#been a rough transition today

[lesbianfakir]

Sorry for being so rambly today (and last night) I have thoughts so onto the blog they go

I feel like part of the joy of art is in community, like you create something and you get to talk about it and share it with the world. This year I lost touch with the friends who I would always talk about art with and I think that loss is heavily impacting my ability to create (and the enjoyment I get from it.) I miss having a new idea and getting to ramble about it excitedly. I miss texting people the sketches and the mock ups and the color palettes.

I got into art for me. I wouldn’t show anything I made to anyone for years. So I’m no stranger for creating for the target audience of myself. Still, I miss that sense of community. I love this blog and I absolutely adore the lovely comments you all leave on my art but sometimes it feels so one-sided on here. I post a piece, I receive a lovely tag back and that’s it. End of story. I spend hours and hours working on something and it kind of disappears into the void in a day or so.

Trying to put it into words, but I think I wish I could create art that starts a conversation. That inspires people to create their own things in response, or even just talk with me about process. I think the perfectionism has gotten out of hand lately because I feel like I’m missing something—which I attribute to the quality of the piece—but really what I’m missing is buddies to chat about art with. There is no level of being “good enough” that will serve as a substitute for a real community.

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

First, let me apologise for making people worry. I appreciate all those who reached out and I'm sorry that I couldn't get back to you all.

I have been through a very rough spiral. It was building for months, and I am still not fully okay.

For those who want context, it's under the cut.

I bought a house in May. It's expensive. I wasn't ready financially or in many ways for that step, but my partner convinced me. I told him as much but I was not heard. Alas, I have a mortgage, full time work, astudent loan, and an ongoing school program to contend with. It hasn't been easy and it caught up to me.

At the same time, a person who traumatised me and I have no way of fully extricating from my life, has moved closer. To keep the peace, I have to associate with him to a degree and he pretends that nothing ever happened. To him, it was nothing.

In June, I moved. It was hard and fast paced. I did most of the paperwork etc for the whole process and obv helped with the physical transition as well. I was responsible for deadlines and checklists for not just myself but my partner.

I was plugging holes in a sinking boat.

At the same time, I had obligations to my family. Every weekend if I wasn't dealing with the house and all that goes into it, I was running around to babysit or see family or whathave you.

In July, I pinched a nerve behind my tailbone. I missed a week of work bc my injury but it took longer for my to recover. I am still feeling it today. It was more than physical, but emotional.

I also got three periods that month. Hormonal can't begin to explain how fucked up I've been.

On top of all that, there are underlying issues associated with other trauma and discontent. I'm realising that I have been loyal and tolerant to the point of my own detriment.

I don't want to hurt people how I've been hurt, so I don't speak up. When people tell me something about myself, I let all the doubts planted in my mind from years of abuse convince me that they're right. I can admit my faults but often times I will think that proof of one flaw means everything about me is rotten.

People forget about me or just don't care. Both or either. They don't put the same effort in that I do. I find it hard to connect because years of disregard and neglect have told me that the other side just won't care.

But I'm not just hurt, I'm angry. I'm seeking therapy and trying to figure this out.

It all boiled over after my last post. Nothing I do is enough. For anyone. Not even when it's a hobby. I was frustrated bc the place I use for escape just made me feel like less than.

Obviously, I don't mean everyone or even the majority. I appreciate the discourse and fun and everything here! There are so many awesome people to interact with and I have missed you all, however, my headspace was bad. Very bad. I had thoughts I haven't dealt with in years.

I put my nose down and just went to work. I didn't wanna talk to anyone. I didn't wanna be in the world.

I did some reading, eventually some non-fandom writing, and sometimes, I just stayed alive.

I don't know if I'm really okay but I'm trying.

To those who have been so patient and supportive, you deserve everything. To those who are silent supporters, you do too. And even to those people who send me the most vile hate, you deserve to lift yourself out of the dark space you're stuck in. Hopefully, I can, too.

[meazalykov]

the critic

lena oberdorf x commentator!reader

summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you

before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.

you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 

you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 

one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 

the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 

it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 

lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.

so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 

and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 

you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.

now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 

it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 

alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 

you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 

"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 

"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."

"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 

“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 

you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 

she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 

you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 

but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.

"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 

"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"

you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 

"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."

your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 

but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 

sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 

social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.

fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 

and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 

you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.

across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 

her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.

that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 

"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."

lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"

laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 

it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 

"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 

but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.

"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 

"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."

lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 

but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.

but now? maybe things have changed.

"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 

"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"

lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."

later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 

the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 

you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.

"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."

you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.

how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.

however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?

"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.

"what’s up?"

"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."

you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"

you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.

"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 

you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.

"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."

you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.

the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 

you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Every Inch of You

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: reader is fighting demons (insecurities), very specific descrpitions of body image related insecurities- like the reader is literally picking herself apart in a mirror, hella praise, body worship, fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, creampie, cockwarming, pseudo voyeurism/exhibitionism (he fucks her in front of a mirror idk) I think that's everything

Genre: starts off pretty angsty, we transition to smut and end with fluff!

Summary: Insecurities can be quite rough on you but your boyfriend has no intentions of letting you go through it alone

***

You frown at your reflection as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Today has been a rough day. Nothing in particular happened. You went to work, you ran some errands, you did normal daily things, but for some reason you've been in such a weird mood and now you're stuck in a vortex, picking apart yourself apart in the fucking mirror. You really ought to go to the gym more often, or- stop snacking at night, have your pores always been so noticeable? Since when do you have so many stretch marks? You can't see your toes over your stomach- god that's embarrassing. You let out a long sigh as you bite back the tears stinging the back of your eyes. You hate this. It doesn't usually get this bad and the worst part is you know it's not real, you know you're not some hideous monster but it doesn't stop that nasty voice in your head from warping your perception some days and when that happens nothing you say to yourself changes it. But man does it suck, because most of the time you have all the confidence in the world, you've worked very hard on it. Days like this make it feel like you're still some lost little kid desperate to find your place in the world with no sense of self. You should just walk away. If you can't see yourself, you can't pick your appearance apart. But your feet feel glued to the floor, as if they can't remember how to move, as if it's the most impossible task you've ever been given.

"Alright that's enough. You'll lose your mind standing here." You tell yourself, shaking your head in hopes of getting out of this dreary mood. You finally step away from the mirror and head to your closet to put on some clothes post shower. You throw on a hoodie and some shorts and leave your room.

"Babe?!" You hear as you walk down the hall. Sounds like your boyfriend's back.

"Hey love, welcome home." You meet him by the door and he kisses you on the cheek.

"Hope you haven't made dinner yet beautiful because I brought take out." Luke tells you holding up the bag with an excited grin.

"Take out's good. You wanna shower first or dive straight in?" You ask him.

"Would you mind terribly if I showered first?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." You take the food from him and nod your head towards the bathroom.

"I'll be quick!" He kisses you once more and jogs down the hall. You set the food on the living room table and watch TV while waiting for Luke. You hope you're able to keep it together for the few hours you'll be spending with Luke before bed. Considering its a weekday, you don't have to keep the mask up for that long. True to his word, Luke is quick to return, maybe 15 minutes pass by the time he plops down next to you on the couch. "Alright! Let's eat!" He announces, opening the takeout bag. He hands you your food before digging into his own.

"How was work today?" You ask him.

"Fine, tedious. Was mostly doing paperwork today." He shrugs. "How was your day cupcake?"

"Work was work and then I ran some errands. No fun stories here unfortunately. How's everyone?"

"Well, Spencer was giving a guest lecture today so he wasn't around since we didn't have an actual case. Garcia was telling me about some woman that seems to have his attention at the uni though."

"Is Pen keeping tabs on Spencer at the college? He'll literally hate that when he finds out." You frown.

"That's what I told her but you know how she can be. Especially with how sometimes things- go wrong when we meet new people."

"I mean if she's just a coworker, Penelope's getting ahead of herself don't you think? He probably hasn't even made a move on her." You say.

"He hasn't. You're right but it's not like she can be stopped." Luke chuckles.

"Yeah I guess so." You hum.

"Alright, what's wrong, princess?" Luke frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"You've barely touched your food. Did you think I wasn't gonna notice you've only been picking at it? Do you not like it? Do you want to eat something else?"

"No it, it's fine, I just- I'm honestly not all that hungry I guess." You sigh.

"What do you mean you're not all that hungry? What've you eaten today?"

"A bagel for breakfast and a salad for lunch." You shrug. Luke checks the clock in your living room.

"Lunch was 8 hours ago, all you had was a bowl of rabbit food and you expect me to accept that you don't want to eat your favorite food? Come on, spill it baby what's going on with you?"

"Nothing's going on. I dunno I just- feel weird." You mutter, avoiding his gaze. Dating a profiler is so irritating sometimes, can't he just ignore your body language for once?

"Weird how?"

"We don't, have to do this. It's not a big deal babe." You mumble.

"You're not eating y/n it is absolutely a big deal."

"Luke-" you sigh.

"Don't 'Luke' me, what's going on?" He frowns.

"I'd really rather not discuss anything there's no need, seriously."

"Baby, don't shut me out. You can't shut me out. We're in this together, always. You've gotta tell me what's going on in your head." He caresses your cheek gently. You sigh, unable to justify holding out on him when he speaks so softly, with such care.

"I've just been having a bad mental day. Nothing's happened, but I, just feel uncomfortable in my body, and it's hard to deal with let alone talk about." You say, tears burning behind your eyes again.

"Baby," he says, concern contorting his features.

"It's fine, I'll get over it. Today's just been a rough one. It happens. Sometimes my insecurities flare up out of nowhere but that's life, I don't want you to worry." You shake your head.

"Do you know me at all princess?"

"What?"

"My baby, my darling, the love of my life, my reason for being, is stuck in her own head hating her body, the body I live to worship, the body I can't get enough of and you want me to simply 'not worry about it'? That ain't happening." He stands up.

"Luke." You grumble as he grabs your hands.

"No no no no, no complaining, up you go." He pulls you off the couch and lifts you into his arms.

"Ah! Luke what are you doing?" You ask, throwing your hands around his neck as he princess carries you down the hall.

"Well if that nasty little voice in your head wants to lie to you, I'll simply have to remind you myself of all the reasons ever inch of you is perfect." He says matter-of-factly.

"I do not like the sound of that." You tell him.

"And I don't like the sound of you feeling uncomfortable with yourself." Luke shrugs.

"Well that's not-" You stop yourself with a sigh, not even sure what your comeback would be. In your bedroom, Luke carefully lowers you to the ground in front of the mirror with your back facing him.

"I want to help you to see yourself the way that I do." He says softly. He kisses your neck lightly and gently lifts your gaze to meet his in the reflection. "Ask me how I see you." His fingers brush against your thighs as he speaks.

"How do you see me?" You whisper hesitantly. You're not sure you even want to know, but his lips against your throat and his hands on your skin are rather persuasive.

"You, mi amor, are the sun at the center of my universe, if ever I was asked to describe perfection I would simply describe you." Luke slides his hands up under your hoodie caressing your skin.

"Luke." Your brow furrows. This can't possibly be sexy for him, he's only touching your stomach to comfort you, he'd probably prefer it if-

"Relax baby." Luke whispers. You didn't even realize you'd sucked your stomach in against his touch unconsciously, as if you could hide from him your size. You slowly untense your muscles, cringing at the way you fill his large hands. "I'm going to take this off of you, is that alright baby?" He asks.

"Well," can you really handle looking at yourself again?

"You can say no if you want princess, but I need you to stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere." You say.

"Physically maybe, but I can see your mind wandering off." He kisses your temple. "Don't go."

"You can take it off." You whisper. Luke tugs the hoodie over your head not a moment later, tossing it somewhere in the room, out of sight. He lets out a sigh as his eyes trail over your body through the reflection. You can still feel the heat of his gaze in the mirror and weirdly enough it feels undeserved. He looks at you like that all the time but, tonight you just can't understand what would make him look at you with such want.

"God, you're gorgeous." He sighs placing his hands on your hips again. Luke places kisses on your shoulder. "Your skin is so soft, I can never get enough of touching you, kissing you, holding you." He says. He slides his hands up your sides to cup your breasts. "So perfect, I love the weight of your tits in my hands." His thumbs stroke over your nipples and the light stimulation makes your breath catch in your throat. He twists and tugs at your nipples, enjoying the little whimpers you let out. "You make the prettiest noises when I touch you baby."

"Luke-" you whine, your head lolling against his shoulder.

"Uh uh, head up princess, you've gotta watch. Watch me touch you, worship you, and watch how your body reacts to me, see for yourself how captivating you look." Luke gently shrugs his shoulder to push your head forward. You force your eyes to focus back on your reflections in the mirror, the sight of his hands kneading your breasts with rough fingers toying with your nipples to create hardened peaks only serves to make you squirm more against him. He keeps at it until your breathing is heavy, then one hand slides down, pausing to rub your tummy, "You may not believe me but this, I love this. Growing up it meant you were eating well, taken care of. And I like to think I take good care of you. I want it to show." He says kissing your neck. "Plus it's excellent for cuddles." He winks with a smile that makes you giggle. "I like that sound even more than your little whimpers, but I'm about to get a lot more of those." Luke's hand continues down, pushing your shorts down enough for you to kick them off. His hand caresses your thigh.

"You're teasing." You pout.

"You look cute when you pout." He chuckles. "But I'll be nice." His voice drops as he slips two fingers between your folds. You arch you back against his touch as his digits toy with your cunt. Luke knows your body maybe better than you do and his hand makes quick work of bringing you to the edge. Your head tips back again, instinctively and his movements slow when he catches it. The sudden change drags your gaze to his in the mirror, a silent question in your eyes when you whine. "If you want to cum pretty girl you have to watch yourself do it."

"But-"

"No buts, keep your eyes open and on the mirror." He says stroking you faster now that your attention is back on your reflection. Again when you feel your orgasm creeping up your spine your head drifts back and again Luke slows his hand almost to a stop.

"No!" You cry out as your release slips away.

