#i'll just cope and get through it whatever way i can

[green-mountain-goose]

whatever happens i cant fail is an *abysmal* strategy for living life. and yet rn....

[byanyan]

I've talked a fair amount about how byan has been bullied and hurt by teachers in the past (& how they'd hit their limit and seek drastic revenge, in some cases), but I've never really talked much about how byan has also bullied and outright tormented teachers for themself... like yeah, it's definitely because they don't trust teachers or authority figures in general due to their past experiences, but that doesn't mean that their 9th grade math teacher deserved to feel afraid for his own safety or that their 10th grade biology teacher should have been so stressed that she retired early. byan has been done dirty by a lot of people in their life but they've also been a genuine menace to others who gave them no real reason to be, and they have taken enjoyment in it in a lot of cases.

[straykats]

sometimes i entertain the thought of like. everything ending up okay and then i get even more scared and anxious and idk why

[luveline]

Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling

thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k

Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 

Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 

You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 

Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 

"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 

"Then leave me alone," he says. 

Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 

"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 

He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 

You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 

The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 

You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 

You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 

From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 

"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 

You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 

You struggle to see him in the dark. 

"I should never have spoken to you like that." 

Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 

"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 

"I'm too tired," you mumble. 

Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 

You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 

"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 

"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 

You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 

"I love you," you say. 

"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 

"So don't be sorry." 

"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 

"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 

"I know," he utters. 

You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 

"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 

You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 

His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 

"I love you," he says into it. 

You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 

"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.

You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 

"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 

You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 31: Warmth

You cope with the aftermath of patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Fall out from canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8k

A/N: Hi y'all. This does have a continuation of the spoilers from TLOU2. Again, I'm so sorry for not warning about these further in advance. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM (or you can always yell in the comments or in my asks. I don't delete things if they're not the kindest so I'll leave whatever you want to send my way up, I totally get it.) Thanks for being here ❤️

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It shouldn’t be this hard to stay conscious when the world is ending. 

You’d had the thought before, in the early days of the outbreak. When you were trying to find someplace safe and had no idea where to start, when you were just riding and riding and hoping you’d be alive to see the next morning. 

But now was different. It wasn’t your life, it was Joel’s. His was so much more important than your own and the fear of losing him was keeping you awake. You’d nod off for a second - you thought, anyway - only to jerk back awake when your grip on his wrist slipped and his pulse wasn’t a constant - if weak - drumbeat below your fingers. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been on the floor with him. Things were fuzzy. You’d lost a lot of blood, you were familiar with that sensation now, you could identify it even as your mind was foggy. You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened. You remembered Joel screaming - you didn’t think you’d ever forget that horrific sound - and running to find him. You remembered watching as that girl swung the golf club down on his body. It wasn’t until you were already in the room, fighting for control of your gun with someone who looked like he was about Ellie’s age that you realized this was probably a mistake. You’d charged in without a plan to get backup, you were hugely outnumbered, no one knew where the fuck you were. You should have at least gone back for your horse, you were pretty sure she could have fit down here and you could have used sheer size and weight to clear the room. 

But they were killing him. That’s all that could force that sound from someone, life and death, and you couldn’t risk it. If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that you could save him, you were going to take it. Even if it killed you, you were going to take it. 

The threat was gone now - or you hoped it was, at least. Gatling was still on guard. You could feel how tense she was behind you, her body engaged and ready to strike. If they came back armed to the teeth before help arrived, though, you’d be finished. 

Joel’s wrist, the one you’d been holding, relaxed some and you forced yourself to sit up. 

“Joel?” You managed, adjusting your hold on him. His whole arm was limp now. Your heart beat faster. You released his wrist and pressed your fingers into his neck, where you liked to kiss him and feel the vital thrum of his pulse through his skin. It was faint but it was there. You adjusted yourself, propping yourself up on your elbow as your cut side screamed in pain, and you ran your fingers through his hair. You took comfort in the fact that you still could do that. While the rest of his body had been brutalized, Joel’s head was intact outside of where it looked like someone had landed a punch on his cheek near his eye, a bruise blossoming on his skin but no blood shed. It was like the girl had been saving his head for last, like she was trying to draw it out, make sure he was alive and awake while she hurt him. It turned your stomach. 

“You’re OK Joel,” you held face gently in your hand. “Gonna get you out of here, get you back to Ellie. You’re OK.” 

You stayed propped up like that for a while, just talking to him and running your fingers gently through his hair and feeling his breath on your skin until you were too weak to hold yourself up anymore. You collapsed alongside him then, trying to shield his body with yours as much as you could in case the people came back. 

Just a little sleep. That’s all. That’s what you needed, just enough rest to be able to think straight. Then you could figure out how to get Tommy and Joel back to Jackson. 

“Gatling,” you managed before you passed out. “Guard.” 

You woke up to snarling. 

Your head was swimming and you could feel the strength of the dog at your side, her body pressed back against you as she growled and barked. You tried to get your bearings as quickly as you could, fumbling for the rifles you’d brought to Joel’s side. 

“Bambi!” You recognized Ellie’s voice. “Bambi, call off Gatling, she won’t listen to me, we can’t get close enough…” 

“Gatling,” you gritted your teeth, your cut side burning and pulling as you tried to sit up. “Down.” 

You felt her relax and she gave a little whine before curling up against you and giving you a lick. You managed to prop yourself up on your uninjured side, eyes fighting to focus as Ellie, Jesse, Julie and Gene came in. Ellie ran for Joel, Gatling giving a little whine as she tracked her with her eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Gene said as he got a good look at Joel. 

“He’s alive,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “I thought…” 

“I know,” you adjusted so you could see him, check on his bandages. Your side protested, damaged skin pulling painfully. “But we have to get him to the doctor, we have to move him now…” 

“I don’t know that we can,” Gene knelt next to Ellie, looking Joel up and down. 

You frowned. 

“The fuck do you mean you don’t know.” 

“I mean,” he said gently. “We need to move quick, already been here too long, and we only have so many hands. I don’t know that he can make it back to Jackson and we should focus on…” 

“Fuck you,” your teeth were clenched, sweat starting at your temples from the strain of sitting upright. “We are not just gonna leave him out here…” 

“If we can save you and Tommy?” Gene said. “Then that’s what we should do. That’s what he’d want.” 

“Fuck you!” Ellie looked murderous. “Bambi’s right…” 

“C’mon,” Julie’s hands gently enveloped your shoulders. “Let’s try to get you up…” 

“I’m not going!” You wrenched yourself out of her grip and cried out in pain, a gush of blood coming from the wound at your side. “I’m not going without him, I’m not leaving him here!” 

Julie’s hands were on you again but you pulled yourself free, forcing yourself to your knees. 

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Gene warned, moving for you, too, but you ignored him. 

“Gatling!” You managed through clenched teeth. Her head sprang up. “Guard!” 

She jumped to her feet and jumped between you and Gene. 

“Bambi,” he said cautiously, hands up, as your dog snapped her jaws and snarled at him. 

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” you were panting for breath. “You can’t make me, not with her like this. She’ll kill you and I’ll fuckin’ let her. Take him. Now.” 

Gene looked back at Jesse, who was helping Tommy sit up. He just shrugged. Gene looked back to you. 

“Fine,” he said. “But you gotta give us some space to work, can’t move him with her like this…” 

You struggled to your feet, using Julie’s shoulder as leverage, and you limped to the wall, all but collapsing against it. Gatling stayed on you, staring Gene down, seeming to trust Julie as you leaned against her. 

“She’s guardin’ me,” you said. “Won’t bother you over there. Move him. Do it.” 

You watched as Gene, Jesse and Ellie got Joel off the floor and out of the room. There was a perverse spot on the ground where his body had been, his blood pooled there. There was so much of it, so much it didn’t seem like there would be any left inside of him. You remembered, suddenly, Justin on the night of the outbreak. How you’d tried to put his blood back inside of him in the hopes that it would save him. How could you save the man you loved if all his blood was on the floor? 

“He’s alive?” Tommy asked from his place propped against the wall. There was a streak of blood down his face. 

“He’s alive,” you said. He closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his head against the wall. 

“Thank you,” he said, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “I can’t…” 

“It’s OK,” you said. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be OK. He will.” 

You weren’t sure you believed it.

Jesse came back down and helped Tommy up before stopping near the door, keeping a safe distance from you and Gatling. 

“We got him on a horse,” he said. “We gotta move.” 

You gave him a nod and watched him get Tommy started on the stairs before you looked down at Gatling, her body drawn tight, ready to spring into action. 

“Gatling. Heel.” 

She looked up at you, muscle relaxing, and licked her lips. 

“You’re a good girl,” you said, trying to imbue as much praise into your voice as you could manage. “You did real good.” 

She wagged a little uncertainly and watched, waiting to follow you. Julie looped your arm around her shoulders while hers slipped around your waist and she helped you toward the stairs, taking it slow. You had to stop and rest once, not able to breathe, the warm gush of your blood when you pulled the air down low in your lungs making your head spin. 

“Think you can make it?” Julie asked, concerned. 

You nodded, wincing. 

“I’ll make it,” you said. “I know, we have to move.” 

She held you a little tighter and the cold air burned your lungs when you made it outside. Joel was draped over Ares, Gene mounted up behind him. Tommy was on his own horse, blood still on his face as he stared blankly at Joel’s limp body. 

“You can ride with me,” Julie said but you shook your head. You weren’t about to not be in control of a horse, not in this situation. You needed to have the power if something went wrong. You couldn’t trust anyone else to make Joel a priority if there were infected or raiders or, worst of all, the people who had attacked him to begin with. You needed to be able to move to protect him. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, even though you knew getting on Renaissance was going to hurt something fierce. “Don’t need to be slowin’ us down any more by putting two of us on a horse.” 

She went to protest but you pulled away from her and swallowed the sounds of your pain as you went to Renaissance and pulled yourself onto her. You called Gatling onto your saddle, too, and she settled there, still on high alert. You guided the horse to be alongside Gene and Joel and stared Gene down, almost daring him to fight you on it. 

“I want to get everyone back,” he said gently. “But if it’s not everyone, I want as many as I can get.” 

“Then let’s go,” you bit out. 

The ride back to Jackson felt long, longer than it really was, you were sure. Every step Renaissance made was painful. It was hard to stay conscious when you’d lost so much blood and the pain was blinding. You were terrified that something was going to happen, that someone was going to pick now to attack people from Jackson and that you wouldn’t be strong enough to save Joel. The thought was constant and overbearing, hollowing out your chest and making your stomach clench. 

By the time the walls of the city were in view, you were barely able to stay on your horse. Dina had ridden ahead to tell the doctors and the council what was happening and you were thankful for it as your head spun and vision grew spotty as you neared the gates. You were too out of it to notice that someone was there to catch you as your strength started to give out.

“Woah there!” You vaguely recognized Ryan, a guard you regularly saw when he went out on patrol, stomach turning as he lowered you to the snow. “Hey Doc! Got one here!” 

