#halsey pregnant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsriddles-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Gasoline | T.R

Pairing: Slytherin fem reader x Tom Riddle

WC: 3.5k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, toxic relationship, manipulation, etc.

Summary: In which your naivety of Tom Riddle seems to come back to you later in life as a not-so-perfect marriage between you two, starts to fall apart.

Are you insane like me?

Been in pain like me?

Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me?

Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?

Would you use your water bill to dry the strain like me?

Being Tom Riddle’s wife was no easy task. In the beginning, back when the two of you were dating—the Slytherin prince and princess—you were naive. You never believed what everyone said around you about Tom. He never showed that side to you, no, not until you were trapped in a marriage with him. Of course you loved him still, but you also knew this wasn’t healthy.

It began with him becoming more possessive over you. He had moments where he’d blow up, accusing you of flirting with his followers or trying to get unwanted attention by dressing like a “whore”. You’d eventually reign him in, but sometimes he would throw expensive bottles of liquor at the wall or grab you a bit too roughly. Then it was to the point you walked into your shared room to see him throwing your clothes in the fireplace as he didn’t approve of them, and he replaced them all with things he liked.

That was a little over two decades ago when the two of you got married. Time never really played a part in your life anymore now that you and Tom were both immortal. But, now you were amongst the descendants of your old friends. Like Lucius Malfoy, a living and breathing carbon copy of your dear friend Abraxas Malfoy. You were talking with Narcissa, holding the baby boy of hers, your own stomach swollen with twins.

“Madam.” Daisy, one of the house elves murmurs timidly from beside you.

“Yes?” You ask politely.

“Mr. Nott…he has left his son in a basket on the porch.” She says.

You were quick to hand Draco to Narcissa before you jog towards your front door. The door was open and you could see the other house elves pushing the basket in. You grab the little boy from the basket and gently open the letter.

“Love?” Tom asks, storming your way out of concern.

“Theodore said Laura died giving birth to their son…Theodore Alon Nott Jr. He has given us full custody to raise him as our own. He said he wouldn’t be able to give him a good life.” You explain with a frown as tears well in your eyes at the loss of your friend.

Tom looks down at the baby boy in your arms, unknowingly rocking him back to sleep. He looks back at the basket and grabs out the file that contained these things. He heads to his office as you gently coo at the baby.

You were already beginning your task of making a list of extra baby items you’ll need. For now, you were using one of the cots you had gotten for one of your boys’, but materials like that were simply replaceable in your mind.

You get Theodore laid in a cot, standing there for several minutes just watching him as your own heart hurts for the boy.

“I promise to give you a good life, Theo…and I promise to tell you all about your mummy one day, sweet boy.” You murmur before leaving to head to Tom’s office.

“He won’t answer!” He shouts, thankfully you had managed to close the door.

“Is it so bad that we raise, Theodore? We are married…Theodore said he was already blaming the child for Laura’s death…he wants to provide a good life for him. So, he thought of us.” You say confused.

“Are you fucking insane? I have plans! You being pregnant wasn’t apart of the plan just yet! But, you couldn’t fucking wait! We don’t need another child! We aren’t a fucking orphanage!” He snaps, freezing up after his own words.

You were quiet, your hands on your belly protectively. You didn’t know that he felt that way. You tried to convince yourself that he was happy, but now that he said what he’s said, you could see the fake smile he gave you. It makes sense as to why he stormed off to his office after.

“Carry on with your plans then…do not ask for my help. I’ll play no part. Instead, I’ll focus on the children. Theodore is staying.” You say, your voice void of emotion.

He didn’t get another word in as you turned and left. You couldn’t stay…no, you were about ready to cry. You manage to wobble up the stairs as you hear little whimpers from the nursery. You open the door to hear more little whimpers. You walk to the cot and frown as you see the little boy with tears, watery eyes, and those little whimpers leaving his lips.

“Oh goodness, you’re so quiet. Come here, sweet boy. All is going to be okay. Wow…you have your mumma’s eyes. In fact…you look just like your mumma. I’ll have to pull out the old picture books once you’re older.” You murmur to him as you sit in a rocking chair.

There was two…one for you and one for Tom. You waved a hand, your magic making it move to the attic. You sigh, looking down at the child in your arms.

Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?

Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?

Do the people whisper ‘bout you on the train like me?

Saying that you shouldn’t waste your pretty face like me?

“Mumma!” Mattheo yells, his tiny four year old body nearly knocking the breath out of you as he slams into you.

“Matty! What in the world?” You question.

Tom, who sat at the other end of the table in silence, looks up. You’ve hardly uttered a word to him since the night he blew up on you. He never apologized…you moved to another room. The marriage he fought tooth and nail for was falling to shambles because he wasn’t quite sure how to love.

His eyes zone in on your left hand to notice you have taken the rings off. He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he tenses.

“Theo tripped and got hurt! He can’t get up! We were just playing!” He exclaims.

“Stay here.” You say, standing as you hurry out the backdoor.

Tom watches from the window as you break off into a sprint to where the boys always like to play: the garden. He tenses as a little hand nudges him. He looks back down at Mattheo who had walked to him.

“Are you the reason why mumma cries at night?” He asks.

“What?” Tom asks, genuinely confused.

“Mumma cries at night, looking at old pictures of you both. I asked mumma about it once and she said it was nothing and that she was just happy. But, those weren’t happy tears…I don’t like when mumma is sad. You need to fix it, mister.” Mattheo says seriously.

“Dad…I’m your dad.” Tom says, not liking being called mister.

“I know…but I didn’t know if I could call you that.” He admits shyly.

Tom frowns, realizing his own ego and drive was pushing his wife and children away. Sure, children were apart of the plan later in his life, but sometimes life doesn’t work the way you expect. He gets up and kneels in front of Mattheo.

“You can call me dad, son…I know I’ve been distant…and I’m truly sorry about that, Matty.” He says.

“Okay…but, you can’t call me Matty. That’s mumma’s name for me.” He says.

You walk in with Theodore on your hip, his face buried in your neck as he whimpers. Tom was on the other side of her. You freeze seeing Tom in front of Mattheo.

“What are you doing?” You ask harshly, glaring at Tom.

“Relax, mumma…I just wanted to talk to him.” Mattheo says.

He runs over to you, hugging your leg. You gently rub his back before you glance back over at your husband who was still kneeled on the ground, looking at you. You turn away, walking upstairs to the boys’ room. You lie Theodore on his bed, gently tending to his ankle.

You help the boys get washed up before you were helping Theodore down to dinner, the twins following behind you.

“Is he okay?” Tom asks from where he sat.

“He’s fine, just a sprain.” You murmur.

“I can perform a healing spell if you don’t mind.” He says.

“No. Those spells we learned in school can only fix minor injuries. It’s not meant for sprains and breaks, Tom.” You say.

“No, no…not one of those. It’s one of mine.” He says.

“Even more the reason as to why I’m saying no. He’ll be fine within a few days.” You say firmly.

Tom quiets, nodding before focusing on his plate. He didn’t eat, he just kind of stared at it, lost in thoughts. The kids kept you lost in conversation as they told you crazy stories of their imagination. They were telling you of their adventures outside when Theodore got hurt.

“I have a question.” Theodore says nervously.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask softly.

“Can I call you mumma like Tom and Matt?” He asks.

“No! She’s my mumma!” Mattheo yells.

“Mattheo!” You and Tom scold at the same time.

You look at your husband in surprise who looks at you. You found yourself wondering what his sudden interest in your life—in your kids’ lives came from? Things hadn’t been the easiest the past few years. You faced constant whispering behind your back. You heard rumors of Tom having mistresses, some of those mistresses being with child, and the list goes on.