"I already told you princess, your eyes have to stay on your reflection." He says waiting for your breathing to calm slightly before his fingers work you again. This time, you manage to keep your head forward, but your eyes still slide closed from the pleasure. Unfortunately for you your boyfriend is very observant and closed eyes still break the rule, so his fingers slow again.

"Fffffffffffffuck me." You grit out, frustrated from his edging game.

"I'll keep doing this until you get it right mi amor. Keep your eyes open." He says beginning again. This time, you steel yourself. You don't think you can handle another denial. The signs of release return quickly with his hands on you and though your lids desperately want to close you keep them open even as they threaten roll back in bliss as you finally cum with a breathy moan. "That's it, so fucking stunning." Luke says as he strokes you through the aftershocks. Your legs are still shaking and your chest is still heaving when Luke lifts you again. "I'm not finished with you yet, but this next bit will be easier in the bathroom. So you have something to hold onto." He says carrying you into the bathroom. He sets you down facing the large mirror over the sink. "I'd do this in the bedroom but you won't be able to see yourself if I fuck you right up against the mirror." Luke says in your ear and the words send a shiver down your spine. "Place your hands on the mirror sweetheart. Let me show you how badly I crave every inch of you." He says with a hand stroking your ass. You lean forward enough for your warm hands to touch the cool glass. Your eyes follow Luke's in the mirror as they trail over your skin hungrily while he frees himself from his sweatpants. He wastes no time sinking into you with a groan and though he gave no warning you moan at the stretch of him filling you. The look on his face as he settles into your heat can only be described as euphoric and it's one you could never get tired of seeing on him. After a moment his eyes peel open again and catch yours in the reflection. He gives you a smirk before his hands tighten against your hips and he sets a rhythm that explains why you needed something to hold onto. His thrusts are harsh and deep and have moans spilling uncontrollably from your lips. Luke's eyes are locked on yours in the mirror as he fucks you. "God you're beautiful, perfect, you've got the- prettiest eyes that sparkle when you laugh, and look so good rolling back when I make you cum." He hums.

"Oh Luke." You moan part of that was sweet, part if it made your walls clench around his dick.

"You're perfectly soft for hugging or cuddling and it doesn't hurt that I have plenty to hold onto when I wanna fuck you stupid." Luke says and if he weren't currently doing just that you might've laughed at his words, but the moaning makes it hard. "If I could spend all my days wrapped in your arms, buried in your heat- you have no idea how quickly I'd do it." You can feel your cheeks heating up from his, mostly, sweet words, so contrasting from the way he's railing you. "God I love you so much." He groans.

"I- I love you too Luke, more than- more than you know." You pant out.

"Fuck I'm close." He grits out. One of his hands wraps around your waist and finds your clit. It doesn't take much, a few well focused circles of your sensitive bundle of nerves and you're shaking as your orgasm hits, your walls clamping down so tightly around Luke's dick it pulls his orgasm from him too. His hips stop flush against yours as hot spurts flood your inner walls. You practically slump against the bathroom counter as the waves of your release die down. You're not quite sure how he manages but Luke turns you around and lifts you in his arms again somehow without fully pulling out of you. He walks you both over to the bed and lays down with you on top of him, soft dick still buried in your heat. Luke lifts your head from his chest to get your attention.

"I love every part of you with all that I am." He says.

"Thank you. I love you too." You say softly.

"I know insecurities are no easy battle but, yours is a body the Greeks would build statues for. It pains me that you see yourself as less than idolized."

"I'll admit it's much harder to feel that way when you react like this."

"Well I'll just have to make a habit of it then." He kisses your forehead.

"I- can't say I'm opposed to that suggestion." You hum.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And where we on food? Did your appetite come back any?" He asks, hand stroking soothingly down your back.

"Yeah but- I'm too tired to move." You mumble into his chest and he laughs.

"Don't worry I won't make you get up now. I'm sure after a nap your body will convince you to get up and eat, until then let's just lay here."

"Perfect that's exactly what I planned to do." You sigh as you snuggle closer to him. Maybe your insecurities will beat your ass every once in a while, but you smile knowing Luke will be there to fight them with you and that is more than enough for you.

***

[carlsangel]

SO FUCKING ANXIOUS

carl grimes x reader

(negan arrives to alexandria and carl knows how to make you feel better.)

tags: some angst but mostly fluff

masterlist here!

sorry for the aggressive title :>

The apocalypse was never easy on you, granted it wasn’t easy on anyone but you were always the type to say you’d never make it in a world like that. And you believed that, genuinely. Until you met Carl. You felt so lucky to have someone like him to love you, he’d known you so well, especially after all you’d been through together.

After the prison and Terminus, you hated the thought of crossing any human again, anyone who wasn’t in the group.

He knew everything that was slightly stress inducing to you, he made sure to make you feel relatively safe even in the worst of situations. When you’d gotten to Alexandria, you felt so incredibly relieved. Strong walls, not having to worry about scavenging for dinner or walkers, you were ecstatic.

That was until walkers had breached the walls. Every feeling you had telling you were safe was gone completely. Everything worsened when Carl got shot, you had no idea what to do or who to go to. You’d gone to him for everything and he couldn’t be there for you this time.

You had hoped and hoped for hours he’d wake up. Eventually he did and everything was weary for a month or two. The transition back to normal after losing the sense of security in Alexandria was rough. You didn’t think you’d be able to return to normal. You saw a slight glimpse of hope as new settlements were introduced.

That also went to shit.

You knew what your people had done at the satellite station would come back to bite you all in the ass and you couldn’t help but feel so fucking anxious about it.

The night of the lineup was your worst nightmare come to life. Carl checked up on you throughout, knowing how you could get in those kinds of situations. He reassured you no matter how many times a savior told him to shut his trap. He didn’t care. Not about them. But he cared about you.

Thankfully Carl was able to help your through your nerves, and he did that successfully quite often. He was especially helpful when Negan and the Saviors had arrived to Alexandria’s gates.

One particular afternoon Negan had arrived with his men was a particularly hard day for you. You weren’t expecting them, they had come early.

Usually the saviors never interacted with you but today…was different. Carl had found a Walkman for you so that whenever you got anxious you could just listen to music and hold his hand and you’d feel okay. Once the message that the Saviors had arrived relayed back to the two of you, Carl told you to listen to music and stick by his side.

Your thoughts immediately turned to the worst. What if they did something to you, what if they took you. What if they too Carl? You wouldn’t be able to handle that. You can barely last a couple hours without him, you wouldn’t be okay if they did something to him or took him back to the sanctuary.

So you did. Carl took your hand and wandered through Alexandria with you, ensuring everyone was safe as the Saviors raided the place. You noticed something across the street. Negan was harassing a woman that had lived there since the beginning. They were practically ripping apart the inside of her house as she waited outside.

“Look, lady, with all due respect, I really don’t think this television is this goddamn important.” Negan says, mocking the woman who was sobbing at the fact her home was being destroyed, not about the stupid TV. Your grip on Carl’s hand grew tighter and you couldn’t help but retreat behind him a little. Negan laughed at the woman and looked around to see if anyone was watching and unfortunately he caught a glimpse of the two of you.

You both tried continuing down the path before he called out.

“Woahhh where you both off to in a hurry?” His tone is sardonic and you both stop in your tracks. Carl looks at you and slides the headphones off your ears to rest them at the back of your neck. “Let me handle it. It’ll be okay.” He reassures, knowing this would be harsh on you. He pulls you in to place a kiss at the top of your head which was unusual for him. He was never affectionate in public, let alone in front of Negan and the Saviors. He was trying to make you feel better.

He turns to Negan and clutches your hand before slowly making his way across the street to the woman’s house where he remained, the woman now sitting on the steps of her house unable to cry anymore.

“What do we have here? The pirate and his partner?” He giggles and you hold Carl’s arm, standing somewhat behind him, avoiding Negan’s gaze. Carl just looks at him silently, not stirring anything up with him to ensure your safety. Negan looks at the two of you, trying to figure out some way to break you. He reaches around Carl and grabs your arm, pulling you beside him rather than behind him. Carl does nothing but glare at Negan.

“This one’s a little shy, huh?” Carl tilts his head and Negan grins at this, wagging his finger in Carls face. “Watch that eye. You know what happened to your dad the last time he looked at me like that if you-” Carl cuts him off. “What do you want?” He snaps. “Hold on now, no need to get snippy at me, young man.” Negan says comedically. “I just wanna see what music is on the tapes.” He gestures to the Walkman attached to your jeans.

“It’s not yours.” Carl blurted, realizing he’d definitely get a reaction from the way he worded his statement. “Oh Carl, you see, it is mine actually. Because everything here, all the shit that’s yours, is mine. Remember? I’m sure you do.” He turns to you. “And I know you do too, you were there for that lesson if I recall correctly.” Negan remarked, rubbing the worst night of your life in your face. “God damn, were you crying like hell. I’m surprised that many tears could come out of a person like that.” He laughs, you feel tears begin welling in your eyes.

Carl notices and feels helpless for a moment, unsure of what to do. He looks to Negan and sighs. “Please. Just…don’t take it.” He says, almost a whisper. Negan looks at him and steps back from the both of you. You retreat back behind Carl and Negan smiles. “Since I’m feelin oh-so generous today, I’ll let you keep the damn Walkman. I just wanna know whatcha listenin to.” He says to you, tilting to the side since you’re practically hiding behind Carl at this point.

The tears have left your eyes, now irrelevant as you muster up the courage to talk to him without crying more. “I-Its just Fleetwood Mac.” You answer. He nods with a satisfied look on his face. You grip onto Carl’s arm a tad tighter and his hand slides into yours. “Well that’s a very good choice.” He smiles. “Now why don’t you go find your dad and send him my way. I want him to walk me out like a proper host.” He tells Carl.

Finally.

After the saviors had left that evening you and Carl returned back to the house, or rather what was left of it. They had only really left the couch and the chairs, they took yours and Carl’s bed and most of the other furniture in the house. You sat on the couch with Carl, lying on top of him as you listened to your music. He rubbed your back gently as he rested his head against your ear to hear the music as well. That was his next mission: find earbuds.

He scoots back a little and slides the headphone off your ear. “You feelin better?” He asks softly. You nod. “Yeah I’m okay. Just got a little worried I guess.” You respond as he runs his hand through your hair.

“You don’t have to be. I’m here for you. I promise.”

a/n: i hope this was okayyyy i love writing negan for some reason, he’s so funny. anyway this was funnn so thank u anon i hope you like it :D i also hope you guys like fleetwood mac or this is gonna be really awkward :o

[not-neverland06]

Alone and Forsaken

one-shot

Joel Miller x fem!reader

A/N: I got COVID and haven't had a coherent thought in five days, so if this doesn't make sense it's not my fault, it's the virus. (Thank you @benkeibear for the dividers)

Summary: You're aren't anything to Joel Miller. You're a comfort, habit, and necessity. But you've never been anything more. It gets to you and you do what you always do, you run. When you make the permanent move to Jackson you've got no choice but to face the truth of what you are to each other.

WC: 9.4K

Part two here

You glanced down at Ellie, sweat was beading on her forehead and she was shivering in her sleeping bag. You glanced towards Joel, he was staring down at his gun, he’d been cleaning it for the past ten minutes. 

“We’re right near Jack-”

“No,” his voice was rough, a command rather than an interruption. You sighed and went back to crafting some arrows for Ellie. “We’ll find some medicine tomorrow.”

You gave a noncommittal hum, you could hear him sigh from across the fire. You’d managed to clean out an old office today, you were camping out on the roof. Joel had determined the fog provided enough cover to not have to worry about others seeing the smoke. 

He placed his gun down and leaned his elbows on his knees, you could feel his stare boring into you but you refused to give in. He wasn’t the only one who could be a stubborn bastard. “Y/N-”

“You’re acting like an old fool.”

He scoffed, “I’m not that old.”

“Joel,” you finally glanced up. “Ellie needs medicine, we’re right near your brother’s we might as well see if he’s got anything.” He stared at you for a long moment, not saying anything, until his shoulders slumped and he shrugged. He went back to cleaning his gun and you could tell he had conceded. 

You’d made it to Jackson a year ago after the Firefly incident at the hospital. But it had been too much for all three of you. Years of killing, fighting to keep yourself alive, all on your own, it was too jarring to be in such a quaint little place. 

You couldn’t wake up every morning to a “Howdy, neighbor!” like nothing had changed. There were too many people and it was too forceful a transition from fighting for every last resource to suddenly having everything willingly handed to you. 

Eventually, when it became too tiring to keep fighting, you were sure you would move back to Jackson. For now, each of you enjoyed the freedom of not having to fight for anyone but yourselves. It was an occasional pit stop for supplies and a dose of normalcy. 

You’d been on the road for about six months now, it was time to cycle back onto the path towards Tommy. 

Good timing too, about two days ago Ellie had a sore throat and now she’s pretty much deadweight behind you both. “We’ll head out at dawn.” Joel stood up, nothing more to say, and took first watch. You tucked your arrows away and laid down, hoping to get some sleep before you were on the move again. 

“How much further?”

“Another few miles,” Joel glanced over his shoulder at you. “How’s she doing?”

“I’m doing fine,” Ellie interrupted. But it was hard to believe her when her voice was a barely audible croak and she was leaning against you for support. 

Joel sighed and glanced towards his right, there was a creek and a sunny patch of grass. He started towards it, dropping his pack on a rock and coming to a stop. “We’ll stop here for a break.”

“I said I’m fin-” 

She interrupted herself with a cough that was so jarring you winced. It sounded like her throat was being ripped apart. When she finally caught her breath she reluctantly followed you towards the creek next to Joel. “I’ll check out the area, we shouldn’t be out here long.”

Joel nodded, standing guard next to Ellie while she wheezed trying to catch her breath. You moved away from them, going to check the surrounding area. Just when you deemed too much time had passed and were about to turn around you could feel something cold pressing into the back of your head. 

“Don’t move.”

You slowly dropped your rifle to the forest floor, raising your hands in surrender as the person behind you pulled back the hammer of their gun. “Okay, it’s okay, we can talk about this.” The gun pulled back abruptly and then they were in front of you. 

“Y/N! Damn girl, almost killed you.” Tommy tucked his gun into his holster and pulled you into a brief hug. You sighed and picked your gun back up. 

