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#i'm convinced of this and you cannot change my mind
gffa · 1 year
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I was wondering if you could share your thoughts and feelings on Felonys takes over the years overall? I know a lot of people see him as this grand savior of star wars without much more to it so I wanted to hear your take on how he handles the pre-established world he writes for and the dissonance with what George Lucas established/said before
Honestly, I think a lot of Felony's appeal is that he writes a very polished story and that's appealing to audiences (no shade, I'm part of that audience!) and that he has at least given some thought to what the Force means. There are a lot of takes he has that I agree with, I still quote what he says about the characters at times, but I think he has a big central problem and that's characterization drift-slash-the inability to let go. Well, two big central problems: He also can't write/finish a narrative arc to a satisfying conclusion. I have such a hard time getting into the Mandalorian storyline because it's been told in snippets for like 10+ years now and it's never really coherently come together, it still has huge gaps in it, it doesn't have a strong narrative central theme that he sticks to, but instead told through cameos and mini-arcs in separate shows. And when you examine a lot of his work, it often doesn't hold up to scrutiny because I'm not sure he has a solid thematic throughline that's driving him--like, some of the choices he made in season 7 of TCW are baffling--Ahsoka walks right by people who need her help, then says, "In my life, when someone needs help, I help them."??? When she wants the Jedi to help Mandalore instead of Coruscant, she says the Jedi aren't helping the people who really need them, despite that Coruscant is under attack and that's where Trace and Rafa are, the characters we just spent an entire arc on?? Ahsoka and Bo-Katan want the Republic to literally invade Mandalore, this is brought up in the arc itself, and then never mentioned again because it's inconvenient and the author doesn't want to deal with the established worldbuilding?? I also don't think he knows how to end a story, like I love Ahsoka as a character, but he very much does favor her and a lot of her appearances are starting to feel like she's only there because Filoni can't resist. She just never ends, there's no conclusion to her, what's even her character arc over the course of her life after the Jedi genocide? She's obviously dealing with trauma about it and now she's looking for Ezra to find him again, but what's the character arc on a personal level? Is she still dealing with letting go of Anakin, ~30 years after it happened? Did she not put that to rest in Rebels finally? @david-talks-sw has a great post about the differences between George Lucas and Dave Filoni here, illustrating that I do think Dave misses some really key points about characters that he has personal biases against. And, you know, I'm not getting after him for that, I disagree with him and I think he's wrong about a lot of stuff that Lucas directly established, but I also think a lot of people dismiss criticism of him because, oh, he worked with George and therefore he's an extension of George! No, he's a different writer with his own strengths and weaknesses, one I think who makes very popular (often for a reason) Star Wars, but I think misses the heart a lot of times. But I also often think of that he doesn't try to see himself as the grand lord of Star Wars, either, even he himself says:
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He's not the ultimate authority on Star Wars, he's just as fallible as anyone else is, and always should be. I think he made Star Wars shows that a lot of people loved, he has a very polished style, and he has given thought to the characters he loves. He just also has biases and directly conflicts with George Lucas' established story and I think that's fair to point out. Maybe you like those better, I'm not trying to talk anyone out of that, but it's still fair game for me to point out that I think he's wrong about Star Wars just as often as he's right. (And that, as time goes on and The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett became more and more of a hot mess, I grew less charitable. This is a major overview, I don't want to get too into the weeds on this, I've gone over a lot it in past meta, and it would be exhausting to dig it all up again, but basically this is why I'm on the fence about Felony. He has a lot of weaknesses as a writer and I don't find I like his strengths more than I dislike his weaknesses sometimes.)
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feydfuckernation · 7 months
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realistically i know it will probably never happen because he'll probably be too old by the time they maybe get around to maybe adapting the heroes of olympus into a series assuming we're lucky enough to even get that far but iñaki godoy was literally born to play leo valdez
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zannolin · 8 months
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you ever get an idea that is sooooo. arghhhhh bites into a roof tile and cries.
#zanna talks#i cant like word it good yet#but i think if mia ever got to talk to ethan after he died like either bc he came back or a SOR situation or whatever#that she should be allowed to be a little angry at him for just giving up. not facing the aftermath.#like you went somewhere you knew i couldnt follow. you left because you knew i was still here to take care of rose.#but you left us alone. you left ME alone.#YOU KNOW like not bc he's a terrible horrible person for doing that but bc shes human and it hurt. what he did hurt.#and anger is a stage of grief for a reason you know#i am 110% convinced he was only able to do that because she wasn't there for him to look her full in the face and say i'm leaving#you cannot change my mind on this#not bc hes scared of her or whatever the fuck ppl seem to think. but bc he loves her. and how can you do that to someone when you can see#the hurt and the realization and the grief dawn in their eyes you know#anyway. sorry ive been thinking about this so hard i had to stop reading rwrb#putting this all in the tags btw bc iiiii am scared of mia winters antis here on tumblr okay dont come for me ppl let me chill#let me have my little ideas. let me be.#like mia would understand in a way why he did it bc she did the same thing except it was different then#they could have saved him. or at least they could have tried. and he just gave up#meanwhile mias been living with the consequences and the guilt of what she did every day for years now#YKNOW.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 months
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something abt The Family Unit as this bordered site potentially of a little system of authoritarianism being that it's really this example plenty of people have of how like, You Would Think "oh if the people In Charge realize the structural integrity of what they're in charge of & say they're Supporting is being degraded then surely on a practical basis they'd change course? compromise?" & like the compromises Are continually made to shore things up a little longer but it's a pyramid scheme & it's continuously crumbling. & the Logic of the authority is what's held on to no matter what, not whatever else is claimed to be the goal (e.g. having a Good Family, workplace, corporation, country...) & that means having all the power, which is never actually the case or possible so since that goal's never met it's really just about having More power (what's next, constant profit growth), & everything's oriented around That, such that yeah strategic fleeting compromises may be made but as this structure inevitably deteriorates further, i.e. the control as successfully applied power is being lost, it's not about compromising more & more until eventually things are egalitarian, it's more about lashing out & doubling & tripling & quadrupling down on the exact same measures always taken anyways, because of how the entire like belief is in being the authority, expressed by forever only following the logics of authority/hierarchy & control/abuse
that is to lead into how like, the Failure of [ostensible alternate practical goal: the cohesion of the perfect family(tm)] can happen in more obvious ways / on shorter timeframes than, say, the agenda of propping up an empire, & so there's like all this evidence of how even when the theoretically inviolate borders of The Family are ruptured there's like "wouldn't the relevant family members change their approach in the face of this undeniable failure. wouldn't they question themselves." b/c like, surely? how could you not? but the experience being overwhelmingly "absolutely they do not" with instead the doubling down, perhaps the strategic compromises that are then only used to wear away the targeted parties & then (perhaps after an incremental transition) be back at it once that defense is seemingly breached, but the same logic seems to "work" even in situations where whatever Unit is destroyed, partnership, family, friendship, acquaintanceship, b/c the sense of [i am entitled to More] is just like. undisturbed or "supported" by the ruptures & lack of access to whomever, the Denial of what they feel they're already entitled to. the dehumanization of others / No Need to ever have to consider & contend with those ppl's real feelings if you control their life enough anyways is all still at play & there's no room for even Now considering if you were wrong about how someone felt, so the logic might also default to things like "it's a total mystery but what matters is i was / am wronged" &/or "well things would've been great if i had my total authority like i should have & imagine i could have, so basically some Other enemy authority must be at fault (e.g. guess my child was converted by the gay agenda, the devil, the evil outside world, communist spies, anarchists, [the pc police the virtue signalers the woke dei agents the "almost forgot abt 'critical race theorists'"]" that it just so happens that agendas of Autonomy & Equality are ones that seem to inherently insidiously threaten & undermine their own. like yeah you're not wrong about that but in also true [every accusation a projection] form of course the belief must be that They are fostering bliss & freedom & the jealous evil agents of The Other are always trying to stop them :(
like "don't they realize this is counterproductive to the wellbeing of [what they're in charge of]" like compromises may be temporarily made along the way but not Really, no, & when push comes to shove it'll be about the priorizing of asserting & holding on to Controlling Lives vs anything that'd serve anything else. & that again, with families like you might see the decided Failure of that, e.g. very limited or completely absent relationship with an adult child, and you see that like. the Authority guardian/s who are the reason with it don't change their approach. any adjustments are strategic & meant to Ultimately restore the status quo; the people who managed to extricate themselves have to rely on their own ability to actually manifest their own choices to, say, be able to remove themself from the presence of this person if they want. and that like even with that lifelong experience of dealing with that Authority & the system under them it can be so difficult to believe like do they really not even question themself on all this despite the actual external consequences manifested? b/c the Logics are so different. the child made effectively Responsible for the actions of an adult or two / the supposed Wellbeing of the family is so much more used to having to consider others' Feelings & what might make them act xyz way, b/c of that impossible but evident tasking with being harmed if there's any Problems there, versus that the person "in charge of" the wellbeing of the family & individuals therein (& certainly the young children) being concerned with their own entitlement & whether everything seems to reinforce their authority, flexing it if not, disinterest in so much else, resentment for the physical needs of children as a begrudged investment in then lifelong entitlement to kids as property to give deference / whatever support you want. & when these "supported" children are never "grateful" enough, i.e. not noticeably thwarting efforts to access whatever a parent feels entitled to (with, exactly in line with all of this, pretty invariably Issues With (denial of) Any Boundaries, e.g. not allowed to close that bedroom door this is my house, not allowed to not want to be touched i made that body, not allowed to be unsupervised what are you hiding, not allowed to say no, not allowed to have feelings/moods/preferences/opinions not in harmony with mine...) like it's supposedly only an extreme, all the more sympathetic (to the authority parent) escalation of this Ingratitude to, if possible, escape the realm of said authority. can't believe they'd do this to me
just that tl;dr of like "but at this point [authority] is sabotaging themselves i.e. the longevity of any system where they even have that position of authority? surely they realize that & change their approach b/c they Have To?" & beyond "no, not necessarily" like it's so almost Necessarily that "they definitely will not & will just try to 'invest' in their perpetual authority (which is always trying to be Increased b/c it's also never total or unbroken) by upping the violence & lashing out & ignoring w/e they have to ignore b/c they do Not have any actual alternate way to address it" like no the parents lose the entire relationship with children & don't have Realizations abt it, don't question themselves, don't make a real change, don't stop feeling as, & increasingly, entitled
#you'd think they would. but they do not think that they would. it's a completely different Logical Framework#the impenetrability of ''i'm Superior to anyone; objects/props/property/tools in My life for My agenda''#if there's negative consequences of this treatment & it's constantly shattering b/c That Is Not Reality? it's just them being Wronged#you can just believe that forever. if you're trying to reject even the Vulnerability of [gotta consider other ppl Have thoughts; feelings]#then taking on the Vulnerability of; for one thing; That; & an entire upheaval of the rest of what you've built your whole Self around.....#it does not really happen. presumably some outliers / sure it can be Possible but even then it's like#is the priority ''converting'' ppl doing this. Convincing them to stop. or in how those affected can throw them off & have more support#yes we all think that would be lovely. but it's a whole Ideology. & [what do i care if xyz Believes im nonhuman if they cannot in practice#act on that belief & make it my problem] the external situations & manifestations of power Can be dealt with by others. ppl's internal#self is their own personal business Ultimately ofc. can feel entitled to Everything Forever sure but gotta get Other Ppl outta that sitch#this has also been resonating with like head in hands deep breath the like. [it's On Sight; Sound; Read Text; Anything] dehumanization as#an autistic person like ppl Do immediately assess the [this person's existing wrong] diagnosis & do not necessarily ''learn'' otherwise#the vulnerability is pounced on / the ''opportunity'' for abuse in any situation b/c it's Deserved in this case ofc / the like ''we Do#officially label you Autistic & we Do prescribe; even require; abuse about it'' aba / rejection/ostracization / pathology / Inferiority#like what else can you do but go ''maybe ppl will change their minds? maybe i can act a way to convince them to do so?'' But No#ofc all Compounding vulnerabilities only feed into all other systems of dehumanization / vulnerability / abuse / disempowerment#my experience being autistic seemed to support my experience w/family abuse...B/c It 100% Did support it#other disabilities; less resources; more poverty; appearing nonwhite & ''worse'' black; cultural ''difference'' from the norm(tm)....#further layers (often given ''priorities'' like how Race is given 1st Consideration in who's ''beneath'' whom) in dehumanization#which is an ideology people have to Reject to; you know; humanize everyone they encounter. but they don't ''have'' to so: might not!#& obviously playing into it is what's encouraged And demanded so yeah go find the ppl in Your life to scapegoat / deem inferior! to cope!#while this is so entrenched/supported By Everything As Is that it's just ppl ''being normal'' instead of consciously disdainfully violent#so it's Something having to go ok no the double standards never cease the Sympathy (i.e. again taking unilateral Responsibility for other#ppl's feelings (& by extension hopefully their resultant actions)) will never even afford you Being Liked much less the Basic Respect#whether someone happens to personally find you Likable or not in the first place. have to ofc Hope others have other principles about it#which; you know; the logic of Ableism is in all the systems of dehumanization & exploitation. it's Just Biology / Reality....#everyone's so Great abt things now. def don't have ppl like ''haha the lack of social skills am i right autists'' / ''annoyingly nd ppl''#just saying the same shit in an XD arm slung around your shoulder tone now. dont want me saying Idiot this is why i love ableism#(it was bc everyone is already taught to love ableism & leverage it however they can) i wasn't a violent bigot: then the leftists pwned me#anyways consulting Exp. w/Authoritarian Family sure can be a touchstone recognizing resonances anywhere else. dynamics/interactions. govts
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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pornstar au
f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley
3.7k words (sorry)
tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.
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You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.
"Professor."
He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.
"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.
The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.
"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.
Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"
He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.
"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.
"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."
Fucking hell.
Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."
Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.
"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.
"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."
It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."
The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.
"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"
Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."
He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."
Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.
His good girl.
A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.
Action.
"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.
"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"
His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."
Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.
"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.
Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.
"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."
That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.
"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."
"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.
"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.
Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.
Bloody fucking hell.
His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.
Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."
Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.
"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.
His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.
Delicious.
Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.
Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.
He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.
"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.
"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."
He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."
That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.
Barely.
The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.
"Fuck, look at me."
Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.
"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.
"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.
Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.
"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"
His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."
Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.
It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.
You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.
"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.
He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.
In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.
"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.
His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.
Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.
You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.
He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.
"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.
He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."
Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."
Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."
He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."
Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.
Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.
"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.
His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"
Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.
You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.
Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."
Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.
"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.
Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.
This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.
You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.
He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."
Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."
He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.
"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."
How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?
"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."
You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.
Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."
He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."
Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.
His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—
All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—
"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."
He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.
Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.
Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.
"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."
You didn't.
"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.
Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.
All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.
"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.
That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.
Cut.
Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.
His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.
To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.
Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.
Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.
He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.
"Perfection."
--
A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.
Ghost truly is the king.
Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.
Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.
Another. one.
Fuck. Fuck!!
You cannot wait.
@mishaglass
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nuhuhwinniethepooh · 1 month
Text
Valentine's Day
Tags : smut with slight plot, f!reader, non-con?, freaky satoru, reader is in a relationship with a non-sorcerer, basically has cheating implied but it's not cheating (I'm gonna defend reader with my life on this), unprotected sex (I cannot stress this enough but do not attempt, use protection), characters are in their mid 20's, lil' angst (if you squint), Non-con (nvm it's con, I change my mind), stomach bulge (it's subtle), plot twist in the end.
Minors please. You know the drill, out 🚪🚶🏻‍♀️👈🏼
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Gojo regrets his offer on lending an ear to you, tired of listening to every whine and complaints you make against your non-sorcerer boyfriend that you've been dating for 5 months; he really should've joined Suguru on his mission to eradicate all non-sorcerers, at least he'd have you all to himself then.
But what he regrets most is the fact that he didn't ask you out earlier than your current boyfriend, missing the chance to be called yours, instead that rat-faced guy- that can't treat you right- now has the label of being yours. But now you're telling Gojo that you suspect your boyfriend's cheating on you? He couldn't be more delighted listening to that. Maybe he doesn't really regret on his offer afterall.
