#we know well the company doesn’t like her😭
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Audio Drama Sunday - 22nd December ✨
I have been SO ill this week oh my god, I can’t even express how much hands this virus has 🤧 Thank you to all the shows who have kept me company this week!
🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (178) Olivier!!!! Oh, it is breaking my HEART that his parents essentially pulled him out and dropped him in bloody France with no more power and no way of finding out what happened to the rest of the expedition. He doesn’t even know about Riot 😭 Also, I wish the gang had just been told the truth about that chapel because, my god, if it’s not Marco that goes wandering in there, it’s definitely going to be Hope!! Eek, Cole, man!!! You are not showing that you understand any of the principles that made Clem a good detective!! She had a process and a Shelby and years of practice!! You, sir, are going to fuck this up! We obviously now know for sure that Heather was one of the quartet and I feel like Ignatius is probably one because of the fire. Who knows! The game is still definitely afoot!
🦋 @remnantspod (20) I was warned that this episode would break my heart but did I heed that warning as I listened on my walk through the city centre? No. Did I pay the socially embarrassing price for that hubris? Maybe!! Pushing down the trauma of that remnant leads to some qs from me (please share if you have thoughts!!). We know that Stephen Grenville was just one of many names that the keystone character was using - do we know if the man in this remnant was the ‘original’ one or a ‘fake’ SG? I’m thinking about what he said about Celine’s paintings and her being unable to stop her own style peeking through, I didn’t catch a flash of the Perry/Stephen/Apprentice in this man. I feel like it would add such an interesting layer if the murderer we know about was stealing identities from nasty people. But maybe that's wishful thinking! Does it make the murdering better if there's a good reason?? Idk! No? I might need to dedicate myself to a relisten sometime soon!
🎃 Waiting For October by @monkeymanproductions (2.5) Ah, Poe. I love that there are still people fond enough of him to listen to his story no matter how irritating he is generally! I am definitely not well read enough to catch all of the references to other authors and stories but I found his cawing belligerence amusing all the same!! I’m looking forward to what’s next for Karo and Yvonne!
🎙️WTNV (260 - December Monologues) Such a great time of year. I love hearing from characters we don’t catch up with as much like the Faceless Old Woman. I don’t know what’s about to happen with Steve, but I am buckled in and ready to find out!!
🍾 @ameliapodcast (39) Amelia and Alvina are just on a prison tour at this point! Sometimes there are quotes that you just need to immediately add to the mental bank and “I piss on your mother's grave and wipe my ass with your birth certificate!” is 100% one of them 😂
🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (Q+A part 2) my three take away points from this second part of the Q+A were 1) complete gratitude that Hero and I are on the same page about Scarry (who will most certainly return in late S2 right?). 2) I am soooo intrigued about your vague references to Olí and the Traveller’s relationship in S2 AND 3) Matt, that impression was genuinely horrifying. Thank you.
🌵 @desertskiespodcast (1-4) I have been putting off listening to Desert Skies for too long because I knew it would make me emotional. Until Leon @tellnotalespod very correctly told me that a few tears are so worth it for the rest of the experience of listening to the show. I’m only a few eps in but I absolutely adore the balance of humour and heartache. I’ve literally had these characters for 2 hours and I would already kill for them!!
Have a lovely week, everyone! The days are getting longer and the nights are getting shorter!! 🫶
#audio drama sunday#hfth spoilers#travelling light#wtnv#remnants pod#waiting for october#the amelia project#desert skies
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sometimes I feel bad for talking about mirabel so much then I remember how she used to be so ignored in the fandom people didn’t even know she was the main character
#encanto#encanto disney#disneys encanto#mirabel madrigal#mirabel encanto#people thought bruno was the mc like omfg#I still consider mirabel underrated compared to other madrigals and Disney protags in general actually#we know well the company doesn’t like her😭#anyways I’ll always be a mirabel defender like that’s my daughter#she deserves more!!#I have to edit that analysis and it’s almost ready#mirabel my beloved#disney’s encanto
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we used to have more pt. 4 | oscar piastri, pato o’ward
part 1 part 2 part 3
pairing: oscar piastri x reader, pato o’ward x reader
summary: where a talk in a hotel room and a work trip to mexico make things clear for you
fc: different girls from pinterest
warnings: mentions of toxic relationships
a/n: ahhh sorry it took me a while to post this! but finally here it is the last part of this mini series that i loved creating <3 thank you so so much for supporting it the way you did, all the comments, reblogs and likes meant the world to me while writing it💗
—
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yourusername home sweet home
tagged lissiemackintosh
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username dry ass caption
username girlie is NOT happy to be back
username y/n i know you wanted to stay in america but you can at least act a little bit more excited to be back 😭
username the fact it was sunny all weekend and she posted a pic of the only HOUR of rain is diabolical
declanmurray you can at least pretend
yourusername i’m not contractually obligated to
username pls 😭
username idc she’s down MOTHER IS BACK
oscarpiastri happy you’re back! ❤️
username chat when the guy you’re off and on for years says he’s happy you’re back how to do you react?
username ohhh but we’re having THE fashion icon that is y/n again at the paddock i cannot complain
patriciooward have fun!
yourusername <3333
username pls the way she ignored oscar so severely 😭
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patriciooward can never say no to a side quest
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username NORBIIII 🥰
username every photo was whiplash after whiplash
username incredibly cute and incredibly hot
username don’t push girls
username i am that cookie actually
username i need him in a way that’s concerning for feminism
yourusername boys 🥹
patriciooward miss you!
username no they are my parents
username oscar i was rooting for you but now … i’m not so sure
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yourusername the prodigal son returns home 🇲🇽
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username omg is this a hard launch??? what is this !!!
username patoooo 💖
username the way you can see everything about her posting changed since she arrived in mexico
username is it wrong to assume it’s because she’s with pato again? 😩
username pato and y/n in mexico is everything
username ohhhh oscar reaaaally fumbled this time
username nahhh im being delusional thinking oscar still has an opportunity (pls y/n give him a chance 😩)
username well, at least she’s posting again 🥳
patriciooward ☀️
yourusername ☀️✨✨💫
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f1gossip indycar and mclaren’s reserve driver patricio o’ward was seen last night having dinner and sharing a kiss with f1 community manager y/n y/l/n
it has been rumored for a few years that she was on a relationship on and off with mclaren’s oscar piastri, but it was never confirmed as the driver kept going back to his exgirlfriend
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username not oscar catching strays 😭😭
f1gossip 🤷🏽♀️
username honestly i can’t be mad about this. she deserves someone who makes her happy and pato obviously likes her. they look good together 💗
username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE
username someone check on oscar 😩
username watch him go back to his exgirlfriend after hearing the news 🙄
username genuinely hoping he doesn’t do that otherwise he’s just reinforcing y/n’s decision of moving on
username anddd that relationship CANNOT be healthy, for either of them
username i knew they were together from day one, y’all were just blinded by oscar
username because they’re meant to be 😭😭
username in another life perhaps!
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patriciooward favorite place with the greatest company ❤️
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username ahhh the masters of hard launching i’m so here for this
username THE DRESS
username i don’t know if i wanna be pato or y/n in this situation
username okay don’t rub it in 😭
miguelsossa where’s my photo creds for the second one? 🤨
patriciooward 📷: miguelsossa
miguelsossa thanks it means a lot make sure to pin that comment so everyone can see
username pls why did i thought y/n and pato went out without the whole gang 😭
declanmurray HAH don’t make me laugh
milesbaldwin we do leave them alone sometimes
patriciooward …
lissiemackintosh 😮
username speechless at this
username i’m sure pato is a saint because dealing with y/n’s friends must be a handful 🙏🏽
yourusername beautiful 🤍
patriciooward how’s the weather now? :)
yourusername warm enough, you?
patriciooward clear skies
username STOP THEYRE SO CUTE 🥰
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oscarpiastri happy place ❤️
tagged exgirlfriend
comments for this post have been disabled
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taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory @comicalivy @seasonswinter @no-144444 @lunamelona @saachiep81 @nataliambc @patis643 @softtina @chemiru @obxstiles @eiaaasamantha @youre-on-your-ownkid @wcnorris @hwalllllllelujah @soleilgrec
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri angst#f1 x reader#f1#formula one#formula one x reader#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#op81#smau#oscar piastri smau#f1 smau#formula 1 smau#social media au#mclaren smau#patricio o'ward#pato o'ward#patricio o'wardx reader#pato o'ward x reader#patricio o'ward smau#pato o'ward smau#patricio o'ward x y/n#pato o'ward x y/n#patricio o'ward fanfic#pato o'ward fanfic#patricio o'ward imagine
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Just thinking about how happy I am that we got a more complex, deeper friendship with show!polin. I did enjoy the book, don’t get me wrong. But at the start, book!polin was pretty one sided on Penelope’s part. We know she loves Colin literally from the first page, but Penelope was what feels like an afterthought for Colin. It’s only when he returns from his tour and spends more time with her that he starts seeing her as a friend. He said it himself, they were acquaintances, and only more recently does he consider them being friends. He went from liking her company to Colin “my wife” Bridgerton real quick (this form of Colin exists in both bridgerton universes, thank GOD). Their story feels more like acquaintances to lovers in my opinion.
What makes show!Polin so magical, and I’m sure is the true reason for the choke hold they have on us, is the fact that we got to see their history as childhood friends develop to best friends and then to lovers. We can see the love Pen has for Colin from the start, and while he hasn’t come to his senses yet, he clearly adores her in the beginning as well.
Then we have the letters. My dear, sweet, completely inappropriate letters (only in regard to the lack of propriety). Yet another contrast between show and book Polin. Their letters truly fortify their friendship to the viewer and add even more magic to their story. Penelope is eager to talk to the man she loves and she is elated that he wants to talk to her too. And Colin gets the space to be himself in these letters. Penelope has never once made him feel silly for his rambling about the places he’s visiting while his family doesn’t shy away from brushing him off or chastising him for talking about his travels. He knows that there is at least one person back home that is excited to hear from him. His heartache confusion over not hearing from her on his second tour only solidifies how dear her letters and friendship are to him. Penelope plays such a large part in his life, he spirals when he thinks he lost her friendship. “Is there something wrong, Pen? Between us, I mean” gets me every time 😭.
We see the yearning from Pen for two seasons, see her protect and love Colin in secret, and heartbreakingly see her give up hope that he will ever love her in that way. We also get to see Colin look for her at every social assembly, protect Pen multiple times, and when he FINALLY realizes his feelings aren’t completely platonic, we see his own yearning. This makes the entire journey all the more gratifying for the viewer.
I can’t believe it sometimes that we finally made it. We got our Polin endgame. It’s been a long few years but those years just made the reward all the more incredible. The boost of serotonin I get watching them finally end up together is truly unmatched and hasn’t diminished no matter the amount of rewatches/GIFs/fan edits I see.
It’s been 6 months and not a day has gone by that i haven’t thought about my babies finally getting their happily ever after. I cannot, will not, do not want to give up the choke hold these two have on me.
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This post ran away from me but are we really surprised? Thanks for letting me dump out the contents of my brain, y’all are real ones.
#polin#polin meta#polin ramble#bridgerton#Polin analysis#polin brainrot#never leaving this restaurant#this post got away from me#sorry not sorry#bridgerton show#bridgerton books#polination
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MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 15)
au masterlist
notes: pretty short but i just wanted to get this out so that i can move on and be ready for the next game tomorrow!
y/ndevils00
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y/ndevils00 a solemn hello to you all! welcome back to my postgame recap!
as some of you may have noticed, i took a bit of a break and did not cover the game against the Blues, hawks, or avalanche! as you’re all probably well aware, my beautiful, clumsy ass boyfriend lost an edge during the first of the Blues game which resulted in a shoulder injury. after some serious persuasion from both me and coach woof, who i’m pretty sure just wanted me off the trip in general… how rude, the Devils management graciously allowed me to return back to Jersey with my dumbass (affectionate) to be his in-home nurse!
i did keep up with my real job through watching the games on tv— did you guys know that Nico and Jack scream at the tv a lot during games? no? well now you do! — but i took a minor break from your regularly scheduled recaps in order to focus on my ailing boyfie.
so for the next few weeks, i will be doing any road game recaps from the comfort of my own (Jack and Luke’s) home! with one exception for a game of which i will not be disclosing at this point in time!
tonight your not so mighty Devils lost 2-4 to the D.C. dwellers— so that wasn’t fun to witness!
i spent most of my time this game in the press box with my aforementioned dumbass, my slut, and my new uncle Miller that we acquired during this past summer solstice. (see: slide 4)
this game, we got a goal from Meier Meier pants on fire, and of course, my very own bestie number 1, DAWSON MERCER!!! which makes his 2nd of the season after he got his very first of the season in my missed recap game against the hawks!
i’m so so SO proud of you tonight puppy!! you did so well!! you’re gonna do great things, sweetie!!
dear idiot number 2, you played well tonight and i guess i’m proud of you…. ya know, despite the penalty and the massive L we took… continue shining, supernova!
tagged john.marino97, dougieham, jackhughes, nicohischier, colinmiller1029, lhughes_06, tmeier96
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john.marino97 2 photos… everyone else got 1 penalty photo and you choose TWO of me?
y/ndevils00 excuse me, do i need to take back my last paragraph? because i will if you’re gonna be an ungrateful rat
john.marino97 no, i’m sorry, thank you and i love you
y/ndevils00 that’s what i thought
user28 WE NEED JACK AND NICO BACK 😭
jackhughes can i request another nurse? maybe one that doesn’t call me a dumbass?
y/ndevils00 no <3
y/ndevils00 i call you MY dumbass, and you know it’s all love, my dumbass!
jackhughes so i’m stuck with you, huh?
y/ndevils00 forever and ever and ever and ever 🥰
jackhughes oh fun!
y/ndevils00 i know!
john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 he was being sarcastic
y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 oh, thank you personal sarcasm detector
y/ndevils00 YOU LOVE ME, STOP ACTING TOUGH ON THE INTERNET
colinmiller1029 i know i’m still new to this but, uncle?
dawson1417 any guy over 30 is her uncle, it’s the rules. you can’t question it and you can’t deny it, you just roll with it!
colinmiller1029 @/dawson1417 oh, okay. got it.
colinmiller1029 proud to be an uncle!! you’re pretty fun press box company, niece!
y/ndevils00 oh i love you
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula STEP UP YOUR UNCLE GAME OR HE’S GONNA BE FAVORITE
ehaula keep threatening it, i’m secure in my position and i know you love me
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula i hate you
ehaula sure. so i’ll see you tomorrow for family dinner, right?