“No,” you shook your head, words starting to slur. The blood on your clothes was cold against your skin. “M’fine… Joel, need to help Joel…” 

“They’re getting him,” he said, looking down at you. He had a nice face, you thought. Pleasant and calming. “You got him back here, it’s OK. We’ll get you taken care of, it’s alright…” 

“Joel,” you closed your eyes. At least things were warmer here. It hurt less. “Need… Joel…” 

“We’ve got him,” Ryan said. His voice sounded so far away. “It’s alright, we’ve got him.” 

You barely remembered nodding before you passed out. 

You were warmer when you woke up. 

Sound came first. It took a moment before you could open your eyes but you could hear the muffled sounds of bickering not far away. For half a moment, you thought you were in Joel’s bed. That he and Ellie were in a tiff just outside his bedroom door, going back and forth about some harebrained scheme that one of them had latched onto. You thought about pressing your face into the pillow and trying to go back to sleep, hoping that Joel would come in once one of them wore the other down. He did that sometimes when he woke up before you, bringing you a cup of tea and setting it on the nightstand before wrapping around you, pulling you into his broad chest and burying his face in your hair or your neck, kissing you and breathing you in until you stirred in his arms. 

And then you remembered. Waking up next to Joel. Going on Patrol. The storm. The blood. 

You tried to sit up before your eyes were open, side pulling and head spinning. 

“Hey guys, she’s waking up!” 

Your eyes had never been heavier but you forced them open anyway, already reaching and groping to figure out where you’d ended up. 

The room was bright, the bed soft. It was the third time you’d managed to dodge death and awoken, confused and lightheaded, in Jackson’s clinic. The other bed was empty.  

“Joel,” you started trying to get up but two small hands held you in bed and you frowned, ready to fight whoever was holding you back, but it was Savvy, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, curls springing in every direction. 

“Mom, you have to be calm, you’ll rip your stitches…” 

She was here. She was with you, willing to talk to you, touch you. The sound of her voice, all gentle concern, made your chest tighten. You just looked at her for a moment, seeking out the minute changes in her since you’d gotten a chance to see her - really see her - last. You thought she might be having her last growth spurt. She looked a little longer, her face a little thinner. There was a scratch on her cheek that you wanted to kiss like you did when she was little. There were tears in her eyes. 

“Savvy…” 

“I was so scared,” her voice cracked. “I thought you might be dead, I thought…” 

“Oh honey,” you pulled her against you and held her to your chest, one arm looping around her waist, the other hand cradling her head to you, the wet of her tears on your neck. You kissed her temple and tried to keep the tears that were starting to cling to your eyelashes from falling. “It’s OK, you’re alright, I’ve got you. Don’t have to be scared, you’re OK.” 

“I’ve never seen you like that,” she sniffed from her place against your skin. “You’re always so strong, you’re never hurt, not like that…” 

“I know,” you said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m sorry, Honey, I wish you hadn’t seen that. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see it again and we can talk all about it but baby, I need to know where Joel is. Is he here? Is he OK? Is he alive?” 

She sniffed and started to pull back from you as the door opened, Ellie, Tommy, Maria and Dr. Livingston coming in. They moved slowly, cautiously. Like they were worried you would startle if they behaved normally. Tommy looked washed out, Ellie exhausted, both with grim looks on their faces. Your arms went limp and Savvy sat back from you, looking between you and them. 

“No,” you shook your head, a lump growing in your throat. “No, no, you’re wrong, he’s not…” 

“He’s alive,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “Barely. But you got him here just in time, it was very very close while we worked on him…” 

“Where is he,” you tried to get up again but Savvy held you down. “I need to see him, just for a second, please…” 

“He’s still unconscious,” Dr. Livingston continued. 

You frowned, looking between everyone. 

“That’s bad,” you said, reading their expressions. “Why… How long has it been?”

“We’ve been back about two and a half days,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You nodded slowly. That made sense to you.

“He was hurt bad,” you said, looking between them again. “He lost a lot of blood…” 

“He did,” Dr. Livingston said. “But… well, we’d normally expect to see more from him by now. He’s breathing on his own - we don’t have the facilities to keep him alive if he can’t - but that’s the best we can really say for him. He’s… he’s unresponsive.” 

You processed what she said for a moment.

“You’re sure?” 

She nodded, her mouth a thin line. 

“Are you…” You had to close your eyes and focus for a second. None of this came easy or naturally. It was utterly unnatural, thinking of Joel in that way. He was so strong, so vital. He couldn’t just stop being like that. He couldn’t just fade away into nothing like that. “Are you saying he might not wake up?” 

“The longer he’s like this, the more likely it becomes,” Dr. Livingston said. 

“But he’s still alive,” you said, looking back toward Ellie and Tommy again, looking for that reassurance that you weren’t crazy. They knew him, they knew that he wouldn’t just disappear from his body like that. “He’s still breathing.” 

“He’s alive,” she said. “But he might be brain dead, we have no way of knowing right now, no way of scanning for brain function like we did before… I’m so sorry, but you have to consider the possibility that…” 

“Take me to see him,” you cut her off. She looked at Maria, worry in her eyes, like she thought you might be unstable. “Please.” 

Dr. Livingston sighed. 

“You’ve got a fair few fresh stitches and you’re still down plenty of blood yourself. We’ll have to take it slow.” 

Ellie and Savvy helped you stand up and you could feel the wounds on your leg and stomach protesting the movement. For a moment, you thought you might be able to count the number of stitches in your skin because the way it pulled and strained. You hissed and clutched the girls’ hands, squeezing their fingers so hard that you could only hope it didn’t hurt them. 

They helped you across a short hallway to a room that was almost identical to the one you’d been in, just with one fewer bed, giving people more room to work. Joel was there, flat on his back, his arms down straight at his sides over the top of the blanket. But he looked strange, unnatural. 

It took you a moment to recognized the part of it that was wrong. His chest rose and fell, the worst of his injuries hidden by the quilt. He looked like he was sleeping. But it was off. He never slept like that, straight as a board with his arms at his sides in that way. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t the way his body arranged itself when he was relaxed. Even when he wasn’t curled around you, he slept on his side or, if he was on his back, his hands were folded and resting where his chest met his stomach. He napped on the couch that way sometimes, when he was sleeping lightly, waiting for you. You could come in and press a kiss to his forehead and he would open one eye and cock a smile at you, just big enough that his cheek would dimple. 

But if your lips touched him now, you knew he’d be still. He wouldn’t look at you like you made him happy just by existing. His cheek wouldn’t dimple. 

You made your way to a chair near the head of the bed and lowered yourself into it slowly. His skin was pale, his face totally lax in a way that wasn’t peaceful and was, instead, like an echo. 

“Oh God,” you breathed, one hand going to your lips. 

“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “We have ways to get him fluids and nutrients but… it’s nothing long term. We’ll just have to hope he makes a turn for the better.”

You nodded, not able to stop looking at him. His body was so empty, so unlike him. 

“Can I stay with him?” You asked quietly. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying but you were. 

“Sure,” she said. “For now. But you need rest…” 

You just nodded. You’d fight that battle when the time came. 

The doctor left you with the girls, Tommy and Maria. Joel’s family and yours. All the people you had in the world in this one, small room. 

“I was going to go home and get changed, take a nap…” Ellie said quietly. “Can I bring you something?” 

“One of his shirts?” You asked. 

“Sure,” she said. You heard the door open and she paused. “You did everything you could, Bambi. We all did.” 

You nodded, not willing to argue with her. 

“I think Tommy and I will get out of here for a bit, too,” Maria said. “Give you some time. We’ll be back in a few hours unless I can actually get my husband to get some real sleep…” 

“He wouldn’t be sleepin’ if it were me,” Tommy said, voice sharper than you were used to hearing. 

Maria sighed. 

“Come on, honey,” she said. “You need rest, too.” 

The room was quiet for a moment, so quiet you could hear the sound of Joel’s shallow breaths. You wanted to put your head on his chest and listen to the life inside him, reassure yourself that he was still in there somewhere, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You’d already done enough. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was soft. “Is it… can I stay? For a bit?” 

You managed to pull your eyes away from Joel to find her, standing to the side, her arms tight over her chest. 

“Of course baby,” you said, looking for another chair. She found one first, moving it to be beside yours. She settled in there, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. She was looking at Joel, her face drawn. “How have you been?” 

She shrugged noncommittally. 

“Alright, I guess,” she said. “School is OK. Math is stupid.” 

You laughed lightly once. 

“Math’s not stupid but… I know what you mean. Wasn’t ever my strong suit. I liked history best. And music, of course.” 

“Course,” she smiled a little. “I like Ellie and… I like staying where I have been but… I missed you. Missed home.” 

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. 

“I missed you, too,” you said, voice wet. “So much. More than anything.” 

She nodded slowly, not looking at you. 

“I heard the doctors and some other people talking,” she said hesitantly. “What they were saying… It’s not the first time they’ve seen you hurt like this.” 

You waited for a moment, to make sure she was done. 

“It’s not,” you said. 

She nodded again. 

“How did you end up here?” She asked quietly. 

“I…” You sighed and tried to find the best way to phrase it. “I’d wound up with some bad people. I got hurt. Joel found me when I was in real bad shape. He brought me here. He saved me.” 

“When was that?” 

“About two years ago,” you said. 

“So you weren’t just here the whole time,” she said, more like a statement than a question. 

“No,” you said softly. “I wasn’t.” 

She nodded again. You could see her processing the information, her eyes slightly squinting as she did, so like her father used to do. It still tugged at your heart, bits and pieces of a man you’d loved still alive in his child. 

“I’m still not sure how I feel,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip. “But… I don’t want to keep being mad at you. I miss you. I’d… I’d like to find a way to see you. At least some. For now.” 

“I’d like that,” you said, sniffing a little. “I’d like that a lot. As much time as you want, honey, I’m here.” 

“OK,” she smiled a tight lipped smile at you before looking to Joel. “Do you really think he’ll wake up?” 

You sighed, looking at him, too. 

“I don’t really know anything about medicine,” you said. “But… I do know Joel. And I don’t knot that there’s anything that can keep him from taking care of the people he loves. And I know he knows Ellie needs him, you need him. And I…” your voice cracked. “I need him. He’s strong. He can pull through.” 

She nodded and slowly, gently, rested her head on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. But, eventually, you had to take a breath and she stayed there beside you, keeping vigil over the man who had become her guardian. 

Savvy ended up staying until after dark. Ellie came back only about an hour and a half after she left, bringing some clothes for you. You immediately put on the shirt, pressing your nose to the collar and breathing in Joel’s scent. She told you then that Savvy hadn’t left the clinic since you’d come in, always at your bedside, nearly ripping off the doctors’ heads when they dared suggest that she go home and get some rest. 

