#everything else was just me trying not to die

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.

The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.

Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.

Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.

Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.

He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.

Likewise Gareth.

He doesn't bother calling Jeff.

There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.

Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’

No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.

Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.

So...just once.

One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.

Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.

Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.

“Where you going, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”

“Uh hu.”

“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”

“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”

Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”

Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.

Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”

The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.

“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”

“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.

“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”

Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”

“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eddie does not do that, obviously.

“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”

“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”

“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.

“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it…” he doesn’t bother to finish.

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”

Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.

He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.

He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.

Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.

“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"

Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.

“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”

Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.

“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”

“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.

“Who?”

“Chris. Wayne.”

“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”

“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.

“Okay, and Chris?”

Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.

“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”

Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”

“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”

“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”

“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.

Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”

Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”

Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.

“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”

“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”

“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”

That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry…” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”

“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”

Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”

Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”

“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”

“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”

“I was fucked up.”

“Yeah...but she…”

“Just say it.”

“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”

“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”

“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”

“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”

“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”

“Okay, speak later?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”

Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.

[akawifeyy]

friends with benefits | fic (FC43)

description: it’s six months into your relationship with formula one driver franco colapinto, but you’re still believing the delusional lie that there’s no strings attached.

tropes: no strings attached, he’s obsessed with you, playboy, girlfriend!fem!reader

face claim: none

trigger warnings: suggestive and mature content (!!), minor mentions of violence, swearing

| note: agh i love franco so much, i wish there was more f1 content with him

Franco kissed you, his touch soft as a feather while his fingers splayed across your skin, worshipping your curves. He knew every inch of you, committing it to memory like you’d evaporate in his arms if he didn’t do so. “Mmm, mi alma, I love you,” he murmured in the shell of your ear, his breath warm. “I don’t know how I could ever live without you.”

You froze, going deathly still, at a loss of words. I love you. This was the first time he had ever uttered that phrase, and you were struck dumb, unable to respond.

Noticing your distress, Franco cupped your cheek in reassurance, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grinned. “You don’t have to say it back. I understand. I want you to mean it when you do tell me it.”

“No, that’s not it,” you whispered, face flushing with embarrassment. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to break the spell and ruin the sweet moment. With Franco’s rapidly intensifying schedule, time between you was being whittled down more and more.

Franco’s eyebrows furrowed, concern etching lines in his face. “¿Que te pasa?”

Averting your gaze, you quickly blurted, “I didn’t realize we were so serious. I guess I still thought we were just hooking up, no strings attached. Hearing you say that…It’s just shocking.”

He reared back, dropping his hand from your face like he had been burnt. “Are you trying to tell me that there’s someone else you’d rather have been spending your time with?” His eyes hardened with hurt as he imagined you underneath some faceless man while he made love to you. In Franco’s mind, the two of you had been together since he’d taken you out on that first date in Buenos Aires, exploring his hometown with you by his side. Ever since then, you were inseparable. So why were you pretending otherwise?

You shook your head, suddenly feeling stupid. “No, of course not, I just assumed you’d find someone better and leave me. I thought all Formula One drivers were like that.”

Franco blinked. “There is no girl better than you, Y/N. And I’m not all Formula One drivers, I’m my own person.”

“Well…” You squirmed out of his reach, turning away from him as you fumbled for the right thing to say. “So, we’re… together? You want to be with me? For real?”

He nodded vigorously. “I’ve always wanted to be with you. I thought I made this clear.”

You twisted your lips, guilt gnawing at your insides. “It didn’t click. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been calling you mi novia to my parents ever since day one,” Franco said, expelling a breath. “Telling them that I’ve found my wife, I’ve found the woman I will marry and spend the rest of my days with. And the whole time you’ve been believing that we were nothing? Just fuck buddies?”

Heat permeated your skin, and you thought you might die from the humiliation. “I’m sorry, Franco.”

“You’re not just a good fuck for me, Y/N,” Franco hissed, stepping close to you and jerking your head up so you would be forced to look at him. Arousal pooled in your lower gut as you watched frustration grow in his piercing stare. “You’re my everything. Why else would I buy you everything you want? Why would I make you wear my jersey, hold your hand in public, warn other men off and threaten to chop their dicks off? Just to have some fun?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his words sunk in. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that, but you don’t understand how upset I am with you,” Franco retorted. He tugged you roughly, crashing his lips against your forehead. “Mierda. Six months, and you really thought you were just another warm body for me?”

You covered your mouth with your hands, all semblances of speech eradicated.

“You’re not. Get that idea out of your head.” Franco’s eyes narrowed to slits. “We’re not fuck buddies, or some other crazy shit. We do have strings attached, because I’m in love with you. And I’m never giving you up for another woman. Not in a thousand years.”

You inclined your head. “OK, if you say so.”

“Good.” Franco touched your chin again with one finger. “Now let’s get back to what we were doing, hm?”

A moan broke free as he lowered your shirt, revealing the bare skin of your shoulder and collarbones. A flurry of kisses were embedded as his own shirt was removed and you were placed carefully on the bed. He positioned himself on top, his strong arms barricading you and muscles flexing as he began working his way down to your pussy. When your skirt was tossed on the floor along with your panties, he began his conquest, two fingers sliding in you without much difficulty.

“It’s like you’re built for me,” Franco growled. “So fucking ready.”

You swallowed back another moan as he extricated his fingers, instead replacing it with his cock.

“¿Todo bien?” he asked a few minutes later, languidly thrusting as sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. “Do I need to stop?”

You shook your head feebly. “No, please, Franco,” you mewled.

“I hope you know that I adore you, hermosa. I don’t care if this is too much, too soon, because my emotions are going to swallow me whole if I don’t tell you.” Franco groaned as he dug deeper, his entire body pulsing with unspent energy as his release neared. “You live in my every heartbeat, you linger in my thoughts. When I am away from you, I feel like I will die.”

“I...” Your breath was shaky as you continued, “I love you, Franco.”

“If my legacy is to be your lover, then so be it,” he added. “Haría cualquier cosa por ti.”

And together, the pleasure that had been steadily mounting reached its breaking point, and you unraveled together.

Two souls, in sync. The way you wanted it to be forever.

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[asneakyfox]

so let's talk about david jenkins saying the idea was that the crew would dump ed overboard in the mutiny before the writers changed their minds and had him kept in the hold.

he says they changed this for pacing reasons, so that the reunion could happen in 2x03 instead of being delayed longer, and i cannot argue with that, waiting any longer sounds excruciating. so i'm not complaining about this as, like, villainous interference from the WBD suits or anything, although it might be a decision forced by cutting the number of episodes. probably still the right call under the circumstances. BUT i'm interested in it because this explains a couple things that are weird about the plot structure of the whole season as it stands.

so first of all the crew throwing the body overboard just immediately makes a lot more sense because it doesn't actually require them to have failed to notice he wasn't dead. it would be pretty tough to carry the body into the hold and lay him out and cover his face with a lil washcloth and everything and not notice at any point during this that he's still breathing or that he has a pulse. and if they did notice you'd think they'd either finish the job quickly or try to treat him if they'd had a change of heart, not leave him to die slow. however the idea that they would beat him till he stopped moving then immediately chuck the body overboard, that totally makes sense, you wouldn't stop to check if he was already dead or not because one way or another he will be pretty shortly after you dump him in the ocean.

second the line from stede to izzy about "you were the one who kept his body onboard" always bugged me because it feels like it's meant to establish something about izzy but it's really unclear WHAT it tells us about him, in a way that doesn't seem like intentional ambiguity: i've seen people interpret it as a sign of his devotion and i've seen others assume it was a practical decision that the crew should keep ed's body around to claim the bounty on blackbeard. (and i've seen both interpretations from people both in and out of the canyon, so it's not even a normal izcourse divide.) i actually wondered at one point if the purpose was to foreshadow where izzy's arc is going to end by establishing that he thinks it's more respectful to bury a pirate on land than at sea, although if that was the idea it sure didn't work on the people who'd care most.

however this new info from djenks explains it pretty neatly, which is that the reason for the line isn't to establish character stuff about izzy at all it's just there to awkwardly patch a plothole. it's that someone in the writers' room was like "but it doesn't make any sense, why WOULDN'T they dump his body overboard once they'd killed him" and somebody else was like "idk uh maybe we can put in a line about how izzy stopped them or something."

now more interestingly! this also would change something bigger about 2x04. because i'm guessing the idea here would be that ed would have actually for real washed up on an island that looks just like the one in the gravy basket and just never actually gotten up off the beach, and stede would find him there, mermaid scene, and ed would wake up mad and storm off into the woods with where he meets mary read with stede already trying to follow him and the rest of the episode proceeds as normal from there. (and probably buttons would be just, like, hanging around following stede, or maybe he was already acting as a psychopomp and led stede to ed's body, idk, lots of possible ways to play that.)

this means you completely lose the beat of the crew voting ed off the ship. you wouldn't lose the idea of the crew being pissed at him; you could still have the kitty collar onesie probation stuff after he got back. but this is a BIG change.

first of all it solves a big obvious problem LOTS of people pointed out immediately when the episode aired which is that it makes no sense that stede would just stay on the ship after letting ed be exiled. reuniting with ed has been his driving goal for months and it's not even like ed has definitively told him to fuck off, he's just stomping off angry and incoherent and not even clearly in his right mind. but they couldn't let stede actually follow ed on his own initiative immediately, because it would undermine the later fisherman breakup if stede has already established that he's willing to leave his pirate career behind if that's what it takes to be with ed. so you end up with this awkward beat where he's just kind of passively standing there until buttons tells him what to do.

i think there's something even more important it does though! one criticism a LOT of people had about s2 was feeling like the crew all hated ed now and there was no clear sign they'd forgiven him by the end, and also some people had the impression that stede had just overriden the crew's decision (even though he does say he's going to ask their permission; it DOES feel weird we don't see that). now i've said before that i think there was probably going to be a reconciliation between ed & lucius, and by extension the crew as a whole, in the lupete wedding verision of 2x06, and i still think that. but regardless of whether i'm right or wrong about that. even without a reconciliation, this would seem like WAY less of a problem if the crew hadn't voted ed of the ship.

as it is, we have THREE scenes devoted to the idea that the crew as a whole (not just lucius & izzy, who both have more complicated individual relationships with ed) are uncomfortable with ed's presence on the ship - there's the initial one where stede's holding the meat on his face where they're all yelling at him, and then there's the actual walk of shame where they've just voted him off, and THEN there's the youtube apology scene where they're heckling him and stuff. and having three separate scenes like that makes it feel like the narrative is really hammering in this idea of a big dramatic rupture in the whole crew's relationship with ed. but only the last of those scenes was originally supposed to be there! the first two were just thrown into the plot to justify why ed ends up wandering around an island to run into anne & mary! if you only had the youtube apology scene, it would be much more clear that most of the crew weren't really all that mad - as it is, roach and jim explicitly saying they aren't mad feels like it's overshadowed by the weight of the earlier scenes.

