#and I’m saying forcing out fics bc the only time I felt like an actual writer was when I wrote Astraphobia

[malachitezmeyka]

Suddenly got this really weird off-putting feeling in my chest that I usually get when I’m about to cry over something, but also with some general iffyness thrown into the mix, and for once instead of immediately giving in to it or getting pissed at my mind I tried to figure out where it came from

Turns out I would have been completely justified in getting pissed at my mind because turns out, the cause is that I thought about a fic concept I was really excited about a few months ago that I never ended up writing because I couldn’t get into the flow from the very first sentence. I thought about it for a whole five seconds and now we’re here. Fucking great

[keiffeine]

look at me, not him

coriolanus snow x gender-neutral reader

tags: slightly possessive! + jealous!coriolanus

author’s note: sorry this was so delayed 💀 i wanted to write it less bulletpoint-y like how i normally do with headcanons bc i wanted it to be more like a fic. hopefully you enjoy 🩷 it’s a little rushed esp towards the ending lol

word count: 1,036

reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is not allowed.

coriolanus never married you with the intention of loving you or actually caring about you. rather, his intention was purely for his own self-benefit. as he rose to success as a young politician, basking within the spotlight the capitol so graciously dawned on him, it only made sense that a man with this much power to his name alone would marry someone who was, at the very least, equal to him.

you were perfect for him. your family was one of the most successful families within the capitol, holding generations-worth of wealth and status—which he needed for himself.

after marriage, coriolanus was very content with how his life was. he wasn’t really obligated to spend time with you or anything of the sort—he viewed it as something more…optional. he had already gotten what he wanted; access to your wealth and the mere status to your name, so everything after that came second. meals together consisted of little to no conversation, and even though you shared a room and a bed, you slept with your backs facing each other.

you were simply just his spouse, someone he could ultimately leech off of to power his personal gain. nothing but an accessory on his arm to make him look good in public. the most affectionate you’ve ever seen him was whenever there were news reporters and cameras around; he’d plant seemingly-loving kisses to your lips or hold you close for no other purpose other than for a good public appearance.

you were never much of a priority in his mind, up until he sees you talking with some man at an event that was hosting some the richest and most influential capitol citizens. whoever this was, he was making you laugh and smile, which felt like such a rarity of a sight in coriolanus’ eyes. you always looked so solemn when you were together, but right now, your face shined so bright, with the most genuine smile he’s ever seen. it wasn’t out of politeness for the sake of etiquette, but a real smile.

it made his blood boil, to say the least. that man was so obviously flirting with you; the way he was standing so close to you, gaze flitting from your eyes then to your lips then back again. coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder: were you seriously this oblivious, or were you trying to make him jealous on purpose?

coriolanus couldn’t help but scowl, watching you conversing with this stranger. who even was he? what could you possibly be talking about that made you look so entertained? you’d been talking for…what, the past…fifteen…twenty minutes already? surely you were bored at this point, right? he wasn’t even worth an ounce of your time. when were you going to stop talking to him and walk away?

coriolanus hated everything about this, weirdly enough. normally, at events like these, he could care less about who you talked to, but the more coriolanus continued to watch you talk to him, the more he wanted to drag you away himself.

as soon as he decided he’d had enough, coriolanus walked over to you, pulling on a tight and forced smile as he snaked an arm around your waist.

“i’m sorry to interrupt,” coriolanus said in a calm, collected voice, looking down at you before turning his head to whoever you’d been speaking to, “but i must speak to my spouse about something. please, excuse us for a moment.” with that, he led you away, bringing you to a secluded spot to ensure your privacy.

“what the hell was that?” coriolanus asked, furrowing his eyes as he kept his eyes down at you, feeling furious but relieved that he finally had you alone. relieved that your attention was on him now. “were you flirting with him?”

you scoffed, baffled that you’d be accused of something like that. “flirting, coriolanus? seriously…” you said with a sigh, seeming equally frustrated and confused.

coriolanus rolled his eyes, then moved a step closer, keeping you against the wall. “don’t play dumb, y/n, that man was clearly flirting with you,” he mumbled, placing his hand on the wall, right beside your head.

“we were just talking, coriolanus, my god.” you folded your arms, tilting your head up and meeting his eyes. “besides, i wouldn’t understand why you would care.”

coriolanus swallowed, not daring to look away from you. he held your gaze, pressing closer and completely aware of the very little distance between the both of you.

“why i care? you wouldn’t understand why i care?” coriolanus whispered, his voice dropping to a low tone that sent a shiver down your spine. “i care because you are my spouse, y/n. my spouse. you’re mine, understand?” he watched your face, noting the slight color that tinted your cheeks as he spoke to you.

“i just want you to look at me the way you were looking at him,” coriolanus confessed after a beat of silence. he bit his lip, cheeks growing warm at his own words. “is that so hard to ask for?”

he leaned in a little closer. his face was so close to yours. still, you made no effort to push him away.

coriolanus blinked slowly before glancing down at your lips; they looked so…perfect, parted just slightly and just inches from his own—so close to just kiss.

he swallowed thickly and bit the inside of his cheek. the longer he stared down at you, the more he restrained himself from pressing his lips onto yours. the thought was too tempting.

it was strange to see coriolanus like this; he never really paid you any mind and hardly ever acknowledged you as his spouse privately, but…it felt weirdly endearing to hear it from his own mouth, and the way he audibly confessed that he was pining for your attention. since when?

“just…” coriolanus cleared his throat and took a step away from you, to physically restrain himself from his own desires. he looked away, taking a moment to breath as color faded into his cheeks. the air in the room suddenly felt so heavy and oddly tense. “please stay by my side from now on, okay?” he requested sheepishly, all of his thoughts dissipating into the air as he took your hand, leading you back to the crowd.

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[tenjikyu]

𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘺𝘰𝘶 - 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ bonten!mikey x male!rockstar!reader , reader plays guitar in a band , reader dresses more grunge as that’s the bands theme , think nana osaki from nana bc she’s the inspo for the fic , very lighthearted, tryna let poor bonten!mikey catch a break , slight sexual references but nothing actually happens , bonten is a lil ooc bc they all act like family but it’s okay bc it’s bonten.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR BONTEN ARC, NOT REALLY BUT WARNING JUST IN CASE. (honestly it’s not spoilers at all bc it’s pretty fanon in comparison to the canon bonten timeline.)

“cmon mikey, get outta the apartment for once in your life that isn’t to go to headquarters!” rindou pouts at his boss.

manjiro really didn’t know what he expected when he decided all the executives should move into a massive penthouse together. sure it was good for his health to be around others and not coop himself up in agony, but he didn’t exactly like the idea of being dragged out whenever his lackeys felt like it.

“not intrested, leave me alone.” manjiro says, attempting to make his way to his bedroom. to go see a band he rarely listened to? who goes to a concert when you don’t give a shit about them to begin with?

sure he’s heard all about the gorgous female lead singer and the hot as fuck guitarist. (Y/N), right? manjiro couldn’t remember nor did he really care to.

“but i bought us all front row tickets to see Black Rose so we could witness how hot Hiroko Asato issss” ran attempted to persuade the stubborn bonten leader.

it wasn’t working.

“i’m looking forward to seeing her outfits up close. from what i’ve heard, she wears pure designer.” kokonoi adds onto the conversation.

“cmon mikey, it’s only one night. if you hate it that much i can drive you back to the penthouse.” kakucho, ever the resolver, bargains with the pouting leader.

“…” manjiro stays silent. ‘it’s just one night i guess, plus it means that i’d have them off my ass for at least a month’ he reasons with himself.

“alright, let’s get going then.” he says, the rest of the executives silently fist bumping the air rn.

the wait to get into the stadium was a bitch, however with a little bit of force, the bonten executives managed to get inside ahead of time.

koko ordered the drinks, kakucho and mochi reserved the spots and the haitani brothers were chatting up some vip ladies in scandalous dresses. meanwhile mikey is . . .

umm . . .

wait.

“oh, hey! are you lost..?”

you do your best to keep cool with the fact that the leader of the biggest mafia syndicate in japan was in your personal changing room.

“the show doesn’t start for another 2 hours, can i help you to your seat? i wouldn’t mind.” you offer, keeping careful of how you talk.

the hotshots of bonten’s identities had been long revealed to the public, however people were too afraid to really report their whereabouts to authorities. many stories of people who had revealed their location that day were swiftly eliminated, even before the news of their position were made public.

and so, knowing that the tatoo on this rather depressed looking man’s neck was a bad sign, you decided to just adhere to whatever he might need.

you were already dressed, the iconic vivienne westwood jewellery hanging from every inch of your body. each member of your band had a significant brand to them, so it wasn’t uncommon for you to be seen decked out in the iconic space themed jewellery. you had always loved the style, and it seemed the mafia boss was equally as intrigued in your designer pieces. you even had their logo imprinted onto your guitar.

“no, i’m okay.” manjiro only replied, his eyes not leaving the necklace that rested gently on your chest.

he didn’t really know why he snuck into the private quarters of the band. perhaps it was to escape his ever-so-annoying underlings?

or perhaps, a little part of him wanted to catch a glimpse of you.

apart from the obvious favourite of the band, the lead singer AS well as the only girl in the band, you were a favourite among listeners.

you had women and men alike screaming your name and begging for skin-on autographs. despite being a dude yourself, you had other guys begging you to sign their tailbone (which you had to politely decline).

manjiro understood why, as you were definitely easy on the eyes. your amazing sense of fashion and your toned body didn’t help.

“uhm.. are you feeling okay? you seem a bit dazed.” you question. in reality, the man was just dead on staring into your soul, scaring the living shit outta you.

“yes, i’m alright.” he finally responds.

.

. .

. . .

“here, take a seat.” you finally break the silence. why was he here? you didn’t think that a guy like him would have time to sit around some flashy concert. sure, you were a big band but let’s be real, shouldn’t he be at his headquarters shooting peoples heads in?

alas, you knew better then to question it.

and so, you order in some glasses of alcohol and begin chatting. you spoke about your career, how your band came to be and about dreams.

you aren’t entirely sure why you were discussing this sort of shit with a random mafia leader who could probably give less then a shit about you, however he seemed almost enamoured with your conversation.

you felt bad for talking his ear off, especially since you now only had about 45 minutes till showtime and you STILL hadn’t tuned your guitar, however he didn’t seem to care.

everytime you stopped talking, manjiro almost.. glared? at you? as if he was offended that you stopped talking.

unbeknownst to you, manjiro loved listening to you talk. the way you worded things and your voice overall was heavenly to his ears.

the piercings that decorated your skin were appealing to the man. the chain from your ear to you lips especially looked so… attractive to him.

“(Y/N) C’MON, WE’RE ON IN 10” you could hear toru, your drummer, scream out to you.

“SHIT! MY GUITAR” you freaked. HOW did you forget your guitar??

“i’ll come visit after the show.” manjiro says, exiting the room.

“oh, oka-“ before you had the chance to finish your sentence, he vanished.

well, now you couldn’t WAIT for the show to finish!

after the show had ended, you packed up the rest of your gear. your manager had popped in and taken your stage clothes back to the studio before bidding farewell.

as you sat around in a pair of baggy jeans and a t-shirt (inspo - don’t feel like you have to imagine this.) , you paitently waited for the white haired mafia boss to sneak back into your private room.

why were you even waiting? he was probably bullshitting you anyways. why would someone as busy as manjiro sano give a fuck about what you were doi-

“yo.” a cheeky grin graces his face, looking back at you.

note to self : doubt gets you nowhere!

“hey manjiro, enjoy the show?” you ask the man, automatically getting comfortable in his presence. you didn’t exactly know why you felt so relaxed around him, considering his rather infamous reputation, but you just did.

“yeah, you’re certainly the best in your band though. could go solo and still be famous if you wanted.” he replies, automatically heating your face up.

“cmon (Y/N), let’s get going already. i’m tired.” he winged to you in a childlike manner.

“okay.. WAIT—HUH?? where am i going?” you shriek, having no idea that he actually PLANNED to leave this place with you in tow.

“back to my place. duh. i don’t just talk to anybody for fun unless i plan to shoot them in the head an hour later.” he responds in a nonchalant voice.

this boy is gonna be the death of you, literally or figuratively? only time will tell.

regardless of how much you declined the offer, the man ends up dragging you out to the expensive limo that was owned by bonten. not only were you dragged into the car, you were squished in between the boss and 2nd in command of the syndicate, haruchiyo sanzu.

not that you were complaining, the pink haired dude was hot as fuck.

there were many things that occurred that night :

• at 1am, you arrived at their shared headquarters, completely baffled that they all lived together. you decided that you would NOT mention anything that might offend anyone in the room right now.

• at 2am, you were drinking alcohol more pricey then your stage guitar. you weren’t by any means on the poor side, but these men lived a new version of luxury.

• at 3am, you were playing pool with the haitani brothers and sanzu. you lost. miserably.

• at 4am, you were half naked and making out with manjiro sano on his own bed. you didn’t expect the high and mighty manjiro sano to be so submissive in the bedroom.

wait…

“HUH??” WHY WERE YOU IN MANJIRO SANO’S BEDROOM?? WHY WERE YOU IN NOTHING BUT BOXERS?? WHY DID MANJIRO SANO HAVE BITE MARKS ALONG HIS NECK??

“relax dummy, nothing went beyond tongue action.” a mop of platinum hair grumbles beneath the duvet covers.

thank fuck.

