#prob doesn't even make sense goOD NIGHT

[coridallasmultipass]

I hate when my phone won't let me have 2 audio sources running at the same time (depending on the app). I know what I'm doing, let me hear the discordant noises. My brain has built-in audio separation for music. It came as compensation for auditory processing issues. Don't make me pause the music.

[ja3yun]

please be real | p.js

ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3

A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.

Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.

Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.

“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.

“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.

You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.

“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”

“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 

This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 

Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”

Jay. Park Jongseong.

It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.

Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.

It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.

But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.

And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.

Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.

Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.

The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.

His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.

“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.

As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.

Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.

Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.

“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 

You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.

As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 

He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.

As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.

With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.

An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.

Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.

As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.

He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.

Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.

"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.

He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.

It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.

Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”

“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.

Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.

"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.

His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.

With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.

"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.

Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.

You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.

“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.

"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.

You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 

With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.

"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."

Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.

But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.

Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.

You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.

_____

Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.

You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.

It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.

Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.

As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.

You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.

As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.

Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.

Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.

“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.

Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.

You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.

Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.

As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.

His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.

“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 

He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.

But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.

“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”

Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 

"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 

His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.

With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.

Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.

You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 

Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.

You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.

_____

Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.

Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 

Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?

He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.

As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.

Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 

Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.

“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.

You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 

All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.

He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.

Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.

As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.

"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."

You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.

The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 

All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”

“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.

"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."

You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.

But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.

You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.

“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”

It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 

“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”

Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.

“That’s okay.”

“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?

"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"

Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.

But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."

You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.

"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?

Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.

So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.

"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.

In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 

"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.

"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.

Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.

You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.

His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.

You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.

It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.

Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 

The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.

He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.

Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.

"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.

Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.

"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.

With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.

You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.

You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.

As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.

Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.

But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.

“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.

“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.

Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”

“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.

Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.

"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 

Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"

You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."

Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.

"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.

The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 

Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”

You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.

You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."

With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."

As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.

Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."

In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."

Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.

With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.

“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.

After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.

Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.

As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.

With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.

In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 

His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.

After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 

But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.

He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.

“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.

You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”

“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.

The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 

Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.

You need one another to extinguish the fire.

“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.

“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 

Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.

His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 

He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.

“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”

He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 

You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.

Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.

“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.

“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.

So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.

Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”

You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.

“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.

So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.

[hoodedjelly]

my Jenny, Tuck, Brad, Shelden, and Vega older designs ^__^

i'm watching mlaatr, still not done, i think i got like 10 more eps (and if i'm being transparent i skipped around eps... i just wanted to see vega...). And i'm absolutely loving the show!!!! i love these characters a lot, didn't like Shelden at first i'm going to be honest, #1 Shelden hater for a bit there. but he chilled out in season two and i started to ship breldon with that too so now i just love him so much.

more about my personal headcanons:

Jenny: - I am under the belief that she is transgender. Jenny was made genderless, so her deciding to be a girl was strictly her choice and i believe that makes her trans. (She's also a lesbian) - she did grow a bit, im not gonna explain how idc really i just liked her being a taller lady :-) - she has A LOT of different cute outfits and hair styles, honestly too much to draw. she never transforms back into her base show outfit when crime fighting, she just fights in her cute summer dress she don't care. - her and vega are dating grrgrgrrrr - when vega is in rule she makes it so there is complete free access between earth and cluster prime for citizens in both places. - I say that cause i think when jenny is older she moves in with vega, technically living in cluster prime but visits earth like everyday. And brad/shelby/tucker/wakeman visit cluster prime - Jenny also hangs out with the nicktoons unite gang, but i deffo feel like its just that secondary friend group that you don't talk to with for months. when you talk again its the same goofiness as before - i think danny calls for her help when he needs it (also manny) Tuck: - he is still a little shit but we love him - adhd boy - questioning cis (he/him) - he got into robotics/stem and builds little silly things - with that, he gets help from Shelby - pretty much just a silly teen, he's on the internet a lot and has "cringe" interests - but idk he's having fun and being silly and finding himself (those interests is stuff like sonic and among us) Shelden(Shelby) - honestly kinda nervous about ppl thoughts on my Shelden, idk it makes so much sense in my brain - hits you with the transfem beam (she/they) Pansexual (she just wants anyone type of vibe) - I think when jenny is visiting vega often that leaves Shelby and Brad hanging out alone a lot. which they don't mind honestly, they are actually good friends! - but during that they just get closer and start catching feelings. Shelby eventually lets go of her feelings about jenny and realizes they were a real jerk and weirdo to her. brad helps them through that and eventually her realizing she's trans. blah blah they in love and kiss at some point. - Shelby is also a furry lmaooo her fursona is a cat.

Brad: - bisexual cis man (he/him) - Still his old brad self if i'm being honest. - totally forgot to say i think all 3 of them go off to college together (even though jenny doesn't have to i feel like she would prob want to just for the experience, but tell me if you think differently i'm still unsure) - i really don't know what else to say sorry brad! he's literally just as silly as ever man. he's just also gay - i will say here i feel it takes a lot longer for shelby and brad to start dating then jenny and vega. they got that slow burn kinda shit going on, since a lot of that is shelby being confused about her feelings. and jenny and vega just hit it off right away if im being honest, very high school sweethearts. - (also i think shelby makes brad make a fursona to match hers, so brad got a dog fursona)

Vega: - Lesbian cis (she/her) - That ending of her just ruling cluster prime was just so crazy to me cause like, aint she like 16? - i think she has a lot of stressed nights and fearing she's not doing the right thing for her people, and jenny tries to help as much she can - that is why jenny visits so much, she wants to help her. - very much got those nights were she accidently falls asleep at her desk, jenny finding her and giving her a blanket and a kiss goodnight - it's not like she's unhappy, she is actually very very passionate about her work and wants to NOT be like her mom - and yeah she deffo goes to robo therapy for the stuff with her mom. - i think it's a conflict where vega is scared her mom is gonna come back and jenny has to reassure her that if she does they'll get rid of her for good.

imma be honest a lot of my hcs are pretty half-baked and random things, im sure im going to think of more stuff in the future but that will be in different posts.

[lincolndjarin]

Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary. 

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark. 

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him. 

But you can’t.

So you don’t. 

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.    

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.  

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away. 

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle. 

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence. 

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from. 

Lose your leg or starve. 

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful. 

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge. 

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable. 

So there’s only one other option for you. 

You steal. 

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk. 

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching. 

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day. 

You need more. 

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea. 

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal. 

The only problem is your neighbors reputation. 

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time. 

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty. 

So you’d have to be careful. 

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area. 

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings. 

Lucky you. 

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process. 

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor. 

A revolver. 

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window? 

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear. 

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness. 

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way. 

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you. 

No one would look for you. 

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner. 

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all. 

He isn’t a terrible last sight. 

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.” 

Maybe he’s right. 

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you. 

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes. 

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed. 

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch. 

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit. 

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all. 

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all. 

Fuck. 

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh. 

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively. 

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?” 

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself. 

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?” 

A lot. 

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime. 

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. 

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you. 

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising. 

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.” 

You told him you’d think about it. 

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help. 

And just like that, it was your idea. 

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after. 

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did. 

But he wanted nothing of the sort. 

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning. 

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before. 

He must like having someone to take care of. 

That’s how you explain it to yourself. 

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you. 

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was. 

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that. 

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was. 

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already. 

He had acted unsure. 

You know now that it was acting. 

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him. 

It was your idea. 

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you. 

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come. 

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning. 

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment. 

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet. 

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his. 

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed. 

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them. 

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg. 

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing. 

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs. 

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend. 

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go. 

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that. 

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them. 

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. 

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister. 

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other. 

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one. 

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down. 

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall. 

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it. 

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about. 

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules. 

You keep Jackson moving. 

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms. 

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises. 

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule. 

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans. 

“Maria gets to go on patrol.” 

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls. 

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two. 

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins. 

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work. 

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son. 

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work. 

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing. 

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists. 

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.” 

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.” 

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated. 

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother. 

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone. 

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs. 

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to. 

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.) 

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks. 

It’s all exactly how it should be. 

Until she frowns. 

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol. 

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow. 

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.” 

Odd. 

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent. 

It’s a look of pity. 

As if she feels bad for even asking. 

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind. 

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one. 

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed. 

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different. 

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy. 

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light. 

God, you're tired. 

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday. 

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment. 

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams. 

It works.

Your dreams never feature him. 

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays. 

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

[annwrites]

dance with me.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & billy run into one another at the halloween party

— tags: dancing, billy pining

— tw: drinking

— word count: 2,390

— a/n: this is an outtake from my thoroughfare series. i know it prob doesn't make much sense for it to be, as this takes place at the end of october, & that series clearly takes place in the middle of summer, & i stated in it that billy had only been in hawkins 2 months before he & reader ran away. but we're going to pretend like it fits anyway lol.

if any of this is inaccurate to what happened during the ep which featured the halloween party, it's bc it's been a few yrs since i watched season 2.

pay attention for an easter egg (song they dance to)!

