#like all of the time but the meds just make them more manageable. put me at a baseline to sit w them better.

[lilacerull0]

i feel like reading/watching mbf immediately means knowing who i am as a person and... i cannot allow this

[moe-broey]

Hhnghb

[mrfoox]

Uh. Like month... 4... Without an big breakdown and im 😳 what.... Wha

[sanguineterrain]

Hello sanne! I have a request, if it inspires you: what about reader who's been hurt and has amnesia when they wake up. And Jason is there and reader gets all flustered because pretty boy alert!! Pretty boy is speaking gently to them!! And in actuality Jason and reader are together. I hope that made sense 😭 love your writing so so much!!

this is such a sweet request!

jason todd x gn!reader. tw medical setting, reader is on pain meds and has been in an accident, major major fluff, established relationship.

****

The first thing you notice is that your mouth tastes... not good.

You try to swallow and clear out the taste. All that happens is a useless smack of your tongue. Your throat is too dry for any swallowing to happen.

"...been out for about twelve hours. Yeah, I've been here the whole time."

You're pretty sure that you know that voice. You're drawing a blank on that voice's name, but you swear you know the voice.

"They're awake. Yeah, bye."

It's deep and warm and soft and yes. You definitely know the voice.

Okay. Opening your eyes.

You do so with substantial effort. Your vision is bleary. All you can make out are blobs of gray. You've got a lot of eye boogies in your eyes. You can feel them.

But you're not really sure about where your hands are at this moment in time, so the eye boogies will have to camp out for a little longer.

"Hey." The bed shifts. That warm voice gets closer. "Hey, hey. Y'thirsty?"

A straw taps your lips. You clumsily take it and drink until it gurgles and there's no more water.

"Yeah, I'll bet you're thirsty. Want more?"

You shake your head. A cool, rough hand pets your forehead. Oh, that's nice. That's very nice. The bedside manner in this hospital is impeccable. A little forward, but you don't mind. The voice and his hand are both very polite.

Time to try to actually see some shit. You hone in on your vision, putting every iota of brainpower into processing what your eyes are telling your brain.

A figure. A man. Huzzah!

Oh. Oh, wow. A very beautiful man. A big, hulking, beautiful man.

He's young, boyishly handsome. His eyes are bright. A scar is etched from the top of his right temple to his lip. There's a white streak in his dark hair. Is that a trend now? You can't remember.

"Where 'm I?" you ask.

"You're in the Batcave. How much do you remember, honey?" the gorgeous, beautiful, dreamboat nurse asks.

Well, you remember being in a car, and then being ejected from that car, and then hot, blinding pain, and then... waking up.

"Car accident?" you manage.

Pretty Nurse nods. Is he a nurse? He looks more like a biker, with his leather jacket and empty holsters. He looks like he could pin you down with one arm and—

Whoa. Chill.

"Yeah, kinda. There was an explosion. You hit your head pretty hard." He strokes the back of your head, frowning. "How do you feel?"

You feel like your head has an anvil tied to it. But it's okay, because look at this biker-nurse! Wowza!

He takes your hand (you have hands! Huzzah!) and strokes your knuckles with his thumb, which is fine, actually, because he has really nice eyes. You want to tell him.

"You h've nice eyes," you say.

Pretty Nurse blinks, looking startled. His cheeks go a little pink. "Oh. Um, thanks, baby. Y'sweet."

Baby? Do you really have that much rizz as a medical patient? You can't imagine how irresistible you must be when you haven't been in an explosion.

But then everything shatters when you look down and see a silver band on his hand. What the shit! He's married? Or engaged, at least. Son of a biscuit.

And he's flirting with you? What a pig!

You snatch your hand back, suddenly sour. Pretty Nurse raises his eyebrows.

"What's a'matter?"

"You have a ring," you say, voice dripping in contempt.

"I—" He looks down. "Uh, well, yeah. I do."

Devastating. "If you're taken, you shouldn't be flirting with me, jerk."

He squints. "Wh—oh. Oh. Huh."

Pretty Biker Nurse looks like you've just said something funny. You don't see what's so funny about infidelity. May God strike him down!

He smiles coyly. "D'you know who I am, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you say, glowering. "Y'just a no-good philanderer who should be ashamed of hi'self. Don't care how handsome you are; I won't enter your web of lies!"

He laughs, bright and sweet. Damn him! You need a different nurse. This one is the epitome of temptation.

"Oh, baby. Oh, you're too cute. Can I take your hand?"

"Not if you're gonna flirt more," you say, lifting your chin. "Dirtbag."

"Your moral code is incredible, honey. Good to know I'll never have anything to worry about, though I never doubted you. Can I show you something, though?"

He lifts your hand and on your finger is a gold band. More delicately shaped than his ring, but similar.

"Oh my God," you say, panic growing. "I'm cheating on my husband."

He laughs louder this time. "Your fiancé, actually. Wedding isn't till August. And no, honeylove. You're not cheatin', 'cause I'm right here."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. Your hackles raise for a moment until... wait...

"You're my fiancé?" you ask, eyes huge.

He smiles shyly. "In the flesh. Y'remember my name?"

You feel like it's a J name. "J..."

"Jason," he says gently. "Yeah, wow. They got you on some pretty strong meds, huh? Leslie said you should start to remember more stuff in a day."

Jason. Pretty Biker Nurse Jason. Holy moly. He's engaged to you? About to marry you?

"You are so pretty," you blurt.

That makes Jason more shy. He smiles like he's done something he's not supposed to do. "Not as pretty as you, honey pie."

"No, you're... I mean, wow. Sorry I called you a jerk. How did I get with you? That's crazy. You're fine as hell."

Jason snorts, wide shoulders shaking. His cheeks are red. "Jesus, you're shameless."

Well, yeah. You're still not sure this isn't a dream. You have to let your fiancé know exactly what you think about him.

You prepare to tell him something smooth and romantic. Something about how kissable he looks.

"Y'look like a sexy biker."

Hm. Not exactly what you had in mind. Your brain feels like a blue raspberry slushie.

Jason grins. "Oh, yeah? That why you been starin' at me? Didn't know you had a thing for bikers. You're terrified of going on my motorcycle."

How does he know that? It's true; you like bikers from afar but you're not about to get on a death machine, thanks.

"You can rev my engine," you say, head slumping against the pillow.

"Oh my God," Jason says, clearly delighted. "Don't think I've ever seen this reaction to pain meds."

"Can't believe we're engaged," you say again. "How'd we even meet?"

"Well, I'm a vigilante of sorts, and the first time we met was after I saved you from a mugging. And then we kinda just... kept running into each other. You bought me coffee without realizing who I was. And we, uh, fell in love. As people do."

"You proposed to me in Spain," you say suddenly, the memory rushing back. "You... you wanted to prove you wouldn't put work above us."

Jason nods, lacing your and his fingers together. "Yeah, that's right. Three weeks in Spain." He pulls out his phone and shows you the lockscreen. It's of you two. Jason has sunglasses on. You're smiling. You can't remember ever smiling like that before.

Tears suddenly spring to your eyes, emotion smacking into you like an eighteen-wheeler. Jason leans in, concerned.

"Baby? Hey, what's wrong? Something hurts?" he asks, inspecting your head.

Your mouth quivers. "You... you love me so much."

Jason stops, tilting his head. "I... uh, yeah. 'Course I do. You're the person I love the most in the world."

That makes you cry, tears running down your cheeks. Jason's eyes widen in alarm.

"Sweetheart? What's—hey, it's okay. Why're y'crying, huh?"

He brushes your tears away with his thumbs, cradling your face. You sniffle.

"I'm s-sorry I called you a dirtbag," you blubber. "Y'not a dirtbag. You love me so much."

"Oh-ho, oh, honey. Baby, you've been unconscious for twelve hours. You're under heavy medication. I know you didn't recognize me, it's okay. Trust me, I've been called far worse," Jason says tenderly.

Dear God, you're a beast. What kind of person doesn't recognize their own fiancé?! You cry harder.

"I should've remembered you! I'm a bad fiancé," you wail.

"Aw, sweetheart. No, no, it's okay. C'mere."

Jason scoots you over slightly and pulls you into his arms. You cry into his shoulder, slobbering all over his sexy biker jacket. He rubs circles on your back.

"You're really cute and nice and I'm glad y'marrying me," you say, muffled in his shoulder.

Jason hums, the sound vibrating through you. "I'm really happy to be marrying you, sweetheart. You rock my world."

You sniff. "Really?"

"Mmhm." Jason kisses the side of your neck. "How 'bout you sleep a little more, hm? I bet you're exhausted."

Now that he mentions it, you do feel pretty worn-out. Especially after crying. And almost getting blown up.

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Absolutely, honey. I swear."

Jason eases you onto your back. Your eyes are beginning to feel heavy.

"Sleep, beautiful. I'm right here."

[andhumanslovedstories]

Last two shifts I worked, I had the same patients but was precepting (training) different nurses. So two nights in a row, I have a patient with a post-op complication (guts not moving) that the surgeons are taking a conservative approach to (wait and see if the gut starts moving). This treatment plan makes sense for the specifics of this patient, but that means we’re doing a lot of symptom management without directly treating the thing that’s causing the symptoms. In this case, symptoms are pain and nausea so bad that the patient said if they’d known this is how they’d feel after, they’d have skipped the surgery and just rolled the dice with what that colon polyp would do if left alone.

So we’re throwing meds at this patient, we’re walking them so their bowels can get moving, we’re giving ice chips and gum and cold wash clothes, we’re giving IV fluids (which is SUPER rare in the hospital right now because due to one of the recent hurricanes, we are critically low on IV fluids), we’re doing basically all my tricks short of putting another tube in this guy. And it’s working okay. Like we’re keeping pain and nausea just below “intolerable” but not by much.

That first night I have that patient, while I’m talking to the surgeon on the phone, my preceptee is in the room talking to the patient. I don’t get any new orders because most usual meds that would help are contraindicated in this particular circumstance. I’m feeling frustrated about that—I HATE when I can’t get symptoms significantly under control—when my preceptee comes up excitedly and says that the patient says they’re feeling much better after the therapeutic intervention my preceptor did. The intervention was hanging out in the room for 15 mins and talking with the patient about their hometown in Canada.

(Which, hell yeah. Very proud of that new nurse because she said one of the biggest things she wanted to work on was being less nervous talking to patients.)

Next night, I got the same patient, still miserable, and a new preceptee. We’ve got more meds this time, but still only marginal success with managing symptoms. I tell my preceptee, “next time you’re in the room, plan on staying and chatting with the patient for like ten minutes.” Next time we’re in the room, we do just that—we talk sports, hobbies, plans, past surgeries, how much this surgery sucks, just the three of us shooting the shit for a while before we have to go give pain meds to another patient. (It was a surgical floor. That night was mostly handing out ice packs and oxy.)