"And guess what Satoru! I called him last night and I swear on my life that I heard a woman's voice on the line calling him back to bed before he cut the call on me!" You throw your arms up frustratedly, inches away from smacking Satoru's face as you plop down on the couch with a dejected sigh and a small frown, missing the glint in his eyes; you'd have missed the sight either way since he wears a blindfold.
"Why are you even with him then?"
Another heavy sigh from you makes Satoru sigh too, why couldn't you just break up with your current boyfriend and get with him instead? Satoru is way better in everything and did he mention that he's way better in everything? Yes, he did. What else do you want from him at this point? "You don't understand, I love him," you mumble, fiddling with your hands as you stare at the ceiling longingly. Unbeknownst to you Satoru did understand afterall he holds the same feelings you do; seething with jealousy again, he silently curses the very three words that poured out of your mouth that wasn't aimed towards him. He hates your boyfriend with a burning passion now, well more than he usually did.
"I love him," you whisper softly, leaving Satoru unsure on if you're convincing yourself of your love or announcing your love to the world; he'd prefer the former choice if it came down to it.
February 14th, 6 : 45 PM
Satoru rushes towards the bus stop as he looks down at his phone and your stagnant location, unmoving and unchanging for the past 2 hours, fearing for the worst of situation. Looking around hurriedly after arriving, his heart leaps with relief when he catches sight of your figure but it falls just as quickly as he notices your condition.
Your beautiful locks was now unkempt because of the wind, your skin peeking out of the sleeveless dress almost looked translucent with the chill settling in but what broke his heart was your expression, the look of a shattered heart set so deep in your eyes that you no longer looked like you anymore.
"You're gonna get sick at this rate," he sighs, throwing his coat over your shoulders. You look up at him with listless eyes, redness decorating every inch of it as you wipe your sore eyes again. "He cheated on me," you say quietly, shivering slightly as you finally come to your senses, pulling the coat a little tighter over you.
Helping you up on your feet, he pulls you close with an arm and gently rubs your back," Let's get you home," he mumbles softly- you slump under his hold, mindlessly moving your feet as he takes you back home.
7 : 23 PM
"Tell me everything from the start," he folds his arm across his chest with his blindfold off, satisfied as he watches you all bundled up on the couch. You take in a deep breathe, lips wobbling slightly as you pathetically hold back tears again; Satoru really needs to get rid of your boyfriend quickly.
"Well, I wanted to surprise him for valentines day so I stopped by his house," you take in a deep breathe, voice thick with emotions as your trembling hands pick on the blanket over you. "An- and when I entere-," you sputter, fresh new wave of tears pouring out of you as the memory floods in. Immediately rushing to your side on the couch, he pulls you in and shushes at you- baffled at how vulnerable you were at the moment, he watched you exorcise curses multiple times your size and strength without seeing you flinch even once but the fact that one non-sorcerer has you shaking in tears baffles him, thoroughly so.
You clench onto his shirt, looking up at his cerulean eyes with your own wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks." Satoru, help me," you whimper out pleadingly. "What?" Satoru breathes out, looking down at you from the squashing hold he has you under, "Help me forget," you sob and he mentally kicks himself for finding you so pretty even in this situation.
"Knock me out, use your cursed techniques. Do whatever you want just please hel-" he cuts you off, pressing his lips softly against yours- no longer able to hold his feelings back when you're practically begging him, all his morals practically thrown out of the window. Your breathe hitches in surprise when you feel his hand snaking up your head, tangling it in your hair and feels his tongue swiping against your lips for entrance; you pull away and he reluctantly allows you to do so, lips slightly parted as he looks at you guiltily.
"I'm sor-" this time you cut him off, pulling him in and crushing your lips against his- you needed to forget and he kissed you first...so that's a good sign isn't it? The feeling of heartbreak and want to forget completely over-powering the guilt of using Satoru for your own benefit; Satoru couldn't be happier though, the initial shock of being kissed was wearing off and being replaced by a primal urge, he could finally show you that he was so much better than your boyfriend. In more ways than one.
Hungrily kissing your soft lips, he paws at the blanket and pulls it off of you, eager to touch your skin- delighted when you allow him to do so, your own hands tangling in his hair. "Bedroom," you gasp hurriedly, pointing towards the direction and he immediately complies. Stumbling towards the bedroom, neither breaking the heated kiss as pieces of clothing gets discarded on the floor and fingers tug at everything and anything.
Reaching the room without breaking the kiss, Satoru tugs at your bra with a firm pull and rips it apart, earning him a small protest out of you," I'll replace that later," he mumbles in your lips, hands cupping your ass. Sloppily kissing your jaw and making his way down to your exposed chest; licking, sucking and rolling every inch of your skin possible, marking your body red and purple- he shuts the door behind him with his feet, reveling in the small sounds of pleasure gushing out of your mouth.
"Satoru, can't stand," you whine out when your legs gives out under you, arms wrapped weakly around his neck as he lifts you up and gently lays you down on the bed, shifting himself right in-between your legs and prying it open with little effort from his side when you try to shut it close. Hooking a finger at the edge of your lacy underwear, he pulls it down torturously slowly- mouth drying up at the sight of your cunt, wet and clenching onto nothing. "So pretty," he coos, holding your thighs apart with his hands, he leans down and inhales your scent, ignoring the way you squirmed underneath him. Gently parting your folds with his fingers and watching your slick coat your walls, he swallows thickly as he licks his lips.
"Wai-" you cry out, hands hurriedly grabbing onto the sheets when he sucks at your clit with no warning, gulping down your juice like a starved man," tastes s' good," he moans, sending vibrations through you; arching your back and grinding your hips against his face, your eyes roll back from the stimulation. Popping a long slender finger inside, he explores every inch; a wide grin stretching on his face when he grazes a spot and your hip bucks up, sucking his finger whole with a loud moan.
"That feel good?" He asks, lazily adding in another and abusing your weak spot. You nod your head, hands clasping over your mouth to hold back your moans as tears collect in your eyes again, spilling over the edges and onto the sheets. "You look so much prettier crying under me instead of over him," he mumbles, resting his head on your thigh as he looks up at you with flushed cheeks, working his fingers inside you.
Fondling his clothed bulge with his other hands, his gaze zeroes on you, burning every detail into memory afterall you might never wanna see him again after this so he'd rather take the chance to memorize all your cute reactions and small mewls, clenching around his finger and oozing cream over it as you jerk from your orgasm, your vision goes black and Satoru moans loudly with you- imagining his cock being replaced with his fingers does wonders for him.
"I'm putting it in," he sits up hurriedly, positioning himself between your legs while pulling his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. You gulp at the sight of it, pre-cum leaking out heavily from the tip and his happy trail making it just the more appetizing but there was just one big problem- he was big, too big in both girth and length. He was so much bigger than your boyfriend and your boyfriend's dick felt right despite not wanting to admit it, the size did feel right. But Satoru's? His was gonna rip you, it's not gonna fit and you're not exaggerating just for the sake of it. It was pretty, sure but it's not gonna fit.
"That's not gon-" he cuts you off yet again, shoving his slick covered fingers in your mouth as he tuts at you disapprovingly. Gathering the slick from your folds with his other hand, he slathers it against his raging cock reverently- pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he licks it clean as he watches you gulp from the sight of it, a small smirk on his face; pushing your folds apart, he angles his fat tip against your hole and pushes in slowly.
"Satoru, wait," you whine out, hands pushing against his muscled alabaster chest, squirming under him and trying to scoot backwards but alas, his grip on your hips prevents you from doing so," you should stop moving so much," he grunts, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes to hold himself back from slamming his cock in you.
"I change my mind, stop. Please," you plead, nails digging in his chest and he sighs, frustratedly pushing his hair back and quickly pulling away from you. Watching him leave out the door, "probably to pick up his clothes," you think, relieved for having your cunt spared despite the ache between your legs. Your relief is quickly cut short when see Satoru enter the bedroom still naked, still hard but with a blindfold in hand now, leaving you swallowing thickly.
"What's that for?" You squeak nervously, sitting up and looking at him standing above you with a wide grin, flashing his pearly whites at you which just unsettles you more. "You'll find out," he murmurs, leaning down and grabbing your ankle, pulling you towards him when you start inching backwards. Your sputtered out protests falls on deaf ears and you're left shocked when he pulls the blindfold over your eyes, hindering your sight as you start panicking, hurriedly trying to pull it off your eyes but stopped when a hand grabs hold of your wrists and pins it above your head with a bruising grip, pushing you flat on the bed.
More protests pours out of your mouth but is quickly silenced when soft lips crushes against yours, the lack of sight only making you more sensitive when you feel a hand press down on your belly, lighting your skin aflame and groaning when the hold on your wrists tightens ever so slightly. Heat pools in your stomach and you buck your hips up, helplessly grinding your throbbing cunt against chiseled abs for friction. Loud whimpers of protest from you gets muted down by Satoru's lips against yours when he pushes his cock between your walls, unrelenting even when you're tugging at your wrists and squirming under him.
Inch by inch, he pushes into your velvety walls steadily with no sign of stopping, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your cunt squeeze and pull him in so needily. "You're s' needy," he moans in your lips, finally bottoming out in you with a grunt, pulling a long needy whine out of you. The delicious stretch of his cock minimizing the pain of being stretched so far, your eyes cross underneath the blindfold and your mouth lolls open, giving Satoru free reign as he sucks and lolls his tongue with yours. Pulling away with a loud smack, a string of saliva attaching itself between both your swollen lips, he looks down at your breatheless, twitching body with a satisfied hum.
"You're really so selfish, y'know?" He grunts, grinding his hips against yours, not yet letting go of his hold on your hand. "All you do is whine and complain about your boyfriend to me without ever caring about how I feel," he stutters, pulling out and ramming back into you with a loud squelch, you squeal and arch your back as he looks down fascinatedly at your cunt taking him in.
"And do you know what makes it worse? The fact that you always say you love him in my face," an incoherent babbles of what he thinks is 'I'm sorry' pours out of you, uncaring of your condition he continues ramming himself in with every word. "When you clearly know that I love you, it's like you consciously try to make me jealous," he snaps his cock brutally against your sweet spot, his hand finally lets go of your pinned hands and grabs hold of your hips to pull you down and meet his. His other hand abusing your swollen clit, leaving you with broken whimpers and stuttering breathes.
Leaning down and resting his face on the crook of your neck, his whispered "I love you's" falling upon unheard ears. Kitten scratching his back and your hips moving against his, his hand glides down to the protusion on your belly everytime he's inside and presses down on it- light flashes in your eyes through the blindfold and you squeal out, cunt squirting it's juices against his stuttering pace. Still fucking you through your orgasm until he cums in you, your silky cunt milking him for all it's worth.
He falls down ontop of you and refuses to pull out, trying to plug his cum inside you- lucky him if he got you pregnant. Pulling the blindfold off from your eyes, he looks at your starstruck eyes with a tired grin. "That help you forget?" He mumbles, kissing your collarbone as you weakly nod your head. You whimper tiredly when you feel his softened cock get hard inside your sensitive hole," Let's just make sure it stays that way, yea?"
_________________________________________________
Bonus :
Satoru is woken up by the sound of a ringing phone, groggily looking around when he notices your naked form snuggled against his which pulls a small smile out him. However the insistent ringing is starting to annoy him, what if it woke you up and made you pull away from him? He'll get to that when you wake up naturally, he has plenty of time till then.
Sighing and gently prying you off of him, his silent footsteps pads off towards the hallway filled with strewn clothes. Reaching down to your upturned phone, he annoyedly picks it up and looks at the caller, "Love♡" being the ID, he rolls his eyes at it. Why was your boyfriend even calling you at 4 in the morning? "That's a nice way of calling yourself insensitive." He mumbles to himself, picking the call up and bringing the phone to his ear.
"Hey, its not what you think it is. I swea-" your boyfriend starts, " Thanks for messing up. I appreciate it," Satoru cuts him off, quickly cutting the call and switching it off, silence ensuing in the dark hallway again. Throwing your phone back into the pile of clothes, he makes his way towards the bedroom again when another phone starts to ring. He lets out a frustrated grunt, he shut the phone down so why is it ringing? Looking down he realizes it's his and sighs when he looks at the caller ID, "Plan C". Begrudgingly picking the call, he mumbles an annoyed hello.
"I did what you told me too, that'll be a million," a feminine voice rings from the other line," I'll send it right now," Satoru answers, quickly sending the cash through online payment. "Great doing business with you," the voice replies cheerily before cutting the call. Satoru shuts his phone too, languidly throwing it in the pile again as he walks towards the room. He got rid of your feelings for your boyfriend now all he needs to do is get rid of your boyfriend before you realize that everything was a set-up.
You're smart afterall, talking to your boyfriend might just give Satoru's plan away but until then, all Satoru wants to do is snuggle with you for the moment. He'll save the rest later.
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I know I'm 4 days late for valentines but I had to post this 😭 luckily, my cast is off now >♡< (can't say the same about my laptop though 🥲)
Updates will be slower than usual until I replace my laptop.
Masterlist
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kaciidubs · 5 months
Note
for the LOVE of me… i cannot stop thinking about polyOT8! skz x fem reader where they have a bulge kink 🤭 Lee know and Reader were caught on the sofa whilst the others were finishing up at jyp and then it hit the boys.. there was a visible bulge in your abdomen where minho was BURRIED inside of you (you were basically fucking like rabbits and the boys kinda joined in afterwards) 😽🫶🏻
Darling, OT8 x Reader is my bread and butter, I shit you not - and pair it with exhibitionism/voyeurism? You're out to kill me, I'm convinced.
-
You were never more grateful for owning so many throw blankets, or else you'd be the main reason why the couch cleaning market skyrocketed.
"M-Minho! Fuck, right there!"
Your hands twisted into the soft cotton, knuckles turning white as your body rocked against the covered cushions.
Above you hovered one of your eight boyfriends, face glistening with sweat and black hair messily swept back - his annoyance with it getting in his face was palpable the minute you two started your little fuck-fest.
His face lit up an a maniacal grin, tongue poking out to lick at the corner of his lips, "Right there? Tch, you're saying that as if I don't already know where all your spots are - such a bold little kitten." A breathless chuckle escaped from him as he hiked your right leg higher on his chest, keeping your left straddled between his own muscular thighs. "Since you think I don't know what I'm doing, maybe I shouldn't let you come again, hm?"
Your pussy clenched at the prospect, mind reeling at the thought of being left dry after so, so many highs. "No! Please, please don't, I'll-"
"You'll what?" He challenged, dark eyes sparkling with mischief, "You'll go crazy without having a cock to keep you full? You'll seek out our other partners and beg them to finish what you started?"
Your eyes rolled, body writhing as much as it could in his vice grip, keeping you pinned and open for anyone to see - for anyone to observe the way you were diminished to nothing but a hole for him to use.
"Finish what she started, huh?"
The new voice brought you back to yourself, your gaze focusing on Changbin walking into the living room with Seungmin and Jeongin in hot pursuit. Soon, the space was filled with each of your significant others, crowding around the couch where Minho was - still - driving into you as if nothing had changed.
"You got him all riled up again, huh, princess?" Chris cooed, amusement evident on his face.
"Princess?" Minho scoffed, hooking your leg into the crook of his arm and using his thumb to rub tight circles around your swollen clit, "She's been a brat - thinks what she says goes. I wonder why."
Before either one of them could comment, Hyunjin hissed out a short breath, "Fuck, look at her." To which Felix and Han followed up with a choked gasp of their own. "Holy shit."
Even through your delirium, you could see that his eyes weren't focused on your face - no, they were currently trained on where you and Minho were connected, and it didn't click until you snaked a hand down to your abdomen to feel a difference.
Fucking hell.
On each rough inward thrust, you could feel the shape of Minho's dick bulge against your abdomen and press against the lower part of your stomach.
"Noona, your hand," Jeongin whined, coaxing you into moving your hand back to it's previous position with a sobbed moan.
"Min- Min- I'm gonna-"
"Come for me," he gritted, rutting his hips against yours until your body shook, coming with a sound you could only hope was an attractive moan to say the least.
It took some time for you to come back to your senses, and when you did you were met with the guys in various stages of undress - a new wave of heavy lust dampening the atmosphere.
Blinking up at the second eldest, your eyebrows furrowed, "Min?"
Chuckling softly, he nodded knowingly at your tone, "I finished too, kitten - now, how about we let the others have a go, hm?"
