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belovedspector · 1 year

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Photographs and Memories

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Content: Angst with a hopeful ending. Pre-outbreak.

A/N: Based on the song of the same name by Jim Croce. Yes, this is my second time writing a Joel fic based on a Jim Croce song. No, I'm not sorry about it. Enjoy! :)

Immersion Notice: I changed one little lyric to make this more inclusive ("Christmas cards you sent to me" became "Birthday cards you sent to me").

Masterlist

“Photographs and memories, Birthday cards you sent to me. All that I have are these, To remember you.”

“You’re doing it again,” Sarah says flatly from Joel’s bedroom doorway.

“Yeah, you caught me,” Joel acquiesces with a sigh. He sets the shoe box full of photographs that he’d been sifting through aside on the bed.

“You could call, you know. Make things right,” she suggests.

“No, I can’t,” he argues, but there’s no bite to it. He’s too tired for that.

It’s been like this for weeks now—Joel glumly looking back on your relationship, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. He keeps going back to the photos, where the two of you look so damn happy, and the birthday cards, where you’d poured your soul into heartfelt notes meant just for him. Where had he gone wrong? What had changed?

“Yes, you can.” His daughter’s voice brings him back to the present.

“Don’t you have homework to do, or something?” he asks gruffly.

“It’s summer, Dad,” she points out with a roll of her eyes.

“Right,” he mutters. He can’t help but take another glance at the open shoe box. The photo on top shows the two of you at the beach, Joel’s arm around your waist, sunglasses perched on top of your head as you smile brightly at the camera.

“Anyway, I’m going over to Stephanie’s house,” she says. “Please don’t still be sitting here when I get back.”

“Be safe!” he calls out to her as she walks away.

With a sigh, Joel puts the lid back on the shoe box and returns it to its spot on the floor of his closet.

“Memories that come at night, Take me to another time, Back to a happier day, When I called you mine.”

Joel’s lying wide awake in bed. He squints at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 2:51, the display reads.

He can’t stop thinking about you—about your smile, your voice, everything. He remembers the way you danced in the kitchen while cooking dinner, the way you laughed unabashedly loudly at his dumb jokes.

Joel sighs deeply as he looks up at the dark ceiling above him. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine you beside him in bed, sleeping peacefully. It wasn’t that long ago that that was his reality. Now, the other side of the bed is cold. He’s since washed the sheets, and the scent of your sweet perfume is no longer lingering on the pillowcase.

With a groan, he rolls over, pressing his face into his pillow. He needs to get a grip, move on with his life.

But he can’t. He can’t stop thinking about you, no matter what he does.

He sits up in bed, reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp, and grabs the book he’s been reading, resigning himself to yet another restless night.

“But we sure had a good time, When we started way back when. Morning walks and bedroom talks, Oh, how I loved you then.”

Joel’s staring straight ahead at the road as he drives to work, but his mind is elsewhere. He can’t help but think about you, sitting in the passenger’s seat, fiddling with the radio and sticking your hand out the window to feel the breeze between your fingers.

He thinks back to the beginning of your relationship—the “honeymoon phase,” Sarah had called it. That kid is wise beyond her years.

He thinks about the walks you’d take on weekend mornings. He’d hated it, at first, getting up at the crack of dawn when he could be sleeping in a little while longer, but your joy was infectious. You always admired the little things, took time to acknowledge the beauty of the world around you. You’d point out flowers on your walk, get excited anytime you passed a dog.

He thinks about lying on his side in the dark next to you, face mere inches away from yours, as you talked about everything and nothing, how you’d shared your greatest fears and hopes for the future.

He thinks about—

“Joel!” Tommy practically shouts, snapping him back to the present.

“What?” he snaps, irritated at having been interrupted. “You just drove past the site, dumbass,” Tommy says.

“Shit.”

“Summer skies and lullabies, Nights we couldn’t say goodbye. And of all of the things that we knew, Not a dream survived.”

Crickets chirp as Joel sits on his back porch, nursing a beer and looking up at the stars dotting the cloudless sky.

He can’t help but be transported to the night he’d taken you stargazing. He’d driven you out and away from the city and parked in a beautiful, quiet area. The truck bed was filled with pillows and blankets, allowing the two of you to lay side by side and look up at the sky. Joel had spent more time looking at you, though, at the way the starlight reflected in your wonder-filled eyes.

He takes a sip of his beer and remembers how hard it had been to say goodbye that night—or every night, really. He never wanted to leave your side, never wanted the night to end, and you felt the same.

And now, here he sits, all alone.

He thinks about all the plans he’d had for your future together, the future he was so sure about but now doesn’t exist, will never exist.

He thinks about the ring, still tucked safely away in his sock drawer.

“Photographs and memories, All the love you gave to me, Somehow it just can’t be true, It’s all I’ve left of you.”

It’s a rainy Saturday morning, and Joel is finally tackling the mess that is his desk, precariously stacked piles of paper taking over nearly every inch of its surface. As he picks up a random stack of papers, one falls, fluttering gently to the floor. The pale pink paper immediately catches his eye.

It’s the love letter you’d written for him last Valentine’s Day.

You’d been nearly sick with nerves when you’d given it to him, afraid that it was a stupid idea. He had assured you that he loved it with tears in his eyes. In truth, it was the sweetest gesture he had ever received.

He reads it back now, hearing your voice in his head as he reads your confession of love. It’s nothing he hadn’t heard a hundred times before, but, for some reason, seeing it written out made it more special, more real.

He’d give anything to hear you say you love him one more time.

He tucks the letter away in one of the desk’s drawers and gets back to work.

“But we sure had a good time, When we started way back when. Morning walks and bedroom talks, Oh, how I loved you then.”

It’s been months since you broke up. Joel still thinks about you, about what you had together, constantly. Despite Sarah’s attempts to play matchmaker with the new, single neighbor that moves in down the street, despite Tommy’s incessant teasing, Joel can’t move on.

He’s grocery shopping when it happens.

He sees a silhouette that looks suspiciously like yours. Then, the person turns around, and, sure enough, it’s you, looking as breathtaking as ever.

Joel feels like he can’t breathe. He drops the tomato he’d been inspecting as he watches you put a container of strawberries in your shopping basket from over the rows of produce.

It’s then that you look up, and your eyes meet his.

Joel’s heart skips a beat. He feels like a kid seeing their crush in the schoolyard.

You offer him a soft smile, and Joel feels fireworks exploding in his chest. He manages to give you a small wave back, but he’s sure he looks shell-shocked.

You walk down the aisle, and Joel thinks that that’s it. That would be enough, really, just getting to see your face in person after only having seen it in grainy photographs and in his mind’s eye for so long.

But, you surprise him. You turn down his aisle and approach him.

“Hi,” you say shyly, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

Suddenly, Joel’s mouth is very dry. “Hi,” he gets out after a moment.

“Listen, I—” you start.

“I’m sorry,” Joel blurts at the same time.

“I—what?” You look surprised.

“I’m sorry,” Joel repeats. “I’m sorry about how things ended. I want to make it right. Is there any chance that we could grab a coffee sometime?” He sounds desperate to his own ears, but he can’t help it.

You smile, and he can practically feel his broken heart mending itself back together. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Joel doesn’t know what will happen from here, but he’s thrilled at the prospect of creating new memories with you.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #x reader #jace writes

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years

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good luck rituals (old and new)

(My prompt for this years RSCandyHearts by @goodboylupin was "superstar". While I'm not sure if this is what the box of candy hearts had in mind when it was chosen, this is what I came up with and I immensely enjoyed writing it. For those of you who are unfamiliar, here is short YT clip of the "superstar" reference...

otherwise.

enjoy

xoxo)

Remus’s back was pressed firmly against the cool brick of backstage as he listened to the stand-up comic start to wrap up their set. Ending their ten-minute slot with a joke about travel size snacks, that was yielding little response from the audience. Though, Remus wasn’t sure if it was the material (well, not entirely sure) or the lack of audience, having refused to peek around the corner of the wings to look out into the eyes of strangers. Instead, he kept his eyes closed, and he took a breath to try to calm his nerves and the heartbeat he could feel in his fingertips. Trying to remember this is what he had been working for and dreaming about.

All the time spent busking on street corners.

Working a stupid office job making photocopies and answering phones despite how often his voice cracked.

All the time spent practicing in tiny apartments and recording on his ancient computer in coat closets to avoid upsetting his neighbors with the dulcet sounds of improvisational jazz on an alto saxophone.

Time and energy and he had finally landed himself a slot at the Black Lagoon Lounge.

Well.

An unofficial slot on a night reserved for amateurs, that was unpaid, but he had auditioned and one someone over. He was talented enough to be standing backstage, waiting for his name to be announced by the host; for the lights to dim.

Waiting for his own ten minutes in the spotlight.

He was sweating already, thin turtleneck sticking to his skin as he exhaled through his mouth before he put his saxophone down on the piano bench backstage, hearing his old music teachers voices in the back of his mind screaming bloody murder as he did so.

You’ve been nervous before, Lupin. You’ll be nervous again, and you can still do this.

He swallowed and tilted his head back to stair up at the rafters. A mess of narrow catwalks and railings.

“I can do this,” Remus whispered to himself before placing his hands underneath his armpits, fingers applying pressure against his ribcage just so. “I can do this,” he repeated, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

At least he didn’t smell.

Clean sweat.

Clean set.

“Let’s hear it one more time for Florence!” The host exclaimed, clapping into the microphone on stage. “Now this next one, I think you will really like…”

Remus picked up his saxophone and clipped it to the lanyard around his neck. His mother had knitted a pad for the back of it, bright magenta and yellow resting just below brown curls.

“All the way from Detroit…”

Inhale.

“Please welcome--Remus Lupin, his saxophone called Moony, and jazz.”

Remus snorted at the introduction, exchanging a weak smile with the Host—a man with messy jet back hair and round glasses, in purple plaid pants—as he walked onto the stage. He waited for the lights to dim slightly, blinking out into the lounge.

It wasn’t exactly the roar of the crowd.

A drunk at the back of the bar, slumped over on a stool.

A few staff pretending to be super busy, making scenes of taking a single plate left behind back to the kitchen.

The odd couple making out over their table, second drinks forgotten, in favor of touches and giggles and tongues.

And then there was him.

Remus already suffered from incurable dry mouth, having taken the route of soaking his reeds before playing, learning the hard way that he simply couldn’t conjure enough moisture on his own. His mother always said he lost everything sweating about the small stuff. But this man blinking back at him in the audience caused every drop of moisture Remus had left on this tongue to evaporate.

“H-h-i—” Remus started, his voice cracking, somehow able to turn a one syllable word into three. An impressive skill and he felt his face flush, looking down at the microphone to avoid the stare of him. “I uh, will…spare everyone here tonight a fumbled introduction, I’m not great with talking… just…I think I’ll just play, if that’s alright.”

A small chuckle.

That was the roar.

Remus made quick work of test notes.

Making sure his fingers remembered how to move.

And that his lungs remembered how to breath.

And that is mind and heart loved how it felt to be the center of attention for once for all the right reasons, watching out of his peripherals as the couple stopped making out and the staff slowed their paces as he played.

Remus went to the bar after his set, his saxophone in its case beside him, fiddling with the flimsy red straw in his whiskey and coke. He smiled to himself.

I don’t know what I just listened to, but I’m pretty sure I liked it, The Host had said after Remus exited the stage to the sound of cheers and a whistle.

“I liked your set,” came a voice and Remus looked away from floating ice cubes in his glass to see leather trousers sitting next to him at the bar stool.

“Uh, thanks.”

“I liked your audition tape too.”

“Tape?” Remus asked, panicked and finally looking up at the face that he knew belonged to black trousers. The one with the eyes he had avoided his entire set. The one with the cheekbones and the long, black curly hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail like something out of Vogue. The one who whistled at the end of his slot.

“Sirius Black—I own this place. I couldn’t make it to the auditions, but I did have them recorded…” He trailed off, with a lopsided grin, signaling the bartender. “I knew you were a good bet.” Remus nearly choked on his whiskey, and he sat up straighter on his bar stool unconsciously and Sirius laughed, “Relax, relax. I just said I liked it.”

“And I’ve forgotten every word except for thank you, and I’m…pretty sure I need to impress you further.”

Sirius laughed softly—that was the roar he heard earlier, this man— “Impress me? I just work here.”

“I’m told its part of playing the game…”

“Well, my philosophy has always been let your craft play the game for you…”

“You’re a musician?”

Another bark of laughter, and Sirius took two tattooed fingers and fished the cherry out of the top of his drink, “No, just a Lounge owner, I’m afraid.”

“Then of course you don’t know about the games. I’ve been at this for years and its always the people in charge you need to impress…”

“And you haven’t?”

“My music and…me…we’re an acquired taste, it seems.”

Sirius grinned, that cocky-lopsided one he saw earlier somewhere at his five-minute mark in his set, the one that definitely didn’t make him flush and definitely didn’t make him tongue tied now, “Lucky you then.”

“Wh-y’s,” another crack in his vocal cord, elongating syllables, “that?” Remus quickly picked up his drink and took a large gulp.

“I have a refined palette.” Sirius shrugged, “But—”

“But?”

“I have to ask what you were doing before you played.”

“Oh, I just work a stupid office job. Signatures and…filing.”

“No, backstage before you went on."

“W-What?”

“I went to go ask my brother about something, he's the annoying one with the headset running around back there, and saw you…you know…smelling your hands. Good luck ritual?”

“Oh god,” Remus smacked his hand against his forehead, “I’ll buy you a drink if you pretend you didn’t see.”

“I drink for free.”

“…Hot wings then?” Sirius laughed again and Remus winced, running his hand down his face, “I will give you the ten I made in tips tonight."