You have half-a-mind to turn back around and go back home. But in no way is being there preferable, either. You’d vowed to yourself that you were going to have a good time tonight. Well, at the very least a halfway-decent one. Even if you were completely out of your depth—your comfort zone. You’d never gone to a party before. Solitude was where you thrived. Around other people you just sort of…froze up. 

But, he’d been on a tear this last week. Had broken a couple of plates and a picture frame in a drunken fury just two nights ago. You needed a night away—just a few hours—a reprieve. Even if it was going to be surrounded by other drunks. At least these were fellow kids, if nothing else. And they wouldn’t be wanting to take things out on you if it turned out alcohol didn’t suit them. Unlike someone else.

You glance to Nancy at your side, then to the domicile ahead—thumping music blaring loud enough that you can hear it from the sidewalk—and silently follow along behind her as the two of you head inside. 

Once you’ve passed the threshold, she turns back to you. “I’m going to look for Steve! He should be here already!” She yells over the deafening rock music.

“Want me to help and look for him, too?”

She nods fervently, and the two of you split up.

You make your way through throngs of people—couples making out, friends joking with one another; a boy who’s already half-drunk nearly spilling his beer on you—before you spot a door leading into the backyard. 

Unless he’s outside…Nancy may very-well have to find him all on her own, because you were absolutely not going back in there just to be squished between sweaty, hormonal adolescent bodies again.

Perhaps this was a mistake.

That opinion only cements itself further when you step onto the back patio, shutting the door firmly behind you, and look straight ahead to see Billy Hargrove doing a keg-stand as a crowd of your peers stand around him chanting “chug, chug, chug, chug!”.  He stands back on two feet once again, puckering his lips, spitting beer into the air and you roll your eyes. Those surrounding him start cheering and patting him on the back.

Like getting drunk is something to celebrate. 

And of course he’s shirtless. Because a leather jacket and jeans is obviously a Halloween costume. 

Just as you begin to turn away, arms now crossed, wondering if you shouldn’t now go back inside, Billy stops licking his lips, and laughing, or so much as paying attention to the other obnoxious idiots surrounding him when he sets eyes on you. 

Why the hell were you wearing pajamas to a damn Halloween party? Was that really supposed to constitute being a costume? Then again, he shouldn’t be complaining. You’re not wearing bottoms. He suddenly decides he likes whoever the hell the character is.

He shoves past those around him—which even includes numerous girls with hearts in their eyes—and makes his way over to you instead. 

He grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to him as he stares down at you with a smirk. “Well, well, look who it is.” 

His eyes trail from your bare legs, back to your eyes, and you feel ready to squirm away from his grip. 

He cocks his head to the side then. “Who the hell are you dressed as, anyway?”

You pull your arm away from him. “Audrey Hepburn. Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

He raises a brow. “Uh-huh.”

You shrug. “She was an actress. Before our time.”

He gives you a sultry look. “Well, whoever she was, she was clearly one hot chick.”

You blink up at him for a moment. 

“What? Not going to try and guess who I am?”

He watches as your eyes trail along his body and his jaw clenches at the sight of you taking him in. He hopes you like what you see. 

Until you gaze back up to him with an indifferent look on your face, the fire quickly extinguished.

“I feel like you just wanted an excuse to walk around shirtless.”

A corner of his mouth tugs down in a frown. “You’re one to talk.”

“I have a shirt on.”

He glances down to your legs, then back into your eyes with a raised brow. “Somebody specific you’re trying to catch the attention of tonight, sweetheart?”

He leans an arm against the side of the house. 

“Not really,” you reply looking behind him.

“C’mon, one guess. Maybe I’ll reward you if you get it right.”

You look back at him then, and he can’t believe he’s actually piqued your interest with that. 

“Do I get to choose the prize?”

He heart skips a beat. “Anything you want, darlin’.”

You study him again. “Let me guess… A greaser, from The Outsiders?”

He licks his lips. “But which one?”

It’s so incredibly obvious. At least to you. “Dallas?”

“Winner, winner,” he says, leaning the least bit toward you. “So, what’s that pretty lil’ heart desire?”

“Stop pulling my hair in class.”

He snorts. “That’s likely.”

You roll your eyes. Waste of time, clearly.

“He was damn good in that movie, wasn’t he?” He just throws it out there to keep you a bit longer.

“Hm?” You ask, looking behind him again. 

“Matt Dillon.”

You look back at him and he could swear you blush a little. On the one hand, maybe he should feel flattered since he’d dressed as his character. On the other, it’s clearly the actor that you have the hots for. Not him. No, never fucking him. Why does he try so goddamn hard with you?

“The book was better. But Matt certainly made the movie worth watching,” you say with a smile.

He frowns. “What? No love for my man, Ponyboy?” The blond, he wants to say, but doesn’t.

You glance behind him again. 

“If you’re lookin’ for fun, I’m right here, honey,” he says, smirking.

“I’m looking for Steve, actually.”

His smile drops instantly, arms crossing. “The hell do you want with him?”

You glance back to Billy for just a moment. “Stay golden, Billy,” you stay, going to step past him, until he grabs your wrist.

You look down to where he’s now touching you. Gently, but firmly, then back up to him. “Let go.”

He sneers. “The fuck is it with you, huh? I mean, what is it with him? What does he have that-” He stops himself short and watches as your brows furrow.

Too much. He’d drank too much.

“You realize he’ll never go for you, right? Too stuck up Nancy’s bony-ass instead.”

Did…did he think you liked Steve? Oh God…did Nancy ever think that as well? “I’m trying to help Nancy find him.”

He softens a little, thumb rubbing against your wrist. “I say we leave her to it, then.” 

His smirk returns and you mentally groan at whatever is about to come out of his smart mouth. 

“How about you and I take off and go make our own party?”

You roll your eyes, wrenching your wrist away. “I’d really rather not.”

He watches as you walk away, enjoying the view. 

It’s perhaps an hour later before Billy finally bothers coming inside, looking for a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, and it’s after he’s found one that he enters the living room and catches sight of you sitting on the couch, staring up at Nancy and Steve wrapped around each other, talking. 

His jaw clenches at the longing look in your eyes. Like Steve is something fucking special to be had. 

He has no idea it’s just you thinking of how lonely you feel in comparison; wishing you had someone of your very own to love.

He glances down to your hands, a red solo cup held between them, then back to you. Getting drunk to soothe your aching fucking heart, huh?

He takes a swig of his beer, thinking that it makes two of you.

He pushes past others to get to you, before plopping down beside you on the couch. And you don’t even bother looking at him. 

Meanwhile, at least three other girls are eyeing him up from across the room. He doesn’t so much as wink at them before turning back to you.

He grabs the cup from your hands, which finally gets your attention. 

“Hey!”

He takes a drink, then holds it away from him with a confused expression before shoving it back against your chest. “Water? Really? You come to a party and get yourself a cup of water, you’re that big of a fucking square?”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip. 

He swirls the neck of his beer bottle in front of your face. “C’mon, try some, sweetheart. Might like it.”

“No, thanks,” you say, looking back to your friends.

He pushes his luck further. “Never know how good somethin’ can taste until you’ve put it in your mouth.”

You groan in frustration, standing, heading back outside then, just wanting him to leave you alone.

He of course follows you out, watching as you seat yourself at a table on the back patio, resting your chin against your fist, watching others dance.

He considers for a moment, taking another drink, then setting the bottle on the table, holding his hand toward you. “Dance with me.”

Your head jerks up and in his direction then. “What?”

He shrugs. “One-time offer, sweetie.”

You glance down to his hand, then back up to him. 

He grows serious then. “Just dance with me. Please.”

This side of him you don’t get to see often. And you think the same thing now about it as you usually do when he shows it to you: you feel like, somehow, you’re the only one he gives it to. You’re unsure why, exactly. But you don’t dare ask.

Instead, you slide your palm into his—you could swear his hand is shaking a little—and he leads you into the middle of the yard. 

Just as he positions the two of you in the middle of it, the song changes. Bob Dylan humming the beginning of the tune. 

Billy rolls his eyes, staring upward. “Of course it changed to a fucking slow song.”

…And you know the moment is over.

You go to step away, until he twines his fingers between yours, pulling you back to him. “I didn’t say to leave.”

You’re not sure why you’re even giving him the time of day, but granting him moments like these, you feel, are important. He’s trying. To be decent. And if you shut it down—these moments are already rare enough as it is—he’ll one day stop trying altogether. You hope this can be a step toward him being just a bit more mature going forward. To you, if no one else.

You go to wrap your arms around his neck until he shakes his head. “None of that junior-high shit. You’re dancing with a man, not a boy.”

You stare up at him at the statement. 

He positions your right hand atop his shoulder, taking your other in his left, placing his right against the small of your back. “Need to be a bit closer, doll,” he says, pulling you toward him, making you now chest-to-chest.

You ignore your heart beating just a bit faster now.