[unedited]
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averagecygnet-blog · 11 days
Text
emma is the villain of tgwdlm
I need to talk about this oh my god
because it's told from the hive's perspective. paul is the protagonist because he is the one who resists them but must ultimately come to accept that they're right. emma is the one who must be beaten through force.
the difference between the hero and the villain is that the hero must change, while the villain cannot. (I'm not speaking in universals here, just generalizations of how the narrative structures work that tgwdlm uses in parody.) the hero and the villain both hold a belief that represents the thematic evil; by the end of the story, the hero must undergo apotheosis, which is to say, ultimate unity with the thematic good. once this is achieved, he can defeat the villain, who represents the thematic evil completely and is incapable of change.
to the hive, "good" is unquestioning conformity to the group's ideals, specifically, singing and dancing in sync with everybody else. "evil" is refusing to sing and dance along when, clearly, you want to.
paul is the perfect protagonist because he resists song and dance, but largely because it makes him uncomfortable. getting out of your comfort zone is necessary for change! it's a good thing to let yourself go through something uncomfortable in order to come out the other side better and stronger for it. (that much is true; however, sometimes discomfort is a legitimate sign that you should stay away from something.) paul has never really tried singing or dancing, and deep down, is afraid that if he tried it, he might like it. exactly the sort of person who can be converted and used as a shining example of the hive's righteousness.
emma must be the villain because her refusal to fall in line is a choice. she can sing, she can dance, she was in brigadoon in high school and she fuckin killed it, she is even taught a whole ass song with choreography by the hive on their first morning in hatchetfield (emma's comment about how they have to sing "all the time, apparently!" and zoey's implied presence at the theater when the meteor hit - because she was with sam, and sam was there - strongly suggests that nora and zoey were zombified all morning and she had no idea). it's stated by hidgens and suggested by nora and zoey that getting a human to sing/dance along with them is supposed to be a sort of mesmerizing tactic that the hive uses to start synchronizing a person to the hive mind, but emma refuses. she sings and she dances, just like they want, but she chooses to actively hate it the whole time, on principle. she can't be convinced; they have to swarm her, surround her on all sides. let it out is meant to win paul to their side; inevitable is just to gloat.
in the bar scene in hidgens' bunker, emma says that she must be the villain to paul's hero because she was in the musical that got him to hate musicals. on the one hand, she had it backwards; she's the villain because according to the hive, the all-encompassing narrative power, he's not supposed to hate musicals. on the other hand, she's kind of right: paul is the protagonist because he is the guy who didn't like musicals, while emma is the villain because she has the capacity to like musicals as well as experience in them, but has chosen to reject them.
who is the hero and who is the villain all depends on who is telling the story. and the hive is telling this story. don't forget that.
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readychilledwine · 6 months
Note
Hey. It's me again. I was wondering if you could write something. Where reader is taking care of her younger siblings because her father who was a single dad had died due to some illness which she has now and it is going to kill her. The ic notices last minute. Az is just pissed because she is his wife and she made up a lie to break his heart. You can decided if there is a cure they found or not. Thanku. Hope you are doing well
I'm convinced you want me to break Azriel's (and my) heart, and I almost did it this time 👀👀👀👀
Tumblr media
Losing Forever
Warnings - illness, mentions of death, heartbreak, losing a family member, angst with a happier ending than originally planned, mentions of medical procedures and blood. Ps- there's a little hint of Azris in there if you squint. 👀
A/n - I changed the ending of this two or three times, and I'm not 100% happy, but that's my inner perfectionist. I seriously considered something less happy, but I think I mentally care about Azriel having a happy ending way too much.
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
Madja stared at you in silence. "Where and how?" The healer finally said before pulling any books she could. "Y/n, where and how?"
She had confirmed your fear as you began to pick at the loose skin on your nails. "My father had written for me," you went into the story, the old healer looking at you every so often as she flipped through page after page.
The conclusion was the same. Illryian Fever. You had heard of it wiping whole camps clean. Incurable, deadly, and incredibly painful for the affected. "You cannot go home. You could pass this to Nyx, Rhys, Azriel, or Cassian if they get too close to you." You nodded. "I will keep looking, y/n, but I have to go tell the High Lord which camp it was spreading through and that you have it."
Your trip home had taken much longer than you and Azriel had believed it would. He crossed his arms over his chest as Madja sat across from Rhys. The healer's face was pale. Her hands shaking with nerves. "Not that I am unhappy to see you, old friend, but why are you here?" Rhys leaned back a brow raised.
They heard her throat clear before a pregnant pause came. "Illyrian fever struck the Snowfall Camp. At least 50 are dead, countless are infected." Azriel's heart froze, and Cassian looked at him.
Rhys swallowed thickly. "Why do you have this information before I do?" He prayed to the Mother that the answer they all knew was coming wouldn't be said. "Surely, if it was spreading, I would know by now."
Madja rose a brow at Rhysand before taking his hand in hers. "You know the answer to that question, High Lord. She's in the Halls of Healing. I will not allow her to come out here. I will not allow visitors until a shield is in place." Rhys closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "I need anything you can get me regarding similar strands of illnesses if there will be a small chance of saving her."
Azriel felt Cassian grab him as his knees gave out. He felt his brother lowering him to the floor. He couldn't hear Rhys and Madja trying to talk to him. Every sound was muffled as if he was underwater, his heart rate was skyrocketing, his eyes wide with panic. The sound of his heartbeat increasing became a pounding drum. The noise was all he could focus on until your soft voice came into his mind.
Just a week, my love. Father said Luka, and he had simple colds. I will be right back to you. He rewatched the moment now, replaying the subtle things in your body language. The distant look in your eyes, the way you kissed him harder than you had for any other previous goodbye.
You knew, he realized, you knew, and you lied.
After countless hours spent hunched over books and chasing away sleep, Rhys had found a way for them to all see you. He kept a shield between you all, clutching Nyx tightly to him as he tried to reach you and cried for his favorite aunt.
It had been a week with no news regarding a cure, and your body was clearly tired of fighting. You had stopped eating 2 days ago, spending hours now in the throes of sleepless dreams and fevered nightmares. He had brought the heir to say goodbye, knowing from Madja's predictions, the progression, and years of experience you had until morning unless a miracle came.
Feyre was in the room with you. Holding your hand as she sobbed heavily into the bed. She could not pass the disease unless she made the choice to shift, and the wall Rhys was offering was too much for her. She needed to hold your hand to feel your soft palms one last time. But, it was too much for him as well. The sight of you like this was eating away at him. "Feyre, darling, please." She nodded, with one last kiss goodbye placed on your forehead.
Cassian and Nesta came next. Lady Death was held back by her husband, his hand resting on her swollen stomach. He took in your peaceful face, the countless medications being pumped into you to keep you comfortable. Ness unleashed a heartbreaking cry after they had spent almost an hour talking to you, hoping your mind wasn't lost enough that it could hear them still. Cassian took that as the cue, gently ushering his wife out of the room and into the large area Madja had set up for the Inner Circle to wait in.
It went on like that until they had all visited you. Elain and Lucien, then Mor, then Amren. Eris had even come, warming your room and sheets more as he watched you shiver. He walked back into the room, kissing Elain's temple to greet his sister in law before placing a supportive hand on Azriel's shoulder.
It was not every day someone felt the mating bond fading. Numbness had taken over the spymaster, along with anger, as he found letters confirming you knew what you were possibly walking into. But you had done it for your father. Your brother.
You had done it because they had no one else. Your mother was long gone, and your sisters married off to other camps. He did not rank high enough to garner attention from healers, your half brother was merely a child, and it would have been seen as survival of the fittest.
You had risked your life to ensure their last moments were comfortable, and now Azriel would pay that price.
"Azriel," Madja said softly, "if you want to say goodbye, you need to now." Eris and Lucien all but dragged the male to your room when he refused to move, shutting the door behind him and waiting in the hall.
Azriel felt ill as he took you in. This wasn't you. The sickly pale skin, the hallow cheeks, the lack of laughter and light. He felt a knot forming in his throat as he mindless stepped as close to you as he could before the shock of the barrier hit him.
He couldn't even hold your hand in your last moments. He sat in the chair slowly. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice finally broke the heaviness of the room. "Why did you lie to me?" He felt tears damping his lashes before falling. "You are my mate, y/n. Why did you lie to me about this?"
He watched you, knowing he wouldn't get a response. "I'm fucking angry. I have to spent your last moments angry with you because of a choice you made. We could have sent healers, love," his voice cracked. "We could have sent anyone but you."
Azriel was openly weeping now. "You promised me forever, y/n. You promised me years of love, joy, and unconditional happiness." He knew you had not broken the latter of the 3. You had given Azriel countless memories. Countless moments of laughter, of warmth and love.
You had melted that icy part deep down in his soul that was slowly resolidifying as he accepted the loss and anger he felt. "You promised me forever, and you shit on it. You shit on me, on my feelings, our marriage, our bond." The coldness grew with each word. "Did you even actually love me, or was that a lie too?"
He knew deep down it wasn't and watched as your finger, the one with your wedding ring, twitched. Rhys entered the room calmly behind him. "She can fucking hear you, Azriel. She's awake," he chastised. "Do not let your last moments with her be moments of anger and self sabot-" Rhys froze, his eyes flicking to the doorway. Hope filled Rhysand's features. "Hold on, y/n. Just please keep fighting, sis."
Madja and Helion, followed by Thesan, ran into the room. Rhys pulled Azriel back and away, making room for the three of them to work. "Mother, fuck," Helion said softly as he took your hand. "This better work fast, Thesan."
The Lord of Dawn rolled his eyes. "I didn't exactly have countless illyrians lining up to test it, Helion. Especially not ones in this advanced of a condition." Azriel flinched as Thesan shoved something into the vein of your hand. A soft whimper of pain fell from your throat. "I know, lovely. I'm sorry. This might be very uncomfortable." He set a bag of clear glowing liquid on the rack. "Who's blood?"
"Mine," Helion immediately offered. "I don't want to risk you taking it home to your winged legion from potential blood contact."
Thesan's jaw twitched. "I don't know if you can handle another one, Hel."
"Use me." A calm cool voice said from the doorway. "I owe him a life debt. Use me." Thesan nodded, motioning for the owner of the voice to move closer.
Eris stepped forward and through the shield, taking the seat Helion had moved closer to you. The heir held your hand gently as Thesan tapped into his vein. "You might be here awhile, Eris." The heir nodded. "I also cannot promise you doing this will save her, but it's her best shot until Tarquin, Tamlin, or Kallias can get here. It works best with a high lord's blood."
Your breathing had evened out, and Azriel watched in silence as Thesan hooked one more needle to your opposite arm from Eris and into a different container. He back away along with Helion, watching as Eris's blood slowly began to travel the tubes and into you, and your own began to leave.
"There's a similar illness in the Peregryn and the Seraphim," Thesan began slowly. "Drakon and I figured this out many years ago. The contagion cannot survive high fae blood for some reason. We had figured Rhysand's father would have done the same, but it appears not considering the situation."
Rhys scoffed slightly. "You two give my father far too much credit on anything. Velaris is the best thing he created, with the exception of myself of course." The joke broke the tension. "How long until she's not contagious."
Helion motioned towards the bag. "The second that started pumping into her, she stopped. That is water from the fountain Amarantha tried to destroy under the mountain. It's sacred and all healing. We were hoping with how poorly she was doing it would prevent anything from progressing further."
Azriel felt the shield drop and ran to your open side. Taking a cold hand in his, feeling the weight of your ring. "This was successful in the camps. I apologize it took us so long to get here. Finding Illyrians willing to help us help them instead of accept death was-" Helion just shrugged, looking at Rhys. "You all are too stubborn for your own good. Eris, what do you want for food? You'll need it."
Rhys held his hand up. "I know where he likes to eat here. I will send you two food. I'm going to get everyone else out for a break, though. And to explain what's happening." He motioned for Thesan and Helion to come with him, squeezing Azriel's shoulder and shooting Eris one last look before shutting the door.
Silence fell between the two of them, both of their eyes locked on you. "If this saves her, you need to grovel and apologize immediately." Eris would not look at him. "I would have never said to my mate what you said to her on their deathbed."
Azriel nodded. "Why are you doing this?"
Eris finally looked up at him, before looking at you. "You came and saved me from that bitch of a queen and the deathless God, Azriel. She nursed me back to health and healed me after countless beating from my father. You are my friends, even if you do not acknowledge that. I care about you, Az." Eris paused, his eyes focused on the fire, starting it back up into a gentle blaze to heat the room again. "Besides, I quite enjoy your wife. She is wonderful. Even if you are a moody brute."
Azriel laughed lightly. Allowing silence to fall between the two of them again. His shadows appeared some time later with two books from thin air, taking one to Eris and dropping one in Azriel's lap. They then pushed side tables to the two males as Rhys sent them food.
Eris guffawed in awe as Azriel's shadows began to cut their steaks. "Is this your way of saying thank you, shadowsinger?" Azriel nodded. Opening his mouth while staring at Eris to allow his companions to feed him. "You're welcome, Azriel. She looks better already." And you did. Color had slightly returned to your face. Your lashes occasionally fluttered against your cheeks.
They welcomed in quiet again, finishing their meals and desserts before a soft knock came on the door almost an hour later. A shadow opened it, and Eris's face almost fell before he chuckled through his breath. "You are not the one I was expecting."
The scent of rain and fresh cut grass hit Azriel. Had this been a different circumstance, Azriel would have shielded you, protectrd you, but he knew there was only one way this male got in, and that sacrifice from Rhysand shocked him.
"My schedule clears easily these days." Tamlin placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder. "You look like shit, Azriel." The shadowsinger watched Thesan appear and began to unhook Eris.
The heir moved to the chair by Azriel, drinking the water a shadow had handed to him as the small puncture wound instantly healed. They watched as Thesan hooked Tamlin up to you. They watched as Tamlin's blood seemed to instantly make a huge difference. You had stopped shivering completely. Your body relaxed. You were even breathing deeper.
Thesan observed for a while. Watching as Rhys then sent Tamlin food, causing the two high lords to laugh. "Tarquin will be here by morning, and Kal will be here tomorrow afternoon. The Inner Circle is each going to take turns after you, with the exception of Rhysand. Feyre will sit in his place. Then Tarquin, Kal, then Helion and myself. I think it will take all of us since she was so advanced into the illness."
Tamlin nodded. "I apologize I was not here sooner."
Thesan shook his head. "Eris was more than enough to get her off the brink. Now, all you have to do is sit and stabilize her, and from there, we will heal her."
Thesan crossed his arms in front of his body, brows raised as he nodded to the plate in front of Tamlin. "I was informed not to leave until you ate a bite." Tamlin laughed as shadows copied their previous motions, cutting his steak like they had for Eris before holding a bite to his face.
Eris had fallen asleep, his head resting on Azriel's shoulder. Thesan grabbed a blanket, pulling it over the heir, and Azriel wrapped a wing around him on instinct as well.
"She's going to recover, Azriel," Thesan said. "Might want to start writing that apology letter. Rhys said her thoughts regarding you were not kind when she called for him. Something about stupid illyrian brutes and over egotistical bastards?"
Tamlin and Azriel laughed. Azriel didn't take his eyes off of you as you shakily raised a single finger to him. "So a fancy date, an apology letter, and a vacation. Noted, my love."
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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months
Text
a woman's voice, i quickly ran
In The Woods Somewhere | Chapter One
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Chapter Summary | Joel has been wandering for weeks, aimlessly listing through the forest as he scouts a new patrol path. He's gone much further than he needs, could easily turn back, which he almost does, until he stumbles across you and your coven of children, hiding out in the forest.
Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food, canon typical violence, descriptions of child death and dead bodies, mention of weapons, mention of religion, religious trauma, mention of a cult, swearing, child loss, allusions to controlling behaviour and domestic abuse, allusions to dirty thoughts but nothing explicit yet, age gap relationship in future chapters, no use of y/n.