Anyway, the patient tells us that this chat has been the best they’ve felt all night. My preceptee comes out of the room, and my preceptee is like “wow that really was our best intervention.” And I get to be like “yes witness the power of chit chat as nursing intervention.”

Reflecting back, I’m grateful that the patient was so expressive about what we did that was working. I told the patient at one point, in the midst of their most acute misery, that we were going to give them everything we had available, and if that didn’t work, I had backup plans in mind. Like you might spend the night miserable, but it’s not because we didn’t keep trying stuff. And after I say that, the patient goes, “that was good, I like that you said that, that comforted me.” Which was very nice and convenient because before we’d gone into the room, I’d talked to my preceptee about how to make patients feel supported and cared for, even when none of the care we do is working. When we left after that, my preceptee was like “wow, you’re right, that really worked,” and I was like, “I KNOW, that’s cool right? I mean you always hope it works, but sometimes you just can’t tell if it actually does.”

I love really open patients, they are such fantastic teaching opportunities. For example, I had another patient both night who was also very open, specifically about what a bad job the hospital was doing and how everyone should just stay the hell out of their room. Considerably less pleasant feedback, equally valuable, about essentially the exact same situation that the first patient was in. Talking through that patient with my preceptees was also very useful and very easy, because the patient had been so explicit in their feedback.

It’s always odd training nurses because you don’t want bad things to happen to your patients, but you also need to new nurses to see bad things. And sometimes you get a patient assignment that is so good for teaching, it’s like it came from a textbook. Very convenient for me personally as a preceptor. Feels weird to say that about patients who are having absolutely miserable times, that their misery is useful to me, but (as preceptors normally say about stuff like this) if it’s happening, at least it’s happening where we can learn about it. Anyway, great couple of shifts to practice therapeutic communication.

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

[syluss-slut]

•°•°•Safe Embrace°•°•

Summary: your uterus pulls a fuck you by starting your period early even if you just had one two weeks ago, but your 6'2 boyfie is here to cuddle the pain away.

Pairings: Sylus×Reader ⚡

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, mention of period pain.

A/n: yearning is at an all-time high rn. LIKEYOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I NEED THIS MAN SO BAD HNSGBFBSHDNBHSN

You walked towards sylus's room in heavy steps. You were even surprised your body could hold on for that long.

Your period took you by surprise, coming back again after not even two weeks. Beauty of womanhood, isn't it? You spoiled your favourite pajama pants because of that and on top of all this, it was a heavy flow. In the middle of a productive week. Could it get any worse?

You knocked on his bedroom door, sylus taking not even a second knock to open it for you. As soon as the door opened, you managed to take one step in and collapsed right after. (Un)surprisingly, you didn't hit the floor, but rather found yourself in sylus' safe embrace, as he caught you just in time.

As he brought you to the bed, you silently start weeping in his chest. Tears run down your face due to the pain you were in.

Alarmed, "what's wrong, kitten?" Sylus enquires, a soft look in his eyes, concern in his voice.

Somehow, it made you cry even more. Your period hormones were driving you crazy.

He sits down on the bed, with you in his arms and now on his lap. One of his hand is on your back, soothing you and the other holds up your chin.

"Talk to me. What is it, sweetie?" He asks, a gentle tone in his voice that you've rarely ever heard him use with anybody other than you.

"Menses" you replied, in a feeble voice through tears.

"You poor thing" sylus thinks to himself.

"Let me get you some painkillers" he says, laying you down. You grab the sleeve of his gray sweater just as he walked out of your reach, making him turn around.

"Stay with me. Please" you croaked.

Wordlessly, sylus slips under the sheets beside you, engulfing you in a hug, making you the smaller spoon.

His large hand is in your hair, massaging slowly, lulling you into sleep.

"Thank you" your voice comes out muffled as you snuggled further into his chest.

With the feeling of being in a safe embrace and under warm sheets, you finally dose off to sleep, the last thing you remember being sylus' lips as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

•°•°•°(���っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)•°•°•°•

When your eyes open, you don't know how much time has passed, but the first thing you acknowledge is the sheets beside you being empty; however they were still warm.

Sylus must have gotten up not so long ago.

Almost as if summoned by your thoughts, you turn to the doorway upon hearing something, and see sylus holding a tray of food.

Your heart melts at his sweet gesture.

"Here. Eat it all and don't forget your meds" he says, placing the tray on your lap.

You decide this isn't enough, "I'm weak all over, feed them to me?" You request, looking at sylus' face to read his expression.

You hear him chuckle, followed by a nod. He picks up the spoon and does as you asked.

The outcome? A few drops of soup spilled on your lap and some of it around your mouth. You smiled at how much effort he was putting into this, which turned into a giggle, which escalated into full-on laughter.

You notice the corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly, and you don't let it slip.

Never in a hundred years did sylus ever see himself taking care of someone, let alone make them feel so safe as to be vulnerable around him. Truly, you changed his life, for the better.

You wiped your mouth clean and didnt forget the painkillers, obviously.

"Rest. I called you in sick for tomorrow" Fuck. You felt like crying again. How can this man perceive himself as 'evil' or whatever the society labels him as? He's just a sensitive soul forced to harden up.

"You know my heart never truly rests without you beside me" you confess, Patting the space beside you, lifting the comforter for him to slip into.

You lay down, and so does he. The soft moonlight in the now dim room fell on his flawless face, it somehow made him look even prettier.

Silver light on his silver hair. You couldn't possibly resist the urge to pet his fluffy hair and so you did.

"Hmm. Keep doing that" Sylus purrs.

You hug him closer, and he rests his chin on the top of your head. Both of you drifting off to sleep once again.

Who would've thought, the feared leader of onichynus, who could have no trouble putting a bullet through one's head, be so vulnerable in his woman's arm?

[spicy-apple-pie]

You know how in Batman and Robin, when Nobody finds out that Damian was only pretending to rebel against Bruce and lowkey tortures him. There’s a panel where he’s breaking Damian’s fingers.

So imagine afterwards, most of Damian’s fingers have been broken. He cannot use his hands for anything. So Bruce has to take care of him. He feeds him, bathes him (just cloth bathes, since Damian’s casts are too much of a hassle), and keeps him company since Damian can’t do a lot of what he usually does to past the time.

Damian is super pissed he’s pretty much bed bound for a couple of weeks, and Bruce can’t blame him. Because yeah, it fucking sucks. He’s sure that Damian would try to sneak away to train or something, but luckily the pain meds make him drowsy enough for him to just pout on the couch.

He also complains about Bruce trying to find something for them to watch, claiming that such things are brain rotting. Bruce begins to put on animal documentaries, which Damian seems to enjoy well enough. But then Bruce starts showing him other things, like that guy who restores old paintings, which Damian gets really into. And eventually Bruce manages to get Damian to try a Ghibli movie, probably Grave of the Fireflies since it’s more grounded in reality and Damian loves it. And they proceed to binge watch all the Ghibli movies they can find.

At one point, Bruce pulls Damian close to him, and hugs him tight. “Father, what are you-“

“Shh.” Bruce hushes, in a sad tone. “I just- I need to know you’re here. That you’re safe.”

And Damian realizes that his Father, a man he idolized and looked up to as long as he could remember, was scared. Bruce’s “death” taught him that his Father wasn’t invincible. But his Father being scared was a whole other thing. It made him… human. And that made Damian scared too.

Damian allowed his Father to hold him. And felt himself slowly melt into it. He took comfort in it too. As much as it scared him, it was almost comforting to know that his Father was scared for him. That he was loved just as much as Bruce’s other kids. He wasn’t the problem child or a demon. Damian was Bruce’s kid, his son.

And even after Damian heals and is able to care for himself, they still have movies nights every so often.

Idk having a story where Bruce has to learn to trust Damian followed by a story where Damian has to learn to trust Bruce. GIVE IT TO ME!!!

This is why we need to bring back “filler”.

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Consequences - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 2k+

Summary: 

"I barely make it down the stairs without panic Woah, I won't let it set me off"

Alternatively, 

You are no different than the cigarette between his lips - half-burnt and waiting to be turned into ashes bit by bit with time.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: Extreme angst. I repeat EXTREME angst. One very triggering concept (I'm not mentioning what since it might spoil stuff) but I have tried to keep it as implied as possible.

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

Taglist requests are closed for now

A/N: This might break your heart because this is the angstiest chapter yet.

Read the next chapter

“Are you sure you don’t want to add anyone?” Hoseok asks for what feels like a thousand times. Everytime he asks this question, you get a sharp reminder of how you have no one to add as your emergency contact, how you are completely deserted from the rest of the world and how it’s no one’s fault but yours. 

You nod your head in affirmation. To dim the helplessness in your eyes, you smile a little. 

But Hoseok is not convinced as it seems, he only sighs harder. The pen in his hand fall on the patient chart as he intertwines his fingers and looks at you as if he is trying to read your troubles out aloud.

You don’t like it. You don’t like the way he understands you are nowhere near being mentally healthy for motherhood.

“Y/N?” he calls you firmly. The lack of any formal suffix or prefix shocks you momentarily. “You really don’t want to let the father know?” 

You suck in a deep breath. You want to let Yoongi know. You of course do. You want him to be happy, you want him to say “let’s do this together”, you want him to love you back more and more and more and more. 

But you know, this is hardly possible even in your wildest of dreams. 

“He’s happy with the person he loves. I- I don’t want this baby to look like an excuse to come between them. Also…” Marrying, having kids - all these, freaks me out. Yoongi’s words ring in your head like a loud alarm, threatening you to go deaf at any given moment.

“Also?” Hoseok urges you to continue. 

“Nothing.” you give him another weak smile. 

He sighs again. Probably he, too, is done with you and your nonchalant stubbornness. 

“In that case, I am enlisting myself as your emergency contact.” He takes his pen in his fingers again and starts putting down his number in your chart. 

Your eyes go wide, “but will that be okay? I mean-” 

“This is okay. Don’t worry. We usually do this in exceptional cases.” Hoseok gives you an assuring smile. 

“Thank you.” you mumble, embarrassment eats you away. 

“That’s alright, Y/N. don’t forget to take your meds and eat a lot of fruits. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

“And also, just so you know, excessive mental stress is harmful in earlier stages of pregnancy.” 

Your chest tightens. 

“Okay.”  

You usually keep your personal cell silent. Because there is simply no reason not to. 

No one is going to call you and mull over why you aren’t picking up your calls and if anything bad has happened to you or not. 

Not even your mother. She has far more important responsibilities than you have ever managed to be. 

You have a few contacts and a group chat with your high school friends, which you check occasionally. 

That is why your heart threatens to beat out of your chest when you see unread notifications on the surface of your personal phone, that too, from Yoongi. 

He had only messaged you a few times before in this number and all of those were barely a sentence. 