“The hell are you doing this far out?”

“Been seeing a lot of infected, had to start patrolling out further.” Tommy peered around you, looking for something. “Joel with you?”

You nodded, leading him back to Joel. There was a brief reunion, nothing much considering they’ve been seeing each other a lot more than they used to. Tommy took Ellie on his horse back to Jackson, said it would be faster that way. 

You and Joel still had a few more miles left, walking in silence side by side. 

The silence, as always, had you contemplating your something with Joel. Because you wouldn’t say you and Joel were in a relationship. You’d both loved and lost too much in your life to ever truly be open to something like that again. 

But you granted each other a softness you didn’t offer anyone else. There was an unspoken connection between the two of you that never went acknowledged. You glanced over at him, nudging his arm with your elbow. “More excited about coffee or a shower?”

“More excited about you finally showering.”

You scoffed in faux offense and shoved him lightly. His eyes crinkled, the crow’s feet becoming more prominent as he smirked at you. “Jerk. I smell amazing,” that was a blatant lie. Neither of you smelled great. It’d been about a week since you’d had a chance to really freshen up. Still, it was always fun to mess with him a little bit. 

When you finally made it to Jackson you moved quickly through the inspection station, showing the medics your bite-free body and then headed towards Ellie. 

She was already knocked out, whatever flu medicine they’d managed to scrounge up had done its job quickly. Maria led you to a house at the far end of town, you watched as Joel entered the one across from you. 

You showered, enjoying the foreign feeling of fresh, hot, water running over your skin. You used the clothes Maria provided you, but after an hour of just wandering around the house you were starting to feel restless. 

You had sat on the couch, stared at the black screen of the TV, and gotten back up about three times. You huffed out an irritated breath and headed towards the door. You weren’t sure where you were going but the quiet was starting to feel suffocating. 

The pristine, cozy house, was overwhelming you with memories of a past best left forgotten. You opened the door-

“Why!”

“Shit,” Joel grimaced, offering you an awkward pat on the shoulder instead of an apology. You rubbed your forehead, pain radiating from where he’d hit you. “I was trying to knock, didn’t think you’d open the door.”

You sighed, glancing up at him and shrugging. “I can’t stand being in here. House is too…”

“Big,” he finished. You nodded, stepping outside and joining him on the porch. You both started walking, heading towards his house, the one that actually had chairs on the patio. Luckily the houses you were staying in this time around were farther away from everyone else. 

People walking with their families was a distant noise that was barely discernible. 

Families

The thought made you want to scoff. Families in the apocalypse, fucking ridiculous. “It’s peaceful here.”

“For them,” you glanced at Joel and he seemed to share the same thought as you. You’d changed too much, spilled too much blood to ever let yourself be fully comfortable in a place like this. 

“Do you think you could ever be happy here?” 

You glanced across the street at the large looming house you had just been in. “Not in there, it’s too big for one person.” He nodded, his fingers drumming a soundless tune against his jeans while he sat with you. 

“Went down and saw Ellie while you were cleaning up. She’s making friends.”

You looked at him in astonishment. Hard to believe she was bedridden and being pleasant. He laughed a little and shook his head. “Well, I suppose they were interrogating her more than anything.”

You smiled slightly, “That’s more like it.” 

He was looking off at the town, viewing the few distant people you could see. “She’s been asking to come back a lot more. I think she likes movie nights.” You sighed, knowing where this was going. You supposed the change was inevitable, you had just really hoped that you could push it off a little while longer. 

You just weren’t ready. 

“House is too big for me, too. Maybe it needs two people.” He was already looking at you when you turned to face him. His face didn’t betray anything but a type of tiredness that was set deep in someone’s bones. 

You could say no, go off on your own. You’d make it a little while longer but the loneliness would get to you and eventually you’d slip up. Be torn apart or turned. 

Besides, you weren’t ready to leave them, leave him. Not yet. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

One Year Later

“Morning.”

You groaned at the sound of Joel’s voice, rolling over and covering your head with a pillow. He laughed and you could feel it reverberate through your back where his chest was resting on you. 

“Come on, darling. It’s noon, you have to take care of the sheep today.” 

You weren’t exactly verbal when you’re woken up abruptly. So you just grumbled-most likely something incredibly rude-under your breath and curled up into a ball.

Joel chuckled again, his arms wrapped around your waist and rolled you over. He dragged you out of the warmth of the blankets and directly back into the sunlit room. “Joel,” you groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“Nope.” He stood up, you still slightly in his arms. He half carried and half dragged you out of bed. You held onto the blankets and kept your eyes closed as long as you could. But when your feet touched the cool wood you conceded that your day had started. Whether you wanted it to or not. “Ugh, you’re a real piece of work. You know that?”

Joel let out a surprised scoff as you walked past him into the bathroom. You could hear him muttering under his breath about who was really the piece of work in this home. But he didn’t say anything to you, just joined you at the sink to brush his teeth.

Sometimes the normalcy was nice. You’d wake up and most days Joel was there next to you. Or he was making you both breakfast, or occasionally a note left next to a plate of food telling you he was out on patrol. 

You spent most of your time together, sharing the big old house while Ellie slept in the converted shed out back. But days like today, where he tried to joke with you while he brushed his teeth but his voice was too thick with sleep and you couldn’t understand his accent, they made you ache. 

Your heart would pulse painfully and you’d have to look away from him. You shared the same bed, lived in the same house. But you didn’t mean anything to him. You were just an old friend there to keep him warm at night. 

You’re pretty sure you’d both been traveling together for so long that it was habit and necessity that kept you together more than anything. You wished, yearned for more from him, but you knew he could never give it to you. You knew it was an impossible ask. 

Which made staying with him start to feel more suffocating. You feel like another part of his routine. Something akin to brushing his teeth rather than genuinely wanting you around, a chore. And you couldn’t handle that feeling anymore. 

You were drowning in the comfort of Jackson. But you were too much of a coward to ever fully leave him. Too hopeful to let go of that one fleeting feeling that maybe one day you could be more to him.

Joel smiled at you as you made your way downstairs. “I got your lunch, you should probably head out now. You’re already late.”

You took the bag from him, thanking him and left for the sheep. And that night when your shift was over you’d look over at Joel’s house. You’d see him strumming lightly on his guitar as he waited for you and you’d slip out of Jackson’s walls. Unwilling to face another night of heartache that made you feel so ridiculous. 

2 Years Later

“Y/N in here? Jesse’s looking for her.”

Joel glanced up from his guitar, he had been tuning it when Ellie’s head popped over his porch rail. “No, haven’t seen her in a couple days.”

He’d known being in Jackson was too much for you. Sometimes when he was getting a drink at the bar he could feel his skin crawling with how many people were surrounding him. His instinct to always be on guard, always be alert, was not easily lost after so many years. 

There was the siren’s call of peace here in this town, but he still had to patrol. Still had you, Ellie, and himself to look out for. He could never afford to let himself fully settle into the calm reprieve of Jackson. It would end up screwing him over only when he was outside the safety of the walls. 

So he sat, always a curling, burning feeling in his stomach as he tried to untense his shoulders. Join his brother for a ‘family’ dinner. Plaster on as friendly a grimace as he could when his neighbors would wave in the morning. 

You were not the same. You didn’t bother with pretending to be happy for Ellie’s comfort. You patrolled near constantly, outside the walls more than you were in. Which set him even more on edge. You’d be gone for days at a time before mysteriously appearing in his bed one morning. 

You’d smile then, as genuine a smile you could manage. Every time he’d ask where you’d gone and you would tell him you needed some air. He never asked what you did on the outside, where the bruises came from or what you’d done to earn them. 

You would eat breakfast, listen to him strum on his guitar and in a few more days disappear again. He thinks one of these days, now that Ellie’s grown, he might just disappear alongside you. Ellie sighed, “What’s Jesse want with her?” Joel asked. 

“He was gonna have her patrol with him today,” she had a shit-eating grin on her face as she propped her head in her hand. “I think he’s got a crush on her.”

Joel barked out a laugh, imagining Jesse pining after someone as disinterested as you. He’s sure he just admires you like he admires Joel. He looks up to you, probably just presents differently. “I’d love to see him try something,” he said through laughter.

Ellie shook her head, walking up the stairs and sitting next to him. “I’m pretty sure he’s terrified of her.”

He shook his head, “Rough combo.” Poor kid probably didn’t realize you weren’t mean, you just had a real bad resting face. “Ya know, I gotta head out soon. I can see if I can find her.”

Ellie perked up, crossing her legs as she leaned back in the rocking chair. “Would you?”

“Sure,” Joel went to place his guitar down but Ellie stopped him. 

“What’re you working on?”

“Oh,” he glanced at the instrument and shrugged. He wasn’t sure, really. He’d had to step back from patrolling as much as he used to. The cold was fucking with his back and knees. Made it harder for him to be as fast as he should be. You liked to tease him about it, call him an old man, but he caught you rubbing your shoulder every time it was about to rain. 

But without the ability to go on rides or kill infected, he was beginning to feel restless again. An uncomfortable thrumming under his skin that screamed at him to move, do something. So he screwed around with the guitar, tried to sing something, but nothing came out. 

He passed it over to Ellie, she immediately propped it on her lap, strumming something soft. “Nothing really, just needed something to do.” He sat with her a little while longer, giving her pointers as she went over some songs she’d been writing. 

He groaned as he got off the old rocking chair, saying goodbye to Ellie and heading to the stables. He was sure you were nearby, somewhere in a three mile perimeter of town. You’d been gone about four days, usually you’d be coming back by now. 

Tommy was waiting for him as he got his horse. “Partnering up today.”

“Alright,” Joel rode up to the barred gate of Jackson, waiting for the doors to open. “Ellie wanted me to look for Y/N while we’re out here.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed as he glanced at him. “She still gone?”

Joel hummed an affirmative, brushing the hair out of his eyes in irritation. You’d have to cut it again, it had gotten too damn long. He felt like one of the stupid teenage boys in town, always blowing his damn hair out of his face. 

“Where’d ya wanna head first?”

“She likes lurking around that old ski resort. We’ll see if she’s there first. If not, I’m sure she’ll pop up soon.” 

They rode in silence for a little while before Tommy sighed. Clearly growing bored with the lack of conversation. Joel let his brother suffer, watching in amusement as he shifted back and forth in his saddle and tried to think of what to say. 

He finally broke, showing Tommy some mercy. “Jesus, boy, spit it out.”

“It’s just,” Tommy paused, slowing down his mare to match Joel’s slow pace. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“Her being out her on her own all the time. I mean, if Maria left as often as Y/N does I’d be losing my mind.”

“Well,” Joel sighed, “I’m a lot tougher than you are.”

Tommy scoffed, glaring at him. “Whatever smartass, I wasn’t screwing around, I want to know.”

“Fine. Don’t know why you’re so damn interested.” Joel shrugged, thinking about it before finally answering. “Yeah, I guess it bothers me, a little. I mean, I’ve known her a long time. I know she can handle herself, I’m not really worried about her dying or nothing. I’m more worried about her just deciding she wants to be gone for good and leaving.”

Tommy was quiet for a bit, leaving Joel uncomfortable. The answer wasn’t very deep. It didn’t share a lot, but it left him feeling a particular shade of vulnerable that had him shifting around. He rolled his shoulders back, focusing on the feeling of snow nipping at his cheeks rather than his younger brother’s nosy stare. 

“I woudln’t worry about that.”

“Yeah,” Joel’s voice was curt, snappier than usual. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I don’t fucking know why, but she likes you. Likes Ellie, she might not love Jackson, but she wouldn’t just leave you guys.”

“Since when the hell are you an expert?”

Tommy smirked, “Since I got married.” Joel rolled his eyes, his brother had gotten entirely too smug when he married Maria. Suddenly, being married, made him an expert in anything and everything. He certaintly didn’t know a damn thing about Joel’s love life. 

Or lack thereof. 

Because you’d never talked about what you were, if you even were anything. That’s probably why it set him on edge so much when you left. You weren’t his to love or keep-honestly he wasn’t sure he was capable of that type of love anymore. 

You were friends. Allies more than anything, which was arguably more important in this world. There was nothing to tie you to him or encourage you to stay. 

He wasn’t deluded enough to believe you’d stay for Ellie. She was pretty much an adult now, and you’d never been a parent before. You didn’t know what the pain of losing a child was, she wasn’t as important to you as she was to him. 

He had no damn idea what had kept you here for so long. But he knew you were getting restless and he didn’t know how to help. 

They made it to the ski lodge and immediately leapt off their horses. There were screams coming from inside, screams that sounded a lot like yours. Joel ran for the doors, finger already on the trigger when the doors blew open. 

You looked up at him in surprise, “Joel! What’re you doing out here?” He drew back, stopping himself from slamming into you. 

His eyes scanned your form, you were covered head to toe in gore. The bandanna pushing your hair back had been a light blue, but now it was completely dyed red. Your jacket was in shreds. But you were still smiling up at him, then Tommy. 

“Jesus H Christ woman,” Tommy muttered behind him. 

You looked down at yourself, “Oh, yeah.” You sighed and once again were staring at Joel. “Fucking clickers, weren’t here before.”

“Are you alright? Were you bit?”

You waved off Joel’s concern like he was being dramatic. Like you weren’t standing before him covered head to toe in guts. “I’m fine.”

“Dammit,” you jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. He was getting a little louder, voice a little deeper as his frustration grew. He hated when you were this flippant about basic safety. “I told you to stop coming out so much, that we’d been-”

“Seeing more hordes. I know, sorry Joel, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’ll,” you trailed off, your eyes darting around before reluctantly landing back on his. “I promise I’ll stop leaving.”

Joel glanced behind himself, but Tommy had wandered back over to the horses. He was the opposite of subtle as he whistled, clearly giving you as much privacy as he could. Joel turned back towards you and took a step closer. 

“I’m not telling you to stop coming out here completely. I don’t want to take that from you.”

You shook your head, stepping closer as you shivered. Joel figured your jacket was in tatters and you were probably freezing your ass off. He took off one of his own coats and draped it over you. “I’m being reckless, risking infecting you and Ellie by coming out so much. Besides, it’s starting to get a little lonely.”

