#but I wanted to find out more about what happens between phase I and II!!
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Questions I still have after Phase II:
How did the Leveler end up frozen on that ice planet?
How does the rhyme that Azlin came up with when he was having a mental breakdown become so widespread by Phase I?
WHAT is going on with the ecosystem on Planet X?
Who created the breakaway sect of Elders of the Path on Trymant IV?
If the Rod of Seasons originally belonged to the Hynestian royal family, is it a coincidence that it controls the Levler or was it made to do that?
How do the events of Path of Vengeance and Cataclysm get so twisted by that it creates this narrative that on one side the Dalnans think they failed the Jedi and on the other Marchion thinks the Jedi did horrible things to his family?
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hotdaemondtargaryen · 7 months ago
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TOM GLYNN-CARNEY TALKING ABOUT KING AEGON II TARGARYEN FOR MAGAZINE UPROXX.
AEGON IS EQUAL PARTS DANGEROUS AND PATHETIC THIS SEASON. WHICH TRAIT DID YOU LEAN INTO MORE?
"I really wanted to find every color possible to his palette."
"I wanted to make him as intricate and as complex as he deserves, I think."
"And yeah, we see lots of different flavors."
"We see a vulnerability to him this time."
"We see desperation."
"I think people can call him a villain as much as they want."
"I think he thinks he’s a tragedy — just a desperately sad story in a physical form."
THERE ARE SO MANY AEMOND APOLOGISTS, BUT WHO'S REPPING FOR AEGON?
"This has been the story his entire life."
"He’s seen as weak, he’s seen as pathetic."
"Just someone give him a hug for crying out loud!"
AEGON CERTAINTLY HAS A BIGGER ROLE TO PLAY THIS SEASON WHICH REQUIRES MORE FROM YOU THAN IN SEASON ONE. WERE THERE ANY SCENES/MOMENTS YOU WERE UNSURE ABOUT TRANSLATING FROM THE SCRIPT TO THE SCREEN?
"Every scene I did, I didn’t know how it was going to pan out, and that’s kind of the way I like to go about playing Aegon."
"There’s no part of me that wants to have a preconceived idea of how the scene’s going to play."
"It lends itself to the way he is personality wise."
"He’s very impulsive."
"He doesn’t think things through very much, and I always like to catch myself off guard and surprise myself in those scenes."
"For me, that’s how I find authenticity in a moment."
"And that just means it’s different every time, and they can just choose which one they like."
"I don’t deal with the cut."
THERE'S A TRANSFER OF POWER BETWEEN AEGON AND OTTO IN EPISODE TWO. HOW IMPORTANT WAS THAT CONFRONTATION IN TERMS OF THE REST OF THE SEASON?
"Massive."
"We start to see ’em pull back the reins."
"We start to see ’em take a bit of control and use his authority and put people in their place when they need to be put in their place."
"He finds it stimulating."
YOU FINALLY GET TO RIDE A DRAGON THIS SEASON. DID YOU GET ANY TIPS FROM YOUR CASTMATES WHO'VE DONE IT ALREADY?
"It was actually, surprisingly straightforward."
"If you’re doing a full day up there, then yeah, you’re going to be tired."
"We had a lot of sort of strengthening and conditioning work that we’d keep doing, just so we had a pretty healthy baseline in terms of our physical strength and capabilities."
IF YOU COULD PLAY AEGON'S THERAPIST FOR A DAY WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE HIM?
"Be patient with himself."
"Stop comparing."
"Stop being jealous."
"Give yourself a break and go on holiday."
SO MUCH HAPPENED OFF SCREEN BETWEEN SEASONS ONE ANE TWO. IT TOOK YEARS TO FILM. THERE WERE STRIKES. HOW DID THAT EFFECT THE CAST AND THE VIBES ON SET.
"Yeah, you’ve got tunnel vision while you’re making this show and that’s how we like it."
"I think you sort of buckle down and stay in the zone and stay focused."
"Try and get as much sleep as you can."
"It takes its toll, but we all welcome that with open arms."
"It’s one of those kinds of once in a lifetime opportunities to be a part of a show like this and to play characters like these."
"We’re all very aware of that, and we’re all very grateful to be in the position we’re in, getting to bring these characters to life and share this fucking cool story with so many lovely fans."
IS THERE A LESSON YOU'RE LEARNED FROM FILMING THIS SEASON THAT YOU'LL TAKE WITH YOU INTO THE NEX PHASE OF YOUR CAREER?
"That’s a good question."
"I’m kind of still working that out."
"I’ve only been doing this [acting] for, well, eight years, really, so I’ve not had a great deal of experience."
"I feel like the responsibility to play a pivotal part in a project like this takes its toll, stamina wise, and you just need to make sure that you can keep up with the rhythm of everything."
"But I think taking your breaks where you can get them, surrounding yourself with people you love and trust as you’re doing it, you can be quite delicate in the process."
"And yeah, stay away from social media."
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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 16 days ago
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Pineyyyyy,
I'm asking for the masses: please bless us with your writing process! How do you perfect these wonderful fics?
Thank you so much for asking Zae! 💞
As my writing process is a little chaotic and not very disciplined, I'll try to gather some advice and a rough timeline of what I do and how!
I think you'll already know most of those tips Zae, considering how incredible your writing already is! I hope this will still be helpful! Also forgive me because this is going to be long and detailed (I'm hopeless).
To everyone reading this, please keep in mind that I do not claim to have a perfect recipe for writing things that will make everything absolutely incredible (first of all, I do not think my work is perfect—far from it—and it's important for you that your writing process stays fun and comfortable!). This list is about things that work for me, but you have to find what works for you!!
NON-WRITING STUFF
Before writing: I love to set myself in the mood. As I don't have much free time my dedicated writing time has become a sort of sacred moment and I have my rituals (I put up the holy combo music+a good teapot of tea+Frankincense)
Music is a HUGE part of my writing process. As you and the amazing @/redwritr have already told me (thanks again both of you this is the best compliment ever<3), my writing sounds like music and I think this is also why. (Typical example for Fantasies II: I listened to Mother Mother's - "Body" in a loop to write the desperation moment. Maybe it's just me being too suggestible, but the pace and tone of a music piece totally guide me while writing).
I use Google Docs (on dark mode lol) to write, always. I know it's not super original and I regret not being able to put a nice background or typing sounds like ZenWriter allows you to for example, but it is the most convenient for me because I can carry my WIPs everywhere through my phone or laptop (plus it has the autosave, thinking about your writing curse LMAO).
THE WRITING ITSELF - what I do very factually and in what order.
I start by writing absolutely ANYTHING that comes through my mind, even if it's very shitty or doesn't make sense. Really, anything, no filter, just pure creative torrent flooding through my brain. Most of the time, I never publish the fic like this, it's purely to keep me motivated and to let ideas flow from my brain, otherwise they just don't want to appear. It's more difficult for me to find good ideas/work the flow of what's happening if I have to stop every two minutes and reflect on what I've done. I never correct my spelling at this point either and sometimes even leave words or bits of sentences in French lol. It must be spontaneous and wild.
I usually have the main ideas somewhere written on a note and new ideas are added between them as I write.
Once this draft is finished, I have the rough lines of what's happening and the different parts of the fic, and it's time for what I like to call the "Ripening" phase (yes I'm French ofc I'm using cheese/wine metaphors for my work lmaoo). Basically, I re-read the draft a LOT of times and focus on parts that seem odd/are not well written enough to my liking.
During that phase, I do a lot of research. I like to search for lexical fields, synonyms, original or uncommon words. I use Notion to organize links of all the website/Tumblr pages that I like for discovering vocab. I visit almost every time @/literaryvein-reblogs; their blog is a pure goldmine! (let me know if you want me to share some resources).
With this newly acquired vocab, I like to go for alliteration/assonance. I often replace words I had written during the spontaneous phase with new vocab words that simply sound better together. I also try out different versions of my metaphors and keep what feels better or what is the more telling/meaningful/simply more pleasant to read.
Once all this is finished, I always take the time to re-read the whole thing in one go, trying to step back and put myself as a reader. I often end up deleting parts that seem too long or not essential enough from fear of boring you guys. I think this is purely personal, you writers know what you really want to keep or not in your writing.
So basically that's what's happening: 1. Pure chaotic writing session where I let myself be wild and write nonsense 2. Ripening phase (sorting out the good from the horribly bad from the first phase, vocab, deleting or changing parts, trying out different words and figures of speech, sometimes re-writing whole paragraphs). This phase might be the longest actually. 3. Final reading in one time and last details before publishing.
INSPIRATION AND WRITING STYLE - Getting the pretty picture out of your brain!
I know it feels difficult to put exactly what's on your mind to paper, and sadly just like while painting/drawing, imo you can never reproduce EXACTLY what you see in your brain into a physical object. You can only approach this vision as best you can! Here's what works for me.
I always try to immerse myself completely in the setting; where are the characters, what mindest do they have in this moment, what is surrounding them?
Use the five senses, this is something I do almost systematically. Sight is the most used ofc, but smell and hearing are also ultra important to me. Touch and taste also are central, especially during smut. They help bring words to life!
Don't be afraid to describe a lot; this is important to get closer to what you're picturing and putting the same image in your reader's mind.
Now, this isn't a secret to anyone, my favorite tools are metaphors and comparisons + allegories when I'm good enough to find one. To me they are the best way you can explain to readers what the thing you're picturing is close to without having to factually describe every little detail of it; or how a character feels without being too obvious.
(This is a personal preference of mine. You have to find figures of speech that feels natural and good to you, that you like reading and writing!)
Read. Reading books, poems, other people's fics, and listening to songs and their lyrics are imo the best things you can do to nourish your own writing. We're social animals; a brilliant idea may spontaneously appear from nowhere in one's head but 99% of the time it's from discovering others that your writing style will be refined and perfected (identifying what you like/don't, why you're particularly in awe of a specific sentence or particularly attracted to certain types of phrasing without trying to copy/paste the thing is the way to go)
Be curious! Inspiration also comes from anywhere; go to museums, watch movies, go take a walk in nature, really let yourself be filled with all types of art and information. I use a notebook and my phone to note random things that I see or hear that gives me a sort of "inspiration potential".
e.g: I broke a match trying to light up a candle once. Completely banal and forgettable event. Well, it ended up being a comparison for a wasted potential in Through My Eyes. Yes, the notebook is flooded with random things I probably will never use, but this is also a good way to stay open and receptive to little things around you that can inspire you.
The "show don't tell" technique, as in cinematography is a pretty difficult balance to find but is really efficient to get people interested without offering them obvious things on a golden platter, and I personally love it. Here, here, and here (symptoms and afflictions method) are some more resources!
CONCLUSION AND FINAL ADVICE
As I already said, this is what works for me! You have to find what does for you and always remember to have fun! I know it might sound weird but most of my writing process is spontaneous and words just flow "naturally" out of me most of the time, so I don't really know how to explain things clearly (sorry about that :/)
ALSO your writing takes the time it needs and it's no one else's business!!!
As you can see, my drafts in perpetual change; it's totally fine not to write the perfect fic in one go! Don't be afraid to re-write and change things as many time as you want! (I honestly think I have to stop myself from reading my works because even now after publishing, I would still be changing things!)
Never ever put pressure on yourself while writing, this must not be a source of negative emotions (this goes for writer's block too, everyone has been through it, and you should not feel bad for it!)
The most important thing is for you to try! Try different styles, and different settings, try to get interested in new stuff even if it's not your usual medium. Always be curious!
And for my fellows non-English natives, try to use Grammarly to check your grammar and spelling, WordReference to check for translations/meanings, and DeepL instead of Google's translator!
Here, I think I'm finally done! Sorry it was that long, I hope I could help you Zae, and bring you guys some useful advice! As always, take care, and have fun writing!
-Pine 🌱
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towriteloveontheirarms · 1 year ago
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I know this is a bit.. dark I suppose, so dont feel like you have to. But could you write Modern!gamer Aegon trying to figure out how to help his s/o that has self harm issues? It can include smut but it doesn't have to:)
It is a bit dark, but thank you for the request nonnie. As someone who has suffered from this themselves before it helped to write about it. I hope you are doing good or are getting the help you need.<3
It will get better again
pairing: modern!gamer!Aegon II Targaryen x reader
synopsis: Aegon finds out about you self-harming and is determined to help you.
warnings: hurt/comfort, descriptions of self-harm, mentions of unhealthy familial bonds, talk about mental health and getting help
word count: 1.4k
a/n: This contains some serious dark themes, so if you feel like you aren´t in the right mental space to read, please skip for your own safety. If you are ccurrently dealing with self-harming behavior, thoughts of self-harm or even suicidal ideation, please please please look for help. You are important and deserve to get better!
You hear Aegon scream at the console in the living room. A daily occurrence ever since the two of you moved in together, alerting you that he was playing CoD with the Cargyll twins again. Yet the sound quickly fades into the background as you dig your nails into your upper thighs. Scratching at the skin until you see red drops of blood run down the smooth skin. You don´t even feel the burning pain in your limbs  anymore, only the numbness that spreads through your body as you watch the ruby colored liquid drop down to the pristine, white tiles. It looks so pretty, that you fully concentrate on the sight.
You don´t know how long you sit there, but eventually an urgent knocking at the door pulls you from your thoughts. Scrambling to your feet you try to clean up as fast as possible, before you open the door. Aegon rushes past you and so your behavior goes unnoticed once more. Well, at least until that night.
The two of you lie in bed and his hand ventures down to your thighs, running over them lightly as his kisses wander down your neck. When he touches the still sore flesh, you can't hold back sucking in the air through clenched teeth.
“Are you okay?” He asks between kisses.
“Yeah. It´s nothing.” You whisper back, but avert your eyes from him.
Of course Aegon catches that and immediately stop what he is doing.
Sitting up and gently taking your hands in his, his eyes search yours for the truth. It wouldn´t be the first time of you hitting a depressive phase while being with him. Yet the thought of it alone is filled with so much shame. Too much to admit it directly. You just didn´t want him to blame himself.
While you try to find an answer Aegon turns on the light beside you, to reveal the still fresh wounds along with multiple scarred ones.
“Doll… was that all… you?” His voice is cautious and you can hear the hurt drip from it.
The nod that you are able to give as an answer is barely discernible. “I´m sorry….”
“No! No, don´t apologize for that. Just… Why did you do it?” He tries to stay calm, but by the way his leg starts to bounce you can tell that he is anything but.
“I don´t know. It´s just all too much sometimes.”
“Too much?”
“Too many feelings. And then I can´t think straight and then… I don´t mean to do it. I swear.” Memories of sitting in your families living room while your mother screams at you for harming yourself flood back into your mind. Pushing tears to cling at your lower lash line. However you could never put into words, how glad you are that Aegon tries to find a way to get to the bottom of this. That he doesn´t close his eyes to it.
“I know. Shhh, I know you didn´t mean to. It just happens sometimes, but this can´t go on. Okay? You can´t keep hurting yourself.” His hug is so warm and so tight that there is nothing left but to let go of the tears. Through the shaking of your body and the droning in your head, his voice still faintly rings through to you, with soothing sounds and words. All the while his hand rubs soothing circles on your back.
“It´s okay. I know it can get too much. I´m here for you. Just let it all out.” He continues to soothe you until there are no tears left inside of you.
“I´m so sorry.” You apologize again, feeling like no matter how often you did, it would never be enough.
“Hey, you don´t need to apologize. Let´s just go to sleep and tomorrow we can talk about it in peace, alright?” Your eyelids get heavy even before Aegon has finished speaking.
You nod in answer once more. Unable to speak from exhaustion the two of you cuddle close and soon later you drift off into a restless sleep.
The next morning you wake up in bed alone. From across the hallway you can smell Aegon making breakfast and hear him talking on the phone with someone. You don´t feel like you have enough strength to walk or even stand up, so you simply wait for him to come back, which he does only  a half hour later. A cup of your favorite tea in one hand and his phone in the other.
“You´re up, That´s good. I, um…  just talked to Helaena. Figured that might be better than going into a rabbit hole on the internet.” He puts the tea down on the bedside table and crawls back under the blanket beside you. “Are you okay to talk about what happened yesterday?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is still rough and so you take a deep sip of the tea.
“I want you to know that I love you no matter what, okay? And I want to help you in any way I can, because you deserve to get all the help you need. We can get through this together.” It´s visible that his sister has told him a lot. Which in this moment you are greatful for as his calm energy keeps you calm as well.
“I love you too, Egg. I´m so sorry to bring you into this shit show. This is not your problem to fix…”
“Listen here, doll.” He lays a hand under your chin to make you look into his eyes. Where you are met with worry, but also an overwhelming amount of compassion. “We can do this. Together.”
“I don´t even know what to do…” You whisper into his chest. Relaxing a bit more as his other hand draws small circles on your arm.
“That´s fine. We can figure that out.” Aegon kisses the crown of your head. “Helaena even offered to help with looking for therapy if you are okay with that. Plus side  of the job she said.”
You feel his chest vibrate with a low chuckle under your cheek.
“Yeah, I think going back to therapy is a good idea.” For the first time you don´t feel the overwhelming urge to apologize to him, but instead “Thank you, for being there for me. I know this isn´t exactly what you pictured when you asked me out.”
“So, what? We all have messy phases in your life, but we can move past them.”
Together you spend the rest of the morning in bed, just breathing and existing by each other’s side. It´s so nice to know that he is there for you. That he even called his sister for you, when they barely even talked anymore.
In the afternoon he gives you some space, opting to go to the living room to hop on the console. You are glad that he does. He deserves to take his mind off your problems.
In the afternoon you feel like you have enough strength to stand up for the first time, so you use it to make yourself and Aegon a snack. When you bring it to him however you see that he isn´t playing any games as usual, instead he is talking to his friends while looking something up on his phone.
With a soft tap to his shoulder you make your presence known. “Hey, I made a snack.” You whisper as to not interrupt anything.
“Hey, come here for a moment.” He takes his headphones off and pulls you close.
“What´s up?” You ask slightly unsure as to what he was gonna say next.
“I did some more research.” He rubs his neck. “And I found this forum of people sharing what they did to redirect their thoughts of you know… whatever they did to harm themselves.”
“Oh?” His openness and willingness to help surprises you.
“If you are willing to try of course. I don´t want to jump anything on you.”
“Y-yeah, sure.”
Aegon face lights up ever so slightly at your affirmative answer. Telling you about all the stuff he found and while it feels quite paralyzing to take all the information in, you can find one way or another that might be able to redirect your thoughts.
“I-I don´t know what to say…”
“That´s okay. Maybe you can start by trying out one thing next time you feel yourself slipping.”
“Yes, I can do that.” You nod.
“I´m so proud of you for being so open to all of this. I know it must be a lot, but you can do this. I love you, doll” He kisses your cheek softly.
“I love you too. More than you could ever imagine.” You sigh. There still is a remnant of the cold numbness inside of your gut, but it is getting chased away by the warmth that only Aegon could provide.
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altneuland · 1 year ago
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so, I think it is time to reveal my favorite ship for Daniel. I ship him with Alfred, and the Alfred I use is a modified version of the canon.
I will not go into my reasoning of why I ship them, you can always ask me about it or look it up yourself. I will go now to their lore and history as a couple (briefly, you can always ask me if you have more questions).
🇮🇱 AmeIsra: More than allies 🇺🇸
act i.
When Daniel was still a wanderer, trying to find a way to gather money so he could finance his plan to get back home to Zion. That’s when he first met Alfred. Alfred offered him a job and he accepted. Daniel worked for  Alfred for a while before coming back to Europe. 
