes going wide with shock, his lips still stretched around the cock in his mouth.

Billy had yet to meet Jim Hopper, the horse specialist that watched out for Steve’s three mares.

He guesses he was about to meet the man right about now.

Steve yanked his face off Billy’s cock with an unmistakable slurping sound that made Billy’s face go bright fuckin’ red. Billy fumbled with the fly on his shorts, and Steve took charge, roughly pulling the button closed and the zip up. It was a miracle he didn’t catch any skin with the quick action.

Steve was on his feet as Jim rounded the edge of the fencing, eyeing the two of them standing far too close, Billy’s face red and full of guilt. Jim raised a hand, his eyes closing as he breathed heavily out his nose.

“I don’t wanna know. Just let me take a look at your girl.”

Steve shrugged, acting like this whole ordeal was just another day at the rodeo.

Maybe it is, Billy’s brain supplied.

They were so fucking. Obvious. Billy could just drop dead right there on the grass.

Jim was a big dude. Beefy and broad, his face was clearly weather-beaten. Well, what of his face wasn’t covered with a graying beard and mustache. His left cheek pudged out slightly with what Billy realized was chewing tobacco when he spit casually at his feet.

“This is Billy. I told you about him,” Steve said with a smirk.

And Billy just about had a heart attack when Steve made a big show of wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, smirkin’ like the devil.

“Yeah, kid, I’m just here for Letty.”

The horses had been allocated to the horsebox for the night, as it was much warmer in there for them. Not that it was cold in San Diego at night, but still. Steve worried. Billy thought it was cute.

Steve led Jim off towards the box, clapping him once on the shoulder as he passed, making Jim groan and spit a dollop of yellow-brown saliva after Steve.

Billy felt like he was about to turn into some thick hot liquid shame when Jim gave him a bit of a once-over, raising one thick eyebrow at him. Jim’s mustache twitched, and he spit to the side before turning on his heel, following Steve to the horses.

Billy has never been more mortified in his life.

Steve’s mentioned Jim a lot. He always calls him Hop. Said Steve himself gave him that nickname. Billy has kinda sussed out that Jim is something like a pseudo-dad to Steve. The one to teach him how to really care for the horses. The one to teach him to properly tie a calf.

All the shit that Steve was made of, Jim taught him.

Billy had put together that Jim’s daughter was the one Max was scampering about the grounds with. Steve said he had adopted Elle when she was about seven.

His face gave something away when he said that. Making a look that said there was a story there, but Billy didn’t wanna ask.

It’s not his story to know.

Billy followed after them, keeping a wide enough berth from the pair that it was weird. He knew it was weird. But it was either this type of weird, or the weird of inserting himself into their conversation when Jim obviously knew what they had been doing seconds before he found them. Steve was about as subtle as a gun with those grass stains on his knees, wiping at his face like he needed to prove a point.

Billy lingered outside the horsebox.

Loretta had been lagging lately, and she startled whenever Steve laid a hand on her left leg.

Steve had just about sobbed when he told Billy he thinks she’s hurt herself.

Billy wished he had a cigarette right about now.

“Yeah, I think the poor girl’s just havin’ some inflammation. Probably tweaked her leg just right on the arena dirt.”

“Is she gonna be okay? What does she need?” Steve sounded more serious than Billy’s ever heard him. There was a weight to his voice that only reared up when Steve mentioned his father, a slight quiver in his words that made his anxiety palpable.

“She’s a tough one, Letty. Let her rest for about two weeks, only mild walking, and some ice at the end of the day wouldn’t hurt, either. We’ll talk after that and see if she needs anything more.”

There was something of a pause in the horsebox, and Billy held his breath, ignoring the fact that he was clearly eavesdropping now.

“You being careful with that boy?”

“‘Course I am.”

“Because I meant what I said last time. I’m not posing as your dad to get you an appointment at the clinic again-”

“ Jesus, Hop. I thought we agreed never to talk about that again, huh? And besides, I’m grown. I can make appointments for my own STD tests now. Plus, it was all fine.”

Billy nearly choked.

It’s not that he’s never had a scare before, and he and Steve were safe, but still.

“Good to hear, then. But you being careful ?” There was another silence from the box. One of the horses whinnied.

When Jim continued, it was with a much softer voice than before.

“I ain’t never seen you so attached before.”

The horse whinnied again, and Billy pictured Steve wrapping his arms around June’s neck and hugging her close.

“He’s under my skin now.” A scuff that sounded like Steve’s boot brushing against the hay-covered floor of the box. “First time I wasn’t ready for a fling to be over.”