(also a minor issue, but i've mentioned before that surprisingly often people think the vote was unanimous. this doesn't actually make sense in terms of the episode, because we know it was deadlocked and izzy cast the tiebreaker. but it is sort of weird, if the idea is that the crew is split on this, that we never get any sign of who voted which way; there's nobody but stede who is clearly presented as specifically not wanting ed to be exiled. which DOES end up making it feel like it's the crew as a unanimous block that wants him off the ship. but that makes sense if the whole concept of the crew wanting him exiled was sort of hastily written to patch a plot hole instead of being a fully developed idea.)

anyway. like i said i can't really complain about this as a pacing decision. but it is really interesting to me how many knock-on problems with the whole arc of the season were created by the change, and how much cleaner the original idea sounds like it would have been.

[justaghostwithbones]

This is so beautifully articulated. I alternate between sprinting forward to moonwalking back… sometimes years. Sometimes I take up residence in that bygone time, and wallow in trying to change it, while imaging I don’t know how that storyline tragically ends. Sometimes I sprint forward then; start building the blocks of the life that I want. I’ll get it partially built… and then… and then… and then… I’m back in the past again, somewhere else this time. Trying to prevent a different moral crime.

But for just about a month now, I’ve held still (with a moment or two of those springs to half-build things; though instead of running backward, I just pause). I’m learning to crawl. I’m building those skills.

(CW: death, grief, suicide, animal death)

Something I’ve learned, so painfully, through so many genuine tragedies—the death of my little family: first my husband of almost ten years… then the first dog we adopted together (and even the people who hate it when others compare human children to pets would fully vouch for the fact that I showed my guys more love and sacrificed more for them than many human parents of human kids), who died spontaneously in my arms from a condition that couldn’t be screened for. He didn’t suffer, it was fast. I wailed when I felt his last breath. I had never felt something die before and it rewrote some of my DNA. I never wanted to outlive my dogs, and I couldn’t believe I had to. I had these primal screams of rage at “God” for everything I had already lost, but my baby deserved peace from me, even if he wasn’t really “there” at the moment, so I swallowed my rage and I held him for over an hour. Talking about everything he was and everything he meant and all of the people he had inspired with his spunky personality as a rescued dog who had done some time in the streets. I pressed my forehead against the top of his head and health my breath, unable to accept he was gone. I listened to songs with his fuzzy, sweet body cradled close to me while I kissed his face.

His “big” brother, whom we adopted a year later than our first guy, but was triple his size deteriorated quickly, and after torturing myself with data and research, I looked into his eyes one day and knew that he was asking me for help. He’d been to veterinary specialists several times in the previous few months, but there was nothing any of them could do for him. It was just age. He was a large breed dog who was at least 14. They kept telling me I couldn’t have done more. I knew the only help I could give him was to let him go. So I made an appointment and planned for him to pass peacefully under a tree my late-husband planted. I took him to the place where my husband and I got married. I gave him all of the carbs he wanted (once he got into the double digits, he felt he earned the right to snag food, and he never met a piece of bread he didn’t love). I took pictures of him against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains in the summer. I slept on my husband’s side of the bed (because he slept in a raised bed my husband built for him there), so I could pet him all night, every night I still had him. That gold-hearted guy ended up passing two days before this wonderful vet service was scheduled to come to my house… he still couldn’t fully let go, so they made an emergency visit, and he ultimately died in my arms on my late-husband’s side of the bed, after a couple hours of me laying with him and telling him stories and playing him songs and mapping out his irises like they would be my compass, because I had to no idea how to navigate life without his protective instincts. Because I didn’t know if my bones had another loss in them. I silently begged for his wisdom and felt so selfish for not being able to stop time and reverse biology and get more time with him. He loved my husband much more than he loved me, in the beginning, and there was some real poetic beauty in where he chose to let go—he didn’t get up on the bed regularly at that point; he hadn’t for years. But for a couple hours, I got to thank him out loud for everything that I could remember to say out loud. He licked tears off my face. His tail wagged when my mom arrived. I whispered to him until I felt his heart stop, and continued after.

In under 2.5 years, I lost my husband, my career, my health (I still am not allowed to work due to my disabilities), and my babies I’d “raised” for 12, and 11 years, respectively. And I haven’t moved forward. The only reason I’m still alive is that… those weren’t my only two babies. Months before my husband died, he fell in love with a puppy we stumbled upon unintentionally while picking up something from a pet store. We didn’t know there was an adoption event held that day. So just over 5 years ago, now, we adopted a puppy. By now, he’s a “legitimate” service dog (cardiac training), and my best friend and confidante. There have been so many nights where I’ve wanted to unsubscribe from earth but just look at him and know he couldn’t live without me. He is my tether to now, and he is how I’ve navigated losing close family relationships (I didn’t suffer the loss of my husband, career, and babies in a way that was palatable for some people. I didn’t do anything crazy, they admit. I just… cried too much. Wasn’t fun to be around. So they didn’t come around. Or call. Or text. I don’t have any real “social media,” so I wasn’t suffering in their face or anything. I just… wasn’t supposed to suffer at all, somehow). He is the reason I’m working so hard in therapy (and have been for nearly 4 years, but REALLY doing painful work for the past 4 months) in the hopes that I will start to want to wake up. That I will look forward to living. That I am determined to find a way to live and not just exist. That I can build a sustainable way to move forward.

But right now, I’m proud of myself for holding still, even when it hurts everywhere and I know all my internal escape routes, all of the ways I can distract myself, all of my hiding spots, all of the ways I can bleed to distract my brain from its selfish existential suffering. But I’m not using them. I’m just holding still, sometimes shakily, sometimes while holding my breath, sometimes through hours of silent tears running down my face.

It’s a kind of poetic irony that I found this person’s beautiful sentiment—that made my neurons start firing in a way that I could write about things I’ve never been able to speak aloud with any level of detail—on the eve of “spring forward” (though I, along with literally everyone else, hates the fact that we can’t stick to either daylight or standard time year round. It’s literally the only thing there’s true consensus about in the U.S.; sincerely); because that’s what I want to do. Maybe in March I’ll only be crawling, but it’s still forward motion. Because I know I won’t make it through 2025 if it’s like 2024. The world is getting worse and I have every excuse to do the same. The world is getting worse so I refuse to do the same. The world is getting worse so I am going to get better.Not perfect. Not perfectly. Tearfully, painfully, tragically, better. I’m going to keep the coffee dates adults pretend to make. I’m going to meet the neighbors I’ve lived near for 13 years. I’m going to learn how to exist among tragedy without feeling tragic. I’m going to learn to tell the stories of what I’ve lost with the aim of learning to gain things, not as an excuse for why I don’t ever even dare to want anything because I know so deeply the pain of loss. I want to grieve, but not be the physical embodiment of grief. I want to learn how to want things. I want to learn how to say that I want things. I want to learn what I like to do. I want to learn how to find joy and not just be busy.

I want.

how do you reconnect to life after being disconnected for so long

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

78. don’t kick his ass (written)

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Looking at the ceiling, still feeling something between numbed and overwhelmed, Yeonjun convinces himself that he did what he had to do. It’s just a little break until he manages to get Yuna to stop harassing him. Once she’s out of the picture, all those feelings will go away. Once she’s gone again, he can go back to the life he’s worked so hard for, right? He knows he’s hurting the person he loves most in the world, but it’s all for a good reason. Surely, you will understand. He will explain and you’ll understand. Just not right now. Not when his old wounds are wide open and you can see his pitiful soul covered in blood. He just needs a few days, maybe weeks, and everything will be okay again.

He really wants to believe that, because it’s been just a couple of days and he’s already dying to talk to you and go back to how things were; how they’re supposed to be.

“Can you please calm down?” Dahyun sighs yet again.

Joshua’s been angry and anxious ever since he saw those posts. Just what the fuck is Yeonjun doing.

“I can’t!” He’s beyond exasperated right now. “She literally said nothing’s going on and yet has gone radio silence ever since. I need to know she’s okay, and she won’t talk to anyone. And I can’t go to Seoul ‘cause we’re closing an important deal and those fuckers insist on seeing me.”

“Hansol says he’s going,” she tries to reassure him.

“That’s way worse!” He complains.

As if sensing they were talking about him, Halson walks into the living room. He looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get there.” He announces while he makes sure he has his passport with him.

“Just don’t kick his ass right away,” Dahyun pleads.

“I’m not making any promises,” Hansol rolls his eyes.

“She’s gonna hate us if you do,” Josh reminds him. “Just make sure to get both sides of the story.”

“We’re literally meddling in her private life, she’s gonna hate us regardless.” Sarcasm drips from his voice. “So I have to at least land a good punch on that fucker.”

Joshua can’t help but sigh again. Contrary to popular belief, Hansol is way more prone to be a lot more overprotective than he is, and that already says a lot. Of, course, Joshua knows he’s intense and kind of abrasive, but he’s never one to resort to violence. Josh admits he’s the bark, and Hansol is the bite. That’s why they make such a good team. And that’s why he didn’t want him to go alone.