When Daniel worked in the states, he told Alfred everything about what he wants, his home, etc.  Alfred was overwhelmed with this, and first decided not to intervene. 
Later, the independence war started in Israel and as Alfred decided to, he didn’t intervered. But that didn’t last for long. He got notified about the situation and he then couldn’t stay out of it. Only then he secretly helped Daniel in a few ways. It was very discreet since he had to keep it a secret from everyone including Arthur, who fought against Daniel at that time. 
After the part of the war against the UK ended, Alfred tried to convince Daniel to stop the war and give up on being independent. His argument was that Daniel isn’t strong enough and would for sure lose his independence very fast in the good case. In the bad case he could get injured or even get killed. 
Daniel didn’t like the way Alfred is preaching against him to say the least. He was humiliated by Alfred and called him out for not fully supporting him. Daniel took it a step further and demanded not to have any interaction with Alfred ever again after that. 
act ii.
Both Daniel and Alfred decided to let the other go, but it didn’t last for long. Soon, the USSR noticed Daniel’s importance, and he started building ties with him. Alfred did not remain silent to that, and had to put his step in that as well. 
Daniel and Alfred’s relationship started going off and on, and when they were off, it was Daniel and Konstantin’s relationship going on. Daniel didn’t notice the game going on above his head at all, as he admitted to enjoying the sudden interest in him. He felt like he was being valued. 
This situation continued in a low phase, until the year of 1967, and the 6 days war happened. Daniel proved his value even more. At the first time since their fight, Alfred admitted to Daniel that he was wrong when he accused him of not being strong enough. 
After the war, Daniel started behaving egocentric and angry. 
act iii
After the 6 days war, Daniel either proved his value. His neighbor Egypt (Nour) who was injured in that war, had good ties with Alfred, and kindly asked him to intervene between the situation of him and his adopted brother. 
Alfred agreed and started building a more meaningful relationship with Daniel so he would listen to his request regarding Nour, since Daniel snapped every time Nour or any of his neighbors were mentioned in a conversation, even a bit. He wouldn’t listen, and act egocentric and delusional. At this point, Alfred noticed that Daniel is going through something and needs a different approach if he wants him to agree to any contract or deal. 
The friendship grew, but it was too late. Alfred didn’t find a good way to soften Daniel enough on time, before Nour started a war on Kippur of 1973, which when Daniel was badly injured. This was also his wake up call to pop his bubble and get back to reality. At this point, Daniel became much more depressed but also aware of his problems. His mindset matched Alfred’s old mindset about him; he was too weak. But at this breakpoint, Alfred decided to be strong for him. 
act iv
After the war, Alfred promised to be next to Daniel’s side, no matter what. He declared “Special Relationship” with him. Since this point and on, this relationship is official.
In 1991, there was a war between the USA and Iraq, the gulf war. In which war, Israel was dragged into. Alfred blamed himself for that and decided to move his forces to Israel, where he spent most of his days at that war. This war was the first time both Daniel and Alfred had their shared domestic life together. 
Lately, Daniel has become more vocal about his needs, while Alfred has become more indifferent about them. But yet, this relationship is strong and going.
🇮🇱 Headcanons 🇺🇸
Love language.
Alfred is the verbal one of the two. He talks out his emotions, as soon as he feels them. He isn’t shy about it. Though, in the past it was harder to do. Alfred used to feel blocked in front of Daniel. As the time went by, Alfred learned how to say what’s on his mind out loud. 
He is also very physical. He will hug, kiss, hold or touch as a love message. He makes sure that Daniel knows every moment how he feels. 
Daniel, on the other hand, is very subtle. He doesn’t talk a lot about his feelings. His body language is louder, though. Alfred learned to read his body, and therefore tell what’s on Daniel’s mind. Daniel is purposely sending messages through his eyes, hands, torso and so on. He has a harder time talking, either because he is a stutterer, and because he’s a shy man. 
But when he is angry, he won’t keep his thoughts inside for so long. He will snap. Unfortunately, his emotional nature will make him lose proportions fast. 
With others.
When with others, both know how to give the other space. Both have their own family and social lives, and let others enjoy them too. But both expect to be the others’ main priority, while Daniel is less needy due to him being an introvert, and understands Alfred’s responsibilities. 
special thanks to @dolceminerva97 for this amazing commission!
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thebibliosphere · 3 years ago
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I had a question.
So, just an hour or two ago, I was going through some sort of “manic high”, sorta like how somebody with bipolar disorder would have (I don’t have BPD). It felt like a bullet train at max speed and completely derailing, and it was incredibly draining. It also got me wondering.
Do people with severe enough ADHD deal with ADHD episodes like this? My search attempts are often futile because all of it is just talking about how to differentiate between BPD and ADHD and BPD manic episodes, but nobody ever mentions ADHD episodes; the only time I’ve seen it mentioned ever was when somebody made a clip of crankgameplays to show what an ADHD episode looked like.
Do they even exist? I’ve got no idea, so I was just wondering if you knew.
Hey! Sorry, I saw your other ask a while ago, but I wanted to talk to my ADHD specialist before I answered because I’d never heard of the term “episode” being used to describe ADHD. I’m also going to splice both questions together here and answer them in segments in the hope it helps :)
So like I said, I’d never heard of the term “episode” with ADHD, and neither has my specialist. Part of ADHD is having a natural ebb and flow between inattention and hyperactivity, sometimes skewed toward one or the other, depending on your ADHD type. (What are the different types of ADHD?)
Your type of ADHD may also fluctuate because of other factors, such as stress, changes in medication, hormonal fluctuations, lack of sleep, overstimulation, or even under-stimulation, to name a few. Another overlooked part of ADHD is emotional dysregulation, which may cause rapid cycling emotions that may look like an “episode” to someone unfamiliar with what that actually qualifies. The way my therapist explained it and using your example of bipolar disorder, “episode” is used in diagnostic criteria to categorize manic or depressive episodes that last X amount of time, are usually severe, potentially requiring hospitalization, and are accompanied by other symptoms not found in ADHD.
Our “bursts” of energy or lack thereof typically don’t last long enough to be considered episodes. This isn’t to say they are not severe or debilitating, especially if you suffer from things like anxiety or depression that ADHD can feed into. Merely that “episode” is not used as part of the language used to discuss ADHD, which is likely why you’re not finding anything.
So, do ADHDers experience intense bursts of energy that are draining afterward? Yeah, we can do, especially if we lean more toward hyperactive than inattentive. (And again, it's normal to fluctuate and also for things to be affected or worsened by secondary factors.)
And I'm going to put the rest under the cut because this is hella long.
I’ve seen some people think that all hyperactivity has to come with fixation, but that’s not how ADHD works. It’s true if something gets us excited or gives us a dopamine boost, we might be more prone to becoming hyperfixated and burn all our energy up on that. But you don’t need something to fixate on to experience hyperactivity. Some of us are just wired to the moon sometimes, and yes, it can be very draining when it ends. Some people find medication helpful in regulating their hyperactivity/preventing it from coming in such big swings and dips.
Speaking personally, when I'm hyper and nothing is grabbing my attention, the world and people around me can feel painfully slow. It's like I'm going a mile a minute doing everything but achieving nothing. The crash that comes after can also be particularly bad, as I also have dysthymia, which can tip over into a major depressive episode depending on other factors in my life at that time. For years I was misdiagnosed as having "probably Bipolar Type II" by a doctor who didn't believe teenage girls could "get" ADHD* and convinced my parents I needed psychoactive drugs. The drugs I was on didn't help, in fact, they made me worse so I was taken off them.
It wasn't until I found an ADHD specialist as an adult a few years ago that I made any real progress. And I'll be honest, I was shocked when she diagnosed me with ADHD, I really didn't think I had it. Right up until we started doing the work and slowly but surely my mental health began to improve and my understanding of myself with it.
Sometimes there are days when I will be wired to the moon and it will derail my entire day because I can't focus on a single thing/I'll focus too much on a single thing. Other times, like when I am closer to my menstrual cycle, I'll crash into inattentiveness and depression because of how my hormones affect my various different conditions, including my ADHD. Medication would likely help with this, but due to medical reasons, that's currently not an option for me so I do the best I can.
That said, if you’re experiencing something more than hyperactivity but it's not mania, you may be experiencing a form of hypomania and you should talk to a doctor about your concerns.
Hypomania typically occurs in Bipolar Type II disorder, which is less severe than the manic episodes in Bipolar I. I’ve experienced both manic and hypomanic episodes in my life due to medication interactions, and they felt very different from ADHD hyperactivity. It's not just derailing mile-a-minute thoughts, it's something usually completely mood-altering and out of control feeling followed by devastating crashes.
If you're on any medications and are worried you are experiencing something like this, you need to talk to your doctor. You might just need a dosage tweak, or you might be better off on a different medication altogether. Also, make a thorough check of any and all medications you are taking to check for any interactions.
I'm on a cocktail of meds for my MCAS, which if I were to combine them with the SSRI one of my doctors wants me to try, would result in serotonin syndrome. The doctor didn't notice this, but the pharmacist sure as shit did!
Some people (ask me how I know) even develop mild hypomania from overusing the sunlamps used to treat SAD (link), which is why brands like Verilux now include warnings in their leaflets about not using the lamps for more than X amount of time a day. Thankfully it goes away once you stop overusing the lamps.
Which actually brings me to something you asked last time about being unable to sleep at night. Insomnia and delayed sleep phase cycles are not uncommon in ADHD. This is likely because our circadian rhythm is thought to be out of whack (link).
You also mentioned having racing thoughts at night too, which is not uncommon either with hyperactivity. I find if I get overstimulated before trying to sleep, I’ll end up lying there awake with what I like to call “radio ADHD” playing in my head. It can range from snippets of songs stuck on repeat, conversations, things I’ve watched on TV, arguments, or if something is happening the next day, fixating on not being late for it. Hence, I end up getting no sleep because you can’t accidentally sleep in if you don’t sleep. *jazz hands of despair.*
Sometimes I find Radio ADHD soothing if it’s fixating on something chill, but it can get annoying fast and even distressing if I’m tired and can’t “change the station.” (I’d say “shut it off,” but as of yet, I’ve never been able to do that. Medication helps some people with this, as can looking into “sleep hygiene” if you haven’t already.) Conversely, if I’m bored or something is too stressful, I will 100% fall asleep because my brain would literally rather just turn off than do something I don’t want to do or is a low dopamine reward task.
Brains are fun.
Anyway, I uh, I am not sure if any of this is useful to you, but I hope it helps. Mostly I'm just repeating back what my specialist said when I asked her about it lol. Good luck, and I hope you figure things out.
----
*NB: It's important to note that ADHD and Bipolar Disorder can be comorbid. It's not a one or the other situation. I’m just throwing it out there in case hearing that helps someone else pursue the proper diagnosis!
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blogevaawrites · 4 years ago
Text
Keeping to the schedule
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Warnings: angst, sad, marriage, divorce, smut
Summary: After seven years of being married, two daughters and a difficult divorce, they try to understand what went wrong and why they let that happen.
Part I   Part II
I tried to process the whole information he was sharing and for the first time I believed I made a mistake. I saw it then, why he has been incredibly mad at me.
Sure, at first our separation was hard, but now he was looking happy, at least that’s what he shows me. I also was well, I still loved him but deep in my heart I thought it was the best for both of us. Now everything seems so wrong.
“There was another way. You could have told me everything, we could have dealt with all of that. You let this happen to us.” I said, full of resentment. His face was different then, he came here full of concern and then all what I was seeing was frustration.  
“What are you talking about? You filed for divorce. You decided unilaterally when we were done. You ran away from our marriage at first obstacle. This is not my fucking blame.” His words were like a knife in my skin. I never took it like that. All what I could see was his unhappiness and coldness, in my heart I was doing the right thing.
Tears fell down through my cheeks uncontrollably, our seven years together seemed thrown away. I could feel him moving around the room, he was trying to calm down himself.
“I thought you were being distant because you blamed me for the infection, and then when anything seemed to change, I thought you weren’t happy and that you didn’t know how to leave me.” I said after I got my shit together. I saw him shaking his head, I wasn't sure if he wasn’t satisfied with my words or if he was answering the accusation.
He didn’t response right away, he took a few minutes to breathe loudly.
“I felt ashamed of being the one who needed help after what you went through.” He said without looking at me, he was staring the wall behind me. “I could have never ever blamed you for something like that.” He finished. His hand went to caress my face before pulling me to his embrace.
“I’m sorry” I babbled between tears.
I let myself cry my eyes out in his arms. I felt like I threw out our life because I couldn’t put aside my anger to talk our problems out , like I put my daughters through all of that because I got mad at my husband. I knew he wasn't innocent at all but guiltiness took over my whole body and couldn’t shake it off.
His hands ran all over my back and the back of my neck; the feeling of security invaded my body and the need of get out of my own thoughts grew.
He was so close to me that I couldn’t help kissing him.
His hands didn’t take long before holding my face closer to him, in the perfect position to let our tongues connect with each other.
Needing for air we broke the kiss but not for long, he kissed me again letting his hand go to hold me up from my butt. I just could follow his actions; I didn’t want to do anything else. He took me to our bedroom quickly, he sat at the edge of the bed making me straddle him.
Without leaving my mouth, he moved the strips of my shirt away from my shoulders, leaving my breast on full display for him. His hands played with my nipples before taking them in his mouth. I just could moan, moving my hips to find some friction against his bulge. He showed me his excitement pushing my hips even closer to him.
“I love you so much” he mumbled against my collarbone. His words made my noxious thoughts hunt my mind, I knew he loves me, I loved him too; it wasn’t the first time he said it after our divorce, but it was wrong now. I stood up quickly, he looked at me confused while I tried to put my shirt on again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked extending his arm to reach me.
“Who am I now? Your sidechick. Isn’t works in the other way? From a sidechick to a wife?” I said with a sardonic laugh, rubbing my eyes, trying to concentrate again.
He laughed, laying down on the bed. I looked at him completely horrified by his reaction. He took his phone from his jeans and scrolled around it for a few seconds before handing it to me.
It was a kind of a contract, an agreement to release seven pictures along with a misleading and suggestive headline.
“Meghan asked me because her team want her to be related to a certain kind of people.” He explained, I knew that this is part of his job, and he was used to it before we got together.
“It’s a pap walk.” I said understanding what he meant, I wasn’t familiar to it because he hadn’t done one since we met.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to tell you when I came the last time.” He took my hand to bring me closer to him while he continued explaining “I shouldn’t have agreed to it, but I realized of it too late and I wanted to talk to you before the pictures got release. I didn’t want you to feel disappointed or mad and don’t worry! I already asked her and Meghan to shut down any rumor.” He guided my legs to straddle him again. “I tried to bail out of it after what happened between us, but I just couldn’t.”
“Okay.” I felt relieved. I wasn’t ready to see him with someone else, and thank God, he said he wasn’t ready to date again.
“Let’s just put you to sleep, okay?” He said caressing my head and taking my hair away from my face. He saw my face and quickly he explained to me his change of mind.
“The girls are with Scott, but he has a flight to catch in a couple hours. I need to pick them up. Okay?” he said forcing me to look at him. “Hey! Listen to me I will call you as soon as they fall sleep, will that be okay?” he asked again.  
I nodded, getting up. I thought he was going to leave right away but he did not. He uncovered the bed for me to get in and laid next to me for a few minutes.
“You will always be the one. I promise.” He slurred against my temple, after kissing it.
He left the room without waiting for an answer, he must have thought I was sleeping because he tried not to make many noises.
After a few hours, my phone rang, and I didn’t wait a second to respond.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be up.” he said. I could hear him closing a door. I haven’t been in his new house, but I know his style very well, enough at least, to imagine it.
“I’m a light sleeper.”
“I know.” He let go a sad laugh. “I wanted to call you early, but Anna was interrogating my ass about my quick trip of tonight.” he said cooling off the environment.  
“Oh! Yeah! She can be very tough, it’s probably a phase.” I said with a smile, remembering the last time I had a quick conversation with our neighbor, and she thought I was dating him.
“Yeah! I guess, but I think we should check on her, maybe she’s experiencing anxiety because of the changes or something like that. I’ve been reading about kids with divorced parents can suffers these kinds of things.” I knew he was just worried about them; I was too, but right then I felt guilty, I felt like I did this to them.
“Okay” I murmured.
I was excited about his call, I wanted to figure it out what we could do to save this, but maybe it was too late. We held on everything for so long, and now it’s probably just too late.
“What do you want to do?” he asked calmly, completely away from my thoughts.
“I don’t know.”
“Tomorrow my sister is going to the lake house. She wanted me to take the girls, but I could let them go with her and we could hang out. I don’t know, we could have a kind of a date and talk, we could try to sort this out.”  
“Okay.”
“Is everything alright?” I knew he was asking because of my monosyllabic answers.
“Yes, I’m just kind of sleepy.” I didn’t want to talk anymore.
“Okay.” his voice sounded disappointed now. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
“I love you” he said after a few seconds quiet.
I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, I loved him, but it felt like I was accepting everything, it felt like I was saying “yes, I broke us, our family”.
“Me too”  
I couldn’t say much else. I said bye and hung up.
He picked me up at 7:00 p.m, he told he wanted to spend the day with the girls because they wanted to spend the night over there with their cousins. We decided to just have a dinner at his house in order to have more privacy and also, we could be in a kind of neutral environment since he doesn’t feel it like home, and I don’t even know the house.
“You want a tour?” he asked as soon as we got in the house. I nodded and followed him through the house. I wasn’t wrong about this style, the house it was almost a copy of ours, and it felt weird.
“It’s very similar to ours, isn’t?” I said softly, I wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.
“Yeah, I know, Scott said the same thing, but I don’t know, I’m living here, and this has to be home now.” He said and all at once I felt the guiltiness coming back to my body, it was like I kicked him out of his home.
“We have your favorite for dinner” he said completely unaware of my harmful thoughts.
“Great.” I didn’t want to spoil any possible progress.
He took my hand guiding me to the dinning room. We had a nice dinner, just talking about our past, when we met, when I got pregnant with Anna, when we took her to Disney for the first time… we had a happy life.
We talked about everything, but we didn’t talk about why we let this happened to us. It was like we weren’t seeing the big fat elephant in the room. After the dinner he took me outside to have the dessert in front the fireplace.
“Are you okay?” he asked worried, I wasn’t being very talkative, and he knows me well enough to let it pass.
“Yes.” I said taking a spoon of mousse.
He took my dessert from my hands.
“You sure?” he asked, forcing me to look at him by my chin. I just could nod; I didn’t know what else to do.
He took my chin to his head, kissing me deeply. He got his body closer to mine and his hand went to hip and the other one didn’t leave the back of my neck. I kept to his leading until I felt his hand get under my dress, touching my naked thigh. I pushed him away from me softly. I stood up and rubbed my face trying to find the right words.
“This is not my fault.” I dopped. He smiled in confusion.
“Well, I guess it’s not, I started to kiss you, but…” he started to say.
“I didn’t break us. I may have been the one who made it official, but you decided not to tell me what was going on.” As I said that his eyes went dark. I knew he was ready to fight back, I have seen those eyes too many times.
“It wasn’t exactly an easy journey, I couldn’t…” he was accepting that he blamed me. His voice also changed; it wasn’t the same voice he used to used when we were married. This one was ironic, rough, and mean, the one he use since we were divorced.
“Mine wasn’t easy either! It wasn’t just a rough patch for me, Chris. I felt you were abandoning me, and you knew what I was feeling.”  My eyes were getting wet, and I tried to do everything not to cry.