Those words crashed into Billy’s gut, knocking all the wind out of him.

He suffocated on them, drowned in Steve’s melancholy voice as he said them.

First time I wasn’t ready for a fling to be over.

It stung at the same time it made Billy’s heart soar.

It hurt and it healed and it made Billy wanna throw up and lock Steve in his basement so he could never leave him.

Or maybe something less totally wacked-out and creepy.

“You know I love you like my own, but you gotta manage yourself. I ain’t judgin’, I just don’t wanna see you all hurt again.”

“Jeez, that was some real sappy shit there.” The mood shifted with Steve’s deflection, and Billy could hear footsteps leaving the horsebox.

He scrambled over to Steve’s little airstream, pretending he hadn’t been listening and freaking out over what he was hearing.

There was just. There was a whole lot to take in there.

Jim said he didn’t want to see Steve all hurt again, but also said he’s never seen Steve so attached before.

When had he been all hurt before if this was, in Steve’s words, the first time he wasn’t ready for a fling to be over?

And Billy didn’t want to hurt Steve, but it kinda, in a real shitty way, made him feel a little bit better that he wasn’t the only one ignoring the oncoming end out of sadness and a need to prolong whatever they had left.

That, and the added little bonus that Jim had once pretended to be Steve’s father to get him an STD test from a clinic.

Billy feels like he’s been punched in the face over and over again by that short conversation he heard. And he would know. He’s been decked in the kisser too many times to think about.

He leaned against the cold metal wall of the airstream as Steve came into view, Jim heading in the opposite direction towards the fairgrounds and the rodeo being shut down for the night.

Steve smiled at Billy, this soft, calm little thing that made the warm summer air even sweeter in Billy’s lungs and the words keep ringing through his head.

First time I wasn’t ready for a fling to be over.

He could see something in Steve, now that he knew what to look for.

How carefree and easy he seemed anytime he was around Billy, but those devastating moments when he seemed to bite his tongue against saying something more meaningful, or shied away from a briefly intimate touch.

Billy could finally see his own anxiety in Steve at their dwindling time together, and it broke his fucking heart.

Robin had warned Billy not to get attached. She told him Steve slept around and played the field and left before anyone could get in too deep.

But he wonders if Robin had warned Steve against the same thing. If she had told him that Billy was going to fuck and run. That leaving someone behind can sometimes hurt just as much as being left behind.

He hopes that if she hasn’t, she’ll be there for Steve. That she’ll pick him up and won’t let him break his own precious heart anymore.

“So, how’s Loretta?”

“She’ll be okay. Poor lady just needs some rest and some ice, and she’ll be feeling her best in a few weeks.”

Steve matched Billy’s stance, leaning against the trailer and tilting his face to the starry sky.

It was quiet out in the sea of trailers. Now that the spectators had all gone home for the night, the cheering crowds and amplified commentators weren’t reverberating through the open grass.

Instead, they could hear the rodeo animals that had been put in their nighttime areas. The many whineys and brays from different horses spread through the place.

The rodeo seemed so fucking magic to Billy.

Something like Heaven.

“I’m going soon.”

Billy doesn’t know why Steve said it.

They both knew that fact.

He thought they were both aggressively ignoring that fact.

“Yeah. You are.”

Billy didn’t know what to do with his hands.

He really didn’t want to have this conversation. Ever.

Because talking about it makes it real.

And God fucking forbid Steve breaks it off now and not in the allotted five days they still have to laugh and fuck and be free .

He pulled out his slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes, lighting one deftly.

Steve didn’t smoke. Said his grandpa died really horribly of lung cancer.

Billy knew this was going to be a serious talk when Steve didn’t make one of his usual snide remarks about Billy smoking.

“I just wanted. To be sure,” Steve trailed off, still looking at the spangled night sky. “We need to be on the same page.”

That we’re probably, most definitely, in love with one another but too stupid and too poorly timed and too tragic to say anything about it.

“I think we are.”

“Okay. Okay. Good. Because, I mean, I really don’t want to hurt you, and, like, our arrangement’s been the same since the beginning.”

Arrangement.

That word.

Arrangement.

It was a fucking ugly word for whatever beautiful thing they had between them.

Arrangement.

It made Billy feel cheap, and used, and so fucking stupid.

And feeling like that only meant one thing for Billy.

He got fucking mad.

“So, that’s it then. You’re done with me. Onto the next poor sucker in the next shitty town that’ll fuck you through the mattress and hold your hand until you decide you’re sick of ‘em. Great. It was so nice being your fucking whore. Thanks for the. Opportunity.”