“I really hope you guys don’t regret this,” Dahyun says hugging his waist.

“I think we will.”

During the flight, Hansol tries to think about something else. He really, really tries to write a song and even read the book he always carries around which title he’s already forgotten. He can’t. His mind goes back to his little sister and, by extension, to Josh.

He still remembers the day they met, they were both five and trying not to die of boredom at one of the fancy dinners their parents used to host all the time. Joshua’s chubby cheeks and proud grin are still clear in his mind, “I’m gonna be a big brother soon,” he remembers Joshua bragging. That summer, they met every day and Joshua would say he’d be his big brother too. He was bossy, even more than now, but he was fun. Joshua would try to teach him stuff and care for him, he really enjoyed flexing those few months between their birthdays. Hansol has to admit that he was a little jealous of Joshua’s unborn sister, he liked the attention and felt that the little girl would steal Joshua from him.

And then he saw her. So tiny and fragile, she stole his heart. “Can I be a big brother too?” He remembers asking Joshua. And it’s been like that ever since. He was there as much as he could and tried to help here and there. He thought little Yn would interfere with his time with Joshua, but it was Joshua who’d always tried to cut short his time with the little girl. He loved attending her tea parties and letting her and Karina paint his nails. He’s loved her ever since he first saw her, he’d give up his life for his sister. Blood doesn’t matter, that’s his sister. And he’s gonna make sure Yeonjun understands.

That’s what made him lose his mind in the first place. He was the first to welcome Yeonjun to their little family and even encouraged him to finally ask Yn out. He was really grateful for his presence in his sister’s life. He never expected that he would do something like this, especially completely out of nowhere.

“What the hell is going on?” He mutters looking out the window. There’s nothing to see, though, not besides some dark clouds in the distance.

Three days. It’s been three days since Yeonjun said he needed some space. You still can’t make sense out of his words. You tried texting him, calling him. You haven’t shown up to his place, though, you don’t think you could handle such a direct rejection if he refuses to see you even then. Where did it all go wrong? Everything was going great, better than great even. Everything was perfect.

Were you too pushy? Too clingy? Just too much? Or maybe he got scared? This was his first relationship after a really long time, after all. Maybe everything got way too serious way too fast. He did say he wanted to take things slow, see where it goes. But you thought you were on the same page, you thought you both had the same goals and desires. What if he was just trying to please you? What if you were just a means to an end? What if he was just trying to prove that he could be in a relationship?

But he said he loved you? Loved? When did you start to think about him in past tense? Isn’t he your present and future? Fuck. Everything is a little too overwhelming.

“I need to get out,” you say before grabbing your keys and going out.

You walk around for a few hours but turns out that that’s not enough to ease your mind. Your thoughts are still driving you crazy. Your heart still aching. And Yeonjun’s still missing. When did you get so used to him being around? You miss his jokes, his laugh. His yapping, his random stories. Every single part of him became a part of you. How is it possible to love someone that much in such a short time? His little quirks are engraved in your mind. And you miss him.

And then you see the best way to forget about everything. Even if just for a little while. You just want to forget. Life would be easier if you could just disappear until everything is right again.

“Just one drink,” you say before making your way into the bar.

Very bad idea.

notes:

please tell me you get the modern family reference 😭

joshua trying to be reasonable is my favorite thing ever

han is a real one

if you don't hate my writing and storytelling, you can help me choose my next story here lol

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[ghostgirl-22]

hear me out… remote vibrator follow up where they do it again when Tashi’s around and she doesn’t know what they’re up to right away. naturally, she picks up on it. Art puts up a little fight about doing it in front of her, but Patrick knows the idea is secretly just as thrilling to Art as it is to him

oof! This is from 100 years ago. Sorry my love!

CW: 18+, NSFW, sex in public, not quite exhibitionism but also not, not exhibitionism.

—-

One of Tashi’s favorite things is when they talk without saying anything.  one doesn’t even have to complete a sentence for the other to understand it. the way they act, mirroring each other, it’s like how lovers act when they’ve known each other forever. She clocked them right away. Longing looks. Biting sighs. Her boyfriend and his best friend want to fuck each other if they haven’t already. They’re barely able to hide it anymore. and god does it turn her on. 

She admits, she does get a little frustrated sometimes, it’s like trying to have a conversation with two people where everything they say is an inside joke. 

Like tonight. 

Only Patrick would let his best friend crash a Valentines day date. Only Tashi would put up with it. it’s like she’s dating both of them. It’s like they’re dating each other. Patrick’s just grinning at Art all through dinner, while Art glares back at him antsy and barely able to meet his gaze. “Okay what’s going on?” She finally asks, looking between them. 

“Hm… nothing,” Art says quickly. 

“One of us lost a bet,” Patrick smirks. “Again.” 

She grins and focuses on Art. “What did you bet on?”    

“Uh it doesn’t matter.” Art says quickly and he looks to Patrick, eyes glassy, cheeks coloring.   

“He thought he could handle his liquor better than me but I’m the undisputed champ,” Patrick pets her thigh and then drops his phone on the table in front of her. It’s an app with what looks like a volume button labeled from 0 to 10. Right now it’s at a 1. 

“What is this?” She asks. 

“His punishment,” Patrick says gently. 

Tashi cocks her head, looking between him and Art, a little smile on her face. “I don’t get it?” 

“Well… pick a number.” Patrick says and Art shakes his head. 

“Patrick don’t, come on… she’s…” 

“Ten,” Tashi interrupts. 

Patrick grins and Art’s mouth falls open. “You really wanna do that to him?” 

“I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing, Patrick so yeah. Let’s go all the way.” Tashi says, only mildly annoyed. “He’s not gonna die is he?” 

“Nah,” Patrick says,”unless you can die of embarrassment.”

art shakes his head. “No Tashi you don’t understand, It’s a restaurant… this is public we could get in trouble.” his blush is getting out of control, he’s kinda gorgeous.

“Oh come on, it’s packed,” Patrick grins. “No one’s even paying attention.”  He slides the dial up slowly. Tashi’s a pretty quick study. Something inside her had a feeling they were doing something sexual. Still, watching Art squirm in his seat, skin heated, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut as he sits on his palms, gently rocking, trying not to come from whatever device Patrick is controlling… Tashi squeezes her thighs together. 

Patrick chuckles and slides it back down to one. Art is still squirming, sitting on his hands. Tashi’s a little fixated on him. His chest rising and falling rapidly. He looks at her, pleading in his eyes, like she might be the only one who can save him from big mean Patrick. There’s something else in his expression too. Something dirtier. Needier. He fucking likes this.

“What do you think?” Patrick asks. His eyes are all sparkly, mischievous, Tashi can practically see through to the deceptively charming boy that he probably was as a kid. 

The idea of Art losing a bet and Patrick’s first thought being to make him wear a sex toy that he can play with. The idea that Art would just…go along with it. There’s something so deeply fucked up about them. So fundamentally messy. 

“What kinda toy is it?” She tosses her ponytail over her shoulder, trying to act nonchalant but she’s wet. This whole thing has her feeling a little crazy. 

“Vibrator,” Patrick says, pulling her ponytail back where it was, he leans in close because he’s got no concept of personal space but also so he can whisper. “Cock ring tight over the head of his dick.”

Tashi swallows and glances back at Art. 

“He’s crazy…it’s his crazy idea.” Art says like he’s not complicit, like he’s not wiggling in his seat, voice all breathy. Eyes shining. 

“Oh you’re both crazy,” she says softly but she reaches for Patricks phone anyway. “Maybe I should be in charge for a while.

Patrick smirks at her. “Whatever you want.” 

Art looks relieved for a moment before she slides it back up to three. He can barely focus on his desert. Instead he’s just trying to hold it in, sucking on his spoon, eyes dilated. Can’t even look at the waitress who’s been flirting with him all night when she comes back with the check. 

It goes like that for the rest of the night. Tashi takes a turn and then Patrick. Art getting more and more desperate. He seems to realize that Patrick is the one playing good cop. He gives Art a little break after dinner, they share a cigarette while they wait for a cab to the club, Patrick standing too close to him, fingers in his hair. Telling him he’s taking it so well. Art with his lips parted, like a little magnet, drawn to Patrick’s every lingering touch. Tashi thinks she knows what he needs. 

She makes Art sit in the middle seat when they crowd into the cab and snatches the phone back from Patrick. 

Their driver is so talkative. Wants to know everything about them and tell them everything about San Francisco. And Patrick’s just engaging him. “Oh we all go to Stanford,” he lies. “Straight As.”

“Tashi please,” Art whispers but she just smiles. 

“Relax. I’m just checking to see if he’s texting other girls.” She pats his upper thigh and immediately she can feelthe hot, hard line of his dick resting on his thigh, the device fixed over it. He lets out a sharp intake of breath. Patrick’s watching them as their driver goes on and on about the city. Patrick’s got a silly little grin on his face as Tashi slides her palm up and down Art’s length, it has the same effect on Art as if she’d turned on the device. He’s breathless, kicking his leg forward gasping, biting back on a whispered “fuck.” 

Tashi uses her free hand to turn it up and she can feel it vibrating against her palm. Eventually he’s turning into her. Breathing in her ear, hot and heavy. She wiggles in her seat. “It’s okay,” she whispers.  

It’s barely five minutes before he’s moaning, lips pressed against her ear, her cheek. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck. It’s… I’m gonna… I’m…I’m…” he can’t help getting a little too loud. She feels it as his dick spasms and he’s probably spurting come all inside his boxers,  gasping softly into her ear.   

“Everything okay?” The driver wants to know. Obliviously chatty with Patrick this whole time but his concerned gaze flickers to Tashi, to Art.  “He’s not going to throw up is he? Because I can pull over.” 

“Oh he’s fine,” Tashi says, her voice lighter than normal. She cups her palm around the side of Art’s face and turns down the device with her other hand. “He’s good.”

”A bit of carsickness but he’s fine,” Patrick waves it off. 

“Well let me know. I can pull over.” 

