#done with excusing or Understanding why i am being treated the way i am

[bending-sickle]

done with saying “she’s being a bitch because she’s tired” or “she’s being a bitch because she’s stressed” or “she’s being a bitch because she’s sick”

like maybe she’s just being a bitch

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY KARLACH *  assorted dialogue from baldur's gate 3

i can't tell if you're flirting or threatening me. i'll take either one.

don't want the youths to think i'm not, you know, up with the times.

sometimes i look at you, and i just don't have words for this feeling. you are everything i ever hoped for. everything i thought i could never have. never deserve.

i just love listening to you speak.

i know i can make you melt.

i want all of you.

i don't think i have it in me to share.

will you stay with me? when it's time.

what the fuck is happening to us?

you know, [name], i'm not sure i can trust you anymore. you're... different. a bit scary, to be honest.

i'm sweating bullets. what if i blow our cover?

it's good to see you smiling, [name].

look at you. the years have been good to you.

we're in the city on some urgent business, but can i come find you when it's all settled?

whose idea was this? was it mine? am i insane?

i'll rip your tongue out, you liar.

you can't possibly believe this shit.

what i wouldn't give for another hour together. another minute.

i can't believe you saw that. you're too young for that.

once you start, it's hard to stop.

now there's a name i'd hoped never to hear again.

this is it. i can practically taste his blood from here.

you're asking a lot. but i can wait - for a while, at least.

i don't want to put you in harm's way either. i'll wait for now.

now you're speaking my language.

sorry i haven't visited. i've been... away. but i'm back now! and i brought friends.

i miss you so much. but i'm happy. and getting up to some really important shit.

i just want to understand. i just want to know why.

the fucker has to die.

this handwriting looks familiar.

do you know what you're doing?

sorry, i think you have the wrong person.

would you believe me if I said i've got to save the city?

i love good news.

glad to see you're so well set-up here.

if we can help them, we will.

could i see your wares?

you'll still be able to do your wizard thing, though, right?

i wouldn't mind doing a little shopping in the city.

to have someone who cares about you and throw them away... i don't know how you do it.

sounds like more your thing than mine.

i was just thinking the same thing, but less poetically.

you're good at staying in character. i'll give you that.

i was just being nice.

what a pesthole. can't wait to clear this place out.

i smell a fight brewing.

care for a dip?

it looks good on you.

good to know love is on the table though.

how could we let this happen?

let's just keep moving. i don't want to talk.

this place is absolutely beautiful. what a wonder.

hey, can i try something on you?

my heart isn't a toy, got it? treat it like one and you're going to get burned. badly.

my heart is telling me i love you.

if i didn't know better, i'd say you're falling in love.

will you excuse me?

you'd better step away before i do something i regret.

i'm glad you chose me.

you give me chills, baby.

i'm not going anywhere. i've got plans for the future, you know. and they involve you.

to be honest, i'm kind of shocked you chose me.

if i can have you back, i've got a place for you here. cozy. warm. safe. and you can stay as long as you want.

it sounds like you really meant it.

revenge sounds so sweet until you've taken it. then all you have is... no one left to blame.

you know, for a while there, i wasn't sure you'd come back. but look at you. you've done what few could ever do - created your own path.

is it almost time for dinner?

don't tease me. my lonesome heart can't take it.

you really are the best of the best. of the best.

you know i'd do just about anything for you.

if he lays a finger on you, i'll break it off. that's a promise.

what's on your mind?

you and me. let's imagine. we have a whole life ahead of us. what do we do?

i'd love for you to show me where you came from. hear your stories. meet your people.

no moment is guaranteed. except this one. and this one. and maybe this one too.

i'm going to live. i get to be alive. i get to stay.

i've never felt better. like i'm finally complete.

and here i thought you had half a brain. how wrong i was!

i love you. and i know you'll choose your destiny, and choose it well.

you're lucky i love you.

you hear me? you're all i could ever ask for.

come on. there's something i want to show you upstairs.

i will miss you. but i wish you luck.

[2698rr]

Polaroids [ ◉¯]

jason todd x f!reader | fluff | 1.7k words | other works & ao3

single mum reader with neighbour jason ʚїɞ

— ʚїɞ — —ʚїɞ— —ʚїɞ—

the city could be quite peaceful, you had learnt.

when the late hours mingle, the yelling gets softer and the ever present jazz music dwindles. it’s so very peaceful.

before everything, before the baby—before you’d ended up where you were, you weren’t one to stay up past midnight.

always having one excuse after another for why you shouldn’t. however, with the incessant cries from your daughter—no matter what hour that is, you’d learnt to appreciate the night.

it wasn’t the best time for gotham. when the sun sunk low, when crimes could be hidden in alleyways ignored by the council.

but it was.. peaceful, very much so.

the night is when gotham is herself. maybe that’s why you sat there, in a rather stained and old chair, a baby to your chest as you hummed to an old song you listened to as a teenager, absolutely appreciating her beauty.

the small lump against your chest squirmed, her breaths getting louder only to grow into its peaceful rhythm again. your fingers tapped against her back softly as you found the beat to your song.

and, as if on cue, a certain neighbours boots thumped as he landed into his apartment. every night.

and you’d, only minutes later, land into your own bed with the crib beside it.

you hadn’t meant to learn his identity, it had happened early on when you first moved in. when you could barely remember his name and only knew him as the guy who bought sandra’s dog treats.

but, that aside. you hadn’t meant to find it out. it had been a stressful night, you’d finally gotten the baby to bed and you’d given a drawn out groan when you’d noticed the sun was peeking over the hundreds of buildings.

you’d stepped out onto the fire escape, needing some ‘fresh’…air. you hadn’t been a mother long, it was all weighing on you. and the fact your daughters father had so mysteriously vanished ..well, it was truly too much for you to bare.

but then you saw it, he had grappled in, using some sort of gadget. he’d lifted himself up, his leather jacket squeaking as he moved. he had thumped against the metal and given a modified groan.

and then he heard the shuffle of your dressing gown, he had snapped his head to you and tilted it. you remember being able see the way his shoulders drew in, the extra breath he gave and the tense curling of his hand in and out.

but, nothing was said.

and so, you both ignored it.

he had stopped by the day after, coming by on a false pre-tense. but nothing was said and nothing was done.

that had been a few months ago now, and you could both understand the silence that settled. the understanding.

one thing you had taken a keen eye on was well—he’d begun to show up more. and it wasn’t just for you. showing up with diapers, some baby food you remember telling him your daughter liked—and much more.

it was almost too much, too much for you to be able to repay without feeling guilty. but anytime you even tried to refuse he’d justified why you’d need it.

‘she’s six months now, right? she needs the peas, needs to grow strong’

‘Aw cmon, snow is picking up and the tiny fleece jacket will be great for time outside!’

‘she needs a teddy, needs to remember who i am..’

the last one had left you spiraling, not by what he said. (well, partly) but by how he worded it, the almost anguish layer that hovered over the words.

you’d sucked in a breath that time, just giving a nod as you watched your daughter wrap chubby (carrot juice stained) fingers around his arm, hardly getting an inch around the large muscle.

and she, well she’d grown fond of jason.

from paintings of jason with a massive splotch of black to signify him (in almost every painting there is just a large smack of black.)

to late nights, when the baby wouldn’t sleep and you were almost in tears, when your neighbour would lay on your couch. shirt off and the small baby grumbling to itself on his chest.

and to.. “Ja!” she cried, she had just learned to crawl and she was on a mission. jason stood by the poorly lit hallway, jacket still on and coated in rain with a bag of god knows what digging into his fingers.

he gave a boyish smile, his eyes crinkling and his head tilting slightly. he moved to his knees as he softly placed the bag down and gave a laugh.

“Well look at you go!” he says, and the encouragement alone has your heart beating. you stare from the place you sit, the old carpet resting your feet as you watched.

watched the large pound of man curl into himself, lower himself as much as he can to look at your daughter. watch as the ‘anti-hero’ deemed of pain,bring a finger out so she can curl around it and he can lift her up.

and watch as he holds her to his chest and rests his gaze on you, ruffling the hair that was slowly growing on your daughters head as her cheeks grow puffy and she grows giggly.

“Let’s say hi to your mommy” and he’d point, his head moving closer to your daughter as he’d give a brief glance only to look back at you. mouthing a ‘hi’ as he giggled in sync with your daughter.

you didn’t know when it happened, when moments such as these caused you to erupt into a bundle of softness, when you’d spend nights together in silence as tranquil as lavender.

when you’d crawl over his lap, the two of you whispering hushed apologies for what you knew what was inevitable, before eventually pressing your lips together.

when he’d lower himself ontop of you, only to make sure you were silent for the sake of the baby.

when… you slipped up and referred to jason as your daughters father, only for him to give a brief swallow and then nod to the old woman who had complimented the tiny hat she had on.

and then, it became nights where you’d trace a finger over every scar. both naked without any need to grow hot. he’d recount every one, every one he can remember at-least.

when your heart aches too much at the sound of the dread in his vocals you’d cease the questions, instead opting to kiss the side of his head.

it was never said, not verbally. but it was understood, almost like everything else in the growing relationship.

something had kindled, something deep and permanent.

jason would watch you scurry around as you searched high and low for the perfect stuff for daycare, he’d wrap two arms around you tight enough to calm you as you babbled on about how you’re not ready.

“is she old enough..” you’d sob out, tears clinging to the fabric of his shirt as snot rubbed up against it. “She’s nearly a year old, it’s best we put her in now, before it’s too late..”

he’d be there for you the day you drop her off, making sure to hold you tight enough you don’t rip out of his arms to retrieve your daughter once she begins crying herself.

he finds out a month later that you put him down as the other parent, and with that newfound knowledge he begins to do pick up’s and drops offs.

he’ll stomp in, blood and dirt sticking to him as he quickly washes up with the water from the kitchen sink.

shaking you awake softly to find out where the bag is, where her change of clothes is just incase, finding anything and everything she would need.

on pick up nights he’ll stop by right before patrol, shedding his red hood helmet and jacket and retrieving his daughter.

his daughter.

the first time he thought that, said it out loud he’d needed a minute to himself.

however, a week later when the three of you are out and he’s asked if it is his daughter, he holds his chin high and smiles.

for her first birthday he thought it’d be hilarious if it was red themed, he was too happy picking out banners and balloons for you to disagree.

your daughter had minded the coulor, instead opting to laugh as the balloons squeaked.

the first time dick met her he had been shocked. mainly because he thought he was a horrible brother, not picking up on the fact jason had had a daughter.

only for jason to laugh and explain the story. and from then on dick was ready to be an uncle, jason had pulled him up on it.

jason may be rekindling it all, but he had found himself a home, found himself a need to push through the many stab wounds or punches, the many iron tasting nightmares.

and he wasn’t too fond of dick—or any of the others, pushing themselves into something that was his own.

“Happy birthday to you!!” You laughed out, eyes on your daughter. jason remained by your side, hand on your hip as he watched, watched the two of you.

his two girls.

the polaroid photo taken of that moment showed the admiration, the way his eyes glistened as he adored the two of you.

the polaroid photo had also been copied, it’s on his fridge, it’s on the back of his phone, in his wallet.

and now, as he sits there, listening to you ramble on about her getting sick—causing you to grow sick, the stuffy nose and congested voice softens him a bit—about how you lost the fleece jacket and you shouldn’t of taken her outside.. he can’t help but smile.

the rains pattering on his shoulders, the cold is sweeping underneath his jacket and he’s crinkling the polaroid in his fingers, but he feels warm.

“go to bed, baby.” you gave a laugh, a little deeper due to the sickness, he can hear the sheets ruffling as you sighed. “I’ll be there when you wake up.” he added on.

and with that you said your goodbyes, he slid the polaroid photo back into his phone case, and he got ready to show his daughter the new teddy he got her.. in the morning though.

— ʚїɞ — —ʚїɞ— —ʚїɞ—

author notes! (skip if u want to) so i kinda disappeared after doing that poll, my apologies! however im going to try and now quickly get it all done to make up for it!

this wasn’t made how i normally make my fics, so tell me if u like the way i wrote it this time idk! anyway, hope you enjoyed and with all love.. shady!

my work is to not be copied and especially not to be given to a.i.

[judaismandsuch]

An Open Letter to Dropout

@dropoutdottv I am disappointed in you.

I know that this will not change your policy, nor will you make a folloe up statement, as proportion wise the number of people you have lost from your last post, vs. the number of people you will lose should you make an apology and walk back the statement are not in any way the comparable.

But you have failed your Jewish audience.