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 6.3K
Authors Note | Well, here we fucking go right? I definitely didn't need another WIP, but I seriously couldn't leave this one alone so here we are. Like I said on the masterlist drop, this is different from what I've written before. It's challenging me in the best way and I really cannot wait to share more with you. If you enjoy this then please consider reblogging, leaving comments or popping into my ask with your thoughts - I love hearing from you guys! And also consider leaving a tip on Ko-Fi if you enjoyed as well - I'm a poor student so anything really helps, but no pressure.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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Joel’s boots sink into the ground underfoot. It rained last night. He’s thankful he managed to find an abandoned cabin along the way yesterday before the heaven’s opened. This walk would be even more miserable if his clothes had been soaked through as well. Every few steps his feet slip in the mud. He can already feel his ankles screaming at him to stop, but the sky above him is dark grey and threatening to rain once more, so he keeps walking, hoping there’s someone, somewhere looking down on him, taking pity, hoping he can find another cabin to spend the night in. 
When he hears a distant rumble of thunder, he curses Tommy, out loud. He’s nowhere near Jackson now, having been convinced to take a scouting mission for this new route they’d stumbled across once the snows of winter had melted away. He feels like he’s been punished. Shunned from his own community. Even though his brain knows that’s not the case. He hasn’t spoken to Ellie in months, his chest constricting tightly when he thinks to her. He's no-one to blame but himself for where he is, but the Lord knows whatever he did, whatever he would continue to do for that girl, he’d do it all again given his second chance. 
He can still see Tommy’s face when he came clean. The look of utter despair, the one chance they had at returning to normal, snatched away by Joel and his gun, and then the look of understanding that Joel had found his purpose again, found someone to give his love to. That’s why he’s here now, backpack laden with a singular change of clothes and his rations, rifle slung over his shoulder. Tommy thought some solitude would help. Help him come to terms with his new relationship, or lack thereof, with Ellie. Give him something to focus on. He still can’t help thinking that it was an excuse for him to be out of town for a few weeks, so that his scowling face didn’t make the children cry or the rest of the town avoid him. 
When all is said and done, he misses her. He’d already lost one daughter, and through trying not to lose the other, that’s exactly what he’s done. Pushed her away. Alienated her. What he wouldn’t give to go back and hear those shitty puns again. Of course, in the back of his mind he knew this would happen, he just didn’t think it would be so soon. The only thing he would do differently about the years they’ve lived since they came back to Jackson, it would be to savour the moments he had with her, knowing they’d be gone all too soon. 
He can feel his chest tightening. Not in the way it would when he’s exerted himself up a hill. In the way it happens when he feels things spiraling out of control. He rests a palm on the tree-trunk in front of him, other hand clutched to his heart as he closes his eyes and tries to calm him breathing. Ground himself. Count to ten. Think of things he can smell. Think of things he can hear. He’s focusing on the birdsong when he hears something else. Just as sweet as the chirping from the trees, but decidedly more human. 
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine 
You make me happy 
When skies are grey 
Along with the singing, Joel can hear the telltale sound of children. He’s grown used to it since being in Jackson, hearing children enjoy themselves without having to worry about what happens outside of the walls that keep them safe. But there are no walls out here, only forest and danger, so the sound of children laughing is unsettling him, and he’s not really sure why. He pushes himself back from the tree, taking the rifle off his shoulder to rest in his arms as he takes tentative steps through the forest, careful not to step on anything that might give him away. He comes to stop near the front of the line of trees, letting his eyes adjust to the scene in front of him. 
There’s a cabin, not unlike the one he’d spent the previous night in, situated in a small clearing. If he looks at it with his contractor eyes it’s pretty well built, solid and sturdy. But it’s not the cabin that he’s interested in, not really. His eyes are drawn to a woman, sitting on a bench that’s placed on the porch of the cabin, and more importantly, the small gaggle of children that are sitting around her. There are four of them, varying in age, two boys and two girls, who are sitting on the floor in front of the woman, who has stopped singing and is now reading aloud from a book that’s on her lap. 
The voice that she speaks with is almost as lovely as the voice she sings with, and Joel finds himself leaning against the tree, letting the soft lilt of her voice soothe him. It’s a distant memory but it reminds him almost of his mother, when she’d read to him and Tommy before bed when they were young boys. He doesn’t know the story, can’t make out enough words to follow along, but that doesn’t matter. 
He's watching intently as she closes the book on her lap and sets it down on the bench. He listens as she tells the children to go inside. She follows, guiding one of the older children with a hand on the back of his head. She’s only gone for a minute, then she’s back, this time with a shotgun clutched in her arms, much like the way he’s got his own rifle. 
“You gonna be trouble?” She calls out, facing him directly, barrel of the gun trained into the trees where he’s stood. 
He’s taken back by her observation skills. Joel had been careful to stay as still as he could, but somehow, she’d managed to spot him. He thinks to himself that it’s good, when she’s got children to care for. 
“Don’t mean no harm,” He calls back, shouldering his rifle as he does, “Just lookin’ for somewhere to spend the night.” 
He steps out of the tree line, hands raised in surrender to bring home his point. She keeps the gun trained on him though. Smart, he thinks, she doesn’t trust him. The sky above decides now, that after hours of threatening, to open, sending fat drops of rain onto the ground. 
The woman points with the barrel of her shotgun for Joel to sit on the bench, under the cover of the porch, which he gladly does, grateful for the opportunity to take the weight off his aging ankles. Once he’s sat, he takes a moment to push the curls back from his head, water dripping from the ends, he also leans down to unlace his boots, relieving the pressure on his feet. 
“How’d you find us?” She asks, still aiming the gun at him. 
“How’s about you get that gun off me, and we’ll talk?” Joel asks, raising an eyebrow. 
“What’s stopping you from attacking me once I do?” 
“Probably the fact that my gun is there,” He motions to the pillar he’d rested his rifle on, out of reach unless he stands and takes steps to get it, “And those kids in there.” 
“You got any other weapons on you?” She asks, Joel nods his head, because it’s true, he’s got a hunting knife in his backpack, “Can I search you?” 
“Knock yourself out.” He murmurs in response. 
She takes slow steps towards him, eyes not leaving his face as she kneels in front of him, fingers tracing the top of his boots for something concealed. She does the same up the leg of his jeans, trying to feel if he’s got anything hidden there, and then pats down his chest. Joel curses to himself at the way his heart jumps in his chest when her delicate hands touch him. Touch starved idiot, he thinks, he’s not had a woman touch him since Tess, and even that was more of a means to end. 
She steps back from him, moving onto his backpack. She takes out his change of clothes, unfolds them to make sure he’s not keeping anything hidden there, but then folds them back up which Joel thinks is curious. She finds the hunting knife buried just below his clothes. She takes it out and inspects it, but doesn’t pocket it for herself, just rests it on top of his folded clothes. Finally, she rustles through his rations – some bags of dried fruit and jerky mostly. He'd been trying to catch fresh meat on the way so there’s still plenty left. Once she’s satisfied Joel has nothing else to hide, she repacks his bag for him, before standing back, gun still in hand but not trained directly to his face anymore. 
“Where did you come from?” She asks, leaning against the porch fence. 
“I’m from a commune, few weeks walks from here,” He answers honestly, “We noticed a new route out when the snow melted so I’m just scouting it out, makin’ sure there ain’t nothing to cause us trouble,” He looks at the woman now, directly in the eye, “You gonna be trouble for us?” 
He’s teasing really, because what threat could one woman and four children pose to Jackson? But she doesn’t take it that way, Joel catching the way her fingers twitch on the trigger. 
“Depends,” She speaks, “You gonna be trouble for us?” 
“Doubt it,” He shrugs, “We won’t come out this far when we patrol.” 
“Then why are you out here at all?” 
Ah, yes, the million-dollar question. He really could have gone back a week ago. Once he’d walked as far as he would on his normal patrols, he could have called it and gone back, but there’s something about the solitude here that he enjoys. He also thinks he’s avoiding going back to his miserable existence now. Doesn’t want to live in a place where Ellie ignores him, where she walks past his house without acknowledging him. 
“Guess I just like the outdoors.” 
She raises her eyebrows at him but seems to accept his answer. The rain is pouring now, soaking the ground again and if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to do right now, it’s trekking through the storm to find someplace else to shelter. 
“You mind if I say?” He asks, “Just until the storm passes.” 
He watches her closely as she thinks, finally taking a moment to really take her in. She’s young, probably in her early thirties if he was to guess. She’s wearing a white dress, or it would have been white once upon a time. The long hemline is covered in dirt, ghosting along worn work boots. The dress has long sleeves, and the neckline is cut just enough to be enticing but not indecent. He wonders where the hell she’s come from. There are scars that pepper her face, one that cuts across her top lip and another that slashes through her left eyebrow. They look old and healed and he can see another mark on the skin around her throat – perhaps not a scar, more of a burn, that traces around the entirety of that delicate throat. He knows she’s been through something; it must be what’s made her so smart. She is, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing he’s seen. Like an angel, dressed in white, ethereal. He feels depraved in this moment, thinking of all the ways he might break her. 
“You stay out here,” She says firmly, “And you don’t speak to the children, understand?” 
“Understood.”
She nods, pushing herself back from the railings beneath her back, “I’ll bring some food out later.” 
Joel watches as she moves away, murmuring a quiet thank you to her as she disappears back into the cabin, shutting the door behind her. He hears a lock click a moment later and he smiles. This woman knows exactly what she’s doing. 
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You settle the children at the table a few hours later. You dish servings of the stew you’d made over the fire into bowls and give each of them a glass of water. You turn your back on them when they clasp their hands together, bowing their heads in a silent prayer like they’ve always done. Like they were conditioned to do. You don’t join in. Instead, you take two bigger bowls, filling one for yourself and then the other for the mystery man out there. His portion is bigger. If he’d been surviving on dried rations and whatever he could catch, you think he must be starving. You’re not sure why you care so much, but you think it has something to do with the way you were raised. Before the world went to shit, your parents had always given guests the biggest portion of food, this is just something you carry with you. 
When you turn around the children are eating their food. They’re slow, knowing they can savour what they eat now. They don’t have a master who takes their bowls away once he’d finished, no matter how much they had left. They’re quiet too, something they’re still yet to unlearn. Children are to be seen and not heard. You’d told them in the months after that you loved hearing them, the joy they let out when you taught them how to play properly. You’d insisted no-one was going to beat them again for speaking too loudly, but some lessons are harder than others to unlearn. 
“Who is that man?” Thomas, the oldest boy asks quietly. 
“He’s just passing through,” You smile, ruffling the hair on his head as you pass, “He’ll be gone by the morning.” 
“He won’t hurt us?” He asks, and your heart breaks a little, because what do you say? 
“I don’t know,” You answer honestly, dipping to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “I keep us safe though, don’t I?” He nods in response, “Then I’ll keep us safe tonight, now finish your dinner, I’ll be back in a little while.” 
You set your bowl down on the corner table by the door, unlocking it with one hand before picking up your bowl again. The man from earlier is still sat on the bench, exactly where you’d left him, except now he’s got a book perched on his lap, which you notice is the one you’d been reading to the children earlier. He looks up, closing the book as you offer him his own bowl. 
“It’s not much,” You speak softly, sitting in the small chair across from the bench, “It’s squirrel, the meat.” You inform him as he starts pushing his spoon through the meal. 
“Thank you,” Is all he says as he lifts the spoon to his mouth, “How long have you been livin’ here?” 
You chew your own mouthful of food, realizing quickly that the anxiety in your stomach at someone you don’t know being in your space means you don’t really want to eat anything, the meat and vegetables settling like lead when you swallow. Better to be out here and keep an eye on him though. 
“Couple’a months,” You offer, pushing the food around in your bowl, “We’ve moved around a bit.” 
“Ever get any trouble?” He asks, shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth. 
You take a small bite of your own food, chewing it more times than is necessary before you struggle to swallow it down, “Not really,” You answer, “Few people come through, but the shotgun usually means they move on, I think the children help,” You shrug, “World might have gone to shit but people don’t wanna kill kids these days.” 
You’re still trying to convince yourself to eat your food when the man in front of you sets his empty bowl on the floor. You look down into the stew, taking another bite making you feel like you might be sick, so you extend the bowl to him. 
“No, thank you,” He holds his hand up, “That’s yours.” 
“I ate earlier,” You lie, “Please, it’ll just go to waste.” 
You can see him battle with himself a little, but ultimately his stomach wins, so he takes the bowl and finishes off your portion in silence, setting his old bowl inside this one once he’s finished. The light has faded fast, it’s still pouring with rain so there’s no chance he’s going to move off tonight. You stand, bending to take the bowls from between his feet. 
“I’ll find you a blanket,” You speak quietly as you open the door, “You’ll be more comfortable that way.” 
Inside, the children have finished their food and have started to clear up. Another hangover from where you’d been before. Thomas takes the bowls from your hand and gives them to Clara, just a year younger than he is. She places them in the bucket of water in front of the fire and starts to scrub as you root around in the ottoman by the couch. There’s only one blanket in there that you think will be big enough for him and it’s threadbare, but better than nothing you think. Whoever he is, he’s old, or older than you at least, so you take two cushions from the sofa, if his back is anything like yours, he’ll need them. 
He's back to reading the book when you take them out to him. This time, he doesn’t close it, just looks up with a smile and says thank you as you place them at the end of the bench. You turn to head back inside. 
“I’ll be gone once the sun rises,” He speaks, “Thank you, you’re a very kind girl.” 
You scoff a little, thinking if only you knew what I’d done. You smile at him instead, you want to tell him it was nice to meet him, nice to meet a man who doesn’t seem to have ulterior motives, but what would be the point? He’ll be gone in the morning and you’ll be back to keeping your children safe. You say nothing. Leave him on the porch and lock the door. It’s for the best. 
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Joel doesn’t sleep. He spends his night upright on the porch, rifle over his lap, surveying the tree line in front of the cabin. Every now and then he stands, walking around, because his good ear can only pick so much out. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to stand guard, he wasn’t asked to. You’ve gotten under his skin. He’s been around you less than twelve hours, he doesn’t even know your name, doesn’t know who these children are to you, what you’ve been through, but still feels the need to keep you safe. 
The rain had stopped some time ago, just after he noticed the lights inside the cabin go out. It makes hearing things easier, now he’s not trying to make out sounds over the roar of the weather. It’s unsettling though. A few times he thinks he’s heard something amongst the trees, the snapping of twigs and such, but it could easily be an animal. He doesn’t want to risk wandering off into the woods to figure out what it is, because if it is humans, his absence means you and your children are an easy target. 
He's sat back on the porch when he hears it. The unmistakable sounds of someone cocking their gun. He’s too slow to react. The sound of the gun firing fills his ears and then the shattering of glass behind him. The bullet piercing through the window behind him. He jumps up, realizing whoever it is out there must have been aiming at him. He readies his rifle, eyes scanning the tree’s for movement. He’s stood with his back to the door, aiming his gun out, waiting for whoever is out there to give away their position when the door is yanked open, you’re stood there with your shotgun. 
“Get inside.” He hisses, trying to gently push at your shoulder. 
“I haven’t needed your help so far,” She spits back, as another bullet ricochets off the wall of the cabin, they’re definitely aiming at you both, “Where are they?” 
“I don’t know,” He whispers, trying to figure out exactly where they’re firing from, “If you’re gonna stay out here, you need to be quiet.” 
You scoff at him, as if you’d been making a ton of noise anyway, but then another bullet sounds, bouncing off the wall near your head and you let out a yelp, finally realizing you’re terrified. The man, whose name you still don’t know, grips the top of your arm and pushes you back inside the cabin, following behind you as he slams the door shut. 
You watch as he pulls the couch away from the window that had been shot through. He points his rifle out of it and pulls the trigger and you think you can hear someone cry out into the night. Good riddance you think, as you watch him reload his gun. You turn around at the sound of a creaking door, finding Thomas and Clara and the two younger children, Edward and Isabel, clearly frightened by what was happening. You drop your shotgun on the table, rushing over to kneel in front of them. They crowd into your arms, Isabel is crying so you try and soothe her as much as possible. 
“What’s happening?” Edward asks. 
“There are some bad men outside who want to hurt us,” You answer simply, you’ve tried never to sugarcoat things with them, “But it’s okay,” You try and smile, “Because we’ve got someone looking after us.” 
You turn just in time to watch your guest shoot again. It continues like this for what feels like forever, someone outside shoots towards the cabin and then he shoots back, until it’s silent. You watch as the man stays still, but there aren’t any other shots that ring out. You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. You were safe. 
“Back into there,” You tell the children, “I’ll be there in a minute.” 
They do as they’re told, heading back into their bedroom. You close the door and turn around as the man in front of you is finally lowering his gun. You both take a moment to look at each other, chests heaving and adrenaline flooding through your veins. 