Patrick gives her an amused look and she pets art, letting him rest on her shoulder as he catches his breath.

They’re just outside the club waiting to get in and Patrick is playful. “You little slut, right in the backseat. You can’t control yourself, can you?” He teases, bodying Art up against the wall of the club they’re waiting to get into. 

“‘m not a slut. T-Tashi… Tashi turned it up,” Art points out. Flustered for the way Patrick is using his size against him.  

“Snitch,” Tashi says quietly to Art. She’s looking over other settings on the app. Pulse, vibrate, massage. She sets it to pulse and switches it back on to one. Art gasps.   

“God Tashi,” Patrick leans against the wall next to Art and reaches for her, she steps closer and he pulls her by the wrist, closer still, before taking the phone back and wrapping an arm around her waist. “You like it too much.” 

“No i don’t,” she says softly. 

“Yeah right, you’re so fucking wet aren’t you?” he whispers. She rolls her eyes, but he knows her well enough by now. They’re basically standing directly in front of Art when he kisses her. So close, Patrick grins at Art when she pulls away. Hes such a brat. 

He gets his turn inside the club. They’re downing shots. Patrick buys a bottle and they get a spot in VIP. They’re drinking way too much and dancing with strangers, with each other all night. Tashi with Patrick, Patrick with Art, Art grinding against her. That’s when Patrick turns it up, like he’s giddy to see what will happen with the vibration between the two of them.

She can feel it, pulsing hard against her wet panties as Art is basically pressed up against her. He falls onto the big square sofa seating in the center and she follows him, grinding down against his thigh and he’s immediately falling apart. Fingers in her hair, moaning into her. It’s basically simulated sex, dress riding up her thighs, panties soaked. knees dug in on either side, she’s riding the pulsation while the music sounds, TI Whatever you Like blaring too loud on the speakers.  And before she realizes what’s happening she’s kissing him, gripping him, coming on his lap. 

Art’s looking up at her after, breathless, like he’s in love. “Guess i took care of both of you.” Patrick says, grinning. “Two for the price of one.” He leans in to kiss Tashi and she sighs against his lips. Shivering for the gentle heat of it.

Then he sits next to Art… and teases his hair out of his eyes before pecking his lips. Art pulls him close and kisses him properly. Tashi giggles, still settled on Art’s lap while people all around their section are still screaming the song lyrics, drunkenly dancing, lifting drinks, spilling. It’s actually her favorite thing. 

She snatches the phone from Patrick’s waiting hand. She doesn’t feel it anymore so he must’ve shut it off. But she thinks maybe Art has a little more in him. She opens the app and slides it back up.

(Playing fast and loose with time, technology, phones, apps, music and the challengers story/characters but… also… yay i think this vibrator could have fixed them!)

[livingdreams97]

Jackie Taylor -- "Our Destiny" (Part 1)

Jackie Taylor x Male reader/oc

Summary: What happens when a plane crashes in the middle of the Canadian Wilderness full of teenagers? How something as traumatic as that can affect the people and and how they find comfort in each other.

Words: 6.190

NEXT

Masterlist

(For the reader I thought of Wolfgang Novogratz, but everyone can imagine reader how they want.)

________1996________

Your POV 

I drop the pieces of firewood I've collected into the pile on the ground and sit down on the stump to rest for a bit. I've spent the last three hours walking between the woods and the cabin collecting firewood non-stop, and I need a break.

From my vantage point, I can see what some of the girls are doing and I sit there for a moment watching them. Things are a bit tense lately, some of the girls are acting a bit weird and especially Lottie.

After what happened at the Seance a few weeks ago, I've noticed that Lottie has been a bit quieter, more withdrawn and distracted, as if she were in her own world.

This worries me a lot, because I don't know if her behavior could be due to the lack of medication or something else. It's the first time since she was diagnosed that she has gone so long without taking her medication and I don't know what the consequences of this could be.

Taissa: Hey.- she greets me standing next to me. -I've been thinking about something and I want to know if you'd like to join me.- she tells me and I focus my gaze on her.

Y/n: Hey.- I greeted back looking at her with curiosity. -Should I be afraid of what you thought?- I asked her with a certain humor.

Taissa: Considering you're scared of bees... - she mocks me with a big smile.

Y/n: I'm not afraid of bees, I'm allergic to them, ALLERGIC and I could die if they sting me. - I reproach her with an offended grimace.

Taissa: Whatever.- she dismisses me with her hand and a smile. - I've been thinking and I realise we should get out of here in search of help or something to eat. It's possible that the animals are migrating or that there's someone out there.- she tells me and I look at her a bit skeptically.

Y/n: I don't know Tai, if there was someone they would have appeared a long time ago from the noise the plane made against the ground.- I comment somewhat unsure.

Taissa: But what if there is someone or a small town far away enough so that they didn't hear the accident? - she tells me with some confidence. - What if there is a small town or a cabin like this one a few days walk away with people who can help us? - she hypothesizes with a small smile.

Y/n: And if there isn't one? - I ask trying to be realistic, since even with her approach the radius that the noise of the accident would had reached, is very extensive.

Taissa: And if there isn't, maybe we can find animals or something to bring back to camp.- she insists with a confident gesture.

Y/n: I don't know Tai.- I deny getting up from the stump. -I can't just get up and leave Lottie here.- I sigh looking towards where the mentioned one is.

Taissa: Lottie is old enough for you to keep an eye on her.- she assures me, crossing her arms.

Y/n: Are you going to tell me that you haven't noticed a differece in her? - I ask her, focusing my attention back on her.

Taissa: Different? More like a little disturbed.- she comments and I look at her badly, making her throw her hands in the air. -Sorry, it was a joke.- she apologizes immediately. -But still, it's not your responsibility.- she assures me placing a hand on my shoulder.

Y/n: She's my twin sister, of course she's my responsibility.- I remind her with a grimace. -I can't just leave her here for I don't know how many days.- I deny letting out a tired sigh.

Taissa: But you're not leaving her because you want to, but because we're going to go find help or food for everyone. This way you're going to help her a lot more than being behind her all day and worrying about everything she does or says. - she assures me with a slight smile and letting her squeeze my shoulder.

Y/n: I'm not sure.- I murmur trying to think of what is the most appropriate thing to do.

Taissa: Give it a tought and tell me.- she tells me in a calm voice.

We both stand in silence for a few seconds, before a commotion comes from the front of the cabin and out of the woods appear Travis and Nat with a dead deer.

Van: Meat, Fuck Yeah! -she exclaims excitedly as she passes by us quickly.

We all immediately approached them, happy that they were able to hunt and that we could eat something other than belt soup.

Van: Wow, that thing is knarly.- she says when both hunters pass by her and she sees the deer's antlers.

Akilah: It's like Freddy Krueger and Bambi had a baby.- she comments with some disgust when they leave the deer on the ground.

Javi: I'm not eating that.-he immediately denies looking at the dead animal.

Ben: Guys, relax.- asks the trainer approaching the deer. -Deer shed their antlers every season. This is normal.- he explains calmly. -Shauna, do the honors?- he asks her, his breathing a little labored from the effort.

Shauna quickly takes the knife out of her backpack, approaches the deer and begins to open its stomach to empty it.

As soon as she opens its stomach, we can all see the worms moving through the deer's organs and I have to look away to avoid throwing up.

Jackie: That's normal too, Coach? - she asks with a disgusted gesture.

Lottie: I'm not crazy.-I hear her mutter in front of me on her knees on the floor.

Laura Lee: No.-she denies in a whisper. -You have a gift.-she assures me and I open my eyes scared at her answer.

Taissa: We cannot keep fucking doing this, you guys.- she assures moving to the side. -What happens when winter gets here? We fucking starve to death or freeze?- she says, upset by the situation. -We can't count on getting rescued anymore. All of us know that is not going to happen, we have to save us.- she says confidently. -That's why I'm gonna go find help. I'm leaving in the morning, come with me if you want to get out of this fucking hellhole. - says as she walks safely into the cabin.

I just stay silent for a few moments, before sighing and walking towards the lake to be alone for a while.

I need to think about what I have to do and it will be impossible to do so near the abaña and the girls. So I walk calmly through the forest, thinking about the pros and cons of going with Taissa or staying with the rest.

Once at the lake, I sit on the shore on the stones and watch the slight movement of the water.

I don't know how long I spend staring at the water, until I hear footsteps behind me and when I look over my shoulder I see Jackie holding a bucket.

Jackie: Hey.- she greets me tiredly, walking towards the shore and filling the bucket with water.

Y/n: Hey.- I greet back watching as she puts the bucket aside and sits next to me. -Do you think Taissa's idea is crazy?- I ask her after a few seconds of silence.

Jackie: I don't know.- she answers with a sigh. -What I do know is that in a certain way she's right and that scares me.- she tells me in a low voice.

Y/n: Is the great captain Jackie Taylor afraid of something? - I asked with humor and receiving a slap on the arm from her.

Jackie: Idiot.- she insults me while laughing and I look at her with a proud smile for making her laugh.

Since the accident, I have noticed that Jackie is the one who is having the most difficulty adapting to the situation and that her mood is increasingly sad.

She is the one who has always been sure that they would come to rescue us and I have realized that with each passing day, that hope of being rescued is disappearing more and more from her eyes.

Y/n: Now seriously, you're afraid that they won't rescue us, right? - I ask her softly.

Jackie: It's been months and still no one has shown up.- she answers me with some apprehension in her voice.

Y/n: That doesn't mean they aren't looking for us.- I tell her to try to cheer her up a little.

Jackie: No, but it doesn't mean they'll find us either.- she whispers, placing her knees against her chest and her chin on them. -We both know that with each day that passes without them finding us, the probability that they'll stop looking for us and leave us for dead increases.- she explains to me with some fear and sadness in her voice.

I sigh with some sadness at her words, because in a way she is right and I don't want to think about it.

I approach the soccer captain, standing just a few inches away from her body and placing my hand on her lower back and moving it in circles to try to comfort her.

She leans into me and places her head on my shoulder relaxing her body against mine.