But today he had sent you not one or two but a total set of five different texts, which read: 

Yoongi (15:30): “I heard you are out with an emergency again?”  Yoongi (15:36): “What is it, Y/N? Is something seriously wrong?”  Yoongi (15:38): “Please, let’s talk.”  Yoongi (15:50): “Will you please stop ignoring me?”  Yoongi (16:05): “I will be waiting for you at the terrace. If you can, come before 5.” 

Your eyes close as you leave a loud exhale out of your mouth. For a moment you question your decision of coming back to the company and make up for the time you were out. You could have just taken a sick leave. Or maybe if you checked your phone half an hour ago, you would have avoided this whole ordeal. 

But right now you are in the parking lot of the building and you will have to go inside. 

And you know very well, once you are inside, the invisible threads of your body that are connected to Min Yoongi will start pulling you towards the terrace. 

It’s 4:24 now.. So he is still supposedly waiting at the terrace. 

Maybe Yoongi is right. You should talk to him. What will you say, though, you don’t know. 

Or maybe you should just listen to him, as always, let him do the talking and see how his speeches have changed since the last time, since the time when both of you were alone. 

It’s only you, who is alone now, who is troubled. 

You have always loved Yoongi’s side profile, the soft slope of his nose, the half crescent of his lips, but then again, there’s hardly anything about Yoongi you have not not loved. 

However, right now as you watch him in the glow of the setting sun, with a half-burnt cigarette in between his lips, you wish you wouldn’t have loved him so much. 

Because, now, you are no different than the cigarette between his lips - half-burnt and waiting to be turned into ashes bit by bit with time. 

But can you though? Your life is not only yours anymore. Your life is now intertwined with another living mechanism and you are far too lost in your head to be prepared for it. 

Do you really want the baby? Or do you just want to keep a trace of a fleeting thing that Yoongi had for you? 

If it’s the second then isn’t it unfair for the unborn life? 

Will you be able to love it when you can’t even love yourself? When you can’t associate anyone else with the word ‘love’ other than Yoongi himself? 

“Hey. you came..” Yoongi’s voice pierce through the dark clouds of your thoughts. His words are laced with doubts, there is a frown in between his brows and now that he is facing you completely, you can see bags under his eyes. 

You don’t even want to think about what's keeping him up at night. 

“You wanted to talk.” you finally start walking towards him with legs so heavy that it feels as if your body will fall over their weight. 

Yoongi crushes his cigarette under his shoes, like you have let him crush your hearts in those pretty hands of his. 

Once there is no smoke lingering in the air, you step near his vicinity. 

“Yeah. but the way you have been ignoring me, I didn’t think you would come.” there is a hint of hurt in his voice. 

You don’t reply anything, rather you let your eyes get lost in the maze of concrete ahead, tall buildings aspiring to touch the sky but failing regardless. 

From your peripheral vision you can see Yoongi stepping closer to you, opening his mouth to say something and then closing it again. He probably shuts his eyes for a brief second then opens it with determination burning in them. 

“Y/N, what's wrong? I heard you have been taking leaves for regular checkups at the hospital? Are you… are you hurting?” Yoongi speaks with one of those soft tones that he hardly uses for anyone. 

It’s not the first time he is using it for you, but it sways you a little anyway. 

“I am fine, Yoongi. But I don’t understand what is up with you? Why are you suddenly so worried about me? Why are you suddenly caring as if… as if I mean something to you?” you ask him calmly, waiting for a valid answer. 

“I have always cared about you.” 

“But that was when we were- we were sleeping, right? Now you don’t have any obligations towards me. So please. Please stop confusing me. Please stop making me a fool.” you let a lone tear escape from your eye. This time doing nothing to stop it. 

“How is this even confusing, Y/N? Friends care for each other. Don’t they?” Yoongi’s voice weaves and you don’t know why. 

You chuckle dryly, “sadly enough, you are not just my friend. I am in love with you and you know that too.” 

Yoongi’s eyes widen. He takes a tentative step away from you as if staying near you will turn him into a stone; and that breaks your already broken heart even more. 

“Y/N- I-”

“I know. I know you don’t- You don’t have to. I just- I am a fool. I am sorry.” Now you are sobbing uncontrollably. Your eyes give out after holding onto your tears for a year. 

Yoongi takes a step towards you, holds you by your shoulders but now his touches burn. Your body burns under his fingers and you want to run away - run away as far as possible. 

“Y/N” his voice trembles yet again.

You hastily wipe your tears with your sleeves and run away in the opposite direction towards the flight of stairs. 

He calls your name to stop you but doesn’t come running behind you. You note that. 

Yoongi will never chase you. You are not Gyuri after all. 

Once you are half down the stairs, you sit down, try to control your breathing, convince yourself that it’s not good for the baby. 

The baby. The baby. The baby. 

Should you not tell Yoongi about the baby? At least inform him? And then he can decide if he wants to accept it with you or leave it behind too? Just like you? 

But this is not yours alone. He came to you that night and left a life inside you as an aftermath.

You stand up, deciding to take a shot, not for you but for the unborn life, which deserves the equal part of attention from its other parent too. 

If there are consequences. You will face it all. 

Climbing up the stairs, as you take a few steps towards where you left Yoongi behind. 

You see him again. 

But this time, he is not alone. He is with Gyrui, who is holding on to his body so tightly as if her life depends on it.  

Their lips are molded with each other. 

Her fingers are lost in his dark locks, his hands are placed on her side as if he is not sure what he is doing. 

You stand there. 

You stand there watching them numbly. And when you decide to turn and leave, you have nothing left inside of you. 

Your body is now a shell of something that looks like you. 

You decide to take the stairs all the way down until your legs give out. 

Your back slides down the wooden door of your bedroom. 

You let out a thunderous scream and that is closely followed by wailing. 

You cry. You cry for all the times you have loved Yoongi. You cry for all the times he didn’t even look at you. You cry for the time when Gyuri came back. You cry for the time when Yoongi left that night. You cry for today when he clearly chose Gyuri over you even when you knew this was your destiny. 

You cry because Yoongi can’t be yours and today finally ends a lot of things. 

You don’t know for how long you cry. But all the tears have left you feeling weary. 

You climb on your bed and drift off to a slumber. 

And you dream. 

You dream of yourself, and Yoongi and a baby hand that’s holding his fingers. Yoongi is smiling, he is happy. 

Then you dream of a big wave, drowning you - Yoongi and the hand of the baby have disappeared. 

When you wake up, your body is drenched in sweat, so much so that even the back of your thighs feel wet. 

The pain in your body is piercing.

But when you manage to sit up - you see a pool of blood soaked in your clothes and sheets. 

The last trace of Yoongi that you were trying hard to preserve, is gone too now.  

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Sleep II

Katrina Gorry x Teen!Reader

Summary: You forget your medication

The first and only warning flag that Mini needed was you and Kyra pulling pranks.

You'd always been a bit easily influenced by the older girls but you usually didn't get involved with pranks unless you hadn't done one thing that was meant to be second nature at this point.

So, as Mini watches you run your laps as punishment, she sighs.

"She's off her meds," She says in explanation to Charli, who is sitting nearby.

"Huh?"

"Her adhd meds," Mini elaborates as she watches Kyra try to trip you. You just barely keep your balance and immediately try to get revenge by shoving her over.

"Is she allowed to be off them?"

"I mean, technically, yes. It doesn't really matter if she misses a few doses but I don't think she's taken any this entire camp." Mini sighs as she stands, stretching out her leg before grabbing you by the back of the shirt as you jog past.

"Hey!" You complain," I still have two more!"

"Nope. Back to your room, please." She keeps her orders short so you can follow along. "Go straight in and shower. I'll be up to see you shortly."

"But-"

"Into your room," Mini insists," And shower. I will up soon."

"Fine."

You'd grown accustomed to listening to Katrina's orders. As soon as you came to live with her and Clara, you'd been put into a routine that you hadn't ever had before.

Your parents were always working and rarely home. You'd grown used to doing what you wanted, when you wanted. You hadn't even had a bedtime before moving into Mini's house and it came as a shock to you when she began to enforce one.

It had been extended a little during camp but not by too much and you were usually in bed way before anyone else in the team. It was a little annoying and everyone teased you but you didn't mind.

You didn't really cling to your routines as much at camp and really, that should have been the other sign that told Mini what she needed to know.

She's not at all surprised when she sees you lounging on your bed on your phone with no indication that you had even thought about showering.

"Shower," She says to you," Go on. In the shower."

You nod. "Yeah. Just one sec-"

"No," She insists," Now."

"But-"

"You need to shower before dinner. You know this. If you don't do this now then you won't do it later."

You frown. "I thought you wanted to talk to me."

"I do," Mini says plainly," But you need to shower first." She jerks her chin to the bathroom. "Go on. Wash you hair too."

You make a face. "I don't like wet hair."

"We've got plenty of time before dinner. Wash you hair and I'll dry it for you."

"But-"

She gives you a pointed look and you nod, shuffling into the bathroom with a towel and a change of clothes.

Mini waits briefly before relaxing when she hears the shower start running, digging around in your drawers for where you've stashed your hairdryer. You swear that you always know where it is despite it always being in a different place when Mini looks so after several minutes of searching, she manages to find it and plug it in.

It takes a while for you to return but when you do, you sit in front of her as she blow dries your hair, brushing it through once it's all dry.

"So," Mini says finally," You haven't been taking your medication."

"That's scary," You reply," Do you just know everything?"

Mini laughs. "It's the mum instincts but, really. What's up with that? Did you forget to grab a refill before we left?"

Usually Clara is the one to take you to refill your prescription but she had been busy during the week before camp and you hadn't really thought about it until a few days before.

You shrug.

"Camp isn't that long," You explain," I didn't think it would matter."

"You don't have to take your medication if you don't want to. We can find alternatives," Mini says with a hum as she pulls the brush through your hair again," Do you want to come off your medication?"

"No." You shake your head, turning it so you can look back at her. "I just forgot. Promise. It won't happen again."

Mini searches your face for a lie but it's clear to her that you're being truthful.

"Okay," She says," But stick close to me this time. I don't want Kyra being a bad influence.

"Why not?" You whine.

She grins at you. "Because you're entirely too susceptible to joining her schemes."

[bluebeary-jay]

Let me (put my lips to somethin')

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: 5 times you wanted to kiss Joel, and 1 time it actually happened (or: your relationship with Joel over the years)

Tags: 5+1 babeyyy, VERY self-indulged (i just want this man to call me his babygirl 😫), FLUFF, tooth-rotting fluff even, a bit of angst, age gap, PINING, i could write several fics out of this but no we're doing 5+1! also reader has she/her pronouns (i tried not to but at some point it was getting difficult not to use any :( sorry guys)

Warnings: descriptions of violence and wounds, cursing, getting drunk, David (which is a warning in itself), allusions to SA (but nothing happens)

Word count: ~9.4K (jesus i really got carried away im not doing that again for at least some time)

A/N: i am baack!! i finally had time to finish this monster and i guess it's ready to post <3 i absolutely ADORE 5+1 fics and always wanted to write one on my own. so here it is!! hope you enjoy because i loved writing it

1. boston qz

You bit your forearm harder, trying to hold back the tears of pain. The man kneeling in front of you glanced up.

