#it's been years and they both know how the other feels yet they STILL will not take that step. will not say what they feel.

[soupandsimple]

Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)

[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]

* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)

** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)

…………….

Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.

Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.

Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”

“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”

That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.

After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.

“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.

“I would have loved if you did.”

You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”

“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”

He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.

“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”

You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.

“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”

“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.

You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.

Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.

Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.

“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.

“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.

So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.

“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”

Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.

“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.

He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”

All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.

But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.

“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.

You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.

“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.

You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.

“You can’t do what?”

“Return to the real world.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”

“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”

You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.

“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.

“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.

As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.

He then finally spoke.

“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.

Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.

“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.

Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.

“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.

Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.

He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Fluff and Sexual tension at the end -> Raw +18 warnings will come later in other chapters

Notes: Thank you for reading and for all the nice hearts you have given to this series <3 Ready for Bridgerton S3?

WC: 4.5K

It took all your strength to be on your right side of mind for a week. You called it a simple infatuation but your mind kept calling it... calling it... in reality, you didn't know how to call it but mere fixation was not. Was it supposed to happen in such a way that by only sharing a few glances, you could feel desire? This type of feeling was meant to be grown like plants, is it not? With talks, with promenades and tea and biscuits.

But you had those already.

Your eyes popped as the thought grew and grew. Indeed you have shared all of those with him. Seven years ago you started talking. He was your age, 21 and you 14 when by magic you two mixed like butter and toast. Talks? More than enough. Walks? More than a normal courtship can have. Tea and biscuits? More than you should have eaten.

You had scratched your forehead as you stared at the figure of Lord Coxingworth making his way to his carriage. The third talk of the week and you have learnt all the right things. All the proper ones. Benedict would have never.

"Stop it" you whispered as you shook your head, comparison cannot bring anything good, both are different and oh yes quite different "Ugh" you chastised yourself because your mind was going in circles "It is temporary," you said "My courses," you said looking at your dress, underneath "It might be that"

You were the most sentimental when your courses were expected. Indeed that was it, it is a good friendship and shall not be confused with anything more.

“Miss Ashbourne” the sound of Sarah appeared with a knock “an urgent note for you, from Eloise Bridgerton”

When you opened the small squared note you saw her handwriting in the fashion of urgency as she said “Let us exchange some judgemental words about the world. We should talk”

A sudden fear came to you, she knows. How could she? Benedict told her. How could he? No, he couldn’t.

You make no haste to walk out with Sarah by your side as you make your way to the park. It was a lovely day, the sun was out and there was no wind at all. The park was crowded and yet Eloise was easy to find, you knew where she would be, she loved the bridge and the pond.

“There you are future Lady Coxingworth or Marquise Ashdown”

“You should have brought swimming attire, it could have been the most useful when I threw you to the pond”

She smiled, her cheeks had the most beautiful glow as she gave you a hug and then proceeded to sit on the bridge. You sat beside her and let the sun hit your face and for a moment the focus was on another Bridgerton.

However, the crisp of the day proved to be more equipped than you two and so you decided to escort Eloise to her house. The grandiose of it always made your eyes soft.

“Well come on for a small refreshment and then you part” she offered and you accepted

And while walking inside the pastel drawing room you spotted the nape of Benedict as he kept reading the journal of the day.

“A bit late to read news is it not?”

He turned around from the soft couch and smiled at you “not at all, for me is morning still”

“Yes brother we all know you didn’t sleep last night”

Your stomach made a turn, why he didn’t sleep? Was he perhaps talking to someone?

“I have a commission coming next week and the deadline is approaching so I stayed awake working on the details and then I forgot it was morning already when I started drawing and... well it is done and here I am reading the news of the day with a headache” he closed the journal and stared at you “Miss Ashbourne, how are you this fine morning?”

You snorted, your morning was hours ago “Good thank you, the most wonderful morning” you followed the game “I came from the pond with Eloise”

“I have painted that” he commented “You’ll find a very badly angled canvas by the entrance"

“it is not bad, Benedict” Eloise said

“My profes-“

“Forget about art school, I can’t believe that you follow their word. Today’s art is bland like fish for breakfast”

He chuckles as you see their banter “They do have excellent points to give”

“And I am far from interested in them”

“What about you, Miss Ashbourne?”

“Me?”

“Interested”

In what? On who? You asked for yourself

“Well-“

“That is a yes” he stood up “sister would you mind…?”

“We have been walking and standing most of the afternoon, brother. She might be tired”

“Let her speak then”

Both pairs of eyes landed on you, how could you avoid a private chat with Benedict? Your heart was not prepared.

He offered his arm and you took it. Both of you walked downstairs, the colours of the sunset settling outside the majestic house.

“My mother has ordered them to hang every single painting I have made. Quite adamant I had to be with her for her not to hang my five-year-old pieces”

You laugh softly as the image comes to mind. “I would not blame her. Eloise is right”

“Hmmm”

“I am sure that professor had good points but art has proven to be the most emotional is it not?”

“Your point?”

“That one cannot structure emotions. One cannot compare the same canvas with the other one as if they were similar. They are not, they hold different emotions and perspectives.”

You stopped as Benedict looked at one of his paintings hanging on the wall. The fruit bowl had the most detail you have ever seen.

“You speak like a true artist,” he said still fixated on front

“I might not be one for the brush and paint but I do know other things”

He quickly turned “Like what?”

You instantly blushed. You were not going to start reciting mathematics or philosophy. So you shrugged in silence which made him smile.

“What about that stolen poetry book?”

“Oh” he remembered “in my room”

“Yeah? Well I don’t mind for a new poem today”

You snorted “I shall go, it’s getting quite dark outside and my mo-“

“I believe you don’t remember that for me is morning now”

You dropped your shoulders at the still childish game “Is it?”

“Oh it is”

“So on this fine morning” you smiled “you want me to fetch my book and come back so I can read one more poem?”

“Yes, after you have followed your pius girl routine”

“Meaning?”

“Aren’t you going to bathe?” He smirked as you slapped him with your hand“And eat with your mama and then prepare for bed?”

“Yes… I should do that” you whispered

“Come here before you sleep and read to me. I am not a stranger after all”

His smile and the glint of mischievousness were the things that made you follow that routine in its perfection.

The bathing went fast as the soapy rose water left your skin glistening, the dinner made your stomach fill and by the end when your mother said good night and your lady left you alone, you took the green robe by the end of your bed and did the most silent walk ever.

You walked with your velvet slippers and swayed across the gardens careful of not being noticed and minutes later you knocked softly on the window you knew the art studio was in.

It made you giggle, the thought of using the back door like any other servant. Such a sneaky way, such adrenaline of doing something like this and unaccompanied. If Lady Whistledown could see you now, tomorrow you were sure there will be a paper with only your name on it.

“You are late,” he said

“I am not, I did my things fast” you argued getting inside where the kitchens are “You have lost your sense of time today”

You didn't bother to close the door because it would have made a sound. The kitchens were empty and the only light that could be seen was the candle by the countertop.

"So which one would you read to me?" He said behind you

You turned seeing his face slightly darkened “Patience, let me sit down at least”

“You make me wait like a child”

“Are you not that?” You coyly smiled while walking to his studio, you knew above you the Bridgertons were sleeping and that only increased the adventurer within you. And when you entered, the same smell filled your lungs, you moved the robe and sat down on the maroon couch. You watched intently as Benedict eagerly closed the door and tried to move all the cluttered brushes and boxes.

You felt your body tense as he walked past the sofa and picked a book. You didn’t want to ask what the book was and why the sudden interest. You watched as he turned around with the book open.

“And what is that?” You questioned

“My own journal, I want to see if the poem will spark any sort of inspiration… for a painting”

“Very well” You nodded ready to split the book in your hands and ready but his hand as soft as a pillowcase stopped yours

“Forgive me, do you need something to drink?” He asked and saw the thoughts in your eyes “Perhaps something stronger than milk?”

“Brandy you mean?”

He shrugged “If you want a sip I can give you from mine”

“I am not a child. I am a woman”

“I know”

“Then I want a glass, a quarter of what you normally drink”

“Your wishes are commands, my lady, let me get us something and you shall begin reading while I look for it, yes?"

"Yes"

The candle by his desk was enough for you to see how he stood up and went to the corner where the brandy and the cups were. You opened the book on a different page and you adjusted your eyesight.

“I got it”

“Tell me the name” he ordered still pouring some brandy into what you believe is his glass

“Beneath the Velvet Veil”

“Ooooh” he remarked “beneath… the velvet rail. Do you believe is about what lies beneath a woma-“

“Benedict” you said harshly “not everything has to be about women”

“I disagree but please” he returned with the glasses and offered one “One sip before you start”

The smell of alcohol made your nose wrinkle nevertheless, you drank from the glass and let the liquor slip through. The burn in your throat made your eyes watery and it made you cough a little, the sweetness of it however made you feel more awake.

“Good?”

“Quite” You took another sip out of bravery and tasted it better, your eyes, suddenly fixated on the poem started to scan the first line

"Beneath the Velvet Veil"

Beneath the velvet veil of night,

Where shadows whisper, hearts take flight,

A silent war of classes rages on,

As dreams of change are fiercely drawn.

In cobblestone streets where lanterns glow,

The cries of the oppressed begin to grow,

Against the tyranny of wealth and power,

They yearn for justice in the midnight hour.

With fervent hearts, they take a stand,

United voices across the land,

For a world where privilege has no reign,

And every soul may dare to dream again.

Oh, let the winds of change arise,

And lift the veil from blinded eyes,

For in the hearts of those who fight,

Lies the dawn of a new, just light.”

Benedict blinked twice and rapidly formed a smile on his face “This one here can spark a revolution”

“It takes more than one poem to do so"

"True," he said drinking again "but it takes a poem with such desire to stir some passion in people" he leaned back and grunted "Does it say which year was published or at least... bind together?"

You quickly scanned it "No, there's nothing else"

"It can't be more than a few years old I assume, so whatever the fight this poem was trying to build... it failed" he snorted "We are still the same"

"Unequal wages outside London" you rapidly added "Social reputation as a means to oppress..." you sighed

Benedict curved his lips at the so sudden but so true comments coming from your mouth "You say it with such experience"

"I am a woman in society, Benedict"

"And a lovely one"

You blushed at his words, not the compliment that was given, but the way his voice was, a soft low tone as if he was singing and that made you stare at his lips for a second until you distracted yourself with one final sip of the fruity brandy.

"Thank you, what I mean is that I do know things"

He moved fast on his spot trying to stare at you "Yes you have said so already... please tell me, what are these precious things you know?"

You laughed and shrugged "A lot, Sciences, languages, music, social sciences"

Benedict snored and smiled "You are boring me"

You opened your eyes and took your hand and tried to pinch his arm "I am an accomplished lady. I am also quite observant"

"Are you?" he questioned, "are you really?"

"What does that mean?"

"Do you have an inkling of a clue as to why I have not slept?"

"Because you were working?"

"Partially" he took his hand and ruffled his messy strands of hair "That damned painting, the commission is taking longer"

"Because you can't sleep," you said

"No, because..." he dropped his shoulders and drank the whole glass "Because my thoughts are somewhere else"

You blinked slowly at his words "Are you well? I know a good doctor that-"

"I am well"

"But then what is it that is making your thoughts wonder?"

He licked his lips as the brownish liquid slipped through "You"

You swallowed as your throat went dry and as much as the fire within you wanted you to act confident... you just tried to be absorbed into the cushion as if you were retracting yourself.

Benedict took the silence as his turn to keep talking so he moved closer and rested his chin on the back pillow "Be so kind as to tell me how is it that inspiration works?"

what kind of question was that? you asked yourself and you again shook your head in silence.

He opened his mouth "Because I was alright before returning to London. It has been two months since the season started and look at me" he snorted "I had a good smear of inspiration given by Aubrey Hall and its landscape. I come here and start talking to you again as we have done so for years but this time my inspiration fades away"

You frown, an honest confused frown "Bu-"

"Oh do not give me that face, Miss Ashbourne" he gulps "You are aware of what you have been doing, are you not?"

"If you say I am responsible for your inspiration fading away..." you blinked "I don't kn-"

"It faded, yes but only for it to move all over you" he whispered and looked into your eyes

You gasped, your breath suddenly short and your chest tight. The words inked deep now in your mind and heart.

"I am not joking, it is true" he scratched his chin "It is the most confusing thing ever because..." he snorted "I cannot stop thinking about your face or about you wholly and it is more confusing because I know I started seeing you in other colours since last season"

"But I was only-"

"Twenty years of age I know. A part of me tries to conceal that because I may be bold but not to that level yet I am honest and I had to tell you that"

You gulped.

"I often question my reason and told myself that we have not been together enough and that this.... in me" he touched his chest "Is just transitory"

You blinked at that, it is exactly what you have told yourself "I..." you said "I thought so too"

"Have you? And what conclusion did you arrive at?"

It was your time to talk so you clenched your legs and crossed your ankles trying to be straight as you said it "That..." you smiled "that there have been enough talks and enough walks and enough... secret readings for this to arise in us"

"Us?" he said "I was merely talking about me... do you mean you have felt it too?"

"Since last year" you whispered, your eyes fixated on him. His eyes widened.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it is improper, not that I have ever cared about that, but... as you said I was twenty"

"Right"

"I didn't want to believe it" you confessed "So I have been ignoring it"

"Did it work? Because my trials have failed if I could tell you what I have done, what I have thought"

For a second, or more than that, between your legs, you felt a tingling that made you gulp "What?"

"What?"

"What have you thought?" the question came too suddenly but by the look of it you could not retract it at all

"Things about you that should not be thought"

"What kind of things?" you insisted, the fire within you made you feel alive "Tell me"

Benedict touched his face and looked at you, you saw a hint of fear in his eyes as he opened his mouth

"Tell me" you insisted "If we have already confessed, what are the odds of doing it again?"

"A lot, Miss Ashbourne"

"I don't mind"

"Well" he laughed nervously "I..." he rapidly moved on the couch, he leaned to you, quite closely to your figure retracted on the corner of the couch "You must wash my mouth with soap after telling you this"

"I can take it, I assure you"

"I..." his lips opened, a soft and pinky pair of lips, you wondered if they would taste the same way his brandy did "I have seen you naked"

You frowned "Naked?

