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#terrible-terrible-blog
cozylittleartblog · 9 months
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@staff if you [change] the [design] of the fucking [dashboard] i will kill you
edit. i want it on the actual post that i am not actually making a de-th threat against the staff. that's shitty. the caption quotes the fucking costco hot dog meme, which i originally said in the tags. if any staff member sees this please do Not take it personally
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garagepanic · 9 months
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one path among so many others
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copperbadge · 3 months
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I've started to build a bookmark file of jobsearch sites to check regularly, and part of that is looking around at employers local to Chicago. On a whim I went to the careers site of one of the larger corporations headquartered here, and while I was poking around to see what kind of requirements they have for what kind of jobs, I came across the worst tabletop campaign ever:
We’re looking for a data product expert who’s also the ultimate puzzle/dungeon master. Your quest: work with a group of diverse stakeholders to discover key problems to solve and drive consensus, adoption of data standards. The treasure? A faster, more resilient and reliable data system...
That's terrible and funny all on its own, but it gets even better when you know what Large Evil Chicago Corporation I was looking at:
McDonald's.
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shrikeclangen · 2 months
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Advanced Greenstar move: make only one of three siblings an apprentice???
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stevebabey · 1 year
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no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!
Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.
It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.
They’re little, but they’re there.
The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.
“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.
Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.
Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”
He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.
Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.
From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”
It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”
Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’
Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.
“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”
Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”
Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”
Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”
That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.
There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.
The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.
“What did I say—”
“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”
“Literally how many times do I have—”
“Oh my god, you were right—”
“ —before you realise I’m always—”
“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”
“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”
“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”
Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”
Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“
Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.
Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.
He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 
Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.
“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”
Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.
“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.
His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.
“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.
“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?
He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.
Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.
He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.
He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.
Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.
It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.
To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.
After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.
He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.
Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.
That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.
Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.
God, he was glad she suggested it.
Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.
‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.
Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.
Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.
But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.
The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.
Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.
After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.
Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.
Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.
It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.
But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.
There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.
So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.
Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.
“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”
Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”
Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”
And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.
Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.
He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.
“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”
Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.
She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.
Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.
“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.
“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”
Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.
And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.
“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.
And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”
It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.
Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.
Eddie sees the bid coming this time.
Part Three.
— 
yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.
@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus
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ky-landfill · 6 months
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@gothamhorrorzine
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opens-up-4-nobody · 11 months
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:-P
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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ORV is about enduring the horrors in real time.
(for @everyonesfavoritebastard)
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lustrethings · 1 month
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there are other roads to the soul
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renmorris · 1 year
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after reading sacred and terrible air…I do think that Harrier is an Innocence, BUT for Revachol only.
like an Innocence he’s the reflection and distillation of an age's ideologies, he’s a manifestation of a collective and that isn’t necessarily a good thing. it’s horrifying. just because the world has a voice doesn’t mean you should listen to it. if the masses are reactionary and they want war and annihilation. that’s bad.
we know from thoughts like REGULAR LAW OFFICIAL and accounts of his behavior pre amnesia that Harry naturally bounces rapidly between ideologies. idiot doom spiral's tequila sunset account is about a fascist apocalypse cop Harry.
regardless of how you’re choosing to play him, this is how Harry is. he’s an extremist. what he attaches his extremism to is what changes.
we see how Revachol feeds into whatever he believes at the moment, how they rile each other up. how she will echo whatever he believes in the moment when he talks to Joyce. I’m not going to copy/paste them all, but this is one of my favorite examples:
HALF LIGHT - Maybe a good bloodletting is just what Martinaise needs?
SHIVERS - Houses drenched in red, blood gushing down Rue Saint-Cispare... the whole place mopped with a giant red rag! Fresh bullet holes for all the old buildings...
most importantly he’s a guy. he’s a very ill guy. he’s very disabled.
so in practical terms, this all means he’s immensely over stimulated and stricken with divine madness but also just normal boring madness. nothing he has will save him from poverty or his disabilities. as Trant says he’s absorbing everything he hears and sees
he talks to the dead. he made the swallow when he raided the church, he tore a hole in time with an atrocity, and accelerated the growth of the Pale. he knows how many days are left until the end of the world. he can look at Korty and see how he may kill him in the future, he’s linked to the city and she speaks to him.
and he still desperately needs access to healthcare he isn’t getting. he’s a saint and is weighed down entirely by mundane horrors and realities
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elevensbian · 7 months
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can we please stop using 60th stuff getting good view counts/a lot of hype as 'proof' of 13s era being bad somehow. like yeah nostalgia bait is gonna... bait people with nostalgia and therefore be popular. does not mean doctor who is 'back' or whatever because it literally did not go anywhere lol
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Hey Caine!! Whats your opinion about Kinger 👀
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HE IS A GOOD CONTESTANT, NOTHING ELSE!!!!
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lokidips · 5 months
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thought i’d add something more to this fic, seeing as i feel i stopped it quite abruptly. little accident turned into a nice afternoon <3 (not ship art, please dni if you ship th0rki)
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solarmorrigan · 1 month
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💖
Hello again 👀 A little longer this time, but mostly under a cut for content reasons!
💖 rough kiss / hot and heavy / making out
Prompt from this post
Tags/Warnings: FTM Steve, terrible dirty talk, probably more of an M rating but please proceed at your own discretion
-
Eddie couldn’t say at what point they had stopped watching the movie, at what point Steve’s mouth had found his (or if it had happened the other way around), or even at what point Steve had ended up in his lap, but he does clock the minute Steve’s movements shift from lazy, feel-good rolls of his hips to a purposeful grind down against the obvious arousal tenting Eddie’s jeans.