“How I could have known that?” he sounded irritated, not just because he was talking louder but he also because his head was resting in his hands.
“Because I told you, Chris! I asked you to come back home million of times, and you rather take our daughters to the other side of the world than come back home with your wife.” I said, recalling the last time I asked him when he was going to be back. He didn’t answer, instead of that he set a whole plan. He made Scott flight to Boston to pick up the girls and then take them to Japan where he was filming his fifth film of the year.  
“I was working…” He said with a different voice.
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” The air got cooler; we weren’t yelling anymore. He wasn’t looking at me when I started to walk out.
“I don’t think we can do this.” I said, ready to leave.
“We have to try it.” He caught my attention.
“Emma and Anna will be alright; they are fine now.” I’ve always thought that keeping kids in a unhappy marriage it’s way more dangerous that have a civilized divorce. I knew he was worried about them, but it wasn’t right.  
“Not because of them, because I love you and I know you love me too.” He was right.
“Maybe it’s not enough anymore.”
“Yes, it is! It has to be! I don’t want to be alone the rest of my life and if it’s not with you I will be, don’t you see it? It’s been almost a year and I still thinking of you as my wife.” He stood up to get closer to me.
It broke my heart that he was right. I can’t imagine myself with another man, and it could be just a matter of time, but I honestly didn’t think so.
“How could this work? We’re going to end hating each other.” I said verbalizing one of my biggest fears.
“We won’t. I promise.” He said pulling my body to his arms.
 @moonlacebeam @denisemarieangelina @lovebittenbyevans @popteest @aubageddon91 @hey-diddly-ho-neighborino @impala1967666 @firoozehmoon
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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago
Text
O̶l̶d̶ M̶a̶n̶ M̶o̶v̶e̶s̶
__________________________ Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve shows you a thing or two about being an old man. 
Warnings: *AGE GAP*, smut 18+ minors dni, very dark/inappropriate joke (only mentioned once but beware)
Author’s Notes: I know this isn’t the most original but hEr yA gO lol (ps this a long one but boy is it a good read #prettyproud ;) lmao) __________________________
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“Hey Nat, do you know anything about World War II?” you peeked your head in her room.
“Nope, ask Steve.”
“Hey Tony, do you know anything about World War II?” you walked into the lab.
“Nope, ask Steve.”
“Hey Sam, where’s Bucky?” you walked in the kitchen.
“Mission.”
“Well, do you know anything about  World War II?”
“Nope, ask Steve,” you grunted and rolled your eyes.
“Hey Wanda, do you know anything about World War II?”
“Nope, have you asked Steve?” 
“Ugh! Everyone keeps saying that,” you flopped down on her bed.  
“And why aren't you asking him?” 
You looked at her raising an eyebrow. She was the only, well you think Nat knows but Wanda is the only person you told about your little crush on the super soldier. Upon seeing your face, Wanda chuckled humorously. One time she caught you during a meeting thinking about Steve; every part of Steve. To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement. 
“What about Bucky?”
“He’s on a mission. Hey, what are you watching?”
“Malcolm in the Middle.”
“Nice.”
You laughed at the show for a bit before grunting remembering that you had to finish the history report for your college professor who’s as old as sliced bread. Before you walked out Vision phased through the door. 
“Ooh! Vis, tell me everything about World War II!”
“No, Vis! Don’t tell her a single thing! You have to ask Steve,” she scolded. 
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Wanda,” you whined.
“I’m pretty sure he’s in his room,” she smirked.
“Please don’t make me do it,” you begged hyperbolically. 
“Then fail your report,” she smirked evilly.
“Dammit, Wanda,” you left her room hearing her snicker. 
You stomped to your room and collapsed on your bed. You sat at your computer for twenty minutes until a knock disturbed your dreadful staring. 
“Steve!” you shouted opening the door.
“Hey, Sam told me you needed help with a history report?”
“Sam told you?”
“Yeah; and Tony, and Nat, and Wanda,” Steve phoned chimed suddenly.
“Oh, uh, Buck just texted me saying Sam told him that you need help with uh, a history report,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, World War II,” you gritted.
“Well,” he stood awkwardly at your door still.
“Come in,” you moved over to let him in.
Steve walked in and sat on the edge of your bed. You scurried over and threw yourself on the bed gathering all your papers and books and your laptop. You sat criss crossed on the bed before looking up at him ready for learning, I guess.
“Ok so what exactly do you need to know?” Steve smiled.
“Oh well, uh, maybe we start with life before soldiers got drafted?” you suggested.
Steve smiled remembering tons of stories and memories of him and Bucky being teenagers in New York. You stopped caring about your report altogether and just kicked back to listen to all about Steve. The way he lit up whenever remembered something he forgot to tell you made your heart burst. 
At one point he started laughing so hard, as were you, when he slapped his hand directly on your thigh and squeezed hard from pure humor. Needless to say, you instantly stopped laughing and zeroed in on his large hand and the way it gripped your thigh. 
“Awe man, that such was a good day,” he breathed out once he cooled down.
“Yeah, it’s kinda weird,” you said, coming back to reality.
“Why’s that weird?”
“I don’t know? You’re the captain, you don’t have fun. You’re an old man,” you giggled.
“Old man? Kid, you’re hurting me,” he clutched his chest dramatically.
“Hey, I already told you to stop calling me kid. I’m twenty years old,” you crossed your arms. 
“Hey come on, I’m just joshing ya,” he smirked.
“Who the fuck says ‘joshing ya’?” you laughed.
“What, the kids don’t say that nowadays?” he laughed.
“No!” you were cracking up rolling on the bed.
“You’re supposed to be doing your history report,” he defended.
“You’re such an old man, oh god.”
“And you’re such a child,” he pinned you down on the bed.
“Ooh, someone busting out the old man moves. Get off grandpa,” you smirked.
“Make me, kid,” he emphasized ‘kid’.
You two glared at each amusingly, both trying you very best to not smile. Your shirt had ridden up your stomach and Steve could somewhat see the exposed skin. He didn't think you were a kid per say, he thought you were a very beautiful young woman; too young. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to pursue any sort of relationship with you; it’s not like you were very incognito when it came to checking him out. He knew that you liked him. 
Explains all the teasing you do too. 
The close proximity between you two make you both bothersome; Steve's muscle clenching and fighting every urge in his body to do something he might regret, or worse, something you’ll regret. Your stomach flipped and your mind wandered to what it would be like if you were in this position under different circumstances. 
In an attempt to relieve yourself without Steve knowing you clenched your thighs softly before moving your knee up. Upon moving your knee, your eyes widened and Steve instantly got off you covering his modesty with your sheet. Your face slowly turned into a mischievous smirk before raising your eyebrow at Steve, who profusely blushed under your taunting gaze. 
“Do kids turn you on?” you joked.
“Y/n!” Steve groaned at your highly inappropriate joke.
“I’m kidding!” Steve simply rolled his eyes at you.
“I’m just joshing ya,” you grinned, making Steve chuckle.
“How much of your report have you done?” Steve reached for your laptop; making you panic because you didn’t even have your name let alone a title typed out. 
“Seriously?” he looked at you like a stern father.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you said.
“You don’t even have your name,” he cracked a smile.
“Well, your stories are just too captivating; I was distracted,” you weren’t exactly lying, seeing Steve seem so relaxed and carefree thinking back on memories made you smile. 
“Distracted,” he repeated sarcastically.
“Yeah, I was,” you felt small as Steve got closer to you.
“Is this distracting now?” he mocked.
“Maybe,” you whispered.
He looked at your lips before running his nose along your cheek and your own nose. He pressed his lips too close to your lips, of which you were desperate for him to touch. Your hands grabbed at his arms that were held tightly on your waist for any sort of stability. You felt like you were going to pass out. 
“You better finish that report if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered against your lips. 
“Huh?” you breathed out seeing as Steve has stood up and made his way to your door. 
“You heard me. Come find me when you’ve been a good girl and finished that report,” he slipped out smoothly leaving you high and dry, or rather soaking in arousal. 
Your eyes were practically bulging from your head and you couldn’t believe the Steve with that gnarly stick up his ass was the same one that just easily turned you on like an easy-bake oven and called you a ‘good girl’. You immediately rushed to grab your laptop googling facts about World War II and typed faster than Usain Bolt could run.
Meanwhile Steve stood in the shower with cock in hand, his thumb rubbing over the tip leaking with precum. He ran his hand down his shaft and threw his head back at the pleasure. He moaned your name and tensed his muscles getting close to a release. 
He had to hold on to the wall to keep his knees from buckling. The sight of seeing you under him, squirming and wiggling so innocently made his cock twitch. He knew that you liked him, it wasn’t necessarily a huge secret; you weren’t desperate to hide that fact. But he knew you weren’t going around telling people so he never said anything. 
He went to your room genuinely trying to help with your college report and he got enthralled with his own memories. He didn’t exactly know when the air shifted but he realized it indefinitely when your body tensed under his hand that rested perfectly on your thigh. 
He remembers the softness of skin and remembers the way your breathing quickened. He kept the conversation going as innocently as possible but then you started teasing him about his age, about what an old fashioned sucker he was. And all he could think about in that moment was flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress you showing his “old man moves”. 
“Fuck,” he moaned to himself.
Soon enough after a couple more pumps, he painted the shower walls with his cum desperately wishing it was your stomach or even your back. He just wanted you there with him. He felt guilty thinking about you like that. He knew if he were ever to get with you he wouldn't be able to keep up. You were so spright and mischievous and beautiful and gorgeous and sexy and… wait; slow down, Steve.
He got out of the shower and cleaned himself off. He changed and just stayed in his room letting the sounds of the TV drown any thoughts he might wandered to you. A sudden knock broke the silence settled in his room and he opened the door to find his best friend. 
“Hey, man,” Bucky smiled.
“Buck, your back,” Steve opened the door further letting him come in. 
“Oh, did you get my text? About helping Y/n with her report? Heard it’s like forty percent of her grade,” he said. 
“Yeah uh, I did,” Steve said hesitantly; Bucky narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Steve retorted.
“I don’t believe you. Come on what happened?” Buck chuckled.
“She called me an old man,” Steve pouted.
“Haha! Seriously?”
“Yeah but jokes on her cuz I-” Steve stopped himself, what if his best friend thought he was a creep.
“Oh no, did you guys fuck?” he asked suddenly.
“Buck,” Steve groaned.
“You did, didn’t you!”
“Almost!” Steve bursted out, his eyes widening in fear.
“Hey, why are you all freaked out? I thought you liked her?” Bucky questioned.
“Yeah, but what? She’s too young. I thought you were gonna think I was a creep,” Steve was confused.
“Well, how old is she?”
“She’s uh, she’s twenty, almost twenty-one,” he muttered.
“Oh, yikes. Uh, I don’t know man. I mean you’re both adults,” Bucky said. 
“Fuck, man. I really fucked up,” Steve said making Bucky ‘language’ him of which Steve glared back.
“Did you kiss her?”
“No, almost,” Steve responded.
“Ok then what happened?”
Steve explained to Bucky what happened just hours ago and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his poor friend's antics.
“You’re such a fucking tease, Steve,” Bucky joked.
“Buck, you’re not helping,” Steve grunted.
“Well, either you keep your promise and fuck her good, or be that old man she called you with a stick up your ass and make her feel like shit. No pressure though. See for dinner, I’m going to beat the shit out of Sam,” Bucky stood up.
“What’d he do?”
“Nothing,” with that Bucky left. 
Steve sat there on his bed conflicted. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. All he knows is that you’re a beautiful girl and Steve wants nothing more than to show you; he knows you'd be more than willing to let him have his way with you. But on the contrary, you are too young. There are tons of guys who would be so lucky to call you theirs; and they’re your age. 
Then again, Steve can’t even imagine another man putting his hands on you. They’d never be able to pleasure you like he could. Ugh, but you called him an old man! Fuck this, Steve thought, I’m taking a nap.
-
You sat in your room busying yourself with facts about the war. You cried about the horrid things that happened, terrified that people that live in the world. You were even more shocked that Bucky and Steve lived through that. 
You glanced at the clock noticing the many hours that had passed you. It was sundown which usually meant Wanda was going to come by any minute-
“What do you want for dinner?” There she is. 
“Uh, I’m not sure. Haven't had much time to think about it,” you said lifting your laptop.
“Did Steve come?”
“I don’t know but he came pretty close,” you said snarkily. When he left about 5 minutes after you had to change your panties because you couldn’t focus on the report with arousal dripping out of you. 
“What the hell does that mean?” Wanda sat on your bed. You told what happened when Steve came by, how innocent everything seemed until it wasn’t. Wanda was rolling on your bed in laughter, snorting at your frustration. 
“Wandaaa,” you whined. 
“Sorry, sorry. But I’m confused,” she cooled down.
“What’s there to be confused about; Steve Rogers is a fucking tease,” you grunted. 
“I thought this is what you want. He clearly seems to like you back,” she said. 
“I don’t know it’s just-”
“Just what?”
“It’s not exactly clear whether he likes me or just wants some young, fresh meat. He didn’t say he liked me back.”
“Did you say you liked him in the first place?”
“No.” Wanda sighed at your answer. Were you overreacting?
“Y/n, I’ve known Steve for a long time and he’s not that kinda guy.”
“People change.”
“Y/n-”
“I just wish it stayed like a little stupid crush, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about my heart getting broken like that; worrying whether it’s real or not. Pining hurts so good, it’s comfortable.”
“Well, on a lighter note, how’s the report?” Wanda changed the subject so you wouldn’t feel bad anymore.
“I’m almost done, I think I’m gonna skip out on dinner. I’m really close to finishing,” you told her.
“Want me to bring you a plate?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
-
Everyone sat at the table eating silently. Sam held an ice pack to his face because Bucky accidentally threw a rock at him; seriously it was an accident. Bucky threw the rock at his groin but Sam tripped back and the rock landed on his face. There are no hard feelings though, Sam said he was gonna get him and now Bucky’s arm is disabled and limp.
Steve stared at the seat across from him, it was the seat you always took next to Wanda. You weren’t here for dinner and he was wondering if it had something to do with him. Did he make you uncomfortable enough that you never want to see him? 
“She’s finishing her report,” Wanda said, her voice echoing in Steve’s head.
“Ooh what’s the gossip?” Nat said humorously seeing as Wanda’s eyes glowed red as did Steve’s. 
“Nothing,” Steve mumbled. 
“He was wondering where Y/n was?” Wanda said making Steve shoot daggers at her. 
“You miss your little girlfriend?” Sam joked.
“Shut it,” Steve growled.
“She never misses dinner. Where the brat?” Tony asked.
“She has a history report for a college class and she told me she was almost done and that she was gonna skip dinner,” Wanda explained.
No more questions were asked and everyone ate in peace. Small talk and laughter was exchanged appropriately but Steve couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you lied to Wanda to get out of dinner. What if you hate him now? What if you were creeped out by him now? Fuck.
“Steve your plate?” Wanda asked him. 
“Oh sorry, I’m finished. Thank you,” he handed her the plate of picked food. 
“Y/n, asked me if I could bring her a plate when we were finished.”
Steve simply looked puzzled at her. 
“Take this. And don’t break her heart,” she said handing him your plate. 
“I would never,” he said.
“Don’t tell me, tell her.”
Steve walked hesitantly up to your room. He knocked careful not to disturb you. He heard you shout, giving him access to your room and he found you laying on your stomach typing away on your laptop while cartoons played lowly on the TV.
“I brought your dinner,” he said softly.
“Thank you! Ugh, I’m starving but I swear I have like two sentences.”
He smiled and placed your food on your bedside before sitting on the bed with you. He watched your face carefully memorizing the smallest things about you that he’s never really noticed before. He noticed the dryness of your lips because you bit them whenever you were immensely focused just as now. 
He admired the small creases between your eyebrows and the way you scrunched your nose. Your hair was a little crazy and he noticed you had changed since he’d last been with you. He thinks he knows why that is and if it was true, he felt a sense of pride almost. Imagine if he really got to touch the way he wants. How ruined you would be. 
“Steve?” you asked.
“I’m sorry?” he asked.
“Are you ok?” you smiled awkwardly. 
“Oh uh, yeah. I’m ok.”
You ate quietly, eyes trained on the TV and Steve felt out of place. He went to stand up but you placed your food down and called after him.
“Where are you going?” you asked.
“I didn’t think you wanted me here anymore,” he said softly. 
“But, but you said to come find you when I finish my report. You’re already here,” you said shyly.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think-”
“I was a good girl and finished,” you said innocently biting your lip.
“Y/n,” Steve sighed. 
“What?” Oh no, you guessed it. He doesn’t actually like you and he's just messing with you.
“Hey look at me,” Steve grabbed your chin softly. You didn’t want to but you ultimately did.
“I want nothing more than to reward you for being a good girl but I can’t,” he said sadly.
“It's because I’m too young, isn’t it,” you whined. 
“I can’t do that to you. You have your whole life ahead of you, sweetheart. An old man like me shouldn’t keep you back like this,” he said.
“You’re not keeping anywhere, I’m an Avenger just like you. I don’t have anybody else. I’m only going to college because Tony’s paying for it and I took this stupid histroy class because I wanted to know more about what life was like for you. Because I like you,” you said. 
“Y/n, you can have anyone and you’re choosing me?” he chuckled.
“Yes, guys my age don’t even know where the clit is!” you shouted exasperated.
“Show them,” he said stupidly.
“Ah, yes. Because a twenty-two year old college frat boy is gonna wanna listen to you tell him how to have sex,” you said squinting your eyes, making Steve chuckle.
“I don’t want a guy my age, I want you.”
Steve cupped your face softly and you leaned into his hand with a childish pout. Steve smiled at you and your pout turned into a smile too. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, babygirl,” he sighed, pushing you down to lay on the bed.
“Not if you die from a stroke first old man,” you cracked. 
Steve wrapped his large hand around your neck bringing his face dangerously close yours.
“Smart mouth, and to think I was about to reward you.”
His voice gave you chills and you audibly whimpered under him. Steve pressed his leg between your thighs and your body shudder feeling his muscular thigh firmly pressed against your core.
“Fuck,” your voice shook.
“Does that feel good?” he asked mockingly, he knows what he’s doing.
“Yes, Stevie,” you whimpered.
“Fuck, you sound sweet whimpering and shaking under me. Almost feel kinda bad.”
His hand squeezed a bit harder and your body melted into the bed. He leaned down and kissed for the first time. Your eyes opened wide before fluttering closed again wallowing in his kiss. Your hand moved from his forearm to his face cupping it gently and your lips moved against his impeccably. 
His lips faltered and trailed down your throat, his hand pulling your hair gently to move your head back to give him more room. He nipped and bit at your throat hungrily before soothing his marks with his tongue. His hands sneaked up your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin under your breasts. He could feel the chills that rose all over your skin and he chuckled darkly in your ear. 
“Is this ok?” he asked softly tugging the waistband of your shorts. 
“Yes, please,” you moaned. 
Steve pulled them down little by little pressing kisses to every new part of exposed skin. He littered your hip bones and thighs with light bruises and bites. You were practically dripping in arousal, toes curling under themselves anticipating Steve’s next move.
He stood up at the edge of the bed keeping his eyes trained on yours, slowly unbuckling his belt. He pulled his pants down showing off his very impressive length. He gripped with his hand pumping it softly. He grabbed your ankle with his other hand and pulled you close to the edge of the bed.
“Lay on your stomach, babygirl,” Steve directed.
You eagerly flipped over, pushing your ass up to the air. Steve smiled at your ambition and gently rubbed your cheeks you put up for him. He pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with you. 