"In my mind, I have formed you. I have used what I know to construct that image. I..." he looked down at your white sleeping gown "I have seen your arms, the crease of your elbow and forearm. I have seen your neck and your shoulder blade and I remember when I saw your ankles once" he shrugged "Forgive me but as an artist, I must use any resources to form a muse"

"What else have you seen?" you asked in a whisper, you could smell the brandy out of your mouth too

"I have seen your chest, only the beautiful way the collarbone curves, and I have imagined the shape of your breasts... I have imagined the curves of your belly, your waist and hips and... your thighs and" he bit his lip as his eyes looked at your covered legs "and the rest"

Your mouth gaped and felt the air in the studio become thick and hot "Oh"

"Yes, forgive me"

"Don't" you whispered, the heat from your body becoming unbearable

"And..." he added, his face closer "I have used you in my mind with the purpose of-"

"Painting?" you asked

This time Benedict squinted his eyes and then stared at you "Not quite. It feels like a puzzle"

"How so?"

"I had it almost built with everything I know about you. I am sure I could write a book about your person and you won't know how I know those things yet I miss some pieces that I know I should be patient getting them" he slowly shook his head "And you?"

"Me?"

"Have you thought of me?"

"A little"

"More than a little?" he smiled

You were sure he was testing your level of knowledge. And indeed your level is high. You know the human male form if that is what he is asking. Have you thought of him in such state?

"I have wondered..." you murmured "What is about your lips that are always so... rosy?"

Benedict smiled "Do they look inviting?" he said leaning closer

For once you did not retract more into the couch, not that you could more. You took a breath and said "I don't know"

"Would you like to know?"

"Benedict"

"I am only asking"

"What else would you do if I said yes?"

"Taste yours in return"

Your lips parted and you were not able to speak. He was staring at you in a way that made your whole body tremble, the tingle in your belly becoming an actual throb between your legs.

"Miss Ashbourne"

"Mr. Bridgerton"

"Do I have to spell it out? I want to kiss you"

"Why?"

"Because I have been waiting a long time to do so"

"You said we are friends, friends don't kiss"

"Friends don't confess either but here we are" he moved a bit more, his lips only a few inches from yours "I need to know how is it that the world makes sense, how is it that I can have the inspiration that has left me in such a long time. Is it all the alcohol or is it you? You are the answer, right?"

"I don't know"

"Can I find out?"

"Please do"

The words made his heart flutter and the air became thick, his lips touched yours and it was like an electric shock. You felt the room spinning in darkness as you closed your eyes. You felt the softness of his lips against you and quite indeed the fruity lingering of brandy. It was the perfect mix of both. The kiss grew the opposite of chaste. The feeling was so overwhelming and you felt like Benedict was going to consume you and the most curious thing is that you were willing.

You felt his ample hand touching your back and pushing you against him and that made the kiss grow wild. You moved your head and let the passion guide the kiss. The world made sense like this and still, it made no sense at all.

"Y/N" he whispered between the kiss and moved to your cheek and kissed behind your ear

"What?"

"You have freckles here," he said and kissed your skin "Here" another kiss and another "and here. It is like admiring a masterpiece no one has ever left you get near before"

You grew impatient for how many words were coming from his mouth when he could have been kissing you more. You searched for his lips and found them in a latch that made him growl and move his tongue to play with yours. You were so lost in his kiss that the feeling in your stomach grew and grew and was about to explode.

Benedict's hands moved to the side of your hip and then the top of your thigh where he squeezed. A gentle moan escaped your lips, and he swallowed it.

"You are a dream," he said between kisses "A beautiful and vivid dream"

"And you are a madman"

"Perhaps," he said and pressed his lips to yours once more, the kiss was different, his lips moved to yours and it was as if he was trying to memorize every single spot. You felt your whole body reacting and it was becoming hard to breathe.

The feeling was so strong that it was unbearable. The tingling turned into a throb and it was making you lose control, your hands fought with your mind as if they needed to pull the skirt of your gown and touch yourself.

"You taste better than the finest whiskey," he said as his mouth moved to your neck. Your head fell back and gave him more access to your skin.

"Benedict" you whispered

"I love how you say my name. You always have so many things to say" he kissed deeply on your gentle skin "but now you only say my name"

How can this night end? So many scenarios ran through your mind but alas the wetness of his mouth made the rest disappear.

He pressed his body against you and his hand moved to your knee. A small moan escaped your lips and it made him look into your eyes.

"What is the matter?"

"N-nothing"

"It is something. Did I hurt you?"

"No"

"Then what?"

"I..."

"Y/N" he whispered

"I don't know how can this... be... grow more than a kiss"

He saw the innocence of your statement, of course, he could never compare you to the other women he has met. They knew with exactitude how this could "grow" and yet you, a different golden fruit in front of him were questioning whether a kiss is already what means intimacy.

"It can" he gulped seeing your shining eyes "It definitely can"

"How"

"I cannot show you now, my dear"

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust myself"

"But-"

"I want you, Y/N. Not only your mouth but all of you" he moved his hand and cupped your face "I cannot show you this tonight but if you will give me the chance, I promise I will do my best"

"To what?" your question carried a heavy responsibility in its meaning

"To..." he snorted "do something. I don't know" he laughed "Close that robe of yours and I shall accompany you to your house. You ought to sleep now"

"Impossible"

"Do your best" he kissed your forehead "Let's go"

The night was quiet, and as he held your hand and guided you through the back gardens of the other houses you kept yourself in silence. The soil under your slippers was not there you were sure. As if you were floating.

"Go on then," he said pointing at the backdoor "Be a good girl and sleep"

Suddenly the wetness you felt between your legs came back "Right... shall I see you tomorrow?"

He took your hand and placed a finger but he stole a very haste kiss from your lips. A grin on his face as you smiled inr return at the stolen kiss "You will"

"And the day after?"

"Of course"

"And the one after that"

"You are being too greedy but I'll say yes because it is you"

You nodded and turned the knob of the back door but a hand turned you gently away from it "Yes?"

Benedict stood there like a child. He was silent and then he softly smiled "Nothing, go on you, sneaky girl. Next time don't even bother bringing that poetry book. We won't need it"

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #smut #fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton x you #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #18+ only #18+ content #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton smut

[jackrabbit-fandom]

Boothill backstory spoilers, so if you dont wanna be spoiled scroll on

This is mostly comfort/fluff mabye tiny angst due to his backstory

Yes, it will include some relationship bits cause of course

Boothill, where his daughter survives, which, yes, i understand, would probably mean he doesn't become 'boothill', but let's pretend he does for the sake of the story. Also im goin with the name cherry for her cause i think its pretty cute

These kinda imply that it's been a few years between boothills' story and penacony

Mabye he was able to save her, and in the process, his body got damaged bad enough that he had to replace it. In this situation, it would be more so because he was hurt so badly he nearly died but didn't wanna leave his daughter.

He'd likely want to keep her as safe as possible but still ended up becoming a space ranger anyway due to sharing the ideologies, but for the first few years of her life, he likely ether stays out of trouble as much as possible or has a safe house for her when he absolutely can not take her with him. On the missions where he does carry her along when she's fairly young, he's just got her attached to a baby sling on his chest. Though i dont see that being extremely common, he doesn't want to risk even a 0.0000000001% chance of her getting hurt

Imagine being intimidated by this cyborg man with a baby sling....anyway

Once she gets older, she's more steady with her walking, she's talking in full sentences, and finally, tall enough to reach his hip, hed likely start teaching her to use a gun.

It's a very serious moment due to how important he thinks it is for her to be able to defend herself when he can't be around. Hed likely has a target set up as he knelt behind her, helping her hold it and aim.

'Keep your breathing steady, don't close both eyes it puts your aim off, keep your elbows loose, respect the gun but don't fear it'

He knows he's going to have to get to work getting his revenge for the rest of his family, so he can't keep coddling her so teaching her to use a gun, or disarm someone and fight hand to hand becomes his top priority. That's not to say he over works her or forces her when she's tired, that's still his little girl, so when she's tired from training he makes sure she gets plenty of rest.

As much as being prepared is important, being well rested and happy is too.

On to more domestic and sweet ones, i donno if he'd have his own ship or just have some safe house on some random planet, but either way coming home to seeing his little girl happy healthy and alive is probably his favorite part of the day, the big bad gunslinger persona immediately melts away and he goes straight into silly annoying dad mode.

This means he has a million dad jokes to make poor cherrys eyes roll out of her head. Though I'd imagine she'd end up just like him, funny phrases, stupid jokes, and a bit of an attitude.

Once she's plenty old enough, say around 16 or so, and wants to go out on more dangerous missions with her dad, i think she would follow the path of abundance. Shed likely wants to protect others like her dad does, plus it's pretty helpful when your father is a cowboy who runs around getting into trouble. It does help put boothill at ease as well, seeing as she can heal herself if she gets hurt....as if he'd ever let that happen.

I'd think that for a while, he's more focused on his daughter rather than finding a partner, however were he to meet you at some point when cherry was fairly young one thing that would likely make him interested is you acting kindly towards her and cooing over her. Showing positive interest in his daughter is a pretty good way to get on his good side. Doesn't quite mean he'll trust you just yet. it just means you're on good terms with him.

I feel like he'd have to trust you pretty well before he lets you watch his daughter. She is his pride and joy, and his one most important person in his life. he almost lost her, and he won't risk someone trying to take her from him again.

However, once cherry is older and can, for the most part, care for herself without her papa watching over her, then hed show more interest. If you were there sense she was young and helped him care for her, he likely already started liking you early on but just didn't make a mood due to focusing on her. Due to you being closer to her in this situation, i can imagine her calling you her mom/dad/parent, too. Extra brownie points!

I imagine cherry being, like i said, like her dad. A bit goofy at times with weird phrases and a slight attitude, and growing up with his censor shed likely copy that too, yelling out "fudge!" When she stubs her toe. I can see her having an interest towards guns sense it was something her papa introduced her to it but also music. Hed likely have taught her guitar by this point so shed probably make up her own little songs and sing them to him (and you once you join the little family) and no matter if their bad or good hes always just happy to hear her sing with the biggest smile on his face, and you best be too.

Oh, and of course, shed get her own cowboy hat, but choose to keep stealing his anyway.

Overall, if she had survived, i imagine him being mostly the same, just with a little girl following him around.

If you liked the fic, feel free to give me requests around this au. I just need this motherfudger to be happy, please.

Edit: @legalize-arson gave me the name idea. I do not like not crediting

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #boothill #boothill leaks #boothill honkai star rail #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #boothill is actually happy and not depressing as fuck #give him back his daughter hoyo

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Bloody

PART THREE: VIOLENT DELIGHTS

Part One // Part Two // Mini-Series Masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Bounty Hunter!Reader

WC: 4.9k words

Chapter Summary: The climax, in more than one sense of the word. Justice is finally served, and all the other pieces fall into place.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, THIS FIC IS 18+, canon typical violence, some descriptions of blood and gore, arson, drug use (chem called Buffout), implied mutual pining, smut, fingering, unprotected p in v (dont do it at home), radiated creampie (there’s RadAway dw lol), dirty talking, dom/sub dynamics, multiple orgasms, aaaaaaaaaand that’s all i can think about rn but lmk if i missed anything!

---------

Sounds in the middle of the night, a distant clamor that sharpened into voices as you regained consciousness. You sat up, disoriented and wide-eyed. The ghoul crouched nearby, immediately alert, hand on his holster.

“What’s–”

He put a finger to his lips, fixing you with a glare and a slight shake of his head. Dread immediately curdled in your stomach. Ever so slowly, you lifted yourself onto a crouch, grabbing your crossbow. 

Moonlight faintly filtered through a window caked with years of dirt and grime. The near complete darkness made the shadowed objects around the room morph into ominous, bulky shapes, exacerbating your fear. There was a momentary silence, in which both of you stayed still, listening.

The two of you had holed up for the night on the top floor of another dilapidated building. It sat on the outskirts of what used to be Shady Sands, a town that had been re-bombed years prior. The risk of running into trouble was much higher, as there was a lot more foot traffic. There was still plenty to scavenge, after all. 

And not only did you have to worry about mutants or raiders, but also knights of the Brotherhood of Steel. One of their bases was closer than you’d like, and you’d heard the rumble of their choppers in the distance while you skirted the enormous crater where the city once stood.

According to the ghoul, you were only a few days away from Axl’s main compound. Without either of you acknowledging it, you’d slowed down the pace. The moments of silent companionship stretched like lingering summer sunsets, and yet somehow, they were still not long enough. At times, you even felt the same way you’d felt at the outcrop, bordering on serene. 

It seemed surreal that your destiny was just within reach. Though you had been preparing for years, letting grief and rage carry you through even the toughest obstacle, you felt hesitancy for the first time. A part of you did not want to face the stark reality of it quite yet, not knowing how things would go down once you got to your destination.

 It wasn’t necessarily that you had a fear of death – you lived so closely with it that you didn’t flinch at its inevitability. Only at its abject cruelty; The way it striked indiscriminately, with disregard for those left behind. 

What you worried about was living through the whole ordeal and coming out the other side alone. The ghoul had no fealty to you, much less… attachment. You’d fooled around a couple more times throughout the journey, but it was all carnal pleasure – a lesson that your body was not just an instrument of brutality and survival. You’d let yourself become soft and pliable, like putty in his hands.

But that wasn’t to say he was tender, necessarily. There’d been no kisses between you – though you sought them in earnest – and he had not yet taken you, as he put it. His biting remarks weren’t nearly as sharp anymore, though, and you’d caught him being more protective of you. Not to mention, he always made sure you were never lacking RadAway.

For your part… You thought it was gentleness you felt, though you still couldn’t quite put a name to the way you were feeling. Perhaps just comfort was enough to describe it, interestingly enough. 

Barks of laughter sounded a little clearer, reminding you of the situation at hand. A few crashes followed, like things were being thrown about. It definitely sounded like they were inside the building, you realized with growing terror. How close were they? And how many of them?

“I should go give these visitors a warm welcome, don’tcha think?” the ghoul whispered, unholstering his gun. “It’s only polite.”

“Don’t you mean we?” You whispered back.

“No, y’ain’t comin’ with. I don’t need you getting in the way,” he said as he stood up. “Not many places to hide up here, so you best start lookin’.”

“You can’t just make m–” You started to protest, also standing up, but in two silent strides, he was right in front of you, holding your chin firmly.

For the briefest second, he seemed to be debating something. His eyes searched yours as if he would find the answer there. Another crash, most likely on the floor just below, and his lips thinned into a grim line as he made up his mind. 

“Listen…” he said, no time to waste. “The name’s Cooper. Holler it if you need help. Keep an eye out, but don’t let anyone see you.”

With that, he let go of you and slipped out of the room, not looking back once. You stood there for a moment, dumbstruck, his name rattling around your head like a pinball. 

But you had to shake yourself out of it, quickly scanning your surroundings for a place to hide. He’d been right about there not being many options, but you hadn’t realized there were virtually none at all in that room.

Except… there was a broken window on the far wall, and you avoided stepping on shards of glass as you made your way over. Right outside, there was a rusted fire escape, ladders leading up and down. 

