#but now i feel like a human!! with wants and feelings and the drive to do things!!! holy shit

[solarpunkpolliwog]

This was a really lovely read!!! Similar to Green Corridors, I also am a big fan of Greenways- I didn't realize I already knew what they were until I looked into them, but they are essentially the conversion of strips of city to help biodiversity conservation, improve city heat islands (as mentioned in the article), and improve the human experience of living in urban landscapes in a BIG way.

There are a number of historical precedents of people planning cities around nature and people, and the effects make a huge difference. The first time I came face to face with a world designed around those things, I was lucky and privileged enough to join an exchange program to Japan for 2 weeks. I lived with my exchange sibling and their family in Japan, and I got to travel around a lot because of it. The things you see in anime do largely apply to many areas of Tokyo- the city feels a lot more human centric. It's kind of stupidly easy to travel even far distances without a car. The train system is well designed and very punctual and frequent, which allows for a lot more flexibility with travel, and the shinkansen makes it so you can travel far distances so fast it's amazing!

And the cities are so easy to walk through- there's lots of nature, so many little back streets and shortcuts and architecture that feels like they were built for desire paths, and it made for a really fun time exploring and walking and even just finding places to sit and relax as if it was miles from the city in some cases.

Now there's plenty that's not perfect- I did struggle with accessibility in terms of frequent seating areas with chronic pain in really bustling city centers, and the panic of some of the highest density and pushy crowds in areas of the city like Shibuya and Harajuku were pretty bad for my overstimulation issues. But it gives us a glimpse at what amazing city designs could do if we built for preserving nature, and giving a good quality of life experience to anyone who engages with the city.

Back in the U.S. it was kind of startling how terribly our cities are built on the whole compared to this. I've been able to find a couple pockets, towns, and cities that do a pretty good job of these things, but the majority of places that I have ever visited in the United States are extremely inaccessible to things other than cars. Nature suffers, people suffer, and even businesses suffer in some cases.

But work is being done to improve things here though! I found The Rose Kennedy Greenway Park while making a stop on my Amtrak trip 2 years ago, and that was a lovely little highlight. I wanted to take a little wander before my next train, and I went to go on a journey to get some coffee and a mochi doughnut before I headed out, and passed through the Greenway on my walk. It's not like you could pretend you weren't in the city, but the Greenway used to be a TERRIBLE central artery running through Boston that was converted since they were dealing with so many traffic issues.

But now, converted into this park, it was a lovely little experience for me! There were a lot of local flora, little buggies (I heard that there are areas that even have full meadows and beehives for pollinator insects) and people were just sitting and relaxing, and I saw a lot of people walking in that area compared to other areas of the city that I've seen that are just not human friendly to be around.

My little city of Worcester is another sad example of what happens what you let cars and capitalism drive the design of our world. Black top buildings sprawl inefficiently and the city center is dead. Business fronts have been empty for years from driven up rental prices that landlords sit on hoping for a renaissance of big businesses to pay those prices, and no one walks because you would have to walk for ridiculously long times without shade, open businesses to wander into, trash cans, seating, and even sidewalk in some places before you can arrive.

Investing in good city design makes the world so much more beautiful, and I dream of a day where we more intensely invest in living in urban areas and making the experience human and nature-focused so that we can protect wider areas of untouched nature, be closer together, and pool our resources to support all of us no matter what our needs are <3

"With “green corridors” that mimic the natural forest, the Colombian city is driving down temperatures — and could become five degrees cooler over the next few decades.

In the face of a rapidly heating planet, the City of Eternal Spring — nicknamed so thanks to its year-round temperate climate — has found a way to keep its cool.

Previously, Medellín had undergone years of rapid urban expansion, which led to a severe urban heat island effect — raising temperatures in the city to significantly higher than in the surrounding suburban and rural areas. Roads and other concrete infrastructure absorb and maintain the sun’s heat for much longer than green infrastructure.

“Medellín grew at the expense of green spaces and vegetation,” says Pilar Vargas, a forest engineer working for City Hall. “We built and built and built. There wasn’t a lot of thought about the impact on the climate. It became obvious that had to change.”

Efforts began in 2016 under Medellín’s then mayor, Federico Gutiérrez (who, after completing one term in 2019, was re-elected at the end of 2023). The city launched a new approach to its urban development — one that focused on people and plants.

The $16.3 million initiative led to the creation of 30 Green Corridors along the city’s roads and waterways, improving or producing more than 70 hectares of green space, which includes 20 kilometers of shaded routes with cycle lanes and pedestrian paths.

These plant and tree-filled spaces — which connect all sorts of green areas such as the curb strips, squares, parks, vertical gardens, sidewalks, and even some of the seven hills that surround the city — produce fresh, cooling air in the face of urban heat. The corridors are also designed to mimic a natural forest with levels of low, medium and high plants, including native and tropical plants, bamboo grasses and palm trees.

Heat-trapping infrastructure like metro stations and bridges has also been greened as part of the project and government buildings have been adorned with green roofs and vertical gardens to beat the heat. The first of those was installed at Medellín’s City Hall, where nearly 100,000 plants and 12 species span the 1,810 square meter surface.

“It’s like urban acupuncture,” says Paula Zapata, advisor for Medellín at C40 Cities, a global network of about 100 of the world’s leading mayors. “The city is making these small interventions that together act to make a big impact.”

At the launch of the project, 120,000 individual plants and 12,500 trees were added to roads and parks across the city. By 2021, the figure had reached 2.5 million plants and 880,000 trees. Each has been carefully chosen to maximize their impact.

“The technical team thought a lot about the species used. They selected endemic ones that have a functional use,” explains Zapata.

The 72 species of plants and trees selected provide food for wildlife, help biodiversity to spread and fight air pollution. A study, for example, identified Mangifera indica as the best among six plant species found in Medellín at absorbing PM2.5 pollution — particulate matter that can cause asthma, bronchitis and heart disease — and surviving in polluted areas due to its “biochemical and biological mechanisms.”

And the urban planting continues to this day.

The groundwork is carried out by 150 citizen-gardeners like Pineda, who come from disadvantaged and minority backgrounds, with the support of 15 specialized forest engineers. Pineda is now the leader of a team of seven other gardeners who attend to corridors all across the city, shifting depending on the current priorities...

“I’m completely in favor of the corridors,” says [Victoria Perez, another citizen-gardener], who grew up in a poor suburb in the city of 2.5 million people. “It really improves the quality of life here.”

Wilmar Jesus, a 48-year-old Afro-Colombian farmer on his first day of the job, is pleased about the project’s possibilities for his own future. “I want to learn more and become better,” he says. “This gives me the opportunity to advance myself.”

The project’s wider impacts are like a breath of fresh air. Medellín’s temperatures fell by 2°C in the first three years of the program, and officials expect a further decrease of 4 to 5C over the next few decades, even taking into account climate change. In turn, City Hall says this will minimize the need for energy-intensive air conditioning...

In addition, the project has had a significant impact on air pollution. Between 2016 and 2019, the level of PM2.5 fell significantly, and in turn the city’s morbidity rate from acute respiratory infections decreased from 159.8 to 95.3 per 1,000 people [Note: That means the city's rate of people getting sick with lung/throat/respiratory infections.]

There’s also been a 34.6 percent rise in cycling in the city, likely due to the new bike paths built for the project, and biodiversity studies show that wildlife is coming back — one sample of five Green Corridors identified 30 different species of butterfly.

Other cities are already taking note. Bogotá and Barranquilla have adopted similar plans, among other Colombian cities, and last year São Paulo, Brazil, the largest city in South America, began expanding its corridors after launching them in 2022.

“For sure, Green Corridors could work in many other places,” says Zapata."

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, March 4, 2024

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #2 (Cont.)

Minji: Something capable of warding off an angel???

MC: Yes.

Minji: ...

Minji: Angels are protectors. Why would you want to drive them away?

MC: *serious face* 'Cause I think they're annoying.

Minji: ...

Minji: Is there something you're not telling me?

MC: ...

MC: Okay, I'll be honest. There's this dude who claims he's my guardian angel—

Minji: Does he look like an angel?

MC: He has this weird ass halo.

Minji: Oh. Okay. Continue.

MC: *frowns* Anyway, he wants me to go with him somewhere.

Minji: ...He wants you dead.

MC: Exactly! That's what I'm thinking too!

Minji: ...

Minji: Well, you're in luck. I have something here that can protect you.

MC: Really?

Minji: *shows him a photo card of Leviathan*

MC: ...

MC: What the fuck is that?

Minji: Leviathan — the king of Hades!

MC: ...

MC: Yeah, that looks so fake.

Minji: No, it's not! It's a good luck charm!

MC: *doubtful*

Minji: You should try it for yourself.

MC: *rolls eyes* Give me that. *snatches it from her*

MC: So, I burn it, right?

Minji: *whacks their head* Noo! You talk to it!

MC: ...

MC: *looks at Leviathan's image*

MC: ...

MC: He looks like a masochist.

Minji: MC.

MC: Fine, fine. I'll try it at home.

MC: Ugh. This is stupid.

MC: *recites the spell taught by Minji*

MC: ...

MC: Called it. It's a hoax. *tossed the photo card into the trash can*

MC: *yawns* I feel sleepy...

MC: ...

Leviathan: You're just as rude as your ancestor.

MC: ...

MC: Yeah, I'm waking up.

Leviathan: *shaking his head* What are you doing to do without me?

MC: What—

MC: *wakes up groggily*

MC: Ugh... This is why I hate sleeping in the afternoon.

Raphael: What have you done...

MC: ...

MC: *turns their head and notices both Raphael and Leviathan sitting at the edge of the bed*

MC: ...

Leviathan: How unfortunate for you. It appears that yet another descendant of Solomon is destined to establish a connection with us demons of Hell.

Raphael: This doesn't count.

Leviathan: I disagree. It's as clear as day.

Leviathan: This human has sought my protection.

MC: Uh, no. I don't need it. You two can leave now.

Leviathan: ...