He begins to sway back and forth, staring down at you. The look in his eyes that of…tenderness? No. He’s just tired, or he’s drank too much. He’s not looking at you any kind of way. Is he?

He then presses his forehead to yours. “You look really pretty tonight. I don’t think I told you that.”

His eyes flutter closed. 

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Thank you,” you reply quietly. You return the compliment. “You look very handsome.”

His lip twitches. “Me or Dillon?”

You shake your head lightly. “You, Billy.”

He hums his response, fingers at the small of your back curling inward, bringing you impossibly closer to him. 

He pulls back the least bit, resting his cheek atop your head, closing his eyes again with you tucked under his chin, your head against his chest. He could stay like this for… He can’t think like that. It’s just one short dance. That’s all. It means nothing.

Until he looks down at you again. 

And you look up at him with wide eyes.

His heart pounds, his hand shaking in yours as he begins to lean down. If you let him… This could be the start of something. Even if he knows he’ll do anything he can to destroy it. Because that’s what he does. To anything good he touches.

Your breaths come in short and shallow, your lips only slightly parted, your heart fluttering… And then you hear someone calling your name.

And the moment is over.

Billy stares behind you, expression morphing into seething hatred. “Always fucking ruining everything,” you hear him mutter.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He lets go of you then, stepping past you. 

“Y/N, hey, it’s time to go. Nancy’s ready to head home, so I thought I’d give you a ride, too.”

Steve then catches sight of Billy, who’s heading straight toward him and does not look happy. 

“What the fuck is it with you? Always in the goddamn way. I’ve fuckin’ had it! If she wants a ride home, I’ll give her one. She doesn’t need her white fuckin’ knight right now.” 

Just as Billy raises his fist, Steve unable to do anything more than brace for impact, you quickly throw yourself between the two of them before he swings.

You stare up at him, arms outstretched on either side of you, trying to shield Steve, knowing—rather, hoping—Billy won’t do anything so long as you—or, at the very least, a girl—is in the way. 

Billy stares down at you, teeth clenched, fist hovering next to his head, then glances back to Steve. 

“Billy, don’t,” you say softly.

He squeezes his fist more tightly. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask, a mere whisper.

His face falls, then, as well as his fist. He swallows thickly. His eyes search yours, looking for the girl he’d had in his arms just moments ago, but sees she’s taken another’s side now.

“Fuck you,” he says before stomping away.

[the-nami07]

hiii!! i love ur bf!percy hcs so much,, i was wondering if u could do one for leo ?? take ur time and its totally up 2 u😋 have a good day/night‼️🙂‍↕️

Ofc I can! Thank you for requesting!!

Dating Leo headcanons pt 1/?

I feel like y’all would be friends to lovers

You met him when you went to the forge to get a new sword

His eyes seemed to light up when he saw you

In a “This is my new bestie” kinda way

Denial faze

He realizes her loves you but he doesn't want to ruin the friendship

So he just denies the feelings

When he finally comes to his senses he confesses at Bunker 9

You came in to hang, but he spilled his guts

After a good convo, y’all are finally together!

[took long enough]

Anyways

He makes you metal flowers

Says he will stop loving you when the flowers wilt 

which they're metal, they never will

He’s an amazing cook

Like AMAZING

Makes your fav foods all the time

If you have traditional foods from your culture he learns how to make them for you.

I have a feeling he has an “I ❤️my gf/bf/partner” shirt

He probs have a few

Def has a bulletin board of pics

Most are of you, but some are of him + the 7

He has it right in front of his work table so he can always look at them

Loves hugs

I mean he LOVES them

Will definitely melt if you hug him from behind while he’s cooking

Poor baby is touch-starved pls give him hugs

He hugs you all the time

Just to feel you and know you’re here

He also loves kissing you

His fav place to put his hands is your face

Just holding your face while he kisses you

Pet names in Spanish <3

“Amor”, “querido/a”, “cariño”

Brags about you

As he should you’re amazing!

He could be in a convo about playing the harmonica and he’d be like

“Yeah, my bf/gf/partner could learn this in an hour, they’re that awesome. Did I tell you that they *insert great feat here*? Yeah, they’re the best.”

You’re his biggest priority

Anything you need he will drop what he’s doing and help

Even if it’s smth silly like finding a rock to paint like a pizza

[idfk it’s late lol]

100% plays with your fingers

Cuddling during the winter is amazing

I mean he’s basically a human heater

But summer

I can just picture this

Him on his knees begging to cuddle you

And you’re just like “No you’re a heater. Find a way to turn the heat off then sure.”

You cave though and y’all cuddle

Just with no blankets

He teaches you Morse code

Y’all have secret convos in Morse code

He’s always saying “I love you.” in Morse code

And the first time you tap it back he almost cries

He is just overwhelmed that someone loves him

I mean he lost his mom, his dad is a god and we all know how that goes

Also i refuse to ship Caleo, so she’s out of the picture

He just loves you so much

That’s all for now, lmk if you want a pt 2! Also thanks again for the request! - Nami <3

[crushedsweets]

what is jack and toby's relationship like?

oohh ive covered this a few times. i love them.

this post i did on their relationship basically sums it up !! ill do more under the cut

jack helps the proxies so that slenderman lets him stay in the forest as refuge. he doesn't like toby at first, seeing him as too violent, too aggressive, viewing himself even in his monstrous form as more human than toby - which is true, in a sense . toby kills for slenderman. he wouldn't be killing people if not for that, BUT he absolutely finds release in it - he makes a game out of it, he detaches himself from the victims and reflects all he wanted to do to his dad onto them. sometimes he catches himself saying exact phrases his dad screamed back onto them. bro probably called his victims 'npcs' at some point LOLLLL

and jack RARELY EVER does his own killing. he gets a lot of his bodies as a dark web human remains disposer(cuz he gets paid for it too), or from jeff. and it took a while for him to be able to stomach the shit he has to do to survive, so it's rough for him.

jack hates it, jack hates what toby does, but he can see so much in toby that goes beyond that and it fucking sucks and it hurts and jacks prob cried FOR toby before. not in front of him, but anytime jacks confronting his own mortality and humanity, toby is one of the first people that comes to mind each time, and he wants to throw up thinking about it. only nina can rival how emotional jack is LOL

it's kinda weird for toby the way jack treats him - sometimes he gets mad and accuses him of treating toby like some research paper in a book, because he knew jack had a decently privileged upbringing in comparison to himself, and hates the supiroirty complex. jack asks too many questions and is always just trying to grasp whats going on in tobys brain and its fucking infuritating for toby.

but jacks just always fucking there. jack is easily the most present person, always easy to find, usually calm. tim/brian are rarely around, kate is unsettling and hiding away half the time, jeffs a dick, bens unreliable, ninas in love with jeff and has a life seperate from the creeps. even natalie has long periods of time where she just cannot get herself to confront toby because she has her own issues and is struggling to even maintain her job as a waitress. she can't be there half the time.

but jacks never gone. jack rarely tells him to get the fuck out. jacks so welcoming, even if he's an annoying uptight prick who thinks he's better than everyone - and half the time, toby knows jack is. he knows jacks better than everyone else around him and it sucks fucking ASSSSSS being around someone like him, but its also something toby needs really bad

after a year or so of knowing toby jack would be able to comfortably say he loves him, whether its as a friend or a brother or whatever the fuck sort of fucked up shit is going on in these freaks heads . again, jack is INCREDIBLY FUCKING HUMAN hes emotional he loves so hard he hates himself he wants people he wants connection he feels so alone he wants everyone to be there he wants his mom he wants his siblings he wants to read he wants to walk around he wants to cook he wants to breath in fresh air. and toby really does put in some work for that. maybe not correctly, honestly he might fuck it up more often than he gets it right, but who the fuck else is gonna invite jack to go swimming on a random summer night ? how badly he wish he could see tobys face when toby asks to hang out

also this one shot from necroromantics if ur looking for good jack toby content . sorry for stealing tomb. u just get them so much . also sort of in the same vein of this drawing i did ... jack was full of life and empathy and love and joy for so long....... doesn't understand how toby never had any to begin with.

[alola-reblogging]

Hi idk if requests are open? I was wondering If you could do a request for what the alola crews addictions are? I Hope this makes sense! Thanks have a wonderful day/night 😊

Hi yes requests are OPEN! Though...I wasn't sure who you meant by Alola crew so I chose who to write for if that's okay? Re-request with someone specific if you like :) also not sure if you mean like addiction or addicted as in obsession?

Hau

I mean...its gotta be malasadas right? If you thought the answer was anything different then that's on you, my friend ♡

Gladion

Ima say Monster true emo kid bc I imagine he had a lot of long nights out training silvally, especially since they could only train at night. He needed the extra energy to stay awake. Not to mention all of the late night jobs he probs had to do for Team Skull as well. He also totally collects the cans with cool designs and keeps them displayed in his motel room, theyre all neatly stacked like its 2006 again

Moon

Judging by the manga...I'd say medicine! Moons a pharmacist in the manga so I'd say her obsession is plants/poison types, anything that can improve medicine or be studied.