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula yeah 🫤 can we watch Monsters Inc after dinner?
ehaula if you’re good and you eat all your food!
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula YES! 💃
jackhughes my girlfriend is a child
user10 how fast did you have to run from the press box to get these pictures?
y/ndevils00 oh so fast
dawson1417 THANK YOU BESTIE NUMBER 3!!! AND THANK YOU FOR MY HEAD PATS
y/ndevils00 you earned those head pats! i hope you enjoyed them!!
dawson1417 i did!!!
john.marino97 @/jackhughes your girlfriend is a child and my best friend is an actual golden retriever
jackhughes @/john.marino97 this is the life we chose
nicohischier stop eating my press box popcorn
y/ndevils00 but i was hungry :(
nicohischier your boyfriend was there? make him get you some!
y/ndevils00 he did! i ate it all!
nicohischier so you decide to eat mine?
y/ndevils00 yeah, now you get it!
nicohischier you are so…
y/ndevils00 beautiful? fun? hilarious?
nicohischier annoying
y/ndevils00 oh :(
nicohischier but i love you?
y/ndevils00 I LOVE YOU TOO WHORE!
tmeier96 no goal picture but a penalty picture?
y/ndevils00 i only have so many spaces, Timothy
tmeier96 ah yes, and the penalty was more important
y/ndevils00 well, yeah. you guys lost, it’s not like that goal mattered much
tmeier96 it goes towards my stats?
y/ndevils00 okay? and your penalty goes towards your PIMs
lhughes_06 you’re not winning this one dude, just save yourself the trouble and give up now
y/ndevils00 @/lhughes_06 see, Lukey gets it!
user63 wait, why won’t she tell us what road game she’s going to?
user95 WHAT ROAD GAME?! PLEASE, I WANNA MEET YOU
#media management au!#media management series <3#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#nj devils#nhl fic#nhl imagine#faithlynn’s insta edits <3#faithlynn’s writings <3
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hii!! can i request how enha would accidentally reveal their relationship with idol!reader?
enhypen accidentally revealing their relationship
pairing : ot7! x reader genre : fan x Idol , fluff 793 words warning : none really
a/n : I have skl next week again so imma try clearing up all my request by Sunday and Monday 😭
> masterlist of my other works
© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.
정원 jungwon + 희 승 heeseung
The ones that will try to keep it professional. But they can’t contain their blushing and they just want to punch themselves in the face. Covering their red face or even their red ears as the interviewer is also shocked by the news. Since the interview was live, everyone than took it to social media immediately to spread love and support to both of you. But he made a big promise on the interview which made everyone melt.
“So jungwon / heeseung who do you love the most in your life.”
“Besides my family, I really love my girlfriend, y/n y/l/n- wait. Omg.Wait.Is this live?”
“STOP WHAT YOUR DATING Y/N..?”
“omg I didn’t mean to reveal it..”
“oh my goodness this just caught me so off guard.”
“everyone is saying stop covering your cute blushing face hahaha!!”
“Guys I didn’t mean to reveal it but please show us lots of support we are trying our best thank you so much.”
“I will take care of my dear y/n so her fans don’t have to worry!”
“Ahh young love these days are so cute wishing you both the best! Let’s move on to another question!”
박종성 Park Jeongseong + 심재윤 Sim Jaeyun +성훈 Sunghoon
The ones that didn’t even realize they said it out loud and also the ones that doesn’t care if they revealed it or not🙃 had to pause and process did they just revealed your relationship to the internet. But they didn’t care and continued to show you off, even pictures of you both on dates and your daily dog walks😭
“so how’s life been for you?”
“Is been so good I’m living with my girlfriend and our dog-”
“wait what your dating? Dating who?”
“y/n y/l/n, is it not- oh shit I’m sorry I didn’t realize. I got too ahead of myself anyways..”
“we have been doing so well. She’s really sweet and recently I got her a promise ring which is the one she’s currently wearing in this picture. And this is her walking our dog. And this is a recent picture we took at her brother’s wedding.��� (Bro was so proud)
“bro just exposed his own relationship before his own company?” The interviewed was like 😦😅
“The company is taking the piss they make me go insane I’ll be so real with you.”
fans was laughing at his comment about the company but also super nice about your relationship and they are glad he found someone to take good care of him.
선우 Sunoo + にしむら りき Nishimura Riki
the clueless ones. The ones that tries to cover up. Saying you are just his celebrity crush but obviously fans knows is not true from the amounts of obvious interaction between you both on Music Award Shows as well as the vlogs. Fans would be shock cuz you both are literally opposite of each other (the sunshine x midnight duo😝). But they are all so happy you guys are together because you fit each other so well. It was just an unexpected duo.
“So who is your celebrity crush?”
“My girlfriend- I mean my crush is y/n y/l/n. Her style and personality is really cute- I’m sorry haha..”
“Oop I guess we know what’s going on right?”
“ah… didn’t mean to reveal that much…” he was now covering his face from embarrassment
“Is okay! Wishing you both the best!”
Comes home and whines how everyone knows now but at least he gets to show you off!!
series taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids @amymyli @in-somnias-world @okjaeminn @nonotwice1 @thinkmyg @blubbfsh
Reblog , comment or dm to be on my perm taglist !
#k labels#k films#k neighborhood#💌 ~~~~ filmofhybe requests#🐰 filmofhybe#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen x oc#enhypen imagines#enhypen smau#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fanfiction#jungwon imagines#jungwon x reader#heeseung x reader#heeseung fluff#heeseung x oc#enhypen jay#park jeongseong x yn#park sunghoon#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon x y/n#kim sunoo x reader#sunoo smau#nishimura riki imagines#niki nishimura#enhypen au#enhypen headcanons#enhypen drabbles
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Will we be getting Sakumo’s pups lore? Like their names, bios & other lil headcanons of them? ☺️
Or will they be small background characters that’ll appear from time to time?
Either way! Thanks for blessing us with the Happy AU where Sakumo’s wife & children help heal him ❤️🩹
It brings me so much joy knowing that Sakumo is alive & happy with a family even if it’s an alternative universe 🥹
Sakumo truly deserves a happily ever after in some universe 😭🖤🖤 I have a little something I shared with some friends (thanks for the names, Nisi!!)
More under the cut because it’s kinda long but not too long ✨
Daichi Hatake
The middle brother is a total cinnamon roll that would give you the shirt of his back if you asked him to.
As a child he was super carefree and a bit unorganized, but seeing the gap between him and Kakashi’s abilities made him buckle down and focus.
As an adult, he is quite accomplished. He is still behind Kakashi’s skill level by a little bit, but he’s no longer bothered by it. He’s very proud of his brother’s achievements
He also prefers to chill with Bull when Kakashi permits it
Hides how picky of an eater he is quite well but he will eat whatever veggie when Kakashi catches him/puts his discreetly tucked away veggies back on his plate
He tends to hang out with the other jonin a lot because he prefers company to solitude
do to having witnessed his parents crying in each others arms after his father’s attempted suicide with Kakashi, he really only shows his vulnerable/sad side to Kakashi. The what if of that situation haunts him when ever he thinks about failing a mission himself and made him worried their father would leave them at some point
Oda Hatake
Oda has always been described as an old soul. He has always been mature for his age with the exception of stealing treats off of his brothers and using “but I’m the youngest” to get out of trouble
It wasn’t easy to be the younger of the three and Sakumo’s son, but he managed. Choosing to aim for a “desk job” Torture and Interrogation Force
He likes to read and will take Kakashi’s books without asking (including Icha Icha). Substituting the books with ones he’d recommend
He’s friendly enough, but genuinely doesn’t trust the “good” in others, so he has some walls to get through to earn his trust
Likes thunder storms and will sit outside in them to “breathe in the static”
Has a fancy pigeon pet with nubs instead feet that he spoils rotten. He uses her to send his parents messages in braille
Can’t take a compliment. Especially not one about his eyes 💀
Somehow manages to arrive even later than Kakashi to family dinners
Is more willing to question Kakashi versus following him blindly (no offense Daichi)
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Imagine: naoya and y/n have been happily married for years, and y/n has Lesley Gore's "You don't own me" as ringtone because it makes naoya so embarrassed, he would be like "love, I have already apologized 🥺"
PS: love your work, you alone are making justice to naoya's character. Your characterization of him is canon in my mind.
Hello!!!
Awww this is 🥺 man I feel so bad for him haha. But it's true, once everything is healed and nice, this man will still feel that he could never make up for his mistakes 😭 you'd be there to reassure him, though :) ❤️
Anyways, I've decided to apply some creative... differences to this. Mainly because I wanted to get really angsty with it mwahahahahahahah (also, it's not noted here, but there are some things that will remind her of those days, so she will avoid anything that might make her remember that. The two are in love, but... it's a difficult path. but trauma always is.)
Also, thank you so much for your lovely words!! I do try my best :') I'm so glad that you liked my characterization!! This man is capable of more... under the right circumstances 🤭
warnings: a bit of angst. naoya is deeply regretful. you're supportive. mentions of abuse (not really, but something bad is implied)
happy reading!
“—this is why I don’t like going out with you. Nothing ever seems to be of your liking!”
“If you have such a bad time with me, then why don’t you leave?!”
“I might as well!”
Naoya was never one to overhear gossip (coming from strangers, that is.). Thought it to be incredibly boring, dull, mundane, especially from civilians. What could they even experience? Their boring 9-5 job? Yeah, no thanks.
Yet, something about this conversation didn’t elude his attention like it used to, and before he knew it, when he was once focused on your voice, he was now nothing but attentive to the hurtful words of the couple nearby.
They weren’t directed at him, obviously, nor did they refer to anything he could take personally…
But the weight of his past makes it impossible for him to look beyond his own guilt, instinctively attaching their words to his own actions. Like he was the one they were discussing.
Naoya knows he was a… less than desirable man at the beginning of this marriage. He doesn’t claim otherwise, he can’t, since there are still many things to make amends for…
Things that he knows he’ll never be able to; for the atrocities he committed to you… they’re unspeakable. Even with the promise he made to spend of the rest of his life making it up to you, one he doesn’t intend to let go.
But… will he ever amount to it? Can he do so?
…
He’d rather die trying, than never at all.
“Another one?” You ask when he suggests going to another store. The two had come on a date at a shopping mall, intending to pick up some things needed for the apartment, alongside enjoying each other’s company; Naoya’s work had been quite demanding as of lately, and he intended to get his dosage of you, enough to cover a whole month. “But I thought you wanted to head back already…?”
“Yes, but then I thought we’d make the best of our visit here before leaving instead. Who knows when we’ll be back?”
“Oh, well… if that’s what you want…” you frown, a bit unsettled by his sudden change, which was only to worsen.
“No! I mean—we can do that too if you want to.” Naoya interjects.
“You’re not making much sense…”
“What I mean to say is that we can do whatever you want.” He scurries to explain. “Just say the word and I’ll do it.”
“I... don’t have anything in mind, really. Going home sounded good.”
“Are you sure? We can go somewhere else too. You know I have no limitations.”
“I think I’m done for the day—”
“Home it is. Would you like the estate, the apartment, or your parents’ house?”
“My parents house?? But that’s—that’s on the other side of the country!” you gasp; and while you’re always appreciative of Naoya’s willingness to go above and beyond, this was actually a bit… excessive—and that’s saying a lot coming from him!
“And?”
“What do you mean and? We can’t just hop on a plane and leave!”
“Of course we can.” He corrected. “We can leave right now if you want.”
“Again with the—Where did this come from?? Is everything alright, Naoya? What’s gotten into you??”
“Nothing! Is it wrong to want to please you, too?” Naoya frets.
“Too?” you repeat. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s—It’s nothing. Just tell me what you—”
“No, it is important. It has to be if it’s affecting you like this!” you cry. “Tell me, Naoya. Please. I thought we agreed we could tell each other everything!”
“It’s nothing you don’t know already.”
“Like what?” you frown. “What do I already know?? You’re not making any sense!”
“That I don’t deserve you!” he condemns. “That I’ve done terrible things to you that I can never erase, no matter how much I try—and that perhaps you’d be infinitely happier with someone else; someone… that isn’t me.”
Even with the large, noisy sounds of the lively mall, silence manages to quickly engulf the two soon after, drowning you in the pain Naoya’s unexpected words gave you, piercing your heart and the hope you’ve placed for the future of this relationship.
One created with the notion that everything bad had been left in the past, ready to move on… only to realize, it wasn’t that easy to do so. Suddenly coming back, in the most unwanted, painful way you could’ve imagined—seemingly unprompted, but equally damaging to Naoya’s sentiments.
“That’s… that’s not true.” You eventually murmur, looking at him, while Naoya’s eyes remain glued to the floor. “None of what you’re saying is true.”
Then why do I keep feeling this way?
“… you don’t… believe that… do you?” You continue, managing to get a glimpse of his face, which reflected nothing but sadness and disbelief towards your words.
“It seems like all I do is hurt you.” Naoya laments. “No matter how much I try, I’ll never be able to escape—"
“Don’t say that—that’s not who you are.” You interject, stepping closer to him. “We’ve come a long way from where we began, you’re not that same man from before.”
“But I keep making the same mistakes, I keep hurting you.”
“It’s not easy to leave behind what you thought normal for all your life—or to accept them as mistakes…” you take his hand. “So, when you do fall back into your old ways, but bounce back right up… It shows you’re trying. It shows you’re regretful and want to do better.”