“Thank you,” You speak softly, walking up to him, “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” 
“Probably not been attacked,” He grumbles, “I think it was me outside that made them think there was somethin’ worth takin’.” 
“Still,” You place a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you.” 
“You can’t stay here,” He says suddenly, “All those gunshots mean infected, I can’t keep you safe enough if they’re gonna start swarmin’.” 
“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” You panic, feeling bile rise up in your throat, it had taken you months to find safety like this, and now you had to give it up, “Where are we going to go?” 
“There’s another cabin, just a few hours walk away,” He explains, “I stayed there the night before I came here, same kinda thing, and far enough away to be safer, but we have to go now.” 
You take a moment to think. You don’t know this man. Sure, he’s just killed people to keep you safe, but maybe this is all part of some master plan, lure you away, take the children from you, force you back into a life you don’t think you’d survive second time around. The alternative though isn’t much better. You stay here and what? You’re overrun by clickers, get torn apart by infected and if they don’t get the children, what becomes of them? When you think about it like this, there is really only one option, and that is trust this man in front of you. 
“If I’m going to trust you, I need to know your name.” 
“Joel.” 
You return the favour quickly, telling him your name, before turning to go to the children. They’re sat together on one bed, comforting each other. You kneel in front of the bed, placing soothing hands wherever you could reach. 
“The bad men are gone,” You speak softly, “But it was really loud which means it isn’t safe to stay here anymore, so the man out there is going to take us somewhere safer.”
“How do we know he’s a nice man?” Thomas asks. 
“Well, he kept us safe, didn’t he?” You offer, “He didn’t have to help us like that, but he did, so I think that makes him nice, doesn’t it?” 
They nod, but you know they would do anything you asked them to do, without question. There isn’t much to pack, you didn’t have much to begin with, but you ask them to gather the small bags you’d found for them along the way and fill it with what they would need. When you head back to the main room, Joel is still posted near the window, keeping an eye out for whatever dangers might be waiting to greet you when you leave. 
You find your backpack and make sure it’s filled with everything you might need. It’s still got most of your essentials in it, perhaps you’d always thought this place wouldn’t be forever. You fit a few of the books in that the children love the most before putting it on, gathering the small knife from the table, setting it in your boot and then picking up your shotgun, just in time for the children to emerge with their own bags. 
Joel turns around, “Okay, we need to be quick,” He speaks softly, aware that the children must be frightened, “And really quiet, okay?” 
They nod, as do you, then he’s opening the door and leading the way. You don’t bother closing the door behind you. You just motion for the children to follow behind Joel. Isabel and Edward are holding hands, just like they always do, Clara and Thomas just a few steps behind them. The sun has started to rise, painting your surroundings in pale light as you start to move quietly behind them all. Then, it all goes wrong. You’re not entirely sure what happens past hearing another gunshot and one of the children screeching. 
Joel whips around and trains his gun from where the sound had come from, firing a shot right into the man who was heading right towards you. You scream and step back before you look to your children. Edward is stood with his hand clutched to his side, blood seeping through his shirt and his hand. You barely have time to catch him before he falls. His tiny body is shaking in your arms, as you try and move his hand away from the wound. He cries out in pain when you try and move him. 
“I know baby, I know,” You try and soothe, your own tears clouding your vision as you manage to move his hands away, “You gotta let me see, okay?” 
When his hands do move, you can already tell there’s nothing you can do. Blood is pooling on the ground, seeping through the white material of your dress as you try and put pressure on it, which causes more pained cries to leave his mouth. You must get him up, you have to move him somewhere you can look at him better.
“We gotta get you up, okay?” You ask him, quickly brushing your tears away from your face as you try and hoist him up, but it’s no use, the screams of pain are more than you can bare.
You let him drop back to the ground, still trying to stem the bleeding when you notice that he’s stopped shaking and his crying has stopped. No. No no no no no. 
“Edward?” You ask, shaking his shoulder, “Edward!” This time it’s louder, mor hysterical as your sobs rack your body. He can’t be dead. Not after everything you’d done, “Please, baby, come back to me,” You beg, “I can keep you safe, please just come back.” You cry into his bloodied body, knowing it’s no use, he’s gone. 
You let out another sob as you clutch his small body to yours, rocking him back and forth like you used to when you were trying to get him to sleep, tears falling down your face and onto the ground. Then, a strong palm slips onto your shoulder which makes you jump, “We have to go.” Is all Joel says, trying to get you to stand with an arm on your elbow. 
“I c-can’t leave h-him here.” You choke out through sobs. 
“Give him to me,” Joel insists, taking Edward’s lifeless body from your arms, helping you to stand, “I’ll carry him.” 
You don’t know why but you start to wipe at the blood on your dress, it’s seeped into the material so there’s no way you’ll ever get it out, but it’s something to focus on that isn’t Edward being dead. For the first time in years, you don’t look at the other children as you start to follow behind Joel once more. You know their faces would break you, would cause you to fall to your knees and not get up again. The three of them walk side-by-side in front of you again. Silent, but you can tell they’re crying from the way their shoulders are shaking. Isabel is in the middle of Thomas and Clara, each of them clutching one of her hands as they struggle to keep up with Joel’s pace as he walks through the dense forest.
You think you walk for hours, quietly crying as you do. You stop once, Joel walking off away from you whilst you sit with the children that are left, letting them sip from the canteen of water whilst you all catch your breath. You know he does it so none of you have to lay your eyes on Edward’s dead body. You make yourself as small as possible, knees to your chest, to try and hide the worst of the bloody stains on your dress. All too soon, Joel is whistling to you, telling you that it’s not much further. 
By the time you reach the cabin, the sun is already starting to set. Joel motions his hand for you to go inside ahead of him which you do, guiding Thomas, Clara and Isabel in before you go. Joel stays outside as you get them settled on the dusty couch inside. 
“What happened to Edward?” Isabel asks, her eyes wide as you crouch in front of them.
You take hold of her small hands, “I’m sorry baby,” You sigh, “Edward is gone.” You can feel the lump in your throat, you try to bite your emotion back for their sake.
“Where has he gone?” She asks. 
You open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. Trying not to rip up wounds from the past that you’d only just managed to close with them. 
“Well baby, he’s gone somewhere else,” You sigh, “You remember before, when we lost people, and we were always told they went to heaven?” The three children nod at you, “I know we don’t believe that, but he’s somewhere better now.” 
“And he won’t come back?” 
“No baby,” You coo, running your hand over her hair, “But we’ll see him again someday, I promise.” 
You press a kiss to each other their foreheads, opening your backpack to pull out one of their books. You hand it to Thomas so he can read to the other girls before you head outside. You can see Joel near the line of trees, he’s digging with a shovel and your chest constricts at the sight. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. Edward deserved to grow old. You’re angry. You want to scream. You want to strike your fists into something until all you feel is the physical pain, because that’s easier, it’s an easier pain to the one you feel right now. 
Joel turns as you stand still at the door, he tilts his head, ushering you over to him. Your body follows the direction, like you always had before. A man tells you to do something, you do it. 
“I didn’t know if you wanted to bury him,” He speaks softly, “But if you do, it’s ready.”
You can feel your bottom lip tremble so you bite down on it, hoping the pain stops you from crying, but it’s useless, you still can’t comprehend that he’s gone, despite the fact his body is wrapped in a filthy sheet next to the grave Joel has dug. He deserves so much better than this. You can’t help but take it as a personal failure. You’d vowed to keep them safe, and you’d failed. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” He murmurs, letting a hand rest lightly on your shoulder which you shudder away from, “I’ll give you some time, just place him down and I’ll do the rest when you’re ready.” 
He walks away, but not into the house, you notice. Maybe he still thinks the children are frightened of him. He walks around the side of the cabin as your focus moves back to the shroud in front of you. You drop to your knees, delicate hands rolling the top of the shroud down to reveal his face. His eyes are closed, and you can almost convince yourself that however he died it was peaceful. His skin is pale and mottled, lips blue. A tear drips from your face and onto his, clearing a trail down his cheek as it moves through the dirt. You lean forward, kissing his forehead, running a hand through his hair like you did each night to soothe him. 
“I’m sorry baby,” You whisper, “I’m so sorry.” 
You stay like this for a moment, forehead pressed to his. You can’t bare it anymore, pulling back and covering his face, but there’s something stopping you from lowering him into the ground. Then it’s final. You won’t be able to see his face again, listen to his voice when he talks or smile when he laughs. You turn, finding Joel hanging back. 
“I can’t do it,” You mutter, “Will you?” 
He nods, walking over to you. He doesn’t try and touch you this time, just bends and picks Edward up before placing him lightly into the grave. He stands, putting his hand to the shovel, you decide you can’t watch anymore, turning your back on the scene behind you to go back to the family you still have. 
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Darkness has enveloped the outdoors. The children have been in bed for a while, after Joel handed out the remainder of his measly rations to everyone. You wish you could convince yourself to sleep, but moving from the couch seems like too much work right now. You’re numb. Joel is sat at the other end of the couch, letting the small fire he set warm him through. The silence is deafening. 
“You wanna talk about it?” His gruff voice asks. 
You’re biting at the end of your nail, crying again. Your body is aching, dress covered in dry blood. You wish you could wake up from whatever horrible nightmare this is. You finally shake your head, biting at your lip as you do. 
“I don’t think I can.” 
There’s another beat of silence before Joel speaks again, “I know you don’t wanna think about it right now,” He sighs, “But Jackson, where I live, it’s safe.” 
“Is anywhere really safe these days?” You scoff. 
He nods his head, “Y’know, that’s what I thought when I got there, but it works,” He shrugs, “My brother, he sorta helps run it, big walls, everyone chips in where they can, take turns patrollin’, I’ve been there two years now and nothin’ bad’s ever happened.” 
“So, you’re communists then?” 
Joel can’t help but laugh, thinking about the existential crisis Tommy had when Ellie had suggested the same thing, “Somethin’ like that, yeah.” 
You sigh, because it’s starting to sound like a good idea. A place where you’d be shut in, protected by people. Where the children could actually be children. You’re still not convinced you trust him though. Sure, he’d protected you. Helped you to safety. Carried Edward’s dead body all the way here, but you’re still convinced it’s some kind of sick joke at your expense. You could be walking headfirst into a trap. 
“It’s okay,” He murmurs, “I don’t expect you to trust me, it’s going to take time, but just follow me, even for a while, we’ll go slowly back that way, anytime you wanna leave, you can.” 
“I can’t think about this right now,” You snap, “Can we just have some time?” 
He gives you a small smile, “Of course, all the time you need, I ain’t in a rush to get back.” 
Exhaustion floods your body, eyes becoming heavy, as the final ounces of adrenaline finally leave your body. 
“Take the room,” Joel offers, “I can sleep out here.” 
“You slept on a wooden bench last night,” You fight, “And I’m younger, I can sleep out here.” 
“I didn’t sleep at all,” He counters, “So it don’t matter where I lie, I’m gonna be fast asleep in minutes.” 
“You’re sure?” You ask, lifting your heavy bones from the couch. 
“Go.” He nods his head towards the closed door to the second bedroom. 
“Goodnight.” You speak softly, picking up your backpack to take into the room with you. You’re asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. 
Taglist: @morning-star-joy @tightjeansjavi @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @darkroastjoel @dinsdjrn @sinsofsummers @montenegroisr @millenial-teenybopper @casa-boiardi @pedrotonin @punkshort @givemeth @noisynightmarepoetry @joeldjarin
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hauntedwitch04 · 6 months
Text
My Goddess
Rhysand x reader
Words: about 3.5k words
Warnings: smut, smut, I forgot to say smut, a little bit sad at the beginnig, my deepest insecurities, shower sex, rude male
Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky
p.s some parts are very personal (hair loss part and insecurities), and I'm kinda sorry, but I wrote this by heart and because of this it came out like this, hope you like it anyway.
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 5: Body worship
I have never had a good relationship with my body.
It sounds silly to say, but all my life I've never had a good relationship with me in general, and this is something that I and my brother Azriel have in common.
He since childhood has had to endure the sight of his hands being ruined by fire because of those idiotic half-brothers of ours.
I, on the other hand, have had to endure the sight of my legs, my belly, my face that I do not consider beautiful enough to please anyone, and all of this feeling would end up manifesting itself in extreme anxiety attacks that my physique demonstrates by losing all my hair. I have always been unable to look at myself in the mirror because I cannot stand to see my forehead devoid of hair, along with most of my skull, solely because I cannot fight what I have inside. I think in part I can't look at myself because I feel guilty about betraying the little me, whom I see again every time I look in the mirror, who imagined a beautiful and perfect life, which I am increasingly convinced I will never have. As a child I dreamed of meeting my partner, who would love me with all his life and we would have a family together, always with my brother close by.
My brother, on the contrary, as much as he too believed that he did not deserve a mate, never found any problems in finding a woman to spend a night with, being one of the most handsome men Mother has ever conceived. I, on the other hand, have never had too much luck in love, since every time I saw a man approaching me, my first reaction is to turn away being that I don't want to be disappointed and hurt. And partly because I am deeply in love with my brother's best friend, or rather one of them: the not very famous and not at all attractive Rhysand.
For as long as I can remember, I couldn't help but fall in love with his violet eyes and sly smile, but of course it never crossed my mind to confess how I feel, knowing that I would ruin a friendship I cherish as well as ridicule myself.
Like every Saturday night Mor has forced me to go out with my brother and his two other friends, Rhys and Cass, knowing that I never have too much desire to go out and show off my body. Yet here I am sitting back on a miserable chair in the corner of yet another bar, watching my friends having fun.
Immediately, however, I feel something in the air change, and I notice that a man is sitting next to me. Too close to me. As soon as I notice that closeness I immediately feel uncomfortable, so I try to move away, but immediately I feel his hand resting on top of my wrist, squeezing it tightly.
"Hey baby, where are you running off to?" He says in a faux-sweet voice as a stench of cheap alcohol escapes from his mouth, and immediately I find myself holding back a gag as well as trying not to show my fear.
"My brother and his friends are looking for me, I should go." You lie, trying to push me away but he squeezes tighter and makes you let out a half moan of pain, too.
"I'm sure they won't notice your absence. How about coming with me? We could have fun." He continues by giving me a wink, which sends a shiver all down my spine. I try to pull away again, no longer trying to be nice to him, but this time in addition to holding me close to him, he pulls me closer to him by the hand with which he holds my wrist. I in response to that gesture slap him on the cheek, so hard that the sound seems to resonate throughout the whole place, but I don't care exactly at this moment because I am more focused on his look of pure hatred that he is giving me.
"How dare you little bitch slap me! You should be grateful that someone has the courage to hit on you, you must not have many people trying to bed you at least show gratitude in those who have the mercy to do so." He says in a harsh, rough tone a few inches from my face, even spitting a little.
I have never felt so naked in my life.
I can already feel tears welling up when I hear a voice behind me, noisily interrupting my thoughts.
"I would advise you to let the girl go right away, and maybe our Azzy will only allow you to die after a week of torture." Says a voice hoarse and deep, warm and enveloping as a summer night. Immediately I feel a sense of relief, and I move back to meet Rhys's muscular chest, who immediately wraps an arm around my waist, to make me feel his presence and quietly tell me I was safe.
"You don't need to make all this fuss over a sleazy bitch, if you want her so bad you can have her, even though I had seen her first. Who do you think you are anyway, you little bitch?" Asks the man trying to approach Rhys, pointing a finger at him. Seeing his gestures my friend moves me behind his back, still holding my hand, while with a look capable of killing he looks at the man who is tormenting me.
I feel it emanating pure power, so strong, it sends shivers down my spine. I feel it pass between our intertwined fingers like a night breeze mixed with stardust.
I see his shoulders stretch out so that he stands in all his height, and shows himself in all his grandeur before his enemy.
"Your worst nightmare." He replies with a growl.
Fuck, I need a cold shower when I get home. This is my first thought, then I force myself to stay alert, remembering the situation we are in.
"Rhys it's not worth it to fight with this asshole, please take me-" I implore my friend, before being interrupted.
"What did you call me bitch?" Asks the asshole in front of us rhetorically, only to be slammed against the wall by an unseen hand, clutching at his throat.