“Well,” Joel gave you a brief smile, “maybe one of these days you should wake me up when you slip away. I’ll come out here with you.”

You grinned, “Think you’d be able to keep up, old man?”

He scoffed, slinging an arm over your shoulder and leading you back to his horse. “Could you?”

You laughed, “With you? Probably not.” He was just about to join you up on Sunny when all three of you heard a strange noise coming up towards the lifts. You had cleared out the resort. So, what could it be?

You hopped off Sunny quickly, pulling out one of your guns and following Tommy and Joel as they went back through the clicker infested hellhole you’d just cleared. The noises got louder, it sounded a lot like feet pounding up the mountain. 

You made it outside, near the resort's old supply sheds. You were checking out the area, double checking you didn’t miss any infected. You were about to turn back around when you heard a scream. 

You ran towards the source of the noise, watching as a woman was crushed under a swarming body of infested. The only thing separating her from them was a flimsy metal gate. Tommy rushed forward before either you or Joel could stop him. Grabbing her and dragging her out from the bodies. 

“Fuck!”

“Tommy!”

Both of you wanted to scream at him. That was such an unbelievably stupid thing to do. She’d had at least fifty infected on top of her, there’s no way she wasn’t bit. But beyond that she was a stranger, you had no idea if she was a piece of shit that would lead raiders right back to Jackson or not. 

You didn’t have time to scold him, though, the swarm was screaming, racing towards you all. You ran back into the resort, heart racing as you slammed the doors to the lift closed behind you. “Tommy!” Joel called out, “Help me move this!”

They worked on wheeling a broke down lift towards an open window. You turned towards the hulking woman, “Got a gun?”

She nodded and you tossed her some ammo, “Good. Don’t fucking miss.” You raced throughout the station, trying to keep infected off Tommy and Joel while they moved the lift. But there was only so much you could do. Your rifle had jammed and you had used most of your supplies taking the clickers out earlier. 

And these bastards were fast, they seemed faster than normal. Maybe the cold irritated them or something. 

You screamed, taken off your feet as a runner threw itself at you. You rolled over, shoving your gun in its mouth and pulling the trigger. Brains splattered onto your face and before you could even roll it off of you there was another one leaping at you. 

Before it could sink its teeth in your neck there was the warm feeling of blood trailing down your chest. Joel stood over you, machete buried in the infected’s back as he yanked you to your feet. He didn’t let you walk, grabbing you and practically sending you flying towards Tommy. 

You scrambled up the lift and through the window, running towards the horses and mounting Sunny. You grabbed Tommy’s mare and rode the horses back to the open window. You watched the others spill out, keeping an eye out for any more infected and letting Joel hop up in front of you. 

Tommy and the woman shared a horse as she screamed out instructions to head towards the old mansion at the top of the mountain. You were too busy keeping infected away from your group to fully realize where you were going until it was too late. 

You were already through the gates of the mansion, infected being set on fire behind you when you grasped the situation at hand. 

You’d just wandered into some stranger’s camp, nearly completely empty on ammo, battered and tired. You didn’t know who she was or who her people were. Joel and Tommy seemed to be realizing that too, each of them tensing up as they got off the horses. 

“Thanks for the help back there. I’m Abby.”

Joel offered you a hand down, you hopped off Sunny and glanced around the garage. You were definitely fucking outnumbered and they had way more ammo than you. 

You hid slightly behind Joel, taking in the amount of people and trying to gauge how many guns were in the garage. Your eye snagged on a lone shotgun on a workstation and the bullets surrounding it. 

“I’m Tommy, this is my brother Joel…” Tommy’s voice trailed off before he could introduce you. Instantly everyone in the room had turned to stare at Joel, and every single one of them looked hostile. Like he’d punched each of them in the face at one point. 

And honestly with the amount of people he’s screwed over you wouldn’t be surprised. Still, this was not promising. 

Joel tensed up in front of you, nudging you slightly behind Sunny. You ducked behind her, hoping to go unnoticed by the rest of them and praying that Sunny didn’t buck out at you. 

Abby sucked on her teeth. She stared at Joel for a long minute before nodding her head towards the door and heading up the stairs. “Joel,” you whispered.

He shook his head, subtly waving you back into place as he was forced to follow the others up the stairs. You watched them herd him and Tommy out, one of the men in the back checked his ammo was loaded and you felt your throat seize in panic. 

Shit shitshitshitshitshit

Okay, this turned into a clusterfuck so insanely fast. You waited until every set of footsteps was a distant echo to move out from behind the horses. You were nearly out the door when you double backed for the shotgun. 

You heard a shout from upstairs, your head whipping towards the open door. You raced up the stairs, “Tommy!” It was Joel shouting, panic lacing his voice. 

You can never say what happened next exactly. You made it up the stairs, heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked and you’d never run that fast in your life. 

The door to the room was open, all you could see was Abby with a gun in hand, pointing it towards Joel. Your finger was on the trigger before you could even aim properly. The shot missed, hitting the wall behind her, grazing her back slightly. 

But it caused enough of a distraction, Joel wrenched the gun from her grasp, using the butt of it to knock her out. You shot at one of the men pinning Tommy down, it caught him in the side and he dropped to the ground. Crimson pooling out around him. 

The room went quiet, each of them staring at their dead comrade. “You cunt,” the woman leapt at you, knife raised in the air. You didn’t notice her protruding stomach until you had pulled the trigger. Her legs flew out from under her, nearly completely blown off from the shotgun blast. 

There was a primal sound of pain. One you’d heard many times in your life. It came from two directions, the pregnant woman bleeding out on the ground and the man who was now  flying at you. 

He knocked you to the ground. You wrestled for control of the shotgun, his hips pinning your pelvis painfully to the floor. You groaned out in pain and panic, shoving all your weight into the gun, bringing it up to catch him in the jaw. His head knocked to the side and you shoved him off of you. 

Shots were firing all around you, different screams and insults flying past your head. You were tuning in and out, ears ringing as you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck. You pulled until it snapped. When you were done you swiped his pistol from his holster, stepping over the twitching woman below you. 

There were only three people left when you walked back into the room, Tommy and Joel disposed of them quickly while you grabbed some rope and tied up Abby. She was still knocked out, a bad bruise forming on her head. You can imagine her day was going to get a lot worse when she woke up and saw the carnage around her. 

It was a slaughter, each of her friend’s lay brutally destroyed at her feet. 

But, it was their own damn fault. They shouldn’t have tried and fucked with you all. 

“Are you okay?” It was your turn to fuss over Joel. He had clearly been their target. It had to have been someone you’d screwed over, Joel had screwed over. But the list was too long and you’d never seen this woman before. 

Joel nodded, but there was blood soaking through his jacket. You ignored his protests, ripping the jacket off and inspecting the wound. It wasn’t anything too bad, a bullet must have just skimmed his bicep. You wrapped it up pretty quickly, then you let your head fall to his chest. 

He chuckled slightly, his hand coming behind you to rest on your back. “You okay?”

“I was scared.”

Your voice was quiet, quiet enough that you almost hoped he had missed your small confession. “What?”

His hand had stilled before it moved up your back and lightly cupped your neck. He tilted your head back so you had to look at him, had to make eye contact. “I was scared.” You huffed out, nearly ashamed at presenting yourself like this to him. 

You didn’t get scared, the entire time you’ve known him you’ve each been fighting for your lives. This wasn’t anything new. But something about this really got to you. It felt more final this time. “They were after you, Joel. Had a gun pointed to your head.”

“I always have a gun pointed at my head, darling. Comes with the territory.” You rolled your eyes and stepped away from him, ignoring the way his hand lingered on your cheek for a moment before it dropped to his side. 

The door behind you all flew open and all three guns were pointed at the intruder. Ellie raised her hands and stumbled back in shock at the sight of the dead bodies around you all. “Holy shit. What the fuck happened?”

You sighed and lowered your gun, Tommy and Joel doing the same. “Ellie, head back to Dina,” you instructed. You were going to have to get some information from Abby, you were sure Joel didn’t want her to see the methods about to be used. 

Ellie opened her mouth to argue but Joel cut her off. “Do as she says, Ellie. Head back to the others and say everything’s fine and that we’ll be back soon.”

She seemed like she wanted to stay, desperately. Instead she conceded and closed the door behind her as she left. You, Joel, and Tommy each shared a look before you got to work. 

Abby was tied up in a chair, you’d wrapped her up more than you would have with anyone else, mainly because her biceps were the size of your head. 

When she finally woke up, she immediately started screaming. You’d moved the bodies of her friends, propping them up in front of her so they were the first thing she saw when she woke up. 

Tommy had left for Jackson, made sure no one would suspect why you and Joel were gone for so long. Now you were sitting on a table behind Abby while Joel started. “What are you doing here?”

“Fuck you,” she spat. 

Joel sighed and tried again, “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

Same response. It happened a few more times, she was unphased by anything Joel did to her. Just telling him to fuck off more times than you could count. You got sick of it after a while. 

You hadn’t had to torture anyone in a couple years, you were hoping to just get this over with as quickly as possible. You stood up and Joel let go of Abby’s chair, backing away from her. 

“My partner,” you started, “prefers brute force to get the answers he wants. Me,” you stood in front of Abby and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m a little more creative.”

You dug the knife into her skin, peeling back a layer or two of epidermis and ignoring the way she screamed. Twenty years ago, you might have felt guilty for this. Now, she’d tried to hurt Joel, she’d brought this on herself. 

Five pulled nails and a lot of skin later she finally squealed. No one knew they were out here. They were stationed in Seattle and wouldn’t come looking. Joel had killed her father, the doctor from the hospital, and she wanted revenge. 

You rolled your eyes, pointing out the hypocrisy of her actions. How many fathers had she killed on her way here to get to Joel. How many lives had she taken to protect someone she loved. When she tried to argue you slit her throat and dragged the bodies to be put in the pile of burned infested. 

“Damn.” You sat behind Joel on Sunny, watching the bodies go up in flames. He turned her around, heading back towards Jackson. “What a way to start the day.”

The bed was empty when Joel woke up. He felt surprised, usually you gave him a few days before you left again. But before he could linger on the thought for too long the door to the bedroom was opening and you were walking in. Your back was to him, you were carrying something in your hands. 

When you turned around you frowned when you saw him already waiting for you. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“What are you doing?”

You swatted him away when he stood and tried to help you carry the tray in the room. You put it on the nightstand and shoved him back in bed. He could have resisted, pushed against you, but he let himself fall as he chuckled at the determined look on your face. 

You hummed and shrugged your shoulders, placing the tray in his lap. “Thought I’d bring you breakfast.” He glanced down, a plate with a stack of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Most importantly; coffee. 

“Where the hell’d you get all this?” You didn’t answer, just had a mischievous little smirk on your face while you tidied up the room. Joel caught your wrist as you passed him, he tugged you into bed next to him, careful not to spill the tray. “Come on, help me out with all this. Can’t eat it all on my own.”

He could, and would do so eagerly. But it had been a while since he’d eaten breakfast without you rushing out the door. And for once, he was feeling domestic without the crushing weight of guilt turning the taste of your pancakes bitter in his mouth. He wanted to enjoy this, however long it lasted. 

You didn’t bother arguing, picking off some of his food while you both sat in contented silence. Eventually you broke it, sitting at the end of the bed so you could face him while he sipped on his coffee. 

Lord, he had missed the taste of caffeine. 

“Where are you working today?”

“Promised Bob I’d help him out with shoeing the horses today. You?”

“Helping Maria with fixing up that new classroom in school.”

“You're not leaving? You've been hangin’ around here a lot.”

He knew instantly he shouldn’t have opened his mouth. 

What once had been easy silence instantly turned tense. The warm sun that had filtered through the blinds was right in his eyes and causing a headache. The sheets were scratchy and that blank look on your face was oppressive. 

Your easygoing smile, one he hadn’t seen in a long time, dropped from your face and you shifted uncomfortably on top of the comforter. “Yeah, guess you're right.”

“Didn’t mean it like-”

You stood up, patting his leg with an awkward stiltedness and moved to the closet. “I should head out, promised Maria we’d get it done by end of day.” 

He knew what he said had been wrong, but he wasn’t completely sure what about it was so wrong. He watched you leave without another word and sighed to himself, getting out of bed and forcing himself from the comfort of the house. 

He’d only had a moment, one singular moment, where he’d finally been able to relax for once. And he didn’t feel restless, or anxious, or guilty about it. He’d felt at ease, a feeling so foreign it was halfway through the day before he’d finally been able to identify it. 

He was in the middle of cleaning Sunny’s hoof and he’d nearly gotten kicked in the face with his distraction. 

But he didn’t have any sort of epiphany over what could have possibly upset you so much. 

A normal person, not you apparently, would be completely unbothered by Joel’s question. Because that’s all it was. A question, a simple, understandable, inquiry about why someone as flighty as you had been in one place for so long. 

Still it stung. He’d said with a tone like ‘Why the hell are you still in my house?’ And in a crazy, uber-paranoid-lady way, it was confirmation of what you were to him. You were a daily task, necessity, and required comfort, but you were not something permanent. And you’d deluded yourself into believing you were something more. Your own fault, not something to place on Joel’s shoulders. 

Still, the bitter taste of rejection was a hard one to get off the tongue. 

“God, I’m insane.”

“What was that?”

You glanced up at Maria, momentarily having forgotten you weren’t alone. “Um, nothing, sorry.” You let yourself get lost in the repetitive motion of painting the walls of the classroom. Using old stencils they’d found or created to do a row of ABC’s and numbers along the perimeter of the wall. 

How is this what you turned into? 

You’d gone from a deadbeat smuggler who’d kill without a second thought to someone painting an elementary classroom worrying about boys. 

Well, men, you supposed. Seemed unfair to put Joel in the same category as someone like Jesse. 

Even though you were sure that Jesse would never make you feel like a chore instead of a person. 

Annnnnd… new low reached, considering Jesse as a viable option for dating. Damn, you needed a hobby or something. 

Around noon Tommy stopped by, he had sandwiches from Seth and you didn’t want to think about the lengths he’d gone through to get them from the cantankerous old asshole. 

