#i'm here to post this and then i'm leaving

[milkywayes]

GARRUS VAKARIAN: DATABASE IMAGE ACCESS. > PT. 1 : 2160, 2166, 2170. > all files backdated according to user preferences: (terran_coordinated.calendar).

#mass effect #mass effect fanart #garrus vakarian #mass effect garrus #castis vakarian #solana vakarian #turians #alien #palaven #artists on tumblr #illustration #art #scifi #video games #milkyart #garrus retro #I want to make more of these so I'm giving it a tag #headcanons go as such: #turians have a downy coat from birth to toddler age after which actual feathers develop - which molt during puberty. #they're the color of the plates since feathers are modified scales! so for the vakarian siblings they're silvery. #child garrus playing spectre - solana already annoyed by it back then. but hey at least he's using sources for his make believe? nerd #first time castis takes him shooting it's a live target. have fun kid I hope this won't awaken anything in you or do irreparable damage #castis voice: I didn't raise him like this! #well buddy someone did. #also - hard to see but the leaves and tree trunks have a metallic sheen :-) #god this took SO LONG ive never done something quite like this before! also wanted to do landscape for once. #social media is so hostile to this format but I think 3 images is a good workaround #will make a detail post later on... the faces are probably getting fried by tumblr :( #oh I gave castis the comic markings. they look way better and imo make more sense. and we don’t talk about me:a here

[computercreature]

something i see a lot in the dungeon meshi fandom is attributing izutsumi's personality traits to her being a cat. and while ryoko kui definitely gave her cat-like traits intentionally, she's a talented enough writer to also give her a backstory with reasons for those traits. for example, her tendency to only do and eat what she wants.

izutsumi's character arc revolves around freedom. she grew up caged in a circus. and although she was fed enough to survive, this was only because a living catgirl attracted more customers than a dead one.

[id: first image is izutsumi as a child framed behind bars and standing on all fours, making it clear how skinny she is. a hand in the foreground holds out a bowl of what appears to be kibble. narration says “thrown in a cage and given food every once in a while… is that what you would call ‘being raised’?” in the second image she is now sitting on the floor of her cage and eating a rat. end id]

look how skinny she is! we see her eating what appears to be... kibble? oats? and then a rat that she possibly caught for herself. she had no choice but to eat anything she could.

[id: part of the dungeon meshi manga. a slightly older izutsumi is tied to a post and tade sits next to her to say "we've got a roof over our heads, beds, food, and clothes. they've got everything here. is there someplace nicer than this out there?" izutsumi thnks for a moment and says "i hate that someone's already decided what i'm going to eat tomorrow. my name, the clothes i wear, where i sleep, where i go next... here, all of that's been decided by another person... even though, come tomorrow, i might want to eat something else instead. that's why i'm leaving." at this, tade cries out in shock. end id]

when she's taken into the nakamoto household they begin to treat her much better. she's on about equal footing as tade, who also had a rough living situation before being taken in, and tade loves it there! they get healthy and tasty food and they're not sleeping in cages. but izutsumi still isn't free. she can pass off her chores and vegetables to tade and disobey in any way she can but she can't leave. maizuru even put a collar on her, further dehumanizing and trapping izutsumi.

when izutsumi joins laios's party, she's finally 'free', but it's not the kind of freedom she wants. she has to eat even more food she doesn't want or else she'll starve. but the difference now is that she's can leave at any time, and if she stays, she's treated as an equal. they're not feeding her monsters because they see her as inferior. they're all eating the same food so they can reach their goal(s). and this is part of izutsumi ultimately learning that in order to do what she wants, she has to be willing t do the things she doesn't want to

#i feel like this is mostly just restating the text but like. it's an aspect that i never see talked about #she's not the family pet!!! she is a whole ass person!! #it just annoys me when people post these scenes and go ''oh she does this because she's a cat'' like you are so close to the point #and you still missed #dungeon meshi #dm manga spoilers #flavor text

[dsiiress]

everybody knows that im a good girl officers!

pairing: . ݁₊ ⊹ .: sukuna ryomen n’ toji fushiguro

synopsis : . ݁₊ ⊹ baking gone wrong! (or maybe right in your case?)

contains: sexual content MDNI, spanking, degradation, full nelson position, double penetration, blah blah blaaaah.. wc: im honestly not even sure

header from: . ݁₊ ⊹: lady k and the sick man

a/n :BABE WAKE UP, DSIIRES FINALLY POSTED 🗣️‼️ but all jokes aside, hii loveliess im back 😊!! i decided to finally post something, and since this was sitting in my drafts, why not post it? i do admit the ending is kind of rushed, so please forgive me🙇🏽‍♀️ but i hope you all enjoy, comments and requests are gladly appreciated! <3

sweet, sugary, scents of vanilla and cinnamon danced throughout the air as sunlight streamed in through your lace curtains, casting warm, golden hues upon your kitchen countertops.

baking flour dusted your cheeks as a determined glint shined in your eyes, precisely measuring the ingredients for the cake you were baking. it was your best friends birthday, after all. what better way to surprise her than with a home-baked cake?

once the cake pans were safely in the oven, you let out a sigh of relief. this morning had been dedicated to baking, and you were longing for a moment of relaxation. retrieving your cellphone, you settled onto the couch, letting your mind wander as you scrolled away through the screen to pass the time for a few minutes.

but minutes turned into moments, and the once familiar, sweet aroma began to fade away. a faint whiff of something burning wafted into your nose, snapping you out of your current reverie.

panicked, you rushed to the oven, heart pounding in your chest. smoke billowed from the oven, tendrils curling ominously towards the ceiling.

with a gasp, you yanked open the oven door, greeted by a charred mess where your sweets once stood. panicking, you frantically reached for your phone and dialed the fire department.

standing anxiously outside your house, you clutched her phone tightly, desperately awaiting for the distant sound of sirens to signal the arrival of the fire department.

soon enough, the welcoming wail of an approaching engine filled your ears—and within moments, the fire truck came to a brief halt in front of your home. two firefighters emerged from the truck, and as they stepped onto the pavement, their imposing figures caught your attention.

the first firefighter, with a rugged build and striking pinkish hair, exuded confidence as he surveyed the scene. beside him, stood his colleague, tall and commanding with dark black hair, his presence radiating confidence as well as cockiness.

the males strode up to you, their boots echoing against the pavement. the salmon-haired one with distinct facial tattoos— who’s badge read S. RYŌMEN, glared at you with annoyance while his counterpart surveyed the area.

"alright, what's the deal here? we got a call about some sorta emergency, but I'm not seeing any flames. don't tell me we rushed over here for nothin’.” he spoke, his deep voice carrying an air of authority.

the raven-haired officer's— who’s badge read T. FUSHIGURŌ—eyebrows knitted together, his deep, husky, voice tinged with irritation. "are we being pranked here, girl?" he questioned snarkily, his skepticism evident as he glanced around the seemingly ordinary surroundings. however, as you apologized and ushered them inside, their expressions softened slightly, replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern.

as they stepped into the kitchen— their boots leaving faint imprints on the linoleum floor— a wave of smoke greeted them, swirling lazily in the air. the acrid smell of burnt pastries hung heavy, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. ryōmen coughed lightly, his hand instinctively reaching for the collar of his uniform to cover his nose.

fushigurō sighed heavily as his gaze fixed on the charred remnants of what was once a baking sheet. "well, would you look at that? someone tried playing chef but ended up setting the kitchen on fire," the black-haired officer he muttered, his annoyance palpable in the air as he casually observed the smoke-filled chaos before him.

“i'm so sorry for the false alarm," you apologized, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I was trying to bake a cake and—well—things got a bit…out of hand…”

the pair exchanged glances, then moved swiftly, their practiced efficiency a stark contrast to the mess you had inadvertently created. they quickly ventilated the room, opening windows and turning on fans to dispel the lingering smoke. as they moved, they checked for any remaining embers or hotspots, ensuring that the fire was completely out and that there was no risk of it reigniting.

as the firefighters continued their work, you couldnt help but stare. their tall, bulked figures were much larger compared to your own. the way you could hear their subtle grunts as they finished up their job…

lets just say, your mind definitely started to wander elsewhere..

ryōmen kneeled down and inspected the oven, his brow furrowing deeper. "looks like yer’ cake batter overflowed and caught fire," he remarked, his voice tinged with frustration. "next time, keep an eye on the oven temperature."

yet of course, you werent paying him any attention listening, too deep in the wet daydream that was playing idly in your mind. the pink-haired officer stood up and cleared his throat, “miss?”

you jumped, his voice snapping you out of the “daydream” you were having. you nodded vigorously, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush your cheeks. "i will—i promise. thank you both so much for coming so quickly."

you hurried to your cupboard to get them some water. rummaging through your cabinets, you managed to find a couple of clean glasses, and filled them with cool water from the tap. when you returned, they were just finishing up, their equipment neatly packed away.

"here," you said, offering the glasses. "please, have some water. it's the least i can do."

fushigurō took a glass with a nod of thanks, while his partner accepted the other with a grin. "thanks," he said, "surprised ya’ didnt burn the water this time…”

you couldn't help but chuckle softly, the tension of the situation easing slightly with the joke. "i try my best," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "but m’ really sorry for the trouble. is there any way i can make it up to you both?"you offered, hoping to ease the tension in the room and show your gratitude for their prompt response.

ryōmen glanced at his partner before responding, his expression twisting mischievously.

he placed his glass down as he leaned back on the kitchen table, his tall figure towering over you darkly.

“you said you’re really sorry, hm?” he spoke lowly, his crimson eyes now lowering, gazing onto you.

you nodded eagerly, unsure of what he was implying. “um, well— yes of course-“

the officers lust-laced voice spoke words you doubted you would ever hear…

"then prove it."

so here you were— half-naked in your living room, in a standing full nelson position, sandwiched between the two men that were once standing in your kitchen—now both pounding you silly.

your helpless mewls mixing with the lewd squelches your cunt made filled the empty silence in the room. fushigurō’s long, thickness was so prominent as it kneaded itself against your g-spot, making you fall into a cock-drunk daze.

"that feel good, huh'?", toji muttered, gazing lasciviously into your eyes while supporting your legs high. it was so intimate— but so naughty too, the way he was so filthy..

you nodded in reply, clearly too overstimulated to speak properly. luckily, sukuna was quick to amend your actions—sending a swift, sharp, strike against your ass.