Y/n: They will find us, I promise.- I whisper against her head, resting my forehead on it. -But I need you to promise me something.- I ask her, swallowing hard.

Jackie: What? - she whispers, getting closer to my body and hugging me around my waist.

Y/n: Promise me that you will take care of Lottie when I'm not here.- I ask her with some fear that the madness I'm doing is permanent.

Jackie: What are you talking about? - she asks me, separating from me and looking at me with concern.

Y/n: I'm going to go with Tai.- I answer and she immediately shakes her head.

Jackie: You can't go, you can't, not you.- she tells me with some panic.

Y/n: I have to do it.- I assure her, looking her in the eyes. -I have to try, Lottie is not well and we can't continue like this much longer. The least I can do is try and seek help.- I explain to her with apprehension about the situation.

Jackie: But what if it doesn't work out? If some wild animal appears, or you guys get lost and can't get back, or any of the thousands of other things that could happen? - she asks me worriedly, waving her hands in an exaggerated manner.

Y/n: Nothing is going to happen.- I assure her, grabbing her hands and trying to calm her down. -The worst that could happen is that we don't find anything and we have to come back empty handed.- I explain to convince her.

Jackie: But what if...- she continues with the possibilities but I interrupt her before she can say anything else.

Y/n: Nothing is going to happen.- I tell her confidently and without taking my gaze off hers.

Jackie: Nothing is going to happen.- she repeats, nodding her head and looking me straight in the eyes.

We stay a few more moments looking into each other's eyes, before she puts her head back on my shoulder and hugs me tightly around the waist.

I put my arms around her shoulders, resting my head on hers and letting the sound of the lake be the only thing that can be heard.

Jackie's POV

It's been two and a half days since Akilah, Van, Taissa, Misty, Y/n and Mari went out in search of something.

As I promised Y/n, I've been keeping an eye on Lottie and talking to her at least a couple of times a day, to see how she's doing.

I try to ask her simple questions, so she doesn't feel like I'm interrogating her and get defensive.

But at most ,she will lose focus during the conversation and stare off into the distance for a few moments before continuing with the conversation like nothing. Which is not entirely worrying.

Plus, she and Laura Lee spend all day together, so it gives me some peace of mind that at least she's not out in the woods alone.

On the other hand, I have discovered that my best friend, the person in whom I had complete trust, has lied to me and betrayed me in the worst possible way.

Our entire friendship based on sincerity and trust has been a farce.

I knew something wasn't right the moment she told me her story with Randy and how she got pregnant.

If what she told me about losing her virginity at Mari's birthday party were to be true, she would have told me as soon as it happened. But she didn't and the biggest lie is that Jeff and I took drunk Randy home that night.

So it couldn't have been after we left and it couldn't have been before either, since Shauna was with me, Jeff and some of her friends all night.

But I didn't know that the reason for her lie and the person she actually slept with was my boyfriend.

My best friend has betrayed me in the worst way possible and has slept with my boyfriend. Also, in her diary are written all the times they did it and it wasn't just once, it was several times.

I don't know how she could do this to me, sleep with my own boyfriend and then get pregnant by him. How could she do this to me. How can she look at me in the eyes and lie in my face with no trace of guilt.

I don't even know how to look at her face without imagining them together, without feeling betrayed and imagining everything else she could have lied to me about.

I quickly get up from my chair when I see Misty, Mari and Akilah appearing through the forest, almost out of breath.

Jackie: Oh, my god. What happened?- I ask them, walking quickly and holding Misty before she fell to the ground.

Shauna: Where are Van, Tai and Y/n? -she asks, also getting up from her chair.

Misty: She...she told...she told us to leave them. We had to get help.-she tells us as best she can between breaths and Nat and Shauna grab her.

Lottie: Where is Y/n?-she asks Mari with a certain panic in her voice.

Laura Lee: Show us which way to go.- she asks her, grabbing her by the shoulders and staring at her.

Misty points to the path they came from and we all quickly set off.

We run quickly, following the instructions and directions given to us by Misty, who is at the head of everyone.

After running for a while, the darkness begins to hide everything around us and we decide that the best thing to do is to walk. So, lighting some lanterns, we walk quickly, looking everywhere.

Shauna: Van! - she shouts from in front of me.

Laura Lee: Taissa!- she shouts loudly from the front of the group.

Lottie: Y/n!- she shouts from behind me with obvious concern.

Laura Lee: Are you sure you came this way? -she asks the one leading us through the darkness.

Misty: I.. I don't know. I can't see anything.- she answers with uncertainty in her voice. -It's so dark.-she says looking around.

We stopped for a few seconds to catch our breath and looked around for something to guide us. It was then that we heard a noise and saw one of the flares rising between the trees.

Laura Lee: It's them.-she points with her finger and we quickly start running in that direction.

We run for a couple of minutes between the trees, immediately spotting the three of them on their knees on the ground and looking very bad.

Lottie: Y/n!- she exclaims, running towards her brother and kneeling next to him on the ground.

When we get closer we can see why the urgency, as Van has her face covered with rags and we can see the blood on her clothes. As can the pale color on Taissa and Y/n's faces.

We set off immediately, with most of the girls carrying Van, Misty and Laura Lee helping Tai, and Lotti and I carrying her brother.

As I help him up from the floor, I place a hand on his side and feel something cold and wet against my palm.

I raise my hand to my face, feeling my heart racing in my ears and my throat feeling dry as I swallow. I open my eyes, startled, when I make out the reddish color of blood in the light from the lanterns.

Jackie: Y/n.- I murmur scared seeing the boy's pale and sweaty face.

Misty: We have to get them there as soon as possible so we can stitch up their wounds.- she says hurriedly, encouraging us to walk as quickly as possible to the cabin.

So as quickly as possible, we managed to get to the cabin in record time and the girls got going.

Misty: Who goes first? - she asks as they clear the table, place candles around it, and Akilah searches for the materials.

Y/n: Van has to go first.- he answers in a low voice. -She is worse than me, I can hold on.- he assures the group with a small grimace.

Shauna: Van, are you ready? - she asks as they lay her down on the candlelit table.

The redhead lets out a grunt of pain, as Lottie and I place Y/n into one of the chairs.

Misty: We have to take off his clothes from the waist up. - She approaches us and reaches out her hands to do it.

Jackie: No.- I stop her immediately. -Lottie and I will do it.- I assure her, standing in front of her so she doesn't come any closer.

Misty: With the shirt you will have to press the wound to stop it from bleeding further.- she explains to me and I nod knowing what I have to do.

I turn towards the injured boy, approaching with uncertain steps and observing him in more detail thanks to the light from the cabin.

The black haired man, his green eyes are half-closed due to tiredness, has lost all the color in his face, you can see the sweat soaking his face and the locks of hair that are normally pushed back are stuck to his forehead.

On the other hand, the blue t-shirt and the grey sweatshirt are covered in dirt and blood, as are his jeans.

I quickly approach him, aware that he is not in a very good condition and that every minute is worth gold.

Lottie: You're going to be okay.- she whispers, stroking his hair. -Nothing's going to happen to you, It won't let anything happen to you.- she assures him with conviction and I look at her a little scared by the tone in which she is saying it.

Jackie: Lottie, help me take off his clothes.- I ask my teammate in a hurry.

Y/n: Damm Jackie, I knew you had the hots for me. - he scoffs with sense of humor, letting out a grunt when we move him to take off his sweatshirt.

Jackie: In your dreams.- I tell him with a slight smile, to try to ease the tension and play along.

When we managed to remove his shirt, you can see the wound on his side and it doesn't look good at all.

You can see the wolf's teeth and the cuts they left behind. There are at least five long cuts and about seven fairly large perforations on the side of his stomach and back.

You can see the blood gushing from the wounds and I have to hold back my gagging at the image.

Jackie: This is going to hurt.- I whispered softly, before placing his shirt over the wounds and pressing with both hands to stop the bleeding.

Y/n: Fuck.- he grunts in pain trying to get away from my hands.

Jackie: Lottie hold him.- I ask her, making her grab him by the shoulders and hold him still.

I press my hands against the wounds again and this time thanks to Lottie, Y/n doesn't get away from my hands no matter how hard he tries.

But Lottie's strength is affected when Akilah starts stitching Van up and she starts to let out pain-filled grunts.

The brunette immediately sits on the floor, placing her knees against her chest and covering her ears with the palms of her hands.

Y/n: Lot, don't listen.- he growls trying to get his sister's attention. -Lot, look at me.- he stretches his hands towards her with great effort. -Charlotte Matthews look at me right now.- he orders her and she surprisingly does it. -Come closer.- he asks her with a sigh.

Lottie walks over to her brother and he immediately pulls her close to his body. As I apply pressure to his wound, I can hear him whispering things to his sister to reassure her and distract her from what's happening on the other side of the room.

But after a few moments, I stop hearing the whispers from Y/n and I look at his closed eyes.

Jackie: Shit! - I exclaimed scared, stopping pressing on the wound and grabbing his cheeks. -Y/n, wake up. Keep your eyes open, wake up! - I exclaimed hitting him on the cheek trying to get him to react but nothing.

Lottie: Y/n.- she whispers, separating herself from her brother's thigh and looking at him scared. -It's not your turn.- she murmurs confused, placing her hand on her brother's bare chest.

Jackie: Girls hurry up, Y/n has lost consciousness! - I shout for them to hear me, without stopping hitting the boy's cheeks and trying to wake him up.

Natalie: Don't fuck with me.- she growls when she reaches us and takes his pulse. -Does anyone else know how to sew?- she asks the girls with some panic.

Misty: Me! - she exclaims quickly raising her hand.

I look at Nat, a little unsure and worried that Misty will stitch up Y/n's wound and I can see that she feels the same as me.

Natalie: We have no choice.- she murmurs, looking at me with apprehension. -Misty, grab a needle and thread quickly. We'll put him on the floor.- she says, grabbing him by one of his arms.

I do the same and with Lottie's help we get him on the ground as quickly as possible.