A group of your viewers accused an openly and actively Jewish guest on one of your shows of being Zionist. Despite him not making any statements since the few days after October 7th.

So you made a statement, saying that no one you have had on identifies themselves as such. And that even if anyone did you would give them the room to grow, and learn, and repent from such a horrific view.

That you condemn the genocide. Which hasn't been found to be a genocide by the international court. Which has a death toll of combatants-to-civilians far less than even just the bombing of Dresden of WWII. An event can be horrific without being genocide. But calling it 'monstrous' or 'horrific' wouldn't have placated people.

Though I noticed that you haven't spoken about the genocide (or at least, wide spread persecution and inhumane treatment) of Uyghurs in China. But that may lead to you becoming completely banned in China. Which could impact your bottom line.

You will give more money to PCRF, and you encourage people to donate to UNRWA.

What is wrong with you?

What is it, that an accusation of 'Zionist', which can mean anything from "Israel exists now, and it no longer existing is bad" to the Kahanist definition, requires an immediate response and excuse?

You continue to recommend supporting UNRWA, despite documented proof that UNRWA members took part in October 7th.

In your first milque-toast response to your Discord's meltdown on the subject you supported JVP, and mentioned that there are several equally horrific events going on around the world.

But you haven't supported any of the other causes.

Several of them are far worse than what is happening in Gaza, but you haven't raised a cent for them.

You continue to tacitly support JVP, despite any affiliated Jew saying that they are clearly not Jewish. There practices show that they don't understand Judaism, and their founders and board of directors is mainly non-Jews. They have a page on ADL describing all the Antisemitic acts that they have done. But you still keep a pinned post in support of them.

Why aren't you fundraising for WCK? They do good work in Gaza, and unlike the rest of the groups you platformed, they haven't had a single accusation of association with Hamas.

But, you treat a baseless call of 'Zionist' as if it were a nearly credible call of 'Nazi'.

You make a post on this, the day before the American Election, but haven't even done a single 'go out to vote' post?

What is wrong with you?

Are you afraid that because @samreich is Jewish, if you don't get in front of demands that all obvious Jews you have on demonstrate their alliance with 'the cause', people will start to ask if Sam Reich is 'one of the good ones'?

To be clear, this isn't antisemitism.

This is performing for an audience that doesn't realise that a witch hunt for Jews, demanding that the Jews show that they are 'good jews' is in fact antisemitism.

This is focusing on one conflict to the exclusion of all others. Perhaps Myanmar and Sudan just aren't that important. Afterall, no one is talking about them.

Feeling the need to address baseless accusations thrown on obvious Jews that haven't performed well enough.

You have sent your message.

I am unwelcome.

I hope it was worth it

[dadsbongos]

How the mouthwashinglings fare with a possessive/clingy partner bc i am projecting

~

CURLY

Is it possible to groom a 40 year old man when you’re younger than him?? Probably, and it looks like you did it

No matter how early into your relationship, Curly cannot pick out any reason why his friends are so concerned with you

Honestly he gets annoyed when people question the imaginary leash you’ve got him on

Loves seeing a bajillion (seemingly innocuous) texts from you when he goes out with the guys. A flurry of thoughtless updates of your night and random ideas sandwiched around a not-so innocent “so who’s all there with you?”

I’ve mentioned it before but those little beeper bracelets for couples, he would absolutely wear one even if it was a full blown tracker

Would make excuses for your behavior too: “they’re just anxious! they just really love me! all the attention is kind of nice, actually!”

And god forbid anyone try asking if he’s done anything to make you this way. He firmly denies it, even getting a little offended, but then rationalizes your actions anyway: “people cheat on people all the time, it’s an understandable fear!”

Nobody can get through to him because he clearly loves it

JIMMY

THRIVES!

In a toxic way, though

Intentionally acts out to piss you off because he thinks it’s hot, the idea of what you’ll do to him when you get your hands on him

Turns off his location (which he always thought was immature anyway lol), talks to other people with that cocky grin and dark lidded eyes, tells you that his exes wouldn’t treat him this way

Secretly loves feeling so needed that you’ll die without him, it instills this sense of importance he’s never had before

So when he knows he’s gone way over the line, he’ll really baby you to make up for it

Still talks out of his ass because he’s not that gentle, but will cuddle you and tell you how badly he needs you in his life and how sexy your brand of crazy is

Psycho mfs your neighbors hate you

ANYA

NOT WELL!

Anya is arguably most well-adjusted person when it comes to romance and she can see the walking red-flag that you are

Initially she’ll try working around the little things to keep you happy, thinking if she can do just that then you’ll drop the nitpicking

Would have a deep conversation with you about it before breaking things off, which at THAT point if you just couldn’t resolve things she’d walk away

I can see that happening pretty early in the relationship, maybe even before you two are comfortable just popping up at each other’s places

DAISUKE

Probably similarly possessive, just to a lower key

Fully believes in sharing locations and having access to each other’s phones and telling each other exactly who is going to this party or that dinner

Because he also gets jealous, he actively avoids riling you up rather than instigating it

I can see him being one of those guys that tells you when people try hitting on him, usually when boys do that it comes off shitty but Daisuke is so overt

“Babe, this girl tried asking for my number but I told her I was taken and that she should kill herself!”

Honestly probably a relationship that starts when you’re both still 19-21 range and is not sustainable unless you two mature out of it

SWANSEA

Cannot, will not, does not tolerate that bullshit

He is too fucking old to be playing mind games and arguing with some teeny bopper brat about what bars he’s going to after work

HOWEVER he also doesn’t go anywhere besides work and friendly gatherings and he doesn’t have very many friends SO as long as you can temper it, he may not even notice

But he’s also close with his ex-wife especially because of the kids so you’ve got to get over that and if you can’t, he cuts it off pretty cleanly

Almost like a surgery, he can clinically extract you from his life with practically no emotion before sending you on your way

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ proglogue

note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.

warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers

ao3

【next】

it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.

clearly, you'd been too optimistic.

which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order,  whether you were in the field or not.

the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.

the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.

before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.

and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.

but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.

you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.

"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."

"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."

"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."

"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"

"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."

"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."

their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?

as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.

“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”

"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.

"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.

price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.

soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."

you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.

you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.

"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."

you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.

"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.

before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.

✹✹✹

you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.

either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.

"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.

"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.

"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.

"right."

neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.

after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.

"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.

he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.

"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.

"alright, he can be difficult–"

"really?"

"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"

"is he gonna give me a chance?" 

"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"

"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.

"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"

"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.

it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.

you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.

there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.

living room's yours. lock the door. – s

it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.

with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.

[tsukii0002]

A young adult Yuu III

Yuu is isekaied into twisted wonnderlar, but they are a "independent" adult in their 20's, college ended and who is fighting for finding a job and survive.

[Previous] [Next]

Seeing the vision of the King of Beasts.

Yuu: Is this because of age… or is the stress of this world driving me crazy.

Grim: *a magical talking beast*

Yuu: Hum, it could be either.

Ruggie: *trying to flatter Grim into giving him his food*

Yuu: Stay away Grim!!!, teenagers are too cruel to flatter a stranger in such a soft way!!

Yuu: If the blot is similar to the carbon footprint and the gem removes it, it could be applied to global warming?

Deuce: To what?

Yuu: Nothing, existential problems of my generation.

Crowley: There are a lot of things to do, selling drinks…

Yuu: You already want to exploit us again.

Crowley: I'm worried that your pessimism might rub off on the students.

Yuu: It's called being realistic, it's what it is.

Yuu: Ah, that's cool, playing a sport.

Deuce: Did you practice any sport Yuu?

Yuu: Nop, I stopped, when you get older the sport disappears as fast as the flexibility of your knees… besides when you have to survive there is no time for sport… that's for rich people.

Yuu: So the sport consists of throwing a solid iron disk at you with the speed enhanced by magic?

Ghost: Exactly.

Yuu: And couldn't you have chosen a less mortifying sport? I don't know, like badminton?

Grim: Oh come on Yuu, where's your adventurous spirit?

Yuu: *looking at him unhinged* In my fifteens, next to my energy. I'm of an age, and life doesn't give me enough for this.

Investigating by asking the injured

Yuu: Now we're detectives, ha ha, I feel like I'm a moonlighting again.

Riddle, Cater, Grim and Yuu drawing conclusions about the culprit.

Yuu: You are very capable Riddle *smiling*.

Riddle: You think so?

Yuu: You have very good ideas and Cater, it's incredible how much information you can gather. You guys are awesome .

Cater and Riddle: *blushing without understanding why*

Cater: Is this…

Riddle: … To be praised by an adult?

Leona: I know you, you're the one who stepped on my tail while I was sleeping.

Yuu: The student gardener!

Leona: Gardener of what? Failed adult.

Yuu: Hey!! I'm older!

Leona: Yeah, and I am your superior.

Yuu: … Ouch.

Malleus: …

Yuu: …

Malleus: …

Yuu: *looking around*

Malleus: …

Yuu: Isn't it a little late to be awake? do you need help? are you lost?

Malleus: Heh, you've got some nerve treating me like that *disappears*

Yuu: ??????? Should I report the disappearance of one of the students? *panicking*

They find out the whole dorm was involved and everything they have done to carry out their plan.

Yuu: Maybe if you put that energy into other less self-destructive things you would do better!!!!! This is going to be taken into account in the future when looking for a job!!!!!

Jack: What's wrong with them?

Ace: They're just frustrated with the world.

Jack goes to wake up Yuu and Grim in their bedroom.

Yuu: *defeated* even for this I can't set an example.

Ruggie causes the stampede

Yuu: *really angry* This is very dangerous, Nothing, nothing justifies trying to hurt people, they're old enough to understand that!

Ace and Deuce: …

Ace: I think from now on we should warn Yuu before Crowley in an emergency. At least they care.

The whole plan is uncovered, Diasomnia is fine, and Riddle puts a collar on everyone in Savanaclaw.

Leona: *sighing* it's over, I give it up.

Yuu: That attitude… *worried* I think Leona is closer to being an adult like me than a student like you…

Ruggie: *is wounded*

Yuu: *standing in front of him*

Ruggie: What are you doing?!? it's dangerous!!!

Yuu: Shut up!!! Let us adults be responsible for the children!!!!!

Riddle: Why are you doing this with the power you have?!

Leona: You're going to scold me, you?

Yuu: He's not, but I am!!!! Your pain is not an excuse to hurt others!!!!

Jack: *use his unique magic*

Yuu: Is this… you know...*turning to look at Ace*?

Ace: NO!!!

Yuu: Adolescence in this world is a thing….

Leona: *overblotting*

Yuu: WHAT IF THIS SCHOOL HIRED A DAMN THERAPIST!!!!!?

Watching Leona's flashbacks

Yuu: *serious* What kind of adult makes a child feel like this….

The injured ask Savanaclaw to participate.

Leona: Ha, as if a bunch of herbivores could do anything to me.

Yuu: Stop acting tough, *shouting* you're of an age!!!!

Leona: You, SHUT UP!!!

Jack: *offers to help them with the exhibition match*

Yuu: *pointing at him* Like this, kids have to be like this.

Yuu: *waking up after being hit* I missed the game….

Deuce: Hey, don't worry!

Yuu: What kind of adult misses their children's game????

Ace: Since when are we your kids?!?!!!!

Cheka: Are you a friend of my unca?

Yuu: They are very expensive Yuu, you are very young and it wont be the same, you are very young and it wont be the same...

Leona: If you like it so much you can keep it, *grinning* you're old enough to have one anyway, right?

Cheka: OwO

Yuu: I don't think you're one to talk!!, I know people your age with one or two.

Leona: !

Jack: *doing the math* How?

Yuu: The 20's are very confusing years…

Leona: *sighing* Sorry for have been a bother.

Yuu: Wow, I didn't expect that from you.

Leona: Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, I'm leaving.

Yuu: Leona, life is unfair, you're going to encounter more failures than victories. And it only gets more unfair as you get older, and there's nothing we can do about it, at least most of the time.

Leona: *stopping, turning his back on them*

Yuu: But with your talent and your intelligence, I think you can carve your own path, and, although you can never be king… I'm sure you can create a place that only you can occupy, and it will be worth more than any birthright.

Leona: *looking at them without saying anything*

Yuu: Besides, being a king is overrated, what is the merit of ruling without earning it? in my world they beheaded one…

Leona: For a pitiful adult, *smiling* you make a lot of sense.

Yuu: You'll get there *smiling back at him*

.

.