He wished he chewed tobacco like Jim. He would spit a glob at Steve’s foot. Probably make it land right on those stupid fucking red cowboy boots.

Steve finally looked at Billy, his face scrunched up and those beautiful eyes of his looking somewhere between lost and hurt and angry and confused.

“Billy, that’s not what I-”

“No. No, Harrington, I fucking get it. You go town to town, and feed these fuckers a sob story about how hard it is for you to connect with people, and that you’re lonely and your dad sucks, and all this other bullshit. When really, you’re just an insecure asshole with intimacy problems who’s too fucking stupid to get a fucking GED.”

Fuck.

The second the words were out of his mouth, Billy knew he had gone way too fucking far.

Steve’s eyes flashed, and his face seemed to morph right in front of Billy’s eyes. He was closing himself off right where they stood. Getting ready to chuck Billy away and never see him again.

And Billy fucking deserved it.

“You’re calling me an insecure asshole with intimacy problems? The only friends you’ve got are coworkers that only pity you because they can see how fucking pathetic you are. You beg for scraps like a fucking dog and the second things get tough you ignore it, or get angry at it, like a stupid goddamn child . You think you’re so tough. That you’re the only one with problems . You’ve got your head so far up your own ass that you don’t realize that shit sucks all over, and that everyone is just as miserable as you are, we’re just able to fucking make something out of ourselves instead of wallowing in self-pity.”

Steve’s little speech left Billy feeling dumbfounded.

He was seething with a rage he had never felt in his life before. Anger at himself, and anger at Steve for being so fucking right. For letting all of Billy’s flaws and insecurities tumble out of his mouth like they were nothing.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, leaning forward to put it out against the door of the airstream, leaving a tiny circular ash print on the painted cow. It looked like a bullet wound on the poor thing.

It’s how Billy felt.

“I hope your horse fucking dies.”

It was childish.

It was so dumb, and childish, and Billy really doesn’t hope any horse anywhere dies, especially Steve’s three wonderful mares, but he’s feeling something he thinks he could call jilted, and he’s hurt and upset and genuinely at a loss.

He didn’t let Steve get another word in. Just turned on his heel, and left the little cowboy behind.

#woop woop i like this chapter a lot please enjoy!#show pony #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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emma-nation · 3 years

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone.

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub.

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance.

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black.

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain.

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall.

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted.

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him?

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug.

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you.

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink.

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders.

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

#andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #andy barber x you #hey i wrote that lol

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wolfuckstar · 3 years

Text

Handmade Heaven

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31377314/chapters/77593565

1st august, 1986, Friday, 4 days till New Moon.

Day after Harry's sixth birthday.

Keiss, north end of Sinclair's Bay, east coast of Caithness, Scotland.

Summer.

7 AM.

"When you learn to ride the bike, I will let you use the broom."

"I don't understand why I got a broom if I can't use THE BROOM."

Remus laughed from where he was sitting, the Daily Prophet covering his face from the wind, his winter robe over his sweatshirt.

"For the fifth time" Sirius yawned, probably still indignant at having risen with the sun on an unusually cloudy Friday for a summer. The man ran his hand over his beard, opened his mouth to continue talking, but seemed to think better of it and gave up.

"I want to fly on the broom!" As irritating as the boy could be, the two missing teeth in front of his mouth would not let any of the men present take him seriously.

"Well, I want a new record, are you going to give me one?"

Remus put the paper down and gave Sirius a dismayed look.

"I don't care about your record." Harry's bottom lip was almost quivering now.

"Don't you care about David Bowie's Labyrinth?"

The boy seemed to be in doubt now. And Sirius looked more awake than he did 5 minutes ago, which was great. But not that great, since he had forgotten the packet of cigarettes inside the house and the only place he could smoke was outside.

"Don't you care about Queen's Kind of Magic?!" He asked, his voice emphatic and a playful, slightly insane look on his pillow-stained face.

The six-year-old boy seemed to think for a moment, but his green eyes behind the round lenses of his glasses soon found the Nimbus 85 leaning against the entrance door of the house and his expression went rigid again.

"I want to fly! Moony!’’ Harry called.