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *chuckles*

[lubdubology]

I've been meaning to make this for a while now. Below is a compilation of my favorite Logan stories I've read--ones that have given me all the feels, made me kick my feet, cry with joy, weep with angst and all together delight my very soul. These are not in any particular order. If your story is tagged and you don't want it to be, please let me know and I'll remove it.

give me the first taste // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: from the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved. (Part 2 of Guilty Pleasure)

guilty pleasure // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

crawl home to her // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known. (Part 2 of You Can Use My Skin to Bury Secrets In)

you can use my skin to bury secrets in // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: Saliva floods his mouth as you rise to your feet, looking down at him from above. Gracefully angelic, and yet— “I know what I’m asking for,” you continue, your voice descending to a low murmur that scratches pleasantly against some dark and remote corner of his brain. Then you lower yourself onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his waist. You repeat your question: “Can I help you?”

blessed are the forgetful // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: To love is to cherish, to endure, to fight. But to love is also to forget—at least, for you and Logan. Despite countless attempts to erase the part of yourselves that yearns to find completion in each other, you always end up back where it all began: the moment your eyes first met his—the moment everything changed.

epiphany // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: Superheroes and mutants weren’t enough. No—the universe had to throw in soulmates who share scars. Fantastic, right? Except yours had vanished, only to mysteriously reappear with the arrival of a new face: the “Worst” Logan Howlett, fresh from another earth.

never is a promise // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: You are everything Logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, Charles' caregiver.

give me all that ultraviolence // @joelsgoldrush Synopsis: You give Logan head for the first time.

sugar, sugar // @eupheme Synopsis: Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

honey, honey // @eupheme Synopsis: Even after you wake up alone, and almost late for work, it doesn’t deter your interest in your neighbor - especially after the night you shared. (Or - a miscommunication, and the following through of two late-night promises.)

you've got me wanting you // @eupheme Synopsis: As the days pass, you think your time spent with Logan is pretty much perfect. Well... almost. (Or - a dash of insecurity, some badgood advice from Wade, a near-fight at a bar, and the confession of overdue feelings.)

from eden // @eupheme Synopsis: Every day you wish you could do more. More for Charles. More for him. But the harsh sun eats away at you. You weren’t built for this heat. You were meant for gardens. For Eden. But you think… as your fingers trail through the earth, your life force flowing down into the greenery below - if something can grow here, in the desert - then maybe, so can hope.

just the tip // @pedroscurls Synopsis: you're ready to take the next step with logan, but you're still a bit nervous.

smoke and ash // @moonlight-prose Synopsis: cigar smoke trailed after him with every step, his mouth always desperate for something to wet, something to bite down on. and you with the match between your teeth indulged him every which way.

cardinal // @danidrabbles Synopsis: At the edge of the world, someone from another keeps you from stepping off.

i could play the doctor (i can cure your disease) // @sceletaflores Synopsis: it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

runaway bride // @pedroscurls Synopsis: on the day of your wedding, you find out that your maid of honor and husband-to-be has been hooking up behind your back... and you run directly into the arms of a stranger to help you cope with the sudden betrayal.

nameless as a river undiscovered underground // @moonlight-prose Synopsis: his leather jacket remained a tie between your love and his. the weight of it, the smell of your intertwined scents, all revolved around a relationship he never thought would happen.

soft and serene (let me feel you on my lips) // @sceletaflores Synopsis: logan's not a virgin by any means, but he's still wearing white...

beggin' for seconds // @yxtkiwiyxt Synopsis: You visit Logan at work when one of his colleague's sons gets injured and then he goes back to the hospital with you.

mirror sex // @avocado-writing Synopsis: Mirror Sex (Old Man Logan x Reader)

snow day // @silverskyeline Synopsis: logan hates the snow, hates that it reminds him of the past. but he soon finds that being with you gives it a whole new meaning.

dust to dust // @moonlight-prose Synopsis: when the days are long and he's grown weary of everything, he knows he can find his peace in your body. that is until he brings a whole new understanding to the belt buckle that sits proudly on his waist.

slippin' and slidin' all over you // @sceletaflores Synopsis: logan forgot to fix the ac...

new rules // @seventeenpins Synopsis: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away.

knuckle velvet // @ohcaptains Synopsis: he walks you home, then lets himself in.

the devil and i // @mystra-midnight Synopsis: logan might have looked like an ordinary man, but the weight of his metal-laced bones pressing against your back was intoxicating—deliciously so. and he knew this with the same certainty with which he knew the earth revolved around the sun.

[revelboo]

RAHHHHH the rammatra fic outta nowhere had me going ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

(Tbh I think he and genji were my gateway drug to robots)

Absolutely scrumptious as always

Anti-Gravity Pt 2

Ramattra x Reader

• Ankle screaming when you put weight on it, you use the length of rebar like a cane to pick your way closer to the pinned Omnic. He still has one good arm, so you’ll need to be quick. Drive that rebar deep as you can, through that baleful optic and out the other side. Omnic aren’t people, they’re not alive, just a clever impersonation of it. Except. You remember months ago, getting caught on the outskirts of a mob running down a lone Omnic. Watching them pull it to the ground, but doing nothing to stop them. It wasn’t your problem, you just wanted to go home. But it hadn’t begged or pleaded with its attackers. All it had said while it still could speak was that it was ‘seen in the light of the Iris.’ Like it believed it was more than just a machine. Raising the rebar, you stare down at it. Him, Ramattra. A machine. Just a machine.

• Servos curling in a fist, he tiredly watches the human poised to attack him. One side of your face smeared with blood from a sluggishly bleeding wound at your temple. Baring your teeth at him, rocking forward, but faltering. And your hands are shaking as you make to lunge and then stop yourself again. Finally meeting his optics. “You’re a monster,”you tell him, voice tired as you slump down on a pile of rubble nearby. Above the two of you something shifts and dirt patters down. He understands that hate in your eyes, but your mercy takes him by surprise. “You deserve to die,” you add, voice angry now. At him or yourself?

• “If I’m a monster, it’s because your kind gave me no choice,” that low, digitized voice growls as he tries to drag himself more upright before giving up. Head tipping back to stare at the rubble above them and you follow his stare even as his words whisper through you. Make you think of that Omnic dying for no reason at all, torn apart by that mob. What had it even done? Just been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Dared to exist?

• Growling softly, he knows that if they start messing with the debris above, it’s likely to come down and your mercy will mean very little when you’re both crushed. “There’s always a choice,” you counter, rolling up your pant leg to gingerly prod at your ankle and he watches your little shoulders hunch. From above, there’s another shower of dirt and rocks, the drip of water becoming a steady stream from a busted pipe.

• You’re afraid to take off your sneaker and see how bad it really is. Afraid you won’t be able to get the show back on if you do. The only thing you’re certain of it’s that you can’t stay here. You’re not sure if you’re in the sewer or in some kind of maintenance tunnel, but you don’t want it to become your tomb.

• “Your naïveté will get you killed,” he growls, watching you turn your attention back to him. To his trapped leg. While you can still walk, he can’t. Not alone. Doesn’t have the energy to swap back to nemesis form to try and free himself, too damaged to risk it. Ignoring you since you’re apparently not going to try and end him right this moment, he tries to free his pinned lower leg. Tensing when you limp over and drive that rebar under the broken wall crushing him and pushing down on it like a fulcrum. Too small to budge it at all, but still trying. Above them something creaks and scrapes. How long? Minutes or hours? And he follows your attention when it drifts toward the dark tunnel. “You can’t see in the dark, but I can. Find something sharp. Metal.”

• You stare at him, attention drifting back to his lower leg. Knowing you’re not going to get him free in time, but he’s right. It’s pitch deeper in and the only light is coming through the shifting rubble. You’ll never find a way out without him. Limping sends jagged shards of pain through your leg and knee, but you find something useable and carry it over. Feeling oddly squeamish as he positions it against the joint of his knee and you realize what he wants. Just a machine, you remind yourself as he tries to saw at the joint, making a low, snarling sound of very real pain. And you grab the sides of the metal fragment and drive it down. Again and again, feeling the edges biting into your palm. It takes both of you to sever the lower half of his leg and your palms are cut up and sticky with blood as you offer him a hand. “You’re still a monster,” you tell him as he lurches unsteadily upright with only one leg and one arm. Skin crawling as he leans on you and nearly knocks you both down with his weight. He’s silent as you grit your teeth and start moving, letting him use you for balance. Because even if he’s a monster, he doesn’t deserve to die like this. No one does.

Previous

[maya-caffrey]

Short Circuit

pairing: connor (rk800) x reader words: 1k summary: reader sees Connor outside of work for the first time in normal human clothes and dies a little bit (comedy, fluff) warnings: language, lack of proofreading, fic from reader's pov a/n: let's pretend this is after the good ending and androids can own property now cause we're going to Connor's place etc

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

Words cannot describe the amount of hate I have for Fowler. On my day off he asks me to take some evidence over to Connor for a 'quick analysis', like, Jesus Christ dude wait for the labwork like the rest of us. The nerve of this guy, honestly. Anyway, if you were wondering why I was driving to Connor's place first thing on a Sunday, that was it.

Yes, I hate my boss, how original, but I would never pass up an opportunity to see Connor. Sure, he's my colleague, but he's also my friend. And also I may be in love with him have a normal, tiny, minuscule crush on him. I don't know how it happened, I didn't even realize it, but yes, I do, in fact, have feelings for Connor. "Oh but he's an andro-" Go fuck yourself, he's more human than most people these days.

Before I realized it, I was at his place and almost knocked on his door. Almost being the keyword here, because I heard a voice from the inside.

"Detective! Just a minute. I will be right there."

"Holy shit, how did you know? Let me guess, X-ray vision?" It's always something with him. Of course, Cyberlife's most intelligent android comes with X-ray vision. I feel stupid for not guessing right away. Wait, does this mean he had X-ray vision all this time? That feels like an ethical grey area. Is that allowed? My rapid descent down that rabbit hole was interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked.

"Ring Camera. Come on in!" He led me inside and I absent-mindedly followed him before I noticed it. He was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. Connor Anderson (legal name, yes), android detective by day, who famously only wore suits, was standing in front of me, in goddamn sweats. And he looked like he stepped right out of my dreams.

I did not know it was possible to be any level of attractive in fucking pajamas, but oh my god, it absolutely was. He looked hot as hell. I don't know if it was from having only seen him in formals, or the fact that Kamski knowingly made a hottie, but I was reveling in this sight.

His T-shirt fit him exactly as it should have, and his sleeves stopped halfway through the biceps I didn't even know he had. His hair looked unkempt and tousled, which was questionable because there's no way he slept, right? I was very sure he could hear my heartbeat because that sucker was betraying me and beating way too fast.

I could not form coherent thoughts for another full minute or so. I am not even holding back, he genuinely looked so attractive he quite literally stole my breath away. All I could do was mumble nonsense while staring at him like I misplaced my glasses.

"Detective, are you alright?"

"What? Me? Yeah, no problem, bud." Bud???? I'd have slapped myself if I could.

"Your body temperature is rapidly rising and your heart is displaying signs of arrhythmia. I suggest we-"

"I suggest we nothing, Connor. I promise I'm fine." See that kids, right there, is what we call a bald-faced lie.

"If you say so. What brings you here, detective?"

"Detective? Come on, we're not at work, man. Chill."

"Alright then, (Y/n), what brings you here?" (Y/n). The way he said my name made me want to explode. Sure, everyone says my name, its my name but oh my god, when he says it, he makes me want to change my last name to his. Which would be Hank's. Huh. That's weird.

"Right, yeah, work stuff. Fowler sent me with evidence for you to analyze. Apparently, they can't wait for the lab like the rest of us mortals." I shoved the file into his hands a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice how my hands were shaking. He noticed.

"Your hands are trembling." Of course he noticed. Connor notices everything.

"I'm just… cold," I lied, despite standing in his very well-heated apartment.

Connor tilted his head slightly, that signature analytical look of his making me want to crawl under a rock. "You appear to be experiencing stress. Should I—"

"Connor, no. I don't need an analysis, I need to… sit down." That was the best I could come up with. Great. Very smooth.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing toward his couch. I moved to sit down, hoping a change of scenery would calm my nerves. It didn’t.

