#I wrote this because I'm procrastinating horribly

[ellieslaces]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham

synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(

notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)

word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)

chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)

now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex

It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.

For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.

But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.

Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.

Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.

You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.

So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.

From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.

There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.

Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.

Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.

However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.

Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.

Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.

You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.

Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together

If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.

If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.

And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.

Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.

Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.

“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.

“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.

“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.

“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.

You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”

At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.

It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.

The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.

“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.

“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.

“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.

The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.

A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.

"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.

"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.

"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."

“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”

“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.

“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.

Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.

“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”

“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”

“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.

“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”

“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.

Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”

You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”

Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.

“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.

“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.

“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”

“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.

“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.

But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.

Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.

“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.

“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.

“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.

“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.

“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.

Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.

Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”

“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.

Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.

Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.

“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.

Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.

Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”

“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.

You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”

“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.

It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?

“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.

“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.

Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.

“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.

“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”

“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.

“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.

Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.

So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.

You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.

Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.

“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.

“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.

She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.

“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.

You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.

“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”

“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.

Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.

“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.

“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.

“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”

You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.

“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.

“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.

“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”

Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.

“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.

“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.

You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”

The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.

So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.

There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.

You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.

With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.

The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.

The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.

A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.

Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).

Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.

Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.

“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.

“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.

“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.

Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.

There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.

You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.

With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.

She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.

The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?

Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.

These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.

“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.

She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.

After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.

Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.

You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.

“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.

Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.

Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.

“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.

“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.

You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”

“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.

“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.

This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.

“No, because it's you.”

You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”

Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”

“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.

“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”

You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”

“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.

“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.

Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.

You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.

Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.

Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.

Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.

Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.

Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”

“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?

“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.

“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.

“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.

Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

[emptywwwriting]

Morning Patrol

Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem! reader

Summary: It's your first patrol shift since you joined Jackson. When your friend, Jesse, calls out sick you have to go on the patrol alone with Joel Miller.

Warnings: Horrible Writing, HUGE age gap (33 years LOL), reader smokes cigs,  reader is also lowkey a horse girl (shut up), smut will be added, edited this @ 3am sry for mistakes lol, no use of y/n

A03 Link: Morning Patrol

Word Count: 3.8k omg...

First writing ever. I'm sorry if it sucks LOL. I wrote this because I’ve been replaying TLOU2 and it re-awoken my love for these characters.

Idk if I will make this a story or not, it depends on the feedback I get. Correct my grammar/spelling if you see anything wrong, feedback is much appreciated. Also, this is a no-Ellie AU not for any reason, in particular, I just didn’t know how to combine her storyline into this. Please read the warnings!!

It's freezing this time of year, cold frosted winds that are carried by the slopes of the mountains swirl the small town of Jackson, freezing everything over. Even the small wooden stove that usually warms your bones isn't cutting it. Yet you have to stop your eyes from fluttering close while you sit next to the open flame. With only your undergarments to cover you, you're balled up as small as possible sitting on the floor next to the heat. Your alarm had gone off 15 minutes ago, but you’d been procrastinating since. It’s your first patrol shift ever since Jackson took you in nearly 4 months ago. This idea was suggested, rather drunkenly, by Tommy at a bonfire just last week.

…

“It’s about time you start pulling your weight here,” Tommy mumbled with a beer resting on his lips, tilting his head towards you.

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze angrily.

Jesse had arranged a get-together by a bonfire following a town event, inviting Tommy, Joel, Dina, and a few other lookout guards. The hangout was calm, warm, and cozy, with everyone sitting around enjoying their drinks, sharing funny stories, and discussing unusual experiences. As a fairly new member of the town, you were unfamiliar with most of the people there. Jesse, who had played a key role in bringing you into Jackson, made sure to introduce you to Dina, with whom you had formed a close bond. She introduced you to the wonderful team of people who manage all of the horses that Jackson uses. Having grown up around animals, and having extensive knowledge of them, you felt right at home. 

However, not everyone was as friendly. Tommy, in particular, seemed to have a strong dislike for you. Ever since the night shift had found you, he had been suspicious of your presence in the town. Tommy constantly questioned you about your past, making you feel like a criminal rather than a newcomer just trying to fit in. While you understood the need for caution in a town as advanced as Jackson, Tommy's suspicions seemed to linger longer than necessary, this pissed you off. Despite your efforts to become a part of the community and form relationships with Jackson’s people, his distrust towards you made it difficult. You couldn't help but feel like an outsider, even when you are trying to enjoy a casual gathering. 

Jesse let out a cough next to you in an attempt to break the tension. Tommy’s brother, sitting next to him, didn't look away from his bottle, staring awkwardly into the brown glass. Jesse adjusted himself upright in his chair and began.

“I mean you can always come with us on a morning patrol shift… if you feel like it of course,” he added quickly, before staring into his own beer bottle.

You hummed in response. 

Still mad at Tommy, you shoot him another hidden glare before finishing your drink quickly.

“I think it would be a good start for you, hell of an early shift but usually a quiet one.” He looks over at you. “Just me and Joel now, another person couldn't hurt.” Jesse finishes.

Tommy's brother, Joel, grunts from across the fire agreeing.

You stare into the open flame thinking about his words.

“You up for it?” Jesse prods.

“Yeah, I'll do it.” You reply.

Tommy lets out a huff but you choose to ignore it. 

Still basking in the awkwardness from Tommy's comment, Dina and Jesse yawn and start collecting their stuff murmuring their goodbyes to the rest of the group surrounding the fire. Tommy and Joel stomp out the flames before falling into quiet conversation, as you follow Dina and Jesse towards the housing strip.

…

You finally force yourself to get up, the cold air wraps around your body as the stove's heat leaves your skin, you quickly get dressed. Sliding your thickest sweatshirt over your head and thick pants onto your legs. Stepping into your boots, you grab a beanie, gloves, and your backpack, making sure that your revolver is with you. After extinguishing the stove's flame, you exit your house and start down the quiet road.

You thought that things were quiet at night, they are even more quiet at four in the morning. Not a soul is awake at this hour, you've never seen the streets of Jackson so still. None of the town's Edison bulbs were on, only the occasional lamp that came from a house's window illuminated your path. Your mind wanders to the patrol, and you recall how just yesterday Jesse called out sick. A horrible stomach flu had torn its way through Jackson, particularly the school kids and teachers. Jesse got it after participating in a snowball fight with the school children, and Dina was now stuck taking care of him.  You had been sick with it nearly a week ago, the aftereffects still haunting your body. Your stomach gurgled with hunger, feeling as if it had sunk in. Chills racked your body at night, but you had no fever and could keep food down, sometimes. You didn't want to leave Joel to do the patrol alone, even though you know he could.

You have never talked with Joel before, just knew of him. His gruffness made itself apparent when he entered a room. He is a very respected man in the small town and it makes you feel like you know him to an extent. You have to admit that his large size and powerful aura make you slightly scared of him, yet it intrigues you even more. You often catch yourself staring at his aged and calloused hands gripping a beer bottle, or while cleaning his gun, and would have to force yourself to look away; But for such a strong and large man he was so quiet. It made you nervous to go on patrol with him. It's not that you dread the patrol itself, nor does it mean you don't want to be alone with him, but you dread the awkwardness of it.