“Mattheo, that wasn’t polite. It was rude and disrespectful. Theodore is our family. Apologize.” Tom says firmly, his son looking at him in surprise.

“B-But…” Mattheo stutters before stopping as Tom raises his hand.

“No buts.” He says sternly.

“Mumma…” Mattheo trails.

“Listen to your father…he’s right…Theodore is our family. He’s always been a brother to both you and Tom. If he wants to call me mumma, he can…and I would still be your mumma, Matty. Nothing could ever do that. But, Theodore is a part of our family. You owe him an apology.” You say.

“I’m sorry, Teddy.” Mattheo whispers.

“It’s okay, Matt.” Theodore mumbles.

“Theo.” You say softly.

“Hm.” He hums, pushing his food around on a plate.

“You can call me mumma if you wish. But, I want you to know that your biological mumma…she was a wonderful woman, one whom I will tell you about more in the future. She would’ve been a wonderful mumma. And she is always with you, watching over you. You know…your mumma loved the stars just like you. Next time you look at the stars, remember your mumma is the brightest star in the sky.” You say softly, your eyes stinging with tears as you remember your best friend.

“I know, but I want you to be my mumma too.” He says, looking at you with big blue-green eyes that reminded you so much of Laura.

You managed to get through the rest of the night with ease, putting the boys to bed before you went back downstairs to finish cleaning up.

“Can we talk?” Tom asks from where he stood in the doorway.

“Did you realize your head was so far up your ass that you were being an asshole?” You ask.

“I’ve realized that I’ve definitely been a bit of a twat. I apologize, love…dearly. I want to fix things…I want to be apart of our kids’ lives. I’ve put my plans before family for way too long.” He says.

“I’ve torn myself apart for years, trying to entertain the idea that maybe some sick, twisted part of you never meant those words. Then, I came to terms with the fact that maybe you are cruel and heartless. And now, after four years, you want to tell me that you are just now realizing this?” You ask.

“I’m sorry…I really am love…I miss us…you…and I want to be a part of our kids’ lives. I would get on my knees for you. I’d do anything…please, love.” He says.

And all the people say

You can’t wake up, this is not a dream

You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being

With your face all made up, living on a screen

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline

“So…you and Tom are renewing your vows.” Narcissa says, the two of you drinking tea as you watch the boys play.

“Yes…I’ve grown tired of fighting the advances of his. For a while he was so sweet and loving. Now, he's controlling and domineering once more. I keep living in this dream that he’ll be this sweet, loving and gentle guy. He never is.” You say with a sigh.

Deep down, you knew he loved you so much. His ways were just warped and twisted…it was something you just had to grow use to. There was no changing Tom.

“Why not leave him?” She asks.

“I love him…but even if I did choose to leave him, it wouldn’t be possible. I am his. His wife. The mother of his children. His property. He’d track me down if I ever tried to leave, drag me back and I’d face a punishment for doing so.” You say.

Narcissa frowns, understanding that explanation more than she wished. She could say the same about Lucius. She had nothing without him though and he knew that. He’d never let her take Draco from him. So, if staying with Lucius meant she could protect her sweet Draco and to give him the best life, then she will stay.

“Can you believe they are six?” She asks, changing the subject.

“No…it seems that time keeps moving and we just want to hold onto our boys.” You say, smiling sadly at the boys.

Soon, you were tucking the boys into bed before heading to your bedroom. Tom was already laid in bed, turned away from you as you made your way to the bed. Once you were settled, you turned the lamp off and let a soft sigh out.

You awake only hours later, a cold sweat on your forehead as you trembled. You reached over to hold onto your husband only to find that he was gone.

“You can’t ever leave me.” He whispers.

“Tom? This isn’t funny.” You say shakily, looking around the room before turning the lamp on and seeing he was nowhere.

I think there’s a flaw in my code

(Oh, ooh-oh, ooh-oh, oh)

These voices won’t leave me alone

Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asks as you push your food around on your plate.

“Fine.” You mumble.

You found yourself pulling Narcissa off to the garden later as the boys played together. She looked at you worriedly.

“Cissa…he’s toying with me. H-He’s in my dreams…he’s constantly watching me…I hear him when he isn’t in the room…it’s like he’s using spells.” You ramble.

“You use to be the most lively person I knew. A flame that danced so beautifully. Then Tom came along, swallowing you up as that flame could only come alive when he wanted. And he’s taken so much from you…driving you mad and silencing that fire in you…one I once admired about you.” She sighs, looking at you pitifully.

“Cissa! I’m not crazy…I’m serious…he’s playing mind games with me.” You say, looking at her in frustration.

“Right…” She mumbles.

It was a tense silence before she hurried away to grab Draco, insisting she forgot that she was helping Lucius with something. You sit on the ground, staring at the grass with a frown as Tom watched you from the window. He smiles, feeling victorious.

Are you deranged like me?

Are you strange like me?

Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?

Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

Pointing fingers ‘cause you’ll never take the blame like me?

“My boys!” Your husband says, walking in.

You cast your eyes to the floor, unable to look into his scarlet red eyes, nor to look at his distorted form. You feel his hand on your shoulder that squeezes you painfully.

“Father.” Mattheo greets snarkily.

“Matty, please.” You plead softly.

“Did I say you could speak, wife?” He asks cooly.

You clench your jaw hearing him groan in pain as he flies back against the wall. You stand slowly, turning to face him with a cold look.

“I am so tired of you telling me what I can and cannot do. I am so tired of you spinning your web of lies, sending our children out to do your dirty work, and trying to make me feel like I am crazy! I never should have forgiven you…you are incapable of change. I’ve had it!” You shout, lifting a hand as you began to chant the spell you created.

He shouts, demanding you to stop, but you can’t. You focus on all that anger, all that sadness, and all those years of being belittled. You slowly set him down, looking at the man that stood before you.

He was young once more, sharp features, those blue eyes you fell for, his curly black hair that was neatly styled…your Tom. The one before horcruxes and losing himself…just your Tom.

“What did you do?” He asks slowly, looking at his hands.

“I’ve given you chances time after time for centuries, but I’m tired of this nonsense. There is a side to you, one that is capable of love and care—a side my children deserve at least. You are mortal and I’ll piece your soul back together every single time you wish to tear it apart for immortality. Try to kill me or my children, I dare you, but we are immortal, a way that isn’t dark and twisted like yours. Until you can prove that you are a true leader…husband…and father, you’ll be taking a step down. Until then, I’m taking over.” You say coldly, glaring at the man that you despise yet love at the same time.

“Y/n/n…love, don’t do this. Please. Make me immortal, I’ll prove myself as we go forth, but please do not ruin my plans.” He pleads.

“It’s always been about your plans and your work…well, not anymore. They are my plans and my work now.” You say, smiling sardonically at him before looking at the table of people.

“Children, you’re dismissed.” You say.

“Momma…” Theodore says, standing up as he looks at you unsure before glancing at your husband.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Come here.” You murmur, opening your arms to him.

He steps into your embrace, melting into it as he always does, holding onto you as if it’s the last time he’ll ever hug you. You kiss his temple, waiting till he lets go. Then your twin boys launch themselves at you and hug you tightly, both trying to express their feelings through a hug. You kiss their heads before gently urging them to go with Theodore and the other children to the living room.

And all the people say

You can’t wake up, this is not a dream

You’re part of a machine, you re not a human being

With your face all made up, living on a screen

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline

“Be a little less…haste, Matt. Just a flick of your wrist.” Tom says.

You watch your husband with admiration. He has proved to come a long way and was teaching your sons how to perform some of his personal spells. Spells that weren’t simple to cast.