"didn't he ask you a question? say it properly, slut, don't make us waste our breath like you did our time now," he snarled behind you. his strokes were so rugged and mean, much meaner than tojis (which was unsurprisingly fitting for the man), making you whimper breathlessly from the pleasure.

"f-feels s'good tojiiiii—“ you whined out the name in reply, hiccuping. it was true, the way they both grinded against each other, inside of you, leaving you trembling, aching with pleasure. this position requiring them hit harder, deeper, inside of your soaked, throbbing slit— it was too much.

"good fuckin' girl, look at ya'— squeezin' us so tight. yer takin' us so well," fushiguro commented, leaning in for a kiss. his scarred lips passionately met your own, letting out a soft, suppressed groan. he went deeper into the kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth.

his hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he continued thrusting into you from the front. meanwhile, his counterpart pounded away at your stuffed cunt relentlessly; each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in both your bodies.

you found yourself lost in this sensual haze of double penetration bliss— moaning uncontrollably into toji’s mouth while feeling your hole being stretched to its limits by these two. your entire world consisted of nothing but the rhythmic movement between your legs and the taste of salty sweat on fushigurō's lips as ryōmen whispered dirty nothings into your ear that only fueled your desire even more.

sukuna’s hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you harder than before, his breathing becoming ragged in your ear with each passing second. toji followed suit by grabbing one of your legs and lifting it up high enough for him to hit a new angle inside of you— sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout every inch of your being.

“filthy whore— paying your debt with—ngh.. dick,” sukuna began, still thrusting into you, but at a much irregular pace now. “who knew such a seemingly innocent thing like you could be so dirty.. starin’ us, shit, up and down like slabs of meat..”

as the intensity of their movements increased, so did the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on the brink of orgasm yourself— and apparently so did ryōmen and fushigurō. both men let out loud grunts, no longer holding back, and began to thrust deeper. it was painfully clear that they were close to reaching their climaxes.

“damn, m’so fuckin’ close— ya gonna let us cum inside? knock up this— fuck, tight ass cunt of yers’?” toji grunted.

"please," you begged between gasps for air, "cum inside me...need it..so badly.” your voice was hoarse from the countless moans and whines that ehshshsh. your whiny, raspy pleas and helpless cries were enough to send both men over the edge. so, with one final push from fushigurō and a deep moan from ryōmen, both men came inside of you simultaneously - painting every crevice with their warming, sticky ropes of essence.

as they both released inside of you, your body was hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced. your cunt clenched tightly around their cocks as they emptied themselves into you, milking every last drop from their swollen, pulsating shafts.

your eyes rolled back into your head— a mixture of pain and ecstasy that left you breathless moments afterward. tears streamed down your face from the sheer intensity of the orgasm that coursed through every inch of your limp body.

the room was silent for a moment as the three of you caught your breath. you could feel their cum slowly dripping out of you as the two men pulled out, leaving behind a sticky mess beneath them.

looking up, toji’s lust-filled stare met your own, a small scar-ridden smirk decorating his face. “that was fuckin’ incredible, god,” he said before ryōmen spoke teasingly behind you..

“but you know, theres better ways to get fucked then damn near burning your house down..”

#jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk #jjk smut #dsiires blog #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #sukuna smut

[golden1u5t]

spencer reid m.list

❣︎- fluff ఌ- smut/suggestive ♡︎- angst

ఌ meeting the old friend | spencer brought you out to meet his old friend, ethan, but he deeply regrets it when ethan starts to flirt with you right in front of him. 

❣︎ is it that obvious? | you and spencer were closer than normal when showing up at rossi’s dinner party which causes for teasing from derek and a kiss at the end of the night.

ఌ working all day | spencer’s being a brat because you’ve been working all day, leaving you no choice but to fix his attitude for him. 

❣︎ periods and colds | being sick and on your period is never a easy thing. the symptoms that come with it are even worse but you're still determined to go to work and it's up to spencer to make sure you stay home and get taken care of.

♡︎ jj’s confession | the aftermath of jj’s fuck up.

ఌ sober enough | while out at a bar with the team the tension between you and spencer grew to be thicker until it was too much to stand. 

ఌ mean but he likes it | spencer finds that he likes it when your upset.

ఌ right here, right now | “you know, i could always get you off right here, right now”

ఌ untitled blurb | making spencer suck your strap before you fuck him.

ఌ worship you | spencer takes notice of how you react to being praised so he takes that information and runs with it. 

ఌ home remedy | spencer's a genius, he knows everything and one thing he's learned is that orgasms help with cramps.

ఌ early in the morning | spencer always wakes up before you and he usually takes time to himself to admire you. this morning is different though, he wakes up with the sudden need to bury his head between your thighs.

ఌ discovery | while being pinned down underneath you, spencer really can't think of anything other than filling you up with his cum.

ఌ one more | spencer's a munch. that's it. that's the summary.

ఌ change of plans | the arrangement you had with spencer, friends with benefits, quickly changes to more than that when he sees a cop flirting with you on the job.

ఌ book club | you can’t stop finding yourself in spencer’s bed, even after you’ve broken up.

❣︎ ఌ backwards | you and spencer never got along, with him just getting back from prison and you being the newbie, until you do and things start moving faster than expected. 

ఌ ruining him | basically just ruining spencer…

♡︎ ❣︎ ఌ addiction | spencer's working through his addiction and you hate to see him in pain. you was to try and take his mind off of things, even if it'll only last a little while.

❣︎ share the attention | having a new baby around means that majority of the attention goes to it. your daughter thinks that with all the attention your giving the baby you've forgotten about her, luckily spencer is there to explain to her that you both will never forget her.

ఌ substitution | after running out of candies to suck on, you and spencer find a different way to keep your mouth occupied.

ఌ gold chain | post-prison!spencer + gold chain + talking you through it. dangerous combination.

ఌ sativa | having sex with spencer but your both high 

ఌ date night | it’s supposed to be date night with just you and spencer but that quickly ended when a guy started to flirt with you. (including aaron hotchner)

ఌ hot tub |  after a long case you and spencer find yourselves wanting the same thing, to relax in the hotels hot tub, but the tension between you was so thick it led to doing more things than relaxing. 

ఌ I'm onto you | based on "haunted" by beyoncé

ఌ professor | you've always had eyes for your professor, always doing or wearing something that'll provoke him. one day you wear a particularly short skirt and spencer decides he can't take it anymore…

ఌ teacher of all things | spencer may be your professor but how to catch a serial killer isn't the only thing hes teaching you.

❣︎ incoming baby | you and spencer get into an argument over something as silly. while he's too busy being stubborn, you're busy going into labor.

ఌ nyquil | you fuck him so good he falls asleep immediately after you finish.

ఌ mile high | you're bored and teasing spencer seemed to be harmless and entertaining until he pops a boner, you take your chances with inviting him into the small bathroom to have a quickie.

ఌ touch starved | spencer was alone for so long before you got together and he's just so touch starved he gets hard just from looking at you, even if you had just got done having sex.

ఌ talk to me | making spencer talk to you while you jerk him off.

♡︎ mess it up | spencer hadn't been answering any of your phone calls and every time you showed up at his apartment he pretended he wasn't home. so, you go to his job, hoping to get a second chance with him. based on “mess it up” by gracie abrams 

ఌ that boy’s a munch | spencer’s a munch. that’s it.

♡ ❣︎ ︎ ఌ honeymoon | sex has always been a bad subject growing up, it was shunned upon to give into your bodies desires without being married or wanting kids. the abuse that came with this topic has caused you to hide away from it, you've never told spencer but when you do, he makes sure to make you as comfortable as he can.

❣︎ mirrorball | spencer notices how you put other people before you all the time so he decides to do something special for just you.

ఌ distract him | spencer looks amazing reading his book, his lip tucked between his teeth and his hands trailing across the page. you can't help but pull him onto your lap and distract him.

ఌ much better | pegging spencer when he gets home after a long case

ఌ a challenge | making spencer cum by just playing with his nipples 

ఌ playboy bunny | while being questioned in regards to a murder investigation, your only way of proving your innocence is the tattoo you have on your underboob.

ఌ shade of purple | spencer’s watching you paint your nails his favorite shade of purple and can’t help but let his mind wander. 

ఌ hidden freak | spencer's not very used to having to hide hickeys on his body and you had to leave before he had the chance to ask you how to hide it. doing the best he could, he threw on a shirt with a collar and hoped for the best.

♡︎ you're too sweet for me | spencer is your dad's best friend and you're fresh out of college. what happens when he's innocently picking you up from a night out with your friends turns into a heartbreak?

ఌ birthday boy | it’s spencer’s birthday and derek’s birthday gift to him is a trip to the strip club and private dance. 

ఌ next time just ask | you’ve had an attitude with spencer all day long, he finds the one thing that’ll make it go away

ఌ intelligence is attractive | spencers always had a crush on you but the way you show your intelligence does him in like nothing else. 

❣︎ hollywood star | you and spencer had been in the early stages of your relationship when lila archer came along(or her stalker to put it better). you already weren’t fond of her when she’d been giving spencer heart eyes the entire time but when gideon sent him to watch over her for the night, that really set you off. 

ఌ first timer | you’re taking spencer’s virginity and everything is just so much for him that he starts to cry. 

ఌ lingerie | you're showing spencer all the lingerie sets you got while out shopping with the girls and you knew he'd like them but you underestimated just how much he'd like them.

ఌ wait your turn | having two partners is great and very fun until you're stuck on the sidelines while they have all the fun. (including aaron hotchner)

ఌ he’s clueless | your boy is a genius but when it comes to sex, he's absolutely clueless.

ఌ patched up | spencer had gotten hurt while on a case and it was up to you to patch him back up, which wouldn’t have been an issue if the tension between you wasn’t so thick.

#golden1u5t #myrarants #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid masterlist

[extemts]

hiii !! i was wondering if u could write an actress! reader x joost klein ? like, reader is up-and-coming, mostly in small indie films, and the two get caught out on a romantic, summer date by some fans that photographed them before posting it online. i would love if this would be a feminine female reader but anything will do. thank you so much !! :333

A life with you is like a movie.

requested? yes!

reader? female.

genre? fluff, secret relationships

as usual, my readers are alwaye kept gender neutral unless specifically requested like here!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Joost Klein at the premier of So Long, Florida!"

"Joost Klein dating a new up and coming actress?"

The rumors were everywhere for a while- it all started when scenes of your latest movie got attention on social media, leading to a success among dutch movie critics and a growing fan base around you. People were quick to find out that you were quite the Joost fan and when he was officially invited to the premier, rumors started really boiling up, but neither of you truely minded- if all it was quite entertaining to see fangirls either loving it or hating it. In the end, the man was yours.