You are both very quiet people, it's bound to get awkward. With someone chatty like Dina, you could rely on her for conversation for hours, and there would never be a dull moment. But with Joel? Who knows.

Finally, you arrive at the greenhouses which are next to the exit of Jackson. In the moonlit shadows, you see Joel, hand near his mouth, a lit cigarette between his fingers. The tip of the cigarette glowing red illuminating his face in an auburn glow. The sight makes your stomach flip, or maybe it's the virus. He catches your eye as you approach, now a few feet from him.

“Mornin.” He mumbles, voice groggy with sleep.

“Morning” You offer back sounding weak.

His peppered beard nearly sparkles in the dim light, his nose sculpting his face beautifully. Towering over you even at a distance.

Fuck he’s hot.

“We should head out a little early today so I have time to show you all our check-in spots,” He says after another puff.

“Sounds good to me!” You say eagerly, slightly embarrassed at your peppiness. 

He tosses the cigarette into the snow, before stepping on it with his boot, turning away from you and towards the gate. You're suddenly very thankful for Jesse's illness, given now you get to be alone with possibly the hottest man you have ever seen. 

Fumbling for the key he unlocks the gate, before having to open a set of precautionary doors, that you remember entering just a few months ago after night patrol found you nearly dead.

“Watch your step.” Joel throws back at you as you exit the final gate and start up a path of icy rocks.

“Got it.” You retort.

Looking up you can see the moonlit glow of the frozen rocks, a long path up into the cover of the forest. It's eerie, too quiet, and too steep. You would not know what to do without Joel here. Even though his presence puts your mind at ease, it's still terrifying while dark. You had almost forgotten what it's like to not be in Jackson. A whole year of struggling to survive on your own forgotten in a handful of months.

I’m spoiled. You think.

You know Jackson has spoiled you but it's not like you don't deserve it.

 The thoughts of your life before, outside the walls of Jackson, creep into your mind and you become nauseous.

“How long will we be out here?” You ask, trying to get your mind back to Joel.

“Well-” He sighs. “Depends on how many stragglers we have to get through. If the weather holds up and there's nothing out of the blue, the whole watch will be about 8 hours.” 

“Eight hours?” You repeat shocked.

“Yep, a whopping eight hours.” He says sarcastically. “Forget how you outbreak, kids never worked a normal job.” He chuckles to himself.

“I was born as soon as the outbreak started, I think that's hard enough.” You say smiling. He huffs.

“I’d take eight-hour shifts over an infection any day.” You smile.

“Yeah me too.” He replies.

It's quiet again and the awkward tension seeps back in making you more uneasy. The sound of his boots crunching the snow under him fills the air, and you're now closer to the woods. You follow Joel a few feet back, studying his frame while he can't see you. 

Why can’t you think of anything to say and why is he so quiet? You pray for Joel to say something, anything, and when he doesn't, you force yourself to talk.

“Do you like your shifts with Jesse?” 

“Jesse's good, a little woman crazy but he's fine. At least he's a good shot.” He lets out a huff.

“Yep, that sounds like Jesse.” you smile to yourself.

The conversation goes silent again and you begin to wonder if it's just this awkward in your head. The path evens out as you enter the brush, and Joel turns his flashlight on, illuminating the now even darker path. As the forest thickens the moon becomes less and less of a help, your eyes strain, trying to make out the terrain. 

Crunch Crunch Crunch

Focusing on the sounds of snow and wind you space out, now trying to ignore the awkwardness between you.

“How old did you say you were?” 

you didn't 

Joel asks awkwardly.

“Twenty-five.” You reply, 

“Jesus.” He says under his breath.

“How old did you say you were?” You ask playfully.

He laughs, seemingly embarrassed.

“Too old.” He says shortly.

You laugh and begin walking closer behind him. When finally in the complete cover of the woods Joel climbs up onto a large rock, one nearly bigger than you. After getting himself up right, he reaches a hand down to you. He looks majestic like this, so tall above you looking down with a rough and large hand extended. Even his thick wool coat can't fully conceal how large his biceps and chest are. You want to take a picture of him. 

Him saying your name, snaps you back into reality, grabbing his hand quickly, he hoists you up onto the rock. His powerful tug launches you faster than you expected. Your foot lands on a chunk of ice and you slip slightly before he holds you up with the hand he was holding. Dangling from his strong  grip you quickly try to find some kind of footing grunting in pain.

His other hand comes down to the collar of your clothing grabbing it and pulling you up. You reach for his arms for stability and take a breath before opening your eyes to look up at him. You're a mess, knees weak, one arm on his bicep the other on his flexed forearm staring up at him like a hurt puppy. You snap your head back down and release him, brushing yourself off. He slowly lets go of your jacket collar and hand before huffing out a chuckle

“Told you to be careful.” He beams down at you.

Your face is so red it's warming you in contrast to the freezing night air.

“Not my fault you flung me over the rock.” You laugh lightly looking down to hide your face. Not only were you red but you are trying to hide the grimaces you are making from the shooting pain in your ankle.

“Whatever you say darlin'.” He laughs.

And, oh that made your stomach do actual flips. You freeze as he starts down the path again, you're trying to comprehend the nickname, and why it sounded so good coming from his lips.

Darlin’....

 Shaking your head you follow after him promptly. The wind picks up and your hair starts whipping onto your already red cheeks. It is cold, and the wind makes you feel even more miserable. Joel's hair, which had only grown since you joined Jackson, moved in the crisp breeze, he seemed to notice the wind picking up, and he started walking faster.

“I think we are getting caught in a storm.” He says defeatedly, pushing forward into the dark night. 

Your heart drops as you push to keep up with the older man who is somehow faster than you, your ankle screaming at you to stop.

“Let's turn back.” You suggest sighing, you pause for a moment to take the weight off of your foot. 

This earns a quick,

“No, too far back, we are closer to the first check-in.” His voice becomes more strained as the terrain gets more steep and the wind picks up. You quickly start following after him again, in a limp.

“How much further?” 

“Half a mile.” Joel quips.

“Focus on the trail. The wind is getting stronger, we have supplies at the check-in and can camp out there until day shift comes.” 

His strong legs take large strides up the mountain. You continue to follow, the wind nearly knocking you over at some points. The gusts of icy air start picking up fallen snow, blurring everything in a cloud of white dust. Your ankle only seems to be feeling worse as each twist and turn gets harder and harder to trek. In a panic, you grab Joel's backpack so as not to lose him. He yells something at you about the path you think, but you can't hear, the wind is screaming in your ears too loudly. Your ankle feels warm. Twigs and branches snap, each making you jump, you slip only slightly, catching yourself before continuing hot on Joel's trail. Your knuckles are white from the grip you have on his bag. Frozen in place. 

Finally, you see the outline of a shed, Snow, and ice slinging into the side of it from the wind. You see the back of Joel's head raise as he spots the structure before his pace picks up even more and you're practically being dragged. Noticing this he blindly reaches back, taking hold of your forearm and dragging you to the front of him, his warm chest pressed against your back. The wind slams into him, blocking it from you. He pushes you slowly, now noticing your limp. Step by step you make your way to the wooden shed. You hear him breathing ruggedly in your ear, your gasp and breaths fill the air along with his. Finally at the door moving you to the side yet not taking his hands off you he opens the door and shoves you inside. The sound of whirling wind, snow, and branches snapping disappears outside of the dark room, muffling the chaos nearly completely. 