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“I know.” He lifts your gaze to yours; you place your other hand just above his cheek, giving him a soft smile. “And… I know you don’t do it intentionally. I’ve seen your heart, the pain you went through and how it affected you. But I also saw what you’re capable of, the love you’ve harbored, how you longed to share it, and… how lucky I am to be the one to earn it.”
“…I’m the lucky one.” Naoya leans into your touch. “To have found a wife so compassionate…”
“We’ve both done things we’re… not proud of. But that doesn’t mean we’re eternally bound to them. As long as we’re regretful and strive to do better… it’s all that matters.”
“But when is enough?” Naoya murmurs. “When will I stop feeling like this?”
“I don’t know. There are some things we can’t stop, we simply… learn how to live with them.” You admit. “I wish it was possible.”
He frowns, looking away.
“But I do know one thing, though.”
“…What is it?”
“That I love you. With your faults and virtues—and everything in between. Is what makes you, you, Naoya.” You giggle, he gives you a tight smile. “And I’ll spend my whole life telling you that until you believe it yourself!”
He chuckles; seems that both have made lifelong promises that neither intends to forget anytime soon.
“I love you too.” Naoya professed. “Thank you for everything. You’ve given me so much, probably even more than what I deserved—that I’ll spend my whole life making it up to you.”
“You don’t have to, Naoya. You only deserve more.” You reassure him. “But really, you don’t need to make it up to me! As long as you remember the love we have for each other, and that I’ve long forgiven you, is enough for me.”
At your words, the tears Naoya was trying his best to hold back finally slide down his cheeks, which you quickly wipe away with your thumbs, before giving him a smile and pulling him closer for a peck on the lips.
“Everything is going to be fine.” You promised, he looks back at you. You kiss him again, taking him into your arms and hugging him. “If you don’t mind me asking, however… what happened that made you feel this way? Did I do something?”
Naoya sighs, resting his chin on the top of your head.
“No, never. It was just something stupid, actually. Some people arguing, that’s all.”
“Oh.” You blink, quickly understanding why he’d feel insecure about your relationship; the familiarities were too close for comfort. “That’s… unfortunate.”
“It reminded me of how we used to be… how I’d treat you.”
“That is long gone. We’ve worked past that and now, we’re in a much better place.” You snuggle against him. “Both figuratively and literally.”
“Do you still want to go home?”
“Yeah, all this shopping made me tired. Unless there’s something else you wanted to see?”
“No, I was mostly suggesting things for you. I’ve been feeling tired for a while too, now.”
“We can arrange something else for another day, then. For now, I just want to head back home, lay on the futon, cuddle underneath the covers, and maybe watch a movie… how does that sound?” you grin. “I can even prepare some popcorn, if you’d like!”
He chuckles.
“It sounds wonderful.”
Just like his new life with you. Something he never thought he’d receive, nor deserved, at least in the beginning of his marriage.
Until you proved to him otherwise, showing him that the ways of his clan, those forcefully imposed on him, didn’t determine who he was, who he could become.
That he had much more power over his life, the ultimate decision on what to do remained on him and no one else.
It was to be a difficult path, one promising bumpy roads, which will probably never end if he were to be realistic…
But it’s just as you said. As long as both know, deep inside, that they’re doing their best to overcome these obstacles, as well as remembering that they’re always there for the other, alongside their ever-growing love… nothing else mattered.
It was you and Naoya against the world.
And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
🥺 I believe Naoya will always feel undeserving, even when they have a kid together and whatnot. He comes from a very difficult family, so be prepared to face these kinds of situations when in a relationship with him 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️
omg i can imagine it already, when he's super old, reflecting on his life he had alongside you, his kids, and probably grandchildren too... only then will he finally admit he's happy with the life he had. jfc i'm crying goodbye.
Anyways, I know I deviated a bit from your imagine, but I still hope it was to your liking! the angst between the two is real, but so good too....
As always, thank you so much for sending in this! Take care, and hope to see you soon!!
#ask#naoya zenin#naoya zen'in#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#jjk naoya#naoya zen'in x reader#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk x you#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen
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don’t close your eyes (Matt Murdock x f!reader)
summary || Elektra comes back to town with one goal in mind- to get Matt back. She’d do anything to get him back, even harming his girlfriend.
wc || 1.7k
warnings || angst, mentions of blood, death
a/n || from this request. this is quite different to what I usually upload and I feel a little embarrassed in case it’s not good. it might be a little dark for some people, so I won’t be offended if you skip this one. I was listening to sad music while I wrote the last part, so be warned😭
masterlist + rules
taglist
through your eyes (part 2) ->
You and Matt were having a calm morning, quietly enjoying each other's company as you shared breakfast.
“You okay?” You ask, noticing the way he suddenly tensed up.
“Yeah. I’ll be back in a moment.” Kissing your forehead to excuse himself.
Walking out of the apartment and into the hallway where he found Elektra leaning against the wall, waiting got for his arrival.
“What are you doing here?” He whisper shouts, not wanting you to hear while still being able to convey his disgust to her presence.
“I’m here to get you back Matthew.” She said slowly, stalking forward to stroke his arms.
“You need to go.” He says warningly.
“Not until I have you back Matthew.”
“I won’t ask you again.” Gripping onto her forearms.
“I love how rough you are with me… but that’s beside the point. I want you back.”
“No, I have a girlfriend.” He scoffs while ripping his hands off Elektra’s arms.
“That hurts my heart Matthew, but you must know… if I can’t have you… then you can’t have your little plaything.” She flirtatiously taunts.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grits, growing frustrated with the conversation.
“Hm, well… I’ll kill her.” Pausing to make it seem as though she’s thinking. “Yeah, I will kill her.”
“I don’t believe you.” He spits as he pushes her against the wall.
“My heart Matthew, listen to my heart… you know I never lie.”
He doesn’t reply, but she could tell by his lack of communication that he knew.
“You have until the end of the day to break things with her- oh and make sure to tell her that you love me instead, I want her to hurt.” She smirks. “The longer I have to wait… the more your girlfriend will suffer… so I guess I will see you soon Matthew.” Kissing his cheek before walking away.
All he could do was stand there stunned. Matt knew Elektra was telling the truth and he couldn’t bare the thought of putting you in danger. He knew he had to let you go, he just didn’t want to.
He takes a couple of deep breaths before walking back in, trying to clear his mind.
“Hey? Are you okay?” You ask sounding worried.
“Yeah.” Poking his fork into a potato.
“Matt?” You ask cautiously, sweetly placing your hand over his.
“I’m okay.” Smiling at you disingenuously.
You wanted him to be honest, but you didn’t want to push. You told yourself that he’d come to you when he was ready, so you changed the subject.
“Breakfast was lovely, thank you. What do you want to do today?” Collecting the dishes to put in the sink. “We could stop by that new farmer's market? I think they’ve got some great deals. Or we could get coffee?”
“I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Rubbing the bridge of his nose. Your sweet and nurturing nature made this situation impossibly harder, he adored your pure heart and the thought of breaking it, made him spiral.
“That’s okay, or we can stay here?” You offer, sensing that he might not be in the mood to do too much.
Dropping his head into his hands as he exhaled deeply.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You ask warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I can’t do this.” He sighs.
“Do what?” Slowly pulling your hand away.
“I can’t be with you anymore, I’m sorry…” Dropping his head further into his hands so that they could block his ears, not wanting to hear the way those words destroyed you.
Standing still for what felt like forever, slowly stepping back and into the living room. You didn’t know what to say. Things were going so well, how could he change his mind so quickly? You didn’t want to fight it, it was clear he had made his decision.
“I’ll… uh- um.” You stuttered not knowing how to respond. “Uh- I’ll go get my stuff.” You breathed strenuously, trying not to cry.
He could feel his own heartbreak along with yours, so desperately wanting to reach out and hold you. He knew he couldn’t make this any harder for you, so he stayed away. Listening to every stifled sniffle and every erratic pound of your heart.
Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you leave Matt’s bedroom walking past him and out of the door. You weren’t able to speak right now, too afraid of bursting into tears in front of him. Closing the door behind you.
//
It had been a few weeks since Matt ended things with you, and quite frankly you’ve been a mess. You’ve not been able to do anything recently so your apartment was in a state. You have been racking your brain trying to think of what you did wrong, what was missing or what you could’ve done differently.
You just truly missed him.
Today has been a slow one but you felt like you were finally getting there. You were able to put some things away in the kitchen, doing little jobs to help you feel accomplished. Doing small things to try to make you feel better.
Pulling your hair into a quick ponytail, and throwing on a cardigan to get the mail from downstairs. Shoving your feet into whatever shoes were closest to the door, making your way to collect the months' worth of letters.
Walking back up to your floor you see Matt standing outside your door.
You couldn’t turn around because you knew he heard you. Slowly strolling forward. “Hi.” You greet politely.
“Hello, Angel. Please can we talk?” He pleads, smiling at you promisingly.
“Okay…” Opening the door. “Sorry about the mess.” Scattering around to awkwardly tidy around him.
“I can’t live without you.” He says quietly to the floor.
“Why’s that?”
“I only love you, I didn’t mean what I said... It was Elektra.” Painfully smiling at you.
“What do you mean?” You meekly ask.
“She threatened you, and I couldn’t let that happen… so I had to let you go- but… I just, I can’t live without you.”
“I’m confused.”
“I’m sorry for throwing this all on you. I just needed you to know.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I love you. You’re the only person I love… and I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” You ask, a slight pang of sadness in your tone.
“It was Elektra. I couldn’t stand being around her… she just isn’t you.” Walking towards you, opening his arms to offer a hug.
You didn’t have to think about it, melting into his embrace. Squeezing each other tighter and not wanting to let one another go.
“I’ve missed you.” You mumble into his chest.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Resting his chin on your head while he stroked over your back. “I’m so sorry.”
The door swings open and clatters against the wall. “Where is she?” A female voice shouted.
He spins you both around so that his back was to the woman, holding you in front of him to protect you.
“We had a deal, Matthew.” She taunts, smashing your photo frames and dropping your vases to the floor.
“Elektra, please just stop.” He yells, gripping you tighter.
“I don’t like when people don’t hold up on their part of the deal.” Stalking forward, slashing her dagger into the back of your sofa and tearing it open. “Remember what I said?” She taunts once more, throwing your books and candles against the wall.
“She’s not a part of this… what can I give you instead? Just please don’t hurt her.” Cocooning your head in his arms, trying his hardest to keep you safe.
“I’m afraid not Matthew. I told you what would happen.” Itching closer to you both. Teasingly brushing her fingers along your hands that were gripping at Matt’s back. She yanks on your arm, separating you apart and pushing you to the floor. Straddling your stomach as she edged her sword along your jaw.
Matt immediately dives to push her from you, dragging her along the floor to get her as far away as possible.
“Go.” He shouts over to you, panic and fear riddled in his voice.
Sliding yourself away to pull yourself up, gripping the sides of the coffee table for support.
“You’re quite the fighter sweetheart.” Elektra taunts you, trying to free herself from Matt’s grip.
She slams him back into the wall behind and runs towards you. Picking up her dagger from the floor and burying it deep in your stomach. Twisting it a couple of times before yanking it out.
Matt stood there paralysed before realising what had just happened. Rushing to your side to hold you, helping you down so you didn’t fall.
“No no no, what have you done?” He whispers, putting pressure on the wound. “No no.” His voice breaks. “I’m so sorry.” Holding your neck to support you.
“It's okay.” You say quietly.
“No, it’s not.” A tear falls and lands on your cheek. “Please don’t close your eyes, just wait okay- we’ll get help. Just please hang on.”
“Someone help!” He shouts, trying to get attention from your neighbours. “Please call an ambulance. She’s losing too much blood, please?” He begs Elektra who was sitting on the armchair indifferently reading a magazine.
“I love you. So much.” Reaching your hand up to stroke his cheek.
“Please don’t go, you’re all I have left… hang on just a little more. Help!”
Resting your head on his leg while he placed his other hand on the wound, firmly pressing and trying to stop the excessive bleeding. “Count with me, Angel. One.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Th-“ Your hand dropped from his face.
“No no no, don’t-“ his voice breaks, holding behind your neck as his other hand continued to press onto your stomach. “Please talk to me… We’ll get help, okay?” He reassures you, but he was actually reassuring himself. Leaning over to rest his forehand against yours. “Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me- please? I love you.” Gently shaking your head to keep your eyes open.
He could feel you slip away, tears freely spilling from his eyes and down onto your face. Holding your cheeks with his bloody hands, trying to keep you conscious. Pulling you closer into his lap and holding you tighter.
“No no no no.” He mutters against your skin, hearing your last raspy breath before your eyes flutter shut for the last time.
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock blurb#matt murdock angst#matt murdock x fem!reader#matthew murdock#matthew murdock fanfiction#matthew murdock x reader#marvel fan fiction#matthew murdock x you#daredevil#request#angst prompt
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“Hey, Carrots!
No need to look so offended, I’m not here to cause any trouble, you know~. No favors to ask of either. It’s your special day, isn’t it? It is! So I came by to give you a present.
…Yeah, okay, it’s not really much, but it’s a gift nonetheless. Coupon for a special pop for the birthday girl~. You have a favorite flavor or something? I’ll try making it into a pop for you. A dozen for free! I’m real kind, I know.
Oh, and before I forgot. You know Ashi, don’t you? Poor girl couldn’t make it today, so she asked me to hand you a gift bag in her stead. Proves my trustworthiness, doesn’t it? Heh.
No need to worry, I didn’t peek at it… Hold some higher standards for me, would you?”
Niko hands over the bag. It’s a cute, pink, petite bag with cat decorations on it. It holds some resemblance to the feline holding it herself.