I'm not entirely satisfied with this part, so I may modify it. But I'm glad I got out of the block with this series.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading 🩶

[cosmickid-inmotion]

The Ghost of You

Banner by my dear @commonmisery

Ghost!Joel Miller x fem!reader

TLOU 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU"VE BEEN WARNED!

Join my taglist: Masterlist

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Summary: After moving into Jackson, you're put up in a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Can you help Joel move on to the next life to be with his daughter? Or will you keep him here selfishly with you?

Warnings: TLOU 2 SPOILERS, ghost!sex, mentions of violence and the things Joels done and what happened to him. bittersweet ending. Body marking and blood but it v consensual. It's loving.

A/N: This is my goodbye to writing Joel. I've made a few statements on thi before and if you've followed me for a while you know why. I won't rehash it. But I wanted to write this idea I had talking to @multiversed-daydreamer as my goodbye. i won't say it my last joel forever but it is for along time. all other series are cancelled. I am also just largely essening my writing for p-boys but I'll still be around witing frankie and javi and marcus sometimes. You never know. My main focus rn is logan howlett, triple frontier, and my original content

This is my love letter to the Joel fandom that has given me so much love and friendship

Looking for something similar? Brother by @macfrog is Tommy saying goodbye, and The Devil's Wife is devil!Joel, similar theme of halloween by @noxturnalnymph

8.5 words

It was cold. That was annoying. How you’d wandered your fucking way out to Wyoming, you’ll never understand. One minute you were in Florida complaining about the heat, now you were being treated for frostbite in your toes.

You’d arrived in Jackson last afternoon, nearly frozen to death and had been crashing in the clinic bed ever since. The doctor, a nice older man, took care of you and a few nurses checked in overnight, and today you were cleared to get settled. Word of mouth had told you Jackson was the place to go, a safe haven, a community where people actually take care of each other. Maria Miller, the town founder, had just left your room saying she’d be outside doing paperwork whenever you were ready for the short tour. You’d get the full spiel eventually, but right now the frostbite made walking a little hard. She'd just show you her office, the mess hall, a few quick essentials and then take your to your new home.

That was when you heard shouting outside the door. One voice was Maria, the other you didn’t recognize. It was hard to hear, but you listened in with your ear pressed to the door. 

“It’s been 3 years Tommy. I know this is difficult for you but-”

“You don’t know shit!”

“Excuse me? Who was there for you when you drowned your feelings in moonshine for years? Who took care of Walker while you went off on pointless revenge missions!”

“Don’t you bring him into this. Don’t fucking do that shit, Maria, you know I had too.”

A beat of silence. “You had to do whatever you had to do to deal with what happened. We forgive you, we took you back here and the whole town in glad for it. But Tommy… Jackson is growing. We need the space-”

“You never fucking liked him! You never wanted him around! I bet you’re glad-”

The shouting began to overlap each other, voices raising until you were uncomfortable enough with the man’s temper you grabbed your gun and opened the door, pointing it at him.

“Settle down there, cowboy. Ain’t nice to yell at a lady.”

*

The next few minutes were embarrassing, to say the least. Maria explained that Tommy was her ex-husband. She didn’t go into the argument, but she assured you, not without gratitude, that firstly she could handle herself, and second that Tommy wasn’t a threat.

After Tommy left with a pointed ‘fuck you’ in your direction, you turn back to find Maria rolling her eyes. 

“He’s a good man. I promise. Good dad, works hard, takes care of his people. He just gets… well, there’s some sore spots. C’mon let’s get you home. I bet you’re tired.”

Settled into the house that felt way too big for just you, your thoughts drift to the man. He was older, 50’s maybe? Dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and tired lines around his eyes, but handsome. He was so angry, and angry at you. What the hell did you do? You hadn’t even been here a day! Fucking unreal. Men were men no matter where you went, but their temper tantrums never ceased to amaze you. 

The house was pretty empty. You’d been given a few furnishings, but the house was stripped of all character, certainly taking apart everything the previous owner had. Had the place been occupied since the world fell apart? Or had someone who lived here died? You wondered how. You wondered if they had family, or if the town was their family. 

The kitchen had kindly been stocked up pretty well, and you’d been given some toiletries so after eating, you enjoyed your first warm bath in a long time. Running water, and it was warm? Fantestic. You boiled a pan of water and tossed it into the tub for some extra heat just how you liked it.

In bed that night, that’s when things got weird. You felt a coldness wash over your body, a shiver you didn’t expect under the warm blankets. Then the window unlatched and flew open. You gasp, fearful at first, but then justify that since it’s on springs, the latch must’ve been not done right and just sprung open. No big deal. But then you felt a hand on your cheek and you froze.

It didn’t linger more than a second. The touch was fluid, but not wind, not air. There was a roughness to it, the distinct feeling of a large hand cupping your face… but you weren’t scared. Instead, you felt calmed. Relaxed.

It became routine, after a few weeks, you refused to go to sleep until you felt it, the touch of warmth on your face, and you felt safe. It didn’t take long for you to believe you had a ghost; after the cordyceps, ghosts were never far from disbelief, something you’d always been open to, but the question was who.

That would be answered soon enough. You could just ask, yeah, but you wanted to find out, in their own words. As the days progressed, you’d been given time to recover and adjust before working, so you spent a lot of time settling into your house. This was not without its encounters with the ghost. More and more, they seemed to get stronger, able to do more, communicate more. There were items shuffled around, bigger and bigger until the couch was moved.

“I don’t like it there.” You said out loud, pushing it back a few feet.

They moved it again.

“Come on, you’re being annoying.” You move, just for it to get moved back again.

You throw your hands up in the air. “Fine! At least be useful and carry the chair upstairs.” No response, no movement. “Dick.” A gust of wind through your hair and you giggle.

You scribble together a make-shift ouija board, a circle tied from some guitar string you found in a box the ghost knocked off a shelf that must’ve not been cleaned. 

Candles lit, you cross legged on the floor, you try to get information. Requests for the name came up empty, but the string moved to  “yes” when asked if they were a man.

“How old are you? Or- were you?”

5. 6.

“Old man.” You chuckle when wind brushes your hair. You’d learned this was his way of teasing.

“How did you die?”

D-o-n-t-g-o-g-o-l-f-i-n-g

“Don’t go golfing? What does that mean?”

No response.

“Was that a joke?”

Yes.

“Well, I don’t get it. You know that, right?”

Yes.

“Fine, don’t wanna talk about death I see. Fair enough, never been there myself but I heard it’s not fun. Uhhhhhh got any kids?”

2

“Go on.”

2 g-i-r-l-s. 1 d-e-a-d.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that… where is the other?”

I-d-o-n-t-k-n-o-w

“Shit, i’m sorry about that too. Must be confusing.” Not knowing where your daughter is must be hard. “Is your other daughter with you? In the afterlife I mean?”

e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-i-s-d-a-r-k

That broke your heart. “Must be scary.”

Yes

Then, the string moved again.

N-e-w-t-o-p-i-c

a-b-o-u-t-y-o-u

For whatever reason, this makes you blush. You spend the evening telling him about yourself, sharing details and asking him the same. He didn’t like talking about his family, refused to answer any more questions. Wouldn’t say his name.

But it was the first time you’d been called beautiful over ouija board, you knew that much. 

Even after you began working, every evening you’d run home to spend time with this ghost of a man. The most people saw of you outside your day labor was a pop into the mess hall to take food home or the clinic as they checked you were recovering okay.

“Don’t see much of you.” The doctor commented. “You adjusting okay? I know it’s a lot to get used to.”

You blink in confusion. You were fine. Happy, even. Sure, you didn’t get to know anyone… but why would you? You did your part for the community, then you went home. Hell, you volunteered extra hours sometimes, picking up more than your fair share. You just didn’t want to get close, that’s all. People died, you’d learned that hard lesson early in life, and learned it over and over and over again. There was no point in making friends, falling in love. Not when it was all so fragile.

But you had your ghost man. He had already crossed that barrier, so there was nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.That night, you talked out loud to him about your day as you always did, he made little sounds knocking cabinets together or brushing a breeze on your skin to let you know he was listening. Sometimes winds rustled your hair when he thought you were funny. Then, the wind turned into a gust, and two firm hands pressed you down the hall, the message clear.

“Jesus! I’m going I’m going!” You follow the breeze bushing you. Fuck he was getting more powerful every day. Pushed to the kitchen, you’re face to face with the fridge.

“If this is a fat joke- hey!” Two distinct fingers pinched your cheek and you laughed. “Okay, tell me what you want!” A breeze, and you hear a fluttering between the fridge. When you bend down and dig around the dust bunnies, you find a piece of distinct photograph paper, and pull it out. On it was a picture of a man, 30’s, maybe 40’s if you were pushing it, his arm wrapped around a hung girl holding a trophy. They looked happy.

“Is this you?”

The picture ruffled in your hand. 

“And the girl, that your daughter?”

The pictures motion was repeated. This looked like it was from before, from long ago… you assumed the girl was the daughter that died.

“It’s so cute…” You traced the picture of your ghost, having a face but no name still. Your feel warm, a blush creeping around your skin and a deep heat settling in your stomach. He was handsome. You’d never really pictured him,, besides a few wandering thoughts here and there, but nothing stuck. You put his picture on your fridge.

At night, the image of his face danced in your head, unable to sleep. It was weird, this friendship you had with the ghost in your house, but you didn’t really care. There were worse things in this world, darker ways to cope. So what if a dead man made you happy, made you blush and grin and giggle. So what if he was the reason your hand was currently being shoved into your PJ’s. 

You’d be lying if you hadn’t touched yourself that first night, but this was the first night you pictured his body on your, his face, that beard…

“Are you watching me?” You asked, panting. That was a first too. You knew there was a possibility he watched, but you didn’t really care. Never had. Now, you hoped he did.

A pause.

Then, the liquid touch of a hand on your face. He was here. He was watching.

“Good.” You assure him, hoping he stays. “Want you to watch.” Your fingers begin to pump in your cunt, and you kick off the covers. So what if it was cold, you wanted him to see you. You thought about what it would be like to feel his face buried between your legs, what his voice sounds like, how he’d touch you-

“You can touch me, if you want. Not just my face.” It was a bold statement. Things with you and him had been friendly, close, a little flirty… but nothing so far had suggested more. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t. Maybe he just watched to watch. Maybe you embarrassed him and he left.

Then his touch landed on your face, slowly trailing down, down, until you could feel hands on your breasts. The slightest brush on lips ghost the shell of your ear, your cheek, and your heart swells. He wants to kiss you. 

“You can kiss me. It’s okay.” It wasn’t as strong a touch a his hands, but he ridgid texture of chapped lips touch yours, and ripples of pleasure flow throughout the erogenous zones on your body, far ore reach than two hands ever could. It tickles, and it feels fucking good.

“Wish you were here….” You mumble, still fucking yourself as hips bucked against yoru fingers, sopping wet sounds fill the quiet bedroom. “Never connected to anyone the way I have you.” A squeeze on your leg reassured you, and soon your tits were being messaged in a way clumsy human hands couldn’t do. It was like the rolling ocean crashing and waving and peaking on the tender flesh, a surreal experience to your touch-starved body.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m f-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum-”

Then you hear it, clear as day, sharp and quick against your ear.

“Joel.”

His name. You cry it out as your pussy clenches down on your fingers.

*

After that, ghost sex was something you and Joel regularly engaged in. He couldn’t really speak much still, usually only getting out one word. Generally it was ordering you to cum, sometimes a single word compliment slipped through with a southern accent.

“Beautiful.” He whispered as you lay in bed, satiated and panting.

He thought you were beautiful when you came.

There was never another reason to go anywhere outside of your home other than to work or get food, and more and more you just got groceries and worked with what you had. You liked cooking with him ,you didn’t want to be away.

Today, as you tried to make soup, you couldn’t help laugh as he managed to speak “More seasoning” and lift a fuck ton of herbs up and into the pot. At least he was a helpful ghost.

“You can just make it next time!”

You expect to feel your hair rustle, but instead his voice speaks.

“Tommy.”

Then a knock on the door. You were so startled (people never visited you) you almost didn’t answer. No one outside that door could be worth time away from Joel, but he pushed you to answer, a desperation in his actions that matched the tone he spoke the name.

When you answered, you would have shut the door if you weren’t curious about Joel’s reaction.

There stood the man who got in a shouting match with Maria. Oh, yeah, Tommy, that’s right. But why was he here? Tommy was tall, but his posture at the moment was sunken, sheepish. When he looked at you, pink dusted his tan skin. “Can I talk t’yuh?”