Joel puts a large wood plank in the shed's lock and takes a deep breath before turning to you. He looks you up and down.

“You okay? You slipped a few times pretty good back there.” He sighs trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I think I'm good.” You breathe deeply and try to think. “I twisted my ankle a little though.” You sigh.

Throwing down your heavy bag you plop down on the dirt floor next to it. You definitely did something more than twist it because the pain is radiating up into your knee, making it hard to hide your discomfort. 

Inside the shed is small, there's enough room for you, Joel, and a small stove with a plastic crate filled with what looked like ammo and food and first aid, underneath it. Joel looks down at you and you meet his gaze. The feeling of his chest against your back lingers on your skin and in your thoughts. You push your thighs together and look away, hoping he can't read your mind. He kneels in front of you grabbing your ankle suddenly.

“Shit!” You hiss trying to pull your leg back up to your body.

He takes hold of your leg again, this time underneath your knee. You move around trying to find a comfortable position.

“Stop squirming, I need to look at your ankle.”

As he wishes you hold as still as possible as he pulls your pant leg up and begins to untie your boot. Gently he slides off the shoe and pulls your sock off halfway. Unveiling your ankle beat red and swollen. Joel cringes at the sight of it and gently puts your leg back on the ground. Reaching behind himself he grabs the plastic tote and opens it looking for what you assume to be painkillers.

“It's really not that bad, I'll be okay, just need to lay off it for a bit.” You sound defeated.

“We have pain killers in here, you can-” 

You cut him off “I'm okay, and I'm not wasting Jacksons supplies.”

He looks at you, at your ankle, and then slowly up your body. 

“You're not going to be able to walk back down with that.” He says.

You go to disagree with him but you stop yourself because you know he's right, there's no way in hell.

“Im sorry, I-” 

“Not your fault.” He cuts you off and places the small crate at your legs for you to prop your foot on.

“I know I just- I feel like the town already doesn't like me, hell I know Tommy doesn't. And I just don't want to be a problem.”

“Tommy’s a paranoid old man,” He begins. “I love my brother but his suspicions get the best of him sometimes, he loves Jackson, and wants to keep it safe, don't take it personal kid.” His eyes show you his sincerity, and you look down, still ashamed.

He looks up at you saying nothing sympathy written across his face. He groans as he gets up from his knees now looking down at you, examining.

“I hope day shift brings up a horse. We gon’ have to carry you if not.” 

You cringe at the thought of the issues you're causing but know he's right.

“As for this storm,” He walks around the room and cracks the door open slightly before having to slam his body on it to get the wind to stop pouring through. 

“Yeah-” He breathes heavily, locking the door back. “That's gonna hold up for a while.” He puts his fingers on the bridge of his knows like he's trying to figure out what to do.

Joel then spends the next twenty minutes doing something you may call nesting. As you watch, you can sense the anxiety pouring off him. He paces back and forth, seemingly unable to calm down. While he doesn't say anything, the worried look on his face speaks for him. It's as if he's trying to distract himself from the nervousness that looks to be consuming him. He checks and double-checks the locked door, and starts a fire in the small stove, he meticulously tends to it. The pacing continues, with Joel occasionally glancing at the door, as if expecting the weather to magically change.

At this point you're lying on the ground head on a Joel’s pack, just staring into the fire.

“Jesus sit down Joel.” You finally tell him, getting tired just from watching him.

He pauses his pacing and looks at you as if he didn’t know he was even doing it. Mumbling an apology, he walks over to you and sits against the wall a foot or two from your head. You two sit in silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle what sticks were left in there, while the wind whistles through the small shed.

“You got any more of those cigarettes you had earlier?” You ask shyly, like you are doing something bad. You meet his gaze craning your neck up while he looks down confused and surprised.

“Didn't know you smoke” He huffs, reaching into the backpack under your head, he grabs a small white beat-up box and pulls from it, a neatly home-rolled cigarette.

You hum, admiring his strong hands digging through the box.

“Don't tell on me.” You smile looking at him sheepishly. He rolls his eyes before sticking the cigarette in his mouth and bringing a match to the end of it, lighting it and inhaling deeply. Taking it from his mouth he brings the cigarette to your lips until you open them, sticking it between them. Your stomach does cartwheels as he focuses on your lips wrapped around the smoke. Inhaling deeply you lock eyes, staring back into his. He takes the cigarette in front you and lets it rest in his hand as you both exhale.

“How long until they come for us?” You sigh after gently taking the cigarette from Joel’s hand and sticking it in your mouth again.

“Day shift starts at 1:30, and it’s still dark out,” He takes the smoke from you and takes a drag before exhaling.

“So we still have a while sweetie.”

You hide the smile that forces its way to your face by adjusting your body so that your head is now closer to his thigh.

You both take turns puffing on the cigarette until it gets too short to hold, Joel tosses it into the stove, and wipes his hands on his pants. You however are plotting on how to get closer to him. Too shy to say anything, but too desperate to not be closer you casually scoot up more and place your head on his thigh before turning away from him, pretending to get comfy. He gets stiff at this and you get nervous.

shit was that too much?

Frozen in fear you listen and wait. Slowly he relaxes and you hear his head thump against the wall. You let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding, and begin to relax. It was nearly 15 minutes later when you started to hear a small grumble coming from the man under you, he was snoring. You smiled to yourself, proud that you had managed to lay on him and not weird him out, maybe he likes it as much as you do. When he wakes up you'll think about testing your luck again, for now though, you need to rest. Closing your eyes you drift to sleep on his thigh, thinking about his hands all over you.

Edit: Chapter 2 will be coming out soon, be on the look out!

[delusinalandpassionate]

So hello...I kinda disappeared for a moment after Don's Canto was announced. After seeing that, I immediately remembered my list, and I wanted to remake it to be ready for her Canto. However, when I started to do it, and then I read shit tone of theories about her, and everything became confusing, and I am kinda procrastinated everything. But I'm back! And well, that's the mini list. It's all shady things that happened with Don in our main story and events. To save some time and energy, I only mentioned things that are definitely shady, and I'm certain 99% will play a role in her Canto, but it's still pretty chaotic.

I am also going to make analysises of all her IDs and EGOs in two separate parts and what I think they will lead to.

I didn't write a lot about any theories because there are A LOT of them, but I would love to hear your personal favorites and promise to give my best opinion about them

Also to the person who wrote to me about Discord, I tried to find you, but it well there wasn't enough information for me to understand how, so if you are still interested in talking about Don, please just write me in Messeges.

Okay back to the List

.

1. REDACTED

That thing appears in her character description, in a list of particulars , and none of the other characters has anything like this. Also, her list mentions Delusional of Grandiore. However, she does not show any symptoms (yet)

2. Ferris wheel and Carnival

We already saw a Ferris wheel in form of windmill on her character art and carousel in the window of her persinal EGO art and now with a cover for her Canto, we can with certainty say that she has something to do with this theme. The closest thing to Carnival we saw in the City idb Oswald's 8 o'clock Circus. Which is extremely fucked up place and if Don is really was part if it I would be surprised that she looks so normal(both physically and mentally)

Oswald's ideology also has a lot of about wishes and performance, which could suit her character arc quite well, but with him being dead, I am not sure who is left to control Circus.