Grabbing what’s inside, there’s a little drawing with a note attached. It’s written with words and symbols that seem impossible to verbalize, but somehow it’s easy to imagine a certain brunette bringing life to them…
Clochey! HBD fam!~ Super bummed I couldn’t make it, but I hope this prezzie has enough of my energy baked into it that it feels like I’m there! LMK ASAP ☆
I wanted to send you a cute lil’ message ‘cuz I’m real thankful for us being friends, YK? Even tho we aren’t super buddy buddy, I still totally enjoy your company. Eppy tells me enough about you that it basically feels like I’m hanging with you myself!
Anyway~ I wanted to gift smth more personalized for you, so I drew up a little drawing! It’s kinda like a postcard, but I tried putting one of your fave things on it ♡ I hope you enjoy!~
We should SO get talkin’ again soonsies! Wishin you a happy birthday and many more with a certain huntsman <3
Sincerely, Ashi ♪
Cloche hears a chuckle after she’s done reading the note.
“Wow, Carrots, your face is a little red… Wonder what Ashi stirred up for you to get you, the cold clawed kitty to get lookin’ like that. Well, privacy is privacy. Guess that’s my cue to leave.
Here’s hoping you catch a break from all the trouble around campus, hm? Enjoy your day~.”
HAPPY BDAY CHRIS!!!!!!! I HOPE YOUR DAY AND WEEK AND TBH MONTH IS SO BANGER. ITS SO DESERVED!!!!!!! 🫶 it’s been SO nice being your moot for like?? WHAT??? TWO YEARS OR SMTH??? TIME IS SO CRAZY. it’s been such a treat being able to interact n talk w you since the beginning!!! I GET SUPER HAPPY WHENEVER I SEE YOU IN MY NOTIFS <333 HBD again and I hope life treats you well!!!!! 🙏 blessing your pulls and turning them into pomepulls……….. tehepero
[Cloche’ Birthday Bash] *them referring to our dear freshmen
Okay first of all… ASHIIIIIII YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME I SWEAR !!! THE FACT THAT YOU SENT THIS SO EARLY??!?! THE INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING! I JUST LOVE HOW THIS PLAYS OUT SO NATURALLY- Fr, Niko just waltzing into Ramshackle then dipping- aND THE GORGEOUS GORGEOUS ROOKLOCHE ART- LITERALLY SCREAMING OVER THE POSE AND DETAILS- YOU SERIOUSLY OUT DID YOURSELF FOR THIS ONE! Rook carrying her and Cloche grabbing on to him to get closer- SAVANACLAW ROOK MY BELOVED- Muscle man frrrr- Ashi really caught on to the cat maid’s staring during Chapter 7 huh. AND THE DOODLES ON RHE SIDES ARE TOO CUTE- 😩
Epel yapping on about Cloche and totally not suspiciously asking Ashi about her roommate- Ashi internally sweating bullets when Epel doesn’t realize that everything he describes is the cat maid making up excuses to avoid him-
Also take this… Cloche walking up to Niko days later and asking for a bone marrow pop, and it takes Niko a few seconds to realize it was a joke 😭😭 Slow burn friendship trust-
Really, it’s so wild that it’s been 2 years- So glad to have you here and to celebrate with you again !! I think you really blessed my pome pulls with this one- seriously- man came on the 30th pull twice- Ilyyyyy If makes me super happy to see you in my notifs as well and may we continue to interact in the future!
#crying sobbing thank you#cloche’ birthday bash 🎊#oc: cloche🎊#mutuals 🎊#rookloche#cat scratches 🌸#niko cimarron#ashi tamadai#twisted wonderland#twst#twst oc#twst ocs#others ocs#twst yuu#twst yuusona#oc interactions#mutuals art
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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter II : Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC
Content Warnings: Angst, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (there are no condoms in the apocalypse, only vibes), oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, brief non-graphic descriptions of medical procedures / illness, brief discussion of avoiding meals (no reference to any sort of ED), stupid! Joel ™️
Summary: Joel gets a little stupid and a little jealous.
Rating: Explicit 18+
A/N: I wanted to mention that that I've altered the timeline a smidge to benefit my own whims. So the Joel we find here is about 50-51 and our reader is in her mid to late 20's (cw: age gap 🤓) Everything else in the timeline is the same up until Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.
Another thing, I hella make shit up in this chapter. I talk about a surgical device and there’s discussions of like mechanical/electrical engineering? which I know fuck all about. So if it reads as nonsense I sincerely apologize. There’s a fair bit of character/world building in this ch. so I hope you all can bear with me for a smidge. There is the gift of porn at the end though >:)
Chapter title is from Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red (my favorite book in the whole world which everyone should read). Art is Intimacy by Angelica Alzona
Word count: a whopping 9.6k (I'm so sorry 😭)
Read on AO3
CHAPTER II: Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company
What it looked like?
Like fucking the forest for once birdless, beastless.
Like measuring the distance between all that’s lost
and everything else that, even now, waved at
hard enough sometimes,
will sometimes wave back.
But it felt like swallowing the sea–
being forced to, ships and all.
Then a silence as vast as it was particular.
The like holding a mirror up to Apollo
and expecting his face there, when Apollo’s always been
faceless, obviously, being a god.
And the hand still holding the mirror up anyway.
And the face not showing.
-Carl Phillips, Star Map with Action Figures
“I mean, yeah, I’d fuckin’ like to think so. I’m not sure. She told me –”
“Ellie, you’re overthinking the hell out of it.”
“I am not,” she grumbles.
“You’re a dumbass,” you deadpan.
That riles her up. “Me?! You!”
“What’ve I done? It’s pretty obvious what’s happening here – Dina wants you to ask her out – you’re too chicken shit to step up.”
“Okay, genius. Y’don’t know what you’re talking about, first of all.” The sass on this girl, honestly. The two of you sit together at the picnic tables that’d been set out in the town center for the monthly barbecue. “You think you’re so damn smart. Well lemme just ask you this, what’s going on with Joel? You two’ve been weird as fuck lately.” That shuts you up quick.
“Don’t even start with that. The answer is nothing.”
She gives you that knowing look of hers, but let’s it go. Silently says: I know this hurts, so I won’t push. Out loud: “You started it, motherfucker.” You yank on her bangs, and she swats you away. “Maybe I should call you a fatherfucker instead,” she cackles.
“Oh my god, I actually hate you.” You try and swat her back, yank on her bangs again.
“What’re you two schemin’ about?” Joel’s voice comes from behind you.
“Speak’a the devil,” she says under her breath, starting to gather up her empty plate.“Nothing–” She shoots up, and brushes past, “Gotta go. We’ll talk later,” not even sparing him a glance. You look between the two of them wishing there was anything you could do to help them bridge this cold distance between them. She turns before walking off, gives you the finger behind his back.
“Ellie, hold on a sec,” you call after her, but she’s off.
“It’s fine,” Joel says. “Leave it.”
“I’m sorry,” shielding your eyes from the bright sun, you look up into his serious face.
He shakes his head. “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” And that stings. Off-handedly as it’s said, it stings that he thinks their rift doesn’t affect you, make you hurt for the two of them.
How could he ever think that after everything he’d told you about Sarah – a night that’d made you feel closer to him than ever before, while you two lay in bed, still damp and trembling – that you’d not worry about his relationship now with Ellie? Who you knew he loved like a daughter, even if he was incapable of saying it out loud. How could he think it had nothing to do with you now? After what he’d told you about himself in the aftermath of Sarah. That moment, his confession, could sustain you for a lifetime of this push and pull if necessary. With trust like that, what else mattered? Very little, you thought.
“You get everything done you needed to?” he threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, and bends to press a soft kiss to your temple.
You sigh, basking in this small tenderness he offers you after his casual hurt. “Yeah, we finished.” Sometimes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you, taking all this in stride. Luxuriating in his offerings of tenderness and vulnerability one second, swallowing the way he casually brushes you off another. Surely there must be something wrong with you. Especially because, when it comes down to it, you don’t really care as much as you think you should .
“How’d it go?” You’d had to debride some areas from Mr. Schwartz’s diabetic foot this morning – super fun for the both of you . The foot was famous in Jackson. A great source of shrieks and giggles when the old man decided to pull it out in front of the kids as his so-called ‘party trick’. We all gotta bring something fun to the table, honey, he’d tell you when you tried to put on your false tone of admonishment with him.
“Long – I had to take more than I’d initially thought I’d need to.”
“He alright?”
“Resting now… Just means it’ll be harder for him later on – take longer to recover, as best he can, in any case. And ideally, what he really needs is a boot – which we have – one… but it’s not in great condition. I don’t even know if it’ll fit him – or a wheelchair, and both of them are being used right now. So, seems my only other option is to order him into bed until I can figure something else out. And of course Connie’s all, this is on you, honey. I trust your judgment, honey. ” You deepen your tone and scrunch your brow trying to inflect Connie’s baritone. “As if that’s helpful.”
He grips your chin, forcing you to take a breath, brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes flutter shut, pressing a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb. He hums a little, and you catch the flare of heat in his eyes. “You’ll worry yourself half to death, little bird. Take a breath.” You huff a small laugh. He was right about that, worry was heavy on your mind recently. About lots of different things.
“I fixed you a plate,” you divert.
“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. Thank you.” He swings his long leg over the bench to sit astride it, legs open to pull you between his thighs.
“S’alright. I was getting Connie’s anyway.” He digs in, and you card your fingers through his thick hair – overly long now, it brushes the collar of his shirt in the back, you’ll need to cut it for him soon – and watch the thick column of his throat ripple as he swallows. You press your thighs together – the sun is so strong today. You think it might be making you a little delirious.
“You’re not eating.” It isn’t a question, posed more like an admonishment, paired with the severe crook of his brow.
“Nah, I’m alright. Can’t have anything just yet after staring at that foot all morning,” you joke.
“You telling me you’re not as entertained by it as the kids are?”
You roll your eyes at him. “Shocking, I know.”
He turns to give you an assessing glance now, “You sure you’re alright?”
“Just tired.” You lay your head in the cool, dark crook of his neck, breathe him in. “Birdie …” voice laced with concern – he tries to gently tug you back by your ponytail, but you burrow in further – press your lips to the pulsing vein in his neck. “I’m fine, Joel. Just tired, really.” He huffs. Grouchy man.
“Hi, honey,” Connie shuffles up to the table. “Joel–” he nods, “You two alright ? That go a long time with Mr. Shwartz?” he asks.
You’re grateful for the distraction from Joel’s fifth degree. “It was fine. Our handy dandy Bovie is so good.” You’d done your best recently to fashion an electrocautery device, like the ones they’d used before in surgery. The two of you had gathered the different parts over time and much voracious scavenging, to put the system together. “You’ve gotta try it next. We should be real proud of that.”
“You should be proud. You’ve got a nice mechanical mind in you, as well. You know, Joel, the body is just a machine of flesh and blood.” Connie turns his blue eyes, gone slightly milky now, on Joel, ready to impart his slice of wisdom – part lecture, part proud tirade for your benefit, as the younger man continues to work through his plate of barbecue. “She looks at the two the same way; it’s very impressive.”
Joel finishes chewing: “Our girl is nothin’ if not impressive,” he says, giving you an impish little smirk. You pinch the inside of his thigh over the thick denim, not imparting nearly enough punishment as you’d like to.
“Shut up,” you grouch at him. “Anyways, the lines were pretty sharp, the cauterization clean. A bit slow, though. I felt a bit held back – but not too bad, considering.”
“Considering…” Connie muses. He starts to eat as well, and the sight of the slick, sauce covered meat is slightly revolting. The sun is way too hot with the change of season into fall just on the cusp, and after staring at poor Mr. Schwartz’s mangled foot all day… “I’m thinking with a little more juice it’ll be perfect. We just have to find a way to feed it more power without frying the whole system.”
“Yes… it’s delicate,” he says slowly.”You should ask Noah for advice.” Joel is silent beside you, but you feel the tensing of his thigh beneath your palm at the mention of Noah’s name. “He’s always been very keen to help us in any way we need.”
“Oh, has he?” Joel drawls, in that monotone he loves to use when cutting people down. He can’t fucking stand Noah; it’s quite funny to you, actually. You nudge his knee with your own, still cradled between his spread legs, and drag your nails slowly up and down his thigh, only responding with a non-committal hum. He shifts his jaw in that way he’s wont to do when he’s especially aggravated, cocks his eyebrow at you. You give him a tiny little mocking tilt of your head. You’re sure he can see the laughter at his expense in your eyes.
“Yes,” Connie continues, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on between the two of you, “He’s very adept at anything electrical or mechanical. Although, you are, as well, Joel. Perhaps you could advise us too. Any help would be greatly appreciated.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I can take a look. Offer what I can.”
You change the subject: “Teddy’s been in again this week.” One of the single mother’s in Jackson, Susanna’s son, Teddy, had been continuously ill the past few months. Coming down with different, seemingly unrelated afflictions on and off. His mother was beside herself with worry, and you and Connie were reaching your limits on what you could do to help him. Much less actually provide a clear answer as to a diagnosis.
“Yes, I spoke to his mother last night. Some sort of ague again, undoubtedly.”
You roll your eyes at him affectionately. Connie loved to condemn undiagnosable patients with ‘the ague’. “Connie, the ague is absolutely not a valid form of diagnosis,” you laugh. That launches him into a tirade about the conundrum the boys posed to the both of you these past few weeks. And ague is a perfectly valid explanation, honey. Neither of you are certain what’s causing his bouts of illness. Though you’re reluctantly leaning towards something that won’t pose anything good for any of you; you’re trying to remain optimistic, but the uncertainty is taking a toll on the both of you, as well as his mother.
As Connie goes on, there’s a hazy buzz rumbling around in your brain. Your temples throb, and you press the tender spot into the hard mass of Joel’s shoulder. He’s finished eating now, and you nuzzle into him, breathe in the warm scent of his skin and sweat, grip the hard swell of his bicep – the thick muscle has the most inappropriate arousal pooling low in your belly, but your stomach churns at the same time, and the sun is so damn bright. Too many opposing sensations going on within you all at once, you’re sure you’re on the verge of sun poisoning – dramatic – and it’s making you needy. Infecting you with ideas of crawling into his lap and having him cradle you. He stiffens beneath your attentions suddenly. The soothing large palm he’d been dragging up and down your spine goes still, pausing with his fingertips tucked just below the waistband of your jeans – as if he’s just now realizing how openly affectionate the two of you are being – his muscles go rigid at your display, and then that’s it. He’s pulling away.