Today was finally the first day in ages where both of you were free, so you decided to block out the entire day considering it was the first slightly cooler day of summer in a while, meaning you could enjoy being outside without boiling away, no matter how flowly of a dress one could pick. The day had been spent with lots of laughter, a whole bunch of ice cream and so many kisses that it got hard to count them. As the evening slowly came by, both of you had decided to sit down at your favorite family owned italian place.

"I missed this. I missed you most importantly." Joost broke the comfortable silence between you two, his lips curling up into a smile as he played with a strand of your long hair, his elbows resting on the table. "zo mooi..." the blonde man sitting across from you mumbled under his breath as you kept on talking about something, interrupting your words with a little kiss. Not many people know but Joost was truely a very loving man who would probably drop everything the second you ask for help; no matter what, he would go out of his way to make sure you were always satisfied and happy, and god he helped you through some hardships in life before. "So, anything regarding casting calls next week?" he tilted his head, his glasses slipping down just a little due to the movement. You cherished any moment where his glasses slipped down because you knew damn well he was looking over them and his vision of you was blurry, yet his eyes still had that same look you see in a teenager who fell madly in love with someone in their class, even if he couldn't properly see you.

"I got two I'm preparing for. Pretty similar roles, but I'm hoping to impress at least one of them." your voice showed quite some nervousness but truely you were always pretty confident in yourself, which honestly wasn't like that before the relationship between the two of you started. Seeing him give his everything on stage without showing an ounce of self doubt was eye opening. "What about you, shouldn't your new single be finished soon?-" your words were nearly cut off by the sudden sound of notifications coming from Joost's phone, then yours, and then both of them. The dutch singer only raised an eyebrow at you before unlocking his phone, the look on his face getting more and more confused the more he seemed to scroll through his phone, then he put it down and started looking around him like he just lost his dog. "Sooo babe, looks like we are official now." he shook his head in disbelief, a little chuckle leaving him as he finally turned his phone around to show you.

There you were, the two of you at this exact table, a picture taken less than ten minutes ago with Joost's fingers still playing with your hair, you seemed to be mid talking, it was quite the picture.

"I guess we are... I don't mind, you don't mind either, right?"

Before answering, he leaned a little closer again, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

"I'll happily show you off."

okaaaay let's go

#joost #joost klein #eurovison song contest #joost klein x reader #joost klein fanfiction #fanfiction #okaaaay let's go

[shellshocklove]

does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n

a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.

Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be��� well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.

And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.

But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.

Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.

And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?

Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.

Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.

But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.

Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ‘bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”

Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.

The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.

Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.

“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.

Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?”

The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.

“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.

“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”

Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.

“Are you alone?” Joel asked.

“Not anymore,” the man answered.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”

“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”

“Take me to it.”

The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.

He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.

The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.

“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.

Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ‘wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.

“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”

When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.

“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.

Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.

Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.

The man’s wife.

“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.

He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.

Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”

Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.

Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.

“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”

Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”

“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.

Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.

“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”

“Boston.”

“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”

Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.

“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”

Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.

The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.

“This is…” The man paused.

“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”

“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.

You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.

Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.

“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”

The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.

“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.

“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.

“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.

“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”

That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.

You.

You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.

After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”

“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.

“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”

Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.

So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.

The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.

When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.

A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.

It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”

Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.

“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.

The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.

“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.

That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”

Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.

“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.

His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.

“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.

“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.

“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.

“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”

Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.

“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.

Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?

You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.

You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.

When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.

“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.

Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.

He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.

With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.

“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.

Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.

Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.

You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.

The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.

“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.

“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”

Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.

“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”

“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.

“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”

Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.

“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.

“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.

Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.

The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This <s>new</s> temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.

Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.

A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.

“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.

Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.

“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”

“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.

“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”

Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.

Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.

Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”

Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.

Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.

Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.

The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.

“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”

Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.

“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”

Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.

“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.

“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”

“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.

“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.

“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”

Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.

“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”

Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”

“Well, how do you aim straight?”

“You learn to shoot.”

You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”

Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”

You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.

His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”

Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”

“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.

“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.

“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.

Cute.

“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.

He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.

“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”

“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”

Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.

“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.  

“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.

Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”  

He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.

“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”

This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”

“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”

Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.

“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.

“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”

“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.

Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.

“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”

“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”

“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”

Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.

“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.

If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.

He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.

After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.

“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”

Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”

Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.

You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.

An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.

“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”

“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.

“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.

“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”

“Shut up.”

The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.

Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.

On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.

His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.

You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.

“Joel.”

Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.

“Joel.”

The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.

Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.

And…

It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.

He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.

Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.

“Joel.”

In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.

As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.

The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.

Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.

His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.

His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.

“Fuck.”

Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.

How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–

Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.

The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.

His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.

“Shit.”

With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.

Fuck.

His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.

The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.

Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.

Finally, Joel could breathe.

i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal

[ladykailitha]

Slipping on my evil author gloves and cracking my knuckles before diving in!

It's post-season 4 (with the canon divergence of Eddie living) and Steve and Eddie are falling in love while they figure out how to destroy Vecna for good.

But there are moments when it's quiet at night Steve will hear someone shouting his name.

"--TEVE!"

But it's always garbled like static over the walkie or shouts underwater. And every time Eddie pulls him close and whispers that it's just a nightmare. No one is calling him, everyone is safe.

They defeat Vecna and Eddie and Steve make plans to leave Hawkins together.

But when Steve arrives a little early at the trailer, he finds that Eddie was just going to slip away without telling him.

Eddie laughs. Tells him that no one wants him around. The kids will get driver's licenses and won't need rides anymore. Robin will run off with Nancy to Emerson and he'll be left all alone. Like he deserves to be.

But as Eddie starts laughing, Steve can hear the yelling again.

"Get the tape out his tape deck in his car!"

Steve is frowning. Who's tape deck?

Eddie notices the little confused frown and mockingly tells him that he was just too dim to notice that everyone secretly hated him.

Suddenly the air is filled with music.

Soldier boy, made of clay Now an empty shell Twenty one, only son But he served us well Bred to kill, not to care Do just as we say Finished here, greetings death He's yours to take away

Eddie's face transforms from mocking to enraged. His body starts shaking and convulsing. There is a strange after image and Steve takes a step back.

Vecna appears and Steve turns around. In the doorway of the trailer is the real Eddie and behind him is Steve's bedroom. He doesn't even look back, he starts running.

His back erupts in pain multiple lines burning all the way down.

****

Eddie walks into the Harrington mansion cautiously. He's never just strolled right in without Steve calling out to him.

But his car is here and none of the kids have heard from in 24 hours and even Robin is freaking out. Steve was supposed to work that morning, but never showed.

Two things that Steve would never do.

He starts searching the house but comes up empty. He's standing in the main hallway rubbing his chin when he hears it. Whimpering.

Eddie storms up the stairs and throws open the bedroom door. Steve is on the bed, complete asleep but clutching the sheets as he tosses and turns.

Eddie grabs the walkie and screams code red! And tells everyone to get their asses to Steve's ASAP.

Everyone who could get there arrives within minutes.

"I can't wake him!" Eddie screams as everyone stumbles into the bedroom.

Everyone tries what they can to wake him, but nothing.

Then El comes bursting through the door. "It's Vecna!"

"Why would Vecna target Steve?" Dustin asks and everyone glares at him. "What? I'm not saying he's not important or whatever, but..." he waves at El, Nancy, and Will. "Like."

Eddie growls and screams. "Get the tape out his tape deck in his car!" He turns to Robin. "Where does he keep his Walkman?"

Robin ran for his top drawer and handed it to him.

Dustin wasn't back yet.

"Dustin!" Robin screams as everyone else watches in silent vigil.

Dustin comes scrambling up the stairs and hands it to Eddie.

"Why is it a Metallica tape?" he says softly.

Eddie jams it into the Walkman and hits play. He places the headphones over Steve's ears and holds his hand as he waits. He was about to say he didn't care what the tape was when the song starts playing. The volume up as loud as it could be.

"Shit."

"Eddie?" El asks, tilting her head to the side.

Eddie and Dustin share a glance of just shattered emotions.

"It's called Disposable Heroes, El," Mike whispers.

Suddenly the air is still and growing stale with each passing moment as they all take in the meaning of that.

Then Steve comes to, gasping and crying. Suddenly he's covered in bodies as they all desperately try to hug him all at once.

Eddie gets close and whispers, "You are loved, Steve Harrington and tell Vecna he made a mistake targeting you. We will come for him with a fierceness like the of a fire storm."

El grins. "Done."

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #heavy angst #angst with a happy ending

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | pt. 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

------------------------------------------------------

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, landonorris, and 74,922 others!

yourusername life lately 💌

user1 swiftie, romcom lover and f1 fan... she's really one of us🩷

user2 and that's why she's the girlies' bestie

user3 QUEEN WE MISSED U SO MUCH

user4 as pretty as always 😍

user5 i'm probably reaching here but posting THAT movie feels like a statement's being made 👀

user6 right?? after all the drama she goes and posts that movie title and i just don't know how to feel user7 user6 thank god she just posted the title cause if she'd posted the "you can't lose something you never had" line, i would've lost my mind 😥 user8 or maybe yn just likes the movie??? user9 user8 THIS!! people act like there's a secret meaning to everything and i'm tired of that crap

user10 i'm a simple girl: i see yn and taylor swift in the same post, i like

user11 so what happened? were you starting to lose relevance and decided to come back?😂😂

user12 she needs to pay the bills somehow 😂 user13 girlie came back to keep playing the victim lol user14 y'all need to get a life asap.

user15 YOU DROP THIS QUEEN 👑

carmenmmundt gorgeous woman 😍

yourusername you are💗 user16 OMG MY FAV GIRLS INTERACTING user17 carmen please please please stay away from this problematic woman😕

user18 soooo are we gonna talk about lando liking the post or what

user19 girl i can't do this again user20 can't believe lando is back again with this bitch😒 user21 user20 wtf??? it's just a like omfg chill.

user22 yn please don't leave us again 🥺

📞 calling Pato

[yn; normal] [pato; cursive]

"Hi-"

"I'm not gonna lie, you are either very brave or very stupid for calling me right after the videos of your little date with Lando are going viral. Did you get tired of hiding your relationship?"

"...Guess I deserve that."

"[sights] What do you want, yn?"

"I swear I won't take up much of your time. I just want to talk... well, apologize, actually. I'd prefer to do it face to face rather than over the phone but I know that right now I'm probably the last person you wanna see. At least this way, if you don't wanna keep listening to me, you can just end the call."