3. Eyes and dance

Two little hints from second Canto from which my obsession with Don began. We still have no idea what that could possibly mean.

I should mention that there was a theory that her eyes are cognito filters, but I doubt that.

(There were also theories that she's blood fiend, which is interesting.)

4. Deal

In Canto III Episode 10 we get a first mention of mysterious deal that Don Quixote made with Vergilius. It's important to mention that while he beat shit out of her she still argued about her point, but only he mentioned that "deal" she immediately backed up.

Second mention of a deal happens in Canto IV Episode 28 where sinners wonder outloud about their wishes that brought them to the Limbus and Don only gets "...". Which is fucking weird, because there were other sinners who didn't say anything, but only Don was singled out.

Also it seems like a person with whom she made a deal was Vergilius, which I'd already unusual because it's Faust who does this kind of job.

5. Old friends, rampages and distortions

Canto III Episode 19 where Don Quixote beats Sinclair to bring him to his senses and than says "Pardon my rash action. Often I would find myself overcome by fervor, rampaging much the same as a riderless horse. At such moments, mine old friends helped me to come to myself—by beating me senseless. ‘Twas, at times, the only remedy to the fever that had overtaken me."

And well, that's only time she speaks about her past, giving us this little story. And it sounds horrible. However, we can not deny that this type of therapy works in Project moon world really well. I mean, we just finished Canto, where we beat Heatcliff to bring him to his senses.

Actually, if you think about that, most of "rampages" in these games( excluding "panic" from Lopotomy) happen while characters experience Distorting or EGO corruption and surprisingly Don Quixote have some sort of experience with Distortions?

In Canto IV Episode: 53, when we see DongRang Don Quixote is the first to understand that he's experiencing Distortion. And then, in Risk Levels & Classifications, she mentions that Moses(the DISTORTION detective) sounds familiar to her.

Which makes us wonder if she or someone in her past experienced Distortions?

6. Miguel

Don Quixote's quote "Sueno Imposible" is a direct reference to the musical Man Of La Mancha, and Miguel is a main character of this musical author of the story of Don Quixote who trying to live up to his heroic life.

Also, at old sprites, she had MIGUEL written on the bottom of her coat, but it was removed from the model now. HOWEVER, on her official stand, there is still written MIGUEL.

And that kind of makes us wonder if her character arc could be more inspired by musical than book, or if her real name would Miguel. We still not sure, but it definitely should play a role in her Canto.

[zhonglicious]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯. (𝐡𝐜𝐬)

☀ ft. ran haitani x reader

☀ warnings. mentions of fighting and making up. light angst i suppose? not sure if this warrants a warning, but mentions of chubby reader! honestly i think that's it, but lmk if i should add warnings for other topics!

☀ a/n. first post on this acc <33 honestly more ran centered than reader centered bc i love picking apart tr characters lol. probably not that coherent but eh <//3 wrote this bc i'm procrastinating on studying for my semi-finals lmfao <33 lowercase intentional btw!

❧ i just know ran would be the sweetest bf ever :((

❧ we're all in agreement his main love language is gift giving, yes? yes. i mean just look at him?? honestly i think he uses all of the love languages, but his main one is simply just gift giving

❧ we all know he's a rich man with no other way to spend his money than on his beloved. the gift giving is particularly heavy at the start of the relationship, as well as when he was still wooing you. like, i swear, you could not go a single week without finding a bouquet at your doorstep, or him offering you a pretty wrapped box

❧ even when you get further into the relationship, the gifts simply do. not. stop. it's less frequent now, yes, but it's still a little overwhelming sometimes. he doesn't hesitate to hand over his card or buy something you point out to him, all while he smiles and kisses the top of your head, telling you not to worry about how expensive it is

❧ another main love language for him is physical touch. he absolutely has to be holding some part of you at all times. of course, if you're not comfortable with his touch just yet, he's willing to wait for you to get used to him and trust him fully

❧ if you don't like pda, that's fine too! he doesn't mind keeping it lowkey in public, as long as he gets to shower you with affection once you get home <33

❧ he loves all body types, he just absolutely loves the feeling of you in his arms. although i just know that man prefers thicker people. but that's a topic for another post <33

❧ his favorite thing to do with you has to be those quiet, peaceful days where you two do nothing but lay in bed and just. do nothing

❧ not even watch a movie or anything, it's just. you and him with the curtains drawn. him holding you to his chest and playing with your hair, humming the song that's been stuck in his head, little things you've come to associate with him

❧ sometimes you think he just likes to feel your heartbeat, just to remind himself that you're here with him

❧ other activities he likes doing with you is playing games. especially when it's co-op games like minecraft or stardew. he absolutely must set his bed next to you btw, he just has to, sorry man i don't make the rules

❧ speaking of that, he's. very dramatic, yes.

❧ when it comes to small matters, he likes to whine at you, yes. you didn't say i love you to him today? "my baby doesn't love me anymore..." [fake sniffling] you ate the last of his food? [gasp] "how dare you-" [clutching his chest in offense]

❧ most of the time, he's not really serious, he just likes to see the way your face scrunches up at his antics. loves to laugh and flick your nose, before leaning down to kiss your forehead and apologize

❧ however, when you guys actually do fight, it's intense

❧ not in the way that there's screaming and yelling. although there is, sometimes, but most of the time it's surprisingly... quiet

❧ see, the thing about ran is that he internalizes a lot of things, and he's stubborn. all his life, especially with taking care of rindou, he's had to put on this facade of strength even when he's completely losing it

❧ so when you guys do fight, it's horrible because he doesn't want to back down from his stand. he takes a few days to cool off but once he does, he comes back and apologizes, however hard that is for him

❧ ran isn't used to love. he's always had to be tough and cold to make sure he and rindou survived. so it takes him a long time to deconstruct his walls and let himself be vulnerable to you, admit he was wrong. when that man says you're the better half of him, he means it, because you taught him how to open himself up to his loved ones, to stop being so on guard with everything in fear it might hurt him or his brother

❧ the same applies when he's feeling down. rather than talk about it, he'd rather isolate himself and push it all away, never to be seen again. it's a habit he's picked up from taking care of rindou, tbh. he doesn't want to worry you so he puts on a smile all the time

❧ but the moment you hug him and pat his head and tell him to let it all out, his breath hitches and the words finally come out, words he's had barring his throat all his life

❧ being in a relationship with ran can be rough, because he's still trying to figure out how to let himself be vulnerable around you. he's never had that luxury, to be able to put down his walls and not be hurt

❧ but i promise you that man is trying because he loves you, he loves how kind and caring you are, not just to him, but to the people around you

❧ so yes, to reiterate my first point, ran would be the sweetest bf ever, and i will forever stand by that <33

[dyrewrites]

I am procrastinating. I will tell you why in a manner that is not too big on spoilers, but might explain.