Misty: I have everything.- she tells us, throwing herself on her knees beside us. -I need more light.- she tells us while she begins to put the thread on the curved needle for fishing.

Nat: I'm going to get more candles.- she says getting up and I do the same with her.

We both grab some candles and run back to where Y/n, Lottie and Misty are. We place the candles on the ground near the wound, lighting them so Misty can see what she's stitching.

I swallow hard, feeling my hands shake from fear and worry that Y/n will die.

I move to the other side of Misty, kneeling at his hip and grabbing his hand. I bring the hand to my chest, praying that Misty will stitch him up quickly so that the bleeding stops and he can survive.

Your POV

I pull the chair over next to Jackie's and sit down a bit carefully, trying not to let the stitches pull too hard. But I can't help but let out a little grunt as I lean forward and take my share of the bear meat.

Jackie: Are you okay? - she asks me in a whisper, placing her hand on my thigh and leaving a light squeeze there.

Y/n: Yeah, I just moved too fast.- I play it down with a smile and she returns it.

She also leans forward and receives her plate with her ration from the redhead, while the others talk about whether we should wait for Nat and Travis or not.

Van: Lottie, last night you said we wouldn't be hungry much longer. How did you know? -she asks my sister and I feel my body tense immediately.

Everything that happened last night was absolutely crazy and I don't know what the hell went through their heads to make them act the way they did.

Because the mushroom excuse doesn't work for me, since we're all supposed to have eaten them and not all of us tried to sacrifice Travis. Especially not with the way my own sister, Shauna, and Mari jumped on me when I came down from the attic with Jackie, before Travis showed up completely out of it and they jumped on him immediately.

Lottie: I just did.-she answers, chewing what she has in her mouth.

Y/n: She didn't know anything, it was pure coincidence, okay? - I say seriously and avoiding looking at my sister at all costs.

Jackie: Yeah, it's called getting lucky.- she supports me, giving my thigh another squeeze. - The bear probably just smelled us and came looking for food, okay? Probably had something wrong with him. - she says in a logical way to take a bite of her meat.

Misty: It didn't look sick.-she denies sitting to my right.

Mari: Honestly, at this point I don't even think I care.- she says sitting at the table. -Can we just eat?- she asks, wanting to leave the subject aside.

Van: Wait.- she asks, drawing everyone's attention. -Should we maybe... say something? Like... like thanks or grace or.. whatever- she asks, somewhat unsure.

The dining room falls completely silent for a few moments, during which no one knows what to say or how to act in response to the question.

Taissa: Yeah.-she nods, leaving her glass on the table. -Just make it quick.-she asks her girlfriend and I can't help the frustrated grunt that escapes me.

Van: Lot?- she asks my sister and I can only roll my eyes and continue eating.

Lottie: Sure, let's join our hands.-she says leaving her ration aside and shaking hands with the trainer and Shauna.

From my peripheral vision, I see a hand approaching from my right, so I look up from my plate and see Misty holding out her hand to me.

I just stare at her for a few seconds, alternating my gaze between her eyes and her hand, before shaking my head and turning my head towards Jackie, seeing that she thinks the same as me.

Lottie: For this gift from the wilderness, we give our thanks.-she begins to say and my right knee begins to bounce from the tension.

Van: Thank you.- she says to my sister's words, urging her to continue.

Lottie: To the spirit of the bear, who sacrificed so that we could survive, we give our thanks.-she says and they all give thanks. -And to the ancient gods of the sky and the dirt, we give our thanks.-it continues and everyone thanks again.

Misty: You two didn't say it.-she whispers looking at the girl to my left and me. -Jackie and Y/n didn't say it.- she accuses us loudly so that everyone present knows.

Y/n: The fuck is your problem?-I asked the curly-haired blonde with a murderous look.

Jackie: No, I didn't thank the dirt for bringing us a brain-dead bear. What is even happening right now? -she asks, impressed by the group's attitude. -The fuck is wrong with you all?- she asks the girls, leaning forward.

Taissa: It's fine, you guys. They don't have to... -she comes to our defense but the team captain interrupts her.

Jackie: Oh, shut up Tai.- she scoffs at her. -Don't pretend like you weren't a part of it. What, we're... we're just not going to talk about it? - she asks everyone present. -We just howl at the moon now and have fucking orgies or support incest?- she says and I tense up even more at the last thing she said. -And somehow we are the ones who did something wrong? -She shrugs her shoulders, angry at the whole situation.

Ben: Whoa, wait, what?- he asks completely surprised by what he just heard.

Shauna: Jackie, calm down.-she asks her best friend, but I can see that this only makes her angrier.

Jackie: Don't tell me to calm down!-she exclaims angrily, getting up from her chair. - What were you gonna do to Travis last night, Sahuna? - she asks, approaching her and crossing her arms. -Answer me.-she asks after a few seconds of silence.

Shauna: I don't know. I don't remember. -she answers with some uncertainty, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Jackie: Bullshit.-she reproaches, not believing what she has just heard. -You had a knife to his throat. If we hadn't come, you would have killed him.- she accuses her with total honesty.

Shauna: Just shut up!-she exclaims angrily, getting up from her seat. -None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you. If you hadn't...-she accuses quickly, approaching her without finishing the sentence.

Jackie: Hadn't what? Huh?-she asks without reacting to his proximity. -Stolen him? Wow. The irony.- she scoffs again. -Shauna was fucking Jeff behind my back, you know that?- she asks and I open my eyes in surprise. -Yeah. That's who's really responsible for her little bundle of joy.-she tells everyone present and I stare at her, worried about her.

Shauna: It was you.-she accuses her with a certain hurt tone. -You read my journal.-she explains without taking her eyes off the one who was her best friend.

Jackie: How could you? - she accuses her with pain in her voice. -You were my best friend. You.. you.. you don't even like him.-she says in a hurt face.

Shauna : And how would you know? - she asks her angrily with a broken voice. -You're so obsessed with yourself, I'm surprised I'm aware other people even exist.-she reproaches this time with some malice.

Y/n: Girls, I think it's best to stop now.- I say, getting up and leaving the empty plate aside.

Shauna: You know you never even asked me if I wanted to go to Rutgers? You just assumed I would go wherever you wanted.-She reproaches her with more and more annoyance in her voice. -You tell me what to wear, what to do, who to hook up with. I don't even like soccer!-shouts the last part. -But you just get everything you want. All the time like it's nothing. And the rest of us, we are just extras in the movie of your fucking life.- she accuses her angrily and with some pain in her tone.

Jackie: Oh, my God. You are such a cliché.- she exclaims, hurt and upset by what she just said. -Oh, is the.. is the sad little sidekick mad?- she asks with a certain sarcasm. -Did I force you to live in my shadow, Shauna? It must be hard being this jealous all the time.-she says, earning a short laugh in response.

Y/n: Girls, seriously, stop.- I ask them taking a couple of steps towards them, but a hand on my sweatshirt stops me. -What are you doing?- I ask Van confused and she shakes her head.

Jackie: What? You're so fucking jealous of me, you can barely breathe.-she reproaches Shipman, hurt and angry with her.

Shauna: Are you quoting Beaches at me right now? - she asks with a gesture of confusion.

Jackie: What? No.-she denies, confused by the question.

Shauna: I'm not jealous of you, Jackie. I fell sorry for you. Because you're weak and I think that deep down, you know it. - she says taking a few steps towards her. -I'm sure everyone back home is so fucking sad to be losing their perfect little princess, but they will never know how tragic and boring and insecure you really are.- she continues without measuring her words. -Or how high school was the best your life was ever going to get.-she finishes saying in a somewhat aggressive way and I can see the damage those words are doing to Jax.

Jackie: Fuck you.-she says with a slightly broken voice. -That's it. You know what? That's it. Get.. get out.-she orders pointing to the cabin door.

Y/n: Jax, stop.-I ask her, trying to get closer, but the redhead keeps holding me by the clothes and preventing me from doing so.

Jackie: Go on, get out.-she repeats with a little more force.

Shauna: No.- she shakes her head, her eyes wide.

Jackie: I can't be around you, I... I can't even fucking look at you right now.- She says completely hurt.

Shauna: Well, that sounds like your problem. So maybe you should leave.-she ignores the order and stands in her place while maintaining eye contact.

Everyone remains completely silent for a few seconds, processing the words of the two friends and the situation that is happening at this moment.

Mari: Maybe you would be better off, since we're all so crazy.-she reproaches the captain, supporting Shauna.

Ben: Okay, everybody just stop. Nobody is going outside.-he orders us all seriously.

Lottie: Stay out of it, Coach.-she tells him with a murderous look.

Y/n: No, you stay out of it. You already did enough last night.-I say to my twin, giving her a dirty look, angry and fed up with her attitude.

Jackie: You know what? Fine.-she says walking towards the sleeping things and grabbing her blanket and pillow.

Taissa: Jackie, come on. Don't go outside.-she asks her friend, somewhat tired.

Jackie: Don't pretend like this isn't what you wanted the entire fucking time.- she responds with obvious anger.

Y/n: Don't be silly, Jax.- I ask her, releasing myself from Van's grip and walking towards her. -The temperatures are dropping and sleeping outside is dangerous.- I assure her, worried about her.

Jackie: I don't care, I'm not going to be where I'm not wanted and clearly this isn't it.- she denies looking me in the eyes. -I don't even know who you are anymore.-she says to the one who was her best friend.

Shauna: Or maybe you never did.-she assures her and that is all she needs to leave the cabin and slam the door.

The room is tensely silent for a few moments, until I hear a murmur and explode.

Y/n: What the hell is wrong with you two? - I ask completely angry. - We are all here together, for better and for worse, and no one has more right than anyone to be in the cabin. - I comment looking at the pregnant girl. - And let me tell you that as a friend, you leave a lot to desire. Not only have you betrayed your best friend, but you have dumped all your frustration on her and used her insecurities against her to hurt her. What kind of best friend does that? - I ask her completely impressed by her evilness.

Shauna: You don't know anything.- she claims, directing her anger towards me.