"Keep your money."

"You saw...?"

“I didn’t.”

“…Thanks.”

“I’ll just have to wait and see if you do it again next week. Find out eventually. This will be fun."

“Next week?”

“Refined palette.” Sirius said, picking up his pink drink and standing off the barstool, “You’ll get a call Monday.”

“I could kiss you.”

“Slow down there, superstar.” Sirius winked and made his way back to the center of the Lounge where he was sitting when Remus had first seen him to watch the rest of the acts.

Remus stood in front of the entrance of the Black Lagoon Lounge, phone stretched out in his hand, and his saxophone in the other as he pasted on a goofy grin and snapped a photo.

We’re still here! Another Saturday! Will send the recording as always.

A year ago, Remus felt lucky to have a 10-minute slot for amateur night.

And then he felt lucky to have a half hour slot to open on Saturday nights.

And then—now—he couldn’t believe his name was the one on the marquee.

TONIGHT: REMUS LUPIN, MOONY, AND....JAZZ

He waved to the security team as he walked in through the double doors, and down the stairs through black velvet curtains. He wasn’t on for another two hours but could smell the smoke and hear the soothing vocals of the singer who opened for his own opener.

It was the same every Saturday, and entirely different at the same time.

A routine he could rely on with familiar faces. The staff. The Host. The doors and his dressing room, now filled with his favorite brand of cigarettes and cards from people who had stumbled by the lounge and heard him play.

He kept his mother’s neck cushion on his lanyard.

He kept his reeds in a cup of water.

Some things didn’t change.

But now he played to full rooms. An actual crowd, the sound of cutlery clinking together accompanying his sets. Regulars who sat in the front every week and put twenties into a hat he left on the stage.

Sirius.

Who stood in the back, leaning against the bar with his long curly hair swept to the side and his array of leather clothing and whistled every time.

Every week for a year

And Sirius went from handsome man who made intense eye contact in a nearly empty lounge To Lounge owner.

To Man He Needed to Impress

To Friend

To Boyfriend.

There was a knock at the door, the backstage manager, who Remus had learned was Sirius’s brother, popping his head in to signal it was getting closer to show time.

Remus still carried his own saxophone backstage with him, not trusting anyone else to set it up just right and the way he liked it.

Remus still got nervous, like it was the first night all over again. Reveling in the sensation of his heartbeat hammering a rhythm of its own.

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, placing his hands underneath his armpits, and applying light pressure.

“You have been nervous before, and you will be nervous again,” Remus whispered to himself, “And you can do this.”

“You can do this,” came a second voice and Remus opened his eyes, unable to stop himself from smiling at the sight of Sirius in front of him. The toes of their shoes were touching, and Remus sometimes wished he could spend the evening counting eyelashes on grey eyes instead of counting out beats in his head.

Lucky that there was time for both, knowing Saturdays ended with Your Place or Mine? And absent touches on freckles and scars and tattoos and ribcages and hipbones.

Sirius looked at him expectantly, “Go ahead and finish…bad luck if you don’t.”

Remus shook his head but brought his fingers to the base of his nose and inhaled deeply anyway. It was bad luck if he didn’t finish the ritual.

“Still the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever seen….” Sirius said.

“Ever?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, I have a second good luck ritual now too and its bad luck not to finish it…” Remus teased, and Sirius laughed, bringing a hand up to Remus’s chin and tilting it upward before kissing him softly.

“Good luck, superstar.”

#rscandyhearts #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #love love love #everyone praise me for writing a damn thing #i did it!!#before the deadline!#amazing!#also im sorry i took such a ridiculous take on this prompt #but you are wrong if you think remus WOULDNT do this

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toastling · 15 days

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This might be an unpopular opinion from all the responses I've seen here on tumblr this past month, but I think this whole Jack Blacklash has been completely blown out of proportion. I think you might all be a little bit too online. I can't believe I'm saying this with a straight face, but I think we might all need to go touch some grass.

Like, I get it, okay? I make jokes that read like death threats all the time about friends and enemies and politicians alike. We all do. But you and I, we're all literal nobodies. Who cares if we end up on some watch list for some off-color humor, we don't have careers. Not huge, public-facing ones that would be horrifically impacted by said off-color humor.

Jack Black is a public figure. He doesn't have the luxury to say the kind of shit or cosign the kinds of jokes that we all do. And I don't think that's fair, and I don't think that's right, but that doesn't change the truth of the matter. Hate the game, not the player. If you actually watch the event in question, he's right there on stage laughing along with the the rest of us. He's explicitly stated since thta he and Kyle still are and always will be friends *and* that Tenacious D isn't over.

But he, and more pointedly, his PR team, cannot allow that sort of joke about a major political figure, no matter how pathetic and fascistic he may be, to fly. And the response really does read more like PR damage control than it does something he actually has his full weight behind when you take into context everything else he's said about the situation since.

"It's just a joke". Yes, I agree, and personally, I'd have commit career suicide and stuck by it because that's the kind of person I'd be in any given spotlight. I'm not interested in celebrity, and I'm not interested in longevity at the expense of unlimited free expression on my part either. But I'm in the minority on that. Most public facing figures have to tow a line with this sort of thing.

Unless they're A) Already in politics, particularly as a right wing chud or B) Deeply entrenched as an edgy comic, and a stand-up comic in particular, then most famous folks cannot get away with an assassination joke like that and not face disastrous, potentially career-ending consequences and a visit from the FBI.

And yes, it's just a joke, but also, stop and think for a second the kind of world you're trying to create here. The alt-right dipshits all over Twitter and Reddit and the rest of the internet already use the same exact excuse of "it's just a joke" to try and get away with wholehearted bigotry and *actual* calls for violence. And yeah, it's bullshit, and usually, everybody knows it. But it's not always so clear.

If Kyle made that quip a bit more dryly and only made it clear it was a joke after the fact, all we'd have to go on is his word. And he's "our guy", so of course we'd take him at his word. Would anybody else? Not just "the other side", but actual, neutral, not terminally online morons? You know, like most of the world's population is? And even with how it *did* unfold where it was *clearly* meant as humor, it still has very real repercussions *immediately following a legitimate assassination attempt*.

You're really tempting fate and cracking open Pandora's Box there if you genuinely think public figures should be held to the same lax standards as us nobodies. As much as I personally loathe respectability politics, I'm not stupid. I understand very well the purpose that they serve in preventing every minor political squabble descending into outright violence, small scale shitstain vs shitstain or full-on civil war.

For a site that loves to complain about everybody else's lack of critical thinking, I've seen a shocking lack of it from everybody here on this particular matter. Just because the guy we hate was the butt of the joke doesn't make the thing that happened 100% okay. This shit can and does have serious consequences.

And now I see some chucklefucks saying shit like "Oh, Jack Black is the new Chris Pratt now", as if Jack Black attends gaybashing mega churches or has a psychotic paramilitary brother he supports or is in any way on any level even remotely as vapid as the crisped rat.

Like, one single choice we don't like because orange man bad, and literal *decades* of good will just evaporates overnight. Hell, some of you pretend like you never even had that good will in the first place, when you verifiably did. It's not like he called you a faggot or pushed an orphan down the stairs, he got spooked about the fact that the FBI might bust his door down because his friend made an off-color joke in front of tens of thousands of people immediately following an assassination attempt. Like??? You call *this* critical thinking???

Honestly, you guys are no smarter than your parents. And if that pisses you off, then stop being stupid and think about something outside yourself for a second and recognize that Hollywood Superstar Jack Black does not have the same privilege of inconsequential mediocre anonymity you and I do. That doesn't automatically make him "bad" or pro Trump. That makes him somebody who gives a shit about keeping his career going for another 30 years.

In summary: touch grass, eat ass, let it pass.

#Toast Talks #Toast Rants #Jack Black

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redbuddi · 1 year

Note

How will you handle the characterization of characters like Sam and Tucker? Danni?

What are some of the biggest changes to the overall story you are looking forward to exploring?

*cracks knuckles* alright here we go!

Sam and Tucker are extremely important to the series, more important than I think people tend to give them credit for, and that importance would be retained in Redux.

Tucker would be more or less the same as the OG Tuck, he's still a big tech geek, still loves meat, is still simultaneously the comic relief and the voice of reason depending on the situation, etc. I mostly plan on just making a few subtle tweaks to his character to flesh him out a bit more than the show was willing to.

Now is the time to mention that Redux will take place the same year the OG show came out, 2004. So the tech that Tucker salivates over will be tech that's dated by our standards, he still uses a PDA like a cell-phone, and carries around a lot of big chunky gadgets like portable CD players and such. While he is mostly a programming guy, he will build and invent things, and will help Danny do the same. He invented Danny's goggles and co-invented the Thermos with Danny.

Tucker is the most emotionally available of the trio, he doesn't always have solutions but he's willing to hear people out, and with his weak constitution he is the least fond of fighting, tho not purely pacifistic. He is the most outgoing of the group as well, but doesn't desire popularity, he's pretty satisfied with his lot in life. He's just a pretty amicable guy and likes to talk a lot. Like in the show, he's been friends with Danny for the longest, and knows him the best.

"Time to hack the mainframe..."

*swats away computer*

"Hello! This is the front desk, right? Sorry, I'm new and no one's told me the company password yet..."

I'd also take out his more wannabe-casanova traits, cause it's just kind of uncomfortable. I see him as more of a jughead-type, commenting on the drama and romance from the sidelines while never himself being too interested in it. He'll still joke about ladies loving him, but it'd be more tongue-in-cheek and self-aware.

Overall he tends to try to outsmart or talk his way out of situations, which can be a huge help, but also sometimes makes things worse. His smooth-talking has a 50/50 success rate.

He has a pretty good relationship with his parents, but can be kind of distant with his Dad, who is pretty overbearing and really wants Tucker to follow in his footsteps as the Mayor. It would be a running joke that Tucker is so disinterested in being the Mayor that he often times doesn't even justify his dad with a response. He will literally just leave if he can tell that that's where a conversation is going.

Sam is probably the character that would be overhauled the most. The OG Sam isn't terrible, but is very obviously an attempt at a counter-cultural character by people who know nothing about counter-culture.

The biggest change I'd make is that she no longer comes from old money. I get what the OG show was trying to do, but even as a little kid I couldn't really buy it or her whole rebellious thing. Not when she still greatly benefited from her family's money.

Instead, she comes from a well-off upper middle-class house, and she hates her parents. Not just because they don't understand her, but because her parents are actually horrible. Her Dad is a lawyer who is always looking for loopholes to get the rich out of trouble, and her Mom runs an MLM selling cheap clothes to desperate housewives (Think LuLaRoe). Her parents don't not love her, but they are deeply terrible people who, at the end of the day, only really care about themselves. Sam has sworn to do everything in her power to not be like them. The only reason she hasn't run away is because they're not home often enough for her to have to deal with them too much.

Danny: "Ow! Watch where you're poking!"

She tries to do as much on her own as she can, up to and including making basically everything she wears out of discount clothes and thrift shop purchases. While she does get an allowance, she doesn't spend any of it, she's saving her money so that she can leave home the moment she turns 18 and never look back. She is more interested in fashion than she often lets on, and dreams of running an eco-friendly fair trade boutique. After destroying capitalism, of course. She designed and made the alterations to Danny's jumpsuit, with the help of spectral thread that Danny had invented for her birthday.

In this series, Sam isn't just a holier-than-thou goth girl, she's a full-on anarchist punk-rock bitch, and she's proud of it. She will always speak her mind when she feels an injustice is taking place, and unlike in the OG series, Danny and Tucker will usually be there to back her up. That said, there's plenty that she gets up to on her own, she has had her brushes with the law, she's gotten into fights, she does not protest peacefully, and she usually doesn't involve Danny or Tucker because she doesn't want them to feel obligated to help her and then get hurt because of it.

She is strongly antisocial, and generally pretty closed off. She is the type of person who will listen to everyone's problems but won't speak about her own unless pushed. She is deeply loyal to and protective of her friends, sometimes to the point of being a little overbearing.

As for Danni, I certainly have thoughts, but I haven't settled completely on how she would fit in to the overall story. I do want her to be in the series, I just need to figure out what her deal would be.

EDIT! Completely forgot to answer the second part of the question!

The biggest change I'm looking forward to is giving Valerie more screen time, haha.

#danny phantom #phantom redux #ask #asks #my art

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ivyangels-blog · 2 years

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Bye, Bye, Baby (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader)

Summary: You and Hangman have hit a rough patch. Is a surprise pregnancy just the thing to save your relationship, or end it for good?

Warnings: angst, pregnancy, language, serious discussions of abortion (I also didn't really read over it, so unedited)

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

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It couldn’t have come at a worse time. Hangman and I have been drifting apart. It’s been over a month since we last spent the night together.

We were so careful, I’m on the pill and we always used a condom, but here I am, looking down at an array of positive pregnancy tests.

Tears spill down my face.

What the hell am I going to do? I can't have a baby right now, it would disrupt my entire career path. It's always been my dream to become an admiral. A baby will put me back at least a year.

There's only one other alternative right now and unfortunately I'm not sure if it's one I'm willing to take. Regardless, I have to consider it and I have to at least find out how long I've been pregnant for. Considering it's been over a month since Hangman and I have had sex, that means that I have to be at least four weeks along already. If I'm going to get an abortion than I'll have to think fast.

So, I pick myself up off the bathroom floor and call the abortion clinic, opting for one off base in hopes that I can keep this private for a little longer. I set up a consultation for two days from now and start to contemplate my next big obstacle: how to tell Hangman.