"Well, I'm very tempted to end the call right now."

"Pato, I-"

"However, I'm also very curious about what you have to say."

"So...?"

"So I'll give you a chance to talk. But I promise you yn, if I hear any lame excuses, I will hang up and block you. Are we clear?"

"Hundred percent clear."

"Then talk."

"Well... first of all, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I promise it was never my intention to hurt you, even if I ended up doing it anyway. I should've told you from the beginning the kind of relationship I had with Lando and I should've been honest with you, especially when my feelings towards you changed to something deeper. I kno-"

"Hold on. What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"What did you just say?"

"That I'm sorry I lied to yo-"

"No, no. The part about your feelings."

"Oh. Well... you heard me. And I don't know why you sound so surprised. I mean, what happened between me and Lando in Spain was a stupid and terrible decision I made, and I should've known better cause my feelings for you were getting stronger."

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

"I... [sights]. I've thought about it a lot in the last few weeks, you know? I was trying to put all the blame on Lando when in the end I was the one who took the initiative. We were just going to talk to end that situationship once and for all, and then I kissed him. And instead of stopping him when he was going for more, I just let it happen cause in my head it was a form of goodbye. Clearly I ended up feeling guilty but the damage was done. And when I could've made things right by telling you the truth about what happened, I didn't. I was embarrassed, but mostly scared of losing the best man I've ever known... but that ended up happening anyway, and I'm to blame for that."

"..."

"Pato?"

"Did you love him?"

"No. We started out as friends and one day I realized I was attracted to him, one night one thing led to another and we became friends with benefits ever since. He didn't want a relationship at that time and neither did I. But in the last few months that changed for me. I wanted a partner, a committed relationship. Lando wasn't that and I was tired of being just a "casual thing". So no. I liked him, but I never loved him."

"So what was that date night about?"

"Just us being adults and having a real and necessary conversation. I had things to apologize for and so did he. I think Lando and I finally found common ground and are ready to move forward... not with each other, just to be clear. Just friends and nothing else."

"For real this time?"

"For real this time. My priorities and my heart are elsewhere."

"Oh, really? Where?"

"I could tell you or I could show you. To be honest, and if you let me, I'd rather show you. You know, actions speak louder than words."

"Yeah, I've heard that. You have any idea?"

"It depends. What are you doing on Friday?"

pacers

liked by elbaoward, tyresehaliburton, arrowmclaren, and 43,942 others!

pacers We had some motorsport representation in the house tonight!

user1 ynpato being hard launched (again?) by the pacers was not on my bingo card but i appreciate it🫶

user2 this is so random and i love it!! user3 the pacers earned my respect after this 🫡 user4 pacers stonks after this hard launch📈📈📈

user5 YNPATO BASKETBALL DATE? WE WON FR

user6 this is like straight out of a movie 😻 user7 THEY'RE SO ROMCOM CODED

user8 NOOO PATO NOT HER AGAIN 😫😫

user9 right? my week has been ruined. user10 keep cryin' haters 😘

indycar Hi yn and pato!! 👋

user11 basket date a few days after her post? she's an icon AND the mastermind fr 💅

user12 context?? user13 user12 her last ig post included a pic of "how to lose a guy in 10 days" and some people were speculating it could mean something, now yn goes with pato to a basketball game just like in the movie 😂 user14 SHE MANIFESTED IT AS THE QUEEN SHE IS🙌

user15 real question is: yourusername did Pato get you a soda?

patriciooward of course i did! 🙄 yourusername not only that but he also got his head in the game😏🏀 user16 I'M LIVING FOR THIS REFERENCES

user17 they make such a beautiful couple omg🥹

user18 are y'all forgetting she was in a date with lando just a few days ago????

user19 she belongs to the streets fr user20 the day y'all understand yn can be friends with lando or anyone is when you'll finally grow up.

user21 not related but she always slays with her outfits🔥

user22 fashion icon for real 🤩 user23 i want her wardrobe so bad😩

user24 YNPATO CONFIRMED 🚀🚀🚀

user25 i just wanna know if pato can fight 🤺

user26 i wanna be her so badly 😩

user27 same girl, same

yourusername posted to their story!

yourusername

liked by arrowmclaren, oscarpiastri, frosenqvist, and 79,889 others!

yourusername And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for. King of my heart, body and soul 🧡

user1 MOM AND DAD ARE THRIVING 😍

user2 and we love to see it! user3 this is their world and we're just living in it

user4 yn is stronger than me cause if Pato looked at me like in the second pic... 😳😳

user5 IKR??? I'M DEAD user6 i was not ready for that, i'm currently on the floor user7 i meaaaan she's dating him, she already won in life

user8 THE CAPTION???? omg they're so cute🥹

user9 YNPATO AND TAYLOR GANG WE WON

user10 relationship goals for real ❤️‍🔥

user11 tired of being a spectator, I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE😭

landonorris if you three weren't that cute i'd try to steal Norbi from you

patriciooward back off, Norris 🤺 landonorris watch out, O'Ward 🤺 yourusername oh hell no mclaren arrowmclaren may i have permission to ground these kids? mclaren you may proceed 😉 patriciooward WHAT landonorris THE BETRAYAL user12 i used to pray for interactions like these 😭😭 user13 user12 we've come so far 😭 user14 WAAAAR IS OOOOVER

user15 yn's living her best life and i'm so happy for her 🤧

elbaoward I don't appreciate being left out of the photo, but I love you lovebirds anyway 💘

yourusername imma post a dump of just beautiful pics of you😘 love u elbaoward i'll be waiting then ☺️ patriciooward i also want a photo dump🥺 yourusername no 😚 user16 i want to belong to this family so bad, do you need a nanny for Norbi or anything?

user17 atp I'm just waiting for the engagement announcement

user18 same but i don't think i'll survive it user19 CAN U IMAGINE? OMG

user20 tag yourself i'm Norbi in the last pic

patriciooward te amo, preciosa ❤️

yourusername love u more, handsome 🥰 user21 AND I LOVE YOU BOTH

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65 @littlexscarletxwitch @sheslikeacurse @charlottejpg @lichterfee @callsignwidow @phantomxoxo @stinkyjax @rubywingsracing @willowpains @urfavsgf @biitch-with-wifi @lightdragonrayne @illicitverstappen @herebereblogs @tvdtw4ever @nataliambc @norwayxo

author's note: AND THAT'S A WRAP! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance💖 To my Lando girlies, don't be mad! He was a jerk in this story but I'll post another one where he gets the love he actually deserves. And to my Pato girlies, stay tuned! I plan to post more stories with him cause it's what our lovely man deserves. And if you want me to write about some other driver, feel free to send me a request! I'll see what I can do🧡 See y'all soon!

#kingofmyheart #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris f1 #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #f1 fanfiction #pato o'ward #pato o'ward x reader #pato o'ward x y/n #pato o'ward x you #pato o'ward imagine #indycar social media au #indycar #f1 #formulaone #pato o'ward fanfic #indycar fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #female!reader #f1 content creator

[reiderwriter]

Four In Some Velvet Morning

Chapter Two of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Civility in the office is equal to pettiness in all things, but when you help Spencer out in a sticky situation, it's all your mind can think about well into the early hours in the morning.

Warnings: Uncomfortable situation with a student (non-reciprocated), suggestive touching, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, soft dom! Spencer.

A/N: The second part is finally here!! I hope you enjoy the various office shenanigans of Spencer and our reader. Based on the results of our last chapter, I've made a taglist, which you can access through the link below! Have fun reading, and be sure to let me know what you think in the comments~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist~♡

You loved Mondays, or you did love Mondays when they meant only a single teaching hour and a free office to catch up on however much work you'd put off the week before.

But, like everything in your life now, Mondays were ruined by Doctor Spencer Reid.

When you and your coffee arrived at 8:45 on Monday morning, he was right there. You heaved out a sigh of frustration, and he didn't respond, so you sank into an hours worth of annoyed sighs and silence.

“Hmmph,” you huffed, standing from your desk and making your bookshelves. Still ordered alphabetically, and topically, you tried your best to look for the reference guide you'd been annotating all semester. But with no helpful guide to which topics it was that he'd used, you found yourself turning around to address your silent, unwanted companion.

“Spencer, my reference book, where is it?”

You stared blankly at him for a few minutes as you watched him trace a finger down the page he was reading. Delicately, he turned the page and resumed reading the next one, stroking the page like it was a lover in a tender moment, his fingers trailing down to offer his intimacy.

“Spencer?” You said again, and he again ignored you.

“Spencer, there's no way you're reading that fast, cut the crap and answer my question.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute. Thus, I am busy. And weren't you ignoring me?” You took a deep breath and counted to ten in your head before replying.

“I thought we were being civil, Spencer.”

“I am being civil. I'm very civil. Are you being civil, Ms. Y/N?”

“Doctor,” you spat out. “I may have only one to your three, but I did work hard for it.”

He stopped reading and looked up at you, noting the angry look on your face. Standing up quickly, he checked his watch, grabbed his bag and jacket, making sure to carefully slide the book he was molesting into his bag, and walked straight for the door.

“Spencer!” You said indignantly, and he turned back to you with a sarcastic smile, pulling the book you were searching for off the bookcase and throwing it in your direction, before stalking out of the room.

“Jackass!” You shouted behind him as he sent a wave over his shoulder.

Civility. Well, if that was his idea of civility, you could be just as civil. And you'd start by taking all of the books off of the bookshelves once again.

When three hours had elapsed and Spencer had concluded the day's work, he was disappointed to find the office empty. He didn't dwell on the feeling for long, though, as he flipped the light switch to utter chaos.

You'd pretty much gutted the entire shelf, leaving pretty piles stacked all across his desk, chair, and the floor surrounding it, making it near impossible to make his way to his desk without moving something.

The shelves weren't totally empty, though. You'd left roughly thirty books on the centre shelf, held in place by paper weights he recognised as his own acting as bookends.

A post-it was stuck to the first book.

“Ignore this,” you'd written, a lipstick kiss pressed into the paper as your only form of signature. For plausible deniability, of course. You'd never sign your name to a crime.

He sighed and lifted a hand to start taking some books down when he spotted it.

“D…o…n….t…,” he would've gotten further but for the grin spreading across his face as he read the first letter on each book spine. You'd spelt out five words, and he felt a vague sense of satisfaction knowing you'd spent so much time just trying to mess with him.

“DONT TOUCH MY SHIT, JACKASS,” you'd written. But he was absolutely going to touch your shit.