As for in game Moon obviously people can kinda make her how they want too since she's a protag, but I think pokemon battles are a safe bet!

Also cannon that she's a masked royal fan! So I guess she could be addicted to battle royals too!

Thou since I'm a big fan of lonashipping ima throw Gladion as an obsession into the mix too hehe

Professor Kukui

Pokemon battles for sure, but specifically the moves. Like we know he basically uses himself as a test subject for his Pokemon to test their moves against so I guess he's a move addict? I mean let's not forget that one line in sumo about my body is ready! Woo!

Guzma

Weed. Like really....let's face it...Team Skull are definitely all pot heads. I mean one bro tried to steel a bus stop??? If that MF wasn't high then Pikachu is a dragon type.

Plus he probs smokes up to forget all of his childhood trauma stuff.

Nanu

Cat man. This guy is addicted to Meowths. I mean it's literally cannon, every conversation you have with him in game that isn't a cutscene he's legit talking about meowth. Man sees a random meowth outside, just chilling? He's taking it home fr

Lillie

It's cannon she loves the stars and astrology, so ima go with that! I know she loves fashion and sewing but I'd say the cosmos has been a more life long addiction...

Also loves plushies

Sophocles

Coding & hacking !! This guy could hack into any bank and deposit 10 billion pokedollars into your bank account if he wanted ~ but he's a good boy so he won't!!

Molayne

Weeb. Big phat weeb! His addiction is anime & video games, Molayne's secret dream is to one day become so advanced with computer science he can bring his waifu to life.

Also what is this gif I love it xD

Lusamine

I mean....it gotta be ultra beasts...she was crazy for them afterall....like anime lusamine doesn't exist in my book....even ULTRA sumo Lusamine don't exist....that first expirence playing sun left me fucked up fr....those poor frozen pokemon 😢

[oneluckydragon]

I have a few questions about Echo!

1) when did she know she used to be Darkrai? My guess is at Dark Crater, either when she first laid eyes an Darkrai and just *knew,* or something about Palkia's speech about what could happen to Darkrai after being attacked in the portal.

2) what caused the scar on her neck? (Probs darkrai tbh)

3) alright so this is probably me overthinking things but did Echo change genders?? Asking cause Darkrai is typically referred to as 'he/him', and he has a distinctly masculine voice in his movie. Plus, it also makes sense with Darkrai and Cresselia being opposites: Cress is canonically a female while Darkrai is depicted as a male, full moon vs new moon, sweet dreams vs nightmares, day and night, light and dark, and so on. So did Darkrai go from he/him to ???/??? (as a 'human') to she/her? Did Darkrai just not give a shit? Have we been accidentally misgendering Darkrai this whole time?

Basically I'm asking b/c 1) confusion, and 2) is it another layer of symbolism about how Echo is nothing like her former self?

@maxtheirisagent tagging you like requested!

Thanks so much for asking about Echo! I'm happy to answer any questions so feel free to pester me whenever you'd like. It's so exciting that someone wants to know more about her. c:

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

The truth about Echo's past life as Darkrai clicked the moment she first met Cresselia within Azurill's nightmare.

Not only did she piece the truth together because the sight of her long-lost sister-- someone she had scorned and despised and hated in her original life-- jarred her so much that it cleared away some of the fog in her memory. But it was the feeling. The rush of anger, of fury, the ache she felt upon seeing Cresselia again after years and years of separation. It awoke something inside Echo that felt real in a way she couldn't ignore. Like a puzzle piece finally slotting into place.

And even more, Echo had her suspicions leading up to said point. She cannot dream at all. Not ever. Never figured out why during her time as a human and Eevee, and yet other Pokemon tend to suffer nightmares around her (even as a human, this ability Bad Dreams never went away) which had caused some pain for both Sora and Grovyle over the years. And Echo never shared the secret that she doesn't dream. She never confessed to suspecting that these nightmares might be her fault, so Sora and Grovyle never understood the origins of their own nightmares either-- but Echo was able to deduce that she was indeed the source of the problem. Especially after Chatot had explained that Darkrai caused nightmares and pain wherever he went, and the correlation between Echo's powers, her amnesia, her sudden appearance on the beach, her life with Grovyle in the dark future, the Dimensional Scream/connection to the Time Gears, and Darkrai's personality were too coincidental.

What solidified this conclusion is that while Cresselia was traveling with Team Wish during their attempts to reach Dark Crater, Sora did not suffer nightmares at all-- for the first time in what seemed like ages. And it was a like a gut punch, a vicious stab in the heart, and Echo immediately knew why. It was because Cresselia was accompanying them, and her gentle light purifies bad dreams and brings good health. Someone that could cancel out the nasty effect Echo seems to have on others... and it did. Cresselia DID cancel out these nightmares and that could only mean one thing.

And Echo was angry, then. Angry at Cresselia. Angry at herself. And fueled that anger towards fighting Darkrai for the sake of everyone she loved.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

You're right! The scar on Echo's neck is indeed from Darkrai. In fact, both of Echo's scars (the large one along her neck AND the one denting her leg as an Eevee/Umbreon or rather on her arm as a human). Each one was received technically at the same time, but with a twist! During the final battle at Dark Crater, Echo and Darkrai both went berserk and clashed in a desperate attempt to knock each other out.

Echo inflicted a wound onto Darkrai which took sizeable chunks out of his forearm. When Palkia shattered the dimensional portal it then instantly scarred that injury and Darkrai then carried it through ALL future lifetimes. Which is why Echo still has that scar as a Human -> Eevee -> Umbreon. Despite Darkrai receiving this injury during the peak of their final battle, Echo has bore it for all of her past lives up until the point she actually GIVES it to Darkrai. A new wound for him. An old wound for her.

Simultaneously, Darkrai inflicted the neck scar onto Echo who then carries this mark the rest of her life as an Umbreon. It's a bit of a coincidence that her neck scar ends up somewhat, strangely, resembling the red fringe that Darkrai has around his own neck. She finds this to be some kind of messed up joke being played on her by the universe, because now there's ANOTHER reminder of her old life being thrust in her face whenever she catches a glimpse of her reflection. (It's bad enough looking like Dusknoir as an Umbreon, but now this too? How unfortunate.)

A major purpose to these scars is that I think they are a bold (albeit complicated) way to show that both your past and present choices can cause self-harm when destructive, and that it can leave permanent marks that will haunt you through your entire life (or lives in this case!) but that in the end it doesn't define you. Despite everything, you can still grow beyond the trauma inflicted upon yourself. You can be more than the bad choices that hurt you. You can learn to live beyond your own perception and expectations! You can let go of your own mistakes and let them heal/scar, let them fade. And move on to be better.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

And my friend, you are not overthinking things. I haven't explained Echo's progression through her life-stages yet, but hopefully I can shed some light on that topic now. (Apologies ahead of time if this is overly convoluted!)

Echo did change gender! Like this:

(Darkrai) he/him or they/them -> (Human) they/them -> (Eevee/Umbreon) she/her or they/them

The reasoning behind this particular progression is that I am guilty of inserting the main game lore into PMD. Whenever I think of legendary or mythical Pokemon (that aren't officially assigned male or female like Latios and Latias) I always immediately think of them as nonbinary in my mind. Darkrai in the PMD universe seems to use male pronouns as mentioned (or rather in the movie, like you stated, had a male-presenting voice) so I think Echo would have used he/him as a personal preference while living as Darkrai. However, he was still technically "genderless" as a mythical (or even nonbinary) and thus was comfortable with they/them as well.

Echo as a human is nonbinary and no longer uses male pronouns. I like to think of them as Echo's "blank slate" form. They think, feel, and appear in very simple but strong terms. And as such their gender binary has been washed away too! They use they/them because it's what Grovyle chose when he met them in the dark future. Grovyle decides that Echo is human based on what minimal knowledge he's gained from ancient tales/myths/glyphs about extinct humans, but he has no idea what a true human would look like since humanity is long dead. And since Echo has no distinct male or female characteristics as a pseudo-human, Grovyle doesn't shove them into a specific box of labels and instead starts using they/them to accommodate. Echo accepts it. Besides, with both amnesia clouding their past and a body that doesn't quite fit, Echo never really felt compelled to argue against his decision. It seemed counter-intuitive and like a waste of energy to argue. Echo was too busy being angry about other things to really care.

Echo as an Eevee/Umbreon uses she/her pronouns. This is because Sora starts using them immediately upon meeting Echo on the beach, and Echo (with a second round of amnesia and a body that now presents more towards female appearances) accepts it because it just makes sense. She has no memory of her past, and because Sora wholeheartedly starts calling Echo "she", well, Echo just goes with it. Because someone as sweet as Sora must know what she's talking about, right? She doesn't seem like the type to lie or play pranks, after all.

Additional note: Even as an Eevee/Umbreon, Grovyle still uses they/them for Echo since that's what he's used too. And Echo is fond of him using it anyway, so she is comfortable with it. It feels like a little promise between them. And it brings back some of the sparse good memories Echo had with Grovyle while stuck in the dark future together.