Ellie got her to go home that evening, though, after she gave you a delicate hug that, you thought, might be one of the best ones you’d ever gotten. Dr. Livingston wanted to keep you there for another few days, not something you were going to argue with since you weren’t about to leave while Joel was still there, anyway. She did make you move back to the other room and you gave up the fight quickly, waiting until you heard her leave for the night before going back across the hall, anyway. It was tricky, walking on your own when you were still healing, but you made it without any more blood leaking from you. You pulled your chair close to Joel and looked him over, tracing one finger over the soft skin of his cheek. He still looked so unnatural in this position, so unlike himself. You ran your fingers through his hair, arranging it just so, before you gently took his hands and put them at the base of his chest, one on top of the other. Not quite right, but better. It felt like his body was more his that way. 

“I’m here, Joel,” you said quietly, wanting more than anything to be able to curl up in his lap. “I’m here.” 

You sat on the floor next to the bed - not able to get comfortable enough in the chair to doze off - and rested your head on the mattress near his hip. This wasn’t exactly ideal, either, your stitches itching and pulling as you settled in, but you didn’t care. You had to be close to Joel. Some pain was worth that. 

The next day, you were shaken awake by a frustrated Dr. Palmer who was taking over so Dr. Livingston could get some rest. 

“You are bound and determined to be your own worst enemy,” she muttered, forcing you back to your own bed. She checked you over, reluctantly told you that you were healing well with no sign of infection. The second her back was turned, you were back in Joel’s room. 

Ellie, Tommy and Maria came by again, all of you sitting in near silence, watching Joel, waiting for him to do something - anything - to indicate that he was still in there. 

The next day was less quiet. You were in your usual position in the seat by the head of Joel’s bed when Tommy and Ellie started getting into it. It didn’t sound like a new argument and, you realized, the bickering you’d been only vaguely aware of as you regained consciousness was probably them. 

“I’m not going to sit around here and fucking wait forever,” Ellie snapped. “I’m going out there, I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them.” 

“We need to wait,” Tommy said, voice strained. Ellie didn’t seem to care. 

“Wait for them to get further and further away?” She snapped. “Wait for them to come back with more people? No, it’s too big of a fucking risk. I’m going out there.” 

“Need to wait until I can go with you,” Tommy snapped. “Need to wait until we know…” 

Tommy’s voice trailed off. 

“Until we know what?” Ellie demanded. “Until we know whether or not they successfully murdered him? No, fuck that, I’m going to beat the shit out of her with a goddamn golf club, make her fucking feel it…” 

“No, you won’t,” you cut her off. 

“I won’t?” She asked, brows raised, almost daring you to argue with her. “You’re not my fucking mom, Bambi, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I do or don’t get to do.” 

“You ever killed anyone, kid?” You asked, chin resting on your fist as you watched her. She just blinked at you for a moment. “And I mean people. Real people, not infected.” 

“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was less sharp. “Yeah, I have. Two.” 

“Alright,” you replied. “You torture them? You like killing them?” 

She was silent and just looked at her feet.

“That’s what I thought,” you looked back to Joel. “You’re not going after shit, kid…”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” 

“You’re his kid,” you shot her a glare before looking back at Joel. “And he wouldn’t want you murdering and torturing people for him.”

“But…” 

“No,” you said. “If… If he… If someone needs to handle it, it will be me and Tommy. We can take them and we can make it hurt. You’ll stay here. Not gonna just let you turn into a killer for him, he’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive either of us. One of the last things he said to me was to look out for you and you better goddamn well believe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You’re not going any damn place.” 

She stormed out but Savvy came that evening. She brought a deck of cards and the two of you played Go Fish like you used to when she was little. She told you Ellie was cooling off but she thought she’d be OK. 

“I don’t blame her,” she said, arranging some cards in her hand. “If someone did that to you, I’d want to kill them, too.” 

You looked at her for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you said gently. She looked at you over the cards, skeptical. “I mean it. You hear that something bad happened to me, you take it and move on. Don’t hurt yourself thinking that will fix it. It would only make it worse.” 

The day after that, Ellie brought you your guitar. It made Dr. Palmer look nervous but you promised to take it easy and that music was how you relaxed. 

“Just don’t get all worked up and play Freebird,” she muttered, leaving you alone with Joel and your instrument. 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with Freebird?” You asked a silent Joel as you delicately arranged the guitar on your lap, dodging the stitches in your stomach and leg as you did. “There’s better shit out there…” 

You played for him whatever came to mind. The song you’d written for him kept cropping up. So did the songs you’d played with him, slower and gentler things that you tried to pull from memory, even Take on Me because it got stuck in your head. 

“Do you think he can hear me?” You asked Dr. Palmer that afternoon. 

She stepped back from him and sighed for a moment, looking at you as though she were going to gauge her answer around your demeanor. 

“No one knows for sure,” she said eventually. “But… if he could hear anybody, I think it would be you.”

By the end of the second day with your guitar, your whole body was sore and tired but you didn’t move to go back to your own room. Both doctors had given up on forcing you. You nearly ripped their heads off when they suggested you go to your house for a day or two, try to get some real rest. It was bad enough that they’d surrendered to your stubborn need to be where you could see Joel at all times, no longer willing to fight over what they thought was better for you. 

It was quiet, dark. You weren’t entirely sure what time it was but you thought everyone in town besides those on watch were at home. You were as close to home as you got now, home could only be where Joel was. You weren’t sure how to find home without him now. 

You played the song you’d written for him one more time, soft and slow, before propping the guitar against the wall and sitting delicately on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb him. You adjusted his arms a bit, putting them where you knew he would rest them if he could move them on his own. You gently brushed his hair back. His patchy beard was getting long in spots and you wondered if Ellie could bring scissors and a razor the next time she came so you could trim it for him, keep it how he liked. You drew the shirt of his you wore tighter to yourself and just looked at him for a moment. He was so beautiful, even like this. You needed him so badly, needed him to be OK. You needed to be able to wake up next to him again, kiss him on your way out the door again, make love to him again. He couldn’t be gone, not now. Not like this.

“Joel,” you said softly, barely even a whisper. “I know… I know I should probably tell you that if you need to go, it’s OK, that we’ll be OK but… I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to do this without you, I don’t want to do this without you. I need you, I’m not sure I can be a real person without you. If you’re already gone then… then knowing you was one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m thankful for every goddamn second of it. But if you’re still there, if you can hear me… I need you to come back to me, Joel. Just… please. Don’t leave me, don’t leave the girls, I just… I will do whatever you want, just stay. Just come back to me. Please.” 

He was still below your touch but you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, anyway, his skin soft and warm. A tear slipped from your eyelash and fell to his cheek but you didn’t move to wipe it away. You had the odd thought that maybe he would absorb it, that his skin would soak up your salt and your sadness and then, even if he didn’t come back, at least he’d have part of you in him when you put him in the ground. You wondered if you’d be able to join him. You slid off the bed and tucked your legs up against yourself, crossing your arms atop the mattress and resting your head there, drifting off to the sound of his breathing. 

***

All Joel really knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft. Warm and soft and kinder than where he’d been before, though the memory of just before was fuzzy. He remembered you, waking up with you, being inside of you, kissing you goodbye. He remembered watching Ellie ride off with her friend for their patrol. He remembered laughing with his brother about something but didn’t remember what. Everything after that was a haze of blood and pain. 

But he was warm now, somewhere that was familiar but he was having a hard time placing it. Grass and trees and a park bench that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, the sound of birds and cicadas on the air. But there were no other people. None that he could see, anyway. 

He heard voices now and then. There were some he knew were familiar but he couldn’t quite place. Others he’d have known anywhere. You, Ellie, Savvy, Tommy, Maria. It was a haze, he could make out the tones and the melodies of your speech but not the words. But that was OK. He knew all of you were close and that was enough. 

There was music, too. He would have recognized your playing from anywhere but it still seemed so obvious from wherever he was. But your music sounded sad, some kind of longing in it that wasn’t there when you usually played for him. He wanted to fix it, wanted to come from wherever he was and make it better. He just wasn’t sure that he could. But he kept hearing the song you made for him. That song was clearer than any other, so present he almost thought it was the version of it you’d recorded for him. But it wasn’t followed by the words he’d come to know so well in the months without you, the ones you’d added to the end of the tape that he listened to every night since you left. Every night until the one you came back to him. 

Come back to me, Joel. 

“Dad?” 

Joel looked around for a moment, heart pounding. He knew that voice, had heard it inside his head so many times through the years. But never like this, never this close. And then Sarah was in front of him, her curls a halo around her head, skin almost glowing in the golden sun. 

“Baby girl.” 

He realized where he knew this place from. It was a park in Austin that he took her to all the time when she was a little girl. The skyline was at his back if he could turn to face it, a playground down the hill to the right. She’d loved the open field, though. She loved being able to just run and run and run with nothing to hold her back. He tried to make himself get to his feet but he couldn’t. She just smiled. It was warm, gentle but more knowing than he’d remembered it being. But then, maybe he’d forgotten. Because otherwise, she looked exactly the same as the last time Joel had seen her, down to the clothes. Except her purple shirt wasn’t bloodstained now, her ankle wasn’t hurt. She was whole, healthy, the way she always should have been.

“Long time no see,” she sat beside him on the bench and he was able to reach her then. He reached for her slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to worry. She reached back, putting her arms around his neck. He held her, close and tight. She was warm and soft but the heat wasn’t coming from her. Instead it was like she was part of the place where he was, warm like the sun. She pulled back from him before too long but left a delicate hand on his knee. He tried to memorize her, make sure he knew the precise constellations of her freckles and the way her lashes framed her eyes. She looked him over and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “You’re getting old, old man.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, still not sure what to say to her. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you,” she was still smiling but it was sadder now. “A lot.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice wet. “So, so much. You have no idea how much…” 

“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen. You’ve been through a lot, Dad. So much. I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have helped you.” 

“That’s not your job…” 

“I know,” she said again. “But I still wanted to.” 

“How are you?” He asked. “I want to know everything, everything…” 

“I’ve been good,” she smiled. “I met your friend Tess. I like her. I liked her before, too, but even more now. She’s a lot like you, I’m glad you had her.” 

“How…” 

“Dad, I would love to tell you everything,” she cut him off. “But we don’t have time.” 

He frowned. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we didn’t get enough time before, but we should now, we…” 

“We will,” she reached out and took his hands. “Eventually. But not yet. You’ve gotten old, old man, but not old enough. You’re not supposed to be here yet. You still have a lot to do. You have people who need you, people who love you. They really, really love you, Dad. You need to go back for them. You’ve been here long enough.” 

Don’t leave me.

He looked up, looking for where your voice was coming from. Sarah just smiled. 

“She needs you,” she said. “And you need her.” 

She was right. He could feel that in every inch of him. He wanted to be next to you, wanted the life that he could have with you that had been so close when he’d left Jackson that morning. Just you and him and your girls. He wanted it so much it hurt. But how could he leave his daughter? His baby girl, the first baby girl he’d held, the first one he’d failed. How could he leave her again?

“Baby girl, I love them, too but I can’t just leave you here alone…” 

She smiled gently. 

