#i have been laid out with a sprained ankle for weeks

[altaroftransexuality]

yo if anyone's got any album recs drop me an ask plz I have worn out my old albums and I need something to listen to

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 2 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

read part 1 here

wc: 3000

cw: mentions of food and alcohol! enemies to lovers! poorly researched medical information lmao i am a liberal arts girly i just need it for the plot. typical bau meddling, reader is lowkey a bully but dw bc hotch is still a little bitch, part 3 to come c: 

a/n big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics

You. 

With your red dress and your attitude, throwing back amaretto sours like they’re tequila shots - who gets drunk on amaretto sours? They’re basically safe to drink while pregnant. To be fair, you didn’t get sloppy, or even really that drunk. By the end of the night, your eyes appeared just a bit heavy, like someone had tied miniature weights to your eyelashes. 

Your eyelashes. Aaron had never found eyelashes, of all things, to be attractive, but here he is, in the middle of a work day with a report half-finished (and half-assed, at that), and he’s thinking about your eyelashes. 

He’s thought of basically every part of you already today. Your knees, your dress, what’s underneath it. You have been sucking him into a black hole all day long, and he’s to the point where he’s halfway wishing for a serial killer so he can focus on something else. 

He plows his hand through his dark hair, shaking off the overwhelming thoughts of you. He checks the silver Rolex on his wrist. It’s nearly time to leave. Aaron doesn’t usually do this, but he decides to leave this report for tomorrow, when he can look at the letters on the page and not see your face, hear your voice. 

Just as he starts packing up, there’s a knock on his open office door. Aaron’s dark eyes flicker up to see Garcia standing in the doorway, Morgan’s tall frame looming behind her. “Hotch, you got anything going on tonight?” 

Aaron shakes his head. For once, he actually doesn’t. “Jack’s at a sleepover,” he says. “What’s up?” 

“We’re taking Spence and Jacqueline to this nighttime vendor market thingy,” Penelope says, scrunching her nose up with a smile. “You remember Jacqueline?” 

It’s been a week since Derek’s birthday, when Jacqueline and Spencer were introduced. More relevantly, since Aaron laid eyes on you. “I remember.” 

“You wanna come with us?” Penelope asks with bright eyes. Aaron opens his mouth the decline almost immediately, but Penelope beats him to it. “Y/N’s not coming.” 

Aaron arches a brow. “What makes you think I care if Y/N’s coming or not?” he asks. 

“Oh, c’mon, Hotch,” Derek puts all his weight on the doorjamb. “We saw you staring at her at my birthday. It’s about time you moved on from Haley, any-”

“If I say I’ll come out, will you stop talking?” Aaron cuts him off, grabbing his briefcase. 

Derek ponders this for a second, even looks to Penelope as if to ask permission. He shrugs his shoulders in what Aaron suspects will be the first little white lie of the evening. “Yeah.” 

How anyone was able to sprain their ankle while shopping for books is beyond you. Leave it to Jacqueline, the wide-eyed, quirkily clumsy ingénue of her very own romantic comedy, to trip over a curb while gazing starry-eyed at the oh-so dreamy Dr. Reid. She called you from the emergency room with a shrill panic lining her voice, and you immediately leapt up from the couch. You didn’t even bother pausing your show on the TV, just slid some shoes on, grabbed your bag, and bolted out the door. 

You’re taking extra long strides, your flip-flops smacking obnoxiously against the linoleum tiles of the hospital floor. When you spot Jacqueline sitting up in the bed, still in her own clothes, you feel instant relief. At least she’s not panicking anymore. Spencer sits diligently by her side, fidgeting with the edges of the sheets. Jacqueline’s right leg is elevated atop several pillows, with a meek smile on her face once her eyes meet yours. 

“Spencer, you’re supposed to keep an eye on her at all times,” you joke with a weak laugh, sighing as you plop down in the empty chair beside Spencer’s. 

“She saw something shiny and wandered off,” Spencer shrugs, and Jacqueline glares at the both of you. 

“This whole talking about me like I’m not here, thing? Not my favorite,” she deadpans. There’s the Jacqueline you know and love. In crowded social settings, she can be reclusive and difficult to open up. But with only a few people around - especially people she’s comfortable around - Jacqueline is a completely different person. 

You’re glad she feels comfortable around Spencer after just a week of knowing him. They’re not even officially dating, per se, but tonight they went out with Penelope and Derek to test the waters. You think it’s cute - like two fifth-graders on a chaperoned outing to the movies, with their parents sitting a row behind them. 

You were invited to tag along, but you didn’t want to be the fifth wheel. You also were having a really long, insufferable week, and you simply needed some recharge time. So you politely declined. 

“Oh, shush, you’ve got bigger fish to fry,” you tell Jacqueline playfully, eyes darting down to her elevated foot. “So, what’s the damage?” 

“Sprained ankle, possibly fractured,” Spencer rattles off. “Usually an x-ray isn’t required, but since Jacqueline’s having pain in her malleolar zone - that is, the top part of the ankle that connects to the tibia - the doctor ordered one. We’re waiting on the results to come back, but I think they’ll just put her in a brace for a few weeks. Statistically speaking, only about 15% of sprained ankles result in significant bone fractures.” 

You release an awkward little chuckle, very nearly overwhelmed by the amount of information Spencer just dumped on you. Jacqueline shrugs her shoulders a little, like this is just how he is, and I love it. 

You blink a few times as you absorb all of Spencer’s ramblings. “So.. she’s gonna be fine?” 

“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Spencer cracks a smile, and his thumb brushes affectionately over the top of Jacqueline’s hand. Your friend blushes furiously, ever-so-clearly under the fluorescent lighting. 

“So what exactly happened?” You ask. 

Before either of them get to answer, imposing footsteps grow louder, and you hear a familiar voice say, “Okay, coffee acquired.”

Smooth like the neat whiskey he was throwing back the night you met him, Aaron’s voice drags down your spine. Your belly does acrobatic flips. You visibly tense up for a second before turning around to see Aaron with a cardboard drink carrier in his hand containing three to-go cups of coffee. 

“Oh, hi, Y/N. When did you get here?” Aaron’s voice goes flat, and he meets your eyes civilly. 

“While you were getting coffee, I presume,” you deadpan, and you swear you see one of those imposing brown eyes twitch. 

“Right,” Aaron hands Jacqueline her coffee, and then has to lean over you so he can give Spencer his. You catch whiffs of pine and espresso and dark leather. His chest is basically in your face for a solid three seconds. God, he’s broad. He’s also in a suit, save for the jacket and tie, and your eyes catch the crinkly lines in his white dress shirt, no longer crisp from being worn all day. They look like rivers on a map. “Well, I guess I’ll be going. Glad you’re okay, Jacqueline, that was quite the fall.” 

“Oh, no, Aaron, you don’t have to go!” Jacqueline pipes up, holding her coffee with two hands. “I mean, only if you need to, but, we’re still waiting for my X-ray to come back, and I know I’d love the company.” 

You look at Jacqueline with a bewildered expression. “I mean, I’d love the company of all of you,” Jacqueline corrects, her cheeks pinkening. 

You cross your ankles, suddenly aware that you’re in your loungewear - beige linen shorts and a blue Georgetown sweatshirt - and your hair sits in a haphazard knot on top of your head. You have to remind yourself that you don’t care. That Aaron Hotchner’s opinion of you does not matter. 

Aaron seems momentarily frozen in place, standing at the foot of Jacqueline’s bed. His eyes dart to you as if to silently ask permission to stay, and you give a subtle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shrug and tilt of your head. He inhales and you see his nostrils flare. He clears his throat and says, “Let me find a chair, then.” 

There’s something humorous about a man as tall and imposing and draconian as Aaron Hotchner looking for a chair in the emergency room bay of a hospital. Shoulders hunched so he doesn’t inconvenience anyone. You hope he feels embarrassed and humbled by the experience. A muted smirk rests upon your lips as you watch him most unhelpfully, not even bothering to move from your seat. 

Eventually he finds a free chair in the corner and drags it to the other side of Jacqueline’s bed, keeping a respectful distance. He looks across the bed at Spencer, who sits beside you. “Did you tell her that Garcia basically pushed Jacqueline over the curb?” 

Fluorescent lighting had never been so flattering before. Under its clarifying spotlight, Aaron gets to see details of you he’d missed at the bar where you first met. The texture of your skin, an extra little sliver of thigh from those linen shorts he wasn’t privy to before. 

And when he leaned over you to give Reid his coffee? He caught your intoxicating scent and now he fears it will either be stuck in his nostrils forever, or it will fade too quickly, before he can commit it to memory. 

“Penelope did what?” You’re asking, looking at Reid, then Jacqueline, brows creasing in the middle. 

Aaron folds his left leg atop his right, then nods with an amused smile. It’s clear you still don’t like him - might even hate him for how cold he was to you at the bar the other night. He can tell by the way you refuse to look at him unless absolutely necessary, how your jaw visibly tenses every time he addresses you directly. 

“I have no solid proof,” Aaron begins, offering the information as an olive branch. Your eyes snap to his and he’s jarred for a second, then he continues, the corners of his lips ticking up into an amused smile. “But one second, I see Garcia and Morgan at least three feet behind where Jacqueline’s walking, and the next thing I know, she’s on the ground and Garcia’s apologizing profusely.” 

“Why isn’t she here?” You laugh softly, and Aaron’s chest thrums. He can’t diagnose his reaction to it, but your laugh, no matter how strained and merely polite it might be at this moment, could be the thing that kills him. 

“Something about feeding JJ and Emily’s cat while they’re on vacation,” Jacqueline chimes in. Aaron clocks the younger woman’s eyes and how glued they are on Reid. She’s been so closed off every time Aaron’s around, so this tidbit of information coming from her surprises him. Aaron’s wondered this whole time if she truly likes Reid or if she’s just being kind. 

You nod in understanding and lean back in your chair. Little wisps of your hair fall into your eyes and you brush them back delicately with your index finger. 

Jacqueline pipes up again, her voice still timid and maybe a little tired. “Would you mind maybe getting me a snack?” She asks you. 

Aaron watches the softening of your expression as you look at Jacqueline fondly. You would do anything for her, and he can tell. “Of course,” you squeeze Jacqueline’s uninjured leg as you rise from your seat. 

“And maybe Aaron can go with you? Since Spence is pretty hungry, too, right, Spence?” Jacqueline proposes. 

Your soft expression twists into one of slight irritance. 

Aaron knows exactly what Jacqueline is up to, but it takes Reid a lingering moment to catch on. “What - oh, yeah, I’m starving,” the good doctor adds, even going to far as to pat his stomach, as if to say it’s hollow in there. 

Your eyes shrink in annoyance, and you seem to plaster a sickly sweet smile onto your lips, one that would make demons shake in their boots. You lock eyes with Aaron, as if to say, well? What’s it gonna be? 

Aaron asks Jacqueline and Reid what they want, then leads the way out of the ER and towards the cafeteria. The hospital’s signage is fairly easy to follow, and Aaron slows his usually long strides so you don’t have to struggle to keep up.

He gestures to your Georgetown sweatshirt. “You graduated from Georgetown?” He asks. 

“No, I just like to wear merchandise for schools I didn’t attend,” you deadpan, and there’s that goddamn attitude again. 

Aaron considers laying it all out - right here, right now. You’re not even thirty yet, from what Garcia’s told him. He shouldn’t be attracted to you, but he is, and god, is it killing him. Instead, he just furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything. 

“Yeah,” you soften a little, shoving your hands in the pockets of the sweatshirt. You seem to be cutting Aaron a little bit of slack, for whatever reason. “Yeah, I went to Georgetown.” 

Aaron holds the door open for you when you reach the cafeteria. You feel a little bad for your snarky comment in the hallway. You were not raised to be outwardly rude. You were raised to hoard your resentment like a precious flower, nursing it so it grows big and strong. 

“Jacqueline made it really sound like an emergency, huh?” Aaron asks, following you to the line. You shoot him a quizzical brow, and he gestures to your ensemble. 

“Oh, excuse me for not wearing an Armani suit to the hospital,” you roll your eyes, but they linger on the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “You just went out right after work, then? In your fancy suit?” 

Aaron smooths his fingertips over the white cotton. The color reminds you of freshly cleaned bedsheets. “Yeah, and it’s not Armani, for your information.” 

“Sorry, Mr. FBI. What is it, then, Dolce & Gabbana? Ralph Lauren?” 

“Tom Ford.” 

“Like that’s any less pretentious,” you scoff. 

“Hey, I can spend my money however I choose,” Aaron says, and you know he’s right. That doesn’t mean you’re not going to give him shit for it. 

“Must be nice to just burn cash,” you say dryly. “I’m sure your wife loves that.” 

“I don’t have a wife.” You look at him over your shoulder and his eye twitches a little when he says this. 

You’re not sure why you mention a wife anyway. Maybe you’re merely curious, but then again, you’ve already clocked that he’s not wearing a wedding ring. “Girlfriend, then,” you correct. “Do men your age call them girlfriends, or do you prefer the term mistress?” 

“Men my age?” Aaron laughs bitterly. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says. His voice is stringent, right on the line of annoyance. You smirk to yourself and grab a tray so you can carry the food. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t call her my mistress, because I don’t have a wife to cheat on with her.” 

“Bachelors in the 1800s called their girlfriends mistresses,” you point out, though your facts are coming from Bridgerton, so you’re not sure if they’re entirely accurate. “I don’t know how old-fashioned you are.” 

“I’m not,” Aaron says simply as you load an individual-size veggie pizza on your tray for Jacqueline, then grab a bag of chips and a soda for yourself. Aaron grabs the sandwich Spencer requested, and you lead the way to the checkout. 

The cafeteria worker punches in your items, and then Aaron’s. “Oh, we’re not together,” you correct politely. 

“It’s fine,” Aaron insists, pulling a silver AmEx out of his wallet. You reach for your own wallet to try and beat him, but he’s already swiped by the time you even get it out. 

You thank the cafeteria worker before gathering everything in your hands. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you and Aaron head out of the cafeteria. He holds the door open for you, again. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Aaron says as you walk through the open door. “Chivalry is still alive, as far as I’m concerned.” 

“Not old-fashioned, huh?” You smirk as you look up at him, feeling your cheeks redden a bit. Wait, when did this become playful jesting rather than straight-up bullying? 

“Maybe a little old-fashioned.” Aaron’s lips hint at a smile, and you feel your mouth go dry. 

“Shocking that you’re still on the market,” you say, admittedly because you’re curious about what Penelope said the other night at the bar. Something about Aaron going through a hard time. 

“My job requires a lot of my time,” Aaron explains. Your footsteps slow a little and he matches your pace. “Even if I found someone worth all the trouble, I don’t think I’d have the time to dedicate to a relationship.” 

“Worth all the trouble?” You repeat, a scoff lining your voice like a thousand tiny needles. Aaron resists the urge to visibly wince at your reaction. 

Why you’re prompting all this relationship discussion is beyond him. He’s a profiler, for Christ’s sake, but he can’t pin you down, for some reason. He lays the brickwork down and builds his walls up again. For a moment, back in the cafeteria, he was starting to let you in. 

But, no, it doesn’t matter how god-forsakenly adorable you are when you scrunch your nose or call him out on his bullshit. Aaron’s not ready for this kind of thing yet, so iciness is necessary. It protects him, it protects Jack, but - and, maybe most importantly - it protects you. 

You’re young and you’re willful. You’re a goddamn hurricane, a force to be reckoned with, but your stubbornness is a house of cards. Aaron Hotchner knows that if he hurts you, the cards will fall. And he could never forgive himself for something like that. 

So when you look at him for some kind of explanation, throwing him an arched brow and the opportunity to explain himself, he doesn’t take it. Instead, he watches as you pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, leaving a hell of a view and a frustrated, fully-grown man in your wake.

[pixiesfz]

do u have to kill me w the jessie angst

yes.

game on j.f

plot: You and Jessie play eachother for the first warnings: angst, injury part four of this

warnings: angst, injury

You were now lined up in your respective teams, ready to go on and take your team photo before the game started.

“you ready?” Lauren asked you as you were told you were going to play the full 90 “Yeah” you answered her as you tried to pull the memory of your conversation with Christine away.

“Do your thing, we haven’t had a gem like you come across us in a while” she smiled and you smiled back “Thanks Lozza” You rested your head on her shoulder, ignoring the feeling of someone watching you.

When the game was about to start you walked over to your position next to Jessie “Ready?” she asked you as she tied her laces which you predicted was about the third time that she retied them today “Yeah you?” you asked the girl nodded her head “yep”.

The conversation was cold, you both knew it but unbeknownst to you Jessie was angry.

She was pissed.