Additional ADDITIONAL note: Once Echo and Cresselia have begun reconciliation and start repairing their sibling relationship, she often refers to Echo has her "brother" out of old habit (eons of habit, really). Cresselia normally apologizes for the mistake and tries to correct herself but Echo isn't bothered by this at all. "I'm still your brother," Echo tells her, "If that's what you want to call me, then I see no reason to stop." And Cresselia appreciates it, because she's really trying, but it might take a little bit to re-train herself.

And you got it, my friend! The change in Echo's pronouns IS symbolism about how Echo has grown/evolved beyond her original self. That she is no longer the same being of pain and fury that Darkrai was-- and that she has moved away from this shadow of her past. That she has struggled to become something she's proud of, someone tempered by patience and hope. Love has changed Echo, and thus Echo is happy with this new version of herself because her loved ones chose it for her. And she is okay with that!

I also really enjoy the idea that while Echo and Cresselia are still opposites in both powers and personality, they now share common ground on at least ONE thing after being entirely different for their whole mutual existence. They can relate. They can be siblings again. They can heal. And they do together, they work and work and work on being good to each other and being overall better individuals. And they learn to love each other again. <3

[creepling]

here are my headcanons that clash with the lore [aka ronnie hobb's headcanons he just makes up on the spot me thinks] i have for tcm game characters bc i have writer's block and i need out of it FAST.

danny does not go to university, i'm sorry. i know i know the home gives him a scholarship but he is a blue collar guy. he has to make his own living, he's a hands on guy and he's got COMMON SENSE. no working-class person in the 70s is going to college, they know learning on the job is both sustainable for living (plus he's in a situation where he has to leave the home at 18, so he gotta pay city rent prices to have a roof over his head) and better to learn a trade while getting a paycheck. he was an apprentice since he was 18, and is a year into working as a car mechanic in austin. he does night/weekend classes at the university, probs something in humanities or art. he frequents the student bars when he has his time off, and that is when he meets maria + the gang. he knows leland from fixing his car from time to time, and when danny sees him at a bar one night, hanging out with maria, he knows right away he's asking him to introduce him to her.

leland is NOT the mf that gets the friend group together. this mf has a lot of misogyny to unlearn from growing up in a southern suburb. he took an elective in an art just so he can be in a class with "hot chicks". he doesn't even consider being friends with women at first bc he used to think girls = protential girlfriends/future wives. it wasn't until he found out sonny (the first friend he made, his bff) was close with maria, julie and connie that he warmed up to the idea of all hanging out together. sure... his crush on julie played a factor on him wanting to stay, but being around such open-minded people made him relax and unlearn the shitty traditions he didn't like in the first place. now they're like sisters to him and he lets maria braid his hair when stoned and makes attempt at getting connie out of her shy shell. watching julie from afar, remembering her off-hand remark about not wanting to be in a relationship, keeping his feelings to himself; because he doesn't wanna ruin the bond they all have.

the reason why julie is not wanting to date is because she comes to the realisation of her sexuality. she realises she likes men because, men tend to like her first, and it's easy to love someone who loves you back (typical fire sign move). and she's never picky, she says she doesn't care about looks; it's more the personality. and that is true but, for a guy if he has good style and funny -- she's settled. then she will see a lassie and think "she is the most ethereal thing i've laid eyes on". the intensity of her love for women compared to men hits her overnight. she lets her love for women shine through her platonic relationships; connie, maria and ana are her first priorities (especially connie). she likes sleepovers, having the illusion of living with a s/o while sharing a bed and making breakfast in the morning. she loves showering her friends in compliments, giving them makeovers, taking any excuse to be close to them and show her adoration. her subconscious desire to be in a relationship with a woman lives vicariously through the platonic relationships she has with her feminine peers.

the only person who can see right through it is connie, someone who has her sexuality figured out. she went through the same self-discovery, after all. but loving julie means moving on from her lover who she left behind, so connie is tied at both ends. does she take the risk, find new beginnings, even when there is no concrete proof julie is capable of loving her? or does she keep her promise, return to her lover back home, even if that meant witnessing the promise broken on the other side? what if she found another fate, got married, had kids, kept the feelings hidden. and when she sees how men look at julie, and how boys looked at her past lover, the insecurity prevails. why should they take the risk for her, a singular person, when there is the familiar option lining up to be her husband? *queue Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan*

[goldfishinpainttubes]

Okay, so I watched the new movie Wish last night, and let me tell you I have more than a few things to say about it. So imma try and pin down the more tangible complaints I have.

Also, my sister watched it before me and she did a bit of her own research, so my sources mostly come from her. [I cannot bear the pain of researching it myself yet]

But first, I would like to prelude by saying that Disney had so much good material just sitting there in their hands.

We could've had freaking STARBOY! Not to mention the first Disney romance in forever. And a villain couple?!

Well, they probs would've botched the whole thing up anyway, but it would be far better than this hot mess!

Now, without further ado...

Numero Uno

The animation was choppy, and looked so unfinished. To me it looked like they coloured in the sketch and then decided they were too lazy to render it any further.

Numero Dos

The film all-round felt very unnatural and kinda emotionless (or emotions that were far too dramatic for the given circumstances)

And the extras?!

*proceeds to put on mocking voice*

"I want to live here!" "This food is delicious!" "But king Magnifico..."

Oh shut up! It sounds like a 2nd grade school play!

Also since I started on Magnifico, dude switched from cool and understanding to "I decide what they deserve!" in less than 10 seconds. Like bro chill.

Numero Tres

Don't even get me started on the songs

The timing was wacky, the lyrics didn't make sense, if they were trying to go for an improvised-on-the-spot vibe they definitely got it.

Most of them sound like they're trying very hard to be a rap, but are holding back because, no it's not rap, it's a princess song. Anyway, they end up getting neither.

And the lyrics!

Vague, ungrammatical, and doesn't resonate.

Numero Cuatro

The song 'At all costs' (or "Promise as one does")

Now, when my sister heard this for the first time she didn't know what to think.

She said it felt almost like they were singing a love song to the wishes. But... that can't be right

But it was!

It was meant to be sung from Starboy to Asha, and the original title was 'Love you as one does'!

So he's a star, and immortal, but ✨️feelings✨️ And he doesn't want Asha to get hurt and so he tries to convey the weight of his feelings, and she sings back, and the creators are so lazy!

I don't think they changed a word from the damn song besides switching 'love' out for 'promise'. It made so much sense when I heard the context of the lyrics!

Oh heck, now I'm missing Starboy again...

Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day

[worriedvision]

I love your content so much XD.

I dunno if you still do poly fics or moved away from that (feel free to ignore this if you have.)

This is for Kavethem x reader because I've gained a small obsession with Kaveh atm.

If you can do something with this shop can you make it hella angsty? I was gonna say plot was (**Reader was going to confess to Alhaitham and asked Kaveh to help them w, but somehow it goes wrong or Alhaitham doesn't accept it. Prob later on they go to tell Kaveh Abt it and gets sympathy from their friend, only to find out Kaveh confessed to Haitham and they started dating a day later.**)

Could end with Reader yelling at them or walking off depressed?

Like I said it might be wayyy to similar to your Cynari poly fics so feel free to ignore.

Love your content can't wait to see more ;p

Okay so I have thought of a way of making this work. It'll make more sense as you read it, and it's gonna be one of those awkward 'this is my boyfriend' moments. Gender neutral reader, angst obviously haha! I did take this a different route, hopefully you like it!

--

You had asked Alhaitham if he wanted to go out for a meal with you, and when he said yes you were ecstatic. He returned your feelings!

...Or so you thought.

Turns out, he didn't think this was anything different from your other hangouts. When you 'asked him out', you had asked him if he wanted to go out for dinner tonight. In hindsight, you should have realised that your words didn't convey that you wanted to confess your love for him. When he showed up with Kaveh, you thought Kaveh was just a friend of his.

"I brought my boyfriend along, if that's alright with you." Alhaitham states. "We have our date night tonight, but I figured we may as well do this instead." He nods, Kaveh rolling his eyes.

"Oh, please. You forgot about our date night, and-" Kaveh stops himself, clearing his throat. "At least you were honest with me, though." Kaveh smiles at Alhaitham, the pit in your stomach growing by the second. He kisses him on the cheek before taking a seat next to each other, you sitting there as you process everything.

"Is there something wrong?" Alhaitham asks, seeing how unusually quiet you are.

"Oh..." You trail off, thinking of a good response. "It's nothing." You wince, Kaveh seeming to understand that you didn't realise he was dating Alhaitham.

"Did you think I was single and available?" Alhaitham asks, Kaveh looking over. "I'm sorry, but as you can see, I have got someone."

"Well, obviously! You never came out about us being partners, you insisted it would only lead to conflict, and look where that has us!" Kaveh tuts, crossing his arms and looking to the side.

"To someone thinking they have a chance with me, and you announcing our dating in public?" Alhaitham retorts, shaking his head.