You narrow your eyes. “Sorry, but the last time we spoke you weren’t exactly polite enough for me to feel like welcoming you inside, and every time I’ve seen you, you give me dirty looks.”

He nods. “I understand, that’s why I uh… wanted t’explain myself. I shouldn’t’ve done that, but I was angry. Ain’t right, still…”

“What could I have possibly done to you?”

His eyes were large, brown, and wet. “This was uh… my brother’s house. He died 3 years ago.”

*

5 Minutes later, Tommy was sitting on the couch with you, cup of soup in hand. You hadn’t felt or heard Joel, but this was your chance. Some answers.

“Funny.” He pats the couch. “This was his. Was right here for years, never moved it.”

“It’s uh… a good spot. Now, I think you had some explaining to do?”

“Right…“ Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “The house has been empty since he died. My wi- ex wife, I guess, kept it empty out of courtesy but she was right. It was time to move on.”

“Did he die in here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Tommy explained it to you. The revenge that was enacted on his brother for saving the girl, Ellie. You wondered if that was his daughter he mentioned, but Tommy just referred to her as his kid. How the woman and their group killed him, Tommy saw his brother's head bashed in, brain matter on the walls. 

The golf joke still didn’t make sense, but you’d figure it out. You learned more about Joel too, that he was from Texas, that his daughter, Tommy niece, died on outbreak day. Joel’s birthday. Joel played the guitar, he liked to swim, was an overbearing brother and loving dad. He was married once. He learned to cook to get Sarah to eat veggies so he was pretty good at it. Was a good man. The best, the way Tommy spoke.

“I know it ain’t right the way I’ve treat’n yuh. And I know it’s not your fault. I just hadn’t been handling his death well, you know? Lost my wife, almost lost my son… I ain’t been the man he raised me to be. I now you don’t… do anything. In town. That’s probably my fault and I’m so-”

“You think I stay home because I’m avoiding you?” You nearly bark out a laugh, his eyes growing in confusion. “Brother, I ain’t scared of no man, if I wanted to go to the movie nights I would have!”

Tommy processes this information, sipping on the last of the soup broth. “Oh… I guess I just assumed...”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming. Make’s an ass out of you and me. Here, gimmie.” You take his mug, walking to the kitchen to rinse it and still giggling.

Tommy follows you. “Well I’m sorry! I guess I just figured, the time’n ‘n all.”

You throw a look over your shoulder. “I stay home because I like it here. Because I’ve been alone for years, so I’m fine with it.”

“But why not-” He stops in his tracks. “Where did you get that?”

You follow his line of view and realize your mistake. “Uh. I uh. I found that while cleaning the kitchen, by the fridge. I guess I thought it was nice, so I hung it up… why? Who is it?”

You knew the answer before he even spoke Joel’s name. You had to pretend to be surprised, but even worse, you knew what you needed to do.

“Keep it.” You say, pushing the picture closer to him, breaking you a bit. You had to hide every emotion, because there was no reason for you to have any attachment to it. He didn’t know what you and Joel shared with each other. Who he was to you. It didn’t matter, because Joel was his brother. The girl was his niece. He deserved the picture.

“That’s her. That’s Sarah.” Tommy continued, confirming your suspicions as his finger trailed over the girl. 

“She’s adorable.”

“Yeah… she was. Great kid too.”

Tommy helped you wash up the dishes from making soup, you and him talking more. He was nice when he wasn’t yelling. You could understand why he was so upset at the time, and you forgave it.

You told as much as he stood in your doorway. “I don’t hold it against you. I promise.”

He nods, smiling and looking more at ease. “Promise you’ll come to the next movie night, it’s tomorrow. It’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“What’s playing?‘

“Scream 2!”

You roll your eyes. “Not the first one?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tommy says with a tease. “Is fucking scream 2 at the end of the world not enough for you?”

You shove him out of your door, laughing. “Fine! I’ll fucking come. But only to see Timothy Olyphant.”

You shut the door, and turn around still laughing. But what you see shocks you so bad, you’d have screamed if you didn’t cover your mouth.

It was Joel. Faint. Barely there. A dead eyed stare. Much older than the picture and his hair was longer. But it was him.

“Joel?” You say, tentatively walking towards him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he was looking at the door, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing. Your hand passes through him and when his form dissipates, you fall to the ground and cry.

*

“Are you mad at me?” You ask. He was strangely quiet the rest of the day, only a few little touches here and there. No ghost sex that night. When you are getting out of work clothes and putting something warm on for the movie, you bring it up.

“No.”

“Well, you’ve hardly talked to me. Is it because I asked Tommy as those questions about you? I’m sorry, it’s just easier that way and I wanted to know what happened to you-”

“I miss him.”

Three whole words. 

“You’re getting stronger. Did you mean to appear to me yesterday?”

“You saw me?”

“Yeah, and I hear you really good now.” You grin. “I can’t believe you’re talking this much. Maybe I’ll skip the movie, I don’t wanna lose-”

“No. Go.” a brief pause. “Please.”

“Joel Miller,” You tease him. “Are you having me check on your baby brother?” He rustles your hair.

*

So, you started hanging around Tommy more. It started as filling Joel in on his life, but really, you liked being around Tommy. He was easy to talk to. 

You lay on your side in bed, trying to picture his face as you’d done every night for months as you talk to him. Joel’s voice was clear, fully communicating with you now. Every now and then you could see a glimpse of him in a mirror or the faint frozen picture of him standing somewhere, usually after Tommy was over. 

“Walker is doing really well.” You tell him about his nephew you’ve met a few times. For a few years, Tommy was barely around after Joel’s death, most of the time he was drunk. There was an incident several months ago where Tommy passed out of the couch and Walker tried to start the stove, resulting in a small kitchen fire, and Tommy effectively lost custody of his son. Not that family court existed here, but Tommy knew he couldn’t be there. This was shortly after you moved in, and was the reason Tommy finally got sober. Things were going better now, and he’s repairing that relationship.

“You met him?”

“Yeah, he’s quiet. But he’s very polite.” Tommy said he takes after Joel. Walker and Joel had been very close before he died, Tommy adored the little boy. The little boy in question was now 8, growing up.

He sighs. “Yeah, he was a good kid. I never had a son, figured raise’n Tommy was close enough. But when I was with him… Sometimes I think back to when Sarah died, how hard Tommy fought to keep her alive… yuh know, after she died I was just, I was drowning in my sadness. There was no room for Tommy’s grief, I guess. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for, because he was always there for me. If I had lost Walker… I dunno if I could have been that strong.”

A few days later, you invite Tommy and his son over for dinner, and as you stare at Walker eating his food and laughing you can see Joel. He’s no longer a still picture, he’s moving, and smiling, and laughing too. No one else can see or hear him.

But he looks right at you.

*

You can see him now, laying on the pillow beside you as the pair of you talk. Sometimes he’s tangible, hands touching your face and you can see his tan skin through your peripheral. Sometimes it’s more faint, like he’s using all his strength to be see and he can’t materialize his touch. You don’t know how it works, but you’re happy to see his face. Joel has kind eyes, a softness in a world of blood and violence.

“You're beautiful.” And it’s your voice whispering it to him, because he is. Every line on his face, the scar on his forehead, the tired darkness under his eyes as if an eternity to sleep wasn’t enough. Every little freckle you could map on his face on days he was more clear. It was perfect. It was him. 

A sadness crosses over those pools of brown. “I really don’t deserve you…” When you open your mouth to protest, he continues. “I’ve killed people.”

That wasn’t a shock. Who hasn’t? “I have too.”

But Joel shakes his head, curls staying in place as if gravity is now inconsequential, as if he’s frozen in time with a single lock on his forehead. “No, I’ve killed innocents. A lot. Me ‘n Tommy, before… and protect’n Ellie…”

You thought about this for a while, a chill of cold reminiscent of when he first came to you makes you shiver, but when you look at him, you don’t feel the repulsion you know he expects. “You kill children?”

“No.” He says firmly, a glimmer of sadness crossing his eyes. You didn’t think so, knowing he knew what that loss was. “But that don’t make it much better.”

“Did rape anyone? Kill people for fun? Get off on it?” 

Disgust mares his features. “No, never.”

You nod. “You kill any innocent people since coming to Jackson? Settling here?”

Again, a shake of his head doesn’t knock loose a single hair. “No, but before-”

“I’m not worried about before.” You voice is soft, and you tentatively reach a hand out to caress his face. His skin was soft, softer than a man in his 50’s would be, but that’s what happens when you aren’t fully there. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. You deserve a second chance just as much as anyone does. The world out there-” You vaguely whisk your hand around. “Does things to us. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re not a rapist, didn’t kill kids, not one of those really, really bad people… I think you deserve to leave that all outside the gates of Jackson.”

His eyes soften, affection pooling with something more. “Thank you, darl’n I mean it. I wasn’t always forgiven in that life. Nice to know someone does in this one,”

Your heart aches for him, so you try to ease his pain. “Tommy forgives you, I know it. You heard how he talks about you.”

But he’s still distant. “Maybe. But maybe he just misses me. That’s different. Besides, there’s someone I know hasn’t.”

“Ellie?”

He nods. “She…. well, we just started talk’n, right before I died. Didn’t have the chance to find out if she ever would, you know? Now I never will.”

“She does, Joel. It’s been years, I know she does.”

But he didn’t believe you.

*

Joel’s words stuck with you, simmering in your head like the soups he helps you make. Today you were on patrol with a fairly quiet partner, so you had nothing left to do but think, think, think. Why did his words affect you so much? He was so stuck on forgiveness, even though he’d never know-

Oh.

That’s why he was trapped here, wasn’t it? Joel’s ghost remained behind because he didn’t have the closure he needed. Tommy and him had made up, but Joel died not knowing if Ellie ever did. Years of estrangement for taking her from the hospital, for saving her, for lying, and he wasn’t sorry, he told you himself. But he needed Ellie’s forgiveness. He needed to know Tommy didn’y hold resentment. He needed to know they were safe, that they were okay.

Joel couldn’t talk to Tommy. For some reason, you could hear him speak when Tommy was around, see him, but Tommy never reacted. Joel couldn’t even move things or create a breeze when he was around…

If Joel got what he needed, the forgiveness, the resolution he longed for, he could move on. You knew it. He was getting stronger every day, his appearance crystal clear, his touch more and more solid, less fluid than before. You wanted little more than to have him like that, as close to a real person as he could get, at your home you shared with him every single day, every hour, sleeping next to him, cooking with him, fucking him… part of your mind told you that you could do it.

But that wasn’t right. He’d be little more than a housewife, a sex doll, a captive. You could keep him there, to be your only friend outside of occasionally seeing his brother, the person who knew you best, someone always there to talk because what other options did he have? 

That wasn’t you. The rational part won out, and your knew what you had to do.

*

Tommy’s face was one of worry when you told him you’d seen the ghost of his brother. You’d spilled it all out, sparing the ghost sex details, but instead of shock, he just asked you if you ere okay.

“Yes! Tommy I’m fine-”

“I dunno, you’re kinda a weird person to begin with, see’n shit wouldn’t be that new-”

“Tommy!” You stand abruptly from his couch,  pulling at your hair. “I’m not seeing- I’m not hallucinating him! You don’t understand, I see him, I see him every fucking day that’s why I don’t go anywhere!”

A sympathetic look crossed his face. “Honey, maybe you’re seeing him because you’re alone every day.”

“I’M NOT CRAZY!!” You shout at him, and he softens. 

“I know, I know.” Tommy stands. “Maybe… maybe you should stay here a few days, maybe this is a yellow wallpaper situation, you gotta get fresh air, a new environment-” he reaches for your arm but you yank it away.

“Does the term ‘don’t go golf’n mean anything to you?”

Confusion crosses his face. “Not really, why?”

A deep breath. “He… I asked how he died, with a ouija board i made and he just said don’t go golfing. Never explained.”

Tommy’s skin paled, the freckles on his face a stark contrast against him. His face a deadly calm. “How did you know that.”

You can’t help but groan. “I told you, he-”

“ENOUGH GAMES!” The sudden shout shocks you, and you step back. Tommy must’ve realized he was scaring you, so he calmed down just a bit. “I’m serious. This isn’t fucking funny.”

Tears of frustration and sadness filled your heart, begging him to believe you. You didn’t think Tommy would hurt you, but the distress he was in was clear. “I wouldn’t joke about this… he- he said it was a joke I wouldn’t get, and I don’t. Tommy please, I’m being serious…”

Then, the realization dawned on him, clear as day. He believed you. “Holy shit. You’re telling the truth…”

“I am.” You sob. “Tommy I swear I’m telling the truth. He needs help, he’s trapped here… we need to help him…”

He was shaking. “C-can I see him?”