‘wait. what time is it?’ you ponder, taking a look at the clock next to the bed. 3:45pm. just how much did you drink to wake up this late?

before you had anymore time to think about it, you feel a thin but strong arm yank you back under the covers,

and come face to face with a pouty mafia leader.

as if on instinct, you pull his head gently into your chest, cradling his head like he’s a porcelain doll. his arms wrap around you as he nuzzled into your body closer, seeking your warmth and comfort.

it doesn’t quite dawn on you that your cuddling a man you literally met yesterday. not because you’re naive or dense, but because it just felt right to be in each others arms.

it’s not until mochi wakes the both of you up for dinner that you reopen your eyes, realising you hadn’t moved since you got dragged down.

it’s an all out war getting manjiro to leave his bed, but when you’re swiftly abducted by the haitani brothers, he’s up and ready, chasing the idiots around claiming they ‘stole his baby.”

well, that’s one way to get a boyfriend!

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 17

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

Drew Tanaka's True Love Connections by @buoyantsaturn

Will smiled. "I have an appointment next door with the, uh… Matchmaker lady?” He winced at his own awkwardness, trying to bite back the embarrassment he felt. “Well, actually my friend set it up for me, but-- Sorry, do you know anything about her? The matchmaker lady, not my friend, I mean. I’m just not sure what to expect, you know? I’ve never, uh, done something like this before.” 

THIS WAS SO SICK I LOVED IT!!!!!! flowershop au with a twist oh yes ma’am. also im so pumped drew was in this every time i see her im like hello my love how are you

2. just desserts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord

It’s just a cupcake, Nico reminds himself. Surely that justifies breaking into the infirmary at the break of dawn. or: nico's love language is baking and will solace gets a lot of cake as a result.

end note hate me GIGGGGLIIING. also i am OBSESSED with this author but i haven’t read the solangelo book yet so i haven’t read a lot of her stuff and i’m DYING to. this was as sweet as nico's baking fr!! i'm writing less of a note on this fic (altho i love it) bc the WORDS i have to say about the next one,,,

3. caught in the river of tears that i cried by @thegoldenappleofdiscord*

In all honesty, it was really for the best that Will didn’t think about all the strange things that sometimes happened around him. After all, his mama had more than enough on her plate already. He was a good kid, and it was best everything stayed as it were. (Though admittedly, the flock of flesh-eating maniac pigeons, men with hooves, and the growing darkness in his veins might just make this a tiny bit more difficult than he anticipated) or: will can only push down a part of him for so long (will has plague powers, but he's known it from the very start.)

UPDATE WHEN UPDATE WHEN UPDATE WHEN REESE PLEASE 😭😭i am genuinely so obsessed with this fic and the WAY everything is woven together....like fear is a driving force!! you can feel it!! this is one of those starred fics fr bc it Changed the way i wrote and characterized will. he is fr a character who has been controlled by fear his Whole life actually. of the world and what it takes from him. of the Fates that do not care for your fragile love. of the things they are forced to do. of the precarity of life. and perhaps most intimately and ardently Himself, and the abilities he does not want to have, the life he does not want to live. the parts of himself that do not fit in the mold he has Built for himself and Forced himself into. and this fic shows that so so beautifully like this story is Woven.....i think about it literally all the time it's insane

4. a handful of almosts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord

He’d said it so easily: “Best friends don’t do that to each other, Will.” It had been a throwaway comment after Will decimated him in a card game, which was usually Nico’s forte. Following that had been a furious, “Besides, it’s war. Entirely luck-based. Winning this game doesn’t mean anything. Stop laughing – why the hell are you laughing?” He’d mostly been laughing because of Nico’s expression – eyebrows drawn tight, mouth twisted in an adorable scowl – but also because of the sudden elation pumped into him like helium. They were best friends – and maybe someone else would be hopeful for more, and maybe one day he'll pursue it (he did want it, had wanted it for a long time) but for now, he’s content where they are, sitting in Nico’s room and cursing at each other through a deck of cards. or: 5+1 of will solace being a pining loser

A HANDFUL OF ALMOSTS!!! WHAT!!! every once and a while u just hit a title that Hits u u know. like a handful of almosts. yeah. what a deeply poignant and tragic thing. how fitting for the pjoverse, a universe of people who are haunted by their almosts. god. and then to turn around and make this story FLUFFY?? MAKE IT THE CUTEST THING IN THE WORLD??? "will solace and his rose coloured glasses" REESE!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!

5. Damage Control by @nikkira

“I couldn’t save Lee. I couldn’t save Michael. I couldn’t save Silena.” “You saved Annabeth when she was stabbed, right? And Annabeth was kind of imperative to the whole saving the world effort. The people you save go on to do things and help people and save people. When you lose someone, you lose them. But when you save someone, you save a dozen more people.”

"i dream of the people i could not save. they're mad at me." oh i am UNWELL. ill i tell you. i read this line and had to sit down for a little while like actually. one thing about will solace is that he never stops punishing himself and no one got that like this fic nine years ago

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 10 (Finale and true ending)

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tommy Miller x reader

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, and both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

UUUUHHH ya'll i put the warnings there so uh you can't blame me for what I've done.

Before anything i gotta say the "id do anything for you, you amost killed me, that was for you" bit is curtesy of me and @the-fox-den messing around so credits to them XD

I cannot appreciate y'all readership more. I cried writing this on and off not only bc the content but that it's over. full emotions at the end!

Enjoy! (this is not enjoyable.)

***************

“Hey honey.” Tommy’s voice was groggy and sweet in the late morning. “You up already?”

You shuffled your body back, closer to where Tommy lay, warm and inviting… you missed him. You missed him so much. “Yeah just thinking…”

Nestling his face into your face, Tommy holds you tighter, a protective hand over your belly. “What about?” When you didn’t answer, he knew what you were thinking of. “Ah… you miss him, don’t you?” There wasn’t judgment in his voice, just the soft understanding that Tommy always gave, a grace that showed he knew what Joel had done to your mind.

Nevertheless, you tear up, embarrassed at your own weakness for the man who had nearly killed you and your baby. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… he had me so messed up and twisted… I didn’t know which way was up half the time… I felt like I was living in a haze…” You begin to cry, letting the frustrations out.

“Hey, hey now it’s alright. He’s good at that… he’s good at jumbl’n you up enough you can’t see straight… and he’s got that look… something in his eyes when his attention is focused on you… just makes you want to make him happy… I know what you mean… Did he hurt you a lot since I left?”

“No” You shake your head. “That was the strange part… It was… it was good… especially after he found out I was pregnant… It was… it was good, actually. I thought he changed… He didn’t… but I had a lot of freedom, I could do pretty much anything with Lorenzo watching me.” You chuckle a little bit, thinking of your friend. “At first I don’t think he was thrilled to be on babysitting duty, but when he realized he could drink and smoke all day I think he liked it a lot more.”

The smile in his voice was evident. “I’m glad you had a friend after I left, honey.” He brushed hair out of your face. “I saw… I saw Joel a few months back… he said you and Lorenzo had gotten close.”

“Yeah” But the tears came again.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?”

“I never said good bye” You cry. “Lorenzo… everything happened so fast and I didn’t get to say goodbye and now I don’t know if he’s even gonna live.”

Tommy coaxed you to turn over and face him, his face beautiful in the rising orange sun kissing his skin and complimenting his dark hair. “Honey, listen, Maria is gonna make sure he’s taken care of. He’s gonna be okay and once he’s rested up, I’m sure he’ll come to Boston, or at least get word out if he’s got other plans.” Tommy didn’t actually know any such thing but he wanted to comfort you.

“He’s coming to Boston” You assure. “He promised me… and him and Zach are a couple, actually.”

His face was one of confusion, then realization. He chuckled. “Love really just… finds a way, huh?”

When you look into his eyes… you can’t help but agree. “Yeah, it does…” He face was so close to you, it’d been so long since he’d held you… even before he left, you two had grown distant, Joel successfully putting a edge between you two, and you hadn’t spend the time with him you used to, angry and upset with him for reasons that didn't make sense… but that was how badly Joel had messed up your sense of direction. And yet, none of that mattered when Tommy was in trouble. You’d put yourself between Joel’s gun and Tommy, and if you weren’t pregnant you’d do it again. Tommy was always there for you, as much as he could be… he was manipulated by Joel, just like you were, but still he tried… and here he was, sleeping on a cold hard floor with you because he uprooted his entire life with Maria… for you.

The kiss was sudden, you pressing your lips to his and for a sweet, lingering moment he kissed back, chest rising as he breathed through nose, savoring you before pulling back whispering your name. 

“I love you…” You confess, eyes closed and foreheads pressed together.

“Honey, you don’t… you don’t have to feel or do anything just because I’m here-”

“I love you.” More assertive this time. He thinks you feel like you have to, like there's pressure… but you never felt that with Tommy. Tommy wasn’t Joel. Tommy was kind and patient, Tommy was loving and gentle and good… Tommy was the one you loved.

Tommy reached out, caressing your hair. “I love you too, honey, I’m sorry I had to leave you” the words just began spilling out from him, tumbling out Tommy’s mouth like a desperate plea for absolution for sins he never willingly committed. “I’m sorry I never stopped him, I’m sorry I didn’t do more, I’m sorry I left you alone in all that-”

You cut him off with another kiss, needier and lonely, clamoring for a connection. “It’s okay, Tommy. It’s okay. I’m okay now, everything will be okay.” And it would be. You were with Tommy now, and Tommy would keep you safe. You hands wander, trailing down his back as you continued to kiss him, feeling him, getting to know the curves and dips and muscles of him for the first time. Your hands move to undo his pants, but he stops you.

“We don’t- honey you’ve had a traumatic week”

“Tommy, I want you…” You whine, and you did. You did, so fucking bad. You missed Joel, you missed Tommy, your head was swirling with guilt and fear and a deep, deep down ache of loneliness that you didn’t know how to fill other than skin on skin. It was all you really knew. Nearly everyone you had cared about, save for Zach, and Lorenzo showed their love with touch. Even June did, although it wasn’t sexual. Tommy always held you when you cried, sat up in his lap with arms wrapped around you as he did now. “I want you Tommy, please?” You whine. You couldn’t deny that the pregnancy hormones worsened things, making you incredibly needy. “I need you, Tommy”

Tommy sighed. He knows he shouldn’t. The week you’ve had, the year you've had, hell, the entire life you had groomed you into submitting your body to men for money, shelter, affection. This is what you knew. Then there was Maria, his girlfriend who he lived with, with whom he swore fidelity too, who had seen this poor, young traumatized her and willingly let him go because she trusted him… That was the other thing, you were still so young… Tommy had made the comment to Joel that if Sarah had lived, he she would be older than this girl in his arms was now… That should’ve made Joel disgusted… shouldn’t it disgust Tommy too? But Tommy was weak, he knew he was weak… and he loved her, didn’t he? This wasn’t a lust filled rape, this wasn’t him taking advantage of her youth and naivety, they were in love, and she needed him. 

“Yeah baby, I’ll take care of you.” Tommy allowed you to undo his pants while he quickly undid your flannel. In the daylight and as he pulled it and the dress over your shoulders, he could see the full extent of your injuries. Where your collar hid, there was a mixture of purple and green bruising around your neck and throat, accentuated by red from the rope burn, and yet the hardest to stomach was your chest. A large black bruise formed on your chest from the repeated punching. “Oh honey… you’re lucky he didn’t break a rib.”

“I don’t wanna talk about him.” You grumble, beginning to shimmy him out of his pants. “Just want you, Tommy. I want you the right way, like we never got the chance to, the way Joel took from us.”

“The right way” He kissed you, lips full of love, offering protection and solace in the distortion. He wastes no time  pulling your underwear down and slipping a hand to cup your sex, immediately giving you the pleasure he swore he could your first time together, but you had refused. He felt so good, firm and assured in his movements between your legs, but soft and caring, making you feel special in his touch.

You spit in your hand and begin to jerk his cock as you both laid there, your giant belly getting in the way. “Usually wetter, the last month things have been… different” A bit embarrassed, you mutter into his shoulder. You were turned on, very much so, but your lower body didn’t seem to get the message. Joel never seemed to care much. You got wet eventually, especially after cumming, but the in between usually hurt.

“That’s normal.” Tommy assured. “Pregnancy hormones. But I’ll make sure you’re real wet, baby, get on your back.” Doing as you were told, you roll over, Tommy slithering his way down you and pressing affectionate kisses over your swollen stomach. “So beautiful…”

He ate you like a man starved, like a past meal on death row, desperate and savoring every last taste. Joel always felt good, so, so, good, but there was an electricity here, all the built up tension between you two, like a rubber band finally snapping and he couldn’t get enough. Tommy worshiped at the shrine of you, adoration in the prayer on his lips, his arms wrapped around your legs as you grew closer so you couldn’t wiggle away, he needed every second, every inch, every taste, every sound reclaimed for him. It was a conquest, a crusade, a burning need as he licked into your folds, pleasure and fire and love building in your core, fingers opening up to prepare you to take him, fucking into you and god, you were moaning for him.