“I’m not alone, Dad. And it’s OK if I’m not your whole world anymore,” she gave his leg a squeeze. “It’s OK if you have another purpose. I want you to be happy. Her, Ellie, Savvy… they make you happy. They’re your purpose now. You deserve that. Go be happy. I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll have time then, too. I promise.” 

Just stay. 

“Go be with them, Dad,” she said. “Go be happy. We’ll be together when it’s time.” 

Just come back to me.

“I love you so much, Sarah,” he said, reaching out and holding her face in his hand. “So, so much.” 

Please. 

“I know,” she smiled. “And I love you too.” 

There was a wet spot on his cheek but he wasn’t crying. He frowned, touching his skin there, a tear clinging to his finger when he pulled it away. The place he was glowed brighter. Sarah’s face was somehow further away though neither of them had moved. He could feel himself fading from here, going back to where he was before. Part of him hurt with that, clinging to Sarah so hard that it seemed as though he was going to leave that part of him behind. But the rest of him was bringing him back, desperate to get to you, be beside you. That’s where he was supposed to be. He knew that now. He was always supposed to live. He was always supposed to flinch. He was always supposed to find you. 

“I’ll see you around,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

Everything hurt. 

It was sudden and sharp, the place where he was abruptly dark and cold. He wasn’t sure he could move much, every part of him impossibly heavy. But he forced his eyes open, at least. He was flat on his back and in a bed. It took him a moment to realize where, but the fact that there was medical equipment near his head narrowed it down. He heard a soft, sleepy sound and forced himself to lift his head enough to look for it. It didn’t take him long to find you there, head resting near his waist. He smiled to himself. Part of him was just relieved that he hadn’t dreamed you coming back to him, relieved that you’d want anything to do with him at all now. 

He forced his arm to move, the limb unnaturally clunky, every motion pulling and tugging on damaged skin but he didn’t really care. He rested a hand on your head, smoothing your hair down, thumb brushing against your forehead. You startled and jerked awake, sitting up quickly and blinking sleep from your eyes. His hand fell to your arm when you did and looked around for a moment before your eyes fell on him, the glow of the moon on the snow illuminating your face in the dark. You frowned for a moment, your brows knitting together. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel managed, his voice dry and cracking. 

“Joel!” You scrambled to your feet, taking his hand and clinging to it as you did. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re…” 

“I’m alright, baby,” he said gently. You sank slowly onto the bed at his waist, clutching onto his hand. “You OK?” 

“I’m OK,” you nodded quickly, your voice wet. “Tommy’s OK, Ellie’s OK, we’re all OK. I was so afraid, Joel. I was so afraid. I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you…” 

“I know,” he winced as he reached the hand you weren’t latched onto over to cup your face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Wasn’t tryin’ to go anywhere…” 

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles before holding his arm to your chest, clinging to it like a child does to a security blanket. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him up an down. “I can go wake up a doctor and…” 

“M’fine sweetheart,” he said, brushing a thumb over the arch of your cheekbone. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere, need you close. Just…” He did his best to shift himself so he wasn’t in the middle of the bed, wincing as he did. “Just be here. Let me hold you, OK?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“You won’t,” he said gently. “Need to feel you. Just stay with me, baby. Please.” 

You sniffed but nodded before you moved gingerly to slip into bed beside him. You lay your head gently on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. It took a moment but he felt you relax against him, body molding to his own. He turned his head enough to brush his lips against your forehead. 

“I can’t lose you, Joel,” you said softly. “I can’t, I need you to stay.” 

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding you as close as he could, everywhere your body met his a welcome distraction from the pain. “Not going anywhere.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Yeah, sorry, I can't bring myself to kill Joel lol I love him too much, I need to let him have all the beautiful things he deserves to have.

Thank you so so much for being so patient with this chapter. I promise, I didn't intend to leave you hanging for weeks on end and I feel so bad that I did. Thank you for still reading and for being here. I feel like I've messed up a lot on how I've handled this fic lately - between not understanding how many folks didn't know the TLOU2 stuff and not giving proper warning and then posting that last chapter and not having this one lined up and ready to go - so thank you for not ditching me and this fic. It really does mean so much that you spend your time here with these characters.

Thank you again ❤️ Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

[moonlit-positivity]

Lesser known effects of trauma that don't ever get acknowledged

Cw: mentions of csa, sa, despair, depression, & generally dark content that some may find hard to read. Please interact & read with care.

"bed rotting" (which I hear is gaining attention on TikTok these days) ie the process of becoming bedridden due to your body being stuck in freeze response (paralyzed w fear, too scared to move)

Needing to cut your hair bc it keeps getting matted down, because you can't shower or wash it or keep up with it anymore

Gaining weight (i gained over 200lbs in a year), losing all the clothes you once fit in, and feeling guilty when all you see everywhere all the time is fat shaming

Losing weight (and subsequently all your clothes start falling off 😭) eating disorders and struggling with body image

Existing off of God knows what at this point. Is that milk spoiled? Yeah but how many days is it spoiled? Mmm, nah, nevermind, I'll just eat air.

Losing track of time. Losing months to years of time because of extreme dissociation, fatigue, stress, and the inability to move

Brain & body "shut down" or go into sleep mode for long periods of time

Self hygiene becomes non existent. Showering? Brushing teeth? Changing clothes? Don't know her.

House cleaning becomes non existent. "If It's Not In The Vacinity, It's Not Getting Done."

Lying to everyone about what's going on because it's easier than telling the truth

Not being comfortable with having your pictures taken, go through a phase where you destroy any evidence you ever existed anywhere at all

Isolating & ghosting all ur friends periodically to make sure they're not gonna leave you (lol makes perfect sense, if you know you know)

Animal upkeep goes to shit. Litter box goes neglected for long periods of time.

Noise & light sensitivity goes haywire. Noise & light triggers get amplified especially once you start to feel any sense of "safety" and start decompressing. An alarm goes off, the stove beeps, the cat meows, anything that makes even the slightest noise in the foreground and you have a whole ass panic attack and find yourself in bed for the rest of the day

Agoraphobia. You never go outside ever again. Too much paranoia, too many eyes staring at you, too many reasons to panic and stay in bed

Life becomes so non existent that the only thing that matters is whatever you're currently doing to cope & survive. If you're addicted to something, well, it's a fucking miracle you even wake up anymore

Couch surfing and inevitable homelessness when people get tired of housing you. Having to confront the way society frames government assistance as "the lazy man's income" & hope disability goes through. Which it won't. Wait-lists out the ass, section 8 takes 5 years or more to kick in. Disability doesn't even go through bc they always deny the first time you apply. The process is littered with appeals and court dates and what the fuck, I can't even get out of bed. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Leaning into your despair because, despite what everyone on social media will shout at you about resilience and "not allowing yourself to fall into despair," they will never understand that concept that despair is there for a reason too. Youre looking at someone who was raped at 5 years old and youre telling them to "stay positive." Yeah okay.

The anger, the bitterness, the resentment at the world & everyone in it. The cold blooded urge for revenge & justice. Especially when there's nothing you can do about the fact that your abusers are still free to live and roam this world as they please.

Not being able to "talk about it." Not being able to "trust a safe space." That's bullshit. I was beat and abused my whole life, what the fuck you mean "safe space?" The absolute mind fuckery that you have to sit with and undo and learn the fact that they fucking lied to you. It is enough to kill you.

Everything you learn in therapy just pisses you off even more because why the fuck wasn't there someone there as a kid to teach you this shit???? Why the fuck do I have to learn this as an adult???? Where was this when I actually fucking needed it????

Nothing helps. Nothing soothes, because there is no soothing. There is only pain. It's like ripping your skin off.

Losing everything. Losing all your friends. Losing all your "cool status" points. Losing your reputation. Losing all the things that once brought you great joy and passion. There is nothing anymore. Pain and isolation and desolation and despair.

Learning that no one can relate. Except that's not entirely true at all. People can relate. It's just such a stigmatized topic that no one talks about it out loud, because no one else in society really gets it.

[ax-y10]

✮ knock ✮

in which- you have a fear of showing too much of your own skin due to past dreams and coincidences, but wilbur is there to help.

chapter info- mentions of private areas, mentions of fears, descriptions of nudity, descriptions of past situations, just a vent fic essentially

a/n- i made this as a sort of vent/coping mechanism because i needed to get this out somewhere to make myself feel better so here you go

pronouns- none (you/yours)

masterlist-

you're sat in your boyfriend's bedroom, a frown present on your face and hot tears running down your face. maybe this wasn't worth getting so worked up about but it reminded you too much of years ago.

when you were in grade five, you'd had a dream where you were naked at school, beginning your fear of being judged by everyone. a year later in grade six, you had another dream about being naked at school, and that heightened your fear, if not hatched your fear of showing skin.

to make things worse, you've had multiple occasions where someone you know, whether it be family or close friends, has walked in on you changing, ultimately making your fear of showing skin ten times worse.

you'd swear that you would rather die than show skin to anyone in close relation to you. if you had to do one thing before you died, showing skin was the last on that list. it was your last resort, barely that. showing skin was never an option for you.

you'd been pressured by beauty standards, peer pressure, and wanting to seem more confident that once you did finally show a tiny bit of skin, it all went haywire, and every girl you walked past gave you weird stares or even just laughed at you as you walked past. you were never and never will be known for showing skin. you'll always be known as the girl who has self-esteem issues, hates showing skin. the amount of times you've been called a pick-me for the way you dress has you fuming at the statement.

and now, your boyfriend accidentally walking in on you showering has sent you back into a horrible spiral of worries and concerns and fears, breaking down into hysterics on his bed.

did wilbur know you were sobbing in his bedroom? no. he was in the kitchen cooking dinner for you both. were you desperately trying to calm yourself down without wilbur's help? yes, and it sure as hell wouldn't work with him not there.

"darling?" his voice from the other side of the door startled you enough to break you out of whatever bad thoughts were strangling your head.

"i have dinner," he'd state, before the handle of the door slowly starts turning.

"no! not yet. give me a second!" you yelled from his bed, scurrying into his bathroom and throwing on one of his sweaters he'd left in there for you.

it was silent. at least on the outside of his room. inside however? your mental rambling had started back up again and was attacking you.

a minute passed. two minutes passed. three minutes passed. five minutes passe-

"sweetheart, i'm gonna come in. something's wrong,"

his large figure in the doorway was inching it's way towards you, causing you to move back with each of his steps.

"oh, my love, what's wrong?" fuck. he'd caught on.

you were silent. all your communication skills were out the window.

"c'mere" his voice soft, calm, and collected rang through your ears.

and before you could blink, your head was nuzzled in his neck, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you clung to him, you legs bent uncomfortably underneath you, and your tears soaking into his shoulder.

he was happy to stay there all night if you needed, happy to let you cry it out, happy to listen, happy to talk. as long as you were okay.

"knock before you walk into the bathroom if i'm in there, please?"