"Well you were the one who said I was your boyfriend, publicly, first!" Kaveh groans out, you feeling like an ant as you feel everyone's eyes on you.

'That's such a shame', you hear a woman whisper.

'Well, those two certainly look good together', you hear someone else whisper.

'That person sitting across from them looks really pathetic', a man whispers, the person drinking with them stomping harshly on his foot to scold him silently.

"I think I'll just go home..." You trail off, getting up and putting on your jacket.

"What did you think was going to happen, _?" Alhaitham asks, looking at you as he crosses his arms. "Confess your love to me in public, where I would harshly turn you down?"

"Alhaitham, that's too far!" Kaveh yells, Alhaitham turning back to him to argue even more.

You leave while the two are fighting, knowing that you couldn't bare to turn back and see all the sets of eyes watching you leave with humiliation running through your veins.

[mangio-formaggio]

Stranger Things AU for HSM

because it's (almost) the spooky season and this time last year I was obsessed with Eddie x Steve. So you know... angsty teenagers somewhat babysitting their friends and having sexuality crisis? Anyone? May ended up being a little bit Scooby Doo-ish, we will see.

- It's all starts with Wildcats leaving the evening practice and Zeke is decides to shortcut through the park in the night. And he gets caught by the Demogorgon (prob because the cookies in his backpack smells too good lol).

— The only person who knows that Zeke took a turn to the park is Ryan. Cause he may have a tiny crush on Zeke and sneaked that night in gym to watch the boys play. And when the practice was over he had to rush outside before get caught or stack at school for the whole night.

— What Ryan is totally forgot is that he was supposed to pick up Kelsi, who worked late at a new song. And she did indeed got stack in the school. And she hadn't been seen next morning.

— Sharpay on the other hand used to Zeke's attention at this point, and very confused when he's not there next morning to give her fresh bakery before classes start.

— Long story short when Zeke's and Kelsi parents are raising alarm the next morning the whole class is send to the principal's office to be questioned.

— And there's a gossip that Ryan killed Kelsi. Weird quiet brother of the most terrifying girl in school murdered someone? Makes sense.

— Wildcats aren't believe those rumors, but they figures out that Ryan could see Zeke if he was in school last night for Kelsi. So they ask.

— Ryan is pretty stressed at this point, so he absently mentions to the team about Zeke and the park. And of course they immediately decide to investigate themselves.

— At the same time, Sharpay finds Kelsi's stuff at the theater, but the new song is not there. She looks around the piano and there's nothing but wired amount of wet leaves. But it wasn't raining last night.

— In the park Wildcats can't find any clues about Zeke. But Troy finds a girl. Scared and unable to speak. She refuses to be taken to the police station. She can lift thing with her mind and solves equations just after one look at them. All the boys can find out about her is that her name is Gabriella and she worries about her mom.

— Taylor and Martha see how Gabi solves equations an wowed. Also wtf jocks are doing around such a smart new girl? And Taylor being Taylor very quickly understands what's going on here.

— The company of other girls helps Gabi to relax and open up a bit, even if she still in shock: doesn't remember how she ended up in a forest and what's the danger is treating her and the whole East High now.

— While this group is connecting the dots and figures out how to use Gabi's power to communicate with Zeke in Upside-down, Sharpay is trying to help Ryan snaps out of anxiety and insist they should continue rehearsals.

— So twins are at the theater when Wildcats and girls are messing with a school radio. And then suddenly the lights are starts flickering, the speakers around empty school are broadcasting white noise...

— And then everyone hear weak trembling voice. Kelsi's voice. She's singing her new song. Quietly and slightly hysterically.

— Wildcats are confused where exactly the voice is coming from: they tried to reach out Zeke in possible parallel universe, not drama club, right?

— When they rushed into the theater they finds only Evan's twins on a verge of a heart attack (and Ryan is also is about to have nervous break down).

— For a couple of seconds they all are trying to sing along, in a desperate attempt to let the Kelsi know that she's heard. Next moment the lights are off completely.

— The singing stops. But they can hear Kelsi's breathing heavily. And then there's a distinct low growl. One second in speakers. Another somewhere backstage.

— Suddenly the light is on again. And fall clearly inhumane shadow appears on the side of the stage.

— The monster jumps. The kids are frozen by terror. Gabi lifts her hands and screams and the next thing everybody knows is that the speakers are broken with a loud crack, the monster is gone and everything seems back to normal.

— Expect it's not and everybody understands very clearly now what's took their friends. The jocks, the nerds and drama kids join forces. They need a plan.

— While the monster-hunting is discussed and organized, some emotional drama unravels.

— Troy is completely mesmerized with Gabi. But she doubts whether he actually likes her or he likes her cool superpowers. After all they can't even properly communicate. She's also remembers herself we'll enough to understand that her life is somewhere else and she needs to focus on finding her mother.

— Sharpay is mad because she likes to be in control. And currently is nothing can be controlled except her own sanity. She hesitant about joining the upcoming quest. She's a performer and a school princess. Not a fighter. She can't wander through the park in this shoes, thank you very much. On the other hand, she can't leave her brother, who's very determined to help Kelsi as much as he can. Lastly, even if she would never admit, she worries sick about Zeke.

— Taylor knows their plan is just absolutely terrible, dumb and suicidal idea. But she's also have a ridiculously amount of fun navigating the attack plan and investigating where the portal to Upside-down is. Also the feeling of community is so new and nice. She just can't leave those idiots on her own.

— Chad isn't jealous. That would be stupid. And what kind of jerk would be jealous of Gabi when she's evidently went through horrible trauma, apparently wanted by some shady government people and is under constant pressure of saving everybody. But it just so hard to take that in a crisis like this Troy is neglecting his leadership in order to look after his new girlfriend... Surprisingly good thing, however, is that Evans twins are actually helpful. Ryan is very easy to become friends with actually: he can handle that bat, sincerely care about this small Kelsi person and is fun to joke around. His arms are surprisingly strong, his eyes are... well, blue. Oh, and his sister undeniably was born to lead some small army or shoot some monsters right between eyes.

— Ryan is probably running on a pure adrenaline at this point. His body just can't tolerate this amount of stress anymore, so it's almost euphoric state of confidence now. He almost doesn't recognize himself. Like volunteering on a reconnaissance mission? Or agreeing to arm himself with a gigantic bat? Or talking to Chad Danforth like they knew each other for ages? And Ryan even dares to flirt? And tease? And yeah, having a crush on an another straight athlete is still absolutely terrible idea, but maybe they gonna die tomorrow so what the hell?

— Anyways... They find the portal. They find both of their friends. Alive and mostly well. They survived on Zeke's cookies.

— And Demogorgon finds them.

— The fight is unravel. Boys kicking and punching. Sharpay shooting. Taylor and Martha are evacuating Zeke and Kelsi. Gabi stays behind to close the portal.

— Everyone makes it out alive. Chad and Ryan make out celebratory. Sharpay is already planing a show based on this adventure. She would go out with Zeke the next day after he will rest, don't worry.

— Troy is brooding though. He rushes to the park like everyday since. But it completely normal trees and grass now. Nothing paranormal. So he slowly loses hope. Until one day they're having a game and the broken speakers are suddenly working again. And there's a Kelsi's song singing with the most beautiful and gentle voice he had ever heard.

— So they make a hole in theatre's wall to helps Gabi get out. Ms D isn't pleased though. They all got detention till the graduation. Can as well start to participate in musicals yk.

[toxicanonymity]

Do you ever struggle with feelings of discouragement or inadequacy if your fics don’t do as well as you had hoped?

I’m struggling with that myself. I try not to get so hung up on it but it’s very hard, especially when something I’m so proud of doesn’t do as well as my other works.

I don’t even feel motivated to write bc I don’t wanna set myself up for disappointment

Discouragement, sure, I think that's natural sometimes. But I really don't feel like stats have anything to do with adequacy. Baring my soul, yuck. But fuck it we ball. Sorry it's a long answer.

I don't think I've ever answered a serious ask aside from the time i created Dr. rock which hardly counts but I've seen a lot of people struggling with this lately and hope this might be idk comforting to a person or two without leading to debate/discourse.

You mentioned something you're proud of isn't doing as well as your other works, and I can see how that would be disappointing. For laughs, I'll compare 2 of mine. These fics are impossible to compare (as are most, I think) but I def understand the urge to measure yourself against what you see as the potential. Aches: <1k popular trope I banged out in no time, wasn't sure about it, literally thought "people don't have to like it" before I hit post. >4 notes per word. Left in Lincoln: >22k posted so far, challenging, writing it for months. Has possibly driven me crazy bc I had this passing thought the other day and not about TLOU. (I didn't feel like re-reading it all): "I should just rewatch the movie. . .wait." 🤡 The whole Lincoln series combined has fewer notes than Aches lmao. But it's far more rewarding in getting to see it come to life, quality of engagement, and stretching myself 😏. It's not for everyone, for various reasons. Surely would have better stats without the twist I went with. But at what cost??

-------

Often, if people don't read or like something, it's a reflection of their own interests, limitations, and assumptions. And the right "fit."