Connor sat across from me, still in those damn sweatpants, his expression unreadable as he opened the file and started flipping through its contents. His focus should’ve made me feel at ease- it was just Connor being Connor- but instead, I found myself staring at his hands. They were annoyingly perfect, like the rest of him, and I couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like if he- nope. No. Abort mission.

"Is something wrong with the file?" he asked suddenly, looking up.

"What? No! The file's fine. Great file. Top-tier evidence. You're gonna love it." Jesus Christ, someone take my mouth away.

Connor raised an eyebrow. "You’re behaving… unusually."

"I’m behaving perfectly normal," I said, crossing my arms in what I hoped was a casual way but probably looked defensive. "Maybe you're the one behaving unusually. I mean, sweatpants? Who are you and what have you done with Connor?"

He blinked, then looked down at himself as if realizing for the first time what he was wearing. "Hank suggested I try some human rituals like pajamas and sleep to better accommodate my deviancy. He claims it’s a key aspect of ‘human relaxation.’ Was this choice inappropriate?"

"No!" I said, a little too quickly. "No, you look—" amazing, perfect, hotter than anyone has a right to look "—fine. You look fine."

Connor studied me for a moment, and I swear I saw the faintest flicker of amusement cross his face. Was he… smirking? Oh no. Oh no, he knew.

"You should consider it," he said, casually returning to the file.

"Consider what?"

"Relaxing. You seem… tense."

And just like that, the ball was back in his court. I was flustered, he was composed, and I was left wondering how I was supposed to get through the rest of this visit without making a complete fool of myself.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

a/n: y'all, this is my first time writing dbh, sorry if it sucks T_T

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 4. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

see masterlist (PINNED) for all parts

warnings: mentions of sex, cigarette and alcohol use. age gap (reader!22)

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

Cont’d.

You were still sat in the parking lot. You wipe your eyes with your hands, smearing your mascara before wiping your nose on the sleeve of your coat as you turn on the engine. The radio begins to play Don’t You Want Me by The Human League. You groan as you change the station. Heart Of Glass by Blondie begins to play instead.

“No, nevermind. I hate my life.” You say bitterly, turning off the radio entirely. You begin to drive away with The Corinium in your rearview. “God this is so fucked!” You exclaim to no one, trying to keep yourself level enough to not crash the hunk of metal on wheels.

You manage to drive the rest of the way in complete silence back to your home. You put the car in park, resting your forehead against the steering wheel to cry, very loudly, once more.

A passerby and her child both stare at you like you were mentally unwell, causing you to forcibly smile through your tears and give them a thumbs up. As they clear out of view, you sigh and finally get out of the vehicle.

You kick off your shoes as you enter your apartment, throwing your coat over your armchair. You open your fridge in an instant, pulling out the bottle of wine Taggie had gifted you a week ago.

"Incase of any personal celebrations, y/n." She had told you. To be fair, she never said you couldn't just simply drink it to wallow in pity.

Two hours later and one wine bottle down, you're loudly doing karaoke to your favorite radio station. You've barely had anything to eat due to stress that day, and the alcohol was getting a real grip on you. You're laying on the couch, slurring your lyrics as the phone begins to ring incessantly.

"Go away...!" You moan, covering your ears with a throw pillow. It goes off once again, causing you to finally get up and answer.

"Hello who is this? What do you want?” You say, barely coherent enough for the person on the other end.

"Y/n? Where are you?" You hear Declan say, lots of commotion in the background. He was definitely at Bar Sinister, celebrating with everyone else.

"Home, obviously. You called my landline." You say in annoyance, leaning against the wall.

"I mean, why aren't you here? I wanted to see you and... and talk about things." He says quietly. You could imagine him at the pay phone in the corner of the bar, hiding his conversation from everyone else.

"I'm not coming there." You mumble into the phone, toying with the cord. "Your wife doesn't want me anywhere near you, didn't you know that?" You ask in confusion.

There's a moment of silence before Declan speaks again. "No, I didn't." He says. "That's... I had no idea, y/n. I'm so sorry for bringing you into this." He mutters with an incantation of disappointment behind his words. "I am my own person, I hope you know that. My wife isn't allowed to choose what I do if she lets herself do whatever."

"I know, but I don't want to be the reason you lose your job Declan, or your marriage." You whisper, trying to not cry once again. "I'm sorry, I'm really fucking drunk. I don't know if I can talk right now." You stammer, trying to hold down the bile coming up your throat.

"I understand y/n. But please, let's talk about this." Declan pleas.

"I have to go, I don't feel so good." You hastily hang up the phone, nearly falling over yourself as you make it to your bathroom. You lean over the toilet on your knees, throwing up into the porcelain bowl. You can hear the phone ringing again, but you have no power to answer it again. You lean your head against the seat, groaning. At least you felt a bit better after throwing up.

You eventually get up, retrieving some ibuprofen from your cabinet and popping two in your mouth, running the sink and dipping your mouth underneath it in order to swallow the pills. You knew your liver was spiteful of you right now, but you didn't care as long as you were going to feel better later.

You bring yourself to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it up with water. You take small, consistent sips in order to avoid puking again. You walk over to your couch and put the glass down on the side table, slumping into it as your music continues to blare throughout the living room.

-

You wake up to loud, repetitive knocks on your door, wiping your mouth clear from drool.

"Fuck I fell asleep." You whisper, looking at the clock. It had only been an hour.

You begrudgingly get up, turning down your radio before walking over to your front door. You undo the latch, opening it to reveal Declan.

He turns and faces you, hand on his hips like an annoyed father. You both stare at each other, Declan taking in how disgruntled you looked. Hair knotted, eyes surely puffy. You must've looked insane.

“Declan? How did you know where I live?” You ask, bewildered by his presence.

His face softens when he sees you. "Don’t worry about that.“ He says. “I got worried when you disappeared over the phone, so I came to see if you were okay." He explains.

“Okay… Well, I’m clearly doing great.” You say weakly, gesturing to yourself.

“Y/n, can I please come in?” Declan asks, frowning slightly.

You nod, stepping out of the way to allow him entrance.

Declan had never been in your apartment before, taking in the layout and decor mindfully. "Your apartment, it's very... you." He comments, looking at the black cat clock ticking back and forth on the wall with curiosity.

"Is that good or bad?" You mumble, closing the front door and locking it.

"Good, very good." He says, turning back to face you. "Seb told me you just got up and left before the interview was over. Did that have anything to do with me?" He says, cautiously stepping closer.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm still drunk." You admit, holding up a finger. “But, Maud called me at my desk right before the interview. She found out because I left my stupid fucking bra behind by accident and now I have done irreparable damage.” You breathe out, laughing at yourself so you don't cry.

Declan says nothing, slowly taking you into an embrace. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He whispers into your hair. “I made the choices, not you.”

“But it’s still my fault, too.” You barely say loud enough, a few stray tears leaving your eyes again. You do not reciprocate the hug, simply staying limp in his arms. You had worn yourself down.

“Please, don’t cry.” Declan sighs, pulling back to wipe your tears with his thumb. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Your stomach loudly grumbles, causing you to laugh again. “Sorry.” You say meekly, holding your stomach.

"Have you had anything to eat since this morning?" He asks, furrowing his brows as he grabs your arms.

"No, I haven't been able to keep anything down." You mumble, your stomach grumbling again on cue.

"Jesus, y/n. Please go lay down and watch the telly, I'm gonna cook you something." He says, directing you to your couch.

"I don't really have any groceries. I need to buy some more." You explain as you lay back down, Declan opening your fridge to reveal some skimmed leftovers, two eggs and a block of cheese.

"Mm, I see." He closes the fridge. "I'm gonna go to the store quickly, then. Stay put and keep drinking your water." He says, heading back towards the front door.

"Declan, you don't have to-" You try to say.

"Ah, don't argue please." He turns to you to say. “I’ll be back.” He opens the door and disappears back outside, closing it behind him.

You close your eyes and sigh. With the dull ache in your head and your lack of energy, you had no power to fight with Declan. You were afraid of the consequences of his arrival, but he was just as stubborn as the rest of them. Nothing you could say or do would stop him from giving a damn about you.

About fifteen minutes later, Declan returns. “I hope you like having fruits and vegetables. Taggie’s taught me to be more concerned about my diet, trying to spread the good word.” He says, taking off his shoes after placing two plastic bags worth of groceries on the counter.

“If you can manage to fit all of that in my shitty little fridge, I’ll applaud you.” You say, opening one eye to look over at him. “Thank you Declan. For this.” You say, sitting back up.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m the reason you’re feeling like shit, it’s up to me to change that.” He smiles, although seeming quite tired himself.

“Are you sure you should be here? I’m just worried if anyone–“

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, what I decide to do is on my own volition. I’m a grown man, y/n.” He says matter-of-fact, leaning over your kitchen counter.

“You should be celebrating with everyone. You shouldn’t be here.” You try to say sternly, crossing your arms.

Declan stands up straight, mimicking your body language. “I told everyone I needed to go home. Taggie and Maud already left before I did so I highly doubt they know, nor care.” He explains, opening a box of pasta. “I hope you don’t mind a simple spaghetti dish, I’m not as great of a cook as you or my daughter are.” He admits meekly.

“Do whatever, I’m not stopping you from anything clearly.” You sigh, laying down once more.

-

After you and Declan eat dinner together, he allows you to fall asleep with your head in his lap while watching the T.V.

When you wake up the next morning, you found yourself in your bed with your nightgown on somehow, realizing Declan must’ve, quite literally, tucked you into bed.

A piece of paper from your daily planner lies on your bedside table, picking it up as you slowly read it through heavy eyelids.

Y/n,

I hope you slept well, and had pleasant dreams of home. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay around, I would’ve if I could.

With that being said, I want to give you the choice of whether or not you wish to continue with us. I know that I told you no one can affect my choices, and I am firm with knowing what I want; but I do not wish to ignore your needs or wants. You are your own person as well. I care about you greatly, and have found myself more fond of you as time goes on. However, it is not worth being selfish at the cost of your suffrage.

I want what is best for you, and I hope you do too.

P.S., Leftover spaghetti for you in the fridge.

Sincerely,

Declan

You slowly put the paper back down, tucking your knees into your chest as you wrap your arms around your legs. It was Sunday, technically you had until tomorrow to give him an answer if you were to be kind about time.

What were you going to do? You couldn't deny it; you were beginning to fall in love with Declan O'Hara. Quite frankly, you think he might be feeling the same way. Would he leave his wife for you? That would be ridiculous. Everyone cheats on their partners here, but no one divorces. God forbid, right?

You get up finally after staring at the wall for ten minutes, begrudgingly walking into the living/kitchen space. All your dishes were washed and left out to dry, thanks to Declan.

You smile to yourself, grabbing ahold of the phone off the receiver with an idea. You dial Seb's number, waiting a few moments before he picks up.

"Hello, Seb speaking." He says groggily, clearly had been woken up by your call.