“Fuck, you gonna be my good girl?” he asked seductively.
“Yeah, fuck. Stevie, fuck me good,” you moaned. 
“Open up those pretty legs for me, will ya?” Steve smirked. You spread your legs wider and arched your back more. When Steve finally pushed past your entrance, you felt so full. 
“You gotta breathe baby,” Steve soothed. 
“Sorry, you’re just… so big,” you whimpered.
“I know baby but you're taking my cock so well, you're being such a good fucking girl.”
“Steve!” you squeaked. 
Steve snapped his hips in and out of you rapidly and you couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your mouth. Steve gripped your hips harshly, forming littles red and purple marks on your hip bones that you’ll have to admire tomorrow morning. 
You gasped and moaned at the feeling of Steve’s cock driving into you and you couldn’t hold back any longer. 
“Stevie, I’m gonna come! Fuck, I can’t hold it. Please daddy let me come!”
“Come on pretty baby, come for daddy. Make a mess all over my cock like a good girl,” he groaned above you.
Your body trembled and your arms fell forward as you nearly screamed Steve’s name in pure ecstasy. You breathed heavily but Steve wasn’t done with you yet. He pulled his still ever hard dick out of you momentarily to rid his shirt. He walked to the side of the bed and sat comfortably with his back against the headboard. 
“Come here baby girl. I know you’re tired but I think you pull one more for me, yeah?” his voice was silky. 
You whimpered and tried your best to sit up all the way, crawling desperately over to Steve. He kissed you softly before slowly pulling the hem of your shirt over your head to expose your breasts fully to him. 
“Fuck, you are just too beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, his voice raspy making your body shudder above him. 
His hands roamed your body; smoothing over your ribs, your hips to your thighs, back to hips against pulling you impossibly closer to him. His lips again just as before nipped and pecked the skin along your neck and collarbones and you could resist the small whimpers you made. 
“Steve,” you moaned.
“I got ya, baby. I’m right here.”
You looked into his lust blown eyes before kissing him messily. Your age divulges your experience but Steve couldn't care less. You lifted your hips for him and he lined himself once again to your entrance. 
Your arousal made it easier this time around and you were able to fully bask in the feeling and pleasure from Steve’s length. You hastily moved your hips around, back and forth, the position completely new to you. You felt erotic and confident and Steve’s kisses and praises did nothing but egg you on. 
“You're doing so good, my love. God, you keep clenching me like that and I’m gonna blow,” he moaned.
“Please, Stevie. I want to make you feel good,” you encouraged.
“You already are, don’t even worry about that,” he smirked.
Your hands gripped at his shoulders hard, nails digging into his pale skin. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis and soon enough you felt another orgasm approaching quickly. As you grew tired, Steve’s hands went to your cheeks and aided you in moving back and forth.
Your arms gave out again and you fell against Steve's torso still thrusting your hips back and forth with his help. The pressure built rapidly in your lower stomach and you couldn’t hold it again. 
“Steve,” you moaned. 
“I know, just hold on, please. I wanna come with you; I’m almost there,” he gasped. 
You held back as long as you but soon enough your body shook against Steve, desperate to release everything you have in you. In an attempt to distract yourself momentarily, you treated Steve the same by nipping and kissing the skin of his neck and shoulder. Your hands combing into his hair, tugging on his short blonde hair. 
“Ok, go ahead babygirl,” he grunted, “Fuck!”
“Ugh, Steve!” you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder. Ecstasy waved over you and you feel euphoric. Your body trembled from intensity and Steve whispered soft praises in your ear. His words soothed you and your eyes felt heavy. Steve tracing little patterns on the small of your back did not help your tired case. 
“I gotta clean you up, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, you could hear the smile in his voice.
“No, stay with me, please,” you whined. 
“I promise I’ll be back,” he chuckled.
“Hm,” you huffed.
You slowly rolled off of Steve and he practically ran to your bathroom emerging with a warm wet towel in hand. You laid limply on the bed, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Steve kissed your stomach and hips softly as he cleaned between your thighs gently. He went back to the bathroom and cleaned himself up as well.
“Come back,” you whined, making him chuckle.
“Yay,” you cheered softly when he did.
“Are you ok, sweetheart?” 
���Mh-hm,” you nodded tiredly.
“I freaking love you,” you said, hiking your leg over to lay on top of him again. You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” There was a slight moment of pause.
“Do you love me?” your voice crack and tears brimmed your eyes.
“I shouldn’t…” he started. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him with teary eyes; afraid he would say he didn’t and you fell in love just to get your heart broken.
“But I do,” he finally said.
“Thanks,” you sniffled, making Steve smile.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of your head. 
“I love you too, old man.”
-
The next morning, Steve slipped out of bed while you were still asleep, you looked so beautiful and peaceful. It took everything in him not to just crawl back into bed with you but Steve had a couple things to do and it was already past eight. He promised to himself that he was gonna come back before you wake up.
So he softly closed the door before immediately running around the compound filing paperwork, directing agents and trainees, meeting with Nick Fury, and lastly making breakfast for you and him. Wanda, Bucky, and Sam all sat at the counter eating bowls of cereal watching Steve frantically run around the kitchen making breakfast. 
“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky spoke up. 
“I’m making breakfast,” Steve momentarily stopped to say. 
“Ok, but why are you freaking out like that? You’re running around like a crazy person.”
“I have to make it before-” Steve stopped himself. He didn't know whether or not he should say anything, whether you were comfortable with others knowing yet. 
“What did you do?” Wanda said, smiling like an idiot.
“Nothing, I’m just really hungry and I need to make breakfast before I starve,” he said.
“Really?”  Bucky said.
“Yeah.”
“Where’s Y/n?”
“She’s aslee-” Steve stopped himself again.
The three at the counter bursted into a fit of laughter at Steve’s slip up and he just simply rolled his eyes before finally plating the food and running upstairs. Not without flipping the three still laughing off. 
He slowly opened the door finding you still asleep in bed. He smiled at your beautiful form illuminated by the golden rays of the sun peeking through the curtains. He placed the food on your table before sitting on the bed, his hands softly running up and down your side to slowly wake you. 
Your eyes fluttered open and upon seeing Steve’s gorgeous face you smiled. 
“Good morning, old man,” you grinned cheekily. 
“When are you let that go?” he shook his head.
“Never,” you winked.
“I brought you food, pretty girl.”
“Thank you,” you sat up covering yourself. You ate the food he made for you and made grabby hands for him to cuddle you. He laughed before crawling back into bed with you. You made a face though before he got fully under the covers and he gave a puzzled look.
“What?”
“Why are you all dressed?”
“I had a couple things to do this morning and then I made you breakfast. I couldn’t walk around in my birthday suit,” he laughed.
“Hm, fine. I’ll give you a pass,” you said making him chuckle, “Can you at least take your shirt off again?”
He smiled cheekily before getting up and taking his shirt and pants off leaving him in his boxers. You cheered making him laugh even harder before he dived into bed cuddling you extra close. His strong arms wrapping safely around you and his legs entangling themselves with yours. 
You kissed him one last time before grabbing your TV remote and turning on the TV to watch cartoons.
“You know sometimes you really are a kid,” Steve snickered.
“Yeah grandpa? What about this,” you fluffed his beard that specks of grey hairs.
“Do I need to show my old man moves again?” he smirked.
“Yeah, I think you oughta,” you winked before Steve threw the covers kissing your stomach all the way to your core. You gotta admit, the old man’s got some moves. 
==================
ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)
@mathletemadison​
@buckybarnes101​
@l-sofiamia-l 
597 notes · View notes
bbysamu · 4 years ago
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It ain’t Me - a series   
✎ Featuring: KUROO Tetsurou x you 
✎ Now Playing:  It Ain’t Me by Kygo & Selena Gomez 
✎ Genre: Angst 
✎ Word Count: 1,573 
✎ Preview: You and Kuroo are high school sweethearts, you thought your love was as strong as whiskey, burning and sweet. What happens when adult Kuroo develops a bad habit of clubbing too frequently and you find it harder and harder to reach him? 
Ch. I 
Ch. II
Ch. III
Ch. IV
Ch. V
Epilogue
a/n: no underage drinking please, don’t hinder your brain growth
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♫I had a dream We were sipping whiskey neat Highest floor, The Bowery And I was high enough♫ 
“shhh, you have to be quiet babe, we’re not exactly allowed up here”, your boyfriend whispered as he pulled you up, guiding you to the rooftop. You nodded, slowly steadying your breath. 
The dark sky was empty with the exception of the half covered moon and some stray stars. Today was you and Kuroo’s second anniversary, your relationship lasting much longer than typical high school romances. Kuroo had texted you today saying he had a surprise for you. 
And the said surprise was a late night picnic on the school’s rooftop surrounded by big fluffy pillows and dimly lit candles. 
“when did you have time to organize all these?” 
Kuroo smiled proudly, “I had the boys bring over some spare pillows and Lev and Kenma hauled them up here during their free period”. You smiled at the image of the two boys bringing up pillows to the roof, giggling at the thought of Kenma complaining as he climbed the stairs to the roof. You made a mental note to thank the two tomorrow. 
Kuroo gingerly picked up your hand and led you over to the picnic blanket. The two of you quickly settled down, his arms around your waist, as you laid your head on his shoulder, talking about both everything and nothing. 
Kuroo suddenly brought out a bottle of light honey liquid. 
“Happy 2 years to the love of my life.” He said, delicately pouring the golden liquid into a small glass.
“only one glass?” You raised your eyebrows.
“of course, you’re not 18 yet!” 
“I’m literally turning 18 next week and you just turned last week!” 
“exactly! no underage drinking in this relationship.” He smiled cheekily at you before taking a swing at the liquid. You laughed out loud at his expression.
“ew people actually like this stuff? my throat is literally on fire.”
“wait, let me try!” 
“okay.” 
And instead of handing you the glass, Kuroo leaned in. 
You smiled as his tongue met yours, giving you a taste of the sweet whiskey. 
And that’s how the both of you will always remember your second anniversary, the empty night sky and the sweet, burning taste of whiskey. 
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In the years since high school graduation, the two of you have settled into a comfortable pace, no longer the young teenagers, but hardworking adults in a cruel society. The honeymoon period was a distant phase, but that didn’t mean the love between the two of you dwindled. 
You shot a quick text to Kuroo. His lack of response brought a frown to your face. You tried to call him for the third time, this time directly reaching his voicemail. You sighed at the thought of him pressed up against another body and glared at the laptop in front of you. 
Halfway across the town, Kuroo stepped into the dimly lit club in a pressed black button up and some black pants. He lived for nights like these, the mingled bodies on the dance floor and the beautiful ladies. 
Kuroo loves you and he’s been warned by Kenma a bunch of times but he just couldn’t help himself. Kuroo knew you hated the club but he could never bring himself to stop coming. Week after week, especially since you started being asked to work overtime, Kuroo found himself and some of the boys at the club, drinking and dancing with the girls in the short skirts and bodycon dresses. 
Yamamoto wolf-whistled at the sight of the girls walking by, “dang, look at that girl in the black mini”. 
Kuroo whipped his head around and checked out her long legs and low-cut dress before turning to Yamamoto, “I need a drink first”. 
Yamamoto shook his head knowing what this meant. A drink then another was what Kuroo needed to numb himself from the growing guilt eating him away every time he was at the club. With enough alcohol, Kuroo was always able to convince himself he did nothing wrong as he gripped the waist of another woman, his lips on hers. 
He winked at the bartender and a shot was served up. The burning, sweet liquid brought him back to that picnic on the rooftop. He shook his head, chasing away the memory and shot a smile at the girl in the back dress, before making his way over to her. 
♫Somewhere along the lines We stopped seeing eye to eye You were staying out all night And I had enough♫
It was a little past midnight when you made your way over to Kuroo’s apartment, spare key in hand. You knew he was probably at the club, but he promised he’d be home around midnight. Things have been tense between the two of you lately. You sighed at the memory of your fight last week. 
“What do you mean it was nothing?” You shouted, exasperated at the man sitting across from you. “She was all over you!” You sighed internally, tired of always fighting with Kuroo about his clubbing behavior. 
Kuroo shook his head, “babe, I told you, I literally pushed her away, but the video caught the seconds she came on to me before I could even react. I love you, you know that. Why would I ever want someone else?” Kuroo knew he had you by the way your eyes softened, he mentally winced at his lie, memories of making out with the woman fleeted by in his mind. He quickly pushed them away, the guilt barely lingering. Kuroo notices he’s better at doing that.  
“you’re the only one for me” He said pulling you into a hug, his words trying to convince himself more than you. Tired of fighting, you chose to believe him, after all who would you believe, your boyfriend of five years or a 10 second video? 
The turn of the knob brought you back to reality. You smiled at the thought of his surprised face when he comes home to you later. You quickly changed into one of his spare t-shirts and settled down in his bed. “12:30 am” your phone read before you drifted off to sleep. 
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♫ No, I don't wanna know Where you been or where you're goin' But I know I won't be home And you'll be on your own ♫ 
The soft light of sunrise woke you up earlier than your alarm. Your body feeling unexpectedly light as you turn to face the empty space. You thought you would wake up to a Kuroo cuddling you. 
“6:27 am” and no notifications on your phone. You got up, unable to sleep anymore, anger and frustration bubbling at the lack of communication from your boyfriend. 
You look in his fridge, empty except for some leftover boxes. Despite your feelings of anger towards Kuroo, you made a mental note to bring over some groceries next time. You decided to make some tea, mindlessly scrolling through the news. 
A sudden click of the door got you looking up from your phone to see two figures, one unfamiliar, the other as familiar as the back of your hand. 
“You know we could just stay at my place. Why’d you have to insist on this weird coffee?” 
You knew exactly what coffee the female voice was referring to. It was the same one you got him from Vienna that time you studied abroad and he’s been hooked on Viennese coffee ever since. 
You heard his voice, “once you taste it, you won’t ever be able to go back I’m telling you”. 
“where’d you get it from?” 
The two figures stepped into the living room just as Kuroo answered, “oh, just from a frie...” he trailed off as you entered into his field of vision. 
The colors draining from his face, the same look of shock mirrored on your features. 
The woman came into view a second after, confused, “wait, who’s this?” 
The look on both of your faces and the tension in the air got her scrambling to the door embarrassed, mumbling a quick apology on her way out. 
Smart woman, you thought. 
You looked at each other in silence. You took him all in. The ruffled hair, the faint hickey on the side of his jaw, the same black button-ups he wore to the club yesterday. 
Kuroo did the same. You standing across the room, dwarfed in a shirt he bought at nationals, a thousand hurts and emotions in your big tired eyes. 
You broke the silence first, too shocked and hurt to even register what had happened five minutes again. 
“I’m leaving.” 
“Y/N wait...” he reached for your hand and pulled you close. You recoiled as soon as you smelled the cheap perfume intertwined with the same whiskey he’s taken a like to after high school. 
“please I can explain.” He search your eyes desperately. 
You shook his hands off yours and quickly gathered your stuff. 
“I’m leaving...”
He cut you off before you could finish, “yeah I heard the first time, please just give me a chance to explain.” 
“you.” 
The shook on his face made it hard to look at him. You cleared your throat. 
“I’m leaving you”. 
You rushed past him, but not before he caught the glimpse of tears running down your cheeks. 
You realized Kuroo was like a bad shot of whiskey, burning, yet all signs of the sweet aftertaste disappearing. 
340 notes · View notes
castexpectopatronum · 3 years ago
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Liquid Amber - Part II [Remus Lupin x Reader Imagine]
Summary: You had been crushing on Remus Lupin for an eternity when you finally decided to ask him out. However, things do not go as planned and you remain wondering just what exactly is going on with this boy.
word count: 1.6k
trigger warnings: none
notes: apparently this got deleted, so i’m reuploading it
Masterlist
“... and I really don’t know if I should have continued with Divination because on the one hand, sure it’s a fascinating subject but on the other hand, Professor Hartshorn is so incredibly ridiculous, you should’ve heard her yesterday- (Y/N), are you listening to me?”
At once, you snapped out of the daze you had been in and looked at your friend who was eying you with a bemused expression.
“Still thinking about him,  are you?”
Sighing deeply, you hunched forwards and rubbed your eyes, utterly exasperated – from both, your work and mind. “Sorry, I just... I can’t get him out of my head, no matter what I do.” She smiled. “No worries, (y/n). We’ve all been through that phase. Probably everbody has that one crush they will never forget. It’s normal.”
“Normal or not, it bloody sucks,” you grumbled, leaning back in the armchair. The two of you were currently sitting in your common room, occuping an entire table with your school work. Quills, parchment and half-empty ink bottles littered the entire surface and the books you didn’t necessarily need had already been banished onto the floor where they were stacked into a dangerously lose pile. But as long as they didn’t fall into the fireplace, it didn’t bother either of you.
A huge yawn escaped your mouth and in a rather half-hearted attempt to be productive, you threw a glance at the essay you were currently working on. Once again, it was for your potions class. Like the time you had gathered all of your courage to ask out Remus Lupin but had been turned down and had felt absolutely humiliated for the remainder of the week. Even now, you still had problems looking him in the eye but as Remus was apparenly determined never to speak with you again, it did not cause you a lot of trouble.
Picking up your quill again only to twirl it in between your fingers, you wondered wether Remus was purposely avoiding you. You wouldn’t be surprised if that were he case; he had looked quite constipated when you had asked him if he wanted to go out with you.
Your stomach tightened unpleasently. If you had known of Remus’ profound aversion to go out on a date with you, you wouldn’t have approached him in the first place. You hadn’t planned for him to get into that kind of rotten situation. Maybe you should go and apologise to him. Was that something you had to do?
It had started to rain; heavy drops were whipping against the window and together with the occasional scratching of your friend’s quill made you fall into a hypnotised        state while you stared into the depths of the crackling fire.
”You’re not going to finish that this evening, are you?”
You simply shook your head, not bothering to raise your eyes.
Your friend sighed deeply and rolled up her parchment. “Shall we head to bed, then? I’m finished, anyways.” She groaned loudly as she stretched in her armchair, finally educing a small smile from you.
“Yeah, good idea. Let’s go to sleep.”
One day, you would be able to look back at this and laugh about it. Your first heartbreak was a good story to tell your grandchildren. And that, my dear, is how the first bloke I ever fell in love with rejected me, which is great, though, because if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have married your grandfather and you would never have been born.
Sadly, however, you were far from getting grey hair and wrinkles and telling bed time stories to your children’s children, so you had to endure sitting in class behind Remus and starring at his stupid brown hair which looked so wonderfully soft that you felt the strong urge to run your fingers through it every time your gaze fell upon it.
And thus, you came to the terribly depressing conclusion that you hated your life. But – of course – you found yourself, once again, unable to despise the person that made your life such a horrible mess. Which made it an even more horrible, messier mess.
The ringing bell, which marked the end of the school day, interrupted your flow of thoughts and you quickly gathered your things together, glad for the opportunity to escape.
While walking back to your common room – you avoided the library as much as you could – you again considered approaching Remus to talk things out. You were still unsure wether or not you owed him an apology, and anyway, you didn’t want things to be awkward between the two of you.
Not that you had had many opportunities to become aware of said awkwardness – Remus was definitely avoiding you.
A sigh escaped you, one in a line of many others since that faithful day in the library, and you tried to focus on all the homework and revision you had to do for today. Going over all of your plans in your head, you turned around the corner-
-and collided straight with another person, causing all of the books in both of your hands to fall and spread onto the ground.