You told her you didn’t love her, broke her heart and now you wanted her again.

You confused her and now she’s angry.

She’s angry that you’re here. Why? Couldn’t you have just stayed in London?

But the siren played before she could accidentally snap by just looking at you.

You knew how Jessie played and used it to your advantage, leading you to assist a goal in the twelfth minute. But you didn’t know that Jessie would start to play dirty in the 85th minute.

You had the ball, dribbling it down the wing before a leg hit your right ankle from the side causing you to yelp out in pain and jump meaning when you landed, you landed hard on your side, knocking the wind out of you.

Jessie got up in shock “y/n?” she asked and you rolled on your side “Can’t breathe” you stuttered before your teammates ran to you, Lauren who had been subbed on pushed Jessie away as she turned her head to try and get a good look at you.

“Jessie just leave” Lauren eventually said with a stern look as the Canadian was backed into another one of her teammates.

It took a second for you to regain your breath as the medics came to check on your ankle. “Is it broken?” you asked, a tear falling down your face in fear that you would be out for weeks” The medic crossed his head and you sighed in relief “sprained but you can’t play” he instructed and you nodded in agreement “you couldn’t pressure yourself into getting even more injured.

“Help me” you instructed to two girls next to you who helped you up. “get better y/n” they all said as you started to walk off with a limp, some people in the crowd applauding you as you walked down the tunnel.

You watched on the TV in the doctors room as the Portland thorns gained a goal by Jessie but she didn’t celebrate as her teammates piled on top of her. Portland thorns win 2 – 1.

After the game some of your teammates came in to check on you, Lauren promising to get you Pizza as she walked out.

But as you laid down on the table, the ice pack on your foot almost melted completely the door opened again.

You propped up on your elbows to see the woman who put you here in the first place. Bitterly you frowned “congrats on the win” you deadpanned and laid back down.

“I didn’t mean to tackle you that hard” Jessie said and you rolled your eyes propping yourself back up “Jessie I’ve been watching you play for three years, you know how to tackle and you know how to tackle clean” you told her and she sat down on a chair near the door “I’m sorry” was all she said again before silence took over.

“Why’d you do it?”

Jessie looked at you as you staired up to the ceiling “what?” she asked “Why’d you tackle me so hard?” you asked again “I don’t know” she stated “yes you do” you told her before lifting your body up so you’re both forced to look at each other.

“I-“ she started, running her hand through her showered hair which was slicked back, a hairstyle you would always run your fingers through to make her feel better after a rough game.

“spit it out” you demanded and the girl looked down “Why are you being mean?” she asked defensively “Oh I’m sorry are you the one who’s out for 6 weeks” you responded outraged that she’d even turn the situation around.

“Oh because you’re so innocent” Jessie shrugged and you raised your brows “excuse me?”

“Oh c’mon” Jessie groaned “I heard you talking to Christine before the game” she said and you looked down.

Oh shit.

“What do you mean ask me on a date?” she asked with anger as she stood up in anger “Jessie” you said softly “no” she cut you off “you said you didn’t love me, you broke me why?” she said, her emotions spilling over as a tear fell down your cheek, but you were mad as well, she injured you.

You propelled yourself off the seat, whimpering as your foot hit the ground “Y/n your injured stop-“ she said softly as you limped to her “No, you wanna know why I did what I did” you said, stepping closer as she stayed still.

You took her silence as a yes.

“I loved you Jessie, I really did that’s why” you stated and you saw her eyes gloss over “That makes no sense” she whispered and you rolled your eyes “You were unhappy at Chelsea, you deserved more and if you didn’t leave I- I would’ve been holding you back so I lied. I told you I didn’t love you because I loved you so much to let you go” You finished as you squeezed your face in pain by putting pressure on your ankle.

“You got it now?”

Jessie looked down at the floor in silence, your anxiety taking over you. “Jessie please say something” you begged “Jessie please-“

But you were cut off as her lips found yours...

[hwa-stars]

Skirt lifter (Chapter 12)

Genre: High-school au, slow burning love, fluff, mention of mature language (+14)

Pairing: non idol Park Seonghwa x fem named reader

Summary: In which Park Seonghwa is accused of being a pervert.

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist: @dinossaurz @hecateslittlewitchling @babigriin (if anyone wants to be added, please comment)

I laid down on the grass groaning, not caring of the others look at me weirdly. I enjoy the sun and the quiet of the place for a moment, today was an exhausting morning.

"You look like you're about to die."

"That's because I am." I replied still laying on the grass.

Wooyoung sit next to me, he didn't said anything for a while just watching something from afar. I sit down and looked what he was was looking.

There was a basketball game and the players were Hongjoong, Seonghwa, San, Yunho and other people, Yeosang was cheering for them and I smiled internally he is so cute.

"You don't wanna play?" I asked after a while of being in silence.

"Nah, it's boring." He shook his head. "You should come to the party."

"If you're here by Seonghwa's request, you can tell him to go to..." Wooyoung laughed.

"I'm here on my own." He replied still laughing. "We'll be there too so it's gonna be fun."

"You and I have different meaning of having fun, besides I don't know the celebrant and I wasn't invited."

"That's why we're inviting you. So what do you say?"

"I don't know." I mumbled and he pouted.

"At least think about it, the party is next week so you have plenty of time."

☆☆☆☆☆

In our third day here, each team had the task to scout 20 pounds of fruits all over the area. Supposedly, this activity will challenge our abilities to work with what we have, for a moment it seems fair until San showed us the paper that he pulled out.

"How can you choose peanuts out of all the fruits here?" Hongjoong massage his nose bridge. "How unlucky are you San."

"Now we have to scrounge for fucking peanuts?" I frowned looking at the paper with 'peanuts' write in.

"I'm sorry." San mumbled sitting on the floor.

Hongjoong and I exchange glances, feeling a little guilty for what he said to San, it wasn't his fault it was just luck what paper you take so we can blame him.

20 minutes later

I'm carrying 20 pounds of peanuts after been digging through the dirt for an hour. I willed myself to the common room while struggling to lift the basket of fruit.

"Peanuts?" Seonghwa asked looking at my basket.

"Peanuts."

"I got watermelon."

"I hate San." I said feeling jealous that Seonghwa didn't have to go through dirt.

"As you should." He replied and natched the peanut basket. "Where are they, isn't it supposed to be a group task?"

"San slipped and sprained his ankle and Hongjoong took him to the infirmary."

"Well, that suck Pororo." He laughed.

"Don't you have anything better to do Seonghwa?" I rolled my eyes.

"What's better than annoying you?" He smiled and continued walking. "Have you changed your mind about been my date?"

"I have actually."

"And?"

"I realized that I haven't expressed how much I don't want to go with you." He leave the basket on a table.

"What can I do to change your mind Pororo?" He pouted at me.

"Open all of these peanuts." I signaled the basket.

"You promise?" He asked excitedly.

"Sure, while you're on it peel the skin of the peanuts too." I said sarcastically and leave the room.

☆☆☆☆☆

After confirm with the teacher that we had already complete our task, I paid a visit to San at the infirmary to deliver the news to him.

I thought that Seonghwa will come along, but after I leave him in the room he disappeared.

"Hey." I open the door and look a San, he looked like a sad kitty. "You good?"

"Yeah a little sore but thanks for asking." He mumbled sad.

"Don't worry, I finish the activity. You can call me a peanut Master now." San let out a cute laugh. "Where's Hongjoong?"

"He went informed the teacher about what happened. I'm sorry that you had to do the task alone." He mumbled playing with his fingers without looking at me.

"It's fine, seeing you fell down, was an entertaining thing." I teased him and he smiled.

"I'm gonna let that since I can see how you work hard based on the dirt in your nails." He pointed at my hands.

"Yeah, I have tried to remove it, but I couldn't."

Suddenly, San look though the drawer next to him, looking for something and he pulls out a needle.

"Hand." He signaled my hand.

"I'm not a dog." He laughed and take my hand. "Prick me and I'll give you a bruise worse that Seonghwa."

"Don't worry I got it." He replied and focused on his task.

"Wow, you're really good."

"I should be, my older sister makes me clean and painted her nails all the time."

That statement makes my heart warm, brothers helping their sisters doing stuff with her. The closest to a brother that I have is Jongho and he was way afar from that, the door open again making the both of us look.

"Hey, Minseo." Hongjoong greeted and some people were behind him.

Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang entered the room settled themselves around San's bed asking if he was feeling good and I smile of how they care for him.

"We appreciate you finishing up the task." Hongjoong mentioned "How can we repay you?"

"Forget it, it's done now."

"But..."

"Where's Seonghwa?" San asked

"He said he'll visit you later, he said he has something to do." Wooyoung answered.

"Doing what?" Yunho asked.

"I don't know, but he had a basket of peanuts with him and he was cracking them." The red hair boy explained confused.

I felt that it was my responsibility to look for Seonghwa and check why he was a real dummy for doing that stupid task that I told him.

"Leaving since Seonghwa isn't here?" Yeosang asked teasing me.

"Please, he's the last person I want to see." I lied looking at the room.

"You're a terrible liar like Seonghwa." San mentioned and shook his head.

"I'm not, I was just planning to take a shower."

"Sure." The five boys said nodding their heads.

"He's in our room, it's the room #10." Wooyoung mentioned and I just nodded.

I reached to the sleeping quarters, going to the boys floor were some guys approached and started whispering lookingbat me but I ignored and continued my way searching Seonghwa's room.

"Someone's gonna get some." A boy whispererd out loud so I can hear him and I just rolled my eyes.

Finally, I reached the room#10, I was about to knock when I noticed the door was cracked open.

I took a peek and saw the guy sitting on the floor with the basket of peanuts and some sheels of peanuts around him.

"Ah, the things I do for you Pororo." He sighed and shook his head and continued with his task.

I blushed at his words, my eyes shifted to the floor where the basket now was already halfway full with unpeeled peanuts. The guilty flooded at me. I knocked the door and entered the room and Seonghwa looked at me with shock.

"What the fuck are you doing Seonghwa?" I snapped at him.

"You have been asking me that lately." He laughed and Crack a peanut. "What are you doing here Pororo?"

"Stopping you."

"From?"

"This, quit it Seonghwa! I was joking." He sighed as he rested his back on a bed beside him.

"I figured out, but I just wanted to give it a shot." He took the basket of peanuts and patted the spot next to him. "Can get these to waste."

"Okey." I murmured and sit next to him.

"Do you hate me that much that the idea of going with me at a party upset you?" He took one peanut and eat it.

"I don't hate you." I said taking one too.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't belonged in your circle Seonghwa. Just asked other person to go with you."

"I told you, I don't want to go with someone else."

"Why?"

"If it's not already obvious Pororo , I..."

The door slammed open and Hongjoong, Yunho, Yeosang and Wooyoung fell on too each other and groaned from the door.

"San you're an idiot." Wooyoung hissed.

"Don't put it on me, I'm injured." He defend himself.

"Are those our peanuts?" Hongjoong asked looking at the basket and we nodded.

"What's up roomie?" Wooyoung put an arm on Seonghwa's shoulder smiling at him. "You're looking really handsome today." He patted his blonde hair and Seonghwa glare at him.

"What are we talking about?" San sit down on a bed.

"About how dumb you're for sprainning yourself." Seonghwa snapped and I stand up. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I'm not supposed to be here." I remind him, he tried to stand up but was held by Yunho and Yeosang.

"You're not going anywhere." Hongjoong held him too and they started discussing.

I walked out of the room walking down the hallway, when I stopped at the middle of the hallway and chewed my bottom lip.

I spun on my heels and started walking to room#10 again, and I knocked and waited for a response, hearing Wooyoung said 'come in' and I cracked open the door and peeked inside and the six boys turned to looked at me at the same time.

I'll regret for this later.

"Just wanted to ask if there's a theme for the party?"

Some days later

Finally we were going back to the city, I just wanted to take the bus and get out of this hell.

"I forgot to ask you, what made you change your mind?" Hongjoong whispered dramatically.

"Never think you'll be a gossip girl!"

"One of the buses has a flat tire, therefore the students of class will be evenly distributed to the other buses." The teacher announced.

When everything was settled and we where distributed, I settled myself on my seat next to the window, leaving my stuff in the free seat.

"Hello Pororo." Seonghwa smile as he lifted his suitcase and move my suitcase taking the seat next to me.

"What are you doing here?"

"Weren't you listening Pororo? There's a flat..."

"Yeah yeah I know, but where's San?"

"He took a car due to his injury." He replied and suddenly I want to had an ankle sprained. "So, whether you like it or not you're stuck with me for the next six hours."

He looked at me smiling and I just avoid his eyes looking by the window blushing when a flash greet us and see Hongjoong holding a camera.

"That's a cute photo." Hongjoong gushed before he showed us the picture.

"Why did you bring a camera with you?" I asked

"I was instructed to take some picture for the yearbook." He explained "Would you mind reviewing the pictures and check which ones are the best."

After hours of looking at Hongjoong's pictures I felt car sickness and gave the camera to Seonghwa so I can rest a little by looking at the window.

Seonghwa was so concentrated looking at the pictures, he bit his lip concentrating in every picture that he saw. Every time he found a picture he like, his eyes light up and seems that he was falling in love with every landscape picture that he saw.

"Are you checking me out Pororo?"

"Yes."

"And?" He rested the camera on his lap.

"You already know that you're handsome Seonghwa, my opinion of you doesn't matter."

[nobedofroses]

December 10th

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

warnings: fluff, v soft

words: 1.1k

a/n: this one was prompted by the lovely @terryboot (little reminder that holiday/winter blurb requests are open this month 👀) wherein you and Joel are domestic

more Joel, Full List

🌨️🌨️🌨️

In Jackson, there were very few chances for injury. Occasionally during patrols if people came across infected there could be injuries from the quick pursuit, from falling or pulling a muscle. No bites or scratches in a long time, luckily. And sometimes other jobs would cause minor injuries too: a burn while cooking, a bruise from an animal, etc. But mostly it was the kids getting little scrapes and bruises from playing, which was a comforting and happy thought, reminding all of you that had grown up before of what a childhood was supposed to be. 

Which was what made Joel so grumpy when he sprained his ankle and was laid up for at least two weeks, as per the medic’s orders. 

“It’s like I’m a fucking child,” he had complained when he was first told, making the medic laugh, a woman named Jackie that you had met before for help with a rash which had come from the goat milk’s soap. Apparently you were allergic. 

“Plenty of adults get sma— mild injuries as well,” Jackie replied, catching herself on the word, correctly guessing that Joel would not like the word, “small.” 

“Yeah? Do they get ‘em walking across the fucking sidewalk?” he muttered. 

“Maybe we’ll have to ask about putting out sand earlier this year,” you suggested. “Last year, things didn’t get this icy until around Christmas.” 

Joel had no reply to that, laying his head back on the pillows you had set up for him. You rolled your eyes fondly and shared a glance with Jackie. 

“I’ll leave you two to it, just remember the RICE method and you’ll be fine. I’ll be back in a week,” Jackie said and then you showed her out of the house. 

When you got back to the room, Joel was still laying back but his eyes were open and he was watching you. You went over to him and brushed his hair away from his eyes gently, “Do you want me to stay here while you’re healing?” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Joel said, and you were a little surprised it wasn’t an outright no. In the time that the two of you had been doing… whatever it was the two of you were doing, he had never come this close to admitting that he needed someone else’s help. 

You decided to push your luck a little, try to get him to admit that he did in fact want you to stay, “Well, you could just rely on Ellie’s help for everything, I guess.” 

Joel processed what that would mean, how much shit Ellie would give him for every little thing, and he shook his head once, saying in a quiet, slightly pleading, voice, “Stay.” 

Your chest grew warm at just the one word and you nodded, bending down to kiss his temple and tuck the blanket around him better. “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll go get something for dinner. I’ll have it ready by the time Ellie’s home and you’re awake.” 

___

About two hours later, Ellie came banging into the kitchen through the back door and you intercepted her. 

“Joel’s asleep on the couch, hun, can you stay in here until dinner’s ready?” you asked, finishing up the ham, cheese, and lettuce sandwiches you were making. If you were cooking at home instead of eating at the cantina, you made simple fare so as to not waste electricity or fuel. 

“No he’s not, what are you hiding?” Ellie asked with a laugh, heading towards the living room. 

You caught her gently around the arm and shushed her, “He is, you can look if you want, but be quiet please.” 

Ellie tiptoed exaggeratedly, but you could see the curiosity on her face. She returned ten seconds later with a straight face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, honey, nothing’s wrong,” you hurried to say, remembering that because of their history, the sight of Joel vulnerable must’ve been terrifying for her. “He sprained his ankle, so he just has to stay off of it and get rest.” 