Your gut twists again, your head is really spinning now – you straighten in your seat, scoot back and out of the cradle of his thighs, as far as the bench allows you. Always fucking pulling away. He’s stiff and uncomfortable, but at your retreat he clicks his tongue at you, frowns a little, and you want to snap at his subtle admonishment – you started it, what are you frowning at me for?
Connie is still going on about Teddy. “You sure you’re alright, dear?” he interrupts himself. “You look a bit peaky.”
“I’m fine.” You stand abruptly, “I’ve got to head back, actually.” Joel turns to reach for you, but you step back and away from his fingers. The heat is definitely making you grouchy, sick; you’re not acting yourself. “I promised Mr. Schwartz I’d be back to check on him within the hour.” You don’t want to look at Joel anymore – you’re used to his sudden bouts of tension – discomfort – but something is setting you on edge today.
“You should eat something before you go, honey,” Connie says – looking up at you with concern.
“I had something before I came. I’m okay.” You turn to look at Joel now, as the lie passes your lips, a provocation held in your eyes and tone.
He frowns, “You said –”
“I’ll see you two later.”
“Birdie –” But you’ve turned from him before he can continue, walking away quickly. Your head is spinning, gut cramping and turning over on itself. The sun feels like it’s two feet away from you, bearing down on the crown of your head, and you know you’re about to be sick. Always fucking pulling away, always. It embarrasses you a little that you still chafe at it, the back of your eyes pinching and saliva pooling heavy on your tongue. You know the way he is.
You make it back to the clinic just in time to vomit behind the bushes on the side of the house.
Jesus.
-
Susanna brings Teddy into the clinic late in the evening. You’ve just finished writing up your operative note for the ‘famous foot’ (Mr. Schwartz’s words, not yours) when she flies in, frantic, with the listless child in her arms. She tells you he’d been lethargic and without an appetite all day, but she’d chalked it up to fatigue and melancholy from being ill and bedridden so often, recently. His fever had crept up out of nowhere, and now Teddy was almost unconscious, burning hot and delirious – words slurring, eyes glassy.
It’d been hours since then. Teddy was now resting quietly with cool compresses and ice bags tucked under his arms and against his neck which seemed to be helping. Susanna had retired to the back of the house to rest for a bit, and you now sat between Mr. Schwartz and the boy, quietly reading over a text both you and Connie had already gone over multiple times – hoping to find anything that’d inspire an explanation. Most concerningly of all, you’d noticed a smattering of purple-yellowish, sickly looking bruises along Teddy’s spine. It pushed you in the direction your mind had previously taken concerning what could potentially be the cause of all of this. And even though it was the first you’d seen of any bruising on him, it didn’t reassure you at all.
-
“Joel’s here,” Nancy, the nurse that worked with you and Connie, says quietly from the doorway. You stand from your bedside vigil, sighing. It’s late, and you don’t want to do this now. A little embarrassed from your earlier fit. A lot tired from the long day and throwing up and the heat.
“Can you come out and get me in two minutes, please? Interrupt us.”
She gives you an assessing look. “Sure.”
You walk out to the office to find him leaning against your cluttered desk, bulging arms crossed against his chest, straining the sleeves of his button down. There’s a far off look in his eyes, scowl marring his brow, but when he looks up at you all the tightness in his countenance seems to melt away at the sight of you. “You alright?” His gaze is assessing – sweeping up and down your frame, taking everything in like always. The man sees entirely too much.
“I’m fine. I need to stay here tonight, though.” You jerk your thumb back towards the exam room. “They need me.”
“You said you were tired.”
“It passed – just the sun.” He looks at you like he doesn’t really believe you.
“About earlier—”
“It’s fine, Joel.” You feel too tired, too strung out, to give him an out by pretending to ignore that he’d hurt you, pissed you off. Let it be what it was – you had a sick child to care for – couldn’t think about all the distance that would seemingly exist forever between the two of you, not right now, at least.
“You lied about eating.”
Oh, now he wanted to be fucking honest. You roll your eyes at him, watch his jaw clench. “What?” Tone bratty and antagonistic, “No I didn’t – you misunderstood.”
“You told me you didn’t want to eat, and then you told Connie, not fifteen minutes later, that you’d already eaten.”
“Well then I misspoke – that’s not what I meant.” You turn away from him towards the desk, busy your hands with the papers littered across its surface to avoid his eyes. You feel like fighting – like baring your teeth at him, and you hate it. You don’t want to fight with him, ever. You want, need, things to be okay between the two of you. “Why are we arguing about this? I have to get back.” The bite in your voice startles you for a second, and your hands pause their shuffling. Turning back to face him, wide eyed and shocked at the way you practically spit the words at him, but, fuck it, you decide to just go with it.
He doesn’t let you, though – doesn’t take your bait. You watch the muscle in his jaw feather rapidly as he grinds his teeth, fists curled into knots at his sides like he’s trying to restrain himself from throttling you – and you think you’d kind of like him to do it. You’ve gotta be PMSing or something because where is all this sudden desire for violence coming from? You definitely need to sleep soon.
He exhales a slow breath through his nose. “Not try’na argue, baby… just figure out what’s wrong.” Your heart twists painfully, the back of your eyes pinching and hot, and you will not cry right now. His words make you even more angry because if he cares so much about such seemingly small things like this, why can’t he just let everything else fall into place between you as well?
Nancy pops her head through the open door, calling your name, “Need you when you’ve got a second.”
“Be right there, Nance.” You throw her a grateful look.
Turning back to Joel you rub your forehead, trying to press the ache that’s taking root in your brain out with your fingertips. “Nothing… nothing’s wrong. I’m just…” you sigh, suddenly very sad, very tired. You take in his weathered face, his brow pulled down into a scowl anyone who knew him less would take for anger, but you see it for what it is: concern, discomfort, frustration at the tension that’s held constant between the two of you all day. The both of you pulling away and then yanking each other back. You can see he wants to move past this, avoid whatever fight is brewing – too much for him to handle. You know he hates it when you’re angry and annoyed with him, and doesn’t that have to mean something? Please, please it must mean something more. But you’re too tired for this now, your body overwrought from its brief bout of sickness earlier, from your long day. You’d like to go to bed with him and not wake up for a year. Lay on his chest and feel the movement of his breathing rock you to sleep, count the spaces between his ribs, make a home for yourself within them. A great jealousy for his heart, the organ itself, writhes in you, that it gets to live inside him. You’re feeling melancholy and exhausted and overly emotional . Sad that even when he’s the source of your turmoil, your hurt, he’s still the only one you want to go to for comfort. You clear your throat, “I’m fine, Joel. Really.” You try and give him a small smile. “I was in a mood earlier, but I’m okay now.”
“I need us to be okay, Birdie. I– I know…” he looks away, hisses through his teeth in frustration. “I know I don’t always act like it, but–”
You hold up a hand to stop him. You don’t want to, can’t, listen to him try and make excuses. Explain to you things you’ve always understood about what this thing is between the two of you. “We don’t need to do this. I promise everything’s fine. I need to get back.” You step forward to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, to appease the both of you, but also if only because you can’t help but touch him when he’s near, hands snaking up his belly and chest to fist in the collar of his shirt. He hums low in his throat and grips the back of your neck, other hand low on your back to press you to him, and everything inside you goes liquid hot and wanting, just at the feel of him, the scent of him.
“Try and rest.” He breathes you in at the crown of your head, and you nod against his chest.
“I will. Don’t worry.” But you know he’ll do that anyways, and that alone is a comfort.
-
Connie meanders in about midnight, nocturnal creature that he is, to check on you all. You’d pulled the armchair from the office into the corner of the infirmary while you read in the corner. An all night vigil wasn’t exactly necessary – Teddy’s fever had broken about an hour ago, his vitals were stable, and Mr. Schwartz had been snoring the night away for hours. Nancy lived on the second floor of the house, and was always near and available if necessary, but you were peaceful here. Tucked away in your corner with your book and a throw draped over your folded knees. The anxiety you’d carried heavy in your belly all day had dissipated. Thoughts of Joel settled now, compared to the frenzied hysterical swarm they’d been all day. Sometimes this need for him scared you. That your mood, your physical self, could so easily be altered by him, by his own mood, his words, his touch. The tether he held you by was so strong, it felt unbreakable, permanent. It scared you to think what would become of you if one day he decided to break it.
Connie passes a hand over the boy’s forehead, murmuring to himself as he examines him, pops his stethoscope in to take a listen. His movements are slow and practiced, methodical. You’d always loved watching him work. You’ve passed so far into the realms of exhaustion, you’re a little delirious now, your mind and vision hazy, and you rest your head against the wingback and watch. “He’s settled now. Vitals are steady.” You hum in agreement.
He turns to look at you then, his gaze contemplative as he takes a seat on the bench along the end of the bed directly in front of you. His tired groan makes you smile a little, old man. The fondness for him squeezes your heart. He has something to say, you can tell. “I know your father was an exacting man,” he starts. You nod, still quiet. You know that now is a time for listening. “I think of him often. I know I never met him, but he wanders into my mind quite frequently. I think of the things you’ve told me about him, about your mother and sister–” When you’d first become close, it’d been hard for you to speak of your family, of Beth and her death, but eventually you’d forced yourself to. For no other reason than that the thought of you being the only person left in the world that remembered their names, that knew their stories, wrought a grief in you so profound, it was impossible to keep it all inside. You were scared if you didn’t share, if you carried all that alone, you’d lose yourself in their memories forever. “I think that after all that, after living their deaths in such a gruesome way, it could have been very easy for you to lose yourself in all that. Do you agree?” Another small tilt of your chin. The precision with which he’d always read you, understood you, was the greatest comfort in the world. That sometimes it wasn’t even necessary to tell him out loud what it was you were feeling or needed for him to pick up on it.
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” you finally say.
“No…” his eyes take on the thoughtful look he gets, the one that makes you wish you could read his mind sometimes, read the wonderings of that brilliant mind like one of your textbooks. “Instead, you became a splendid and thoughtful physician. A seemingly impossible thing, no? Now, with the state of the world for you to have pieced together a vocation such as this…” his milky blue eyes glint with humor, pride, “Well, it’s all very impressive, my dear.”
“Thank you,” you acknowledge.
“And even more impressive, considering the fact, that had you been given a choice in the matter, you would never have chosen this for yourself… had the world been different, normal.” And there it is again, that keen sense of knowing.
“Yes.” There is nothing more to say. It is, after all, your most painful, most honest, most shameful truth. Painful, not in the sense that you carried any regret now, when you cared for your patients, when you put the knowledge your father and Connie had given you into practice. But painful in the sense that it chafed at your skin, that desire for other . That small seed that had the great potential of growth within you, to spread like ivy around a house, and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until all you were left with were thoughts of what could have been.
“But like I said… your father was an exacting man, and this is what he chose for you. And then, perhaps, even I played a part in that same theft of choice from you.” You try to interrupt him then, to vehemently deny it, but he continues unheeded. “You got here and you seemed to be a sort of benediction to me. A vessel for all the knowledge I could impart on you. A shepherd I could leave this flock to.” He slips his glasses off the bridge of his nose and wipes them slowly with the hem of his sweater. “I know you’ll take good care of them when I’m no longer here. That they could not have ended up in better, more caring hands.” You hate when he talks about his dying, fills you with a premonitory dread you don’t know how you’ll cope with when it becomes actuality. “But alas, you did what was set upon you, took it all in stride.” He pauses, as if contemplating what he’s about to say next, and you know the point of all this has arrived. You even know where it is he’s going with this.
“I say all this, my dear, not to dredge up old painful memories, or reminders of what could have been… But because I would not like to see your choices taken from you once again.” And there it is. He levels his gaze at you, quiet for several moments, and it’s like he is here in the room with you now, his presence, his unsaid name heavy and poignant.
“Joel’s a good man, honey, but he’s a hurt man. Hurt in a way I don’t think even you could cure.”
Your instinct to defend him is immediate. “He’s not— he’s not a hurt man.” You shake your head, brow furrowed, “He’s been hurt before, but it doesn’t define him, Connie. It’s not the sole contributor to who he is.” And that’s true, you know it is. Believe it to your very core. You, who knows Joel better than few others, you know the pains of his past don’t define him. Perhaps before, they did. A pain so acute it molded him into a creature focused only on survival, or perhaps, he let it get the better of him at times. But he is so much more than all that. Has the strength and the will to set it aside when he so chooses to. Ellie being the perfect example of that.
Choices, choices, those were the things that defined a person.
“Isn’t it? You can’t live off the potential you see in someone forever.”
“I hate it when you say that.” You sit up, let your feet drop to the floor, and lean forward to stress your point. “What are we all, if not vessels of untapped potential? We’re all just walking around with the possibility of something more inside of us. Of course, of course I value the potential I see in him! I know he has the possibility of so, so much inside of him – that’s what makes me… That’s why I –” You cut yourself off before you can make that confession, a choked sound leaving your throat. You look out the nearby window at the dark street, press your thumb hard into the center of your forehead, will the tension and frustration out of the skin and bone.
“I know… I know,” he says gently, offering you his hands, palms up – a sign of concession. “But it’s not enough to hang all your hopes and dreams on just that. I want more for you than just that . I want you to have choices. To be able to have what you truly want, what you truly need. I would not like to know that something unfulfilling has been forced upon you once again by the circumstances of this world.” And he says it so sadly, with a look of such tenderness in his eyes, it makes embarrassment burn hot and red in your cheeks. The back of your eyes pinch. What must they all think of me when they see us together? The part that perhaps does, or should, make you the most embarrassed, is that you don’t really care at all. Not in any substantial way that would make a real difference, make you act differently. “I’m not unfulfilled, Connie. I love what we do here,” you say softly.