“Tommy! Tommy please make me cum, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I’ll do anything you want, just-”

“Lay there and take it, princess, that’s all you gotta do.” His head dived back between your legs and eagerly devoured, lips latching on your swollen mound, sucking noisily, soaking your as promised. Two fingers turned into three, and while his lips sucked his tongue flicked at your clit, causing your legs to shake. You entangle your fingers in his long, dark locks, having grown longer since you’ve seen him last and yank him towards you. You didn’t need to guide him, you didn’t need his tongue deeper inside you; he knew what he was doing. What you needed was something to grip onto as your world shattered around you. Tommy was always who you reached for. Everything you needed, Tommy did his best to provide, and when you were terrified, as Joel dragged you away to kill you, all you wanted was your Tommy. You screamed his name as you did now. Gushing cum on his face, you yank at his hair and fuck his face while you ride out your orgasm on his still moving mouth.

Vaguely, you register him kissing his way up your body, laying around you as he couldn’t lay on top, Tommy kissed you back to life, finding his soft eyes staring at you as you open your own… 

“You still want me?” He asks, a rough but caring hand stroking your face.

“More than anything.”

He was careful, he always was with you, treating you like a fragile porcelain doll, but you promised him you could take it and he sped up, fucking you, really fucking you the way you had wanted for months after you grew comfortable in that house. He knelt before you knees on the hard floor but showed no signs of pain as his hips snapped into you, your moans growing louder.

“Tommy!” You call out for him, ecstasy building inside you like the sweat on his forehead.

“Right here honey, I’m right here.” He rubbed your knee that he had braced himself on. “Neve gonna leave you again, I promise.”

“You- you promise?” Looking up at him from this angle… he looked god-like. Tan and strong, but handsome and kind… you wanted him forever, you wanted only him and for him to have only you. He filled you up over and over and over, your hips canting up to meet him.

“Promise, princess. I’ll never leave you, ever. You’re mine.”

His.

“I’m yours” You whine for him, on the precipice of your climax, you just needed…

“And I’m yours. Now, I need you to come, and when you do, I want you to scream my name, okay? Can you do that for me, beautiful girl?” His hand was on your hip, large and rough and covering Joel’s initially branded on you.

You’re panting heavily, so, so close when he sets a brutal pace, spilling you over. 

Tommy thinks this is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. All the times you called for him when you needed him, when Joel was done, when you were hungry or needed to use the bathroom or just were lonely, none of it compared to this…

You scream for him, crying out loudly as he continues to thrust into you, talking you through it like he had the panic attack that had overtaken you when you gave him your virginity.

“Just like that, honey, good girl.” He coo’s, ever letting up on your sensitive cunt. “So pretty coming on my cock, love when you scream my name… there you go, pretty little thing…”

Tommy was right. He made you scream his name louder than Joel’s.

When he came inside you, claiming you as his in a primal, animalistic sense, the cold began to settle on the sheen of sweat between you, and Tommy pulled a blanket over you. A little rest before heading out.

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask.

He didn't need clarification. Tommy knew you well enough. “Yeah, I did. I’m gonna stay with you, honey.”

“What about Maria?”

A fair question, but Tommy sighed nonetheless. “I’ll send word I won't’ be come’n back… I think… I think she knew, she knew before I ever did.”

When the two of you set out on the road again, you wanted to walk for a while. All the riding the last day made you sore and you just walked to stretch your legs, aching joints and pregnant body needing movement. You and Tommy talked, really talked about the future, what it would look like in Boston, wherever it is exactly Lorenzo and Zach had for you… Someone Tess knew? A couple who had been a ‘doomsday prepper’ before… You wouldn’t live on their farm, but in a house nearby. Somewhere fairly safe for you and your baby, and Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy to protect it… Tommy confirmed what you had secretly hoped but could never ask. He’d be your baby's father, he’d raise them with you, loving it as his own.

“Well ain’t that sweet.” You freeze in place when you hear Joel’s voice, the older brother stepping into sight from a tree, gun pointed at you and Tommy. “Fucked my wife, stealing my daughter,” he looks at Tommy. “I can’t believe you’d sink this low, Tommy.”

The irony of who was sinking low was lost on Joel, Tommy was aware. There was no point fighting it. One hand held the reigns of the horse, his right was in the air as yours were. “Joel, c’mon, I know damn well you aren’t going to hurt either one of us so just let-” He was cut off by his own scream, falling against the horse and gripping his upper arm.

“TOMMY!” You scream for him, rushing to his side before Joel shouts to get away. You want to help Tommy… but you had a duty to your child, a duty you knew Tommy would understand. You cried, looking him over. He was still standing, clearly in pain, but blood shooting out of his arm. Nothing vital.

Joel only looked at you. “That’s right, scream his name, little one. Always his name, isn’t it?” Joel stepped forward, ignoring Tommy’s anguished plea’s for him to stay away from you; Joel’s sights were on you and you alone. Nothing else existed, not even his bleeding baby brother. “Sceam’n for him when you think I’m hurting you, when you think I’ve been cruel, when you want his company because I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH”

You barely registered your own tears, the trembling in your stance, knowing there was nothing you could do.

“That’s how I found you, heard you screaming my own fucking brothers name like a whore in that cabin while pregnant with my daughter!”

Shaking your head, you take a weak step back. “Joel, please, I was scared. I was so scared, you tried to kill me-”

“Is that what you think that was?” A cruel, mocking laugh escaped him in his mania before turning to Tommy. “Is that what she told you, Thomas? ‘Oh Tommy!’” His voice was light and girlish as he mimicked you. “‘Oh Tommy, Joel’s so mean to me!’ Well that ain’t the truth. She’s a cheating whore, and she needs to do better for Sarah, so I’m trying to teach her.” 

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the visible confusion on Tommy’s face turn into shock and horror. “Sarah? Jesus Joel! Is that what all this is? You’re trying to recreate Sarah? Or is it the picket fence two parent household you never got with her?” 

“Don’t talk about her!” Joel screamed at the younger man, his attention turning to Tommy, and you watched for your chance.

“SARAH IS DEAD! SHE’S DEAD AND SHE’S NOT COMING BACK!” His next words… Tommy didn’t mean, not one single bit, he witnessed himself how much Joel tried to save his child, the little girl who was the entire world to him… But he needed Joel’s attention on him, he needed to be the focus of Joel’s anger. “SARAH IS DEAD AND IT’S YOUR FAULT!”

You take a step back.

“SHUT UP!” Another scream from Joel.

“MY NIECE IS DEAD BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T LOVE HER ENOUGH TO TRY HARDER-”

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!”

But Tommy already moved, Joel’s teary eyes and blinding anger slowing his perception and Tommy moved the barrel of the gun away from him and you before Joel took the shot.

“RUN!”

And you did. You didn’t know where to, but you ran for your life, for your babies. Hearing a gun go off again, you stop briefly wondering if you just heard either the man you loved or the father of your child die… but there was no time to mourn or think, you needed to go. 8 months pregnant, you do everything you can to keep running, but you are stopped by a blinding pain in your stomach, causing you to scream before you can even stop yourself.

When it fades, you open your eyes to see an infected.

There was no time for pain.

Contractions going again, you prayed for another round of braxton-hicks and not actual labor, you prayed Tommy was alive, you prayed the infected behind you couldn’t move fast due to one thing or another… but you couldn’t stop to look. The adrenalynn did most of the work, as did sheer willpower. You didn’t think you could power through running so fast and so long if it was just you, but the mother instinct to protect this baby went above everything. Like a blessing, you see the cabin you had stayed at and took off towards it, infected at your heels, horrific noises that you shall surely hear the rest of your life should you survive this letting you know there was no time to even wince at a particularly sharp contraction. They were not spaced… and if Lorenzo was right, and if this wasn’t braxton-hicks…. You were going to give birth in this cabin.

The slam of the door behind you did not save you, as soon you found yourself sitting in an empty room with a chair propped against the door as the infected tried to get in, your switchblade gripped in your hands, as the baby tried to come out.

You can’t help but scream in pain; the infected already knew where you were, it was only a matter of time until it came in and you had to be face to face with it for the first time. You’d seen them from afar of course, but you had never been close; someone always protected you, Zach, Lorenzo, Tommy, Joel… you’re whole life you had depended on men to save you from other men and a litany of evils in this world and none of them had been able to stop this. No one stepped in between you and your dad, no one stepped in between you and Joel, and no one would step between you and this abomination… 

But you’d try your damndest to step between your baby and whatever might harm them, and if that meant facing this infected, you’d do it.

When it burst in, you don’t bother hiding our scream; they looked horrific and the sounds were just as bad, but god, the smell was nauseating to your pregnant senses. None of that compared to the genuine fear as you fought for your life and for this baby. The creature was right in your face as you stabbed him, the jackknife now successfully ending two threats to you; the infected and Nick.

The moment you have to breath is gone when you hear the cry of your baby on the floor. You had given birth to a baby girl, just as Joel wanted, alone, with a bite on your leg.

You were infected, and this baby would grow up without a mom and with a psychopath rapist and murder for a dad. Tommy was surely dead, and even if Joel found you in the cabin she’d grow up with Joel. You didn’t believe he’d sexually abuse her, but physically? She’d be lucky if she made it to 10, not the mention the other men around her…

There was no time to cry or to smile, you couldn’t rejoice in the birth of this little girl or cry at the circumstances, you thought back to what Maura instructed you, Joel, and Lorenzo to do in the event you gave birth without her. Using that knife, you cut the cord and tie it.

Had you given birth before the bite? Was she infect? Had all your efforts to protect this innocent been useless? You once again kick yourself for not leaving with Zach any of the times he offered…She’d suffer because of you, if she lived at all. 

As your daughter screams, you scream too, loud and anguished and nameless. You didn’t cry for Tommy, for Zach, for Joel, for Lorenzo or June or anyone that had ever shown they wanted to help… no, you just screamed, because there was no other option.

Tommy had seen you run and tried to follow you, tried to call to you, but you either couldn’t hear him or could defier his voice from Joel who was currently crippled with a shot leg… Tommy couldn’t bring himself to kill Joel… he couldn’t. No matter how much of a big game he talked, Joel was still his big brother, and despite the telling signs of aging and the obvious way Joel was no longer Joel behind those eyes… They were still he eyes, and as Joel looked up at Tommy pointing the gun down on him, Tommy couldn’t fire. He couldn’t fire at the man who had saved his life countless times, the father of his niece, the father of the baby he had swore to raise as his own, and despite the way Joel had clearly lost his mind, lost all sense of reality… Tommy couldn’t kill his brother because yes, that was still his brother.

When he found you, it didn’t take long to figure out what happened, with the baby in your arms and the infected on the ground… your bite was clear and prominent.

“Oh honey… no…” Tommy dropped the gun on the floor and likewise dropped to his knees as he walked to you and the child. A little girl… 

“Tommy, please, please take her. If you don’t want her, take her to Zach and Lorenzo, just please take her-”

“I’ll take her, I’ll raise her, I swear.” Maria and him had talked about kids before… would she want this? Tommy couldn’t stop looking you over, he couldn’t process that you had been bit… this wasn’t a rattlesnake bite, there wasn’t a way to get the venom out… it was over. “I’m sorry.” He cried, tears flowing over before he registered they were coming. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, I’m sorry-”

“Tommy” You stop him, tears matching his. “Tommy, it's okay. Just protect her, okay? That’s what matters now, her.” Everything hurt, and you could swear there was something already changing in you, but maybe it was in your head.

Heavy boots clomping on the floor. “Get away from her.” Joel spoke, his voice low and dark, despite being unarmed. You notice his limp and the blood… Tommy hadn’t shot Joel to kill… and had greatly underestimated what Joel would do to get to you, including walking on a shot leg.

Tommy didn’t even turn around, still holding you and his, yes his baby, because there was no way in hell Joel was walking out with her. “She’s infected, Joel.”

Joel didn’t reply, and you looked up at him over Tommy’s shoulder, confirming it. You nudge Tommy to move, revealing his daughter. You speak before Tommy does. “I cut the cord before I was bit.” Your eyes dart to Tommy. “Before.” You lied, and you knew it was dangerous… but you needed your daughter to have a fighting chance.

Joel shook his head. “No, no we’ll get you help, theres gotta be-”

Grabbing his gun, Tommy turned around. “THERE’S NO HELP, JOEL!” He shouts. “This is your fault! This is all your fault and you can’t fix it!” His steps were long and quick, pinning an unarmed Joel to the wall gun to his head. Tommy was shaking, but you didn’t need to aim to shoot point blank. “I’ll fucking kill you for what you did to them.”

For once, you believed it. 

And it seems Joel did too. “That’s my daughter, Tommy. Yuh ain’t take’n her.” But Joel’s voice was weak, small… 

“Yes he is, Joel.” You speak from the floor. “He’s taking her, and one of you needs to kill me.”

Both of Miller brother turn to you at that, anguish and pain in Tommy’s eyes. “I… I can’t do that… I can’t… Honey, no…” You knew how badly he was hurting right now… but you didn’t want Joel dead, and someone needed to do it. You didn’t know how long you had.

“I know, Tommy. I know.” You smile sympathetically at your lover, and beckon him towards you. Tommy gives Joel a warning look, but takes the pistol off his brother and comes to you. “I know. I know you can’t and that’s okay. You take he, that’s what you need to do for me, okay?” Looking down at the crying baby in your arms you give her a kiss and whisper that you love her before pushing her into Tommy’s welcoming arms. “I know you feel guilty…” Reaching up to touch his face one last time, you smile as he leans into your touch. “Sweet, sweet boy… you have nothing to be ashamed of, you’ve always done right by me. But if you feel you need absolution, this is your chance.”