I know I can't discuss this kind of thing over the phone, so I wait until I see him at training the next day. It's not until our session is over, though, that I'm finally able to get a minute alone with him.

"Hey, babe?" I ask, walking next to him on the tarmac.

"Yeah?" he asks, turning to me with a smile.

"I was wondering if you could come over to my place tonight? Maybe we could do a movie night?"

"I can't do tonight, I promised the boys we could hit The Hard Deck." Hangman gives me a sympathetic smile.

I bite the inside of my bottom lip, trying to smile back, but only seeing this brush off as a further crack in our relationship.

"Can we do tomorrow night?" Hangman asks and I nod. "Great." He leans in and pecks my lips. "See you then."

I watch him walk away. I was hoping I'd be able to tell him before my first appointment. I was hoping he could give me some advice, ease my worries, tell me I'm doing the right thing; instead I'll have to settle for updating him afterwards.

At my appointment the next day, I discover that I've been pregnant for seven weeks, which means I only have about a month to get an abortion, until it will be too late.

I'm only just getting home when Hangman pulls into my driveway.

"Hey," he says, stepping out of his car, as I unlock my front door. "Were you out?" he asks, coming up the front steps to join me.

I unlock the front door, swinging it open. "Hangman, we really need to talk." I step inside and he follows, swinging the door shut behind him.

"What's wrong?" he asks and although I can't bring myself to look at him right now, I can hear the worry in his voice.

"Let's just sit down." I walk into the living room, taking a seat on the couch with my gaze locked on the carpet.

Hangman sinks onto the cushion right next to me, his leg pressed against mine.

"I know we've been drifting apart lately, so this couldn't have come at a worse time," I start, trying to find the words.

Hangman grabs my hand, pulling it into his lap. "Y/n," he says, calling me by my real name instead of my callsign. "Please look at me."

I force my head up and meet Hangman's gaze, hoping that he can't tell that I'm holding back tears.

"Are you breaking up with me?" he asks.

I shake my head immediately. “No, no, that’s not it,” I reassure him.

His shoulders relax and he breathes deeply with a nod. “Then what is it?”

I roll my lips into my mouth, not wanting to say it.

“You’re not pregnant are you?” he asks, chuckling like he’s trying to make a joke.

I look away, pulling my hand from his and pressing it to my mouth to muffle the sob that try’s to escape.

"Oh my god." Hangman circles around in front of me, dropping to his knees to catch my eye.

"You're pregnant?" he asks.

I nod, wiping at the tears by my eyes.

"Oh my god," Hangman says again. "Okay, it's gonna be okay." He grabs my hands again. "We can figure it out. I mean we have nine months to do it."

"Hangman," I say, not sure how to introduce the idea of an abortion.

“We can be great parents. I know it.”

“Hangman, I don’t want to keep it.”

Silence crashes over the room.

“Ace, I don't want to put them up for adoption. I can't live my life knowing that my kid is out there somewhere. Listen, I know it's scary, but I'm ready to-"

"Well, I'm not," I cut Hangman off.

Hangman stops mid sentence, his face falling.

"I'm not ready to do this. I'm not ready to start a family or disrupt my career." I stare at Hangman, waiting for him to say something, but he avoids my gaze. I sigh. "I went to the abortion clinic today and-"

"Hold on, an abortion?" Hangman pops up from the couch, his voice rising.

I reach for his hand to try and pull him back, but he jerks out of my grasp.

"You're gonna kill our baby?" He says it with so much venom that he might as well have slapped me across the face.

"Jake..."

"No. No!" he says adamantly. "You can't do that. My family doesn't believe in abortions."

I scoff, standing up from the couch, too. "What the fuck does your family have to do with this?" I ask.

"Fine. I don't believe in abortions."

I can't believe this. I can't believe that I let this dick get me pregnant.

I cross my arms, trying to stay angry to keep myself from crying.

"So what? You want me to have your fucking kid against my will?" I ask.

"No, I want you to have our baby. So we can raise it together." His words are kind, but he's still arguing.

"Hangman, I don't have time for a pregnancy right now. It will put me months behind in my career and if we keep it even more."

"Would that be so bad? Having a family?"

I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes, as I realize he doesn't get it. He's never going to get it.

"Yesterday you ditched me to go to the bar with your friends, but now you're ready to start a fucking family with me?"

Hangman nods. “Yes, I care about you y/n.” He steps towards me, reaching out, but I step away.

“No you don’t.” I push my arms out to keep him back. “You only care about whatever bullshit your parents put in your head about fulfilling your duty as a dad. You don’t give a fuck about how this is going to affect me.”

Hangman runs a hand through his hair, looking away and then turning back to me. "So what, you're just going to kill it?"

I sniff, no longer able to hold the tears back as they stream down my face. "You think I want to?"

Hangman's face softens and he steps towards me. "So don't."

I bite my lip, turning away from him in frustration. "You don't get it."

"What don't I get?" His voice is soft and I can tell he's trying his hardest to stay calm.

I turn back towards him, looking him in the eye. "I won't be able to fly. They're never going to let me in the air if I find out I'm pregnant and then that puts me out for at least nine months. Plus a few more if I'm going to take care of it and by that point I can kiss becoming admiral goodbye."

Hangman wraps his hands around my arms. "You don't know that."

"I know that I don't want this baby... and I'm sorry if you do, but..." I sniff, reaching up to wipe at my eyes with my shirt sleeve. "I hope we can still be together, even if a family isn't one of my priorities right now."

I'm too scared to look up at his face. Too scared to see what his reaction is.

I feel his hands leave my arms and my heart drops. He's walking away, he's leaving.

Then I feel his arms around my back, pulling me closer. My face presses against his chest, no doubt leaving tear stains on his t-shirt.

"I want to be with you," he says, his lips meeting the top of my head.

I pull my head away, looking up at him.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

He nods. "I love you and I want you to achieve your dreams."

"But what about your dreams?" I ask. "Kids? A family?"

Hangman smiles. "Maybe we should start with a dog."

A grin stretches across my face.

"Deal," I reply.

Hangman turns his head, bending down to meet my lips.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into the kiss.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asks, when we break away. "To your next appointment?"

I nod, blinking away the last few tears that were in my eyes. "Please?"

Hangman cups my face, using his thumb to brush away any remaining evidence of my crying. "Of course."

#hangman top gun #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #top gun #top gun fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #top gun maverick #top gun fic

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kyofsonder · 2 years

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Heads Up Seven Up

I was tagged by @writingpotato07 and @on-noon to share the last seven lines of the last WIP I was working on, so I'll combine them to share lines from the last two WIPs I've been working on. Thank you both for the tag, and the chance to share my work!

I'll tag: @junypr-camus, @starlightscribe, @saltysupercomputer, @inkspellangel, @365runesofwriting, and as always anyone who wants to join in can say I tagged them!

The last (more than) seven(ish) lines from my novel WIP "Apricots":

"I know the slim odds of successful magic re-regulation can make a new contract feel pointless. I promise you aren't the first witch's partner to feel that way, it's a perfectly normal concern. It's also completely natural for your own inherent lack of magic to make you worry that you won't be compatible as a contracted familiar. That said, I think that making an effort to be an active participant in Mr. Marsh's recovery is what will be most helpful to everyone involved. Mr. Marsh. Mr. Bailey. Yourself. Ms. Ritter's loss is clearly still affecting you three deeply, and I truly believe this can help you all heal," the doctor's smooth, almost practiced lecture is quickly cut off with a small cough, "Not that I'm trying to pressure you to make a decision one way or another. Like I explained earlier, there are several other treatment options that could prolong Mr. Marsh's expected lifespan, and you obviously need to take time to think them all over and come to terms with this situation for yourself. You've been clinging to that mug of tea hard enough to crack the handle, after all." Dr. Jones laughs lightly, creating faint cracks in her own professional atmosphere. She adjusts her thin, almost invisible metal-frame glasses as if to try and rapidly repair the break in her office persona.

The last seven(ish) lines from my short story WIP "Hidden Talent" (where the main character has used "hunger" as a metaphor for the creative urge to paint):

Again, for the second time in a single afternoon, Rowan has surprised him. Even now, they aren't joking. Even using the word that's only half-accurate, they're still taking this explanation at face value and trusting that they'll understand it when they see it for themself. True to their word, Rowan isn't brushing their best friend aside.

"I mean, it's pretty late in the afternoon now. Usually I do get, y'know, 'hungry' around now. This paint's been here for awhile, too, so I could, uh... paint over it?"

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starry-eyed-writer · 3 months

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Whispered goodbyes

Just some good old angst with three new OC's hope you enjoy :)

Somehow despite how terrible it was being used by that bastard, being put through that torture for three fucking months, I can’t help but wish I was back there instead of here. I would take any pain over this if I’m honest.

I thought it was bad enough loosing my father to whatever cruel fuck controls life but no. Then I had to lose my moms love to alcohol, lose my virginity and a hefty part of my soul to that bastard but more importantly than any part of me he took the only two people who I couldn’t lose. And now I don’t know how to handle it or what to do.

As I continue to shuffle myself forward carefully gripping my crutches I lose myself to the good memories of the time I spent with them. Finally without noticing I’ve shuffled my way to the front where the twin caskets lie. With a clatter my crutches fall away from me and with them I fall loosing myself to the empty pain and sobbing. The moment I fall, the people around me back away even further, leaving me to be alone with the two people I considered my siblings for the last four years. As I look from my left to my right avoiding the two boxes in front of me everyone I’ve come to know and come to care for looks away unable to meet by eyes. They can’t bear to see the shattered kid I’ve become any more than I can stand to feel like this. Somehow over these past five years I think I’ve lost more than I ever thought possible.

“Vivian…Zane…” I whisper their names out into the world and they float away on the wind gently carrying them both further and further away from me. Deep down I know no matter how much I chase after them or call out for them that they won’t be back but even if I know that I can’t bring myself to stop. To not try because if I give up I let go of them forever and that means losing even more of myself with them. I can’t stand that.

I reach right hand out slowly gripping the edge of Zane's coffin, inside he looks just like he always did, dusty sky blue hair swept forward and fluffy as ever with the side shave looking fresher than before. His silver jewelry looks freshly cleaned and I can see four of his five piercings on display, his bridge, septum, eyebrow, and lobe piercings all catching the rays of sun through the trees. They bring some life to him but nowhere near enough.. It almost seems wrong to see him so lacking of life, with his dark sage green eyes closed and his pierced tongue safely hidden behind his shut jaw. It all seems so wrong, so different from the Zane who would crack a joke at any moment and stick his tongue out throwing his wiggling fingers up by his ears. He’s dressed as he always was, black ripped jeans and a black hoodie contrasting his tan skin but adding to his style with black combat boots rounding it all out.

After a shaky breath I pull my eyes away from his lifeless face and reach my left arm up to Vivian's casket. She looks equally lifeless and it’s disturbing not seeing that signature smirk on her. Her bubblegum pink hair is wavy and beautiful as always, missing her signature pink heart glasses that she always wore rain or sunshine. Her chocolatey skin seems even darker without the light of her blue eyes. Her freckles seem to melt into her skin slowly. For her jewelry is a bit different golden nose ring on her right side nostril, matching snake bite studs and dangly rainbow earrings seem to be the brightest thing about her at the moment. She’s dressed up in a white tank top, ripped light blue jeans and black converse with her signature touch of rainbow converse symbol. Seeing them both like this shatters my heart even more.

Closing my eyes I whisper a silent “I love you to all the stars in the sky.” to both of them. I can’t bring myself to say goodbye though. It feels as if I say goodbye. I'm admitting they’re gone forever and it’s all my fault. Even though I know it is, I can't accept it yet. Breathing deeply as I can for a second keeping my eyes closed I pull my hands away from the caskets slowly as I can. I twist my body surly, scraping my knees even more on the forest floor. I reach from my crutches forcing my protesting body up and to a standing position. I wince hissing and pulling in a breath as I force my aching body to move away and back inside the tall building. I know everyone is watching me now but I don’t look at any of them. I keep my eyes straight ahead making my way back to my room where Kres waits for me to return from the funeral. The funeral I caused.

Hello again everyone! It's been a bit since I've posted, but I'm back and I'm here with this angst introducing three more of my OC's: Alex Cyra, Vivian, and Zane. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Have a lovely day my stars <3

-Starry

#short story #writers #oc #writing #angst #sad vibes #a #tw death #original character #starry #Star Child #oc stories

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unseededtoast · 6 months

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Ten

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

We continue on our route, leaving the cursed town behind us.

The shelf scrapes the floor with a loud squeal as we move it out of the way. Thankfully there are no infected around, otherwise this would have drawn all of them right to us. My body still aches from yesterday, and it'll probably continue to get worse today. Once the shelf is out of the way enough for us to squeeze through, we begin back on our route.

The morning sun is just barely peeking up over the horizon, meaning the air is still cool. I know it won't last long, so I savor it now. If my thoughts are correct, we should be passing through the town marked with a star within an hour or two. Something inside me is wary of this location, but the optimistic part of me is hoping that we find something useful.

As usual, our journey begins with more silence. If we're going to be going to Omaha together, I might as well start trying to break the silence to hopefully make him more comfortable talking to me. However, I will give him credit where it's due, he was rather talkative yesterday. Twisting my neck side to side, it cracks and relieves some pressure; and I wish the rest of my bones would do the same.

"Not as young as I used to be." I say as I try to get my back to crack. After trying two more times I give up and just accept that I'm going to be in pain. Joel lets out what sounds like a small laugh.

"You're tellin' me." He turns to face me, a faint trail of humor shown on his features.

"Finding a car would be nice." I say with a huff, thinking about the luxury of even the most run-down car. Joel nods his head,

"I guess you want a night at a five-star hotel too?" His humor catches me off guard, and I laugh at his joke. He looks ahead once more, focusing on our route.