Before Deluca ending chapters in bullet point format;

Honeymoon on la luna et soleil for roughly a decade, stopping at ports to eat and enjoy a coffeehouse every now and then

Decide to 'retire' by finding a land-bound home in a location chosen for maximum 'make Ludovico swoon' action

Spend another decade, or two, being an adorable couple who are known locally as friendly neighbors, if a little loud, but feared in neighboring cities as 'blurs of fangs and giggles'

Something one of them forgot about, and the other dismissed, returns during a routine hunt for dinner to destroy everything

Horrible deals are made that are bad for everyone, as one ends up locked away and the other free

Another horrible deal is made that accomplishes very little but will never be forgotten

Still alone, our narrator explains why he wrote this story and what he hopes to accomplish and reminds the reader that he 'did' say it was a tragedy

Do we see now? I don't want to hurt them. I must, it is very important, and I have most of it written out in notes even.

But I haven't put it in the manuscript yet, because that makes it real and I'm not ready for that...

[sweetpascal]

7, 10, 16, 20, 22, 42, 45, 79, 86 ♡

ask game

oooo thank you for the lovely abundance of numbers, lea !! i'm so excited to answer them !! ☺️

7. tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote.

oh my god, it's so embarrassing. i was 12 years old and i was obsessed with the Dolan twins. they were huge back then on vine and YouTube. i was using wattpad at the time. and the fic i created was "the dolan twins are my bullies" 😭 IT'S EMBARRASSING EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT. i was so new to writing, so my writing was fucking horrid (bad spelling, bad punctuation, horrible plots, etc.) and it got a few hundred thousand views. i refuse to read it again now that i'm almost 22 years old 😭

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

funny enough, titles are the second biggest thing i struggle with in story-building (summaries are #1). i try to build around titles to get a feel of how i want the fic to go, but then i get so obsessive over trying to come up with a title that matches the energy and vibes i want to convey. like, it's extremely hard and exhausting. because also, the title won't match the plot and then the fic won't match the title, so it gets really messy. i WANT to try writing first and then creating the title after, but my friggin' brain won't let me use that technique 💔

16. where is your favorite place to write?

in a moving vehicle 🩷 i'm a huge lover of long rides, so the gentle rocking motions of the car/bus/train calms me down and puts me in a state of tranquility and creativity. also, being out in nature helps me shut my brain off and focus on what needs to be done. i usually write in bed, alone. i've soon realized that isolation is what negatively impacts my creative processes 🥺

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

oooooo, that's a tricky one. THERE'S SO MANY TROPES I LOVE TO WRITE AND WANT TO WRITE. enemies to lovers is just *chef's kiss* 😚🤌🏼 delicious. add in some angst and slow burn ??? that is top fucking TIER. a close second is definitely husband x wife fics. especially protective, guard dog husband fics. that's a good oomph.

22. describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

- develop inspiration from a song, gif, moodboard, movie scene, etc.

- write it down in the notes app

- listen to a playlist to create a vibe of whatever fic i want to write

- write a brief summary and warning tags i want to include in the fic (this helps me build around it)

- write one paragraph

- procrastinate for a few days

- go on pinterest and create a board for inspiration

- write the next few paragraphs until i reach mental exhaustion

- don't write for another few days

- procrastinate and talk about my fic ideas to my fiancé rather than sit and write

- write the next few paragraphs

- procrastinate for a few hours

- listen to music to get in the mood

- force myself to finish the last few paragraphs

- spend another hour rereading and editing

42. describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

makes you want to dissociate :3

45. name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

it was so, so incredibly difficult to pick just three. just know that i had well over 15+ writers, but i narrowed it down to the three that inspired me to start writing for Pedro characters when i wiggled my way into the fandom 🩷

@joelsgreys ; @gutsby ; @pedgito

79. are you an over-writer, under-writer, or just-right-er?

IT ALL DEPENDS ON THE MOOD I'M IN. when i'm so excited about a new fic i want to write, i'm an over-writer. i go overboard and don't realize that i wrote well over 10k words. when i'm in a depressive, mentally exhausted state, i lose care in my writing and write just to write, not really enjoying myself, so that causes me to be an under-writer. i'm one or the other. there's no in between, unfortunately 😣

86. which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

[ just like that - day six - perv!stepdad!joel ] ; early fall when it's thunder-storming and insanely windy and dark outside.

[ the serpent and the crown - king!marcus acacius x concubine!reader ] ; late winter when there are blizzards and frostbite type of cold, but also sunny, warm, winter mornings.

[ lies a beating heart - part two of beneath the armor - husband!marcus acacius x wife!reader ] ; early summer with warm afternoons and cool, humid nights.

[ where do we go from here - grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader ] ; late spring with flowers in full bloom, birds chirping, and light rain while the sun is still out.

[notthestarwar]

Hellowww hellowwww✨🧡

Hope you are doin alright✨

I am not sure if I asked you this before, but what are your favorite Fox headcannons or thoughts on him?

Also sour jogurt or sweetened with fruits?

i'm doing good!!! hope you are too??? i havent been on here so much recently. but i'm back in force today. i'm a year older and ✨procrastinating✨as usual

is jogurt the one you drink? i'll be honest i am not a big yogurt fan and i've never really liked the ones you drink. i used to favour like greek yogurt and i'd mix in honey. or sometimes papaya or cherry flavour. or passionfruit!!! but then like. about a year ago every time i had a yogurt i got majorly ill, like vomiting, and its really put me off them. after like the 3rd time i have not been able to stomach the thought of eating yogurt on its own lol. i do love a yogurt dip/sauce tho. raita my beloved.

i absolutely do have thoughts on Fox, i do not talk about him enough. i talk about it a bit here but here is a bit of a rundown:

so i think that Fox acts pretty apathetic and isn't particularly showy with his love, but i think that a intense love for his brothers pretty much underpins all that he is. the intense weight of responsibility and leadership is a big one, i dont think that fox likes being a leader, i think that he takes on that role in order to save his brothers from it. he has to be the best and he has to carry that load because if he doesnt, who else will? he cant imagine anyone ever actually wanting that.

i think that he is a very unreliable narrator when it comes to his own flaws. pretty much: i think that he is absolutely convinced that he is a terrible person. i think that he sees jango in himself and he is terrified of that. he hates jango for what he did to his brothers and he is convinced that jango was beyond saving. that he was evil, and never could have been any better. he wants his brothers love but he doesnt feel deserving of it because in his own eyes, fox may as well be jango. he pretty much projects all his hate for jango and this horrible hand he's been served, on to himself. he doesnt let his self hatred get in the way of his duty though, he isnt self destructive, as he knows that he needs to survive FOR his brothers. he's living for them, so largely he does look after himself. he funnels this self hatred in to a drive to be the absolute best, the most competent soldier ever.

his thing is all about self sacrifice. he doesnt particularly want to survive but he wants to leave his brothers even less. i like drawing a paralell between him and Cody, where they both have the same motivation, this love for their brothers and they are both driven to be the best, to save their brothers from the weight of responsibility, but they go about it in different ways. cody is the sun, burning himself up for his brothers, and Fox, is the sickly artificial light/darkness of the underlevels of coruscant, letting himself wither away for the good of his brothers. (neither of them are healthy about it. i see codys thing very much as one of sacrifice as well. the sun parallel isnt about life and joy. its about. burning. heat. light will go through the meat of a living being like its nothing. its not sustainable. its about giving all you possibly can while you are here and then youre gone. an explosion. its about giving more than you possibly can- because theyve been raised to think thats what you do. to think thats what love is, the only way to show it, all love can be.)