“Good job, Theo!” He praises as Theodore prefects the spell.

You look over to your son, Tom kicking at some rocks on the ground. He’s had a hard time with accepting his father back in. He was so scared he’d end up hurting him in the long run.

“I can assure you that your father has learnt his lesson. I’ve seen into his mind and I’ve sensed it for a few weeks now. If you’d like…you can perform the spell to make him immortal.” You whisper to him.

“Does he truly deserve it, mum?” He asks quietly.

“I know he’s hurt us so much in the past, but he’s genuinely trying. He deserves it. It’s not like we can’t rip that immortality away from him. You and I are the only ones who know of the counter spell. Go on, son, you’ll do wonderful.” You urge softly.

You step back, watching him pull his wand and aim it at your husband. He mumbles the spell, a bright light shooting out of his wand. The light subsides and your husband was hunched over, slowly standing as he looks back at you and Tom.

“What…” He mumbles.

“You’re immortal. Mum said I could cast the spell.” Tom says nonchalantly.

Your husband strides forward, pulling his son into a hug. Tom tenses before slowly hugging his father back.

“To be able to perform a spell your mother has created is truly a one of a kind achievement. I’m so proud of you son.” He murmurs.

I think there’s a flaw in my code

(Oh, ooh-oh, ooh-oh, oh)

These voices won’t leave me alone

Well,my heart is gold and my hands are cold

#masterlist #harry potter universe #angst #mrsriddles-blog #mrsriddles-blogisblogging #mrsriddles-blogunhinged #writing #tom riddle fic #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #writers on tumblr #tom riddle x reader #Spotify

89 notes · View notes

petriwriting · 9 months ago

Text

My Masterlist

Here is my current masterlist, I will be updating this regularly. Feel free to drop a request or idea in my inbox, Requests are always welcome! (LAST UPDATED 11.27.24)

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Mauraders, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars, A series of unfortunate events, Supernatural, Doctor who, Euphoria, Riverdale, Skins, Glee, American horror story, The walking dead, 5 seconds of summer, Legend of zelda, The last of us, The hunger games, Divergent and anything else I post on my Main Account.

Harry Potter

Regulus Black

For the first time - No matter how bad it gets at home, there's one person that makes Regulus happy no matter what.

French Poetry & Chocolate - *Requested! A Regulus black x Slytherin reader where they are best friends and the reader gets her period and he helps and comforts her? No worries if not!

Dating Regulus Black Headcannons

Sirius Black

The Announcement - Rockstar!Sirius' wife is pregnant.

Memories - Harry reads a love story from his Godfathers old journal.

Remis Lupin

Scars - Remus is insecure.

Theodore Nott

Jealousy - What could go wrong when seeing other people?

I'll always stand up for you - Theo gets himself into a fight.

Promise - Theodore makes a promise by giving away his mother's ring.

We're just kids.. - Theodore falling in love with his best friend.

Bad idea, right? - Based on "Bad idea right" by Olivia Rodrigo.

Smithereens - Based on "Smithereens" by Twenty One Pilots

My Chef - Italian!Theodore flaunts his pasta-making skills.

Theodore Nott Headcannons.

Dad!Theodore Nott Headcanoons.

Drowning - our anniversary date with Theodore takes a turn.

Vero Amore - Multiple Part Mini Series. *Completed

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

Finally. - Does Thedore Nott hate you?

Talk, Talk - Based on Talk Talk by Charli XCX

The End - Based on The End by Halsey

Bad Boyfriends - your boyfriend treats you terribly and Theodore comforts you when you finally break up. Then you realize you love him.

Amortentia - The most powerful love potion in the world.

Father of the year - Dad!Theo

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Peter Parker - Spider-man

All over again - Peter falls in love for the second time. or maybe it's still like the first time.

Dad!Peter Parker Headcannons.

OuterBanks

JJ Maybank

Through it all - Based on the last few episodes of Season 4.

Thats my Girl! - Ruthie gets what she deserves

Bright Future Ahead - JJ gets his act together finally.

The Adventure Beyond - Dad!JJ Maybank

You Deserve Better - your boyfriend SUCKS

Always (by your side) - You are by his side after morocco.

Swimming - JJ teaches you how to swim.

124 notes · View notes

ohraicodoll · 2 years ago

Text

You Bury Me

Joel Miller x Feral Reader/OC The Last of Us 7k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: A failed trade, a dress, music, and their own form of confession. Warning: Hurt/Comfort. Explicit Sexual Content. 18+ Minors DNI

“I'll never know If there's danger in confession Or it's memory that presses Like a blade against my throat Another word and I could choke But what's worse? Tellin' you my feelings Or to die without revealing That you got inside my head And set a fire there instead?”” -”Ya'aburnee” by Halsey “Ya'aburnee means "you bury me." In Arabic however, it represents the idea that you hope the person you love will live longer than you, so you don't have to live without them.”

“Well aren’t you a stunner,” Tommy grinned, looking her over despite her stance giving off the vibe of a wet cat being forced into a room full of children. She shot him a withering stare, glare sharp, but the hostility wasn’t there like usual. Just extreme discomfort. He only kept smiling and she disliked how they were starting to be unaffected by her now that they were getting used to her.

She glowered, hands fidgeting with the material of her dress, feeling bare and uncomfortable outside of pants and entirely weaponless. The dress was snug, fitted to her body, short bell sleeves of all things draped from her shoulders. She hadn’t worn anything fitted in over a decade, hadn’t worn anything other than pants since the Outbreak. Even now she wore whatever she could grab off the floor, whether it be hers or Joel’s or Ellie’s. At this point Joel was complaining about both of them taking his shirts. But Maria had forced the black dress onto her and pushed her into it even after she’d sneered at the ruffled skirt and v-neck that showed more cleavage than she was comfortable with. Tommy’s wife was starting to grow immune to her snapping as well, knowing that for as much as she barked, there was zero bite against her especially while she was pregnant.

She’d brought it on herself and was going to suffer through it. When sandals were brought out, she flat refused. She could fight in a skirt if she needed to but she drew the line at anything other than her boots, no matter how much Maria corrected her that she wouldn’t be fighting at all. This all had been done with much protesting. A lot of protesting. But she’d been at a disadvantage. She had initiated the trade. Maria didn’t need anything from her and therefore didn’t have anything she wanted for the trade she’d been trying to do between them. Instead, the woman had given her another option in the spirit of integration. She had to come to one of Jackson’s monthly gatherings and dress up for it. Literally. She almost walked out. Almost. This felt like a sort of punishment of the worst kind. A punishment for all the stress and fights and problems she’d been at the center of. Maria was trying so hard to force her to be like everyone else and didn’t understand it was like stepping on a pile of sharp, hot blades. It was physically uncomfortable to be around so many people, especially dressed as she was. No armor. No one understood how intense that feeling was except for Joel, even Ellie having a hard time processing sometimes.

Maria grinned smugly in that overly assured way she always did when she thought she knew better and her teeth grit behind thinned lips. She needed Ellie or Joel as a buffer between her and everyone else, not liking the feeling of the attention being on her. But the teenager had already run off to find her new friends and she wasn’t going to hold her back. The older man was nowhere to be seen since working a construction shift.