"Hey if the opportunity comes around I wouldn't say no." The two of us fall into a silence once more, but this one feels comfortable and not forced, I don't feel like this one needs to be broken.

As Joel walks I notice how his shoulders aren't as tense as they have been the past few days. He doesn't make an effort to stay several paces ahead of me either. Maybe he's warming up to me after all, or maybe it's just the exhaustion. Tearing my eyes away from his figure, I look ahead and see the faint silhouette of buildings. That must be the place we're looking for.

"Look." I say and point out the buildings. Joel's eyes squint to see what I'm pointing at before he nods.

"Gettin' close. We should try to scope it out before we walk on up." He says, thinking tactfully.

"There are some trees off to the right, we could take cover in those." I spot a small area of trees off the road a ways up. The town is still rural enough to where it's not all concrete, there's still some traces of nature, unlike the QZ. He nods his head and changes our course so that we head for the trees.

Once we reach the woods, we both crouch down to muffle our footsteps. At first glance the town seems to be empty, but my instincts are telling me there's more than meets the eye here. There are several buildings that people could be hiding out in, and we would never know from this vantage point. Joel's eyes stay intensely focused on the town as I try to pick up on anything that suggests life.

After fifteen minutes of silent surveillance, I still can't find anything. Nudging Joel with my arm, I silently ask if he wants to move forward. His face looks apprehensive, but he ends up nodding. We cautiously make our way to the conglomerate of buildings through the woods. Though I'm not sure if anyone is here, going in this way is still our smartest bet.

I get to the edge of the woods first and crouch down again to check the surroundings. It's like a ghost town. But then again, it's still early enough that the occupants of this place might still be sleeping. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something just feels off. My head turns to Joel behind me,

"Something isn't right." My concerns come out as a whisper, and I wonder if he's picking up on the same thing. His eyes are narrowed, his eyebrows knitted together.

"Stay close, we go in quiet." He says and walks in front of me without another word. The curved knife finds its way in my grasp and I follow Joel out into the town, trying to keep my breathing calm and collected. We enter the town from the side, finding an alleyway to sneak down instead of taking the main road.

As we come to the end of the alleyway, my eyes land on a barrel sitting out in the middle of the main road. The black soot on the rim suggests to me that it might be a burn barrel. The windows of the buildings have all been boarded up, blocking our vision of any possible inhabitants. Carefully, Joel rounds the corner of the alley and we're out on the main road, sticking close to the front side of the building.

I see cars lined up at the end of the main street, almost like a makeshift barricade. Confirming my suspicions, I turn around and see a similar barrier on the other side of the main street. There's most definitely someone here. I tug on the back of Joel's shirt and point to the cars, seeing his face darken as he reaches the same conclusion as me.

Before we have time to duck back down the alley, a door opens across the street from us. Three men walk out lazily. My body freezes in place and I watch with wide eyes how the men turn left and go away from us. The men all look very unkempt. Their hair is long and stringy, their clothes tattered and worn. I'm willing to bet they've been out here a while.

Joel grabs my hand and pulls me into the building we're standing in front of. The space is dark, and I can barely see in front of me. But I do see a shadow move behind Joel. As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I swear I see something duck down behind the counter.

My grip on my knife gets tighter, and my elbow nudges Joel again. His head whips over to me, and I just silently point to the counter. From the looks of it, this place must have been some sort of diner. There are tables scattering the floorspace and an old menu board hangs crooked on the wall.

Keeping my footsteps silent is my top priority as we go towards the counter. Joel walks in front of me, his own knife secure in his palm. I try my best to listen for movement on the other side of the counter, but I hear nothing. However, Joel rounds the corner of the counter and I hear scurrying. Peeking around the corner, I see a man in the arms of Joel, being placed into a headlock. Too stunned to move, I watch as Joel chokes the man out until his body goes limp. Joel leaves the body and we continue our way to clear the rest of the building.

As we go deeper into the building I see several sleeping bags on the floor and supplies scattered on shelves. My hands grab what I can hold and shove the supplies into my bag. Luckily, it seems like nobody else is in this building. Unfortunately, that means they're probably all lurking out there somewhere. Once we're in the kitchen area of the diner, I whisper to Joel,

"What's the plan here?" I have a good idea of what the plan probably is, but if we're both certainly on the same page, then there's less of a chance that I make a wrong move.

"We take what we find and kill who we have to." He replies nonchalantly, like this is nothing new for him. And truthfully, this might be a regular occurrence for him. If that's the case, then I should be thankful he's here with me, and not against me. I nod my head and we continue moving.

Joel opens the back door to the diner so that we're in a back alley, not the main road. There's a door slamming across the street, followed by several voices. They all sound like men to me. I swallow my nerves and focus on the task at hand; surviving. I follow Joel closely as we move into another building, seeming to be some sort of old hobby store.

"Yeah man, he told me he was going on patrol today. Fucker keeps getting all the good shit." A voice loudly speaks as the front door opens. Joel ducks behind a shelf and I'm forced to take cover behind a display case.

"Would be a damn shame if he came back and all his shit was gone." Another gruff voice speaks. They're getting closer to us. The metal of the knife's hilt digs into my palm and I prepare myself for what has to happen. My eyes stay trained on Joel, waiting for his signal to move since he has the better vantage point.

Heavy footsteps fall just in front of the display case I'm behind, and a hand slams on the top of it, making me jump. The man's hand is large, dirty, and thicky callused.

"You know there would be hell to pay. Crazy bastard would kill us all to find his stuff and you know it." My breathing is shallow. Joel slowly motions for my to stay calm and I nod, showing him that I'm not going to do anything rash. He turns around and throws something, causing a clashing in the front of the store.

"The hell?" One of the men say, but only one of them moves to check it out. The hand on the display case stays put.

"What is it?" The man in front of me asks, his hand finally moving off the case.

There's no reply, they must be skeptical of something. Only the soft sound of footsteps can be heard, but I can't really tell where they're at. My breath catches in my throat as I see a leather boot step in front of me. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I make eye contact with the man, and he looks startled.

"There's a woman over here!" He yells out as I lunge forward with my knife. I catch the man's abdomen with the blade's curve and he cries out in pain, doubling over. My hand goes back to wind up another strike, but the injured man stands to his full height and grabs my arm. Thinking quickly, I drop the knife from my incapacitated hand and catch it with my free one, and I waste no time in slashing the man's arm, cutting it wide open with the sharp edge.

The man puts up a fight, but he's losing too much blood too quickly, and soon he falls over. There will be more coming after his tip off, and so I move towards Joel, who took down the second man without any issue. The two of us go to leave through the back of the hobby store, the way we came in, but there's something wrong with the door's lock and it won't budge.

"Shit." Joel grumbles as he tries to force the door open, but to no avail. In the front part of the store, the door opens and there's several people that come rushing in. They're all shouting incoherently and causing chaos in the small space. Joel and I split away once more, trying to hide the best we can.

Luckily I had reloaded my gun just outside of Boston, the night Joel found his stash in the store. So I know I have bullets if I need them. However, if I can use stealth to my advantage, I'm going to do that over wasting bullets on live people.

I try to tuck my body closely underneath the clerk's counter, but my bag is just a little too bulky for me to be able to fit all the way in. The approaching men round the corner and one of them spots me right off the bat. Two men come at me and before I can reach for my gun, they're on me.

Wildly, I slash my knife back and forth, trying to fend them off. They keep backing off quickly to dodge the blade, but one of them moves too fast. He tackles me to the ground, my knife falls from my hand. I reach for my gun in a last ditch effort, but my hands are pinned above me. Across the store I hear gunshots ring out and I can only hope they're Joel's.

I use my legs to try to throw the man off of me, but he's too big. His hips hold my torso down and he's got a sick grin on his face.

"Look what we got here boys!" He announces as I struggle to get free from him. I thrash and twist my body in any way that I can, but it's no use. Soon, another man's face hovers over top of me, his face full of curiosity and perverted thoughts. He licks his lips and smiles before he speaks to my captor.

"Oh she's a pretty one too. Whole team can have fun with her for weeks." He claps my captor on the back and my body is frozen to the ground, no longer able to put up a fight. Hot tears stream from my eyes and the man standing above me crouches down, his finger wiping the tears. Instinctually, my body flinches away from his touch.

"Awe don't cry now hun, we're gonna take care of you." He says sickly sweet before moving out of my field of vision. The gunshots on the other end of the store still ring out, and I hear what I think is a body hitting the floor. My chest heaves up and down in a panic as I feel someone's hands on my hips.

"She's armed to the teeth, look at all this." I feel my hunting knife being taken out of its holster and my gun is tossed from my thigh. My captor chuckles and looks down at me, his black eyes raking over my body while the other man disarms me. If he didn't have to keep my hands pinned to the ground, I fear to imagine what he'd be doing to me.

With no more weapons on me, the hands drift to the button of my jeans to undo it. I try to thrash and kick and fight back to get them off of me, but I think it only makes them more excited. My captor laughs as I sob, the man behind him trying to tug my jeans down.

Suddenly, the hands are gone from my hips and a shot rings in my ears. My captor whips around and I see a bullet go right between his eyes. The man's full body weight falls on top of me, making it even more difficult to breathe. Luckily, the weight is moved off of me and I go to hit whoever is coming for me next.

My swinging fists are caught and I'm looking into familiar brown eyes. It takes a moment to register that it's Joel looking back at me. His eyes are wide and there's blood splattered on his face.

"They're gone, they're gone. It's okay." His voice tries to soothe me but I can't stop the sobs that come through me. He lets go of my fists and I lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling as if my body had become permanently bonded to the linoleum underneath me.

After a few fleeting moments, my breathing has started to level out, though the tears continue to fall. I muster up all the strength I have and sit myself up, quickly redoing the button of my jeans with trembling fingers. My dirty hand wipes my nose and I gather my weapons, putting them all in the correct places.

Without another word I stand to my feet and stumble out of the store. I hear Joel behind me as I turn the corner of the store and get sick in the alleyway. My hands are on my knees to support me as my body ejects whatever was in my stomach. Ragged breaths shake me and I close my eyes, trying to calm myself.

When I find it within myself to open my eyes, I turn around and see Joel standing away from me, a concerned look on his face. I readjust the straps of my backpack and wipe my mouth on my shirt.

Though I would love nothing more than to get out of here, I still have to search these buildings and the corpses for anything useful.

I go building by building and search all that I can. Some buildings have canned goods, others are full of old shoes, old clothes, and other old items. It looks like they used these buildings for anything and everything, there's no organization to this chaos.

As I walk to the last building, I see Joel going through the corpses in the store we were just ambushed in. He's checking their pockets and taking their ammo. With quiet gratitude, I focus back on clearing this building so we can get out of here.

I open all the drawers and go through the shelves, only to find a deck of playing cards. There's nothing useful here. My hands grip the edge of the counter and I close my eyes in an attempt to keep my composure. If we went through all of that for nothing, there will be no words to describe my anger.

Joel comes back out to the street and I meet up with him, still sniffling. He offers me a small smile and tilts his head,

"Ready to get out of here?" He asks and I nod.

We continue on our route, leaving the cursed town behind us. The day is still young, so we have the rest of daylight to travel. Hopefully we get as far away from here as possible. My eyes stay trained on the road below me, and I count my steps to keep my mind occupied on anything except what just happened in that town. For once I'm thankful for Joel's silent nature.

Part Eleven

#joel miller #joel miller hbo #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller series

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warsamongstthestar-keen · 7 months

Text

Chapter Forty-Two

What started out as a simple planetary inspection soon grew to be very dangerous when two Inquisitors appeared from the sky. Ezra and Kanan had taken on Fifth Brother, while Keen and Leia, with the borrowed lightsaber, took on the Seventh Sister.

"I'm thinking this planet's not gonna work out as a base after all," Ezra jokes, clearly trying to clear some of the tension from the air.

Keen ducks under the Inquisitor's lightsaber, and it swipes through the air, where moments earlier her neck had been. "Well, seeing as the key part of secret base, is that it's location remains secret, no, no it will not work, like, at all."

Kanan barely holds back a laugh, as he calls out to his Padawan, "Where's Chopper?"

Instead of Ezra responding, as he was expecting, Leia, who is deeply concentrating on not dying, says, "I signalled him. He's either lost, or he's ignoring us."

Keen watches her Padawan fight, trusting her senses to guide her in her battle, making a mental note to give the Princess more lightsaber training, and maybe a blaster. Kanan, upon hearing what Leia said, grunts, "Oh, he's not lost."

"So, he's ignoring us then. Remind me why we brought him?"

"Someone has to fly the ship," Ezra reminds the Jedi Master.

"Ah, right." There's a break in the conversations, as the Inquisitors increase on their attack. Seeing a chance, Keen shouts out, "Cross!"

The Knight and his Padawan move, now fighting the Seventh Sister, while Keen and Leia attack Fifth Brother. He growls, as he launches himself at the clearly untrained Princess. Ari'abel quickly steps in front of her, blocking the strike. "And here I was thinking we were finally rid of you," he snarls.

"Oh, come on now. You didn't seriously think handing me over to the Empire would kill me did you? You must've realized by now, Fifth Brother, it takes a lot more power than what Vader possesses. And if Darth Vader can't off me, what chance do you have?" She feigns cockiness, knowing deep down that she was completely at Vader's mercy, and the only thing that kept her alive was the tiny shimmer of Anakin Skywalker, deep down inside the mind of the deranged Sith Lord.