"Harry, dear" Remus had already given up on finishing reading the news, and threw the newspaper on the woody floor of the porch while answering loudly so that they could hear him from the small road after the fence "If you manage to ride the bike till the lamppost and back three times, we'll let you ride the broom, okay?" He reached over to the small table beside him to reach for the cup of tea, trying hard not to sigh at the stinging pains in his ribs and elbows. The happiness he'd felt when they figured it out that the full moon was over a week before Harry's birthday had passed, and all he could feel were the consequences of the damage. He knew he should remain optimistic, there was no point in brooding over his sufferings, he and Sirius had learned that over the past six years. He could allow himself to feel the pain, but at some point, you just have to let it go.

Keiss had an elementary school, which was a surprise at first. On the outside, the building looked like just one of the small houses on High Street, two stories, two windows, simple plant pots made of clay scattered on the asphalt of the sidewalk. Harry had started attending school a year ago and frequently went to the small park next to it even on weekends, when they were too tired to walk to the ruins on the beach or when they just didn't want to eat sandwiches sitting on the stone wall of the harbor. Sometimes, they visited the field next to the school to teach him how to play football. Remus would teach them while Sirius would make contemptuous comments about how much better Quidditch was and how Muggles didn't use their imagination, but in the end, it was just because he didn't know how to play.

There was a church on South Street, parallel to High Street. And, like everything else in Keiss, you could see the church from the school, and the beach from the church, and the beach from anywhere in the village. There, the vastness of the sky, the grass, and the sea seemed to swallow up everything else, suffocating them with peace, freedom, and salt air.

They did not live exactly in Keiss’s downtown, but just a few minutes walking would take them there. They didn't have a car either. There was no need. They owned an old, faded blue and rusty bicycle that they used when they needed to go shopping. And now, there was the red children's bicycle, bought in Wick, a town to the south, also in Caithness County. Remus and Sirius had agreed to give Harry the broom, as long as the boy also learned to ride a bicycle. Once the two men understood that this was what Lily would like, it had been easy not to worry about the money that would spend on the present.

After a few minutes explaining the whole theory behind the practice, Harry seemed minimally ready to try it himself and Sirius removed his hand from the bicycle seat, where he was holding to balance it. The boy took half a step forward and fell to the side, falling obtusely on the asphalt.

The men waited a moment before making any moves or questions. They had learned that, depending on how they reacted, Harry tended to cry or not.

The boy rested his hands on the floor and looked at the godfather with a crease between his eyebrows as if he had understood something incredibly difficult.

"If I had fallen off the broom, it would have hurt more, wouldn't it?" Harry found out.

Sirius Black threw his head back in a laugh that reverberated through the silent properties around him.

"Come on" The man bowed, extending his hand, helping him to his feet. When Harry was already standing, Black ran his hands over his little legs, removing the dirt from the small pointed and scraped knees. Sirius saw that the glasses were slightly crooked and adjusted them, still laughing "If you pick up speed, the bike won't tip over."

"If I go faster ..." The boy thought out loud "How am I going to stop? I don't know how to stop.”

"Er ..." The man was clearly not a big bike connoisseur.

"Use the brakes, Harry." Remus replied as he approached, extending the second cup of tea to Sirius "Use the brakes and put a foot on the pavement slowly."

The boy nodded and picked up the bike from the floor. Black helped him to give momentum, accompanying him with his hand on the back of the bench to give balance. After a few steps, he released it again. Sirius went back to Remus and took the cup of tea as he said.

"Sometimes I forget that he is only six years old." He took a sip "He's so smart."

A few meters ahead, Harry fell again.

The boy stood still for a few seconds, probably wondering if any damage had been done that would be worth crying. Still lying on the floor, he looked back and smiled at the two men, then got up.

"At least, he thinks for a while before being dramatic." Remus smiled behind the cup "Unlike some."

Sirius shoved him lightly with his shoulder.

"Idiot."

They looked at the boy, who was now putting the bicycle in their direction to pedal back to the front of the house.

"I don't think I managed to say good morning to you with Harry jumping on the bed," Black commented, looking away from the boy.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to say good night too with the number of scratches that I will have to cure later." Remus replies, but leans in anyway, resting his chin on the other's shoulder, inhaling Sirius Black's scent until he feels ecstatic and whisper "Good morning."

"Good morning." As he leaned in to answer, Sirius' beard crawled along the side of his cheek, causing shivers on his back.

Some birds from the ocean sang above their heads. The green grass of the surrounding properties rustled in the wind. The sun was a bright spot in the cloud-covered sky. There were no mountains, just the immensity of fields interrupted by small lakes and the North Sea.

"Maybe we should tell Harry to start pressing the brakes now," Sirius murmured, his voice slightly concerned.