His mouth goes a little slack, his kisses becoming looser things more about touch and shared breath than about any kind of technique as more little noises of pleasure free themselves into the air between them, and Eddie pulls back just enough to grin.
“Feeling good, baby?” he asks, hands sliding down to grip Steve by the hips.
Steve nods, ducking back in and pressing his mouth to Eddie’s, hot and wet and full, only to break away with a gasp when Eddie rolls his own hips, thrusting up against the welcoming softness of Steve’s core. He imagines doing the same once they’re both able to get their pants off and groans at the thought, but they’ll have to get off the couch in order to do that, and neither of them are quite ready to move just yet.
Instead, Eddie focuses on making Steve feel as good as he can right where they are, encouraging the way Steve grinds down against him with redoubled enthusiasm, kissing up the sharp edge of his jaw and smiling against his ear.
“Eager tonight?” he teases, without really expecting an answer. “Bet you’re already soaking through your boxers, huh, sweetheart?”
At that, Steve shakes his head, jarring Eddie from where his nose had been tucked into the soft spot beneath his ear. “No,” he demurs, and Eddie pulls back to look at him, one brow raised.
There’s color high in Steve’s cheeks, his eyes bright and pupils dark, lips are red and swollen, shining with spit as his tongue darts out to wet them, and Eddie smirks.
“No, huh?” he asks. “You’re telling me that if I got my hands into your pants right now, I wouldn’t find you dripping?” He leans in to press a kiss to the underside of Steve’s jaw, following the edge back down. “I wouldn’t find your little cock hard and throbbing?” He pauses at the point of Steve’s chin, biting at him – just a gentle scrape of teeth. “I wouldn’t find your pussy just begging for my fingers?” He presses a kiss to the spot he’d bitten and looks up at Steve through his lashes. “For my cock?”
“Holy shit, Eddie, shut up,” Steve breathes, more whine than admonishment as he grabs Eddie’s chin and angles him in for a hard kiss. His voice is a little firmer when he pulls back. “I didn’t say that.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows at Steve, inviting him to elaborate.
“Said I wasn’t soaking through my underwear,” Steve says with a smirk, before leaning in to let his next words brush Eddie’s lips. “Mostly because I’m not wearing any.”
Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever gotten his hands into Steve’s pants faster in his life.
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bucketsofmonsters · 1 year
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Hunting Season
cw: trophy hunting of sentient creatures, severe leg injury, oral sex, fingering, thigh humping
fem jackalope hybrid x afab reader
Word count: 8k
You hated hunting season. You moved out here, all the way to the woods, to escape people and yet every year they came, the worst people you could possibly imagine. Every summer stupid men came into your forest with their guns and their traps and every year it infuriated you. You wouldn’t be so mad if they were hunting for food, that you understood, but almost all of them were trophy hunters. 
You set off on your daily ritual of trying to set off all the traps they’d set this morning so no one would get caught in them. 
Your head jerked up as the sound of distant wailing pierced through the quiet of the forest. You took off. If you’d heard it, then it was only a matter of time before someone else did. 
As you got closer to the noise, you realized that it sounded human and you cursed, knowing a hybrid had gotten stuck in one of their traps. 
You approached slowly, making sure no one else was around. Your relationships with the hunters were already strenuous. They knew you were setting off all of their traps, if they knew you were also setting their prey free… well, you weren’t sure what they might do but you were certain it wouldn’t be good.
The first thing you saw, hidden away amongst the leaves, was a set of antlers. They poked up above the foliage as you crept up slowly. 
Through the leaves you saw a girl, around your age, with a pair of long fluffy ears that were tucked down behind her antlers overtop her mousy hair. The flattened ears matched her terrified expression, her cheeks wet with tears as she kept desperately clawing at her leg. 
You didn’t even think jackalope hybrids existed, thought they were an urban legend hunters told each other about. And yet there she was, panicked and crying and very much real. 
As you began to approach, her big ears perked up. They were nestled behind her antlers, her nose twitching as you moved through the foliage. 
Big, teary brown eyes met your own as you emerged from your hiding spot. As soon as she saw you she tugged urgently at her leg, which was wedged firmly between the teeth of the metal trap. The only thing she succeeded in was getting digging the metal further into her flesh as she desperately tried to pull away. 
You took a step back in an attempt to get her to stop moving. “Hey, I’m not here to hurt you but if you keep moving like that you’re going to hurt yourself even worse. 
She tried to thrash away from you, muttering no to herself as she was painfully rooted in place. 
“You need my help to open this kind of trap, just please stay still,” you pleaded with her. 
She listened, freezing in place, wet eyes looking expectantly at you as you edged closer. 
As soon as you were within reach you got to work compressing the springs on either side of the trap to free her. After a few substantial pushes the trap fell open and you quickly latched it that way before pushing it away from the both of you. 
The poor girl immediately tried to stand up and collapsed, her injured leg not allowing her to put any weight on it. You went down with her, pulling her arm over your shoulder to help her stand. “There you go, sweetheart, just lean on me. That’s it, there you go.”
She eagerly leaned into your side, putting almost all of her weight on you. There was no attempt to fling herself away this time and you weren’t sure if it was because you’d earned her trust or because she’d realized she had no other options. 
Either way, you needed to get her to safety, and fast. 