I don't rly read much in general, but specifically, I rarely read long stuff (if I do I prob scan a lot tbh). I normally only want, if any, just enough plot/premise to build sexual tension. I don't read fluff or angst. I don't have the attention span / commitment to get invested in original characters. I tend to avoid stuff similar to what I'm working on. I make assumptions - If there's no word count, maybe it's too long. I know a lot of the fics I skip for these reasons must be fantastic. Assumptions I experience - I've seen very popular fics in the wild that strike me as dark, creepy, or pervy but aren't tagged that way. So some things that are tagged dark, etc., including plenty of mine, might not be dark in the way people assume based on their own ideas, or based on what others do tag. Also some people think I only write dark when sometimes it's just horny (see master list).

I've sometimes found myself thinking "It sucks more people don't read this bc i bet they would enjoy it" (not just my own fics). It might sound egotistical but I think it's often true.

------

Of course I want engagement because that means more people reading something which can mean more interaction, discussion, learning what you liked, what you think, etc. that's what I love.

But notes aren't rly near the top of what I care about, even though it does feel great to get them and I truly appreciate every single one.

Night walks doesn't get nearly as many notes as some of my other stuff, especially these days, but it's fun to write and I like to feed his feral fans who only get more into him with time. Same with raider: among those who do read and engage, I sense rising enthusiasm, thirst, and rate of falling in love with him (my bad). That's all worth more than 1000 likes to me. I have a good time writing these guys, so I write them more than other ones that get way more notes 🤷. I'm not saying notes don't matter at all, I know they affect exposure and engagement. But if just did what gets notes, I don't think I'd have such high quality engagement bc I'd just bang out more stuff with the most popular tropes instead of our fave Joels and those destined to become our faves bc they offer something special.

My outlook was the same before I had so many followers btw. Rock Bottom (22k) was what I felt like writing, still more ambitious than anything I've done in the Halloween fandom. I was disappointed it got way less attention than my one shots, but I know it's a banger, just certainly not for everyone lol.

-

I'm sorry for what you're experiencing and feeling, but I think it's very common and hope you can reframe it to not feel inadequate. I especially hope it doesn't discourage you from writing. ❤️

[panzershrike-pretz]

Lanterns

Part 4

Disclaimer: -----

Summary: A Goddess who lost her faith, trying to get back to her senses so her family doesn't fall apart.

Warnings: -----

Taglist: @malarkgirlypop , @bucky32557038ww2, @xxluckystrike (if you want in or out, just tell me!)

-> Image below found here.

Hydra hadn't noticed that she kept the lantern as she made her way back to shore. Her feet dragged along the sand, so lost in her own mind she coudn't even focus on whatever she needed to do - it only clicked when she found herself crashing against one of her crewmates.

"Oh, i'm so sorry! I didn't- well, i wasn't-"

"Is 'at yours?", Sirius pointed at the lantern, confused as to why his sister had it.

"Uh... yeah... kind of. An elder gave it to me at the church..." Hydra said slowly, incapable of meeting his eyes. She wasn't planning on dealing with him right now. "She was so sweet, i couldn't say no..."

Sirius smirked, walking around her as if to make sure she was in one piece, having a good look to see if she had hit her head against something. Then, he grabbed her by the hand to give her a little spin. "Ok. Who're ya and what'd ye do with my sister?"

"What? Why?", she laughed, smiling at is anttics.

"Well 'cuz the Hydra I know would ne'er be seen with one o' those", he pointed at the lantern once again, curious. "Ye'll keep it?"

"Why are you like this, stupid?" She scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him. "As a matter of fact, I was indeed plannin' on keepin' it."

" 'Kay, spill yer beans. Ye ain't my Hydra, are ya?", he kept his stupid smirk, crossing his arms. Part of him was proud of his baby sister for deciding to keep it - and another, bigger part of him, was worried she might be really sick. "Go on, I know ye're just someone in disguise. Hit me with a bullet, ye Royal sea rat."

"Sirius! I'm not one of those bastards!"

"Well, one can only guess... I think I lost me darling sis'...", he said, trying to seem sad while wipping an imaginary tear out of his eye. "She'll be so dearly missed... I do wonder what is my part in her heirloom... Can I keep yer good stuff? I might sell yer clothes, those would make me get some good booty"

Hydra rolled her eyes at him, making her way towards the ship - but Sirius was right on her tail, questioning her every move 'till she stopped right on her tracks and stared him down.

"Didn't Sam give you something to do?"

"He did." Sirius nodded. "But I won't. As Ol' Athena said... not feelin' it."

"You do know that you're not in a position to choose, don't you?"

"Then why aren't ye doing what he told ye? If me memory isn't faillin' me, Sam told ya to get mor' coal and fire wood." Sirius watched carefully as his sister's face dropped in disbelief. He knew she had forgotten - and he also knew he was told to help her out, but decided not to simply to be lazy on the beach. "No prob, little Ibis, I can take the blame for ya. Ye know, like always."

"You just wan't something to manipulate me with, that's what you want."

"Yeah, that too... but I wouldn't like my sweet always-on-point smart-ass responsible baby sister to get in trouble, would I?"

Hydra could not believe her ears, having to contain her laugh. "You manipulative scurvy snake!"

Sirius shook his shoulders. "Worth a try."

As both started walking back - Hydra to drop off the lantern and Sirius to rub into Sam's face how useless he was -, they just let the sound of the waves hitting the beach fill the air. The man was whistling some song she could only make out half of - probably a sea shanty.

Some seagulls looked over at them, curious and unbothered, sitting over in one of the little docks where fishermen would sit all day long waiting for bites.

She still had Maria's words in her mind and wasn't really able to ignore it. Something inside her was screaming that she needed to step up to her own responsibilities and make her title worth it at least a little bit. She felt jealous, of course.

Sirius was also a God; he took care of the night, the stars, the dogs and secrets. The man was good at his job, even though he's not exactly that interested in it, seeing as he did nothing more than the basic stuff - Hydra knew he would much rather prefer to stay snuggled up with both Michael and the Captain, Jeremy. And they were good in their own realms too.

Michael would always talk about his duties some thousand years ago, when someone stops to listen to his tellings. He loves to tell stories about the old rituals and celebrations for the moon himself, dancing around at night with the wolves and people of his own little kingdom.

Jeremy, in another hand, was one of the youngest Gods there was, but he also provided enough. He made the wind blow strong into Blithe's sails and always looked for his crew with his protective demeanor.

Hydra decided not to mention Athena, Rodion nor Darty. They all couldn't care less for their duties - specially Darty, since their whole thing was looking pretty and cursing narcisistic people, or something. It was pure hypocrisy in Hydra's eyes.

She didn't even notice when Peggy came running in their direction, jumping in the sand. The woman only saw the dog when it was almost too late and she was already tripping both pirates - who had too much luck not to fall face first on the ground.

Peggy barked, wagging her tail while running around them. She wanted to play and wasn't much preocupied if she made anyone eat sand so she could have company.

Sirius laughed as he took Hydra's lantern out of her hands. He knew she needed some time and decided to drop it off with her things by himself - and also, be the only one who'll need to hear any rants about not doing their tasks.

Hydra looked at him while he walked, somewhat grateful. Then she felt Peggy bite ate her wing feathers, pulling the woman to play.

Come on! Come on! Come look at what I found!

The dog barked as she let go of Hydra, running head first into the beach's waves and submerging her nose, only to immediately back down with a big shell in her mouth. She walked over to Hydra, nudging her with with her nose so she could take the shell and throw it.

Hydra did exactly that. Too many times, to be clear. As always, Peggy would run after it, her whole body shaking and then jump, probably swallowing some sand as she came back to another throw.

Eventually, Hydra found herself sitting in a rock while the dog ran wild, taken by the zoomies. The lapwings and seagulls would land and then immediately fly off again because of her.

Peggy came happily to her again, carrying something in her mouth to show the woman. The dog had her tongue out and whatever it was she had with her was trying to wiggle it's way out. It was only when she was really close that Hydra noticed it was a crab. How the fuck did Peggy find a crab?

The animal wasn't exactly happy with it's new uber dog, and when it got the chance, Peggy screamed the loudest she could, being pinched by it's claws on her lip. She violently shook her head and sent it flying to the sand, right before barking all her swear words at it.

Bad bad! Bad! Not good, you behaved bad! Bad! Her mind repeated, as it was the worse thing she could think of for calling the crab. She sure hated being called bad girl, so it would too, right?

Well, the crab only stood it's ground, menacingly waving it's claws at her before running away to the nearest bush.

Peggy looked over at where it ran to, making a quick mental note not to grab anymore of those things. It would fight back. It was definetely not food, sadly.

"Did you learn anything from that, Peggy?", Hydra asked amidst tearful laughs. "Who am I kidding? You would never."

Peggy immediately forgot about her newest unlocked fear, making her way towards the woman and sitting with the head on her lap to get some good scratches behind the ear.