Lupin raised his head in time to see the boy speeding towards them.

“Moony! Pads! Look! Pads! At full speed!” Harry repeated the phrase his godfather had said. The wind laced his black hair back, and his toothless smile melted more than the surface of the hearts of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

"The brakes, Harry!"

Unfortunately, Remus had to heal scratches on more than one person that night.

#my writing #wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar raising harry #wolfstar raised Harry #the marauders #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #remus x sirius #Harry Potter

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

Text

✨ Seven days of:

Day #3.

✨ REQUEST: Request for El Presidente 😁 I've been thinking of this idea: Maybe Bishop is trying to flirt with the reader but we all know he's flirty with most women so the reader doesn't think much of it until they are at a party and “...How long has he been flirting with me?” another mayan: “Only the entire time.” [ I hope you haven't written something like this. I love you 💖]

✨ MADE BY: @ocetevasgirl

WORDS: about 1.9k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

“C'mon, dance with me”.

The whisper into your ear takes you by surprise, producing you some shivers down your spin. Turning around, you frown to El Presidente. Being insistent as fuck is a personality and it's his.

“Ay, ya, Obispo. I can't believe Vicki is running out of girls to flirt with”. Rolling your eyes, you have a drink from your beer.

“Have I told you how good my name sounds in your lips?” He replies not caring a shit about what you have said. “Vamos... You never dance with me”.

“Yeah, and today is not gonna be the day it changes”. Palming his chest with your free hand, you raise both eyebrows.

“Why?”

“Because I ain't a number on your list. It's called self-love”.

“Who said I want you to be a number?”

Rolling your eyes, you can't believe that he's denying the fact that he flirts with you the whole time. You like him, and you have been about to fall into his claws a lot of times, but then you see him with another girl sitting on his lap, or clinged to his arm. The deception is bigger every time.

“Why don't you give up at damn once?”

Not giving him the opportunity to respond, you pass him away with a loud snort. Getting out of the clubhouse, you're able to have a deep breath of fresh air closing your eyes, guiding after that your steps to the sofa on the porch. Resting your feet over the wooden fence and lying back against your seat, trying to keep blank your mind. The silence outside helps you more than you could think, only being broken by the crickets around you and the bonfire in the middle of the yard.

You aren't sure when he started to act like that. At the beginning of meeting you he was kind, respectful and sweet. But bit by bit, you started to see his intentions. Being aware that the only thing he wants from you is a one night-stand. It's painful, even if you don't want to recognize it, because you were feeling something. Something good. Until he changed. Then it turned into sarcasm and rage. Every time that you turn him down, he finds his way to one of those bitches who are always in the club, cheering the view. And of course it's not their fault, but maybe if they weren't there, things would be different.

“Can I sit?”

Taza claims your attention with a soft tone of voice, pointing with a hand to the empty seat by your side. Showing him a fleeting smile, you nod in silence. As soon as he sits down, the man places his free arm over your shoulders to urge you to rest your head on his.

“What's happening inside that beautiful mind, ah?”

“You already know it”.

He draws an oh in his lips, before chuckling shaking his head.

“He's really in love with you”.

“No, he's not. And, god, please! Don't take his side”.

“I would never lie to you, chamaquita. The problem resides in that he doesn't know how to show it properly. You're the whole time kicking his ass and he's desperate for opening your eyes”. That sounds like a possibility. Like a valid one. “Why don't you give him a chance? We have closed a deal that has given us a lot of privileges. He's happy and he only wants to celebrate it with y—”.

The main door opening interrupts your conversation, seeing the crew abandoning the club.

“We're going to Vicki's, you comen'?” Coco asks, having a smoke.

Taza looks at you, arching a brow, but you shake your head getting up.

“Do you want me to ride you home?”

“Nah, don't worry. I will walk, so I can… clear my mind”.

Placing a kiss on your forehead, the older joins his brothers as you come inside the club. The silence is installed all around, once the buzz of the engines disappear through the scrapping. You were wanting to stay a little more, because you don’t have any other plans for tonight than this. And you’re not in the mood to come back home, so you are thinking about finding a bar to drink, even if it means to be alone.

When you’re about to grab your jacket from a chair, the crash between two pool balls calls your attention. Turning around with the piece of clothing covering your forearms, you find Bishop standing up from the table with a cig in his lips. You can see him pretending normality with his eyes focused on his own game. Not understanding why he hasn’t gone to Vicki’s place, you’re starting to think that maybe he did on purpose. Pressing the inside of your cheek with the tip of your tongue, you can’t help but contain a laugh by showing up a smile.