"Seb, hi. Sorry for calling at eleven in the morning." You jest, poking fun at his tired voice considering it wasn't even that early.

"Y/n, nice to hear from you. Is everything alright? You don't sound too well." He asks, yawning.

"Erm, no. I don't feel well, I think I've gotten the flu or something." You say, your hangover making you sound like you weren't lying. "Would you mind taking on my tasks at work for the next few days? Tell Tony for me, he honestly scares me too much for me to call him myself." You admit sheepishly, rubbing your forehead. In full honesty, you wanted to avoid the office like the plague. You were at the tipping point of whether or not you go back to America and pretend none of this ever happened.

"Course, I'm sorry to hear about that. Can I do anything for you? Bring you meds or tea of the sort?" Seb offers.

"No, thanks though. I'm just gonna rot with what I've got kicking around here. My mom's a health nut, she sent me here with all kinds of crap." You say, leaning against the wall.

"Alright then. You got it, madam. Take care of yourself yeah?" He says.

"Will do. See you Seb."

"Bye y/n."

You mount the phone back on the receiver, keeping your gaze on it as you continue to lean against the wall. You debated calling Declan as well to thank him for everything last night, but you fought against it. You'd rather sit and hide until you sorted out your mind before speaking to him again. It was only fair, really.

You walk over to your fridge, retrieving the container of spaghetti. You grab a fork as well, making your way to the couch. You turn on the television and begin to eat the leftovers. You didn't care enough to warm it up, you felt like punishing yourself by eating it cold.

-

As the the week passes, you find yourself indulging in your old hobbies, such as reading and painting. You bought a cheap art set from an art supply store on the shopping strip a few blocks away from your home, and used books from the secondhand shop. Taggie had come to hang out with you twice, chalking up your absence from work due to being homesick. Although your free time was peaceful, you knew better than to waste away instead of going to work.

On the day of Miss Corinium, you had clocked back into work. Seb convinced you to do so, and caught you up with what you missed in the meantime.

"So the Thatcher interview went to James Vereker instead?" You ask in bemusement, walking down the hall alongside your colleague.

"Yep, and Declan did not take it kindly. He took the week off as well, actually. Neither of you have been in until now. People suspect he had more things going on and that was just the final nail in the coffin." Seb says, both of you returning to your desk space.

"Really?" You ask, trying to hide your worries behind gossiping with Seb. It was quite entertaining, really. You wouldn't have expected him to be the nosiest out of everyone else, but you kept getting surprises every other day.

"Yep, drinking like a fucking maniac too." He adds sympathetically. You frown at that statement, becoming increasingly worried for Declan as minutes pass.

"Come on everybody, down to the stage please." Tony exclaims, everyone getting up from their stations.

You make your way down alongside Seb, noticing Daysee hastily walking ahead the two of you.

“Daysee!" You exclaim, the blonde turning around with wide eyes. "I've missed you!" You go to hug her, in which she backs away like a scared cat.

"Sorry, not right now." She quickly whispers, continuing to walk away. She seemed as though she'd been crying.

"What the fuck is happening?" You ask Seb, who shrugs in equal confusion.

As you all make it to the sound stage, you see Declan nearly tripping over his own feet. His eyes land on you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Y/n, long time no see.” He slurs, leaning up against the wall to smile at you.

“Get a fucking grip, O’Hara. What the fuck are you doing?” You seethe, disappointed by his actions.

“What’d mean? The fuck are you doing? Haven’t said a word to me all week.” He mutters, trying to reach for the glass behind you.

You grab his arm tightly, causing his eyes to go wide. “This is not the time nor fucking place for this. I have every right to keep to myself. I’m doing my job and you’re doing yours, right?” You whisper harshly, pushing his arm back to him. You step back and watch as Seb attempts to entice Declan with a mug of water, to which he takes begrudgingly as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Daysee, nice dress." He compliments the blonde as she walks by, who gives him a look of distraught as she begins to cry.

You and Seb instantly look at each other in understanding. He forcefully gives Declan back his blazer before following her.

Declan looks at you with confusion. “What’d I do?” He asks.

“I don’t know, but maybe you can do us all a favour and shut the fuck up.” You retort, following Seb.

-

You were fuming in that control room.

You sat directly beside Daysee, who gripped your hand the whole time. She barely looked at anyone as she called cues, causing you to trace your thumb over her hand as you tried not to frown yourself. She did not wish to speak on it further or make a bigger deal of it, to which you and Seb both respected as the show had to go on.

James Vereker and Sarah Stratton go on to introduce all the judges, your stomach growing a pit as James says Declan's name, the camera cutting to a very intoxciated O'Hara. "Back in the saddle after his indisposition earlier this week." He quips, the camera then moving onto the last and very, very least man on the panel.

"Ex-prebendary from the Church of England, Reverend Fergus Penney." Sarah says, everyone clapping along at the line up.

Daysee's grip on your hand tightens as Reverend Penny appears on screen, causing you to press your forehead to her shoulder briefly as the show continues on.

You watch as the television screens show Declan seeming rather displeased with who he was sat beside. You begin to realize he may know what has gone on, repositioning yourself in your seat as you continue to watch onwards.

Seb attempts to put a hand on Daysee's shoulder, to which she jumps slightly.

"Don't." You whisper, shaking your head at him as he steps back. You wince as you watch Declan barely manage to fill a glass of water.

"Reverend Penney, are you looking for perfection tonight?" James asks after they showcase a lineup of young, fit women.

"Oh... well, perfection is not my concern. The qualities that I'm looking for in the inaugural Miss Corinium, uh, consists of, uh, a healthy body and sound morals." The old man says, causing you to purse your lips. Hypocrite. You think to yourself.

As if Declan has read your mind, he begins to interject. "You filthy, hypocritical, old git." He spits out, standing up to sucker punch Reverend Penney.

The entire control room gasps at the sight, along with the audience.

"What the fuck is he doing? Cut the feed." Cameron Cook exclaims, everyone rushing to end the livestream.

You race over the the viewing glass, watching Wesley Emerson hold back Declan from fighting furthermore.

"You'll get what's coming to you!" Declan yells, pointing at Reverend Penny.

"He's ruined everything." Daysee says.

You turn around, watching everyone stare in dismay. After a minute of standing in silence by yourself, you quickly make your way through the room, pushing the doors open to find Declan.

As you run doing the hall, you hear commotion in the office.

You watch as Declan pins Tony against the wall, then eventually proceeds to take a golf club and throw it through the glass. You gasp, covering your mouth.

Declan sees you, his face dropping as you both stand there, staring at each other.

Without hesitation, you gather your belongings and begin to head back down the hallway, this time going towards the exit.

"Y/n, wait!” Declan yells, following you down the stairs. "Y/n, stop! I need to talk to you!"

You push through the rotating entrance door, taken aback by Freddie and Rupert waiting with a car right in front.

"Y/n, are you okay? Do you need a lift?" Rupert asks, noticing your bewilderment as Declan charges outside behind you.

"No, I have my own car. Thanks though." You say, attempting to walk away.

"I just quit my job." Declan says suddenly, directed towards everyone. You look back at him with wide eyes.

"Get in the car, lads. Let's get rat-arsed." Freddie suggests, Rupert opening the door for Declan.

"Y/n, please let me talk to you." Declan pleas once more, standing in front of you with his back towards the other two.

"Declan," You sigh, looking up at him. "About what?" You ask, throw your arms up then dropping them. You watch him fail to answer, as you two were not alone. "Give it up. Go get rat-arsed, or whatever." You say, squinting in confusion as you say the sentence yourself.

Declan grabs your arm, looking into your eyes. "Please, y/n."

"You’re drunk, Declan." You say firmly, pulling your arm away. “Grow up.” You mutter bitterly.

You watch as Rupert forces him into the car, the door slamming as Declan continues to stare at you through the window. You shake your head in disappointment.

"Y/n..." Rupert says, causing you to look at him instead. "I see how he looks at you." He whispers, smiling with sympathy. "If you really care about him, it's worth fighting for. Believe me." He says, causing your eyes to widen. Did he know too?

"And why should I listen to you?" You say quietly, raising a brow at him.

"Because, I can tell when something is worthwhile than most. Also, between you and me, he seems happier with you around." He adds. "Just trust me." He says, placing a hand on your shoulder before dropping it. "Think about it, yeah?" He finishes, getting into the car before Freddie drives it away.

You stand still for a few seconds, watching the car disappear as you process the day that had fallen upon you. It was rather ludicrous how your first day back after sick leave left you in shambles, but could you expect anything less? Your internship was making you question whether or not journalism was even the career choice for you. It was becoming redundant.

You sigh, making your way to your car.

-

You were sitting in your armchair, attempting to focus on your Murakami novel. Your mind was going a thousand miles an hour, trying to process every single thing that has happened within the past month. It had been two weeks since you last saw Declan, and you were sure you'd never see him again as he did not attempt to reach out to you in any way since his departure at The Corinium.

Tony Baddingham had made you all begin to sign contracts, having to hand them in by Friday as a form of devotion and to not hand yourself off to Declan O'Hara and his band of misfits. Apparently, he was attempting to start up a company to take down Corinium.

As your mind consumes you, you quickly head over to your phone, dialing Seb as per usual.

"Seb speaking." He says.

"Seb, this is fucked up. What is happening?" You ask, biting your nails in a nervous tick.

"I don't know." He sighs. "I can't lose my job, y/n. I have to stay at The Corinium."

"Well, me neither. I'm with you on that." You say. "Do you think Tony's going to start firing us? I can't go back home, this job is all I've got." You explain, your hand white knuckling the cord of your phone.

"No, I don't think so. He’s got us signing papers for god’s sake. What's the worse that can happen? We haven't done anything to make Lord Baddingham think we're with Declan, have we?"

You go quiet for a moment before clearing your throat. "Right, course not. That would be ridiculous." You say, grabbing the back of your neck.

"I'll see you on Monday. It's alright, y/n. We've got each other." He reassures.

"Right, course. Bye Seb." You say, hanging up the phone.

As soon as you hang up the phone, your receiver starts to ring. You pick it up once again in confusion.

"Hello, who is this?" You ask.

"Y/n, it's Taggie." She says quietly.

"Taggie, love, hi. Did you want to come over?"

"...Can I? I feel like my house is falling apart. I could use your company."

"Well of course. Is everything alright?" You querie.

"No, not even in the slightest. I'll tell you once I get there."

"Yeah, no problem. See you soon."

"See you."

You hang up the phone again, groaning loudly. "I swear to god if it is possible to have a heart attack at twenty two it will happen to me of all people." You say to yourself, putting your head in your hands as you rub your face.

About twenty minutes later, Taggie enters your apartment. You gave her a spare key the last time you came over, figuring it would be nice to allow her to come over and keep you company whenever.

"Y/n, I feel like I'm going fucking crazy." She exclaims, taking off her sneakers.

"Do you need a glass of wine or...?" You suggest, already pouring two.

"Well, if you insist." She tries to jest, leaning against the counter as she presses her hands to her temples.