“Sprained his ankle, huh?” Ellie asked, the grin on her face very close to evil. 

“C’mon, you can’t torture him. Well, not too much,” you amended when you saw the incredulous look on her face. “Besides, he sprained it when he was bringing me coffee this morning, so he was being sweet.” 

“Yeah, to you. I didn’t get any coffee,” Ellie pointed out, making it clear that him being sweet to you did not preclude him from any teasing on her end. “Anyway, I don’t know why you even go back to your place at night, you should just stay over. Not like I don’t know what you’re up to.” 

The tips of your ears grew hot as you turned from Ellie so she wouldn’t see your embarrassed face as you said, “If we’re too loud—” 

“No, I don’t hear you, thank fuck, I’m just not five years old. I know that you’re dating or whatever and I know what people do when they date or whatever.” 

You smiled at that, put at ease that if nothing else, you and Joel weren’t too loud when you had sex. “You know, if you ever want to talk about you dating or whatever, you can always talk to me. And then I can talk to him.” 

Ellie gave you a small smile and then grabbed a completed sandwich and an apple, mumbling, “Yeah, cool.” 

Happy with where this conversation ended up, you started to head into the living room to wake Joel when you remembered you hadn’t told her, “And actually, I’ll be staying here while Joel recuperates, so I hope you meant it when you said I should just stay here.” 

You heard Ellie’s little chuckle and quiet, “I did,” as you passed into the other room. Joel was awake on the couch, but looked freshly so, still blinking heavily, but he hummed when he saw you. 

“I take it the terror is back and— it’s time for dinner,” Joel mumbled, yawning halfway through. 

Smiling, you touched his cheek, rubbing your thumb over it gently and saying, “Yeah, but you can keep sleeping if you want to. Ellie and I can entertain ourselves.” 

“I don’t doubt that, but I doubt she can do so quietly enough for me to keep sleeping,” Joel said and you tilted your head in agreement. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to sit next to his hip on the edge of the couch, “You tell her you’re stayin’ for a while?” 

You nodded and tried to keep from smiling too wide, being too excited about her acceptance of you, “Yeah, she um, she seems kinda happy about it.” 

Joel’s mouth quirked up as he said, “Course she is. Anybody’d be happy to have you, sweetheart.” 

It was implied, not explicit, Joel’s sentiment, his own happiness at you staying at his place, playing some kind of house together with Ellie. But that’s all you needed, and this time you couldn’t help your grin.

🌨️🌨️🌨️

[rainisawriter]

Strange One – Takeshi (PSF #8)

Ficography

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Prompt: Rainy Day (@flufftober)

Word Count: 3,099

Pairing: Reader x Takeshi

World: High&Low

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You scratched your cheek as you stared at the paper in your hand, trying to decipher the map that Tettsu had drawn you. Honestly, you were pretty sure a toddler could have done better. He even used crayon to draw it, claiming he couldn’t find a pen.

You were already late to the meeting but it wasn’t your fault. No one could have deciphered the damn thing. Shaking your head, you tugged your phone out of your pocket to call up Dan and get proper directions.

“Shit,” you cursed, seeing the low battery warning flash across the screen. You tried to send a quick SOS text to him instead but the phone shut off before you could send it. “Could this week get any worse?”

It had been a rough one for sure. Your dad hadn’t been able to pay the bills so you were kicked out of the house, forcing you both to return to the Sword area to stay with your cousin, Tettsu, and his family. It had been a long time since you were back here so nothing felt familiar. The five gangs hadn’t existed back then, either.

The day you arrived, some thugs tried to mug your dad so you ended up getting into a fight and, though you did kick their asses, you got a knife wound for your trouble. Not only that, but your dad was struggling to find a new job after having been laid off. You couldn’t find one, either.

On the fourth day of being back, you nearly got run over by a car and then your dad fell down the stairs because he was drunk, breaking his arm in three places and spraining his ankle. You were beginning to think this damned place was cursed though, thinking about it, your life wasn’t much better back home either.

Thunder rumbled overhead, dark clouds filling the night sky. 

“Motherfu -“

With another clap of thunder, the sky opened up, sheets of freezing rain falling on you. You took off down the street, looking for some place you could duck under to escape the rain. You spied an open door up ahead and rushed inside without a second thought, running your hand through your hair before tugging off your hoodie. It had absorbed most of the rain, though your shirt was damp.

You loved the rain. To you, it was peaceful and relaxing, but you didn’t enjoy being caught in the rain. You hated the feeling of wearing wet clothes, the weight of them pushing down on you and rubbing against your skin. 

You glanced around the dark room. It appeared to be a small apartment, though it was run down and messy. A torn, dirty couch sat on one side with a small table on the opposite side. Directly to the right of the door was a small kitchen sitting in the corner, though it hardly looked functioning. The back wall was caved in, making it impossible to go farther.

A small round candle sat on the counter, half used up with a lighter sitting beside it. You glanced around for any sign of life and saw none, so you chose to light the candle. The room looked even worse with the candle illuminating it and you were fairly certain that it was not safe to be in.

Rain pounded against the side of the building with a metallic twang and the building shook when the thunder roared overhead.

You sighed, falling onto the couch only to wince as a spring jabbed into my ass. I shifted off it, wrinkling my nose at the layer of dust covering the orange sofa. Setting the candle on the makeshift coffee table, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, imagining all the ways you were gonna kill Tettsu when you got back home.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Oi, wake up!” A hand roughly shook your shoulder, knocking you from sleep.

“Fuck off, Tettsu,” you muttered tiredly. “Was having a great dream.

When you tried to roll over and go back to sleep, the hand shook your shoulder again.

“I said fu -” You turned to glare at your cousin, but it wasn’t him that was standing over you. You blinked a few times, glancing around the room. This was definitely not your bedroom. “The hell are you?”

He folded his arms over his chest, brown eyes narrowed at you. “That’s my question.”

“I asked first.”

“Hah?” He scoffed in disbelief. “Are you five?”

“No, I just live with one. Tends to rub off on you.” You sat up, yawning and stretching your arms over your head. Your back was killing you and your neck felt stiff. “Where am I?”

“Nameless Street.”

“Who the hell names something Nameless? That’s dumb.”

“Who are you?” He demanded, eyes scanning you for anything that could identify you or who you were with. “You don’t belong here.”

“No shit, sherlock.” You scoffed, pulling yourself to your feet as you eyed the guy in front of you. He was pretty damn cute, you couldn’t lie. “You can untwist your panties, I’m leaving.”

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who you are.”

You scoffed, flexing your hand. “Look, man, I’m sore, tired, and had a really shitty week. Get out of my way before I make you.”

The corner of his lips twitched up, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You can try, but you won’t get very far.”

You acted as if you were trying to step past him before throwing your fist at his face. He dodged, grabbing your wrist before kicking your foot back to make you lose your balance. You stumbled but stayed upright, dodging his foot when he tried to kick you in the ribs. The floor was covered in dust so both of you kept sliding across it as you exchanged blows.

You tried to use this to your advantage, throwing your weight against him. It worked, his back hitting the floor with a grunt. You rushed for the door but he grabbed your ankle, a cry leaving your lips as you fell forward, just barely able to place your fall with your arms.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, attempting to kick him in the balls but he dodged, pinning your legs beneath one knee, the other over your right arm, pinning it to the ground. You tried to punch him with your free hand but he grabbed it, pinning it beside your head as he hovered above you. Both of you were breathing heavily, glaring at each other.

“I’ve reconsidered,” you huffed, his grip like iron on your wrist. “I’ll tell you who I am if you get your fat ass off me.”

He scoffed. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I’m not a terrorist, man.”

“Huh?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“You’re not supposed to negotiate with terrorists, but I’m not a terrorist,” you grinned. “So negotiate with me.”

“You’re really strange.”

“Thanks. It’s my best quality.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I took it as one.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as if to rid himself of anything distracting him from his task. “Who do you work for?”

“No one. Actually, I’m looking for a job so if you know someone who’s hiring, can you -“

He pressed his knee harder against your arm, looking annoyed. “Stop playing games.”

“Ow, ow, ow! Okay, fucking hell!” You tried to pull your arm free but he was like an immovable object on top of you. It was then that you remembered the knife in your pocket. It would be hard to grab it but it was your only option. “I’ll tell you everything, just… get off me, please. You’re really hurting me, man.”

His eyes softened a bit, his bottom lip between his teeth as he considered the request. “Will you behave?”

“Scout’s honor.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he slowly removed his weight, standing up and extending his hand out to you. In the blink of an eye, you pulled out the blade and tried to stab his hand. He managed to pull back but the blade sliced across his palm, making him hiss in pain.

“I was never a scout, fuckface,” you scowled at him before taking off out of the house. It was late morning by this point, rain still falling from the cloud covered sky.

“Get back here!” His feet pounded the ground as he ran after you and you could hear feet running along the pipes above you.

You cursed, turning abruptly in an attempt to lose them. They continued to chase you, gaining on you, but they stopped abruptly when you darted through the gate of Nameless City, heading toward Sannoh. You glanced over your shoulder to see the brunette glaring at you, clutching his hand. A bunch of guys appeared around him, a redhead at his side.

You had no idea why they stopped pursuing you, but you took it as a win, grinning at him and flicking him off. He scowled, moving forward as if he were going to resume the chase and you took off, running until your legs turned to jelly.

You fell back against a building, sliding down to the ground with a groan. “I hate you so much, Tettsu.”

“I love you, too, cousin.”

Your head snapped up, seeing Tettsu and Chiharu standing in front of you, one grinning while the other looked concerned. You were filled with a sudden burst of energy as you jumped up, kicking him hard in the gut.

“Motherfucker, do you have any idea what I went through because of you, huh? You and your stupid dreams of being an artist!”

He scowled, dodging a second kick. “My dreams aren’t stupid! It’s not my fault you’re too dumb to read a map!”

“Hah?! No one could make sense of that shit! Come ‘ere and let me murder you!”

“No way in hell!”

Chiharu sighed as he watched you chasing your cousin, the two of you exchanging insults as you tried to injure him. Unfortunately for you, dodging was Tettsu’s special skill. He did feel a bit concerned about this, though, so he headed down the block to get Cobra. So far, the blonde was the only one capable of breaking the two or you up once you got started.

When Cobra finally arrived on the scene, you were sitting on your cousin’s back, securing him in a headlock as the two of you exchanged insults. The blonde sighed, smacking you lightly on the back of the head.

“Release him.”

“But -“

“Now.”

You scowled, squeezing him tighter before finally releasing your grip on him. You scooted back, sitting on the damp ground.

“You tried to kill me!” accused Tettsu, pointing his finger at you.

“You deserved it.”

Cobra folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me what happened.” 

“This idiot -“

“You’re an idiot, idiot!”

“- wanted me to help him set up the DTC hideout so, like the kind soul I am -“

“Kind, my ass!”

“Shut your face, no one is talking to you!”

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Enough.” Cobra’s eyes narrowed with warning at the two of you and you both huffed in annoyance. “Continue.”

“Like I was saying, I went there out of the kindness of my heart to help, but this idiot -“

Tettsu’s lips parted but Cobra sent him a warning look and he closed them again, pouting.

“- gave me a shittily drawn map so I got lost. Then it started pouring so I dipped into the first building I saw. Ended up falling asleep because I was bored and my phone was dead. I was woken up this morning by some rude guy demanding to know who I was. I tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me so, of course, I beat his ass.”

Tettsu scoffed. “Doubtful.”

“I beat yours, didn’t I?”

“You cheated!”

“All’s fair in love and war, bitch.”

Cobra’s brow furrowed, a feeling of dread settling in his gut. “Do you know who it was?”

“I never got his name,” you shrugged. “Oh, but I did slice his hand open in order to get away.”

“Do you know where you ended up?”

“Uh…” you scratched your cheek in thought before snapping your fingers. “Ah! He said Nameless Street which is a really dumb fucking name.”

Both men looked at you with wide eyes, their bodies tense.

“Y-You…” Tettsu stuttered. “You’re an actual dumbass!”

“Hah?! You wanna die?”

Cobra closed the distance, kneeling in front of you and taking you roughly by the shoulders. You were taken aback by the intensity in his eyes. “Are you sure he said Nameless Street?”

“Yes?”

“And what did he look like?”

“Uh… brown hair, brown eyes, green clothes.”

“Shit.”

“What?” You frowned, looking between the two of them as they exchanged a look.

Tettsu shook his head. “Good job, cousin. You’ve barely been here a week and you’ve already potentially started a war between two Sword groups.”

“Eh?” You blinked dumbly. 

“That guy was Takeshi. He’s the leader of the Rude Boys.”

You swallowed hard, heart dropping to your stomach. “Well, fuck me, I guess.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Do I have to do this?” You complained with a scowl, following Cobra toward Nameless City.

“Yes.”

“He’s going to kill me as soon as he sees me, you know that, right? You’re gonna be complacent in my murder.”

He sent you an exasperated look. “Takeshi is a reasonable guy who puts the Rude Boys first. He doesn’t want a war anymore than we do.”

“Oh yeah, so reasonable when he fought me and pinned me to the floor.”

“You threw the first punch.”

“You can’t prove that, Cobra.”

“You told me,” he sent you a deadpan look and you huffed.

The second the two of you entered Nameless City, you could feel eyes watching you though you saw no one around. You heard feet pounding on the pipes overhead yet no one was there when you glanced up.

A man jumped off the roof, landing in front of you. It was the redhead. “Cobra,” he greeted cautiously.

“P,” Cobra returned the greeting and you snorted at his name, earning a look from both males.

Recognition flashed through P’s eyes as he stepped closer. “You -“

Cobra stepped in front of you protectively. “We’re here to apologize to Takeshi.”

He considered this for a moment before nodding, sending you one last look before turning and leading the two of you farther into the city. He led you through a tall building, pulling back a plastic sheet to reveal a room resembling a living room. Takeshi was sitting on the couch looking exhausted.

Cobra stopped you in the doorway as P approached the brunette. “Please behave.”

“I always behave.”

He stared blankly at you and you frowned.

“Fine, I’ll behave.”

“No smart remarks. Just apologize for attacking him.”

“Fine.”

“This is important,” he stressed, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“I know,” you replied softly, catching Takeshi’s gaze when he glanced over at you.

Cobra led you farther into the room, greeting the younger male. “Takeshi.”

“Cobra,” he greeted back, but his eyes remained on you.

You glanced at his hand, the bandage dirty and caked with dried blood. When he noticed you staring at it, he folded his arms over his chest, hiding his hand from view.

“What can I do for you?”

Cobra nudged you in the ribs.

You cleared your throat, taking a step forward. “I… came to apologize.” You had to hold back your wince as the words dug into your pride. “I shouldn’t have attacked you.”

“What were you doing here?” His voice wasn’t as harsh as it had been during your last meeting and you took note of how tired he sounded.

“I, uh…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I got lost because my cousin sucks at giving directions. Then it started to rain so I ran to the first place I could find.”

He hummed thoughtfully, watching you closely. It felt invasive and it made you uncomfortable.

“Staring is rude- ow!”

Cobra smacked you upside the head, giving you a stern look.

“I was just stating a fact, chill the hell out,” you scowled, rubbing the spot he had hit.

The corner of Takeshi’s lips slid up, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did you not know where you were?”

“No. I’ve only been here a week, man, I don’t even know who you are.”

“A week?” He repeated in surprise, glancing at Cobra. “You don’t know about Sword?”

“It was explained in detail,” commented Cobra, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Clearly it went in one ear and out the other.”

“That’s not entirely true, I heard some of it,” you defended, snapping your fingers as you tried to recall the D gang. “Darna? Darulo? Dante? Da… Da something.”

The three men stared at you blankly.

“What? I’m trying, okay.”

“Daruma,” corrected Cobra.

“Oi, I was close! I should get points for that.”

Takeshi laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “You really are a strange one.”

“I know that’s not a compliment,” you scowled. To your surprise, though, he smiled.

“It is, actually.”

“Eh?”

“I’ll forgive you this time since you’re one of Cobra’s people, but don’t let it happen again. We don’t like outsiders in Nameless City.”

“Yeah… yeah, I understand.”

“Thank you,” Cobra nodded to him, patting your shoulder before turning and heading for the door where P was waiting.

You hesitated, though, a frown on your lips.

Takeshi cooked his head to the side. “Is there something else?”

“I’m sorry… about your hand.”

“It’ll heal.”

Swallowing your pride, you slowly approached him. “Give me your hand.”

He quirked a brow. “Why?”

“Don’t be a pain, just do it.”

He chuckled, holding out his uninjured hand. You set a ziplock bag in his hand, bandages and antibiotic ointment inside. He looked at you in surprise, lips parting.