“So,” there was a certain tone of voice Tommy would get when he was about to meddle in someone’s business. You stopped midchew to stare at him in suspicion while he smirked. Maria eyed her husband and simply sighed, resigned to let him interrogate you. “You and Joel.”

You huffed, swallowing the rest of your food and throwing the sandwich down on the plate next to you. “This was a bribe wasn’t it?”

He laughed, “Yep.” 

It was interesting to you how different Joel and Tommy were. Joel’s accent was gruff, commanding, most times hard to understand. Especially when he was pissed off. Tommy had a lightness to him the both of you lacked. You assumed it came from Jackson, he’d been here a lot longer than either of you. And he’d also found Maria. 

He also didn’t know how to butt out. A skill Joel, thankfully, understood. “Just curious about you two. You know, Joel’s seemed a lot happier in Jackson now that you’ve been around longer than a week.��

“Well, I think he’s getting a little sick of me.”

Tommy frowned, “Why’s that?”

You shrugged, taking another bite before answering. “I don’t know, just something he said this morning.”

“What’d he say?”

“Damn, Tommy, I can’t remember. It was how he said it, I guess.” You huffed and glared at him, “Look we’re not your new version of the bachelor, alright. Butt out.”

Maria opened her mouth, probably to scold you for being a bitch. Tommy held up a hand and shook his head. “Alright, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” You asked, watching as he finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“Yep,” he leaned over to kiss Maria on the cheek and gave you a strong pat on the back. “That’s it. Message received, I’ll just butt out now.”

Both you and Maria watched him go, a suspicious look on both of your faces as he went. Tommy never gave up that easy, ever. “You know he’s up to something, right?”

You glanced over at Maria, sighing as you picked up your paintbrush again. “I know.”

The answer to what exactly he’d been planning came three days later. 

Despite yourself and your feelings of rejection, you’d stayed in Jackson. You’d been paranoid since the run in with Abby and her people. It was dangerous for Joel to stay in one place, word would spread and old enemies would know where to find him. 

That thought plagued you every time you glanced at the door out of Jackson. If something happened while you were gone and pouting over something petty, you’d never forgive yourself. 

But you did put some distance between you and Joel. Staying in the guest room instead of his, not bringing him breakfast like some wife from the fifties. You’d put up boundaries where there weren’t any before, determined not to be used as some sort of daily comfort. 

And if Joel had anything against these new unsaid rules, he didn’t react. Which kind of pissed you off more. Trust, if there was a therapist you would see one. You’re aware your train of thinking isn’t what most would consider healthy. 

But there isn’t, so you just force yourself to push it down everyday and keep going. Like you always have. It wasn’t until you got here that rejections or emotions meant anything to you. This place was making you too damn soft. 

Tommy dropped by one night and invited both you and Joel over to his for dinner and Joel had accepted before you could say no. 

There wasn’t much you could bring over, you couldn’t cook and didn’t feel like burning down the kitchen trying. So you stole some flowers from the garden of the mean old lady that lived next to you while Joel kept watch. 

Maria and Tommy’s house wasn’t too far from you and Joel, but god, walking next to him you’d think they lived a mile away. 

“You know, foods gonna be gone by the time we get there.”

Joel huffed out a short laugh. “We got time. Feel like you’re always tryna rush off lately.” You didn’t have an answer for him, not one that wouldn’t reveal why you didn’t want to be alone with him. So you just shrugged. 

You could feel him staring at you, eyes drilling holes in the back of your head, but you refused to say anything. “How’s the guest room?”

The question caught you off guard, you stumbled over your own feet for a second before turning around to face him. “Uh, fine. Bed’s smaller, I guess. But I don’t have a giant hogging the sheets,” you attempted to smile at him. But he didn’t seem to find anything funny about your response. 

His brows were furrowed, lips set in a pissy sort of line. You finally caught on to the undertones of anger in his voice. The special sort of gruffness that only comes out when he’s pissed off. 

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Just wondering.” And that was it. He brushed past where you’d stopped walking to face him. His shoulder clipping you as he did and was walking off to Tommy’s, leaving you behind. 

You scoffed at the attitude. Not entirely sure what you’d done to deserve it and followed after him. The both of you finished the walk in angered silence, neither one of you aware why the other was so angry. You just were. 

When Tommy opened the door the smile on his face quickly turned into a smirk. “There you two are. Trouble in paradise?”

You shoved the flowers into his chest and stormed past him. “For Maria.”

You heard Joel mutter the same thing you’d told Tommy a few days ago. “Butt out.”

Maria was in the kitchen, finishing off whatever meat she’d decided to cook for you all tonight. You’d gotten so used to the QZ’s strange square ration bars, sometimes you struggled  actually identifying real food. 

You helped her set the table, ignoring the stares of both men on your back and were about to sit down… When Tommy literally dove under you to force you to sit next to Joel. 

You glared at him while you circled the table, throwing yourself down into the chair and sighing at the self-satisfied look on his face. “Your brother’s insufferable.”

Joel grumbled but didn’t say anything. So you were getting the silent treatment now. Really? 

Fucking child. 

“Alright, dinner is served.” Maria placed the roast on the table and took a seat beside Tommy, smiling at you all. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care how tense it was on your and Joel’s side. 

“Thank you, Maria.”

You forced a smile, not one to let Joel be the only one with manners. “Yes, thank you, Maria.” She hummed, carving into the roast and taking a slice for herself and Tommy. You reached for the knife and fork but Joel beat you to it. 

He cut off a portion and dropped it down on your plate, the mash potatoes spreading slightly at the impact. You sighed, muttering a belligerent thank you and took a bite. 

Couldn’t help himself could he? Always the Texan gentleman. 

It was infuriating. 

For a few minutes there was only the sound of metal scraping porcelain. And you felt bad, honestly, Maria and Tommy invited you both over for a nice dinner and you were pouting like toddlers. 

You weren’t even sure why you were upset with each other!

Obviously, you were still stinging from Joel’s use of your “relationship.” But you had no clue what had crawled up his ass and died. “Can you pass the bread?”

You looked up from your plate, staring at the side of Joel’s head. He continued to shovel food in his face. “Joel?” Nothing, not even a twitch. 

You reached across from him, purposefully shoving your arm in front of him so he couldn’t eat the bite on his fork and grabbed the bread basket. “Ain’t got manners, now?” He growled at you, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Says you,” you hissed back. This was devolving into childish anger so quickly. And you didn’t know why! 

God, what was his problem?

“So,” Tommy started and you were startled out of your glaring match with Joel. “Y/N, you know Bob?”

You slowly turned away from Joel and nodded. “Yeah, the horse guy.”

“Yeah, he’s been asking about you.” Tommy took another bite of food and shrugged, “Told him you were free this Saturday.”

You ignored Joel’s fork clanking loudly against his plate and shook your head. “No I’m not. I’m patrolling with Joel.”

Tommy waved you off, “Nah, don’t worry about it. You need to get out more anyway. Socialize some.”

“Tommy,” Joel started. His voice was low, an unspoken warning lacing it. “You need to stop meddling.”

“What? You’ve got a problem with a little date, Joel?”

You glanced between the two, hidden in their stares was a secret language only the brothers were privy to. There was a tense silence before Joel was picking his fork back up and eating, refusing to make eye contact with anyone at the table. 

“Not interested, Tommy. Thanks though.” It would feel wrong going on some blind date like you weren’t currently pining over the man you lived with. Besides, you were past the period of life where you wanted to ‘date.’ About one apocalypse past it. 

“Too bad, you’re going.” You opened your mouth to argue but both Tommy and Maria were leveling you with glares that allowed no room for negotiation. Since when did Maria join him in these ridiculous schemes?

“We’re having our harvest festival this weekend,” Maria stated. “Bob will accompany you.”

The rest of dinner was spent with Tommy and Maria blabbering away while you and Joel fumed in your seats. You didn’t know his reason but you were pretty pissed off you were being forced into a date. 

One, you were planning on skipping the stupid fucking harvest thing. It was a waste of resources and you didn’t understand why they clung to old traditions so desperately. 

Two, you didn’t want to go on a date. The only man you wanted to be with was sitting next to you and currently taking his anger out on a piece of bread. 

You let your mind fade into the background. Your eyes tracked the movements of Joel’s hands while he ate, no longer hearing Tommy and Maria. Until you blinked and dinner was over and Joel was waiting for you by the door. 

You nearly jumped at how loudly Joel slammed the door closed. You toed your boots off, watching him throw his jacket on the kitchen chair and reach for the bottle of whiskey on the counter. He ignored you, heading up the stairs and into his office. 

You took in a deep breath, trying to shake off the funk from the last couple of days. Slowly you made your way up the stairs, knocking on the doorframe to his office. 

He was just sitting in his chair, staring at the guitar on his desk. There was a glass of amber liquor in his hand, but he wasn’t making any moves to drink more. “Wanna talk?”

“‘Bout what?” He placed the glass on the table and picked up the new strings for his guitar. 

“I don’t know,” you walked in and sat down on the stool next to him. “You’ve seemed off since we left for Tommy’s.” 

His finger drummed across the denim of his jeans. He stared through the window, the lights of Jackson casting a warm glow over his face. 

If you tilted your head just right it softened him. The scars faded, the only wrinkles you could see were smile lines and you could see a shadow of the man he once was. The father, brother, contractor, someone long lost to the cruelties of time and the world outside these walls. 

“A date,” he scoffed. “My brother never knows when to stop, does he?” You didn’t bother answering. You know he wasn’t talking to you, just thinking out loud. 

You propped your elbow on his desk, resting your head while you waited for him to collect his thoughts. He let out a long sigh, his eyes on the guitar while he addressed you. 

“You drive me insane, you know that?”

“I’m aware.”

He cracked, his lips lifting slightly at the corners. Barely a smile, but it was better than nothing. “I think I’ve got you figured out. Think I finally understand how this,” he gestures between the two of you, “works. Then you disappear, or bring me breakfast, or you suddenly leave and start sleeping in another bed and I’m lost all over again.”

You shifted in your seat, fiddling with your nails, trying to figure out what he meant. If either of you were confused, it was you. “What’re you talking ‘bout, Joel?”

He sighed and finally looked at you, “Talkin’ about us. I’m talking about how infuriating you are.”

Your brows furrowed, scoffing slightly at the tone of his voice. He was still angry, for no damn reason. You stood up, ready to leave, when his hand wrapped around your wrist. “Didn’t say I was done, sweetheart.”

You gasped when he tugged you down. You landed in his lap, his legs spreading to accommodate you. “Joel what’re you doing?”

“Something I’ve been putting off for too damn long.”

Fireworks don’t go off somewhere in the distance and the world doesn’t stop. But your heart races and your body tingles when you taste the whiskey on his lips. You become hyper aware of each individual strand when his hand comes up to bury itself in your hair. 

And when your lips part to let him in you swear you’ve never felt like this before. Your body is working like you’re running from something, getting ready to fight something off, but it’s the first time in a while your mind is completely calm. 

You shift, your legs wrapping around his waist as a blanket of calm drapes itself over you. It rushes through you like a raging river, shutting everything unnecessary down. 

You don’t worry if you’re too out of practice, not having kissed anyone in a long while. You don’t think about if you're too stiff on his lap. You run your hands over his chest, squeezing the muscles of his arms and then letting them delve into his hair. 

At a certain point, you’ll have to breathe. You’ll have to talk about what this means for the two of you. But for right now you’re content, at ease, happy to just live the rest of your days in this moment. 

Kissing Joel Miller like there’s nothing outside these walls, no other purpose but to be with him.

part two

end. — I do not own the characters or the game The Last Of Us, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00 @marimarvelfan

[centrally-unplanned]

I find myself interested in how ineffective integration was for Ireland vis a vis the UK in the 19th century. Certainly after 1832 voting reforms and the 1829 repeal of the ban on Catholics serving in parliament (UK-wide but ofc hitting Ireland the hardest), the Irish were at more-or-less equal footing as the English or Scots when it came to voting rights and the legal system (I think most people don't know this! They think the Irish couldn't vote in the 19th century!) And it wasn't even an "on paper" deal for voting rights, Irish were active in government (they even had Irish PMs, though ofc Protestant), by the latter half of the 19th century economic regulations were equalized, and they got within a hair's breadth of Home Rule before some munitinous unionists and WW1 got in the way. Despite the rep a lot of countries have gigantic ethnic minorities, and liberalism/equal franchise is actually pretty decent solution to that problem. Why didn't ~100 years of representation in the House of Commons, in the era when "nation building" was at its peak, not work?

From what I can tell, timing is of course part of it. At a simple level, World War One was such a nationalist godsend; it created the "radicalism cascade", a weakened center and domino revolutions inspiring everyone with a cause with a sort of temporal Schelling Point. Without it, would the 1912 Home Rule have just been implemented in due time, and Ireland would be like Scotland today? At a more structural level, the timing was particularly rough because WW1 was the tail end of the age of religion in Europe. So much of the conflict was over Protestant vs Catholic, and after WW2 if Ireland was united under one home rule government in the UK it's hard to imagine the secularizing age powering so much conflict. Had they "held on" a few more decades you could see it calming down.

I think those are true enough but you do gotta dig down to another level. "Protestant" wasn't really just a religion in Ireland - it was the Protestant Ascendancy, a ruling class of combined English settlers and converted Irish who, during the imperial era before the 19th century, built an entirely separate ruling class in Ireland. And it was a deep ruling class - Catholics were barred from voting in even the Dublin local parliament, they were banned from being judges or lawyers, inheritance law was rigged to privilege Protestant sons while converting away from the Anglican church came with property confiscations. Depending on what counts, at its peak in the 18th century up to 30% of the country had opportunistically converted, in a system rigged top to bottom against the Catholics.

Imagine for a second India was given representation in the House of Commons and given self-rule. Just ignore the distance and demography issues for now, this obviously wouldn't actually work, instead think about what that transition would look like. The British "Indian Civil Service" would have to be dismantled...which was like 10k brits vs over 100k Indians. Actual british military officers in the country in the 19th century was less than 100k - and it was a rotating duty, they didn't all live there. Dismantling that really isn't that hard! Those people just go home. The core that ruled was deeply integrated into the country, but it was tiny - the vast majority of India was ruled by Indians, in the name of the Crown. They would just...keep going but now be in parliament.