It broke your heart to say no. He can only appear to me, I think…He’s tired when you are over…“

Dizzy, Tommy sits down. “He was round… whenever I was over, wasn’t he? That’s why I always feel so calm there…”

You nod. “He calms me too. I don’t know how.” You join him on the couch again. “Tommy, what does don't go golfing mean?”

His face is buried in his hands, and you think he’s crying. It’s a lot, you know, it’ a lot to spring on someone, especially that he can’t hear or see him still, his own brother so close and yet so far. But you were doing this for him, so that he could move on, so that he could see his Sarah in the afterlife.

When Tommy finally looked up, his face and hands were soaking wet.

“He was killed with a golf club. We never told anyone about that.”

*

Joel stood behind you, clear and crystalline, his body practically human. He was cold, but he brought you comfort. “Something on your mind, darl’n?”

You don’t wanna lie to him, but you can’t tell him what’s happening, not yet. You want a few more days without this hanging over you both.

“Tommy left for a few weeks. Just worried.” You didn’t tell him he went to find Ellie, to go back to the farmhouse she lived in with Dina and see if she’s there, if Dina knows where she lives kows anything. To try and convince Ellie that this woman she’s never met his eeing her dad as a ghost and they need to help him move on. But hes gonna try.

A week later, the town was in a ruckus, Tommy returning to Jackson with the prodigal daughter, her girlfriend, and a little boy.

Turns out Ellie went back to Dina, begged for her back on hands and knees, and they’d been living alone out in the country for years raising JJ. They all looked good, healthy, happy… Ellie was skeptical but she agreed to come as a favor to Tommy. Everything was planned for tomorrow, but as you lay in bed with Joel for the last time, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

You wanted one last night.

Joel kissed you, languid and soft, his hands roamed your naked and prone body and for the first time, you noticed something. A tent in his pants. A ghost had gotten an erection for you.

“Joel…” You moan, feeling him rutt against you.

“I know, I feel it too.” His voice is husky against your ear, and chills flow throughout your body as you realize what this means. Joel was firm, his body fully here and he was hard. Joel could fuck you.

He went feral after that, yanking down your PJ shorts so fast your barely had time to lift your hips, but it didn’t matter. You spread your legs to welcome to fingers the plumged into your body, absolutly dripping for the man laid beside you. Joel’s breath was hot, growling and grunting as e finger fucks you open, preparing you to take his cock for the first time. 

“You’re always s’fucking wet.” He says between sucking kisses on your neck. You didn’t care if he left hickies on you, you were just beyond ecstatic that he was strong enough to leave marks. You wanted him to be with you in some way permanently. “Been wish’n I could feel you since that first day, so sweet, so beautiful, always so ready for my touch.”

You paw at him, groping his body and trying to just get his massive form on top of you. “Need you.” You beg like a needy young thing, like you’d never been fucked properly before, like you needed to be filled and taken and ravaged. 

“I got yuh, darl’n…” Joel murmur, rolling over on top of you, his cock heavy- when had his clothes come off?

Knelt before your body, Joel was magnificent. His body was broad, thick, not quick as barrel chested as his brother, he held it more in the shoulders. Down his chest and stomach held scares, fat, and a trail of hair leading down, down, down to where his cock hung thick and leaking and cut. You forgot he was a ghost; he didn’t feel like one, he felt real. He felt here. Tears filled up in your eyes, and Joel leans over, his body covering yours in his cool skin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks in a gentle voice, thumbing away a stray tear. “I hope yuh ain’t scared’a me? Are yuh?”

You’ve never been more sure of saying no in your life. “Ain’t scared.” You whisper. “I just… I love you so much…” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You did love him. But that wasn’t why you were crying, not really anyway. No, you cried because this was goodbye.

Joel’s eyes, black pupils swallowing the beautiful brown with lust, grew wet themselves as he smiles down at you. “I love you too. So damn much.”

Your nails did into his back, relishing in the firm, solid feel of him. This was real. He was real. “Fuck me, please. Make love to me. I want to feel you, really feel you…”

Plush lips kissed you as he slid inside, a wave of calm relaxed your body, allowing you to take his considerable length inside you. He was big, stretching you open slowly while you accommodate him. 

“Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me…” He moans in your ear, desperate like he’s falling apart at one stroke. But he doesn’t. When he fucks you, it’s with more vigor, more energy than you’ve ever felt from a living person, a slap of skin from his hips meeting your thighs, his balls heavy and slapping against your ass, his fingers digging, digging digging so deep inside as you wished he’d bruise you, wished he’d cut you open and crawl inside so he could never leave you, two souls as one. To know and to be known at the deepest level. Souls and bodies barred to each other. Nothing left to hide.

He couldn’t do that, so as Joel slammed his cock into you, you begged for something else. “Mark me.” You whimper, getting a reaction of confusion from your lover, so you take his hand and dig his nails into your tender hips. “I need to know this is real. All of it.” The tears come again when you can see him want to deny you. “This isn’t forever, you know this can’t before but I- Joel I need something to be forever! We can’t get married, you can’t leave me pictures or presents or- or kids, Joel, I need to be able to remember you.”

His movements slow. “Oh, pretty baby…” He murmurs lowly. “I’ll give anything if it means you can’t forget me.” he kisses you deeply, sucking in your tongue and before he pulls away he nips your lip. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

But nothing of Joel could be too much.

A shape gasp as he dug into you, left hand bracing himself on the bed as he never stopped fucking you, rolls of pleasure coured your body like it had tha first night, swirling over your clit and dragging you screaming to the edge. And screaming you were.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You shout so loud you don’t care who hears you. Half the town thinks you’re fucking Tommy anyway. Don’t stop fucking you, don’t stop marking you, don’t, don’t, don’t go.

You could keep him to yourself. Tell Ellie and Tommy you lied, or that he went away and you can’t see him any more. Anything so that he doesn’t get what he needs, that he stays with you forever.

He’s impossibly deep inside, but in your leaking, dripping channel and into your hip. The cut of his nails goes further than they should go, but you don’t question it. Instead, you focus on the feeling of him marking your flesh, of him making your insides as his as he cums deep in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him as your draw out whatever he’s filling you with, you don’t care. It’s him. 

“More, more” You cry into his shoulder, but he’s already slowing his thrusts.

“I’m as deep as I can go, baby…” He stays bottomed out inside you, but his hands withdrawal from your side as you come down. His bloody hand cups your face, dripping with your own warmth.

You sob against his cold skin, Joel wrapping you into a hug as the overwhelming emotion of what happened floods you, and it’s too much. You need more, but it’s not him deeper, not him scaring you, and not him filling you up.

It’s more time.

*

You wake up with blood on your face and your wounds cleaned and bandaged, with Joel’s body gone, as it usually is in the morning. It took until the afternoon for him to appear again.

“Sorry baby.” He apoligized, hugging you. “I dunno why I can’t control coming better.” He poked your side, and you knew he meant a double entendre but you didn’t have it in you to laugh.

“It’s okay. Last night used a lot. You probably needed to rest.”

“Yeah…” He touched the bandage he’d put on your hip with soft intent. “How you feel’n bout this?”

You smile. “Great. But Joel…” You turn around to face him, his face frowning with worry. “I gotta tell you something… I told Tommy about you…” Before he has a chance to ask questions, you spill it out. “And he went and found Ellie, she’s hear. I think… I think if you reconcile with her, with Tommy, once the air is cleared… you can move on.”

For a long moment, he stares at you, unmoving, unblinking, frozen as the picture that used to hang on your door. Then he speaks. “You know… that means I can’t see you again, right.”

Damn the tears the spring forth, damn the well of emotions overflowing your body, a trickle of a leak in the damn, then it cracks, and it all breaks. You begin to sob in his arms. “I know, I know… but it’s not right for me to keep you here! You- you said it’s dark, and you’re scared.”

“I ain’t scared when I’m with you…”

“But you won’t always be with me! I need to help you move on! It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, you need to be with Sarah, you need to be at peace knowing Sarah and Tommy love you, that they forgive you!”

He lets you cry, holding you close in strong arms as he realized what was happening. He’d see Ellie again. You were willing to give him up just so he could get his happy end.

His voice in your ear.

“Ellie.”

*

She was skeptical, understandingly. Pretty, short, in her 20’s with brown hair cropped into a pixie and looking annoyed. She sat next to Tommy with her arms crossed and practically glaring at you. 

“I’m gonna need more proof than some golf joke.”

“It was enough to get you here, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I owed Tommy for every fucking time he saved my damn life, that’s why I’m here.” She turned to her uncle. “We’re even, by the way.”

“Sure as shit are.” He sighs, then looks at you. “He here?” 

You gesture to the couch. “Yeah he’s sitting right- hey!”

Ellie swung her hand over where you said Joel was sitting, doing nothing but annoying Joel who tried in vein to smack her away, telling her to cut the shit.

“I don’t fucking feel anything.”

“That’s not how it works Ellie!” Tommy flicked her arm. “Relax.”

With a huff, she crossed her arms again. “Fine.”

Tommy looked to you, then to Joel, then back to you. “Tell her something only Joel would know.”

When you turn to Joel, he’s looking at Ellie with sadness. She looks different, a lot older, yet she’s still Ellie to him. He doesn’t turn to you. ‘David.’ He instructs, and you turn to her.

“Do you know a David?” And suddenly her skin blanches. Ever so slightly, she’s shaking, but then she turns to Tommy. “Did Joel fucking telling you that!?”

From beyond Tommy’s protests that he doesn’t know who Daivid is, did she mean David Turner, who was a local here, or David Sanchez, who died last month in a raid? Joel insists he’d never tell that to anyone, but Ellie can’t hear him.

You try to calm them. “He says he was someone you met after leaving Jackson the first time, that you did the right thing by killing him.”

“Yeah! I fucking did!”

“He says if he goes to hell, David is the first person he’s finding.”

She stops, information processing in her head that there was no way Joel wold have told whoever David was to Tommy. “David tried to rape me when I was 14.” She grits out. “I stabbed him to death and let his body burn up.”

Tommy turns to her, horrified but doesn’t speak.

You nod. “Good.”

And then, she sinks into the couch. “Whenever I had nightmares… Joel always told me David was the first person he’d find in hell. He was convinced he was going there.”

You chuckle. Yeah that sounds like Joel. “He loves you both very, very much… and the uncertainty is what’s keeping him here. I need to help him move on.” 

“So what? You’re some sort of fucking medium?”

“No, I’ve never had anything like this happen before but… He started appearing to me. Little touches, cold spots, breezes… then he started moving things, hearing his voice…. Now I can see him, he’s as clear as you are, honestly.”

Tommy speaks now. “He’s gotta know-” He tries to turn to where you said Joel was, but you can tell he’s struggling to talk to a brown cushion. “You gotta know we love you, don’t know? How can you doubt that?”

‘Tell him I do. But tell him… I don’t know if he forgives me.’

“Joel knows you both love him, but that’s not why he’s stuck. He needs to know you forgive him.”

Ellie is staring sone faced at a wall, but Tommy is looking down at his hands now, this seems easier. “Joel… those things we did… it’s been a long time. I was angry, yeah, I fucking hated you for a while but…” He shakes his head, silver streaks shimmering in the deep brown of his hair. “I got Walker now and… after he was born man, I think I got it. The things we did to survive… you were willing to do some of the worst shit out there, damning your own soul to save me. I’d do the same for my kid, if I needed to.”

‘But I shouldn’t have made you do any of it, Tommy.’

“Joel feels bad that he made you participate.”

“You didn’t make me do fuck’n shit, brother. I was a grown ass man, even if you still thought of me as a reckless teenager. I made my choices, and I understand why you made yours. You lost your baby, I know damn well you couldn’t take lose’n your brother either. I forgive you, but you also gotta forgive yourself, brother.”

Ellie pipes up. “I get it too, Joel. I told you that night, I didn’t know if I could forgive you… telling you I couldn’t… but… UUGHHHH!” She slumps down, covering her face. “Joel I was angry! I was angry and I was stupid but I was a teenager! I was just- just a kid who had these grand schemes of changing the world! But we don’t know if it could’ve worked. But I forgive you, Joel. I was always gonna forgive you, even before you went and fucking left me! I don’t know why I had to do that, why i treated you the way I did-”

‘You were a teenager, that’s normal-’

“But I think about it, every single day I think about it and what I should've said and done better but I get it now. I don’t know what you’ve been told but I got my kid now. I know you’re old man brain is probably trying to work out how two women had a baby-”

Joel laughs, and so does Ellie.