"What's going on?" You ask, sipping your own glass.

Taggie sighs heavily before speaking. "My mum's gone to London, and I don't think she plans on coming back." She says quietly, staring at the counter. "I would be more upset, but I think my parents giving up on each other was a long time coming." She admits, taking a deep sip of her glass.

"What?" You say, nearly choking on your own wine. "Your mom's leaving Declan?" You ask in dismay.

Declan’s washed up attitude was now finally making sense, and you began to feel guilty for not trying to reach out to him. You figured you were doing what was best, but maybe you were too narrow-minded to really know the answer to that one. You couldn’t help but feel a bit excited over the news.

"Yeah... At least I think she is. She left to rejoin the theatre, which means she definitely will cheat on my dad again so I think he gave up on her.” She says quietly.

“I’m sorry Tags.” You whisper, frowning. You hated to see her upset, any person in their right mind could never wish that upon Taggie.

“Not only that,” She continues on. “Rupert and Freddie have created a television company with my father in hopes it'll take out Corinium. Rupert's idea, in order to help my father pay back his debts.” She says, wincing as she finishes off her glass in another large gulp.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Christ um, that's a lot Taggie.” You pause for a moment. “Rupert really cares about you, doesn’t he?”

Taggie shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think he’s doing all this for me, y/n. That’d be absurd.” She tries to argue.

“Right, because he must be so in love with your dad.” You muse, raising your brows.

"That’s not the point!” She groans. “I want you to join us, y/n." She says, offering you a smile. "Well, I want them to hire you so you can leave the Corinium and still keep your work visa. Does that feel sound to you?" She asks, standing up straight.

You put your glass down, engulfing Taggie in a hug. "God, I could kiss you right now." You say, sighing with relief. "Do you really think this'll work? I'm just worried, cause they've got us signing contracts at Corinium." You ask, sitting back down on your stool.

"Mmm, I’ve heard about that myself." She says. "I accidentally came across Charles Fairburn when I was trying to get signatures. He's already willing to be on our team as a mole." She grins. "I'm not forcing you to do the same, but how do you feel about working for Venturer, y/n?" She asks, placing her hand down on the counter.

"Venturer? That's what they've called it?" You hum, picking up your glass and taking another sip of your wine.

You couldn’t figure out whether or not this was a good choice to make. Realistically, this could potentially send you straight back to America. On the other hand, the reason why you took on journalism was to do something you truly loved, which was speaking for the people. You knew if Venturer made it out alive, you’d have a bigger voice on the team.

Plus, maybe it was worth seeing Declan again. Deep down, you still cared greatly for him. It was your own fault that you had confrontation issues and blew up the situation bigger than it had to be.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll do it." You say, causing Taggie to grin from ear to ear.

"Yes! I knew you'd say yes." She cheers, jumping slightly on the spot. “We’re hosting dinner at our house tomorrow night for the team. Care to join us?” She asks, her blue eyes lighting up with joy.

“Yeah, absolutely. How can I say no to a Taggie special?” You grin, the both of you laughing together. You were so grateful for Taggie, it seemed like whenever the two of you spent time together, something always turned around for the better.

-

You find yourself standing front of The Priory the next day. It had been quite awhile since the last time you were there, you couldn’t help but take in the view.

Suddenly, Gertrude comes barrelling around the corner at you. You kneel down, greeting the dog eagerly. “Oh hi baby! I missed you!” You coo, hugging the dog and scratching behind her ears. You hear footsteps, looking up and meeting Taggie’s eyes.

“I’m glad you made it.” She says with a smile on her face. “Everyone’s in the back by the garden. Follow me.” She gestures for you to do so, causing you and Gertrude to both make way to the garden.

As you turn the corner, you’re instantly greeted with Declan’s eyes. Rupert was in the middle of speaking to him when he follows his gaze, smirking when he notices you as well. There were others also sat around the table, a few you recognize and some you don’t.

You give Declan a warm smile, watching him reciprocate it as you sit down across from him, following your nametag.

“Y/n, lovely seeing you.” Freddie says, giving you a classic grin as you chuckle lightly.

“Likewise. It’s been a long few weeks, hasn’t it?” You comment, thanking Rupert when he gets up and pours you a glass of wine. You feel your cheeks warm up as you notice Declan’s eyes never leave you, although you were trying your best to look elsewhere.

“Tell me about it. You’re still at Corinium?” Rupert asks, sitting back down.

“Unfortunately. But erm, if you guys will have me I’ll gladly leave. It just depends on how it’ll go with my work visa and all that. Might have to reapply.” You say, shrugging as you sip your wine.

“We’d be more than happy to do so, y/n. Right Declan?” Rupert quizzes, nudging his frozen friend.

Declan blinks rapidly, clearing his throat. “Right, course. We’d love to have you.” He says quietly, looking down at the table briefly before looking at you again.

“Dinner is served!” Taggie announces, carrying out plates with Caitlin and Patrick, both who have returned home from school.

“Hi y/n.” Caitlin says, giving your shoulders a squeeze after she serves your a plate. You smile at her widely.

“So, how has it been without Maud in the house?” Rupert asks, causing half the table to light up in commotion and the other half to stay quiet.

“Rupert.” Lizzie says firmly, smacking his arm.

“What? Sorry I just wanted to know is all, christ you people are no fun.” He remarks, taking a bite of his food.

“It’s been quiet.” Taggie says suddenly, causing you all to fall quiet. “It feels more peaceful, in a way.” She admits, placing down the last plate of food. “Everyone, please enjoy.” She says, finally sitting down beside you.

You look across the table at Declan, who’s looking down at his feet. You taste the first few bites in silence, keeping your gaze on your plate as you listen to other conversations around you. You decide that maybe it was now or never to have a chance to speak with Declan. You just needed to step out briefly.

“I forgot something in my car, I’ll be back.” You say, getting up from your seat. Declan watches you exit dinner, disappearing around the corner.

“I’ll go get us another bottle of wine.” He says, getting up and re-entering the house.

You figured he wasn’t going to bother speaking to you, your heart sinking as you still walk over to your car incase anyone was watching. You lean up against the beater, biting at your nails.

Nearly jumping to your feet, you hear the front door open, revealing Declan. You realize he must’ve gone through the house to avoid suspicion.

He slowly approaches you, hand in his pockets as he halts about five feet away from you.

You turn to face him properly, clearing a few strands of hair from your face as you cross your arms.

“Hi.” He says timidly.

You’ve never seen Declan so reserved before, it was almost humorous.

“Hi.” You say back. “Nice shirt.” You comment, pointing to the Venturer graphic across his firm chest.

“Thanks. Taggie ordered ‘em. You can have one too if you’d like, they’re inside.” He says, giving you a smile. “Um, how’ve you been?” He asks.

“Been better. Trying to keep myself level, it’s not very easy apparently.” You try to joke, pursing your lips. “I’m sorry about the whole Maud thing. I mean it.” You say, shifting your weight from off the car. “You’ve always deserved better.” You mumble.

He nods slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah well, I insisted she go and be happy. It wasn’t cutting it for her here, she was happier in London and I’m happier here. Nothing stays linear.” He admits, shrugging. “I’m beyond it. I mourned our relationship ages ago.” He adds.

“Do you… miss her, at all?” You ask quietly.

“I miss the person I fell in love with. I think that woman and the one she is now are two completely different people.” He says, smiling sadly.

You nod slowly in understanding. “Do you still love her, then?”

Declan bites the inside of his cheek, pausing in deep thought. “I care about her, but I don’t think she is who I really love anymore.”

You furrow your brows at his response. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

Declan takes a few steps closer to you. “Y/n, I missed you, a lot.” He admits. “The last time I saw you, I figured that you never wanted to see me again. I wanna know if that’s true or not.”

You drop your arms, staring at Declan as your heartbeat increases rapidly. “Of course I wanted to see you. I just– God, you didn’t call me for two weeks Declan. You didn’t even try to see if that was really how I felt.” You try to argue.

Declan scoffs. “I could say the same, y/n. I didn’t call you because I thought you were crossed with me! The way you spoke to me on my last day at Corinium? How can you expect me to reach out when you gave me the impression that whatever this was-“ He gestures between you two. “-was over with.” He exclaims.

“I don’t know! I figured with the note you left for me that I was worth a call, or even a visit! You drive me fucking crazy because I fell for you, Declan!” You exasperate, Declan’s eyes widen at your statement. “Even if you thought I wanted nothing else to do with you, you could’ve at least tried to–!”

“You have feelings for me?” He whispers.

You pause for a moment, scoffing. “Seriously? That’s all you got from that?”

He steps in close and grabs your face, kissing you desperately.

You don’t react at first, taking in the moment as you begin to kiss him back.

-

After about 20 minutes, the two of you are entangled in the backseat of your car. It took you by surprise that it was even possible to have sex in such a small car, but with the right person– anything is possible.

“I missed this.” You say, humming with your eyes closed. You were sitting on his lap with your head tucked into the side of his neck, your bare torsos pressed against each other.

“Me too.” Declan whispers. “So you like me, eh?” He says, tucking hair behind your ear with a grin. The windows were foggy and your skin was sticky, it felt like a scene from a movie.

You pull your head back and roll your eyes. “I wish I would’ve said it in a better way but… yeah, I think so.” You admit, looking down.

He grabs your chin and lifts it up, forcing you to make eye contact again. “When I said Maud isn’t who I really love anymore, I was referring to you.”

“Ohhh… That makes more sense now.” You say, laughing quietly as Declan shakes his head.

“I thought you were taught literacy in school, y/n.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Declan.” You say with a smile. “I could stay like this forever.” You whisper.“But we need to get back to dinner before anyone sees us.” You say, earning another kiss from him. You laugh against his lips, his mustache tickling your nose as his embrace around you tightens. “I’m serious, you idiot.” You muse, smacking his arm.

“We’ll talk more about this later.” He says, winking as he places a firm smack on your arse.

“Hey!” You exclaim, rolling your eyes as the two of you begin to redress yourselves before getting out of the car.

Declan goes back through the house, showing up about two minutes after you.

“Where’s the wine?” Rupert asks Declan, raising a brow as his eyes scan over the both of you.

“Ah, couldn’t find the one I was looking for.” He simply says, making brief eye contact with you as you both sit back down.

You couldn’t help but continuously smile through the evening, even kicking your feet a little underneath the table whenever Declan spoke.

You knew it was going to be difficult to tell anyone, but at least you knew Rupert was on your side, even if that wasn’t the most ideal person. Besides, you had a feeling something was going on between him and Taggie; they basically had sex with their eyes whenever they were in a room together. There was little to hide, and it assured you that Taggie wouldn’t be that distraught with the idea of you and her father. Hopefully.

As the evening led on, guests start to leave The Priory, leaving you and the O’Hara’s to get ready for slumber.

You had just finished up saying goodnight to Taggie and Caitlin when you entered the guest bedroom, smiling when you see Declan laying upon the mattress. He was reading your book, glasses on that made him look like a history professor.

“What’re you doing here?” You quiz, walking over to the bed.