“I know that, I know. But still…I just–”
You rest your aching head in your cupped palms, bent elbows propped on your knees. You’re so fucking tired. “Connie, please, I know…” you whisper. “Just, please, no more tonight… I’m exhausted. You can tell me all this another time – tomorrow. Just no more tonight.”
“Alright, alright, dear. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you grief.” He stands, comes towards you to rest a gentle palm on your shoulder.
“I know… and you’re not… It’s me.”
“I only want good things for you, darling girl.” You press your hand over his on your shoulder, give a short nod.
“Go home – you need rest. Nancy will stay with them.”
“I can sit for a few more hours. Teddy likes to know I’m here.”
“No, no,” his voice takes on that stern fatherly tone he likes to whip you into shape with sometimes. “Enough for tonight. They’ll both be fine. You’ll see them tomorrow.”
You scrunch your nose at him, “Bossy.” But you stand to go, draping the blanket over the back of the chair. He pulls you in for a hug then, envelops you in the comfort and steadiness he’s always offered you, from the very start. He always smells faintly of peppermint and mothballs and old paper. “It’ll all work itself out, my dear. You’ll find a way. You always do. I’m not worried about that.”
-
Joel watches you leave the clinic from his spot in the shadows across the road. He’s been posted here, obstinate and pissed off with himself, for hours. Especially because he’s certain this must be a new low for him, sulking in the dark, watching for you like a creep. But he just wanted to be close to you. He knows you lied to put him off earlier. Your conversation had left him unsatisfied, restless. He knows you’re pulling away because he’s pulling away. Because he’s putting you off, and he tells himself he’ll give you space, tells himself that’s what’s best, but knows it’s a lie as he thinks it.
The thing is, despite his obstinance, Joel was not a man who lacked self awareness. He was, in fact, very good at recognizing a thing within himself, and yet still able to make a conscious decision to feign ignorance towards it to the outside world. This set up worked well for him – sometimes … on occasion… But this was different, and he knew it. Feigning ignorance would not work between the two of you for much longer. You were getting tired and sad and frustrated with him and he could see it and hated himself for being the cause of it. And if he was being honest with himself, which in this moment, he was trying to be, he was getting tired of it too, tired of himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this position with a woman. On the verge of … something. Something he couldn’t confess, even to himself, yet. But to allow himself that, to allow himself the simple act of even admitting what he knew was the truth of his feelings for you – there was a part of him, a very broken part that had not been used in a long, long time, that couldn’t even imagine it. To allow himself that sort of vulnerability. To allow himself the truth of there existing another person in this world, in what this world had become, a partner – a woman he cared for, needed . It was too vulnerable, too precious a thing to allow himself. Perhaps before, perhaps in a world not overrun by death and disease and violence – by loss.
But what did that even look like anymore? A world bereft of monstrousness? Wiped clean of the beasts that had overtaken it, human or infected. Could Joel even remember such a thing – even imagine it, if only in his dreams? He couldn’t even discern which of the two was worse anymore. Part of him knew it didn’t really matter. Not in the end. It was all conjecture when it came down to losing your life – losing the person you loved. Whether it was fungus or a bullet – dead was dead.
Sometimes he didn't even feel like a person anymore. Just this thing that existed at the periphery of the world. In the moments when he pushed you away, when he turned from the loving look in your face, forced himself to brush off your words and your affection, to hold you at arms length – to protect the vulnerable, scarred mass of his heart – those were the moments in which he was most like a creature, least like a man.
He thought of a world where he felt safe enough to go to the woman he loved, his Birdie, hold you in his arms and say: here is everything I have for you, I’m begging you, please take it .
Such a world didn’t exist in Joel’s mind. Couldn’t fit. He’d been stripped of the ability. To have something so vulnerable and new. A type of fragile he’d not held since his twelve year old daughter lay bleeding and broken in his arms, and have the ability to say I am strong enough to endure the possible loss of this. I need you this badly. So badly I am willing to risk even my own heart.
It looked like trying to swallow the sea.
He follows you home in the darkness.
-
“You get that fixed alright?” Joel’s voice barks from the mouth of the garage. You startle, your knee slamming into the underside of the workbench. Deciding to follow through on Connie’s suggestion from yesterday, you’d come to see Noah, knocking on his door bright and early this morning, Bovie clutched in your hands. He’d been more than happy to give it a look for you. The two of you had been sitting here for about an hour now, and in that time you’d seen Joel’s form stalk by at least three times, from out of the corner of your eye. Absurd man that he was, you knew he’d been psyching himself up to barge in here and interrupt the two of you. Seemed he’d brought his attitude with him.
“Jesus, man–” Noah’s hand grips your smarting knee, rubbing it gently, “We didn’t hear you come up.” Joel’s left eye twitches at the we, his gaze zeroed in on the hand on your knee, his teeth bared in the perpetuation of a ridiculous growl as he takes a threatening step forward. You lift your brows at him – all your fire and fight from yesterday put to rest now after some much needed sleep. He cocks his brow back at you, shifts his jaw side to side in annoyance.
“Absorbed in your work?” he drawls sardonically.
“We’ve made some good progress actually! Come see,” Noah says, completely missing Joel’s mocking tone, the poor thing. He gives your knee another gentle pat, and you think you might just see steam come out of Joel’s ears. He steps up behind you, chest pressed close to your back and passes a hand over your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. This fucking guy. Now he feels like getting handsy. You scrunch your nose at him, turning back to face Noah and the Bovie, your shoulder pressing into Joel’s belly. Noah takes in your positions, the possessive hand now curled around your neck – looks back down at the knee he’d just grabbed and then back to Joel’s broad intimidating form and scowling face. You see a slow swallow move through his throat. As he starts to explain the changes the two of you had made to the electrocautery generator, you consider the differences between the two of them. The contrast is stark. Noah isn’t small by any means, average height, a nice build – but there’s something about Joel. Some sort of warning in the air around him, in the space he takes up in a room, that makes him larger than life – something that says don’t fuck with me or mine. Heat pools low in your belly and you press your thighs together tightly. Fucked up, you’re fucked up – you try to brush his hand off your neck – suddenly feeling overwhelmed, your skin overly sensitized. “Quit –” he says low in your ear and you almost whimper. He’s jealous, and it’s turning you on. There’s definitely something wrong with you.
You try to shake him off again,“ Let go.”
“No.” His voice is steel. Noah is heedlessly going on about the Bovie, about how it only took a slight rewiring from the generator into the hand-piece without overwhelming the system; giving it the little bump of power it was missing. Joel’s thumb brushes a slow, warning path up and down your neck. Down, down, to the top notch of your vertebrae, slowly kneading the fine muscles surrounding the prominence of your bone and then up and pushing into the base of your skull. His hands are warm and dry – the rough calluses abrading your sensitive skin. You feel the flush in your cheeks traveling down over your chest, the tips of your breasts tightening to painful points. You see Joel’s eyes flicker down, taking you in, and he gives a contemplative hum low in his throat.
“I’m so glad you let me help,” Noah says with a warm smile. He’s sweet and so genuine and as you take him in, how completely unaware he is of the silent struggle going on between you and Joel right in front of him, you’re struck by how easy loving a man like that would be. And how unfulfilling for a woman like you. What is it about some people, that they can’t appreciate a good thing unless it hurts a little?
“Connie and I are real grateful that you could help. You let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” Joel gives him a short nod as you leave.
And then, soft and threatening into the shell of your ear as the two of you walk away from the nice, sweet, uncomplicated boy: we’re goin’ home, and I’m gonna lick that cunt until you’re cryin’, little bird.
Your steps speed up, trying to outrun the clutch of his hands on your skin, trying to escape – even if just a little.
You never stood a chance of that.
-
He follows, menacingly on your heels, as you dart into your house. A rabbit trying to outrun the big bad wolf. You make for the stairs and you feel the tips of his fingers ghost lightly in the ends of your long hair, one foot on the first step, but then his finger is catching in your belt loop, yanking you hard into his chest. Your back thumps against him with a small oof and then his hands are skating along your curves, big palms squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through the cotton of your t-shirt..
“Bad Birdie, try’na run from me.” He nuzzles, gentle, gentle into the nape of your neck, the line of your hair, presses his mouth to the top notch of your spine. You feel his hot, wet tongue slide over the jut of your vertebrae, small peppered kisses to your nape and your entire body flushes hot – arousal pulling low and tight in your belly. Your clit throbs in time with his panting breath in your ear. His soft mouth is totally at odds with the tension he’s holding himself with right now, the harsh way he presses his fingers into the skin of your hips.
You can feel the thick length of him pressing into your ass; he’s hard as stone and throbbing – turned on by the chase. You moan, deep and wanton, slick pooling in your panties, ready for him now , just at the feel of his hands on you. “You want it, baby?”
“Y– yes,” you stutter, pressing yourself harder into him.
“Want me to fuck that needy little cunt?”
His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his chest and into your back, down, down your body all the way to the tips of your toes. “Please, Joel,” you whimper. You try to turn in his arms, but he clicks his tongue at you, wrapping his arms more tightly around your waist, half dragging, half carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom.
“I always give my Birdie what she needs, don’t I?”
-
“Settle now. Stay still so I can eat you how I like.” He hitches his hands higher up the backs of your thighs, beneath your knees – spreads you further apart, up and back to press into your breasts, making more space for the broad valley of his naked shoulders. He’d gotten you naked and into bed, quick as a viper. His desperation, evident in the wild look in his eyes. He was unsettled, either by the tension between the two of you yesterday or you around another man, but he was trying to prove some unspoken point to the two of you in the ferocity of his grip on your skin.
He settles his face deep into your sex now and eats. “Who’s all this wet for, huh? Were you thinkin’ about me while that boy tried to get in your good graces?”
“It’s too much. Please, please, please,” you sob. Tears making a slow, steady journey back into your hairline, dripping into your ears. You yank hard on his hair, try to direct his movements. You can’t tell if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.
“Want me to stop?” He laps at your clit.
“I– I dont– I don’t know–” It felt like he’d been at this for hours. “I–”
“It’s okay.” Soft, whispered kisses to the puffy lips of your sex, your slippery inner thighs. You’re so wet, and you’d have burns from his beard and bruises from his teeth tomorrow. “I know, I know you’re just a little bird,” his teeth sharp and mean to the softest part of you, then the broad flat of his tongue to soothe – a sharp, quick suck to your swollen clit. His volley between rough and tender on your vulnerable sex setting you further on edge than anything else he was doing. “But you can take it for me.You can be so, so good for me. My good girl.”
Your cunt pulls tight – throbs like a wound. Hurts in a way you’re desperate for. You love him, you love him, you love him. Goddamn the things he does to you, makes you feel. You need him so much and he gives it all to you exactly in the way that’s the most perfect, just for you. You feel fucking delirious, on the brink of insanity.
He pushes two thick fingers into you, cunt spasming and clinging. He scissors the digits inside of you, stretches your hole. The squelch is lewd and obscene and messy. You can feel your cheeks burning red and hot, and you throw an arm over your eyes as you feel your slick leak down between your ass to pool on the sheets beneath you – hiding yourself from your own obscenity.
“Pussy s’fuckin’ good, baby. Tastes like candy.” He pulls out his fingers, slaps your cunt, twice, quick and sharp. The sound you let out shames you, high pitched and whining. “Fuckin’ red ‘nd gaping for me. God, Birdie –” he moans so deep it makes your heart race, brings his mouth back to you – licks a broad stripe from hole to clit with the flat of his tongue. His mouth latches to the aching swollen bud and sucks. “You need me so much dont you? Fuckin’ come in my mouth – wanna taste it.” And he’s right, he’s right, you do, you need him so much. In that instant, you feel so grateful that he knows it.
Your back arches, everything liquid within you pooling low in your pelvis, pulling tight, and it feels like the world is about to end around you; a catastrophe even greater than anything the cordyceps could have ever wrought. This is what he brings out of you with his mouth and his fingers and his words, and you gush onto his face. He almost fucking whines at the splash of your orgasm on his tongue – slurping down everything you have to give him, you feel your wetness cover his face and beard. This is what you give to each other.
He gentles his fingers and tongue. Letting your orgasm coast along into echoes and throbs. You try to push him away with your foot on the thick mass of his shoulder, on the brink of overstimulation, but quick as a viper, he circles his entire large palm around the fine bones of your ankle and squeezes. Quit – presses a tiny kiss to the protrusion of your bone there.
“ Mine,” he growls. “Mine, no one touches you but me–” His hands open you wider for him, fileting you for his eyes only. You feel hot and flush, your skin tight, to the point of bursting, like an overripe plum in the sun. Skin fragile and thin, insides viscous, ready to spill your flesh for him, blood burning hot as it churns in your veins. “Not fuckin’ done yet, Birdie. Not done with this perfect pussy.” Tears make a slow path down your temples, your fingers tangled in his hair, wanting to hurt– just a little. Like the delicious hurt of holding him within yourself. The way it feels like an old aching bruise inside of you when he stuffs you full of his cock. And then he’s up, up, up – quick as a whip – his fingers shoving into the tangle of your hair at the nape of your neck, captured in a tight fist like prey in a snare, and he’s shoving your own taste deep into you with his tongue. The kiss, open and savage – he’s fucking your mouth like he was just fucking your pussy. Your heart pushes against the bones of your chest, and you desperately clutch at his shoulders for some sort of countenance. He unmoors you . You have been unmoored by this man. And you want – need – more.
He kneels between your open legs, thick thighs anchoring you wider and fists his cock, the head gleaming and painfully red. He pulls your thighs over his own thicker ones, and presses the fat tip hard to your sensitive clit, making you jolt and whimper pathetically. “Cock drunk, that’s what you are.” All you can do is nod dumbly, eyes glassy and wet. His voice is so deep. He drags the head down to your entrance, presses just a little, only the fat tip held inside you. He fucks you short and shallow like that, his hips moving in tiny, slow jerks.
“Please,” you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the subtle pressure, at the promise of what’s about to come, “Please, Joel.”