Much to his chagrin, you didn't return to the office that day, too busy with other duties to need to go back. You also wanted to give him a wide berth, hoping that he'd have time to simmer instead of immediately retaliate for all the shit you'd pulled that morning.

Which was why Spencer found himself at work at 6 a.m., getting an early start so he could see your reaction to his, honestly quite tame reply.

You'd acted like a toddler throwing toys out of your pram for no reason. And while he wasn't exactly acting mature himself, he could at least liken himself to a young child throwing the toys back in frustration.

Everything about sharing this office with you was going to be frustrating.

He opened his book again - War and Peace - and began reading through it as he waited for the sun to rise and you to arrive with it.

It was well worth it to catch the look on your face.

“Jackass,” you muttered under your breath as you walked in, coffees and pastries in hand.

He'd put the majority of the books back on the shelf in his order and system. But he'd also left out a large pile of books, blocking the narrow passage between your desk and the wall. It was taller than you and hardly stable, and since you did not want to get concussed on a Tuesday morning, there was no other route to your desk but squeezing behind his.

You huffed out a sigh, dropping what you'd hoped would be truce coffee and breakfast on his desk before standing to push past him. He blocked your way with his arm as he finished up reading a chapter.

“Password?” He asked, not looking up from his desk.

“Very funny, let me pass.”

“Incorrect,” he smiled, nodding towards the shelf where you'd left yesterday's message.

“Seriously?” You asked. His answering look supplied the answer you needed - try me.

“Don't touch my shit, jackass,” you said in a sarcastic tone, trying once again to push past. His damn arm was still too solid, and he pushed you back once again.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, but that was yesterday's password. You'll have to try again.”

Squinting down at him in confusion, you did your best not to dump his coffee over the top of his head as he nodded to the shelf again.

Your writing was still there, but one shelf down there was a new message.

“BUT… ILO…I LOVE… TOU-” You froze, your entire body going hot as you walked back over to him. He was taking a sip of his coffee, as you desperately avoided eye contact. You knew you were attractive, but you honestly didn't think that Spencer would be interested in you like that. And flirting like this, so out of the blue?

Something had to be wrong with him.

“Password?” He asked, taking another sip.

“B-But I love touching you,” you stammered out, cheeks aflame.

He somehow coughed and snorted at the same time, shooting out of his chair with wide eyes.

“More-” he coughed. “That's not… There's more.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you ran back over to the shelves, reading to what was actually the end of the message.

“But I love touching your shit,” you mumbled, and he didn't bother even raising a hand this time. He let you pass, and you sat in tense silence for the rest of the morning.

You got over the awkwardness soon, though, and began using the shelves to torture each other between classes.

You'd once replaced all three textbooks for his class with Russian language versions, back firing spectacularly as he smiled and began reading from them anyway.

He'd started putting important texts on the very top shelf and hiding the only step on the floor in some classroom or the other. Though he too had quit that when other members of staff grew frustrated at the steps disappearance.

You both kept up with the book messages.

“YOU'RE… TOO…LOUD”

“I DIDNT… DO…ANYTHING”

“YOU BREATHED”

“BOO HOO”

“COFFEE…PLEASE”

“IM NOT…YOUR…ASSISTANT”

“WITH THREE… SUGARS”

“I HOPE…. DIABETES… GETS YOU”

“SO…MATURE”

If you were being honest with yourself, you'd probably have realized that you were having a lot of fun hating Spencer Reid. Which made him a little bit harder to hate.

You wished he'd have been more mature about the whole thing, really, so you could despise him without laughing at his audacity every five minutes.

Thursday was the worst day for both of you. Thankfully, he'd taken your advice and scheduled his office hours around your classes.

What he hadn't taken into account was that on Thursdays, you had several classes on different disciplines and for different degree levels, meaning a truck load of resources you had to either cart around with you all day (impossible) or you'd have to drop into your office regularly to pick up your things.

You'd ended up in the same queue as the myriad of undergrads that were taking his course or just auditing and wanted to pick his brain on his off hours, and it was hell each time.

“God, isn't he just so fine. An 18-year age gap isn't noticeable, right?” One girl whispered to her friend as you turned the corner, books in hand, ready to use them as defence weapons should the need arise. The need to laugh and yell it was too much had you biting your tongue quickly. The man was 10 years older than even you, and even you had to pause at the age difference. These girls were practically children.

“And his hair? I just want to tangle my hair in it and pull him down to my-”

“Girls! Please remember this is a hallway, and your professors are still trying to get some work done.”

To their credit, the two first years did turn crimson in shame, sending each other panicked and dirty looks as they communicated their shared horror.

You stepped up to the small hall window at your office and peeked through the blinds.

Another student was inside with Spencer, and the panicked look on his face meant that his conversation was probably going similarly.

The students in the hall whispered and glanced at you every few seconds, and if you weren't in the biggest rush of your professional career, you'd take the time to ask them if you had something on your face.

Instead, you just tried to knock on the glass and hope Spencer would notice your plea for access.

When Spencer noticed you at the window, his eyes locked with yours, his mouth forming a simple plea as the undergrad inched closer to him.

“Help,” he mouthed.

You shrugged in reply, wondering what would possibly be so bad that he'd need your help of all things.

It was then that you noticed the undergrad had reached out a hand to play with the buttons of his jacket, stroking her hand along his chest as he cringed backwards.

You watched him take her hands off him, but she was tenacious, or just a downright creep, and she grabbed his thigh this time, pressing her chest forward. You couldn't see it yourself, but you knew from his reaction and instantly turned head that she was dangerously close to flashing him.

Or she was just doing it.

His eyes pleaded for help again, and you barged into the room with a large cough.

“Doctor Reid, if I could have a moment of your time? It's urgent.”

You dumped the books on your desk, and he jumped up to greet you, stepping out of the young students' grasp and almost shielding himself behind where you stood.

“Of course, yes, Y/N. It is urgent, so I'm sure the students will... be understanding."

He turned back to the student and gestured helpfully to show her the door, but her angry gaze was stuck on yours.

“Old ass skank,” you heard her whisper under her breath. From the hand on your arm and the furrowing of his brow you knew Spencer had as well.

“I'm sorry, what was that, Miss….?”

“Hmm? I'm sure I didn't say anything, Doctor Y/L/N.”

“You-” Spencer began but you silenced him with a hand on his chest.

Her gaze flicked to it, and she grew redder in the face, as if she were truly angry at this development. Interesting.

“Spencer,” you span around, totally ignoring the student now, wrapping your arms up and around his neck. He blinked in confusion once and then twice and hesitated, but let his hands land on your waist.

“It really is so urgent that we speak. Alone. I wouldn't want your precious students hearing anything I have to say to you.” You leaned in closer for the last words, letting your voice flow like honey, neatly seductive as you did your best to remind the student of her place.

Which was as far from a professor's bed as possible.

“She's just leaving, Y/N,” he whispered, equally as breathy as you, if not more. He didn't bother a glance over your shoulder to check, though, keeping his eyes on you as if you were a tiger preparing to pounce on him at any second.

The student grabbed her things and huffed out the door. As soon as the thing was shut, you pulled the blinds totally shut and detangled yourself from Spencer completely, giving yourself a wide berth after bringing yourself so close.

You hadn't realized how long and pretty his eyelashes were until you forced yourself to look at him, how nice his eyes were. The image of them burned into your brain - jealousy, probably. Men always had the best natural eyelashes. It was incredibly unfair.

“What the fuck was that?” You whispered, trying to contain your laugh as you knew the walls here were anything but soundproof.

“Shh,” he hissed, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to the remaining undergrads outside start talking. They obviously hadn't got the memo.

“Is this an official FBI strategy?” You teased.

“Shut up, would you? They're talking about us.”

You found yourself all of a sudden pressed against the door next to him, trying to listen in on the conversation outside.

“So it's true? He's really screwing her?” You slapped a hand over your mouth, both from shock and to stop the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest from jumping out. The girl sounded distraught. She sounded absolutely heartbroken. "The coffees every morning were suspicious, and they're always in the office so wrapped up with each other, but I didn't think they were seriously screwing."

“No wonder she was giving us dirty looks earlier,” the other girl whispered back.

“I heard he got her the job here. Pulled some strings, you know. And then, when it didn't look so suspicious, he started and asked for the shared office.”

“Gross! Total nepo hire!”

“No, Tiff, Nepo is when your parents get you the job. What she's doing is just called being a whore.”

Your mouth grew dry, and you pushed back off the wall, suddenly uninterested in anything else the girls had to say.

“Y/N…” Spencer took a sympathetic step your way, offering you an awkward smile as you started busying yourself organizing books.

“Nothing I haven't heard before, Spencer, don't bother,” you said, throwing some papers into your briefcase and keeping your hands moving.

“Though I will say they're getting more creative with their back stories since I have been working here half a year longer than you.”

He watched you work around the office, picking up items and tidying them away as you made a line of tidiness through the chaos of your desk.

“Do you think they all think that?” You asked, curiosity somehow piqued.

“That I got you the job?”

“That we’re screwing,” you said, finally turning to face him.

But the movement was a mistake - you hadn't heard him step closer, so as you turned his face was directly in front of yours, his nose practically touching your own as he looked down at you. It was enough so that the sharp intake of breath you took smelt like him, like he'd wrapped himself around your body and kept you there.

“Do you think they think we're screwing?” He asked, meaning to move away, or at least give you the space for you to do so.

“It doesn't matter to me what other people think,” you smiled up at him. “Because I wouldn't touch you with a tensed foot pole.”

You're thinking about the comment well into the evening, right until the moment your head hits the pillow.

You're thinking about the way his eyes dropped to your lips when you said those words, how he stepped closer and closer until you were backed up against the door.

“You were fine touching me earlier, Y/N. What is it now that makes it unappealing?” He whispered into your ear.

A hand came to your waist as your breath hitched.

“Is it the goosebumps I leave on your skin?” His hand pressed harder as it rose up to your chest. You gasped as he took one of your breasts in his hand, fondling it.

“Is it the way your heart beats uncomfortably hard when I'm close?”

His hand dropped again, falling down the plains of your stomach until he was stroking along the top of your pants, begging for entry.

“Or is it the way I make your cunt wet? It must be so hard pretending to hate me when you want my fingers stuffed inside of you.”

You gasped, but your tongue suddenly didn't work, as he slipped past your pants and his fingers were suddenly on your underwear, grinding the pads of his fingers against your slick pussy.