“Mm, my bed felt too lumpy.” He mumbles, placing the book on his chest.

“Is that so, princess and the pea?” You say sarcastically, climbing in beside him. You grab the book and place it on the bedside table, allowing yourself to cuddle up beside him with your head on his chest.

Declan wraps his arm around you, keeping his other hand behind his head as he traced his fingers along your bare arm. “Nice book you’ve got there. Maybe you’d be interested in proofreading my Yeates piece.” He suggests, in which you hum in response.

“I’d be honored.” You smile, looking up at him. “Are you gonna tell anyone about us?” You ask quietly. You were afraid of any answer he was going to give, in full honesty. Having to deal with a public relationship between the two of you may do more harm than good.

“I think I’d have to ask you to be my girlfriend first, y/n.” Declan jests, placing his glasses on top his head.

Your cheeks flush, causing you to hide your face in his chest. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” You mumble, causing Declan’s chest to vibrate with laughter.

“No, don’t be sorry love.” He squeezes your arm, causing you to look up again. “Y/n,” He clears his throat before continuing. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks.

Your stomach flutters as a big smile stretches across your face. “Controversially young girlfriend you say? Yeah… I think I could do that.” You say, sitting up and bringing your legs over to be on both sides of his hips.

“Is that what people call it now?” He muses, looking up at you. “Hm, has a ring to it.” He mumbles, pulling your face into his as he begins to kiss you for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

-

You both had eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms at some point, finding yourself groggily waking up to the sound of commotion downstairs in the kitchen.

Declan is nowhere to be seen, assuming that he had already gotten up for the day.

You sit up and stretch, smiling lazily to yourself. You put on your own Venturer shirt, staying in a pair of pyjama bottoms you had borrowed from Taggie as you make your way down the stairs.

You are greeted with the sight of the Venturer Team once again, everyone discussing something rather solemnly.

“Good morning!” You say, your smile faltering when everyone looks at you with differentiating facial expressions– all mainly of concern.

Taggie walks through the crowd with a frown as she hands over a newspaper, pointing to the cover.

There were photos of you and Declan printed out on the front page, along with Taggie and Rupert. The headlines were accusing of them preying on younger women, most definitely the doings of Tony Baddingham.

You read the article over and over, your eyes widening with every sentence. You shamefully lower it from your gaze, looking at everyone else.

Well, fuck.

-

SHIT…. Fawk… again i know im literally the one writing this but im like 😐🙁😭 why can no one catch a fucking break. brutal

thank you for the support, this series now has over 100 notes just the first part alone YAYY. thank you for your love and devotion. this new part is my gift to you.

i’m hoping to make the next part the last part but i’m quite sure i said the same thing two parts ago so whatever don’t hold me accountable. CHEERS!

as always,

isabel

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove: A Zombie Ghost Story (Chapter Seven)

Summary: He didn’t want to let his little dove go. He wanted to hold her close, feel her warmth and smell her sweetness. He wanted her softness and light for himself. She made the days of his cursed existence so much easier to bear. She gave him purpose, she gave him happiness with every bright smile and light touch. She was giving him his humanity back—he could feel it, his emotions less dulled each day, his mind clearer. He didn't know how to let her go, and return back to the way things used to be. He didn't know if he could. Word Count: 3426 Warnings: still no smut (but Ghost has explicit thoughts again), mentioned past child abuse, mentioned animal death (a zombie's gotta eat), Johnny continues to haunt the narrative (I almost feel like he should get his own character tag at this point, he talks so goddamn much in Ghost's head) Notes: Triple asterisk (***) denotes a POV change as usual, dash asterisk dash (-*-) is a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. AO3, Masterlist

After emptying the remains of the water cooler into a bottle found in the kitchen, Ghost and his dove resumed their methodical search of the town for supplies.

It was a small town, though larger than a village. Ghost knew they wouldn't have the time to search each and every house—right now, he was guiding Lelia to any spots that looked like they might have the essentials. More water, mostly, but also a map of their surroundings. He wanted to find somewhere that his dove could safely nest for the winter, and a town wasn't it. Other survivors would undoubtedly come through looking for supplies of their own—and with only being a day's drive at most from the military base she’d escaped from, Ghost knew those survivors likely wouldn't be friendly.

It did make him wonder, though. What would happen if they did come across a group of good people who were willing to take Lelia in? There was no way he would be welcome to join as well, he knew. He would probably be killed on the spot, unwilling to fight back and risk her getting caught in the crossfire.

He knew what he should do, if they ran into other people: Watch them for a few days, get a sense of if they were the right sort. If they were, lead Lelia to them, and disappear so they could find her. Trail them afterwards to make sure she was accepted, safe, and happy… and then let her go. Let her be with other humans, where she belonged, and not stuck with a monster like him.

He knew that was what he should do. He just didn't think he had the strength to.

He didn’t want to let his little dove go. He wanted to hold her close, feel her warmth and smell her sweetness. He wanted her softness and light for himself. She made the days of his cursed existence so much easier to bear. She gave him purpose, she gave him happiness with every bright smile and light touch. She was giving him his humanity back—he could feel it, his emotions less dulled each day, his mind clearer. He didn't know how to let her go, and return back to the way things used to be. He didn't know if he could.

So, telling himself that it was what was safest for her and only lying a little bit, he prepared her for a journey to somewhere more isolated.

They didn’t find a map that day or the next—no one kept printed maps or even atlases anymore, it seemed, far too reliant on technology—but they did find a long, designer puffer coat that Lelia squealed over happily, as well as a few cases of water bottles. Ghost, who had been loaded up like a pack mule, was relieved to discover a little red wagon in the garage of the house they holed up in on the third night. His dove was so chronically malnutritioned that she couldn't even carry the pack of canned food without needing to stop and rest every half hour—but he couldn’t afford to be bogged down by supplies incase of an attack. The wagon was the perfect solution—he’d drag it along behind him and could easily drop the handle and move to protect Lelia if need be.

Around four days since he’d last eaten, Ghost found himself sniffing her far more than he was comfortable with. So he kept his distance until nighttime, and then repeated his pantomime show of telling her to lock her door and barricade herself inside the room with her supplies. She understood what was happening this time and obeyed without protest, simply telling him to be safe.

When he came back an hour later, she was ready with the dusty toothbrush and tube of toothpaste they’d taken from the house with the water cooler. She even used some water from one of the bottles they’d found—despite his protests—to gently clean his face and hands. It was the most she’d touched him since the last time she’d scrubbed his teeth—though not the first time since. She tended to walk closer to him now, enough that their hands brushed every so often. He’d stopped wearing his gloves entirely, just to be able to feel it a little better. Sometimes she grabbed onto his arm, too, when she saw something that scared her—which was often—or something that she was excited about—which was rare. It was nice. It was better than nice. It was wonderful. Every second of physical contact with her was heaven. It had been hard, keeping her at arm’s length today, but necessary. And now he would make up for it by letting her clean him, which was arguably even better, if a little embarrassing. But he would embarrass himself a thousand times over if it meant he got to feel her touch.

“There’s blood under your mask,” his dove said suddenly, her fingers slipping under the bottom edge of it. He tensed, reaching up to lightly grab her wrist, stopping her from taking it off. He looked horrifying enough with the mask on—if she saw what was beneath it, he knew he would take over staring in her nightmares from whoever Andrew—and God did he want to rip that fucker apart every time her heard her beg him for mercy in her sleep—was.

“Still won’t let me clean under it?” His dove asked, pouting. He just stared back at her, unable to be swayed, not on this. She sighed, but let it go. “Fine. But you have to clean it, then, because the blood starts to smell if you leave it there.”

He grumbled, but accepted the rag from her, releasing her wrist so she could turn around. He removed his cracked mask, looking in the mirror—trying not to flinch at the disgusting sight that greeted him—and carefully, clumsily cleaned up the little bit of rabbit blood that had snuck up towards his nose. He was lucky he still had a nose, he reminded himself.

Once he was finished and his mask firmly back on, he groaned quietly, and his dove faced him again with a smile, toothbrush at the ready.

Five minutes later—he was disappointed it didn't take as long this time, but he supposed that meant the first cleaning had worked—he was spitting toothpaste into the dirty sink, mouth tasting aggressively of mint.

“What did you eat tonight?”

Ghost looked back at Lelia, surprised by the question. Why was she asking? Was she worried he’d eaten a human?

“I had a can of peaches,” she continued, wiping her hands off on one of the dusty towels hanging on the back of the door. “I’d been trying to save that one for a special occasion, but I couldn't resist anymore. I miss sweets.”

His confusion—and slight hurt—faded when he realized she was just doing what she always did: filling the silence with chatter. It was one of the things he appreciated the most about her, after so long with only the groans of the other undead and his own thoughts for company. Although sometimes, he half expected her rambling to be thick with an indecipherable Scottish accent.

Ghost tried to make a bunny rabbit with his fingers, but his dove stared at him blankly. He huffed and then held up two fingers behind her head so she could see them in the mirror. Bunny ears.

“You ate a bunny?!” She exclaimed, horrified. “But— but they’re so cute!”

Ghost just looked at her, shrugging his stiff shoulders. It was the first thing he’d found, and he’d been trying to get back to Lelia as quickly as possible. Cuteness wasn’t a factor he took into consideration when it came to what he ate. Though if it was, it would explain why she was so tempting to him.

“Aye, tha’s a good’un,” Johnny’s voice said in his head. “Yer cute too, an’ I’d still eat ye. Eat yer sweet li’l cunny—”

He immediately shut that thought down. He wondered if the real Johnny was as much of a pervert as the one in his head, or if it was all just Ghost.

“Did you at least make sure it didn't suffer?”

Ghost focused on his dove again, and was alarmed to see that her big brown eyes were wet and wide, her bottom lip trembling. He groaned, his own eyes widening—as much as they could, at least—and he instinctively reached out to try and comfort her. But he stopped short of actually touching her, his hands hovering awkwardly over her shoulders. She was still looking up at him with that wounded expression, and he would have done just about anything to make it go away, so he nodded quickly. The rabbit had barely had time to register what was happening before he’d snapped its neck. At the time, he hadn’t done it out of mercy, but simple practicality—his meal couldn't run away if it was dead—but he couldn't have told his dove that even if he’d wanted to. Which he very much did not.

“Good,” Lelia said, relieved. She still looked sad, but not as much like she was about to burst into tears, now. Ghost let his hands fall back to his sides. “That’s good... I’m sorry. I know you need to eat, I don’t mean to make you feel guilty for that, I just… my first ever pet—my first ever friend, truly—was a little mummy bunny. She lived in the garden on our estate—that was my favorite place to play—and I found her after Father had refused to get me a pet for the dozenth time. I must have made him quite cross, since he struck me right across the face, rather than give me a spanking like usual. It was certainly more effective, though. I didn’t dare ask again. Which is why I was so pleased to find my little Serafina—that’s what I named her—that I helped her raise her babies until they were big enough to go out on their own. I’d bring them food and nesting materials, and I sat guard over them all day, everyday to make sure no foxes came to eat them. It was bittersweet, when I found the nest empty. I was happy they had all made it to adulthood, but I was so sad to see them go…”

The look in her eyes was distant, though not quite as much as it had been when they’d found the leather jacket. It had scared him, that day, just seeing her go suddenly unresponsive as tears began to stream down her face. There were no tears this time, for which he was glad, but his undead heart still ached a bit at her words. Clearly, despite growing up in the lap of luxury, she had been a lonely child, with parents not fit to raise a sensitive little dove like her.