Your pace was slower than you would have liked. You’d have preferred to attempt to carry her but you got the distinct feeling that would spook her even further.
Luckily you weren’t too far from your cabin and you managed to make your way back without encountering anyone. 
You pulled her through the door, quickly shutting it behind you, closing her off from any prying eyes. If anyone saw her, you weren’t sure there was anything you could do to stop them. 
“You’re helping me?” She said it like she couldn't quite believe it, like she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You had a feeling only time would take away that instinct. There wasn’t anything you could say to make it go away right now, it was too ingrained in her. 
The most you could do was help her with gentle hands and a soft voice. 
“Yup. Come on, up here.” You shifted her onto your bed, the blood from her injured leg seeping into the sheets. 
You cursed under your breath as you realized that all that was left of your first aid supplies was an old roll of gauze and a half empty box of bandaids. Certainly not enough to fix this. You grabbed some vodka and a clean rag, determined to do the best you could to sanitize it before wrapping it up, or at least to remove some of the grime it was currently covered in. 
The wound was barely visible, clots of blood and dirt streaked across her, spread everywhere from her writhing on the ground. 
“This is going to hurt,” you warned her as you soaked the cloth, hoping she understood that this had to be done. 
She drew back a little back a little before nodding and grabbing a handful of your sheets in preparation as you knelt by her injured leg. 
The little shriek she let out as the vodka soaked rag touched her wounds broke your heart. You were going to string those hunters up the second you got the chance. 
The more blood and dirt you pulled away, the better you could to see the gashes in her leg. They were even worse than you’d imagined. She’d clearly been trying to pull herself out for a while before you got there. 
“Really hurts,” she whimpered out.
“I know hun, but we have to get you cleaned up. I promise I’ll be quick, we’re almost done.”
You dabbed at her wounds as gingerly as you could, trying to distract her from the pain by talking while you cleaned her up.
“Your english is really good.”
She swayed back and forth a little, a proud smile crossing her face. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I know very little about your language, I’ve looked but it’s very hard to find anything about it.”
“Secret,” she said with a wince.
“Oh, is it? I had no idea.”
You’d left the worst part for last but you’d run out of opportunities to avoid it. 
Too nervous to get near it, you opted instead to empty what was left of the bottle onto her leg. As you did, she grabbed your unoccupied hand, squeezing it as hard as she could. 
The bottle ran empty and you looked up to see her with her eyes shut tight and her jaw clenched. 
You stood up to go get the gauze you had left and she tentatively opened one eye at the sound of your retreat. At the sight of her bloody leg she promptly shut it again. You couldn’t blame her, it was hard for you to look at and it wasn’t even your blood. 
You grabbed the old gauze from inside your half forgotten first aid kit and promised yourself that soon you’d go into town and gather more supplies so next time you needed it you’d be prepared. 
Your heart sank at the thought of there being a next time, at the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you could never stop this from happening. 
That there would always be some you couldn’t get to in time. 
You shook the thought out of your head. Worrying about them wouldn’t fix anything. All you could do was care for the one you’d managed to save. 
“Do you have a name?”
She nodded, her ears shifting as she did. “Posy.”
“Well, Posy, you should get some rest. I’ve gotta go out for a while but you’ll be safe in here.”
She glanced around the room nervously, eyes grazing over the furniture. She must have found her surroundings satisfactorily safe because after a few moments she fell backwards onto the bed, nestling into the blankets. 
Despite the fact that she seemed content, you were hesitant to leave her alone. The only thing that managed to send you out that door was the thought that she might not be the only one. 
Night was falling but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You knew these woods more than well enough to navigate in the dark and god knows you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, you knew your mind wouldn’t stop racing long enough to allow you to rest. 
You set off the rest of the traps you could find before returning home, breaking and displacing all the ones that you could. They’d already done far more damage than you would have liked. 
Thankfully, every trap you came across was untripped. You already felt in over your head, you weren’t sure you could take care of any more injured creatures. 
You half expected her to be gone when you got back. 
Instead, she was out cold on the bed, curled up around a pillow she was hugging close to her chest.  She was lit up by the rays of the sunrise creeping through the gaps in your drawn curtains. 
She jerked awake at the sound of the door closing. She tried to bolt upright before being stopped by a painful reminder of why she was in your bed in the first place.
She pulled her legs up towards her, tucking them into herself and inspecting the bloody bandages she had wrapped around her calf. 
“How’re you feeling,” you asked, careful to keep your distance so you didn’t scare her even more. 
“Bad.”
You nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it’s going to be like that for a while, you hurt yourself pretty badly. But it’ll heal, I’ll make sure you’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry.”
Her head cocked to the side and she studied you from her position on the bed. 
“Do you want something to eat?” you asked as she surveyed you. 
She nodded hesitantly. 
Her big eyes watched you carefully as you put a pot on the stove, lighting the fire under it. She moved closer, hopping so as not to put weight on her injured leg and quickly settling in on the floor, positioning herself so she was eye level with the flame.
“Be careful, don’t burn yourself,” you called back as you grabbed a can of soup from the pantry, sticking to something with vegetables in it and hoping that jackalope hybrid’s diets weren’t too dissimilar from bunny hybrids. 
“I’m not stupid.” She pouted at you before returning to her fire watching. “How did you make fire so fast?”
She chose her words slowly and intentionally, working her way through the question while you busied yourself with heating up the soup for the two of you, letting her figure out the words in her own time. 