Tommy looked at the little girl in his arms… she was so small, so fragile… but he would protect her, he would do right by her the way he couldn’t do to you. She was his baptism, his new life, a fresh start. He was a father now. “I will” He looked at you again.

“Her name is Ellie” Fimly, you spoke it into truth. “It’s not Dorthy, it’s not Dolly, its Ellie.” Looking up at Joel, the hurt clear on his face at the erasure of what he wanted to give her, you offer a small mercy, the middle name he agreed on, named after the singer he liked so much, and your friend back home. “Ellie June.”

Tommy nodded. “Ellie June, it’s beautiful.” He touched his forehead to you softly and you slipped your hand to touch Ellie’s little toes. This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none, and this little piggy cried wee, wee, wee… “I’ll never forget you, and I’ll make sure she knows about you, okay? She’s gonna know who you are.”

“Zach… please, get word to Zach somehow, tell him he’s an uncle.”

“I will, I swear.”

“And Lorenzo, Lorenzo said he’d be the godfather. Please thank him for everything he’s done for me.” You sob thinking about your best friend.

“I will, I’ll tell him.”

“And Zach, please tell him I love him so much, and thank him for being my big brother.”

“They both love you, hermosa, I know they do.” He stroked your hair with his free hand.

“Tommy, one more thing?”

“Anything”

“June, please, can you find her? Tell her I loved her, she’s Ellie godmother in spirit.”

“Abslutly, is there anyone else? I’ll do it.”

You shake your head, tears flying as you do. “No, those three… they are all I know- wait, Maura and Jack, Jack risked everything to help me escape, and Maura with my pregnancy” You chuckle a bit. “Who knew dying had so many many loose ends to tie up” You hadn’t realized… you had grown a small community. It had taken a village to keep you and your baby alive.

He smiled. “I’ll tell them all, honey, I promise, especially Zach.” Tommy had an older brother too, and a;thought his had turn into a monster, he understood the love of a protective brother, and would not be who he is without Joel in their childhood and youth.

You whisper a thank you, before sealing his promises with a tearful kiss. When Tommy pulled away, you knew it was time…

“Goodbye Ellie, mommy loves you.”

Then, it was just you and Joel. 

“I never wanted this, little one.” He spoke, voice filled with sincerity and pain. “I know you think I hate you, that I want you to hurt-”

“I don’t think that Joel.” You deny his accusation, but you are honest. For once, you can be honest. “I think you’re a broken man who doesn’t know how to love, but I don’t think you hate me, and I don’t know you never wanted any of this.”

“I loved you! Everything I did was for you!”

“You almost killed me-”

“THAT WAS FOR YOU!” He screamed at you, but it wasn’t rage or fury, it was wretched and broken and him. A heart broken father who had lost his daughter, and is now about to lose his wife, and if Tommy can help it, his brother and baby.

Closing your eyes, you move on. “You can’t have her, Joel.”

He steps closer, boots loud against the creaking floor. “Tommy ain’t taking my daughter, I ain’t losing her.”

A dry laugh. “I’m not sure you ever loved Ellie-”

“Her names not Ellie, it’s Dolly-”

“You loved Sarah, and Ellie was a replacement. What if we had a boy, Joel? C’mon. Let her be, let them go.” Couldn’t he give you this? A deathbed wish to save your baby… 

“No.” But you could tell he was wavering. “That’s my daughter.”

“What’s your plan then? You don’t have day care. The only raiders you could have trusted with her are Tommy and Lorenzo and they are gone. You can’t do it alone… You’ve seen those men gang rape women, you think they won’t rape Ellie?”

“Stop calling her that.”

“You think they won’t beat her, touch her? Even if they don’t, is she suppossed to grow up around violence and rape? You gotta think this through, Joel! There’s no day care, no PTO, you’re two top men just left you, you can’t keep her safe! You can’t protect her, she’s gonna die like-”

“Fine!”

There's a long, shocked silence between the two of you, the gravity of what he’s agreed to give up… You weren’t sure if you believed in god, and if you did, whose god it was… you weren’t sure you believed in an afterlife, or anything of the sort. But if you did… you could be convinced that Sarah’s spirit touched Joel, breaking through his obsession, his mental illness, the delusions he had… to keep her little sister safe. 

“I’ll… she can go with Tommy.” Heartbroken, Joel acquiesced, then knelt in front of your exhausted body. “I know you don’ think I loved you, but… just know I cared, okay? I just-”

“I believe you.” You took in his scent once more. “For what it’s worth, I think maybe we loved each other in our own sick way… It was always gonna end like this… ” You push the jackknife into his hands.

“Where did you get this?” Joel referenced the knife with wooden encasing. 

“Nick’s skeleton.”

Joel couldn’t help but smile “Brave girl” He kissed you, and you allowed it, wanting to taste him just one more time. 

Knife in grip, you taking rough hand and bring it to your throat, tucked under your chin just beneath where your wet faces pressed together, foreheads and noses and lips melding into one as he could consume your soul, bring you into him forever.

“I love you, little one. Always have.”

“And I loved you, Joel.”

“What’s that song you like?”

“Red River Valley”

“Yeah, that’s the one. How did that last line start?”

You smile, eyes closed, and start singing it. “Come and sit by my side if you love me…”

Joel joined in the pair of you singing together. “Do not hasten to bid me adieu, but remember the the red river valley” You’re voice choked up so bad on the last word, you couldn’t finish it.

You think back to the night Ellie was conceived, the night Tommy left, they way Joel fucked you, words uttering into life the possession he had over you. It was foolish to think you could be free of him in this life. That pain? The pain is mine. Your cries are mine, your cunt is mine. And if you bleed?

Joel sang the last line for you, voice as soft as a whisper.. “And the cowboy who loved you so true.”

His lips pressed a final kiss and you felt the sharp pain and oozing liquid leaving you, your gasps and cries of pain stifled by his mouth. Eventually, the warmth of the blood enveloped you into darkness, and the agony of this life you were subjected to since childhood ended.

If you bleed? Your blood is mine.

Joel inhaled your last breath into his, sucking in the evidence of your life with his lips attached to yours until his head grew dizzy from lack of oxygen. Your blood was cooling on his body.

Joel limped out of the room, covered in her blood, only to find Tommy rocking a baby in one arm and a gun aimed at Joel with the other, tears streaming down his face.

“You killed her.” Tommy stated the obvious.

Not even bothering to raise his hands, Joel replied. “The infected killed her, Tom-”

“No.” The low tone of voice warned of something serious, and Joel pondered if Tommy was capable of actually killing him. “You did this. All of this. This last year you beat and tortured and raped her and made her think this was love. Calling her your wife, Joel?” Tommy shook his head in disgust. “I didn’t think you were capable of this, even after everything.”

Joel glowered his eyes at Tommy, not happy to have this talk again. “I didn’t see you ever stop’n me, Tommy.”

“No.” Tommy’s answer was candid. “That’s my cross to bare. And she-” he needed down to the sleeping baby in his arms. “She’s my vindication, and I’m gonna do right by her.”

Joel held out his hands, causing Tommy to step back. “Give me my daughter, Tommy.”

Worry crossed his face. “You promised-”

“I just wanna say goodbye” It was rare Joel spoke like this… so quiet, so soft… But Tommy didn’t trust him. “No, you-you’ll hurt her.”

The way Joel looked in Tommy’s eyes was earnest… so much hurt and sadness Tommy felt like he was actually looking at his brother again… “I’d never hurt my daughter.”

Tommy believed him. “Gun to your head the whole time. You try to take her away, I shoot you.”

“Okay.”

He was right, the gun was pressed to his head as Joel said his goodbye. “I love you. No matter what anyone tells you, I love you, and I loved your mom. She’s up in heaven watching out for you, she’s there with your big sister, your grandparents, everyone. They love you, just like I do, just like Tommy does. I’m gonna protect you still, okay? Jackson is under my protection, nothing bad’s gonna happen to you or your family.” Joel will protect his daughter with his life, and that means protecting those who care for her. Tommy, Maria, all of Jackson. As long as she's taken care of they are safe. “I love you, baby girl.”

Hesitantly, Joel handed Ellie back to Tommy, her new daddy, and he felt like he was letting go of a peace of himself. Nother brother bothered hiding the tears.

“I never want to see your face again, Joel. Do not come near me or my child ever again.”

Joel wanted to argue, to say it was his daughter, and he could take her whenever he wanted… But she was right. Ellie was better off with Tommy. Tommy could provide a stable home, with a mom and a dad, a community to make friends, school, church, and most importantly, safety. Tommy was younger, he could keep up with a child, fight off what he needed to… Tommy was a good uncle to Sarah… he’d be a good dad to her.

“Tommy, wait” But Tommy kept walking. “Wait!”

“SHHH!” Tommy whipped around, whispering harshly. “You’ll wake her!” 

As if Joel didn’t raise a whole child himself. “Just… here.” Joel cleaned of the knife and handed it to a nervous Tommy. “For her.”

Tommy glared at the gift. “You want me to give her the knife you killed her mother with?”

“She killed the infected with it, and that’s what I killed Nick with… I used it to ortect her, and she used to to protect… Ellie.” Joel said her name outloud now. “You don’t have to tell her about me just… I want her to have something, please?”

Tommy stared at Joel for several moments. He hated Joel… but he’d always live him. Joel raised him most of his life, and they raised Sarah together. Joel was his brother, always, and the reason his now-daughter existed. “I’ll tell her about Sarah. I’ll… She’ll know she has a sister.” A fresh tear escaped, Tommy wiped it with the sleeve of the arm holding the knife as he sniffled at the mention of his precious niece he loved so much. “I dunno how I’m gonna explain the rest, but she’ll know she had a sister.” A deep breath. “And she’ll have her knife, so no matter what… you both with be protecting her, okay?”

Joel nodded.

“But you can’t go after the others. Zach, Lorenzo, Jack, Maura, got it? They are gonna suffer enough. With this news, just… leave them be.”

Joel agreed, then explained his horse is out front, a quick ride back to Jackson. Joel would walk back on his wounded leg. “Thank you, Tommy. I love you. I’m always gonna love you, even if you hate me.”

Turning on a heel, Tommy walked away, carrying little Ellie, taking off his scarf to wrap around her in the cool weather. It wasn’t anything too cold, the sun was out and shining at least, and no wind. Tommy was dead set and determined to walk away, to never speak to his brother again… but he stopped. He didn’t look back, but he spoke, quiet but just loud enough for Joel to hear. “I love you too, hermano.”

With that, Joel watched the only two things left in this life that he loved, walk away.

***********

Joel at the end, what Tommy see’s as Joel exits the room after murdering little one

Art my @melodymakesart

Continue the story 16 years latter with Ghost of You, Ellie’s journey in finding out the truth

Wow. WOW. I cannot thank you guys all enough for how much support i've gotten on this series. Biggest thank you's to the-fox-den, dinsbaby, foggymoonbanana, primos world, Fen, my dear maura, miraclesabound, not a unique snowflake blog and koshkaj for always leaving such nice comments! (everyones comments are appriacted and loved i just see these guys do it every single chapter without fail.)

also thanks to everyone who reached out about the bomb threat. we are all doing much better now.

I love you al so much and cannot ever express how much the reaction to this series has touched me.

That's right, the baby is Ellie.

I do want to say, that in this series, since reader isn't Anna, this means Ellie can look like anything, no matter the race. It just matters she's ellie and she's immune. Little one isn't a great reader, she's largely oc but i wanted to keep things as inclusive as i could instead of an OC

and i did say major character death ;-; good bye little one. You deserved better.

THOUGHTS?!?!?! shout out to spadesjade on ao3 who correctly guess that little one dies and tommy and maria raise the baby!

Remember, there's still the alt ending! This one will be a bittersweet, happier ish ending.

As always, if you hate both endings, my fics are open for you to write your own version of the end or use this universe in anyway. And if you'd like, i'll add it to the masterlist for additional reading!!!

In the mean time, come read Dirty Little Secret, my dark!joel one shot

LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!

Remember, reblogs spread the work, comments motivate!!!!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana@dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld@marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lunar-ghoulie @pedritosdarling @dreamonseems @alwaysdjarin @amoramorquetepintas @milla-frenchy

[rimunagenius]

Existing

pairing: Daryl x genneutral!reader

summary: Y/N realizes hiding their feelings is becoming far too much so their only solution is to distance themselves from Daryl. When Daryl confront Y/N, secrets are revealed and new bonds are created.

era: season 7 (Negan and saviors don’t exist, Glenn never died — that was purely to fuel my delusional brain that Glenn is happily living his life with Enid, Maggie, and Hershel (:)

words: i have no clue (sorry y’all….no im not.)

A/N: Whoo! This is officially my second Daryl x reader fic, and please please PLEASE if i slipped another pronoun like he or she, please comment or message me to correct me so i can fix it. Or if gender nuetral pronouns are wrong all together, correct me please i want to make sure it’s correct so no one feels singled out or misgendered on my page!! thank you sexies!! It’s a force of habit, i write a lot of fem!reader stuff on wattpad and stuff so thanks! Hope you enjoy, this might be shit bc it’s unedited or bc i just actually suck at writing 🥳

warnings: slight angst?? fluff

REQUESTS OR WTV THEYRE CALLED ON HERE, ARE OPEN!!