Ghost groaned quietly and lightly bumped his hand against hers, the way she sometimes did when they were walking, trying to ground her the only way he could. He wanted to pull her into a hug, to feel her soft, warm body against his, but he knew that would be crossing a line.

The bit of contact seemed to do the trick, though, her gaze focusing on him again as she smiled once more.

It didn't quite reach her eyes.

***

It was approaching three weeks since Lelia's escape from Andrew, and a little under two since she and Simon had arrived in the abandoned town, when they finally located a map.

It was in the house Ghost had chosen for them to stay in that night. There was a study, nearly untouched, and Lelia had taken the opportunity to explore the packed bookshelves. She missed her own collection very much—she hadn’t been allowed to bring it with her, once she’d gotten married. The only book she’d been able to sneak away was the hand-bound collection of Russian poetry her governess, Ulyana, had given her years ago. The stern old woman was the only person Lelia had confessed her love of poetry to. Ulyana had scoffed and called her a fool girl, but that was just how she was, so she didn’t take it too personally. Especially when she found the book on her nightstand a few days later.

Lelia still had it, kept tucked carefully in her pocket at all times. It had become a notebook, of sorts, where she wrote all her own poems, as well as copied down some of her favorite English ones. But it was more than that. It was the only evidence she had that someone had ever truly cared about her.

Ulyana hadn’t loved her, Lelia knew that. She would have rather been with her own family, raising her own children back in Russia. Lelia didn't understand that when she was little, but she did now. Even still, Ulyana had been more of a mother to her than Lelia’s own.

Lelia shook herself from her thoughts, peeking up from her new copy of Pride & Prejudice to look at Simon. He was standing at the desk, the map spread out in front of him, growling quietly to himself. She was familiar enough with his array of noises by now to know that he was frustrated.

“Is everything okay?” She asked softly. Simon’s head jerked up, jaw wobbling, and then his gaze darted away, his shoulders hunching slightly. Her brows furrowed in concern, and she stood up from the cozy office chair she’d curled up in, setting aside her book and crossing over to him. She laid a hand on his forearm, trying to get him to look at her again. “What’s wrong?”

To her surprise, Simon pulled away. He never pulled away from her touch—seemed to crave it, in fact, if the way his eyes slipped closed and he got all relaxed whenever she brushed his teeth was any indication—and she figured it was because he was relieved he wasn’t alone anymore. She didn’t know how long he’d been a conscious zombie, but any time spent as one had to have been hell. So when she’d noticed the way he always leaned into her hands when she cleaned him, she’d made a conscious effort to initiate more contact between them. Nothing too big—just a brush of their hands here or grabbing his arm to get his attention there—but little gestures that she hoped reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore.

So the fact that he was denying himself the comfort he so clearly got from it? She knew something must really be bothering him.

“Simon,” she said, quiet but firm. “Talk to me.”

Simon looked back at her sharply, growling as he gestured at his broken jaw. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow at him. He knew what she’d meant. They’d gotten quite adept at communicating without speaking, over the last few weeks.

Her zombie glared at her for a moment longer before grumbling in defeat and shoving the map away from him, wordlessly naming it as the problem. She frowned, bringing it back towards them and smoothing it out as she began to guess at the specifics.

“Is the map of the wrong area?” She asked. Simon shook his head. She tried again.

“Is it outdated?” Another head shake.

“Are you having trouble reading it?”

A long pause, and then Simon nodded, avoiding looking at her. It took a moment for her to recognize the emotion in his lowered gaze, the tightness around his eyes and the hunch of his shoulders. Shame.

“I have a hard time reading maps too,” she said, quick to reassure him, hating that he was feeling down about himself. He’d done so much for her—he was the reason she was alive. She was beyond grateful for him. “Even Google maps. I always ended up lost when I tried to use it.”

Her words seemed to have the opposite of their intended effect, though, as he just grew more agitated, stomping away from the desk and lashing out. He punched one of the bookshelves with a terrifying growl, cracking the wood and sending several flying to the ground. Lelia let out an alarmed noise, flinching violently as she instinctively stepped back and raised her arms to protect her head. Andrew had stopped caring about not hitting her face not long after the world ended. There was no need to keep up appearances anymore, after all.

But no angry blows came her way, and after a moment, she looked up to find Simon sitting on the ground, staring at an open book, jaw quivering where it hung as he tried and failed to speak the words in front of him, the only sounds escaping him being choked off gurgles. Slowly, hesitantly, Lelia approached. As she drew closer, she noticed the minute trembling of his shoulders, and the tremor in his hands as his fingers traced the letters of the first word on the page, over and over again. Lelia realized two things in that moment.

Simon wasn’t having trouble reading the map. He couldn’t read the map. He couldn’t read.

And, much more importantly to her, he was crying.

His cloudy eyes were bone dry, but the noises he made and the way he shook was hauntingly familiar. Lelia’s heart broke, and she lowered herself down beside him before wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. He dropped the book and turned towards her, his own large arms encircling her waist as he buried his face in her neck. Perhaps she should have been afraid. He was a zombie, and although he’d not eaten her yet, he’d admitted to thinking about it when he got hungry—and he hadn’t hunted in a few days, now. Yet she pulled him close, perfectly poised to take a chunk out her neck and feast on her flesh as she bled out. But Simon was crying, and what kind of friend would she be if she didn’t try to comfort him, after everything he’d done for her?

Lelia wasn’t sure how long she held Simon, petting his hair soothingly as he fell apart in her arms. Long enough that her body grew stiff, her bum aching from sitting on the hardwood floor. Long enough that the sun had set entirely, leaving the room in total darkness. Long enough that drool had gathered in her zombie’s mouth and dribbled out, wetting her skin and the collar of her shirt. A little even dripped inside, down her chest.

She didn’t care about any of that. All that mattered to her was being there for Simon when he needed her, like he was always there for her.

Finally, Simon sniffed deeply and then quickly pulled away, letting go of her and moving back, putting space between them. She let him, but only because she recognized the sniff as a sign that she was starting to look a little too tasty to him. He, on the other hand, looked embarrassed, and he actually groaned and buried his face in his hands when he noticed the dark splotch on her shirt. It was an entirely human gesture, and she felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering what Simon had looked like before, back when he was alive…

“I know you need to go find something to eat,” she spoke, shaking the thought from her mind.  “So we’ll figure out the map in the morning, alright? Between the two of us, we should be able to find a way to make sense of it.”

She smiled at him when he looked up at her, and had to resist the urge to hug him again. He still looked so unsure, like a little boy afraid of being rejected—it was a jarring expression on him. Simon always knew what to do, and was always so confident about it, too. She’d seen him scare off dozens of zombies and rip apart just as many without blinking an eye. And yet here and now, in front of no one but her, he was scared. He was vulnerable.

She felt honored that he was showing that part of him to her.

“Goodnight, Simon,” she said quietly, standing up and brushing her fingers against his shoulder as she passed him, unable to help herself. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then she was gone, leaving the study and disappearing into the room she’d chosen for the night.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🤸🏼‍♀️🤸🏼‍♀️*jumps into the asks* HI it's me again🤸🏼‍♀️🤸🏼‍♀️

🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️

😇😇💋

YAY! Hi!

120 for or 1k for 🧜🏼‍♀️ - whatever I hit first:

---

“It wasn’t me that almost drowned,” Buck says. “Even though they think that. I can’t drown. I think? At least not easily. But, uh, no… It was Bobby.” 

“Bobby?” Eddie asks. 

“He was trying to rescue the last living passenger on the plane,” Buck says. “Her leg was pinned. The plane was beginning to sink.”

Eddie purses his lips. Like he’s imagining the whole picture. 

“They weren’t going to make it, Eddie,” Buck says. “I tried to go back for him… But I wasn’t strong enough, and… And Bobby was going to die, right there. He was in a really bad place, then. He wouldn’t have saved himself.”

“Oh,” Eddie whispers. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Buck says. “It was… It was different.”

“So, how did that end up with your sprouting a tail?” Eddie asks. 

“When I thought he was going to die, and there was nothing I could do, I just started wishing,” Buck says. “I wished he would be okay. That I could save him somehow. I remember specifically thinking, I can’t lose Bobby, I’ll do anything, give anything.”

Eddie furrows his brows. 

“And then,” Buck continues. “I was in a lot of pain and confusion and… And then I was this.”

He motions at his tail. 

“And you saved them? Bobby and the passenger.”

“Yeah,” Buck says. “I saved them.”

“And he has no idea?” Eddie asks. 

“No one does.”

For months he’s been entirely alone in this. The better part of a year. 

“Wow,” Eddie says. “That must have been scary.”

“It was,” Buck says. “I didn’t know how to change back. Took me close to a day. I was frantic.”

Frantic actually doesn’t begin to cover it. Buck had been terrified. Completely confused. He was all alone. No idea what had happened to him. No idea if he could ever shift back. He’d had to hide after rescuing Bobby and the passenger, because he knew he couldn’t be seen in this condition. He’d panicked for hours and hours until his body just quit, and he passed out. When he woke up, search and rescue was looking down at him, and he was completely human again. Clothed and everything. 

He still doesn’t really know anything about himself. All he knows is that with enough practice, he has some control over himself. But it’s hard. Exhausting and hard and confusing. Especially changing back or resisting change once he’s in the ocean. But not changing? Not allowing himself time every week or so to shift? Not only does it drive his brain crazy, but it hurts his body as well. He needs the ocean. Sometimes, now, it feels like it owns him. 

“My turn to ask you a question,” Buck says when he sees Eddie thinking a little too hard.

“Right,” Eddie agrees. 

“What made you think I was trans?” Buck asks. “Not that I am bothered by the assumption. I’m really not. Just, there’s a big jump from transgender to merman.”

Eddie sighs. “I think there were just a few coincidences, and I wanted to be right. I was really hoping…”

“To find someone like you?” Buck asks. Eddie nods. “Yeah. Me too.”

“You just said enough things that made sense,” Eddie says. “That you know what it’s like to feel different. That you had to leave a bad situation at home to find yourself. That you don’t feel in charge of your own body.”

Buck thinking about it for a second.

“Oh, yeah. I can see how you’d think that.”

“But the real kicker were the gills,” Eddie says. “I saw the way you hide yourself to change, like me. I saw what I thought were chest scars. I guess I thought that was solid evidence.”

“Chest scars?” Buck asks. 

“From top surgery,” Eddie says. Eddie runs his hands along the lines of pectorals, over his shirt. “Makes it pretty obvious, if people know what they’re looking at.”

“You hide them?” Buck asks. 