“But it’s Jesse’s. Dina got pregnant before Jesse and her broke up and he… he died. But I’ve been raising him with her the last few years… She took me back… You ask me on the porch that night if she treats me good and Joel…” Ellie sighs, smiling. “She really does.”

‘Tell ‘er I’m glad. That I always liked her, and I wanna know the kids name.’

“Joel says he doesn’t blame you for being mad at him, or how you talked to him. He says he’s glad Dina and you are happy. What’s the babies name?”

Ellie grins, pride in her eyes. “The baby is almost 4 now. His name is JJ. Jesse Joel.”

Tear fill up Joel’s eyes, fatherly love overwhelming him and for a moment, you think how sweet this is, how nice. Then you notice he’s not as clear as he was before.

“Joel!” You rush to his side and take his hand, kneeling at the couch. “Joel, I think it worked… you’re fading…” You try to grip his hand, as if holding on tighter would keep him here with you, keep him ground in this world. Without him, you weren’t sure what you’d do with your life, who you’d talk to or confide in…. But you knew, you knew above all you’d miss him. There would never be another Joel.

‘Please-’ He sounds desperate now, scared even. ‘One more time, tell them I love them, I just- I love them so much fucking much.’

Through your sobs, you relay the message. “He needs you to know how much he loves you guys. He talks about you all the time, he- you’re everything to him.” You see Ellie and Tommy holding hands, Ellie crying and Tommy looking close. 

“We love you, Joel. All of us.” Ellie says, to nowhere in particular.

‘And the kids. Walker and- fuck I ain’t never met JJ but I love him too. If, if there’s a heaven I’m gonna…’ His words start to fade, but you know what he’s saying. His strength is going fast, Joel letting go and passing on, but even still his body shook. He was scared. If there was a heaven, Joel was going, but he wasn’t sure about that.

“He says he loves Walker and JJ, he’s gonna watch over them in heaven”

That breaks Tommy, who lets the tears come now as he takes your hand too, squeezing it tight.

You look up at your lover. “I love you, Joel. I’m always gonna love you, always gonna remember you. It’s gonna be okay, I promise you. We’re gonna be alright, we’re doing okay. You can let go now. It’s okay to let go. There’s no one left you need to protect.. we’re safe.”

Even though he’s fading away Joel looks into your eyes. He can’t speak, his strength fading, but it’s all communicated through those eyes that say so much. One last time, he cups your cheek, and the hand that isn’t holding Tommy’s brushes over the cold fingers, feeling liquid and unstable again. There’s fear in his eyes, mixed with that tender love, but then something changes in him.

Joel looks forward, past you, Tommy and Ellie and onto something else, something more. He smiles. ‘I see her’

All his fear his gone, and his face is peaceful.

For the final time, a breeze rustles your hair, and Tommy and Ellie see it.

Joel is gone, and all you can do is sob into his couch.

*

When it finally subsides you feel numb. Ellie and Tommy have joined you on the floor, the three of you talking about the experience you shared together, something no one will ever believe. 

“His last words were, ‘’I see her’....”

Tommy whispers Sarah’s name, and you nod. 

“He’s with her now. He’s a peace. I know a better place is a cliche, but…” Ellie wipes her tears. “We all know how much he missed her.”

Everyone nods solemnly, and for a while, you stay there, talking about Joel, memories and his jokes and his cooking. It was nice to share this secret with other, and suddenly you felt less alone in it. They believed your stories of the ghost in your walls, and they liked hearing the knew things he told you. You liked learning more of his past.

Eventually, everyone had to get back to their families. You were alone, but you didn’t feel lovely. Something had shifted, a closeness to Ellie and Tommy that didn’t scare you the way human connection used to. Maybe you would go to the mess hall, see some movies. Your patrol partner was quiet, but nice. Tommy was still around, and Ellie and Dina decided to pack up their things and return, wanting JJ to have friends. It was going to be okay, and as the sun set on the day, somehow you felt it rise on your life. A new, beautiful world of opportunities for friendship and love was out there.

You stared in the mirror, butt naked, feeling strangely open and vulnerable despite being alone for the first time in months.

It all felt surreal, something that seemed impossible, that went against every logical explanation.

But when you took off the bandage on your hip to change it, there they were, clear as day. 4 crescent fingernail cuts deep into your skin, something that would scar forever.

No matter what happened, you’d always carry these with you, proof that Joel and your love for him was real.

I cried pretty good writing tht end, knowing its my goodbye. I want yall to know I love each and every reader so so so so much. You mean the world to me. every kind word lives on in me forever. I hope you'll stay for my other writing, but if not, thats okay! I wih all of you the best.

Please be kinder to each other. the fanfic writers do this for free, they do not deserve the things they've experienced here. It is a beautiful world out there.

Trust me, it feels way better to send anon love rather than anon hate. I wont be writing tlou for a minute but ill return with a tommy series !!!!

follow @romana-after-dark for dark content and @riley-blue-byron for upcoming original works!

So long, and thanks for all the fish <3

reblogs are greatly appriciated, would make a nice send off <3

@princessanglophile @missladym1981 @goodwithcheese @dancinglotusbud @glitterymanboy @koshkaj-blog @sixhours @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @fandxmslxt69 @miraclesabound

[0529-jihoon]

Beom-seok x reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

| comfort, slight angst, canon compliant !gn

ᯓ★ Scenario: at the airport when beom-seok is about to leave for his flight !

────────── ୨ৎ───────────

The airport was buzzing, too loud for how quiet and empty Beom-seok felt inside.

He stood near the gate, shoulders hunched, eyes flicking between the departure screen and the polished floor. His suitcase sat next to him, untouched, like even the suitcase wasn’t sure he should go.

He hadn’t expected anyone to come.

So when you appeared, walking toward him with steady steps, it took him a second to believe you were real.

“…y/n?” he said, voice small.

you stopped a few feet away. your expression was unreadable. Calm, maybe. Tired. But not angry.

“You weren’t going to say goodbye?” you asked.

Beom-seok dropped his eyes. “Didn’t think I deserved to.”

you didn’t answer right away. The silence made the sound of boarding calls and rolling luggage feel louder.

“You’re probably right,” you said at last. “You did a lot of damage, Beom-seok.

He flinched. But he didn’t look surprised.

“I didn’t come to excuse it,” you continued. “I just… couldn’t let you leave without saying something.”

He finally looked up, eyes rimmed red. “Then say it.”

you stepped closer. “You hurt people who trusted you. You let your feelings fester and rot instead of talking about them. You lashed out because it felt easier than being left behind.”

Beom-seok’s hands clenched at his sides and he felt his heart tighten. “I know.”

“I know you know,” you said. “But knowing doesn’t undo it.”

He nodded, barely.

A pause. Then, quieter: “I never meant for things to go that far. I just wanted—” His voice caught. “I wanted to be seen. Not as a burden or a weakling. Just… as someone who mattered.”

Your expression slightly softened, but not with pity. More like recognition and understanding.

“You do matter, you always have….” you trailed off. “But not because of how much pain you carry. And not because of who you hurt.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Beom-seok whispered. “All I know is I don’t want to be this. Whatever I’ve turned into. This cruel monster who ruined everything, hurt everyone around me…”

Another tense silence followed… then a small sigh escaped your lips. You tried to offer a small understanding smile.

“That’s something,” you said. “It doesn’t fix anything. But it means you’re not past the point of trying.”

He looked at you — like really looked, as if searching for signs that you were lying. That this was just another trick of kindness that would slip away.

“Why are you even here?” he asked. “After everything?”

You shrugged lightly. “Because I don’t believe in throwing people away. You still have a choice, Beom-seok. And if you’re willing to do the work — to face what you did and what you’ve been through — I’ll be around. Not to fix you. Just to walk with you while you figure it out.”

He blinked hard. Swallowed. “You’re not going to pretend I didn’t ruin everything?”

“No,” you said. “But I’m not going to pretend you’re beyond saving either.”

The final boarding call rang out over the speakers.

Beom-seok reached for his suitcase, hesitating.

You stepped aside slightly, not blocking him, not urging him forward either. Just… there.

He gave you a look — uncertain, raw. “Will you really answer if I call?”

“Yeah,” you said, simply. “Every time.”

A breath, shaky but whole, escaped his chest. He gave a small nod, then turned toward the gate.

And for the first time in a long time, Beom-seok moved not because he was running from what he’d done — but because someone reminded him he could still try to be better.

little ramble

waaa I love beom-seok smmmm I know most people hate him for what he did, and yeah, I get it—but I can’t help but relate to him in some way. he’s such a complex character, and if you really take his past into account—the way he grew up, the way he was treated—it starts to make a bit more sense💔. I’m not saying what he did was okay, because it wasn’t, but still… ughhhh poor boy needs to be taught proper communication skills, it’s something he hadn’t developed I feel 😭 anyway maybe it’s partly because I adore his actor, but beyond that, my shayla just needs comfort. (maybe I’m projecting a little in this fic, but yknow what? we ball.) anyway, i hope you enjoyed! <3

edit: 😞 the voices are telling me to rewrite it so I might…

[chosoisamalewife]

* Sees the angst tag in the masterlist * me: 😈

I request the finest dish of Sukuna and Male reader, with the drink being Angst. Sukuna had kept his Male servant around in the heian era and began to have a soft spot for him. But when he found a servant's dead body, he began to go mad. Now, the rest is up to you.

Sukuna x male!reader

A/N : I am a big angst lover so the moment I saw this request I squealed and instantly started writing

A/N : I gotten inspiration from the last of us opening for the death scene. Also Sukuna and reader had a special thing 😉😉 ALSO SUKUNA IS HEAVILY OOC

Sukuna wasn’t a kind man,well he wasn’t a man to begin with, he was a curse object that hated basically everything. He wasn’t kind at all, he was rough and mean. He was one thing that has zero weakness or so he thought. There was you he never understood why he adored you so much. You were a pesky human to him, a mere servant of his. However he couldn’t help but to be soft and patient with you. He felt pathetic every time he saw you smile, every time he saw your eyes and skin glowing in the sun light. The way you looked at everything with kind eyes, even him, a monstrous being. The way you trace the patterns all over his body, your fingertips grazing his skin gently like he was fragile glass as your soothing voice spoke. Oh your voice was something he could listen to always, it was one of a kind to him. He hated it but oh he couldn’t tell you to stop. You were a weakness to him and he hated, he hated everything about it, yet he couldn’t get rid of you.

He has even tried to, there has been many times he has thought about killing you. He has pictured it many times and many different ways, sometimes they come out of the blue. The other times is when you are sleeping peacefully next to him, his eyes starring at your resting face trailing them down looking at all the marks from him. He couldn’t help but to imagine ripping your heart out right then and there, doing the same thing you have done to him, making you feel the same pain.

You didn’t understand it either why he was so gentle to you. When you first became his servant he treated you like the other. He was cold and ruthless to you, the only person you saw he even remotely nice to was uruame. The first time that you saw something different from was when you bumped into by accident. The force of him basically knocked the breath out of your lungs. You just stared up at him with fear as he just stared down at you. You gotten on your knees "I'm sorry King. I must have been distracted I didn't see you." Your voice shook with fear. He reached one of his hands down offering it to you. You looked at him confused

"Are you gonna take it or what?" He asked without any emotion or tone to his voice. You put your hand in his helping you raise up. From there you saw him slowly began to soften. He knew the track you walked in the castle so he eventually start to intercept that track. He knew you liked to paint so he start to let you go outside to do that with his "supervision" of course. You had a favorite spot too, it was under a tree surrounded by flowers, so he had other servant set up a area for you there. He stood out there with you for the most of it he wanted to make sure you didn't run away. But that was just an excuse. He stood out there because of how peacefully you looked. He liked how you looked when you concentrate, he liked how your strong hands look holding the brush. He also did it to make sure that no one would disturb you.

One thing he hated more than how gentle you were, was the way you looked when you cry. Sukuna wasn’t a patient being which caused a lot of fights between the two of y’all. Sukuna never felt the need to apologize to anyone or anything but with you he just couldn’t help it. He felt the need to apologize especially after a bad one. Such as the recent one, he was sitting on his throne thinking of the way your eyes filled with tear before you stormed off. The way you yelled “If you are so tired of me then kill me! Do it already!”