"The young lady was just finishing saying something, now you're going to be a good boy, and I'm going to spare you the pain of cutting off your fingers piece by piece, and I'm going to do it with one blow." Young High Lord responds with feigned gentleness as I see him tighten his other hand to make his grip on the man's neck slammed to the wall tighter.
"Please Rhys, take me home, I just want to take a shower and go to bed." I pick up my speech where I left off.
"As you wish. Az, will you Cass take care of this pig?" Rhys asks, turning his face slightly to look at his friends who have since materialized beside us. I see my brother looking at me with eyes full of sadness and anger; he walks over and kisses my forehead softly, before answering Rhys.
"Sure. Can I do whatever I want with him?" Az asks as he shifts his gaze to the man who tried to touch me, his little sister.
"Give vent to your kinkiest perversions and all the imagination you have Azzy. I'll stay with her in case she needs anything, in case I'll let you know right away." Rhys says at first with his usual smirk, looking in turn at the man he was choking on the wall, who now seems to have gone pale with fear, and then turns his face into something serious.
My brother nods and I do not have time to see his next action that deep night-colored fog, quilted with a few stars, envelops me and I find myself in my room.
Next to me stands Rhys, watching me intently. All the power he exuded a few seconds ago has vanished, to make way for the gentle, kind look I'm used to.
"Are you okay?" She asks me in a whisper, as if afraid that if she spoke too loudly I would destroy myself. I look up and stare into his purple eyes, shining like two precious gems, staring at me so intently that I blush.
"Yes, thank you for intervening, I'm afraid to think what would have happened if I hadn't." I say, trying to make him believe that this is why I am upset, and not because of the words he threw at me. I know perfectly well how to defend myself against a man like him, I've been training my whole life to fight against far greater opponents, but it was his words that struck me deeply in the soul.
I try to hint at a half smile, then head for the bathroom and close the door behind me. From the last look I give him, he doesn't seem very convinced by my theatrics, but he doesn't say anything to me and lets me seek solace in some alone time.
Barely alone in the privacy of my bathroom, I open the tub water to cover the sound of my sobs and let myself go into an overwhelming sob. I spend a few minutes huddled on the floor in the corner of my bathroom brooding over the man's words.
You should be grateful that someone has the courage to hit on you, you don't have to have a lot of people trying to get you into bed at least show gratitude in those who have the mercy to do so.
I feel my heart bleeding, as if it had been pierced by a dagger. I don't even notice that the door has opened, too engrossed in remembering how to breathe. Immediately I see Rhys sitting across from me, his eyes detecting how worried he is Without asking he takes me in his arms and sits me on his lap, stroking my back with one hand, trying to calm my sobs, while with the other he pulls up my face, which I am trying to hide in his neck.
"Don't give me any more bullshit. Talk to me, please, that's all I ask. Take all you want, but talk to me, I can't see you like this." He says as he wipes away my tears.
I spend a few minutes in silence, thinking about what to do or what to say, when I decide to stop listening to the little voice in my ear and finally be honest with the man I love and esteem so much.
"He's right Rhys." I say in a sob.
"Point one, I don't think an asshole of that magnitude could be right, and point two, what would love be right about?" Asks the man holding me close to him.
I take a deep breath and totally open my heart to him.
"Rhys, no one will ever want me for who I am. If someone hits on me they either want to get to you or my brother, or they see in me an easy prey to have a one-night stand, believing I would accept their pity gesture. No one wants me for who I am, but that doesn't shock me either because who would ever want a person with a physique like mine. Besides, I look like a hairless cat, but you know the worst thing about losing my hair due to stress? It's that I can't hide how incapable I am of controlling my emotions beyond the fact that I'm obviously emotionally unstable. And then let's not start with my temper-" I begin to mumble, then increase the volume of my voice more and more, until I feel a pair of warm lips settle on mine. It takes me a few seconds to reciprocate the gesture and I bite down on his plump lips with my teeth. He in response, when I release his lip, takes advantage of my distraction to explore my mouth with his tongue. We stay like this for a few minutes, making out like two eager kids in the back of a disco.
Eventually we break away, both of us needing oxygen. I look at him, and for a moment I cannot conceive that the same boy who is standing here in front of me with his hair tousled from my hands being passed through it and his lips swollen and reddened, could at the same time be the most powerful High Lord all Prythian has ever seen, and yet this is the truth.
"I thought the best way to let you know that what you were saying was a load of crap was to let you know with actions, and not just words." He says with his usual smirk, as I fist him on the shoulder, and then continues. "Now I'm going to try to be serious. Believe me, love, when I tell you that I don't understand how every man on this island, indeed in this world, can't help but be in love with you. You are the kindest, funniest, smartest, most beautiful woman, oh for Mother if you are beautiful, you don't know how many times I had to restrain myself from commenting on what I would do to you because I knew Az would kill me, but believe me it was a real pain to admire you without being able to do anything I wanted to do or taste." He says with a wink, then turns serious again. "You are perfect, in every aspect of you, and don't let just a few more curves discourage you, because they are nothing but an advantage to me, because that way there is more to love, kiss and worship than you. And your hair, it's nothing but a testament to your willpower, your strength and what a badass you are. There is not a single facet of you, because each one is a fundamental part of the woman I love." I feel my breath come short, and he seems to understand because he continues. "Yes I love you, more than my own life, I love you as insistently as we need oxygen to breathe, and I wish I could see you with my own eyes and admire who you really are."
I can't help but kiss him again and then say four simple words that somehow seem to take a huge weight off my heart.
"I love you too." I whisper on his lips, before kissing him again. As before we get carried away with the kiss, but this time it seems to get even more passionate and deep, so much so that slowly Rhys gets up, making me get up as well.
He slowly pulls away from the kiss and to move on to kiss the neck area near my ear, then to whisper something to me.
"Would you like to take a shower with me?" He asks sensuously, as I feel his hands touch every single cell of my body, or so it seems to me. I nod, unable to speak, and so slowly we begin to undress each other, as the shower water magically turns on, and quickly becomes warm.
Once naked, facing each other, we look into each other's eyes and I see him smile, before taking my hand and kissing it, and then kissing my wrist, and so on until we reach his shoulder and this time the other ear where he whispers again.
"You are beautiful, and I can't wait to worship you as the goddess you are once we get into that shower." He says, as I feel a chill run down my spine.
We get into the shower and at first the only things we do is leave hot kisses on each other's skin until Rhys picks up the body soap and begins to gently scrub my back. Suddenly then I feel his hands move from the back to the front, where they begin to massage my breasts. I immediately feel my nipples harden under his touch, and the first moans begin to fall from my lips like an old prayer that he does not remember ever learning, but of which at the most opportune moment he remembers every word. He continues to tease my breasts with one hand, while with the other he begins to play with the center of my pleasure. I totally melt under her touch, as if a witch had cast a spell on me. I feel my knees beginning to give way, while he meanwhile continues his attack on my neck as well, leaving bites and marks of his passage. Just as I was about to reach the apex of pleasure, however, he stops, making me moan this time from the pain of not having reached my orgasm. Rhys turns me around with a simple gesture and matches my back to the shower wall as he presses himself on me, kissing every inch of skin available to him.
"I want to taste you on my lips, I can't afford to make you come solely with my fingers love." She says in a whisper, as she kisses my breasts, and takes one of the nipples in her teeth, while teasing the other with her hand. "I want to make you feel the queen you are." He continues, as he slowly goes to his knees and stands at the same height as my pussy. He thus begins to lick and suck my clit, while he teases my entrance with his fingers. Immediately I bring a hand into his hair, pushing him harder against my center, trying to achieve the pleasure I had missed before. Then his lips move lower until they take the place of his fingers, this time I feel his tongue enter me.
For a second I feel as if I can touch the sky with my finger, as I feel the orgasm coming more and more overwhelmingly. What makes me go further and cum, making me convulse loudly and name my beloved so loudly that even on the Continent they know who gave me such pleasure, is the moan he makes against my center's lips in approval.
"By Mother, you are the best thing I have ever felt in my whole life. I could spend hours devouring you, my whole existence, and I would eat nothing but you, but I can't wait to make you come with my cock." Says Rhys unceremoniously. My brain still foggy with pleasure does not immediately process what he is saying, the only thing I understand is that before long I will feel pleasure like what I just felt if not more.
I see him get up, and I do not have time to realize what is going on that I feel his member enter me, and at this moment I discover that there is actually another level of pleasure of which I was unaware. His thrusts are fast and deep, which combined with his sizable cock, cause him to graze my cervix each time, making me scream so loudly with pleasure that I doubt I will have a voice tomorrow.
We stay so wrapped around each other under the pouring water of the shower making love, sharing such an intimate and personal moment with the person we love most in the world. I feel him kissing every inch of skin he meets, when he is not too busy remembering how to breathe, or he is not whispering in my ear how beautiful I am or how perfect he thinks I am.
I can't quite tell how much time elapsed before I felt the sensation of impending orgasm coming again like a galloping horse, but one shared glance between the two of us and we immediately knew that the other was feeling the same thing, so he quickened his thrusts and I began kissing the sensitive spots on his neck, so that only after a few minutes did we reach pleasure by howling the other person's name.
We stand still for a moment, letting the wave of pleasure no longer cloud our senses, confusing us as we enjoy the sensation of the hot water in the shower. Then, I interrupt the silence to note something.
"Well at least we are already in the shower." I say in a joking tone. Rhys immediately begins to giggle as he hides his head in my neck, then continues to be silent before confessing something of his own.
"It seems like a good time to tell you that you are my mate anyway." He says with obviousness as he picks up the shampoo to wash my hair. I look at him shocked at how calmly he dropped such a bombshell.
"And you tell me like this? Like it's nothing!?" I say shocked, and I see him smiling at my reaction, because he knows that after all, there is no happier person in the universe than me, and you can tell by my smile and the twinkle in my eyes.
"And the worst part is yet to come my goddess, we still have to tell to Azriel." Rhysand confesses, with obvious fear in his face, and I can't help but laugh.
TAGLIST
@horneybeach1 @ash04w3 @123345566 @kidsaproblem @lust4lucille @lisamanban123 @alina02 @shodowbane09 @harleycao
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leclerc-s · 2 months
Text
paint the town red - part nine
CRY MORE RED BULL
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series masterlist
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AUSTRIA 2024
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isaiah atkins where the fuck is that little spider-shit?
harley keener currently? he's on the roof of mercedes hospitality tormenting toto.
isaiah atkins how the fuck has that kid lived as long as he has?
peter parker caffeine and spite
sebastian vettel what's this about peter telling red bull to 'cry more'
bianca stark-potts that's iconic. isaiah atkins no! it's not!
peter parker it's okay, we'll just shove lestappen down their throats this weekend and they'll forget all about it.
charles leclerc what the hell is a lestappen? peter parker it's you and max! charles leclerc what the fuck??
carlos sainz it's like how lando and i are carlando!
harley keener and how tony and steve are stony
tony stark what the actual fuck keener?
sebastian vettel or how nico and lewis are referred to as brocedes, right?
arthur leclerc see charles, even seb understands what we're talking about and he's older than you.
peter parker do you guys think i'll be able to meet nico rosberg and ask him about brocedes?
ollie bearman oh god, he's a menace. harley keener back home they call him spider-menace ollie bearman you know, that suits him.
isaiah atkins right, so apparently my job also requires me to babysit peter
bianca stark-potts isaiah, buddy, i hate to break it to you, but that's the main reason you were hired.
tony stark NO HE WASN'T! it was so that he could babysit all of you, except seb.
tony stark although, i'm not quite convinced that man isn't a menace still.
sebastian vettel i am an angel stark! tony stark jury's still out
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bianca stark-potts posted new stories
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local menace is pouting after isaiah scolded him
the best boy
so where we gonna go?
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sam wilson i bet tony is watching bianca like a hawk.
tony stark WELL WHO THE FUCK IS HE??
tony stark my gut is telling me it's like verstappen or something.
tony stark i just know it has to be someone from a different team
queen shuri for a man who claims he's such a genius, you sure are stupid
bianca stark-potts SHURI SHUT UP!
natasha romanoff i know who it is
tony stark WHAT? HOW?
bianca stark-potts THAT'S NOT FAIR, YOU SENT YELENA TO SPY ON ME? THAT'S SUCH BULLSHIT NAT!
natasha romanoff HOW DID YOU KNOW? bianca stark-potts for a former black widow, she's not very good at disguises. her black wig is horrendous.
joaquin torres i think it's charles. nothing can change my mind.
sam wilson it has to be like norris or sargeant.
bucky barnes clint managed to convince me, it has to be an older driver. i vote jenson button.
kate bishop well we know it's not yuki because who ever he is, he's taller than bianca.
tony stark nat, i'll pay you to tell me who it is.
natasha romanoff i only did it to know if her was good enough for her, i think he is.
natasha romanoff added one person
yelena belova ah kate bishop is here!
kate bishop oh no.
tony stark yelena, pleasure, who is my daughter seeing?
yelena belova natasha? natasha romanoff no, you can't tell him. it'll be much funnier when bianca tells him. yelena belova understood. sorry stark, i cannot say anything tony stark OH COME ON!
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harley keener added one person
isaiah atkins do i want to know why? or what this is?
carlos sainz bianca and charles have something to tell you!
isaiah atkins is it that they're dating?
charles leclerc how the hell? bianca stark-potts how the fuck?
isaiah atkins oh don't worry, it's not anything you two did. you're doing great at keep it a secret.
isaiah atkins harley and carlos on the other hand. they suck at keeping a secret. it's not like they're trying. they tease you two at every opportunity they get. seb's figured it out too.
charles leclerc how long do think it'll take tony or peter to figure it out?
bianca stark-potts i love my dad but he can't ever see what's in front of him. it took him months to figure out nat was a widow
harley keener as for peter, that kid couldn't figure that his girlfriend, mj, was flirting with him before they started dating.
isaiah atkins i hope you two know the paperwork for this is insane
charles leclerc well, we're not officially dating. bianca stark-potts so no paperwork yet.
isaiah atkins you're both idiots
isaiah atkins i hope you know that
bianca stark-potts WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?
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SILVERSTONE 2024
scuderiaferrari, harleykeener, and biancastark_potts have posted new stories
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silverstone isn't ready for track terror leclerc and chili sainz.
i leave my phone with these nerds for two fucking minutes
natasha come pick up your fucking sister
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bianca stark-potts nat, ask your guard dog to back off.
yelena belova bianca, you are not very nice.
yelena belova everyone says you are a nice person. i think they are liars.
bianca stark-potts YOU CRASHED MY DATE!
yelena belova natasha said i had to make sure he could handle them. i am pleased to announce he is.
yelena belova he is very nice. offered to pay for my meal if i stayed, i did.
joaquin torres love that for you. i would've crashed her date too bianca stark-potts JOAQUIN? I TRUSTED YOU? joaquin torres I WANT TO KNOW WHO HE IS!
sam wilson if we kick tony out will yelena tell us who he is?
yelena belova no, but i would like to inform everyone that sebastian vettel and carlos sainz also know who he is. charles is a little lost on who it is. he thinks it's isaiah like peter.
peter parker IT HAS TO BE HIM. BIANCA WOULD STAB ME IN THE BACK LIKE THAT.
bianca stark-potts I'M SORRY? WHO WAS THE ONE WHO TOLD NICK ABOUT BECK YOU SPIDER-FUCK
maria hill you people have problems. please stop texting each other.
bucky barnes no thanks maria. you can leave.
maria hill has left the chat
peter parker has added maria hill
peter parker NO ONE IS LEAVING! maria hill leave me alone! peter parker NO!
tony stark YELENA I WILL PAY YOU 500 THOUSAND TO TELL ME WHO HE IS!
yelena belova i find it more satisfying to see you lose your mind over this than money. money, which i could easily steal from you
bianca stark-potts i told you, i'll tell you when I WANT TO.
bianca stark-potts keep this up and i'll let you find out from an instagram post.
yelena belova it's not isaiah. i can tell you all that.
tony stark i will drop this, but only because i know bianca is capable of doing that.
bianca stark-potts thanks dad.
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series taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @celesteblack08 @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @jensonsonlybutton @octopussesarecool @trouble-sistar @raizelchrysanderoctavius @meadhbhcavanagh
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¡leclerc-s speaks! i’m in mourning. no one talk to me. in a perfect world charlos are teammates until at least 2025 when audi comes into play. ALL MEN DO IS LIE! WHAT HAPPENED TO “TOGETHER OR NOTHING?”