You leaned out of the windowsill and looked up at the night sky, spotting the big and little dippers. It was lucky that the moon was almost full, not leaving you completely blind. You swung one leg over the windowsill and begged the stars – anything up there that could be listening – that the fire escape didn’t collapse under you.

It groaned slightly as you lowered yourself onto it, making you wince, but thankfully it was pretty sturdy. Still, you tried not to think too much about the height, stifling the vertigo that threatened to creep in. It was then that you heard yelling, accompanied by a barrage of gunshots. You felt a sharp pang of worry for Cooper, but you knew he could hold his own.

Out in the open, you were even less safe, but while you couldn’t really see anyone down below, you knew better than to descend. So, you used the more precarious ladder to ascend instead. Muscles tense as it shook and rattled, your palms sweating, but it held your weight. 

Breathlessly hauling yourself onto the rooftop, you first made sure you were alone before lying on your stomach near the edge, crossbow ready. The scuffle continued below, and you hoped all the noise didn’t attract even more unwanted guests. 

Time seemed to take a liquid form as you waited, slipping through your grasp unnoticed, your focus on the unrelenting night. The animal instinct to survive had kicked in, blocking out your fear and slowing your heartbeat down. 

Your father’s patient voice was at the back of your head. “Remember, when it comes down to it, calm and focus is what it takes. You’re more likely to make a mistake otherwise, a deadly one.”

Suddenly, a whistle rang out – a high note shortening into a low one. You didn’t move at first, but then you adjusted your position slightly to try and get a better look at the source. A head poked out of the broken window below, and your finger was instantly on the trigger.

Cooper raised his hands in mock surrender, an amused, sly grin on his face. Your muscles immediately relaxed as you exhaled the breath you’d been holding.

“Jus’ me, cowpoke,” he drawled. “It’s clear now. Get your ass down here before I come get you.” 

You found yourself smiling with relief as you put your weapon away, climbing down the ladder with less care than when you were going up. You stumbled into him as you dropped back onto the fire escape, losing your balance. 

“Woah, easy there,” he said, steadying you but keeping you close. “Y’really missed me that much, darlin’? I was only gone for an hour.”

You shoved away from him, rolling your eyes. You noticed he was splattered with blood, some having transferred onto your clothes. None of it seemed to belong to him, though, which was another small relief. 

“How many?” You asked, deflecting his question. 

“Too many for my likin’, and y’know I like myself a crowd,” he said. “Most of ‘em had Axl’s brand, others seemed like newbies. Fuckin’ amateurs, all of ‘em.”

You swallowed with bitter distaste as you heard that name. Surely the death of a group of his men wouldn’t go unnoticed, so that meant you had less time to make a move. The two of you had discussed some plans of attack, but you hadn’t chosen any course of action yet.

You thought of the bottles of Buffout you’d scored in Filly, unbeknownst to him. You’d gotten them as a last resort, not stupid enough to believe the two of you would be able to take on a whole compound of raiders just as you were.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “What now?”

“We loot ‘em, and then we get a move on as soon as dawn comes.”

“No rest for the wicked,” you sighed, even if you were no longer tired.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he chuckled. “But you were a good girl tonight, listenin’ to my orders.”

You bit down a grin and climbed in through the window so he couldn’t see the flustered look on your face. He checked the hallway as you gathered the rest of your stuff, and then you followed him out of the room, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest.

“Cooper?” You whispered, barely wanting to disturb the silence. “Thank you, again.”

Silence hung for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond at all. 

“That’s twice now,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Don’t think I’ll forget your debt after all this.”

That warmth exploded into fireworks and oh, you knew you were doomed either way.

—-----------------------------------

The compound was larger than you’d imagined, visible from a great distance. As soon as you’d crested the hill, you’d felt like a stone dropped into your stomach. The sun had set an hour ago, so the cover of darkness was to your advantage. No turning back now. 

But before Cooper could take another step forward, you grasped his arm without thinking. He frowned as he looked down at your hand, then up at your face.

“Y’ain’t havin’ second thoughts, are ya?” He asked. “Little too late for that nonsense.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that, it’s just… maybe we need to reassess our strategy before we do anything hasty. I could use some more rest, too and–”

“Quit it,” he snapped. “What’s the matter with you? You anxious?”

How could I not be? You thought to yourself. You were braced for a fight, itching for it, even. It had made sleeping impossible the previous nights, no matter how much Cooper had tried to force you to rest. The constellations in the sky seemed to brighten the closer you got to the compound; Guiding the way, granting you strength.

But you wanted one more moment with him, just as you were then. So you gave into foolishness, pulling him in as you stood on your tiptoes to bring your lips to his. He flinched, surprised, gripping you in return. You were ready for him to shove you away, but when he didn’t, you placed a hand on his chest.

His lips were chapped, but not unpleasant. Warm, too, and set firmly at the first delicate brush of your lips. You heard a grunt low in his throat as he felt the tip of your tongue swiping at his bottom lip, coaxing, and it was then he snapped out of his shock. 

The way he kissed you was rough and hungry, with a certain desperation you knew he would never admit out loud. Your tongues tangled, exploring each other’s mouths – though, truly, his was dominating yours. He gripped your hair, keeping you from escaping, even if it was the last thing you wanted to do.

But before you could get too deep into the kiss – reaching another point of no return – he pulled back, searching your face. Felt fire in his loins as he saw the glazed look of desire in your eyes, but he had to bat it away for the time being.

“Should’ve jus’ said you were needy,” he murmured. “But then again, you always are.”

A faint smile at his teasing, but he noticed the turmoil beneath. “Cooper...”

He let go of you, sobering up and slipping back into his usual prickly demeanor. The times called for it after all; He knew you needed that strength, too. He cleared his throat and glanced back at the compound, trying to think. An idea suddenly came to mind, and he couldn’t help a lopsided grin.

“I say we burn the whole place to the ground,”  he said, tilting his head towards it. “And when they’re runnin’ around like chickens with their heads cut off, I’ll carve you a path towards him in the chaos.”

You froze, eyes widening, momentarily unsure of what to say. “I thought you said you had business with him, too.”

He shrugged, looking away. “You’ll settle the score for the both of us.”

The enormity of this statement — this unspoken gift — rocked you to your core, making you take an involuntary step forward. You thought to reach out to take his gloved hand, a rare sob clogging your throat, but you knew it would ruin the moment. 

You would find a way to thank him later, when all was said and done. 

—————————————

It was both fortunate and unfortunate that the raiders had stocked up on so much fuel. To them, it was most likely a precious commodity. To you, well… It was merely a means to an end — A conveniently deadly one. 

In the darkest hour of night, Cooper had slipped into the encampment, silent as a shadow. You decided to knock back some Buffout and wait for the mayhem to start. He’d told you to stay hidden until the fire had really taken, but you were already bouncing around impatiently, starting to feel the effects of the chem.

The sharp tang of the fuel reached you in the breeze, and you clasped the handle of his machete with a white knuckled grip. Though you had weapons, he’d insisted you carry it, just in case. It brought you some comfort to have it, as if it was an extension of him.

In the distance, there was the sound of a small explosion. You jumped, but didn’t make a move yet. Those within the encampment started to rise, their voices confused and alert. Every single one of your muscles were poised to run, your senses screaming at you to spring forward. Pupils fully dilated, mind sharper than ever. You briefly wondered if that was how prey drive must feel. Buffout’s no fucking joke.

Instead, you slowly skirted the perimeter, keeping to the shadows. The voices raised and beneath them, there was the dragging hiss of fire igniting, catching hold of everything in its path. 

Another explosion, this one much closer, if the subtly trembling earth was any indication. And so commenced the cacophony of chaos, though there was one word among the screams that you were able to distinguish – Ghoul!

The fire was rapidly spreading, so much so that you could feel its incandescent heat, sweat beading all over your face. Show time. You sprang up from your haunches and scurried to the nearest opening.

Things were blurry from then on. You had more than a few close brushes with certain death, but every time, without fail,  a whizzing bullet would be your salvation. But that wasn’t to say your machete went unused, blood spattering you like a warrior’s anointing. 

Axl’s main quarters were, unsurprisingly, harder to break into. Cooper took care of it, disposing of the raiders that were guarding their leader. The room was cramped with all sorts of loot, including hundreds of caps, perhaps more. Weapons, as well, and not to mention an assortment of Chems.

Axl himself was a large man with long, wild hair that was streaked with grey. He was wearing armor made of scraps and he was riddled with scars, one of his eyes missing. The one remaining glared at the two of you – just as mean mugged as you remembered – but he only seemed to recognize Cooper. 

“Surprised to see me?” Cooper said, grinning easily. “Suppose you were so cocksure I wouldn’t discover your ruse, sendin’ me on that wild goose chase.”

“It was a perfectly valid bounty, guess you just didn’t read the fine print.” Axl smiled cruelly in return, his eye returning to you as you took a step forward, teeth bared. “Who’s this bitch? Your guard dog?”

In the next moment, his knee exploded in a spray of blood and gore as Cooper shot him, ripping an agonized howl from his throat as he collapsed.

“Since nobody taught you any fuckin’ manners, I thought I might as well do it,” Cooper said, trying to sound bored despite the rage in his tone. 

“You stupid motherfucker! I’m gonna … Kill you for this!” Axl managed to growl, writhing on the floor in torment, pathetically trying to drag himself towards any nearby weapon.

Cooper ignored the threats and nodded towards you. “All yours, cowpoke. Best hurry now, fire’s still spreadin’.”

You held his gaze, hoping your eyes could communicate all you wanted to say. Things took a dreamlike quality, time narrowing down to that very moment. You nodded back, and there was the ghost of a smile on his face. You drifted forward, the past and the present intermingling in your mind. 

The memory of your father’s laughter. Years of adventures and survival and the foolish belief that you would always have each other. The startled look on his face as the bullet went straight through his jugular. How he’d pushed you to safety right before his body slumped over. The glimpse of his killer’s face, which had branded itself in your mind. 

Now, you had it in front of you once more, right where you wanted it. And not a hint of doubt clouded your mind.

You raised the machete over your head–

“This is for my father, you son of a bitch.”

– And swung it down in a swift, deadly arc.

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

You weren’t sure how you were walking, but you knew you needed to get a safe distance away from the burning encampment. Cooper held you to him as you trembled all over, adrenaline leaving your system in hot and cold waves.

“There, there, you’re alright,” he soothed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’ll stop soon, I promise. Come down’s a bitch on that one, ain’t it?”

You nodded, having confessed to the Buffout earlier, cold sweat running down your back. “I feel like I need to sleep for a thousand years.” 

He chuckled. “I’ll give you a night, sweetheart. Maybe a couple, If I’m feelin’ generous. I ain’t done with you yet, remember?”

You peered up at him, one corner of your lips curling up in a smirk. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he confirmed. “Matter of fact, I think it’ll take you those thousand years to repay all your debts.”

“I can start tonight.”

“Easy there, cowgirl. If I were you, I’d use my time wisely and rest,” he said pointedly. “You know I don’t play around.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, Cooper. I’m still feeling pretty restless,” You said, lying through your teeth. Exhaustion ran deep, but that wouldn’t stop you from seeking him, eager to become soft once more. At his mercy. 

He hummed in thought, eyes flicking down to you, nonchalant. “Guess I might just have to put you to sleep, huh?”

You grinned, biting your lip and pressing yourself closer to his side. You found a small, rundown shack to hole up in, and he poked his head in to make sure there were no rad roaches or mole rats. 

There was barely enough space for the two of you, but you didn’t mind. He threw his coat on the floor and you set your stuff down before he was cornering  you. He tugged off his gloves, tossing them aside. 

“First thing’s first, gotta get you out of these filthy clothes,” he husked, hands settling on your hips, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.

He undressed you methodically, enjoying the slowness of it. Revealing more and more of that soft skin he loved to touch, and peeling away the brutality of the night. A hum of appreciation as his hands began to roam, tugging you closer and lowering you onto his coat in an all too familiar way. 

“Much better,” he murmured, feasting his eyes and making sure you were unharmed in equal measure. 

A few scrapes and bruises, but you’d live. He’d done a good job, all things considered. He let out a low, appreciative whistle, barely able to keep his hands to myself.

Your eyes were shiny with want as you looked up at him, lips parted, body taut with anticipation; Shuddering for an entirely different reason. His nails trailed up your thigh as he leaned forward, hovering over you.

“Well, ain’t you the gift that jus’ keeps on givin’?” he rasped, kissing a spot on your jaw just beneath your ear. “All mine to unwrap and play with.”

You nodded, moving your face so his lips would meet yours. But he held back with a tsk.

“Say it f’me, darlin’.”

“All yours,” you sighed, a teasing smile on your lips. “For the next a thousand years or so.”

“That so?” His hand came up to grasp your face. “We’ll see about that.”

He kissed you then, tongue invading your mouth, licking your upper lip in a way that had you whimpering. It was lazy and indulgent, his free hand slowly trailing down your front. 

The same hands that had caused so much destruction now coaxing a fire of a different kind. The night’s events were banished to the periphery of your mind, a languid haze taking over. 

And then his fingers reached their target, and he moaned into your mouth as he parted your slick folds and discovered just how wet you were. Unfurling like a flower at his touch, chest heaving, arching against his hand.

You keened as he plunged two fingers inside you, the pad of his thumb pressing against your clit. Drawing circles in that teasing way he knew would have you bucking under him.

“That’s it, nice and slow,” he husked, pulling back to look at your face. “Make those pretty sounds for me.”

It was hard to hold his gaze — much less focus — as he deftly managed to pump his fingers and move his thumb. Your brain nearly short circuited as he found a rhythm that had you dangerously close to the edge… but also left you craving more.

“Fuck,” you gasped, clutching the wrist of the hand that held your face, if only to anchor yourself to something. 

His grin was roguish. “Yeah? Gonna give me one like this?” 

You tried your best to keep it at bay, wanting to save it for the melding of your bodies, but he could feel the flutter around his fingers. 

“Please, I-I want your cock…” you pleaded. “I need you inside me.”

A soft chuckle to conceal the low groan in his throat, the hunger growing within him. 

“In time,” he said. “Nobody said anythin’ about you only cumming once, honey.”

With that, his fingers doubled their effort. Your back arched off the ground as you felt pleasure quickly building inside of you — a dam ready to burst. 

A choked sound left you as you tumbled over the edge without warning. Muscles clenching as you felt the orgasm rippling outward, blissfully emptying your mind of anything else.

“There’s a good girl,” he praised, feeling the tight squeeze of your cunt around his fingers, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “See? I knew you could give it to me.”