“Need a partner?”

Having a smoke and swallowing it before spitting it, the mexican turns to a side to grab another stick and offer it to you in silence. So, that’s a yes. Putting your jacket back on the chair and leaving on the poker table your phone, you two start a new game after placing all the balls forming a triangle. Bishop gives you some space, resting his back against the wall, to see how you break the formation with an accurate hit sneaking a striped red ball into a hole, in the middle of the pool. It’s the first time he plays against you, and he isn’t sure that he has seen you playing before. But he knows that it’s going to be an interesting game. Holding his stick between both of his legs under your attentive gaze, El Presidente takes off the clock in his right wrist and the ring from the same hand.

“Since when are we competing?” Tossing a loud laughter, you place both hands over the tip of your stick, resting your chin there.

“If I win, you will give me a kiss”. Bishop sounds very convinced of beating you, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt under the kutte. And you know he’s going to play hard, when he also takes off the leather garment to put it away.

Licking your bottom lip, squinting at him you offer him a hand to accept the deal.

“If you lose, you will stop with this… flirt, or whatever it is”.

At first, he doubts. You’re not stupid, you know that he will never stop flirting with you, but for a moment, you doubt too. Until he finally shakes your hand firmly, secure of himself.

Ball against ball, striped and smooth, they all end up falling through the different holes of the pool table. When the only one left is the number eight, you notice the tension installed between both. It’s your turn and Bishop is expectant, making you feel nervous with that grin contained under his black moustache. Leaning over the table with your gaze focused on the tip about to hit the ball, you calculate the exact way it has to take. Pulling it back, you move it forth with a fast move to beat the eight. Straight to the hole, bouncing against the wooden wall and coming back to the table.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Bishop breaks into laughs, not being able what just happened. It was inside the hole and that motherfucking ball didn’t fall through it.

“YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME! I WON! IT WAS INSIDE IT!”

Screaming like a madwoman and pointing at the pool with a hand, you turn at him. The man is running out of air, choking in laughs and almost arching back his body.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, estúpido”. Palming his shoulder with more strength than you wanted to use, he complains this time. “I’m not playing anymore, I won”.

“You didn’t”. The man leans over the table, doing exactly your same moves, but having more lucky than you.

“I’m not gonna fucking kiss you”.

“Sweetheart, how many times you can say fucking in a sentence?”

“Every two fucking words”.

Chuckling and taking off from your hands the stick, he places it in the holder close to his.

“I’m going to be a good man, and let you kiss my face wherever you want”.

Taking your right hand, Bishop pushes you into his arms, wrapping with them your waist. And even if for a moment you want to put up some resistance, deep inside you being hugged by him is everything you want. There’s still a couple inches of distance between both when you toss your hands on his shoulders respectively, rolling your eyes as if you were feeling uncomfortable. Leaning forward, you press your lips on his cheek. The fucking longer two seconds of your life. But if you were thinking that this would be enough for him, it isn’t.

Bishop embraces you tightly against himself, making you feel warm and loved for the first time in your life. It’s not only the gesture, but what he is transmitting you with it. Now you’re believing what Taza has told you almost an hour again. And you don’t reply with a single word, when he starts to kiss your face with such dearly touches, as he speaks.

“I want you —one on your neck— to be mine —another going up to the line of your jaw— and only mine —the last one close to the corner of your lips—, why don't you believe me?”

His facial hair makes you some tickles, provoking you a long shiver that bristles your skin. There’s no distance between you two, guiding your steps backwards until your body meets the pool table. His mouth is coming closer to yours, tasting the waters just in case that you really want to push him away. But you don’t. You don’t do it, closing your eyes as soon as he presses his lips against yours.

You can taste the flavor of beer and smoke in his saliva, not being disgusting for you, with your fingers getting placed at both sides of his neck; caressing with the tips of them his short beard. The heat is starting to burn down your heart barriers, transforming your doubts and insecurities into ashes.

Pulling away your faces from each other, when you are running out of air, Bishop urges you to sit on the edge of the pool table as he makes his way to between your legs. And there’s a detail that catches your whole attention. He’s not hard. You’re sure that if he does the same moves with one of Vicki’s girl, or any man with any woman he just wants to fuck with, he would be already hard. Quite the opposite, El Presidente is only focused on showing you that you’re more than a night-stand for him.

“Will you give me an opportunity?”

“Just one”. You highlight, bringing your eyes to the darkest ones.

“As if I needed more than one, querida”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

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