Her mind completely on the battle in front of her, most of her energy being extended to protect Leia, she almost misses the conversation going on with Seventh Sister, who is trying to flirt with the Jedi Knight. Kanan, ever the wordsmith, looks her straight in the eyes, and says, "I don't go for crazy" he hesitates a few seconds, before adding, "anymore."

Master Quinara laughs at that, "You really had to add that last bit, eh, Kanan?" she inquires, flipping smoothly to Fifth Brother's other side.

"Just shut up would you. Trying to concentrate here."

"Oh?" she asks, parrying the forceful shove of a lightsaber to her face, "Am I distracting you from your new girlfriend? Do forgive me, I know that three's a crowd."

Ezra doesn't miss a beat, while Seventh Sister releases a probe droid onto Kanan's head, he calls out, "If three's a crowd, what does six make?"

"An orgy."

Fifth Brother snorts, and then glares at the Jedi Master. She cracks a smile at the glare, "So, he does have a sense of humour, who knew your mind was such a dirty place, pervert."

Ezra easily shoots the probe off Kanan's head, but gets thrown to the cliff edge in the process. He shouts for his Master, who quickly grabs his arms.

Seventh Sister starts to approach the duo in the perilous situation, seemingly forgetting the other Padawan. Keen gives a small hand signal, while lunging at the Inquisitor. Leia immediately runs at the Inquisitor, blocking Seventh Sister from attacking Kanan, giving him the chance to pull his Padawan back up to solid ground. Kanan scoops his hilt from where he had set it on the ground, turning to assist Leia in her fight. Ezra whips his saber out, dashing over to Ari'abel. He slashes at Fifth Brother's blade opposite the one he is attacking Keen with. The Inquisitor begins to spin it very quickly, the blade slashing Ezra's arm, very badly. He lets out a scream of pain, which causes Kanan to turn and look at them. Keen quickly disignites her sabers, shoving both Inquisitors back, away from the cliff face, and the Padawan. Leia looks at the cliff face, and calls to her Master, "I think I've got us a ride." She gestures to the cliff with her chin.

"Alright," She nods at her, "Kanan, grab Ezra, and get ready to jump."

"Jump? You're crazy!" Yet, as he shouts at both Jedi Master, and her Padawan, he wraps an arm around Ezra's shoulder, racing for the edge of the crevasse.

"Now!" Leia calls to the others, and jumps off the cliff, Keen is right beside her. Kanan, with Ezra in tow, leaps just behind them.

The group of four land directly on the back of a Tibidee, Ezra grunting in pain. Keen scoots over to Ezra, while Kanan turns incredulously to Leia, and asks, "This was you?"

"Yep. Pretty neat, huh?"

"You're getting there, kiddo," Keen replies, while gently raising Ezra's arm. The boy hisses in pain, glaring at the Jedi Master. "Calm down, Ezzie. It's not like you lost your whole arm. You'll be fine."

"It hurts. A lot!" the boy protests, trying to keep the hot tears threatening to leak from his eyes at bay.

"Well, no kriff kid. I'll heal you once we get to the Phantom."

Just then, the Phantom, with Chopper in the pilot's seat, flies directly in front of the Tibidee. He opens the ramp, and grumbles at the quartet. Kanan looks over at Keen, and Ezra, "After you."

The Jedi Master carefully lifts the boy, jumping from the Tibidee into the hold of the Phantom. She gently lays him on the bench, as Kanan and Leia enter the ship. Keen closes her eyes, focusing on the burns on Ezra's arm. She can sense the intense pain he's feeling, and feeds him a calming effect. She turns her focus from the boy's pain, to the wound covering his limb. Keen focuses solely on seeing the skin knit back together, and lose the angry blistering skin. She can sense him healing, the pain he's feeling greatly decreasing in the process. Once she's certain that his arm is fully healed, she pulls her hand back, dropping it to her side.

Sliding her mask off her face, she's met with a look of awe from both Padawan's. "What?"

"When you said you could heal," Ezra starts, looking at his arm, "I didn't think it would be this complete, or this quick."

"I forgot you've never seen anyone be healed by the Force," Keen states, dropping onto the bench beside Ezra. She gently rests her head into her palm, balancing her elbow onto her knee.

"It's really impressive, Master,"

Ari'abel doesn't respond, which prompts Kanan to turn and look at her. "Is she asleep?"

"Healing takes a lot of energy," Leia states matter-of-factly.

Ezra looks at Kanan, as a thought strikes his head, "Hey, Kanan, what's an orgy?"

He grumbles something under his breath, "Why don't you ask Keen when she wakes up?"

"Okay," he shrugs. "That was a close one, wasn't it?" Ezra adds, dropping his feet to the floor.

Kanan accepts the change of subject. "Yeah, another close one," he grumbles.

"What's wrong?" Leia asks, turning to look at the Knight.

He collapses into the pilot's seat, turning it around quickly. "Everywhere we go we run into those guys, and I don't like it. If this keeps up, we'll never be able to help the rebels establish a base."

"So what are we gonna do about it?"

"I don't know. But it's endangering the whole squadron. We're gonna need advice on this." With those words, Kanan turns the chair back around, opening up the comm.

#wars amongst the stars #ari'abel quinara #wats #star wars rebels #au fix it fic

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mattel-is-nobody · 10 months

Text

Time to brainrot about something I guess since I'm being kept up with a migraine.

Now you probably wouldn't think it from looking at me, but I am actually very, very much deeply obsessed with linguistics. To an unhealthy degree, some might say. And one of my favorite linguistic concepts is "This is a stupidly hilarious pun in Language A, but it makes no sense in Language B" The prime example of this is an old Sumerian/Babylonian joke that at this point has had several thousand video essays written about it. You know the one: "A dog walks into a tavern. 'I can't see anything!' he says. 'I'll open this one.'"

And who could forget the Greek Philosopher Chrysippus? In one of the accounts of his death, it is said that he got a bit too drunk at a party and, upon witnessing a donkey eating figs, he said "someone should get that donkey some pure wine to wash down the figs!". He then fucking died of laughter at his own joke. Beause apparently that was the funniest shit he'd ever seen.

Now neither of those make sense in any living language or modern culture, but the fact that it was written down at all means it made enough people laugh for it to be worth recording. And it's fun to look at living languages and see what makes the native speakers laugh but still utterly baffles everyone else. Even better, digital archeaologists in a thousand years are going to have a field day with this post if they ever stumble upon it, so here are a few of my favorite untranslatable puns: Hungarian: A man is pulled over by the police. The officer asks, "Are you drunk?". The man replies, "No, sir, Ivett is my wife"

Japanese: Why dont Hawaiians go to the dentist? Good teeth.

Finnish: "A bar and a screwdriver". That's the entire joke, by the way. Set up and punchline, apparently both right there, and in the original Finnish it's only two words. Apparently it's a reference to something? I'm just going to assume this is a thing you say and people laugh, much like "omae wa, mou shinderu"

Spanish: What fruit is the most patient? It's a pear. So fun fact, my Aunt is from Mexico, and I decided to tell her this joke in the original Spanish (which as a consequence of having a Mexican aunt, I speak pretty well). And I shit you not that as soon as the words "es pera" left my mouth, she let out the longest, heaviest, most world-weary sigh I have ever heard in my 20 years of life, before returning to the tamales she was making. I guess she now knows that my pun game has transcended to include her native language, and in that moment she was preparing herself for the ensuing decades of Spanish wordplay

Another from Japanese because they are gods of wordplay: "7-Up, Pepsi, Coca-Cola, they're all types of what?" "Soda?" "That's right!"

Chinese: "Who is Mi's mother?" "Hua, because peanuts". I took Chinese in high-school and I can verify that this is the shittiest pun I've ever seen, but the reddit user who posted it says "I am yet to find a single Chinese/Taiwanese person who does not find it hilarious"

Aussie English (which I'm including both for English rep and because Aussie slang is so markedly different that Brits and Americans are still unlikely to get it): "What's the difference between fat and cholesterol? You can't crack a cholesterol".

Danish: One sign says to another, "Are you married?" The other replies, "No, I'm divorced"

AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE: French: "He wished to be Caesar, but he died as Pompey" -- George Clémenceau, commenting on the death of President Felix Faure (I refuse to explain this one or give any further context, go look it up)

Oh and side note. Obviously, no world leader can speak every language, so interpreters are a necessity for negotiation. And of course, world leaders and diplomats are going to try the lighten the mood occaisionally with humor. But for negotiations between most countries, that's hard to do, because there are very few puns with much cross-linguistic utility. Sure, you have that one joke about where cats go when they die that works in English and most Romance languages, but for some more serious negotiations, the number of puns that would make sense in both languages is pretty close to zero, and may very well BE zero. So the question arises, how do interpreters deal with that? Of course there are a lot of possible methods, not all of which are good or even remotely efficient. You could just translate the pun word for word, but as evidenced by the fact that that's literally what I did above, it's not gonna work that well. Explaining the joke also isn't gonna fly, because as we all know, the second you explain a joke is the seond it becomes Not Funny Anymore. The method I've found that I think works best is just to say "They have said a pun that doesn't translate well to English. Laugh now." Which is funny not just because it works, but because it works amazingly. That person on the other end of the table (who we are assuming doesn't speak a lick of English) has no clue what the interpreter is saying, and so must assume their joke was translated faithfully. Sure, their interpreter might know depending on how the whole thing is set up, but considering the vetting process you have to go through to be an interpreter for the POTUS , I highly doubt anyone is going to risk national security over a joke being left untranslated. Both leaders have a laugh, everything ends on good terms, and we avoid nuclear annihilation for another few weeks.

#linguistics #language #puns #terrible puns #bad puns #rambles

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rtstrauser · 1 year

Text

The Dekota-Nightwing Chronicles, Part 2

Part 1: The Great Doomsday Event Begins

After escaping the hospital and finally meeting daylight he started changing form growing a black bird mask on his face, large black feathered wings on his back, black claws on his hands, and black talons forming on his feet, and growing what seemed like a sharp blacked feathered robe around his body, but after this Dekota Nightwing was met with his first battle the master demon Gailia the master demon of the ground otherwise known as he who shakes the ground and causes droughts. Gailia said to Dekota "we were told a lil birdy slipped out from infernis in search of a human vessel in hopes of killing all the master demons and angels to and try and stop The Great Doomsday event that will be released upon humanity hahaha, but it's pointless as it already started here come the meteors now signaling the start of this great doomsday event" Dekota just stared at Gailia with his bright red eyes breathing deeply as the meteors rained down causing chaos and destruction. Gailia then said to Dekota "not one for words I see, am I but a joke to you when it is I who causes all the cracks in the ground, all the farmers crops to die, and causing all ground life to die mwahahaha I AM GAILIA THE GREAT MASTER DEMON OF ROCK AND SOIL AND I DEMAND YOU TO ACKNOLEDG…….. " a brief moment of silence was met as Dekota slashed through Gailia as if he were nothing. Following that Dekota spoke ever so slightly saying "I don't speak cause all of you pieces of trash aren't worth my words, now I'll be on my way now theres a human girl I need to pick up" upon saying that Dekota started to dash and run in one direction closing his wings racing to Lucy T Kaimans House.

Part 2: The First Battle

But the fight wasn't over yet as Gailia regenerated and chased after Dekota constantly causing big boulders to fall upon the ground trying to hit Dekota. Gailia said "that was quite rude of you thinking you could simply just end me with a single slash as if I were nothing from your long black claws and then running off" Dekota looked back for a split second then sped up running even faster. Then Gailia spoke yet again saying "very well if your going to just ignore me as if i'm not here then how about a race lets see who can get to this girl first you or I hahaha" Dekota sped up even more quickly unfolding his wings and jumping up into the air kicking Gailia straight down to the ground with a impact great enough to cause a crater in the city street then quickly closed his wings and landing right back on the ground and just kept running again. "damn you black crow demon that hurt you'll pay for that your nothing more than a mere lil birdie anyways" said Gailia as he dashed towards Dekota punching him causing him went flying through a building and into the ground.Dekota quickly jumped back up in the air unfolding his wings again and strikes Gailia making him fall into another building then lands back on the ground running yet again almost at Lucy's house. Gailia then rushed right back at Dekota but he blocks with his wings and spoke the words "Im tired of little game your pathetic now die you damn bastard" Dekota releases a large shadow creating spikes to rise up out of the ground and impales Gailia then ripping him apart with black demon blood raining everywhere where the only last words Gailia spoke "imposs..ible…the fu..ck…,," Silence only followed as Gailia was now tore to pieces and this not coming back. After that Dekota finally arrived at Lucy T Kaimans house which was nearly destroyed and on fire.

Part 3: The Girl

Dekota was concerned and started digging through rubble finding 2 charred and dead corpses 1 of a man and the other of a woman, but then Dekota heard groans of pain he dug through the rubble some more finding Lucy almost dead and barely clinging on to life, Dekota picked her up and then she passed out. Dekota then quickly ran to the nearest intact hospital which was in the next city over. So Dekota started running, surrounding himself in shadowy lightning and running at very high speeds to the next city running past all the destruction and chaos that was happening in the current city.

By: R.T Strauser

#dark #short story

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bippot · 2 years

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Hercules & Megara - Chapter 4: Earning A Soul Back

Story Summary -> Childhood friends have a habit of drifting apart. Usually, it's a natural thing. Usually, there's a slow detachment. Adrian never wanted to detach from his best friend. But he thought he had to.

Chapter 4: Earning A Soul Back Summary -> Comas are a bitch, yet it allows Adrian and his buddy to reconnect. She stays at his side as he moves from the hospital and back into his home, and plans to remain there for the rest of their lives.