The clash’s force made you stumble several steps backwards, thankfully though you managed to keep your balance, arms waving around.
“Shit, sorry, mate, are you okay?” Once you’ve managed to get a stable footing, you lifted your gaze from the stone floor and looked directly into the face of Remus Lupin.
All colour drained from your cheeks.
“Oh. Hi, Remus. Didn’t see ya there.” You laughed forcefully.
Remus looked at you with a startled expression that quickly turned into one of clear uncomfort.
“Hello, (y/n),” he muttered quietly.
In a desperate attempt to chase away the heavy silence lying between the both of you, you hurriedly gathered up the school books that were scattered around on the stone floor.  The two of you stood there in awkward silence, clutching your books to your chests. He was expertedly avoiding your eyes while you were desperately trying to find the right words to say.
Surprisingly though, it was Remus who first raised his voice,
“Listen, (y/n), I need to go, so...”
“Remus-”
“I forgot something in the library-” He tried to quickly walk past you but you seized his arm to hold him back. The look he gave you, however, was one of slight surprise and discomfort.
“I’m sorry,” you said, unable to hide the sorrow in your eyes. “Listen, I never...” You interrupted yourself, an uneasy feeling spreading throughout your stomach. “When I asked you out, I never intended on making you feel uncomfortable. I just ... I just wanted to know if I stood a chance. You really don’t have to feel guilty for anything – and I’m sorry for having put you in this situation.” You licked your lips nervously and let go of his sleeve. “That’s it. I just wanted to apologise. Sorry for bothering you.”
Remus did not say anything in your defense. Nor did he say anything to blame you. He did, in fact, not say anything at all. He simply stared at you, his brown eyes almost burning a hole into your skull. As you looked into his piercing eyes, finding yourself unable to turn you gaze away from them, your heart forgot how to beat.
“Remus?” It was no more than a breath, barely even a whisper, but it was enough to snap him out of his daze. He blinked a few times, then took a hasty step back and cleared his throat. You took a shaky breath – you hadn’t even realised you were holding it.
“I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you,” he said hoarsely, looking at the stone floor instead of meeting your eyes. “Believe me, that wasn’t my intention.”
Your face softened. “I know you didn’t want to hurt me, Remus,” you whispered. “I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He lifted his head slightly but then changed his mind and continued to stare at the ground. “Me turning you down... That had nothing to do with you.”
You took a step back and furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean? Of course it had something to do with me.”
Remus pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. “No, (y/n), it didn’t. Please believe me.”
You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out of it. Remus sighed.
“(Y/N), I would have rejected any girl that had been in your place.”
Frowning, you attempted to speak – then you understood. “Oh! Merlin, I am so sorry – I didn’t know you fancy boys. Nobody told me.”
Abruptly, Remus lifted his head and gave you a startled look. “Wha- No, (y/n), I’m not gay.”
“Remus, that really isn’t something you have to be ashamed of, no matter what anybody says-”
“I am not gay!”
You paused. “Alright... Then what is the problem?”
Remus attempted to say something but then changed his mind and pressed his lips together. He looked like he regretted ever bumping into you.
As you examined his face and the tense expression upon it, you sighed in defeat. “You know what, forget it. I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry for what happened back in the library.” A forced smile appeared on your face as you turned to leave. You felt Remus’ burning eyes on you until you had reached the end of the corridor, leaving you more confused than ever before.
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fortunatelyfresco · 4 years ago
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A Holistic Integration of Type 1 Narcolepsy into the Reading of Moist von Lipwig
Literary Interpretation, Disability, and Finding Yourself Between the Lines
As it goes, "I wrote this for me, but you can read it if you want." It might be a fun ride for anyone who is very interested in Moist von Lipwig, or narcolepsy, or both, and/or anyone who enjoys collecting small details from within a body of work and arranging them into threads that are supportable by the text, without being actually suggested by it.
Personally, I find it very interesting to read the meta behind different headcanons, and see how creators can unintentionally write a character who fits certain criteria. There are only so many traits, after all, and some of them tend to travel in groups! Humans are pattern seekers, etc etc.
The first step of reading Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic is wanting to read Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic. Being narcoleptic myself and relating heavily to Moist, this step was very easy. I invite you to take my hand and come along, at least briefly, if you were interested enough to click the readmore.
Once you have taken that step, things start falling into place. At least they do if you're intimately familiar with narcolepsy, or if you first learn about it in detail through, for instance, a Tumblr post with an agenda :)
I'll break this down symptom by symptom, citing only the ones I both have personal experience with and see textual support for.
I'll be using OverDrive's search function to catalogue "evidence" in (the American editions of) Going Postal, Making Money, and Raising Steam, so I might miss passages that don't use certain keywords.
Please take any statements along the lines of "being narcoleptic means X" with a huge grain of salt. Sometimes it's just more succinct. Narcolepsy can manifest in many different ways, and is still being actively studied. Don't base your entire understanding of it on a fandom essay I wrote to cope with the crushing pressures of capitalism. I have not even fully read the scientific studies linked here as sources.
Here we go! Spoilers abound.
I. Excessive Daytime Sleepiness (EDS) and sleep attacks.
Being narcoleptic means (salt now, please) that your brain does not get adequate rest while you sleep, no matter how much you sleep. This is because of a disturbance in the order and length of REM and NREM sleep phases. This leads to constant exhaustion. Some sources describe narcoleptic EDS as "comparable to [the sleepiness] experienced by a healthy individual who has been sleep-deprived continuously for 48–72 hours."
(Source.)
Sleep attacks can come on gradually or suddenly. In my case, I become irritable and easily overwhelmed, and nothing matters except finding a place to lie down. A more severe attack, under the right circumstances, can put me to sleep while I'm actively trying to stay awake and engaged.
Moist refers to 6:45 am as "still nighttime." He is "allergic to the concept of two seven o'clocks in one day" and is "not good at early mornings," and the narration even cites this as "one of the advantages of a life of crime; you didn't have to get up until other people had got the streets aired."
In Going Postal, he repeatedly falls asleep at his desk. I can only find two instances, but the first one describes it as having happened "again," so it happens at least three times over the course of one week. Both of the times I found were after Mr. Pump cleared his apartment, giving him access to a bed, and I can't find any reference to the fire destroying it—just that his office is "missing the whole of one wall." His presumably wooden desk is still intact, even, just "charred."
There's also no build-up either time. No direct narration of the time right before he falls asleep, just retroactive accounting for it.
Which is primarily a function of stories not showing us every boring second, and secondarily one of the smaller ways we're shown Moist being overwhelmed and racing to keep up with himself, but tertiarily it's a great set dressing if you've already decided he's narcoleptic. Sometimes sleep is just a thing that happens, without any deliberate transition. Sometimes you sit down to catch your breath or get some paperwork done, and wake up several hours later.
I've found only one example in GP of Moist waking up in his actual bed at the post office: the morning after being possessed by all the undelivered letters. Presumably either they put him there, or Mr. Pump did.
There are two points in Making Money where Moist, in an effort to be a comforting and/or guiding hand, advises people to get some sleep. First Owlswick Jenkins, and then one of the clerks (Robert) who is worried about Mr. Bent.
I take the optimistic view that this is Moist genuinely caring about these people, not just trying to get them to do what he wants. He has always done some combination of those things (GP opens with him having befriended his jailers, after all), but there's definitely a thread of him learning to treat both himself and those around him more like real people. (See also.)
Looking at this thread through narcolepsy-colored lenses, you get Moist perhaps drawing from his own experiences in an effort to be helpful. In Owlswick or Robert's position, what is something he would want to hear from the man currently in charge of his fate, or at least his job? "Get some sleep."
If we accept this as a pattern, it culminates in Raising Steam, when Moist starts to worry about "Dick Simnel and his band of overworked engineers," fixating particularly on their lack of sleep.
What sleep they got was in sleeping bags, curled up on carriage seats, eating but not eating well, just driven by their watches and their desire to keep the train going.
[...]
"People are going to die if we push them any further," he said to Dick. "You lot would rather work than sleep!"
[...]
The young man swayed in front of him and Moist's tone became gentle. "And I see now that part of my job is to tell you that you need some rest. You've run out of steam, Dick. Look, we're well on the way to Uberwald now, and while it's daylight and we're out of the mountains it's going to be the least risky time to run with minimum crew. We're all going to need our wits about us when we get near the pass. Surely you can take some rest?"
Simnel blinked as if he'd not seen Moist the first time, and said, "Yes, you're right."
And Moist could hear the slurring in the young man's speech, caught him before he fell and dragged him into a sleeping compartment, put him to bed, and noted that the engineer didn't so much fall asleep as somehow flow into it.
Moist then recruits Vimes to help him talk the rest of the engineers into getting some rest. The two of them briefly commiserate about people not realizing how important it is.
"I have to teach that to young coppers. Treasure a night's rest, I always say. Take a nap whenever you can."
"Very good."
II. Insomnia.
This is a lesser-known but very common symptom of narcolepsy. Or a comorbidity, depending on how you look at it. It seems counterintuitive if narcolepsy has been presented to you as "sleeping all the time," but it makes sense once you know it's really a matter of disruption in the brain's ability to regulate sleep cycles.
The case for this symptom is flimsier, and I fully admit I'm just reading my own experience into it. But here are two excerpts from Going Postal that I find quite suitable for my sleepy agenda:
1. "A man of affairs such as he had to learn to sleep in all kinds of situations, often while mobs were looking for him a wall's thickness away."
I latched hard onto this detail the first time I read GP.
At my worst, I could not get more than a couple hours of sleep in my bed. I kept taking naps in the bath because it was one of the few places I could sleep. It seemed to fulfill some of the criteria (isolation, temperature control, etc) that my brain demanded in exchange for playing nice.
We're told over and over again, throughout Moist's books, that he functions best under pressure.
(Brief aside: This is often cited as a reason to interpret Moist as having ADHD, which I'm also fully on board with. Not coincidentally, narcolepsy and ADHD share a few symptoms, have a notable comorbidity rate, and are treated with some of the same medications. Source.)
So again, if you're already inclined to read Moist as narcoleptic, the following is an easy jump:
"Moist thinks he's good at sleeping in strange places under strange circumstances. This is because A) his basis for comparison is a disordered attempt to sleep in normal places under normal circumstances, B) something about danger satisfies his brain into running more smoothly, and C) he's a resourceful person who is 'not given to introspection,' and so is less likely to wonder why his body demands sleep at strange times and more likely to focus on finding a place for that sleep to happen, and chalk this up later as a skill."
And returning briefly to EDS: Why would someone like Moist waste time finding a safe place to sleep while people are actively trying to kill him? At the beginning of GP, he leaves Vetinari's office and immediately goes on the run. In multiple books, when he feels threatened, his brain instinctively launches into complex escape plans. We see him successfully blend into an Ankh-Morpork crowd at least once after becoming a public figure.
So why bother? After all, a safe place to sleep is also a safe place to change clothes, or at least remove whatever distinguishing features he's given himself. Why wouldn't he just become someone else and leave town immediately?
The obvious answer is that sometimes things just happen, and an author doesn't need to know or explain every single detail of a character's past.
I would suggest, though, that one of those things might be Moist reaching a point where sleep is just not optional. A point where he not only doesn't, but can't, care about anything else. Where he is too tired to think straight, too tired to talk his way out of trouble, too tired to even contemplate the long journey from one town to the next.
2. "Moist knew he ought to get some sleep, but he had to be there, too, alive and sparkling."
Sometimes (especially in combination with underlying mental health issues) narcoleptic sleep deprivation can bypass everything I've described so far, and lead straight into a manic state. You won't necessarily find that on Google, but it's been my experience.
That's obviously not what the text is implying. "Alive and sparkling" is just a very relatable description. And we do often see Moist getting away from himself, speaking without thinking, making absurd promises that he justifies immediately afterwards as Just Part Of Being Him, always raising the stakes.
And here are a couple of excerpts from Raising Steam that could be interpreted as Moist being a light sleeper, AKA struggling to get deep sleep:
1. "And slowly Moist shut down, although a part of him was always listening to the rhythm of the rails, listening in his sleep, like a sailor listening to the sounds of the sea."
2. "All Moist's life he'd managed to find a way of sleeping in just about every circumstance and, besides, the guard's van was somehow the hub of the train; and although he didn't know how he did it, he always managed to sleep with half of one ear open."
Moist is exactly the kind of opportunist to see that as a useful tool, isn't he?
III. Hypnagogic and Hypnopompic Hallucinations.
These are hallucinations that come on as you're falling asleep or waking up. They can also happen during REM intrusions while you're awake. My most memorable ones include piano notes, someone calling my name, being trapped in the waves of a large body of water, and a huge truck going over a guard rail and tumbling down a hill. These are often, but not always, accompanied by sleep paralysis (and sleep paralysis is often, but not always, accompanied by hallucinations).
In GP, Moist casually cites his own hallucinations as proof that what is happening at the post office is not one.
"They're all alive! And angry! They talk! It was not a hallucination! I've had hallucinations and they don't hurt!"
Obviously that's not true for everyone, but it's true for Moist, and he has enough experience that he immediately recognizes the difference.
At one point while awake, Moist "[snaps] out of a dream of chandeliers" to realize someone has approached him to talk, while he was busy having visions of what the post office used to look like/could look like again.
Now, that's cheating, because we're probably supposed to assume it's a side effect of being possessed, but... I'm putting it here anyway.
There is also perhaps a case to be made for the tendency of Moist's internal monologue to lapse into extremely specific and prolonged hypotheticals. The lines between hallucinations, waking dreams, and "regular" daydreams have always been very blurry to me. I'm especially curious about the example at the end of Going Postal, which goes like this:
"Look, I know what I'm like," he said. "I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I just wanted to prove to myself I'm not like Gilt. More than a hammer, you understand? But I'm still a fraud by trade. I thought you knew that. I can fake sincerity so well that even I can't tell. I mess with people's heads—"
"You're fooling no one but yourself," said Miss Dearheart, and reached for his hand.
Moist shook her off, and ran out of the building, out of the city, and back to his old life, or lives, always moving on, selling glass as diamond, but somehow it just didn't seem to work anymore, the flair wasn't there, the fun had dropped out of it, even the cards didn't seem to work for him, the money ran out, and one winter in some inn that was no more than a slum he turned his face to the wall—
And an angel appeared.
"What just happened?" said Miss Dearheart.
Perhaps you do get two...
"Only a passing thought," said Moist.
In-universe... what is Adora reacting to? What did just happen? The fact that these incidents are not isolated to Going Postal is a point against it being some sort of literal timeline divergence caused by The Spirit Of The Post.
So maybe Moist visibly zoned out. Maybe he had some kind of minor but noticeable cataplexy attack (more on those later) as part of a REM intrusion, brought on by the intense emotions he's currently struggling with.
IV. Vivid Dreams.
Again, at least some of this is probably supposed to be part of the possession, but I've been professionally projecting myself onto the surreal dreams of magically afflicted characters for years. Do try this at home.
1. "Moist dreamed of bottled wizards, all shouting his name. In the best tradition of awaking from a nightmare, the voices gradually became one voice, which turned out to be the voice of Mr. Pump, who was shaking him."
2. Moist is uneasy about the Smoking Gnu's plan, and then he has an extremely detailed dream about the Grand Trunk burning down.
This culminates in "Moist awoke, the Grand Trunk burning in his head," followed by a paragraph of him thinking things through and starting to form his own alternative plan, followed immediately by "Moist awoke. He was at his desk, and someone had put a pillow under his head."
So he fell asleep at his desk, woke up from a vivid nightmare, was awake just long enough for a coherent train of thought, and then passed back out. Which once again is not "proof" of anything, but fits the predetermined interpretation like a glove.
V. Cataplexy.
Cataplexy is a sudden loss of muscle control, usually triggered by strong emotions. This is thought to be a facet of REM intrusion—waking instances of the atonia that is meant to stop us from acting out our dreams.
The most well-known manifestation is laughter making your knees buckle, but it's not always that severe. My own attacks range from facial twitching, usually when I'm angry or otherwise extremely upset, to all-over weakness/immobilization and near-collapse when I laugh. My knees have fully buckled once or twice.
This is the biggest stretch. This is the one that is absolutely only there if you've already decided to read entire novels between the lines. It's also not even necessary for the broader headcanon; plenty of people have narcolepsy without cataplexy (or such mild cataplexy that it's never noticeable, or very delayed onset, etc).
However. I am doing this for fun. So I want him to have it. It's also become a major part of how I imagine Moist engaging with emotion, and I'd like to make a case for that.
There are a few scattered references to Moist's legs shaking, or being unsteady, or outright giving way, but there's usually an external physical reason, and/or enough psychological shock to justify it without a medical condition.
The most compelling example I've found so far comes from Moist and Adora's conversation about people expecting Moist to deliver letters to the gods.
"I never promised to—"
"You promised to when you sold them the stamps!"
Moist almost fell off his chair. She'd wielded the sentence like a fist.
"And it'll give them hope," she added, rather more quietly.
"False hope," said Moist, struggling upright.
"Almost fell off his chair" at first sounds like casual hyperbole, but then "struggling upright" implies it was a bit more literal. It's also an accurate description of me recovering from my more severe attacks, supporting myself on a wall or my spouse, or pushing myself up if I've fallen over in bed.
That happens to me multiple times per day, by the way. It doesn't bother me, and I didn't realize there was anything unusual about it for a long time. I barely think about it, except to fondly note that my spouse is good at making me laugh.
Which is to say, even severe cataplexy is not always noticeable or debilitating. Sometimes it absolutely is! It can be downright dangerous, depending on where you are, what you're doing, and whether you have any other conditions it might exacerbate. I don't want to undermine that.
I am just hell-bent on justifying the idea that this fictional character could have repeated attacks throughout the canonical narrative that are so routine they don't merit an explanation, or even a description. Especially for someone who is used to hiding his few distinguishing features behind false ones that are much more memorable. (See also.)
(That link goes to my own fanfic. Sorry.)
On the milder side, between Going Postal and Making Money, there are three instances of Moist's mouth "dropping open" when he's shocked, upset, confused, or some combination of the three. This is the kind of thing that shows up a lot in fiction, but rarely happens so literally in real life.
(There's technically a fourth instance, but I'm not counting it because it seems to be a deliberate choice on his part to convey surprise.)
And then there's laughter. Or rather, there isn't. I could be missing something, but I've searched all three books for instances of laughter and various synonyms (not counting spoken "Ha!"s), and what I've come up with is:
Moist laughs once in Going Postal, when he receives the assignment for the race to Genua.
Two packages were handed over. Moist undid his, and burst out laughing.
There's also an instance earlier in the book where Moist nearly "burst[s] out laughing."
I find the specifics here interesting, and, for our purposes, fortuitous. Cataplexy is complicated and presents differently for everyone. In my case, when laughter triggers an attack, one of the effects (which is sometimes also a cause) is that I laugh very hard, with little or no control. "Burst out laughing" is quite apt.
Let's move on to Making Money, and start with a quick tangent:
Mr. Bent explains that he has no sense of humor due to a medical condition, and that he isn't upset about this and doesn't understand why people feel sorry for him.
Moist immediately starts in with "Have you tried—" before getting cut off by the frustrated Bent.
Out-of-universe, "Have you tried" is such a well-known refrain to anyone with an incurable condition, I'm not at all surprised to find it in a book written by someone who had at least begun the process that would lead to a diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer's. And Pratchett has certainly never shied away from portraying ignorance in his protagonists.
In-universe, it feels a little odd. Moist's tongue runs away from him all the time, but usually in the form of making ridiculous claims or impossible promises. Moist's entire stock-in-trade is People Skills, and it feels strange for him to make this kind of mistake immediately after being told Mr. Bent is not looking for solutions.