That was impossible in Ireland. Britain had actually launched one of the most intensive cultural conversion programs of a foreign nation around in the 17th and 18th centuries, it was nowhere close to the "light imperial touch" of elsewhere. But it never...worked. Instead it just built this gigantic ruling class, deeply enmeshed in both Ireland and England, completely dependent on that superiority economically, but seen as outsiders by the Catholic Irish majority. "Protestant & Catholic" is at least half a gigantic class war. And in the 19th century the UK brought "laissez faire liberalism" to Ireland and was like "look, we are equal now!" after two+ centuries of rigging the system. It was literally the "kicking out the ladder after climbing up" equality meme.

This was why Home Rule was so bitterly contested, why Protestant Anglo-Irish officers threatened to mutiny in 1912 if it was implemented. They understood that the first acts of Home Rule were going to be, essentially, reparations. Which the Irish almost surely deserved. But Imperial, Liberal, 19th Century UK was not going to give reparations to the fucking Irish, it was not ready to dismantle its dejure and defacto aristocrats in that way - or at least not until it was too late, some land reform for example did begin in 1903. Scotland didn't need it, Wales was too weak to fight it, but Ireland was in the sweet spot of being weak enough to be oppressed but strong enough to oppose it and fight back once the culture changed.

Or at least that is my current read, this is a low-confidence post. Curious to learn more!

[bonny-kookoo]

Bonny!! Can we please get more Lo:Yoongi and OC? Like maybe her transition into being Queen/ or him courting her.

Him courting her is so cute honestly haha

All the workers at the palace are talking about you.

Mostly, because ever since the King had chosen you, he himself has been slowly changing. And while a lot of people were worried he might become weak after what happened during the fight with Jungkook, it's clear now that that's not the case at all.

He's just a lot calmer now, having realized that he has now a person he can find some quiet company in.

You don't expect anything from him at all- you cared for him when he was injured with hands so gentle, and you're always understanding of his rough tone and even rougher ways of handling the palace and it's daily tasks. Even though your kind despises violence, you accept that his does not, and actively uses it to solve their issues.

Yoongi, at the end of the day, is a king who earned his crown through bloodshed and death. And one day, his own will be taken the same way.

But until then, he will let himself enjoy those tender moments you're gifting him- just like today, as he has his head in your lap, both of you sitting outside in the palace gardens, birds flying overhead across the skies while the fountain runs a few meters away from you. He's rarely ever felt this calm before, your hand on his shoulder, while you let him rest for once.

Yoongi has never wanted his spot.

With his father forcefully challenging him when he was just about old enough to be considered somewhat of a man, he had no choice but to see it through- killing his father that day, cries of his mother forever edged into his mind. He doesn't know where she is today- most likely passed away already, though even if not, he'd never be able to see her again.

The partners of Kings who lost their crowns are exiled, after all.

"I'd like to offer you something." Yoongi says, eyes still closed as he speaks.

"..huh?" You wonder, unsure what he means. "Like a present?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yes. A gift." He clarifies. "I have yet to properly court you."

"Oh that's not.. that's not necessary at all." You giggle. "I'll stay with you either way, for as long as you'll want me." You tell him, and at that, his eyes open.

"I know." He responds. "But you live here now, amongst my people. And it is my people's way to properly court a partner." He explains.

"Alright, I'll accept it then." You agree, and he quiets down at that, before he moves, face turning to look up at you.

"What would you like?" He asks. "I just.. realized I do not know what you.. like, and what not." He explains, eyes moving away from yours in thought. "I should most likely.. have more conversations with you.." He mumbles to himself.

"I mean, we're talking right now?" You say, and at that, he looks at you again, before he moves to sit up next to you, seemingly searching for something in your face.

"We should.. talk more often." He says. "I enjoy talking to you."

"Me too." You say, smiling at him. "Oh, you have a petal there-" You say, moving closer to blow a stray petal from the blooming trees off of his hair- and when you move back to tell him it's gone, you're met with his eyes wide open, staring at you. "-uh.. did I do something wrong?" You ask, unsure, your words making him snap out of whatever trance he was just in.

"Are you trying to play with me?" He challenged, eyes narrowing as they stare you down.

"I- no? I just blew the petal off-" You explain yourself, when he cuts you off.

"I know that humans show affection by kissing their partners." He tells you, and at that, you realize what he probably thought you were leaning in for.

"Oh- Oh, no, I wouldn't-" You start, and his head tilts to the side at that.

"You wouldn't kiss me?" He asks, amused by the way you seem to get shy now.

"No! I would but-" You continue, and suddenly, you can make out the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Then what is speaking against it right now?" He asks. "We are partners. I believe that this gesture is more than appropriate right now." He tells you, before he leans in now, coming closer to you. "Or maybe that could be my.. gift to you?" He proposes, and you swallow thickly, thinking about it.

You do like him. And he's right- nothing speaks against it.

"I think.. it could definitely be considered.. a gift of sorts." You say, and he smiles a little more now.

"Well then?" He says. "I need an appropriate.. demonstration." He tells you, and at that, you gather all your courage, and move forward to just peck his lips-

but he makes it clear right away, that a quick little peck was not what he was looking for.

[jmdbjk]

All things Walmart, poo, ticks and inspiration...

Spoiler alert but to hell with it, I know y'all have watched it all already.

Things I cannot relate to and will never happen to me:

• Pushing my cart down the snack aisle at Walmart and running into Jungkook searching for Tostitos and a sponge.

• Going out to the mailbox to gather the day's junk mail and two guys on a Harley drive by and wave at me and me not know it was Jimin and Jungkook.

• Hiking through the forest and not realizing that guy way up ahead swatting at mosquitoes is Jimin.

• Enjoying my lobster mac & cheese at a restaurant and not know Jungkook is discreetly (not so discreetly) staring at my food trying to decide if he wants to order what I'm having.

I didn't have time today to spend on this like I wanted to and I feel like everyone has already talked about the finer points they're most interested in so I'm going to just drop a few things that made ME laugh, smile and cherish the fact they even started this thing, this show. Episode 3 will be here tomorrow night (for me) so I don't want to delay this anymore so I'll be brief for Ep. 2.

Saturday, July 15:

They left the campsite and Jungkook got to ride the motorcycle. Jimin said he looked like a proper American.

They stopped at a park and hiked a trail. Jimin fought mosquitoes. It was brutal. I've seen people worried about ticks. And snakes. Jimin pointed out a spider on a tree. Jungkook fantasized about alligators. Tick inspections occurred all around later on I hope.

We didn't see the transition from woods to marina. Maybe they had to make a bathroom stop for Jimin. Or urgent care to get him some meds. Who knows. Poor thing was suffering.

On the yacht, Jimin was still feeling puny but he tried. He ate though he knew he was risking it all.

He horsed around with Jungkook with the beast still rolling around in his guts.

I really wasn't expecting so much poop talk during Are You Sure but here we are.

I think this summed up the yacht trip. Especially after how it all started with the excursion being leaked by the boat captain himself. Perhaps the editors did this on purpose.

FYI those concentric ripples in the images are my camera trying to capture the screen in a different frequency than the monitor refreshes or some tech mumbo jumbo. Apologies and please ignore. It's Disney's fault for not letting us screen cap using an app.

I think Jungkook was looking for ticks. He would take something like that seriously, don't you think?

But Jimin mostly slept on the yacht. He had a rough night before. They still salvaged what they could and they still seemed to enjoy the experience.

A trip to Walmart. On the way they have one of those rambling conversations where Jungkook, who is not the most talkative type, decides to talk Jimin's ear off. They talked about making music and what drives them personally in their choices about their work.

We'll visit that thought again in a minute....

The whole Walmart visit is surreal to me. I go to Walmart at least once a week so to see Jimin and Jungkook browsing the aisles just blows my mind. NEVER did I EVER dream I'd see them looking for bacon at WALMART.

They look just like anyone else pushing their shopping cart going down the cereal aisle past the boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Sugar Pops.

Jimin was a tad testy when JK disappeared. He even cussed him out. HAHAHAHAHAAA. BEEN THERE DONE THAT!!!

I know Jimin-ssi, why are men like that? I swear to god...

I saw someone say this sums up their dynamic perfectly: Jimin calculating in his mind how to work the self-check out while Jungkook does the helicopter cam above him.

You gotta give it to Walmart though, they do know their customer. The self check out is pretty self-explanatory.

The content of their cart:

TWO boxes of Twinkies???? And both Prego AND Ragu...

Getting to the AirBnb accommodations. Cooking. Chilling out before bedtime and Jimin lets Jungkook hear Who.

Horsing around in bed. You know, all these years, I've wondered how they keep the toothpaste spit inside their mouths while brushing their teeth? We've seen them brushing their teeth backstage, in the bathroom, walking around the green room, outside practicing choreo... HOW DO THEY NOT DROOL ALL OVER THEIR CUSTOM MADE OUTFITS? And now wrestling on the bed...

Waking up, JK and his frosted flakes. Jokes about abandoning Jimin...more horsing around on the bed. And then they doze off again. I know they did. Hard to tell but Jungkook is glued to Jimin's back.

Jimin gets to ride on the back of the Harley with JK. It starts to rain. I guess they were bringing it back to the rental place.

Going back to the store for a sponge.

I think Jimin was feeling much better. Looked like he slept better.

We see the Army who said they met Jimin and Jungkook last year. When I first heard about it I thought how lucky and random and what kind of stars need to align for that to happen??? What a great experience!!! When will it be our turn???

And then the next idea for Run BTS (the show)... hide and seek while shopping for specific ingredients to cook with and the twist is they're in a foreign country. WORLD TOUR RUN BTS!!! BIGHIT I HAVE IDEAS!!!! LISTEN TO ME!!!!

Its raining, dancing in the rain as they exit the store. They leave in the Jeep and head back to the house to eat their pizza.

Army in Connecticut won in life.

Then they start their journey back to NYC (I'm assuming) so Jungkook can go on to London and Jimin can head back to Korea. They stop one more time for lobster rolls and lobster mac & cheese.

That's when we see Jungkook contradict himself...

In the Jeep just a little while ago you said nothing inspired you. Was it the rain or the beer that was inspiring you? Or was it the head full of new memories and ideas about the next trip that were swirling around in there?

By the end of this trip, they are back in sync.

Their closing interview: JK wants to keep doing this until they're 50, 12 more seasons! JK said "practice being better variety show entertainers so the two of us can continue doing this" as motivation to continue doing this type of thing way into the future. Jimin found humor in that. And that's where we fade to black.

And during the credits, Jimin is eating again, spicy ramen, possibly the next day. Apparently his stomach is back in order as he readies to fly back home.

What a trip.

Deeper thoughts:

Jimin and Jungkook wanted to spend time together. We knew that. It didn't seem to happen when it could have. They even said so in the Jeep. But JK concluded the discussion succinctly:

Finally.

Finally they were spending quality time together. Though their talk was brief, we have no idea if there was more to it before or after what we saw of it. The editors showed us that much enough to explain the situation and why it had not happened. The end result of it all was: finally.

Finally, after wanting this. Finally, after saying we would. Finally... doing something together that we loved doing before and we've wanted to do again. Finally.

Jimin pushed for it. He knew. He made it happen. Finally.

They are two distinct personalities and their journeys through this solo era leading up to their enlistment were different.

Jimin is a leader and doer. He is the initiator. Jimin said if he hadn't pushed for this show to happen it would not have gotten done.

There were a few moments in these first two episodes where Jimin brought up MS. Jungkook didn't seem thrilled to talk about it.

They truly didn't know what they were going to film for this show. They got in the car and started to make it up as they went. I can see how that would be awkward.

They don't understand that just them being themselves is what we want to see. They don't have to try to make something happen. Its the spontaneous moments that make the best content (see kayak dump and Walmart trip). Maybe Jimin was more in tune with this than Jungkook was but he is the one who turns on a live and sits there and watches Netflix while eating chicken. They had to get back in sync and they did.

So the first episode was a little slow, a little cautious, a little quiet. Reserved. That first day they were finding their groove, getting 're-acquainted' if you will, finding the slots and spaces in each other that fit and feel the most comfortable to them. You could see them relax as the day wore on.

But, they still had challenges. JK's head cold. Jimin's stomach bug. You want some TMI's? Watch Jimin run to the bathroom for the fifth time.

We may see a little bit of this quiet re-acquainting when BTS does its first group live next year. And yes, I am 100% confident we will see this first live shortly after Jimin and Jungkook are discharged. We will see them in a way we've never seen before.

After both episodes... my conclusion is we saw about 2 hours out of the roughly 3 or three and a half days Jimin and Jungkook were together. Thursday evening, July 13 through Sunday evening, July 16. I'm not exactly sure when JK left for London but Jimin went back to Korea on July 17.

I wonder if the plan was to create hour long episodes or if there was so much they wanted to show the episodes just ended up being that long. They could have easily hidden Jimin's stomach issues from us. They could have edited a lot of it down. But in making the episodes this long, they showed more and more of their dynamic in play.

I didn't put everything into this post that I wanted to but we've got six more episodes coming and I still haven't had time to watch Run Jin.

Hashtags arent working... I'll add them later.

[grave-z-boy]

are you comfortable with writing about a transman? if so id like to see arthur morgan comforting ftm!reader, maybe calling him a "good boy" to make him happy x

Arthur Morgan x Trans!male!reader

Summary: Reader runs into an old family member and is desperately in need of comfort afterwards. (Once again making excuses to be sad and transgender)

Words: 1264

Warning: hurt/comfort, pre-transition reader is referred to as “dead” and “little girl” by reader, reader threatens his cousin, shitty family members.

A/n: shorter fic cuz I've been banging my head against the wall trying to get the rest of my writing back.

Masterlist

“You need to eat.”

You glanced up at Arthur, the fire between the two of you illuminating him in a orange glow. Your food had gone cold, and you didn’t mean to be wasteful, but today was…a lot. You shifted uncomfortably on the large rock you'd perched yourself on.