“Um, there’s gas in the stove and the knob makes a little spark that lights it.”
“Gas?”
“Mmhmm.”
“It’s warm in here all night.” It was more of a statement than an observation but you understood what she was asking. 
“Yeah, that’s because of a fire too, it’s a heating system. What do you guys normally do at night?”
“We stay close and sheltered.”
“Well, we’re sheltered here, and we’re pretty close.”
She shook her head. “No, closer.”
“Like cuddling?”
Posy nodded. 
“How do you speak English so well?”
“I learned. We all did.”
“Why?”
“To talk our way out of trouble. If you can’t escape, make them like you. Buys time.”
“You know you don’t have to do that with me, right? You can say or do whatever you want to, I’m going to take care of you either way.”
“Why?”
“It’s the decent thing to do. Unfortunately for you, decency is not a universal trait but I promise, no harm will come to you here. Be as much of a little shit as you want.”
She scrunched up her nose as she smiled. “Challenge accepted!”
“Not quite how I meant it.”
She ignored you in favor of staring at the stove as you worked around her. 
Eventually, you broke her little hypnotic spell as you announced, “Food’s done. Do you like tea?”
She shrugged. “What is it?”
“It’s good, you should try it.”
You couldn’t exactly ask her how she liked her tea so instead you opted to put some sugar in it and hope for the best. 
“Do you need help?” you asked as you looked down at her sitting on the floor. 
“With what?”
“With moving to the table. Come on, I’ll…”
“No. Stay here.”
You weren’t sure if she actually wanted to stay on the ground or if the thought of you helping her up wounded her pride. Either way, you weren’t going to fight her on it. 
“Alright. Is this seat taken?” you asked, gesturing at the floor next to her.
She shook her head with a giggle and you settled down next to her, setting two bowls of soup and two mugs of tea on the floor. 
She took a sip out of the mug and scrunched up her nose.
“Too hot.”
“Well, you have to let it cool down first. The soup should be better, I didn’t bring it to a full boil”
She picked up the bowl, ignoring the spoon in favor of sipping directly from it. 
“What is this?” she asked, giving it a curious look. 
“It’s just soup, I get it from the store when I go out.”
“Store?”
“Yeah, it’s where I go to get food.”
“You don’t make it. What do you do with all your forages?”
“Oh, I don’t forage.”
She seemed baffled by this revelation. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really know how.”
“You live here? And you don’t know how?” she asked incredulously.
“Hey, I’m not stupid either, I just never needed to learn. We all have blind spots.”
“You should learn. This is disgusting.”
“Sorry, but I’m afraid you’re gonna be eating a lot of this stuff until I can get you back on your feet.”
She made no attempt to mask her pout and you couldn’t help but laugh as you added, “Just think of it as motivation to get better faster.”
She didn’t seem convinced by your arguments but was too hungry to care. She practically inhaled her food, despite her less than glowing review regarding its taste. 
The tea was more of a hit, her first sip not leaving her questioning your survival skills at the very least. 
After a few more tastes she announced, “This is fine.”
“I’m glad it’s to your liking.”
And honestly, you really were. You were incredibly happy to see her settling in, the jumpiness from before all but gone. 
She looked up from an empty bowl, clutching a still warm mug in her hands. “What now?”
“I don’t normally have guests, I don’t really know how all of this works. Do you want to watch a movie?” It felt like an absurdly pedestrian thing to ask someone who’d almost been hunted for sport the day before but you got the sense she’d appreciate the distraction. 
“What’s a movie?”
“I can show you, c’mon, they’re over here.”
You didn’t have any real service out here in the woods, but what you did have was an old tv and a box of vhs tapes. They were all grainy and in black and white but if she didn’t even know what a movie was, you couldn’t imagine Posy would be particularly picky about the quality. 
You picked something light and hit play. Her eyes widened the second the tv lit up with a picture, scrambling to get a closer look. 
“How does it do that?” she asked, her eyes unblinking as she stared at it. 
“I’m not really sure to be honest, it’s a bit above my paygrade.”
She scooted across the floor to the back of the tv, searching for the origin of the little moving image. 
You let her explore, settling down on the couch as she moved across the floor. Eventually, she settled down with her back against the couch, leaning her head against your leg. 
“Hi there,” you said, looking down at the girl and wondering whether or not you should join her on the floor. 
She tilted her head back, looking up at you with big eyes. “Hello.”
She didn’t seem partial to personal space, nuzzling into you as she watched. 
As the movie neared its close you weaseled away from her and got up from your seat to try and clean up while she was distracted. You didn’t want to remind her about some of the messier things that were still lying around. 
Despite her wonder at the movie, she stopped and turned to instead watch you. 
You went to make the bed, removing all the bloody blankets and replacing them with clean ones, tossing everything covered in blood into the trash. You had a feeling they wouldn’t be salvageable. 
“I can sleep on the floor tonight, you can take the bed,” you called over to her.
She looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “No, you won’t.”
“Please, you’re hurt, I can’t ask you to sleep down there.”
“I don’t want to sleep on that thing,” she said, eyeing your bed distastefully. 
You ceded the floor to her after it became clear she would not budge on her position. 
Later that night, you awoke from the feeling of something moving around you. As you gathered your bearings, you felt someone nestle into your chest and you realized that Posy had risen from her spot on the floor and had instead opted to wrap her arms around you.
She was looking for comfort. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out. 