“You dont have to answer, I think I can tell just from feeling this. Shit, Y/N, I could probably slip into you right now with no resistance,” his fingers pushed inside of you as you gripped his arm for support. It was stronger than you expected, rigid as he tensed his arm.

You let him use your body, aware of your soft sighs and moans as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands were inside you, then they pulled out, and somewhere in between his fingers and his cock filling you, you'd been pressed against the bookshelf, facing it and grabbing at the shelves for stability as he made good on his promise and pushed right into you without a care in the world.

“Spenc-Spencer, the books-”

“You know the books aren't a problem, Y/N,” he groaned into your ear as he pumped deep inside of you.

But the books were a problem, and they fell to the floor with each rough thrust, vibrating as they landed.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buz-

Your eyes shot open the next day, and you jolted out of your slumber, a pillow between your legs as you tried to find your release squirming and humping against it. You reached out for your vibration phone alarm, switching it off quickly to avoid the memory of those falling books from your fast fading dream.

Spencer hadn't touched you in that office. He'd taken your comment at face value and let you leave for your class, but it had stuck in your head.

You'd spent the entire night thinking about his hands on you, and you were entirely uncomfortable with the conclusion you were drawing.

Because now, you supposed, you'd quite enjoy the idea of Spencer Reid touching you wherever he damn well pleased.

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid series #dom spencer reid

[lemotmo]

Time for some Buddie fandom positivity!

Okay Buddie fam, the last couple of weeks have really been tough for the fandom, but we're still here thriving. After all the toxicity and discourse, I think it's time to focus on the good things, all things Buddie.

I am, at this point, 100% certain that Buddie is in the works. There are a million different reasons why I am so convinced.

Here's the beginning of a list:

The pre-season Ryan and Oliver interviews where they were completely unhinged and talked so freely about Buddie.

Buck was made canonically bisexual in one single episode.

Buck's current love interest has almost no screen time, which really doubles down on the whole 'they needed a way to out Buck as bi, so they quickly brought in Tommy to fullfill that goal.'

There were talks to make Eddie queer (with Tommy).

Eddie keeps being intertwined in Buck's new romance. He is there all the time and very consistently. Even when he isn't there in body, he is there in the dialogue. To the point where the audience has picked up on it.

Maddie knows! Her 'If there is something you need to tell Eddie' convo was so interesting.

The way Buck is consistently shown as a second father to Christophere, in body and in dialogue. First he talks with Chris about Shannon and then he is also involved in his new romance with Tommy.

Both Oliver and Ryan keep getting questions about Buddie in interviews. They love answering these questions and their grins are alway so wide. It's obvious they talked about it with Tim as well at some point, because their answers are clearly rehearsed. They have been told how to navigate these questions, in order to gently introduce the idea of Buddie to the general audience. I mean, the whole 'We're open to it! Whatever happens happens!' basically screams that they are going there.

The many articles about Buddie. The interest is crazy at this point. I love it!

Buck's new romance is almost never talked about, except in the whole narrative when they talk about bisexual Buck. For the rest it's all Buddie.

The questions to these interviews are pre-approved by ABC and show runners. So the fact that they get asked all the time and they are allowed these very open answers? Very interesting!

There has been no PR around Buck's romance with Tommy. No joined interview with Oliver and Lou, no photoshoots... nothing, nada, crickets. Just Oliver repeating he would like Buck to stay friends with Tommy after they break up. I mean...

...

I'm sure there are soooo many more things that indicate that the show is finally going the Buddie-route. I just can't remember all of them. :)

So I invite all of you Buddie peeps to reblog this post to fill in any other things you want to add to the list. Feel free to add it in the main body of the reblog or even leave things in the tags. If you don't want to reblog, just leave it in the comments of this post.

Let's create and spread some Buddie positivity here. I think we can all use some of that right now.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #buddie positivity #let's do this buddie fam #let's spread some positivity #Reblog reblog reblog to make sure many Buddie peeps see this!

[svnnw]

AT MIDNIGHT — chapter 41

41) at midnight

haechan made you feel safe. there were times when it was quiet but not awkward it felt comfortable, he felt like home. looking back at the time when the both of you hung out every single day for hours made your cheeks flush red. the moments when you caught haechan staring at you or when he stroked your hair when you fell asleep made you realize that there might be a chance that he liked you back. perhaps he even has a private account to talk about you.

before you could imagine anything else haechan walked out from the bathroom while his hair was still wet making you even more flustered than before.

"haechan can i ask you something?" you asked already feeling nervous just by looking at him.

"yeah sure" he answered knowing a part of you wanted to know something about his and yunjin's history.

"are you and yunjin close?" you paused feeling bad for asking that question after he told you not to believe anything she says. "i know you told me—"

"i like you, y/n".

hearing the exact same words you wanted to tell him come out of his mouth made you realize that haechan shared the same feelings you had whenever you guys hung out.

"i've liked you ever since you wrote me that little note when i was sick or when jake commented on your post and i realized i was jealous"

"i don't want to see you with jake or jaehyun you're the only girl that's on my mind and if yunjin says—" haechan stopped when he heard someone calling out your name outside.

"y/n i thought you wanted to ski at night hurry up!!" you immediately recognized eunseok's voice and gave haechan a quick peck before you stood up to go outside again.

"i'm sorry i have to go i'll come back"

before you could hear his response you were already outside releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"she just kissed me.."

—

at midnight you went back, standing right in front of the hut you share with haechan now.

you hesistated to go in but you knew you had to because if you didn't, when will you?

as soon as you opened the door you were met with haechan sitting on his bed while he entered himself with his phone. he immediately looked up to you after he heard the door open.

"is everything okay? i thought you wanted to ski again?—"

"i like you"

"i'm sorry for running away and leaving you here without a proper answer. i just want you to know that i like you as much as you like me—"

"it's okay y/n. you don't have to rush anything, i can wait"

"no haechan, i like you a lot. i want you to know that"

time felt slow and you couldn't even remember when his hand cupped your cheek.

"y/n do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"yes hyuck, thank you for always trusting me"

masterlist – previous – next

a/n – i suck at writing but THEYRE FINALLY TOGETHER

wordcount – 0.4k

TAGLIST — open @replayenthusiast @soobiary @sunflowerbebe07 @simpforarmihn @artstaeh @marvelahsobx @clean-soap @haezyhyuck @lostinneocity @starwonb1n @minkyuncutie @gukuwii @foxy-kitsune @cyber-innie @hyuoonp @snflwrhaerecs4u @hyuckluvr-com @defzcl @n0hyuck @beomgyusonlywife @wooluvsworld @keilovr @taeeflwrr @bunnyjaycheoluwu @rllymark @haechansbbg @jaeims @amrqxz @kayleeshinee @nmlee @yyangj3lly @jising-jisang-jisung @kriizztin

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #haechan #nct haechan #lee haechan #smau #nct smau #nct dream smau #nct 127 smau #haechan smau #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #haechan imagines #nct texts #nct dream texts #nct 127 texts #haechan texts #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #haechan fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #haechan scenarios #nct x reader #haechan x reader

[echobx]

Protective!Rafe

Rafe saves reader when her dad hurts her in public and he drives her home back to his and looks after her, he cleans her cuts and she kisses him. The shower and cuddle together!

Don't hurt her or else... - Rafe Cameron × fem!reader

warnings: angst, hitting, talk about abuse, fluff, spicy talk, making out

word count: 1.2k

author's note: I tried to dabble in the post!season3 Rafe a bit, because I got so much hope for him to get better. (although I don't mind s2!Rafe either)

“That's how you're treating me? You're a brat, y/n!” your dad screams at you, and before you can brace yourself his hand meets your cheek. Your skin burns and tears threaten to stream down your face, but you are trying your best to not falter. To your surprise, he doesn't swing out for a second hit and instead composes himself as if nothing had ever happened. As if he was being watched… “Mr. y/l/n, if you don't take a step away from your daughter I'm gonna call security,” someone says from behind you before you feel a hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your skin. Your dad takes a step back, clearing his throat. “Mr. Cameron, this is a family matter. So, if you please-” “I don't. Leave. Go, before I start thinking about calling the Sheriff,” Rafe hisses at him and your dad takes his leave, but not without shooting you another glare.

It feels like you're finally able to breathe again once your dad is far enough away from you. But as soon as you stop fearing for your life, the pain kicks in. You take your hand up to touch your cheek, but Rafe stops you, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist and turning you around to face him. “Don't, we gotta clean this first,” he speaks softly, unlike you know him. Well, you don't know him, actually. You never once talked to him, only ever seen him around at the Country Club or at parties. “I'm not gonna hurt you,” he whispers and smiles. “You don't scare me,” you whisper back. Somehow you know he would never do to you what your father did, what your father had started doing and kept doing since you were twelve years old. “Is it okay if I take you home to me? Just to make sure you're alright. Clean that wound, maybe you can call a friend or…” You shake your head. “I don't really have anyone who I could stay with,” you admit and he nods.

The drive up Tannyhill is quiet, and you're somewhat glad about it. You never liked people asking questions. “Oh no, that bruise is just ‘cause I'm clumsy.” “I slipped while using a knife.” You have a thousand lies in your mind, every one as believable as the other. Especially considering how everyone else looks at your dad. The charismatic, wealthy single dad. A guy like him would never hurt his only child, especially his darling daughter that he loves so much. All of it bullshit. None of them have a clue about who he really is, and a part of you is glad they don't, because at least you have enough money to drown your sorrows.

“We're here,” Rafe notes and turns off the engine. He gets out and helps you, guiding you inside and up the stairs into a bathroom. “Fuck,” you hiss while looking in the mirror. Your father's ring has left a sharp cut on your cheekbone. “Might leave a cool scar,” Rafe quips and you snort. “Got more than enough of those.” “Sit up,” he points at the vanity, and you hop up, letting him clean the cut with a warm, damp washcloth. All the time he takes to patch you up you watch him carefully. He's handsome, blue eyes, nice jawline, the way he furrows his brows when he concentrates. His lips look soft, and for someone who is still in severe pain you really shouldn't be thinking about what it might be like to kiss him.