Y/n: And I don't need to know.- I deny between my teeth. -With what I just saw, it seems more than enough to know what kind of person you are and believe me, you are not the type I want by my side in a situation like the one we are in.- I finish looking at her with repulsion, before grabbing two blankets and a pillow to leave the cabin.

Lottie: You can't go out.- she forbids me, standing in front of the door so I can't open it.

Y/n: Charlotte, get out of the way right now.- I ordered her, annoyed by her attitude.

Lottie: No.- she denies strongly and crosses her arms.

Y/n: You move or I move you. But I'm not staying here with you two. - I assure her, looking at her with my eyes half closed.

Lottie: No.- she repeats in a slower manner, but with the same authoritative tone of voice.

Y/n: You asked for it.- I remind her grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to the side, trying not to use too much force to hurt her, but enough to move her.

Once I push her away from the door, I open it and walk outside, slamming the door behind me.

At the sound of the door, Jackie turns her head towards me at the noise and frowns when she sees me.

I just walk towards her, dropping the things in my arms to the ground and sitting on the wooden log carefully.

Jackie: What are you doing? - she asks me in a low and broken voice without taking her eyes off me.

Y/n: Keeping you company.- I answer shrugging my shoulders. -You're crazy if you think I'm going to leave you here alone and stay in there with them.- I explain looking at her as if she were crazy, causing a small laugh from her at my gesture.

Jackie: Thank you.- she whispers looking at her hands.

Y/n: You don't have to thank me for anything.- I assure her with an amused grimace.

I put one of my arms over her shoulders, pulling her close to my body. I place a kiss on her forehead, feeling her snuggle up against my chest and hug my waist tightly, but careful of my wounds.

She looks up at me, placing a hand on the back on my neck and pulling at It to join our lips in a soft kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes shine full off life ande a small smile appears in her face.

We just sit together outside watching the sun disappear and observing the flames of the fire move in the darkness of the forest night.

[fel-09]

Howdy! Hello! Thanks for answer my last request so quickly! It was amazing and your writing is wonderful to read!

I had another request if you are interested? Another Thranduil x Reader, except in this one Reader can’t feel pain? Like not a situation where they have a high pain tolerance but they have a medical condition that makes it impossible for them to feel pain!

And who will protect you?

Sorry for the mistakes, I'm very tired.

You were used to curious stares.

Humans, elves, dwarves-anyone who recognized your secret gazed at you with apprehension, doubt, or even disgust. You felt no pain. Not at all. Since birth. It was not a gift, not a blessing, but rather a curse. Deprived of your natural self-preservation mechanism, you have been on the brink of life and death many times.

Thranduil learned of this by accident.

The battle was fierce. Arrows bursting, screams, the smell of blood. You fought alongside the elves of Licholesia, twirling among your enemies, not noticing the blades cutting through your skin. Only when the battle was over, when everyone held their breath in the deafening silence, did Thranduil notice you - bloody, with wounds that should have rolled you off your feet.

- Why are you standing there? - His voice was cold, but wariness lurked in his eyes.

You shrugged.

- It's not fatal.

His gaze slid to the deep cut on your side. The blood flowed in an even, dark line, and only the absence of a grimace of pain proved your words. He didn't believe it at first, but when you looked up at him with a calm, even indifferent gaze, something in his face changed.

Thranduil was an elf who saw everything, felt everything. He felt the rustle of leaves as they fell from the trees. He felt the warmth of the fire, even if he didn't touch it. His world was made of sensations, and you... you were devoid of them.

He couldn't understand that.

- So you don't feel pain. - He'd said it once, watching you bandage a fresh wound on your arm.

You nodded.

- How do you know you're not feeling well?

You hesitated.

- By the blood," you answered simply.

Thranduil stared at you for a long time, too long, as if trying to figure out something impossible.

- It means you could be hurt, but you wouldn't know it.

You nodded again.

- 'It makes you vulnerable.

- It makes me strong,' you parried.

He grinned.

- No. It makes you a mortal who doesn't realize the limits of her body.

You didn't answer, but a strange emotion flared inside. You'd never thought of yourself the way he said.

Thranduil was watching you. You saw it out of the corner of your eye, felt his presence in the shadows of the trees, in the remoteness of the palace corridors. He asked questions no one had ever asked before.

- Are you afraid of death?

- No.

- But if you can't feel pain, then you can't tell when it's time to stop.

- That's right.

- It scares me.

You looked up at him sharply. The king, whose mask of unwavering confidence never fell, was admitting fear?

He stepped closer, slowly, as if he feared breaking the thin line that separated you.

- I don't want you to die.

You smiled.

- 'No one does.

He frowned.

- I want you to live.

Those words penetrated your heart. No one had ever said it to you like that before, with such feeling. People have wondered, feared, but not cared. No one tried to protect you from yourself.

One day he reached out and touched your palm.

- Can you feel it?

You shook your head.

- But you realize I'm there for you?

- Yes.

He squeezed your hand tighter.

- Then you can feel, just differently.

You didn't know what to say.

With him by your side, you began to realize something different. You didn't feel pain, but you felt the warmth of his hands. You didn't feel hurt, but you felt his eyes on you. And for the first time in your life, you wanted to feel pain to see if it was real.

But the pain didn't come.

Only something else came, the feeling that you didn't have to be with him.

didn't have to be the one

he didn't feel. Because he felt for both of them.

You expected it.

Thranduil didn't say anything out loud, but you knew it would happen. When the King of Licholesia made a decision, no one could change his mind. No one, except perhaps time itself.

- You will not go into battle.

His voice was calm, but steel lurked in that calmness.

You froze, clutching the bandaged blade in your hand.

- I have fought before.

- And you won't again.

You gritted your teeth.

- Thranduil, this is not your war.

- This is not your war. - He stepped closer, and you could see the anger glittering in the depths of his eyes, cold and icy as a winter night. - You go into battle without realizing your limits. You could bleed out and not notice.

You clenched your fists.

- I know my limits!

- Lie. - He raised his hand as if about to touch your face, but stopped at the last moment. - You don't even know where your body ends.

You didn't answer.

He took another step forward, and you felt the tension in the room become as palpable as a bell.

- I forbid you.

Silence.

You stared at him, incredulous, irritated, but deep down.... you were afraid.

- You have no right.

- Yes, I do. - His voice was firm. - I am your king.

You wanted to hit him. You wanted to claw at him, make him realize he couldn't decide for you.

But he'd already made up his mind.

You unclenched your fists.

- Is it because you're afraid?

He didn't answer right away. But when he did, there was something different in his words.

- Yes.

You felt the ground slipping away from under your feet.

- If you felt pain, you'd know when to stop. - His voice got quieter, deeper. - And now I have to do it for you.

You turned away.

- You don't understand.

- I do. - Thranduil leaned down to look into your eyes. - You're used to living on the edge. But now you have something to lose.

You didn't know what to say.

You could have thrown yourself into battle, gone against his will, proved something, but... в

this time it was different.

Thranduil wasn't just forbidding.

He was protecting you.

You felt the tension in the air become almost palpable.

Thranduil stood across from you, his gaze piercing you, but not with anger, but with something much deeper. Anxiety. Fear. Something he probably never allowed himself to show.

You wanted to say something, but he didn't give you time.

Warm palms rested on your cheeks, and before you could blink, his lips touched yours.

The kiss was deep, but not desperate. It was firm, but not demanding. It was... protective.

Like he was trying to convey to you through that touch everything he couldn't put into words.

When he pulled away, his forehead remained pressed against yours. He was breathing heavily, as if he had to fight for this moment.

- I know you want to protect people," his voice was quiet, but it was so strong that you felt as if the words were imprinted in the air. - But who will protect you?

You didn't have time to answer.

His hands slid down your back, enclosing you in an embrace. They weren't hard or overbearing. They were strong, secure, like he was trying to keep you safe from the world.

- Except for me," he whispered. - I'm your only defense...

You froze, feeling him press you into him, as if that weren't enough, as if he was afraid you'd disappear into thin air if he loosened his grip.

- I'm afraid... - he breathed out this confession into your hair, so quietly that if you hadn't been so close, you might not have heard it at all. - I don't want to admit it, but I'm afraid I'm going to lose you.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

You're used to fear, but not like this.

You're used to being afraid for others, but not for yourself.

And now, in his arms, you realized - for the first time, someone was afraid for you.

Not because you were weak.

But because you were important to him.

You hugged him back, pulling him closer.

- Then let me stay close.

He

didn't respond with words. He just squeezed you tighter.

[makeila04]

Too many questions:

Russell Adler… why, even at 55, does he do what he does? Still on dangerous missions, conspiracies, wars, chaos, violence, blood, and above all, death. Why does he keep going at his age? If he’s already 54 and they’ve been trying to retire him since he was 49.

Maybe because… Adler doesn’t know how to be anything else. His entire life has revolved around the CIA, shadow wars, violence, and control. There’s no other version of himself outside of that. From Vietnam to covert operations in the Cold War and beyond, everything he’s done has made him who he is. For someone like him, retirement is death. The adrenaline, the tension of a mission, the certainty that his work has a purpose—it’s the only thing keeping him going. If he stops, if he accepts a normal life, then who is he? Adler stays in the field because without it, he feels like he has nothing.

Maybe deep down, he also believes he deserves to die like this. On a mission, in the line of fire, in his world. Not old in a bed, not as someone who stopped being useful. That’s not how he wants to end.

His explanation: If you ask him directly, he’ll probably give you a cold, practical answer. — “Because I’m good at this. Because someone has to do it. Because the world still needs people like me.” But if you insist, if you push him hard enough, maybe on a more honest night, after a few drinks, after looking you in the eye and knowing you won’t accept any cheap excuses, he might admit more: — “There’s no ‘after’ for me. There’s nothing else. There���s no peaceful life waiting at the end of the road. If I leave this, what the hell am I supposed to do?” Maybe there, in that moment, you’d see the real him. The man, not the facade.