“This should help,” you cut him off, bowing your head before rushing over to Cobra who was smiling at you proudly.

“Oi, strange one.”

You turned, barely reacting fast enough to catch the black mass he had tossed at you. It was the hoodie you had left behind, the cloth now dry. You caught his eye, a flutter in your stomach when he smiled at you.

You quickly turned your back to him, trying to hide your red face but Cobra saw it, a soft chuckle escaping him as he followed you from the building.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

[catsockpuppet]

Gothicpopcorn - Relationship Ramble

TWs: sex is mentioned, unhealthy relationships, uhh yeah.

before reading this, i recommend you check out my ethan lore masterpost for further context!

they/them for ethan, she/he/it for radford

First Meeting - ethan and radford met at a local park in the august of 2003 (they’re 18 and radford is 19). eth had been brought there by jaune for a Family Picnic, but she didn’t force eth to hang out. instead, ethan went to a more wooded part of the park in search of animal bones and other little trinkets. their search didn’t last long though, it was interrupted by a certain movie theater employee falling from the sky (a tree, technically). eth sat in the grass with him until it’s dad found the two and helped radford home (his ankle was sprained). they exchanged numbers.

after meeting for that first time, ethan and radford became decent friends. ethan wasn’t very open, they didn’t open up easily or express their interests and radford just straight up didn’t trust people so the two never got close. they barely knew eachother.

Hookup, The Catalyst - ethan had a gig in town, after which they and radford hooked up. this was kind of the catalyst for everything that happened afterwards. radford felt cared for, for once, even if she felt like ethan only cared for it’s body it was something.

they kept hooking up

“Dating” - they got together on february 15th, 2004. radford was desperate at this point, he wanted more, she wanted to feel loved, so she asked ethan out at 12:00 am (it took all of her courage to ask and he spent the entirety of valentines day hyping itself up). ethan agreed, but the two still weren’t close, it was awkward and messy, like living with a stranger.

it went on like this for a few years. radford was just using eth to fill a gap, and ethan knew that, they’d try to connect but eventually gave up

You Have A Sister? - in 2003, when ethan was 20 and radford 21 (yeah, they were really rocky for a While), was the first time ethan and radford actually got to know eachother. albeit a small amount. radford had ethan sleeping over when he woke up to them shufflinf around the room, they were climbing out the window. he sleepily followed, poking his head out as ethan climbed onto the roof. “what are you doing?” “stargazing.” “why?” ethan didn’t answer, which prompted radford to climb up with them. there was a flat section on the roof and radford laid against them once he was up there, it was cold.

for once, their touch felt warm. “there’s a meteor shower tonight,” “is that why you came out.?” “…i’m worried about morgana,” “who?” “my sister.” “w-you have a sister?” he pulled away from them, “since when?” “since 1997.” radford frowned. “sorry.”

after a moment he leaned back in, “tell me about her.”

it was the first time they really talked about something. the first time radford saw them.

the first time radford opened up was after a particularly shitty week at school, tons of exams and just the general stress of college made him exhausted. she went to ethan’s for the usual, it just wanted to feel something. but once she got there, he just, broke down. rad sobbed into eth as they simply held him until radford was so exhausted she fell asleep. ethan never pried or forced radford to talk about what was bugging her, but they did bring radford out to breakfast the next day and bought her a few little gifts at the mall (mostly comics).

by the time morgana was in the picture (2008) ethan and radford were still rocky, but started going to couple’s therapy for morgana’s sake. it took a while, but stuff worked out :)

[thelastofharrington]

the hard with the soft

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A/N: hello! this is my first joel fic that i've ever written! i'm really excited about it and made this whole blog just to post it lol. there is plenty of smut in this so mdni! let me know what you think :)

summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller was something that happened to you little by little, and then all at once. To say the chemistry was immediate would be a complete lie. At first, you couldn’t even tell if he wanted you around, let alone wanted you in his bed. No, when he rescued you that day from one of Bill’s well-laid traps, you were certain he would never see you as anything other than a nuisance. A pest he had to take care of. 

Oh how wrong you were.

tags: praise, porn with context, slow burn, mutual pining, joel is soft on the inside, reader is down bad fr, non-canonical, rip bill and frank, takes place a year/two years after the show starts, love in the midst of an apocalypse is beautiful y'all

word count: 7k

i hope you enjoy!!!

Part 1: The Stumble, 1 Year Ago

You were hungry. Starving, even. You had been left behind from your group of outcasts three days ago (or had it been four? You were too exhausted to keep track of the time) when you twisted your ankle and couldn’t keep up the pace. You weren’t overly friendly with your most recent pack of ragtag survivors, mostly seeing them and each other as a mere means of survival rather than company. You hadn’t known friendliness or love from your packs since your parents got bit five years ago. Your parents couldn’t have known that three years after they brought you into the world it would fall apart, nor did they know they would both die protecting you from that same world they blindly brought you into. It’s been hard, but you’ve made it through and it actually was your birthday this week, the big 24. What a way to celebrate – being abandoned by the only thing keeping you safe and becoming walking bait for any clickers nearby. But still, you had fairly good spirits all things considered. Until you fell into an eight foot hole. 

It was in this hole that you realized a couple of things:

You’ve stumbled upon a domesticated piece of land. Someone somewhere near had the time, safety, and resources to dig an eight foot hole. 

If your ankle wasn’t sprained before, it was definitely sprained now considering how you landed on it.

You might have just fallen into your grave.

It was a series of progressively worse realizations, to say the least. 

Time had already felt like a concept out of your grasp for the last 20 years, but now there was truly no way of knowing if you had been down there 20 minutes or two hours when a shadow was cast on you. A man-shaped shadow. A man-shaped shadow with a gun. 

The gun was pointed right at you, the sun casting a halo around this giant man’s head. He towered over you as he held his stance firm and still. No one said anything as you both stood, unwavering. 

“I come in peace?” You finally choke out, unsure of what you could possibly say to save your own life right now. 

He doesn’t move, just croaks “How’d you find this place?” You notice the fragments of a Southern accent, nearly lost to the wear and tear of an apocalypse. 

You clear your throat and try to muster up the courage to speak with conviction. “My group abandoned me when I twisted my ankle early this week. I’ve just been aimlessly wandering.” You pause, unsure of if the next sentence will be your last, “This ankle of mine really hurts by the way. Your hole here isn’t really helping, considering I landed on it.”

You see him move his head out from behind the gun and look down at you slightly, then he moves back to position. “Are you armed?”

“No, I’m barely legged.”

He does not laugh.

“That’s something we call a joke, you know, since I can barely walk and all.”

His weight shifts again and he finally puts down the gun. “I’m going to help you out, but after that you better see yourself out of here. I don’t want any more of this and I don’t want any of your friends wandering this way either.”

“I don’t have any friends. I don’t have any family. I’m just me.”

He scoffs, “Sure, kid.”

“I’m also not a kid. I’m 24 years old and I’m hungry and my ankle hurts and why do you even have this hole anyway?!” You notice yourself turning hysterical but you don’t even care. You’re unarmed and you’re hungry and you’re all alone for the first time in a very, very long time. This man holds all of the power to help you and you’re not going to give up until he does. 

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does it’s in the form of him reaching down into his utility belt and pulling out a rope, and throwing you the other end. “You get one meal.”

You didn’t even know a meal was on the table, so you hobbled your way behind him as fast as you could. You ended up at a white, well-kept house behind an industrial strength gate. “How the hell did you find this place?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making you worried that you said the wrong thing somehow. Finally, when you’ve reached the front door, he huffs “It belonged to a friend.”

================================================

Part 2: The Fall, 6 Months Ago

That one meal turned into two days which turned into a week which turned a month which turned into six. You owe most of your thanks to Joel’s 14-year-old companion (contraband?), Ellie. She was instrumental in convincing Joel to allow for you to stay. If it weren’t for her, the first dinner would have easily been your last. But she was so taken with you and excited to have another girl let alone someone under 30 hanging out with them. Not that she didn’t adore Joel, or him her in his own little ways. But you were just such a breath of fresh air to her that Joel couldn’t help but allow for you to stay. 

Your role in their little group wasn’t quite clear. Joel did all of the hunting and patrolling necessary to keep this little slice of paradise exactly that, paradise. Ellie’s only job was to stay safe, and you decided to pick up the slack wherever you could. Dishes, clothing repairs, cooking dinner. Ellie didn’t need a nanny by any means, but you basically became a live-in housewife. With none of the perks, despite your daydreaming.

The last six months had been tumultuous for you to say the least. The presence of Joel constantly by your side made a lot of things very difficult. Like focusing, or keeping the weakness out of your knees, or the heat out of your dreams. He was hot, there was no denying it. If he hadn’t been waving a gun in your face the moment you met, it probably wouldn’t have taken you until the end of your first dinner to realize this. But not only was he hot, he was stoic. He was still and firm, a guiding light in this uncertain world you and Ellie both came of age in. He had a cold exterior, but judging by the way he treated Ellie, and eventually you, you knew there was some warmth bubbling beneath the surface. You knew he carried immeasurable hurt on his back, Ellie had told you about his daughter, Tess, Bill and Frank, and that was only the things Ellie knew. Who knew what was in the even further past of this sturdy man. The big, beautiful, brooding man who took care of you and Ellie despite his best instincts. 

You had only very recently gotten over your sprained ankle, taking a full 12 weeks to heal from the severe sprain. This was another saving grace for you in the beginning. Joel liked to pretend that he was heartless, but he still didn’t have the heart to send you on your merry way with only ¼ of your appendages working to their full capacity. He tried to kick you out after your first dinner despite Ellie’s whining, only to be able to only stomach three of your hobbling paces out the door. 

“Oh for God’s sake get back in here why don’t ‘ya,” You remember him sighing.

He took such good care of your ankle, at night when you’re all alone you can still feel the way his calloused fingertips massing you so gently. The hard with the soft; the essence of Joel Miller. 

“Does this hurt?” He asked four weeks in, as you sat for your nightly ankle exam. Starting your very first night, after dinner he would take your foot into his lap and exam it and massage it carefully for upwards of 15 minutes. You weren’t a doctor, but you knew enough to know that a nightly exam was excessive and unnecessary. But even at the very beginning you knew this was his way of showing you that he cared, that he wanted you safe. It was around this time that you realized that Joel had a soft spot for stragglers, for the outcasts who just needed somebody. Between you and Ellie, that much was clear, and it just made you fall faster for him than you thought possible. 

This realization and the true weight of it didn’t come to a head until one day where you decided to go out and try and collect some berries from the woods on the other side of the gate for a pie you wanted to make Joel for his birthday. You had seen him do it a million times, you thought you could get away with it. Until you heard that sound. 

Everything was fine, you had collected your blueberries and you were on your way, and then you heard it. You hear it before you see it, but soon enough you see it all the same. You had your gun with you, but your reaction time was nowhere near as fast as Joel’s was. The clicker starts stalking your way when you lose yourself to your impulses and just start running. You know better than to scream, but you get close. You run and you run and you’re looking back to make sure you’re not going to get caught when you smack into something six foot and massive. Joel’s chest. After you make eye contact you look up and make eye contact with him. He’s silently fuming, fists white knuckling around his gun. 

You go to speak when he stops you, “Don’t.” He whispers right before he shoots the clicker dead with no hesitation or struggle. The walk back to the house is silent, and not because he’s afraid of being found by the clickers. 

The slam of the front door is the first sound you’ve heard in minutes. He whips around and you swear you can see smoke coming out of his ears. “What the hell was that?!”

“I-” You start.

“You know what? I don’t want to know. I can’t hear from you right now.”

You say nothing.

“That was so completely careless! Do you not understand how we do things around here? You stay, I go. It’s as simple as that.” He’s pacing at this point, waving his hands wildly as he works through his anger with you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You pause, “I thought you didn’t want to hear from me.”

He stops pacing and looks at you, “Ha ha ha very funny. You’re a real smartass, you know that? If I hadn’t been there God knows what would have happened. You could have gotten killed!”

You look down at your feet, trying to hold back tears before you look back up. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

He sighs, physically decompressing. “Well you went about it all the wrong way. I don’t need anything nice from you, you do enough around the house and with Ellie anyway,” He pauses, “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you had gotten hurt.” He says this last part in a whisper under his breath, barely able to look at you.

“But it’s your birthday!” You choke out a sob. You’re so mad at yourself for putting yourself in danger and upsetting the man who saved your life six months ago. 

“What? No it’s not.” He says, confused.

Then, a lightbulb goes off for both of you as your jaws drop and you yell in unison, “ELLIE!”

Turns out, Ellie just wanted some pie.

================================================

Part 3: The Catch, Present Day

A lot can change in six months. But also, a lot can stay the same. You’ve grown very accustomed to the life you live here, in this big beautiful house, with your small makeshift family. Ellie is 17 now and makes Joel take her on test drives in Bill’s old truck around town. Joel has definitely gotten used to having you around, and even converted Frank’s old studio into a bedroom for you a couple of months ago. A real upgrade from living on the couch for the first eight months. 

Life is pretty standard, all things considered. You’ve heard more stories about the men who ran the house before you and you think they’d be happy to have people like you living a life like this in the home they built together. It’s a beautiful thing, to have some normalcy in a world fallen apart. 

You spend a lot of time with Ellie, who has developed a crush on one of the QZ traders. She’s tall and lean and tougher than all hell, you can see what Ellie sees in her even if you’re personally afraid of her. This realization on Ellie’s part has prompted a lot of impromptu sleepovers in your art studio turned bedroom, almost all of which are ended by Joel standing in the doorway going on about keeping quiet out of respect for your elders. You have to remind him every time that you too are an elder.

It’s also the summer time which means there’s lots to do outside. You never really learned how to tend to a garden so Joel’s been teaching you how to take care of the one Frank started all those years ago. You two keep it up with the seeds you get from trading with those select few still at the QZ, and it’s been a really special time between the two of you. It also doesn’t hurt that he prefers to work in the garden shirtless. 

“Hello? Hello? Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” 

You snap out of the trance you were in from watching him hoe or row or whatever it is he’s doing with that gardening tool that makes his arms and back look like that. “What? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“You’re never going to learn if you keep daydreamin’ like that.” He gruffs before starting his spiel on strawberries all over again. 

You really can’t get a read on him. Sometimes he treats you as an equal, someone who has a shared interest in their work and in the safety of Ellie, but other times he treats you like you’re a toddler that can’t help but knock their head on the corner of a coffee table. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want you hurt, which you admit gives you butterflies, but if anything between you is ever going to transpire (like you desperately need it to), he can’t see you as just some kid. You’re turning 25 next week, dammit. You deserve some respect. But you’re just not sure how to get it, how to make him see you as a true equal. Someone he can rely on, put his faith into, and even care about on a deeper level. 

The opportunity of a lifetime presents itself one day in the form of something actually rather unfortunate. Joel finally gets hurt.

It’s a pretty normal day until then. You and Ellie practice driving, you journal, listen to some old records. It’s too hot to spend too much time outside, but you definitely make sure to check on the strawberries considering the lecture you got from Joel last week. It’s midafternoon when he comes straggling in, clutching his left arm in his hand and seething through the pain.

You immediately jump up from the couch, “Oh my God, what happened?”

He sinks down on the chair next to the piano, not looking at you. “Nothing, just go get the first aid kit.”

That answer is nowhere near good enough, but you go and get it anyway. Ellie is out in the backyard and doesn’t hear the commotion. When you return with the first aid kit you press on, “You have to tell me what happened so I can know how to treat you.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as you kneel in front of him, opening the kit. “It’s nothing, just gonna need a couple stitches.”

You pry his right hand off his arm and see a deep gash on the bottom of his forearm. It’s not too long, but it sure is deep. “Jesus Joel, what the hell happened?”

He shifts and sighs once more, whispering something under his breath that you can barely hear.

“What was that?” You ask earnestly.

He whispers again, slightly louder this time, but he’s talking too fast to make out what he said. 

“Joel, come on. What happened?” You’re tending to his wound now anyway, but you really do need to know. 

He sighs, bringing his free hand up to pinch between his eyes. Avoiding eye contact with you he finally says, “I was walking back from trading when I saw a flower. I wanted to get that flower for you for your birthday. With my shears in one hand, I leaned down to get it, and I lost my balance and I tripped and I fell on top of the shears and they stabbed me.” He pauses, “There,  you happy? Now that I’ve humiliated myself…” He trails off. 

You’re too stunned to speak. You just keep staring at him, unmoving.

“If you’re not going to fix this up, give me the kit so I can do it myself,” He huffs at you.

You swallow and smile at him, trying to find the words. “Joel Miller, you secret softie. You maimed yourself in the pursuit of trying to do something nice for me, the girl you claim not to want around.”