“Everything all right?” Rafe asks, and you snap out of it, shaking your head and collecting your thoughts. “Yes. Yeah. Everything's fine. Thank you,” you mumble and try to get up, but he holds you in place. “Y/n, I need to know. Does he do this often?” Rafe is whispering, and you try to smile. “It's not a big deal. You'd think I learned my lesson by now,” you huff a quiet laugh. “What lesson would that be?” “To not talk back. To do what I'm told and not what I want,” you reply and his face contorts as if he's in pain over your words. “I should drive you home and kill him,” Rafe hisses after turning around, his hands tugging at his hair. “You don't even know me. Why would you risk prison for me?” you ask and he spins around. “One, I do know you, we went to the same school for a while. Two, because you deserve so much better.” He steps closer again, cupping your face in his large hands, gently holding onto you. “I never thought anybody noticed me,” you hush. “I did,” Rafe breathes, his eyes darting down to your lips and a moment later he kisses you. His lips are just as soft as you imagined, and he tastes like lemon cake, which amuses you. “What?” he chuckles and smiles at you. “I like lemon cake too,” you giggle, and he kisses you another time, pulling your legs apart to stand in between them.

The soft kisses quickly turn into a sloppy make out session that leaves you both in nothing less than your underwear, but when Rafe looks down at you, he feels almost sorry again. “Don't look at me like that, please,” you whisper, trying to cover the old bruises and scars with your hands and arms. “Please, don't hide from me,” Rafe begs quietly. “Look,” he takes his arm up and shows you a burning scar. “I got some too. Not so pretty past here either, shortie.” “Hey!” you exclaim at the new nickname, but he just laughs and kisses you again. His lips travel down over your neck and farther down, ghosting over every single bruise on your body. “You didn't have to save me if all you wanted was to fuck me,” you giggle. “Oh, I'm not fucking you today,” he rasps from below before standing back up and whispering in your ear. “I wanna hear you beg for it, and then I'm still not gonna. At least not today.” “Who says I'm gonna beg,” you whisper back at him. You take a few steps towards the shower, dropping first your bra and then your slip before walking inside and turning on the steam shower. Rafe follows shortly after, but instead of trying to get a move on you, he's just holding you close.

“What are you doing?” you ask, because you truly have never met a guy who would rather comfort you than fuck you while both of you are completely naked. “I don't wanna make you feel like I'm using you,” he replies, leaning his head against yours. “Didn't think you'd be a guy like this. Always thought you were more of a frat bro,” you admit, and he pretends to be offended. “Oh, that hurt me deeply. How can you think so low of me, y/n?” “Guess I got that bi-ass,” you giggle, and he kisses the top of your head. “And she can joke. Impressive.”

Later you find yourself cuddled up next to him, your body covered in nothing more than one of his shirts, which looks huge on your figure. While Rafe has turned on some boring comedy movie to distract your mind. Soothing words and soft kisses slowly lull you into a deep sleep, and you wish you had actually met Rafe sooner.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #obx fanfiction #obx #my writing #outer banks #~fanfiction #~prompt

[thatfrailsoul]

_

Slow down for a moment. Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you and behind which image it hides... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that when you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

_

_

_

You have still so much to experience and live through, so many moments to create and feel... And yet what you got through until now left you already with so many scars and so much knowledge about how to heal and take care of ones tired heart and soul.

It's not an easy awareness to have within you. It makes your own feelings be overwhelming, so clear and much stronger then many people could bare and feel. It makes you unable to look away when others feel something, when they are the ones to feel turn apart and filled with pain. It makes you feel responsible, for you, for others, for this world... Even if you are not at all the one who causes this pain and despair around you. And it makes you hate this part of you, this gentleness and care that makes you so easy for others to use...

But while so many might have turned their back on you after using your strength and support to live through a moment, leaving you hurt and drained, sad of how often it happens again and again... Your readiness and willingness to feel so much, to understand so well and to find that one thing that could help others, is not at all something bad, a curse on your soul. It's an incredible gift, a natural call that you feel each time and can't resist. Something that so few in this world can do and really handle. Something that you should be proud of, regardless of the way others thank you or decide to take it for granted and to ignore. Because even if they are not with you, even if they might not understand or appreciate what you did for them, perhaps even misunderstanding it and feeling somehow hurt... They still live. They still overcame that storm. Healed that wound. They are still able to make further steps in this world. All thanks to you and to your gift of knowledge and feelings, and your courage to share it with others. To help through such powerful love and gentleness, that not anyone has the strength to embody and carry in this world.

P.s. This reading was requested for free by one of my followers - and you can do it too! If you have any question, wander, curiosity or concern... send me your suggested topic through this link down below, and we will take a deeper look at what we can and need to know about it.♡

PLEASE NOTE: I'm both here and on tiktok, and I post on each social different types of readings and requests. So when sending me your suggestion please write in the "NAME" section "Tumblr" so you can be sure that your reading will be posted where you can find it - or follow me on both socials so you can access all my readings and show me your support!♡

_

_

You just can sense it. You can feel it under your skin... The moment something shifts and hides a danger, a truth that for anyone but you is hidden in plane sight.

So often you try to shake it off, perhaps thanks to so many advices and kind and helpful" opinions of others that convince you that its simply all your mind... But it never goes away does it? Even when you try so hard to not listen, your heart continues to whisper and warn you, guide you, past many situations and people that don't have at all your best in mind.

Some call it overthinking, trauma, deep fear and negative expectations about the way this world can treat you. Ohters call it intuition, inner knowledge, angels guarding you behind your back... But the truth is much deeper and sweeter. Hidden in everything you overcame all on your own, the battles you won not against the others, but against your own mind that was so mean to your poor heart. You protected it your protected your self every single time, no matter how hard it was to be able to see the truth and work on the subtle ways others and even your own self tried to manipulate you and hurt you. And now... Tha part of you knows and remembers it. Giving you back that love and care, that protection that you had the courage to give yourself, by guiding you thanks to an incredible power. The power that you on your own created and gifted to yourself.

_

P.s. This reading was requested for free by one of my followers - and you can do it too! If you have any question, wander, curiosity or concern... send me your suggested topic through this link down below, and we will take a deeper look at what we can and need to know about it.♡

PLEASE NOTE: I'm both here and on tiktok, and I post on each social different readings and requests. So when sending me your suggestion please write in the "NAME" section "Tumblr" so you can be sure that your reading will be posted where you can find it - or follow me on both socials so you can access all my readings and show me your support!♡

_

_

It is not at all easy to deal with one's tired, confused, sometimes angry and furious mind. It's not at all easy to face it, try to calm it, looking for something positive, something that is worth to keep going, each time your mind screams how it's all useless and wrong. It's not easy to speak it's language, to be courageous enough to look each time deeper and be willing to understand where all that hate comes from... But you did it, again and again. Standing up for yourself, fighting, even when your worst and strongest enemy was your own insecure and vulnerable mind. You found, you find, again and again the motivation, reasons, to go further. To continue this life, these journeys, even if it means doing it one slow and challenging step at a time. You face it all and you overcome it.

Demonstrating each day to your mind how there is no need to be so scared and loud about it. That you can, indeed, have faith in yourself and be proud of each day that you live through moving forward. It is not easy. But you are able to do it again and again, despite it all. You are able to tap into the incredible power of your heart, of hope and faith, of the courage, and use it to help yourself. And to remind your mind and others that nothing is impossible. And that even the scariest and darkest nights can be faced with the light of our soul and the love for our own selves, that deserve to come out of it and experience all that this world and life has in store.

P.s. This reading was requested for free by one of my followers - and you can do it too! If you have any question, wander, curiosity or concern... send me your suggested topic through this link down below, and we will take a deeper look at what we can and need to know about it.♡

PLEASE NOTE: I'm both here and on tiktok, and I post on each social different readings and requests. So when sending me your suggestion please write in the "NAME" section "Tumblr" so you can be sure that your reading will be posted where you can find it - or follow me on both socials so you can access all my readings and show me your support!♡

_

_

#thatfrailsoul #thatfrailsoul tarot #thatfrailsoul message #thatfrailsoul guidance #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarot community #divination #oracle #spirituality #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a pile reading #pick a pile tarot #pick an image #pac #pac reading #psychic abilities #psychic #powers #magic #answers #awareness #intuition #higher self

[mhathotfic]

Based on this post it was really fun to explore the concepts in this one

If you liked it please consider leaving a small tip through my cash app I'm trying to save up for nail tech classes and every little bit helps

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, reader is bullied briefly at the beginning, oral(female receiving), afab reader with she/her pronouns, vaginal fingering and penetration, omegaverse

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

“H-hey! Stop!” (Yn) yelled, knowing her pleas would fall on uncaring ears as the pack of girls shoved into someone’s room.

“Oh stop crying! We’ll let you out soon, probably”

She could practically hear the dismissive shrug and cruel smirk the leader of that little click likely gave.

“I guess that depends on how long Bakugou’s workout takes, you know how Alphas are! It'll probably only be an hour, maybe two? Hope he believes you when you tell him you weren't trying to steal from him!” they laughed, jamming the door shut and leaving (Yn) alone with nothing but her thoughts in the seemingly empty, strong-smelling room.

What did she do to deserve this? Whatever it was it couldn’t possibly warrant anything like this!

She was just a simple Omega, just trying to get a good education so she could get a good job, what did she do wrong to earn such scornful treatment?

Why di—

“The hell are you doing here?”

A heavy, labored, and husky voice sounded from behind her. She froze, her own voice trapped in her throat as she turned towards it to find the Alpha in question rising from his bed. His face flushed and hard to read as he observed her.

He knows her, well sort of? She's in a few of his classes. Always sticking to the corners of the room hoping no one noticed her, but he had.

He took note of every detail, head to toe, from the way her hair fell and complimented her face to the way she walked with a little sway in her hips.

He had wanted to talk to her at least once before his rut had started, but he never got the chance, and now that choice had been taken from them both.

“I uh, I don't know? I got s-shoved in here a-and.…” she stammered and rambled, getting his attention again.

But he couldn't focus on her words though. Her strawberries and cream scent was too sweet and distracting for him to ignore. In a desperate attempt to stave off his growing lust for the oblivious Omega, he tried to subtly palm himself quietly but he groaned at the contact making her jump.

He sounded pained, and her Omega instincts kicked in and brought her to his side quickly to see what was wrong and if she could help.

It was the biggest mistake she could have made. As soon as she was near, she could smell the scent of a frantic, rutting Alpha. It quickly became apparent the type of danger she was in quickly, but not as quick as Bakugou was.

He, in a matter of seconds, had torn through her clothes. Too far gone to ask any more questions or explain himself, too out of it to even notice her fearful begging for him to reconsider his actions.

All he could hear was that pleading tone and god was it easy to imagine that pretty voice begging him to breed her. A pretty little sound that made his knot twitch and ache. God, he needs to breed her.

He has to, needs to so badly, he couldn't stop himself when she smelled so danm good. He was going to breed her, but first, he had to make sure she was ready for him.