But if one were reading with, for instance, the idea in mind that Moist himself has an incurable condition related to laughter and is enthusiastic about, but still relatively new to, the practice of drawing on his own experiences to help people... it is easy to imagine the gears in his head turning the wrong way, superimposing those experiences over the tail end of Mr. Bent's explanation. Disabled people are not immune to these well-meaning pitfalls.
There is another Mr. Bent moment that I want to discuss, but we'll circle back around to it later.
I found two instances of Moist himself laughing in MM.
1. "He said it with a laugh, to lighten the mood a little."
This is deliberate laughter, employed as a social tactic. A polite chuckle, probably. Not the sort of thing that generally triggers cataplexy.
2. "Moist started to laugh, and stopped at the sight of her grave expression."
The first and only involuntary laugh in MM. It doesn't always trigger attacks...
Which brings us to Raising Steam. Compared to the first two books, Moist laughs a lot here. I count nine instances. Two of them are "burst out laughing"s, a couple include him as part of a group, some of it comes off as deliberate, and some of it doesn't.
I've always seen a lot of... rage in Raising Steam. Combing through it for laughter, I realized Moist's emotions in general are much closer to the surface here, and he's much less concerned about letting people see them. He laughs with friends and acquaintances, he cries in front of strangers, he shouts at Harry King, he has that entire conversation with Dick that boils down to "I'm very worried about you," etc.
Opinions vary wildly and sharply on Raising Steam. I have my own hangups with it, as I do with most books in the series. (Every time I make a new Discworld post, Tumblr passive-aggressively suggests the tag "my kingdom for a discworld character who is normal about women and other species.")
But I like this particular change in Moist, and I choose to see it as character development. He's trading in the professional detachment of a conman for the ability to grow into himself as a person and make meaningful connections.
So, what does that have to do with cataplexy? A lot.
I don't want to get too maudlin, so I'll just say I have plenty of personal experience with emotional repression masking cataplexy symptoms. And so, I believe, does the version of Moist we've put together over the course of this post.
Which brings us back to Making Money, and Mr. Bent. He says something about Moist that I find very interesting: "I do not trust those who laugh too easily."
Unless I've missed something, at that point in the book, Moist has never actually laughed in front of him. And Mr. Bent is a man who pays very close attention to details.
So, what is the in-universe explanation for this? I'd like to propose that Moist is very skilled at seeming to laugh, without actually laughing. He smiles, he's friendly, and he makes other people laugh, which is another thing Bent dislikes about him. He gives the impression of being someone who laughs a lot. (He certainly left that impression on me; I was very surprised by the lack of examples in the first two books.)
Even staying strictly within the bounds of canon, it's easy to imagine why this might have become part of Moist's camouflage in his previous life. He wasn't looking to get attached to anyone, and he didn't want anyone getting inside his head. Engaging with people genuinely enough to laugh at their jokes would run counter to both of those things, but some of his personas still needed to come off as friendly and sociable.
Still working within the canon, it makes sense to assume he's similarly distanced himself from emotion in general. He sits in a cell for several weeks without truly believing he's going to die. He's bewildered when Mr. Pump points out that his schemes have hurt innocent people. He has no idea what to do with his feelings for Adora. Etc.
Interpreting Moist as having cataplexy adds an extra element of danger. Moist thrives on danger, but there's a difference between the thrill of a con and the threat of sudden, uncontrollable displays of vulnerability. And so it becomes even easier to see him stifling his own emotional capacity.*
We meet Moist at a moment of great upheaval. He is forcibly removed from his cocoon of false identities, and pushed out into the world as himself. And we are shown and told throughout Going Postal that he does not know how to be himself. (See also.)
He is repeatedly stymied by his own emotions. He gets tongue-tied and confused around Adora, he snaps at Mr. Pump, he lashes out at Mr. Groat, he gets lost in school flashbacks when he meets Miss Maccalariat. This thread continues in Making Money, where the sudden reappearance of Cribbins immediately rattles him into making an uncharacteristic mistake.
I called him Cribbins! Just then! I called him Cribbins! Did he tell me his name? Did he notice? He must have noticed!
Later in the same book, Moist misses a crucial opportunity to run damage control on the bank's public image... because he's excited to see Adora.
The Moist of GP and MM is not used to feeling things so deeply. It throws him off his game. I'm not at all suggesting cataplexy is the only (or even primary) reason for that, but I do think there's room for it on both sides of the cause and effect equation.
With or without the cataplexy, I find Moist's relative emotional openness in Raising Steam... really nice. (It's a work in progress. He's still getting a handle on anger.)
Cataplexy just adds another dimension. A physical manifestation of emotional vulnerability, which would have been especially untenable for a teenager on the run. Just one more facet of the real, human, fallible Moist von Lipwig who spent years buried beneath Albert Spangler and all the rest.
Another piece of himself that Moist is growing to understand and accept, as he learns to more comfortably be himself.
The Moist of Going Postal runs into a burning building to save lives without fully understanding why he wants to, and justifies it on the fly as an essential part of the role he's trying to play.
The Moist of Raising Steam mindlessly throws himself under a train to save two children, and then blows up at Harry King about the lack of safety regulations. Freshly traumatized by the murder of several railway workers and his own violent, vengeful response to it, he still offers, in the face of Harry's own grief, to be the one to inform their families. On a long and dangerous journey with plenty of moving parts to think about, he worries about Dick Simnel and the other engineers, and pushes them to take better care of themselves.
He also meets a bunch of kids who nearly derailed a train as part of a childish scheme. His admonishment is startlingly vivid.
"Can you imagine a railway accident? The screaming of the rails and the people inside and the explosion that scythes the countryside around when the boiler bursts? And you, little girl, and your little friends, would have done all that. Killed a trainload of people."
[...]
"I'll square this with the engine driver, but if I was you I'd get my pencil and turn any clever ideas you have like this into a book or two. Those penny dreadfuls are all the rage in the railway bookshops."
Maybe what he is also saying, between the lines, is:
I left home at 14 and began a life of smoke and mirrors. I was empty inside, and I thought everyone else was, too. It was all fun and games, and then a man made of clay told me I was killing people. Nip it in the bud, child. Write books.
------------
*There are studies suggesting that in addition to deliberately employed "tricks," people with cataplexy may experience physiological reactions in the brain meant to inhibit laughter. (Source 1, Source 2.)
Most of the information here is way over my head, but that second link also says "one region of the brain called the zona incerta (meaning 'zone of uncertainty') was only activated during laughter in people with narcolepsy, not in controls. Research on the zona incerta in animals suggests that it also helps to control fear-associated behavior."
The linked article about that (https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-018-03581-6) is also over my head, but I would certainly describe Moist von Lipwig as having unusual fear responses.**
**Narcolepsy is a fun roller-coaster ride of constant scientific discoveries about exactly which parts of your brain are paying too much attention, not paying enough attention, or trying to eat each other.
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tloujm · 3 years ago
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Part XXVI: Giving Grief
Author’s Notes: This is the first chapter I’ve posted in months (literally since April). I don’t know if this is a full comeback. I have a few chapters in the drafts that need to be edited and formatted for posting but after that, I still plan on continuing the series bc my plan was always have a long fic. With no new content after part II of the game was released, my interest in the fandom waned but was always there. Now with HBO creating a show based off the game, as well as me being apart of the Pedro Pascal fandom, I think I will soon become more consistent in posting as new content gets released. I will say that at least half of what appeals to me for Joel is Troy Baker’s voice and while I love Pedro’s voice too, I know it won’t be the same. I still think Pedro will do the voice justice bc he can do a damn fine country accent as seen in the movie Prospect on Netflix. If you’re a fan of his and have Netflix, please go watch it!
Genre: Angst and Fluff
Summary: You and Joel reconcile and bond over Ellie and Sarah. 
Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Joel waited for you to come home. He paced back and forth in the kitchen switching from holding the card and setting it down on the counter. He was eager to talk to you about this new revelation partly because he was nervous to have the other conversation with you. After a while of calming his nerves down, you still hadn’t come home. The sun had set an hour ago and Joel was ready to throw on his boots and go looking for you. 
Just as he laced them up, the front door opened. You walked in and immediately stopped because his body blocked you from walking in the house further. 
“Going somewhere?” You asked as you slid past him. He was a grown man and could do what he wanted, but the thought of him leaving to go do other things before the issue between you was resolved upset you. 
He reached back down to unlace his boots. “Not anymore. I was ‘bout to head out and find you.”
“Why?” You asked dryly.
“I’d been waiting on you to come home for a couple of hours. We gotta talk.”
“You’re right, we do. I was helping Wendy walk the kids home from the daycare; that’s what held me up. I’m here now, though.” You leaned against the back of the couch and crossed your arms. The stance you took reminded you of what Joel would do.
He walked into the kitchen and came back. “Kiddo made this for us.”
You took it in your hands. “When did she have time to make this?” He shrugged. Your fingers brushed across the drawing of the hat before finally opening it. “Oh my God.” She looked at you for a split second before looking back down at her signature. “Her name has been ‘Ellie’ the whole time.”
“I know.” He commented. 
“She never said anything. All of us have asked her.”
“Technically, she still hasn’t spoken her name, but I guess she wasn’t ready for that.”
“She wasn’t ready to let anybody in.” You said. He nodded in agreement.
“Until now.” He walked up to you and pointed to her name on the card. “She’s doing so good, this Ellie. I can only try to imagine the horrors that she’s seen out in the world before she came to Jackson, but whatever happened out there, it led her to us. I’m...It’s just nice to see her opening up to this place.”
You understood what he was trying to say. “Yeah, I’m proud of her too.” You walked past him and into the kitchen to hang the card on the refrigerator. Joel followed. This time, his arms were crossed.
“(Y/N), I meant it when I said I was sorry back there. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it.” You rebutted.
“I was upset with you because I expected you to react the same as me when Ellie climbed up that T-Rex, but I don’t want a carbon copy of myself. I love you and want to have a family with you because you are wise beyond your years, confident even if you don’t always think so, responsible even for things that aren’t your responsibility and most importantly, you’re level headedness. Where I have a tendency to lose my cool in certain situations, you are guided by this calm...patient sense of will that I envy.” He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, giving you the opportunity to say something. Seeing that you were still soaking in his words, he continued. “You’ll be a great mother. I saw it in the gentle way you juggled all those kids at the daycare. I saw it in the way you took care of Ellie the first day she came here. You’ll see though, if it’s meant for us to have a baby, how difficult it is to stop worrying. It didn’t stop when Sarah....even when I tried to push those feelings away. It doesn’t stop. I know she’s not her, but it’s hard for me to just stand by and watch her do something that could hurt her.”
“I wasn’t standing by, or at least that wasn’t my intention. I wanted to give her space. She’s so delicate, or maybe that’s my problem. I shouldn’t treat her like she’s some glass figurine. I just wanted her to grow comfortable with us by trusting her. Believe me, it wasn’t easy for me to do when there was nothing personally for me to go off of, but then I thought, she’s lived out there for God knows how long by herself. She’s not only seen things but has been able to survive things. It’s hard to see how clever someone is when they won’t let you in, but I knew she had to be to have made it this far. I get it though. I’ve never been a parent. I can only sympathize with your worries. I can not empathize with you until I’ve been where you have. I’m sorry too. I could have found a way to give her space without allowing her to be in such a dangerous spot. You must be disappointed in me.”
He moved up to you and placed his hands on your shoulder. “I’m not. Look at me. I’m not disappointed in you. She was both of our responsibilities earlier.” He brought you into a tight hug. “You’re right, she is smart. She felt comfortable enough to show a side of herself that no one else has seen. You know why? ‘Cause she felt safe around us. Despite the grief she put me through, it was nice to see her so happy.”
“I know it was, wasn’t it? I can’t believe she jumped though! I didn’t think she’d go that far.”
“At the end of the day, kids will be kids. It’s not an excuse to slack off on raising ‘em, but there's just a certain wild and carefree nature that every kid has. It’s instilled in their DNA or somethin’ and then it fades away as they get older, about the time their back starts to ache.” Joel chuckled as he explained. He kissed the top of your head before pulling away to get a good look at you. He made a face as if to ask if you were ok. You nodded. He took your hand and pulled you into the living room. You sat down next to him. “She reminds me of Sarah sometimes. Ellie’s about the same age as her. She ran me through the ringer, raising that one.” He chuckled at the memories. “I wouldn’t trade it in for the world, being her dad, but you shoulda seen the amount of grief she put me through. Especially being a single parent.” He wiped his hand across his face, letting it linger along the length of his neck. “One time, she snuck off to some skate park when I told her no. She was in this skateboarding phase. I bought her a customized skateboard for her birthday and she would practice using it up and down the driveway. She had barely learned that little flippy trick when she asked me to take her to the skate park. I told her no because it looked like it was for experienced skaters. I wanted her to practice more first. To say the least, she was mad at me. She told me she was staying after school for the science club, but she really went to the skate park with some friends. By the time I figured out where she was, I found her lying in the grass, holding her arm in pain. Turned out she had a hairline fracture in her...radius?” He pointed to the bone on his arm. You nodded that it was in fact called radius. “I grounded her for lying to me, but sometimes I wonder if I should have taken her to the park. I mean I’m no expert on skateboarding, but at least I could have been there to supervise; make sure she wasn’t on one of those tough looking ramps.”
“Did you ever take her skateboarding after she healed up?”
“After the cast came off, she switched interests to soccer. I installed a shelf on one of her walls to hang the skateboard on. Better that than being stuffed under her bed. Soccer was her life though. She made new friends from the team, won titles, learned tricks with the ball. Me and Tommy were regulars at her games. I was...am proud of her.”
You smiled as you envisioned his memories. “Did she give you grief with that as well?”
He nodded in an exaggerated way. “Oh yeah, but I’m sure I used to give her grief too.” You lifted your eyebrows with desire for him to elaborate. “I may or may not have argued with the coach and ref on a few occasions regarding plays.”
“You never dated any of the soccer moms?” You teased.
He scoffed. “Most of them were married and the ones who weren’t, I sent Tommy’s way instead. He wasn’t mad at it.” The two of you chuckled. “I did flirt with a few, married or not, so I could get my hands on some of their homemade baked goods.”
“I was under the assumption that soccer moms made food for everyone.”
“They did, but I still wanted a few more cupcakes for the ride home.” He admitted as you laughed. “Listen, I had a busy life. I didn’t have much time to hone my baking skills, so it was nice to be able to have homemade cakes and cookies for a change.
“Well, if you wanted cookies, that’s all you had to say! I can show you how to bake right now.”
“It’s late.” He reasoned.
“It’s never too late to feed your sweet tooth.” You rebutted as you pulled him back into the kitchen.
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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago
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Humans are Space Orcs, “I Have Seen.”
Wrote something easy and more similar to my original stories today. I hope you like it. 
I have been thinking about taking a couple days off from writing these stories, since I have been working non stop on this and the book for over a year now, so I am considering taking a break for about a week so I don’t burn out. I haven’t decided yet, so we shall see, but I hope you all have a great day.
I have a job no one knows about.
I don’t think anyone would be surprised if they heard about my job. I don’t even think they would care all that much.
None of this explains why my work station is in the basement of a nondescript government bunker on a death planet…. A!36. I can’t explain why I need three codes to get into my office, or why I go through five locked doors, or why I am not allowed to tell anyone what I do on pain of termination and imprisonment. 
You would assume, perhaps that I am a spy, and involved in some covert cloak and dagger espionage against other species and nations: you would be wrong.
You might assume I am a weapons developer, but you would also be wrong.
Perhaps you think I spend my time wire-tapping on important calls between species and recording important information.
None of this is really the case.
In fact, what I do is quite safe and relatively simple, plenty of other non-humans are doing it of their own accord and plenty more humans do it on a regular basis. What I do is not illegal, it is not espionage, it wouldn’t even phase you.
If that is the case.
Why do so many of my coworkers go missing?
Why are there absent desks every few months?
Why can I not make any lasting friends?
Management always give excuses to those of us who are left.
They left for mental health reasons.
THey moved on to a different job.
They are moving up in the company.
They had to be let go.
All things generic and all things that wouldn’t generally raise suspicion… unless they happen so frequently as us.
You may be wondering at this point, what it is I do for a job.
Perhaps, you think, it is very boring and unfulfilling that I would go insane from sheer boredom.
No, I actually find my job quite interesting.
Perhaps you think my job forces me to watch very disturbing and violent things…. And I suppose that could be close to the truth, though no one forces us to watch the videos if we don’t want, and no one makes us read the material if we cannot handle it. In fact, there are those of us who specialize in that sort of thing.
I do.
I am a specialist in historical xenopsychology.
I study human history.
When I say that I study human history, I do not mean as in a passing fancy. I do not simply read their school children’s textbooks and accept everything I see as truth, no, every day , I come into work and it is my job, to learn about everything that has ever happened in human history, to the best of my ability.
It is my job to know the good, the bad, the ugly, and the monstrous.
I work from day to night, cataloguing and filling my brain with all the information I can before recording it as a lecture on aura drives, which are then stored away for future use in a deep backup system under the surface of this planet.
I have followed human history since the beginning of time.
And I have marveled at it.
Much of my research is flawed, I know. Human history has always been biased, history being shaped and molded by the winners of conflict. Much of what else I know stems primarily from scholarly work humans have done on their own species, looking back the centuries and making assumptions about what they were doing.
While this is a good insite -- humans trying to explain the behavior of other humans-- it isn’t necessarily correct.
For this reason, it is my job to study every piece of information that comes across my desk.
Due to a government agreement between the galactic assembly and the United Nations of Earth, I was given access to the rebuilt library of Alexandria and all of its electronic files which include photos and information on the original documents that they keep in sealed vaults below the library.
I have read every account of human history, and every second hand interpretation of human history that I could possibly find in my time working here.
I have read Darwin and his early theory regarding evolution. I have examined his evidence, which include images and diagrams of the human body spanning centuries. My determinations were made just the same as the rest of them. Humanity was a tree-living species that found its evolutionary niche through walking and the use of opposable thumbs.
This ability to walk, in tandem with the use of hands eventually gave rise to the slow swelling of the brain in comparison to other animals. Human evolved primitive tools, and even more primitive religions, societies and rules.
They developed art early on, painting on the walls of their caves, in the darkness of night surrounded by their fires.
I have read about their befriending of animals in that same darkness. Man’s slow molding of the wolf into the dog - a species designed specifically for the needs of man.
I have attempted to read every account of every atrocity ever inflicted on humanity.
I have read of wars, and battles, Marathon, Thermopylae, Kadesh, D-day, Vietnam, Korea, Russo-Japanese, World wars I, II, III,  and IV and the Panasian War. 
I have witnessed in images and first hand accounts the chilling discoveries of natural disasters gone back thousands of years. Pompeii, Mt. St Helens, Katrina, Tsunamis, earthquakes, the fire of london, 1887 yellow river flood, the 3130 California earthquake, and Haiti earthquakes. 
And I have studied and witnessed every atrocity man has ever committed on its own people. The Mongol hordes, the crusades, Mayan and Aztec sacrifices, The Armenian genocide, the Holocaust, mustard gas, 9/11, slavery in the America, the Trail of Tears, The Bataan Death March, the Berlin wall, Civil war, the French revolution, Nanjing, Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
I tore a hole in humanity and looked inside to see your rot. 
I study the maggots that crawl under your skin.