"no problem, darling. have some pasta and rest easy and you can talk about it more if needed when you wake up, alright?" he paused, took a deep breath, and continued., "i'm right here, always. i'll stay with you tonight, okay? i love you,"

and all you can remember was the warmth of his arms before you fell asleep.

[dem0nic-darling]

Interesting Solution (Keigo x AFABReader) 18+

18+ CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning- Unprotected sex, filmed sex, praise, dirty talk, creampie, rough sex, squirting

Synopsis: After a video of you and Hawks having sex is leaked Keigo decides that the best way to respond is to make and post a video yourselves.

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

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you checked your appearance in the mirror, admiring the way the lacy red lingerie hugged your curves so perfectly.

When Keigo had first proposed the idea to film and upload a porn video of the two of you, you had thought the stress from the scandal had finally gotten to him. The two of you had spent the past several days avoiding going out into public after someone had somehow gotten footage of the two of your having sex in his office and uploaded it to several porn sites. The Commission had gotten it taken down as soon as they learned about it, the problem was every time it was got taken down it would immediately be re-uploaded and the user who uploaded it was untraceable. It was certainly not the way you had wanted your relationship with Keigo to be made public.

The original video was leaked for the sole purpose of humiliating the both of you, so here you and Keigo were proving their failure by filming a video of your own. Despite Keigo's constant reassurance you were still a bit nervous about the repercussions, which led you to fighting against anxiety and insecurities in the bathroom.

"You doing ok in there, pretty bird?" Keigo asked through the door, with a small knock to announce he was coming in. He whistled at your appearance, admiring the way the lingerie complimented your body. "Damn you look sexy~" He said, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

"You ready?" The look of hesitation the flashed across your face had him tilting your head back to meet his gaze. "We don't have to do this, you know?" His concern and tenderness allowed you to shake away your worries. "I'm fine, I'm just a little nervous is all." He raised his eyebrow. "You sure?" You gave him a soft smile and kissed his chin, the stubble tickling your lips. "I'm sure, besides I'd hate to be the one to ruin this cocky bastard image you've created for yourself." Keigo laughed and scooped you into his arms, carrying you over to your shared bed. "The world wouldn't be able to cope with such a tragedy." He cut off your laugh with a passionate kiss, pinning your body to the bed.

After a few minutes of the kiss, which left your lips bruised, Keigo finally pulled away to give the both of you a chance to breath. "You do realize we're not filming yet?" You teased, earning a smirk and quick peck from him. "I'll let you have that one for free since you dressed up all pretty for me." You rolled your eyes with a huff, your eyes trailing over every camera in the room. "It's just so we can get several different angles, though I'm sure you'll look sexy in every one of them." He said, ignoring your questioning gaze. "I think you're a little too prepared for someone who just came up with the idea yesterday." Keigo's feathers briefly flittered at your statement, something he instinctually did whenever he was nervous.

"Whatever, just turn the cameras on so we can fuck already." You whined, too horny to care about the details. "So needy" Keigo laughed, crawling over you and activating the camera's with a remote. Keigo immediately captured your lips in another passionate kiss, flipping the two of you over so you were the one on top.

Pushing your thong to the side he rubbed his fingers between your pussy lips. "Such a wet pussy, so ready to ride my dick~" Keigo delivered a light slap to ass, his cock twitching at the way the fat jiggled against the palm of his hand. "Take these off for me." He demanded, tugging at the thong and unclipping the bra. He watched with lust clouded eyes as you removed the lingerie, eagerly shoving down his boxers to release his throbbing cock as you did. "Fuck look at you sexy girl, ready for me to impale you on this thick cock?~" You responded with a shy nod only to receive a rough slap on your bare ass. "Answer me properly, do you want me to stuff that tight cunt?" You whimpered, biting back the embarrassment. "Please Hawks~ I need your cock so bad, please fill up my slutty pussy and pump it full with your cum~" Keigo groaned, pulling your hips to hover over his meaty raw cock. "That's it sexy girl, take this fat cock like the slut you are!" You shrieked as he forced you down onto his entire girthy shaft, filling you just like you had begged for. He grunted at the way your pussy swallowed his inches, the plush walls wrapping snugly around his sizable dick.

After taking a brief moment to let you adjust to considerable size Keigo started to buck into you with powerful and aggressive thrusts. "Fuck, I love this tight cunt, god it milks my cock perfectly-Oh fuck!" You began to bounce on his cock, meeting his harsh thrusts that hammered at your cervix and stimulated all the sweet spots that left you seeing stars.

Keigo began to massage your sensitive nub, hissing as you dragged your nails down his chest because of the unexpected extra stimulation. "God, baby bird, the way your pussy is devouring my cock is driving me insane-shit!" Your pussy fluttered around his cock, at the feeling of him lightly pinching your clit. "Haw... ah Hawwkkss...plea..pleaasseee ahh~" You were teetering on the edge of your climax, ecstasy just barely out of reach. "Does my slutty girl need to cum?" Keigo teased, pulling his thumb away from your swollen nub. Your eyes watered from the loss of the stimulation, desperate for release. "Don't cry baby bird, I'll give you what you need."

He used one of his feathers to stroke your clit, pulling and squeezing your perky nipples between his rough fingers. You tossed your head back at the sensation, your eyes rolling back into your skull as pleasure raked over your body. "That's it pretty bird squirt all over this cock~" Your body shuddered in ecstasy as your fluids coated Keigo's abs. "Oh fuck, that's it sexy...shit I'm gonna stuff this cunt so good~"

His harsh pace turned animalistic, rutting into you frantically, overtaken with the need to flood your tight pussy with his seed. In your fucked out state, still panting and recovering from orgasm, you grabbed onto his wings for purchase. Keigo let out a string of groans, tightly gripping onto your hips as he held you down on his twitching cock, the bulbous head pressing into your bruised and sore cervix while his strong grip prevented you from moving away. He nuzzled into you neck as he emptied his heavy load inside you, letting out a chirp of satisfaction at the way your greedy pussy swallowed his cum. "Shit pretty bird, take that cum...oh fuck that wombs just stuffed with my seed ain't she? Shiiittt!~" With one final shallow thrust he pulled his softening cock out of your sensitive pussy, stuffing the creamy cum the dribbled from it back in with his fingers.

Tired and cock drunk you collapsed on his chest, watching him fumble for the camera's remote through hooded eyes. He rubbed your back and captured your lips in a sloppy and passionate kiss.

After coming down from his high he walked over to the bathroom and filled the tub with water, pouring in some of your favorite bath salts. After the bath was ready he carried your sweaty and worn out body over to it and gently laid you inside with a kiss to your forehead and the back of your hand. "You relax pretty bird, I'll take care of the rest." You hummed in response, sinking into the warm water and inhaling the scent of the bath salts. Keigo smiled before returning to the bedroom and pulling out his computer.

By the time your had finished your bath and walked out wrapped in a fluffy towel he had already edited the video and uploaded it to several porn sites and was now replacing the sheets and blankets for the bed. You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek as thanks and slipped on a pair of panties, throwing one of Keigo's shirts over your head before joining him in the freshly made bed. "You enjoy your bath pretty bird?" You hummed, snuggling into his bare chest while he wrapped a muscled arm around your body. Thinking of a way to convince you to do more videos in the future.

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

Dabi desperately fisted his cock to the video Hawks had uploaded titled 'Enjoy The Show Bastards. When he had leaked a video of you and Hawks fucking he had no idea this would be the outcome, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He may not have succeeded in humiliating you and Hawks, but at least he got some new fap material out of it. He was tempted to release another porn video of the two of you in hopes it would have the same erotic results.

[maddgical-boy]

maladaptive/immersive daydreaming ask game! (*¯︶¯*).｡o○O☁️

send in a number (or multiple) and if you feel like it, an accompanying paracosm/para!

(apologies for how wordy these are. i am not a man known for my brevity)

reblog and have fun with these! (and if you reblog this or send me an ask, i'll send you one too)

how long have you been daydreaming for? (bonus if you can remember: what was your first daydream scenario/paracosm?)

if your paracosm had a popular fandom, what do you think it'd be like?

do you have any paracosms that aren't huge, but that you fall back on when The Time Is Right™️?

WOULD YOU RATHER: have your daydreams projected onto a screen attached to your head at all times OR be entirely unable to daydream ever again for the rest of your life?

what para of yours is most like you? self inserts and paraselves don't count!

how did you come up with your paras' names? did they come to you randomly or did you spend hours researching name websites?

imagine your paras have at least a basic knowledge of driving (or even just like, cars). can they parallel park? (bonus points if you explain it like in this post)

do you do extensive worldbuilding for your paracosms? if you do, what are some of your favorite elements?

if your paras found out you were their creator, how would they react?

if you have a self insert/paraself, how similar are they to you?

is there any time of the day where you can't/don't daydream?

are your daydreams linear and structured, or do you jump all over the place?

what's a song you've been daydreaming to lately, and what's your favorite moment in said daydream?

do your paras age with you, or are their ages static? does it feel weird to be older than a para you were previously the same age as?

if you had the opportunity to leave this world and live in your paracosm forever, would you? why or why not?

(if you have multiple) which paracosm of yours is most grounded in reality? which is most fantastical?

make one of those "[blank] spoilers without context" memes for your paracosms. then explain it (or don't :))

who is your second favorite para, and why aren't they your favorite?

what would your paras' typing styles be like? do they use lots of emojis? sign off each text like a letter? type with lots of weird spaces and ellipses?

do you move a lot when daydreaming, and if so, in what ways?

have you ever wanted to make a piece of media of your paracosm (comic, animation, visual novel, novel, tv show, etc.)? what are elements that would be apart of it?

when you actively want to start daydreaming, what is your mind's process? do you tune back in like it's a tv show? flip through imaginary files? let it come naturally?

do you ever daydream about yourself (not a self insert, just you)?

do you have any two paras that are polar opposites to one another? (they don't even have to exist in the same universe, just in general)

what para would you absolutely hate in real life?

FREEBIE! drop some long-winded lore or some memes or whatever you want ^▽^

when you experience a daydream block or crash, what are things you do to try and fix it? (or ways you cope. lmao i get it)

for fictparacosms, do your daydreams affect how you perceive the media and/or the fandom?

if you ever write down things about your daydreams (truly anything at all — notes, dialogues, descriptions, etc), share a random snippet with no context.

if your paras had madd/daydreamed immersively, what would they daydream about?

for any pairings (romantic, platonic, familial, whatever), what is the dynamic between your paras like?

if you could make a bingo of common elements of your daydreams (paracosm-specific or not), what would be on some of the squares?

if you have tried to make your paras in character makers (picrew, meiker, etc), what is an aspect of your para that these makers never/rarely have?

are your daydreams clear in your mind's eye?

if you have multiple paracosms, what would it be like if they had a crossover?