NOT MY GIF!!!

————

It was known to everyone that you liked Daryl and that he liked you. There was definitely no hiding it. It was common knowledge to anyone in the community.

Everyone saw the way you looked at him with the utmost admiration. He was strong — mentally and physically — he always treated you with respect, nothing less. He was there whenever you needed him and he understood you and never judged you. He was perfect. How could you not look at him like he was the human embodiment of perfection.

Daryl was never one to reveal too much about himself. He never found it in himself to tell anyone his past, never wanted to say too much before they looked at him like he was someone else and not the Daryl they already knew. He wanted to be seen, not judged and listened to without being left out of fear or inferiority. He just wanted to finally fit in and not be seen as the ‘redneck trash asshole’ everyone already thought he was. He was never seen as anything less but a human with feelings who deserved a chance when it came to you. He always felt unconditionally loved — protected. He always felt seen with you, and he never felt like you were judging him like almost everyone else did. He was grateful that the end of the world gave him someone like you.

“Hey sunshine!” You tried your best to mimick his southern drawl as you patted his back, falling in rythym with Daryl’s steps alongside him.

He looked down at you, smirk prying at the corner of his lush lips, scoffing his usual scoff when it came to you. Always playful, never malicious. Even though he had many scrapes and bruises, which you have yet to notice on the man, he took his time getting to the infirmary if it meant he spent just a little time with you.

“Hey.” His face dropped any trace of amusement when he saw your face fall into a look of worry.

“Oh my god, Daryl! Your bleeding!” You immediately stood infront of him, halting his tracks as you examined his body for any more injuries. “C’mon, let’s go.” Grabbing his hand, you dragged him to Denise, grabbing the supplies to do it yourself while she tended to other victims of the difficult run. You were a nurse before the fall so you spent most of your time in Alexandria helping Denise. You actually had the supplies to aid everyone, instead of scrounging for makeshift supplies when you were on the road.

Grabbing gauze and disinfecting liquid, you cleaned his blood crusted scrapes, and managed to convince him to let you clean up his face. “Why are ya like this, Y/N?” He flinched as you reached to clean the cut above his brow. You scoffed at the man. You were flabbergasted as to why he was questioning your motives.

“Uh, because I care Daryl. I’m never not gonna care.” You looked at him as it was obvious. Because to you, and apparently everyone else but him, it was. You truly loved that man. You truly cared for him and wanted nothing but the absolute best for him. He looked at you like you were crazy for caring this much about a guy like him. “But why? I could’a done this myself. I don’ need yer’ help.” He didn’t wipe the look off his face. He was genuinely confused.

“You have protected all of us. Ever since Atlanta, the farm…You never stopped caring and protecting us. No one really batted an eye to you for it. But it’s about damn time someone starts taking care of you, and I plan on doing just that til’ the day I die, Dixon.” You gave him a warm smile as you placed a small kiss on his forehead as you continued to tend to his wounds.

He recalled that memory everytime he thought of you and your beautifully kind heart. He remembered the warm fuzzy feeling he had gotten when he looked into your eyes that night. He felt like he was lost and your beaming light, your smile, you…brought him where he always belonged. Home.

You both felt at home with eachother. Regardless if both of you were aware of the others feelings or not. Regardless if you both met someone, neither you or him, would dare spend your borrowed time apart. You needed him like he needed you. Even if it had been purely platonic, neither of you would care. You two were eachothers anchors, keeping the other grounded. You saved eachother. You weren’t letting eachother go until the both of you were dead.

Although the idea of the relationship being platonic and you willing to be okay with that under the right circumstances, you hated the idea of it now. You knew Daryl wasn’t seeing anybody, or atleast you had a good idea. He would’ve told you, or Carol, which would’ve inevitably circled back to you. ‘I am going to die on this ship. A captain never abandons her ship’ Carol always teased you about your little crush on Daryl. She was infact very shameless of the teasing. It only increased when she learned that the feelings were mutual.

But the constant feeling of butterflies, the blush pink rising in your cheeks significantly everytime he spoke to you or said your name the way he always did, the sudden loss for words whenever you tried to speak your mind was something you couldn’t take anymore. Telling Daryl was detrimental to your state of mind from here on out. He needed to know.

That was the problem though, you had been avoiding him for days after you decided to distance yourself from the archer because being around him, feeling the way you felt, was something that was unsettling to you. You knew he knew that you were avoiding him. He would walk in your direction and you’d quickly turn around in the other. It was getting easier to avoid him because you had memorized the days he told you he’d be gone on runs and doing handiwork around the community.

This however, wasn’t one of the easier times. You were wrapping your conversation up with Maggie and Glenn when you turned heel, on your way to your home. You didn’t make it far before you bumped into a broad chest that belonged to none other than him.

“Hey, what’s up with ya’? Why is my favorite girl avoidin’ me. Did I do somethin’. If I did, I’m so sorry sunshine.” Daryl was quick to apologize. For what? He couldn’t tell you. All he knew was that he wanted the cold shoulder you gave him to dissapear and be replaced with the warm love you both mutually shared. He couldn’t do that if you weren’t talking to him.

“Nothing. Excuse me.” You tried your best not to look him in the eyes and let loose all the feelings you wanted to scream into his face to make him understand that you truly, deeply loved him. You trudged up your pearly white steps into the beautiful home you, Rosita, and Tara shared.

You were only able to unlock the door and take one step into the home before you were met with his hand connecting to your forearm, stopping your movements completely. “Hey, you can talk ta’ me. Ya’ know I would never do nothin’ to hurt you, right? Look, Y/N. I’m sor-“

“Can you stop apologizing! You did nothing wrong, Daryl. Hell, you never do wrong,” Your voice faltered at the end, your head falling as you collected your breath and gained the courage to just come clean. You looked into your favorite blue eyes, your eyes already starting to fill with frustrated tears; some betraying you, already cascading down your face. “Daryl. I cannot keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that we’re just friends because I don’t think we should be.”

“Wait—you don’ wanna be friends no more?” Daryl felt his heart break in two. He hoped he misread the situation and it was just your horrible delivery. He prayed the only person he loved with everything in him, wasn’t leaving him. He refused to be left. Not again.

“Not when everytime I look at you all I think about is what it’d be like to hold you in my arms every chance i get. To know what it’s like to kiss you because that’s all I think about. Being the first person you see when you wake up in the morning and the last person you talk to at night. I can’t be your friend when all I want is for us to be more than that, Daryl.” Your frustrated tears were showing no mercy as you tried so hard not to cry infront of him. You didn’t want to make him feel bad into giving into what you wanted. The last thing you wanted was make him do something he didn’t want to. That’d hurt you more.

“Y/N-“ Daryl was ready to commit. He was ready, for you. He wanted this just as much as you did. He didn’t get to deliver his confession before you cut him off, wanting to get it all over and done with.

“No, Daryl. I can’t. I can’t think without you. It’s like my whole body relies on you. My whole damn life is you, I literally can’t breathe because i’m waiting for you. Hoping and waiting til’ the day you come to me and tell me you want me forver. You own me, Daryl. You control me. I belong to you.” There was no running now. You had just said everything you could ever say the best you could. You just hoped it was enough. Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way too. Your chest heiving in big waves as you tried to catch your breath. You didn’t realize telling him how you felt took all the breath out of your lungs. Your words so powerful they left you breathless.

You were embarassed. You told him how you felt and as you spoke his expression, the look on his face, honestly terrified you. You weren’t gonna take it back beacuse you meant every word. You’d wait. No matter how long it took.

He wasted no more than a second to step foward, your chests almost touching. He wanted you to hear him. He wanted you to see him. When he talked, you always listened; he rarely talked because you usually did all the talking but he never minded it. He could listen to you all day long. Now, it was his turn and he’d be damned if he wasted probably the only chance he would ever get to tell you how much he loved you.

“You own me! You control me, I belong to you. I love you, Im in love with you, yer’ the love of my life. My every feelin’ is controlled by the look on yer’ face. I can’t breathe without ya’. I can’t sleep without ya’. I wait for ya’, I watch for ya’. Goddamit — I fuckin’ exist for you, Y/N.”

Both of you didn’t know what to say. You had both stood there screaming your feelings in the others face and now…neither of you had anything to say. You stood there, searching eachothers eyes, face, and body as you waited for the other to speak.

“So…that’s it?” You broke the silence as you looked up at the man. He didn’t know what to do other than look into your eyes. He slipped his hand into yours, slowly entangling your fingers as your lips curled up due to the gesture.

“I guess it is. What d’ya say we go wash up and you can be the last person I talk to before I go to sleep at night?” He swiped a piece of your hair behind your ear, and gave you a genuine smile. This was new. Well, not new but he rarely did this, even when you guys were together hanging out. You hid your face in your hands, the embarrassment blush creeping into your cheeks.

“Shut up.” You mumbled. “Nah. Ya’ asked for this.” He replied as he pulled your hands away from your face. You put up a fight, not ready to face the man with your cheeks being extra blushed. “C’mon. Where’s my pretty girl?” You felt weak in the knees as you looked up at him and pressed a soft, warm kiss to his lips.

“Theres my sunshine.” His smile now faltering to a smirk. He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs into your room.

You both didn’t expect the outcome of tonight. The whole admitting your feelings, yelling in eachothers face to get them to understand that you loved them so fiercely you were willing to scream it at them, to hell with whoever eavesdropped. You both didn’t care who heard you that night. All that mattered was that you and Daryl now had eachother. Forever. That’s all that mattered.

“Do you think they saw us?” Tara looked down to the relaxed girl splayed on her lap.

“No I don’t think so. But I didn’t think Dixon had the balls to admit that to Y/N. Go him.” She laughed breathlessly as she took another swig of her wine.

“Ok because that would’ve been super awkward. Atleast we all don’t have to vomit in our mouths anymore after seeing how freaking clueless they were of eachothers feelings.” Tara looked up the stairs hearing the door close, and shower starting to run as she settled and finished her glass along with her friend.

“Dibs on telling Carol first!” Rosita shot up from her spot on Tara’s lap as she bolted out the back door, opening the gate to Carol and Ricks yard, bursting through the doors ready to tell the woman the news. Tara yelling incoherent curses as she didn’t make it in time behind Rosita to beat her to it. Their door slamming, echoing through the house and into the bathroom you and Daryl currently occupied.

“What was that?” Daryl asked as he looked down at you, your eyes closed as you washed the soap from your hair as he admired you doing it.

“I don’t know I think Rosita or Tara just got home. They’ll probably go straight to bed so we’re good until tomorrow.” Switching with Daryl, you scrubbed the soap in his hair out as the water washed the suds of his built frame.

You both continued your shower, totally unaware of the teasing you’d both receive for ‘finally making it official, Rick’s words not yours.

I guess you both would have to wait til the morning after you’ve woken up from the most blissful sleep you’d have in months before your friends had free reign. All that mattered was that you and yours were finally happy, with no more secrets. Just simply existing for the other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[solitaireships]

Rest Your Head

So I had this fic mostly written for Clorinde for a long time, and then was under the impression that for some reason I had finished it and just hadn't posted it bcs I was never having the right energy for that. It turns out I did not actually finish it, so I finished it now and present it to you! I get pretty bad headaches a lot so I like thinking about my f/os helping to relax with that

Rating: Gen

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort kind of

Words: 1035 words

Divider by saradika

Headaches seem to be the ever present bane of Andromeda’s existence. While she might not have them daily, they’re frequent enough to be a constant nuisance. Tonight she finds herself stuck at home from her headache, the lights as dim as possible but still managing to bother her head. She’s been lying in bed for the past hour now, only half conscious as she tries to rest her eyes. It’s a harder task than it should be with her racing thoughts, which only seem to make the throbbing of her head worse. 

The sharp sound of knocking on the door is enough to draw a pained groan from Andromeda as her head pounds to the rhythm of the noise. She forces herself out of bed, making her way to the front door. She should have closed her bedroom door— if she did it would’ve been easier to ignore whoever is at the apartment’s front door. 

Though as she opens the door, she regrets getting up less. 

“Oh, Clorinde,” Andromeda says, doing her best to sound unaffected by her headache. “Hi.”

“You didn’t make it to our dinner, so I was worried,” Clorinde says. She looks past Andromeda into the apartment, noting the dim lights. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” 

She says it as a reflex. Andromeda hates admitting when she isn’t fine, even in moments like these. But she reminds herself that Clorinde deserves better than her hiding things, especially when she just bailed on her for a date. She can’t believe that she forgot about it— normally she would have remembered and taken a painkiller to power through. 

“Sorry, I— I have a pretty bad headache right now. Our date must have slipped my mind, we can try to reschedule if that’s okay,” Andromeda says. 

“It’s alright, we can try again tomorrow,” Clorinde says. “May I come in?”

“I don’t know how good company I’ll be right now.”

“We don’t have to talk if you’re not up to it.” Clorinde steps into the apartment, taking her shoes off as Andromeda closes the door behind her. “Would rest help?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was doing before. I know it’s not the most interesting way to spend your time, though.”

“We don’t always have to do interesting things together. I’d be glad to do anything as long as it’s with you,” Clorinde says. 

“Oh,” is all Andromeda can manage in response to that. She and Clorinde have been together for a while now, but it’s rare for either of them to give such gentle, direct affections like that. If she weren’t in the middle of fighting off a headache, she might have been able to come up with something more appropriately affection in return, but instead she just manages to say, “Okay.”