“Bite the sleeve of your jacket. Otherwise they’re gonna think you’re infected and shoot you on sight.”

You didn’t answer but nodded, knowing that he was right. Holding your breath for a moment, you took a handful of the material and bit down on it, shutting your eyes tightly. The excruciating pain in your leg was hard enough to endure, but for the first place with it competed an absolutely unbearable look of poorly concealed pity (which you initially took for irritation) on the face of Tess’ friend.

It was through her that you met Joel. At the beginning he wasn’t very keen about letting you work with them but slowly warmed up to your presence – at least as much as a man like Joel could. Most of the time he was grumbling and, in all fairness, looking slightly angry but you’ve soon understood that he’s actually a pretty good guy. Caring. Funny, if he lets you see this side of him. Also really fucking handsome, but that was beside the point.

The job was supposed to be an easy one – just meet with a couple of Zeke’s people, pick up the smuggled items and exchange them for some meds and ammunition. However, none of you expected some random rogue group to ambush you on your way back and attempt to steal the cargo.

Tess has managed to get away just before soldiers showed up, alerted by the sound of gunfire way past the curfew. Before they could spot any of you, Joel quickly pulled you into one of the nearby buildings after one of the strangers slashed your thigh, leaving you unable to run.

So now here you were. Bleeding from your leg and making a pathetic crybaby out of yourself before the very eyes of the man you respected and lowkey had a small crush on.

Speaking of whom, Joel gave you a look of sympathy before squeezing the stapler handle again, ejecting another staple into your skin. You tensed and a broken cry escaped your lips, your breathing rapid.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, putting his other hand on your knee and rubbing slightly. “Just two more and you’ll be good to go.”

You breathed out a humorless laugh and wiped your face, sniffling.

“Just get on with it. This is way more embarrassing than it should be.” In the corner of your eye you saw him look up. He didn’t move the hand in which he held the staple gun yet, so you took this moment to steady your breath and slumped against the wall. “You probably think it’s pretty pathetic, but in my defense I never had such a gash closed with staples like that.”

“M’not thinkin’ that,” he retorted and you blew a raspberry.

“Sure. Tess told me about some of your forays, you know? You could probably get run over by a damn tank and walk it off like it’s nothing.”

Joel was silent for some time. You wiped your cheeks and motioned for him to eject the last staples at the edge of the deep cut in your thigh. He mumbled to you to get ready and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the pain.

It hurt like hell and you couldn’t help the tears flowing from your eyes, but soon enough it was over.

The sound of shouting from outside drew your attention from the pain in your leg for a couple of seconds. You tensed up, listening intently if the soldiers weren’t busting in the building you were in, but the noises soon went past you.

“Y’know, if my brother was here, he’d have told you about the first time I had a wound stitched outside of the controlled conditions,” Joel spoke up unexpectedly, unpacking his backpack in search of clean bandages. “I nearly bit off my thumb when he was tryin’ to sew my foot back together.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his confession and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye with a slight smirk.

“Is that true?”

Joel huffed with fake indignation and lifted his left hand to your eyes, twisting it so that the dim light from outside illuminated the side of it. Above and below the small bone at the base of his thumb appeared very light and irregular lines. You looked at his face with an unbelieving smile.

“When was that?”

“Ah… Just before the outbreak, I’d say.”

“And what happened to your foot?”

“Construction work. I don’t remember exactly what that was.”

“But how hard did you have to chomp down on your thumb for it to be still visible?” you asked, laughing, to which he chuckled and shrugged.

“Hey, don’t judge. If it was Tommy who was fixin’ your leg, you’d probably end up without a couple of fingers too, just for good measure.”

He found the bandage and motioned for you to straighten your leg at the knee. You watched him carefully as he looked over your bare thigh and the (not very pretty to look at) sutured wound. The leg of your pants was cut and tossed away earlier so that Joel could stitch you up freely.

“So you have a brother. Is he really that bad at treating wounds?” you asked to distract yourself from the awkwardness of the whole situation, though Joel seemed surprisingly calm.

“He got better with time,” your colleague answered and then looked up at you. “But I didn’t tell you this to bitch about Tommy’s skills.”

“Oh?” you nudged him with your other leg. “So what moral should I draw from this story?”

You clearly saw him suppressing a smile when he shook his head lightly.

“Don’t feel bad that it hurts,” he murmured and the snicker disappeared from your lips. “I’ve seen looks like the one on your face plenty before. It’s a fuckin’ big gash, I’d be worried if you didn’t show any signs of pain.”

You couldn’t come up with any snarky remarks and just blinked when Joel sent you a quick, if not a bit self-conscious, smile, like he wasn’t used to reassuring someone else.

“The fact that you let your tears flow doesn’t make you any weaker,” he said even quieter than before. You still weren’t answering and he cleared his throat, apparently growing uncomfortable with your silence, then grabbed the bottle of alcohol. “I’m gonna pour some of that shit over your wound again. It’ll sting a bit.”

You observed without a word how he cleansed the gash and started to wind the bandage around your thigh.

Weirdly enough, you also noticed that you couldn’t stop glancing at his lips.

*****

2. bill and frank’s

“No. I said no, come back here!”

Giggles erupted from you as Joel tried (and failed) to grab you when you jumped over the couch. He sighed deeply as you made eye contact with him and, with a provocative smile, drank up the rest of the bottle before putting it down on the nearby table. The man looked so disappointed and done with you, it only made you laugh louder in your drunken state.

You two were staying for a couple of days at Bill and Frank’s heavenly place, which you looked forward to for weeks now. Originally Tess was supposed to go with you but there was a last-minute change of plans, and you made the journey alone with Joel. Not counting a few infected you stumbled upon on your way here, your venture was quite nice and after a delightful dinner with your hosts, you sneaked into Joel’s room with the bottle of wine Frank gave you and the stuff you smuggled yourself.

Joel didn’t seem to be having as much fun as you, though.

“I’m never drinkin’ with you again,” he muttered, sitting heavily on the couch with a grunt. You faked a pout, leaning over his head upside down and almost losing your balance.

“You’re grouchy because the stuff you brought tasted like shit.”

“And yet you drank most of it.”

“I didn’t,” you slurred, waltzing round the couch and grinning. “I’m feelin’ great.”

“Be careful or you’ll pick up my accent you so like pokin’ fun of.”

You snorted and flopped on the seat next to him. “Mhm, m’feelin’ fine and dandy,” you grumbled in the deepest voice you could make, ridiculously imitating his Texas drawl. “Yee-haw.”

“You’re the fuckin’ worst,” sighed Joel with exasperation but you could see a crooked smile tugging on his lips. You beamed and plopped down, laying your head on his lap. He peeked at you with his brows raised. “What are you doin’ now, you little devil?”

“Just resting,” you answered. The lamp behind Joel was blinding you with its light, so you covered your eyes with your hand to shield them. “Is that uncomfy for you? Do you want me to get up?”

“Nah. You can stay for a minute.”

As if wanting to make sure you won’t try to stand up, he laid his hand on your hair, brushing some of it to the back. You hummed and shivered when he gently scratched one specific spot on your scalp, and instinctively tilted your head, chasing his touch.

Joel snorted.

“You look like a goddamn cat.”

“Shut up,” you murmured in response, a small smile adoring your face. “It feels nice.”

You opened your eyes and once again shielded them from the lamp. Joel moved his head slightly to the side to block out the bothersome stimulus, causing you to giggle again.

“It looks like you have a halo ’round your head.” You lifted your arm and made a circle, brushing the side of his face when your hand plopped back down limply on your stomach. The older man huffed a smile, looking away to glance around the room.

“I’ll be really surprised if you remember anythin’ of what you’re sayin’ tomorrow.”

“Gimme a break,” you grumbled with a smile, not taking your eyes off him. Your hand raised itself to his face again, as if on its own accord, and brushed lightly the corner of his mouth and the stubble on his cheek. “It looks pretty.”

His brown irises flickered to you before he averted his gaze. With a hum you withdrew your hand and closed your eyes, your mind getting woozy from alcohol and tiredness.

Joel’s fingers were still running through your hair gently and you really hoped you’d remember it in the morning.

*****

3. road, somewhere in missouri

You had no idea how long you had been driving.

Ellie was asleep in the back seat and Joel was getting some well-deserved shut-eye after you volunteered to sit behind the wheel several hours ago. The clock on the dashboard was showing 4:07 and you planned on driving until the sun started to rise, then switching places with Joel.

That is, if you manage to stay awake.

You tried to drink some of the coffee Joel prepared beforehand to wake yourself up but it tasted horrible, leaving a too bitter taste on your tongue. Once you catched yourself closing your eyes for a second longer than intended and the car started to veer off course before you corrected it.

Yes, you were aware driving in this kind of state was extremely stupid, but you knew Joel was anxious to find his brother and drop Ellie off with the Fireflies as soon as possible. And you knew that if you wake him up he’ll insist on driving for the rest of the way himself, ignoring his own needs and exhaustion.

You risked a look to the side at his sleeping form. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his head propped against the headrest. Honestly, it looked like the man was just pretending to nap – his body seemed uptight, as if he was ready to spring into action at any second.

And he looked beautiful with his face bathed in the gray light of early morning. Like a painting you’d gladly admire for hours.

You sighed and cracked your neck, focusing on the road ahead of you. Several more hours to go. There was a gas tank in the back of the car, so you didn’t have to worry about that, and if you remembered correctly the map you and Joel studied earlier, you should get close to some bigger city in the late afternoon. Joel wanted to take the side roads and you agreed, but your supplies… Did you have enough of them? And what was the name of that city again…?

A hand grabbed the wheel and gently straightened the course when without you noticing the car started to veer too much to the left again.

You emerged from your reverie immediately and looked to the right at Joel who was now wide awake.

“You alright?” he asked with concern, and his voice had this enticing, raspy drawl to it that told you he really dozed off for a while.

“I’m so sorry,” you said quickly but quietly, not wanting to wake Ellie up. “I’m fine, promise.”

He eyed the tiredness on your face and the tight grip you had on the wheel.

“If you need to get some rest–”

“No, no, no. I can go on. Sorry you had to wake up.”

Joel grunted and stretched in the small space in the front seat and you tried really hard not to stare at how he craned his neck or at the way his muscles tensed, or at the strip of his skin revealed when his shirt rolled up…

“Pull over.”

You snapped out of your thoughts. “No. I told you I’m fine.”

“C’mon, darlin’, don’t make me wrestle with you in a movin’ vehicle.”