[dwindlinghaze]

I need peter fluff. like i need reader to be having a bad day and lashing out at peter and him not getting mad and just comforting her<3

best

(peter parker x reader)

contents: fluff, unintentionally mean reader, peter just being really kind and hearted.

a/n: oh how i miss writing for him :( hope u enjoyed this anon!! tysm for requesting 🫧🫧🤍

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

everyone has bad days. awful, exhausting, horrible days. sometimes they have a way to cope with it too. you tried though. tried to keep the boiling emotions under your ribcage, trying so hard not to let your bad mood ruins your boyfriend's beautiful day.

peter was the best. he was the best to you. but right now, just the mere shuffles of his legs sends distress through your veins.

trying to keep your calm, you drank you water. gulping it loudly with a sour face in hopes of him understanding what you're trying to imply.

he didn't look up from his magazines. the pages turned along with an ear scratching sound.

"ow, i just gave myself a paper cut!" peter shrieked, holding his index finger in front of his face and yours.

"you're not five, it'll heal," you huffed. in usual days, you would help him even with the smallest things.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong! you just got a paper cut wow big deal. the world has fallen off its axis and we're spinning in the opposite direction!"

"love-"

"no stop! that co-worker at my workplace took a day off this week so i had to replace her for seven days, meaning that i have to work double while still having the same paycheque as the others. eloise kept asking me about the presentation that we're going to have on monday even though i've said it more than a million times that i will finish it before friday. and the thing is, she is not helping me with it! my professor just assigned two more additional assignments for me this week. my shoes got dirt on the mud. i dropped our matching bracelets on the gutter because some kids were running around. wendy asked me to order pizza for the both of us while i was catching up on my work. i ordered it and when i finished, i came outside to only see that she left nothing for me. absolutely nothing, not even a crumb! a paper cut is the least harmful thing right now. i'd trade all of this for a paper cut, stop whining about your microscopic problem."

you were now crying, the weight of this crushing your spine and shoulders. peter was there. of course he is.

he caressed your arms, massaging them slowly as he let you cry, gently bringing your head to his shoulder.

"hey," he whispered, "i'll help you with everything okay. only if you let me."

"i can't. all of that is my responsibility. i'm not going to pass on a weight to you."

"we're together for a reason. whatever you're feeling, i feel them too. whatever's weighing you down, i'll come and help lighten them up."

"sorry for lashing on you," you sniffed, looking at him wistfully.

"no no. you really needed that right? i know," he spoke as he kissed your nose softly. "i can't really help you with your job but i'm going to help you make the presentation, and i'll do the assignment for you, i can get you new shoes or clean them up, i'll get us new matching bracelets, i'll order us both pizzas and i won't eat them all."

"pete, no you can't-"

"remember what i said? if something's weighing you down, i'm here to lighten them up," he gave you the loveliest smile the world has ever known.

"thank you, love. i'm so sorry, let me put a bandaid on your finger, come!" you stood up.

"it'll heal," he laughed.

"i just want to help you back as a way to thank you," you smiled.

[000marie198]

There are way too many things to analyze in this scene!

First of all, I couldn't help but notice how Nine hid away his strengths and capabilities. He internally loves and enjoys a little gloating and all but when he senses it could have a consequence, he hides it away. The same way he tends to hide his tails! The same way he refuses to fly in front of others (the only times we've seen him fly is either in front of only Sonic or to save Sonic. And just once when they were escaping from the Egg Forcers back in Escape from New Yoke City. He remained cautious throughout afterwards to not fly in front of the Resistance again.) Anyways, here in the beginning of this scene, he hides away what he can do bcoz a part of him has figured out that letting Eggman learn anymore of his capabilities could lead to a consequence, he just doesn't know what it could be.

"You think I have vision and imagination?"

There is scepticism in his voice, not hope or confidence or smugness. He knows what he can do and he is trying to hide it.

.....

Secondly, using Nine's intellect against him in a tricky way. It seems Mr Dr Eggman - ugh, this name is a mouthful, I'll just refer to him as Eggman - it seems Eggman's skills lie much more in manipulation tactics than previously presumed. He's also using the fox's insecurities to hit him where it hurts.

......

Moving on to the third thing- Nine, when his deepest insecurities were being pointed out, we could see in his eyes that the words were having an effect on him. He's a traumatized kid still and just because he had learned to fight back doesn't mean he still can't get hurt. He did get hurt in this scene.

But then he blinked and instantly composed himself and smirked back. An act. Both a coping mechanism and a method to fight back. Hide your vulnerabilities, hide and pretend to be unaffected by what hurts you so the other wouldn't succeed, so the other wouldn't keep it up. Nine did just that. He diverted what was thrown at him and turned it around.

"I'm pathetic? You're the ones with unlimited power and all you can think to do is build a bigger robot."

A deflected strike back and criticism on the other instead of falling on defending himself cuz that would've both implied he felt insecure and would've revealed his capabilities. That was one psychological attack he dealt against, which indicates he might've suffered from it in his life before (no wonder he's so bitter about the city and its inhabitants).

.....

Moving on, he clearly has as much confidence in Sonic as Tails often does, like a brother, that's pretty sweet. He has full confidence and belief that the council can't beat Sonic and he feels both smug and happy about it. He's gotten attached to the hedgehog just as much.

Whatever his goals are, whatever his end motives will be, a part of him has genuinely accepted Sonic as his kin and did so long ago, right when he asked Sonic, "What else did we do?" It's clear from analysing his character in this scene that Nine never willingly shows any of his insecurities to anyone, much less vulnerabilities. He is never open with others but in that moment, he consciously made the decision to be vulnerable with the hedgehog, to let some hope and yearning take over him in that moment. He trusted Sonic. He still cares about the other just as much.

......

And finally, that one thing that happened to poor Tails in SA2 just happened to Nine. Even the reaction is the same! Tails accidentally revealed that Sonic had the fake Emerald, Nine accidentally revealed how to be on the same level as Sonic. And both times, Eggman manipulated his way through it to get confirmation from the fox. Which is both kinda regretful and funny. I like how they sneaked in that easter egg.

Also, the way he panicked and worried and blamed himself right afterwards he cares about his friend so much! Ufhevxjfjtjfjfjjgj

[brain-n-body-in-disarray]

I'm fed up.

I've seen another of these posts where they say "high functioning" ND and autists have it "good", or whatever.

Being "high functioning" doesn't make it less of a struggle. Just a different kind of struggle.

I'm "supposed" to be better at life if my symptoms are "lesser", if I'm abled to mask so well, right?

Wrong.

I'm just in an eternal loop of burn-out and anxiety.

By being categorised "high functioning", by being unseen, I fell through the cracks. That means I didn't get any help, I was on my own. I'm expected to be a successful, self-reliant adult and I'm clearly not. I'm a mess.

I'm invisible. That's no cool super-power, believe me.

People just asks me "what's wrong with you?" but expects me to be like them. "High functioning" is bullshit. That's not a grocery lists of symptoms you have to check. That's not a badge to earn. You can never speak a word and use AAC full time and not being able to "take the joke" and fake your way in this allistic world, and still being a functioning adult that isn't breaking down every two minutes. Which one is "high functioning", tell me?

It depends of your definition of "functioning", I guess.

There's no high or low, just different experiences.

And just because you can do something doesn't mean you don't need help with it. Because being able to do something doesn't mean you can't suffer from it. It doesn't mean you want to have to battle and cry and bleed to do it.

I'm just so tired of this "high functioning" bullshit.

Find another word, people.

*

*

I'll add, a bit more calmly, that what I think is wrong with this is the criterias people uses to decide if it's low or high functioning.

It's based on the symptoms and traits neuroatypicals finds jarring (and thus make the diagnosis criterias) instead on looking on negative effects the disorder have on us, beside, you know, the things that make us stand out.

I know autists that are "obviously autistic", that get accommodations, and I see them thrive. In the meanwhile, I see autists that are categorised as "high functioning" that are chronically depressed because they got to a point where they can't cope anymore. Masking and living unseen and unhelped in the allistic world is exhausting and traumatic.

I'm not saying "low functioning" ND have it good. Certainly not so. There's horrific things done to so many of them because allistic people want to "cure" them and make them "normal". So, no, they don't have it good.

What I'm trying to say is, different experiences make different results, but you can't say one is worse than the other.

That's what anger me with these posts I've seen. That people erases my struggles because of some misconceptions about my life and how I experience it.

I just want a peaceful community linked by our similarities, where we can learn from our differences, instead of fighting over petty things like stuffs like this. What's the point of a feud?

[mydarllinglover]

Stars Collided || Seven

Previous

"You would think she was being sentenced to death." Ahsoka sighed.

"Privileged people have a weird way with coping." Anakin shrugged, as they watched Lovisa pour another glass of  wine.

"I can hear you." She sniffled, as she sipped the red drink.

"Why did we need to be here for this?" Ahsoka asked her, directly.

"Because I don't like to be alone, and you're hired to do what I say."

The two shared another look.

"Not because we're great company?" Anakin asked.

"I asked the two of you here, and no one else, didn't I?" She glared at him, as she grabbed two more glasses, filling them.

"Basically, what she is trying to say, is that she loves us, and we're her best friends." Ahsoka smirked.

"You may go now." Lovisa switched her glare to the girl.

"Always in such denial." Anakin grinned widely, as he moved around the counter to stand near her.

"I must love terrible company." She rolled her eyes, sipping her drink, and stepping away from him.

"So, you do love us." Ahsoka cheered.

"Bye." Lovisa walked out from the room, where they stored their wine.

"Where are you going?" The two pains in Lovisa's asses, followed her.

"To drown myself." She answered, walking down the hall, and towards an exit of the large castle.

"But then Anakin's gonna get in trouble for letting you die, and I'll be out of a job." Ahsoka told her.

"That doesn't really seem like my problem." She shrugged. "I won't care, if I'm dead."

"That's what you really want?" Anakin asked.

"No." She groaned. "But it doesn't matter what I want."

"What is that?" He pushed. "What do you want?"

She continued to march through the grass, no destination in mind.

"Everything that I can't have." She refused to give details. "I don't want to be tied to a stupid throne." She tore her tiara off her head, throwing it away from her, but Anakin moved to swipe it up, as he and Ahsoka both followed.

"It won't be terrible, Lovey." Her friend told her.

"Like you could even begin to understand." She snapped.

"Then explain it to us." Anakin urged.

"My life has just been poured down the drain." She was frustrated, and angry. "I have spent my whole life, knowing that I was the spare, whatever I decided to do with my life, never really mattered, as long as it didn't affect the Kingdom or my family, in a bad way, and I would be able to do whatever they needed of me, but now?" She laughed harshly. "Now, my father is going to force me to find a suitable husband, to share the throne with, and it won't be mine, it will be his, and I will have to bare his children, so that he has an heir, they won't be mine, but his, I don't even want children! I won't ever be able to get away, my duties will be doubled, I will never get a say, for my own country, but everyone will be looking at me, when something goes wrong. I wanted to travel, to see great, amazing sights, from all over, and be able to paint, and be happy, and to live, but that's gone, it's all gone! And she got to make that decision, because she gets to be happy, with the one she wants, because she's older, and she gets to step away, because she had a back up, and I don't, so I'm stuck here, and its not fair, it's not fair!" She fell to the ground, to her knees, as she breathed heavy, the weight lifting from her chest, as she continued to stare down, at the skirt of her dress. "I've never been allowed to make a decision in my life, I hate it, I hate them, I hate my title, I hate it all! And I'm going to be miserable and alone, for the rest of my pathetic existence, I hate being alone, my biggest fear is coming true, and no one even cares to ask about what I think, how I feel. They didn’t even bother to tell me, they all knew and kept it from me" She dropped her face into her hands. "Everyone just thinks of me as this wild and selfish, spoiled brat, that always wants her own way, but nothing ever goes my way."