Your head swam as his hands withdrew. You heard the soft rasp of his zipper being undone and the clink of his belt. Eager, you looked down as he nudged your thighs further apart with his knee, slotting his body between them.

The slick, flushed head of his cock encircled by his fist, pumping himself — large and hard and textured just like the rest of him. He let spit fall from his mouth onto your clit, spreading it with the shaft of his cock as he rutted against you. 

Your legs jerked a little with the stimulation against your still puffy clit, but needy whines still poured from your lips like the sweetest melody to his ears.

You knew better than to tell him not to tease you, instead hitching your hips to meet his movements. He growled, barely able to hold back by that point. You softly sighed as your knees pressed against his sides.  The head notched at your entrance and he pushed inside, thrusting shallowly to open you up further as he reached halfway. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re tight,” he rasped as you clutched his arms. “Greedy cunt can’t help squeezing me, huh?”

Before you could even try to respond, his hips snapped a little more roughly, finally burying himself to the hilt. A shared exhale as he bottomed out, fully stretching you. 

“C-Cooper,” you breathed. “Fuck, please, keep going.”

“I’ll take care of ya, don’t you worry,” he said, voice ragged.

He grasped your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling back only to slam forward again. Tugging you to meet his thrusts – long and deep – and you submitted amiably. Soon, the room was filled with the obscene, slapping sound of your bodies joining. Your moans spiraling in a hypnotic repetition, your eyes heavy-lidded as you lifted your head to get a better look of him driving into you.

“Takin’ me so well,” he groaned. “Pretty lil pussy made just for me.”

Your ankles pressed against his lower back, urging him on, not wanting to separate from him for even a moment. Sweat dotting your brow and stray tears of overstimulation on your lash line. You were everything worth adoring, in his eyes. 

One hand reached up to paw at your breasts, which he’d been watching bounce with each one of his thrusts. Pinching the nipples between his fingers, drawing a small yelp from you, but feeling you clamp down on him at the mix of pleasure and pain.

“O-oh, I’m s-so close… Cooper,” You gasped, and he felt your legs start to tremble. 

“Go on, sweetheart, give it to me,” he urged, pushing your legs further up and adjusting his angle. “Wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

Somehow, he felt much deeper that way, pounding at your cervix in a way that had you practically yowling. A momentary dizziness as if you were teetering at a great height… and the second orgasm hit you ruthlessly, forever ruining you for anybody else that wasn’t him. 

He let out a long, rough groan, and heat flooded inside of you as he also came. He fucked you through it, hips stuttering as he emptied out. 

In the come down, you were both panting hard, drunk on endorphins. All energy sapped out of you, lying boneless on top of his coat. He chuckled at the sight of you, something dangerously close to fondness in his amber eyes.

“Little late to ask if you got protection, huh?”

“You know I keep that RadAway on me,” you rasped, smiling weakly. 

“Atta girl. And speaking of,” he murmured, pulling out of you and leaving you achingly empty.

Your vision swam as you watched him tuck himself away, making his way towards his pack. But by the time he found the distinct yellow IV bag, you were slipping into the best sleep you’d ever had. 

—————————————

It was well past morning by the time you woke up. The sun was high, and you felt its heat wafting in through the doorway. Cooper wasn’t around, but you were relieved to see his things were still there.

You noticed he’d cleaned you up to the best of his ability, but you were still naked. You winced as you sat up, stretching your arms over your head. Slowly, you stood up and gathered your clothes from around the small room. 

Still, despite all the aches, you felt as if a huge burden had been lifted off your shoulders. The pain of remembering had turned into a dull throb which would take more time to fully heal. At least now you could focus on the good memories, no longer haunted by the need for justice. 

Freedom was at your fingertips – to choose, to live. Even the sky seemed a little bluer that day.

As you finished getting dressed, you heard the clink of spurs growing closer, his figure hovering in the doorway. 

“How’s my little killer?” Cooper said, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest.

“Like I’ve been run over,” you said, grinning. “But good, otherwise.”

“Good. It’s about time we get up outta here. I let you rest more than enough.”

A flutter in your chest at the word we, reminding you that perhaps your freedom would be partial, but you didn’t mind as long as it was in his company. 

“Right, where to next?” You asked, hauling your pack onto your back. 

He shrugged, sly smile tugging at one corner of his lips. “The world is our oyster, darlin’. We can go wherever we damn please.”

You mirrored his smile, thinking that underneath that tough, seemingly unbreakable exterior,  he just might be feeling the same way about you. “Lead the way, then.”

-----

The End.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul smut #the ghoul fanfiction #fallout smut #fallout fanfiction #minors dni #cooper howard #the ghoul #monster tag

[disneyprincemuke]

okay, can we go now?

you blink and take a couple of breaths to steady yourself. mick stares back at you curiously as he awaits your response. instead, you turn away and drop your head in shame. “okay, can we go now?”

you stand up from your side of the bench and take small steps towards the parking lot where you’d parked your car. your hands shake as you walk, feeling his stare on your back and practically hearing the questions he wants to ask.

“where are you going?” he asks. he assumed the you would turn back but you just carry forward. “i know you heard what i said.”

“i don’t think we should be doing this right now, mick,” you say softly.

you hear his heavy footsteps following you, desperate to get a hold of you. “why not? i’m telling you how i feel.”

“because i am your ex-girlfriend!” you shriek, stopping right in your tracks. you turn around and huff in frustration.

how is he not getting it? it’s simple — you’re his ex-girlfriend. it doesn’t get any simpler than that. in fact, you’re not even sure why you’re here in the front porch of some house party you’d both gotten invited to.

you’d caught his eye in the heart of the party you’d both been invited to. instinctively, you followed him out into the front porch when you saw him leaving the dark room.

you didn’t know what to say to him when he turned and greeted you with a small smile. your breakup understandably left both of you heartbroken but sometimes it feels like it hit you more than it hit him.

and you just missed him. but you know why it wouldn’t work even if you tried your hardest — you’d just end up where you started over and over again.

it’s just not meant to be.

“do you not remember how crazy we drove each other?” you point out, rolling your eyes. “mick, i miss you too, but we need to face that fact that we’re not right for each other. we’re going to die forcing to fit the puzzle pieces.”

“why does that matter? it will have to work out somehow,” mick scoffs, taking a step toward you. “because it has to — because i miss you.”

you sigh and drop your hands to your sides. you purse your lips together as you feel another sob arising in your chest. “we’re going to hate each other if we keep doing this. how many times have we found ourselves here? too many to count.”

the on and off again relationship cycle has to stop at some point, you realised some time last week as you sat in the shower mourning your relationship. 2 years is way longer than either of you should have dragged it on for.

but there’s always something about the glint in his eyes that always seem to draw you in.

and right now right here, in some random suburban street, you feel yourself being reeled in the longer you look up at him. you miss the way he holds you and waking up next to him in the morning. the breakfasts he would make you and the cup of coffee that would always greet you without fail.

“this has to be the one time we get it right.” he carefully wraps his hand around your wrist and sighs, his breath fanning over your bare chest. “this has to be the one.”

and you almost fold but you can’t help but remember how you left his apartment in tears. this time, you wiped his apartment clean of all your things after swearing that it was the last time you’d let yourself cry over him. the box of pictures with him still sits hidden in the trunk of your car, collecting dust and nearly making it into your apartment.

yet, even months following your breakup, it still stays in hiding. always almost making it into your apartment for safe keeping but you always make a u-turn for your car to throw it back in.

“we said the last time was the last time we do this,” you whisper shakily. “we always swear we’ll get it right and we never do…”

mick knows that. he remembers watching you helplessly pack your things and leave his apartment in tears, no longer listening to a word he’s saying to try and make you stay. but he just has a gut feeling that this time, it would work. you would somehow find a way to make it last this time.

it shouldn’t always have to end in both of you on the floor in a sputtering mess.

“just one more time.”

“i can’t do this with you anymore, mick.” you look down at where his hand wraps around you. you carefully tear his grip from you and try to ignore the way his hand tries to chase for you. you put your hands behind your back and take a step back. “i miss you too, but we can’t keep doing this, i’m sorry.”

you turn away again and continue your way to where your car is parked. but mick persists, following you once more. “just stay. let’s talk about it.”

“i feel like there’s not much to talk about at this point. you tell me you can live with my habits and then 2 months later we’re tearing one another down in irritation. let’s stop.”

you want oh so badly to stop where you are and ultimately find yourself in his apartment again somehow. you want to go against all intuition and get in his car and wake up next to him in his bed.

just like old times when everything was just right between you. you love that way he loves you but you can’t keep living counting the days of your relationship.

“but–”

“give it up,” you wave him off and stop right where your car is. you lift your head and throw him a sad smile. “we need to move on, mick. i don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

@33-81 @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification @c-losur3 @sakuramxchii @kissesandmartini

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke isily

[tiredsurvivoronmain]

When they were talking about Wesker, I can't help but when he said this to Jill (when she said it was like living in a nightmare being controlled), I think he was also talking about himself when he said this.

He had only just opened up to her about Piers (apparently the first time he's told her about him years after his death), and it almost felt as if he was confessing his guilt/loss and that he had planned on retiring, Piers being the one to take over from him. He looked vulnerable telling her, the way he held the water bottle with both hands as if he needed something to hold and ground him, like it took real effort to open up (he's still affected by Piers' death). When it came to Wesker, him 'opening up' carried over and he may have confessed how he felt about Wesker still being in his mind, memories and nightmares. It could have also been Piers he was having nightmares about and he struggled to come to terms with the loss. Not necessarily in a romantic sense but it's obvious losing Piers hit him hard. However his relationship/rivalry with Wesker was longer and more intense, it would make sense that he'd still feel that connection to him like an old scar that won't fade and gives him pain. He also uses replicas/weapons that were Wesker's, if he wanted to be done with Wesker, why use them at all? Would he have not had other alternative weapons to choose from? Wesker's dead (as far as he's concerned) yet he still has that connection to him. If he was the one who commissioned the series of weapons or was the one to name them after Wesker... Did he do it to honour his memory? Or that he wanted something of Wesker or that connection with him to stay? And what would Jill have thought of it? Chris using replica weapons of the man that controlled her and made her live a nightmare? "And if you're not careful, it'll swallow you up." Perhaps he said that because that's what has happened to him, that the nightmares of Wesker have consumed him or had at one point consumed him.

The why he looked and acted empty after killing Wesker, you'd think he'd be happy or relieved it was over like the others were. Maybe he was at first but after a while the emptiness began to settle; he trained for so long to fight Wesker, he had a purpose and a goal. When Wesker was gone it left a void that needed to be filled. But something that had such an impact and influence on his life would have left him feeling empty. In a way, he killed part of his identity that day.

Then there's this scene in RE6

WHY was Chris prepared to die because he killed Wesker? As if he felt guilty or regretted it? He didn't know Jake personally, he didn't try to defend his actions or explain that Wesker was trying to destroy the world. Yet he willingly confessed and felt he deserved to be shot for killing him.

It took Chris a strangely long time to answer, why did he have to even think it over? He wanted to take Wesker down for personal reasons and because he was ordered to, it should have been a quick and obvious answer. My guess is that he was having flashbacks to Wesker, possibly his final moments. The way he sounded when he answered was as if he had no choice but to kill Wesker, that it wasn't for the same personal reasons he had before. He had to kill him in the same way of putting down a rabid dog, to protect people and to put it out of it's misery/pain. "I had to, he wouldn't stop. He was beyond saving."

Whether he felt actual guilt/regret for killing Wesker or it was merely a very dangerous tactic to get through to Jake, it's hard to say.

Ironically, there have been many occasions Wesker has aimed a gun at Chris and never fired, not even to miss for plot or as a warning. Jake, his son, did what Wesker couldn't in his 10 years of rivalry with Chris.

And of course, this scene in the RE1 remaster.

I've talked about this in another post but long story short, he still cared about Wesker despite being betrayed by him, that just moments ago shot Rebecca. Chris laughed and mocked him seconds before and was held at gun point, but the moment Wesker got attacked he immediately tried to help/save him. He cared.

And he still did, even after his death. Using Wesker weapon replicas, protecting and defending his son, possibly still having Wesker's STARS knife from the events of Code Veronica...he needs to have something of Wesker to be part of him. Whatever his reasons, despite all the pain, anger and hatred, he refuses to let him go and let the past be buried. He is both haunted and embracing the ghost of Wesker. The longer the absence of Wesker goes on, the more Chris is changing. Deep down he may have been hoping, wanting, Wesker to come back. 10 years pass and there's still no sign of him, the realisation turning into grief and regret. Wesker gave Chris purpose (just like how Chris gave Wesker purpose), now that purpose was gone, things just aren't the same anymore and there's nothing he can do to get him back. Wesker may have been right after all; their fates really are forever intertwined.