Don’t confuse me with someone who fears you, or is even disgusted by you. You have committed thousands of horrors, yes this is true. But humanity is not a polished gem, it is an uncut stone marred by dirt and debris, but beautiful in a way that can hardly be explained.
You scrub away the rot only to find more underneath, yet you continue to scrub, in a futile attempt to better yourselves.
It is a beautiful thing if not in vain.
I do not judge you for your crimes because I have also seen your achievements. I watched you survive  the dark ages, I learned your philosophy from the greek world which brought the beauty of democracy and equity in later forms. I watched the enlightenment of the Renaissance, and have seen your beautiful artwork from each period of time. 
I have witnessed your great nations and empires rise and fall, Assyria, Byzantine, Rome, Britain, Egypt, Mongole, Aztek, Soviet Union, The chinese Dynasties and the Communist parties. The United States, and the Asian Co-Prosperity Collective
I have seen your bravery and your loss.
I have learned about the good that walks your earth.
Humans who stood up to tyrants.
I have even examined your stories of creation, of deities who molded humans from clay or dust, watched your world come into form in seven days, or ride on the backs of giant animals. I have seen the gods gift you with fire and learned the teaching of your martyrs over the centuries. Men and women slain and stoned or pulled away by spirits. I have learned of crucifixion, death and rebirth as well as reincarnation and a return to the very fabric of the universe itself.
I see everything.
I see everything. I see it all in my dreams laid out before me like a tapestry following each woven thread through the ages. I thought if I looked back, I could know as much as I possibly could. If I dug deep enough, I would be able to see your secrets.
And I have discovered you.
I see you hiding in there.
I know what you are.
Come out, come out.
And I won’t stop until it is all over and your cities crumbled into dust and bone.
I am being called into my manager’s office. Perhaps I too am ready to go up in the company.
...
I will be back soon…
Deus 
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ravenadottir · 4 years ago
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Hear me out: headcannons about Bobby growing old with mc🥺 (I needed some fluff T-T)
no no no no no, you can’t just come in here and do this to me!! that’s so wholesome! i think i’m gonna have to divide this in decade marks, and maybe stop at the 30 year mark? i can do a part II later. 🤔
‘10 year mark’
the ‘mckenzie’ brand has expanded to restaurants, bars and bakeries all over the uk
the bars are considered a hot spots in the big cities. pictures of young ‘paisley cuddle’ are scattered on the walls, along with the pics from the villa’s parties, to set the theme
the restaurants have bobby and his experiences with famous chefs, like jake ‘sweetcheeks’ wilson, mary berry, gordon ramsey, wolfgang puck.
the bakeries however have the pictures from the time bobby went on the bake off show and won.
there’s small town models of the bakeries/restaurants that are seen as ‘family diners’
you and bobby already have two kids, 4 years apart from each other. in my head bobby is the type to have them earlier so they can live their best life together, have fun in the kitchen or in the backyard playing ball.
he loves throwing birthday parties every year, and of course, baking the cake. to which year is a different theme. “babe, you take care of the decorations and the details i’m definitely gonna forget, and me?” he puffs his chest holding a whisk. “i’m the cake guy.”
bobby is the reason why the kids love the parties so much. he’s the type of parent that goes on the slider with the kids, jumps with them in the bounce house, starts the water balloon wars…
the parents are so thankful for him since he’s pretty much the one who keeps an eye on them at all times.
usually, he’s waking up early every day because it became a habit since his hospital times. he never really shook that habit. so he prepared breakfast, takes the dog out, while you wake the kids up to eat and rush them to school
the dad that takes two different cameras and a phone to film and take pictures during his kids’ public presentations, games, recitals and science fairs “dad, one phone is enough” “yeah, but your dad needs backup! i’m from the 90′s darling. i can’t be any different” he says, shrugging with a grin.
you guys have a small house on the outskirts of glasgow or london, depending on who won the bet you had when you got married.
you’re pregnant again. entirely unplanned and now bobby can’t stop crying,. he always wanted three kids.
‘15 year mark’
a third child came three years ago, which made you consider a much more peaceful place to buy a house. and a bigger one for that matter.
bigger bakyeard means more people and their kids playing around the lawn, as bobby and gary grill sausages, making stupid jokes about it, and you and the girls have drinks shaking your heads.
you and bobby are gary’s kids’ godparents
ibrahim can’t come, he’s to busy making mad money on brand deals. noah is calming the kids down, by reading something in the living room, while bobby shakes a cocktail for the tired parents.
gary gives you a new couple of puppies, because the dog you had has unfortunately passed away. (sorry!)
your first kid is just turning 13 and being a little pain in the ass. but they like their uncles and aunties so they will actually raise their heads from *inser new device that will replace phones*
you guys travel in your car, to spend a week in cabins, fishing, playing ball, having picnics close to the lake
bobby always throws at least one of the kids in the water, before jumping in and splashing everyone. “bet you can’t do better than that, babe…” he says to you, raising his brows suggestively. “watch me, mckenzie.”
summer time and the lake became a tradition since it was the first place you and him spent a holiday alone
the employees that attend to you in hotels refer to you as “the mckenzie’s”
in the city, you have a trustworthy babysitter that will spend the night so you and bobby can have some time alone
he surprises you with dates and flowers out of nowhere
early nights are made for you and bobby to help the kids with homework
at this point, bobby is invited to be a special guest in cooking/baking competitions in the uk
and to have a “masterclass” of hiw own, where he mostly credits you for the idea of expanding, the execution of the administrative plans and how to actually expand a business. “i only do the cooking. she’s the genius behind the money.” he laughs while crossing his legs during his online course.
‘20 year mark’
kids’ sad times. graduations are happening. the youngest is entering third grade, the other one is in uni, far from home. “did you have to choose something so far from your old man?” “dad… of course! how else would i have a ‘paisley cuddle’ phase?” they respond, laughing. “i should’ve never told you thats story! now you’re having ideas!” “relax dad. everything is gonna be fine!” the middle one is entering high school and their rebellious phase.
bobby follows through with his part of the deal when you got married, by wearing something ridiculous to embarrass your kid at their graduation. “dad, you look like a hawaiian drug dealer.” “ i know,” “oh, so it wasn’t dark when you got dressed? mom!” “what can i say, your dad doesn’t care for blacks and blues.” “yeah, right…”
professionaly, bobby has a renowned signature dish, plenty of new ideas for the future, like school and courses.
the house is the same you bought five years ago, but now, it’s mostly parents getting together for barbecues, cocktails, movies and game nights
the younger children stay in the tv room upstairs
‘25 year mark’
your second child didn’t go to uni, and decided to help out on the family business. they always felt like this was the life for them and couldn’t wait to finish school to start.
bobby wanted them to go to school to learn everything they could “but dad, you didn’t, and you know so much.” “oof, they got you there, babe.”
you have a second wedding ceremony and a second honeymoon
bobby has a few grey hairs popping through his dreads
he’s still wearing colorful shirts and girls on social media call him ‘daddy’
he’s been invited to cook for the queen (yes, she’s still alive)
you see your friends a few times more a year now.
your third child is going to uni, to follow a career path you never imagined they would, but you’re proud of them
you decided to sell the house, that’s so big now, and find a smaller one that still has an extra bedroom for when your oldest comes to stay with their partner
bobby cracks dad jokes now, and according to gary, he picked them up from him “sure, gary, ‘cause you’re the only man on the planet who tells dad jokes” “stop bickering! you’re like an old married couple.” you say, slapping their arms playfully
‘30 year mark’
your first child just had their first child
“you’re a grandpa, bobs!” gary slaps him on the back, picking up a box of cigars that they will share with noah and ibrahim.
“can’t believe i’m this old.” “if you’re old, what am i?” you ask him, folding your arms on your chest. “beautiful?” he responds with a clear guilty expression.
‘things that would happen at all times during this entire journey’
bobby would sing to the kids every night
you would read them bedtime stories, taking turns to do the voices
it’s a tradition to cook together on special occasions, no matter what happens. the three kids, you and bobby would always spend the day listening to music, talking about life, slicing, sauteeing, mixing, measuring. it’s a tradition that will never die
when your grandkids come around, they will be the the ones resposible for measuring
drawings that your kids do in school akways have extra colors on bobby’s outfits. his name also has more than three colored letters
bobby has taught your kids how to play the guitar
rainy afternoons were known as “dad’s baking afternoons”
you and bobby had a hard time to find a compromise between being friends and parents.
open conversations with your kids, about everything. they knew what to expect in the world.
bobby’s parents would visit, to spend a whole weekend and share stories of his childhood, as yours would too
family vacation always had a ‘car trip and singing along to the radio’ type of tradition as well
your oldest now takes their child for family vacation in the same spot you and bobby used to
twice a year you guys rent a place for the family to have some bonding, even after they get married (or not)
“your dad is the finest pillow fort architect in the uk”
camping in the backyard when you had to cancel a trip
you’re in charge of coaching and playing sports in the back of the house while bobby relaxes under the sunlight “i was never very athletic”. he’s the empire
*these are the ones on the top of my head. i must’ve left dozens behind :/
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mexcraziness-art · 4 years ago
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Monkie Kid/JTTW OC: Xie Pingheng
Okay, so this bio is going to be pretty messy, mostly because I’m really tired these days, but also because I’m still reading Journey to the West, and still waiting on the new seasons of the show. So I can’t go into details too deeply until I find out more, this is more of a general outline of what I have in mind for her so far!
Also note: Her human disguises and personality is vastly different from her real one, there will be a whole separate reference and bio for that!
Name: Xie Pingheng (谐平衡),Chi Kaoma Hou (赤尻馬猴) Nickname: Mandy Gender: Female
Xie Pingheng, also known as the Red Bottomed Horse Monkey/Mandrill or just „Mandy”, much like Wukong, she’s one of the Four Spiritual Monkeys, see the one and only mention in Journey to the West: „The second kind is the red−rumped mandril that knows all about the Yin and the Yang and human affairs, can go into or out of anywhere, and knows how to prolong its life and avoid death.”
History:
Pingheng is the oldest out of the Spiritual Monkeys, she was born sometime during Phase II of the World, she was born from the separation of Heaven and Earth itself, representing the perfect balance of positives and negatives.
She basically grew up alongside the world coming into existence as we know it, so she soon understood the nature of existence itself, how positives and negatives make up everything in the world. Throughout her life she travelled the world, sometimes hiding, but usually disguising herself as a human. She learnt from many great and wise immortal masters, and soon mastered yin and yang herself, and gained complete immortality. She spent the next few hundred years moving between humans and celestials, she was interested in the comings and goings of her fellow celestials as much as she was in human affairs. During his time, she saw the damage rampaging demons and whimsy celestials can cause for the world. She soon grew resentful of her fellow mystical beings, and spent more and more of her time living amongst humans. She even considered completely abandoning her fellow celestials and just living as a human in disguise for the rest of eternity.
Around this time she heard of the Great Monkey King, Sun Wukong had been imprisoned under a mountain by the Buddha himself after wreaking havoc in Heaven. She was intrigued by the existence of a fellow monkey celestial, but she decided to stay away. She didn’t want to be involved with such a troublesome celestial, much less one of her kind. However a few hundred years later, she stumbled upon him completely by accident while she was traveling by the Five Elements Mountain.
She took pity on him and stopped to talk to him for a while, out of curiosity if anything, they talked for a while and she almost pitied him enough to try to let him out from under the Mountain. Right until Wukong started ranting about how he’s going to take revenge against Heaven, which lead her to realise he’s no better than the other prideful and arrogant celestials and left him under the Mountain. She spent the next few hundred years living alone in a cave up in a random mountain, trying to figure out what she wants to do with herself. Until one day, a very-almost-dead Macaque literally dropped on her doorstep, who barely managed to get away after Wukong bashed his skull in with his staff after he tried to replace him on the Journey. Pingheng realised she couldn’t just let him die on her doorstep, took him in and healed him as much as she could, however even she couldn’t save his right eye. She almost felt bad for him when he woke up dazed and confused a couple of days later, however, her sympathy also quickly evaporated when he went off about how he’s going to kill Wukong the next time he sees him. She quickly realised this is going to get out of hand really fast, so she kicked him out, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire to come. After that, she moved close to the human village, but didn’t mingle with them too often, still unsure of her place. However (are you seeing the pattern here?) relatively soon after the Macaque incident, Xingti showed up on her doorstep, claiming the Jade Emperor himself invited Pingheng to join their celestial ranks in Heaven. Pingheng was distressed how did Heaven even find out about her existence, as she made sure to stay low and stay out of their sight as far as she could remember, to which Xingti revealed Wukong told them about a Mandrill, who’s just like him. Also, seeing the other monkey’s distress over the situation, Xingti became more forceful, trying to get her to come with her to Heaven, which lead to Tiengeng losing her temper, threatening Xingti and Heaven in furious rage if they don’t leave her alone, she’s going to erease they ever even existed.
Having had enough of demons, celestials and their constant meddling, Pingheng decided to permanently live with the humans, in a human disguise for the rest of eternity. She didn’t want to be associated with anyone troublesome, and SPECIALLY not with Heaven and the other 3 Spiritual Monkeys. That’s how she spent the next 600 years living amongst the humans, avoiding anyone who could inconvenience her in any way or form.
(The following is mostly relevant to the 4+1 Monkeys AU and the show)
Pingheng moved to Wan Qian Cheng sometime after Wukong sealed away DBK and lived there ever since. In the last 500 years she became a bit of a fan of humanity. Their technological and social inventions fascinated her beyond belief, especially combined with the fact, that at the end of the day, they’re just feeble mortals. In the past 500 years she made a bit of a hobby to learn and study everything humanity had to offer, which she’s still doing to this day. However, she also became very selfish during this time. Despite living amongst humans, she never worked for anything, she either ”convinced” humans to give her whatever she wanted, or just flat out stole what she needed. Also, as much as she likes humans and likes living amongst them, they also bore her very easily with their everyday troubles, so she only likes to interact with them when it’s convenient for HER.
She met MK, when the city was under attack by some demons (as always) and she got accidentally caught in the crossfire and MK saved her life. Or what actually happened, against her better judgement she got involved in celestial affairs for the first time in over 600 years, because she got curious about this human who seemed to have Sun Wukong’s powers, she got close to the conflict and let MK „save” her, just so she could see him for herself. After that she quickly grew a soft spot for him. She would never admit it to herself, but as much as she adored humans, she missed the company of other celestials, just a little. And MK was the perfect combination of both. A not-so-feeble human with the fun of celestials, without actually having the baggage of REAL celestials. Later she also became interested (read: grew concerned) about his training with the Monkey King and eventually got him to introduce her to Wukong. Thankfully Wukong didn’t see through her for quite a while, however, after she got revealed to be a fellow Spiritual Monkey, Pingheng, conflict soon blew up between them. Pingheng believed Wukong is a bad influence on MK, and Wukong accused Pingheng of only viewing MK as a special pet. In the end MK got her to try to mend her selfish ways, which resulted in her starting to work at Pigsy’s Noodles as a delivery girl.
Personality:
Fundamentally Pingheng is a curious and caring person. She likes helping others, and learning new things and skills. However, as she saw the world change around her, all the problems, hardships, and suffering, she became more and more closed off and selfish. She prefers to stay in her own little bubble and only interact with others when it’s convenient for her. She likes to go her own way and do things her own way. She wholeheartedly despises celestials, because for they basically have unimaginable powers all they still do is hurt eachother and others. Humans are nothing more than a passionate fascination for her. She loves them, loves their determination, and creativity, and she’s in awe of how they shaped the world around them, but at the end of the day she has a rather condescending opinion of them. How they’re only just feeble mortals, desperately trying to make their mark on the world before they inevitably die and start over. However, beneath all the selfishness and condescending arrogance, she still has kindness in her, and after meeting MK she doubts her selfish way of life more and more, as she does genuinely enjoy human connections and helping others.
Powers and Abilities: She has all the standard abilities of a Spiritual Monkey and Immortal, including: -Immortality (She’s constantly renewing her essence with her yin and yang magic, basically constantly prolonging her life, she can choose to stop doing this anytime and die if she wants to) -Super strength and super speed -Chi manipulation -Cloud Generation -Flight
Other Abilities: -Shapeshifting (much like Wukong, she can’t change her tail) -Clones (She creates them from her own essence, they’re all just as really her as she is) -She has full understanding of yin and yang, this makes her magic incredibly powerful, granting her the ability to control the essence of existence itself -Manipulation: She can „charmspeak” people and other celestials, she just has to use a certain tone to ask for something and they’ll give/tell her whatever she wants
Weapon: Her staff is her main weapon, besides her magic. There isn’t really anything special about it, it’s just a regular wooden staff. She uses it to channel her magic and uses chi enhanced attacks with it.
Relationships:
Sun Wukong: They mutually can’t stand each other with Wukong. Pingheng views him as a selfish, prideful, dangerous asshole, whose arrogance only got worse after he completed the Journey to the West and became a legendary hero. She generally prefers to stay as far away from him as possible. Her distaste for him only grows stronger when she becomes friends with MK, fearing Wukong is a bad influence on MK. However, after some self-reflection and understanding Wukong’s past better, she grows to understand him a little better. She’s still generally annoyed with him, but she doesn’t outright hate him anymore.
MK: She’s probably in the Top 3 members of the MK Fanclub. Initially she was only curious about him, a human with celestial powers, but after meeting him she quickly grew super fond of him and he became one of her favourite people even faster. However, her fondness for him initially was more along the lines of having a special pet, than actually liking him for who he is. For a long time she only viewed him as a human with more extras, he’s not a REAL celestial. Which hurt MK a lot when he found out that she thought of him like that. Unfortunately, by that time Pingheng had genuielly grown to like MK as a person, his snark, his creativity, his kindness, so she actually felt guilty for having hurt him that way. After that she decided to try to be better and be less self-interested and try to open up to other people, so she can be a better friend for MK. Macaque: Her relationship with Macaque is… complicated. Being opposites, both of them being born from the opposing primordial forces, she feels a familiar connection with him. She feels sympathy for him, for the life he had, but she also resents him for the choices he made, being on a bit of a high horse. Probably the clearest emotion she has towards him is pity. She also prefers to stay at a distance from him, but for reasons completely different compared to Wukong. She would never admit it, but deep down she fears if she ever looked at him too closely, if she got to know him better, she’d see a part of her reflect back from him, and she doesn’t want to think about that. However later, after Macaque’s redemption, they’ll actually bond quite a bit, and generally be on the same wavelength specially concerning familiar relationships. They’ll mostly bond over their trouble connecting with others, letting others close to them and forming relationships.
Liang Xingti: Much like Wukong, initially Pingheng didn’t have a good opinion of Xingti. For the longest time she saw her as any other arrogant, busy-body heavenly warrior, not knowing how to mind her own business. She was just Heaven’s lap dog in her eyes, who would mindlessly serve Heaven until her last breath. She just generally looked down on her for serving Heaven. However, after Xingti and Wukong captured Macaque and the 4 Monkeys started working together she had been pleasantly surprised. She found out Xingti actually has a personality outside of serving Heaven, and she’s actually a fun person to be around. She still views the human world the freshness and awe Pingheng had almost forgotten, has a raw sense of humor and is genuinely kind. They quickly became really close friends, and confidentials of eachother.
Pigsy/Tang/Sandy: When she agreed to work at the noodle shop, she didn’t think „Pigsy” would be the same Pigsy who went on the Journey with Wukong over 500 years ago. This pissed her off to put it lightly, she just agreed to open to and mingle with people more, she didn’t expect to be thrown in the deep end with the three celestials she wanted to meet the least. This threw them for a pretty rocky start, with Pingheng being generally hostile and borderline rude with everyone, however, with time, and Sandy’s eternal patience she realised they have a lot more in common with her than she initially realised. This is pretty much what I have in mind so far, I'm sure I left out a lot, I'll add them later when I remember them! And hopefully I'll draw a ref of my other OC, Mandy, the 4th Spiritual Monkey soon as well!