Tags -> Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Childhood Friends, Parental Divorce, Fist Fights, Bullying

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

Previous Chapter -> The One That Got Away

Seeing Adrian with all those tubes and wires in him was horrid. He looked so helpless, so fragile and vulnerable that Y/N had a hard time looking at him at first. After all, her best friend was hooked up to machines and monitors like some sort of science project.

"Hey, Y/N," Chris interrupted her thoughts. She hadn't said a word to anyone yet and she wasn't even sure how long she'd been sitting there, staring at Adrian. Her hands were shaking as they held tightly onto the plastic chair she stood beside.

Y/N nodded at Chris, not trusting her voice to come out without cracking, then turned back to Adrian. Her eyes kept roaming over his face, taking note of every little feature that had changed. His forehead was bruised a very deep purple colour, and his lips cracked in a frown between the tube in his mouth that made Y/N's stomach churn uneasily. He had a broken collarbone and several fractured ribs. That car crash had really rocked his shit.

He looked horrible...and Y/N hated it.

"Do you want to go inside and talk to him?" Adebayo asked softly. She'd never met Y/N before but she could tell from just looking at her that Y/N was deeply affected by seeing Adrian like this.

"What do I say to him?" Y/N replied weakly, her throat closing. Even though she'd spent countless hours sitting beside him, talking and listening to him ramble about random things, now she couldn't think of any topic that would be worthy.

Emilia held open the door and answered, "Whatever you think he'd like to hear. He might wake up. He might not. It's worth a shot."

After a quick reassuring look at Chris - who gave her a soft push and a tender "Go for it, sugar tits" - Y/N stepped past the threshold, slowly making her way towards the side of Adrian's bed. Every step felt more excruciating than the last, and the tears that welled up behind Y/N's eyes threatened to spill out when she saw him lying still and silent beneath the harsh hospital lights.

"Hey, loverboy. Sorry if I'm disturbing your beauty sleep," she joked feebly, trying not to sound too nervous as she took a seat beside him on the chair and placed her hand on top of his, squeezing gently. "I didn't expect this was how I was going to see you next."

She tried to laugh a bit but it came out as more of a strangled gasp. A tear escaped down her cheek and rolled down the curve of her neck. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard as her heart ached, yet she continued.

"I know you'd want me to carry on pretending that I have no idea that you're Vigilante. I think we can skip past that at this point." She paused and smiled sadly. "It doesn't matter what you call yourself...well maybe it does..."

Biting her lip anxiously, Y/N hesitated before admitting, "I haven't forgotten, I don't think I can ever do that, but I could forgive in time. I don't know how much time. When you wake up, we can try." Her thumb brushed against his cheekbone tenderly, tracing over the cute mole there as she pleaded, "Please wake up so we can try," and then she leaned forward to press a light kiss to his forehead.

The room fell into silence except for the constant beeping of the heart rate monitor. Y/N watched Adrian's chest rise and fall with every breath, and she listened intently for any sign of life. The minutes ticked by painfully slow and eventually Y/N sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair and rubbing at her teary eyes.

Days went by of much of the same routine. Sometimes the nurses or doctors would stop by to check up on his vitals and exchange pleasantries. It took very little lying to convince them she was his next of kin since, well, she had been written down as his secondary emergency contact. So, with their permission, she stayed in his room and only ever left if she needed a pee. Soon she found out that sleeping upright in an uncomfortable chair was torturous on her neck, but she couldn't miss a single moment. What if he woke up alone? That wasn't happening on her watch.

Y/N had even tried to read whatever was on Adrian's medical notes, which consisted mostly of medical jargon that meant absolutely nothing to her. At least there was a lot to look up to keep herself occupied. But that didn't make anything better. If anything, it made her more worried about his condition. She wanted to help him, and she desperately wanted to know what was wrong, yet there was no way she could.

"Y/N, you've got to give yourself a break," John attempted to persuade her after he walked into the room one afternoon, having finally managed to catch her off guard. "Come on, go take a shower or something. I can watch him for an hour or two."

But Y/N shook her head stubbornly, not moving an inch from her chair. She had no intentions of going anywhere until Adrian awoke, whether it took her sanity or not. All members of the 11th Street Kids tried and tried to coax her away with only one success.

"Please," Leota added gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We placed an order at Fennel Fields, please come with me to pick it up."

At this point, Y/N hadn't been outside for just under a month. She seriously needed to stretch her legs.

With a kiss on his forehead, Y/N gave in and reluctantly followed Leota to her car. The sunlight was a sight for incredibly sore eyes after being cooped up inside for so long that she winced, blinking until her vision cleared up and the colours came back to her world.

"You'll be okay, honey. He'll wake up," Leota murmured as she put her hand around Y/N's shoulders comfortingly. Y/N wasn't so sure about that these days, but she nodded anyway and followed Leota across the parking lot.

They made it to Fennel Fields and picked up their meals in no time. It was a rather uneventful trip and that's exactly what Y/N needed to clear her mind a smidge, even if only for a minute. As they were about to head back out of the door, Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder and she whirled around to find Frankie there.

"I heard about Chase. Any updates?" he asked, giving Y/N a concerned look as she shook her head silently. "Oh."

Next thing that she knew, her old bully was pulling her into a hug, holding her as tight as possible. She didn't return his embrace because she was too shocked to, but nonetheless appreciated the gesture. Frankie pulled away quickly and looked at Y/N, worry clearly visible on his features.

"You know, I've always wanted to admit something to him. Can I pass on a message?"

"Yeah...yeah, sure."

Frankie stared at her, as if weighing his words carefully in his head and then let out a sigh, looking directly at her with his eyes filled with guilt.

"Tell him that the reason I messed with him so much was that I was completely jealous of him. It always seemed like you two had found who you were supposed to be with from the get go." He glanced around briefly, checking whether someone was watching them. "Here I was, with no siblings and my parents were always at work. All of my friends were scared of me. I was totally alone. And he had everything. With you, he was never alone."

At that comment, Y/N froze in shock. For the first time in days, she cracked a smile and let out a small chuckle, almost as if she was surprised to feel such relief, despite the fact that she was feeling pretty fucking awful inside. If she weren't in public, she would've burst into tears. One single tear fell, but she wiped it away before he could see.

"Well, thanks, Frankie," Y/N said with a small shrug. "I'll...uh...tell him."

Then with a nod, Leota and Y/N hurried back to the hospital where Y/N instantly returned to Adrian's side to recount what Frankie had said to her. Still nothing. No movement. Nothing. Just quiet beeps, the steady rhythm that would be etched in her head forever. Y/N sat there, holding Adrian's hand tightly until she got tired and laid down next to him, placing his head on her chest, so that if he did wake up, he'd wake up to the sound of her heart.

Sometime the next morning while Y/N was still asleep, the slow and aching process of Adrian opening his eyes began. His eyelids fluttered weakly for a few seconds, then the dull white light slowly grew brighter and wider as consciousness started to come back online.

Everything hurt; his whole body, especially his head, was throbbing relentlessly. His thoughts were sluggish and incoherent, barely able to hold together any thought at all, even though his brain kept telling him to try to move his fingers...but he couldn't move. He couldn't even lift his head enough to examine his surroundings.

All he could make out was the ceiling and the thump of someone's heartbeat steadily beating away against his right ear, but it was soothing and rhythmic and oddly familiar. His memories were vague and distant, as if they were from another lifetime, but he knew for a fact that he'd heard it many times before.

Accompanying his new awake state was a completely different beeping noise as his breathing became irregular. And after hearing it for so long, even in her sleep, Y/N noticed the change and woke up, sitting up quickly with wide eyes.

Nurses and doctors were soon in his face asking him questions, none of them making sense to him. He just tried to focus on Y/N, his foggy brain unable to form a single syllable. The medics carried out the appropriate tests, checking his temperature, heart rate, breathing, etc.

He was pale as a sheet, but judging by how relieved they seemed, he was fine. He'd be a little groggy and disoriented for a while, but he'd be okay. That was all that mattered.

"Hey, loverboy," she giggled once the medics left, pressing the palm to his cheek tenderly and stroking it lightly with her fingertips. He tried to answer her, to say something coherent but all that came out was a hoarse cough. "Shh, it's alright, don't try talking," she whispered lovingly before leaning down to kiss him softly on the temple. "You thirsty?"

That earned her the tiniest twitch of an eyebrow, but it was the best he could do at the moment. She brought him the water from beside his bed and helped him sip at it, smiling happily when he drank some.

"Good. So good," she hummed, brushing the hair from his brow delicately and wiping the remaining droplets with her thumb, her face glowing with affection. Then suddenly she frowned, taking both his hands in hers. "I'm going to take care of you whether you want me to or not."

The corners of his lips raised mere millimetres, yet she saw his response for what it was. Her heart soared to somewhere near its maximum capacity as a wave of sheer relief washed over her.

Not long after they had word that he'd awoken, the 11th Street Kids all crowded around him, chattering animatedly and filling the room with their cheerful laughter. He smiled fondly when he caught sight of them, even though it still took a lot of energy to do so and he seemed confused about everything he came in contact with.

After that first day, more of his systems and senses returned to him. Within two days, he could move his face, arms and neck, which was a big deal. The very first thing he'd done was bring Y/N's knuckles to his lips, pressing gentle kisses all over them, eliciting a smile from Y/N. He spent hours just staring at her and tracing every single line of her features and body with his fingertips, his eyes constantly scanning her for any sign of injury or discomfort, but to no avail.

"Hey, no pinching," she laughed breathlessly when he got her cheek between his thumb and forefinger and tugged lightly at it, a grin spreading over his lips. He rolled his eyes but complied immediately afterwards, releasing her skin and bringing his palm up to rest it against her cheek instead. They stayed like that for a while, simply savouring each other's touch, until eventually one of the nurses came to do his daily check in.

"How long have you two been together?" the nurse inquired as he looked over at Y/N and Adrian curiously. Adrian gave the nurse an odd look, glancing at Y/N, then back at the nurse.

Touchy subject.

Yet, to make things easy, Y/N replied without hesitation. "Not long enough," she stated, shooting Adrian an amused look.

Her answer got him thinking. It took him a while to realise why that sounded hopeful and he finally understood. Y/N wasn't trying to imply that they weren't not dating, she was saying that she wasn't ready to be called girlfriend yet.

It still hurt a bit though but he got it somehow.

When the male nurse left, Adrian brought his fist to his ear and outstretched his thumb and pinky. "You want your phone?" Y/N whispered. Adrian nodded, a goofy smile coming across his face, and she retrieved his cell from her pocket and handed it over. He tapped on the screen a couple of times, put in his passcode then found what he wanted and showed her.

'Attempt 2162

For the first time in ages, I care about whether I come back from this mission because I've been a twat all these years and want, no, I need to make it right. Why did I ever think that I would be able to live without you? I've survived by myself, but I'm not living. Not really. Everything is fine in the grand scheme of things, just passable. Not good. Not great. Not even mediocer. How could it be without you? Without our life? The only thing missing in my whole world is you.

I threw everything away because I didn't want to lose you too, which is so stupid because my actions didn’t help in any way. I still lost you and the worst part was that it was my fault. You, Y/N, are the only thing I really want in life. So why did I think I could ever leave you behind? And even though I know the truth now, how can I ever forgive myself for doing this to you? How could I do this to myself?

There's so much I didn't tell you. There's still so much I haven't told you. But maybe someday we'll get the chance. Maybe we'll start all over again and I promise that I won't fuck up majorly again. (I know I will have minor fuck ups so I won't promise that bit. I'll try not to but we both know I'm a fucking idiot.)

Y/N, my love, without you I've been living without a soul. Ask anyone who's seen my criminal record and you'll hear it a hundred and ten times over. I really believe I sold it the day I left you.

Hopefully there's a way to earn my soul back.

Hopefully there will be a tomorrow.'

Tears welled as she read it, and he had no idea whether that was a good thing or not. All he knew was that it meant everything to him and made him feel like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and into the air. He felt better and lighter and infinitely happier than he had in years, possibly decades.

"You spelt mediocre wrong," she pointed out with a grin, snickering when he stuck his tongue out at her. The corners of his lips curved upwards even further when she kissed his forehead, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she leaned back and pressed her head against the pillow beside him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand resting on the curve of her hip and pulling her closer, his other arm tightly clutching onto her shirt.

It took all his effort to croak out, "I'm so-rry." She gave him a knowing look, one that said she already knew what he was apologising for, and touched his cheek tenderly again with the pad of her fingers.

"I know, I know you are... You're gonna have me wrapped around your finger forever, aren't you?" she teased gently, letting her eyes travel to his own. He smiled at her softly, nodding in agreement.

"For...forever s-sounds nice."

His progress over the next few days was slow and he slept a lot more regularly than usual. When he finally was able to sit up straight, he insisted that Y/N should go home and rest. She protested vehemently at first but finally accepted his request when Chris promised her that he'd call as soon as anything happened.

At home, Y/N's parents were ecstatic to see her return, and they were more than happy to feed her. They were worried sick about Adrian, and their daughter. The last time they'd seen her was when they came to visit Adrian when he was still in a coma. That was over a week ago. They made sure to pull out all the stops to make sure she stayed for the night.

Because she needed it. She'd never looked so tired and dishevelled before in her entire life. They fed her a proper home cooked meal, making sure to let her choose her favourite dishes, all while keeping her occupied so she didn't have a chance to even think about going back to Adrian tonight. A warm bath was run for her so she didn't have to stink like a hospital room. And she got to sleep in an actual bed, her bed that was warm and comfortable. She fell asleep almost instantly as her exhaustion finally caught up with her.

She woke up in the morning feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, having slept better than she had for ages. That was clear to all who interacted with her during those days, and it had been proven by several people to be true. Even Adrian couldn't help himself but beam widely as she entered the room in her fresh clothes and looked radiant.