#chrisker #chris redfield #wesker #albert wesker #analysis and theories #long post

[quodekash]

FUUUUUUUUUUUCKing hell theyre gonna kiss today????

hes so grumpy already I love this so much

the silent conversations chain and toey are having with their eyes oml I cant

pls this is so funny

theyre both deeply in love with someone else so it's jsut so unnatural to them

BUT ALSO id like to mention that the first thing chain did when he had to pretend to be hitting on toey was put his arm around his shoulders and rest his hand there. which is what he's literally ALWAYS doing with pun, no matter when it is, he's always standing next to pun with his hand resting on one of his shoulders

its like he associates his time with pun as being in a romantic relationship 👀

THESE FUCKIN BASTARDS 😭

JUST KISS IM BEGGING YOU

theyre lost in their own little world 🥺

kiIIIIIS

this is too funny, the cuts from "chain. chain what happened next." to ✨soulful dramatic guitar music✨

im sad they didnt actually kiss but also im not surprised

LOOK AT THEM, DUDE

THEYRE SO NATURAL WITH EACH OTHER

I FUCKIN LOVE FRIENDS TO LOVERS SO SO MUCH

half convinced theyre already dating, they just cant be bothered saying anything so theyre waiting for others to ask them about it

PUN IS SO CUTE DUDE I ADORE HIM HES FUCKING ADORABLE

I LOVE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH THEYRE SOIMPORTANT TO ME

if I ever have a romantic partner, this is what I want

I cant explain it, I just wanna run up to them with pure joy and excitement, and for them to hold me back by just pushing against my skull

it just seems perfect, idk why

GB4JHERGB

THE FRIENDSHIP OF ALL TIME

genuinely think I might be more invested in their friendship than all the romantic relationships in this show

im fucking CRYING

my king matt, this was so unnecessary and I love everything about it

why does it suit him so well tho

they should kiss again I think

I feel everything about this image on a spiritual level

THIS ENTIRE AMUSEMENT PARK SEQUENCE BRINGS ME SO MUCH JOY AND DOPAMINE IM IN LOVE WITH THSI EPUSODE

NEW COMFORT EPISODE UNLOCKED

look its really funny but I do feel bad cos this day is not even a little bit fun for him

like q is having a complete shit time

poor chain doesn't love amusement parks but he has to go on the rides with toey to keep up the facade cos toey loves these rides 😭

and its even worse realising Q also seems to love amusement parks, so he would be having a fucking amazing time if he could just go on all the rides next to Q cos they both love it so much 😭😭

fuckin FINALLY

LMAO WHAT

THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY I JUST SCREECHED WITH LAUGHTER SO LOUD AND ITS MIDNIGHT

THE PURE COMICAL SHOCK AS HE REALISDE WHAT HE SAID, THE EXCITEMENT FROM EVERYONE ELSE AS THEYR EALISE WHAT HE SAID

I mean to be fair it was REALLY obvious

im surprised no one noticed earlier but also its a bl so im not at all surprised to find out theyre all fuckin dumbasses

SERIOUSLY THO TANFANG IS WHAT I WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP HOLY SHIT

a lot of the time watching bls ill be like "I want that" but its usually as a joke

but THIS?? the fucking adhd bastard (me) who just wants to be near their partner and compliment and always stimming and just having a swell fucking time while the other one loves them but is mildly tired but also in adoration? FUCKIN GIMME

also how the fuck has Q not realised, theyre all so fucking obvious

also also I cant explain it it just feels deeply as though pun and chain are for real dating they just havent told anyone yet

ill make a post about it all at some point maybe (I definitely wont)

PHYSICAL TOUCH IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE 😭😭😭

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH HE DOESNT HAVE TO HOLD HIM SECRETLY ANYMORE THEY CAN JUST WALK HAND IN ARM NATURALLY NOW

hear me out tho, this gets even funnier if he's actually already in a committed relationship that no one knows about yet

I dont think it's secret dating, it's just 'not super obvious dating to try and see JUST how oblivious all our friends are. its been three years at this point and still no one's said anything. we're starting to lose all hope.'

I love tan so much, the little wave

what the FUCK

what the FUCK FUCK???

THE SOUNDWIN LINE????

HERE IT IS ITS FUCKIN COMIN GUYS

HE SAID IT

HE FUCKIN SAID IT

[insert that gif of the crowd of people in the bar going insane]

holy fucking shit dude holy fucking shit

my legs are literally shaking idk if I can do this

FUCK TO THE YES, FUCKING EXPLICIT ASK FOR CONSENT HOLY FUCKING SHIT

WHAT THE FUCK

AND THE FUCKING SONG IN THE BACKGROUND !!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT DUDE

im gonna be here all day

I dont even need to watch the rest of the episode now

I can just go to bed if I want and watch the rest later or smth

dude I cant wait for q to realise that toey is milk frappe guy

HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT JUST PROCESSED IN MY MIND THAT THEY KISSED

WHAT THE FUCK

omg making out in a haunted house, what a dream

the workers watching on the security cameras probably had a blast that day

how funny would it be if there'd been a scare actor in the shadows in that room with them and they'd been about to scare them but they were too shocked with that tender kiss to remember they have a job

he needs to lie on his bed and just stare at his roof and think about that for a while

tbh same

look at him 🥺 he's so lost in that memory

thEY FUCKIN MADE OUT HOLY FUCK

welp on that note I think im done for now

I might finish the ep with my silly thoughts+screenshots later but for now tis the time for sleep

#quodekash's side couple syndrome boss fight #we are series #cant wait for that song to come out on Spotify and I can listen to it on repeat for several days #qtoey #winnysatang #satang kittiphop #winny thanawin #tanfang #aouboom #marcpoon #chainpun #aou thanaboon #boom tharatorn #marc natarit #poon mitpakdee #we are the series

[tunaababee]

we will be everything we say - Chapter 6

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 3.5k // updates Mondays (aest)

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: TW for mentions of parental death and abusive behaviours. if you're unable to handle that right now and would like a chapter summary, head to AO3 and look at the chapter's end notes! please look after yourself.

Chapter 6: twenty-three and twenty-four

Tension lingered in the air like a heavy fog, accompanying the grey clouds overhead that helped set the incredibly morose atmosphere. It was fitting, considering what was happening today.

Feyre sat with her sisters, side by side, in the front row of the funeral home. It was a small, simple service - their father had never been a very outgoing man, and it had only gotten worse after their mother had died. Elain had been the one to handle all of the correspondence with the florist, a blend of tulips, carnations, and baby’s breath all stark white in large bunches over the casket. Elain barely looked like herself, with the long-sleeved black dress seeming to drain her of life so much so that she seemed to rival the lifeless body of their father in the coffin at the front of the room. It didn’t help that Elain probably took his passing the hardest. Nesta, on the other hand, looked like she was in her element. Cold, sharp, all angles and precision. Her outfit looked like she was ready to go to a board meeting or an interview, all practicality and projecting that strong visage she held so deeply on to. Both sisters knew there were a lot of complicated feelings towards their father that were simmering just barely underneath the surface of that tailored coat and her a-line skirt, but nobody dared speak it. They just wanted to get through today and put it behind them. The three of them could unpack their own baggage at a later date.

Today Feyre was nervous for a couple of reasons - she’d never been very good at public speaking, and yet she was the one who was giving the eulogy. She heard the funeral officiant say her name, rising from her seat and moving to the front of the room like a ghost of herself, hands shaking slightly. Her hands smoothed out her dress anxiously, fingers moving to fiddle with the oversized sleeves of her long cardigan before she gripped the cistern. Her eulogy was true, but simple - he was a caring husband, a father who loved his daughters, a man who never quite recovered from his demons. The details of what she wrote were merely a haze in her mind as she read it off of the paper she had prepared. But that wasn’t the main reason she was nervous.

What really made her nervous today was the pair of piercing violet eyes looking straight at her from the very back of the room, feeling as if they were piercing her right in the gut.

He had shown up. She had been the one to invite him, after all, but she’d be lying if she said a part of her hadn’t wanted him to come simply to avoid having to talk to him at all. How do you pick back up where you left off with your best friend when you hadn’t talked to them in two years?

She already had to pace the apartment for an hour or so as she tried to send the text to him in the first place to let him know, to get the wording and the tone right, to hope to every god known to man that he still had the same number. To hope that he would come at all. She kept it clinical, at the end of the day.

“Hi there, Rhysand. I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to let you know that my dad passed away a few days ago.

The funeral is next week to the day at 11:00am if you’d like to attend and pay your respects. Prythian Funeral Home.

I hope you’re well.”

It was anxiety-inducing enough to have sent the text in the first place that she hadn’t even bothered to see if Rhys had replied. Instead, Feyre threw herself into funeral preparations - inviting all of her and her sisters’ close friends who had known him and any of his previous business associates he had left. It didn’t fill the room, but it made it feel less pathetic than just the three of them, and that’s all that mattered to them.

The whole time Feyre was up there, it was a pointed effort not to meet Rhys’ eyes. If she did, she felt like she was going to break. So her eyes kept flickering around the room. From Cassian to Amren, from Vassa to Lucien, to anyone but him. Him in his immaculate dress shirt and perfectly tailored trousers, his artfully arranged raven-black hair and his hands adorned in a smattering of silver bands he fiddled with out of the corner of her eye.

The rest of the service after that was a blur. Most people had cleared out of the funeral home to head to Elain’s for the wake - she had tried to offer to cook for everyone, but Feyre and Nesta insisted on catering as Elain had already done so much, was always doing so much. She was already letting Feyre live with her for the time being and it made her feel awful asking for much else. Feyre opted to linger behind, talking to almost each and every person who had come. She gathered up the flowers, made sure that they knew exactly which plot to bury him in - right with their mother - and that there was nothing else to be tended to. Really, she was using it as an escape and a moment to breathe. A moment to delay the inevitable.

And yet, Rhys had always had impeccable timing for better or worse. Today was no different.

He caught her sitting outside on the concrete steps of the funeral home, gazing listlessly into the near-empty parking lot. She didn’t turn to meet his eyes, couldn’t bear it, but was so acutely aware as he sat down on the steps with her. Rhys pressed his side into the wall, Feyre pressing into the railing, a gap that lingered heavily between them. Two years of self-imposed exile that she couldn’t help but feel ashamed about, and this is what it amounted to - two people who knew each other so deeply pretending like they barely knew anything anymore on the steps in a town they’d both called home. She could hear Rhys inhale, ready to break the silence, but she raced to go first. She was the one who had pushed him out in the first place, it was only fair that she had to be the one to try and let him back in.

“Thanks for coming today. You didn’t have to.” Feyre’s eyes were trained firmly on her hands folded into her lap. She could hear his breath hitch slightly, whether it was in relief or confusion or something else, she couldn’t tell.

“Of course I had to. Even if he wasn’t always the most… present person. He was still like a father to me. Still let me in his home, eat his food, stay over. It wouldn’t be right to miss it.” Rhys’ eyes flicked up to Feyre’s face and she could feel them practically burning a hole in her temple, her cheek, her eyes, everywhere she knew he was observing. Trying to get a read on her, trying to ask without being demanding.

“That… means a lot, Rhys. I know it’s been a while.”

A dry laugh escaped him. “Yeah, that’s, uh, that’s an understatement. But I can’t blame you for it.”

Feyre’s heart twisted in guilt and hurt at that. She deserved it - while he had been the one to kiss her, she had been the one to force that distance no matter how much she just wanted her best friend back. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that Rhys would have probably been in a similar way. A heavy sigh passed her lips, turning her head to finally face him properly after two long years apart. He was very much the same, yet different. The same slant of his jaw, the same expressions she had known since she was young. But he was slightly taller, hints of tattoos peeking out beneath the collar of his shirt, a mild weariness about him that wasn’t there before. Maybe it had been hidden by his confidence the last time she saw him. It didn’t matter now - all that mattered was that he had shown up.

“Yeah, well… You weren’t the only one that fucked up that day. Don’t shoulder all of that on your own. God knows we’ve all made enough mistakes over the course of our lives, can’t keep beating yourself up for every slight you’ve made.” Not that it was going to stop her from beating herself up about it, but Rhys didn’t need to hear that part.

“I don’t know, I feel like I fucked up pretty bad. Lost my best friend a couple of years ago because I wanted to make things easier for her. Read the room wrong and ended up hurting her instead, it’s probably one of the biggest regrets I’ve ever had.” He turned his head to meet her gaze, eyes full of hurt and regret, yet an ever-present hope lingered behind them regardless. Feyre struggled to keep looking at him without faltering from nerves.

“What a coincidence, I lost my best friend a couple of years ago, too,” Feyre said, a dry chuckle escaping her. “I thought I knew exactly how my life should go and that he was a little bit insane. Pressure from my fiance didn’t help, so I iced him out and now I’m basically at rock bottom. I miss him a lot, but I don’t know if I can get him back. I hurt him pretty badly.”

“Feyre, I-”

“Rhys, if you’re about to apologise, I don’t want you to because you shouldn’t have to. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to be friends or didn’t ever want to see me again after this-”

Before she could continue, Rhys’ hand darted out to grab a hold of both of her own, folded in her lap anxiously until he had bridged the gap between them.

“Feyre, I can’t imagine a world where we’re not in each other’s lives. Living through it was hell, and I’d rather die than experience that again.”

She could feel the dam of emotions she’d been holding inside of her heart begin to crack, tears welling up until they spilled over her cheeks and Rhysand was pulling her into his side, legs pressed together as they gave each other the first hug they’d shared in two whole years. Feyre’s arms squeezed around his waist like her life depended on it, his arms wrapped around hers like a comforting blanket. Like home.

“I missed you so fucking much, Rhys. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to apologise right now, neither are you.” Amusement had snuck into Rhys’ voice, and despite her tears and sniffles she couldn’t help but laugh a little. As her head moved to his shoulder, he moved his own head to rest on hers. Relief and catharsis thrummed through her veins all the way through to her toes.

“God, we’re fucking idiots. I can’t believe we let this go on for so long.”

“Tell me about it. I have no fucking clue what you’ve even been up to for the past two years.”

Feyre broke from the hug, wiping at her eyes with a small frown on her face as she sat up. “Wait, not even from Mor or anybody else..?”

“Not a peep. You said you wanted space, so I tried to respect your privacy.”

She couldn’t help but wheeze dryly a little at that. “So you don’t know? NIce of you to be so chivalrous, but even I’m surprised this didn’t get back to you. Fucking hell, okay.”

Confusion contorted Rhys’s features. “Feyre, I can’t emphasise enough how much I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A tense moment of silence passed between them, Feyre taking a breath as she let the pause hang in the air for just a moment.

“...Tamlin and I split up. Probably about six months ago, now. Wasn’t exactly amicable to say the least.”

His hand came to rest on her shoulder softly. “Oh Feyre, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend to be sad about it. I know how much everyone else couldn’t stand him.”

“I mean… Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy. Run me through the past two years, tell me how this happened. We have a lot to catch up on anyway, right?”

“That's true. Were you after the full spiel or the summarised version?” She laughed slightly as she turned to him with a small smile. It was nice to be able to sit with him again, feeling at ease for the first time in a long while.

“Whatever you're willing to give me.”

“Well,” Feyre started dramatically, placing her hand over his on his knee. “About six months after we saw each other last, Tamlin and I ended up moving to Seattle so he could do… Business bullshit, I don't know. He very deliberately never involved me in the brewery stuff more than I needed to be, which was usually just as a pretty little toy. I mean, at the time I felt so special, y'know? All these trips, the move, the dresses. Really, it was the smaller things that got me - the food, the comfort. Things that I had to work for before. He told me so many wonderful things and that I was soooo perfect, so it was easy enough to fall into.

“It was kind of a whole ‘boiling a frog’ situation. He would make me feel so safe and loved before slowly coaxing me to do different stuff. Tamlin certainly didn't like me talking to you before all of this.”

“Of course, it's hard not to be intimidated by all this latent natural charm.” Rhys postured, fussing with his collar in a flair of dramatics that made the both of them giggle like they were back to being kids again.

“Of course! But, haha, he definitely wasn't enthused. So he let up for a bit after that. But soon it was getting me to dress up a little more each and every day, even when I was ducking out to get groceries or something. Phasing out things that we had in the pantry or the fridge - snacks would go missing, judging looks, shit like that. Then about a year ago we moved. It got worse after that.