He locks eyes with you for the first time during this conversation, “I never claimed that.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment until you clear your throat and turn your attention to the wound at hand (or should you say, at arm?). “Let’s get this stitched up, ok?”

“If Ellie asks, tell her I did something super manly and tough to get these stitches, ok?”

You let out a laugh and nod, “Sir, yes sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been three days since Joel hurt himself trying to do something nice for you and it has not left your mind even for a moment. You’re laying in bed wide awake, tossing and turning wondering what this could mean. I never claimed that he said so earnestly to you. I never claimed that. The four words echo in your brain like a megaphone. It’s been torture being around him as if nothing has changed. As if you haven’t changed on a molecular level after those four words rearranged every fiber of your being. It may be nothing, but it also could be something. It could be the that takes what you’ve been craving for almost a year to leave your daydreams and become a reality. Maybe he meant it in a friendly way, maybe even in reference to your working relationship of raising Ellie and keeping her safe. But if that were the case, why did it feel like all of the air in the room stood still? Why did he look to you like he was a puzzle that only you could solve? 

Cordiality be damned, you had to know the answer. 

You sneak out of bed and up the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie in her room on the first floor. Joel may be modest, but he still took the primary bedroom upstairs when they moved in. You avoid the creaking steps up the stairs artfully and end up at his door. It is only at this point you realize how crazy this is. You’re standing outside his door in the middle of the night with no plan and, frankly, no pants on. This is a recipe for disaster that you’ve quickly talked yourself out of. You go to turn around when the door swings open, Joel looking alert. His body visibly relaxes when he sees that it’s just you, and then tenses once more as his eyes trail down our body to the long length of your bare legs. 

“What are you-” “Sorry I was just-” You say at the same time.

You laugh, trying to break the tension. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”

“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” His body was pressed up against the side of the doorway, blocking it almost entirely with his broad stature. Shoulders resting on the side of the doorway, arms and feet crossed, he looked in no hurry to get you out of there. 

“It doesn’t really matter, I answered my own question. I’ll just head back downstairs,” You go to walk away when he grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to face him.

“Must’ve been some curiosity if it’s keeping you up at night.” You’ve never heard him talk like this. Not just the words he was saying but how he was saying them, they were smooth and slow and rich like molasses. It instantly made your mouth dry up and your knees weaker.

“I um, I was just wondering-”

“Yes?” He prompted, his hand still on your arm. Had he ever touched you before this? Surely you would have remembered the heat. 

You look him in the eyes and see a glint, even in the darkness. This spark of something gives you the courage to move along. “I was just wondering what you meant by saying you never claimed you didn’t want me around.”

His hand drops from your arm and the heat is replaced by an instant rush of cold in his absence. He looks away from you and doesn’t speak. 

Fearing you said the wrong thing you cower and turn to walk away once more. How could you have been so stupid? This isn’t just a matter of personal politics, this is a matter of survival. You have no one besides Joel and Ellie and if you get kicked out for bringing feelings into what is a basic need for shelter, food, and water, you will never forgive yourself.

You’re almost to the stairs when you hear him rumble, “I just meant that I have always wanted you around.” You whip around and see him looking at you, his gaze trailing down your body and then all the way back up again. “I want you here. Always have.”

Not moving towards him you speak, “Then why do you act like I’m some sort of helpless child? Why do I not have any real responsibilities? I could be out there, with you, trading and gathering intel. But instead I get, what, strawberries?”

“You don’t get it.” He looks down and shakes his head.

You walk back over to him, softly, so as not to spook him again. “Then help me understand.”

He looks at you with a softer gaze this time, “I keep you here, away from all of that, because I can’t risk you getting hurt,” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “It would kill me.”

You’re stunned. “Joel,” You start before he lifts a hand and cuts you off. 

“And I give you things like strawberries because I want you to have a chance at a good life, a simple life. One I can’t promise you forever but can promise you for right now. One I know you don’t even remember having.”

Your heart is beating immeasurably fast inside your chest. You never considered that these menial tasks were actually normal, and good. Cleaning up after dinner, growing strawberries, talking about crushes with Ellie. In the midst of wanting to prove yourself, you completely forgot to take stock of all that Joel had given you already. All the things people dream about in this day and age. 

You reach a hand up to touch his face, “Thank you. Thank you for giving me something good,” You pause, “I wish I could give you something good in return.”

He leans his head into your hand and closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, “You are my something good,” he says so low you almost miss it. 

But you don’t miss it. You hear it loud and clear. You hear him loud and clear for probably the first time since you’ve met him. He is stoic and strong and brooding and brave, but he is also caring and thoughtful and safe. He is the hard with the soft, and he’s been giving you both all this time right under your nose. 

You decide to do something risky. You lean in for a kiss. You put your hopes for survival at the back of your mind and for the first time in forever you prioritize living.

It doesn’t take more than two seconds for Joel to pick up on what you’re doing and reciprocate. His arms immediately move from crossed over his chest to around your waist, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He pulls you so deep you cross the threshold of his bedroom, kicking the door shut on your way in. 

“Be quiet or you’ll wake Ellie!” You half scold, half giggle as you make your way towards the bed. 

“Sorry!” He giggles back. Joel Miller. The Joel Miller giggled into your lips. You could hardly believe your ears. 

If his words were like molasses, his kiss was just as sweet. Not too pushy, but with enough force to let you know that he was in charge. He guides you to the mattress with his body and his mouth, making you feel like you’re flying. You’re sprawled out with your legs over the edge of the bed when he finally pulls away and stands before you. 

You look up at him with hooded eyes and heavy breaths, “Why’d you stop?”

He runs his hands through his hair, “I just never want to forget this.” And he dives back down to you, not giving you a moment to respond. 

When he comes back his kiss is still sweet, but with a heat you’ve never experienced before. Granted, all of your past experiences were minimal, probably in the back of an abandoned, decaying car, and in the midst of an apocalypse, but you knew enough to know that it didn’t normally feel like this. 

You part your legs so he can insert his body between them, propping his arms on either side of your head as he kisses you deeply. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you, needing as much of him on you as possible. 

“Somebody’s eager, huh?” He asks you between kisses.

Your resolve is officially broken, you’re laying it all out on the table. “You just have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

He pulls back to look at you, “Oh, I think I have an idea. You tend to have a staring problem, darlin’”

Your face flushes instantly. He lowers his lips to your ears and whispers, “I do too, I’m just a little more subtle with it.” He places kisses on your neck and then trails back up to your ear, “Your body drives me crazy, baby.”

Suddenly his hands are everywhere. One is up by your head so he keeps his balance while the other is trailing up and down your chest, your stomach, your neck. He’s everywhere all at once and it still isn’t enough. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist so you buck up to create even more friction than there already was. 

“Easy there, baby, I’ve been waiting an awful long time for this, I want to take it slow with you. Gotta treat you right.” He pins your waist down to the mattress with one hand. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His look is so sincere all you can do is nod. “Good girl.” 

With that, he takes his hand pinning you down and runs the tips of his fingertips along the waistline of your underwear, teasing you. You whine.

“Patience baby,” A kiss on the cheek, “It will be worth it, I promise,” A kiss on the other cheek. Then his fingers are tugging them down inch by inch until you’re completely bare to him from the waist down. “So pretty,” He says, almost to himself. 

Before you have time to acknowledge what he’s said, the same gentle fingertips that were teasing you a moment ago land on your most sensitive spot, creating a feeling of pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. Your body somehow tenses and melts into the mattress at once as he works you slowly but surely. 

“How does that feel, baby?” His voice is rough around the edges but soft at its center, he genuinely wants to gauge your reaction, as if your whines and body language weren’t enough. 

“Itfeelssogood” You slur out, hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. 

He kisses your neck, “Good. Now,” He moves his finger to your center and thrusts it in, moving his thumb back to your clit. “How does that feel?”

He’s working you up so good, you feel like you’re floating. His pace is the perfect mix between rough and conscious, never taking his eyes off you for even a second. You can tell he’s loving this as much as you are, and not just because you can feel his erection through his boxers. 

You moan as he works you before answering, “Joel it feels so good.”

“Such a good girl for me, so wet and ready. Is this what you were thinking about when you couldn’t sleep?” He whispers in your ear as he picks up the pace. 

You can feel something building deep inside of you, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and never at this magnitude. It’s coming on strong and fast, you can almost reach it. “Yes, this is what I was thinking about. I was thinking about your hands on me.”

“Mmmm that’s what I like to hear baby, what else were you thinking about?” He grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boxers, “Were you thinking about this?”

You moan and nod your head, he’s continuing to pick up his pace and you’re getting closer and closer. 

“I want you to cum for me, gorgeous. Please cum for me.”

You throw your head back and moan again, “I want to cum for you.”

“Just focus on how good it feels baby, you’re so close I can feel it. Be a good girl for me.”

And just like magic, you’re there. It hits you like a freight train and your whole body is consumed. You’re tensing and writhing and it definitely isn’t normally like this, but you’re just so overcome with emotions for this man and pleasure and all of the things that drive a girl crazy. 

He coaxes you through it with lots of reassurances and hair pets, and then finally you’ve come down. “Thank you,” You say as he brushes some hair out of your face.

“Don’t thank me yet darlin’, I’m not done with you yet.” And with that, he hauls your body up to the head of the bed, making sure your head is all settled on the pillows. He sits back on his knees and takes off his shirt, nodding at you to do  the same. You’re left completely bare and he in his boxers alone. You’re mesmerized by his body. Age normally should have broken him down, but for him he seems to have only been built up. You had seen him in the garden but this, this was something entirely different. He was raw here, with you. 

“This is what I meant by you needing to be more subtle. You don’t need to undress me with your eyes, baby, you just gotta ask.” He stands up and drops his boxers, revealing himself to you fully for the first time. He’s big. Like, real big. And thick. You don’t let yourself dwell on the mechanics for more than a moment, but you do wonder how it’s going to fit.

He gets back in bed and hovers over you once more, “Are you sure about this? We can stop at any time.”

You nod your head, “I’m sure. Never been more sure about anything, actually.”

He gives you one more kiss, a firm one with the promise of a good time. You run your fingers through his hair and tug slightly. He moans into your mouth. “You sure are an eager one, aren’tcha?”

He grabs his member and lines it up with your center, teasing you slightly. You wince at the sensitivity from your previous orgasm. “You ok?” He asks gently.

“Yeah, just a little sensitive. But I’m ready. Please fuck me, Joel.” The words even surprise yourself as you say them. You’re not the best at being direct about what you want, but right now all you can do is rely on pure instinct. 

He chuckles darkly before lining himself up once again, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he’s fucking you. Long, hard strokes that never feel like too much too fast. Just right. You feel the fullness of him immediately and it’s so divine you can’t help but arch into him and moan. Your fingers fly back into his hair as he thrusts into you with such precision, he hits your G-spot every time.

“Is that good for you, baby? Tell me how it feels.” He grunts as he pounds into you expertly.

“I love it, baby. I love it,” You’re breathless as you try to find the words to describe the way he’s making you feel.

He takes one of your legs and rests your ankle on his shoulder, opening you up even more than you thought possible and deepening the angle of his already deep thrusts. You try not to scream, so you grab a pillow and put it over your face.

He rips it off almost immediately, “Oh no, sweetheart. No hiding from me. I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.” 

You’re so incoherent you can’t even respond to his filthy words. You just moan in response and grab the sheets on either side of you.

He changes his pace a couple of times, switching from slow and long to fast and shallow, but it never feels out of place or off rhythm. He is just somehow so in tune with your body that he knows exactly what you need when you need it. 

You’re whining and moaning when he lowers your leg and gets his face up next to yours. His hand moves down to  your clit and he starts massaging it while he continues to thrust into you. “You’ve been such a good girl tonight baby,” He says through his own labored breathing. “Coming up here in your little panties practically begging to get fucked. Such a good girl.” You moan so loud he covers your mouth with his other hand, “I love hearing those moans baby but you gotta keep it quiet if you want me to keep going. And I know you want me to keep going.” 

You nod and he removes his hand from your mouth and sits back again, watching you from above. “Play with your tits while I make you cum.” You do as you're told, loving the feeling of his eyes fixed on you while you do exactly what he says. 

Once again, you feel something building inside of you. The combination of him inside you, his fingers working their magic, and his eyes on you makes it nearly impossible to resist the feelings as they come on strong. 

“I’m gonna cum,” You whine. 

“Do it baby, cum for me” He picks up his pace and you can tell he’s getting close himself, can tell he’s chasing something. 

It only takes a couple more seconds before you finish in an explosion of pleasure. You’re so out of it as you come down you barely register him pulling out and grabbing a tissue from the side table. What a gentleman. 

You’re both laying there in silence when the gravity of what just happened finally hits you. You just had sex with the one person that stands between you and certain death. This could ruin everything. You move to get up and go back to your room when you feel an arm on you, pulling you back down. 

“Stay,” He pauses, “Please stay with me.”

You smile softly at him and lay back down, but this time he wraps you up in his arms and spoons you. You can feel his breathing on the back of your neck and his calluses on your arms as he holds you. He starts tracing little circles on your skin with his thumb while he hums. 

“That was amazing,” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um, sorry if I came on too strong,” He pauses, “Haven’t done that in awhile.”

You turn around to face him and you rest a palm on his cheek, “It was perfect. You were perfect. I um, I just hope this doesn’t change anything?” You nervously finish.

He looks startled. He quits rubbing circles on your skin and moves back. “Yeah, no. No, it doesn't have to change anything.”

Clearly, you’ve struck a chord and you don’t know why or how. But you do know that you need to fix it. 

“I just, I know we’re in a precarious situation and I don’t want you to feel like our relationship has changed at all.” You begin.

He sits up fully with his back against the headboard, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Joel?” You join him up against the headboard, covering yourself with the blanket.

He sighs but doesn’t look at you, “If I had thought everything would stay the same I wouldn’t have done what I just did. I wouldn’t have opened the door and I certainly wouldn’t have let you in.”

You’re stunned and you’re scared, having no idea what he’s talking about. “What are you saying?”

Finally, he looks at you. “Dammit Y/N what if I want things to change?” He doesn’t raise his voice at all, but his tone is stern enough to send you aback. 

“What?”

Another sigh, “What if I want things to change? What if I want somebody who is going to be there for me at the end of the day in my bed? This world isn’t permanent and I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now. For now, I want this. For now, I want you. And I’m gonna keep wanting you until the thing that stands in the way of me and death itself disappears.” He pauses, “So yeah, maybe you don’t want things to change but I do. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” He looks away from you again. 

“Joel, I-”

“I don’t want your pity. I get it, I’m just some old man with a 17 year old basket case trailing behind me and you’re young and beautiful and just had an itch to scratch. We’ll continue with business as usual in the morning. Good night.” He flips over onto his side away from you. 

You huff. This is ridiculous, you think to yourself. You tap him on the shoulder.

“You should probably go back to your room, Y/N.”

You tap him on the shoulder again. 

He flips around to look at you, “What more could you possibly want from me?”

You cross your arms over your blanket covered chest, “What makes you think I wanted things to stay the same?”

“Gee, I don’t know, probably the part where you said ‘things don’t have to change’?” He says sarcastically as he sits back up to face you. “Wonder where I got that crazy idea.”

“I was just saying that in case you didn’t want anything to change! I’m totally at your mercy with everything, including my survival here, so sorry for being cautious.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his mouth does fall open in shock a little bit. 

“Joel, trust me when I say I’m not taking pity on you when I say I want this too. I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now, and for tomorrow, and for the next day and the day after that. I choose you and I choose Ellie and I want this. I want you. I want to be the one that is there for you at the end of the day.” You smile at him and grab his hand, “You’re my good thing too.”

His face softens and he grabs your joined hands with his other one and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. You lean into it and giggle as he begins peppering a bunch of kisses all over your face. The hard with the soft, that’s Joel Miller.

“Let’s go to bed, shall we?” You ask him as he leans over you, caressing your face.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” He gives you one last kiss on the cheek and spoons you once more.

That night you dream of strawberries. Just fields and fields of strawberries. 

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

Left for Dead

This actually takes place some time before Day 10 Passing out from Pain. How much time? Idk, I'm making this up as I go along. At least a week, probably.

Virgil tried to breath as quietly and calmly as he could as he laid in the underbrush his group had left him in. His ankle throbbed miserably and if he hadn't been so terrified of being noticed, he might have been tempted to flex the joint just to make sure he could.

He tried not to react at the dragging and shambling noises of the creatures that walked around him, terrified as he was, unsure just how good their senses were.