She was trying. God, was she trying if only for Ellie and Joel’s sake but it was hard getting used to being surrounded and not on edge 24/7. Ellie had made sure to wolf-whistle at her when she’d seen her, now that she knew how, and asked if she was wearing the outfit because she had a concussion. The little shit. She wanted to lay out back with the pigs and die. “Fuck off, It was part of a trade,” she bit out, the words easier in her anger, slightly glaring at them both in an attempt to hide her discomfort, “All this for a damn record player.” Tommy’s brow furrowed and he looked over at his wife with a frown, “Record player? Our record player?” Maria shrugged, “Yeah, we don’t really use it or have any good records for it so I’m trading it to her.” The younger Miller winced, looking between both women almost fearfully though the look he was giving her was far more nervous, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I traded that today. I didn’t know-” “You traded it?” her voice cut him off incredulously, irritation and the bitter taste of disappointment on her tongue. Her tone was sharp, cutting, as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, “Seriously? Maria-” Tommy cringed harder, eyes roaming as if to search out Joel or Ellie out of safety, while his wife raised her hands placatingly, “I didn’t know, Red. Listen, I’ll figure something out. I’ll see if someone else has one and I’ll make it right.” She felt stupid. She never asked for anything herself. Never tried to get non-essential items or things just for her. Every trade she had made or request had been for the two people she cared for or the kennels. Join the community, they had said. She tried. If only to keep from getting kicked out and Joel and Ellie from being ostracized because of her. Everyone was still terrified of her and she knew that if she got kicked out, there would be no stopping the two of them from following her no matter how much she protested.

So she tried even when it felt like being skinned alive for their sake.

She’d tried to make bridges between her and Tommy, get along somewhat with Maria and even approached her for a trade. It had felt like she was being choked while doing it, but she had and had then suffered Maria’s ministrations and been forced out of her comfort zone for even a hint of a prize. Had sat there, seething as Maria did her hair and dabbed makeup on her, nails digging into her thigh. Now there was nothing but embarrassment.

Stupid. Fucking stupid. Her cheeks were flush and her chest tight, feelings she never allowed to sink in now flooding her. Embarrassment. She was so embarrassed. She hadn’t felt embarrassed since she was younger, hadn’t cared what people thought of her in the years since the Outbreak but now- the feeling was hot and sticky in her chest.

Spinning away from them with a snarl, she pushed through the crowd of happy people dancing around them having a good time and tried to ignore the flutter of her skirt against her legs and the pressing atmosphere of too many people. Skin bumping against her bare arms, laughter in her ear, the lights too bright. Too many eyes, staring, judging, standing at her back. Their laughter was choking her, the music for once not helping but muffling her ears to the point she couldn’t hear herself think. Panic. It hit her hard and she tried to breathe as she ran for the exit.

It’d been a mistake. She wasn’t the same girl from over twenty years ago who had loved music so much she had forced herself into the spotlight despite her fear and anxiety. Letting Maria dress her up, making her feel like a semblance of that girl again, had been a mistake. That girl had died and needed to stay buried if she was going to survive. She wasn’t bashful, gentle, pretty, or delicate. No, that’d all been beaten out of her over and over and over again by life and everything cruel. The world chewed up those types of people and she hadn’t let it, had gnashed her teeth at it and become something else to survive. Maybe she wasn’t made for settlement life. She wanted to claw the dress off her body and burn it, stick her head in a bucket of water until the makeup ran off. She had let herself want something and got burned for it. At least Joel hadn’t been there to see it all, mock her for playing dress up and see how she lacked in comparison to all the other women he could have. She wasn’t sure if she could handle his laughter. He kept her around because she was ruthless, not because of how she looked, and now she appeared weak. Ellie noticing had been bad enough. She didn’t remember the walk home. Only the press of the fabric constricting her skin, the slight buzz of the electricity overhead, the way her heartbeat was overwhelming in its rapid pace. Her breathing was choked around the panic and rage and embarrassment crawling through her veins and she needed to hide away for a while. The slight squeak of the front steps grated in her ear but pulled her back into herself enough to realize she had made it. She huffed out another annoyed sigh, unlocking the front door. She was going to shower, rinse all the stares and laughter and evidence of her humiliation, and hide in bed. Maybe get up early and take a morning patrol shift if only to clear her head and avoid the looks of all the townspeople that had witnessed her embarrassment, breathe in the woods and the wilderness. Hell, maybe she’d take a dive into the river and let it wash her downstream and away from it all. But as she opened the door, she came to a frozen halt. There was music playing in the living room. The soft crooning of Ella Fitzgerald filled the space, the tune soft and low with only the slightest crackling of a worn speaker. It wasn’t the busted radio Joel had tried to fix that cut out every other second. The lights were low, only a lamp on in the corner, and the music made the space feel so much softer, almost warmer. And there it was. The record player she had made the deal for sitting on the top of a small end table that most of the time was covered in books or tools or gun parts. “Hey,” she could feel Joel’s presence even before he spoke, that part of her mind that always kept track of him no matter where he was in the house or around her. But her eyes were stuck on the record player and the spin of the vinyl, watching the motion hypnotically and flooded by the music. Everything drained from her, leaving her hollow, frozen, empty. Her voice was loud in her ears, a roar in a chasm, but she knew it was barely a whisper in the space between them, “I was going to trade for that.” Joel didn’t reply but she could see him rub the back of his neck out the corner of her eye, the slight wince crossing his face as he tucked a hand into his belt, “Sorry, I got it from Tommy today…I knew you had your eye on one and you’ve been stashing records in the downstairs room with no way to play them. This one even has one of those cassette slots for that tape you keep and I know Bobby who runs the library has a good stash of those-” “Joel, shut up,” she whispered though none of the usual harshness was there. Instead, she was struggling to breathe, to suck in air past the knot in her throat and the stinging feeling in her eyes. He’d gotten it for her. Not for him, but for her. He had noticed the things she did, what she liked, and had done something nice for her. Often the things he did for them were utilitarian in nature though he did more for Ellie. It was how he showed he cared. Fixing Ellie’s window, loading the woman’s packs with everything she might need the night before her morning shifts, getting her new boots when her old ones started to rip. But there was no practical reason for the record player. He knew bits and pieces about her that she had given him, scraps of her life. Knew she had tried to be a singer before the world went to hell and her love of music. Knew that the cassette tape in her bag, the one she’d murdered people to keep from getting a hold of, contained her favorite music her sister had made for her as well as her own voice from a rough band practice Annie had recorded. It’d been a birthday present. Remembered the way she would trace her fingers over the records in the wreckage of stores as they passed through them on the road. He’d watched and cataloged it all and had noticed. He’d always noticed her. “Maria made me dress up in exchange for that,” her voice was raspy, choked, “Stuck me in this stupid dress and forced me to put on makeup and did my hair and made me go to that party. All part of a deal so I could get that player.” Joel was quiet, not interrupting but taking her in. Gauging how best to approach lest she run or snap. She could feel his eyes burning into every inch of exposed skin, to the tightening of her hands and the clenching of her jaw. But slowly he stepped a bit closer, more into the light, with a sigh, “It looks good on you-” “I look fucking stupid, Tex,” the words were spit out aggressively, “I feel ridiculous. They all saw me and there were so many people- But I did it. Then Tommy said he’d already traded it and…I don’t know.” She finally turned to look at him, the words a jumble. She couldn’t even understand what she was trying to convey. The overwhelming feeling of shame and disappointment and panic that had flooded her and made her want to run. She caught the way the light reflected off his eyes, the furrow in his brow and the tightness in his shoulders. He was being careful. Even after all the time they’ve known each other, he knew sometimes to be careful. Not to spook her. “You don’t look stupid,” he muttered gently in an effort to convince her and met her eyes, not breaking eye contact and trying to persuade her to listen, “You…you look beautiful and I’m not just fucking saying that. I wouldn’t lie to you, darlin’. Don’t listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine and what I’m saying.” She swallowed, heart racing, “Why?” “Why listen to me?” “No, why did you do it? Why did you get it?” The thought weighed heavy, but also was a distraction to keep from focusing on his voice calling her beautiful. It was dumb and meaningless. Placating. He hadn’t mentioned needing a record and had listed things that only pertained to her. She had records, she had been eyeing it. It felt like she owed him a debt, but that thought also sounded like an excuse, the alternative something she couldn’t quite process. The record was ending, the soft music stopping and leaving them only in silence. He stared at her, took in the hard press of her lips, the way her fingers were fidgeting with her dress, the stiffness of her body as if at any second she’d bolt like a wild animal. Maybe she would. She was more animal than woman most days. Joel sighed and chewed on his lip, tasting a hint of blood from the dry cracked skin, “Because I knew it would make you happy.” The scoff that left her mouth was broken, half-hearted. It tasted of excuses and denial. “When have you ever cared about what makes me happy?” “Don’t,” the word was hard and unyielding, almost a snarl, his brow furrowing deeper, “Don’t do that. We’re far, far past that kind of bullshit now, Starshine, and you know it. We’ve been far past that for a good while now. Maybe out there you could have gotten away with that bullshit, but not here and now. Not after everything.” She did know it. But it was the last barrier she could keep between them, a shredded tattered thing to shield herself. The vestiges of that hatred that had burned at the beginning of their relationship so long ago, had stayed long after he started fucking her and then had dissipated when they weren’t looking like a magic trick.