Anakin and Ahsoka looked at each other, they both felt guilty, they felt terrible for teasing and tormenting her, for not bothering to truly see things from her side, yes, she was living lavishly, and was better off than them, she never truly knew what it was like to come from nothing, but unlike her, they had made choices to be where they are now.

"You won't be alone, Lovey." Ahsoka told her, gently, "You will always have me, and I won't let that happen."

Lovisa looked up, her waterline was brimming with tears, "Do you swear?" Her voice cracked, as she asked.

"On my own life." Ahsoka held a hand to her heart, as she also sunk to the ground. "And that does not need to happen, you can rule, make this what you want it to be, you don't need anybody else, and your parents aren't going anywhere, you still have so much time, to do all the things you want to do. You can travel, and fall in love-"

"I can't." She interrupted.

"Yes, you can" Ahsoka smiled encouragingly.

"No, Ahsoka, I can't fall in love." She looked past her friend, at the boy stood behind her, who was already looking at the princess, and he didn't care to look away.

His own chest was beginning to feel heavy, the idea of her moving on, getting married, and starting a family, with anyone but him, it drove him crazy, and since their first kiss, it had been keeping him up, at night, thinking about it, but he could not help himself, the jealousy was too consuming.

But she was a princess, and he was a Jedi.

"Oh..." Ahsoka whispered.

"I wish to go to bed." Lovisa sighed, getting up from the ground, shaking the grass out of her dress.

"I shall accompany you, princess" Anakin told her, nodding to Ahsoka that it was okay for her to go to her own space.

"No need, Jedi." She continued to walk back to the castle.

"Of course there is, I have to make sure that you get to your quarters, safely. That is my job, after all." He replied, walking beside her.

"Very well, then." She wiped her tears, as she kept her focus on where she was going. Her palms were facing down, as she tried to walk properly, like she was taught, and yes, she was made to walk with books on her head, as a child.

But then she was swooped up, in someones arms, Anakin's arms.

She let out a squeal of surprise, as she hooked her arms around his neck, scared that he might drop her, but he carried her through the castle, as though she weighed nothing, even with her poofy skirt, he didn't even seem to care.

"What are you doing, Ani?" She asked him.

"Carrying you to your room, Princess, you seemed to have been struggling." He told her, not bothering to look down at her face, so she was looking up at his. "And I just wanted an excuse to be close to you." He also admitted.

Her cheeks turned rosy, but she didn't say anything else.

When they had reached her bedroom, He only set her down, once he had reached her bed, so he could sit her down on her mattress.

"Do you need anything, before I go?" He asked.

She hesitated, before thinking.

"Yes, I do, actually." She told him.

"And what is that?" He rose a brow in curiosity.

"Well, normally Ahsoka helps me undress, and I can't do it myself." She looked down, bashfully, what if he said no? Then she'd be stuck sleeping in an uncomfortable corset all night.

"O- Of course, M'lady." She didn't miss how he looked taken aback at her request, she had found that it didn't take much to fluster the skilled Jedi.

"Thank you, Skywalker." She called him by his last name, she thought that it would make things less awkward, sound more professional.

She turned around, so that her back was facing him, and she waited for only a few moments, before she could feel his presence behind her, it sent goosebumps all along her skin, and he hadn't even touched her.

Anakin untied the knot at the bottom of her dress, before unravelling the ribbon, finally letting her body relax from the tight prison.

His finger tips danced around her back, she could feel his breath on her ear, and she fought the reaction to shiver.

His hands moved towards her shoulders, then he was gently pulling down the small sleeves.

"Thank you." Lovisa gasped, sharply, breaking herself out of the spell, as she took a step forward, creating distance from him, then she moved towards her divider, so that she could change, picking an blue nightgown, with a matching sheer blue robe, with the fluffy cuffs and hem.

"Would you like me to leave now, princess?" Anakin asked her.

"No, you haven't checked whether my room is secure." She made up an excuse, just to keep him a little longer.

"Of course." He nodded, before walking towards her bathroom, to check it, and then it was her balcony, he even bothered to check under her bed, as she watched. "Well, it looks safe and sound." He told her, as she sat on her bed, he was only a few feet away from her. "I shall leave you to rest."

He only walked a few steps, towards the door, before she stopped him.

"Ani, can you-.... would you wait with me?" She asked. "I don't want to be alone, and I want you- your company, I would like your company." She reiterated.

He was by her side in milliseconds.

"Yes." He said. "I can wait with you."

"Thank you." She said in a hushed breath.

She then got off from the end of the bed, so that she could get underneath the duvet, and lay at her pillows. "Will you lay with me?"

"If that is what you desire." He answered, copying her movements, as he got into the bed, on the other side.

“Are you comfortable like that?” She looked at his clothes.

“I suppose so.” He shrugged. “It’s not what I typically wear to bed, but that’s okay.”

“Well, how do you usually sleep?” She asked him.

“Not a lot.” He bit down a smirk, as he avoided her eyes.

“Oh.” She hated that her cheeks turned red, she focused on her duvet, to avoid the mental images in her head.

The two layed on their side, looking at one another, not sure what to say or do.

Then she took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles, feeling the scarred tissue, and the roughness, a show of hard work.

"I can't believe I'm laying in bed, with the future queen of Naboo." Anakin joked, breaking the silence, and causing a chuckle from her.

"Shut up." She rolled her eyes, with a small smile.

"You will make an amazing queen." He told her, with seriousness, now. "You don't have to make it the way things are now, you could make a difference, make things the way you want them to be, and fix Naboo, change all the bad that there is, here, there's so much you could do, and I know that it's you, who could and will do it, help the people, be the queen that this country needs."

"I don't think I would be very good." She shook her head. “The kingdom loves my mother and father, I would never reach their expectations.”

Anakin scooted closer towards her in the bed, he used his other hand to lift her chin, so that she would look at him, then moved to hold her cheek, swiping his thumb at the soft skin.

"Yes you will, Vis, you're the best option this place needs, I know you will do great, you're amazing, and I believe in you. You're a good person."

Her eyes softened, as she looked at him.

"But, I don't want to give you up, Ani, I don't think anyone could ever make me feel the way you do, I won't settle down with anyone." She shook her head in protest.

He kissed her, cutting off her next sentence before she could say it.

"Then don't." He said. "Don't end this, with me. We can be together, okay, no one has to find out, you don't need to marry, you don't need to marry anyone else, your sisters getting married, she'll most likely start a family with the senator, so the throne can just go back to them, after your reign, it'll be perfect."

Lovisa had no faith in his plan, she knew that was not realistic, and her father would never have that, it just wasn't the way things were, but to let herself be happy for just one more night, to enjoy his company, she nodded and smiled.

"Okay." She said, causing his own smile to grow wider, and he kissed her, again, with so much passion, that it broke her heart, just a little, she then pulled away. "Stay with me, for the night, please?"

"Of course, M'lady." He kissed her forehead, his hand in her hair.

She looked at his eyes, as they sparkled, as if he held the stars in them.

“You can undress, if you wish to, I promise I won’t look.”

“I don’t mind if you do.” He winked at her, playfully, as he did what she said, sitting up to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor by her bed.

“C’mere.” He laid back down, opening his arms for her.

Lovisa scooted even closer to him, wanting to be wrapped up in his warmth, Anakin hugged her tightly, his face buried in her hair, as they eventually fell asleep.

Next

[weebsinstash]

Not gonna lie if I were the reader after they got replaced by YouTwo I would be a neurotic mess lmao. I already mental issues but I can't imagine going through their trauma on top of everything. I would definitely be scratching myself again out of sheer stress and anxiety about whether or not everybody will replace me again. My arms would look horrible. Oh boy imagine everybody's reaction to realizing they've messed up this badly and absolutely ruined the reader

Other people: fun ways we can write! Coffee shop au! Red string of fate! Hanahaki! Enemies to lovers!

me: what if I sat and tried to seriously and realistically contemplate the ramifications of a severely traumatic experience and the following neurotic habits that arise from the spiral down

Reader gets back to Spider Society, either glitching back in or "being rescued" whatever, and, you're just doing shit like digging food out of the trash "you'd never guess what kinds of perfectly good stuff people throw away, and it saves time to not have to wait for anything to be prepped! Never know when you'll vanish in the middle of a meal or that one serial killer will pop out at you again!! Ahaha!

Someone comes to check on you and you deadass have a fucking, tripwire web trap all around you, you're not even sleeping in a bed you're in your own webbing (because we rock organic webbing here because it fucks) so the second anything like, opens the door of your apartment or comes near you, you're instantly aware. Peter B comes in "heeeey, just wanna check in, make sure you're doing ok--" and there's fucking web wires rattling cans as he opens the front door and suddenly you're wide awake with an actual fucking knife or some kind of equally brutal survivalist weapon and it takes you a few seconds to fully snap out of it and let him calm you down and he has to tell Miguel You Are In Fact Not Doing Ok

You've got real "scaring all your loved ones and everyone around you" energy during those times you're just like going through some manic shit, opening your mouth and going on a sudden 'epiphany' like "i know what would help!! I'm gonna start cutting my face in really visible prominent places and that way you guys will know by the scar who I am :) and when it heals I'll cut myself again :) and again :) maybe I should just cut off a finger, how many of me do you think are missing fingers? Or maybe I could give myself a cool scar!!" And it's just like. What the fuck do they even say to that. A lot of them just genuinely could cry over this, seeing what this did to you. You sound genuinely cheerful at the realization and give no mind to how casually you just suggested self harm out of paranoia and self preservation.