Admittedly, he didn't know a lot about zombies. Every portrayal of them in media seemed to be different and this was real life. There was no reason that they should have to abide by any rules laid out in fiction. Granted, if they were just somehow reanimated corpses then theoretically their senses were probably pretty terrible considering they were actively decomposing. But then again, they if they were reanimated corpses, then there was no reason for them to follow any sort of logic and the state of decay might not affect them at all.

If anything, though, Virgil hoped the smell of their own rotting flesh prevented them from picking up on his scent.

He kept his head low, waiting for the noises around him to pass.

He waited till several minutes of silence had passed before risking a glance up. He was completely alone among the trees with dusk falling around him.

He laid there another minute, debating if he should try to stand and head toward the usual rendezvous point. He tried to flex his ankle and it sent a shock of pain all the way up his leg and dropped his head back into the dirt with a groan. Unless he could figure out how to get back without moving or putting weight on that ankle, he wasn't going anywhere.

He forced himself to take a breath. They'd come back for him, he tried to assure himself. Ian had said they would. Ian had said-

Virgil froze, his whole body tensing as he pulled up the memory. He remembered running, limping already from spraining his ankle a few weeks ago. He remembered tripping, screaming as he hit the ground. He heard Ian shouting at him to stay down, stay hidden, that they would draw the monsters away and come back for him.

"Leave him!" The distant voice had called out. "He's just a liability."

Virgil had been too afraid at the time to process what was going on around him, now in the quiet and darkening woods, he realized what had happened. He'd been left for dead by those he'd spent months with, working together with to try to stay alive. Those he'd insisted on helping, going back and saving them, sacrificing his own needs to help them, had left him behind.

He laid in the dirt and cried.

Cried in fear and in heartbreak. His once family had left him to be eaten by alive by the monsters he'd fought to protect them from or to die slowly from injuries that left him nearly helpless to defend himself.

He cried till he fell asleep from the exhaustion of it all, and just hoped he wouldn't wake to see his own death.

---

Virgil woke up screaming as a rotting corpse fell on his back.

He screamed and thrashed, trying to get away from the monster, his injuries screaming back at him for daring to move at all.

He managed to get out from under the once again dead zombie and managed to sit up. A small group of young men were running at him, apparently perusing an equally small group of zombies.

"Go, go, go!" One of the strangers shouted. Virgil scrambled to his feet and immediately collapsed, crying out in pain as soon as he tried to put weight on his foot.

"Hang on!" Another voice shouted and Virgil found himself being plucked off the ground. "Roman!"

Another man, nearly identical to the first, appeared at his other side, ducking under his arm.

"Hang on, we're gonna get you out of here," he promised. "Do you have any open wounds?"

Virgil shook his head. "My ankle's jacked up."

"We'll get you safe, just hang on."

---

"What is this place?" Virgil asked as he was lowered into a wheelchair.

"We call it Ground Negative One. It's supposed to be a pun, y'know, like Ground Zero is where shit hit the fan? We're working on stopping it, so-" He waved vaguely. "It made more sense in my head, but it kinda stuck. I'm Remus, by the way. That’s my brother Roman, his partner, Emile and that's Remy and Patton."

"I'm Virgil."

"We've got a medic here, he can take a look at your ankle and see what's going on," Remus offered, not bothering to leave time for pleasantries.

"I'd really appreciate that."

"How'd you end up out there like that?" Remus asked and walked next to Virgil as Roman pushed him down the corridor.

"My, uh...team, left me behind last night. I'd already injured my ankle and when I fell last night... No one ever came back for me."

"Some team," Remus snorted. "Don't worry about it, we'll get you taken care of. You can stay as long as you need."

---

"The good news is, it's not broken," Logan announced. "The bad news is that it is dislocated. I can get it back into place, but...we may need to consider surgery because of the previous damage to the joint with the prior sprain."

Virgil went pale. "Isn't that, like, super risky?"

"It's more of a risk now than it would have been a few years ago, but that's mostly because of the general state of things. The surgery itself is fairly low risk. With the security we have here, I don't foresee it being an issue. Even if it were, we’d still have to weigh the risk of losing mobility in that joint entirely vs the recovery time and infection risk. We still don't know that the surgery is necessary. I'm going to get your ankle back in joint and we'll treat it for the dislocation and sprain and see how it heals. I'm just letting you know about the possibility of needing surgery so you're not blindsided by it later, alright?"

Virgil nodded. "Alright, let's get this over with."

"Remus is going to help, okay? Go ahead and lie back." Logan popped open the door. "Remus, Emile, can I get your assistance?"

"What do you need?" Remus asked.

"Emile, take his hand and make sure he doesn't move."

Virgil rubbed his face. "Ohhh this is gonna suck."

"Briefly," Logan agreed. "Remus, take his leg and hold it taunt." Logan stood facing Virgil and took the twisted foot in both hands. "Deep breath and let it out." On the exhale Logan swiftly pulled the foot back and turned it back into place. "We're done!" He announced at Virgil screamed into his teeth, trying his hardest not to move. "We're done that's it."

"I really appreciate you guys, but also I kinda wanna punch you in the face oh my god!"

Emile nodded sagely. "He did my shoulder a few weeks ago and I felt the same way."

[pttwice]

can i request jihyo getting a workout injury (like a sprain) and the next day she regresses, she's very sensitive because she doesn't handle injuries well especially since she's regressed to toddler age so cg!jeongsa take really good care of her because they don't like seeing little hyo in pain and miserable

hi anon :) i know jeong & sana would be the perfect ones to take care of little!hyo. they’d be so attentive and sweet!

ice packs and kisses

|| little!jihyo, cg!jeongyeon, cg!sana ||

Jihyo had her whole day planned out. After she finished her workout, she’d grab a quick lunch, do the laundry, talk to her manager about her upcoming schedule, and then make dinner. It was going to be busy, but there was nothing more that Jihyo liked than being busy.

Jihyo just had a half mile left to run on the treadmill and she would be done with her workout. Just as she was about to turn the speed up a little to finish faster, her foot slipped, causing her to roll her ankle. Thankfully, she caught herself in time to turn the treadmill off.

Jihyo hopped off on her non-injured leg and sat down, groaning in pain. “No no no! I have too much to do today!” She clutched her ankle for a few seconds before she realized that it wasn’t going to get any better. Quickly, she called her manager to pick her up and take her to the hospital.

//

“I’m sorry, Miss Park but it looks like you’ve twisted your ankle. You’ll need to keep it elevated and ice it for three weeks. You won’t be able to walk on it so I’m going to provide you with a pair of crutches. I’ve prescribed you a stronger pain medication in case you need it, but you should be okay with just Advil or ibuprofen.”

Jihyo sighed and thanked the doctor. Out of all the times she could have gotten an injury, why did it have to be today? Three weeks?! She was going to go crazy not being able to walk on her leg for three weeks.

As soon as Jihyo got home from the hospital, she hobbled her way over to the couch and laid down, resting her injured ankle on a few pillows. She somehow managed to do a load of laundry and took the call with her manager from home, but her schedule had been drastically changed since she was very limited in what she could do for a while.

Jihyo decided that the best thing she could do was to just order takeout, watch a drama, and try not to think about how bored and in pain she was going to be for the next few weeks.

//

The sun was beating into Jihyo's bedroom. She slowly opened her eyes and rolled over, checking the time on her phone. It was only 9 in the morning but Jihyo felt like the sun was going to roast her alive. Now that she thought of it, her room was too hot, she had a headache, and her ankle hurt so much more than last night when she went to bed.

Jihyo sat up and crawled out of bed, slowly making her way on her crutches to the bathroom. She took a few ibuprofen before she went to the closet, picking out a comfortable shirt and pair of pants so she could at least try to feel productive. She was able to get one leg in but the second she tried to get her injured leg in, she was frustrated and couldn't get it in the pant leg without it hurting her ankle.

She could feel it the second she woke up but the longer she wrestled with her pants, the more frustrated she was getting and the fuzzier her head got. Jihyo tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down since she still had a schedule to get to today, but the more she tried to breathe, the more she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Jihyo got out of the closet, her pants abandoned on the floor as she called the only people she knew who would be able to help her. Maybe she could finally get her pants on and get on with her day.

//

"Jihyo? Sana and I are here." Jeongyeon called out from the living room. She set her bag down and looked in the fridge, getting a bottle of water.

"I-in the bedroom." Sana looked down the hallway. It was odd. Jihyo's voice sounded so tiny and quiet. Maybe it was just because she was further in the apartment.

Jeongyeon walked down the hallway with Sana. When they got to Jihyo's bedroom, they found the girl sitting on the floor of her closet. A pair of pants was laying beside her as she had her hands covering her face. Small sobs were coming from her, not noticing that Jeongyeon and Sana had walked in.

"Hey, Ji. Are you okay?"

Jihyo looked up at the sound of Sana's voice. Her lip quivered as her tears stopped for a second before she reached her hands up. Now that she saw her mommy and mama, all she wanted was to be held by them. Jihyo didn't handle injuries well in the first place but now that she had regressed, she really had no idea what to do with all these big feelings that were making her feel icky.

"M-mommy. Ouchie. Hyo no feel good."

Sana picked the little up in her arms, gently moving her to her bed. "Is it your ankle that hurts, pumpkin?" Jeongyeon knelt down by the bed and looked at Jihyo's ankle, noticing that it had swelled a bit.

Jihyo nodded and pointed to her body. "Hyo ouchie."

"Is it everywhere, sweet girl?" Sana gave Jihyo a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. Jihyo nodded and tucked her face into Sana's neck, a small whine leaving her.

"I'm sorry, Hyo but mama and I are here to make you feel all better. We'll take care of you, pumpkin." Jeongyeon gave Jihyo a few kisses on the cheek before she picked out some more comfortable clothes.

//

It took a bit longer than usual to change the little due to her ankle, but soon Jihyo was in a pair of soft, pink pajamas. Sana got her an ice pack and made a back rest out of the pillows so her baby could be a little more comfortable.

"Hyo still ouchie." Jihyo leaned into Jeongyeon. She stopped crying a few minutes ago but she was still fussy. Her ankle felt better now that she had an ice pack on it but there was still something missing. Jihyo looked up at Sana, her stuffed owl under her arm.

"What's up, pumpkin? Do you need something else? Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Sana knelt down by the bed and ran her fingers through Jihyo's hair. She hated seeing the little in so much pain and she knew that she didn't like being so unproductive.

Jihyo just shook her head and reached out for Sana, pulling her closer by her shirt. Sana got up and sat down beside Jihyo, wrapping her arms around her baby.

Almost immediately, Jihyo started to relax a little. All she really wanted was her mama and her mommy. Her ankle was cool from the ice pack, her headache was gone now that she had some food in her tummy, and her mommy's arms were so comfy.

"Wan' mommy." Jihyo cuddled impossibly further into Sana's arms, her head buried in the older's chest. She listened closely to her mommy's steady heart beat.

"Looks like our little Hyo just needed some cuddles, huh?" Jeongyeon chuckled and rubbed Jihyo's back. She reached over into the bedside table drawer and pulled out Jihyo's pacifier, gently putting it in the little's mouth. "You're such a good girl, Hyo. I know you're hurting, but you're being so good."

Jihyo cracked a tiny smile, a little giggle escaping her. She reached out to hold Jeongyeon's hand and pulled the older girl closer. "Wuv mama."

Jihyo hated being hurt and she hated having to depend on others, but being in between her mama and mommy made her feel much better. Soon, Jihyo was fast asleep. Jeongyeon replaced the ice pack on her ankle every few hours, keeping a close eye on her in case she needed any more pain medication.

The three spent the rest of the day together, despite Jihyo trying to get out of her little space and try to do work a few times. Her mama and mommy were there for her so there wasn't anything for her to worry about.

[munsonsduchess]

Master of Puppets

summary: you and eddie have a gig coming up that you've been looking forward to for months, the only problem is eddie's still injured w/c: 1,950 warnings: injury mention, swearing, pet names (baby, honey) a/n: i know the gig was ozzy with metallica supporting but i just liked this better, i also have no idea if this is actually how you get backstage at a show i just know it's a stereotype

this is part of the god and goddess of hellfire series, the rest of which you can find on my masterlist

if you enjoyed this please reblog and or leave a comment, it really helps me out 💖

(moodboard by me)

Someone once said “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry” you can’t remember who said it exactly or what mice have to do with anything but you more than understand plans going awry. 

It had been almost three weeks since you’d learnt about the inter dimensional hellscape known as thr “Upside Down” that mirrored Hawkins. Almost three weeks since facing off against monsters with D&D names. 

Since you’d learnt that Eddie’s non stop playing of the new Metallica track had been him learning to play it, in what could only be described as “the most metal concert, ever”.

Of course the concert was short lived and both you and Dustin Henderson had been the ones to find Eddie after his ‘heroic moment’ of drawing the bats away from the trailer, in that moment you had honestly thought you’d lose Eddie forever. That this would be it. Thank God for Steve Harrington and his lifeguard training. You’d never been happier to see the other boy in your life. 

You’d all ended up in the hospital after that with various cuts and scrapes, Nancy insisted someone check Steve over as her Upside Down first aid could only do so much, you and Robin had to drag Dustin kicking and screaming to have his foot looked at, he’d refused treatment until he knew Eddie was going to be ok. 

You’d say with him as the doctors looked at the boys foot and your shoulder, you’d both sustained your injuries jumping back into the trailer after Eddie but told the doctors it had been the earth quakes. Easiest thing to blame it on really. One severely sprained ankle and dislocated shoulder later it was time to talk to the police. 

Nancy to her credit had already been running interference and Robin had called Wayne to let him know what was going on. The staff at the hospital refused to let Chief Powell and his men restrain Eddie to the bed, claiming it would only aggravate his wounds even more. 

It took three days for Eddie to wake up and that’s when the shady looking guys from the ‘government’ stepped in. Everyone else seemed to know them and assured both you and Eddie that things would be ok. Just sign the NDA, take the hush money and don’t talk about what happened  to anyone outside the group. Ever. 

The government guys made up a story about an escaped serial killer Henry Creel and how he’d kidnapped eddie and was planning on framing him for the murders like he’d framed his father all those years ago. They insisted Eddie was a victim as much as anyone else had been, that he had tried to protect Chrissy and that’s when Creel had kidnapped him. 

Apparently in all the chaos Chief Hopper had come back, he hadn’t died in the Starcourt Fire after all but ended up in a Russian prison fighting other monsters with D&D names. Nancy promised to explain the whole thing to you from the start. Hopper had backed up the government's story and that was that apparently. Eddie was a free man. You and Wayne could take him home. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You were sitting in your trailer and looking at the concert tickets in your hand. You and Eddie had scrimped and saved and sold for months to save up for these. They were the holy grail, Metallica in concert within driving distance of Hawkins. Indy was an hour and a half away and ordinarily that was nothing, this time around however with Eddie still having to change his dressings every few days and your shoulder still needing pain medication when it would flare up neither of you were exactly in the best shape,

"What am I gonna do Wayne? You know he had his heart set on this" you asked the older man, he'd taken some time off work to help look after Eddie, "but, is he really in the state to go?" 

"I dunno much about that whole scene but maybe if you could make sure nobody jostled him too much?" 

"Yeah no that's not likely" you had memories of coming back from gigs and being covered in bruises just from being on the outside of the pit never mind being in the pit itself, which Eddie would absolutely want to do.

The High School had given Eddie his GED which he counted as graduating, even if he didn't get to walk the stage or flip the principal off and the show was now a special graduation/survival thing and it would absolutely break Eddie's heart if you couldn't go. 

You were really gonna need to think this one through. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The closer it got to the date of the show the more animated Eddie became. Blasting his Metallica tapes at all hours of the day, speculating on what they'd play, how long they'd play for, if there would be any encore. 

You had an appointment a few days before hand with Dr Owens, the government's Upside Down specialist and you planned to ask him what he thought,

"Well I suppose if you were able to get to a place where you wouldn't be jostled around too much" he'd said, "aren't there seats at this rock show?" 

"I mean yeah but our tickets are standing, we wanted to be as close to the stage as possible" 

"Hmm well that is a problem" 

"What's a problem?" Eddie asked, he'd been off with a nurse for some tests and you'd thought you'd have more time to talk to Dr Owens,

"We'll talk about it at home. Thanks Doc, see you soon" 

You tried to walk out of the hospital without looking back at Eddie who was following after you. You knew if you looked back he'd have a confused and probably hurt look on his face, you'd gone behind his back about something and that's something you never did. 

It wasn't until you'd gotten back into Wayne's truck, it was less conspicuous than the van, and Eddie took the keys from the ignition so you'd have no choice but to talk to him,

"Eddie, I know you've had your heart set on this gig but I don't think it's a good idea. Not when you're still healing" 

"Baby, I know you're worried about me but you can't keep me from everything. You know I can be careful and I promise you I'll stay out of the pit, we'll find a spot away from the main crowd, I'll do anything you want, just please don't take this away from me" 

You looked at Eddie's face and you could see how much this meant to him. With everything you both went through over the last few weeks, could you really deny him something? 