“Go to bed,” Clorinde suggests. “I’ll join you in a minute, I just should take off some of these layers first.”

“You don’t need to rush,” Andromeda says.

“I won’t,” she replies.

Andromeda only barely manages to make it to her room without stumbling, turning off the lights completely and collapsing into bed. Were she in a clearer state of mind, she might have felt worse about their date night turning into staying in, but instead all she can think of is enjoying the silence and surrounding darkness. She settles under her blankets, eyes closing as she tries to relax and soothe her headache.

It doesn’t take long for Clorinde to make her way into the bedroom. She’s taken off her hat and cape, stripping down to her button up shirt and skirt without anything else over top of them. Even as out of it as she is, Andromeda can appreciate how she looks dressed down, more relaxed than usual.

“Are you awake?” Clorinde asks, voice low so as not to wake Andromeda if she was asleep.

“You know I don’t go to sleep that quickly,” she replies in a whisper. “Maybe if my headache gets better we can go out a little later?”

“Only if you’re feeling up to it,” Clorinde replies as she settles into bed. She guides Andromeda closer to her, letting her rest her head on her chest. “For now, just get some rest. Anything else can come later.”

“Alright,” Andromeda says. “Thank you, and I’m sorry again.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. A rest will be good for both of us,” Clorinde promises. 

And it’s easier for Andromeda to sleep with her saying that. She relaxes against Clorinde, eyes closing as sleep beckons to her far faster than it usually does. Consciousness comes and goes as she fights a battle she knows she cannot win against her headache, but it’s a comfort to know she’s riding this out with her girlfriend. 

Andromeda wakes up only half aware that she had fallen asleep. Peering at the clock on the other side of the room shows she must have been asleep for an hour by now though. It’s unlike her, she’s never been someone who naps often. Usually it’s only when she’s sick. But she supposes her headache counts as being sick. 

At least she’s feeling better now. She still has a faint headache, but it’s less unbearable. She’s sure if she had to, she could go about her life like normal without too much issue. 

Not that she would want to right now. She wakes up with her head resting against Clorinde’s chest, one arm draped across her middle. She must have fallen asleep too, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, one hand resting on Andromeda’s back. 

She looks peaceful when she sleeps. Clorinde is a hard worker, and someone who’s always more focused on her duties as a Champion Duelist. It’s good to see her getting some rest for once, and Andromeda can’t bring herself to disturb her. 

So she presses a quick kiss to Clorinde’s shoulder before cuddling up against her, eyes closed. Maybe she’ll wake up in a moment and they can do some more typical date activities, maybe she’ll stay asleep and the two of them will talk in the morning. But for now, Andromeda is glad for this moment, and for the comfort of Clorinde at her side as she rests her head.

[forabeatofadrum]

Hello folks! Happy Out of Touch Thursday. I am a day late, because yesterday I was out and about all day, so thank you @facewithoutheart​, @confused-bi-queer​, @wellbelesbian​ and @artsyunderstudy​ for the tags.

It is actually a great timing, because today I found out that I have passed my thesis! Guys, I think I just kind of graduated university. My advisor sent me this:

Not going to lie, I expected a better grade (I got a 6.5), but you know what, I accept it. I had a lot of problems with my thesis and I most of the time felt like I had no clue what I was doing, so I am glad that I made it. Not only that, but I had fun doing it, most of the time. The real grade is the friends we made along the way or something.

I will make sure y’all can read it if you want. As mentioned, I can put it in my university’s thesis repository, but then it’ll be in Dutch so I will translate it for my “international audience”. I do want to come back to this question: do you guys think it is allowed on AO3?

Anyway, the moment I handed in my thesis on Sunday I just started fic writing. I even made a meme about it, because of course I did. I’ll put the snippet under the cut with the weather.

So yeah I just finished 6 chapters of Ljubim te but not the upcoming one. Fun. I also worked a bit on the Quinn side-story, because yes, there is a Quinn side-story. Not only that, but I have gotten ideas for the final chapter and then it’ll be over.

I actually hope to have this fic finished before I go on vacation, because that would be lovely, but I am not going to force it. I’m glad I am finally seeing the end, because I am excited to share the story with you.

Here’s some stuff from Ljubim te to begin with:

“Oh, there is a hat shop over there,” Kurt says after Quinn’s detailed everything about her fancy beret. It’s a bit on the nose, but it is stunning and it keeps the sun out of her eyes. “You should check it out.”

Kurt gives Quinn the route towards Rikoma, Miha Kotar s.p.

Quinn beams towards Blaine.

“Oh babe, I keep telling you to not slick back you hair, so that you can wear a fancy hat as well. We should go there!”

Kurt’s stomach churns when he hears the term of endearment.

Kurt and Quinn await Blaine’s reaction. It’s an out. They’ve had their dinner and they can go. Kurt has given him a way out, and he didn’t even mean to. But to Kurt’s surprise, Blaine declines.

“How about you check it out,” he says to Quinn.

“Oh. Okay.” Quinn seems as surprised as Kurt.

Yes, Quinn is a hat person in this fic. I don’t know when that started, but it first because the hat shop is actually really nice. AND the new VIGÒ store is apparently next to it. In fact, when I saw the location of the new VIGÒ my first thought was: “No, the hat shop is gone???” but it isn’t. They’re neighbours.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @martsonmars @shrekgogurt @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @whatevertheweather​ @nightimedreamersghost​

[bonkbobl]

omg hello !!! it’s me again (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و i’m so shocked that you wrote such great masterpieces in a short amount of time,, i was literally keeping an eye out on your acc because i looked forward to your continuation of beautiful fool so imagine my surprise when you posted not only the continuation, but two more separate one shots !! i literally DEVOURED all of them upon finding out you posted,, make a deal or play a game might have to be my new favorite of yours… he was so freakin devious making the reader beg for him 😭😭 (but so hot???!!!!) i was blushing the whole time agsjdgsj,,, he was so mean but so gentle??? got me giggling and kicking my feet 🤭 i also really loved happy to please (let’s be real here i love all your writings so far THEY WERE ALL SO GOOD)??? reader making him go feral there was so 🤭 i could totally see him pampering her and overstimulating her,, she’s shy but cheeky and devoted and sweet to him and he’s always so surprised like “… i can’t believe she really likes me…” the feeling of being wanted makes him go crazyyyyy LIKE???? … can u imagine the reader shying away during an intimate act of theirs at the end of a long day (maybe she hides her face in her hands bc she’s feeling to much of something) and he’s just like “no i wanna see you” and she’s just flushed and he’s goes even more feral?? (dude what if he interlocks his hands with hers and kisses her like????) what are your thoughts on this 🤔 (i just really like the idea of him going feral over whatever she does lol) anyways, ur a genius dear author <33 i hope you’re having a great time of day wherever you are !! i look forward to reading more of your writing if you have any that are a wip :)) take care !! (thank u for the meals bc u really served <333 i will def be re-reading them hehe) — 🩰 anon

stop it you're so sweet idk who you are but i love you 😭

ok about how quickly i'm writing these, i surprised even myself with that because even a couple years ago when i was at the peak of my fanfic writing days, i'd post like once a day (on my old blog which i deleted) and i've never been that productive again. im happy that people like roose though theres like a noticable lack of content for him.

AND YEAH SDLKFJDF happy to please only came up in my head because i saw a tiktok that said book roose said his first two wives would lay there silently and he found it somewhat endearing that walda would actually be vocal, which i thought was kind of sweet and out of character for him to say. my mind started wandering to what it would look like in action.

i can absolutely imagine like the second time they have sex, reader is very shy, covering her face as you said. and when roose tells her that he wants to see her, she forces herself to look at him. i think the dynamic i wrote in this fic, he's more loving with her so he'd probably prefer to take reader in missionary, particularly with his forearms resting on either side of her head, forehead pressed to hers. it'd make every noise she makes more audible, every microreaction more visible, and every time he wants to he can just lean down and brush her lips with his.

reader's probably braver and tries less to hide her pleasure going into the future.

roose probably never felt this kind of passion with anyone and he'd actually feel excited to bed her, sometimes catching his thoughts wandering during the day. then he snaps himself out of it and is like bruh im stupid theres so much work to do rn and im thinking about my wife. but seeing her is definitely always the highlight of his day.

on the overstimulation, i think reader probably helped him realize how much he likes eating pussy for sure. because shes so sensitive and reactive and she'll grab his hair and buck against his face shamelessly. he just thinks she's the most beautiful, most sexy thing he's ever seen and even after reader has cum so many times, it's addictive to him. he's always like "one more, i know you can give me one more, sweet wife."

its so much to the point of like when he finally fucks her, reader is squirming around so much and he has to calm her down with little kisses to her forehead and temple. and she can feel it every time his pelvis rubs against her clit.

i will be serving hot meals. i dont really know if i can finish by tonight but i have a lot of wips cooking up. i dont know how my posting frequency will change after school starts though so we'll see (it's starting soon)

[misiwrites]

Mayblade Days 1 & 2

i got a questionable idea of trying to write a fic for @may-blade where each daily prompt makes up one chapter… will i be actually able to keep up with it? idk. i have to write really fast if i want this all done and posted on time, so this is very first draft tier writing

high school AU, a focus on hiromi and tyhil, set in a culturally ambiguous setting of a "bey town". this will be a bit different from what i usually do because i decided to throw in as many ships as i can fit (for high school shenanigans) and many are stuff i've never posted before, tyhil included. it felt like a fitting ship for a school AU and goes well with a side dish of reimax (and all this other stuff i'll sprinkle in) so here goes nothing. just gonna go bonkers with it. may clean this up later for posting on AO3, may not if i don't manage to even finish it, which is possible

and i flipped days 1 and 2 so i'm posting both at the same time. it felt sensible not at all because i ran out of time on monday

prompts: school, unpopular character characters: hiromi focus; see each chapter for who's included bc even i don't really know yet pairings: hiromi/takao; same as above

Hiromi is a first-year in Bey Town High where the majority of students engage in afterschool club activities. When her only friend in school quits their club with no other members, she's forced to venture outside her comfort zone and try to make more friends.

CHAPTER 1 prompt: school characters: hiromi, emily, mentions of others pairings: --

“So, what now? Are you going to quit the club for good?”

Emily’s chin dropped. “Well…”

“So you are.”

“I’m sorry, Hiromi – but you know how much I need the scholarship. Prioritizing the tennis club is the only sensible thing to do. It’s okay if you’re angry with me.”

“I’m not angry,” Hiromi said, though she was a little. She stared down at her fidgeting leg.

“It’s not like we really need a club to keep meeting like this, anyway. I mean…” Emily’s hand gestured vaguely around the space they were in, the lousy excuse for a clubroom they didn’t have; since its foundation in the beginning of the school year, their astrology club had been holding its meetings at the end of a musky corridor in the cellar floor of the school, next to some rusty pipes and other unfitting backdrops, where a perpetual waft of paint and some cleaning agent lingered in the air.

Alright, so maybe their astrology club didn’t have a clubroom. And maybe it had only two members, which were Hiromi and Emily. And, just maybe, they could as well have done their astrology-related geeky stuff literally anywhere else, such as either the Tachibana residence or the Watsons’, but. But but but.

“And, you know,” Emily then decided to put into words what Hiromi precisely didn’t want to hear, “maybe you could go check out some other clubs, too. It would be a good way to meet new people…”

The fidgeting intensified. Em, don’t do this to me.

“…and maybe even make new friends,” the ginger finished, tentatively.

“I don’t want to join other clubs.” Hiromi preoccupied herself with picking stray lumps of lint off her hoodie while talking. “Everyone’s got their own cliques already. It would be awkward. Nobody wants a random weirdo forcing herself into their group in the middle of the year.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. The people in this school aren’t as bad as you think, Hiromi. And you’re not a weirdo.”

That was easy for Emily, fairly popular and a rising youth tennis star, to say. Hiromi, on the other hand, was an unathletic tomboy with few redeeming social qualities; she was studious and quite enjoyed school, had never been the out-going type, and preferred putting an effort in homework over partying or whatever it was that others did in their free time; she had no impressive hobbies to speak of, as her main interests were geeking out about all things spiritual or supernatural and collecting old books; she had plain brown hair and brown eyes and had never been the type to pour copious amounts of time and money into her hair, make-up, or clothes.

Her personality was on the serious side, she wasn’t a playful jokester or a vending machine for clever one-liners like all the popular girls seemed to be. She had never been the bestie that someone would choose first for anything, she’d never been part of a tight-knit group, and she’d never had a real relationship with anyone. No, it would be awkward to the extreme to squeeze herself into some club now – not to mention that she wasn’t terribly interested in, well, almost anything mainstream. She wasn’t very artistic or good at games or well-versed with popular culture other than the couple of shows she religiously followed (and even then, she wouldn’t have joined a club for those because the extent of her nerdiness was definitely embarrassing).

She was, simply put, just a normal girl. Just a Hiromi. She couldn’t become something she was not.

For a minute longer, Emily tried to persuade her to come check out the tennis club, or maybe the rest of the sports clubs. Hiromi gave her a tentative “maybe later” while harboring feelings of intense disinterest.

No, she thought, I’m not giving up on the astrology club that fast.

The following morning was the first time in months that a nervous sweat threatened to dampen her palms as she walked the short way to school. She had so perfectly adapted to her role of being invisible in class already, now she’d have to actually start a conversation with someone new for the first time in weeks. It made her heart thrum uncomfortably. She’d even forgotten to properly prepare for the morning group class. Very uncharacteristic of her.