Either he had a clue about what this nickname was doing to you, or he was still half-asleep and it simply slipped out; but whether it was intentional or not, you couldn’t dream of opposing him now and with a defeated sigh (and burning neck) you pulled over, slowly bringing the car to a halt. You glanced backwards, but miraculously Ellie hadn’t woken up yet.

Joel looked you over with concern and you shut your eyes, laying your forehead on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. “But I really can keep going, at least until the sun goes up.”

“We’re switchin’,” he just said, unfastening his seatbelt.

“Joel, no!” you hissed, but he ignored you and went around the hood of the car, stopping at your side and opening the door for you. “I’m not moving. You need to get some fucking rest.”

“I already did. Now scoot over.”

“No, I told you–”

“What’s going on? Are we there yet?”

Both of you looked back to see Ellie sitting up and rubbing her eyes. In a split second she went from half-awake to alert, and she eyed you and Joel suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she asked again.

“We’re switchin’ places,” Joel spoke up before you had a chance to answer the girl. “Our current driver is pretty tired.”

“I’m not!” you protested, glaring at him.

“You almost drove the car into a ditch.”

“Woah.” Ellie lifted her hands and puffed her cheeks in a nervous manner. “Just this time, I second Joel. I really don’t want to end up in a ditch, thank you very much.”

“You see?” Joel looked at you expectedly. “Outvoted.”

You squinted in the rearview mirror at the teen. “Traitor.”

Ellie just shrugged. With a heavy sigh you unfastened yourself and exited the car, but before you could go around it and take Joel’s previous place, he stuck his arm out, stopping you.

“Actually, Ellie, do you want to ride shotgun now?” he asked and nodded in your direction. “It’d do her good to lie down for a bit.”

“No,” you said firmly at the same time when Ellie agreed with an enthusiastic “hell yeah!”. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the pair. “You guys are in cahoots.”

“Boo-hoo,” Ellie had a mean smile on her face. “Get in the backseat and cry about it.”

“She’s so cheeky,” you murmured to Joel, trying to hide your smile, and by the look of it he had trouble doing that, too. You sighed and lifted your hands in surrender. “Alright, you two. You won.”

“Great.” Ellie grinned, then started walking off the street. “But give me a moment, dudes, I gotta pee,” she said before marching further into the field on the side of the road.

“Don’t go too far!” shouted Joel after her.

“Don’t drive off without me!”

With that Ellie disappeared behind a small hill and you turned back to your companion, scrunching your face at him. Joel shrugged and walked past you.

“C’mon. I’ll find you a blanket.”

You huffed but didn’t argue further, knowing nothing will change his mind. He could be stubborn as a mule sometimes.

You climbed into the backseat and waited for Joel to take out the blanket you took from Bill and Frank’s house from the back of the car. He opened the door next to your head and handed it over, waiting for you to unfurl it. You expected him to go take the driver’s seat right away, but he stayed in place. Only then you noticed the folded jacket he was holding in his hands.

He didn’t react at all to your raised eyebrows and questioning look, and just casually laid his jacket under your head to serve as a pillow. The gesture was so sweet it made you melt inside, and you just couldn’t stay mad at him.

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

“Only if you and Ellie aren’t too loud,” you teased, trying to settle down the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “If you start arguing about some stupid shit again, I’m taking the wheel from you by force.”

He smirked and squatted next to your seat, looking down at you with an amused expression.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You had to be really fucking tired, because for a split second you thought that Joel has just flirted with you. You hid your face in his jacket to partially conceal your smile, but it only made your face hotter because the material smelled of him so much.

“I could. You’re lucky I’m deciding to show mercy.”

“How gracious of you. I’m honored.

“But we’re swapping places when I wake up,” you added, looking at him as sternly as you could. He raised his eyebrows with a half-smile when a yawn escaped you immediately after. “I’m serious, Joel.”

“Sure, darlin’.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead before standing up. “Now sleep.”

You could only stare into space as he carefully closed the door next to your head and walked around the vehicle with heavy steps. The spot on your head where his lips touched your skin was tingling and you inhaled deeply to calm yourself down before he entered the truck again and fastened the seatbelt.

Joel put some cassette into the tape deck and turned the volume down even before the song started to play.

You closed your eyes and wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, hiding the lower part of the face – and a blush spreading on your cheeks – under the cover.

*****

4. jackson

You looked out the window at the children pulling their sleds behind them and smiled at how happy and carefree they looked. Down the road you could just barely see the big Christmas tree in the square and for a moment it felt like the apocalypse had never happened.

“They’re pretty lucky to be growing up here,” you said quietly. Joel was closing and opening cabinets behind you, clearly looking for something.

“Not sure about it. But I guess it beats growin’ up in any of the QZ’s or Fedra’s barracks.”

After Joel’s sudden change of heart and Ellie’s confident decision that she’d rather travel with you both instead of Tommy, the younger Miller convinced his brother to stay one more day in Jackson. It was honestly a good idea because you doubted any of you three got any rest the previous night. You certainly didn’t, tossing and turning the entire time from worry.

Joel chuckled and the sound pulled you out of your thoughts.

“What did you find?” you asked. He was kneeling in front of one of the cabinets, holding a small box.

“Old cassettes. You want to listen to some music?”

“Sure.” You stood up with a smile. “It’ll be pretty atmospheric.”

Joel gave you a dirty look.

“I’m not putting on Christmas carols.”

“I don’t want to listen to Christmas carols. Find something good.”

He sighed and took out a carton box from the cabinet, and then started to rummage through it. “Alright, so what do you want?”

“You can choose. Pick something you think I’d like.” A thought struck you and you glanced around the living room, furrowing your brows. “Is there even any tape player in here or something like that?”

“Upstairs,” Joel mumbled absent-mindedly. “In Ellie’s room. We can go see if it works.”

Ellie was out exploring Jackson and you doubted she’ll be back very soon. You knelt down next to Joel, looking at him with a grin as he inspected the box, pulling out and reading some of the cassettes before putting them back down. You rested your chin on your hands.

“Just get anything,” you ushered after some time, to which he chuckled.

“You said to pick somethin’ you’d like. Gimme some time.”

“Do you think I’m that picky?”

“Of course you are.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t have to wait much longer before Joel stood up with a grunt and held out his hand to you. In the other one he held a white cassette.

“C’mon. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love this one.”

You took his hand with excitement and let yourself be pulled to your feet. It’s been so long since you’ve been able to listen to some music – well, maybe not as long, but you missed it regardless – that you felt a bubbly joy at the thought of hearing something new.

And more than that, something that Joel has picked specifically for you. Doesn’t matter that you had to ask him.

You went upstairs to the room that was currently Ellie’s bedroom and Joel bent down, inserting the cassette into the tape player. He looked over his shoulder at you with a small smile and you beamed right back.

A loud, scratchy sound rang out.

You winced and Joel furrowed his brows. He took the cassette out, checked the empty slot and the cassette itself, and then made sure the power was on.

The first notes started to play, but they sounded distorted, like a scratched record. Joel cursed and tried again, but there must’ve been something wrong with the device, because no matter what he did, the music didn’t play right.

He tried again and again, and finally you decided to put a stop to it. You placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Leave it, Joel. It’s okay.”

“Just my fuckin’ luck,” he muttered, not turning around. “Of course Tommy gave us a place without a working cassette player.”

“It’s okay,” you repeated. You wanted to say something like ’the song probably isn’t even worth fussing over’, but the words got stuck in your throat. He picked it for you to listen to, of course it was worth it. “Maybe I just wasn’t meant to hear it.”

The man worried his lip and you quickly averted your gaze. He straightened up and put his hands on his hips, sighing.

“Nonsense,” he answered, looking intently at the device like he wanted to get it to work by sheer willpower. “You wanted to hear it.”

“Well, I did.” You got embarrassed for whatever reason, not knowing what to say. “But there’s not really anything we can do about that. It’s no big deal.”

Joel’s jaw twitched and he turned to look at you thoughtfully. You offered him a lopsided smile, but he didn’t move a muscle and you could almost imagine small gears turning in his head when he had this expression on his face.

“You okay?” you asked with a stifled laugh.

“I… have an idea,” he said slowly, almost hesitantly. Then he focused his eyes on you again. “Just… trust me for a moment.”

Your gaze softened and you took a step closer to him.

“Joel, of course I trust you. I trust you with my life.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed but his brown irises haven’t left yours for even a second.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” you asked with a crooked smile, but he just shook his head.

“C’mon, close your eyes. And promise you won’t laugh.”

Confusion washed over you but you closed your eyes as requested. You heard Joel sighing and then he took your hand in his calloused and rough one, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your neck got way too hot but you tried not to tense or flinch in fear of making him back out.

“Promise you won’t laugh,” he repeated and you just now realized you haven’t answered him. He put his hand on your waist, very, very lightly, and your other hand was raised to  shoulder height, cradled in his warm one.

“I swear I won’t,” you whispered, your heart beating so damn loud you were scared he was going to hear it with how close you two were.

Joel exhaled heavily and you felt his breath on your hair.

And then he started to hum quietly and sway you gently from side to side. You desperately tried to remain calm, but how were you supposed to do that when your body felt so hot and he was so close–

“I reached inside myself and found nothin’ there… to ease the pressure… of my ever-worrying mind, hmm…”

Joel’s voice was deep and harsh right in front of you, and it sounded more like he was purring than singing. You suspected he slowed down the pace of the song significantly to match his movements and your heart swelled with warmth and adoration. The smile on your face widened and you took a step to the left, then to the right, gradually engaging in your dance more and more. You wanted to make it less uncomfortable and awkward for him and it seemed to have worked a bit because the next lines were much more confident, and his voice steadier.

“All my power wasted ’way, fear the crazed and lonely looks the mirror’s sendin’ me these days, hmm…”

His hold on you tightened slightly and you held his hand a little more securely, unable to hold back a goofy smile on your face.

“Touch me… how can it be? Believe me… the sun always shines on TV.”

You were falling for him all over again and it was not fair that he made you promise to keep your eyes closed. Though if he didn’t, you’d probably end up doing something dumb.

Like kissing him.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Hold me… close to your heart. Touch me… Give all your love to me. To me…”

Did he just pull you closer or was it you that took a step forward? It was hard to tell without seeing where you step, but you suddenly were very aware of the material of his shirt under your chin and the smell of shampoo he used to wash his hair, the pressure of his hand on your lower back and his quiet, drawling voice right next to your ear.

You were positive you’re about to pass out.

And it felt blissful.

Joel kept humming the chorus of the song, his voice getting softer and lower with each word. You relished in the warmth of his embrace, begging any higher power that he won’t let go of you immediately once he stops singing.

He didn’t.

Instead you two kind of naturally came to a stop but neither of you moved, still standing chest to chest and breathing a bit shakily. Your palm – or maybe it was his – was sweaty, but you ignored the unpleasant feeling, wanting to stay like this as long as possible.