i wrote a series where Fox is given a warning of order 66 just in time so that he can escape the order, but in doing so he has to leave his brothers, leave the fight and to me, that is like the greatest sacrifice he could ever make. all he wants to do is stand and fight. all he wants to do is be with his brothers. but he has to run from them, run from the fight, in order to save them and that, is like, what i see as Fox's major struggle. the horrific weight of responsibility. where you have to do the opposite of what feels right, the opposite of what you want to do, you have to sacrifice your own honour, your rightuousness, in order to serve those you love. its not about looking good, its not about seeming nice or seeming loving. its about, doing the right thing for that person (or people in this case) at the cost of all else, at the cost of your humanity. fox doesnt see himself as a person, he doesnt see himself as one of the vode, he sees himself as a tool. it doesnt matter how his brothers see him, as long as he is working FOR them. fighting FOR them. he isnt a man, he's a weapon. he will die FOR them and he doesnt care if they remember him kindly.

[mood2you]

I like how The Rosie Result keeps holding an autism diagnosis over characters heads as some kind of sacrifice they're wanted to go through: Dr. Tilman trying to show how race science is ridiculous by lining his students up, the college says he will be suspended until he gets an Aspergers diagnosis but then in desperate tells him all he needs to so is say he has it with no formal diagnosis, he just quits to open a bar, (well it's not a straight line, but) he says it would be cowardly to blame it on Aspergers and reflect badly on people with it. Then later the private school his son is in says the son will be suspended all year for trying to dissect a pigeon at lunch unless he gets an autism diagnosis, and the staff even admits the diagnosis could be negative. And of course they also call him a psychopath.

I wrote this post midway through the book and the school retracts the whole thing because he acts a certain way under stress (he's the track captain and there's 4 teams going to race and he's been coaching his team that they all at least should finish and you can do it and go faster in the second half, and then there was horrible drama with his friend but he like held her hand across the finish line. The counselors say an autistic kid would be singleminded about the race I mean especially since it's about forgiving his friend it's not just holding her hand it's doing it in the midst of drama. I might not have!) and Don is like well my friend Laszlo is nice and he's autistic (the best argument you can expect in a real extemporaneous argument) and the school is like okay, and pulls a trapdoor lever to send one of the counselors to Summer HR. But then the school wants the son to write a speech about this one moment and he's like how do I write a speech about holding my friends hand? I do not have a crush on her by the way. What an insane thing to force a middleschooler to write a speech about!

I don't know. Everyone is always mad about Sheldon Cooper and Don Tilman but Don isn't usually the butt of the joke. It's hard to explain. Don always ends up in crazy situations, but then also he solves them by being honest or blunt or something. Honesty is a great aspect to theow into miscommunication stories. People can be mad I guess though because a lot of the jokes ARE about communication and the way people see Don. Plus of course he never thought he is autistic, one of e no of the first scenes ine in the series is him getting mad at a colleague for making him cover his Aspergers lecture, it could nave co my en to p it could have come up but it does the opposite.

So I can see people thinking the last book being about autism in an antipsychiatric way as sort of being a "special episode" and procrastination. Here's all the autism takes all at once. They even talk about ABA, even pro-ABA parents say "her trauma, maybe even her suicide is a risk *I* am willing to take" then Don buys a transit pass for his 11 year old who then buys a phone for himself without talking about it with his parents, AND one for his friend who's family is anti-doctor (ei very controlling) so it's like. There's got to be a midway between ABA and letting your kid run around like that. I'm not against kids having phones it just seems like something you should talk about, and, yes, the parents of the other kid have intersicted her against hanging out with the son, because, you know, it just LOOKS weird. Looks are important but only in a cirxular totalogy way.

[astraystayyh]

hi :))

i just read the invisible thread part 2, after reading part 1, only to remember everything. i feel very soft and full right now thanks to what you wrote and how you write. i already said something when i reblogged the first part, but i couldn't think of something specific to say about to second, so i just reblogged it too with my 5star tag and left it there. but i do want to say thank you. i am having a very rough week for personal reasons and overthinking and those kinds of things teens like me suffer so often these days, but this morning i was lying in bed with horrible cramps and i remembered you had posted the second part to invisible thread recently, so i was willing to read it.

and i did, ofc. but the thoughts i have rn are like -i would say philosophical haha. i think the way you write helps people to understand the way they feel. i mean, i had this feeling all the time, like i should be screenshoting everything or at least being able to have the capacity of highlight some quotes like i do when i am rrading a book with my post its and my markers. all you write is absolutely beautiful, but this work you did with invisible thread will always live in my heart in some sort of way.

i am a firmly believer that we shouldn't accept anything that we don't deserve, but sometimes is hard to understand what we deserve when we are very caught up in our minds. the way you described how not only minho but also yn cared for each other, and how they learnt to be better and grew as individuals is truly admirable, and i think everyone should have the chance to read this once in their lives in order to understand a lot of things about love, and human behavior. i don't know how to say it or if i am explaining myself correctly. and even if it seems like i am crazy or something because is just some writting that someone wrote for fun to post here in tumblr, i can assure you for me is not only that.

i am in a time of my life where i am supposed to build my future self, and things like this (and quotes and thoughts i found on pinterest haha) really help me to create a world of mine where it is okay with having a bad day, or not knowing what to feel, or craving a real romantic conexion, or spending a whole afternoon procrastinating just because i didn't feel like going out and socialise. i really identify with yn, and i look forward to finding the comfort and refuge that she found in minho someday. meanwhile, you inspire me to practise so i can, somehow, somewhere in the future, get to write something as beautiful and deep as this was.

sorry for the rambling, feel free to not share/answer this, and have a lovely morning/afternoon/night ❤️‍🩹

hiii my love, thank you so much for sending in such a sweet message 🥹 i hope you're feeling better these days and I'm so happy i.t brought you some comfort :")) this truly means the world to me like I can't believe you think so highly of something i wrote ☹️ it genuinely makes me the happiest and i still can't comprehend it fully, so thank you for telling me this <3

take it slow, don't rush yourself to have it all figured out, it takes time and you need to be patient and gentle with yourself throughout it, even if you make mistakes and bad decisions, this is the only way in which we grow,, if you're kind to yourself then at the end of the day, everything will be okay, promise <333

[wellhalesbells]

5, 10, 17 & 20 for the ask 😁

5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

I sure have not, mainly because if I did it would be, how you say, very short. I tend to listen to... one song, over and over and over and over and over again. It usually lasts me through an entire week, sometimes longer, before I have to switch to something new. If I ever do.

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

The latter kind of dictates the former. Sometimes it is so obvious, and it's been obvious since I started, and sometimes I am left sitting there going: I could post this if I could just think of what to friggin' call it. For stories that I have to keep coming back to, it usually happens very organically. I edit. A lot. Coming back to a doc repeatedly and having it be called something truly psychotic and horribly mis-identifying (as it always starts), I'll usually realize what it should be called well before I'm finished. But like with the last fic I posted, I wrote it quickly and I was left with a fic that didn't have a name hours after it was done and I ended up snagging it from an episode of the show I was watching because I dON'T KNOW AND I GIVE UP.