She took her usual seat by the window near the back of the room, set her backpack to the side, and turned to look at her class. A critical thought. Who in here could I in any sensible way imagine at least consider joining the astrology club?

And there it was: her group, 1-A. Stitched together from wildly different types of people by the infallible hand of the one and only Bey Town High.

Emily, who sat next to her, had yet to arrive. The few other girls she’d done as much as talked to before sat near the front of the classroom, including Ayaka whom she didn’t know much about – apart from the fact that she had a jerk of an older brother who was part of the school’s most notorious bully squad, which effectively kept anyone from starting any shit with her – and Salima, the school council president. Salima seemed alright, always cool and collected; she had a mature air to her that alleviated the intimidation factor. Next to Salima, as always, sat Kane – the two were inseparable, for all Hiromi had seen so far. Even now, as she ogled the pair from her seat in the back, the two were engaged in looking at something together from a shared phone screen. Hiromi wasn’t sure if they were a romantic item or not, but if they weren’t, they sure were a close set of friends.

Two desks over, usually behind the now-absent Emily sat Zeo, a dainty sort of boy from a rich family; behind him, another boy of the same rich sort but infinitely worse in personality, Olivier Bohringer (who insisted on being referred to by his full name by his “pleb classmates”) whom Hiromi was surprised to see present in the first place, the snob had a habit of being chronically late with very little regard to how it might inconvenience others. Olivier had the repugnant aura of do not associate with me, whereas Zeo was lively, friendly, if not a little pushy, as if he always had something to prove. Always trying, mostly in vain, to show off to the boy whose desk he now, too, was leaning back towards in his seat with the expression of an obedient dog – yes, right there, behind Zeo, sat the boy that Hiromi had been actively avoiding making eye contact with for the past few months. Kinomiya Takao.

Not daring to look at him for too long, she stole a deliberate glance at Takao as if in passing. As if her gaze was simply wandering. He was sitting back in his chair, relaxed, laid-back as always, wearing a cap of red and blue and white with the lid facing back, engaged in conversation with some classmates, some guys called Brooklyn and Garland, Hiromi hardly knew them, as she hardly knew anyone to begin with; Zeo was eagerly trying to join the conversation that he hadn’t been included in, he never was yet always tried, wanted to be one of the cool boys and their cool circle.

Hiromi let the words float by. She could hear Takao talking but didn’t want to listen, pretended not to hear his vivid voice that carried over the sea of classroom clatter like it always did. She swiftly fixed her posture and decidedly set her eyes on the back of the person sitting in front of her. It was this short boy called Ivan who only ever read comic books in class, some weird nerd she knew absolutely nothing about.

She was oh-so-annoyed by the way her heart had chosen to leap in anticipation. It was stupid, the way she riled herself up for doing as much as looking at Takao for a bit. She crouched to grab a notebook from her backpack; it felt safe, hiding behind the excuse of urgently and thoroughly needing to check something in her notes.

While making sure that nobody could see her writing, she scribbled the names in the corner of the notebook page:

Kane, Zeo – maybe?

LITERALLY ALL OTHER BOYS – NO.

Ayaka – maybe? don’t know what she’s like

Salima – ok.

So the decision had been made.

CHAPTER 2 prompt: the past characters: hiromi, takao pairings: hiromi/takao

Hiromi and Takao had been childhood friends.

Their houses had been right across from each other on a long, long street in the eastern district of Bey Town. To young Hiromi, this street had been her entire world. The old, wooden house like a jewelry box across the street had been so fascinating to her child’s mind, the large Kinomiya residence with its traditional dojo and yard full of unusual trees. She’d started visiting the family regularly and befriended their younger son, a boy of her own age, Takao. Everything had been so effortless back then, and they’d become friends with the ease and sincerity that only children possessed.

They had built a beautiful tree house with help from Takao’s older brother and held secret meetings; they’d gone to the corner shop of that long, long street to buy candy with the first pocket money of their lives; Takao dug out bugs with a stick from the ground and proudly presented them to her. Innumerable wonderful childhood memories had stuck close to Hiromi’s heart all through her life.

They had only been children. Silly and unassuming, copying what they saw adults do, turning it into just another game. After visiting some family to attend her aunt’s wedding, Hiromi had wanted to play it out. Let’s get married! Just like that. And Kinomiya Yoshie, Takao’s beautiful mother who always wore flowers in her hair, had sewn her a little white dress because she’d asked for one.

Hiromi’s understanding of “getting married” had been to hold Takao’s hand a lot. Parroting cheesy lines about how they would be together forever and taking oaths that were comically solemn for children of their age. She had told him he needed to get her a ring because a boy was supposed to get one for the girl he married, so he’d made one of some twigs he'd picked from the ground. It had been big enough for two of her fingers to fit through. She hadn’t minded, because it had been a gift from him; she’d been so grateful that she’d given him the smallest of kisses on the cheek, just a peck.

Then she proceeded to never forget about that peck. Not for one minute of her life.

Eventually, the Tachibana family had moved to a different house, to a plain flat in a plain apartment building where the only view was the wall of an equally plain neighboring building and a parking lot. She’d been as heartbroken as a child could be – for about three weeks. Then she’d started attending elementary school right next door.

She’d sworn to visit him at least once a week, but it was quickly forgotten. In her new school, she’d begun to notice that girls and boys did not play together – that it was, in fact, embarrassing to play with boys because they were stupid and messy and stinky. The next time the Tachibanas and Kinomiyas held a get-together, Hiromi had hid behind her mother and avoided Takao’s attention all day. The whole pretend marriage thing had started feeling thoroughly humiliating and she didn’t want it addressed ever again.

And she didn’t want to know if Takao still remembered that peck on his cheek now, in high school where they had been put in the same class to her absolute mortification. He had tried to talk to her in the first couple of days of the semester. She’d greeted him politely, then proceeded to pretend she didn’t know him. She prayed to gods that he hadn’t told anyone else in their class about their shared past – but he probably hadn’t, as it didn’t seem like the kind of thing guys would talk about.

Not that she really knew what guys were talking about. After all, she hardly spoke to anyone.

[quietwingsinthesky]

hope it's ok to pop in here about this but re your posts on destiel vs wincest. I love destiel but I made an entirely separate blog (this one) to post about wincest bc people are. less than forgiving about it on that side of the fandom. and like being personally against it is whatever, you do you, but like the amount of toxicity just got to be too much for me and I wanted a separate space to be "weird" about my interests ya know. also just wanna say I've found so far that the wincest community is so lovely <3

(also when will people open their hearts to wincestiel....)

yeah. i don’t actually dislike destiel much at all on its face. it’s just that the community surrounding it, the way it gets talked about, the narrow way you’re allowed to enjoy it…

none of that is enjoyable to me. for the brief period of time i engaged in destiel stuff after nov 5th, i felt like i was posting from inside a panopticon where if i so much as mentioned anything slightly outside the realm of acceptability, i’d be hunted like a dog for it. (not an unreasonable assumption on my part, because i was in the community, i saw people get harassed until deactivation for the incredibly minor “crime” of say. having a kudos on a problematic fic on AO3.) had fun for a month, learned how to perform that enjoyment to still be welcome in the community, got progressively more and more stressed because i didn’t feel safe talking about anything else i enjoyed about supernatural, and now that i’m out of there and can post freak shit freely, i’m a lot happier.

(i was joking earlier about how i’ve only been insulted on here by destiel fans, but it is like. you know, between the community that was so proud of itself for being about a revolutionary gay ship and the community of people getting freaky with the blowjob brothers, i’ve only been called a slur by someone from one of those groups. hell if i know whether there’s scientific basis for a correlation of how morally righteous someone thinks their ship is and how comfortable they feel sliding into someone’s DMs to say insane shit, but anecdotally? ain’t the brotherfuckers who have told me to kms.)

putting all that seriousness aside lmao, i’m glad you’re having a good time being free to do some wincest on the side. it really is a hell of a lot of fun, and also there’s so much to get into, you know? i mean, wincest is a foundational modern ship. it was big enough in the early 2000s to shape the landscape. there’s an abundance of fic and fanart and meta that’s really just got us spoiled.

also so real so true. the world would be a happier place if people let wincestiel in. we could achieve balance in the force. two houses both alike in dignity…. they should make out sloppy. what can i say, im a threesome shipper where i see it, and castiel might be the only character in the whole show who could be in the eye of hurricane winchester and survive there.

[mango-jpeg]

st elmo's fire and drop the knife notes

(i wasn't sure at first if i would make these posts again this year (like.. get a new bit bro) but ultimately i do think they're helpful for me so i'll stick w it for now)

i don’t remember much about persona 3 from playing it 15 years ago. basically all i remember is 1) being obsessed with akihiko 2) sobbing like a baby when i finished it @ 2 am 3) the crackly, fuzzy quality of my old tube tv

anyway i also don't remember writing much of st elmo's fire bc i was so inside it the whole time. i did think more about structure for both fics, i think that's something i'm going to focus on more this year

sidenote: i read chuck palahniuk's consider this in jan which was a great read on its own and also gave me lots to think about re: writing, and influenced me/my thinking for both of these fics

additional sidenote: coming to terms w the fact that the style of writing i enjoy most + would like to imitate works best in first person but i do not want to write or read first person fanfiction

for the first time i wrote drafts/outlines of almost every scene in my notes app then wrote them out fully in docs, which it turns out is a good way to do things

past tense? again?? who am i.

st elmo’s fire wrote from feb 6-7? to feb 25

this is maybe the most for me and only me thing i’ve written. i’ve wanted to write an awkward morning after pill scene for so long

looked up their personas bc i was curious about their mythology and obviously seized on the st elmo’s fire thing

(i thought it'd be cool to include a bit of magic in a fic that otherwise ignores all the canon magic)

this fic was my way of reaching back thru time to my horrible teenage self + saying you’re gonna be ok kid

reading:

I Have Some Questions for You, Rebecca Makkai

Me Talk Pretty One Day, David Sedaris

Heartburn, Nora Ephron

listening: st elmo’s fire (approx 40 times a day), hold it in

fav early bit i wrote: the whole paragraph about shinji’s boobs a fav late addition:

Inside the air was dry and charged; Akihiko was sure if he touched Shinji he’d spark. He felt the kind of calm certainty he usually felt only before matches, when he knew the result would be in his favour.

drop the knife wrote from feb 21 to mar 10

i have sequel disease. once i've written the long 'figuring out the characters' fic i neeeed to write another one. i think it's getting worse actually, i think i might have trilogy disease (write one long standalone and immediately want to write 2 related works)

the kind of cooking i do is soup. if i had things my way this is the only food we'd eat. this made writing the recipes a huge pain in the ass bc i do not think shinji is a 'throw everything into a pot and let it figure itself out' kind of cook

took the key lime pie recipe straight out of the last chapter of heartburn. idk if this is really the ‘right’ dessert but it’s the kind of food i’d actually make and i wanted to include one heartburn recipe

i thought writing aki instead of akihiko for the whole fic would be annoying and then switching between the two became a way of reflecting shinji's attempt at putting distance between them ie. thinks 'aki' in the abstract, and when his guard is low. idk how much that comes thru in reading but i made the attempt

reading:

Heartburn, Nora Ephron (i reread chapters for 3 weeks. i loved everything about this book. i’m codependent on it now.)

Wallflower at the Orgy, Nora Ephron

Tokyo Ueno Station, Yu Miri

Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut

listening: sore, knife, i got heaven

fav early bit:

Aki looked at him. He was within arm’s reach and his face was soft in a way it rarely was, his eyes large in the dark. Shinjiro wanted him in ways he’d given up on long ago, wanted him bloody and beneath him, wanted him laughing and leaning in to close the distance.

late addition:

Aki was like one of those dogs bred to rip prey out of their burrows or drag sleds across the tundra; being forced to stay inside was torturous, he needed something he could sink his teeth into.

took me ages to come up with a title, i didn’t even have a working one. found the poem oxygen when i went searching and i liked the phrase drop the knife bc knives are used in cooking (lol) + implies being disarmed + the poem has the sort of half of my soul vibe these guys have goin on

[fettuccinewrites]

I AM HERE to give a fic review nobody asked for but i have no one else to talk about it

I have finished CWM couple hours ago and i've been obsessing over it ever since. Firstly would like to point out that cwm was already in my reading list and when i decided to start reading it after sending you that first ask i kept asking myself "why didn't i read it sooner?" cause i do have a severe case of love square brainrot and i have an unresolved passion with ice skating so why haven't i read that indeed.

Then I got the scene in which Adrien's ed is revealed and it was a big OH THAT'S WHY moment for me. I have been recovering from an ed myself for years and i try to avoid the topic because i dont think i'm there yet yk? ANYWAYS. That did make my reading take a little longer than planned, out of caution really, but nothing i couldn't handle (my therapist will be very proud). On that note, I would like to apologize for needing to skip some of the more in-depth ed related parts, but to also congratulate you on the way you handled the subject. I don't usually feel safe reading these type of stories, but cwm was an exception due to your writing and story telling skills.