Attempting to wolf-whistle, Adrian failed miserably, yet continued his compliment with a "Beautiful, as usual."

"Keep it in your pants, horndog," she joked back playfully, leaning down to peck his cheek affectionately and sat herself down beside him. He reached for her hands and intertwined their fingers together, smiling softly at her.

A month later, he was basically back to his normal loud, dorky self. He talked Peacemaker's ear off again, and, for a moment, Chris was happy to hear him talking. That was until he said, "I’m so glad we have brown cows, otherwise there wouldn’t be any chocolate milk," and Chris remembered how stupid his friend could be.

Soon he was allowed to go home, and Y/N's parents insisted that he stay at theirs. Adrian declined, but was thrilled to hear that the compromise was that her mum would force Y/N to live with him. Neither of them minded that. It was like a constant sleepover. Every single day the two of them spent together; waking up, eating breakfast, working out, watching TV or movies, playing board games, and generally getting to know each other in an intimate manner. She tried her best to re-teach him the everyday things that he'd seemingly forgotten.

The accident had caused him to have episodes of memory impairment, which caused him to ask the same questions over and over again and was unable to remember important details or memories easily. Yet, the only thing he always remembered was her face. One day when she'd finally gotten a part- time job interview, she got a call from Chris in the middle of it and quickly explained to the interviewer so she could take the call.

"Episode?"

"Yeah, he's asking for you."

"Okay, I'll be home in twenty."

She apologised profusely to the interviewer and left as soon as she could, knowing full well that she hadn't got the job. But, that was fine. Thanks to all that government money that Adrian had been paid to keep hush about his accident in the field, they could get by on that for a while longer.

"Y/N!" Adrian yelled excitedly, standing up from his seat on the floor to hug her tightly. "I haven't seen you in so long."

During his episodes, the doctors told her to go along with what he said and not correct him as it makes him more jumbled up. "I've missed you, Y/N," he admitted quietly, burying his head into the crook of her neck. She smiled as she closed her arms around his torso and held him close, rubbing soothing circles into his back.

"I've missed you too," she murmured gently.

"Where am I?" he asked suddenly, looking up at her when she placed a kiss atop his head. "Where's Gut?"

Oh, it was going to be a difficult episode. Chris watched as Y/N gently answered all his questions with almost a learned ease, a sad smile on her lips as she responded. It broke his heart a little to see that expression as she repeated whatever he needed her to say to calm his mind, her hand continuously running through his hair while he listened to her every word.

Overtime, the episodes began to decrease in frequency, but they still persisted every once in a while. Once he'd gotten better and had a full evaluation, he was allowed back into the 11th Street Kids.Admittedly, his reintroduction was a little sooner than it should've been. One day, Chris happened to look across at Adrian as he was filing and saw the perplexed expression on his face. "Call Y/N," he instructed Leota as he guided Adrian away from all the dangerous weapons on the desk and into the back room. He sat him down and waited patiently as Adrian looked around cautiously.

As soon as Y/N arrived, she began the process that she knew so well. During some of the silent gaps between questions, she overheard some of the team's plans. And forty or so minutes later when Adrian had regained himself, she explained, "If you go for option B, it's technically a bit more legal. As long as there's a sufficient clean up, I expect that it would fly just under the radar," when they walked back out again.

"That's government secrets, you could be killed for knowing that."

Adrian exclaimed, "They'd have to kill me first, Harcourt. Before they'd even touch her, they'd have a bullet between the eyes." And he meant that literally.

What Y/N had said got Emilia thinking. While the law had never been the squad's first concern, they were racking up so many charges against them - as all strike teams do - yet, it would be beneficial to attempt to keep that number as low as possible. What if Waller turned around one day and gathered their list of crimes to throw them in jail. It would be a lot. But, with Y/N as a legal advisor of sorts, it could be less.

Plus, she could wrangle Vigilante and that was always a benefit to Harcourt.

So, it was done. Y/N was an unofficial member of the 11th Street Kids. Her involvement was kept quiet, and her status as a consultant kept her safe from the public scrutiny.

Time went on with everything going swimmingly. It was a gentle breaststroke of sorts. Yet, Adrian tried his hardest to up the pace. They hadn't spoken about what had happened before. She wanted him to be fully recovered so it wouldn't spook him or cause him to leave again. And they were toeing the line between really physically affectionate friends and PDA-phobic lovers. And he desperately wanted to vault into an incredibly touchy lovesick married couple.

A whole year after his accident was when things started to change one evening when he saw her with a pile of documents that she'd brought from work and spread out on the kitchen table. She looked beyond stressed as she scanned through them and simply that wasn't going to happen on his watch.

"Come here," he whined, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"Five minutes, Adrian."

"No."

"Two minutes."

"Better, but still no." He started swaying them side to side in time with the music she always put on when she was working, hoping to get her to relax. He kissed her shoulder blade and continued to plead, "Dance with me?"

Y/N gave in instantly and turned in his arms, her arms around his neck, allowing his hands to rest on her waist where they belonged. She assumed they'd be slow dancing, but no. He stepped back and started attempting to twerk, causing her obviously to start laughing.

"Am I doing this right?"

"Not at all."

"What if I get all Magic Mike with it?"

Wiggling towards her, played with the hem of his shirt, and pulled it upward ever so slightly. She almost doubled over when he started slapping an imaginary ass to the beat, his eyes twinkling with delight as she laughed maniacally.

"Stop. Oh god, what even is that move?"

"I call it the hump train."

His name for the new dance move he was trying was a pretty good description of the way his body moved. She giggled uncontrollably as he got closer and closer to her till he was playfully grinding against her, grinning widely. She couldn't help but laugh again as he wiggled his hips in the air for dramatic effect, his eyes sparkling in the dimmed lights.

"You're ridiculous."

"And you love it, I can tell."

She sighed and stopped smiling as she realised it was time. One hand went to the back of his neck as she slowly pulled him down to meet her in the middle, resting his forehead against hers. Their breathing grew heavy, both trying to contain themselves, yet failing miserably.

"I forgive you," she admitted softly, her voice barely audible above the music and the soft hum of the refrigerator.

As soon as her sentence ended, she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hand reaching up to hold her chin in place. The look of love in her eyes was all he needed to slowly inch his lips to hers, stopping halfway so she could give him the go ahead, which she did. It started out light, just a touch, just a testing of waters. And once he was sure, he kissed her again and again. She placed her hands on the side of his neck, her thumb moving back and forth, making sure he didn't pull away.

"I promise, I promise I'll be so good for you," he whispered against her mouth. His breath tickled her lips and made them tingle as he spoke, causing her to pull back for a moment to give him a wide grin, her thumbs running gently along his jawline. His hands travelled down to wrap around her waist and pull her body flush against his own, holding her firmly against him.

All of a sudden a not so distant noise was heard coming from next door. A man's voice carried loudly and clearly, causing Adrian to freeze and turn concerned, but soon calmed.

"About time, loverboy!" Y/N's dad cheered. Normally, he would go into protective dad mode™️, but he had always hoped this would happen. Everyone who knew them did. The pair sheepishly chuckled as they pulled apart like teenagers who had been caught doing something they shouldn't have.

"Dad, it's super creepy of you to watch us make out!"

"He's not wrong," Adrian joked as Y/N pulled them out of sight of her parents to the living room. Now he'd gotten her affection again, there was no way he could ever go without it.

As soon as they were definitely out of sight of her parents, he spun her around to face him and cupped her cheeks tenderly in his hands as he gazed down at her. There was nothing but pure adoration in his gaze. A gasp escaped her as he nibbled softly on the sensitive skin at the base of her throat before lightly sucking and biting at her jugular. He chuckled against the warm skin of her neck before confirming, "Mmm...I'm not sure if I can live without this."

With each word, he nipped and sucked harder against her skin, making her arch upwards into his touch. "Let me be good for you." Another kiss was pressed against her neck, causing her to tilt her head backwards to give him better access. "Please."

"I love you so much," he murmured softly before pressing his lips to hers passionately. Her arms came to grip around his neck and the kiss deepened, becoming increasingly heated by each passing second. His tongue swept inside her mouth as he pushed her backwards until she stumbled onto the sofa, pulling his weight down on top of her.

"I've been dreaming about your body for the last 11 years. And here and now, you look just as good, if not better, than what I remember." He pretended that he hadn't rehearsed that line every time the thought of her popped into his head. He had so much practice that the line delivery was perfect. A perfect balance of yearning and suaveness. He mentally applauded himself for that one.

Lust took over her body at the sound of his words, and she couldn't stop the immediate wetness that filled her mouth or the sudden heat that began to spread from between her legs. "You do look a little different, I must say," she said, trailing her hand down the front of his shirt, feeling his muscles beneath.

All the tension they had built up slowly melted away as he continued kissing her hungrily and possessively, leaving little space between them. She let her fingers wander through his brown curls as she returned his advances. With their mouths together, they slowly began to undress each other, completely lost in their own world.

It took him several attempts to unbutton her blouse eventually until he got frustrated and ripped it off , allowing her chest to be free for him to roam all over. "No bra?"

"Don't pretend like you hadn't noticed before," she teased as he nuzzled his head into her cleavage, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine.

"Oh, I definitely noticed."

His hands soon found themselves squeezing her breasts and massaging them as he kissed them, her low groans fueling his hunger. As he nibbled his way towards her nipple, she arched up in anticipation, her body already begging for more. He continued his quest upwards, licking and sucking her nipples before continuing upwards towards her sternum. Just as her fingers reached his hair, he pulled away with a smug grin on his face.

"You are the most infuriating man," she moaned as he proceeded to lick and bite down to the waistband of her panties, his tongue gliding across the material and causing her hips to buck forward. "God, I need you..." She trailed off, grabbing a handful of his hair and urging him to continue.

Roughly, he bit into the flesh of her thigh and dragged the tip of his tongue across it, his movements deliberate as he worked his way up to her centre. He licked and sucked at her clit, teasing it further before sliding his tongue inside her, feeling her heat surround his mouth. He swirled his tongue in and out, his hands travelling over her body as she held onto his hair for dear life.

"You've got better at this," she laughed breathlessly before biting on her bottom lip as his arm hooked around her thighs to pull her further against his face and delve further inside her. She squirmed, feeling herself reach her peak and she grabbed his hair tighter to ground herself as her muscles quivered, trying desperately to keep herself from exploding.

Adrian could feel his cock twitching as he watched her body convulse. He used his teeth and tongue to tease her and stroke the bundle of nerves as the tightness within her body built up and she began shaking violently. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth hanging open as she released her orgasm with a high pitched cry, releasing her climax onto his tongue. He held her in place whilst her entire body vibrated, enjoying the moment as he drank in every drop of her pleasure.

Yet, he didn't stop. Instead, he continued his task of making sure she felt everything he wanted her to feel. His tongue flitted around her clit, swirling around and stroking it, while his fingers danced nearer and nearer to her opening, eager to slip inside and make her come again.

"Want me to finger you, baby?" he asked as he lifted his head off her, giving her a brief moment of respite, allowing her to catch her breath. She nodded vigorously and he slid his finger into her wet pussy, his movements firm and fast, creating waves of intense pleasure throughout her body.

He pumped two fingers in and out repeatedly while keeping his focus solely on her face, making sure she could see how aroused he was at her reactions and expressions, her mouth wide open in ecstasy, her breaths rapid, her pupils dilated and her whole body flushed.

"How in the hell are you so good at this?"

"It's easy. I've got at least 15 on Dex," he responded, smiling up at her as he continued to move his fingers.

"You're being humble; this is at least an 18."

Every moan, every twitch of her lips, every whimper that escaped her parted lips gave him a reason to keep going. Each sound, each sensation he felt building up, fueled his lust for more. His mouth returned to her clit while he kept pumping his finger in and out.

Rocking her hips, she joked, "At least this will get you to shut that big mouth of yours," and moved her hand to his hair, urging him on. He increased the speed of his tongue and she moaned so very loudly that she slapped her hand over her mouth just in case it was loud enough to be heard by the neighbours. You know the neighbours, her parents.

"You love this big mouth of mine," he teased, kissing her thighs. As he went back to work with his mouth, he added a finger and continued to drive her wild. "See? You wouldn't moan like that if you didn't."

"Fuck.. fuck, fuck," she cried as she writhed underneath him. He watched with a smile as her legs fell open wider as she gripped the sides of his head, her nails digging into his scalp. She closed her eyes, moaning his name loudly and letting out an even louder cry as another wave of pleasure hit her.

Y/N let her head fall to the cushion as she panted heavily, sweat dripping from her brow and her hair stuck to her skin. She looked up to find Adrian watching her as if he wasn't even close to done yet. His hands reached out to caress her face, his thumbs wiping away some of her sweat before placing gentle kisses across her forehead.

"You do know that I'm going to do that every time I get the chance," Adrian stated with a certain brand of nonchalance that only he could pull off perfectly. "Gonna have my face in that pussy as often as you'll allow."

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes ma'am," he smirked confidently. "One that I intend to follow through with."

"Well then, you better hurry up and finish what you started," she said with a sly smirk, winking at him as she ran her fingers down his chest to rest on his hard cock. But then she noticed that his glasses were disgusting looking and ordered, "Glasses off, four eyes."

"No. I want to actually be able to see you."

Reaching out, she took them off his face and wiped them against the pillow behind her. Still a bit grimy, but better. It would have to do for now. She put them back on him and confirmed, "Aye, aye, captain. Ready to rock."

So, he leaned back on his heels, he smiled devilishly as he leaned over to kiss the inside of her knee before guiding his cock against her entrance, teasing her slightly before entering her. Y/N gasped at the feeling of him stretching her wet walls and he let out a growl before burying himself to the hilt in her core, stilling as she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly against her.