Distrust had turned to respect and then protectiveness behind their backs. She didn’t want to think about what it had turned into next. She’d done so much to keep them both safe because they were hers. She’d burn the whole fucking world down for them, would rip and tear whoever she needed to just to keep them safe, and would smile the whole way. But she and Joel had never spoken out loud what they were. She knew what Ellie was to her, to them both, but between the two adults? That was something else. They were hers and he had said she was his before. But it wasn’t something solid or straight forward. The last tinges of her old self who had been awkward and didn’t know how to navigate dating and relationships still hung on in that aspect, but it was mostly fear. It was a dance she didn’t know the steps to, a language she never learned. She understood sex and family but it’d been so long since she had a relationship and her last had been twisted into something ugly. It was tangled together with her sister, with her death and her screams and the sound of a gunshot. She didn't know how to detangle love from violence. Joel stepped closer and her instinct screamed to run. Her heart was beating like a rabbit caught in a trap, the intimacy almost as frightening as a gun to her head or a Clicker’s teeth. She wasn’t breathing anymore, dressed fisted tightly in her claws. “I know shit’s different here, but unless you have some plans to go back across the country then this is it,” Joel’s accent was thick as he continued to step closer, words direct and to the point, “This is home. This is the place we protect. Ellie, me, and you. And if this is where we’re gonna be I want you to be happy. I want you to have your music, have whatever you want. I’ll fix that guitar and we’ll teach Ellie or I’ll hunt down all those dumb comics she likes so much. Fuck, I’ll be the one to learn to cook if I have to so she stops complaining and so you don’t have to. I’ll let you bring those dogs home whenever you want and maybe let Ellie keep one. I want you happy.” She was choking on her heart, air trapped in her throat and she didn’t know what to do but stand there and shake and listen as Joel painted an image of a life she wasn’t sure she could allow herself to want. “You’re it for me, darlin’,” Joel huffed out a chuckle and shook his head as if disbelieving he was having to tell her outloud, “You and me. I’m not looking at anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. You and Ellie are my purpose and that means I’m going to take care of you both until the day I die. In whatever capacity that means. Whether it continues like we’ve been, continues to a church one day, or out there in the woods without Jackson. It’s us three. I’m not asking you to let your guard down or stop snapping at any dipshit who thinks they can handle you or be some domesticated stepford wife. But I want this place to be home. All of ours.” Her eyes were flickering everywhere else except his own and she wondered if she had ever felt so terrified. Not since the beginning. Not since watching her own version of Ellie get torn to shreds. Not since she’d hollowed everything inside her but the rage and the ugly parts and let it fester into something wild. She’d survived beatings, survived with the worst type of people, survived being a weapon and not once was terrified during those years. Fighting and survival was easy. Killing was easy. Mindless sex was easy. Feelings were not. Feelings got you hurt, got you killed, killed you slowly and made you crazy with worry and the endless possibilities of what could happen. She’d seen Joel wrestle with them. The panic attacks and that numbing fear. There weren’t supposed to be feelings with her and Joel. But that was a lie. They’d been there, deep and hidden under other things. Protecting Ellie. Getting her to the Fireflies. Adjusting to living in Jackson. Jobs and patrol and helping. They were all a distraction. He lifted a hand to her cheek and she couldn’t help the flinch, the shivering as if she was standing in a freezer. But Joel didn’t back off, let her get adjusted and close the distance between them on her own like coaxing a wounded animal to safety. Her hands dropped the now wrinkled fabric of her dress and instead reached out to grip his flannel shirt, relaxing bit by bit while his hand moved to dive into her brushed and slightly curled hair. “You’re mine,” he whispered, feeling the soft strands between his fingers, “Say the word and I’ll get you every damn record player in this town. Whatever makes you happy.” She choked out a laugh that was half a sob, the sound releasing from her throat, and her eyes stung. But she only squeezed them shut, struggling to breath and enjoying the feeling of his touch. His other hand rested over hers on his shirt and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaning against her, “You do look beautiful, baby. I promise. You take my goddamn breath away. It’s a good thing I didn’t see you out there, I’d probably have made an idiot of myself or bashed someone’s face in if I caught them staring.” The laugh that ripped through her seemed to break loose everything choked up inside of her. He called her beautiful. The words sent something close to butterflies in her stomach. It didn’t feel real and this new territory still terrified her, but little sparks of joy lit her way. She had vague memories of feeling this way years ago. But this was real and now and felt so much brighter than her memories. She couldn’t help the slight smile, voice still slightly unsure, “I had to promise Maria I wouldn’t fight anyone there.” Joel chuckled, holding her tighter against his chest, rocking her slightly, “You wouldn’t be breaking your promise if I was doing the fighting.” Looking up at him, she let herself sink into his warmth and lifted a hand to trace the beard along his chin. It used to be that this was the Joel she would get at night only. Slightly teasing, slightly playful, more open especially after sex. A stoic wall in the daytime. Something had shifted after leaving Jackson that first time, after he’d tried to dump them off on Tommy. Shifted more after his injury and Denver. Now as they settled into life in Jackson, she could see fully how at ease he was with her. There had been progressively more smiles in the daytime, more soft touches even if discreetly. Eventually not so discreetly. His hand in her back pocket, his arm around her shoulders, on her back. Starshine morphed from being an insult to an endearment. It had been a slow, gradual change, but it had happened. She had only refused to acknowledge it, maybe out of fear. Now staring at him, she let herself see that more often he was smiling at her than frowning. Only called her Red when he was angry or frustrated otherwise it was Darlin’ or Starshine. His room had quickly turned into their room and every morning he was usually wrapped around her. Was there waiting at the gate everytime she had to leave without him, though he preferred to stay at her side. Tommy had once called all three of them codependent and maybe they were, but they were safest with each other. They were home. So she lifted herself up and drew his face down to her, breathing against his lips and almost tentatively kissing him. Like it was new, like she would have if it was twenty years ago and they were meeting back then. She couldn’t say all of what she was feeling out loud, was too tired to admit how much he had shaken her foundation with this one seemingly small act and then demolished it entirely with his words. So she breathed into him, whispering along his lips, “You’re mine too,” and kissed him softly and hoped he knew everything that entailed. He pressed back against her harder, mouth slotting against hers and groaning. The hand in her hair gripped her neck and pulled her as close as she could get, the other moving to grip her waist and the soft fabric there. She felt unsure, awkward, not used to feelings being between them so openly and the pace being soft versus brutal or fervent. Her fingers trailed over the salt and pepper beard of his chin, the slight wisps of curls at the base of his neck, the muscles of his biceps as they wrapped around her. It was almost an effort not to sink her nails into him, to bite his lips with her teeth. Their steps were fumbling as he walked her backwards until her back hit the living room wall. His hand was roaming all over her, touching the bare skin of her legs and drifting his fingers upward under her skirt. They kneaded the soft skin of her thighs and he moaned into her mouth though that quickly turned into a chuckle as his hands found the pair of shorts she put on under the dress. He looked down, lifting the fabric to peer at the additional clothing underneath, “Did you put shorts on underneath this?” She blushed, swatting his hand to drop the skirt, “Shut up, I felt naked.” Joel chuckled and bent, pressing kisses to the underside of her neck before trailing lower, biting and dragging his lips as he went, “You’re cute when you’re bashful, ya know that? It’s fine. Just one more thing to take off ya.”