“Please what? Please what?” he mocks, just a little mean, and then he’s surging inside in one brutal thrust. Fucking into you without warning and he’s huge — almost too much to take, even after your orgasms. “Fucking tight,” he grits out. He hoists you up, arms wrapped around your waist and starts fucking up and into you, hard. Not giving you a moment to adjust. Letting go of the restraint he’d held while he ate you out. Cock battering into something deep and sensitive inside you, all you can do is take it. Let him have you as he pleases.
-
He can feel your slick pooling at the base of his cock and sliding down his balls. He wraps his hand around the fine bones of your jaw, “Who’s pussy is this?” he growls over the wet slap, “Wanna hear it out loud.”
Yours, yours, yours.
Your face is flushed and sweaty, cheeks red as an apple, eyes glazed, dark, wet lashes clumped together. The fucked out look in your eyes doing more for him than anything else. This is what he does to you, only him . He picks up the pace of his hips, fucks you harder, harder and your tits bounce against his chest. He slaps one of them gently, appreciating the soft jiggle it gives, the small gasp you let out. His other hand snakes low on your tummy and presses down into your pelvis so he can feel the battering of his cock inside of your cunt and shit he’s gonna come soon. Gonna come with his hand feeling himself fuck you from the outside. “Too much, too much, Joel ,” you whine. “Oh god, I– I’m gonna–” You’re soaked, sweat and slick sliding between your two bodies, and clutching him hot and tight as a fist. He can’t get deep enough, can’t give it to you hard enough. He never wants to stop, will never be able to stop.
“You’re taking my cock so good, so fucking good. Jesus fuck, I can’t, I can’t–” He slates his mouth over your open panting one, licks into the sweet, red gleam of you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he drags his teeth along your full bottom lip, lets it go with a little wet pop. You moan, head falling back on your neck, beyond words. He bends his head, hand wrapped around the fullness of your tit to bring it to his mouth, bites gently down on the tight, aching bud, laves his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth. Then he’s pushing you back, letting you fall and bounce onto the mattress, legs splayed. When he pulls out abruptly you whimper – he can’t let himself come yet, not yet, just a little more – and he leaves a hot trail of open mouth kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth again, over the swell of your belly, until he’s between your thighs again and bends his head to devour your slick. His tongue licking deep inside where his cock just was. He’s frantic. There’s no reason to the sense of urgency he feels, the urgency he’s taking you with right now. It’s something subconscious – something primal telling him to mark you, lay his claim.
He can’t stop taking and taking, always taking.
He pulls up again from between your legs, the abruptness of his movements confusing you, leaving you to deliriously allow him to do with you what he will. “Taste us,” he says as he licks into your mouth, fucking his aching cock back into your spent cunt, so fucking tight always. “One more, baby. Gimme one more, lemme feel you milk me.” And like his own personal little marionette on a string, you do. Pussy fluttering and then pulling tight, a little furl of a knot, squeezing his own orgasm out of him. He feels his balls pull up tight and he’s painting you inside, teeth latched tightly to the delicate muscle that connects your neck and shoulder. The sound from your throat is high and keening, supplicant. He licks the hurt he’s just left. Grinds his spitting cock deep, right into the mouth of your womb.
Mine, mine, fucking mine. It is a mantra of reassurance for the both of you.
-
He cradles you in his embrace afterwards, his body wrapped around you as if he were a vine grown from your very heart. He sighs, the sound deep from his chest, and you want to tell yourself you can hear a yearning desperate enough to match your own in the cadence of it. His head drops to your shoulder, nuzzles the vulnerable space beneath your jaw, now riddled with his bites and bruises. You know you’ll enjoy inspecting them in the mirror tomorrow, feeling the warm pull of your belly at the reminder. And the moment is so achingly tender, even more intimate in a way, than your sex. The feel of him surrounding you, soft and quiet. Your eyes feel hot, pinching threateningly.
“I have to go,” he murmurs, spent cock still buried inside of you. He presses kisses to your hair, your lips, over your closed eyelids. He can’t stop, God, he’s tried – is trying – but he can’t go, can’t part from you. Fighting is so fucking hard when you’ve got no will behind it. When what you’re trying to fight against is the thing you’ve wanted more than anything else in your whole life, and the only thing standing in your way is yourself, your own inadequacy. Perhaps he could endure the agony, the filth of life, the loss, the loss, the loss, with you held in his arms like this.
His patrol shift started almost an hour ago. The guys were going to ream the hell out of him, he’d been here with you for hours, and still, still he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull himself away. His lack of will, lack of restraint, of self control – his body and heart’s inability to do what his mind told him to, makes him so angry. At himself, and maybe – not at you, never you – but perhaps, at what you represented. All he wanted but couldn’t let himself have in full. He needed to go. He had responsibilities. He had truths to confess to himself.
He was in love with you. He was. He was.
Joel was an obstinate man, but he did not lack self awareness. Now was the moment for this truth, if only confessed to himself. So, angry, and in love with you, and tremendously sorry, he turns away. Pulls out of your tight wet clutch with a wince, your breathy gasp making his cock twitch slightly, even so soon after he’s just come. You roll over, burrow into the pillows, and he grips the swell of your ass, pulls you apart to feast on the sight of his come leaking out of you. Obscene. Wet and messy and swollen, marked by his spend. He wants to bend for a taste but knows if he does, he won’t stop, will be likely to start all over again. “I gotta go, Birdie. M’already late.” He bends to nip a gentle bite to your ass cheek, one small last taste, then the press of a kiss. He hopes you can feel all he cannot say with that touch. The soft sound of acquiescence you hum as you burrow further into the sheets has his teeth clenching as he reaches for his clothes, heart turning over in his chest. He’s sure every sound out of you has a direct connection to his cock at this point.
He won’t shower, won’t wash your drying come from his body. He’ll take you with him, wear you on his skin. Anyways, what did it matter, really, when he already wore you on his heart, his soul? What was one more conquering of his self? Perhaps this was, ultimately, what swallowing the sea looked like.
Chapter III
Netherfeildren Masterlist
#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#joel miller/reader#joel miller/you#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#FOG fic
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Miguel x reader and reaction to Spider-Man squishmallow by chance please? Hopefully that is not too cringey, but maybe just Miguel not understanding the fascination. Then later, admitting all of the Spider-Man squishmallow a are cute 😭. If not, no worries, take care!
Summary: (y/n) finds some Spiderman plushies in the store and buys one, Miguel not understanding her interest in it but he comes around to the cute plushie.
Word count: 0.8K
Warnings: Nothing.
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“Miguel, I’m just going shopping, you don’t need to come with me.” I say as I grab hold of a trolley from the trolley bay.
“I know, querida but I like spending time with you.” He says with a slight smile.
“It’s just food shopping.” I chuckle.
“I like doing the simple things with you.” He mumbles, his cold exterior returning as his eyes scan over the store, automatically searching for any danger out of habit.
“Well, I’m not gonna stop you.” I smile up at him softly. “Having company is nice.” I say, pushing the trolley through the doors to the supermarket.
Walking down the aisles I look at the items, picking up things I know we need. After a few minutes we get through the aisle and there are some items up high, higher than I can reach and I strain on my tip toes trying to reach the box but I still can’t until I feel Miguel’s body close to mine, reaching further up than me and grabbing the item with a small smile, bordering on smirk.
“Here, cariño.” He says, placing it in the trolley, leaving me standing awkwardly.
“Thank you.” I mumble, moving to push the trolley more down the aisle.
We walk down more aisles, collecting items and checking lists until we reach a more home-like section: clothes, toys and similar things.
Smiling, I walk towards the toy section seeing the cute plushies and soft blankets and Miguel follows behind slightly confused as he trails after me.
“I don’t think you need any more soft things.” He mutters from behind me and I just ignore his statement until he walks to be next to me. Picking up one of the plushies he inspects it. “Is this meant to be a cat?” He asks, looking at it, tilting his head confused.
“Yeah, a sushi cat!” I smile, it’s a soft cat plushie that’s meant to be wrapped in a sushi roll but Miguel doesn’t seem to understand itl.
I walk away from the sushi cat and towards the other soft toys and my eyes go wide with excitement as I see some of the other toys.
Quickly, I make my way over to cute Spiderman plushies and I grab one, picking it up and showing it to Miguel as he trails behind me.
“Look!” I say, not wanting to expose his secret identity but wanting him to see it. “It’s so cute!” I say looking from the plushie to Miguel’s unimpressed face.
“I don’t understand.” He mumbles, one of his fangs overlapping his bottom lip as he speaks.
“What do you mean?” I say looking at the plushie, adoringly.
“Why? Why does this exist?” He asks, rubbing his forehead.
“Because they’re cute.” I say, putting the Spiderman plushie in the trolley. “And it’s Spiderman!” I say. “Everyone loves Spiderman.” I point out.
“Whatever you say, cariño.” He mumbles, just going along with what I’ve been saying.
We trek through the store getting everything else we need before checking out and I smile when the cashier scans the plushie which Miguel still seems confused about.
Once we’ve checked out, Miguel carries the shopping bags whilst I hold onto the Spiderman plushie, happy with the discovery. He packs the bags into the boot of the car and we drive home and unpack the bags, putting all the shopping away.
“I can’t believe they made a plushie of me…” Miguel sighs, looking at me hugging the plushie on the sofa next to him.
“It’s you as a plushie.” I point out slowly like it’s obvious. “What’s not to love?” I ask, turning to look at him.
“I’m not fluffy.” He mumbles and I reach up to ruffle his hair with a smirk.
“You’re a little fluffy.” I chuckle and I can see he’s suppressing a small smile.
“I guess you're right, querida.” I yawn, tiredly.
“Anyway, I’m gonna go to bed now ‘cause I’m tired.” I start to get up from the sofa, still holding my plushie.
“I’ll join you, mi amor.” Miguel says getting up after me and gently holding onto my hand as we walk to the bedroom tiredly and fall onto the bed, tucking ourselves under the covers.
“Are you really gonna sleep with that?” Miguel asks, looking at my plushie as he wraps his arm around me.
“Yeah, now I’ve got two Miguels.” I sigh, relaxing in his arms.
“It’s kinda cute, I guess.” He mumbles reluctantly, resting his chin on my head and I immediately perk up at his words.
“You think it’s cute?” I ask, turning to face him again.
“No, I said you were cute.” He dismisses, not very subtly.
“You said it was cute! I heard you.” I chuckle.
“Mi vida, you must be hearing things.” He mumbles quietly, although the corners of his lips turn up slightly at his joking dismissal before pressing a gentle kiss on my head.
“I know what I heard.” I smirk. “I knew you’d like it.” I rest my head back on his chest, snuggling back down in the covers.
“Mm, okay.” He says quietly, relaxing again. “Whatever you say, mi querida.” He mumbles and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
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AN: Thanks for the request!
I hope you enjoyed reading!
#marvel#spiderverse#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x yn#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel x y/n#marvel x yn#spiderverse x reader#spiderverse x you#spiderverse x y/n#spiderverse x yn#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#spiderverse fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#x yn#x you#x y/n#fluff#spiderman: across the spiderverse#spiderman: across the spiderverse x reader#spiderman: across the spiderverse x you
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Is it too early to ask for an ianthony mistletoe story 😭
For the sake of transparency I got this ask in October so it was too early, but now it is not!
Merry Christmas, Smoshblr!
Ian/Anthony - Ianthony - Mistletoe
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Despite being the owners of Smosh, Ian and Anthony had very little to do with the set-up for the holiday company party. They approved ideas, of course, approved expenses, Anthony insisted on a photobooth, but beyond that, they trusted the staff around them to pull off a great party.
Mostly, the Smosh crew did just that. The venue was lively and filled with games and the photo booth Anthony wanted. There were gift bags being given away, an open bar, good food, and it made Ian proud to stand at the front of the room and see all his friends and employees having fun and thriving.
Anthony slides up to Ian’s side and bumps his shoulder against Ian’s gently.
“Pretty cool party, huh?”
Ian looks at Anthony and gives him a smile. It’s hard not to. Sometimes Ian still feels like pinching himself to make sure this is all real, that Anthony is back, and they own Smosh, and somewhere along the lines of their lives, fate has righted the way things were always meant to be. Anthony’s eyes are soft and warm and tell Ian that he’s feeling exactly the same thing right now.
“Really cool. The crew did a great job.”
“They did, so stop standing against the wall and come and have a shot with me,” Anthony says, laying his hand on Ian’s arm.
Before either of them can make it to the bar, Erin and Heidi are in front of them. Erin has a polaroid camera in her hands, and she grins at them in a way that just screams trouble.
“Okay, Smosh Dads we got you,” Erin says plainly, but she’s smirking at them.
“Got us?” Anthony asks with a nervous giggle.
Erin doesn’t say anything, but she points upwards to the ceiling. There tacked above the spot where Ian and Anthony happen to be standing is a sprig of mistletoe.
“Haven’t we as a society moved passed the concept of mistletoe?” Ian asks.
“Yeah, pretty toxic behavior, Erin,” Anthony teases.
“Shut up, it’s just for fun. We have a ‘Kiss Board’ near the bathrooms with all the kisses we’ve caught,” Erin says. She lifts the camera, “So…”
“I am not kissing Ian,” Anthony says.
“It wouldn’t be the first time!” Erin argues.
“Wait,” Ian says, “you’re making other people kiss?”
Erin rolls her eyes and Heidi hands over a stack of polaroids she had been carrying, giving them to Erin.
“Well, no, see that would be problematic. We’re offering the chance, the potential to kiss, you know, with a tiny bit of peer pressure and loosening the definition for what a ‘kiss’ means,” Erin says.
“Just for tonight,” Heidi adds. Erin nods in agreement.
One of the pictures on top is Amanda planting a huge and wet kiss on Angela’s cheek. Another shows Chanse kissing Shayne on his forehead.
“Of course, we need our dads to kiss. It’s Christmas after all.”
“Christmas is still like a week away,” Ian argues.