He decided to ask uraume to make your favorite dishes as a act of him apologizing to you. When he brought the food up to your door. He could hear sniffling. He thought your were still upset so he put the tray on the floor and knocked gently on your door. "Y/N, I know you're probably still upset but here is some food. " That’s when he heard you say his name but it wasn't normal. It was odd like you were hurt. He opened the door to find you bleeding on the floor.

He ran to your body lying on the ground, the was a big gash from your chest to your torso. “Y/N, going to be okay.” He took you in his arms trying to pick you up which caused you to scream in pain. “ I know, I know but you have to let me. I have to get you help.” He tried again, your nails were digging into his skin as you screamed. “I know baby, I know.” Baby was a nickname that he has never used until now, it was always brat. He stood up half way before the grip you had on him let go and everything went silent. Your body fell limp in his arms. “Y/N” He sat down on the ground with your body cradle in his arms. He sat there just staring at the opened window. If he wasn’t late he could’ve caught that person, the thing that killed you. Or he could've killed it before it hurt you. The thing that took you from him. He’s going to hunt them but he doesn’t want to kill them. No, killing them would be to humane. He wants to torture them until their body can’t take it and give up.

He sits there for hours in the the silence of what use to be your lively room. What once was a room filled with laughter, talking, and other noises is now a room with nothing. The sound of the door opening interrupted his thought. He turned his head looking at the intruder, it was another servant. “My kin-“ the servant wasn’t even able to get the full word out before a slash went through his body. Uraume eventually came the fetch the body before leaving sukuna alone again. It began a repeated process of servants intruding to only be killed in a second

This went on for 3 days, your body started to decay but he didn’t move. He stayed there not caring about the decay or the smell. “Sukuna” Uraume opened the door gently. He stared at them with a look in his eyes that they have never seen before. Was it heartbreak, anger, madness that he didn’t want to let out. Simply because he didn’t want to disturb your resting body.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He barked at them. They crouch in front of him leaving your body in between them.

“Sukuna, I think we should give him a proper burial. He doesn’t deserve to rot here.” He sat there for a second considering it. "Please" They pleaded with him hoping to get in his mind. He nodded slowly. "Where do you want to bury him"

"I know a place." Sukuna and Uraume put you in beautiful clothing before burying you along with your paint and brushes. Your favorite place became your resting place, under the tree surrounded by flowers.

For hours the quiet castle became home to thunderous yells the sound of things being thrown. No one even dared to ask Sukuna if he was okay, it was clear to what would happen. They would become like those painting of yours that he has ripped up. Those gorgeous painted vases shattered on the floor, he didn't care about the glass stabbing his feet. Everything reminded you of him and he wanted it all gone, it all destroyed and dead just like you. Sukuna's madness went as far as killing every other servant that met you. They knew that you were a weakness to him and he couldn't let them live. He made sure that only him and Uraume remembered you.

Over the course of centuries you began to fade into the back of his mind, a place that he will never tap back into. Those memories no longer had the same effect on him. They didn’t make him soft like they use to. They made him angry, viewing them as a time that he was weak. He even forgot that he was on a hunt looking for the person or curse that killed you. If anything he now wishes it was him that did it. He sees you as having a victory over him simply because he couldn't. You were his biggest regret and now you exist forvever in the back in his mind. You were like a thorn in his foot that he can never get out. No matter how much it annoyed him, it will always be there so he learned to ignore it.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Any ML characters that you do think are overhated?

No one really comes to mind. While I end up defending Marinette the most, I'm more critical of specific criticisms or the way the criticisms are handled than I am of the fact that people can't stand her or any other character. Almost every significant character has come across as pretty terribly at one point or another and I understand why some viewers can't look past those bad writing choices. Many side characters have also done questionable things. Off to top of my head, here are some flaws that are understandably hard to overlook:

Alya blindly believing everything Lila says and dismissing Marinette's concerns, especially after the reveal of Ladybug's identity

Nino outing Alya's identity to Adrien and never telling her (Rocketear), then doing it again in public without asking her permission (Illusion)

Adrien pushing for Ladynoir in spite of Ladybug's multiple requests that he stop

Marinette using her trauma as an excuse for her inability to treat Adrien as a normal human being

The entire miracuclass trying to force Marinette and Adrien to kiss while they watch

Everything Nathalie did - or more damningly didn't do - in season five

Any and all of these things are understandably off-putting. While I don't particularly like pure salt fics, I do get why they exist. Sometimes you just need an outlet to express your frustration! I do it via this blog, but I don't judge anyone for doing it via a vent fic instead. I just get concerned when the annoyance and anger leads to poor media literacy where people act as if these characters are real people doing real things. They're not. They're puppets controlled by poor-quality puppet masters.

Along the same lines, I also get annoyed when people pick and choose which jokes to take at face value, when people hold different characters to wildly different standards, or when people act like their favorite is the biggest victim of the bad writing. They're all victims at this point. There's no point debating who got it worse. It's not going to fix the issues. At this point, I don't think that anything can. The last two seasons made the flaws too deep. The only way to make the story work is a full reboot.

That's why this is a writing salt, character sugar blog. I'm not here to defend the writing or tell you that the characters have done nothing wrong. I'm here to defend the basic story setup and explain why the problems all fall at the feet of the writers. This isn't the kind of story where it is intentionally making you hate the characters. Outside of Chloe and Lila, you are supposed to like basically the entire cast. It's embarrassing how hard the writers failed at that assignment.

[saveahorserideaneddie]

(popping back for 0.2 seconds to give my thoughts on the episode- this is a long post so buckle up lmao but i promise it’s not crashing out or raging i tried to be as calm and collected as i could)

I’m going to confess something:

If a main character had to die on the show… Bobby would have been my choice.

Now before you run to my replies to get upset and accuse me of hating Bobby- let me clarify that that doesn’t mean I WANTED him to actually die…

But

If it needed to be done (it didn’t but walk with me) I understand the choice to have it be Bobby. I won’t spend too much time going into why I feel that way or what my intricate thoughts and feelings are on why he would be my choice, but instead I am going to spend time explaining why I am angry about his death.

To put it simply: It reads as cheap shock value.

It feels like Tim wanted an excuse to shake things up, and he dove off the deep end to do so without stopping and really thinking about what it would mean to the show and to the fans. Like I said, I think MCD’s are completely unnecessary in this universe and trying to throw one in now (regardless of who) only risks losing audience members who A) feel connected to that character and lose interest now that they are gone, and B) lose the assurance and comfort knowing that at the end of the day, these characters will get through what happens. That was the charm of this show, that no matter how much they go through, they will always come out on top in the end. That is no longer a reality here, and it’s a decision that- unless somehow reversed within the next two episodes (which is very unlikely)- will only negatively impact a show that was consistently climbing in terms of ratings and numbers, and didn’t need a shakeup to maintain interest.

It all feels unnecessary and out of nowhere- a sentiment that could provide a unique and interesting opportunity to explore those feelings within the show.

That, unfortunately, is not the case with ep 16. From start to finish, there was an emotional pall over the entire episode, but that feeling of grief was left underutilized within the context of the episode, all because Tim Minear felt the need to once again dedicate an entire episode to a side plot that didn’t even provide any real substance to the overarching story. We see Athena and Chimney both struggling to cope with their grief, but the rest of the main cast merely feel like background actors in their own lives.

For Hen and Buck it feels like they’re both just having a crappy day (at the most) and nothing more. Eddie (who was blatantly ignored by the show since the beginning of this arc) is once again cast to the side, his grief and emotion being boiled down to a handful of throwaway lines that don’t even begin to signal what the relationship between him and Bobby had been for years. Ravi- who for once had finally started being treated like a member of a team he had been with for years- is now back to being an afterthought; his grief and emotions barely making an appearance beyond the end of ep 15.

The potential to showcase the 118 grieving as a whole was completely bypassed by the direction Minear decided to take the episode. We could have explored Eddie’s complex feelings for not having been there, and the guilt he feels for that. We could have explored Hen losing the only captain who ever really believed in her when everyone else had no expectations of her success (especially with Gerrard being back). We could have expanded on Buck’s seeming stoicism and how he might be repressing and bottling up his emotions (something that wasn’t even really hinted at). We could have seen Ravi feeling isolated as the person who had known Bobby the least amount of time out of the whole team.

All of this could have been done as a subplot to Athena going through the process of grieving and moving on- something that would have made the ending all the more poignant, and would have been a fitting end both for Bobby as a character, and for the three episode arc that focused on the 118 as a family.

But instead, we got a flashback to a call we’ve never heard mentioned before, but supposedly had some major impact on Bobby meaning Athena spent the entire episode just ignoring her grief (in a way that didn’t even bother to explore the complexities of the denial stage of grief- it legitimately was as if this were just another case until the end). And on top of that, we have been taken all the way back to where we began the season:

Bobby’s gone, Gerrard’s back, Eddie’s storyline is at a standstill- (buck and tommy are potentially rekindling their relationship?)

We are quite literally back to where the season started, so I beg the question- What was the point of it all. Aside from a few minor outliers, there has been almost zero character development in the main cast so far, and we only have two episodes left to actually do something that would make this season not feel like a colossal waste of time.

And when you pair that with the fact that next episode seemingly is once again pushing Eddie to the side (like eps 14-16) and creating another random non-issue plot for Hen (like ep 13), I wonder if we will actually be anywhere different by the end of the season, or if they are simply going to just cram another random shock value twist in out of nowhere.

All that said, we can only wait and see what happens, but for now we are stuck with an episode that not only confirmed that Tim Minear is tone deaf to his audience, but also did not give Bobby/Peter’s farewell to the past 8 years the respect and reverence it deserves, and to me that is almost worse than Bobby actually being dead.

And with that, I am returning to my mental health hiatus- I will most likely be back by the start of the summer hiatus depending on how things are going for me irl (rehearsals are in full swing, im in the middle of a job search, and i am about to start flight attendant training ive been BUSY 🙃🫠), but i just wanted to give my thoughts on this ep 💕💕

love you all, please drink some water, eat something, and take care of yourselves- this all sucks but at the end of the day it’s just a show and isn’t worth making yourself sick over <3

[alotofpockets]

Celebrating you | Kyra Cooney-Cross

Pairing: Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Summary: Celebrating Kyra's birthday.

A/n: Happy birthday to our one and only KCC! Thank you @totaly-obsessed for talking about this fic with me :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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You were busy making Kyra’s favourite breakfast, while she was still sound asleep in your bed. For Valentine’s Day yesterday you had gone out for dinner, so you thought you’d switch it up today, and put the focus on breakfast instead. It wasn’t long until you had the table filled with your girlfriend’s favourites, you checked everything over one last time, wanting everything to be perfect. It was your first time celebrating Kyra’s birthday since you started dating, as well as it had been your first Valentine’s day together yesterday. 

Once you had looked everything over, and were happy with the result, you heard Kyra starting to wake up in the other room. She was stretching her arms out when you walked into the room. “Good morning birthday girl.” You said as you sat down next to her. She smiled and moved her head into your lap, “Good morning.” Her raspy morning voice was like music to your ears, you just loved it so much. “I’ve made your favourites for breakfast.” Her eyes widened, “Hash browns, avocado toast, oh or vegemite on toast?” You smile knowing you have done right by her. “All of the above, my love.” When she realised that you had not made a favourite, but all of her favourites she was quick to get up, faster than you had ever seen her do before.

“Happy birthday, baby, I hope you like breakfast.” You say revealing the table to her. “It’s perfect, thank you.” She reached for your hand and dragged you to the table, not wanting to waste a single moment not enjoying the amazing food that you had made. “This is so good.” She says after every bite of a different dish that she tried, and it was warming your heart how thankful she was for the small gesture. 

The gesture might have seemed small in your eyes, but for Kyra it meant the absolute world. In previous relationships her birthday had just kind of passed by, the excuse being that it was Valentine’s Day the day before, and that was enough celebrating. They either didn’t want to spend money on gifts for separate days, or told her to choose for which one she wanted to do something. The two of you had spent yesterday exchanging gifts, spending time together, and going out for dinner, so Kyra didn’t expect anything today. 

It was when you pulled out a gift from the chair next to you, that her emotions got the best of her. You quickly place the present on the table, and stand up to comfort her. “What’s wrong, my love?” You wrap your arms around her, and rub your hands over her back soothingly. “You got me a gift.” With a slight furrow in your brow you respond. “Yes, of course. It’s your birthday.” You didn’t understand why she was surprised until she told you about how she had been treated in the past. 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could they just ignore her birthday, and not find it worth it to celebrate things with her two days in a row. You would celebrate Kyra every single day of the year, for the rest of your life, without a second thought. 