Slowly he pulled out and pushed back into her, his movements measured, savouring the moment as he tried to prolong it as much as possible, making sure to enjoy every last bit of pleasure from his love.

"Kiss me, baby," she whined, taking his chin between her thumb and forefinger. He obliged instantly, capturing her soft lips with his own, kissing her deeply and lingering on every one of her sweet moans. He moved in and out with ease, driving his cock deep and fast as they shared heated, passionate kisses. Her hand roamed down his back, gripping his ass playfully and pulling him closer as her lips parted to allow him deeper access.

With every stroke he brought her closer and closer to her release, feeling his own build in excitement and arousal. He pressed his mouth to her pulse point as his thrusts became quicker and rougher, causing her to scream and arch her hips upward, bringing a new wave of pleasure that hit her harder than before.

"Can't believe I get to fuck this cunt for the rest of my life," he said huskily, grinning as he continued slamming into her, feeling her pussy clenching around him as she screamed and begged for more. He pulled away briefly to grab a hold of her wrists, pinning her arms above her head as he continued fucking her relentlessly. Her cries and gasps for air were almost deafening as he fucked her mercilessly, filling her completely until she shattered all over him.

The feeling of her juices coating his cock sent him straight over the edge himself as he exploded within her, spilling deep inside her as he emptied himself completely. Their foreheads bumped as they leant forward and tried to catch their breath. Hearing the little noise of their heads, she comfortingly caressed his area of impact.

Panting heavily as he slumped against her neck, he rested his head there, unable to move at all, unwilling to break the blissful silence. She wrapped both her arms securely around his shoulders and rested her cheek against the crown of his head as their bodies calmed down.

"Unless you plan to fuck me again, stop moving," she whispered when she felt him push his cock (that he'd yet to remove out of her) deeper, causing her body to tense up once again.

"I am planning on it," he grinned as he placed light kisses along her neck, trailing up to her ear to whisper, "Do you want me to move?" and punctuated his sentence with a firm roll of his hips. She answered with a sharp intake of breath, arching her pelvis towards his and whimpering softly as she felt him move and begin thrusting again.

There was no doubt that it was going to be a long and tiring night.

Fully sated and completely exhausted after who knows how many rounds, Y/N let her forehead fall against Adrian's shoulder, her eyes shutting peacefully with a heavy exhale as she straddled him in a lazy embrace. "That was some serious fucking," she joked, feeling utterly drunk on him.

"I think I need a nap."

"Lucky we've got tomorrow off and can spend the entire day in bed."

But, despite how spent she was, it was almost an involuntary motion to sloppily suck at his neck, her nails scraping along his back as she did so. It drove Adrian crazy and he couldn't help the groan of pleasure escaping his throat. "Stop it, don't tempt me," he warned gruffly, turning his face to look at her just long enough to give her a warning glare. "I don't think I have any energy or cum left."

"You got enough energy to carry me to bed or are we sleeping here?" she questioned with a coy grin.

And without needing to think, Adrian quickly scooped her up, wrapping her leg around his waist to keep her from slipping off him and carrying her effortlessly upstairs and into his room. As soon as he entered the room, he lay her gently on the mattress before he remembered something, "Oh, wait. I totally forgot to say. I bought you something," and searched around in his wardrobe for her gift. "Close your eyes. I didn't have time to wrap it."

Closing her eyes as he said to, she held out her hands and waited as he placed the present in them. From touch alone, it was heavy and about the size of two jars of mayonnaise. Had he bought her jars of mayonnaise? Not quite. She opened her eyes to find an old figurine that had once been part of a set. In her hands was the colourful miniture of Megara, beloved of the famed hero Hercules.

"Woah, her waist is even tinier in person!" she exclaimed in surprise as she admired the figurine. "How did you find it?"

"I've been scouring Ebay ever since you came back from Chicago and it only popped up three weeks ago."

"You didn't have to-"

"I did."

She turned the toy in her hand, admiring its beauty, not believing how easily such a funny looking object could have meant so much to her. "It's beautiful. Thank you, wonder boy," she replied sincerely and held it close to her heart. His smile softened as he saw the emotion that shone in her eyes and he couldn't help but reach out to curl into her side, wrapping an arm around her abdomen.

"Made sense that I'd have Hercules and you had Megara."

The idea was sweet but "Hate to inform you but in the original Greek tale Hercules kills Meg when he goes batshit."

Fuck. That's nothing like the Disney movie. He looked shocked for a second, then pretended that he had heard something. Faking hearing a conversation, he loudly lied, "Baby, some strange voices are telling me to..." He dramatically placed his hand at the base of her neck and slowly moved it higher as he continued, "I can't stop myself. I'm resisting the urge to tombstone you. Run... run before I..."

"My love, what are you..." she trailed off to make some very wet sounding throat noises, playing her part as the strangled damsel pretty well. "I am dead."

"People don't usually announce that they've died."

"Well, they should. It would clear up a lot of confusion for their coroners."

Like he always used to, Adrian waited until he presumed she was asleep and placed a kiss on her forehead, professing, "I love you," into her skin. But, she wasn't fully unconscious yet and repeated it back to him sleepily.

"And if you ignore me for another decade after this, I will be really pissed."

His response was to nuzzle into her collar, where he would stay for as long as she'd allow. "Never again. I'm dumb but not suicidal. Another 11 would kill me."

Within that moment, he finally allowed himself to truly feel at peace and calm. The past year had been rough on him but with her by his side, helping to heal him and bring him back to life, he knew everything he needed, wanted and deserved. And right now, he was content, satisfied and loved beyond belief. For the first time in his life he felt complete.

In the morning, she was glad to find him still next to her. Still asleep. He hadn't left and never planned to again.

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17 notes · View notes

willowwhispersspeakeasy · 3 years

Note

poly zing. mc zining with everyone and having a mild melt down cause what the fuck XD

authors note (before writing): I wanna make this like a cute crack drabble buuuut im shit at writing comedy or crack of any kind so we shall see how this goes (spoiler allert: it didn't work.)

poly “zing” soulmate au w/ demon bros

“zing” au tag

warnings: gender neutral reader, reader is a bit of a skeptic, rowdy family violence and physical abuse (nothing beyond in game normality), some spoilers for lesson 16

words: 1.5k

seven demons sat around the table. the eldest seated at the head, sighed deeply.

“so we are all in agreement then.” he confirmed finally.

“we ain’t agree on shit!” piped up the man to his right. Mammon was visibly annoyed, along with about half of the demons present.

“this is so embarrassing.” grumbled the man to Lucifer’s left. his purple fringe falling in his eyes as he slumped onto the table. now resting in the same pose as the youngest brother.

“what about MC?” Beel pipes up.

“what about them?” replies Satan, hes not as visibly annoyed as the others but his shoulders as still taught with anger.

“I think what Beel means is, how do they feel now having ‘zing’ed with all of us.” Asmo chimes. hes a little unnerved too. sharing his partners usually doesn’t bother him but this is a once in a life time thing! and now he has to share his soulmate’s attention and affection with his 6 brothers.

a silence falls over the table. most of the men present had been to distracted by how this would change their dynamic with MC, not having worried about how the poor human might feel.

“I'll go talk to ‘em.” Mammon begins to stand from his chair.

“why do you get to talk to them about this huh?” the youngest demon raised his head, glaring at his elder.

“yah! cause I'm their first man that's why!” Mammon grinned.

“if we’re talking about the ‘zing’, Lucifer was actually their first.” interrupted Asmo. six pairs of eyes turned to glare at the oldest brother, who simply sighed again.

“I will call them, and ask them to join us here. then we can all talk to them together.” Lucifer stated, pulling his D.D.D out and proceeding with the phone call.

what kind of sick joke had your life become. homework had never been your friend but trying to concentrate on deciphering the notes Solomon so kindly let you copy was extra difficult, given your present circumstance.

there was seven of them, the seven lords of hell. you’d sneaked your old human world phone onto Levi’s wifi just to search them up, and good god in heaven what you’d found. the artwork alone left you shaking in your boots.

normally you’d just brush it off as some weird twisted neo-christan mythology, but now you had all seven of them not only standing before your eyes, but each claiming to be your “soulmate”.

if Jesus is real your life sounded wilder then one of his parables. you made a mental note to ask Simeon about that later.

nearly jumping out of your skin at the sound of your D.D.D ringing, you were surprised to see it was Lucifer. pressing the call button you put the phone on speaker, to lazy to lift it to your ear.

“hello?”

“MC, please join us in the-”

“OI! we needa talk to ya!” Mammon’s voice quickly cut Lucifer off. there was a sound of a chair squeaking against the ground and a shout, presumably from Lucifer shoving Mammon over.

“what Lucifer was trying to say was, please come see us in the dining room~ we’re all here waiting for you MC~” in the scuffle you assume the phone was passed to Asmo.

“bring snacks.” the faint voice of Beel could be heard over more shouting.

“talk to you in a minute~ byeeee~” and with that Asmo hung up the phone.

you sighed, leaning over as your forehead hit the desk. you had barely been able to properly process everything, BEFORE all this soulmate shit.

a part of you wanted to crawl out the window and sneak off to purgatory hall. Luke’s sweets and Solomon’s wit were a welcome distraction. and Simeon’s gentle and warm nature sounded like a great comfort right about now.

speaking of sweets, you stood and stretched your back. wrapping yourself in a blanket for comfort, you took a deep breath, before beginning to make your way to the kitchen.

the large bag of chips was placed in Beel’s lap. your presents in the room firstly ignored by all but the twins. Belphie offered you a sleepy smile as you placed the blanket over your shoulders in your lap instead, taking your seat opposite Lucifer’s at the other end of the table.

the shouting stopped when Asmo called your name in a cheery sing song voice.

Mammon screamed as Lucifer let go of him, having the pale hared demon drop to the floor with a notable thud.

“Lucifer, be nice to him. he’s your little brother.” you instinctively scolded the eldest. Lucifer huffed, shooting one last deadly glare at Mammon as he returned to his seat, smoothing his suit and straightening his shoulders.

“ah, MC. glad to see you’ve joined us, taking your time.” there is a bite in the eldest’s words.

“surprised you could tell time given you were distracted about to roll Mammon up in the carpet.” the monotone voice was muffled from where Levi was still laying on his arms.

the third born yelped as a strong swing of Lucifer’s palm smacked the back of his head.

“Lucifer!” you scolded him again, the whole table falling silent and staring at you. you knew this behavior was normal to them. the bickering, yelling, fighting, and very real threat of physical violence from the eldest.

“your brothers don't like you because you’re physically abusive! stop it! and leave them alone.” you scolded once more, staring head on at the dark gaze of the first born.

Lucifer growled, a deep animalistic sound you’d only heard a couple times before. the other demons at the table recoiled upon instinct, no one wishing to incur the wrath of the eldest.

you stared the demon down, not breaking eye contact. if you were really here, and this was truly your situation at hand, you would not be pushed around like this. you refused to be threatened and beaten into submission like he had done to his brothers.

“you have two options Lucifer. listen to me, or kill me. again.” the air hung heavy with the very real threat you just dropped at his feat.

“...very well.” Lucifer broke eye contact. smoothing his suit again, the anxiety of watching him swallow his own pride buzzed like static in your ears.

“well... we wanted to talk to you about the ‘zing’ situation.” Satan was unsurprisingly the calmest, speaking up. everyone else still held led on their tongues by the passing of power that just transpired.

“yeah I think that's a good idea Satan.” you nodded, hands fidgeting with the blanket in your lap. “I know many of you have... rocky relationships with each other to say the least,” you began. “and I'm sorry to slide into your lives and complicate things further.”

“you don’t need to apologize.” the gentle voice of Beel pulled your eyes up from your lap. “having you around has been good for us, all of us.” he smiled.

“...I agree.” all eyes turned back to Lucifer once more.

“we all care about you a lot, and it’s probably overwhelming for you now being tied to each of us.” added Asmo, offering you a gentle smile and a wink.

“you have no idea.” you sighed, blanket pulled up to your chest now. you felt something soft placed in your lap. looking over you saw Belphie had offered you his pillow.

“yaknow we care aboutcha a lot. we want ya to be safe.” Mammon rubbed absentmindedly at the patch of rug burn on his elbow.

“I care about each of you as well. I'm just... not sure how this is going to work out.” you sighed, arms shaking as you buried your face in Belphie’s pillow. gentle hands of the twin’s rubbed your back as the overwhelming nature of your predicament over came you.

the smell of Asmo’s perfume registered in your mind as another pair of arms wrapped around you as you sobbed. you were pulled into someone’s lap, presumably Beel’s, and your blanket wrapped tighter around you. a gentle weight rested on your legs, what you could guess to be Belphie’s upper body, and a pair of hands brushed your hair and rubbed your back. the soft words of encouragement were Asmo’s as he pressed kisses to the top of your head.

as your crying began to subside, a glass of water was placed in your hands by Satan, a thinly veiled look of worry on his face.

the three eldest brothers remained frozen in their seats. Mammon had been so worried something like this would happen, but he knew if he tried to steal you away it would only get worse. he had been so torn on what to do and now he sat, heart aching in his hands.

Levi didn’t move beyond lifting his head to witness what was happening. he sat there is silence, watching, an outside observer. his eyes traced your form, watching his brothers wrap you in comfort. envy pooled in the pit of his stomach, but surely he’d just make everything worse. he always made everything worse. his head dropped back down, arms squeezing himself harshly.

“I think that's enough for this evening.” Lucifer’s voice was strained. if you listened closely you might just hear his old age showing for the rare occasion. the eldest brother stood, not glancing back as he was the first one to leave the room.

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