You never could have done this, been as brave as her, sought out comfort like this when you needed it. There was courage in the gesture you couldn’t help but admire, a distinct bravery in the vulnerability. 
You ran your fingers through her hair and her grip on you only got tighter, pleading you to stay with her. You’d just felt her get into the bed and wrap herself around you but she seemed to already be drifting off in your arms. 
“I’ve got you,” you muttered, positioning yourself to try and make sure you wouldn’t get whacked by her antlers in your sleep.
It didn’t take long for you to drift off. You hated to admit it but maybe the closeness didn’t just help her. 
You were just as close when you woke up the next morning, her head resting on your shoulder and her arms wrapped around you.
“I thought you said you preferred the floor,” you said with a chuckle as she shifted further beneath the blankets, still attached to your side.
“I do. I dont like sleeping alone.”
“No, I don’t think I do either. Well, you’re welcome to stay up here, I don’t mind.”
“Mkay,” she said, sounding like she was drifting off again. “This thing is more comfortable than it looks.”
Before she could succumb to the newfound wonders of your blankets and the mattress, you nudged her awake. 
“Come on, there’ll be time for that later, we need to get those bandages changed.”
She looked nervous about the proposition and you tried to cede ground and make the vulnerable position she was in feel a little less scary. “You can change them yourself if you want, I understand if you don’t want me near your injuries.” 
She looked up at you from her spot on the pillow, a timidness present now that certainly hadn’t been there moments before. Her ears were the telltale sign, rising from their relaxed position and stiffening back. “Can you help?” 
“Of course I can,” you reassured her. “Your wish is my command.”
“Be careful what you promise, who knows what I’ll ask for,” she said with a smile, her ears falling back into place at your words. 
“Aren’t you a little tyrant in the making? Come on then, let’s take care of that leg so you can get right to bossing me around.”
She pulled her leg up next to you, wincing a little as she did. You pretended not to notice. 
Your brain ran through contingencies as you bound her injuries. So many things could go wrong with her being here, you weren’t prepared for this. 
You barely had the supplies to tend to her injuries, let alone keep her safe and hidden. 
“Have you been through your mating season?” you asked, trying to figure out exactly where you stood. 
She nodded, ears bobbing up and down as she did. Her dark eyes shone with mischief. “Why are you asking?”
Realistically, it was because her going into heat in your cabin could cause a world of problems. The last thing you needed was to attract more attention to her presence here. Other hybrids might not hurt her but a congregation of them outside wouldn’t exactly be discreet. 
That didn’t feel like the right thing to say though, so instead you opted for a playful, “I can’t be curious?”
“Maybe. I could show you sometime, if you wanted.”
“Yeah?” you said with a laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer one of these days.”
Her cheeks flushed, despite her being the one to propose the idea and you got the distinct impression her teasing was not going to plan. “I thought humans were prudes.”
“Come on, am I anything like the humans they told you about?”
She sighed, knowing when she’d lost. “No.”
She was even cute when she was pouting, it wasn’t fair. 
“I’m gonna go out and make sure no one else got caught in those traps, okay? I hope that pretty smile of yours is back when I get back or else…”
“Or else?”
You hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. “Or else I’ll find out if you’re ticklish, how’s that sound?”
She giggled, her arms moving over her stomach defensively at the mere thought. “Anything but that,” she pleaded.
“There’s that smile again. See you in a few hours.” Before you could really think about your actions you pressed a quick kiss into her cheek. The second her arms dropped in surprise you poked her in the stomach, leaving the cabin as you heard cries of protest behind you.
She was sitting cross legged right inside the door when you got home, her ears perked up and at attention. The second you crossed through the doorway she sprung up, practically tackling you. 
She pressed kisses into both of your cheeks in what you could only describe as an attack. 
“I win.”
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. What was that for?”
“You poked me!”
“Only because you let your guard down.” You took another easy shot and poked her again 
“You’re doing better,” you noted. She was still significantly favoring her left leg, the right one almost hovering above the floor as she stood, but the fact that she was standing and moving at all was frankly incredible. “Healed enough for a sneak attack.”
“Healed enough for revenge,” she said with a smile and a nod.
There was no way that she had significantly healed in the few hours you were gone. You could see it in every movement, she was just as hurt as she’d been this morning. 
The change in her disposition seemed more tied to her growing comfort around you than anything. 
You wanted to keep that going, make sure she felt welcome here, felt at home. You swore you’d put even more effort into it and make sure she knew she was cared for. 
It was that promise to yourself that led you to making homemade cookies for your newfound roommate. 
You swatted her hand away from the bowl as she snuck another bite of cookie dough away from you.
“You’re going to make yourself sick, you shouldn’t eat that.”
She just giggled, intent on ignoring your protests.
“Well, when we don’t have enough cookies we’ll both know who to blame.”
That seemed to get through to her, her eyes widening as she surveiled the bowl. “You’ll make more for me, right?”
“I’m not your personal chef,” you protested. 
That didn’t stop you from caving and making her more cookies. You were certain even the strongest will couldn’t withstand those big, sad eyes. They were a powerful weapon and she knew it.
Eventually you managed to get a full batch of cookies into the oven, despite Posy making every attempt to stop you. 
While the cookies were baking, you hopped up on the counter and watched Posy on the floor, her preferred seat. 
You tilted your head, getting a better look at her as she stared down at her feet. Normally she stared up at you endlessly but now she seemed lost in thought.
“What’re you thinking about,” you prodded.
“Just wondering if anyone’s worried about me.”