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says, like that should be obvious. Buck doesn’t know why it’s supposed to be obvious, though. He doesn’t know enough about anything.

“Hmm,” Buck says. “But aren’t scars kind of bad ass on men?” 

Eddie’s cheeks go pink. “Not these ones.”

“Why not? Is that a rule?” Buck asks. 

Eddie’s lips tightened. “It’s just different.”

“I guess I don’t know enough to argue, but I think it’s still cool,” Buck says. 

Eddie shrugs, blush deepening. “My turn to ask.”

“Go for it,” Buck agrees. 

“Why do you chest gills stay but your neck ones don’t?” Eddie asks. 

Buck touches his neck absentmindedly. The tissue there is always sensitive when he’s like this. “I don’t actually know,” he admits. “I don’t always fully change back. Sometimes a scale or something is left behind. The chest gills always are.”

[deatheaterv]

THIS IS RIDICULOUS

pairing : slytherin!draco x gryffindor!reader

genre : fluff

warning : draco might be ooc

summary : “this is ridiculous,” he thought. why on earth would a slytherin fall for a gryffindor? a nasty, filthy human being. but guess what? he couldn’t resist the feeling.

draco malfoy finds himself in an unusual dilemma—he has feelings for you, a gryffindor, and it drives him crazy. to him, it’s ridiculous. why would someone like him, a slytherin, feel anything for someone like you? yet, despite his efforts to deny those emotions, he can���t stop stealing glances at you during meals or noticing every little thing you do.

during dinner in the great hall, blaise catches him staring at you, again.

“draco, seriously. what’s wrong with you?” blaise teases, his voice pulling draco out of his daydream. draco denies everything, insisting blaise is imagining things, but the blush on his cheeks betrays him. blaise doesn’t let it go, continuing to push draco until the latter storms off to avoid further embarrassment.

you, on the other hand, notice draco’s behavior but are unsure how to interpret it. you’ve caught him staring at you multiple times, and sometimes he looks flustered when you lock eyes, but his sharp tongue and sarcastic remarks don’t exactly scream “interest.” it leaves you confused and slightly annoyed.

one day, while walking through the halls, you overhear blaise teasing draco again.

“just admit it. you like y/n,” blaise says, his tone amused.

“no, i don’t,” draco snaps, though his voice lacks conviction. “i hate her, she’s disgusting. a filthy mudblood.”

the words sting more than they should. is that really how he feels about you? you decide to keep your distance, not wanting to deal with whatever complicated feelings he’s stirring in you.

but draco feels the change immediately. you stop meeting his eyes, no longer acknowledge his presence, and the space between you feels unbearable. it drives him mad. blaise notices his frustration and finally calls him out.

“you’re miserable because you messed up. go fix it.”

one evening, you’re sitting alone by the black lake, enjoying the quiet, when you hear footsteps behind you. turning around, you’re surprised to see draco. he looks nervous, hands stuffed in his pockets, and avoids your gaze.

“what do you want, malfoy?” you ask.

he hesitates, then blurts out, “i don’t hate you.”

you blink, caught off guard. “what?”

he sighs, sitting down next to you but leaving some space between you. “i said i don’t hate you. in fact, i think about you all the time. it’s… exhausting, really.”

you stare at him, unsure if you’re dreaming. “so, all those glares and rude comments…?”

“i was being an idiot,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “i didn’t know how to deal with… this. with you.”

you feel a smile tug at your lips. “you’re still an idiot, malfoy.”

he glances at you, a small smirk forming. “i’ll take that.”

before you can respond, he leans in just a little closer, his eyes searching yours. the space between you both feels electric, your breath catching in your throat. then, without another word, his lips gently press against yours in a soft, unexpected kiss. it’s brief, but enough to leave your heart racing, and when he pulls back, his smirk is replaced by a quiet, almost shy smile.

“guess that wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs.

you laugh softly, still a little stunned. “yeah, maybe not.”

from that moment, things change between you and draco. it starts with small gestures—sitting closer during meals, exchanging knowing glances, and even sneaking off to spend time together.

though he’s still draco—snarky and sarcastic—there’s a softer side to him that he only shows you. he surprises you with his wit, his charm, and his surprising vulnerability.

and for draco, being with you is both terrifying and exhilarating. you challenge him, make him question his beliefs, and bring out the best in him. for once, he feels like he doesn’t have to hide who he truly is.

as the months go by, the lines between slytherin and gryffindor blur, at least for the two of you. and while the rest of the school may raise their eyebrows at the unlikely pairing, neither of you care. after all, what’s life without a little risk?

[do-u-know-this-autisticcharacter]

Do You Know This (non-canon) Autistic Character?

Propaganda

This post which says:

He only eats fish (mackerel) ("You like mackerel too much" is a running gag)

He loves water because of the way it feels (sensory seeking)

He's the only one who sees a difference in his swimtrunks (he likes some better because the way they feel/they fit differently) (hyper sensitive sense)

His special interests are swimming and mackerel

When trying to convince others to swim, he mimics the way he thinks you should do it (with no regard to social cues) (masking)

Limited facial expressions (unless it's about swimming)

He doesn't care about swimming time, records and winning

He has a set routine

"I only swim free."

Is often seen providing support by sitting quietly beside people // or engaging in a conversation with his back turned to the group.

Tendency to give entities human feelings ("Maybe the water hates him" // "I thought I should ask water about matter that involves the water.")

Appears blunt but cares deeply (asks outright if people are okay /// "we're not going to discuss it (about something another character finds uncomfortable)" // gives things freely to children)

Straightforward

Takes his promises very seriously

"He's actually looking at the camera for once."

"Knowing Haru he probably doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now."

Trying to understand his feelings through thinking // struggling to name feelings

He never uses his phone // doesn’t bring it with him // "Haru usually doesn’t carry his phone around with him."

He remembers small things about his friends and then gifts really meaningful gifts

When he knows how he feels he shares his feelings openly and without shame (and with an abundance of eye contact used to drive home his sincerity)

He notices people when they're sad // really perceptive // notices differences in behaviour (pattern recognision)

"You're supposed to smile for pictures." // "Haru is always smiling on the inside."

My man does not care about social norms (is always ready for a dip, no matter where he has to strip).

"I don't care about winning," (i love this boy)

"You're too easily impressed, Haru-chan." (Once again, I love him)

As kids Haru sometimes wouldn’t talk, and instead Mokoto would "translate" how he felt (i almost cried 😭)

"You're so cold," (i hate this)

He litterally just went to Australia because Rin asked him to without knowing the language + without doing any planning just trusting Rin– and then felt panicked when he thought Rin left him (... I once went to Italy with a girl because she said she wanted to and I didn’t get that it was meant to be a joke... until we were already in Italy and she told me she it was a joke but she was glad I took it seriously. She planned everything and I just followed along because I trusted her. Rin also said he didn’t expect Haru to agree, so yeah. I don't know)

"It was my first fight (with him)" (relatable dude)

"Hey, c'mon. You could look a little happier... But I guess that reaction is typical Haru." (Seeing someone for the first time in a long time)

"That’s really impressive," Haru says. "Hey," someone else says. "You're supposed to laugh at that!" (Once again, relatable dude. I don't get the joke either)

"What did you talk about?" *Haru answers truthfully* *the other person makes noises of disbelief*

[silentsockfeet]

with the obvious addendum that act 3 isn’t out yet and we can’t form true opinions until the show’s officially done, i’m still really feeling like it could have maybe benefited from a third season. they’re hitting all the right plot points and those moments are full of really intense emotion, but everything in the middle feels so underwhelming in comparison and so much of it still feels rushed to me. idk

[transingthoseformers]

CYLAS was such a fucked up concept and I wish we would've saw more of him

There are soooo many possibilities when it comes to a human becoming a decepticon in the way that he did, even if we brush aside the body horror aspects (which I DO love those) it would have been so fun to watch him try to puzzle out a place among the strict decepticon hierarchy and all the fun little bits that come with going from human to living machine (while also still kind of being both)

[simgerale]

me after attempting to get back into sims and realizing i had a lot more to do than play the game

[revelboo]

Could we perchance get more Ironhide?

I love your writing btw, and can’t help myself from checking your blog every so often(every single day) for updates:) I live for this kinda stuff

Thank you!

Hold Me Down Pt 2

Ironhide x Reader

• Engine roaring, he accelerates and feels your head smack back against the headrest, getting flattened back into the driver’s seat. And there goes your calm, screaming your head off as he takes a turn too sharply. “I’d put your seatbelt on, darlin.’” He says, struggling not to crack up as you claw for it and fumble until you get it clicked in. Having a complete mental breakdown inside him.

• Feeling your heart racing, you dig your fingers into your thighs, afraid to touch the wheel as it freely spins and turns. This has to be one of those freaky self driving cars. Or it’s possessed by a demon just to punish you for your sins. As it’s deep laughter rumbles around you, you’re betting on the latter. “Please, I don’t want to die.” You moan as you get slung around when it turns again.

• Regretting your life choices, yet? Because this is the most fun he’s had in a long while. Listening to your caterwauling and begging, like music. Up until the blue lights flicker behind him with the angry woop of a siren. “Frag me,” he snarls, spotting the human cop car speeding after him. Because nope. He’s not getting impounded today as much as his little thief deserves to get thrown in jail for a timeout.

• Head craning to see the cop on demon van’s bumper, you almost start bawling as it accelerates again to leave the cop in the dust. And you’re thankful for the seatbelt as you get knocked around when he swerves down a side road. Risking whiplash as the tires scream around a curve and your head bangs against the side window.

• Fragging cop. Fragging human in his driver’s seat, too as you slump forward and he has to cinch down the seatbelt to keep your limp form off the wheel. Because now he’s well and truly fragged himself. He’d planned on just scaring you straight and dumping you on a side street babbling about possessed vans and too scared to try anything like that again. Thanks to that cop, everything’s gone sideways. And guilt won’t let him just dump you on the side of the road out here in the desert sun. Running through every swear he knows until he’s repeating himself, he gives up. Starts heading back to the Ark, hating himself and you, because he just saddled himself with a little thief without meaning to.

Previous

[rileys-battlecats]

was trying to figure out why I feel so Wrong rn and I think it's because I didn't follow my usual daily routine like At All and now my brain is freaking out. woke up at a vastly different time, had entirely different tasks throughout the day, took a nap at a weird time (to make up for the fact I had about 3 hours of sleep last night), zero human contact for the past 15 hours, and ate different food from usual (various leftovers from social events/thanksgiving, instead of cooking for myself like normal). and before I really realized that these were all things that were Bad For My Brain I was just wandering around my house like "why do I feel like garbage?? I've literally been outside so much today my brain should be happy"

ANYWAY here's to me not remembering I have issues with unstructured living because my days have been so similar for the past 4ish years that I straight up Forgot that things being too different too fast makes me crazy ✌️

[windor-truffle]

if I had a nickel for every sidequest involving Sophie and the death of a child/childlike humanoid I'd have... wait 5 nickels?? jesus christ Sophie I'm so sorry 😟