He shuddered at the thought, pinning her hips to his bed before laving his tongue over her sex, trying to put a taste to the sugary scent. This was the pussy he’d own. The one his Omega was in possession of. His, all his and he’ll make sure she knows it.

It didn’t matter that he’d never introduced himself properly to her, there’s plenty of time to know his mate better after this.

She tried to get him to stop. Squirming in his grip and tugging at his hair in a futile attempt to get him away from her, as she whimpered “Please, don’t”.

Only to be interrupted by a growl and a finger pushed into her already sopping wet cunt.

In his lust-altered state, her actions seemed like she was just impatient. Her plea was easily written off as her trying to beg him not to be a tease.

“Fucking god, you’re so damn wet, you want it bad don’t you?” he groans adding a second finger, and it must have sounded like some sort of sick taunt to her. His fingers thrusting and rubbing against her inner walls, unwanted and unwavering, but pleasurable in a way that felt like the deepest betrayal.

Her body was welcoming his actions and he seemed to be enjoying his perverse power over her. His lips pressed against her clit, kissing it before sucking and licking on the sensitive little bundle of nerves.

Pushing her closer to the edge of ecstasy. Closers to the cliff’s edge that she didn’t think she’d survive if she fell from it. It’d leave her broken, useless, and unable to fight his advances, but could she fight this anyway?

He seemed to have no problem overpowering her, seemed unbothered by her begging and feeble attempts to tug him off of her.

Should she just accept her fate? Should she just let herself fall apart and be his toy for the time being?

Her body felt hot and the little bit of internal thread he’s been toying with tangled, knotted, and pulled tighter and tighter until it snapped with a sobbing cry and blanking mind.

She clung tightly to him, not bothering to fight him when he kissed her and lined his thick cock with her entrance. Too far gone to even think about fighting this.

“P-please, at least be gentle with me, I um… I’ve never—”

“You’re still a virgin?” he cut her off, the gravity of their situation finally settling in his mind and he would have backed off. Apologizing profusely for how he behaved, how he let himself be taken by his rut.

She was probably waiting until she was more established to find herself a mate, and in a moment of selfish desperation he almost ruined her. He really did want to back off and let her go but…

“I— d-don’t you want me?”

But her instincts had kicked in and his hesitation must have read as rejection because she looked hurt.

Why did it hurt? She hadn’t wanted this, she didn’t want this!

But it hurts, it hurts so bad, tears started to prick up at her lashes.

Her body was going into heat because of him, and now he doesn’t want her?!

She was being rejected! She was being refused as an Omega and it hurts so much! Why would he be so cruel?

In reality, he doesn’t know what he was meant to do, he was no good at this.

No good at consoling words or gentleness, but he was good at expressing himself through his actions.

So he silenced her with one smooth roll of his hips, sinking into her until he was buried to the hilt.

Forcing back his growl and letting out a deep rumble of a purr in an attempt to assure her she would be safe sharing this first with him. He was determined to stay in control of his body through this, to touch her the way she wanted him to.

He was determined to force himself to be gentle, to slow his thrusts and take his time with her and…

“A-alpha”

Oh fuck.

He swallowed thickly, his pace quickening slightly. He didn’t know if he could keep this gentle facade for her if she wouldn’t even put up a fight against him. She’s being too accepting, too cute for him not to ruin thoroughly.

“I-it feels good! Feels— aha!”

Fuck it.

He took up the ruthless pace he was much more accustomed to and moved a hand to play roughly with her clit and a growl slipped out passed his lips. He couldn’t hold back after all, no, it was more like he just wouldn’t anymore.

He was allowing himself to get drunk off her whimpers and moans, taking pleasure from her blank and dazed expression as she practically crumbled under him.

“Are you, fuckin’ hell, you going to cum already?” He breathed against her ear, groaning at the resulting shiver that wreaked her body.

“You’re clenching around me so tightly, you wanted me to fuck you senseless like this, huh? Wanted to cum my knot, didn’t you?”. He grunted and she couldn’t find the words to respond.

She hadn’t wanted this at first, but now? She didn’t want to want this, but her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, and her nails clawed into his back of their own accord, her mouth ran without hesitation or thought.

“Please! Want it so bad! I want your knot Alpha!”.

She cried out and was silenced with a kiss and the overwhelming sensation of being pushed past the edge and stuck in that blissful free fall as he knotted her.

They stayed tied for what felt like hours before he could safely pull out. In truth it was only minutes, but the conversation they needed to have afterward made the wait unbearable.

Only for it to be as simple as explaining how she ended up trapped in with him, and a promise that he’ll never stop working to earn her forgiveness for this. Because no, it doesn’t matter how this happened or ended, he still did something awful to her and he won’t forgive himself until he’s made sure she’s living a happy fulfilling life with him.

The first step is tearing the heads off her soon-to-be former bullies.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader smut #katsuki x reader smut #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader smut #tw non con #tw dubious consent #tw omegaverse #tw bullying

[extemts]

Since you asked, I will be here kindly dropping an ask for a request to write something for Joost.

Do you do sweet jealousy? Where the reader is jealous? Nothig toxic obviously 😂

For example where now that he is gaining more love from people, and thus more attention from girls too, the reader pouts when he talks to this girl who approached him and she is a bit more touchy feely with him? While she is understanding and happy for him, naturally the jealousy can't be hold back.

Or whip something up that just flows from your imagination 😌

Thank you in advance!

Mwah 💋

Well, my boyfriends pretty cool, you will never reach him.

I love this one!! I always think about this ngl. People cross boundaries a lil too much, so this is your reminder to be aware of your surroundings.

requested? yes!

reader? gender neutral!

genre? jealousy, eventual fluff

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Cold post show beers, breezy hangouts behind the venue, thank you's being exchanged, it was all routine at some point. After his shows someone would get some cold beer while the crew enjoyed the nice breeze outside the venue after the show, just for everyone to cool down, especially Joost. You however stayed rather quiet today, your red hands wrapping around the ice cold bottle, the look in your eyes rather empty as you stare at your boyfriend and those girls next to him.

Unfortunately the area behind the venue seemed to be easily accessible to everyone, and while you were always happy for him to have fans that care so much, it would get hard to watch from time to time. He would never decline a photo with a fan, or an autograph, even the countless gifts he regularly got unless he was genuinely unwell, but the dutch singer was still high on adrenaline and already quite drunk, so he basically welcomed the group of girls with open arms, ready to listen to them. Typically this would really never be an issue, most people knew about your relationship and always supported it, even though you never made it public, so sometimes you were even asked to be in the photo along with them, but this particular group of girls seemed to be completely oblivious to the concept of personal space. One of them seemed particularly interested in him- she must have been your age aswell, at least the tattoos you could see on her body told you quite clearly that she was a grown woman. If it would have been a fourteen year old fangirl or something, you might have been able to excuse it.

There she stood, that grin on her face as she runs her fingers over the tattoos on Joost's arm, talking about how he looks oh so good with them. She kept getting more physical in subtle yet somehow obvious ways, to the point where he started looking awfully uncomfortable too, especially by the time he shot a glance at you only to see that pout and the empty look in your eyes as you stare at them. "Any plans after the show? You must be celebrating the end of your tour. I know a really cool club just around the corner, maybe I'll see you there." she eventually let her fingers drift off of his arm as she gives him one last little wave before leaving with her friends, still giggling carelessly like she didn't have a worry in the world. Once he was free of her again, you felt Joost sitting down next to you, your eyes piercing through the ground until he wrapped his arm around you, making you look up at him again. "I'm sorry sweetheart, some people don't know boundaries..." he whispers as not to pull the attention of the rest of the crew on you, somehow making the accent in his voice even more prominent by doing so. He leans in and starts posting soft kisses along your jawline, knowing damn well this is a ticklish spot for you.

It cheered you up, made you chuckle again before pushing his face away with your hand, trying to break free from the tickling feeling. "Now don't just push me away!" he starts acting all offended, gasping at your behavior before he goes right back to attacking your face with a swarm of soft little pecks all over, his arms wrapped around you so you truly have no way of escaping, if you even wanted that.

okaaaay lets go

#joost klein #joost klein fanfiction #joost #joost klein x reader #fanfiction #eurovison song contest #europapa

[deception-united]

I HATE YOUR WRITING TIPS, ONE MORE POST AND SCREW IT, IM BLOCKING *AND* REPORTING YOUR PAGE. IM FED UP WITH THESE INEFFECTUAL WRITING TIPS. HOW DO YOU THINK EDGAR ALLEN POE, AND EVEN SHAKESPEARE WROTE? THEY DIDNT HAVE TUMBLR AND NO 'cute little writing tips for your help!' I DEEM EVERY MODERN DAY WRITER A CHEAT AND I HOPE WHATEVER YOU'RE WRITING FAILS. YOU IMBECILE OF A WRITER.

Hi, thanks for asking! Writers like Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare used many techniques in their writing which might help you out. Here are a few tips:

Use metaphors: Employing figurative language can help paint vivid images in the readers' minds and facilitate the comprehension of more complex themes and ideas. For example, in Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare compares love to a rose—while it is lovely to the eye, its thorns can cut deep.

Choice of impression: Know what you want the desired effect of your writing to be in advance. Having decided the impression you want to leave on your readers before you start can help when figuring out the tone and conflicts throughout the story. Poe, for instance, focused mostly on the gothic genre with themes of death that inspired feelings of terror, despair, and suspense.

Know your audience: Who are you targeting? Determining factors such as the age range your work is for and what message you want to leave them with is crucial so that readers find your writing relatable and engaging.

Choose the setting wisely: In Poe's own words, "a close circumscription of space is absolutely necessary to the effect of insulated incident." Though the setting—of the entire book and for each scene—is often viewed as trivial, or at least of secondary importance, it is important to know why you're putting the characters where you are.

Use soliloquies: A soliloquy is a dramatic monologue in which a character speaks their thoughts aloud, typically while alone on stage, revealing their inner feelings to the audience. This can often be seen in Shakespeare's works, such as in Hamlet, where the title character begins with "To be, or not to be: that is the question," contemplating life and death.

Thank you for voicing your concerns! I wholeheartedly agree that I am not a real writer, merely an illusion. This is the last you'll see of me, I'm afraid. Feel free to ask any more questions, and thanks for 1800 followers—almost to two thousand! Love you all ❤

#ask #anon hate #writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing resources #creative writing #deception-united #goodbye everyone #it was nice knowing you #abandoning my blog