“‘M not hungry.”

You heard him sigh as you stared down at your plate.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or are you just gonna sit there and sulk.”

“It's nothing-”

It was something, it was definitely something. You went into town on your own, bright and early so you could be in and out of the shops and get back to camp while the sun was still up. That was the plan, pick up some spices, and oddly enough a picture frame, Arthur had asked for it but he said it wasn't for him, probably gonna be a gift of some kind, you didn't think too much about it.

While you were making sure you're satchel was still secure, you heard a familiar voice.

“D/n?” he called from across the street.

You froze, but just for a moment, you tried climbing onto your horse as fast as you could by you were stopped by a firm grip on your shoulder. Turning, you saw him, right in front of you, your cousin, your asshole of a cousin, Damian.

“Well I'll be damned, it is you!”

Taking a breath you said, “Do I know you?”

“‘Do you’- d/n stop playing around!”

His voice was loud, loud enough to garner unwanted attention from those around you.

“I don't know no d/n sir, you've got the wrong man, now you best take your hand off me before you lose it.”

He backed off, a small apologetic yet nervous smile on his face, “sorry, you just uh, look an awful lot like my little cousin.”

Finally mounting your horse, you looked down at the man. You didn't say anything, just holding his gaze in yours for a long moment before giving him a quick nod and riding off.

You rode out of town faster than you should have, gaining various shouts and complaints from the townspeople who'd nearly stepped in your way.

As you broke out into the open road, your mind swelled with thoughts.

D/n was dead, she’d been dead a long, long time and you really didn't need reminders of her life, especially not the parts she hated.

You didn't want to hate your cousin, you just did. He was an ass and so was the rest of his family, you guess that technically included you too, but you never really felt like they were your family- even when you were little. You were different, so they treated you different. You never knew what tipped them off so early. Maybe you played with the boys too much, or you were too rough with the girls. Whatever it was, they knew before you did, they considered their daughter dead before she was, and they treated you like you killed her.

You liked being dead now, you thought you wouldn't have to worry about your family anymore, they had a whole funeral for you and everything, you figured that they'd move on, that if you did run into them, they'd take you as a ghost and nothing more. Your cousin was always an asshole though, and could never quiet get with the program, that made y'all alike in some ways, but mostly it just drew a bigger rift between you and your family. Everybody loved him, but they hated you, wasn't that funny?

You skid to a stop right outside of camp, zoning back into your surroundings just in time. Hoping off your horse, petting her for a short moment before tying her to a post.

It didn't take long for Arthur to find you, having only been in camp a couple of minutes before he spotted you. Before he even reached you, he could see the grim look on your face as you sat on your cot, glaring at the ground.

Arthur sat next to you, rubbing your back with his hand for a short moment. Arthur wasn't really a touchy person, not in front of people at least, a soothing touch on the back was as close to a kiss as you'd get with this many people around.

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for a short moment before starting back down at the ground below.

It didn't take much for him to convince you to take a ride with him, especially when he offered to let you ride his horse with him, you appreciated it, knowing that yours would have bucked you off the moment you saddled her after you nearly ran her through camp. You almost felt bad- when you climbed on the horse behind Arthur, watching him avert his gaze from anyone who looked in your direction.

He wasn't ashamed, you knew that, he was just private, didn't like it when people paid too much attention to your relationship, or you at all for that matter.

You rode together for a long while, once you figured the road was clear enough, you wrapped your arms around Arthur and rested against his back, you felt him tense, then ask if you were okay, you nodded, he relaxed after a moment, quietly continuing down the road, he knew you weren't alright, not fully, but he figured talking could wait a couple of hours.

Now you're here, you sat on a rock while Arthur set up camp, when you mumbled an offer to help, he shot it down, reassuring you it was fine.

By the time food was cooked, the sun had set completely, the fire being the only source of light.

“- I swear I just…ran into somebody today.”

You could here the faint clink of silverware against the bowl as Arthur set it to the side.

“‘Somebody’ like who?”

You sighed.

“Like my cousin, Damien, ran into him in town today.”

You weren't fully sure you told Arthur about Damien, but when you looked up at him over the fire you could see a look of annoyance on his face, so you had to at least have mentioned him and his aggravating exploits.

“It's stupid, I just… I don't know. I thought that I would never run into them again, or maybe that they wouldn't recognize me if they did. But he called that little girl's name and it just felt like my heart had stopped.”

Starting down at the dirt, you heard Arthur push himself up off the ground, the dirt crunching beneath his boots. Then he was sitting right next to you, the stone just big enough to hold two queers at once. Meeting his eyes again, you opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a long, tired sigh.

“I know, “ he said, his voice so calm and soft, a tone reserved for those that deserved it, “come here, boy..”

And you did, leaning your head on his shoulder, buried in the nook of his neck, your arms just barely around him in an effort. He wrapped his arms around you far tighter, pulling you into him, feeling your shallow breaths as the day's events replayed in your mind.

“That's it, good boy,” he muttered.

A small smile formed on your face. You hummed in contentment, squeezing him a bit tighter, forcing a small chuckle out of him.

“You liked that?” you nodded, he laughed again.

“It's helping..”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

[weebsinstash]

Hey guys! I've got good news and I've got bad news and I need your help!

So I wound up suddenly moving out of my abusive home, which is great! But unfortunately I have to manage my money real tightly and in the excitement of moving, Allister has become dangerously constipated and needs emergency vet care. Between my move and my job, I was running all over the place, and kept forgetting he was having bathroom problems, keep forgetting to buy him a laxative, and medicine for him was with my mom and she, was being difficult and hard to reach, so what has been a preventable treatable problem has now become an emergency, albeit an easily fixable one as long as I get to the vet in time, which I'm going today since he is older and we are reaching a critical window

I have to either choose between taking him to the vet and paying my November rent, but with the emergency vet having payment plans and it still being the middle of the month, I think I can squeeze it if I have a little help! I got a recent raise at my job, I'm maxing 40 hours every week, and I'm trying to look into a second job (although i would have to walk home and my area is... rough), and I can even open commissions if absolutely necessary down the line (although right now is an emergency! And also my laptop is um not working very well tbh so even commissions are a little difficult right now unless i use my phone...)

Anyways, I think I have all the money I need to take him to the vet today, but it's going to leave me short on rent by several hundred dollars, especially since I'm also paying utilities now. I know I haven't written anything solid in a while but at this point like you could donate and make a general request maybe, idk, you can DM me for more details

Allister is 11, so I know he's getting up there, but he's my best friend. I've had him since birth. I love him so much. He's all I have right now in terms of physical company and I can't lose him when I'm going through such an important transition in my life

My kofi is here if you're able to donate, and please help boost if you feel comfortable! These are unusual circumstance with me having moved into my own apartment for the very first time, and I guess I've just had too much on my plate. I would really appreciate any help or support or words of encouragement anyone can give, and keep your fingers crossed for Allister!

(I moved phone storage recently and don't have any good photos of him besides this, but listen to his happy purrs. Look at my handsome happy little man 🥺❤️)

[callofdudes]

König x Autistic Reader headcanons

Just a little disclaimer that I myself am not autistic. I'm neurdivergent but I don't struggle with most of the things that autistic people do. So please feel free to let me know if something is incorrect. Only here to spread love. ♥️

Being the colonel, König heard about you from your previous commanding officer. You were being switched to KorTac on recommendation so he didn't think any less of you when he heard you were also autistic.

Not that he would if you weren't, but you had a pretty decent record to back your few years in the military.

He had less than a week to prepare before you'd be transfered, and he wanted to be as prepared for you as possible. He'd read as much as he could, trying to take everything in.

Of course, hearing that some things were different for different autistic users was a little anxiety inducing.

When he met you out off the helicopter, you had your headphones on, taking them off slowly when you got a comfortable distance from the spinning blades.

He noticed how you took them off slowly, letting yourself adjust a little to the noise out of the headphones before hanging them around your neck.

"Ah, sergeant. My name is König." König held out his gloved hand, which you seemed a little surprised at, but on a good way. And you shook his hand, recognizing his firm grip.

"Thank you..."

"Allow me to show you around before we talk business ja?"

You nodded hesitantly, slowly following him.

Your eyes moved everywhere, taking in the new environment. It was much different. All the new smells, the sounds, the surprise of it.

König was aware you would need proper introduction to the environment. The ins and outs, a clear schedule laid out before it happened. Which is what he would prepare you with. No doubt just chucking you into work would overwhelm you. As it would anyone.

He noticed the way your thumbs continually moved over the seam of your uniform in the same motion while you took everything in.

He laid out the usual schedule, reassuring you that you wouldn't have to adhere to their schedule so strictly until you were fully integrated.

It was nice, how smooth it felt. Unlike your first transition. Being thrown into boot camp with zilch for experience you knew it would be rough. But you're glad you don't ever have to do that again.

König made sure you were aware that you could come to him if you needed anything or if you had questions. He was an open book and willing to help.

At first he was very worried about how you'd react to his mask. He didn't know if you'd be ok with it or not? Would you be put off by it? Would it reassure you with so little detail on his face, not being able to see him.

But from how you reacted, clearly your first impressions of his gentle nature won you over instead of his daunting height and scary exterior.

You had been worried in the beginning that König was going to be like everyone else. But he was actually very gentle. He was quieter, unlike your previous superiors who seemed to be into yelling just because they could.

And König was gentle with you. Not like when you were first brought into the military. Now, to be fair, you had joined the military and they wanted soldiers one way or another. You hadn't expected to be pampered right out of the gate. But he approached you in a way that settled you in.

König was usually very aware of what he was doing, because of his height and his position, every move was in his thoughts. And with you that was no different.

"Hey... Y/n, I know the canteen is pretty busy today, so I figured I'd just bring you a plate here." He smiles a little under the hood, wondering if you'd appreciate the gesture or get mad at him because you thought he was treating you as weak.

To his relief, you smiled softly. "Oh, König-" you pause when you saw the plate. König had always noticed you much preferred some food over others, and you always organized them in specific ways. And it was just like that, your plate perfect to your autistic eye.

You wouldn't have to spend ten minutes of precious food time reordering and sorting.

"Thank you König, thank you."

König always did his best to help you. But of course, there was only so much he could do to help. Even in simple training, you were sometimes allowed to have your headphones on, but there was always that time when you weren't.

When könig would clearly see you getting overwhelmed from smells, sounds, and strenuous activity you were faced with.

König is always an extended arm, but was nervous to help you if you didn't want it. So when you showed up in his office, clearly something wrong he wasn't sure what to do.

You just stood in the doorway, clutching the hem of your shirt, your throat feeling tight. You couldn't move, just on the brink of completely exploding in tears.

König slowly stood, approaching you gently. "Y/n..?" He reached out to touch you, slowly, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted. But you didn't. His hand touching your cheek, cupping your face.

"You're doing amazing..."

Tears fell down your cheeks and you whimpered, leaning against him. He gently wrapping his other arm around you. Warming you, slowly rubbing your back in consistent circles.

"I'm here. I'm here y/n."

König soon became used to knowing every little motion to you. Your hands tensing, trying to stim with them, struggling with verbal communication in stressful situations, or at all. Getting the words in your head out verbally usually a struggle.

Whenever you needed him, he'd be there. On missions when stuck in a stake out, he would give you his backpack that hopefully it would provide enough weight when he took watch; so you could sleep with minimal anxiety.

But König knew, and he was patient.

König who let's you stim with the Velcro straps on his gear and uniform whenever you needed it.

You two were sitting in the cargo plane, könig could feel you staring into him. Your hand moved a little, and he looked at you. "Y/n??"

"König... Can I..?" You reached your hand for his belt, and he understood. Pulling the Velcro from his belt and moving it to your hand. "Yeah, go ahead."

You nod, pushing the Velcro apart and then slowly pulling it open. Listening to the sound and the slow tear. And the patch on his bicep, listening to it slowly peal apart and then sticking it evenly back on.

König sat there still, letting you stim. "Feeling a bit better?"

You nod a little. "Yeah... Thank you."

He hums, smiling softly. He let's you play with the Velcro for the remainder of the flight, not minding you gently stimming with his gear. It's calming for him in a way as well.

When you were on base, you one time asked for him to lay on you, and he was genuinely afraid he'd hurt you.

"Y/n... I believe I am a tad too heavy. I can get you something else-?"

"No König. Crush me. Crush me like my soul... Suffocate me into happiness.."

"Woah... Alright then."

You laid on your back with your arms flat open invitingly. And so König laid across you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his palms up between your shoulder blades.

You sighed happily as he squeezed the oxygen out of you, pushing you down into the blanket. He was warm, his smell was familiar.

"Perfect..."

König who asks if you have any favorite scents from back home, or any in general. The ones he likes he gets you scented candles so you can put them in your office and room for comfort.

König who buys you a white noise machine and sends you audio files of crickets and whales.

And your hyperfixations. Oh König loves them. He loves listening to you talking his ear off. He doesn't talk a whole lot and enjoys the silence, so having you who dominates the conversation, but not in a way where he feels overstepped or ignored. It's nice.

He loves hearing about all the lore and the background for your liking said thing.

And he even decided to try sharing an interest of his to you. Nature documentaries! König was happy when you gave it a try. If you can sit still through all of it, great! If you can't, he'll probably dig out a fidget toy or grabs something nearly you can use.

Gets rubix cubes from Horangi to see if you like it and want it. Found out what a fidget spinner is and got you one too.

When you told him you were nervous of what the others would think of you carrying one around base, König made the bold decision to carry one too. "Hey, how about we both carry one? So then you're not alone, and they won't think you're weird!"

König is very protective of him. You're like his kid! But in a cool way, not a demeaning way. He wants to take care of you and protect you as best he can. He wants you to know he's got your back.

He's there when you need someone to lay on, or to be laid on. He's there when you need someone who will just cup your ears and tell you to focus on him.

He's there when you need someone to wipe those tears and hold you close to a warm, welcoming body of a close friend.

Because he's your friend, and he cares so much for you. He's definitely still learning, and still trying, but damn it if he wouldn't do anything it takes for you.