MOVING ON cause i feel cringey talking about my ed but you really deserve the praise for this

It really is amazing how well you are able to sell rivals to lovers narrative. dymdc and cwm both had me invested in their rivalry. It didn't feel forced, the progression of the relationship had incredible pacing and the reasons behind were believable. Like, writing this trope is so hard because it's easy to fall in traps of the narrative – not making the rivalry strong enough or making it too strong and having to bullshit a reason to end it – but you do it SO WELL. LIKE. i actually don't have words, I keysmashed three times over this so yeah i guess that's what i have to say.

Something I would also like to point out: the choice of performances. bruh. You matched the characters vibes to the choreographies so well. Like I know nothing about the fem skater from the 2010 phantom of the opera but I can see Lila so clearly in her expressions that makes me want to punch her in the face. The way the snake dance has Kagami's seriousness and precision and Luka's edge and style. *chefs kiss*

Now on the note of Moulin Rouge for Adrienette, i feel like keysmashing is not enough i need to bark. The way the story of the performance is a parallel to their relationship AND andrien's condition. Part of me thought he was going to die. I lost cound how many times I cried while reading this and I wish I could have recorded the way i GASPED when they came in twelfth. Had me shaking and tearing up ngl.

The one thing i did not understand tho was why Marinette kept that Gabriel remade their costumes a secret. Like I get Adrien making his piece with the relationship with his bio father, and deciding not to pursue one with him anymore, but Marinette not telling him felt a little shady for me. Maybe I missed something, but I don't think that shutting that door was up to her. I like the ending for Gabriel and Adrien, but idk maybe i just don't like that Marinette kept it a secret from him.

Alright I think I've said enough for one ask holy shit look at the size of this so i'm gonna stop it here. I think I said everything I wanted to say, but if I remember anything else – and I'm still welcome in here –i'll come back to dump more unrequited opinions.

Thank you so much for sharing your amazing work with us 🧡

omg! thank you!! one thing about me is i LIVE for long comments, particularly about cwm (my forever favorite story) so you are always welcome

i figured the ed parts would be difficult for some people to read, so they are 100% skippable & i’m glad you were able to take advantage of that and still enjoy the story ❤️

i love that you actually went and looked up the performances bc i just feel like it enhances the reading experience so much??? moulin rouge felt like the ONLY choice for them, i am soooo glad the parallels were noticed bc it was very much my intention :)))))

re: costumes… really just needed to wrap up that plot line and didn’t know how else to do it haha. I’d spent far too long on it already, and thought of it as like a parting gift kinda thing? A was done with G so (in my head) she didn’t see a reason to tell him, i guess. 🤷🏻‍♀️

anywayyyyy always happy to talk cwm! or writing! or dymdc! or anything else <3333

[gayhotpriests]

hello hi bursting into your office (ask box) with comically large binders that have papers falling out (so many questions about spanish)

first off, thank you for the post, and the collection of people in the post willing to help out! super duper appreciate it. I can tell when Spanish sounds odd or forced in a fic, but I don't know enough to fix it so- midnightsbuck, you're my only hope.

So, first, could Eddie call Tia Pepa, just Tia? It's a thing in my language to have custom labels for each family member, that are meant to be more affectionate than just, like, Aunt Cassie, so I was wondering if it would carry over okay into just Tia.

Also, I have her calling Eddie, "Editto" and "Mijo", which, I know the second one is technically, my son, but it feels more, like, my kid or kiddo, vibes? idk you tell me if im off here.

3. “You said we were going to the nursery! I came in work clothes!” Eddie protested, but Tia was having none of it. “Sí, yo dije, pero first, brunch! Look how nice Buck is dressed up, que linda!” - This section, I tried blending a bit more Spanish into English, which is something my mom does often with Urdu, so the speech patterns felt right for the language blend.

4. Would Tia Pepa call Buck "Evanito"? I've seen a lot of that, and I can't think of a way to turn 'Buck' into a nickname. Conversely, would it be approriate for Buck to call her Tia Pepa, or is there a more respectful alternative?

5. “Aw, no, mirame, Tia, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” - Does this work for "look at me" from Eddie?

okay that was so much many apologies - thank you for offering your knowledge!

Hi!!! thank you for coming in, have a seat! it's my pleasure actually, so lets see what we got here💓

1. yes, it is fine for him to just call her tía instead of just saying tía pepa all the time. i personally feel like he wouldn't just call her "pepa" because it's not common to call your older relatives by their first names, you say their "title" first, idk if im making sense. i have met people who do that, but it's not common bc it's seen as disrespectful.

2. and for her to call him eddito- absolutelly. i feel weird when my aunts call my by my outside world nickname hahaha i feel like pepa might call him eddie too (or even have her own nickname for him), though abuela would stick more to eddito. you're right about mijo though, it's not exclusive to parents and their children, aunts and other relatives do also say it.

3. about this little excerpt:

“You said we were going to the nursery! I came in work clothes!” Eddie protested, but Tia was having none of it. “Sí, yo dije, pero first, brunch! Look how nice Buck is dressed up, que linda!”

there's a couple of things! don't forget the possesive, add the his before tía, because tía isn't a name but a title(?) i don't know how to explain it hahah it's like saying "but aunt was having none of it", it doesn't work in english! if you're replacing the noun you have to keep the same grammar rules. in spanish it would be the same too.

the "i said" part, i would translate as "dije eso" (i said that), in spanish we tend to erase the first person pronouns (and pronouns in general when they're kind of redundant bc the conjugation already implies first person), but to only say "dije" doesn't work. and finally, remember words in spanish are gendered, so adjectives end in A or O if you're describing a woman or a man (YES is a big problem for non binary speak). and lindo translates to pretty or cute, so if you're looking for a word that means "handsome" that's guapo. if you're angling for pretty, lindo works just fine! (pero first is a thing in spanglish as far as i know! good on that).

to sum it all up, it would read better like this:

“You said we were going to the nursery! I came in work clothes!” Eddie protested, but his Tía was having none of it. 

“Sí, dije eso, pero first, brunch! Look how nice Buck is dressed up, que lindo!”

4. i have personal beef with Evanito tbh KSDJKSLSJ i'm more of an "Evancito" myself. you add ito/ita to make the diminutive, but when a word ends in a consonant, you add cito/cita. so it makes more sense to me and feels more natural that they'd say evancito. buck is a nickname on itself so i don't think they would change it.

5. finally! on this part:

“Aw, no, mírame, Tia, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

one thing you have to know about spanish is that we have like three different ways to say you, the informal, formal and a third form used only in spain hahhaha so the informal tú is used for friends, siblings etc anyone on your same or lower levels of hierarchy(? but you would use the formal usted for people in higher hierarchies, like your boss, teacher, or older relatives. this can also change with trust levels! i say tú to my mom but usted to my aunts, although in some countries they are a lot more traditional and also use the formal version with parents (eddie would say usted to his dad, for example).

so, in this case "mírame" is "look at me" but it's informal, when speaking to his aunt in spanish he'd probably say "míreme" which is the formal conjugation. so it would look like this:

“Aw, no, míreme, Tía, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

i hope this all made sense!! i tried not to go too hard on explaining grammar rules but i tend to overexplain all the time ;-; hope this helps and thanks for coming into my office! you're welcome any time<3

[gontagokuhara]

Omg I just noticed that you responded to my ask earlier thank you so much!! 😭😭😭 also im like way overdue for commenting on ao3 so it's all good 😭 ANYWHO I was just thinking about one of the chapter rewrites and wanted to ask about it! When one of the soldiers asks Kaede about her name, is there a reason why it was changed from Maizono to Akamatsu? 🤔 also I guess I'll ask why Nagito doesn't say shit anymore for shits and giggles since I commented about it before😭😭😭😭

hi hi!! first off omg there is never any pressure to review, theyre like the cherry on top but Never something that should be an obligation <3

also apologies for formatting as i answer your questions LOL i am on mobile on a lil roadtrip i will TRY my best to make this not obscene to have show up on the tl so. pointy objects discussions beneath the cut! (hopefully) (please tumblr mobile)

side note but i really like how its not *just* me that’s caught all the QoL changes i made a while back! and they bring up good questions which im happy to answer, even if some of them are less interesting than they appear!

like the kaede question! initially, i had her introduce herself as ‘maizono’ but as i was going back and editing a few months back, in the midst of rereading i felt her identifying herself as ‘akamatsu’ made more sense for a few reasons. one: her legal name is kaede akamatsu, and she has just never identified with the maizono name and what it represents to her personally.

and two (and more importantly): in this instance she’s introducing herself to novoselic soldiers, working at the direction of sonia nevermind — a goddess, automatically giving them better knowledge of the gods than the average human. at that point the situation amongst the gods was very hectic; makoto and byakuya’s child has been stolen by monsters and is presumed dead. the entire underworld has been cut off. junko was agitating amongst the gods and jeering at her confessed role in rantarou’s death because of her claim shuuichi has her spear. war is threatening to break out at the hands of no less than 3 of the Big Five gods, not to mention all the ones getting involved in order to keep their kids safe. and then seven more kids go missing, out from under the noses of nagito and hajime, with absolutely nobody knowing what the fuck is going on. sonia, given her conviction especially for keeping kiibo safe after her previous child was killed at camp, was genuinely under the impression kiibo would never go willingly with the holder of the spear, so her assumption was that the other demigods forced their hand. all of THAT to say: kaede introducing herself with the last name of a goddess would have put suspicion on the group much sooner than said suspicion actually appeared.

so not only did i feel it was more in-line with kaede’s character to make the change, but i also thought it made more sense.

and then for the other query, about me taking away nagito’s rights to say bad words 💔 ive been replaying sdr2 and, more relevant, been spending a TON of free time writing nagito (+ the other sdr2 characters) for my own personal project, and i felt my updates to his (and gundham’s, for that matter) dialogue felt more in line with his in-game characterization. i also think nagito deserves to let his freak flag fly a little, but he really doesn’t curse much in canon (a “what the hell” or a “damn it” here or there, as i recall) and since i love nagito so much i made some tweaks to his dialogue to hopefully make him feel more…him. same with gundham in chapter 4!

this was very fun to answer, thank you! 🫶 as always if any further questions arise that i’m able to answer, i’m happy to! im kind of rattling around my own cage with this fic bc none of my friends are into danganronpa LOLLL so getting to explain my thought process is fun!

[kooktrash]

i feel like last anon was being obtuse

at least for the USA there are two sets of 18/19yro

ones in highschool

ones in college/are living adult lives

reasons to believe that yandere highschool anon MAY BE a minor

anon is a 15-17 yro minor who wants to be aged up in fic to a 18yro/senior and wants Jungkook the same age

anon is a 15-17 yro minor and wants Jungkook to be older but not out of highschool hence the 18yro ages

anon is a 18 yro who wants Jungkook the same age and is still in highschool

Or on the off chance, this is an adult tryna re-live highschool through fic (which im putting my hands up and backing away cuz i dont know what to make of that)

the reason you have 18/19yro friends is because THEY ARE MOST LIKELY OUT OF HIGHSCHOOL AND ARE COLLEGE/FULLTIME WORK FORCE ADULTS

thats not hard to grasp... like come on

when i graduated HS in 2021, i was 19 (my bday is late - nov 2002). i felt like an adult when i entered college. i was not talking to other 18/19yros who were still in highschool cuz thats weird to me, even if we were the same age (excluding siblings/cousins). i dont know how other peoples highschools function but we rarely mingled with lower grades unless in extracurriculars but even then once you graduate you only really keep in contact with the friends you graduated with so...

but anyway, i was not reading online fics/published books set during highschool cuz that part of my life has passed.

and i even waited till i was in college to REALLY start reading smut fics. like i dabbled as a hardheaded minor but stopped cuz i realized that sex is not the end all be all of life. its only a minor aspect so i went back to being in a child's place (cartoons, barbies, and justice store). luckly i didn't need an adult to block and yell at me to leave them alone.

i say all this to say that highschool 18/19 is very much different than college/adult living 18/19, so people can very well tell highschool students to be off their page but still have 18/19 ADULT friends who go to COLLEGE or work a 9-5 and pay they bills.

but also highschool is boring and such a confining setting. you can't do much with it. even most books with highschoolers take majority of place outside school and dont even touch on highschool life.

the only one i can think of 13RW and we all know that could have taken place in college or military base/barracks or a futurist space academy on a actual space ship. hell that's probably why the book/show was so crazy cuz it had to be spiced up from regular ass highschool life.

im sorry this is long but yall not bout to make my good sis look bad/weird. like think critically for a second before asking.

ok no let’s talk about this 🤔

the anon felt the need to point out that I had a friend who is 18/19 like first of all who are you talking about bc if it’s who I THINK you’re talking about. she’s about to be 20 🤧 second, me choosing not to write characters 18/19 and below shouldn’t be a problem. I’m 21 YEARS OLD why would I want to write a character a couple years younger than me? even the idea of writing an 18 year old jk in high school with explico content is weird to me.

also, I graduated high school six months after my 17TH BIRTHDAY [oct. 29, 2001] and that was four years ago cause I graduated in 2019 , why would I want to write high school ANYTHING?

when I started college I was 17 and obviously had older friends too bc like you said that’s how adult life works. I have a coworker I’ve known since she was 17 and I didn’t even start hanging out with her till after she turned 18 bc what would I have in common with a high schooler?

anyways, the anons are running out of things to complain about so this time it was about me not wanting to write younger characters, just say you’re bitter or a minor and move on [and I’m not referring to the person who commented on my friend being 18/19 bc idk what their true intention was]