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

Oof. I have no idea. Do people remember specific lines they've written? I really tend to just remember vibes, atmosphere that I've crafted well enough that when I think of that story that's what fills my mind about it or colors that pop when I think of it. I don't know, it's hard to describe, but when I think of it, it has a unique footprint in my brain. Its own shape and feeling and taste associated with it. Oh! But I can tell you that this line about Boyd from AAYbtDoM makes me laugh out loud literally every damn time I read it:

"He was still trying to breathe normally when Scott noticed Boyd sitting down on the grass, legs spread out and pressing the sole of his boot up against a dead hunter’s to see if they had comparable shoe sizes."

Every. Damn. Time. For context: absolutely the most dramatic crap is happening in the foreground, Stiles and Derek nearly just died, Scott's barely holding onto his panic about that, they've just defeated the Monster of the Week but in the background, Boyd is just all chill, sprawled out on this grass with the level of gravitas that a five-year-old would have on it, that same 'I'm gonna tear out grass and rain it down between my outstretched legs, toes of his boots lazily rocking back and forth' energy, looking for new--well, admittedly ~slightly used shoes from people who no longer need their shoes. The juxtaposition kills me.

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

Honestly, whichever character is the stoic, emotionally constipated beefcake in my ships, I'll muss 'im up with some jealousy. Just a 'here are complicated emotions, go forth and conquer.... or stand there in a corner with an eye twitch and insides squirming while telling yourself you don't care about this at all' moment. It is always glorious.

[lenasai]

before 2022 ends (for me) i'm gonna steal an idea from @thehallstara and do a recap of the stuff i wrote this year, with commentary because i feel like it...and also so it's not like. exactly the same thing lmao

first, go take a look at hir post if you feel so inclined. if you have the time, those twines are all bangers.

list below the cut because this will probably be long when it appears in the tag:

the splorts poetry series as it exists now. the first two sets were from 2021, but i started the series after realizing i was going to post more individual blaseball poems. turns out putting a bunch of poems in one work and waiting for those to be done before you publish them means a lot of stuff just goes unpublished, so i moved toward publishing stuff individually. if you wanna just look at the poems i wrote in 2022, start with lucky number 81 (what if)

the merry exit (un?)memorial dimension traveling club - a fun little exploration of the merry exit from the gamma 1 test circuit and the merry exit from the tutorial game

hold on, you'll live to play again - look i KNOW what's going to be in the second chapter. i just haven't written it yet. every now and then i go "oh no i abandoned the happy story about the kids" and stare wistfully at the pages document hoping the second chapter will just write itself. i will write it eventually. shoutout to the random person who left kudos on the first chapter like 50 years after i wrote it, knowing there's a nonexistent second chapter. anyway. i wrote the first chapter for the first anniversary of longest thursday. it's about the season 20 postseason and the moment we knew everyone (mostly ivy) was going to be safe. it's got more core lore than i expected to write. thank you mechs.

ashes, dust, and other reminders of what once was - for the garages fic exchange, about chorby soul and parker macmillan. HOO BOY this is the one i'm proudest of. if you read only one piece from this post, i hope you will consider making it this one...which is a huge ask because it's nearly 11k words. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote over 10k words of People In The Vault Being Sad About Things i would have two nickels. that's not a lot of nickels, but very funny it happened twice. this is also the first work i've written for another person, and they were an absolute pleasure to write for. anyway. i think chorby soul and parker macmillan should be besties.

what if the light at the end of the tunnel burns me again - for the firefighters fic exchange, about Agan Espinoza's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Season 24. i love them. i curled up into a little ball of shrimp emotions when they fell in the last fall ball with parker macmillan. god damn.

end-of-the-world tour - i wrote 1.5k words about parker macmillan's roam to the (prehistory) crabs and immortals in like two hours. absolutely no proofreading went into it. i wrote it and tossed it into the void after my computer threatened to fuck me over at the deadline. written for the blaseball zine jam.

batting practice - yeah so i procrastinated until the week of the deadline, then got possessed by some kind of writing demon and wrote 5.5k words about wyatt quitter and jasmine mason. not to say it was rushed, but it may have a residual formatting glitch i may have missed when copying from pages into ao3. i went over it many times to try and get rid of those, but if you see a couple of paragraphs fused together, no you didn't. written for the lift fic exchange.

[rozcdust]

I have a group project for midterms and this one person refuses to put in any effort (like miss girl literally started the day before the deadline and only gave one small paragraph that has nothing to do with the things the lecturer wanted and I am stressed because I refuse to let one person ruin my grades (also bcus I'm a scholarship student and my education literally depends on my GPA)) and I was switching between opening google scholar and tumblr and wattpad and AO3 and some illegal comic website because, again, I am stressed and need to destress ever few minutes (not recommended, don't procrastinate kids), and I reread the kid downstairs and I went 'damn, if only I have 30 yo gangsters living somewhere in my apartment who won't mind being my platonic sugar daddies, pretty sure they'll either kill the one person who won't work, do my essay for me while feeding me candies like I'm 5 (no complaints here), or both, and I fucking live for that imagination.

Anyways, sorry for ranting <3

HONESTLY FUCKING GROUP PROJECTS S U C K WHY DO PROFS EVEN ASSIGN THEMMMM-

i am terribly sorry that girl is so shitty, that is HORRIBLE, why the fuck people do that- procrastination is perfectly reasonable in that case, you need to calm down after all!

no bc honesty??? same 😭 wrote ‘the kid downstairs’ to help me destress from living alone and having to ADULT like a LOSER and i too wish i had 6 grown ass men platonically coddling me 🤧

good luck bby! 💖

[voids-ideas]

Adding one more fucking note because I'm unable to stop doing things against my better judgment

My best way to stop procrastinating was this post. Evidently I don't make good decisions

Anyway, HELLO, I'M COMING TO TELL YOU ALL THE THINGS I HAVE DONE.

The thing. It's not completely ready because believe me when I tell you it's a VERY complicated thing. But I asked for help, so now I'm not doing it alone and it reduced my anxiety by like 80%

I washed the shoes I was supposed to wash and other things too. I can finally wear them again!

That's all I have done successfully

I tried to call about the doctor's appointment on Friday, no answer. Monday I forgot. Tuesday no answer. Next time maybe I'll be successful!

Tidying up my room is something I have been doing in my mind, the problem is I have had HORRIBLE days. I have woken up and my body has said "hey yeah. We're not working today" so I've honored the 1k activity and not forced myself to tidy the room while feeling horrible!

Success!

Anyway, thanks to everyone who interacted with this post, wrote nice things and so on. I'm so fucking grateful

NOW STOP BEFORE THIS HITS 20K FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS NICE IN THIS WEIRD UNIVERSE

Ok I am going to do this simply because the first thing I will put here I NEED to do it and I have 0 motivation to do it even though it is EXTREMELY important

In fact, I think that's the reason why I don't want to do it... anyway

If this gets to 30 notes, I do that thing

50 notes, I call to ask if my doctor's appointment has been scheduled (I've been avoiding it for two weeks now)

100 notes, I go wash my shoes that have long needed washing and are just sitting there, existing, waiting for me to deign to wash them.