“The original is much more lively,” Joel spoke in a soft whisper after some time and you smiled lightly.

“Well, I really liked your version,” you answered just as quietly, not wanting to disturb the intimate atmosphere in the room. “Joel?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

A moment of silence.

“Yeah.”

You did so, but didn’t move your head, still keeping it on his shoulder and breathing in his scent. “Thank you for that,” you whispered and you felt him nodding.

“Anytime.”

His fingers crept a bit higher up your spine, but still his touch was so light and unsure.

You realized with a flicker of hope that he wasn’t pushing you away. He was pulling you closer.

Careful not to move too abruptly, you lifted your head and turned it to look him in the eyes. They were already on you, so very close, warm and hesitant, but also not showing any signs of discomfort or regret.

“Joel?” you asked again and you were so close to each other, it came out less as a question and more like a quiet breath. He heard it, though.

“Yeah?”

“Can I–”

Suddenly the door downstairs slammed extremely loudly and you both jumped when the noise broke the heavy silence.

“Hello! Is anybody here?!”

Ellie came back.

Both of you automatically took a step backwards, letting go of each other. Your face was scorching hot and you couldn’t force yourself to look at Joel. With a deep (hopefully unnoticed by the man standing right in front of you) breath, you quickly tried to get a grip on yourself when you heard Ellie running up the stairs.

“I was calling you, guys!” she panted and looked from you to the older man. “What’s up?”

“We…” Joel cleared his throat. “Tried to put some music on. The darn thing isn’t workin’, though.”

“Ugh, that’s a bummer.” Ellie turned to you and tilted her head. “Were you out, too? Your face is all red and shit.”

Even if it wasn’t before, it certainly was now. All attention shifted to you in a second and it made you want to cry.

“Yes,” you uttered quickly, “and… I’m actually going out again. I wanted to ask Maria something.”

You didn’t wait for any of them to stop or question you further – you all but ran down the stairs and bolted outside without even taking a jacket or a hat.

Fuck…

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

*****

5. basement, somewhere in colorado

He was dying.

Joel was dying and there was nothing you could do to help him.

You tried your hardest, though, to take care of both him and Ellie. You went out hunting so she wouldn’t have to starve, you encouraged her to get as much rest as possible while you watched over the unconscious man during the night, and not once did you show any doubt that Joel will get better.

But you had a feeling she knew why you were so reluctant to stay behind while the girl took her turn looking for food.  The truth was, you were starting to crack if you sat for too long at Joel’s side, letting the intrusive thoughts take root in your mind. You needed those moments outside, because they were the only ones when you let your tears flow.

So when it was only you and him in the basement, you spent this time brushing the hair out of his face and coaxing him to drink. You checked his wound every so often, trying to keep it as clean as possible. You held his hand, humming to him that one song he sang for you in Jackson, though you didn’t know the words.

It was painful, to just sit in place and be unable to do anything to help, but you tried not to break down. Not when both of them counted on you.

So you stayed strong, hoping it’ll all turn out alright.

But luck still wasn’t on your side.

The men Ellie encountered the day before were here now, looking for you and Joel, and hungry for blood. She told you all about her interaction with them and since yesterday you were ready for a fight in case they showed up, but somehow it still surprised you and made your heart hammer in your chest in fear.

There wasn’t anywhere you could run to, and Joel wasn’t even able to keep his eyes open, let alone walk. You didn’t really have any other options.

So there was only one thing you could do, and that was to protect those closest to you.

You quickly took your backpack and passed Ellie your gun, closing her fingers around the cold metal.

“I’ll barricade the door, but if anyone comes in here, you blast their skull open, you hear me?” you whispered urgently and the girl nodded. You took Joel’s rifle from the floor and hung it over your shoulder. “I’ll try to take them out and lead them away. I’ll be back.”

“You better come back,” Ellie muttered and you looked at her softly, nodding. Then your gaze involuntarily shifted to Joel.

You didn’t know how many people were outside – if there were three or four of them, you should be able to shoot most of them before they notice you. If you don’t miss, that is.

But if there were more…

Choking back a nervous sob, you knelt next to the mattress and took Joel’s head in your hands. His eyes were only half-open and his forehead covered in sweat. Your heart clenched painfully at how weak he looked.

Acting on impulse, you leaned down and softly kissed the place above the corner of his mouth.

“Wake up,” you said to him firmly, brushing his cheeks with your thumbs. “Please, Joel. Ellie and I need you.”

You knew you had to go. You had to go now and make sure those fuckers outside don’t find Ellie and him.

But you stayed just for a second longer to press your forehead to his.

“I love you,” you whispered, so quietly you barely heard yourself.

And then you pulled away and ran upstairs.

From then on it was all a blur. You managed to kill one of the men with a clean shot between his eyes, but the other one ducked out of the way when he noticed you. Turned out there were six of them – too many – and what’s worse, one of them came up behind you, forcing you to flee sooner than you’d planned.

It would probably be wiser to take the horse but you didn’t want to endanger the poor creature, so you ran on foot.

You didn’t get far. One of the men managed to shoot you in the leg, making you keel over onto the frozen ground with a scream of pain. You turned around and saw him lifting his gun again before another voice yelled that he wanted you alive.

No. No, no, you weren’t about to let them take you.

You crawled towards where your rifle lay in the snow but just before you could reach it, it was kicked away by a heavy boot which then dealt a severe blow to your stomach. You doubled over, wheezing and coughing for air. By the time you managed to somehow catch your breath, someone pressed their foot on the gunshot wound in your calf, forcing a scream of agony out of you.

“Now, stay calm. I don’t want to shoot you.”

You clutched at your leg, glaring up at the ginger man who you suspected was the same David Ellie has encountered.

The man grinned nastily at the state you were in, and you didn’t like his expression one bit. He must’ve noticed that you were ready to lunge at him at any moment because he swiftly lifted his gun to your head. You froze.

“Where is your friend and the girl?” he asked quietly. You sneered at him, baring your teeth.

“Fuck you. I ain’t telling you shit.”

“David, she killed Paul,” spat another, younger one, looking down at you with hatred. “If that bastard has already died, let’s at least kill his bitch.”

You tried to think of a way to get out of this situation, but both of the men had their guns pointed at you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough with the gunshot wound.

You tried to move slightly but David pressed his foot harder on your leg, causing more blood to flow from your wound and you cried out, the pain clouding your vision.

“Don’t try anything, sweetheart,” he murmured in a warning tone. “You might bleed out.”

Your eyes were full of hate and rage but you didn’t dare to move again just yet.

“Where are they?” David asked again and you huffed a humorless chuckle while trying not to show how much pain you were in.

“You know that it was me who killed that idiot?” you asked in the most mocking tone you could muster, in the meantime desperately thinking how the fuck you were going to get out of here, preferably alive. “And your friend over there.” You nodded in the direction of where the body of the man you shot was lying. “Which one of you stood next to him? Was it you?” you asked the younger man who shot you in the leg. “I hope I hadn’t splattered you too much with the remnants of his brain.”

“You little bitch,” the other man sneered, lifting his gun again despite David’s stern order to back off. “I’d love to see the face of your friend when I blast your–”

“Leave her alone, you fuckers!!”

All of you turned your heads and your stomach churned when you saw Ellie on the horse you borrowed from Tommy. More shots rang out in the air when she blindly fired at the two men standing above you, and then the rest of the strangers who emerged from between the trees.

“Alive!!” David yelled after his men when they started chasing Ellie who grabbed the reins and cantered in the opposite direction. Then the man turned back to you. “We will catch her. Then we will find your friend, and he’ll pay for his sins.”

You growled.

“I told you it wasn’t him who killed that man.” He shook his head and you fumed with anger. “You don’t think I’m capable of that?”

“Oh, I think you’re capable of a lot.” His stare slid down your body, from head to toe, and terror gripped your heart at the sadistic excitement in his eyes. “And I think you must really care about him if you’re ready to trade your life for his. Such loyalty is admirable, but your love is misplaced.”

The snow around you was getting more and more red and you really started to worry that the bullet might’ve hit an artery. David’s eyes shifted to your leg as well, and he hummed.

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry. You’ll be well taken care of in our community.”

“I don’t want to be any part of your fucked up sect.”

“You will. You just need a father to lead you to the right path.” He leaned over you in such a manner that it made your blood run cold. “I’ll teach you personally.”

Suddenly a shot echoed in the air and you heard a distant neighing of a horse. Your head automatically turned in the direction of the noise and David took advantage of your moment of distraction to strike your temple with his gun, thus knocking you unconscious.

*****

+1. silver lake

Joel woke up.

And he felt like he was made out of pure adrenaline and rage.

You weren’t with Ellie when he found her staggering through the snow, the face of the teen terrified and covered in blood. He comforted her as best as he could, relief and fear fighting inside him as he held the girl in his arms.

But she didn’t know where you were held. If you were even alive.

And that was a thought that Joel couldn’t bear. He wouldn’t even allow for the possibility that you were no longer…

He vaguely remembered you stroking his cheek with slow and delicate touches, and your humming while he was laying on the mildewed mattress in the basement. Maybe it wasn’t even a memory, but a dream – it was hard to tell in his delirious state.

But he was pretty sure he wasn’t hallucinating when he felt soft, cold lips right next to his and heard your voice – he knew it was your voice, he’d recognize it anywhere – whispering the words he never let himself hope you’d say to him.

Words he would be damned if he didn’t say back to you.

And that’s why he was merciless with the men he encountered on his way to you and Ellie. His own tiredness and pain piercing his abdomen didn’t matter – nothing mattered when you two weren’t with him, when he didn’t know if you were hurt or even still breathing. The desire to help and protect his girls numbed the pain in his stomach so much that he almost forgot he could barely stand just a few hours ago.

Once he found Ellie and took her to a safe location, he went back to look for you. He didn’t want to leave the girl alone, but she seemed terrified at the prospect of going back and through the buildings, so he left her his gun, promising to be right back.

One of the bastards Joel ran across on his way back was helpful enough (after being shot in both knees and having his forearm broken) to direct him to the place where you were supposedly being held – a small building hidden behind the still burning dining room.

No one else stood in his way when he cautiously reached the structure. He went in and started checking every single room, getting more and more anxious every time he found them empty. At one point he was ready to tear the walls apart and go back to see if there was anyone left alive who could tell him where you were – but then spotted a hidden, smaller metal door, which apparently led to the basement.

It wasn’t locked and Joel didn’t hear anything on the other side so he opened it slowly, quickly walking down the stairs and scanning the room for any enemies, but there were none. Half of the room was enclosed by a chain-link fence and the entry to the cage was slightly open.

And inside sat you, with a cloth around your eyes and hands tied above your head.