Your hands move to cup her cheeks, and wipe away her tears. “Well, yesterday was about celebrating our love, and today is about celebrating you.” After kissing her on her forehead, you bring her in for another hug. “I love you, and I want to celebrate you in every way, always.” The smile was back on Kyra’s face, “Thank you, you are the best. I love you too.”

After she opened the gift that you got her, and told you how much she loved it, the two of you cleared the table. “So, I was thinking we could head back to your place, and spend the day there. How does that sound?” She smiles and nods, “As long as I’m spending my birthday with you, I am happy.”

After showering and changing out of your pyjamas, you drive the both of you over to her place. The drive was short, but you grasped every opportunity to have a car concert. Of course, Strawberry Kisses had to be the first song, and you both loudly sang along. 

When you got to her place, you grabbed the bags, and told her to walk ahead. She had no idea what was about to hit her, since you had been able to keep the secret well hidden, you were able to film her reaction. So, as you’re walking a few steps behind her, you take out your phone and start recording. 

Kyra opens the door, not suspecting a thing, when all of a sudden she hears “Surprise!”, and she is suddenly surrounded by confetti. She looks around to you with tears in her eyes, “You did all of this?” She looked truthly happy by the surprise, and that’s all you wished for. “It was my idea, but Mini helped set everything up.” Kyra goes around and hugs her friends. You wanted to give her a piece of home for her birthday, so you had invited Katrina, Clara, Harper, and Charli. 

You had bought all the decorations and dropped them off at Mini’s place a few days prior, so that Kyra wouldn’t accidentally find them. She was the one that put all the decorations up, and was the one picking up the cake you had pre-ordered, so today wouldn’t have been possible without her help. 

Hearing Harper sing happy birthday to Kyra was the most adorable thing ever, and your heart melted at the interactions between the two of them. You knew how important the people in this room were to her, and were so glad that they all lived in London now, so that they would be able to spend more time together. 

“How are you enjoying your birthday, my love?” You asked her while the two of you cleaned up the plates from the birthday cake. “It is honestly the best birthday ever, thank you so much for everything.” She walks closer to you and wraps her arms around you. “Thank you.” You hold her tight, “Of course, anything for you, my love.”

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[theflikchic]

Just so ya know... There's a new clip from the LA HTTYD and they changed the scene where the teens are introduced to dragon training so it's revealed that apparently the Twins "flunked dragon training" four times. Excuse me. What? Seriously, it's only a few changes but it changes basically all the main story stakes.

This isn't just a silly joke, though the movie seems to treat it as such. This one added joke fundamentally changes why dragon training is so important. The teens we see attending dragon training are the only teens on Berk. In the new movie, Hiccup reveals that Ruffnut and Tuffnut are older than the others. Four years older. Therefore, if each teen is sixteen, this makes them both 20. No longer children.

Therefore, it changes the "competition" aspect of the training and their friendship with the others. I am all for healthy friendships between kids and adults but this means Astrid no longer has a friend who is a girl her own age AND makes it super weird that - if they keep the script super similar - Ruffnut's gonna flirt with Hiccup temporarily.

However, this is all based on if they keep that dragon training is only done once per year when the teen is of age. Because dragon training is not a class. It is a rite of fcking passage.

As far as I know (the shows might say different but I haven't finished them sadly), nobody "flunks" dragon training. You either get to prove yourself and properly become a viking by killing the dragon or ... Well, the movie doesn't explicitly say but we can tell - from the way Gothi the elder is involved, the crowd that arrives to watch Hiccup and Astrid's reactions to being beaten and not chosen is - that being chosen to kill the dragon is basically a rite of passage and ritual. It is THE ritual. The entire village wants to know who is going to kill the dragon and they want to watch. It's HUGE. Where are the stakes if you can just do it over and over and over again? What is the importance of dragon training in the lore OR in Hiccup's story if it's just routine? Oh wait, there aren't any and there is none.

And if dragon training only happens once per year, that makes the Twins adults. If it doesn't and it happens every season, then Astrid has NO reason to be as angry as she is because hell, she can just try again in the next few months. But this also asks how the Twins "flunked" this new dragon training? They would be the only teens. They would only be competing against each other. Wouldn't one of them be chosen to kill the dragon? And if not, wouldn't that be like a major disgrace? And wouldn't Hiccup know this if the training is as important as it is? Why would Fishlegs have to tell Hiccup about this, the SON OF THE CHIEF, except for exposition?

And speaking of added lines, they give Ruffnut a line where she asks Hiccup if his "daddy had to pull some strings" to let him into dragon training. I'm sorry? He's the son of the Chief. Stoick can do whatever he wants. The original line Tuffnut says ("Oh great, who let him in") is still there and that's all you need because he's basically implying "Why did Gobber allow this?" when in reality, Gobber was pushing for this (though no one but Stoick knows). Not only that, making the Twins basically adults (Hiccup in the LA version asks "Aren't you a little old to be here?") just means they're now immature grown ups harassing a child instead of two teens being immature by trying overly hard (and admittedly succeeding) to be what they perceive as adult vikings.

Understand: these are a total of four added lines. Four. And this is how much has already been screwed over. The Twins are immature adults and dragon training is no longer a serious rite of passage (meaning Hiccup basically has no reason to worry about killing the dragon, he can flunk and just never come back to training and Astrid doesn't have to be that mad). Maybe the movie will add more context to this new dragon training but for now, it's bogus like I wouldn't believe.

[flying-fangirls]

To be quite honest with y'all, one of my biggest frustrations with the Witch isn't the fact that she's portrayed as a bad person or an allegorical transphobe, but moreso with how... nasty, the responding attitude toward her is-- both in the podcast's voice and several fans' voices. I'm not saying that her hate and intolerance were totally excusable, but like. Relatively speaking-- in this podcast-- it's nowhere near the worst thing any character has done (especially in light of all the yonic/assault coding behind her character, but I won't go into that because it requires way more energy to respectfully talk about than I have rn)

Everything about Larson's background has pretty clear undertones of incest and rape, but we all still treat him as one of those "characters you love to hate" (and I'm definitely not condemning that fandom response btw, I do it too). Hell, even the podcast's voice itself portrays him as that entertainingly despicable villain. And even past Larson, let's be honest with ourselves, most main characters in this show have done incredibly fucked up stuff, such as Kayne, Arthur, and John. Still, Kayne also gets the entertaining villain treatment, and Arthur and John get praised for their imperfect nature.

The Witch though? It feels like the general response to her is unflinching disgust, a sort of "that nasty, lying bitch" attitude without any remorse or nuance. All of a sudden, harmful behaviors mean a character should only be despised, and nothing else.

And yeah sure, the Witch refused to budge from her intolerant viewpoint or whatever-- in this single conversation, after a lifetime of being taught only hate, despair, and loneliness. I don't know about y'all's experience talking to people raised in hateful environments, but it takes more than one heated conversation to change their minds. And again: no that doesn't excuse the harm they spread. But for a story that preaches the importance of giving people extended time to improve themselves from the worst of morality, even if they stumble or fuck up several times along the way? It feels entirely antithetical for this woman to get spat upon after a single impression of her.

Think about Yellow, too. Think about how he "grew up" in an environment (Arthur, then Larson) that taught him only hate and despair, which led him to be incredibly intolerant, violent, and hateful. And then think about how both the story's voice and us in the fandom treat Yellow. It's not with unflinching disgust and loud vitriol; most of us view him with sympathy, despite all the horrible things he says/does that aren't necessarily excusable, yet are understandable. Why is the Witch any different? Why does the disdain for her ring so much louder, sharper, and meaner than anyone else in this entire show? Why do we "love to hate" nearly every other antagonistic character we've met (Kellin, Butcher, Larson, Kayne, etc etc etc), but suddenly only do the "hate" half of it for this one specific character?

Why is SHE so much worse? What difference between HER and every other major onscreen character subconsciously shifted our viewpoints?

Obligatory disclaimers: Again, I don't think the Witch's physical/verbal violence was wholly excusable. I don't think anyone who dislikes the Witch is a terrible person, nor do I think Harlan or the show are terrible. I am not claiming that everyone in the fandom displays these attitudes, nor am I saying this attitude is some moral failure. This is a critical critique meant to spur critical evaluation, and not any sort of attack.

[amiaimpxct]

SUFFER IN SILENCE.

*+.~ xiao x reader

cw: kinda fluff??? pre-established friendship, no "traditional" romantic antics, kinda character study

You knew he was suffering, his labored breaths well visible behind the curtain, a hand over his forehead as the other was balled in a fist at his side— a telltale sign of his constant pain.

He had only left your side for a moment to excuse himself, even as you knew full well he left to suffer in silence, believing that it was the only way to keep you safe.

"Xiao..." you spoke, hesitant. You expected he would deny, push you away, tell you to go back to what you were doing.

Instead, he said nothing; yet while his brows still furrowed, he untensed his shoulders.

A silent invitation, you realized, as you parted the curtains of the balcony to accompany him.

The moonlight was strong tonight, so much so you had to use your hand to shield the light to adjust from your dark room.

It was not surprising to find him still in the same position, a dark energy faintly eminating from his tattoos. He grits his teeth, bringing his hand down from his face to lock eyes with you.

"You... you came..." he remarks.

"I did, yeah," you reiterate, smiling at him.

"...why, I could harm you, you know."

"I know that. I don't mind that fact."

He sighs, slumping to lean on the wooden railing, still seething from pain.

"You're foolish," he interjects, turning his attention to the streets beloe Wangshuu Inn. "Humans are foolish anyways."

"I know." you reply, agreeing. He has quite a point, and yet, you know he doesn't really mean it.

He's served humanity for years, as a weapon, a tool; and he's been mistaken, given as misinformation, and feared by humanity, despite all that he had done for them.

Truly, you could understand.

Xiao loved humanity, and yet, he could not afford to.

"And yet, you don't mean that, do you, Xiao?"

"Hm?" He whips his head around to face you, his hands gripping the wooden railing tight.

"You've served humanity for years, despite how they've treated you."

"It is my duty to do so," he says.

"Yes, I'm aware."

"And?"

"And, despite all that, why do you think I'm here?"

Xiao goes silent.

"I understand your struggles, and all that you provide for Liyue. And yet, I don't want you to shoulder this alone, even if it is your duty."

"But—"

"I know there isn't an option to truly take away all of your pain and karma," you continue, "But I at least want to be here for you, Xiao."

Xiao looks back at you again, a change in his expression, however faint it was, it was there; and the fact he could express it made you smile.

"...I thank you, for your understanding." he finally reacts, his eyes softened— a more tender look decorating his features, yet still pained.

Being able to directly hold eye contact with him; not as a monster, as a human— as someone who understood him, shook Xiao to his core.

How could I be appreciated like this? I don't deserve it, right?

Soon enough, the darker swirls stopped appearing around him, and Xiao was finally able to untense his limbs.

"The pain is... less intense now," Xiao remarks, "it will come back soon, though."

You nod.

"However." He swallows. "I thank you, again, for staying with me."

"You don't even have to ask. I'll always be here for you."

"Then... I wouldn't mind staying with you a little longer."

His cheeks had a slight red tint to them, which did not go unnoticed. You giggled a little.

"That's cute..." You mused.

He blushed even harder.

"I-I-... I am not 'cute'..." He stutters, looking away from you.

"Oh, you heard that... right, you're not human."

"...I am an adepti. I assume my senses may be slightly more attuned than a mortal's."

"Hm. Well, since we're out here, do you want to do something?" You asked.

Xiao sits down on the ground, his back on the railing as looks towards you.

"Come, sit here."

You gingerly tread next to him, sitting down at his side.

"The stars," he muses, almost dreamily if you squinted, "they're... peaceful."

"Yeah, I agree."

"They are far away, yet so close to us. During the day, they are hidden; but when night arrives, the glow of the stars reminds me that time still stays still sometimes."

You recall the ages of the adepti, remembering that Xiao had lived for many centuries, and many months and years. The only solace for the passing of time so rapid could only be something so concrete, like the stars.

"For the 500 years you've been around, you mean?"

"Yes."

The two of you sit in silence, only the occasional whoosh of the wind or the shuffling of clothes as you fidgeted in your seat interrupted it.

Before you even realized, you had awoken, in your bed with the covers tucked under your chin.

Turning on your side, a small slip of paper had appeared on your nightstand whereas a lack of one from before.

"I hope you rested well. I have gone for other duties, but I will return at nightfall. I hope you will accompany me once more. - Xiao"

A small smile graced your face, knowing you were able to bring him peace, even just for a little while.