Her hands dug into the fabric of his shirt and she was determined not to pout, objecting at being called cute of all things, but quickly found herself melting at his ministrations. The delicious friction of his beard on her skin always did something to her and she was feeling especially sensitive to him, her nerves on fire. Joel bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder, sucking and teasing the skin, drawing a moan from her mouth. There’d be a mark there, she knew that, and didn’t care. “I wouldn’t mind you wearing dresses more often. Jesus, woman, you’re gorgeous,” he moaned against her skin as he kissed the top of her cleavage. Unconsciously, a yelp left her mouth when he bent down and scooped her up with his hands under her ass, arms flying around his neck and legs crossing around his waist. He grinned at the sound and the flush that heated her cheeks, “I got ya, darlin’. Just wanted to get you to the room before the kid bulldozes in here.” “You are not climbing those stairs with me,” she hissed, looking at the staircase behind them. No matter how strong he was, she also was very aware of both their ages and that if they injured themselves stumbling down the stairs on their way to have sex she’d ask Ellie to put her out of her misery. Joel huffed a laugh, “You’re right, I’m not. We’re using the downstairs room. I’m old, I ain’t stupid.” The spare bedroom on the first floor had quickly become the spare after Joel had complained the handful of times she’d slept down there. Now almost every night she shared the upstairs bed with him lest she wanted to be woken up by him kicking the side of the mattress and grumbling to “get to the room.” It held various things they had scavenged and collected like the guitar Joel had made a project to get to working order, the pieces for it she’d traded along with his craft bench she got for him, her hoarded music, and the various knickknacks she hadn’t wanted to clutter up what she had deemed Joel’s room. Though every now and then the things she put there would somehow appear upstairs, out on full display on top of the shelves and dressers mixed in with his belongings. His own way of making her stuff mingle with his.

He carried her through the door and kicked it shut with her foot, quickly remembering to hit the lock as a precaution after Ellie had almost barged in on them a couple times before. Joel made sure to take advantage of holding her, fingers kneading the soft skin of her ass and keeping her pressed tight against him. With a squeal she hadn’t heard herself make in over two decades, she was dropped down on the small mattress on the far side of the room and he quickly climbed on top, not leaving her alone for even a second. She could feel the delicious pressing of his arousal through his jeans, the way he ground it against her core making her groan. His mouth found hers, frantic and eager, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and diving into the soft graying curls of his hair. She loved to feel the weight of him on her, the hard press of him steady and assuring. Hands quickly tugging his shirt out from his jeans, she felt the heat of his skin and the ridge of every scar she had cataloged by that point. Bullet grazes, knife slices, the puckered edge of that brutal stabbing that had almost taken him away from them. She knew them all, had kissed and licked every single one and memorized them.

Joel Miller’s body was a thing of beauty, not softening even with age or settlement life. He’d quickly taken up a position in the community he knew how to do well. Construction. It kept him active, in shape, working with his hands and that meant he was still covered in muscle from a hard day's work. It was also why she wasn’t surprised when he had gained the attention of most of the women in Jackson, especially now that he had softened up personality wise. But he’d chosen her. Was kissing her, currently worshiping her mouth and trailing those rough fingers along her arms to intertwine with hers together. It was her that was making him moan and pant her name. Not her name. That name, the one given to her at birth by a woman who didn’t care who she was, had been given to the woods and the bodies she’d left behind. No, he whispered the name they had given her. The only name that mattered now as if she was baptized into this new life the moment she’d met them and been given it.

Red. Starshine. Darlin. Theirs. His. Her fingers pressed into the skin of his back and she hooked her legs around his, welcoming him to settle between her thighs while she poured everything into kissing him. She swallowed each sound, welcomed the burn of his beard against her skin, feeling arousal shoot straight through her and pool at her core. When she went to unbuckle his belt, he paused her movement and pulled back, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck and the deep V of her dress, “Not yet. I wanna savor this dress on you. Show you exactly how beautiful I think you are.” She bit her lip at the heated look, the slight smirk as he sat up, hands roaming over her thighs. Her own insecurities turned her nervous and she struggled to keep eye contact as his hands found the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down and off of her. He chuckled and threw them across the room, “Next time you wear something like this, you can go without those…if I’m feeling generous and let you leave the house.” “Let me, huh?” she whispered, bottom lip still between her teeth. Joel bent down and pushed the skirt of her dress up, bunching it around her waist, “Can’t have other men wanting what’s mine.” He took his time, tracing the edges of her underwear teasingly, the rough pads of his fingers sending small shocks through her in anticipation. Ever so slowly, he pulled her panties off her legs and knelt between her thighs, leaving heated kisses against the skin. She swallowed, mouth dry, and let out an airy chuckle, “Better watch it, Miller.” He paused, dark eyes meeting hers, “What’d I say about my name, Starshine?” Smirking and remembering that night so long ago when he had fucked her in the abandoned store, the night that cemented the path they would take, she raised herself up on her elbows and stared down at him, “Joel.” And then his tongue was on her, parting her folds and licking up every bit of her arousal. A moan tore from her mouth, head falling back as he devoured her whole, lips sucking on her clit and teasing her desperately. His hands palmed her bare ass and the thick meat of her thigh, fingers bruising as he teased her with his tongue. Joel had always been so good at that, something she had gotten intimately familiar with once they had settled down and were able to finally have time to explore one another. No longer having to have quick blind fucks in the dark, one ear open to danger or Ellie waking up. She didn’t think he even got to see her with her clothes fully off until they made it back to Jackson. But now that they had time he made sure each moment lasted. He played her like his guitar, pulling sounds from her mouth unbidden with each flick of his fingers and tongue. Joel Miller was good with his hands and knew exactly what to do to make her come hard and fast when he wanted her to. But he was taking his time, bringing her to the edge then slowing down before doing it over and over again. She was never one to beg, but she could feel the plea on her mouth as she ached all over for release and overwhelmed by the sensitivity. She panted his name in desperation and could feel him grin against her, mouth glistening with herself, “Tell me what you want, darlin’. Come on.” So fucking cocky, this asshole. She was tempted to swallow her words, swallow her own tongue just to be defiant. But then he dipped his tongue into her, the flat plane of it sending shockwaves through her body and she growled, “Fucking make me come already.” He laughed at the not so gentle plea as if knowing she wouldn’t mewl and beg like he wanted, shaking his head, “So bossy.” But she didn’t care after that because he was sucking her clit between his lips and his fingers were pumping into her, hard and fast, curling into the exact spot that made her see stars. The friction of his beard on her, his tongue, his hands were all so much and she was overwhelmed, body made of fire and lighting searing every nerve. She came against his mouth, orgasm hitting her hard enough it took her breath away. Her body felt like it was floating, Joel’s careful hands keeping her from washing away, gentle lips leaving soft kisses along her thigh. A thrill went through her at the gentle affirmations and breathy, “good girl,” he whispered into her skin. She was still catching her breath, but could feel him locate the zipper on her dress and he helped her to sit up to pull it up. So gentle with her like she was the most valuable thing in the world. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and slowly she undid them, feeling his eyes on her as he kneeled between her thighs. His hands never left her skin, trailing softly over her calf but letting her take her time. Each layer came off of him. Shirt, undershirt, belt, jeans. He let her unveil him like it was a ritual. And when he was naked before her, both of them bare and heart open, his hands cradled her cheeks when he kissed her. It was more intimate than anything she had ever felt and was as if he was cradling her raw heart between his hands. It was fire and fear and joy and so much and yet not enough. It was an I love you without words. She pulled him down on top of her and deepened the kiss, tongue swirling to lick up every bit of herself and devour his own taste. Everything that made him Joel. Her gasp was swallowed as he started to push into her, groaning at how tight and warm she felt, thighs slick with the aftermath of her orgasm. Her forehead was pressed against his and she drank down every little sound his mouth made, every hitched breath, watching as his lashes flickered against his cheeks. The pace was slow, building, and she hooked her legs around his calves to usher him deeper, wanting him to fill her up as much as he could. “Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, fingers tightening on her thigh while the other intertwined with the hand above her head. She held onto him like her life depended on it and let her drown in him, gave him the control and simply held on. Trusted him. Each stroke was a lightning strike and she could feel the way he was slowly losing himself in her, the pace becoming faster and thrusts more aggressive. Her orgasm was climbing, pleasure tightening low in her belly, skin hot with sweat. Her hand clenched his, almost a sign to him, and he broke at last. His mouth collided with hers, tongue against her own, teeth biting into her lips. Joel pounded into her relentlessly, her name on his lips and hold bruising. This was how she liked him best. Passionate and uncontrollable, a fucking tornado to be reckoned with. She’d seen it only when it came to them. Whether it be protecting them or destroying everything in his path to get to them. Joel was as much a beast as her at times but she’d always accepted that, never shied away.