(In fact, in COD Mobile, we can see Adler still working at an advanced age. He doesn’t retire like Woods in Black Ops 2, because even in another universe, Adler keeps working.)

Lost. Trapped. Unable to imagine a future where he’s not fighting a war, real or internal. Even though the COD Mobile universe is different, it surprises me that in that universe, Russell Adler ended up K.I.A. (killed in action)… even in his 70s or 80s… That already tells us a lot about him, his personality, his character, what we already know about him, and why he kept working even at that age.

The fact that Adler died in action even in his 70s or 80s says a lot about who he really is. No matter the timeline, no matter the universe, he never stops. If we follow his logic, retirement isn’t an option because he doesn’t know how to exist without a mission. His identity is so fused with war, violence, and control that, even as his body ages, his mind remains trapped in that world. He doesn’t want to die of old age. He doesn’t want to fade away in a bed, without purpose, watching everything continue without him. That would be worse than death. So he keeps going, no matter how many years pass, until, inevitably, he falls in combat. And, in some way, that’s how he would’ve wanted it.

And to top it off, in Black Ops 6 Zombies mode, don’t ask me how, but out of nowhere, Adler told me (verbatim): — “I wish we could all die in a blaze of glory…”

Also, when using the Monkey Bomb, there are some lines like:

“Honor. Sacrifice. Bravery. The creed of the monkey.” Clearly, he doesn’t just like this philosophy—he embodies it. That’s why he likes the Monkey Bomb.

_________________________________________________

Demasiadas preguntas:

Russell Adler...¿por qué aun a los 55 años hace lo que hace? Aún en misiones peligrosas, conspiraciones, guerras, caos, violencia, sangre y sobre todo muertes. ¿Por qué sigue así a su edad? Si ya tiene 54 años y ya querían jubilarlo desde que tenía 49 años. Tal vez porque…

Adler no sabe ser otra cosa.

Su vida entera ha girado en torno a la CIA, las guerras en las sombras, la violencia y el control. No hay otra versión de sí mismo fuera de eso. Desde Vietnam hasta las operaciones encubiertas en la Guerra Fría y más allá, todo lo que ha hecho lo ha convertido en lo que es.

Para alguien como él, el retiro es la muerte.

La adrenalina, la tensión de una misión, la certeza de que su trabajo tiene un propósito—es lo único que lo mantiene en pie. Si se detiene, si acepta una vida normal, entonces ¿Quién es?

Adler sigue en el campo porque sin él, siente que no tiene nada.

Tal vez en el fondo también cree que merece morir así. En una misión, en la línea de fuego, en su mundo. No de viejo en una cama, no como alguien que dejó de ser útil. Así no es como quiere terminar.

Su explicación:

Si le preguntas directamente, probablemente te dé una respuesta fría, práctica.

— “Porque soy bueno en esto. Porque alguien tiene que hacerlo. Porque el mundo sigue necesitando gente como yo.”

Pero si insistes, si lo presionas lo suficiente, tal vez en una noche más honesta, después de unas copas, después de verte a los ojos y saber que no vas a aceptar cualquier excusa barata, puede que admita más:

—No hay "después" para mí. No hay otra cosa. No hay una vida pacífica esperando al final del camino. Si dejo esto, ¿Qué carajo se supone que haga? 

Tal vez ahí, en ese instante, lo verías realmente. El hombre, no la fachada.

(De hecho en cod mobile podemos a ver a Adler aún trabajando a una edad avanzada, no se retira como Woods en black ops 2, porque aunque sea otro universo Adler sigue trabajando)

Perdido. Atrapado.

Sin poder imaginar un futuro donde no esté peleando una guerra, real o interna.

Si bien el universo de cod mobile es otro, me sorprende que en ese universo Russell Adler quedó K.I.A (o sea muerto en acción)... aún con más de 70 u 80 años... Eso ya nos dice bastante de él, su personalidad, su carácter, lo que ya conocemos de él, incluso porque seguía trabajando aún a esa edad. 

Que Adler haya muerto en acción incluso con más de 70 u 80 años dice mucho sobre quién es realmente.

No importa la línea temporal, no importa el universo, él nunca se detiene.

Si seguimos su lógica, el retiro no es una opción, porque él no sabe existir sin una misión. Su identidad está tan fusionada con la guerra, la violencia y el control que, aunque su cuerpo envejezca, su mente sigue atrapada en ese mundo.

Él no quiere morir de viejo. No quiere apagarse en una cama, sin propósito, viendo cómo todo sigue sin él. Eso sería peor que la muerte.

Así que sigue adelante, sin importar cuántos años pasen, hasta que, inevitablemente, cae en combate. Y, de alguna forma, así es como lo hubiera querido.

Y para rematar en el modo zombies de Black Ops 6, no me pregunten cómo, pero de la nada Adler me dijo (cito textual) “Ojalá todos pudiéramos morir en un resplandor de gloria…” También al utilizar al mono bomba hay algunas frases como: - “Honor. Sacrificio. Valentía. El credo del mono.” Evidentemente no solo le gusta esta filosofía sino que hasta la réplica y por eso le gusta el soldado simio.

[itz-pandora]

Cw for illness, emotional abuse, animal neglect, misogyny, and implications of me suspecting ideation suicide/attempted murder

Oh my gosh. My stepbrother and his girlfriend are. Where do I start

She's chronically ill. She can't work and she has seizures. The first time I saw the ambulance in my front yard was scary, and there was so many times after that quickly followed.

She and my stepbrother used to live in our basement. They are banned from living in the basement because of how disgusting they left it. Their poor dog was stuck in a cage all day and not given any love, that sweet boy was terrified to go down there once they moved upstairs.

They live in what used to be out playroom, the only thing separating them from the rest of our first floor was a curtain. Hearing how he talks is gross sometimes. He's an Andrew Tate fan, I don't remember how I found out. He works at day and games, watches anime, and sleeps all night. I don't think he's ever washed dishes in this house. I don't think he's ever vacuumed. He's a slob.

He yells at her when frustrated. He's been frustrated a lot. She doesn't talk back, and if she did, he'd only make her feel more worthless.

There was this one time she ran out of medication when he was out on a trip and he didn't tell anyone. I remember asking my sister "I feel like he's trying to kill her." My dad and his mom were pissed. He blamed pharmacies for not letting him get medications—which is definitely a problem—but he didn't tell anyone. He'd let her have seizures and die in the 2 weeks he left her with no medication. I don't think he even got a slap on the wrist.

They vape—all of my step family does—including her. Her, my stepbrother and my stepsister all smoke weed. Her doctor told her to stop both. He tells her to stop both, all the while handing her a vape, letting her do it, encouraging her even. He acts like it's all her but he's letting this happen, he let it happen. It's a risk, it can make her seizures worse. I wonder if one day she wishes she didn't wake up with all the ways she's making her condition worse.

He's pardoned for his own mental issues. He shouldn't be. It's not fair to her to let this go on, but nobody else wants to step up, or even tell him off. Recently he's been comparing whatever she did to wrong him to him cheating on her—its been repetitive, making me wonder if he's confession to or having thoughts about it.

Recently, she's been losing stuff. As he does with every minor inconvenience, he loses his shit. He rants for minutes, hours, all on the same topic of saying he can't fucking stand when she moves anything. She lost her medication—I still wonder if she even wants to keep living—and he ranted. This was more than before. I sat in the bathroom typing this out.

He threatened to put her in a mental hospital. He told her to hurt herself. He did that just now, as I am writing this. He's threatening to shoot himself in the shoulder for her losing the medication. "Do not talk like that," he said. To what, I don't know, her voice was too quiet. "The emotions that you just felt is what I feel everyday when you do that," he said. He's acting like she's out of line. The closest thing I heard to her acting out was her going on the deck because she was crying. "You have no fucking idea what shit goes through my head…you can't comprehend it…being a man in society." He didn't apologize, he rationalized himself. He admitted the only reason he did apologize was because everyone can hear them.

I don't know when they moved in with us, but I think she was around 18, while he was 22? I don't know. I don't know when they started dating. It's weird, she's barely older than my oldest sister and me and my sisters were shocked to find out how young she was. It's disgusting. She completely depends on her and the rest of her family remains anonymous to me, so she's stuck.

This isn't everything. But I needed to write something down.

[obliviouskara]

idk if im the only person who finds it really hot when you have a pretty girl pressed up against you and you just breathe in her scent while you hold her close like ugh

[mrmeepsmadmind]

Metalhawk: bro stop calling my people NAILS

Starscream: if you tase me im gonna make u my dead wife istg

Wheeljack: why do your optics turn separate directions whenever i mention the word 'plan'.

Ratchet: yeah i have arthritis so idc if i die tbh :/

rodimus: im buying an rv and me and all these strangers (who like me more than u, not that it matters ) (im hot) are gonna * EXPLODES EVERYONE *

wheeljack, in the middle of discussing a very elaborate pain-staking plan:... ... something just exploded & i wasn't the cause 😢...

prowl: WHERE IS YOUR RAGE

needlenose: i sure love my big dumb evil husband. sure hope a disgruntled little popcorn kernel doesn't detonate a bomb in his head

Wheeljack: fuck my life

Starscream: i love lying, so, naturally-- im gonna become a politician.

ironhide: i saw the hat man

the intelligent Bumble (bee):

[moeblob]

A succubus and a demon! (The succubi don't have names but the demon is Kronos and the succubus is one of his bosses in Hell and he's not /fond/ of the succubi for many reasons but they all adore picking on him)

Also because I love them and like to point it out, the succubi act more as pleasure dealers in the sense of they offer up whatever a human wants most in exchange for their soul. It's rarely of a sexual nature since it's what they want MOST in life. And most people's ambitions are outside of a bedroom. (happy pride, asexuals are able to get affected by a succubus now without discrimination)

[tenwhiteandalusians]

and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.

[passerinesoncaffeine]

the irony of one the first main things established about omori as a character is that he's known for his great memory as if he hasn't lost the entire fucking plot repeatedly for years.

like he has a great memory!! if you don't take into account He's Actually The God Of Repression.