His knees almost gave way under him from relief when you perked up at the sound of his footsteps. You were alive. You were–

“If you fucking try to touch me again, I’ll break more than your stupid jaw!” you yelled out of the blue, starting to struggle and kick haphazardly, though the placement of your wrists was forcing you to stay in a sitting position. “You motherfucker, don’t come any closer!”

The fear and desperation in your voice broke Joel’s heart in an instant and made him stop dead in his tracks.

“It’s me,” he hurried to say, but his voice was weak and the next words got stuck in his throat when he saw your bloodied nose, bruises on your face and neck, as well as a dirty bandage tied around your calf with a seizable crimson stain on it.

He ushered inside, opening the door to the cell wide open with a loud scraping. You started panicking even more, cursing and kicking when he crouched next to you, intending to untie your hands.

“I said don’t fucking touch me! I’ll kill you!” you screamed and Joel actually had to back away a little to avoid getting kicked in the ribs.

“It’s me!” he said louder, but it was clear you didn’t hear him. In a quick movement he reached out, yanking the blindfold off your eyes, and put his hands on both sides of your face. “It’s me. Joel.”

In the first moment his touch made you recoil and the look of fury deepened on your face while you continued to scream bloody murder. Your eyes were so wild and terrified, Joel wanted nothing more than to pull you close to his chest and never let go. 

“Look at me, baby. It’s alright,” he whispered soothingly, brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones like he vaguely remembered you doing when he was unconscious. “It’s me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Your eyes slowly started to focus on his face for the first time since he took the blindfold off, and Joel felt like something was tearing his chest apart at the sight of fear and disbelief on your face.

“It’s okay, darlin’,” he muttered in a strangled voice, trying not to show he was close to crying, too. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”

A broken sob issued from your throat when you took in the sight of him, your eyes lingering on his face and stomach where the wound was.

“...Joel?”

“I’m here,” he said softly, quickly cutting the ropes binding you to the indent in the wall and wincing when he saw the red and purple marks around your wrists. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, not for you and not for him. Your body was trembling when he finally cut your hands free and without hesitation gathered you in his arms. It seemed like all the bottled up stress was pouring out of you now with the tears as you cried into his jacket and he held you tighter.

“J-Joel…”

“I know, babygirl,” he whispered into your hair, rocking you both back and forth slightly. You were clinging to him almost desperately and it pained him physically to see how scared you’ve been this whole time, but you were safe now, you were back with him and you were alive… “I know. I’m so sorry.”

You pulled away abruptly and looked over his shoulder, your face crumpling in despair when you saw no one there.

“They took Ellie, I don’t know where–”

“She’s safe,” he quickly assured you. “She got out and I found her just before comin’ here.”

You nodded with a sigh of relief, and he shifted his gaze to your calf, gently laying his hand just above the bandage.

“How’s your leg? Can you walk?”

“One of those fuckers shot me,” you murmured, not moving or attempting to stand up, which concerned Joel. “I didn’t really have a chance to see if I’ll be able to stand on my own but they sewed it up provisionally.” Your eyes flickered to his and you smiled softly, brushing your fingers over the back of his hand. “Not as well as you, though.” Then your smile disappeared and your hand grabbed his in a firm grip, like you wanted to make sure he was really here. “How are you, though? I was… Shit, I was so afraid I’d lose you.”

Joel could only stare at you, having no clue what to say.

He was not good at talking. He knew what he should do, though – he should examine your leg and make sure it was alright, he should go back to Ellie and get you two out of here, he should calm down his goddamn pounding heart so that he doesn’t pass out and cause you any more trouble.

But he couldn’t will his muscles to move. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t think about anything at all – not when you were sitting in front of him, looking at him with those tearful, gorgeous eyes of yours, holding his hand so tenderly but firmly, your touch so soothing, so familiar, and he remembered vaguely the same fingertips caressing his face.

And your voice, those words…

You said his name haltingly, but he didn’t register any of that, instead letting the overwhelming feelings of relief and fear, and – and adoration – take hold over his body, and he affectionately took your beautiful face in his hands.

Your eyes widened slightly but then these irises he dreamt about so often flickered to his lips and your own parted slightly, and that was all he needed before he leaned in and kissed you deeply.

There was a moment of hesitation on your part during which Joel began to worry that he didn’t read the situation right after all, but then you cupped his cheeks, too, and pressed yourself closer to him, letting him envelop your form in his arms with a quiet sigh.

It was better than he could have ever imagined. He could taste a hint of blood on your lips and hot, blinding rage surged through his veins at the thought of those bastards hurting you. His kiss turned harder and more desperate – he needed to make sure you were really here with him, he wanted to feel your every breath in his own lungs. You didn’t pull away, only tangling your fingers in his short hair, and the small noises you were making were driving Joel crazy with lust and relief. He felt dizzy, like he was going to faint again but he pushed through it, keeping his attention solely on you.

The second you two parted, even before you had a chance to catch your breath, the words started spilling out of his mouth fumblingly.

“Listen, I… I heard you,” he whispered, panting like he just ran a mile – and his heart certainly acted like he did. “M’pretty sure I wasn’t halucinatin’, but even if– doesn’t matter, I want… no, I need to tell you this, I…”

He exhaled nervously and shook his head, avoiding eye contact with you because he was damn sure he'd burst into flames if you looked at him like that again.

Fuck, he was really not good at this.

He cursed under his breath, missing a concerned look you gave him, and felt your hand covering his where it was still situated on your cheek. He knew that with this gesture you wanted to make it easier for him somehow, but it only caused his chest to get even warmer and tighter. “Joel, slow down–”

“I… I love you,” he finally choked out, softly brushing your cheekbones with his thumbs. And damn his old, faulty heart, he wanted to gaze into your eyes again, even if it was going to kill him, so that’s exactly what he did. “I loved you for so long, darlin’, and I got so fuckin’ scared that I won’t be able to tell you and, and it’s okay if I only imagined you saying that and you don’t feel that way, but I needed to tell you, I…”

All strength left him when he paused to draw a breath. His vision was becoming blurry and for a second he was certain he’s losing consciousness again, but it turned out they were only tears filling his eyes, blurring your form before him.

Which was even worse, somehow.

“I’m sorry.” He intended to sound reassuring and strong but it came out more like a broken whisper and he hated himself for feeling so weak and helpless when you and Ellie needed comfort and strength. He couldn’t help it though – all this time when he was looking for his girls the only things that kept him going were anger, terror and regret. Now there was relief, yes, but… he felt so very tired and old.

You turned your head slightly to plant a soft kiss on the inside of his palm, and Joel’s head snapped up. Tears were filling your eyes and he immediately scanned your body for other injuries, any signs of damage or pain, but then this gorgeous smile he so loved illuminated your face, and it put all of his anxieties at ease.

“You weren’t hallucinating,” you said quietly. “I did say that. And I love you, too, Joel.”

He couldn’t help a short, breathless and broken laugh that escaped him when he really heard you speaking those words, this time as clearly as day.

You sniffled and mirrored his smile, and in the next second Joel was kissing you again.

He knew you two had to go, had to get back to Ellie and leave this god-forsaken place, so he tried to be quick, but you – your smile, your touch, all of you – were so distracting and not eager to help him pull away in the slightest.

“I love you too, babygirl, love you so much.” He peppered your face with kisses, ignoring tears running down his cheeks and disappearing into his beard and under your hands. “So fuckin’ much… Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Because your old heart can’t handle it?” you teased and he huffed a laugh. A damn tease in every situation, he wanted to say, but before he had a chance to chide you, you pulled him in for another deep kiss. Joel decided you’re off the hook this time.

“Exactly, darlin’. Now hold onto my arm, we’re gonna see if you can stand, and then we’re goin’ back to Ellie.”

A hiss and a grunt of pain escaped you when he attempted to pull you to your feet, but you gritted your teeth and shook your head quickly when he froze, worry evident on his face. Turned out you could stand on your own and even slowly limp forward, but clearly had to push through intense pain to do so. Joel offered you his shoulder (against which his tired body protested immediately) but it made walking easier for you, so he sucked it up.

“I got you,” he whispered when he helped you up the stairs, keeping an arm around your waist for support. You whimpered every time you had to climb up a step, and Joel took hold of your hand, brushing his thumb over your skin lovingly. “That’s a good girl. Just a couple more.”

You didn’t let go of his hand even after these ‘couple more’ steps.

He kept his hand on your shoulder when you finally got reunited with Ellie and tears of relief spilled out of your eyes.

You tangled your fingers with his when the three of you were leaving this cursed, cruel place.

You all held each other when Ellie broke down and you both hugged her tightly, trying to make her feel safe again.

He hooked his little finger over yours, not wanting to drag you down when he started to lean on you, getting significantly weaker from how far he traveled and how hard he fought in the state he was in.

You grasped his hand again that night when you laid down next to him in his sleeping bag while Ellie was curled close to the two of you on Joel’s other side.

He didn’t let go when he leaned in to kiss you again, keeping his touch soft and gentle, and pulled you as close as he could, murmuring words of love and sweet promises into your hair.

Both of you knew you had a lot to talk about in the upcoming days – and probably even weeks. All three of you needed time to heal, physically as well as mentally.

But just for this moment, Joel couldn’t be happier and more relieved as it was slowly dawning on him that after this horrible, hellish nightmare, he had both of you right next to him, breathing and alive, and not chased by anyone for now. Two persons he loved in very different ways, but who were his entire world, whether he was ready to admit it or not.

As if reading his thoughts, you shifted slightly and kissed the edge of his jaw sleepily. His eyes closed, hiding the wetness in them.

He really couldn’t believe his luck.

[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[m30wk1ttycat]

maze runner masterlist !

› updated: 30.11.24, masterlist w all my other works

★ - masc!reader ☆ - fem!reader ✮ - gn!reader

characters:

𝐛𝐫��𝐧𝐝𝐚

☆ i love you - brenda just randomly saying 'i love you' to her best friend.

𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

✮ gally's runner - you're not sure how to apologize to him after an argument about you volunteering to be a runner.

✮ rainy day - you teach gally how to braid your hair on a random, very boring, rainy day.

𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐭

★ wish you were sober - newt is drunk, and confesses to the person he tries to hate, only that he's too drunk to realize it.

✮ whoops! - you and newt get caught cuddling. feat. minho and thomas <3

✮ first and last 'i love you' - you confess to newt, but it's too late.

✮ stay? - newt takes care of you after you witnessed your friend's death.

✮ early bird - the box arrives too early, and the only glader awake is newt.

✮ pretty face - sucking him off in the deadheads. (incase you haven't noticed, this is smut. minors, NO. bad kids. I WILL BE INFORMING YOUR PARENTS :3)

✮ blondie - sleepy newt being clingy.

✮ flowers - newt giving you flowers ! (headcanon)

✮ double trouble - sonya and newt take care of you when you get sick. (platonic?)

✮ failed attempt - your attempts at comforting him were - quite frankly - futile.