"What do you think, Peggy?", she asked. "Do you like the lanterns?"

I don't know, is it food? The dog looked up, interested.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what do you have in mind."

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

Sirius didn't really take long before making his way up to Blithe's main deck. He was lost in his own mind, staring at the carved drawings on that lantern, when he felt eyes burning at his skin and looked up, only to find himself face to face with a very pissed off Seamus who was having a very bad time.

"What? Did Dean not kiss ya today?" The God asked, forgetting completely that Sam was, in fact, expecting him to return with wood and coal.

"No. He actually did." Sam narrowed his eyes at the man. "Aren't you forgetting something, pretty boy?"

Sirius looked around, then it downed on him. He smiled, playfully.

"Ahhh, Sammy, ye know how things are... would ye forgive an old man for forgettin' stuff?"

"Not exactly when that old man looks younger than me. Where is the stuff?"

"Look, this time I do have a good reason!", Sirius started, hoping that his story would make Sam completelly forget about his lack of responsibility. "I was followin' Hydra 'cuz, ye know, she's the good siblin'. Then she simply vanished out of nowhere. And I was soooo lost... and sad... definetely sad. And lost."

"Bullshit."

"Wait! Lemme finish! Then I made me way back to beach, aye, but I was just really worried 'bout her. Then I waited 'till she came back... and she ne'er did."

Seamus rolled his eyes so hard he thought they were going to fall off his face. "Right. Then how would you have this lantern? Did some ol' bunch o' dogs bring it to you, flea bag?"

"The woman that came in her place, and me swear on me life-"

"Stop it."

"A'ight. She did come back, yeah, with this. Mine sister's just goin' badonkers and accepted this lantern as a gift from an old woman."

Seamus stared at the thing, deciding if he would believe Sirius or not. It was a really hard choice, seeing as he knew Hydra fucking hated getting anything to fo with the Night of Libero Sanctis and Sirius would actually come up with whatever excuse he could to cover up his lazyness. Eventually, though, he decided to quietly nod and go along. Something in him felt some slight hint of truth in Sirius' words.

"She's commin' around." The man said, tilting his head. "I'll let your stupidness slide and won't tell Jeremy."

"What would he do?", Sirius laughed. "Put me to sleep on the couch? The man loves me too much for tha', he cannt dream of sleepin' withou' me. Ye know, I'm actually pretty good to hug and..."

"I really don't need to know how's your love life. Shut your trap before I change my mind and have meeting the Cat o' Nine."

"Did you also do that to your men in the army?" Sirius teased, smug. "Did they know what a Cat o' Nine was? Is the cool and collected Cap'n Finnegan loosing his composure? Would yer men be proud?"

"No they fuckin' didn't because they weren't smatasses like you, shark bait! And, in fact, I think they would've begged me to put your down, dog."

"Ohhh, shiver me timbers! Ye'll have to stop hangin' the jib, matey!"

Sam frowned. He sure did want to shove Sirius down the plank.

Sirius saw this as a win. Making Sam unconfortable was one of his favorite past times, anyway.

He dropped the lantern off with Hydra's stuff before going up to the Captain's Cabin. The door was unlocked, so he saw himself right in, as usual, but found Jeremy was not there. Instead, was Michael, sitting in bed, reading a book.

The room was big and confortable - way more so than the lower deck stuffed with hammocks and snores all night long. Sirius smiled as he walked up to Micah, crawling into bed and letting himself fall just close enough to the other man so he would notice.

"Hey, darlin'", Michael smiled, closing the book before giving Sirius all his attention. "Are you alright?"

"Jus'... thinkin'."

"You don't do that often". Michael began playing with the other's hair, waiting to see if he had anything more to say. "What is fillin' yer mind, hearty?"

Sirius couldn't help himself - Micah was so sweet and welcoming, it always made him spill whatever he was holding in mind.

He spoke about how Hydra was acting weird, spoke about his fear for the crew's well being, about Athena's lack of awareness about how Jeremy wanted to shove her down the sea and never let her back up again... all the things he could think of, he spoke about. Spoke about his day, about the beach, about the lantern, about Peggy and about another thousand things.

And Micah heard every word, without interrupting his partner. He just stared into Sirius pretty face, making braids in his long hair while listening. After all was over, then it was time for him to speak.

"I understand you. I also feel like things are rough those last couple of months... it's not our fault, you know?" He tried to tell Sirius, but his own words were lacking the confidence to say it. "It's just what happens when people are stuck together for so long."

Sirius nodded, letting himself relax a bit more under Micah's touch.

"I fear it's actually a response to... whate'er Hydra's been going thru, ye know?" He admited.

"How so?"

"Ye know... she's a Family Goddess. Ye remembe' how when Rod's mom was sick and spring was all fucked up 'cuz of tha'? It's like somethin' like tha' is happenin' to us."

"Go on...?" Michael was actually curious to hear Sirius' theory.

"Maybe Hydra's crisis is wha' is givin' fuel to all those fights? Like... I can't explain but we're family and... kind of... she may be messin' with our bonds withou' noticin'" he said, confused at his own words. "Jus' think 'bout it... doesn't tha' make sense?"

"It does." It wasn't Michael who answered, but Jeremy, who was just quietly listening to their talk. He caught both in surprise, waving while making his way to sit at the bed with them. "Sirius has a good point. That may be the cause of the problem."

"Good, it means I'm the smartest of us now?" He smiled at the Captain, who could only laugh.

"Nah, I think that title stays with Micah."

"Thank you, love." The lycanthrope smiled. "Sirius is right, tho. Maybe Hydra really is havin' trouble and accidentaly lettin' it off on us. We should help her..."

"To be honest, she's already helping herself." Sirius said. "Maybe I should ask her to stay with us the Holiday? Maybe I can make her do it..."

"She loves you. Can't see her saying no to this pretty face." Jeremy winked at him, making Sirius blush and giggle under his breath.

"He's right. She'd be a cold heartless wench to say no to you. I could never!" Micah laughed, which make the other blush even harder.

"Oh, dear. I'll never get used to you two."

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

[mortiium]

     𝐰𝐡𝐨  𝐢𝐬  ..  𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝒐'𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚 ? 

tip  of  the  iceberg. 

full  name :   sloane  dierdre  o’malley

age / dob :   twenty - four  /  june  sixth  ( gemini  ass  bitch ) 

gender / pronouns :   cis woman  /  she + her

sexuality :   queer 

species :   human - hunter , empath

dwelling :   locke row ,  spark park

occupation :   clerk at age of vintage 

in  a  word. 

ardent. convincing. headstrong. sharp.  stubborn. loyal to a fault. selectively apathetic. tough. thrill seeking. snarky. prideful. thick - skinned.

strangely laid back. attention starved vs attention disgusted. complex. complains about things before she's even tried them. bit as a child, not really above it now.

scraping your knuckles on the sidewalk, wedging yourself between a rock and a hard place, playing a never ending game of catchup, middle child syndrome, balancing relationships on a thumbtack, you don’t recognize yourself anymore, growing up too fast, your legs were never long enough, broken hairbrushes, diy piercings, rolling down a hill, weightless, flipping a coin and changing your face, wearing shoes that are too big and hand me downs that are too old, kicking up dirt, mud pies 

let’s  talk  about  sloane. 

sloane is the middle o'malley sibling. born just a couple years apart each, sean is her older brother and fia is their younger sister. her parents divorced when she was in elementary school - and things were difficult financially for the family ever since.

sloane's older brother, sean, began work as a hunter almost by accident - picking up odd jobs from the men that used to hang around their father's apartment. with the three siblings living in a cramped trailer in spark park, sean saw it as taking care of his family in a way his alcoholic father wasn't. sloane resents her father to this day for this.

sloane's abilities as an empath were never something she shared, except with her sister fia whom she shared a room with. they scared her, more than anything. the things she sometimes felt she could do. for so long, all sloane knew was a general lingering fear.

that terror would come to a head the night they all lost sean. it was a job gone wrong - the young adult now pushed beyond his limits with no abilities to protect him and no proper training to fall back on. that was the day sloane vowed to pick up where her brother had left off. to never allow anyone to take anything from her again.

so she's a hunter. and .. she's kind of really good at it. there is a rage that lives in sloane that is near primal and never quenched. i mean .. like. she's a girl. so.

doesn't really acknowledge she's an empath because it is unsettling to her. tries really hard to convince herself other people's emotions don't overwhelm her. also always trying to make people laugh and lighten the mood so she's receiving positive feedback. parties a lot when not on a job ( tbh also when on a job ) perhaps because it dulls her senses. perhaps she has a big reckoning coming with that little detail.

besides having a strange and kind of fucked life, she does like to have fun and friends and hobbies, etc. etc. she skateboards and raves. steals things to feel something. etc.

repressed the hell out of everything that has ever gone bad in her life because she's too busy being drained by other people's emotions to feel her own fr fr.

hi  sexy.  yes  ...  u  reading  this  ...  i’m  alli  and  this  is  sloane.  tldr  she’s  really  chaotic and quite frankly a problem.  i love her.