Like calls to like.

Both their orgasms were building together, crashing into one another as if their bodies knew. Every tense moment, every decision and fight and fuck and choice, had led them together and she felt it in her whole being that this was who she was supposed to find at the end of the road. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let go, letting her be pulled under by him and their bodies and everything that had come before and would come later. It was fireworks and electricity and everything as her orgasm hit and she moaned hard into his mouth, feeling him release inside of her, warm and full. He would always follow her over the edge and the thought made her eyes sting.

They were panting, breathing each other in, bodies sweaty and sticky and the cooling air doing nothing against heated skin. She opened her eyes and met his dark irises, watching her intently, and she couldn’t help but grin at him wide. His breath caught and he swallowed hard, hand leaving her thigh so he could trace the crinkles around her eyes. He caressed the skin with his thumb in reverie, drawing out a blush even after everything they had just done. It was new to feel so exposed. A second later they could hear the front door crash open followed quickly by the familiar stomps of Ellie entering the house, kicking the door shut even after they had told her a million times to stop doing that. They froze, eyes locked on each other, waiting to see if she would call for them or try to enter the downstairs room for some reason. But they could track her loud steps up the stairs and a bit later her door shut.

It was hard to believe she ever used to be good at walking silently out beyond the walls. They both breathed a sigh of relief and then chuckled only for Joel to quickly hiss, pressing his face against her neck as she unconsciously clenched around him, “Darlin’ don’t laugh while I’m still in you.” She had to try and keep another chuckle in, a first for her, knowing it would only make her do it again. Teasingly, she did it on purpose one more time only for him to bite her shoulder and she yelped, letting laughter take over her once he had pulled out. He chuckled as well, pressing small kisses all over her skin. It would take time to get used to all the new. The new change in their dynamic, the open feelings, the music, the softness, the laughter and smiles, the fear that came with it all. Lifting your armor can leave you vulnerable but without doing so there was no way the joy could get in as well. And she couldn’t live her life without them, would brave every horror imaginable for them.

She’d take it all if it meant she got to keep both of them. ______________________________________

Feral Reader Tag List:

@alouise20 @faceache111 @hawsx3 @taxidriversainz @iluvbunnyhops @mrfitzdarcyslover @emlovesya @agent007knight @spaacerabbit @namgification @wonwoosthetic @wxnderingthoughts @sagggy @escaping-reality8 @badwolf00593 @themothersmercy @mxtokko @happinessinthebeing@taranicristeard @aroacefanenby @barbellpedro

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller imagine #series: feral #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #tlou #the last of us #joel miller #feral reader #raicodoll writes #in case you haven't noticed but the last Halsey album is basically Red's whole vibe

462 notes · View notes

sadgirlglimmeringdarling · 29 days ago

Note

Olivia has lupus. How could she? 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

In my opinion, I don't really believe Olivia has Lupus. I'm just going by all the pics and vids she's posted of herself on IG over the years. She's put that out there for public consumption. With that being said, I don't know how anyone with Lupus can survive this long as a smoker.

You just don't go on for years and years smoking, eating junk food on the road and swallowing energy drinks like it's water when you have Lupus. It's not possible for the body to survive for years with all those toxins going inside your body. No one with Lupus can survive that for that long.

That's why I always questioned if Olivia has Lupus.

Lupus is a disease that destroys your organs. Imagine being a smoker with all that happening in your body. Jesus Christ.

Lets look at Selena Gomez.

She went years smoking, partying and allegedly doing drugs. She had no idea she had Lupus. When she found out she had Lupus, she needed a kidney transplant. The Lupus destroyed her kidney and her lifestyle made it worst. Not her fault really. She had no idea she had Lupus. Once she did, she changed her lifestyle.

Halsey is another one. She glorified smoking from 2011 - 2020.

Halsey - smoked for years, partied hard and also allegedly did drugs. She got pregnant, got herself clean for her baby and as soon as she had her son, she got gravely sick. She learned she had Lupus after giving birth. She probably was another one walking around without any idea of having Lupus.

Both Selena and Halsey did interviews over the years describing fatigue and "I feel like there's something wrong with me but I don't know what it is" - not knowing what was wrong with them was that they had Lupus. They knew something was wrong but they didn’t know what the hell it was.

At least when they both found out they had Lupus, they changed their lifestyles completely, living clean healthy lives.

But Olivia? According to what she posts on her IG - she hasn't changed anything despite "having Lupus". What do her doctors say? What does Jack say? People die from Lupus everyday. Posting #Lupuswarrior on IG one time for getting a Covid vaccine ain't doing shit for her.

I actually took a look at her IG just now. She hasn't posted anything with smoking, energy drinks or junk food it seems for a while. Then again, I don't watch her IG religiously, so maybe she deleted something. Maybe she finally quit smoking or perhaps she doesn't post it on social media anymore. She use to get a lot of criticism back in the day for posting smoking pics. She would snap at people in the comments who asked her why she was smoking when she had Lupus. Typical Olivia behavior.

For her health's sake, I hope Olivia finally quite smoking. No one in this day and age should be smoking. It causes cancer. Period.

As someone who has friends and family members with Lupus, I see the pain and struggle with having Lupus. People are placed in disability for Lupus for a good reason.

Here's a documentary on Lupus for those interested.