“I’m sure people are. Do you have any family?”
She nodded.  “Yeah, a big one. I have five sisters, Rose, Violet, Poppy, Lily, and Daisy, she’s the only one younger than me. I was out with her right before I got caught, was getting her home, I had her run when there was trouble.”
“And they’re jackalopes like you?”
She nodded. “There aren’t many of us outside the family though.”
“Do you know what happened to the rest?”
“People happened to them. Not my family though. They’re very very safe, they never let me go out.”
“I’m sure they miss you, I’ll try and find them next time I go out, tell them you’re okay.”
She shrugged. “I go missing a lot, they always say I’m trouble. Everyone else is always home but I get restless, stuck in there.” She rubbed her injured leg as she spoke, the other one bouncing up and down nervously. 
“Well, we’ll make sure you can tell them you’re okay as soon as we can, when you get all healed up and are able to get back into trouble.”
“Do you get restless?”
“Not really, I like staying put. I do like rescuing you though. How about you keep getting into trouble and I’ll keep rescuing you, deal?”
You stuck out your hand, leaning towards the floor as much as you could so she could reach you. 
She stared at it like you were crazy, moving around it to see if you were secretly holding something.
“You shake it,” you whispered to her. “That’s how we humans make deals.”
She took it and gave it a violent shake. 
“Yeah, just like that,” you laughed. 
Your little timer went off and you hopped down from the counter to pull the cookies out. Per usual, Posy did not wait for the food to cool before trying them, scooping a collapsing cookie into her mouth.
“Are they to your liking, m’lady,” you teased her.
“Better than your soup.”
You scoffed and swatted at her as she leaned away, collapsing to the floor in a fit of giggles. 
“You’re lucky you’re so cute or that mouth of yours might get you into some real trouble.”
A blush began to bloom beneath her facefull of freckles. “I thought you said I wasn’t trouble?”
“I said I didn’t mind and that I’d rescue you, I never said you weren’t trouble. Even I wouldn’t go making claims like that, especially not after you stole my cookies.”
Your little attempts to make her feel welcome got more and more frequent, despite feeling less and less necessary. 
On one of your trips through the forest, you found some lavender, picking some for her without a second thought, leaving a little bouquet of them on the pillow next to her sleeping head. 
It wasn’t uncommon for you to be able to come and go without Posy ever waking. As her initial jumpiness faded, you found out that she was an incredibly deep sleeper. 
She was sleeping in bed with you every night, the cuddling never ending, even when you weren’t sleeping.
When the summer nights got too warm she kicked the blankets off the both of you, staying firmly attached to your side all the while. 
Without a concerted effort from you to get her to move, she’d stay nestled into the covers most of the time. 
There were, as there always are, exceptions to the rule. 
When you got back home, you found her sitting at the door with a sprig of lavender in her hair and the rest clutched in her hands. She was just as excited to see you as ever, already shouting out thank yous and springing up to give you a hug, being able to put a little more weight on her injured foot every time she jumped up to greet you. 
She was getting better and better at English as well, her already amazing English constantly improving. She was an incredibly fast learner. She could hear you use a word once or twice and pick up its meaning almost immediately. 
She’d started picking up curse words from you, which you found endlessly amusing. Her soft, sweet voice would let out an impatient “fuck” and you couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. 
The whole ordeal made her quite cross. She insisted she was just mimicking you and there wasn’t anything funny about it. You unconvincingly reassured her that of course it wasn’t, not funny at all, all spoken behind a smile. 
You, on the other hand, were a little slower with her langugae
She was willing to share but replicating her words was more difficult than you’d anticipated. It had sounds you were unfamiliar with, little clicks and shifts in tone you’d never had to make before.
You’d asked her about her family names, if they were translations or if they just happened to line up with english words
“I translated them. The meaning’s what’s important anyways.”
“What is your real name?”
“Posy is my real name.”
“But how would you say it?”
She made one of the noises you were becoming more and more familiar with. It was more subtle than any word you’d ever heard before, almost being mistakable for a sound of the trees rustling or the wind outside. 
You did your best to repeat back what she’d said and immediately knew you’d gotten it wrong based on her snickering. 
It took a few tries but eventually you got it right. 
“Call me Posy though.” she added. “The meaning is what matters.”
“Yeah okay, I will” 
As you sat there, mulling over the secret words she’d been gifting you, you blurted out a question you’d been unable to shake. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do! Did you really think I might not trust you?” She seemed more hurt by the question than anything. 
Did you? “Not really. I think I just wanted to hear you say it. 
She thought for a minute and then shot back a question of her own. “Why did you get me flowers?”
“I don’t know. I suppose I thought you might like them. Did you?”
“Mmhmm.” she nodded enthusiastically. “The thing is… I’ve just heard things about humans and giving people flowers.”
You felt your cheeks begin to warm and tried to play it off. “Have you? Good things or bad things?”
She shrugged. “Just things.”
You had an idea where she might have been getting these ideas from. 
Her obsession with movies was there from the start. She was endlessly fascinated by the moving images and your inability to explain to her how they worked only seemed to fuel her fascination. You were certain she was going to wear through your vhs tapes. 
Her fascination seemed to warp over time, however. You noticed the movies she’d keep watching, the fixation on romance movies growing steadily the more she consumed. 
For the fifth time this week alone you came home to her watching an old black and white romance, her nose practically touching the screen. 
“Is it true humans mate for life?” she asked as you settled in next to her. 