“Literally the only people I knew after we moved were Tamlin and Lucien. Even Lucien didn't wanna be around him more than he had to by the end of things because it was getting unbearable. He could dress how he wanted, eat how he wanted, act how he wanted. He'd be perfectly content. But the minute I questioned things, it was like a fucking heel turn. Sometimes asking who he was on the phone with prompted him to start blaming all his problems on me. Telling me I was nothing but a piece of shit who made him feel depressed and awful. Every time I stepped out of line in his eyes he just got… angrier. Never hit me or anything, but fuck, I think he got close some days.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder tug her in close once more - the warm tears spilled reluctantly down her cheeks, though she'd be lying if she said she was surprised she was crying about it. The only other person who had heard about it until now was the therapist Lucien and her sisters had all pitched in to get her a few sessions with - she didn’t end up sticking with them, though. Not that Feyre hadn’t appreciated the gesture, but she didn’t feel quite ready. But with Rhys? She couldn’t help but spill her guts bare. She gently wiped at her eyes, taking a heavy breath before resuming.

“Anyways, uh… Finally got sick of it a little while after trying to cover up some of the mirrors in the house. I wasn’t painting or drawing anymore, he said that it was a dumb hobby and that it was beneath me. Didn’t have any hobbies anymore, really. No job, either. My entire wardrobe was full of these designer labels and uncomfortable dresses - piles of heels and bags and accessories. Gaudy, flashy jewelry as far as the eye could see. I was so gaunt, I didn’t have any life left in me. I dressed how he wanted, looked how he wanted, talked how he wanted, ate how he wanted. Thought how he wanted me to as well, that I wasn’t worth anything unless I was by his side,” She scoffed slightly, looking up at the sky a little as her head came to rest on Rhysand’s shoulder.

“But I had a kind of lucid moment where I was covering up those mirrors, not wanting to even be here anymore where I was just like, what am I even doing here? I was in such a gilded fucking cage and so sick of it. Tamlin was on one of his rare solo trips at the time so I just… left. Texted Lucien - he’d seen me deteriorating for a while and tried to get me to see things differently before, but it was hard when I was so isolated, y’know? He helped me get all my shit out. Left Tamlin with nothing but a note and that ugly fucking ring. Blocked him on everything. Let Nesta and Elain know, and the rest is history. Been living with Elain back in Prythian since, teaching nighttime painting classes and working as a cashier to try and save up enough money to move out.” Feyre sniffled a little before putting a big smile on her face and turning to Rhys, bringing her hands under her chin to frame it in an effort to lighten the heavy atmosphere. If she didn’t try to take it at least a little less seriously, then she was just going to get in her head about the whole situation all over again, and that’s the last thing she wanted. Not when she had come so far already.

“Shit, Feyre… Can’t say I can beat that in terms of a one-eighty.” Rhys smiled at her slightly, a smidge of sadness mixed with a dose of pride in his stare. She let out a little laugh in turn.

“Hey, go big or go home, right?”

“You never did anything half-assed, that’s for sure.” Rhys took her hand resting upon his knee into both of his, squeezing gently. “I’m just glad you’re happier. That you’re safe. We have plenty of time for all of that ‘I told you so’ type of shit later.”

Feyre simply rolled her eyes, nudging his side with her own. “Thanks, Rhys. But what about you? I can’t just dump all of the ways my life temporarily turned into a tire fire only to not hear about you in return.”

Rhys shuffled a little uncomfortably beside her - he always had trouble when the focus shifted to him in anything more than a surface level, necessary capacity. It was his turn to sigh heavily, looking down at the ground. His head tilted to rest on top of hers, like not a second had passed between when they had been thick as thieves up to now.

“Well, it’s kind of weird. I mean, I’ve done a lot but at the same time not a lot has changed. I’m still close with everybody, especially Cass and Az, but I know that wouldn’t surprise anybody.”

Feyre chuckled slightly. “Well duh, you guys are brothers at this point. It’d be weirder if you weren’t still close.” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, the two paused for a moment. There was a sentence unspoken between them that they both knew deep in their bones, hanging in the air like a sword of Damocles - it wouldn’t have been as weird as when the two of them stopped talking. But neither of them needed to tell the other that. That fact was as true as the sky being blue or the grass being green. Rhys broke the tension first, not wanting to linger on it any longer than the two of them had to.

“I ended up leaving Prythian about a year ago, though. Dad had died - he hadn’t been in good health for a while, so nobody was surprised. I finally fully inherited the business instead of just being a figurehead beneath him, but I never really had any interest in it. I did well in my business degree but it just… never quite clicked with me the way I think he hoped it would. It wasn’t exactly a huge emotional loss to me when he went. Ended up selling the whole thing and moving to New York, actually.”

“Makes sense - you always struck me as a city guy.”

“What can I say? I have very particular taste.” The two chuckled in tandem, the warmth of it rumbling through Feyre’s throat and chest.

“But anyway, I actually ended up putting my degree to use and started my own business. I picked up tailoring and design from Mom way back when and I always enjoyed it, so why not, right? It felt good - feels good - to still have that connection to her. Started out just selling stuff online before I moved into some actual brick and mortar stores. There’s not a lot, but they’re going well at least.”

Feyre sat up, surprise and delight written all over her face at the news. “Holy shit, that’s amazing Rhys! I’m so proud of you - ‘not much has changed’ my ass! You’re like a big business mogul now.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows at her. “Feyre, I’m literally just a small business owner.” “Yeah, now, but you’ve always been ambitious. You’re gonna be some thriving CEO type in no time.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Archeron.” Rhys smirked, mussing up Feyre’s hair a little while taking care to make sure the silver rings he wore didn’t catch in the strands. She didn’t hesitate to mess his own hair up in return, mock offense spreading over his features before melting into a laugh.

“But seriously, I meant it when I said not much has changed, in a way. I live in a new place now and I’ve got a business going, but I still talk to the same people. I don’t go out much, I’m a pretty big homebody unless it’s for any of our inner circle. It all feels so… the same. But not, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.” With that, Feyre pushed up and off of the stairs, brushing down the back of her dress and cardigan to neaten them up as she stood. She turned to Rhys, reaching a hand out to help him up. It was a handy excuse to touch him again anyway, to feel some of the closeness she had been missing for so long.

Sitting and talking with Rhys so casually felt like a puzzle piece she didn’t entirely realise had gone missing clicked back into place. Everything felt so right and comfortable - like her world had been spinning on a slightly wrong angle, only to be righted with a gentle touch again. He took the hand she offered as he stood up - not that he needed the help. Rhys looked down at her with something that Feyre couldn’t quite pick, something between reverence and relief. She would take either. It didn’t matter so long as they could be in each other’s lives again.

“C’mon, we should head to the wake. If we’re overly late, I think Nesta might lose it a little.” Feyre cocked her head in the direction of her car, a small black thing in the back corner of the parking lot.

“...As in, we go to the wake together?” He almost looked like a lost puppy as he posed the question. Feyre rolled her eyes with a little smile and dragged him by the arm towards her car.

“No shit. You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you. I’m not gonna have you wasting money on an Uber when we could spend more time catching up on the way there. If I can’t spend my days beating myself up for shutting you out, then I can at least make the most of letting you back in.”

Rhys nodded almost dumbly as he climbed into the passenger seat, looking over at Feyre as the two buckled themselves into the car.

“...I’d really love that, Feyre. I’ve missed you too.”

The feeling that washed over Feyre’s bones was something that she didn’t think could ever be beat - that things would work out and be okay after all, in the end.

#feysand #rhysand x feyre archeron #fanfiction #rhysand #feyre archeron #acotar #acotar fanfiction #friends to lovers

[vickyvicarious]

“What could I do but bow acceptance? It was Mr. Hawkin’s interest; not mine, and I had to think of him, not myself; and besides, while Count Dracula was speaking, there was that in his eyes and in his bearing which made me remember that I was a prisoner, and that if I wished it I could have no choice. The Count saw his victory in my bow, and his mastery in the trouble of my face, for he began at once to use them, but in his own smooth, resistless way”

I'm having a bit of trouble understanding what he means by "he began at once to use them, but in his own smooth, resistless way." As in, using his victory and mastery upon Jonathan?

Also oof, Jonathan is so aware that from Dracula's body language alone, he is the captor, and that any choices he's giving Jonathan are smoke and mirrors..m

Yes. So, basically, Dracula can see from Jonathan's reaction that he has won this interaction. Jonathan has read the room (it says DANGER DANGER DANGER) and isn't going to break this delicate balance where neither of them admit to this being a hostage situation. He's playing along, because he correctly reads that refusal will mean a worse situation for him. At least if they're still playing pretend that this is a friendly interaction, Dracula won't be outright locking Jonathan in a dungeon or physically hurting him or whatever else (vampire stuff, not that Jonathan knows that for sure here). So Jonathan bows acceptance. He 'willingly agrees' to stay another month, and tacitly accepts the lie that Dracula has been an excellent host/employer who deserves his utmost efforts in whatever way he wishes, because it's his job to answer those wishes. After all, he can't disappoint Mr. Hawkins (yet another form of power Dracula holds over Jonathan, even outside all supernatural/physical power - he could potentially hurt his career and maybe even that of his boss).

So yeah. Dracula sees Jonathan agree to all this. And he knows he's won. Perhaps Jonathan's silent bow even indicates to him how bitter a pill it is for Jonathan to swallow, that he doesn't even want to say it aloud. So Dracula, loving to make things worse, immediately starts to use his victory to ask for more. Specifically, by being "smooth, resistless", he's putting on a super charming front. His suavest voice, his most charming smile. He's acting super nice while he makes Jonathan actively lie about his safety and condition. He implements his mastery of the situation to force Jonathan to go along with him in a way that not only will serve Dracula by removing potential suspicion from others, but is also designed to make Jonathan feel complicit. (He also gave Jonathan three envelopes, but Jonathan only wrote two letters. This may suggest to Dracula that his guest has few people who would miss him, or at least who he feels any need to explain his absence to. Additional info.)

Not to spoil any specifics, but... this is a pattern. Both the "being extra charming in the worst moments" and the "making people feel complicit" stuff.

(If you want, I also wrote a meta last year comparing some of Dracula's wordplay in this scene with a later scene on September 18th, but it's obviously got spoilers. )

#dracula daily #count dracula #jonathan harker #anonymous #replies #btw i tend to assume this is someone's first read if i don't see spoilers in the ask (whether specific or seeming familiarity with #the characters beyond just what we've seen thus far) #and have been trying to tailor my responses accordingly for the most part

[jamiedc-they-them]

Good People Part IV: Safety in Numbers (Platonic)

Summary: A new friend joins you on your travel for this infamous head. A vault gives you a moment of safety. But, like always, the world comes crashing down around you. But this time, it's not just you that it collapses for.

Episodes 5/6/7.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"Should we wake them up?" Maximus, the Knight you had saved - and the one who had saved Lucy - asks as he sees you slumped against a pillar, eyes shut. It hasn't been too long since he had gotten out and saved your friend, and yet you found yourself drifting off.

Lucy looks back to you, You look peaceful. For once, you don't look at war with yourself.

There's a feeling she has inside. For a moment, it reminds her of how she is with her brother - loving, protective; but most of all, accepting.

"I think a few more minutes won't hurt them. I think they need it. Haven't really seen them rest yet."

Maximus nods. He knows he needs the head and all, but he can also understand Lucy's reasoning. This place isn't kind to anyone, and having your guard down isn't the greatest thing. But, you do seem to need it at this moment. That, and you did save him, so.

Lucy gets him to agree to have you both accompany him to find the head. 'Safety in numbers' she says. He can't exactly argue with that; after all, without you two, he'd still be in the suit - or dead.

Maximus packs up his things. Lucy gets up and approaches you, crouching down in front of you. She lightly taps you on the arm.

"Y/N. Y/N, wake up," she says, keeping her voice soft. She keeps her taps quick, respecting the boundary with touch.

You jolt, then seem to calm down as you open your eyes. The first thing you do, she clocks, is check the area around you both.

She smiles, "made good on my promise," she teases, "no urination for you, my friend."

Friend. It feels nice to say it now and know it goes both ways. You're friends. Maybe Maximus can be one, too. Still, one step at the time.

You snort, eyes softening as you look to her, "that you did," you say, standing up - she mirrors you - as you then stretch a bit, "thank you."

"I should really be the one thanking you," she says, "it's you who got me the help."

You shrug off the thanks - still not there with that, it seems; ok, she can work with that - and roll your shoulders, "was all the Knight. I just got him out of the suit."

She wants to argue in your honour, but doesn't. Like said before, she can work with this. Baby steps.

"We're gonna be travelling with him," she says to you, "he needs the head too. So, I figured, someone else looking out for us can't hurt, right?"

You don't seem too sure at first, then nod.

You all go on your way, Lucy asking about what had happened in the last 200 years, as if either of you can summarise that.

"People in charge did what they always do," you say, "they chose power over lives."

"Sounds a bit like a red to me," Maximus says.

You shrug once again, "maybe. Still, ain't exactly patriots out here to shoot me for it."

Lucy looks at you concerned, Maximus shakes his head. You're an odd one, but you're honest. So, he respects that.

You come to a bridge, with two people on the other side. Lucy tries to calm the situation down. You and Maximus, seemingly reading each other, get ready. You stand in front, no weapons, but you'll go down first and give him time to draw.

It works, and part of you believes that it just might work, too. But, the inevitable happens; the fiends see the pipboy on Lucy's arm, and they draw. Your instinct was correct; Maximus draws Lucy's weapon, and gets a shot off. A shot hits his arm, you move Lucy back, just to be safe - it all happens quick, but you still manage too - and he then fires the second round off.

"I hate it up here," Lucy laments.

"Don't we all," you say, looking to Maximus, "your arm ok?"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," Lucy protests, "you've been shot!"

"I'll be fine," he says, "let's just keep going."

Lucy looks to you. You sigh, nodding at your friend, before looking to the Knight:

"Look," you say, "we'll keep going," you put a finger up to stop Lucy before she says anything and continue, "but, we'll also keep a look out for a stimpack, or something for that wound, ok?"

Maximus nods, going with the diplomatic solution.

"See?" you say, "not so bad for a red, huh?" Maximus snorts at your tease. He shakes his head. Sure, he'd probably disagree with a lot of your views on things, but you're good as a person - hell, you gave him the space he needed for that interaction. He decides then and there to trust you.

The three of you continue. You reach Shady Sands, and Maximus tells you about how he was from here. He was a survivor, and how the Brotherhood gave him a purpose.

You might fully like the Brotherhood - at least in what you've seen; a company like that with brutality will always go wrong in your eyes - but Maximus is a good man, even if tortured.

You look from the massive hole, to Lucy. To your friend who gave you a purpose - at least for a little bit. You gulp.

You were bad luck. Hell, you even hit your head when Lucy first said 'hello' to you. You're a magnet for trouble. Yet, she stuck with you. Fought for you in your honour. She stuck by you when others would've left.