Erin opens her mouth, but then Heidi is nudging her with her elbow to Erin’s side.
“Tommy and Spencer are under the mistletoe over there!”
Erin whips around and the two make a beeline for the men. Anthony watches, shaking his head. He glances at Ian and Ian doesn’t think it’s in his imagination that Anthony’s cheeks are a soft pink.
“So, let’s just not mention this whole kiss board thing to HR, what do you say?” Anthony says.
Ian nods, “Agreed. How about that drink now?”
Anthony nods and then he and Ian move towards the bar, but Ian can’t help but watch from a distance as Erin snaps a picture of Tommy and Spencer. Tommy’s arms are wrapped loosely around Spencer’s waist because Tommy is pleasantly tipsy and Spencer is giggling, and Erin is laughing and shouting about how they’re supposed to be kissing and not just posing together.
He sees the moment that Spencer sticks out his lips exaggeratedly and then Tommy rolls his eyes and quickly pecks Spencer on the lips as Erin snaps a picture of them, and then the whole group breaks into giggles.
Anthony orders them two shots of tequila from the bar and the bartender is quick, bringing them to the counter with a nod. Anthony thanks the man and slips a folded bill into his tip jar with a nod before he picks up his drink, Ian doing the same.
The two of them clink their glasses together in a ‘cheers’ before sipping at the way too strong shot.
“Oof,” Ian says.
Anthony makes a face. “Yeah, I don’t remember the last time I’ve drunk tequila.”
They finish their shots and Ian is only vaguely aware that in their position near the bar, there is no mistletoe to be found. For some reason, he has a strange mix of both relief and disappointment forming in his stomach.
“Okay,” Anthony says with a bright grin, “I have one more best friend request.”
“Let’s hear it,” Ian says.
“I want to take a picture with you in the photo booth.”
Ian grins, his face and stomach feeling warm already from the shot.
“Alright, that’s fair.”
Then Anthony tugs Ian excitedly over towards the photo booth set up near the display of different arcade games. Ian can see a group of cast and crew members gathered around the punching machine, hollering, and cheering for one another.
Anthony pulls back the black velvet curtain of the photo booth, letting Ian slip inside the narrow space of the booth first with Anthony following. They sit together side by side, thighs and elbows touching as Anthony sorts through the options on the machine.
“We don’t need anything fancy,” Anthony says.
Ian smiles and then he glances upwards and snorts, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“What?” Anthony says, a laugh already forming on his face.
Ian points upwards and then Anthony looks up and they both see the sprig of mistletoe that someone – mostly likely Erin and Heidi – taped to the ceiling of the booth.
Anthony laughs, his face reddening in the process.
“Well, thank god no one is in here to hold us accountable for that, huh?”
Ian lets out a giggle and nods, his own face getting red. “Yeah, man.”
“Okay, so poses. Why don’t we do one normal one and then the rest can be stupid?” Anthony suggests.
Ian nods. “Sounds good to me.”
Anthony presses the button on the machine and the screen shifts to show the two of them along with a timer counting down from 10. Anthony poses cutely next to Ian’s face and Ian shifts between a legitimate smile and a blank faced stare.
“Ian! This is our normal one,” Anthony says with a laugh.
“This is my normal face,” Ian says blankly, which only makes Anthony laugh.
Anthony manages to school his expression back into the cute pose as the timer hits 0 and it snaps a picture of the two of them. The next one they both pull a stupid face and there is something fun and freeing about doing this with Anthony, doing this for the sake of them, for their friendship, because they want to be together and have a memento from this night and moment together.
“This one, what if it looks like you’re sucking my dick?” Anthony says with a laugh.
“What?” Ian giggles, “fuck you, you suck my dick.”
“Oh, come on, Ian. It’ll be really funny.”
The timer ticks down and Ian rolls his eyes, but then he leans just enough and opens his mouth to give the implication that he might be sucking Anthony’s dick in the photo booth.
Anthony is laughing hard enough to wheeze, and the machine is urging them to prepare for the last photo of their set. Ian looks at his best friend, the curls that hang in his face, his cheeks red, how happy he is and how happy Ian feels because they are together again.
“Anthony,” Ian says.
“Yeah?” Anthony asks, wiping his eyes.
“Maybe we should do our last one as a…kiss or something?”
“What?” Anthony says, “you’re fucking with me.”
Ian shrugs, his heart speeding up. What is he doing? He shrugs.
“I mean, the mistletoe is in here after all.”
Anthony looks at him seriously, blinking, before his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip.
“You want to?”
Ian shrugs again, but inside, he knows he does.
“Doesn’t have to be for the kiss board. It can just be for us.”
A fond smile spreads across Anthony’s face. He leans forward and presses the glowing button to indicate that the two of them are ready for the final photo in their set.
The timer begins to countdown from 10.
Anthony turns so he’s facing Ian. Their eyes are meeting, and Ian can’t bring himself to look away. Anthony leans in just a little and he cups Ian’s cheek gently and soft. Ian has no idea what the timer is on, but he leans in, meets Anthony half-way in the small space, and presses his lips to Anthony’s.
Their kiss is sweet and simple and fills Ian with a warmth he can’t even begin to describe or understand.
Distantly, he’s aware of the flash going off but he’s too focused on Anthony’s warm fingers cradling his jaw, and their lips pressed together.
It all ends too soon. Anthony pulling back and slowly lowering his hand from Ian’s face. They look at each other, and there are years of past, present, and future strung out between them. There’s a decision, a choice, and Ian was brave once, brave when it mattered, and it got him Smosh and Anthony back.
He summons that bravery again and leans in to fist a hand in Anthony’s dumb Christmas sweater and pull his face close so he can kiss him again. No posing, no cameras, just them.
#ianthony#smoshships#polysmosh#my fics#my writing#christmas fluff#mistletoe#christmas party#fic requests#fic prompts#fan fiction#fan fic#fanfic
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HIHI NIKKI !!! i wanted to request a matchup 🤭
to start off, i’d like a romantic matchup! and for the fandom, i would love if you could give me a character from jjk, mha, haikyuu and kimetsu no yaiba BUT IF NOT ITS FINE!! and you can just expand on one if you do feel like giving me a character for each
if you just want one i’d like mha please !! and i have a strong preference for men 🗣️
personality wise, i’d say i’m very similar to jiro from mha !! im very reserved and kind of rude to everyone but my friends and i have a rbf majorly 😭 but with my friends i’m very loud and expressive most of the time !! (my therapist has also had a hard time believing im quiet outside of her office 😭)
i’m actually a very insecure person especially about my looks but i act super confident to hide that 😝
i’m also a very judgy person and i need someone to judge and gossip with 😞‼️
my love languages (giving) are gift giving and quality time !! and receiving are words of affirmation and physical touch !
i dress very grungy + alternative and my makeup also reflects that !! but i also love dressing up for dances and such
i try to be as feminine as i can with my style because i hate being perceived as masculine
it doesn’t take me long to open up once i’ve decided i’ve liked a person but sometimes that bites me in the butt so i’ve been trying to not do that 😭
i’m naturally very smart (not to brag) and i take a lot of pride in it!! i’m always the friend people turn to for help/answers in my classes and all my teachers love me 😭
okay i think that’s enough yapping!! lmk if you need anything else for this and thank you sm in advance 🤍🤍 AND LIKE I SAID ITS FINE IF YOU JUST DO MHA IM JUST CURIOUS ABOUT THE OTHERS AS WELL 🙇♀️🙇♀️
a/n: don't worry, I'll try to do all of them! Hope you like this!
You Got...
Satoru Gojo !
Seems you caught the attention of the strongest sorcerer in this era!
Very open to share some gossip.
He ends up calling you if he needs something or just wants to talk, in most cases the latter.
A great giver of physical affection, a few words of reassurance may fly from time to time - especially in times of stress. Also expect some gifts or/and treats.
He could probably come out with a “You cryin'?” just out of spite. Yes, he's a tease, but you could tease him back [*inserts evil laught*]
Denki Kaminari !
The pikachu probably has a city for you for a long time, even if he hasn't said it, it's easy to notice.
Very extrovert, convinces you to be friend with the classmates - looks like you're being a good friend with Jiro too!
More into giving physical touch than words of affirmation, likes time passed with you. He's taking you around town with the others. The more the better.
VERY happy if he sees you start to open up with him.
Asks for the answer of the homeworks, but he still repeats he won't ask next time [we know it won't happen]
Keiji Akaashi !
I honestly wasn't sure who to pair you up with, but in the end he seemed like the best choice!
Imagine having a yapper named Bokuto next to him and deal with his sudden mood swings. He is literally used and prepared to listen to everything you have to say. Yes, even gossip.
The type of person who is really good to comfort and reassure you. He doesn't mind to spend time woth you, a good company is still a good company
He would notice you start to open up around him but he would say nothing.
He's a pretty observant person, so if he notices even the slightest bit of insecurity he'll try to cheer you up. Honestly, he doesn't like to see you down in the dumps about something like that.
Tengen Uzui !
The flashy ninja thinks you're cute and likes your style!
Having multiple wives I seem much more inclined to give physical affection and give gifts. Oh, did you give him a gift too? He kinda wish it's a shiny thing.
Admire that you're pretty smart and he likes to remind you it.
When he's talking to someone and you're nearby, he might come closer to you and come out with phrases such as "Look, isn't my girlfriend pretty?", "She's the one who won my heart," and stuff like that. He is sincerely fond of you.
Most of all, he protects you and helps you when you need help or are in danger.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#boku no hero academia#bnha#denki kaminari#bnha denki#denki x reader#bnha x reader#haikyuu#hq#keiji akaashi#hq akaashi#akaashi x reader#hq x reader#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#tengen uzui#kny uzui#uzui x reader#kny x reader#jjk matchups#bnha matchups#hq matchups#kny matchup#࿇࿐ .elle !
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I’m so glad that you share the sentiment of Effie deserving to do more with her life after the revolution than be a housewife, girl has her whole life ahead of her 😭
Effie being the one to make more compromises and catering to Haymitch’s needs is one of the reasons why most post revolution fics about them leave such a bitter taste in my mouth. One person giving up self realization for the other is bound to lead to resentment.
Thank you for saying this. I felt really bad when i posted it, because a lot of people misinterpreted my comment as i was saying that be a housewife was a bad thing or that Effie should have stayed in the Capitol like nothing had changed…and that’s NOT what i think! I mean, she was kept in captivity and tortured for almost a year, of course she wouldn’t be okay after that! Of course she would have some limitations and probably wouldn’t afford a formal employment or anything oficial, but that doesn’t mean she should stay at home sewing and netting like she was fucking eighty years old
I am not asking to make her a CEO of a big ass company and ignore the limitations her mental -and probably physical- condition requires, i am just saying Effie is a city girl who spent her whole life delighted with the overwhelming power of the city and seeking validation by overdoing things! She IS a hurricane, this is a huge part of her personality, i don’t see this going well with a life of just sewing and having sex (even though i can see her doing it a lot in her free time, Effie Trinket would die of boredom in a week if that was all she had to do)
And let’s be racional, she could be happy in twelve with Haymitch, she could have a less stressful life with him and the children, but it doesn’t mean she had to stop being her authentic self and unfortunately this requires a lot of things happening and i don’t see Haymitch coping well with her destroying his house cause she has too much energy to spend and all she has to do is sell goose eggs
She can have a boutique, she can work for Twelve’s government, she can help Peeta at the bakery, she can be a teacher…she has so many possibilities that goes well with a calm like, i don’t know why they need to turn her into a damn grandmother at 36
plus, we can’t say Effie is a Housewife, BECAUSE SHE IS NOT EVEN A WIFE! They don’t even get married! We lost our Effie and don’t even get the wedding and this kills me every time…..
ps: i am not saying all the writers do it, or that the ones who does are bad writer…i just don’t agree with this specific outcome for the character. No need to take it personally
#please don’t kill me it is just my opinion#haymitch abernathy#hunger games#effie trinket#the hunger games#hayffie#post mockingjay
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🏛️& 💼
will be answering this in context of my own gg dr !! ^^
🏛️ ♡︎ what do you do in your free time? who are you with? where do you go?
when i choose to be outside on off days, i’m usually café hopping with khlöe, taking a walk with danielle, or shopping with hyein !! but when we’re off & i feel like staying home, i’ll either sew / crochet, or plan my outfits & organize my bedroom!
also, since i have such a strong connection (& a sense of separation anxiety) with my fandom, there are days where i’ll do 2-3 hour long lives in my bedroom, just yapping with my fans over nothing in particular
this was hard to answer because i love to do everything !!
💼 ♡︎ who is someone you don’t get along with in your dr? why?
oouuu… 😭😭 well, if i’m telling the truth, it’s actually hokazono iroha (iroha from ill-it) !! i spun a wheel of idols born in my age range & wrote a backstory for them JAJSWDJSJ
for context, my boyfriend is the son of a globally known japanese rockstar, & so he has an aesthetic similar to that of his father — your mysterious boy-next-door, but make it emo & a little badass :p
iroha grew up idolizing his father & his band, so when she discovered he had a son – one that’s both in her age range AND under the same company as her, she obviously said #needthat
but obviously, he has a girlfriend (me !! 😊), so she doesn’t really like me for that reason.. it’s sort of unserious because the three of us work in the same company building, + if we include the ador / belift conflict (bf & i are under ador, iroha is under belift)
i’m sort of curious to see how this’ll all play out, but girl to be honest i’m ready for anything AHAHAHSUSHSJSJ i know i’m that girl anyway
#melleody ♡︎#melleody#shiftblr#i’m just a girl#elle’s asks 🎀#reality shifting#shifting realities#shifting community#shifters#shifting blog#shifting antis dni#kpop desired reality#kpop shifting#kpopblr#kpop girls#own gg dr#baebeez#loassumption#loa tumblr#loa blog#shifting dr#reality shifter#shiftingrealities#shifting consciousness#reality shift#shifting#shifting motivation#shifting diary#iroha i’m begging u to bring it on#am i.. messy??
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