“Sometimes. Depends on the human.”
“Oh. What about you human?”
“Maybe. I suppose I’d just have to find the right person. Or the right bunny.”
Her face immediately lit up with no attempt to hide it
“I think I like human romance.”
“What, no one ever get you flowers before?”
“We get each other flowers. We just don’t have partners. It seems nice.”
“You could have a partner, nothing’s stopping you.”
“Nothing?”
You slid down from the couch next to her on the floor. “Nope, nothing. Which one’s your favorite?”
She rushed over to your collection of tapes. Her movement was practically normal now. She was still favoring her left side but it seemed more out of habit than from her injury, being fully capable of forgetting all about it and darting about when she got excited. 
She wasted no time before getting comfortable, clamoring up into your lap and nuzzling into you as the movie began. 
You should get more tapes for her, you thought offhandedly before realizing there might not be a point. She was practically healed and as much as you tried to forget it, she would eventually leave. 
You had no clue how to bring up the topic, how to suggest that maybe she could visit you despite knowing that everyone she knew and loved would want her to stay far away from you the second they got her back. 
Maybe you were being selfish by not talking about it, trying to keep her with you as long as possible. Frankly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
She noticed your mind drifting and brought you back to reality with an elbow to the side. You let out an oof and shot an accusatory glance her way but she was staring at you with frantic eyes. 
“This is the best part,” she insisted. “You can’t miss it.”
You turned back to the screen just in time to catch the climax of the movie. The music swelled, the camera zoomed in, and the pair on your screen finally kissed. 
She must have this movie memorized by now but Posy still seemed utterly entranced by the scene in front of her. 
“I’ve kissed some people, but never like that,” she informed you, her eyes still glued to the screen. 
You wanted to kiss her like that. You wanted to kiss her every way she wanted to be kissed, to show her a romance to rival all of her little movies. 
But what if that wasn’t what she wanted? What if she was just a friend showing another friend a movie and you’d misread every signal. 
Posy put those doubts right out of your mind, staring at you with resolve as she clearly hinted, “If only someone would kiss me like that.”
You laughed out, “you dumbass,” before leaning in, slowly, carefully, intentionally, just like in her little movie, with all the love in the world in your eyes.
You shut them the moment before you made contact, her hands immediately coming up to cup your face, holding you close. 
You fell into the kiss immediately. It just felt right, you fit together perfectly. You were pressed up against each other but you kept trying to pull her closer, wanting more. 
The tip of her tongue teased at the seam of your mouth until you let her in, deepening the kiss.
Her legs fell to either side of your thigh and she slid herself forwards and back, letting out little whimpers into your mouth. 
You pushed your leg up into her grinding, encouraging her.  
You broke the kiss for a second, muttering out, “Do you want to…”
She nodded and cut you off as she pushed her lips back into yours.
You tried to lead the two of you back towards the bed while she refused to let you go, causing you to slightly misjudge how far away you were from it and go tumbling down onto the sheets, giggling into each other as you fell. 
You guided her onto her back, pulling your shirt off as she desperately pulled hers off, dragging you back down while your arms were still wrapped up in its sleeves. You struggled to pull it the rest of the way off and throw it to the floor while she trailed kisses down your neck. 
Your hand slipped under the waistband of her pants, and you gently slid your fingers inside her. She was so wet they slid inside with no resistance, her walls fluttering around your fingers. 
You kissed your way down her body, pulling her pants off as you went. As you did, you found something you hadn’t known existed. A little white tail sat right above her ass. 
“What’s this?” you asked as you shifted her onto her side to get a better look. 
She rolled back onto her back, hiding the tail from sight once more. “Don’t be mean,” she pouted. 
“I’m not! It’s cute.”
You leaned down to press kisses into her thigh as she tried to pull you up where she wanted you.
Eventually you gave in to her pleas, your fingers continuing to crook upwards inside of her as you pressed gentle kisses to her clit. She bucked into your face, wanting more.
You hooked your arms around her plush thighs to get her even closer to you, focusing more of your attention on her clit as she started to squirm, lapping and sucking at it. As she got closer to her climax her thighs squeezed around your head and you were convinced you might be in heaven. Your hips pushed down into the sheets as you worked her through her orgasm. 
Your hand slipped down to try and provide yourself with some friction but it wasn’t enough. You needed her, needed her to touch you. 
As if answering your prayers, Posy pulled you up and kissed you deeply, licking her own taste out of your mouth. 
She flipped you over, pinning you against the mattress, her bare chest warm and soft against yours as her fingers dove inside of you, her palm pressing down against your clit.  
You were embarassingly close already, her soft touches bringing you right up to the edge. 
Her fingers slipped out of you and circled your clit, swallowing all of your moans as she guided you towards your peak. You pulled away from the never-ending kiss and buried your face in her neck as you came, rolling your hips as waves of pleasure radiated out from your core. 
After you came down you collapsed, your head resting on her chest. Her hand was caressing your cheek as she smiled down fondly at you.
“Was the kiss just like you wanted?” you asked. 
“It was with you so yes, it was.”
“You big sap,” you said with a laugh. 
A wave of exhaustion hit you and you were glad you were already in bed, using Posy as your own personal pillow as you got some much needed rest. 
You woke up to the sound of pounding at your door. 
The first instinct from your half-asleep brain was to ignore it and go back to sleep, snuggled into Posy’s side. 