You find what you think is a hospital. Lucy enters, you follow, then Maximus does.

You split up, trying to find what you can.

You find some caps. Maybe your luck really is turning.

You hear a scream. Lucy's scream. You run out, back into the lobby area, and barge through a door...only to find that apparent adjoining one is fake.

You feel the floor give out from under you...

You wake up in a startle. For once, no dreams haunting you.

"Good, you're up," you hear a voice say. You turn, alert. It's a woman. She holds up her hands, "look, I understand the concern," she says, "but, we're not a threat. We're not a threat. We have your other friends. They asked about you."

So, they're alive, you know that at least.

"You're Y/N, right?" the woman asks. You nod, now noticing the blue jumpsuit...there's no way, "I'm Birdie," she says to you.

You approach the window, and look out at everything. It's all so clean and...nice. Everyone smiles.

You look back to Birdie, who seems to be waiting for you to ask, "are we -- I mean...is - is this a -"

"A Vault?" she asks, smile on her face - seems your instinct was right, "it is," she confirms, nodding as well.

You nod, taking it all in.

"Now," Birdie says, we kept you in there to make sure you weren't radiated or anything. But, all seems clear. You're free to see your friends. We'll get some food in you, then show you to your room."

"My room?"

She nods again, "welcome to Vault 4."

You are let out, and look over the railing at the place. It's like a community all onto itself.

Lucy spots you, and instantly beams, calling out your name and giving a wave. You wave back, before making your way down to join them.

Lucy gets up, and gives you a hug. You stumble a bit, but soon find yourself being ok with it.

"I'm glad you're ok," Lucy says.

You tap her on the back, and she pulls away - seemingly understanding your code language for 'too much'. She nods, "come eat."

You sit down, Maximus and you sharing a nod. Birdie, and then Ben - the overseer, come over and introduce themselves. You cant help, though, but notice Ben's one massive eye. No one else seems to bat on eye. And, hell, you've seen your fair share of mutations out in the Wasteland - as Maximus says, it happens. But, Lucy seems more disturbed.

You, however, let yourself feel a positive emotion for once - it doesn't feel natural to you - and it's a feeling of safety.

"Lucy," you say, "we're in a vault, that's gotta be something, right?"

"I - I want it to be," Lucy says, "but...Y/N, my Vault fell. I don't want - I don't want it to happen anywhere else."

"That's fair," you say, voice soft and distant; you both have your trauma's, and both have similar reactions with it - wanting to do all you can for it to not occur again.

Yours was isolation, her's seems to be more vigilance.

Still, she softens as you look around in awe at the place. Maximus clears his plate, before looking to you.

"Hey," he calls out. You look to him, "after we finish, did you wanna go see our rooms? I think they should be near each other?"

You look to your plate - at the actual full meal in front of you that you've barely touched. It feels wrong, eating this amount of food, but you've been given it. They have given it to you. And it would be rude to not take them up on this.

You look to Maximus, your new friend, and nod. He smiles, bright. You do too.

Lucy looks between you both. She's still unsure, something in the back of her mind telling her that something isn't right; but, she then sees you both and your eagerness for this place. To her, it felt like a homecoming; to you, it was a new world with a whole new set of rules to understand - and, god, the eager look you both had; the conversations you both have as you finish your own food. She doesn't interrupt you, she just lets you both talk, and that, that is what makes her feel that humanity may just make it through this to the other side; connections. Friendship.

She turns down the offer to go up with you both, saying that she'll catch up, but wishes you both the best. Her smile is honest, but you don't see the way it struggles to stay up right. She wants to best for you, she does really, but that voice in the back of her head won't leave you alone. It seems that, here anyway, it's not there for you - but instead now for her - and so she'll follow it.

You're her friends. She has to look out for you both.

Maximus is right, your rooms are next to each other. Everyone is so nice here. They smile and wave. They say 'hello' and pass you by and leave you be. No one tries to take things from you. No one has an ulterior motive. Everyone is just kind.

That, and no one pisses on you, so that's a win in your book.

Maximus give you a nod and a 'see you later' before entering his own room. Your door opens. You flinch at the hiss it makes, but Ben just assures you that it's ok.

You enter, and it shuts behind you. Ben explains how to reopen the door. He even demonstrates it for you, before leaving you to get acquainted with it.

It's bright. Colourful and expressive. There's no dirt on anything. There are clothes left out for you. Even a kind of gown. You take off your clothes, and enter the bathroom. You see a shower, you turn it on. It works. There is a heat that hits you. It's comforting. You put yourself fully under it, letting it wash over you fully, before you start using some soap to clean yourself. It smells nice. You could get used to this.

You get out of the shower, getting changed into your new clothes. You feel something on your cheek. You put a hand to it and wipe. Puling away, you see a tear.

More come after that. A mix of happy and sad emotions all hitting you at once. You've never let yourself feel. You've never been able to. But, here you are, letting yourself have a moment. To process fully all that you've been through. All you've lost, and what you've gained in such a short amount of time.

You hear a knock on your door. You open it, it's Lucy. She looks concerned, out of breathe. Just a mix of things.

She enters, shutting the door behind you.

"Y/N, I - I think..." she pauses whatever she was about to say, seeing your state, "what happened?" she asks.

"I, uh," you say, "I don't know," you wipe some stray tears, "just - just something dumb. Nevermind -"

"It's not dumb," she assures. She has so much suspicion for this place, and yet her first concern is you.

There's a beat of silence. She waits. Despite the anxious thoughts on her findings. She waits.

"It's just..." you look to the floor for a second, before back up to her, "it's a lot," you confess, "all of this. I smell good, Luce. I don't -" you shut your eyes, seeing the memories you are used to seeing, "this is a good thing. A nice place. Nice people."

She nods, wanting for you to go on, "and I don't - I don't know how to feel about it."

She turns her head to the side, watching as you struggle with your words - so, she says a few of her own, "you deserve good things, Y/N."

You scoff, looking back up at her with your arms folded and back hunched, "maybe," you say, not fully believing it, "but...least I'll have you, right?" your walls are down fully. Emotions on your sleeve. Assurance, that's all you want.

"Always," and she gives it. It's instant, too, tone serious. Your lip wobbles.

"Even after we find your dad?"

She nods, eyes firm, "I'll do whatever I need to, to get you guys a spot in my vault. You'll be safe there. I promise."

A few more tears slip, and you nod. You let yourself have this. Something good. Something to hope for.

Then --

"'Your vault'?"

She nods, hating to have to crush your hope a bit, "there's something wrong here, Y/N. They're - They're talking about Shady Sands. They celebrate Moldaver!" she says to you in a whisper yell.

Your eyes widen.

"Look," she says, putting hands on your arms, "I will fix this. I won't leave you behind. But, you deserve something good, Y/N, and I mean that. Even for a little bit longer."

You look at her, eyes shinning with new tears - one of worry for her.

"I will be fine," she promises, "I know Vaults. I did engineering there. That, and I can take care of myself."

You never doubted that, but still, "but, safety in numbers."

She nods, "I know. But, like I said, I know vaults. I know where to go and how to get there. Before this all comes crashing down, you deserve some piece of mind. Just, keep an eye on Maximus, ok?"

You nod. You can do that.

"Be safe," is all you ask her.

She nods, giving your arms a squeeze, "always am."

"One hundo percento?"

She smiles. There she is, "one hundo percento."

"Okey Dokey."

Her smiles softens, "Okey dokey."

With that, she's gone. Determined now more than ever.

She knew her feelings for Maximus, the word for them. An attraction. But you, it was a deep platonic love. A similar one to Norm.

If this was before everything she'd seen, she'd name it gladly. Fami-

But, she wasn't that person. She was still Lucy Maclean to her core, but something had shifted in her. Something broke. She'd always help if needed, but there was an edge now. A voice in the back of her head that told her that all was not well. It did with her father and Moldaver. She hated it, the doubts it plagued her with. She kept walking, though.

So, when it came to your friendship, she refused to use the familial term. Just in case.

It does go wrong. But, not entirely as she expected it to. These people were victims, who killed their oppressors.

She'd read stories of people like this. She idolised them. And yet, now, she was the one doing the oppressing. The one doing the judging.

She knew her sin. She understood it, clear as day. Still, you both had done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. You'd both just lived above ground with shit luck to life.

So, despite having like no leverage, all she asks is simple.

"Can my friends stay?"

And, to her surprise - once the initial shock of them not killing her, and even giving her supplies for above - they say yes.

She's glad. She's done that right at least --

BOOM! BOOM! BANG! The sounds of Maximus in the armour reverberate off the walls, before a gunshot goes off from a rifle. You're both here. 'Saving' her.

"No, no, no, no, no!" She calls out to you both. But you're too caught up. Too caught up in trying to save your friend, that you don't even notice said friend trying to stop you.

You don't get far, but there is still some damage done. You may have smashed a window to get to the weapon. And Maximus may of stolen the fusion core for the armour.

"Guys!" Lucy calls out. It works on getting your attentions, "I'm ok!" she assures you, "look! look!" she gestures to herself, "no injuries! They were even giving me stuff. Look!" she says, grabbing an item that was inside the crate they have, "they aren't the bad guys. They're the victims!"

It really takes the winds out of your sails. You and Maximus both look to each other, before you both in sync say a single thing:

"Sorry."

With no arguments from any of you, you are banned from the Vault. Lucy looks to you and Maximus; him with the core, yourself with the weapon. Finally a -

"We need to give them back," Lucy says. You both look at her like she's mental.

"I mean it," she says, "we're not bad people. We don't just steal. Especially not after something like that."

"We tried our best," you say, folding your arms like a child being reprimanded.

Lucy rolls her eyes, "I know, and I thank you for your courage in your actions," she says, "but, the circumstances did not require them. They're good people. They need all the help they can get. Plus," she says, bringing out her pistol, "I have this."

You whine, leaning back and shutting your eyes, "but I want a weapon!!"

Lucy rolls her eyes again, "You can still fight, Y/N. You don't need a gun for that. We have each other, and our wits. And," she says, looking between you both, "once we're done, you won't need a weapon again. We'll be safe in the Vault. Trust me."

You and Maximus look to each other. You both sigh, then nod. He takes out the core; you open the door for him and you both deposit your items. You hear a 'thank you!' from below.

"There," she says, "how'd you feel?"

"Vulnerable," you say, gaining a third eye-roll.

"That's not a bad thing," she says.

"I don't mean the emotional kind."

She shrugs, "I know. But, we'll be ok. We have each other, and soon we will have the head. Then we'll be free."

Maximus looks to you. You just gesture for him to go ahead of you. He does, after giving you a pat on the shoulder.

You sigh, taking your own leave. Lucy watches you both leave. She nods, taking a steady breath.

"Okey Dokey," she says, before following after you.

You've done a good thing, she's happy that it's gone well. That, for once, an interaction out here has gone well and ended happily for everyone.

She just hates that voice in the back of her head. That doubt. That fear. That hesitation.

You're her friend. Her best friend, she'd wager. Someone she'd burn down a vault for - hell, she almost did - but there was also that voice in the back of her head. One that said to watch out. To not get fully attached.

There was a dark cloud in her mind. One she didn't quite know how to get rid of.

But, she knew one thing.

You had her, and she had you.

All the way, no matter what.

#lucy maclean x reader #lucy maclean #lucy fallout #lucy maclean imagine #lucy maclean fallout #maximus x you #maximus imagine #maximus x reader #maximus fallout #fallout x you #fallout x reader #fallout imagine #fallout #lucy maclean x you

[tulip-fiction]

Fan Fiction

Content Warning: depression, toxic family, implied suicidal thoughts

Poison – Begins ≠ Youth

Jeha groggily opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep until the weight of them lightened. The container was quiet, everyone else still asleep after staying up late celebrating Cein’s birthday, followed by Hosu’s.

Jeha lay motionless in the bed, careful not to disturb Cein. Jeha had crawled into the bed next to him in the early hours before morning, Cein sighing loudly before making room for Jeha. Now, with the morning sun shining through the window, they lay facing each other, one awake and watching, one asleep and unaware.

Jeha watched his Hyung sleep. He thought Cein looked tired even now, shadows painted beneath his closed eyes. But they looked soft and without the weight Jeha normally found there. Jeha remembered a time when Cein looked less worn, but there had been darkness in those eyes even then.

6 Years Ago

Jeha squatted in the alley alongside the piano academy, his face buried in his arms. He knew Teacher would be disappointed if he didn’t warm up before his lesson, but he couldn’t go in there yet, not until he stopped crying.

“You’re in First Grade now. You’re too old to cry,” Jeha told himself in frustration wiping snot from his face.

Jeha wouldn’t let his parents see him cry. He didn’t want them to know how sad he was that he had to stop piano lessons. His dad was sick and they needed money for his medical treatments. Piano lessons would have to wait, but mom had promised him he could go again once dad was better, so he shouldn’t be crying.

“What’s wrong?” a voice called out to him.

Jeha shot up in embarrassment at being caught by Teacher’s son.

“Are you crying?” Cein asked.

“No!” Jeha protested, moving to wipe his eyes. But before he could, Cein grabbed his hand.

“Stop with the mask. Don’t pretend to be okay when you’re not. Let your tears out,” Cein commanded gently without meeting his eyes. “If you don’t let your sadness out, it will poison you from the inside, killing you slowly until there is nothing left to live for.”

Jeha stared at the older boy, his wrist still held in the boy’s larger hand. Then the dam broke and Jeha began to heave big, heavy sobs. Cein loosened his grip and Jeha threw his arms around Cein’s waist and cried.

Jeha didn’t know how long he cried, but slowly the sadness lifted. It was still there. He was still heartbroken to stop his piano lessons. He still felt scared at the concerned faces on the adults around him and the way his dad looked after his coughing episodes. But those feelings weighed less now, no longer demanding to erupt from him.

The tears stopped first, then his breathing slowed and became steady. “Are you ready to go in now?” Cein asked.

Jeha nodded with his face still buried in Cein’s now damp shirt. Cein patted his head and then gently took a step back from Jeha. He bent over and searched Jeha’s face for the answer to an unasked question and then nodded in return.

Cein led the way into the academy, and Jeha took his place at the piano and began his practice. He always got stuck in the same place in this new song. His fingers just wouldn’t move right.

“Like this,” Cein said coming over to stand behind Jeha. He reached his arms over Jeha’s shoulders and placed his hands so his fingers rested softly on top the smaller set. Then Cein rhythmically repeated the part over and over again until Jeha’s fingers took over leading the movement. Cein slowly lifted his hands until breaking contact, Jeha continued on his own.

“Great job both of you,” Teacher praised walking into the room.