"Ok. Yeah. We'll figure it out" 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You weren't sure how you were going to do this. Wayne had offered to drive you both to Indy and back, he would figure something out to fill his time during the show and he'd call the payphone outside the arena after two hours figuring that would probably be about the right time. There were a few things he could spend his time doing. 

So you loaded up the truck and started on your way. Eddie of course bringing all his tapes with him to play during the journey, Wayne lasted about forty five minutes before he couldn't listen to Metallica, Dio or Sabbath anymore and switched over to a local country station. Which wasn't terrible, it wasn't great either but Wayne was the one driving so you weren't about to complain about the music. 

The station faded out the further out you got from Hawkins and you'd all compromised on a rock station broadcasting from the city which played a little of everything to keep everyone happy. Metal was after all an acquired taste and Wayne did not acquire it, no matter how long Eddie had lived with him.

The closer you got to the arena once you hit the city the more people in leather and battle jackets you saw, teased hair, heavy makeup, spikes everywhere. These were your people, you didn't get this kind of community in Hawkins and being amongst similar minded people was always a rare treat. 

Wayne dropped you both off and you headed towards the gates, Eddie practically vibrating with excitement. You'd both joined the queue and quickly struck up conversations with others in the line, sharing stories about where you were all from, what your favourite songs were, there was a sense of electricity in the air that you only found in situations like this. It was a welcome change from dread and despair. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The arena was packed. People were everywhere, buying merch, drinks, gathering in groups and talking excitedly. As you and Eddie moved through the crowd you were able to find a spot left of the main stage where you'd probably be safe from the worst of the undulating swarm of metalheads. As the support act started, a small local band that had made good and were selling their record at the merch table, the crowd kicked off. You felt someone knock against your shoulder and winced, it wasn't too bad so you were still more or less content with the spot you'd chosen. 

However, that was just the support act. Things really kicked off when Metallica took the stage, people were screaming, cheering, it was an absolute mob and suddenly your safe spot wasn't as safe as it had been. You scanned the crowd, looking for a gap, somewhere you and Eddie could move to and that's when you spotted the guy at the side of the stage talking to some girls. 

You made your decision there and then. You grabbed Eddie's hand and dragged him after you, as the two girls who had been standing there moments ago moved away with sad expressions you took their place,

"Hey, you've got backstage passes?" you yelled to be heard over the noise of the band and the crowd,

"Yeah honey I'll get you backstage, you want one for your boyfriend there too?" the guy asked, with a lazy sly smile

"Can you give me two?" 

"Sure can honey, if you can do something for me" 

You didn't wait for the guy to ask and immediately dropped Eddie's hand to use both so you could lift up your shirt and bra exposing yourself to the guy. You left your shirt up for a minute or so and then dropped it again,

"Is that worth one or two?" 

The guy didn't even respond, just handed you the two passes and stepped aside. You grabbed Eddie's hand again and pulled him behind you,

"That was insane!" he yelled, "I can't believe you just flashed that guy!" 

"We'll be safer back here, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need my sling again for a few days after that" you laughed rubbing your shoulder. 

Eddie didn't have the capacity to reply as a familiar opening riff began on stage and his attention was pulled there, 

"Oh my god I can't believe they're playing it!" Eddie yelled, he pulled you closer to the stage as Master of Puppets continued playing. Eddie mirrored the band as he banged his head along with the music, you'd been worried about this show for weeks and how you and Eddie were going to manage but it really seemed as though everything had worked out.

True you'd shown a strange man your breasts but Eddie now had a chance to meet his idols. So you were counting it as a win and you both really needed a win. 

Fuck Vecna. Fuck the Upside Down. You lived. 

Taglist: @pillow-titties @munsonology @thegirlblogstuff @boomhauer @prettyboyeddiemunson @hellfireeddie6 @that-lame-ghoul9000 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @anxiousstark @ruinedbythehobbit @winnifredburkleismyhero @manda-panda-monium @insertcoolnameherethanks @aftermidnightwriting @mcbeanzontoast

If you want to be added/removed let me know!

[itsthestutterforme]

“The Mission” (Aemond Targaryen x black!wife!reader)

Summary: Your mother stops by for a surprise visit and made it her mission to mend your relationship with Aemond.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, sexual themes (fingering, implied sex),

—

“Well this is just great.” You say to yourself, sitting up after making a complete fool of yourself on the stairs. “Princess! Are you alright?” Your kings guard rushed down the stairs to your aid. He brings you to your feet, pain shoots up your side and dwells on your ankle. Every deep breath you took warranting a sharp pain in your ribs.

“Would you mind taking me to the maesters?” You asked between breaths. “Of course, princess.” He slide an arm around your waist, falling into step with you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to catch you, princess.” “It’s quite alright, Ser Arryk. I should have been looking where I was going.”

The visit to the maesters was very brief. Thankfully there were no gashes or breaks. Just a few bruises and a sprained ankle. Your mother came to Kings Landing for a surprise visit. Aemond and Alicent welcomed her and lead her out of the throne room to your chambers where you nearly walked into them from leaving the maester.

Their eyes widen at your disheveled appearance. “Y/N? Goods be good, what happened to you?” Your mom questioned. “Mom what are you doing here? You didn’t write to tell me you were coming,” you leant off of Ser Arryk and wrapped your arms around your mother in a tight hug.

“Did you know about this?” Alicent asks Aemond. “I knew nothing of it,” his eye fell to Ser Arryk. “You, speak now.” Aemond demands. “I fell down the stairs. It was my fault, Aemond. There’s no way he could have prevented it.” You tell him once you pulled away from your mother.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” “I didn’t want to bother you. You’re a busy man. Besides, it’s nothing more than some bruises and a sprain.” “Bruises?” Your mother repeats. Aemond steps closer to you, his hands clasped behind his back. “You’re my wife. You are my business. I expect you to tell me these things.”

You looked into his eye, noticing something else behind the anger he’s displaying. “Apologies, my Prince.” Alicent and your mother share a look at the encounter between you and your husband. “Though we’re not as intimate as other married couples, does not mean I don’t care for your well-being.”

“I never said that, Aemond.” “Right, well it’s what you implied.” You held his gaze, unsure of what to say next. Your mother took that as an opportunity to say, “Care to show me to my chambers, sweetheart? We have much to discuss.” “Of course,” you took a shaky step and your mother steadied you.

“Are you sure you’re okay to walk?” “The maester suggest I wear crutches,” Aemond sucks his teeth and sent Ser Arryk a glare. “I’ll be alright, guys.” “Y/N,” your mother starts. “I’m okay, really. You of all people should know how much worse I’ve been.” You reach for the crutches Ser Arryk was holding and you placed them under your arms.

“Doesn’t mean I’m used to it,” she eyes you cautiously. “Come on, I’ll show you your chambers.” Your mother follows your lead and Ser Arryk takes a step to follow you but Aemond stops him. “If another incident like this happens again, I will have your head.”

“Yes, my Prince.” He doesn’t dare to look the angry prince in his eye. Anything would have set him off at that point. “So how are things with you and Prince Aemond?” Your mother asks once you were far enough from the pair.

“Things are alright, I suppose.” “You suppose? What did he mean by you not being as intimate as other married couples?” She asked, noticing when you looked away in embarrassment. “When was the last time you had laid with one another?” She adds.

“Mother!” You scold. “Answer the question,” “The last time was consummation,” “Gods, that was weeks ago. What’s wrong? I thought you liked him.” “I thought he liked me, but I soon learned that wasn’t the case.” She stops in her tracks and gave you a scolding look, her hands pressing to her hips.

“Y/N, are you blind? That man adores you. He’s adored you the second you opened your mouth at that tournament. He would do anything you asked.” You shrugged at her words and she huffs in annoyance. She takes your chin in her hands. “You are going to do exactly as I say to the T. You understand?” You sport a bewildered look on your face, not liking where this was going.

**

Your heart pattered as you lingered by the door of the library. Your mother spent the most of her morning preparing you for this moment. She picked out a fancier green dress than the usual silk, navy blue color you wear. She put passion twists in your hair so it was easier to style and put your hair up.

The two of you looked at the final glam in the mirror. She said you looked absolutely gorgeous but a part of you was still nervous about what his reaction will be. Trying your best to ignore the nerves, you pushed the door open. Aemond sits on the loveseat next to fire with a philosophy book in his hand. His free hand taps his leg. “What is it?” Aemond asks, not looking up from his book.

You took slow steps towards him with your hands clasped together. “Um,” you start, immediately catching Aemond’s attention. He looks up from the book, his lips part when he takes you in. Your mocha kissed skin looked absolutely flawless in the shade of green his house represented. He takes his time analyzing your new look and you could feel the blood rushing to your head.

“Are you suppose to be walking?” He asks, breaking the silence. “No, I’m not. But I find the clacking of the crutches quite annoying.” You explain. “Mm. Is there something you needed?” You neared him, your chocolate brown eyes narrowing nervously when he shut his book, giving you his complete attention.

You sat next to him in the chair, giving you a few inches of space. You gently rested your hand on his, making his body tense. You took that as a sign to pull away but to your surprise, he quickly catches your hand to continue holding. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter. My mother has requested to visit Vhagar with your company. Claims she wants to get to know the new side of the family, and that includes the dragons- that’s if you’re able, I know you have council meetings throughout the day.”

“I’ll be honored. The councilmen are adults. I’m sure they’re capable of making decisions without their hand being held,” “And what of you? Do you wish to build a relationship with Vhagar?” He asks, redirecting the conversation. You could feel his gaze burning a hole on the side of your face.

“Honestly.. she puts the fear of the Gods in me.” “I think she’ll like you,” “How can you be so sure?” “Because she’ll know how much fire you have behind your eyes. And she’ll know you’re mine,” he explains, holding your gaze. The tension makes the air thick and you dart your tongue along your lips nervously.

“I’ll, um. I’ll let you get back to your reading.” You stand from the chair and slowly pulled away from his warm hand. “You should get back on the crutches so your ankle heals properly,” “I will,” you walked towards the door, reaching for the handle when he says, “Green suits you,”

You stop your motions and looked over your shoulder at him. “Thank you, Aemond.” You pushed the door open and closed it behind you. Aemond finds himself looking where you were once standing.

That was the first time you had touched him since consummation night. You knew it was odd that you weren’t affectionate with one another, especially if you really adored each other. He didn’t want to overstep by initiating touches. And you were as nervous as a sinner in church whenever you neared him.You were surprised you didn’t combust into flames being so close to him.

There Aemond stood in the confines of the dragon stables. “Where’s your mother?” He asks when you approach. “Can I be plain with you?” “Of course,” “I have reason to believe that my mother made it her mission to mend our relationship. She used Vhagar as a ploy to get us alone together.” You explained. “I see. Do you still wish to ride Vhagar?”

She grumbles at the sound of her name, making the floors vibrate. “Well you didn’t marry a craven. But if she kills me, I’ll haunt you till the end of your days.” A smirk made its way to his lips. “Come on then,” he holds out his hand and you take it gingerly.

He leads you into the stable where you passed some younger dragons and a couple adult dragons. Vhagar was in the very last stable. The biggest one of course. “Vhagar,” Aemond starts. “This is my wife. She is mine just as you are mine,” he tells her and you understood every word.

“You can put your hand on her nose,” he tells you, looking at Vhagar in her eyes. Your hand remained linked with his and you use your other hand to slowly touch the scales on her nose. She leans into you, nearly knocking you off balance. “You’re not so bad, are you?” you said with a chuckle.

Aemond’s focus shifted to you at the sound of your laugh, his eye softening at the interaction. “You ready to ride her?” He asks and worry flashes across your face. “It’s going to be alright,” he rounds Vhagar and you trail behind him by the hand. He hoists you on the net and you climbed onto her mount. She shakes her head and you let out a yelp, trying not to fall off.

“Lykri,” he tells her and she bellows. He climbed up and sat behind you. He told you to grip the reigns and he wrapped his hands around yours, pressing his chest to your back. “Now walk out,” he commands as Vhagar took large steps towards the exit. “Aemond,” you warn.

“Fly, Vhagar!” Your screams were swallowed by her roar. The flaps of her massive wings made your ass lift off the seat and Aemond wraps an arm around you to keep you on the seat. “Aemond!” You yelled, gripping his arm for dear life and leaning further into his chest. Your eyes squinted at the gust of wind slapping your face and combing through your twisted hair.

“Aemond,” you repeated, your eyes widening when Vhagar dives down into a cloud. “Please, tell her to fly straight.” “You speak High Valyrian. You do it.” “Fly straight, Vhagar,” you commanded and she levels back out soon after. You let out a sigh of relief, allowing the tenseness to leave your body.

That’s when you felt the warmth of his hand on your stomach. His breath fanning on the back of your neck and his silver hair blowing in your face. “She listens to you,” he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver through you. “She does,” his hand slides from your stomach to your breast, palming you through the thin material.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks. You shook your head no and he pinched your nipple through the dress. Your eyes fluttered when he kissed the nape of your neck. His hand reached under your dress and cupped your heat through the small clothes.

“May I?” “Please,” you whimpered as he tore your small clothes down the middle before returning one hand to the reigns. He spreads your folds with two of his fingers, rubbing his calloused palm on your clit. You jolted forwards when he teased your core with a finger.

He adds another finger, prodding at an upward angle and in a come here motion. “Fuck,” you groan when the tip of his fingers brush against a gspot. He rolls his fingers under that spot over and over again until your legs trembled. Your ankle dwelled at your toes curling in your shoes.

“Aemond,” you moaned. “Tell her to fly back,” “W-what?” “Tell her to fly back to the stables,” you discarded his previous statement and rocked your hips as he quickens the pace of his fingers. Your body seized with an orgasm and he groans when he feels your cum soak his hand. “I’m sorry.” “Do you do that every time?” He removes his hand from between your legs and licked his fingers.

“Yes,” you answered. “That’ll be a vice for you because I don’t intend to ever stop finding your release. Even if you’re begging with tears in your eyes.” He says into your neck, making you gasp. “Vhagar, return to the stables.” you commanded and she turned a bit too quickly, causing you to slide and he catches you again.

“A few simple words made you weak in the knees, Y/N? It’s hard to believe you ever rode a horse,” he retorts. “Oh. Well if you wouldn’t mind, enlighten me as to what kind of horse is size of a castle and can fly.” You snap back, causing him to chuckle.

When you returned to the stables, he slide down Vhagar’s back first so he could catch you when you slide down. Your face was inches from his when he caught you. “Would you like me to walk you to your chambers, Princess?” “If I can be frank, I want you to do much more than just take my chambers.” You whispered against his lips, your eyes searching his.

**

“Princess Y/N?” A servant calls from the other side of the door. One of Aemond’s hands smoothed over your back, the other on the swell of your thigh. Your lips pressed to his, swollen and sensitive but he refuses to pull away from you. His eye patch was discarded and his hair was pulled free from its usual tight ponytail.

You rolled your hips to match his lazy thrusts into your sore walls while you rested in his lap. “Princess Y/N?” The servant repeats with a loud knock, causing you to pull away from his lips. “Yes?” You called. “Your mother is asking for you in the common hall.” He leaves kisses down your jawline and the nape of your neck.

“Is it urgent?” Aemond chuckles against your chest, nipping at the bruising flesh from his previous love bites. “No, I don’t believe so, Princess.” “Then tell her that her mission has been accomplished and I’ll be in her chambers after dinner.” “Very well,”

You brushed the hair out of his face, pulling at his roots to expose his neck. He hums as you kiss down his neck. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.” He confesses, you met his gaze. You held his face, his eye fluttering when you press a lingering kiss to the sapphire gem.

“You’re already doing enough,” “Then.. why have you avoided me all this time?” “Because you made me nervous. You rarely spoke but it was adamant what you were capable of. It was intimidating..” “If I’m intimidating to you, you’re petrifying to me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you said with a chuckle. “You are. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous and cunning.. you’re intelligent and never afraid to show it.” “Sounds like we’re the perfect match, don’t you?” He answers with a kiss, pulling you closer only to lay your back. He slid between your legs, his silver hair fanning around you. “Remind me to give your mother a kiss before she leaves,”

[kevjrr]

Since these past few days have been particularly stressful, I thought maybe a fluffy Brazil nt-centric fic will cheer us up! ( I hope )

Summary : Neymar was drowning in guilt after he sprained his ankle in the very first match of the world cup. He felt like he had already let his team and country down. Thankfully, his teammates came to his rescue.