You're just having like hard-core eating disorder issues going from overeating to undereating, binging because you're suffer9ng trauma from starving and then starving yourself "no its fasting, I'm FASTING to save food and money and resources, ok, I can only fit so much in my backpack and--"

You have this backpack from your multiversal glitching travels and keeping it with you basically 24/7 even when you go to the bathroom becomes a comfort habit, because, "never know when your camp has been found by the runners and you've gotta make a break for it" or some other cryptic memory you babble at them like you're discussing coffee when it could be one of the most vile horrifying things they've ever heard

I think the most interesting but tricky thing I've thought of is, what if Reader's trauma-humor coping mechanism gets dialed up to 11 and you can basically never turn it off because, your brain is protecting yourself. It's like you're Doing A Bit but literally all the time like some traumatized method actor and you're just, they're never sure if you're actually telling the truth or actually recounting things you experienced after a while

"Oh man the last time I ate a meal this big was when I finally stopped glitching and I had to break into someone's house and rob them for food! Just call me Santa Claus! But this Earth had suffered a nuclear fallout so all they had was like, DRY CRACKERS and, a lotta canned stuff, icky, and, I was in the middle of trying to pry a tin of lil cocktail weenies open with my teeth when the irradiated house centipedes smelled my blood, just imagine like a normal centipede but, like, the size of a Shetland pony, hey, friendship really IS magic right, and me and these centipedes got SO close, so anyways they smelled my blood, right, and it made them hungry, and--" and here you got like The Entire Squad speechless, Hobies just over here like "fuck, I don't even know what to say to that, you want some ketamine bruv" and yall just hit em with "nah last time I tried ketamine I had a fever dream of being replaced by an evil clone and I was shunned by all my close friends who i thought of like family. Oh wait, that was you guys! That's awkward!"

[dirtyspongesoften]

Slut!

Jumin was a handsome man. He was dashingly handsome, an eligible bachelor, smart, rich. You managed to capture his heart, however the public did not agree with his view on you. But when you're with him, the sticks and stones they throw freeze mid air, because when it's just you and him, nothing else matters.

(If you couldn't tell already this is Taylor swift inspired, I think that in today's social media climate MC would definitely be criticized simply because people were jealous that she has the one thing they wanted, or people would definitely leave hate comments of some sort. But of course, her sweet, gentle, loving husband to be would smooth the creases between her brows and soothe all her worries.)

1.5k words

Jumin was one of Korea's most famous eligible bachelors, which changed when you waltzed into his life. You seduced him, black mailed him, and had been trained to do this. That was what the media said about you after the news aired the story of Jumin proposing to you at the RFA party. It had been almost a week since then, and the media still did not stop their endless commentary on the event. Of course they did not know what really happened, they thought you were there for money, for fame, for anything besides love. You tried desperately to ignore the comments, but after public outings with your fiance   everything only got worse. More people discredited your love, they scrutinized the way you held his hand, the shoes you wore, the makeup applied to your face. It was hard to cope but here, in this moment all of that felt miles away. 

The moon was full and high in the sky. It reflected off of his skin and made the pool look ethereal. You sat in Jumin's lap, his soft hands rested at your waist rubbing comforting circles there. He looked beautiful in the moonlight, his nose and dark hair made him look like a prince. You could feel him solid under your fingertips, he was real and he was yours.  You whispered and giggled amongst yourselves, sharing kisses and expensive wine while relaxing in the rooftop pool of his penthouse. 

       “My love, would you like to come to the office tomorrow to have lunch with me? I would love to have you there to give me motivation.” you brushed the strands of wet hair off his forehead and gave him a chaste kiss. 

     “I would love to babe, it's just..” you trailed off remembering the comments you heard from the women in the bathroom, ‘she's pretty average, probably looks really bad underneath the makeup, she obviously has other assets that attracted him to her if you get what I mean’ they broke out into giggles ‘yeah, she looks like a slut’ another fit of giggles. 

Jumin noticed how you went quiet and moved his hands from your waist to delicately cup your cheeks.

     “Darling, what's wrong? Please tell me, we can fix whatever it is.” You were hesitant to say anything, out of fear of getting someone in trouble, or making things worse with the media. You quickly smiled at him and hid in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

     “Nothing, around what time would you like me to be there?” 

      “Are you sure? If someone at the office is saying something please tell me. I will take care of it.” Always so protective. 

      “It's nothing, I promise. Now what time would you like me to be there?” 

     “Around one, I'll have Mr. Kim come pick you up, are you sure though?” 

      “Yes Jumin, it's fine no one has said anything, I swear on everything I hold dear” You giggled as gave him a quick kiss and looked back while you sauntered out of the pool to get your towel. He quickly followed behind with the promise of a lovely night. 

Around midday the next day you sat in your Pjs still, Jumins side of the bed had long gotten cold and it was just you scrolling through X (formerly twitter). You sat chewing your lip as you read another ridiculous article. You knew they were never good, but some small part of you hoped that someone would write a good article, that could show just even a bit of how much love you and Jumin shared. So sometimes you would stick around and read them, this one was about your age difference. You were 20 and he was 27 although the age gap was not illegal to many it seemed strange, almost predatory on his part, and definitely fetishizing on your part, according to them. When you first fell for each other you didn't consider the seven years between your ages. It was a big talking point for the media unfortunately. Your phone dinged with a notification, snapping you out of your thoughts. Mr. Kim was downstairs waiting and you had been so caught up in the article that you completely lost track of time. You text back a quick apology and explanation before you rush to get ready. 

When you arrived to C&R there were a couple of paparazzi already gathered at the door. You felt like sobbing, how did they know about this? 

Mr. Kim quickly came by to open your door and shield you from the harsh questions from the reporters and from the dizzying lights of the cameras. 

     “Mrs. Han, what are you wearing?” 

      “Mrs. Han, how much do you hope to get out of Jumin Han after your divorce ?” Your heart broke in two pieces.

      “Mrs. Han, what do you think about E!News calling you a slut?” Your heart shattered in a million pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes as you walked through the grand glass doors. Jaehee had come down to greet you and as soon as you saw her, you threw yourself in her arms, sobbing. 

     “What happened, are you alright?” She repeatedly said your name to no avail as tears continued to flow down. She led you to the elevator where she separated herself from you and began to ask questions. 

      “Do you know who could have possibly sent the paparazzi? What did they say?” After being unsuccessful in her attempts to ask you questions she simply wrapped her arms around you. “You know Mr. Han will have this swiftly handled. I'm sorry this is happening.” The elevator suddenly dinged and you were aware of the fact that you had 5 seconds to make it look like you just hadn't been sobbing. You loved Jumin and the fact that he was so protective of you, but the last thing you needed was him fussing over this, he was already so busy. Your attempts at looking presentable failed and the door opened to reveal Jumin with a soft smile on his face, which quickly warped to worry upon seeing your disheveled state. 

      “My love, darling, what happened? Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” He came to sweep you out of Jaehees arms and swiftly ran his hands on your body. He studied your face as you studied his worried expression.

      “Mr. Han, there was paparazzi at the front, I'm assuming it had something to do with that.” 

     “Thank you Jaehee, you're dismissed.” 

Jumin led you into his office, you saw the beautiful layout of food the chef had prepared but none of it seemed appetizing. How could they ask you that? How could they basically wish on the downfall of your marriage before it even happened?

     “They asked me how much money I wanted to get out of you after our divorce, Jumin…were not even married, how horrible is that?” your voice came out suddenly, barely above a whisper. He quickly came to wrap his arms around you. His warmth was all around you and for a second everything stopped. You could feel his hair tickle the top of your and the scent of his cologne. 

“My beautiful angel, I hate to see you cry like this, it makes my heart ache. Please do not listen to them, I will love you forever.” He brushed a stray tear off of your face. You sniffed and buried yourself into him further. “Let's go home okay? I'll take the rest of the day off.” You barely heard what he was saying as he called Jaehee to tell her that he would be taking the rest of the day off, you were too busy trying to get the paparazzis words out of your head. 

When you both arrived home Jumin took your coat and purse and guided you into the bedroom. With soft hands and gentle words of affirmation he helped you into your pjs and into bed. He crawled in behind you, he placed your head on his chest. You could feel and hear his heart beating, through all of the horrible thoughts going through your head about what had happened, his heart beat, steady and true, was the one thing that could cut through the noise. You felt his hands smoothing down your hair. You felt at peace for once this entire day, you felt warm and comforted in his arms. 

      “You will always be the light of my life, no matter what people say, no matter what  they wish for us, my love for you will never change ” You looked up to meet his eyes and saw nothing but adoration in them. 

       “I know Jumin, you're not the problem, it's what they say. It always gets to me unfortunately, but whenever I'm with you I know it's all worth it.” You warmly smiled up at him. You felt complete and whole, in this moment here. No one could take him from you, No one could take you from him. You could feel him rubbing comforting circles on your back, until you drifted off, feeling wholeheartedly content, that he was to be yours for the rest of eternity and that no matter what people said he would always be coming home to you, and you to him.

[quintenrosenburgwrites]

Okay, I know it's probably been said before but I am a BIG fan of how the different coping mechanisms of the main characters of The Amazing Digital Circus are portrayed. Like, it seems like a lot of the main characters could be described through how they cope with the idea that their actions don't matter. (I JUST WANNA SAY HERE THAT THESE ARE ALL JUST MY INTERPRETATIONS! IM NO EXPERT, JUST A STORYTELLING NERD) (SPOILERS FOR TADC EP 1 AND 2)

Ragatha plays along, seeing Cain's games as a way to practice escapism. She pretends her problems don't exist, and actively avoids confronting them (Like how there's clearly still SOME kind of tension after Pomni ran instead of helping her, but she says it's fine). She doesn't try to change things because she believes things CAN'T be changed.

Jax just does whatever he wants, because if his actions don't matter in the long run, why shouldn't he? He also practices escapism, but in a very different way from Ragatha. Instead of playing along, he is horrible to the people around him because there aren't any consequences anyways. He also avoids anything he finds stressful, much like Ragatha (He looks upset for a frame before rolling his eyes and walking away when Kaufmo's funeral is mentioned). Both of them refuse to confront their problems, and would much rather ignore them through each of their preferred types of entertainment.

Zooble doesn't really have the energy to participate in Cain's adventures, because their mindset is that if nothing matters, why should they do anything at all? They do put effort into some things, such as setting up Kaufmo's funeral, however so far it's been shown that they prefer not to participate in Cain's activities unless they are actively forced to.

Kinger. Um. I don't know how to describe Kinger if I'm being honest. Same with Gangle. We don't know a lot about either of them yet, but I'm sure other people have some fantastic theories on those two! My personal theory is that they're actually NPCs, because Cain mentioning the risk of mixing up real people and NPCs felt significant. It's kinda a very loose theory though, and it has literally ZERO proof, so

FINALLY, POMNI. I am a HUGE fan of Pomni's characterization! The best way I can describe Pomni is, if she was in a time loop, I imagine that she would, without fail, try to prove that she is a time loop to her friends EVERY loop to try and get their help. She's very clearly struggling a LOT in episode one and the beginning of episode two, but once she actually makes a friend, and later when she realizes that the others DO care, she starts to actually have hope. While the others have less healthy coping mechanisms, the way that Pomni copes with the idea of none of her actions mattering in the long run is, "At least my actions matter to the people around me." Having a support system matters a LOT to her, and I think that's why Pomni is going to be the one to get all of them out of there. The others have given up on escaping, resorting to escapism and/or apathy to cope, but because Pomni copes with her surroundings through her friendships with others, I don't think she'll give up like the others.

Anyways. I love TADC so much. I am SO excited for what's coming up next, and if Gummigoo doesn't come back I'll cry /hj (gummigoo getting eviscerated destroyed me on the inside)