200 notes, I finish organizing my room (I organized it halfway and then left a bunch of things that still don't have a defined place)

500 notes, I use the things I have to bleach and color my hair. The only thing that has stopped me is the fear of doing it wrong or being too lazy to maintain it.

1k notes, I stop doing things that I know will trigger my chronic pain with the pure intention of confirming that the pain was indeed real (don't do this. 0 recommended).

5k notes, I try some new food without fear of wasting money by buying something I most likely won't like (my autism hates new foods)

10k notes, I wear my bi flag earrings in front of someone I wouldn't usually wear them with. I trust that they possibly wouldn't have a problem with me being bi, but I would never get up the courage to tell them anything

20k notes, wtf I have absolutely no idea. If it comes to this, ehhh... Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing here. Do I promise to be honest in therapy and stop telling them that everything is perfect even though nothing has ever been perfect? Yeah, that probably works. Please don't go this far, I don't know how to do this. Maybe I should... but... it would be awful to learn it

[aurekiwi]

Here's my feedback!

First of all, the design/format of the reading is so aestetically pleasing! Super pretty whilst also professional. Additionally, there was SO. MUCH. DETAIL. I felt to lucky to be getting so much content for such a small price (15 pages!!!) 😭😭😭

The oracle cards resonated with me a lot; Especially The Gate and The silence. The former was reassuring because it (imo) represented how I was overestimating how difficult it would be to make the necessary life choices. The quote made this message far more obvious. Anyways, the silence card referred to how I'm literally always distracting myself or avoiding my problems with daydreaming/sleeping/my phone 💀 I have a slight fear of the silence/emptiness/lack of mental stimulation I feel when I try to meditate, which is something I need to tackle.

About future spouse:

•Meeting my fs through connections is a possibility ive seen in quite a few PACs I've read

•From what you descibed, I feel like this process (the beforehand of meeting then) is taking place now; Lately I've been 'Coming out of my shell' much more (I'm actually so nervous bc my sixth form has an event tomorrow, where I'll be working with a bunch of strangers 😖) + I've been slightly less afraid to act like my actual self (If that makes sense) around my friends. Although I deffo need to work on trusting myself

•I'm glad that we'll be able to relate to each other's experiences (I'm pretty sure that's one of my top requirements for a relationship); Also, you were 100% correct abt my trust issues/detatchment

• Their personality is so yum 😭😭😭 I don't really know what else to say since I can't exactly test how much it resonates lol (Remaind me to update you in a few years maybe? LMAO)

• You were right about our ages (In the 17-18 range); AND OMG THE MOODBOARD?! TYSM I SWEAR YOU WENT ABOVE AND BEYOND FOR THIS (Now I'm most likely going to fall asleep daydreaming about him 😍)

For what you wrote about the career section, at the time I was feeling the overwhelm/stress that you mentioned (although this has mostly faded: Summer holidays starting in 2 days :D), as well as my past experiences with people (unfortunately)

Also, the characteristics you wrote in the fulfilling careers part perfectly matched my career aspirations (I'm hoping to be a clinical psychologist in the future), which made me v happy!

One part that didn't resonate as much was the bit abt productivity; One of my main class is that I'm good at planning, but horrible at executing/sticking to plans (Chronic procrastinator 😬) and multitaking with multiple responcibilities

Thank you so much from the reading, and u can't wait for the next one!!! Completely worth the wait :)

Thank you so much for your feedback!

[eliotquillon]

21, 22, 23 for the ask game

21: What do you do when you get writer's block?

WELL. usually a long shower and/or a cigarette (yes this is me coming out as a smoker) works for getting the idea juice re-flowing. tis a cruel twist of fate that i often come up with my best ideas when i physically cannot write so i have learned to turn it to my advantage. usually though i close the document, forget about the fic for 6 months, then restumble across it and go WAOW I WAS REALLY COOKING HERE and finish it LMAO

22: When do you usually write? (day of the week or time of day)

embarrassingly: i normally write when i have a uni deadline to procrastinate. really nothing gets the fic brain going like knowing i have something Actually Pressing to do. which means usually late at weeknights LMAO. i tend to go especially hard in the early morning after an all-nighter; that's when either true genius or the Madness hits in terms of fic content because at that point i'm tired and have lost most of my inhibitions about what sounds stupid or cringe or whatever lmaoo

23: Where do you usually write?

these days i mostly write in bed (i do most of my uni work in bed too, which is horrible for my sleep hygiene i know) because i use my laptop for everything now, but before that i wrote mostly at my desk on my pc. when i was a baby fic writer i wrote everything on my google docs app on my phone but i ended up doing most of a school project on my computer and after that i never looked back. sometimes i'll still jot stuff down on my notes app if i'm on a train or bus and then switch over to laptop if i think the idea has legs, but i definitely used to be more adventurous with my Places of Writing when i was younger lmao

[ouch-thats-harsh]

venting ahead

don't look please

just needed to release everything

its never too late for me to start working

I've been procrastinating for too long

my entire chest aches

and I haven't even started on the things i have to do

so many books left to read

so many exams to give

hell, more than these, there are too many expectations

and every time I vent, it just feels like I'm faking for attention

I'm laughing with tears streaming down my face, scratching my neck, pulling my hair, franticly wiping my tears, screaming, sobbing while trying to take a walk to calm myself

music was blaring outside yesterday

and people still think I'm happy and fine and okay and gods know what

I'm so tired of thinking I'm doing all this for attention and that I'm a fucking fraud

I cried too much last night

and stared at the ceiling while laying motionlessly on my bed

went to the toilet and sat there terrified of having nightmares or sleep paralysis

its getting worse everyday

us making plans to meet on that specific day after 20 yrs

just for fun

I said "If I'm alive ofc"

I looked happy saying that

and my friend who knows how shit my mental health looked so worried

she freaked out when I screamed at my friend to stop packing my bags

I freaked out because it was fucking my brain up in all wrong ways

my arms started to shake

just because my books were packed weird (felt weird to me, it was completely fine)

she and my best friend looked so helpless while I had a full blown panic attack in our classroom

my best friend hates my family because she knows they are primarily the reason I'm so fucked up

I don't hate them

never did

last night i asked why she compares me to her in-laws

my mother can be so selfish

and a hypocrite

called me selfish and horrible

that i'll never be a good person

and then last night she said that she only says such because they ill-treated her

and she hopes they were dead

I asked, do I really treat her as such

she said, I never said that

then proceeded to talk about her trauma

even though I asked her to let me know why she hates me so much

i want to talk to someone

be held

just someone to sit with

I want to cry

so hard

she asked if I had been crying today

I said no

I want to bang my head until my skull cracks

have been calling myself all sorts of shit things

and I know they are true

and if anyone else says I'm not

then I know they're pitying me

if they yes, then I'll sit quiet

and then start to cry later

not me hating how I've wrote 'I' too many times

like my own existence bothers me

don't wanna cry

but then how am I suppose release this feeling

my chest hurts and feels like something's gnawing at it in the middle

I'm tired of feeling

tired of being tired

and my arms are weak

my stomach

it doesn't feel good

I'm gonna cringe at this

not like I'll read this again