Pairing : None

Tags : angst, fluff, protective teammates, attempted humor

Third person's pov

Neymar was hiding. The doctors had finished examining and bandaging his injured ankle ages ago but he refused to leave the room. There was no one using it at the moment so, it was not as if he were bothering anyone.

He did not want to face his teammates yet. It had only been a day and he had already let his friends as well as his country down.

He glanced at his foot, he had avoided looking at it beforehand. Seeing the pristine white gauze wrapped around his swollen, aching ankle made the injury all too real. He looked away as soon as his eyes laid on it, the sight making bile rise up his throat.

The Brazilian grabbed his own hair in his fists and harshly yanked at them. He thought of all the things he could have done differently.

Maybe if he had dribbled less and passed more then he would not have gotten fouled as much.

Maybe if he had trained harder and eaten more, he would have been muscular enough to not go down so easily.

Maybe if he were faster, he would have been able of getting pass those defenders without any of them making contact with him.

Never good enough. He was never good enough. Not in 2014, not in 2018 and not in 2022.

Neymar finally let go when someone knocked on the door. He let the few strands of hair he had accidentally pulled out fall to the ground and wiped the angry tears off his cheeks. He looked at his wet fingers and scoffed. Maybe those people were right and he was an immature crybaby. Here he was wallowing in self pity when he should be out there, congratulating his teammatesfor their brilliant performance - Richi's goals were magnificent - and keeping their morale up.

Ney flinched when the knocks got louder. He inhaled shakily and hoped that his eyes would not give him away. How embarrassing would it be if someone were to find out that the Neymar Jr was crying over a sprained ankle.

"Come in." He called out, making himself comfortable on the bed. Taking extra precautions not to jostle his leg.

The small room was, in less than a second, flooded with worried Brazilians. They were all in their sweat soaked jerseys and soiled socks. There were traces of smiles on their faces, still high off their win but their concern was more apparent.

"How are you feeling? What'd the doctors say?" Thiago asked, as he walked towards Neymar and sat next to him. His hands automatically reaching up to stroke the younger man's hair.

The latter leaned against the older man's fingers, the soothing touch chasing his thoughts away. "I'm fine, doesn't hurt much. They said it's a sprain."

"Thank God you didn't tear anything. How long will it take to heal?" Lucas pitched in, smiling at the older man before plopping down on the chair closest to the bed. Richarlison and Vini took the other two remaining ones while the rest searched around the room to find places to sit.

"Around 1 to 2 weeks." Neymar replied, not making eye contact with any of them. He felt too ashamed to. They had been counting on him and now, he probably would not be able to play the rest of the knockout matches.

"We'll win them!" Rodrygo suddenly yelled out from where he was perched on a stool in the middle of the room.

Vini snickered but quickly disguised it as a cough and turned his head away before the younger boy could notice. However, the room was too small so, it did not work. He was still heard by everyone. Rodrygo glared at the back of his head in response.

Ney looked back and forth between the two madridistas, amused despite himself.

"As I was saying, we'll win all of the matches. Don't worry about us." The youngest grinned at him boyishly.

Before the older man could even get a word out, Richarlison spoke, "He's right. No need to worry about us. Just focus on healing, take your time."

"Take my time, huh?" He asked teasingly, cocking a brow at the younger man.

Richi's eyes widened and he immediately shook his head, "That-that's not what I meant! I meant that-you don't have to rush for us."

Neymar's heart melted. His boys were too sweet.

"Yeah, you better not overexert yourself. Just rest and watch us. We'll get you to the quarterfinals." Casemiro added, his tone serious. He smiled at the man on the bed, his gaze confident. Classic Casemiro.

Neymar noted how he had said 'we'd get you...'. They did not care that he would not be able to play, all they cared about was that he took good care of himself. He almost wanted to cry again but he hastily held the tears back.

Case's confidence seemed to bleed through everyone in the room as they all uttered words or sounds of agreement.

"Thank you, guys." Ney said, his tone sincere and his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions.

"For what?" Raphinha asked, beaming at him.

"Yeah, for what?" Anthony asked, somehow both teasingly and reassuringly at the same time.

For caring about me. For being you.

"Anyways! We just won, guys, let's celebrate!" Lucas said excitedly, wiping out a mini speaker from God knows where.

"You aren't done celebrating yet? Don't you guys want a shower of something?" Neymar asked incredulously. It was already pretty late, he had thought they would prefer to rest.

When all of them avoided eye contact with him, he turned towards Thiago who has been weirdly silent this entire time.

The said man switched arms so that his left hand was stroking Ney's hair and not his right. The younger man felt a pang of guilt. Not wanting the older man's other hand to get tired too, he started to move away only to be pulled back.

Thiago shook his head at him and explained, "They wanted to wait for you but since you were not coming, we went to look for you. We saw a doctor in the hallway and questioned him. He said that he did not see you leave this room."

"We thought that maybe you did not want to walk." Marquinhos butted in.

"So we brought the fun to you!" Vini finished his friend's sentence as he lifted up a mini drum in the air.

Neymar stared at the two of them for a moment before bursting out in laughter lest he started feeling emotional again. What on earth had he done to deserve such good friends?

"You-haha you guys are too much! Let's go celebrate in the locker room instead. It's bigger than here. I can walk." He said, standing up with Thiago's help.

Lucas quickly put an arm behind Neymar in case he lost his balance. "Are you sure you don't want crutches?"

"Yes, Lulu."

"Don't call me that, Ney!" The West Ham midfielder whined, pouting.

“Would you prefer a wheelchair?"

"No. I would not, Marqui." Neymar replied indulgently.

"I can carry you?" Richarlison suggested, watching their forward hop on one leg as he used their captain's arm for support. Neymar looked adorable but that could not be comfortable in his opinion.

"I'm not a damsel in distress, Richi." Neymar tried his best not to laugh. He appreciated their offers of help, really but he could manage on his own.

"But-"

"I've got him." Thiago said, sighing exasperatedly. His team was something else.

"We could-"

"I've got him. Shoo!" He replied, gesturing towards the door. His left eye twitching.

After all of them had scrambled out, he tightened his grip on the younger man leaning on him and whispered, "Don't cry anymore, alright? You aren't letting us down."

Neymar's heart skipped a beat.

"Wha-how?!"

"Your eyes were red. Don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed."

"But how did you-?"

The captain quickly wrapped an arm around Ney's waist when he stumbled. "Why else would you be crying? It certainly wasn't because of the pain. Your pain tolerance surpasses all of ours."

When they reached the door, Thiago turned sideways to look into the youngest's eyes to show him how serious he was, "It's not your fault you got injured, hermanito. The Serbians were way too aggressive." He paused to press a soft kiss on Neymar's forehead, "We depend on you. You depend on us. It's a two-way thing, Ney. We're a team, aren't we?"

Neymar gaped at him, taken aback. He stood there still as a statue as he tried to digest the words. Slowly, his lips quirked up into a huge smile. It was crazy how Thiago always seemed to know what to say. The only thing his mind could conjure up was, "I love you!"

Thiago smiled fondly.

"I love you too." He replied, more restrained but no less sincere.

[tortoisesshells]

23. carrying the other one in their arms; for burke/vicki?

absolutely! technically this is from the rvb universe, just ... before Roger shows up again.

Vicki must have fallen asleep, because she was waking up now – Burke taking Hamilton’s Mythology out of her hands and setting it on the side-table, the noise of the fire-irons as he put out the fire in the grate. She couldn’t remember anything from what she’d been reading; the hour was late and she ought to have been getting to bed – thinking that, Vicki closed her eyes again, and started drifting –

only to find herself picked up, and carried through the warm darkness towards the stairs.

“I’m awake,” she murmured, not particularly feeling it. More that she ought to be making the effort, after a week of being laid up with a turned ankle that really wasn’t even turned – a quarter-turned, she’d told her doctor, making a weak joke of it. “I can walk. It’s been a week.”

“And two weeks since you tripped while you were out with David.”

Vicki said she was fine, and the one hadn’t led to the other. Burke scoffed, not unkindly. “That’s not what the doctor said.”

“And I didn’t need to go to the doctor.”

“You were hurt.”

“It’s not even a real sprain,” she said.

But Burke only nodded, saying he was glad for it, then: “I blame myself, you know. If you hadn’t been in such a rush to get me to bed, well –”

Vicki turned her head into his shoulder. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“But you blush so prettily.” She could hear the wicked look in his voice, reminding her of where his hands were on her back, her knees. “And besides, you weren’t lying when you said you’d missed a step on the stairs. The whole truth’s between you, me, and the banister.”

She said his name, reproachingly, and he let it go, climbing the last few steps in silence.

On the landing, Vicki looked up – the fourth floor, the places in the house she scarcely ever went. A part of her still felt it was a waste, having a home with space no one used – something that was all right for the Collinses of the world, with their disused dining rooms and sitting rooms and ballrooms and bedrooms, adding up into whole empty wings – but not for her. Graduates of the Hammond Foundling Home didn’t have spare rooms.

“Burke,” she said, quietly, and waited until he hummed in acknowledgment to continue, “Burke, when do you ever get used to all of this?”

“A decent roof over your head?” He put her down on the bed and kissed her temple, before heading into the bathroom. She heard the sounds of the sink and the toothbrush.

“We could have had a decent roof over our heads for a quarter of the price of this place.”

“I guess the other three-quarters went to the garden and four floors,” he replied – mostly, around the toothpaste. There was relative quiet, and then she heard the sink again. Burke returned, and sat beside her. “Something’s on your mind.”

“Nothing, really. Just –” she gestured at the room, with an inventory that would have seemed impossible to her a few months before: full shelves, full closets, full of things. The too-large bed against the wall. The vanity mirror that she had begun to stick ticket stubs in, like the main character of some teen movie: she’d been all these places. It was all real.

She just – hadn’t thought about it so much, when she was darting in and out of it all day – but being trapped in here for a week? With only her thoughts for company between breakfast and dinner? She’d written a self-pitying letter to Mrs. Stoddard about being stuck in her own house, then torn it up, remembering her audience. The next letter had been a much more cheerful one.

She couldn’t really complain of feeling like a prisoner in the house to Burke, either. Vicki wondered how to get out of mentioning it, but he seemed to realize what she’d meant. “How about the movies tomorrow, then?”

[woodelf68]

Trying to go through and get rid of some old stuff, and I found the letters the school sent my parents saying I had passed the screening done to identify students for the gifted program in 7th grade, which was a class that would take the place of one of my elective choices for the year.

From the first letter: "The course curriculum deals with divergent thinking skills in developing creative problem solving, decision making, analysis, syntheses, and evaluation".

I assume I was just as horrified reading that then as I am now. Just because I liked to read and got good grades in the subjects I was interested in (English, social studies, etc.) did not mean I was academically-minded or wanted to feel more "challenged" in class.

From the second letter, Premise One: (Yes, the points laid out in the letter are labeled "premises", and let me tell you, that kind of stuffy language puts me off immediately.) "Gifted children will be among the leaders and problem-solvers of the future."

Me: AHAHAHAHA (Definitely not me)

"Activities: Future problem solving bowl techniques (Bowl???), Time capsules (not interested, and I think we'd already done one in 6th grade?), a library search of the origins of war (oh boy, just how 12 year old me wanted to spend my time! (not)), group discussions involving values, education, self-concept, death, social security, nature-nurture, vocation (I literally cannot think of anything less interesting), and future shock (I have no idea what this was about, and couldn't care less.)

The next bit's about learning how to research and outline and write a paper, but we did that in regular classes. And then Premise 3: These children are more likely to be vocationally motivated than average students, so the program should assist them in making intelligent occupational choices.

Me: AHAHAHAHA no. Never been vocationally motivated in my life. And I had just gotten out of elementary school, the highlight of my week was probably still watching Saturday morning cartoons, some vague future where I had to get a job was not something I was concerned about. Six years in the future was literally half of my entire life at that point, and felt a very long way away. Asking kids if they have a future dream job is one thing (and suggesting things they could do at their current age to pursue those dreams), but all the tests and stuff they mentioned seem better suited for kids moving into high school.

The only statement the letter made that I agree with is Premise 4: "Gifted children should be given the opportunity to determine the activities they are most interested in." Well, yeah, all children should, but I didn't need to waste one of my elective classes to find out what I liked; I already knew.

Premise 5: "Gifted students have a tendency to become workaholics if they do not learn the importance of a good balance between work and relaxation."

Me: AHAHAHAHA, this is so not me. In fact it sounds to me that this class would have been forcing me to do extra work. 'Relaxing' activities listed are skating (nope, never was able to learn how to skate, I have weak ankles and crap balance), bowling (boring), baseball (boring, too much standing around under a hot sun), and volleyball (only one that I might have found fun, although I sprained my ankle so badly in high school gym class playing volleyball that I started repeatedly spraining it on a regular basis just by like catching a toe on a crack in the sidewalk; even months of physical therapy failed to break up any of the resulting scar tissue or improve my near non-existent range of motion in my ankle. Athletics and me do not get along.).

Premise 6: "The society of the future needs these "movers" and "shakers"...

Me: AHAHAHAHA again, SO not me. I am not a mover and a shaker, I am a sitter and a reader. I think my parents tried to encourage me to take the gifted class, but I am so glad that they didn't force me when I very firmly said no. Idk, maybe there are kids out there who enjoy thinking about death and social security and self-concept, I enjoyed learning practical skills in woodshop and the home ec cooking class that I took that year.

[raememg]

Broken Ankle

I felt apprehensive about leaving the house. I almost didn't. But my favorite manager was quitting and I didn't want her to think I didn't care.

After years of pestering my psychiatrist, I finally was allotted a small quantity of klonopin each month. They gave me something else for social anxiety but it doesn't really hit the same as the cloud of protection the benzos offered. I had a box of wine in the fridge too and I was proud of myself for nursing it for a week instead of bingeing it. I took some klonopin, and had a big serving of rosé. I was still nervous but I called a car and made my way up to the restaurant. I didn't feel too far gone, but I definitely felt buzzed by the time I got out of the car.

I ordered some calamari & some more wine. I think I did a shot too. We'd gotten a new natural wine so I tried some, and then I asked for a glass. I was drunk.

The chef came over to the bar and sat with me for a bit. He started telling me about a mosh pit he and some of the line cooks got roughed up in the night before. We started talking about injuries and I mentioned breaking my ankle in high school. After exchanging some war stories about casts and gashes, I realized I was getting a bit sloppy and decided it was time to go home. I settled up with the bartender and gave heartfelt goodbyes to my manager. I decided I would take the train to see a movie.

I never walked to the restaurant but I always walked home; it was a 2 mile downhill walk and it was always fun being drunk alone and feeling like I had a secret to keep. About a block and a half into my walk, I noticed that I was stuck behind an elderly man walking slow. In my attempt to overtake him, I slipped on the curb and lost my footing.

Snap. Fuck that hurt. I tried to get up but I couldn't. I sat on the curb and took some deep breaths. I felt my ankle swelling up in my heeled doc martens. I realized how drunk I was and remembered taking the klonopin. Idiot.

A pretty dyke ran across the street and offered to help me up, dropping her mail in the process and telling me she thought my knee had buckled. Once I was up I could stand, but I couldn't walk. I could tell I needed to get my boot off as soon as possible to asses the damage. I called an uber but it was going to take 15 minutes to pick me up. I needed ibuprofen and ice. I cancelled my car & unlocked a fucking scooter. I situated myself so my left leg was the passive one, and I engaged my thigh muscle with a bend in my knee, trying to bear my weight on my upper leg instead of my ankle.

I could tell I was in shock.

I got home in about 7 minutes. I got the boot off and got violently stoned. I took more klonopin. I realized I didn't have any ice packs. I put a bunch of ice in a 13gallon trash bag and laid down with my ankle elevated and puffy. I wasn't in shock anymore and I called my mom crying. I called my best friend and we decided I didn't need to go to the doctor. I'd had sprained ankles before and I told myself I imagined the snap I felt in my leg when I fell.

I waited a week to go to the doctor. I didn't have health insurance. When I got to the ER, they x-rayed me and the tech started laughing and asked me if I'd been walking & how long ago I fell. I told him a few days ago. Girl your ankle is broken! My stomach dropped. Fuck. I felt like a loser. I realized how stupid it was to mix my meds with alcohol. I thought about how stupid it was to get drunk and walk home alone. I didn't just slip and fall. I made a bunch of choices that led to me breaking my ankle when I was shitfaced at 6pm on a Monday.

I ended up taking 6 weeks off from work because you can't really run around a restaurant full of celebrities in a black velcro boot. I lost a lot of money. I got health insurance and a therapist. I tried not to drink as much on klonopin.