Cein joined his mother at the side of the piano. Jeha watched Teacher pat Cein on the head the same way Cein had patted him in the alley. “Maybe one day you will take over as teacher when I am gone,” she smiled and Cein smiled back. But Jeha saw that neither smile reached their eyes. It was something he started noticing when his parents’ smiles had changed after his dad became sick.

“Jeha, I heard this will be your last lesson for a while. Why don’t we celebrate your hard work with a concert of your favorite songs for Cein and me?” Teacher purposed.

Jeha smiled and nodded with excitement, but before he could begin, Cein started biting his nails and his mom tisked. “Stop that. You won’t have any fingers left if you don’t stop eating them,” Teacher scolded. “Go ahead and warm up Jeha, I’ll be back in a minute. And you,” Teacher said pointing at Cein, “Keep your fingers out of your mouth until I get back with the bitter paint.”

Cein dropped his hands to his side and looked at the floor, his chewed thumb tucked inside a clenched fist. Jeha only dared to look for a quick second, but he thought he could see tears in those eyes. Tears that Hyung was not allowing to come out.

Present Day

Jeha looked at Hyung’s nails, chewed so short that the skin was torn and red, dried blood crusted at the edges of the shortest ones. Jeha looked at his own nails, rough and jagged from biting them. He wondered if his would be that bad if he wasn’t always being scolded. Cein no longer had someone to scold him and coat his nails with bitter paint. Then his eyes lit up with an idea.

Jeha controlled his excitement as he slowly sat up and slid from the bed, wary of waking Cein. Moving quietly to his backpack, he sifted through it until he found the liquid paper and the pen he had been searching for. Jeha had wanted to get Hyung a birthday present just from him, but he had already given the group all the money he had and he didn’t dare to steal any more from step-father. So this was perfect. Now he only hoped Cein really was a deep sleeper and not faking all those naps while they goofed off in the detention room.

Jeha held his breath when he painted the first nail. By the second one, he was brave enough to hold the finger he was painting. When Cein’s breath stayed steady and unchanged, Jeha was convinced that he was a deep sleeper and picked up Cein’s hand in his.

Jeha knew he should go home, but he wasn’t ready to yet. He still wasn’t over yesterday’s blowup with him mom. He wasn’t worried about getting in trouble for staying out all night. He didn’t even care if he was. But he knew his mom would be worried and he wasn’t done hurting her.

Yesterday

Jeha sat quietly, taking small bites of his breakfast, even though his appetite was gone. Step-father hadn’t even talked to him for the entire meal. He was too busy talking to his son, Mingook.

“Jeha’s grades are improving. He’s working hard with his new tutor,” Mom informed Step-father, trying to gain some approval for her son.

“Oh yeah? That’s good,” Step-father said without looking at him. “Once you have the discipline to study on your own like your brother, we won’t have to waste money on a tutor.”

Jeha put his utensil down, done pretending to eat. He hated this family. Sitting at this table, while this man went on and on about his golden son Mingook, his mother begging for scraps of his love, pleading with her eyes for Jeha to say or do something that would magically get Step-father to look at him, was unbearable. Jeha didn’t know who he hated more; the people he sat with or himself for biting his nails to stay silent.

Step-father finally looked up and Jeha froze, unable to drop his hand from his mouth even though he knew he should. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop with that disgusting habit of yours? Leave the table.”

“Yes sir,” Jeha said and quickly removed himself, a smile spreading across his face as he left the room.

It wasn’t long before his mother entered with a small bowl of rice. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“I’m fine,” Jeha answered coldly without looking up from his homework.

“Why do you have to provoke him Jeha?”

“Like it would matter.”

“Just try harder.”

“Try harder? Are you serious?” Jeha snapped bitterly, slamming his pencil down on his desk. “I did try. I did everything. For years. I played the perfect son. Put on a mask. Hid every part of myself that you asked me to hide. But it didn’t matter. I still wasn’t good enough for him. He didn’t care. And now neither do I.”

“Then at least try for me,” his mother begged.

Jeha turned and met those pleading eyes with his stony glare. “I already told you, I don’t care anymore.”

Present Day

Jeha didn’t feel anything as he thought back to yesterday. There was no sadness, and even his anger seemed more like an idea than a feeling. There were no tears he held back, those had stopped long ago. Cein had been right. Wearing a mask, holding in his sadness, it had poisoned him and he wasn’t even sure he was still alive.

Not long ago, Jeha had believed he didn’t care about anything anymore. He didn’t care about the way his Step-father treated him. He didn’t care about his mother’s tears. And he stopped caring about living long ago. But sitting here, the final nail painted with black and white piano keys, Jeha realized that he cared about seeing Hyung smile.

A tear slipped down Jeha’s cheek and a soft smile spread across his face as he looked from Cein to each of his sleeping companions. His gaze settled back on Cein, still looking peaceful in his sleep. It was nice to see that familiar emptiness wiped from Hyung’s face. Cein was poisoned just like he was, and maybe Cein had stopped living too. But as Jeha sat looked at that face, there was a tiny, scared piece of him that was starting to believe that they might be able to find a way back to the living together.

Thank you @raplinenthusiasts for the AMAZING GIFs!

#i couldn't stop thinking about them #own post #own fan fiction #bts begins youth #begins youth #begins≠youth #bts hyyh #hyyh #min cein #jeon jeha #begins youth fan fiction #fan fiction #fanfic #hyyh yoongi #hyyh jungkook #bts universe

[holocene-sims]

a sneak peek for an upcoming (timeline tbd) update 😊

#holocene.txt #hlcn: story extras #consider this a thanks for the kind words on gratitude day :) #i wanna respond to everyone individually when i have time and also wax poetic about how much every comment means to me #it really does mean a lot #it's been a rough year and a very lonely year like i'm genuinely just so :/ #i lost both of my grandmothers this year very suddenly and the holidays feel empty now and i'm dealing with scary health issues #i finally had a brain mri after waiting for it to get scheduled since JUNE and now i have to wait on results and undergo some other testing #and i'm losing my mind a little because i planned a nice christmas gift for my mom and it feels ruined because the post office lost it #and my dad ruined the whole surprise of it by calling customer support on speaker phone with her in the room...and she ofc heard everything #i just wanted something nice for my mom :( she deserves it and although i have other gifts for her still it's not all what i planned #i don't mean to rant but i just wanted to add context when i say it means a lot that anyone even remotely likes my pixels #i may not know most of you very well *yet* (trying to fix that!!) but it's nice to feel a little support from somewhere :) beyond nice #and sorry for being absent a lot this year but i swear i have so much appreciation for y'all and i love you and your pixels dearly #i always feel bad like maybe it doesn't seem like i care in return bc i'm offline a lot now but i really do!! i care a lot!! love y'all xox

[nopeferatu]

Jack raised his arm to brace for impact. “Please don’t—!”

Ennis stopped dead in his tracks. He wondered if that’s what Earl had said, too, before the tire irons had come crashing down. Then he blinked, registered the terror welled up in Jack’s big blue eyes, the red that oozed from Jack’s nose and painted his own fist. A noise like a sob bubbled up from his throat when he knelt to the ground and watched Jack back away from him, expecting another blow.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, darlin’,” Ennis rambled, pulling Jack close and holding him in his arms. He pulled away to steady his face between his hands, studying the wounded area. Jack was breathing hard through his mouth. His big front teeth were stained red where the blood dribbled past parted lips and pooled at the top gum line. He looked dazed. He closed his eyes when Ennis brought his sleeve up to staunch the bleeding, clearly pained, and when he did Ennis saw the wetness that collected along his dark lashes. He brushed the droplets away with his thumb. Instinctually, Jack leaned into the touch, wanting his comfort from the same man who’d hurt him into needing it at all. The gesture nearly tore another sob out of Ennis’ throat, for he knew well how it had gone when their roles had been reversed all those summers ago; the only time he’d ever hit Jack in his life was now the first. He couldn’t have hated himself more if he tried.

Even after the bleeding had stopped the two continued to sit there like that for a short while, Jack half in Ennis’ lap, head lolling in Ennis' palm, until Ennis could trust his voice enough to speak without breaking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, running his thumb across Jack’s cheek.

Jack closed his eyes again when he spoke. “’s okay,” he said, though his voice sounded thick and funny, and he knew Jack felt every syllable throb deep within the caverns of his nose. “’m sorry I done what I done.”

Ennis wanted badly to kiss him, even if it would taste like a mouthful of pennies, but knew he could not do so without hurting Jack even further. Instead, he moved to press his lips to Jack’s forehead. Ennis heard his shaky sigh, then felt the familiar weight of forearms on his shoulders and hands clasped tight behind his neck.

#kay's latest chapters on all i know so far had me feeling some type of way about the aspect of violence within ennis and jack's relationship #and i was inspired to explore the circumstances in which the ennis i write would punch jack and how they both would react to that #i havent written the circumstances part out yet but basically this is set in a world where ennis learns about jack and mexico like. #right after it happens basically #i just think that there's something fascinatingly sad about how their ability to hurt is inextricably wound up in their ability to comfort #theirs is a love that is never expressed in words so all they have are actions and even tho they hurt each other theyre the only ones who #can also take that hurt away #my poor inarticulate babies #anyways give kay's fic a read!! getting to read it has been one of the highlights of my year #brokeback mountain #ennis del mar #jack twist #tw violence #still brokeback posting

[hella1975]

I'm not done yet but hey are you giving zuko eldest daughter trauma because I'll fucking kill you I read ONE line it's probably the first of what's to come but I'm sending the hate ask now xoxo

ofc i wouldn't do that! he's just fistfighting a saviour complex and is eternally burdened by the responsibility of raising and caring for his sister while simultaneously being a child himself and always putting himself before the worst of the war so that azula doesn't have to all the while growing more and more rage towards the situation until it all comes out in a very cataclysmic scene that i will definitely cry at when writing :)

#he's got that fiona gallagher in him #big thief rlly went to town with mythological beauty and 'there is a child inside you who is trying to raise a child in me' v tams zukocore #the funny thing about zuko and azula's relationship is that yes it's kinda wholesome but it is still ultimately fucked #and yet i find them pretty easy to write bc i literally just go 'what would me and my sister be like in this situation' #like ive said before how my sister never really stepped up as the eldest and ive always felt like we shared that role #like i'll give it to her she's better at being the eldest in certain situations and im better in others #and it's always been us helping our mum bc as capable and brilliant as my mum is she's also doing everything alone #and her temper is... not great. so me and my sister took care of each other in our own way #and by 'our own way' i mean we have NEVER had a stereotypical relationship. our age gap is too small and we're both too mean #literally zuko's ch1 quote about 'they'd never been protective of each other' is directly inspired by me and my sister #i dont feel protective of her i dont feel a need to keep her safe and happy and it's really odd bc i KNOW im supposed to but i just dont #and she doesnt for me even though she's the 'eldest'. and yet i love her and would kill and die for her #and also if we were in this situation and we were trying to shield each other #from certain horrors that we thought the other couldn't handle then we'd have to be SO CLEVER ABOUT IT #bc just like zuko with azula if i caught my sister trying to patronise me/protect me i would HIT THE ROOF #like i am thoroughly convinced there is nothing she can handle that i cant and vice versa so we'd have to be soooo slick about it #and while with zuko and azula that only holds to an extent bc azula is ultimately YEARS younger than zuko #and whatever you think of her personality she just straight up should not be exposed to certain things #(neither should zuko but yk what i mean) #it still stands and we see throughout tams the v clever ways zuko has learned to protect azula so that she doesnt catch on #like either the next chapter or the one after (probs the one after) there's a really horrific scene #that's just super dark and gory and while with a normal younger sibling you'd do something to keep their eyes on you and not on the scene #like lie to them or make it into a game or something so they're unaware of what's happening #but instead zuko sees what's happening and before azula can he quickly gets her to check their supplies and count their money or some shit #like giving her a job to acknowledge her capability and not patronise her while still shielding her from a really brutal scene #and it just goes over zuko's head that at sixteen he ALSO SHOULD NOT BE EXPOSED TO THAT #but long story short i just think that's so funny. like the fire hazards are sooo fucked and for good reason #but it literally just boils down to me and my dumbass sister #so yeah. very niche eldest daughter syndrome emanating from tams zuko #ask

[lisbonsteresa]

climbing the walls this is so excellent

#tm #like oh i could really spiral out about this #this man has spent 10 years consumed by grief and loss and pain and revenge...he didn't really have a life outside it #he's such a good and caring man but he was also ready to use pretty much anyone and anything to get him to red john; to finish his quest #and then he did; he got red john and he's on the other side of that quest but....now what #that grief and loss and pain don't go away; it's all still there with him and now what does he do with it #without being able to channel it into this quest how does he deal with it #and i don't think he has; even in his two years away i don't think he has (because i do think that's something that they would address #or at least i hope the show hasn't let me down yet) #how does he move forward when so much of him is still stuck in the past #and that's not even touching the lisbon of it all #because for all of those 10 years she's been there with him; she's his friend; his partner; his (maybe only??) confidant #she's maybe the only one he really trusts; who he'll actually listen to; who he'll be honest with #(even if he doesn't do it perfectly or even well a lot of the time....re: the above) #and he knows he has feelings for her; he knows she has feelings for him (because he's not an idiot lfjkda) #he knows she wants more with him and he knows he wants it too but how does he do that? #what does that look like how does he he get what they both want when he still doesn't know how to say what that is? #how does he take that risk with her and lose the one constant he's had through everything else? #and at the same time he knows this isn't fair to her; he doesn't want her putting her life on hold for him romantic or otherwise #(he already learned his lesson there; he already got slapped in the face with that realization in that tiny airplane seat) #so yeah he wants her to go out and have fun with this nice man who has none of his baggage #who is able to tell her he likes her and he wants to get to know her better #meanwhile he (the person who maybe knows her better than anyone) is left sitting alone because he doesn't know how to use his WORDS #his memory palace and all his mind tricks and powers of observation are failing him and he has no idea how to let her know what he wants #he doesn't even really know how to let HIMSELF know and so here he is alone on a couch that's an imitation of the one he had at cbi #with the memory of what the imitation of a relationship with lisbon might be like wrapped around his neck #while the possibility of something real walks out the door #(this is the scary possibility that was on the other end of his 'does not compute' reaction and i hate it but i LOVE it #this show is doing so much so so well)

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

local idiots are so in love but still won't talk about it, more at 11

#if i ever stop being insane about them you can assume im dead or have been replaced with an evil clone fjklghfdjkh #it's been years and they both know how the other feels yet they STILL will not take that step. will not say what they feel. #talking circles around the love they know they share #it's alright bbys take your time. you'll get there eventually XD #o'ravi soltholia #aymeric de borel #o'ravmeric #ffxiv #wol x aymeric #gpose