Art by @mexcraziness-art
Xie Pingheng belongs to @mexcraziness-art
Monkie Kig belongs to Lego
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unprofessional-bard · 4 years ago
Text
Chapter 7 - The Fog, Pt. I
Losing My Religion Series Masterlist
Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist
Previous Chapter • Next Chapter
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC
Warnings: Enough with fluff, time for some angst... with smut in flashbacks but detailed enough to satisfy y'all 😌. TW// mentions of suicide, canon typical violence/events, death of a child - overall a lot of blood and gore.
Summary: Things take a dark turn for the reader on patrol one day.
Word Count: 4.119
Author's Note: PLEASE READ!! I'll be moving to another country next week, so my updates might be delayed from time to time... I'm putting a soundtrack from the walking dead below called "The Pulse (I)", the sounds in the beginning (you'll know what I'm talking about once you listen) are what the reader hears; I really didn't know how to describe the sounds so I decided to put the soundtrack there and also linked it on a word when the time comes. Finally, I'm assuming Ellie was born sometime between the end of spring and summer because of the outfits they wore in that cutscene in part ii, so I set this chapter's date to September; wanted Joel to have some nice time with his daughter :")
Enjoy!
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Walt made sure to stay away from you after your conversation. You were absolutely shocked and angry - you hated Walt for that, but you could only laugh at the situation when you told Maria what happened. How ironic it all was. You thought maybe if Joel hadn't come along, you could have ended up with Walt but you weren't sure if you'd be as happy with him as you were with Joel. You would've been sad or upset after finding out about this new 'information' if your feelings for Joel weren't this strong, but you were simply glad Walt didn't open up to you before Joel and Ellie came. Your relationship with Walt was damaged for sure now, but it wasn't completely in disrepair.
Joel and you, on the other hand, weren't the type to kiss or hold hands in public. You weren't too sensual with each other in front of others, but behind closed doors, it was a different story. Who would've thought Joel Miller would be a cuddler? It definitely wasn't you, or Tommy or Ellie. Nobody knew for awhile of course, but Tommy eventually caught Joel and you in your kitchen one day, weeks later. He was hugging you from behind and placing sweet kisses on your neck as you tried to focus on the task in front of you, but he was making it significantly hard.
Tommy teased Joel to no end about being a love sick puppy around you and kept asking when the two of you were going to get married. You'd blush and laugh, but you never even thought about marriage in the first place. It had only been around ten months since you two made things official between yourselves, but the idea of labeling it sounded silly at that time- plus, it was still a little early to think about marriage. As Eugene had put it, you were in the sex, beer and rock 'n roll phase of your relationship and you needed more time to figure everything out before settling down together. You two stayed at each other's houses most of the time of course, but still. There were still sides to the both of you that neither of you discovered yet as well.
Sex, beer and rock 'n roll? Well...
"Really? Now?" Joel.
"Yes, now!" You whisper yelled, then slowly sneaked your hand under his shirt and began kissing his neck. "Come on, baby, please? I need you..."
You were leaning against Joel, practically rubbing your whole body against his as you moaned whispered in his ear. Of course, he couldn't help himself when he saw you were this hungry for him, so he gladly obliged.
You kissed Joel's lips softly, but just as you pulled away, he held your neck and kissed you again harshly. You knew, you weren't in for a gentle treatment the moment you felt his hand around your throat lightly. Joel sat you on the desk and spread your legs, settling between your thighs and grabbing them.
"Tommy won't stop bustin' my balls about this if he catches us," Joel grunted.
"He won't- if we're quick enough," You smirked and took his jacket off in a rush. You two were currently at a back room of the ski lodge lookout, where Tommy told you he'd meet you both in half an hour.
"Lay down for me," Joel growled and pulled your pants down to your knees while you did as he told you, getting support from your elbows as he slowly unbuckled his belt. Your arousal was present ever since you woke up from a rather naughty dream in the morning. You didn't say or do anything about it, hoping that it'll go away throughout the day. Guess what? It didn't and here you were, Joel between your wide open legs and pumping his cock while teasing you with his other hand. You wouldn't say you had sex too often like rabbits, but you had sex when there was a mutual tension between you that needed to be subsided and it was so perfect every time.
Today though? You were just horny for the man and the hunger in your eyes was enough for a tent to build up in Joel's pants.
Your wetness was a natural lubricant for his easy entrance into you. He absolutely loved you around his cock, the way your walls took him in and clamped down around his length and, of course, the noises you made.
Joel stepped over the barrier made by your pants, grabbed your hips and set off with a fast, brutal pace. Your arms shook as they struggled to keep you up, sweat trickling down your forehead and finally gave out, making you lay down completely. He leaned down to kiss your neck, hips snapping into yours and stroking all the right places in fast motions. He pulled your v-neck blouse up just above your breasts and his teeth immediately met with your hardened nipples, making you moan loudly.
"Shh," Joel chuckled. "It's like you want us to get caught, baby."
Your giggles soon turned to high pitched whines of his name, his fast and rough pace gave you an indescribable amount of pleasure. The table you were currently spread across on began hitting the wall behind you louder and louder with each thrust along with his skin slapping against yours but neither of you were in a state of mind to care.
"Oh Joel!" You cried out, holding onto his arms for dear life as he fucked the living out of you.
Joel growled - you would've thought he was angry if you weren't in this situation right now: "Fuck, (Y/N)-"
A few profanities and thrusts later, you came undone a moment before he pulled out and with a couple of strokes, came on your inner thigh. You thought you'd seen stars as your legs twitched, hanging off the table. Joel collapsed on your body and you two stood like that, trembling and trying to catch your breaths.
"That- that was-" Joel tried to speak.
"Mind blowing?" You chuckled.
"That's one word to describe it," Joel slowly pushed himself up and placed a kiss on your forehead, helping you up.
No one ever caught the two of you in the act, of course. You two were incredibly careful while teasing one another in public - it could be a look, a smirk, the slightest spreading of his or your legs, a touch, a word- anything would be so carefully executed that nobody would even notice. After sex, your mind lingered too long on Joel and that usually wasn't good because it sometimes led to daydreaming while doing chores in town. Not on patrol, of course, but this one morning Joel had fucked you so good, you couldn't help but spend the rest of the day aching for more.
You were still a little sleepy so you let him have it his way. He took off whatever clothing he had on him and stripped you of yours, then spread your legs open: "Ain't you the loveliest little thing when you wake up..."
You grinned at him, stretching as he kissed your belly once, then proceeded to eat you out like a man who hadn't eaten in days. He took his time and didn't rush anything, earning soft gasps from you with his skillful tongue: "Oh god, Joel-"
One of your hands went through his hair while the other was on your forehead as if you were about to faint. Your cheeks were burning, his hands had a tight grip on your waist so he could keep you from wiggling out of his touch. This was pleasure in its purest form, you thought. The sight of him buried between your legs were absolutely delicious and the feeling even more so. He didn't let you come, however. Instead he sat on the bed and licked his lips: "Turn around for me, baby."
You whined at the loss of contact but did as he asked. He got on top of you, then caressed and massaged your back and kissed down your spine as his hands moved lower to your rear: "You ready for me, doll?"
"Yes," You sighed dreamily, a light smile on your lips. Joel pushed your legs together and you felt the bed dip on each side. He was hovering over you on his knees: Slowly, he pushed into you, almost moaning at the feeling of how tight you felt around him. You were already a mess by the time he was buried to the hilt. He fucked you thoroughly and slowly - he had all the time in the world and didn't want to rush anything. You liked it when he was taking his time, it extended your orgasm to it's limit but this position was about to see to a quick end on both sides.
He gently grabbed your chin and pulled your head up so he could tease your lips with his. You were on your elbows and moaning softly, whining when he didn't kiss you: "Joel..."
A quiet chuckle left his lips: "You want a kiss?"
You simply nodded and moaned instead of answering when his pace got faster. He gave you your kiss, your jaw in his careful grasp and fucked you until you came with a high pitched moan. Joel came on your rear, finishing with a long, hushed groan.
Those two and your first time with each other were the best sex you two ever had, you both agreed on it during a drunken chat.
Joel wasn't too hard to handle. During his time in Jackson and then his time with you and Ellie had really helped him open up and get comfortable with his emotions around people he let in. He hardly ever got jealous, but the way he got jealous would be sweet rather than a mood killer.
"I'm real lucky to have the most beautiful woman in town all for myself," He'd say, before kissing your brow and putting his arm around your waist. You enjoyed it, being his. New arrivals who'd try their chances with you would instantly know that you were 'his gal' and he was your man. You two really helped one another fit better in Jackson - you socialized with others and got to be vulnerable around each other. You taught him how to love again and he taught you over and over that all hope wasn't lost.
Until September 23rd, 2035. A date you'll never quite forget.
Red, orange and brown leaves had fallen off trees and blanketed the soil you and Joel were walking on. You two were set off to patrol a new place Tommy and Joel had discovered a few days back and it needed clearing from the infected. There was also a child, Miles, missing along with his father Samuel. They'd been missing for four days now and your thoughts were very troubled because of it, ever since their disappearance was announced. You really liked Miles, a sweet twelve year old boy he was.
"Doll, you okay?" Joel gave you a concerned look. Your grip on your rifle was hard and you had zoned out apparently, missing everything Joel had been talking about.
"Yeah," You nodded. The sun was shining through the trees and right onto Joel's beautiful face, which made you smile. "I wish we had a camera."
"I heard Tommy found one, he said someone was working on it this morning," Joel replied. "Why'd you ask?"
"You look so beautiful like this- and we don't have a picture together."
"Yeah, you're right," He nodded. "We'll be the first ones to use it, I promise you... I actually want a picture of me and Ellie too."
The way he loved Ellie like he did Sarah made your heart break. He had mentioned how he was absolutely destroyed and almost took his own life after her passing, also the story of how him and Ellie came across two brothers, Sam and Henry, before they found you which turned you into a concerned mother duck around the kids in Jackson and more of a wife to Joel than a girlfriend.
"Yeah, I want a lot of pictures with a lot of people: With the kids, Maria, Tommy, even Eugene!" You chuckled and made him laugh, but suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you saw two bodies lying on the ground and a third one away from them. "Joel, look."
Joel's smile immediately dropped at the sight. You two shared a look before you got in position and carefully walked over to the bodies with your rifle pointed at them, Joel right behind you. The closer you got, you noticed how there was a third body under the other two. You didn't recognise any of them, so you carefully leaned down and moved one of them away to see an awful scene in front of you.
"Oh god, Miles?" You whispered. His eyes opened slowly and you immediately moved the corpses off him.
"Miss (Y/N)?" Miles' voice cracked.
"It's alright Miles- It's me, I got you-"
"(Y/N)," Joel called over to where the third body was, only to see Samuel lying on his face.
You gave him a devastated look, but stopped Miles from seeing his father's body and picked him up bridal style: "Good god, how long have you been here, darling?"
"A few hours?" Miles held onto you while Joel was trying to figure out a way on how to get Samuel's body back to town. "You need to be careful miss, those men could be still here."
"What men?"
"The men that attacked us," Miles continued. "My pa thought they were bandits, but they wer-"
Blam!
You didn't understand what happened first. Blood got into your eyes and splattered all over your face - an incredible force almost pushed Miles out of your hold but your grip stopped him from falling.
"Dolly!" You heard Joel yell, but you couldn't open your eyes, too much blood-
You wiped your eyes on your arm as best as you could with Miles in them, but when you finally managed to open your eyes, you almost screamed: There were two holes on the sides of Miles' head and a bullet, covered in blood, on the ground.
"Oh- Oh god," You trembled, you couldn't take your eyes off the poor boy's head, but Joel pushed you on the ground suddenly and saved you from another bullet.
"Take cover- run!" Joel yelled, pushing you in the direction of a huge rock only a few feet away from you. You reluctantly let go of Miles' body and ran with him. Once behind the cover, Joel whispered: "Dolly- Dolly are you okay?"
You sure as shit were not, your face looked like the statement too.
"You heard the boss: Bring the woman alive, get rid of the other one!" A shiver went down your spine. Who the hell were they? Was FEDRA finally caught up to you?
"Oh fuck," You tried to breathe, wiping at your face. "Joel-"
"I'm right here darlin' but you gotta focus, we need to get outta here," Joel held your face between his hands. "C'mon (Y/N), focus."
You took a few deep breaths and concentrated. You heard about seven to eight footsteps beginning to surround you. You readied your rifle and Joel did the same, but before attacking, you threw a smoke bomb right onto a man who was the closest to your position, then moved in his direction as a smoke cloud hid your movements. This gave Joel time to cover you as you killed the first man, bullets flying in your direction. You quickly jumped back to your cover, a bullet barely slicing through the flesh of your leg as you landed beside Joel.
"Please tell me you have a nail bomb," You whined.
"Always," Joel said before sending it off to where three of the men were, the shards embedding themselves into their skin and making them cry out in pain. Quickly taking the chance, you fired at the men until you ran out of bullets. You took out Kurt's your knife and advanced at another man with a baseball bat in his hand. You were quicker with a knife - it took you almost five seconds to cut open the man's vital veins and have him collapse onto the ground. Just as you were about to turn around to see where Joel was, you felt someone grab you by the waist and slam you to the ground.
"Oof!" You immediately collected yourself and swung the blade to your opponent's throat, but he grabbed your wrist and rolled you and himself over, pushing himself away from you. You quickly got up on your knees and reached for your blade when the same hand caught your wrist once more. You were, once again, mortified at the sight in front of you: "Gabe?!"
"Hiya commander," Gabe growled in despise and headbutted you, completely taking advantage of how off guard you were.
"Fuck!" You cried out and kicked him in the face before he could get to you when you collapsed. While you two were on the floor, making sure your bones weren't broken, Joel was shooting his way to you. He was going hand to hand with a man who's neck was going to be broken by the heel of Joel's boots in a matter of seconds. You stumbled but got up and immediately got on top of Gabe with your knife in hand. You went to stab him in the throat but his arms blocked you from doing so.
"(Y/N)!" Joel pointed his gun at Gabe, but was interrupted by another man suddenly tackling him.
Your vision was red - you were like a raging bull, wanting nothing more than to kill Gabe for what he had done. You were angry at yourself too, mostly at yourself but he still played a part in getting your family killed. You couldn't even hear your surroundings anymore as you repeatedly hit and forced your knife holding hand down to his throat while grunting angrily.
Another unexpected move from him had your back slamming onto the ground with his ankles wrapped around your throat. How the hell- Since when was he this flexible?!
You gasped for air with a loud cry, drawing a distressed Joel's attention back to you. You were scared now, actually scared because of the move Gabe pulled, so your survival instincts kicked in with full effect. The tip of your boot met with his jaw, hard, as soon as it got free from under your thigh. The moment you felt his lock weaken around your throat, you rolled back, grabbed his leg before he could recollect himself and with everything you had, struck his knee with your elbow. Gabe screamed and kicked you with his fine leg, but he was weak and you kept striking the same spot, crushing his bone ferociously.
"(Y/N)!" Joel pulled you away from your shoulders, but you pushed him off with your back. "(Y/N), stop!"
You grabbed Gabe's throat, nails digging into his skin and pressed him down: "Got you, you fucking rat."
"(Y/N)-"
You ignored Joel and choked Gabe to his death: "Is there more of you, huh? Where is he?!"
"You'll be seeing him-" Gabe choked out, struggling against your grip. "Very soon."
"We need to move!" Joel pulled you off of him, but you pushed him away with your hands.
"Fine," You replied through your teeth after calming down. You gave a final look at Gabe and when you saw a shit eating grin on his face, you, with the speed of light, leaned down and grabbed your knife, then shoved it through his throat with a roar. You looked him dead in the eyes as he choked on his own blood and died.
"(Y/N)..." Joel's eyes were wide as he watched you wipe the blood on your knife on Gabe's jeans. You got up, more blood smeared on your face and jacket, but just as you began walking away, you heard more footsteps from inside the woods.
"Shit, hide," You kneeled and took cover behind a fallen tree, Joel right beside you.
"Who are they?" Joel whispered as you reloaded your rifle with a hard look on your face.
"People I thought were dead," You replied, not looking into his eyes. "They escaped me once and I paid dearly because of it. I'm not leaving until they're dead."
"No, we can leave now and come back with Tommy and other's-"
"And let these assholes find out where we live and terrorize the town?" You growled angrily. "Let's make one thing clear: I'm not letting anymore people die because of stupid mistakes I make. This ends. Now."
You discreetly scanned your surroundings: There were, once more, around eight men searching the area for you two. You took a deep breath and sneaked off to take down your first target. Joel was really tense but still carried out his fair share of executions until one of the men saw you and alerted the rest, bullets flying in the air. Most of the men were already down, but suddenly more men filled the area. Where the hell are they coming from?!
You were more than willing to take him up on that offer, but you obviously didn't trust him: "You think I'm dumb enough to believe you'll stay true to your word, you son of a whore?!"
"Hold your fire!" A very, very familiar British accent that haunted you to this day reached your ears and your eyes went wide. "Oh (Y/N)~" He sang and called for you. "Are you still alive, sweetheart?" You gulped and tried to breathe, a sound lightly ringing in your ear the more he talked: "I know you're out there, I have an offer for you: Come with me now and I'll leave your friend alone."
"Come now, my mother flipped in her grave because of you and your team too many times already, poor woman..." You peeked at him from behind your cover carefully as he continued: "Oh for god's sake- bring him out!"
You watched in horror as two men dragged Joel out to the open from his arms. When did he even get captured?! God, you thought, I was so blinded by revenge I couldn't protect him.
"Dear lord above," The man chuckled, quite shocked. "I never thought I'd see you again."
What?
Joel remained quiet even after the men pushed him onto the ground, then the leader pulled out his pistol and pushed the tip against Joel's head: "Alright, new deal: If you don't come out in the next three seconds, I'll blow his bloody head off."
"Alright, stop!" You immediately got up, desperation taking over you. "Here I am, let him go."
"Now, why should I do that?" The man snorted. "He betrayed me and ran off to be a goddamn smuggler, I should just blow his head off."
"No!" You yelled, your voice cracking. "He has a daughter and a wife- your deal is with me, let him go."
Joel looked up at you as best as he could while his head was pressed on the ground. You couldn't believe he, your lover, used to run with them- with him.
"Are you possibly the wife you spoke of?" The man grinned at you.
"No, you imbecile-!" You lied through your teeth and he seemed to be buying it so far. "You've already destroyed enough families, just let the man go... You'll be satisfied enough while killing me."
"You're quite right," The man nodded thoughtfully. "I'll enjoy ripping you apart... But you know what? Since you're cooperating with me so nicely and, well, since he used to be my second in command -brothers in arms and whatnot- I'll spare him."
You exhaled in relief, not letting it creep up into your expression however. Suddenly, he kicked Joel in the nose and knocked him out: "In two hours, I'll send a man here and if he's still knocked out, I'm going to kill him."
You knew Joel would be up in less than two hours, so you kept quiet and stared at the man, hard. There's got to be a way out of this...
"Well, shall we?" The man snapped his fingers at someone behind you and they kicked the back of your knee to bring you on your knees while your hands were behind your head. The man took your rifle from you and with the back of it, hit you in the head, making your vision go black.
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