[atriza]

The Broken Mask pt. 6 Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader

Part 5

Summary: Y/N navigates the increasingly dangerous and manipulative relationship with Five. After enduring physical restraint, they appear to submit to his control, feigning obedience to avoid further harm. Five’s obsession deepens as he believes he has broken the protagonist’s will, transitioning from cruelty to a twisted form of tenderness. He allows them more freedom, trusting that they have accepted their place under his control. However, the protagonist remains determined to escape, carefully hiding their true thoughts and emotions behind a perfect mask of submission. As Five becomes more possessive, offering "rewards" for their obedience, the protagonist plays along, knowing that their chance for freedom is coming. They continue to play the dangerous game of survival, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Word Count:1,116 words

**Content Warning:**

This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.

If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story.

Have Fun Reading!

The cold bite of the metal cuffs still haunted your wrists, though they had been released hours ago. Your skin was raw and tender, a constant reminder of Five’s control, his obsession. The silence between you was thick and suffocating as he loomed over you,  watching with calculating eyes. His gaze lingered in your wrists, then traveled up to meet yours, dark and unreadable.

"See?" He murmured, his voice soft but laced with quiet menace.  "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You forced yourself to remain still, not flinching as he reached for your wrists  again, rubbing his thumbs over the red, bruised skin. His touch once rough and demanding,  now held a gentleness that felt wrong. The lines between his lobe and his cruelty blurred,  twisted into something incomprehensible.

"No," you whispered, lowering your head, keeping your voice submissive. " It wasn’t."

Five tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.  His eyes searched your face, looking for any trace of defiance.  Bur yiu had become an expert at hiding it. Every ounce of resistance was buried deep, hidden behind a mask of obedience.  You had to play this carefully.

"You’ve learned, haven't you?" He asked, his voice deceptively soft. "You understand your place now."

You nodded slowly; allowing your lips to

quirk into a small, broken smile.

'I do. I'm sorry for defying you."

His lips curved into a satisfied smile,

and his grip on your chin softened.

"Good. Because I don't want to hurt

you, Y/N. But

will, if you force me to"

"I won't"  you promised, your heart

pounding in your chest. "I've learned my

lesson"

Five's fingers loosened around your

wrist, and he finally let go, stepping

back to admire his work. The cuffs lay

discarded on the floor, but the invisible

chains that bound you to him were

stronger than ever. He believed he had

broken you, that you had surrendered to

his control

And that belief was your

greatest weapon.

He let out a soft sigh, brushing his hand

through his disheveled hair. "You’ve

been good today," he murmured, almost

to himself. His eyes drifted to the table,

where an untouched meal sat cold.

"You didn't eat earlier. You should eat."

You glanced at the food and nodded

slowly. "I wasn’t hungry, but I’Il eat now."

He watched as you made your way to

the table, his sharp gaze following your

every movement. You sat down

carefully, your hands trembling slightly

as you picked up the fork. Every bite

felt like swallowing sand, but you

forced yourself to chew, to play the role

you had crafted.

Five walked behind you, his hands

resting on your shoulders. The weight

of his presence pressed down on you,

suffocating and inescapable. He bent

down, his lips brushing against your ear

as he whispered "Im proud of you, Y/N."

The words sent a chill down your spine,

and you suppressed the urge to

shudder under his touch. "Thank you,"

you whispered, pushing another forkful

of food into your mouth.

He lingered for a moment longer before

straightening up, stepping away from

you. You heard the soft creak of the

floorboards as he moved across the

room, giving you space but never truly

leaving. His eyes were still on you,

watching every breath, every

movement, making sure that his control

over you was complete.

You took a deep breath, fighting the

urge to scream, to push the plate away

and run. But you knew that escape

wasn’t an option-not yet. Not until he

was completely convinced that you

were broken.

The next few days were crucial.

As you continued to eat in silence, Five

leaned against the wall, his arms

crossed over his chest. "You’re doing

well, but I think you still need more

time. We need to rebuild trust."

You nodded quickly, swallowing the

lump in your throat. "I understand."

He gave you a small, approving smile.

"Good. I'm glad we’re on the same

page."

Days passed, each one blending into

the next. You played your part

flawlessiy-obedient, quiet, never

pushing back. You let him hold you,

touch you, kiss you. His

possessiveness grew, and with it, a

twisted sense of tenderness. He

believed you had surrendered completely, that you were his and his alone.

Every night, he held you close, whispering dark promises in your ear as you lay beside him, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. And every night, you lay still, your heart racing with fear and determination.

"Y/N," he whispered one night, his voice soft in the darkness. "I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone the way | love you."

You swallowed hard, your voice small as you replied, "I love you too, Five."

He pulled you closer, his breath warm against your neck. "Do you really mean that?” His tone was almost vulnerable, a rare crack in his otherwise unyielding control.

"Of course,’ you whispered, forcing your voice to remain steady. "I’m yours. No one else matters.”

His grip tightened slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might doubt you. But then, he sighed contentedly and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "Good girl."

The words made your skin crawl, but you kept your breathing even, your body relaxed against him. You were playing a dangerous game, but it was working. Slowly but surely, Five was beginning to trust you again.

Weeks passed, and your routine became almost normal. Five no longer locked you in the room. You had earned small freedoms—allowed to roam the house under his watchful eye, to sit in the garden with him, to talk to him without fear of punishment. But you were always aware of the invisible cage around you, the constant reminder that one wrong move would bring it all crashing down.

One evening, as you both sat on the couch, Five's hand resting possessively on your thigh, he turned to you with a thoughtful look.

"You've been good, Y/N," he said softly, his eyes flicking over your face. "I think you've finally accepted your place.’

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "I have."

His fingers tightened on your thigh, a dark gleam in his eyes. "You're mine. Forever."

"Forever,’ you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Five’s smile was slow, predatory, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I think it’s time for your reward."

You felt a chill run down your spine as his words hung in the air, thick with dangerous intent. "My reward?"

He nodded, his hand sliding higher up your thigh. "You've been so good for me. | think you deserve something special."

He nodded, his hand sliding higher up your thigh. "You've been so good for me. | think you deserve something special."

Your heart raced as his hand trailed over your skin, his touch possessive and unrelenting. You knew what was coming, and you steeled yourself for it. This was part of the plan. You had to keep him convinced. You had to let him believe that you were his completely. "Let me show you how much | appreciate your obedience,’ he murmured, his lips ghosting over your neck as he pressed you down onto the couch.

You swallowed hard, your body tense beneath him as he hovered over you, his eyes dark with possessive hunger. This was the moment you had prepared for, the moment where you had to give in—at least for now.

And so, you did. You let him claim you, let him take what he wanted, his touch rough and demanding as he reminded you, again and again, that you were his.

But even as your body obeyed, your mind remained focused, cold, calculating.

Because while Five believed he had broken you, you knew the truth.

The mask you wore was flawless, and soon, very soon, you would be free.

You just had to wait for the right moment.

[mused-like-roses]

~ 1,000 followers ~

// Due to the length, it'll be under a read-more

I remember starting my RPing journey back in... 2014-2015 on this little place called Miiverse. It was the most inconvenient place to start RPing, but we all had to start somewhere. and boy did I had to start somewhere; I didn't know much on the whole RPing shtick, using mostly the script style of RPing (e.g. Ruby: dialogue *actions*), threads didn't go anywhere much, and Miiverse had the problem of rarely having RPers thanks to it's "30 posts a day" limit. I hung around for almost a good year I believe until it was time for Miiverse to slowly die out and close it's door.

It was around it's dying years I stumbled further into the internet's other corners. Places like Deviantart and whatnot... and then there was this little place called Tumblr. My curiosity piqued due to knowing a really really REALLY old mutual back on Miiverse and to an extent Deviantart. My start was awfully ROUGH. I didn't know anything about Tumblr and how it rolled; icons, PFPs, writing, etc. I didn't even start RPing until like... around 2016-2017 maybe? It was slightly better than MV, but it was still a bumpy ride. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have fun learning the ropes.

My start in the platform was rough to say the least; icons weren't used all that much, I didn't really get all semi-lit - literate like I am today, hell I didn't know jack about trimming my posts! but it didn't stop me from trucking on. I slowly but surely learned the ropes, made a small group of friends, met my first love slowly turned toxic bitch of an ex-GF on here, it was going slow but smoothly. Then around the '17 - '18 period, I started fresh with all the experience in hand. Said years rolled around and I slowly transitioned over to Discord as well, making another slew of friends over there as well.

And that was when things kicked off; I was RPing like it was a casual past time of mine, made many of friends, many of foes, but most importantly I was having fun. And then 2022 came around... my self-promo came to be, and I locked in to take my hobby more serious. Now look at how it started vs. how it's going: I started out knowing nothing about RPing, I ended with years of experience under my belt and many mutuals, and with many mutuals eventually came 1,000 followers. I never thought I'd get this far into my life, let alone the RPC, but here we are. And it wouldn't have been possible without some close mutuals I know and like to give a shout-out to:

@astral-multiverse ~ I'm getting the elephant out of the room with the one I've been by their side the most since day one. What started with small interactions here and there slowly turned into full blown long-term RPs broken up by smaller RPs. We made so many ships with your OC (whom I'll say it before and say it again, is one of my faves in the RPC), and OOC you're a blessed bean that I can go to anytime for anything be it nerding out for venting. Thank you so much for being by my side 'til death does us apart, and here's to many more RPs.

@the-expatriate ~ Much like Astral above, we had tiny interactions here and there. But good gracious you are one of the most blessed muns I've had the pleasures of interacting with. Your OC is AMAZING, we were like twins nerding out about music and similar tastes in games/shows, but most importantly you knew me so well with my Autism and was always there to speak to me when needed. I gotta give you the same amount of thanks for being around this long, couldn't have done it without you.

@grayfxce ~ You are literally the SMG4 of the RPC. What started out as a silly concept of roleplaying as the titular anon soon turned into something huge; you fleshed Gray out into an OC that would fit in any place, anywhere. And boy did we nerd out about similar tastes and shitposted like there was no tomorrow! You're one of the many whose company I've enjoyed greatly, and I hope to RP with you again.

@historias-multorum ~ One of my more recent mutuals I had stumbled across after being followed by them... I made the best call I could ever make when I followed back and started interacting. Your portrayals are spot-on, and you're so understanding and to the point in and out of RPing. And shipping with you is always a treat, especially Sasuten! Thank you for being by my side, I greatly appreciate RPing and speaking with you and hope to continue this train.

@musecheerios ~ Also another recent mutual I've began to interact with, and also another call that I've made that was worth it. Our interactions have been amazing so far, both IC and OOC. You're the literal definition of "Soft Baby Hell" and will not take shit with anyone, something I can appreciate in a mun. Talking with you has been amazing, and I hope to interact more with you!

Honorable mentions for muns I've interacted with and/or yearn to interact with more: @on-dragons-wings, @divinityunleashed, @chronicparagon, @whiskeysmulti, @reddawnmultimuse, @dragvnsovl, @mz-pixie (also an old mutual of mine!), @hxroic-wxlls-rxborn, @samayo-tamashi, @wildxcardrebel, @flamesignite

Thank you all so much for being stuck with this anxiety-induce otaku of a mun, and here's to many more with you guys.

~ May your heart be your guiding key ~

[allatariel]

WIP Wednesday!

@gordopickett tagged me earlier this week—thank you <3—and I planned to do it today and then of course forgot until the evening. I should have just done it and scheduled it to post today, but I had hoped to work more on Love at the Drafting Table and post that. Alas—I talk about a project and then life conspires to keep me from working on it!

Instead, below is an older, very rough snippet from another languishing, unfinished WIP, The Calculus of Grief, written at the end of April.

Tagging: @madamairlock, @littlelindentree, @caitylove, @shu-of-the-wind, @fireandsoup

More tags (split to work around broken tumblr tagging): @imsfire2, @cryscal, @air-mechanical, @youreorangeyoumoron, @wanderleave

And anyone else who might want to <3

Though the school year had barely just begun, it was actually still a month out from the second anniversary of Sergei’s first day teaching at Spiro T. Agnew High School. October 1, 1995 felt like a lifetime ago. To be honest, he tried to think about the time before as little as possible. But today was a different anniversary: September 4. Today it was harder than most days to ignore the gaping hole in the center of his life. Two years ago today he and his family had landed in Germany. After an hour of debriefing and setting the wheels in motion, of letting hope run wild and selecting a name to bear during their transition, he had called Margo from his hotel room. He had been overjoyed to see her, and when he hung up, his mother had joined him from the adjoining room where his father slept, with his sisters and their families resting safely down the hall. She had asked him about this woman who had saved him, who so clearly held the heart of her firstborn, her only son. So, Sergei had told her their story. For the first time in his life, he was free to tell his mother about the woman he had been in love with for well over ten years. Hours later, when the news reached them, she had pulled him sobbing into her arms as she had when he was small, before the births of his sisters. That was the only time he had given into the despair of losing her. He was trying to live, to stay safe as she had told him. To keep his family safe. And the only way he could manage to do that, to go on, was to leave it all behind. But then just last night he had seen on the news that the Sojourner 1 astronauts and Mars-94 cosmonauts had finally returned to Earth. After their nearly two year ordeal, the world joined in their joy and relief as the survivors were reunited with their loved ones. Sergei had watched Rolan Baranov, the cosmonaut turned astronaut—a defector like himself—be reunited with his American wife and son. His wife who had survived the bombing of JSC. Unlike Margo. Sergei honestly wasn’t sure how he’d made it into work at all. “Mr. Bezukhov?” Principal Alice Nikolsky—not Nikolskaya—called as she knocked on the door of the classroom. “We have a new student for your homeroom. She’s just transferred up from Huntsville, Alabama.” A young girl stepped into the doorway, her pale orange hair falling around wire rim glasses and shadowing her pale freckled face. She looked up, her blue eyes so like his mother’s, his own catching him already off guard as Alice introduced her, “Madison Morgan.”  Seryozha, if you do not let yourself mourn her, she will haunt you forever. His mother’s plea rose in his mind as he took in this child, bouncing nervously on balls of her feet. In another life they could have had a daughter who looked like this girl.