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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garfinkelstingle · 1 year
Note
heyy, I absolutely loved you timothée's fake ig posts. if you don't mind, could you do a part 3 for that one with blanca as face claim? that's ok if not. ty <3
social media au | timothee chalamet
click here for part one
click here for part two
pairing: timothee chalamet x celebrity!reader
warnings: swearing?? should be about it
a/n: HELLO!!!! it's been a hot minute! life has been lifing pretty hard right now (not even necessary in a bad way just in a "a lot" way) and so i've barely had time to breathe let alone post stuff on tumblr! but alas, winter break is here and i thought why not!!!! hope everyone's doing well & that you're happy with part 3 nonnie, even if it took me a literal eternity!! enjoy :) oh and also merriest of chritsmases to everyone celebrating!!!!
masterlist
yourinstagram
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liked by tchalamet, florencepugh and 1,321,439 others
yourinstagram fries before guys ;)
view all 38,392 comments
sydney_sweeney too cute
yourfan97 oh to be a fry on y/n's place...
yourfan62 timothee chalamet is stronger than me because if y/n were to look at ME this way, i would be a puddle on the floor and in no way or shape capable of taking a picture of any kind of her 😭
tchamalet but not all guys right????
yourinstagram obviously
*liked by tchalamet
timmyfan81 timmy really won the jackpot with y/n huh??????
tchalamet
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liked by yourinstagram, austinbutler and 1,922,348 others
tchalamet stay spooky
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zendaya scary boi
yourinstagram the scariest
*liked by zendaya, tchalamet
florencepugh you should do a edward scissorhands reboot lol
tchalamet this is my petition for just that
*liked by florencepugh
timmyfan72 he literally looks so good how?????
timmyfan99 pov you've never seen edward scissorhands and now don't want to unless timmy plays edward
yourinstagram the edward to my kim ♥️
*liked by tchalamet
yourfan62 no but i'm like 113% convinced this was a couple's costume you cannot change my mind ever
tchalamet
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liked by yourinstagram and 2,834,283 others
tchalamet feliz cumpleaños mi amor ❤️
view all 132,438 comments
yourfan62 will i ever be okay with this??? the answer is NO NEVER EVER EVER
timmyfan89 timmy really is beyond in love with her it's too cute i literally can't 😭😭😭😭
tomholland2013 hey y/n happy birthday mate!
yourinstagram thanks tom!!!
timmyfan91 happiest of birthdays to the one that makes timmy the happiest (thus making us fans even happier) 🤍
*liked by yourinstagram
yourinstagram ti amo ❤️
tchalamet ❤️❤️
yourfan62
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liked by timmyfan13 and 27,382 others
yourfan62 NO BECAUSE WHO GAVE THEM THE FUCKING RIGHT TO BE THIS FUCKING PERFECT IM LITERALLY SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AAAHHHHH
view all 1,392 comments
timmyfan73 they are my literal parents i do not care what anyone has to say i am their child and that's that
yourfan93 WHERE DO YOU HAVE THIS FROM?????
yourfan62 they were seen together in LA not too far from timmy's house yesterday 😭😭
timmyfan66 honestly i'd bet my left foot that they're living together i mean she's seen there CONSTANTLY now even when he seems to be out of town
yourinstagram
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liked by tchalamet, haileesteinfeld and 3,283,128 others
yourinstagram forever vacay w u <3
view all 45,283 comments
jennaortega too cute!!
florencepugh crashing your vacation next time cause this just looks too good to pass up on
yourfan62 ok but they are literal soulmates i said what i said
timmyfan18 the arms around her neck no i'm nOt okay 😭😭
tchalamet forever & always
*liked by yourinstagram
tchalamet
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liked by yourinstagram, tomholland2013 and 2,381,482 others
tchalamet 365.
view all 98,329 comments
haileesteinfeld can't believe it's already been a year of you and tiny foot!!!!
yourinstagram my feet aren't tiny his are just... never mind 💀
*liked by haileesteinfeld, tchalamet
timmyfan71 HOW HAS IT BEEN A YEAR ALREADY WHAT???
harrystyles i do feel entitled to credit considering that i took this masterpiece of a picture
yourinstagram & counting
*liked by tchalamet
yourfan62 NO BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN TELLING EVERYONE FOR CLOSE TO A YEAR TOO I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN CALLING THIS FROM THE BEGINNING IM A FUCKING GENIUS
yourinstagram
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liked by tchalamet, florencepugh and 4,382,419 others
yourinstagram time really does fly by fast when you're happy, huh? can't believe it's already been a year of absolute and utter bliss with my favorite person by my side ❤️ here's to infinity to come!!!
view all 373,328 comments
yourfan62 i wanna gloat but i'm also crying because these two are absolute and utter perfection 😭😭😭
timmyfan90 thanks for making timmy happy you're literally all he talks about in interviews!!!
niallhoran happy anniversary bubs!
zendaya otp
timmyfan19 i want what they have 😭
tchalamet i love you
yourinstagram my everything 🤍
timmyfan82
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liked by yourfan62 and 7,382 others
timmyfan82 timothee posted this picture on his story yesterday of him and yourinstagram in the car together and honestly my life has not been the same since 😭
view all 162 comments
yourfan62 they are literal couple goals i can't with them honestly
timmyfan18 the way there's nothing i wouldn't do for them
timmyfan73 no bc if they ever break up i will NEVER believe in true love ever again 😭
yourinstagram
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liked by tchalamet, ,zendaya and 4,281,390 others
yourinstagram addition to the family <3 say hi to oscar!!!!
view all 180,284 comments
haileesteinfeld omg oscar's the cutest thing ever!!!! can't wait to hang out with him soon 🥺
florencepugh the cutest wee little puppy i have ever seen
yourfan62 THEY GOT A PUPPY TOGETHER I REPEAT THEY GOT A PUPPY TOGETHER!!!!!!!!
timmyfan77 never have a i ever wanted to be a dog more than i do right about now
tchalamet oscar's officially my second favorite living thing in the world
yourinstagram the first one being?
tchalamet you. only you.
yourinstagram's story
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secret-subject · 6 months
Text
Why are we so convinced ADHD (and other neurodivergent people) can't be hypnotized?
This is something I've thought about a lot lately. So a little context of why:
So I've been doing hypnosis for about 12 years now. Back when I was 18 I joined the irc chat on WMM and started being hypnotized pretty much daily. I did files and I had dominants to play with and that continued for a long time. By the time I was in my mid 20's I was extremely easy, in fact too easy. The culture back then also wasn't the greatest for me and my subject agency was pretty mid (gotta love hindsight) but again, I was known for having a very good and very squishy brain. In 2022, my Mum was diagnosed with ASD but also got a surprise ADHD diagnosis. Now, we are very similar so she insisted I get tested and low and behold I have ADHD, inattentive subtype.
This blew my mind because for the longest time I had the clear signs of undiagnosed ADHD but a lot of these things were assumed came from my history of doing a buttload of conditioning files, my health conditions and just being "like that". By this stage I had stopped being hypnotized myself and focused on my role as a dominant and content creator because that for me was something I just had to focus on. My switching stopped and I didn't go under for about three years.
So now, I took a hiatus to go and try something else and when I came back I was stressed and got back into testing out files again. (Also super lucky in this time some friends of mine became hypnosis creators so that was a great way to dabble with people I can trust). My first few experiences were like getting on a bike after years of not riding. It was a little wobbly but soon with practice I was right back where I left off and now even better than that. I think right now I'm getting some of the literal deepest trance experiences ever. It's hard to describe but all I'll say is "oooof".
So why is this backstory important?
Because this is one very clear narrative of a person who had undiagnosed ADHD and found hypnosis very achievable with time, practice and a buttload of conditioning with the right people. Because my ADHD was not a factor until now, I never got told, "you can't be hypnotized" this self fulfilling proficy that makes people feel like this isn't for them which for me seeing this narrative in online spaces breaks my heart for the people who see this and feel that is their label and that is what sticks.
I think it's not our place to say who can or cannot be hypnotized as a general rule because there are not general rules in hypnosis. You can't look at someone and assess them based on factors you don't know or understand. In this world there are very few people who straight up cannot be hypnotized at all to some degree (far less then even the research people keep quoting says at this point) and this is why I feel so strongly that we need to instead of trying to label entire groups as "not good for play" to instead change the narrative to "let's see what works for more people" because brains are different and hypnosis can not be a one size fits all approach. It's too subjective for that.
This is also the biggest reason I made the ADHD hypnosis kink audio recently. I used my knowledge of hypnosis and some research on presentations of ADHD in combination to make something I felt was quite special. Maybe in the future this is something I can work on again because I want all the ADHDers with a hypnosis kink to be able to harness that hyperfocus and those skills we have to make kinky fun times extra fun.
So like, is it time we gave up generalizations on people like this? I know I'm ready to not hear my brain judged before you've even seen what it can do.
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brainwormcity · 4 months
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I'm absolutely convinced that this is the moment that Crowley fell in love with Aziraphale and you cannot change my mind. He is so pleasantly surprised. I mean, he'd just given away the freaking flaming sword to humans! Not just humans but those cast out for giving into temptation. Aziraphale specifically disregarded God's assignment to do what was for the good of humanity, rather than good for the Great Plan. At that moment, they were much more alike than Aziraphale would realize for a very long time.
After this, if Aziraphale is somewhere, Crowley finds his way to him. I've seen people remark that in the beginning, Crowley was trying to tempt the angel just to see if he could but I think that the questions he puts to Aziraphale and the situations he goes with him through are all spurred from this moment. This unexpected act of genuine kindness, if not good.
He wanted to know his thoughts. He wanted to know what he would do. He wanted to be around someone who made him feel like he truly wasn't alone. Heaven's rigid rules and hell's callous disregard be damned, on this day, he found a kindred spirit. Someone who was genuinely off of the binary of good and evil and damned if he didn't fall in love with him right that second.
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dumbbitchenergy17 · 5 months
Text
Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 8
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Chapter Seven: Because of You
Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.
Word Count: 5.4K
Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader
Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, joel actually cares :0, just fucking sad shit tw: trauma from abusive mother, description of child abuse
—————
I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes. I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life. My heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with.
Joel and Tommy returned soon after you passed on the question. They expected some resistance or some smart comment but you accepted the meal with a noise of thanks and eyed the medicine Joel provided but took it regardless.
Ellie was quickly berated by both Miller brothers to understand what the sudden calm behavior came from and clearly, the young girl had something to do with it. “I just talked to her?” That was her response and it was the truth. A single conversation with the young girl that didn’t involve scolding or harassment about being seen as ‘normal’ in Jackson was what occurred. Ellie worked at your pace not pushing you to reveal everything and treated you like a human being, not some wild animal that the people of Jackson think you are.
Whatever you took knocked you out leaving you sleeping throughout the rest of the day only to awaken nearing sunset with a healthy meal Ellie had gotten from the mess hall by Joel’s orders but she did sneak some desserts in for you to eat. The environment and relationship that was changing from your near-death experience started to become more noticeable. You still kept to yourself, your bedroom and the stables your sanctuary from all that was outside, you hardly talked to Joel this instinct that keeps you at a distance from the man, Tommy it was more of him talking to you but you would add your two cents in and were so rigid when he would appear at the stables at random times to check in on you or to bring you something to eat.
The only person you would really ‘close’ to was Ellie. You started eating some meals with Ellie just the two of you and she would fill the silence by talking about whatever was on her mind with you speaking at times, she would hang around the stables and help with the horses when she wasn’t at school or hanging with Dina and Jesse. She took you to some places she would go with her friends and there was one interaction where you met Dina and Jesse that didn’t involve you beating someone up or trying to kill them when you first met them. It was awkward with you standing slightly behind Ellie just staring at the two teens as they tried making conversation with you either responding with grunts and nods or not even saying anything. But when Ellie would speak to you a few short sentences would come out but directed to her.
Despite being close to the younger girl and interacting with her friends you kept that boundary with the Millers and yourself. No matter how many times Tommy would invite you over for a ‘family’ dinner you refused.
“I’m not in your family.” And that’s how it would end, no amount of begging or offering of your favorite meals would convince you. Why would you have dinner with people who claimed it was for a family when you had no relation to them?
The cold was only getting more colder entering the final month of the year before spring would soon come. Making sure all the horses had extra hay for this chill in the air especially the two colts that are Dakota’s. Once they were situated you went out to do some last-minute things only to be interrupted by the appearance of Ellie petting one of the horses Shimmer.
“What are you doing here?” Your tone may have sounded cold and threatening to others but the young girl knew otherwise.
“Just wanted to see if you’re done here. I need help moving something from Tommy’s to the house.” She says rocking on her feet it looks like she just got out of school her pack still strapped to her back.
“Why can’t you get Dina or Jesse?” You question grabbing feed from some of the older horses petting Red in passing, “Because the two of them have this dinner date thing—blegh.” She says rolling her eyes and making a gagging noise.
“I thought they broke up?” You were very confused by the two’s on-and-off relationship, “Yeah they are doing this date to see if they want to get back together. Come on let’s go I need your help and everyone else is busy.”
Adding the remaining food in the large trough outside all of the older horses' section you move back inside grabbing your coat and throwing it on. “Fine.” Ellie pumps a fist up in the air with glee as you take your time signing out in the log and writing some notes on items needed. Ellie rocks on the heels of her feet,
“Come on let’s goooo.” She groans and you follow the girl out of the stables trying to take the quickest route to Rancher Street. Normally you would take backstreets walking through the few wooded areas only to walk through the main streets when completely abandoned. The awkwardness from the lingering stares from people as you follow the younger girl like a shadow keeping close by but distant enough that people seemed to move away when the two of you came near. It didn’t bother you, you weren’t looking for companionship or kindness from these people you didn’t know them and they didn’t need to know you.
The family street appears as the two of you pass by the house you reside in towards the other house containing the younger Miller brother and his wife and child. Ellie bounds up the porch steps letting herself in holding the door open for you to follow. You hear the door close behind you and the sound of voices further into the house but you can’t make it out.
“Tommy we’re here!” Ellie calls out and Tommy responds with an ‘Over here!’ and the two of you enter more into the house. You should have noticed something was off with Ellie’s almost nervous but excited energy. When the two of you turned the corner and saw the dining room you stopped in your tracks. The table was set for dinner food was already prepared Tommy held his son on his hip bouncing the slightly fussy baby, Joel sat on one side of the table already nursing a glass of whiskey, while Maria entered with what you assume was the final piece of the dinner.
“Great you guys are here come sit food is still hot.” Tommy gestures as he places his son into the chair designed for the baby before taking his seat at the head of the table. Maria moves to sit beside her child the baby separating the couple. Ellie already throws off her pack and coat taking a seat beside Tommy leaving an empty seat between Ellie and Joel. You still haven’t moved staring at the display.
“Come on kid, food’s gonna get cold,” Tommy calls out to you and your eyes slowly move from the table to the man. He carries an almost hopeful smile on his face as the others stare at you waiting for you to join in their family meal.
“What the fuck is this.” Void of emotion and sharp edge to your words. You were cornered the air was thin and a pit in your stomach made your insides churn.
“Hey, language,” Joel calls out in a warning tone, especially before the young child. Your gaze snaps away from Joel to Ellie who looks anxious about the growing tension, “You said we were just picking something up from here.” Your throat felt tight and a tingling sensation fills your fingers flexing them trying to gain feeling.
A sheepish look covers the young girl, “You wouldn’t have said yes if I asked. You never said yes before. So I thought this would be the best way to get you to come…” Her plan which everyone else seemed to be involved in had backfired horribly.
“I’m not hungry.” Your response is short already rejecting all of this: this idea, the meal, the people, everything. You didn’t want this. “You haven’t eaten since lunch and that was hours ago.” Tommy brings up having been the one to bring lunch for you just a simple sandwich not filling enough to miss dinner.
“I’m not eating that.” You shake your head sending a glare to the meal before you. Though the smell and appearance of it once made your mouth water and crave it you only felt ill looking at it.
“We can get you something I’m sure we can mix something up real quick. It would be good to all sit together and talk about how our day has been anything just a nice family dinner.” Tommy tries to convince you but it was that one word that made you want to hurl.