#olivia jean #lupus #halsey #selena gomez #jack white

16 notes · View notes

11thfempachi · 12 days ago

Text

Halsey saying that pregnancy did not make her "get in touch with her womanhood" or whatever is so funny like geez I wonder why a single action that women's entire lives are reduced to and is yet still met with misogynistic hatred by many, did not make you want to be associated with the sex that is treated like breeding stock because it can get pregnant

10 notes · View notes

mayanneaa · 8 days ago

Text

'golden cove' series - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

005. - just the heat || on wattpad.

PAIRING : jj maybank x fem!kook!oc

WARNING(S) : swearing, kinda not proofread, if you spot any errors please lmk

A/N : cove's a certified 2016 music lover

WC : 1.4k

golden cove masterlist. | jj's masterlist.

I try my best to hide the excitement at dinner. I don't know why, but the thought of doing something—anything—that isn't a stupid kook party and not going further than to the beach has me buzzing. For once, I actually feel needed.

My parents sit by the table, the usual silence between us three. We're eating the chicken I made with Dad when I finally speak up, "I think I'll go shopping tomorrow."

My dad barely looks up, just nodding before cutting another piece. "Do you need the car?" he asks.

"Yeah," I reply quickly. "I promise I'll refuel!"

He hums in response, and that's the end of the conversation. We sink back into the silence.

It's an everyday pattern in this house. My dad is a good person, he works hard for us to be able to get anything we want, but he just does not listen or care. I could tell him I was pregnant by some random internet guy, and he'd just hum and go back to his papers. It was... tiring.

It got worse when Mason left for his 'big trip' with his best friend, Lukas. As much as I hate to admit it, he was the only person in this house who could listen to me.

I'd barge into his room and talk about the stupidest little things while he played some games or waxed his surfboard. And he would listen every time.

Of course, I had my mom. With her shifts as a nurse, when she came home she usually wanted to rest, and I respected that. But the sting was still there.

So, now, I was left to myself most of the time. It truly was a blessing in disguise. Most of the people in my classes would kill for a situation like this - being free all the time, being able to do pretty much anything you'd want.

I sigh as I finish my plate and get up, "I'll be heading to bed," I say while loading the dishwasher. "Goodnight!"

After my shower, I slip straight under my sheets.

Tomorrow's going to be a long day. With all the driving, I need a good night's sleep—or at least enough to survive JJ. Although, with him in the passenger seat, crashing might not be the worst option.

𓆉 ⋆｡˚𓇼 ⋆｡˚𓆟

I am ready to go when I get down, and the car's waiting for me in the driveway. Anxiety bubbles up inside me. I'm not usually the one driving around the Outer Banks—my bike is enough for me. Besides, the world doesn't need more CO2 emissions, so I'm basically doing everyone a favor.

I just hope JJ got the memo. Sure, plenty of people stroll through the museum in regular clothes, but we're not just tourists today. We need to get access to the deeper parts and to do that, we have to look like we know what we're doing.

I check my bag for the fourth time. Everything's packed. When I get outside, the breeze wraps me around, a momentary relief before the wave of heat hits. Thank God Dad fixed the car's AC already. Handling JJ and sweating my ass off in a metal box for a total of six hours? No way.

The car starts slowly, warming up. In the meantime, I connect my phone to the radio and shuffle one of my playlists. I drive off the driveway accompanied by Halsey, lowly singing along. The engine roars, and now I'm fully on the road. With both of the front windows rolled down, my hair is dancing in the wind.

By the end of the song, I pull up to the Chateau.

JJ's already sitting on the stairs, kicking some rocks. His brows are knitted together, golden locks hidden under a hat. Somehow, he managed to pull an acceptable outfit. He doesn't notice me at first, so I make sure he hears a loud honk.

The boy jumps up, and I can't help but giggle. JJ rolls his eyes and gets up, dusting off his shorts. The honk must've alerted the rest of the Pogues because Kie appears from the inside. I wave at her, and her eyes are thin splits.

"Hi." She carefully greets me, as if she's scared I bite.

"Hey. Did John B. tell you...?" I lean out the window, my voice trailing off.

She nods in response, "We should be back before the sunset. I can, you know, explain more then."

I feel the tension fog up the string of friendship we had, but it's not broken - not yet. At least I hope so. Her lips form into a shy smile, and I answer with a bigger one. She nods and retreats back to the house, and I hear JJ, "Can I drive?"

"No? You'll probably drive us into some ditch."

He groans but walks up to the passenger side and pulls the door open. "I wouldn't," he mutters under his breath and climbs on the seat.

I roll my eyes and start the GPS. The road stretches ahead, bathed in the sharp golden sunlight. Tourons are already wandering towards the beach, dragging their oversized umbrellas and chairs.

Through the music, I catch the sound of JJ's sigh. I glance over to find him leaning back on the seat, staring out the window. He is... quiet. Too quiet.

I can feel it's just the silence before the storm. And, of course, I'm right.

After his fifth sigh—louder this time—I grit my teeth. The noise grates at me, like a broken record. By the time he lets out the next one, I shoot my head in his direction. "What?"

His brows dart up when his eyes meet mine. "Nothing."

"I can hear you sigh."

JJ rests his head on his hand, "I'm pretty sure that's called schizophrenia-"

We didn't even make it out the Outer Banks. I groan and make a sharp turn, sending him flying across his seat. When the car stops on the side of the road, he looks at me deer-eyed. "Are you mental?!"

I'm already jumping out of my seat and walking around to his door. "Get out."

"Gonna leave me here alone?"

If murder was legal, I know who'd be first on my list. A whine escapes my mouth. "I wish," He's parting his lips, ready to say something but I pull him out of the car, "You'll drive. If I would have to listen to you sigh like an angry kid for the entire trip..."

I see the blue eyes light up for a second. JJ quickly switches with me, now sitting behind the wheel and adjusting the seat. "Just don't crash. My dad got this car like, two weeks ago."

His shoulders are a bit more relaxed now, but he holds the wheel in a strong grip. A smirk appears on his lips, "Nothin' to worry about, princess."

I roll my eyes as he starts the engine again. This is gonna be a long ride.

𓆉 ⋆｡˚𓇼 ⋆｡˚𓆟

Two hours pass, and the sun is now high in the sky. We are only an hour away from Chesapeake. I feel the hot air even with the windows down. I notice JJ stirring in his seat, sweat creeping up on his neck. I fan my face with my hands before I say, "Let's try the AC."

JJ steals a quick glance at me, "Well, not stopping you."

I click one of the buttons, but nothing happens. I do it again, and again. Nothing. Just as I raise my hand for the fourth time, his fingers wrap around my wrist—warm and steady and not tight, just enough to stop me.

For a second, my brain freezes, like it's lagging. Then he lets go, fast, like touching me burned him. He leans back, his gaze returns to the road. "This way you'll only break it. Are all Kooks like that with basic car assets?"

I huff, "I don't even drive that much. Why would I get a whole ass car ready for a trip to the store that'll take me five minutes by my bike?"

He shakes his head, and when he speaks up again, his voice is laced with amusement, "Ever considered just trying a different one?"

I grimace at him and smash the other button. Just like magic, we both feel the breeze hit us. Despite that, my cheeks warm up, "Oh."

JJ's lips form a weird smirk—I can sense he's holding a laugh. "Don't-"

But with the shake of his shoulders, I know it's a little too late. "Real princess, huh?"

He grins like he's savoring my embarrassment and leans back. I turn to the window, focusing on the passing trees and the distant sight of the ocean, ignoring the way my cheeks warm again. It's just the heat. Definitely the heat.

#mayanneaa #jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj obx #outerbanks #jj maybank x reader #sarah cameron #john b routledge #obx 4 #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks

11 notes · View notes