✮ the not so subtle note passing - newt slips you a note during a keepers meeting.

✮ newt hcs because i was bored - pretty self explanatory.

✮ tough love - he confronts the med-jack, who's been acting as if he put all of them in the maze. (kinda nsfw lol)

✮ sleepyhead - newt being affectionate while you two cuddle in his bunk in the wckd facility.

✮ next time - newt being more rough during make-outs with his darling in the early stages of the flare infection)

✮ kiss me hard before you go - one last kiss before he goes on the mission to save minho.

★ dizzy - and not in the good way - newt gets really queasy when it comes to blood. his boyfriend, a slicer, who's always bloody in some way after his shifts at the blood house, adores to tease him about it (and then he feels really bad about doing it).

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨

✮ make up, not make out! - apparently, he 'misheard' you.

✮ minho tripping you just for shits and giggles - headcanon :3

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐚

✮ double trouble - sonya and newt take care of you when you get sick. (platonic?)

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

☆ drunken greenie - thomas being moody when he's drunk.

✮ angel - as much as vince tells him that he needs to rest and recover from everything they've been through, thomas is too stubborn and asks gally if he can help the builders. thomas, however, manages to get injured during the job, too distracted by a certain someone, and finds himself contemplating his, admittedly, very bad decisions.

✮ dionaea muscipula - after a long, exhausting run, thomas still somehow finds the energy to sink his teeth into his beloved's flesh. (tw, slight biting kink!!)

✮ tommy's own personal human heater - how thomas likes to warm his hands up, feat. gn!reader!

✮ ridiculous - while attempting to run from his problems, he only causes more. (this isn't angst, sorry, angst lovers)

✮ the blind leading the blind-er - when a tiny little crush starts to turn into something so much more, thomas is too awkward to say it out loud, so he keeps giving not-so-subtle hints. of course, minho, his best friend keeps reassuring him that you picked up on his hints. (you didn't.)

✮ be my baby? - what should've been common knowledge by now still manages to shock you whenever you witness it.

✮ thomas with reader on their period

..𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 !

[steddieas-shegoes]

"Stevie, I am begging you, please don't tell Wayne."

Eddie was bleeding.

He was on the floor and he was bleeding.

Steve was standing in the doorway, shocked into silence, watching Eddie try to put pressure on a wound that should have mostly scarred over by now.

His last checkup had been good, they'd even said the stitches could come out on his next visit, and he could officially start physical therapy.

So why was he fucking bleeding?

"Dammit. Can you grab a wrap from my room?" Eddie asked him, tone entirely too calm.

"Shouldn't I take you to the hospital?" Steve managed to ask.

Eddie's head turned to him, eyes widening as he seemed to realized what was happening.

"No, I- this is kinda normal? It's happened a couple times," he tried to smile, shrug it off.

"A couple of times?! Eds, this isn't normal. They gotta stitch you up better or something, c'mon I can take you," Steve leaned in and tugged on the arm he was using to hold himself up, ready to take his weight and help him out the door.

"No!" Eddie sighed. "We can't."

"I can call Wayne, then, and he can come get you-"

"Stevie, I am begging you, please don't tell Wayne."

Steve froze.

How long had Eddie been hiding how bad this was?

"You haven't even told Wayne? Eds, you should be mostly healed. You were mostly healed at your last visit! What's happening?" Steve was doing his best to stay calm, but calm went out the window when he thought about Eddie being taken from them long after the threat was gone.

"I ripped a stitch a few days ago, so I've just tried to be careful, but sometimes I move wrong. It'll stop bleeding in a minute. It looks worse than it is," his eyes were pleading for Steve to just drop it, let him handle it on his own.

But Steve was not about to let something go wrong, not when it came to Eddie.

"I'm taking you to the hospital. I'm calling Wayne. You can hate me if you want, but I'd rather that than have to tell Dustin that you bled out on your fuckin' bathroom floor." Steve put his hand over Eddie's on his side, applying more pressure. "Can't believe you ripped your stitches and didn't tell anyone."

"I was handling it!"

"Poorly. Handling it poorly."

Eddie huffed, but surprisingly didn't argue further.

He actually stayed quiet for most of the ride to the ER, even kept his gaze lowered when Wayne walked into the room he was being stitched back up in.

He remained silent on the ride home, preferring to ride with Steve while Wayne followed behind in his truck.

He didn't wait for either of them before making his way to his bedroom.

"Thanks for callin'," Wayne said to Steve as he watched Eddie close the front door behind him. "You can head out, I'll stay with him until the kids come by tomorrow."

"If it's alright, I think I'd like to stay," Steve hesitantly replied. "I'll take the couch. Just don't wanna be too far."

Wayne looked him up and down, much like he'd done the first night Steve refused to leave Eddie's side in the hospital.

Whatever he found, he seemed to accept, smiling at Steve.

"Might as well stay in his bed. Gotta keep a close eye on that one," Wayne winked and walked inside without an answer from Steve.

A close eye was really all Steve had intended, but of course, when they woke up tangled together the next morning, his intentions started to shift.

They shifted more when Eddie, half-asleep and on some minor pain meds, pressed a soft kiss to Steve's chest before falling back asleep.

——————————————————————

I could have done anything with this line and I chose dramatics. Happy Tuesday.

ATTENTION: I reached 5! This is 1/5 and the rest will probably be posted throughout today.

[sparklefics]

Losing you

Bucky & avenger!reader

WC: 1,185

Summary: a near death experience puts things in perspective.

Warnings: near death experience (not detailed tho), mentions of injury and blood. Language!

I wrote a thing!! It’s been months since I’ve been inspired/ had time to write. Here’s a little angsty fluff.

Gif not mine.

[Masterlist]

Since you joined the team you’ve gotten along with everyone. Missions are successful at least 90 percent of the time.

For the last nine months you’ve been partnering up with Bucky. He’s damn good at his job and you get along just fine, at least when you’re on the field.

Off the field is an entirely different story.

It’s not so much that you don’t get along, it’s just you don’t hang out outside of work. The only time you ‘hang out’ is during training.

You wouldn’t consider him a friend— at least not like Sam is. Bucky is merely your teammate, your partner.

Normally Bucky is cool, calm and collected until the day you get hurt in the field.

“Star, come in.” Bucky speaks through the comms but is only met with silence so he tries again. “Agent Star, come in!”

Star is the code name Sam gave you when you joined his crusade as Captain America. He liked to joke around about his Stars and Stripes and the Sentinel of Liberty, respectively you, Joaquin and Bucky.

Bucky turns back to the last checkpoint and his body goes rigid as he takes in the scene before him. There you are laying on a puddle of blood—yours, he realizes.

He doesn’t take the time to over analyze what went down, all he cares about right now is getting you to safety.

—————

It’s scary to put so much on someone. To let them be your everything, he hadn’t realized that was what had happened. To him you were just his partner.

Until he almost lost you.

That’s when he realized what’s really at stake here. Not only your life, but his happiness.

—————

Three days, that’s how long it takes for you to wake up.

“Ow. That hurt.” You groan and hear Sam chuckle, when you bat your eyes open you see Bucky storming out of the room.

“That’s not funny, Star.” Sam says. “You scared us. How come you didn’t call for backup?”

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. And yes, he was here the whole time, barely got him to eat and shower.”

“Where’s Stripes?” You deflect and ask about Joaquin.

“Coffee run.” Sam stares towards the doorway and sighs. “Buck was the one that found you.”

“Hmm. I think he might be mad at me— you know for almost dying.”

“He’s entitled to that, you’re his partner after all.”

—————

Bucky never comes back to the med bay. In fact you don’t see him for weeks, until you’ve been given the all clear to go back out on the field.

You approach him silently at the gym while he’s pummeling a punching bag. Three bags already discarded after he ripped them open.

“Hey Liberty!”

“Don’t call me that. You know I fucking hate it.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Who said I was?” He turns around and you’re not ready for that tender look he gives you. A mixture of guilt that you almost died on his watch and something else you can’t pinpoint and it almost makes you think that he might actually care.

As scary as it was, almost dying put so much in perspective for you. First thing’s first, before you passed out on the field your very last thought was Bucky’s smile. That was strange…yes, he’s your partner but you were about to die and your last thought was of him not begging for help just one last smile of Bucky’s.

Secondly, it felt so off and hurtful seeing him walk out as soon as you woke up. You didn’t know why it hurt but the fact that it did meant that you wanted him there when you woke up. Or at least you expected him to be there, he is your partner after all.

You almost lost everything.

You almost lost him.

It’s infuriating how he managed to become something more than just your partner without you even realizing it. Though all your anger dissipates with the look he gives you. None of it matters when he’s looking at you and touching you so delicately.

Bucky traces a finger ever so delicately over the still fading bruise on your cheek bone.

You hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close to you. Or why the disheveled look he’s got going on looks so good on him. Has he ever looked better? Yes, but today he looks kinda hot and vulnerable, in a way that you just wanna comfort him, run your hands through his hair, cuddle the shit out of him.

Out of nowhere you grab his face and kiss him— on the lips!

“You can’t blame me for that. I almost died.”

You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise he doesn’t pull back, instead he deepens the kiss.

“Shut up, I'm still mad at you.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Ha!” You pull back just enough to slap a hand on his chest. “I knew it! You are mad at me!”

Bucky pulls you right back to his arms and rests his forehead on yours. “I’m just…I can’t lose anyone else. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. You got hurt out there, I should’ve—”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, “James Buchanan Barnes it is not your fault I got hurt. I should’ve called for backup, it’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”

“Yes it is. You’re my partner.”

“You say that like it means something else. What are you really trying to say, Sarge?”

As if the kiss you two shared hadn’t made it clear this certainly would.

“Star, you are everything to me.”

And your anger makes an appearance again, you pull away from him. “I’m finding that a little hard to believe, cause since I woke up all you’ve done is avoid me.”

“I’m just— seeing you there in a puddle of blood it fucked me up.”

“Waking up and seeing my partner walking out on me fucked me up. You were the last thing on my mind before I passed out. I was trying to call for— I was going to call for you when I blacked out. Then I wake up and see you walk out the door and never come back.”

This isn’t how Bucky pictured this moment. It should’ve gone like in the movies. You both admit your feelings, kiss and voila: happy ending. Not you angry at him, with unshed tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot that can’t handle his own feelings. But I love you. I need you to know that. I love you.” He squeezes your hands.

“That’s the thing Bubba, I love you too. So don’t you dare walk out on me ever again.”

You pull him in for a hug and you climb on him like a koala, arms around his shoulders and legs around his torso. He tells you he loves you again and assures you that he’s not going anywhere without you. “Well then, take me to my room. You owe me three weeks worth of cuddles.”

[thebibliosphere]

Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.

Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)

I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.

Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot

Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.

The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)

If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."

I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.

It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.

(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)

A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."

It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.

I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)