“I’m not part of your fucking family.” You hiss taking a step back, “I don’t want this or you or anyone.” You wanted to bolt you wanted to be back in that cabin maybe you should have pressured them more to put you out of your misery back then or maybe not fought as hard against those raiders.
“Why can’t you just accept our help or the fact we care about you?! Sure the world is fucked up but you don’t need to hate the small amount of good that is left,” Ellie stands taking a step towards and a frustrated look crosses her face. “If some shit happened to you just talk to us but don’t fucking act like your the only one suffering. You don’t want a chance to be a part of a family that cares for you again be my fucking guest.” It was like a punch in your gut and if there was any food in your system it would have left your stomach. Your gaze snaps to the three adults each of them with ranges of pity.
Fucking pity.
They saw you as someone weak.
Some broken little thing that needed fixing.
Your gaze pauses briefly with Maria’s, the understanding of how hard those words affected you. She knew the truth she knew why you were cold-hearted your life focused on yourself and everyone else was your enemy. The look of a mother who wished to comfort a child. Why hadn’t you ever received that look? What made you so different that she could never give you that look? It made you fucking sick.
A metallic taste floods your mouth from how hard you are biting your cheek. The weight on your chest felt unbearable just having them stare at you. You don’t even think you could respond unless it was to throw up. It was hot and uncomfortable in that room and it only seemed to rise in temperature. Your vision just seems to tunnel black creeping in from the side.
Fuck you can’t breathe.
You probably could have ripped the door from the hinges from how hard you swung the door open. A loud crash as the door slams against the wall but you don’t even care. Numb feet trip down the steps the coldness of the air heightens as you rush away. The people inside that house their voices fall on deaf ears. You couldn’t hear anything. Blindly letting your body guide you somewhere finding the familiar clearing that was introduced to you by Ellie. Where you sat awkwardly to the side just observing the trio of friends laugh and tell jokes. They tried to include you but you just shook your head listening in as you picked the dirt under your nails. Your chest screamed for air that it desperately needed. The blood spills freely from your mouth staining the snow a crisp crimson. You hold onto a tree with one hand hunched over gasping for air surprised you haven’t buckled over.
Why didn’t she care about you?
Why didn’t she love you? She could have at least pretended for your sake.
And why didn’t he stay? Did he care that little that he didn’t want to try?
Was she right? Just a bastard child to a bastard father.
“Kid?” Your eyes darted spotting the couple standing a few feet away from you. Maria holds her son in her arms the baby is sound asleep wrapped up. Tommy takes a step forward and you react taking a stumbling step back swiping your mouth ridding the blood that paints your lips and a bit of your chin. “You’re alright..” Tommy stops holding his hands out like he’s talking down some rabid animal.
“Tommy,” Maria calls out to her husband who glances back as the woman moves forward, “Go tell the other I got her…give us some time to talk. Girl on girl.” She says before looking over at you who watches the interaction with cautious eyes. Tommy hesitates just for a moment before taking his son and leaving the clearing until it’s just the two of you. Maria heads swiping some snow off the log that substitutes as a bench taking a sit before patting one end. You don’t move keeping your distance.
“You don’t have to might be nice just to sit and talk.” She says warmly, not an ounce of disgust or even remotely upset with your actions in her home. You shuffle forward but sit on the snowy floor a good foot or two separating you. “Ellie is sorry for what she said, though I’m sure she’d feel even worse if she knew how hard those words hit you huh.” She speaks not expecting you to respond. Finding more interest in the snow your gloved hand tracing shapes in the snow.
“Is it the fact that you don’t want to have dinner with us or you’ve never been given the opportunity to have a normal meal with people?” Maria saw the way your gaze snapped to her before darting back to the snow avoidant of the adult’s gaze.
You’re not even sure you’ve had a decent meal in your entire life. Even being here in Jackson you’ve eaten the bare minimum to survive. Why would you indulge yourself in the luxuries of a homecooked meal or even fresh food? You didn’t deserve it, a stranger in this place. No reason for them to feed you well enough until they can throw you make in that cell or perhaps turn you over to the raiders.
“It’s not fair.” You mumble and Maria looks down at you not rushing you to speak, “You live this great life, a perfect little family in this perfect town. Nothing is wrong with you.”
“Not everything is perfect. We’ve all lost something…some more than others. I hav—had a son, Kevin,” Maria falters slightly and you can hear the sudden sadness lace her voice as you look up at her, “He was only three on Outbreak Day. Tommy has lost people he’s cared for, same with Joel and Ellie. It takes time to come to peace and some just never get over it.” Maria says a sense of peace despite the fact of losing a child.
“It still hurts but the pain gets easier but it never leaves. Some days are better than others. I can only be grateful for the life I have now and knowing my little boy is in a better place.” Her voice gets all choked up and she swipes away a stray tear from he misty eyes.
“I’m sure he knows he is loved.” You say softly and she nods looking down as a few tears fall but she takes a moment to compose herself.
“I’m sure in another world both my sons would have known each other. I’m sure in another world your mother would have loved you the way you deserved to be loved.” She says and you’re not sure how to react.
You’re not sure you could ever imagine a world where she loved you. To hold you in her arms like you were fragile glass. To read to you stories about far-off lands of heroes fighting to save the day. To soothe your tears and heal your cuts and scrapes you gained for having too much fun not from getting beaten and burned by those around you. To care about your interests and the things you enjoy. To be funny and make you laugh so hard you cry. To hold your hand when you are scared and protect you from the nightmares and fears that couldn’t hurt you. To make you a homemade meal to sit at a table and talk about your day and just be together. Maybe you would have a day in that picture. He’d come home from whatever job existed before the Outbreak Day, complain about the long day but happy to come home to his daughter and wife.
“I don’t think she’d ever love me no matter what world we lived in.” You wonder what kind of person you’d be in a different life but you believe that some people truly can’t change. Maybe this apocalypse truly brought out the real side that people had hidden in a normal society. “I’d rather have her lie to me. To at least act like she wanted to read me stories, to hold me on the cold nights instead of sleeping by a barely working radiator, to have my father be in my life and not just a string of drug addicts and horrible men, to tend to my wounds from bullies instead of learning how to stitch my first cut at nine, to just sit with me and a goddamn table and talk to me! To treat me like her kid...her fucking daughter instead of some bastard child!” Your throat grew more tight and your vision more blurry. It was anger a hatred towards her. You were jealous of all of those people who had good parents. A father in their life. A mother who loved them. You got neither. You wanted that. You craved it.
“I just wanted a mom.” You gritted out a burning in your eyes until you felt something run down your cheeks. Raising your hand see wetness appear on your gloves before turning your attention to Maria who looks at you sadness covering her eyes. Harshly rubbing your eyes to rid the tears and scowl though not a very good one. “Doesn’t matter it’s stupid anyway.”
“It’s not.” Maria defends against your statement, “You deserved someone to care for you and she failed you. Not you. You deserved that life you wanted and she failed to give that to you. She failed at being a mother. You didn’t fail as a daughter.” She says and it’s quiet between the two of you. A mother who wished she could’ve given the world to her first child but was given the chance to try again and a daughter who gave all she could’ve to a woman who was meant to be a mother and given nothing in return. Maria stands up holding a hand out for you. It’s a moment before you accept her hand though it’s not the action of helping you stand but telling you something deeper.
A mother caring for a child that isn’t even hers.
The walk back to Rancher Street has a new energy and a different feeling. You can’t describe how things changed between yourself and Maria but it did. As the familiar view of the house you occupy with Joel and Ellie comes into view a guiding hand rests on your shoulder and you’re brought away to the house that is Maria and Tommy’s. “Why are we going over here?” You ask confused maybe Joel and Ellie were waiting in their house. But they would have been waiting in their home for you to return.
“Just trust me.” She says and while a part of you, the part that screamed at you to run and hide. To reject this adult’s trust, you didn’t know her, she could hurt you, you don’t know her intentions. But you still followed after her until you reached inside the house that remained empty no sound of Joel or Ellie. Coming around the corner is Tommy and their son held in his arms. “You’re back.”
“Can you go sit at the dining table for a moment?” Maria asks and you nod trailing over to the dinner table to food still set and waiting for someone to eat it. You could hear some muffled voices a whole room separating you from deciphering the words between the couple. The couple returns with the male holding Liam as he places the baby in the highchair. The child babbles at his father before Tommy pulls away heading off to the kitchen with Maria. The baby seems in their own world before he makes eye contact with you and you feel locked in its gaze. A staring contest between a teenager and an infant. Pinned under the child’s innocent gaze unable to react. You weren’t sure what to do. He seems to see something you don’t do before giggles fill the room as it laughs at you. Maria and Tommy return the couple smile softly at the sight.
Your gaze snaps to Maria and Tommy, “I don’t know why it’s laughing at me.” The worried expression only causes the child’s laughter and babbling to increase.
“Well, Liam seems to like you so I don’t think you need to worry about him giggling at you,” Maria says before serving generous portions of food onto a large plate and covering it to keep the food all warm. She gives the plate to Tommy who collects his son and the two head back out and you watch them leave. “Where are they going?” You question as Maria grabs a new plate and starts filling it with a spread of the food placing it at one seat and grabbing a new plate she looks up at you.
“What would you like?” She asks and you look at the food, then the plate, then at her a look of confusion. “What?”
“What would you like to eat? There is chicken, a mix of vegetables, and mashed potatoes with some gravy we also have some leftover cookies but those can be for dessert.” She explains pointing at the different options before you. It hit you hard in the chest what she was doing for you. “You don’t have to stay, I can serve you and you can stay here and I’ll eat somewhere else or you can sit somewhere else in the house if you feel more comfortable.” She reassures you willing to work at your level. To just sit at a table and talk.
“You can choose.” You say fidgeting with the gloves on your hands feeling hot from the layered clothes. She does a spread of the options giving you the option to try everything with portions you would never serve yourself. It was too much food that you didn’t deserve. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen this much food just for you in your life. Maria settles down going to get started on her meal when she looks at you sitting across from her staring at the meal unsure where to start or if you even could. Maria stands up grabbing her plate, “Come on.” She grabs your plate and drink follows after her as the two of you leave the dining room finding yourself in the family room. Maria places her food on the small table in front of the couch gesturing for you to follow.
“You can sit on the floor or the couch whatever you prefer.” She says before moving toward the television to set something up. You sit on the ground your plate of food resting on the table at your chest your legs crossed under the small table. “You can start eating if you’d like. Don’t wait up for me.” She says over her shoulder and the hunger you’ve been holding back has you digging into the meal. Rich flavors and the weight of the fresh warm meal a great feeling in your body. A pleasant sound fills the room as light shines from the tv. Maria sits on the couch her plate resting on her lap as she starts to eat as the film begins on the screen.
“This is one of my favorites.” She says and the film plays and you’re sucked into the story reading the title of the film with wide curious eyes.
“The Lion King? How can a lion be a king?” You say looking back at the older woman, “Just watch the movie.” She says and you return your attention to what’s on screen.
You ended up moving up onto the couch around the midpoint, the food filling you up, and when Maria said that you were allowed to have more servings you declined so full from that. You weren’t sure how you got so invested in the film, feeling a deep sadness and shock when Mufasa died. To be invested in the characters Timon and Pumba a crack of a smile listening to their jokes. By the time the credits came it wasn’t shocking from the full meal, the film, and just the exhaustion from the day's events you drifted asleep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch your arms acting as a pillow.
Maria got to work quietly cleaning taking your plates to the kitchen and started to pack up the remaining food leaving leftovers for them but having some to give to Joel and Ellie. With the leftovers in hand, she glances at you still asleep on the couch the dim glow of the TV shines on your features before she quietly exits her home to fetch her husband and child.
Joel wasn’t sure what to say or do when you returned. Given Ellie’s outburst that quietly turned to guilt once you fled his brother’s home, they went out looking for you. Looking back at their home, then the stables all the while comforting the young girl who was filled with guilt for the harsh words she had spat. When Ellie suggested a location the young introduced the older one to they ran into Tommy with Liam who reassured them that Maria had you and they were talking things out and to return to their home.
Joel wasn’t expecting Tommy and his nephew to appear at his door with what looked like the meal they were meant to eat. Still, he questioned where you were but Tommy reassured him that Maria was providing her dinner and it would be better to make it a gradual approach involving you in these things. He could understand that, you kept to yourself eating meals alone in your room or at the stables when someone would bring you something, you came and went with little to no warning. Sometimes late a night he had to really strain his already bad hearing for the front door to quietly creak open and even quieter footsteps travel around the first floor before retreating to your room. So the four of them ate the meal Maria prepared in Joel’s dining room. Ellie hoped to apologize to you but for the time being, was able to distract herself with Tommy’s son. Now that it was truly dark and a meal would be over when another knock came at the door and it was Maria with leftovers he couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated.
“She fell asleep after dinner. Tuckered out from the day.” Maria says while trading the leftovers to Ellie for her son. Joel nods his fingers holding the loops of his belt, “Well myself or Ellie will come over in the morning to collect her.” When he said that he saw the look Tommy and Maria gave each other clearly he was out of the loop with something.
“What is it?” A hint of concern in his tone. “Joel..” Tommy starts not sure the best words as Maria takes Tommy’s hand giving it a reassuring squeeze, “We’d think it might be better if the kid stays with us.”
Joel wasn’t sure how to take that news. Did you ask to stay with them given the events of today? Was it something he did before? “I’m sorry what?” The words didn’t seem to register.
“We just think it might be good for her to be in a more family-oriented environment,” Tommy says and Joel sends him a questioning look, “The hell does family-oriented mean?”
“Joel come on, she stays practically locked up in her room and if not she’s at the stables until she has no choice but to come back. Ellie talks and tries to spend time with her but seriously Joel do you know one thing about her? You both are busy anyways with Ellie in school and you with your patrols she’s left with nothing to do.” Tommy says and Joel feels like this is an attack on his skill of taking care of a child. His hand rests on the broken watch around his wrist. He raises Sarah all by himself with the help of Tommy but it is just him and his babygirl. Then there was Ellie he would say he is raising her well for an ambitious spitfire of a kid. Tommy’s words hurt him and the image he had of being a good parental figure but it shined a light. He saw Ellie as his daughter his kid to protect and care for but in the beginning, you were some brat shoved in his hands as his responsibility now but he couldn’t explain this need to watch over you. Though he did it while keeping a 15-foot pole separating you both.
“You said you couldn’t do it cause of Liam why the sudden change?” Joel wanted to find an excuse just the tiniest one so he could claim he was the better fit but he had no clue why he wished this. The old him would be rejoicing and letting them take you off his hands.
“That’s because we didn’t know her. All of us needed to learn to trust her and we do. She’ll be around at least one of us when with Liam and this might be the first step and getting her out of her shell,” Maria says “She’s been through a lot Joel and she’s only now wants to talk about it. She needs normalcy in her life. I don’t mean this in a wrong way but you and Ellie still live and act like you’re out there fighting to survive.” Now that riled up the older Miller. Sure he kept to himself spoke when only necessary to do his job then returned home to do it all over again but things were different now. Ellie and him had things that they never had out there and being here was their fresh start from everything that has happened to them.
“Tommy.” Joel looked at his brother hoping he would try to defuse the situation and maybe reconsider but he didn’t. “Did you even ask her? Do you really know her well enough to know what’s best for her?” He sounded spiteful a bite to his words.
“Stop it,” Tommy’s voice curt to his brother and his wife, “We just came here to tell you she’s going to be staying with us. Not fight over who knows her better. If she wishes to return to stay with you she’s more than welcome to.” It’s quiet between the three adults before Liam begins fusing and it’s too late for the baby to be out.
“Look you’re welcome to see her. We’re not keeping her away from you Joel but if you really think she’s better off with you. Put some goddamn effort in getting to know her instead of treating her like some stranger.” Tommy says before delivering his brother a pat on his shoulder that was meant to be comforting but only felt like a mockery. The family retreats back to their home as Joel closes the door a weight in his stomach as he stares at the woodgrain on the door.
“Joel?” Ellie’s voice makes him turn from where he stands to find Ellie standing in the living room. He was sure she heard their conversation but didn’t but in. “Is she not staying with us anymore?” Sadness laced her features and it only added more guilty weight to his gut. This wasn’t something he could give some hopeful response that things would be better but he truly didn’t know. You’re decision would be up to you and it may be his fault for not putting in an effort.
“I don’t know kiddo…I don’t know.”
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