The sound of a fist slamming against the wood continued ceaselessly and you could make out the muffled noises of the person outside shouting. The second you heard the word traps you sprung up, throwing clothes on and ushering Posy out of sight.
She picked up on your panic immediately, glancing anxiously at the door as you tucked her away. 
“What the fuck do you want?” you hissed as you threw the door open. 
Your attitude towards the hunters wasn’t pleasant on a good day but now, after you’d been taking care of Posy for weeks, you’d never felt angrier. 
“I want you to stop messing with my shit, that’s what I fucking want,” he shot back. “Do you think we didn’t know it was you? You’ve become a real pain in my ass.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Not my fault if you can’t trap prey to save your life, maybe get better at hunting and stop blaming me for your shitty haul.”
“We found blood coming from one of our traps, you know. After a few feet, the trail went cold. Like someone covered it up.”
“Well, I suppose that’s the price you pay when you’re hunting intelligent creatures, sometimes they outsmart you and your shit-for-brains friends.”
He lurched towards you and you instinctively drew back towards the shut door of your cabin. 
As you did, you saw a familiar face peek through the curtain and panic shot through you, endlessly worried they’d spot her. You talked a big game but if it came down to a straight up fight you didn’t like your odds. 
“Listen,” you said, knowing you needed to end this as quickly as you could. “You’re not the only one with a hunting riffle. I advise you to stay away from here or that camouflage you’re wearing may end up being a defense of mine. Now please get the fuck off of my property.”
You were bluffing, you didn’t have a hunting riffle. But at the end of the day, you didn’t need one. All you needed was for him to believe you.
His wide eyes and nervous glance back at your home told you that he did. 
“Bitch,” he spat at you as he began his retreat.
As he drew out of sight, you slipped inside, careful not to open the door anymore than you needed to. 
You locked the door and immediately whipped around and looked for Posy. 
She was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, her legs curled inwards and tears streaming down her face. She was visibly shaking and clutching her leg and you got the sense she’d collapsed from her spot at the window.  
You grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped her up, pulling her into you. Her breaths were coming fast and you just held her, pressing gentle kisses into her forehead and rubbing the base of her ears while whispering soft reassurances to her. 
You slowly pulled her leg out from under the blanket and gently unwound the bandages from the leg she was clutching, trying to show her what you’d been putting off mentioning for days, what you couldn’t help but notice every time you changed her bandages.
“Hey, you’re okay, you’re all healed up. Look,” you said as you revealed her leg, covered in scars but functionally healed. “You’re fine. They can’t get you in here, you’re okay. You’re all healed up and I’ll never let them touch you again, you’re gonna be just fine.”
Her shaky breaths got slower as she started to calm down, her hand tenuously reaching down to touch her old wounds. 
She slowly calmed down, her hand grasping a handful of your shirt as if she was afraid you’d leave her. You had no plans on doing so, keeping her as close as you could. 
You did your best to cheer her up, to show her that things really were getting better. “Hey, on the bright side, your legs all healed up. You should be able to leave soon, go back home.”
“What?”
“You’re fine now, you should be able to walk. We can get you back home.” You focused on keeping a pleasant smile on your face, on not showing her how distraught you were of thinking about her leaving, about this place being empty, about not having Posy to come home to.
“Oh. Okay.”
She didn’t speak much after that. You left her alone for days, wanting to give her space to recover, ignoring that nagging feeling in your gut screaming at you to just say something. You refused to push. You would wait for her to speak first, to make the first move. 
She never did. 
Against your better judgment, you left her alone again, setting off to undo as many traps as you could once more. 
When you got back she was gone. 
Panic immediately bloomed in your chest, convinced that someone had gotten to her, that she’d been taken. 
The pile of clean bandages wadded up and thrown in your trash indicated otherwise. 
Maybe you shouldn’t chase after her. Maybe this was what she wanted, to go home to her family and forget all of this. Maybe this was her way of saying she didn’t want to see you again.
You barely even had time to process any of those thoughts before you took off running. 
She hadn’t been careful. Her trail was easy to follow, much easier than it should have been. 
You were out of breath when you came upon her. You knelt in front of her sobbing form, making sure she wasn’t hurt before you spoke. 
“Hey, what… what’s going on? Why did you run, what’s happening?”
She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You dont want me.”
“What?”
“You were just waiting for me to heal and now you want me to leave. I thought you really wanted me.”
“I do! I want you to stay, I thought you would want to leave.”
“Why would I want to leave?”
“To go back to your family, back home. You’re not like me, you have people to go back to.”
“You’re my people. Wait, so you’ll let me stay.”
“Let you? Posy, I want you to stay, I’ve been dreading you leaving ever since you showed up. Besides, with you gone who else would I sav-”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence, it being cut short as the wind was knocked out of you when she tacked you, knocking you on your back as her arms wrapped around you. You could feel her massive smile as she pressed her face into the crook of your neck, kissing you every time she managed to suppress her smile for a moment.
She sat up suddenly, her thighs on either side of your waist, keeping you trapped where you lay.  Her ears were perked up as she grinned down at you
She started talking a mile a minute, the excitement taking over her. “I can take you to meet everyone one of these days, when hunting season is over. I’ll get to show you off. Oh, and I can forage for you. Then you’ll find out how gross all your food is. ”
You snorted. “Posy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I get up please?”
“Oh. Right, yeah of course.” She helped you to your feet, still eagerly making plans as she grabbed your hand, tugging you behind her as you both headed back home.
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pink-key · 2 months
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